Tumgik
#<- those are for my own organization. I'm not gonna put this in any other main character/game tags
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Burns Like Rum
Ship: Astarion x female!human!reader/Tav
Summary: Astarion's hunger worsens every day and you don't have any blood to spare—but that doesn't stop you from inadvertently tempting him at every turn. Luckily for both of you, you've both got the same idea to cure him of his hunger.
Word Count: 7,840 words
Warnings: sexual content (18+), menstruating reader, hungry Astarion, mutual pining, possibly OOC dialogue, vampire feeding, soft Astarion, no particular timeline but Astarion hasn't told you anything yet
18+ Warnings: period sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), hand job, bite kink, blood kink, aftercare, use of the words cunt & cock
Note: For my usual readers, more Stranger Things content is coming, I promise! But this bitey boy currently owns my heart so I'm gonna show him some love :)
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☟ Continue below the fold ☟
Astarion was hungry, and it was entirely your fault, for more than one reason.
The first was that, almost a month ago now, you had let Astarion drink from you. He'd been starving, and it didn't help that the others had given him strict rules about feeding, so when he flashed those sad but gorgeous red eyes at you, complaining of hunger, you'd all but gifted him your neck.
He'd practically drained you that night. You had been weak for days. Of course, the others, namely Gale and Lae'zel, were furious with you for letting him drink from you, but the sated, content look on his face after feeding made it all worth it to you. He'd become more comfortable around you after that, too, and you'd considered that an improvement.
It hadn't been all that bad, really, for him to sink his teeth into you and drink until your grip on him had grown so weak that he'd let up to check on you. In fact, it had been...rather pleasant. He'd been gentle, careful, his bite sharp but considerate. You knew then that you'd risk becoming anemic for a week just to feel the pleasure of his hand cradling your neck and head, his mouth against your neck, his tongue soothing the bite he'd left when he'd had his fill.
But in the weeks that followed, his hunger gradually returned, and with a vengeance. It was as if he'd never fed from you at all, suffering hunger pangs he hid from the others—but you noticed, recognizing them from the night he'd begged you to let him drink from you.
You'd offered him more of your blood since then, but he'd refused you every time. He could smell your guilt, your need to make him feel better simply because you felt responsible for his current pain.
"I won't accept blood from someone who feels obligated to give it to me," he'd said, and his tone made it difficult to tell if he was being snide or kind.
Sometimes, you simply didn't understand that man.
And then three days ago, you'd been injured in a fight. It was nothing fatal, the gash in your midsection missing any major muscles and not deep enough to jeopardize your organs, but it was bloody. You'd limped your way back to camp, your head swimming, the world around you growing darker around the edges with every step.
You'd fainted in Astarion's arms—although collapsed was a better word for it, according to Karlach—drenched in blood, some of which was yours and some of which that wasn't.
"You should have seen his face!" Karlach had laughed when you'd woken up the next morning, woozy but fine thanks to Shadowheart. The blood loss kept you off your feet for the day to recover, and Karlach had taken the time to visit you.
"What do you mean?" you asked, although you already had a good idea what might have happened after you passed out.
"You put him in a right pickle, collapsing on him like that, all covered in blood and losing more of it quickly," she said. "He didn't know what to do with you. It was— It was like he didn't want to drop you, but he really did want to drop you, because all he wanted to do was drink from you. Can't say as I blame him—he's not fed in weeks and you turn up with his next meal draining out of you." You hid your face in your hands with a groan. "Why'd you beeline for him anyway? Shadowheart's tent was just a few paces away!"
You glared at her through your fingers. "You know why I went to him, Karlach!" She, of all people, would understand. She had been the first person to find out that, as much as you flirted with them all, Astarion was the one you wanted.
"Well, obviously," she said, "but it didn't occur to you that he might...have an adverse reaction?"
Rolling your eyes, you snarked, "No, Karlach, it didn't, I was bleeding out and suffering from head trauma. I just...saw someone I trusted to keep me safe and ran to him."
She cocked her head to the side. "That's sweet, but stupid."
You snorted. "Yeah, I know—Shadowheart won't stop yelling at me for it."
You hadn't seen Astarion until that night, when the group of you had gathered at the campfire. It hadn't meant to be like that; you'd seen him and had wanted to talk to him, at least apologize for throwing your bloody body at him, but Shadowheart followed you closely to keep you safe and soon the others had gathered.
It had been like a very strange family dinner, made awkward by everyone dancing around exactly why you'd gone to Astarion, knowing a hungry vampire and fresh blood were not a good mix.
The final reason you were making his hunger unbearable made itself known at the end of the night, when it was just you, Astarion, and Shadowheart at the dying fire.
She must have caught sight of the way you kept looking at Astarion out of the corner of your eye, embarrassedly looking away or pretending to gaze into the trees behind him every time he caught you looking. She tapped your shoulder and told you she needed to get rest. The "you should, too" was implied, hanging in the air along with her worry about your healing.
"I'm fine, Shadowheart, really," you insisted. "I won't rip myself open again, I promise."
"I'll keep an eye on her," Astarion promised. "Nothing too...strenuous for her just yet." Something in his voice made you shiver.
She left the two of you alone. You looked first at the fire, then down at your hands, folded in your lap. Anywhere than at him.
You didn't even hear him move. You only knew he had when you felt him sit on the log beside you, one of his hands covering your own.
"Are you alright?" he asked, his voice soft. "I...am sorry I didn't visit you, it's just—"
"It's just that I threw myself at you when it looked like I'd taken a shower in blood and that made things a wee bit difficult?" you interrupted, the words spilling out before you had time to process that you were speaking. Embarrassed heat flushed through you instantly.
But Astarion only gave you that soft, slightly toothy smile. You drank it in, relishing his smile lines and the brief contentment on his face. "Something like that, yes," he said. "I was...worried I might hurt you if I saw you again and you still smelled so deliciously of your blood. I'm so hungry, darling, it's unbearable. All I wanted was to feast until there was nothing left of you, and I'd never forgive myself if I—"
"Stop." You held up your hand. "Please. I don't... Don't be so nice to me, it makes me feel like I'm on my deathbed."
Astarion laughed, throwing his head back. "I'd hardly call wanting to drain you nice, my love." Almost unconsciously, your gaze dipped to his exposed neck and you wondered idly what he would do if you were to bite him back.
Probably the strenuous activity Astarion had promised Shadowheart you wouldn't be doing.
He met your gaze, a sudden depth and seriousness in his crimson stare. "Stick with me, and you might soon be on your deathbed." Pointedly, he broke eye contact with you, letting his eyes drop first to your neck and then further down your body. You tingled, the feeling reminiscent of the anemia that had possessed your body in the hours and days after he'd drank from you.
You realized Astarion was waiting for a reaction from you, hoping for something more than your stunned silence. So you let your eyes drift across his body, resting on his mouth as you said, "Doesn't sound like a bad way to go out."
From the back of his throat came a sound that wasn't quite a growl or a groan, but somewhere in between, just as needy as either sound. "Don't tempt me, darling," he whispered. "I promised Shadowheart I'd keep you safe, and you certainly wouldn't be if I did everything I want."
Your heart skipped a beat. "Astarion..."
He closed his eyes, leaning toward you, releasing a tense breath. "Darling..."
"What if I want to tempt you?" You put your hand on his leg, sliding closer to him.
"Cheeky thing," he said, eyes opening in small slits. "But only when you're healed. I can still smell the blood on you." He sighed. "You have no idea how much restraint it takes not sink my teeth into that pretty neck of yours."
You frowned. "But I am healed," you said. "Just tender. Shadowheart wouldn't have let me leave her tent otherwise."
"I can't blame you for wanting me," Astarion teased, that familiar charm honeying his words, "but I've never been wrong." He cupped your cheek, his touch taking the bite out of his words. He offered you a small, sympathetic smile.
You put your hand to your abdomen, half-expecting to find that your wound had ripped open of its own accord. Your shirt and the bandage beneath it was dry—but a sudden twinge of pain, appearing only once it had been acknowledged, came from lower. You hissed.
Astarion sat up straighter. "What is it? Are you alright?"
"Shit. I think I've figured out why you still smell blood," you said through clenched teeth.
Astarion's eyes dipped to where your hand rested. "It's that time again already, is it?"
"It's early," you groaned. You stood slowly, regretting it instantly.
He tracked you as you moved, his gaze becoming dangerous and predatory. It was the look that had scared you when he drank from you, practically convincing you he wasn't going to stop. Still, his need for you burned through you like rum, its heat spreading through your belly.
"I didn't smell it before, not under all the blood you had on you," he said. His voice was deep, dark, dangerous. "But, oh, darling—I smell it now." He licked his lips and your stomach did flips that were neither pleasant or unpleasant. The hunger in his eyes was palpable
"I, ah, have to go. For your sake and mine. Um. So, uh, goodnight, Astarion. I...I'll see you when this is all over."
He stood up quickly. "Darling, do you need—" He cut himself off as you waved away his concern, crossing the camp to your own tent.
"No! Goodnight!" you called over your shoulder.
Astarion sighed. "...Night."
~❊~
You avoided Astarion like the plague. Well, perhaps not, because while you never wanted to see the disease, you were always on the lookout for your favorite vampire.
You caught glimpses of him through the open flaps of your tent, sauntering by with a swagger you found unfairly attractive. You saw him reading on his own when Shadowheart helped you changed your bandages, his handsome face fixed in concentration. A few hours later, you heard him arguing with Gale about the very same book, which had apparently gone missing, and you hated the flutter in your stomach at the growl in his angry voice.
"Stop that," Karlach said, glancing up at you as the pair of you cooked, Karlach helping you roast root vegetables evenly.
"Stop what?"
"Mooning over him," she said, jerking her head in Astarion's direction.
Your body flushed with heat. "I'm not—"
"You are, and we can all tell, and you should just get it over with, but only if you mean it."
You frowned, tearing your eyes away from the blessed sight that was Astarion basking in the sun. "Sorry, what?"
Karlach sighed. "If you sleep with him—" You spluttered. "—it had better be because you truly want him and not because you're bleeding."
You blinked at her. "Karlach, of course I want him, you've heard me talk about him before this!"
"I know, I know," she relented, "but I have a feeling there's more to our vampire than meets the eye." She glanced over at Astarion. "Just...be kind to him, dear. He's more fragile than he looks."
You followed her gaze over to him. He was stretching, his arms lifted high above his head, undoubtedly oblivious to the two of you watching him. Want and need bubbled up inside of you, both clamoring for Astarion, agreeing that he would fulfill them both. The deep-seated lust you'd had for him since he'd first put a knife to your neck burned even brighter as the breeze that had been kicking up dust all morning played with the silver hair curling around his ears.
His nostrils flared and you knew he'd smelled you. He looked over at you and Karlach and you froze. She waved cheerily, then frowned at you when you didn't move. You swallowed harshly and went back to removing the scales from the fish in your lap.
"He doesn't like not being around you either, you know," Karlach said, returning to the task at hand. "He's always looking at you when you're not looking. You're perfect for each other like that."
"I don't want to make this harder for him by being around him," you said, glancing back over at him. He was watching you as he poured himself a glass of wine. Had it been normal circumstances, when you weren't driving him insane simply by smelling like blood, you would have teased him for day-drinking. "He's already so hungry, I'd only make that worse. It was bad enough I threw myself at him covered in his favorite snack!"
Karlach snorted. The sound of a light laugh floated over to you and you looked up to find Astarion smirking into his goblet. He beckoned you over and your eyes grew wide.
"Excuse me for a moment, Karlach," you said, clearing your throat.
Karlach followed your gaze and giggled. "More than a moment, dear. I'll come back later to help you finish this." She left the log you'd been sharing and you waited until she was in her own tent again before you jumped to your feet and practically ran to Astarion.
"Hello, darling," he purred. "Care for a drink?"
"I could go for a little," you said.
Astarion smiled, that rakish charm summoning warmth that spread through your entire body. "I hope you like red," he said, and put his own goblet to your lips.
You held his gaze as you drank. You saw his nostrils flare, his pupils growing large. You knew he could hear how your heart was racing, could smell your arousal mixing with your blood.
He pulled the goblet away from your lips and took another swig. You licked the red wine off your lower lip and heard the breath catch in his chest.
"You're starving, aren't you?"
"You have no idea," he whispered.
"I might," you said. "Thought I'd say it's a hunger of a different kind."
Astarion's smirk was so wide you could see his fangs clearly. "Oh, really, darling?"
You nodded, taking a step closer to him. He breathed in deeply. "We could help each other, you know. Satiate our hungers."
His eyes grew dark, trained on yours. "Is that so?" He raised his hand, nearly brushing your cheek, but stopped himself just before he touched you. "You'd let me soothe your pain by..." His gaze dropped to your waistline. "...eating from you?"
A tremor passed through you at the sound of his voice, deeper than you'd ever heard it, laced with a danger and a seduction you were embarrassed to find attractive. Your body was tuned to it, his words seeming to drop like a stone from your ears to your core, spreading fire through your veins and melting your organs.
Astarion took a small step closer to you and took your chin in three gentle fingers, tilting your head up toward him. For a moment, you thought he might kiss you then and there. "I'm going to need an answer, darling."
"Yes." You couldn't get the word out fast enough. It came out breathy, nearly lost on the wind still swirling between you.
He chuckled. "Well, then. You asked for it." He dropped the hand on your chin back to his side. "Once everyone else is asleep, come find me. We'll find a quiet place and...have a little fun."
~❊~
Of all the nights, it had to be this one where everyone came to check on you before they went to sleep. Thanks to Astarion avoiding you like the plague when the two of you had become inseparable, your monthly bleed had become public knowledge. So practically everyone in camp came to you with solutions you declined, claiming to feel fine, even though your pain had worsened over the course of the day.
You watched Astarion slink off into the forest after the sun had gone down and waited until the others were sequestered in their tents, nearly an hour later, to pull your boots back on, stand on shaky feet, and follow the path you assumed he'd taken.
You had started to believe you'd taken a wrong turn somewhere when you heard his cool voice from behind you: "There you are. I've been waiting."
Astarion stepped out of the shadows. He ran his gaze over you, observing your slightly hunched stance, your hand on your lower abdomen. Your shoulders relaxed at the sight of him; he looked softer in the moonlight. The silver light fell across his curls and the statuesque panes of his face, somehow making that face that was so gaunt with hunger unbelievably beautiful.
He looked like a poet or a god, even in just the simple shirt he insisted on wearing around camp instead of the finer silks you knew he carried with him. Or perhaps it was the simplicity that made him so godly. You couldn't tell.
A frown graced his brow. "The pain is worse now, isn't it?"
You nodded. "Just a bit."
Astarion left the small hill he stood on and came closer to you. He offered you his hand. "Come on, dear, let me make you feel better."
You let him guide you away from the path you had taken and into a small clearing just a few feet away, conveniently hidden by thickets, trees, and tall grass. He stood aside, letting you take it in for a moment, as if waiting for your approval of the place. You looked down at the mossy ground and decided it would be soft enough.
"Well, this is nice," you said, seconds before you heard fabric rustling. You turned and blinked rapidly at what you saw: Astarion, his shirt now off and in his hands. You watched him lay it down where the ground was most level. Your breath caught horribly in your throat at the sight of the scar covering his back. You fought back the urge to ask, knowing it would only piss him off.
He turned back to you with a smile. "Your bed for the evening, my love," he said, gesturing to it.
"Oh, Astarion, I can't, I don't want to get blood on your shirt. What would the others—"
Astarion cupped your face in one hand. "The others will assume I hunted something and got messy," he said. "And I'll enjoy your scent while I have it."
Flutters in your stomach nearly brought you to your knees. You looked up at him, drawing in a tiny breath, and brought your hand up to hold the wrist that cradled your cheek.
"Please," you whispered, unsure of exactly what you were begging for but knowing what you wanted.
"Promise me you'll tell me if...I'm too much," Astarion said, and you got the sense he'd changed what he was going to say.
You nodded, whispering your promise, and wound your free hand into the hair at the nape of his neck, standing on your tiptoes to push your lips to his.
It was a messy first kiss. It was little more than teeth and spit, but it felt like heaven anyway, because his free arm was winding around your waist and pressing your bodies together, his leg sliding between yours. Bliss spread through you, starting at your core.
Astarion pulled away from you. "Someone's eager, isn't she?"
You whimpered and he stifled it with another kiss, softer than the first. He was gentle, more than you'd expected from a starving man. He cupped the back of your head and your hand dropped to his hip. You opened your mouth to him and reveled in the feeling of his tongue sliding against yours. He made a soft sound of satisfaction and pushed his leg up against your clothed core. You moaned loudly, your grip on him tightening. Need flooded you and your hips pushed down on his leg, finding relief in the pressure.
The two of you pressed your foreheads together, breathing heavily.
"Shh, darling, not too loud. You don't want the others to come investigate, do you?" His cheeky tone suggested he would love it if the others found the two of you like this—or, perhaps, further along.
You wrapped both arms around his neck and buried your head into his shoulder, heat burning through you, a mix of embarrassment and pleasure. You felt like there was a pendulum inside you, swinging constantly between wanting to slow down, afraid of coming off as too eager, and desperately needing him to get to it.
Astarion chuckled. "Don't hide, love." He smoothed his hand over your hair. "You do trust me, don't you?"
You kissed his shoulder and heard his breath catch. "With my life, Astarion."
"Are you ready?"
You nodded and he walked you over to his shirt and helped you to sit on it. He watched you lay down, his gaze falling your exposed neck. There was something more than hunger in his eyes; it made your breathing hitch.
Astarion crawled over you and placed his hand underneath your head before he kissed you. You draped your arm over his shoulders, holding him close to you, enjoying the soft touch of his lips against yours. It was chaste, as were the next few that followed it in quick succession, one after the other.
One hand slid down your body and stopped at the hem of your trousers. He tugged at the shirt tucked into them. "Darling? May I?"
"Please do," you said.
"Arms up."
He pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it to the side. He looked down at your torso from where he straddled your hips. His hands skimmed over you and he leaned down, pressing more gentle kisses to your neck and collarbones. Your body tingled with remembrance, practically yearning to feel his fangs sink into your neck, to feel your blood leave you with a burning that felt like intoxication.
"Astarion." His name was a breathy cry on your lips, and you saw how much he liked the sound of it when he looked up at you, a smile curving onto the lips still pressed to your skin.
"Yes, dear?"
You gently coaxed him back up to you with your hand on his chin. "Let me kiss you."
He smiled, brighter than the moonlight falling around you, and you pressed your mouth to his. He hummed happily into your mouth, a pleasant sensation that made you reluctant to break the kiss. But you did, kissing along his jaw and down his neck instead. You nipped gently at his neck, pulling a surprised laugh from him.
"Really, darling? Biting the vampire?" Astarion's eyes were sparkling with amusement. His face had relaxed into an easy smile. It was a good look on him; you liked it.
You giggled and placed another kiss over the bite. The pair of you rolled onto your sides and you peppered his chest with kisses, your arm wrapped loosely around his waist. You went back up to his neck and sucked lightly.
"So much for the others not knowing," he teased.
You looked at him through your lashes. "What if I want them to know?"
"Cheeky little thing," he whispered, dragging a finger down the side of your face. "As much as I love this—and believe me, I do love this—I can't wait any longer. I'm starving, darling. Let me taste you. Please."
Slightly subdued, you rolled onto your back. "Alright," you whispered, your chest tightening in anticipation.
Astarion climbed on top of you again. He undid the laces at the front of your trousers and slipped his hand inside them, moving slowly and keeping his eyes locked on yours.
The moment two of his fingers slid between your wet folds, your eyes fluttered shut and a happy sigh slipped from your lips.
"There she is," he whispered, his eyes half-lidded, as he worked you gently and slowly. You felt the blood and arousal gather on his fingers as he grew closer to your entrance. He dragged them back up to your clit and rubbed in a slow circle. You gasped, arching into his touch. Astarion giggled. "Oh, you like that, don't you?"
You wriggled underneath him, trying everything in your power to get more of his touch. He smiled down at you, kissing your cheek and cooing softly at you. If he spoke words, you didn't hear them, too lost in the pleasure he easily, skillfully, brought to you.
Without warning, Astarion plunged both fingers into your entrance. You moaned, grabbing at his hair. He chuckled, curling his fingers inside you. Whimpers slipped past your lips; you couldn't have controlled them if you tried, but you were by no means trying. His smile grew with every sound you made, and you wanted nothing more than to see that smile.
Just as suddenly as he'd pushed his fingers in, he pulled them out. You whined instantly but he shushed you and removed his hand from your pants. A small streak of blood was left on the skin of your stomach as he raised his hand to his mouth. You watched raptly as he licked your blood from his fingers, never once breaking eye contact with you.
He wasn't even touching you and the fire in your belly grew at the sight.
Astarion moaned softly around his fingers. You watched his deft tongue catch every drop of blood, thinned by your arousal, from his hand. He whispered your name in a whine and you let go of a long breath.
Once he'd licked his fingers clean, he bent down and yanked your trousers off your legs. You spread them automatically and he put one leg between them. He pulled off your undergarments and sat back, admiring your naked body with a satisfied smirk.
"Look at you," he whispered.
The need for him to touch you won out over the desire for him to keep staring at you. "Astarion." His name was a loud whine, emphasized by your writhing hips.
He chucked. "Needy girl." His hand returned to your cunt, his palm applying pressure to your clit while his fingers toyed with your bloody folds. His eyes practically rolled into the back of his head, the smell of blood so heady even you could smell it.
He teased your entrance for a moment and pulled his fingers back up, the tips of them coated in thick blood that looked black in the night. He sucked it from his fingers with a toothy smile, his fangs peeking out over his bottom lip.
You pushed your hips up enough to catch his eye. "Please," you whimpered.
"Alright, love, alright," he said. He put his hand back and slipped his fingers back inside you. Relief curled through you—as did his fingers. "I'll starve myself a bit longer for your pleasure."
You cupped his neck and brought his face to yours and kissed him fiercely. He made a surprised but pleased sound into your mouth and quickened his pace. You gasped against his lips and he ducked his head to your neck, kissing you quickly with every curl of his fingers.
You twisted your fingers through his hair, rapidly kissing the top of his head, pushing your hips up into his hand. He chuckled, his breath ghosting over your skin and raising goosebumps. You shuddered in his arms.
"I've got you," he murmured, sucking a light mark into your neck. You felt his teeth prick you and saw the shudder that passed through his body at the tiny droplets of blood that appeared.
He pulled away from your neck and curled his fingers just so. You groaned.
"Astarion!" you cried, throwing your head back.
He grinned and quickened his pace. You sucked in a deep breath, fighting back tears of pleasure.
"Let go, darling," he whispered. "I've got you."
Astarion looked back down at your neck. He locked eyes with you as he pressed his tongue to your skin, slowly licking up the droplets as they began to run down your neck. The combination of his intense stare and the movement of his fingers was all you needed; with a loud cry, you came on his fingers, your walls clenching so hard around him he could hardly keep moving them.
He chuckled. "That's it, dear, that's it." He cooed softly, helping you through it with his voice, his soft touch, and gentle kisses to your lips.
You were breathing hard when he finally pulled his fingers out of you. You whimpered at the slight pain but realized your cramps had all but disappeared.
Judging by the state of his hand, you didn't want to know how bloody his shirt was. It looked as though he'd reached into someone's chest and ripped their heart out; his hand was drenched and rivulets of blood ran all the way down to his elbow.
Astarion giggled at the sight while you burned with embarrassment. "Well, well, well. Someone's happy, isn't she?"
"So are you," you said, nodding to the bulge in his pants.
He grinned. "Well, what did you expect? You were quite vocal, my needy little thing." His eyes drifted back down to your cunt, lust curling through his gaze. "Tight and wet and utterly desperate for me."
He licked a stripe up his hand, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh, darling, you taste good." He sucked your blood off of every finger, pleasure sliding over his face.
You smiled. "There's more where that came from."
Astarion raised one perfect brow. "Can you handle another little death?" he teased.
You nodded. "I can take a few more."
He chuckled and groaned at the same time. "Oh, my love, don't make promises you can't keep."
You met his gaze as he finished cleaning off his hand. "Believe me, I can keep it."
The vampire grinned. "Very well, then. I'll eat good tonight."
He kissed you chastely as he put his hand between your legs again.
Astarion brought you pleasure unlike anything you'd ever felt before as his fingers slid over your blood-slick skin, teasing your folds and entrance with a smirk, often just barely inserting the tip of his finger before pulling it out again and tracing over your clit and smearing blood across your skin. He kissed and sucked on your breasts, leaving darkening bruises and tiny scratches from his teeth, licking up the tiny beads of blood that sprung from each nick. He kissed along the line of scarring and stitches you had gotten from your injury, fading fast but still a reminder of what had gotten you on your back for him in the first place. Now that he'd eaten a little, he was intently focused on bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, again and again and again.
He worked another orgasm out of you and was on his way to coaxing out the third when you stopped him.
"Is it too much?" he asked, frowning. His unbloodied hand moved to rest on your hip, his thumb smoothing over your skin. His eyes searched your face, looking for anything to tell him why you'd stopped him.
You shook your head. "I need more, Astarion," you gasped, slurring his name into Astari. The unintended nickname made him blush. "I need more of you. Please. Please."
The smile returned to his face, cockier than before. "Oh, darling. I need more of you, too," he said, looking into your cunt and licking his lips. "I could just eat you up."
You spread your legs wider. He settled between them. "Please do."
He breathed in deep and his eyes practically rolled back into his head. "You're going to be the death of me— Ah. Well, you would be, if I was alive."
You frowned. "Would this even be happening if you were alive?"
Astarion thought for a moment. "Let's not think about the logistics," he decided and licked the drying blood from his fingers off your abdomen. Your body trembled. He lifted your legs over his shoulders. You squeaked and smiled at him.
"Lay back," he whispered. You obliged him.
Wet warmth touched your skin just above your clit and you glanced down at him, watching him slowly lick the drying blood from your skin. He kissed your skin as he cleaned it, leaving you covered in slowly darkening bruises.
You stared at the stars as he pressed a soft first kiss to your clit. You let out a slow breath and he began to suck, his lips closing around it, his tongue licking light stripes.
You pushed your hips against his mouth. "Circles," you whispered.
"As you wish," he said, his breath fanning over your cunt and making you tremble. He went back to his feast, licking in circles this time, and you let out a soft whimper. You reached down and he reached up, lacing your fingers together and squeezing your hand. You squeezed back.
He moved further down until his nose bumped your clit and his lips found your entrance. He moaned, the sound deep and guttural, at the taste of your blood. He lapped at your entrance, his tongue sweeping up the blood as soon as it collected there. You shuddered, your breaths coming in heaves.
Astarion kissed your entrance once before he dove in, pushing his tongue into your cunt. You gasped and he laughed and buried his face in you.
Through the pleasure, you wondered dimly how he was breathing (did he, as a vampire, need to breathe?), but the thought was pushed away the moment his splayed fingers on your hip dug into your flesh and pulled you even closer to his mouth.
The sounds you were making were obscene: your moans were loud and coarse, and your cunt squelched lewdly as he drank your blood and arousal. You felt filthy, aware that the mix was running down your legs and buttocks but knowing the vampire eating you out was enjoying you too much to care.
Astarion himself was quite vocal, moaning into you and making you shiver. He whimpered, whined, groaned, and keened, growing louder with every swallow of blood. He alternated between watching you writhe and squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure.
You watched his hand slide from your hip to his bulge. He palmed himself through his trousers, hissing in pleasure, and the sight was enough to send you over the edge for a third time.
But Astarion didn't let up. He lapped at you, sucking so harshly your pleasure bordered pain, until your legs stopped shaking and your breathing evened out.
He lifted his head with a grin. "How do I look?"
You looked at him and started laughing. He was the smiliest you had ever seen him, his eyes practically glowing, and the lower half of his face was covered in your blood. His teeth were stained red and sticky blood dripped slowly from his fangs. It ran down his chin in rivulets and splatters dotted his lower cheeks like freckles. Some of it was even in his hair.
"You're ridiculous," you giggled. "And a messy eater."
He snorted. "Excuse you!"
"It's all over your face!"
He sat up with a grin, licking his lips. "You mean you are all over my face."
Satisfaction curled through you. "Yes," you said, reaching for him. He took your hand again. "Yes I am."
He wiped his face with his hand and licked it clean once again. You reached up and wiped some off on your thumb, then held it out to him. He took your thumb into his mouth and sucked. Your heart stopped beating.
"Feeling better?" he asked you, lightly placing his palm over your abdomen, applying a little pressure, and rubbing gentle circles.
"Much better," you said. "Thank you. But, ah..." Your gaze drifted from his beautiful, if slightly pink, face and down to his bulge. It was just as, if not more, prominent now that he'd gone down on you. "What about you?"
Astarion smirked. "I like your enthusiasm, but don't worry about me. Not tonight, darling."
You frowned. "Why not? What if I want you inside of me?" You walked two fingers up his leg and slowly covered his crotch with your palm. When he didn't protest and his eyes fluttered shut, you gave him a gentle squeeze. He let out a soft moan through closed lips and tilted his head back. You kissed the column of his neck and bit down gently. You sucked—hard—and a rumbling moan came from his chest.
"Because," he said finally, drawing in a ragged breath. "Because that would be a terrible waste of your precious blood." He looked at you with half-lidded eyes. "When this is over, I promise you, you can have as much of me as you want." He pushed his hips into your hand and you gave him another gentle squeeze. He gasped.
You nuzzled into him and his arm wrapped around your shoulders, holding you there. "And what if I want all of you?"
The question hung in the air. He looked at you for a long time and suddenly you saw the fragility Karlach had mentioned this afternoon, which felt like years ago instead of mere hours. You reached up to cup his cheek and, though you were stark naked, the sexual desire in the air seemed to have disappeared.
"I want all of you, Astari," you whispered. The nickname made his eyes grow wide. "All of you, in every way, for as long as possible. If you'll let me. If you want me, too."
He whimpered, and the sound was broken. You hated hearing that pain coming from him. "I want you, I do, I just..." He closed his eyes and you were suddenly very sure there was a darkness, a secret, he was trying to hide from you. You were certain it had to do with his vampiric master he'd so often complained about. "I'll try, my darling, I'll try for you."
You sat up on your knees and cupped his face in both hands and kissed him. You didn't break the kiss once as you pressed your body against his and held him tightly. You felt the scar on his back and wanted to ask but didn't, letting him keep his secrets for now.
His arms came around you, cradling your back and holding you tight to him. The kiss became a long-lasting hug, the both of you burying your heads in each other's shoulders until Astarion pulled away from you, a smile on his face. You returned that smile and sat back on your heels.
His eyes trailed over your body again. There was a note of nervousness in his voice as he asked, "Darling, would you mind...touching me again? I could use some relief."
You grinned. "Of course, my love. All you had to do was ask."
Relief crossed his face. He leaned back as you trailed your hand from his shoulder, down his chest, and back to his bulge. You tipped his head back with your free hand and kissed his neck while you rubbed him. He pushed his hips into your hand, sighing blissfully, and your hand was in his trousers in seconds. He grew loud, thrusting his cock into your hand with a power that surprised you.
"Take what you need," you told him, your voice hushed, your lips directly next to his ear. "Help me give you what you want."
He whimpered, your name a broken cry from his lips, and he cuddled into you as he came. He buried his head into your neck, hiding his eyes and barely holding back grunts. As his thrusts grew weaker and you slowed your hand on him, you felt hot tears on your neck and wondered what this poor man had been through that he hadn't yet told you.
You removed your hand from his pants and he immediately wrapped you in another hug, one strong enough to knock you down and knock the breath of you. You held him as tightly as he held you.
When Astarion at last pulled away from you, his tears had stopped but his eyes still shone with them. He kissed you softly.
"Thank you," he whispered. "I... Thank you."
You brushed some of his hair from his face. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. You were... It's just that no one has cared about me during sex in a very long time and...you did. So...thank you."
You took his hand and squeezed it. "Oh, Astarion," you cooed. "I always care about you. Like this or otherwise. You could stop this right now—or before it even began—and I wouldn't have stopped caring about you."
He smiled. "Oh, darling. I love the sentiment, but I'm not done with you yet."
Astarion kissed down your body and laid between your legs again. He licked another stripe up your cunt and you saw the coating of blood on his tongue before he swallowed. "Shall we try for a fourth? Or perhaps even a fifth?" He raised his brow, leaving the decision up to you.
You laid back. "We'll try for as many as you'd like," you said.
He bared his teeth in a feral grin. "All night it is!"
~❊~
You woke up the next morning sore and alone and with very little sleep.
Astarion had been relentless and stopped only when you simply couldn't take it anymore and he was practically drunk on your blood—all without making you bloodless and woozy. When you had finished for the final time, he had cleaned you up, helped you back into your clothes, picked up his own shirt, and walked you back to camp. He was so gentle that you didn't even mind the teasing about how you limped.
Dawn hadn't been far off as you each went back to your tents after exchanging a final, solid kiss. So you woke to the sound of everyone else beginning their day just a few hours later.
You felt the soreness in your core before you even moved. Biting back a sigh and not regretting it one bit as you pictured Astarion's happy, bloody face, you rolled over and hoped your recent injury would be enough for the others to let you sleep in.
You were wrong.
Shadowheart opened your tent a few minutes later with a urgency that made you jump.
"What? What's wrong?" you asked, blinking blearily in the bright sunlight.
"Are you alright? You never sleep in, you're always up making breakfast!"
You groaned. "Is that it? Are you just hungry?"
She peered at you. "Are you hurt? Did your wound reopen?"
"What? No! I'm fine, I'm just tired, that's all! I have lost a lot of blood recently, in case you forgot."
She sighed. "Oh. Alright. Well, just know the others are worried, too—Astarion especially."
You remembered how he'd checked in on you last night and had asked if he'd hurt you at all when you'd returned to camp and wondered if you had worried him by sleeping in. Suddenly you were grateful the others could chalk it up to his not-so-secret crush on you.
You dressed and hid the light bruises on your neck and collarbones in a high-collared shirt. You only noticed you were walking with a slight limp still after you'd left your tent and made your way across camp.
Karlach called your name and was at your side immediately. "You're limping! Are you hurt? Do you need me to fetch Shadowheart?"
You blinked at her. "What? No. I'm fine!"
"You don't look fine," Gale said, a few feet away, looking up from the book he'd been engrossed in for days. "Did you hurt your leg the other day? Or have your stitches ripped?"
"My, my," said a suave voice behind you. You turned and found Astarion grinning like a cat. "You do have quite the limp, there, darling. Are you sure you're alright?"
You huffed at him, your body remembering his touch immediately, his ghostly hands sliding across your skin. "I'm fine, I promise. Now hush and someone help me make breakfast."
Both Karlach and Astarion sat with you, Astarion very close to you and giving you a smile you couldn't help but return. Karlach stared at Astarion like he'd grown two heads, her gaze flickering between the two of you. She gasped very suddenly.
"Not a word," you hissed at her, knowing she'd figured it out.
Astarion smirked.
"And nothing from you, either," you added. "You're the reason I'm walking like this, you bastard."
He smiled sweetly at you, catching the fondness in the words. "And I gladly will be again." He took your hand and lifted it to his mouth, kissing it. Your eyes grew wide.
Karlach squeaked.
"You know nothing," you told her. "At least for a little while."
"Yes," Astarion agreed. "At the very least, tell Shadowheart nothing—I broke my promise to her to keep our dear girl from doing any strenuous activity."
You turned red and Karlach groaned, "Not before breakfast, please!"
Astarion opened his mouth—undoubtedly to say something about how you were technically his breakfast, based on the hour you'd returned to camp—but you moved quicker than he could speak. You grabbed him by the collar and yanked him toward you, kissing him heartily to shut him up.
A heavy silence settled over camp. You cracked one eye open and found the rest of your companions staring at the pair of you, mouths agape and eyes wide.
"Oops," Astarion muttered, sounding rather pleased.
You cleared your throat. "I, ah, I've been meaning to tell you all. Honestly."
Gale heaved a sigh. "How much do I owe you, Wyll?"
Your jaw dropped open. "You placed bets?!"
"Alright, you bloodsucker," Wyll said, holding his hand out and waiting for his payment from Gale. "You win."
"Yes," Astarion said, and you expected him to be wearing a smirk infused with his charm, his triumphant eyes on the others. But when you turned to him, he was staring at you, a dopey smile fixed on his face. "Yes, I did."
☞ ❊ ☜
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Baldur's Gate 3 // Astarion Acunin
part 2 (Sweet Like Wine) {here}!
Taglist: {comment and let me know if you'd like to be added to the Astarion taglist!}
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callofdudes · 9 months
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ive been in the mood for some angst, some good ol' hurt/comfort or even hurt/no comfort. how would the 141 react to finding out their s/o has been kidnapped? their reactions to finding the ransom note, and how they would get their beloved back?
I wrote headcanons for this.... And then I wasn't happy with it, but I liked the headcanons enough to not want to get rid of them so I apologize if it's a mess. It's been a really emotional and draining couple days for me. But I wanted to get something out even if this was all I could produce.
Price 🥃
Don't mess with him. You mess with him or his family and he'll rock your shit. He is brutal and I know we all like to pretend he's the loving father figure he is 100% of the time but truth is this man is ruthless.
It doesn't matter who he has to kill to get you back he will. Whatever or whoever stands in his way between him and you is gonna get got.
This is pretty much true for all of the guys. But Price is that, I've been married for like 11 years don't fuck with my family.
When Price finds the note he's rightfully furious, he's scared, but overall he's furious that they would dare to put their hands on you. To take you away and then threaten him with your demise, of worse.
Giving Price exactly 48 hours to hand over the money whatever organization wanted it wasn't a smart option. In fact, none of this was smart. The note mentioned what would become of you if the instructions were not followed.
He tucked the note in his pocket and without hesitation he dialed the phone number that was on the paper. He remained calm, as he did with any enemy.
"If you think of hurting them, I will not hesitate to kill you." Said in a low voice. The kind that remains calm but you can tell he means every word coming out of his mouth.
"We won't have to hurt them if you give us what we want." The soldier on the other line sneered.
John was absolutely terrified inside. He knew how to handle this situation with civilians and his own teammates but this was you. You. What If they killed him or he didn't get there in time??
He didn't hesitate before doing a deep dive on the organization as far as the eye could see. The idiot stupid enough to leave his phone number got their 20 second call tracked and he didn't need to have the location before he was up and out.
He'd either bring a team or go alone but knowing Price he'd probably go alone. Brutal killing. Brutal killing.
I mean all the normal military stuff but with some extra aggression. Affectionate dad mode has turned into 'Slaughter everything that ever moved with extra violence husband mode.'
He searches every room and he doesn't stop until he knows their dead. He'd leave a few lost soldiers in favor of getting to you. While he would kill them all his main priority is finding you and making sure you're ok.
Lots of kisses and reassurance when he finds you alive and ok. If you're unharmed he probably untie you from your holding place and pull you in tightly, kissing you and hugging you, telling you he's here. He's here and it's ok. Nothing, nothing will ever hurt you. Not on his watch.
"I've got you love, I've got you." He kisses your forehead, then your lips. "I'm here darling, you're ok, you're safe."
You fall into his arms, crying and grabbing onto him tightly. "I thought they were going to killed me- John!"
Price holds you tightly, kissing the side of your head. "Oh love I'd never let that happen, I would never let that happen you hear me??" You still cry, grabbing onto him even as he picks you up, holding you in his arms as if he would protect you from the whole world. And he would. Nothing would ever hurt you.
If you are injured then all those dead men out there?? Oh yeah, he's going to shoot all of them again just for good measure. If you are hurt any leniency he had for soldiers still hiding around the place is gone. Will blow up the facility. To pieces. Fucking bye!
You whimpered, looking up at him, blood trickling down your forehead into your eye and matted in your hair. "John...." Price cut your bindings and pulled you into his arms.
"They hurt you... Which one of them hurt you!?"
You grabbed onto him, shaking and crying as he wraps his arms around you. "I'll kill them all. I'll kill them for what they've done. They won't lay another hand on you." He growls, holding you close.
He gets you home and doesn't leave your side, but you don't mind the cuddles and how he stays up later than usual that night keeping his eye on you that he falls asleep next to you on the couch.
If you come back injured he tends to your wounds, lays you down in bed and stays awake with your head on his chest, stroking his hand through your hair and over your scalp, feeling your warmth and comfort in knowing you came out ok.
"How are you feeling?"
"Still shaken up." You whisper, nuzzled up against his chest, laying under his chin. "You?"
"Just glad you're alive. So so glad you're alive." He hugs you tightly, kissing your head. "I love you." You snuggle up, tears rolling down your cheeks. "I know you'll always be to my rescue John."
"Always, I won't ever let someone hurt you like that. Never."
Gaz 🧢
Gaz can do ok with confrontation. Even though he doesn't like it, he usually lets his gun do all his talking for him. The barrel to their face and they usually shut up pretty quickly.
Gaz definitely leaves the intimidation up to his weapons. But when you're kidnapped and taken hostage? Fuck that. Fuck all of that. You are feeling the full force fury of one Kyle Garrick and you don't want that.
The fuck around and find out type.
A little better at regulating his emotions when he finds the note. When he reads it his face is full of rage if you look into his eyes. The scowl forming is palpable to his rage. Crumpling the note up in his hand before dropping it to the ground.
He doesn't hesitate to grab his gun, his hat and his car keys. Someone is gonna get their ass beat.
It's on the way that he gets a call from the people who have kidnapped you, giving him a verbal warning of the damage you would suffer in the next 48 hours if the deal wasn't closed.
"You have 48 hours to get me that money do you understand?? Or your love is bye-bye."
Kyle remains silent on the phone, glaring down the drive, his foot pressing into the pedal. "Every finger you put on their skin, I'll cut it off." He hisses before ending the call.
Their first mistake was giving Kyle their location to meet. Gaz is wicked with technology when he gets his hands on it.
When they tell him where to meet and drop the money he does a quick search, surveying the area and finding all possible exits, entry roads. Buildings, abandoned or not. All while still in the car.
When he finds an old abandoned warehouse with some built in security perimeters he figures it's his good first bet.
Again, his gun does the talking. And his gun has one nasty bite. By the time he's tromped through the enemy troops he's dripping I'm blood because once he shoots he just keeps trucking. Dropping the entrance and eventually when he finds some men in the room with you it's all fists.
He wants a good fight and they don't even get a chance before Kyle has them on the ground giving them the beating of their life.
If he finds you uninjured he'll rush to you and make sure you know you're safe, then untie you and hold you in his arms, kissing you until he runs out of air.
"I'm here baby, I'm here. Come here, come on, let's get you home." Kissing your temple as he picks you up and carries you out. "Shh, I'm here now, I'm so glad you're ok." He kneels in front of you, untying you and pulling you into his arms.
"Kyle-" you look back at the men, bloodied and dead. You cling onto Kyle with tears in your eyes, shaking in his arms. "They were going to kill me...."
"I'd never let that happen. And their damn fools if they think they would get away with this." He looks into your eyes. "I'm right here ok? You're ok."
If you are injured he'll gently pick you up in his arms and carry you back, treating your wounds and then holding you close to him.
"Shh," He pushes a strand of your hair back, settling you in his lap, his bloodied hand running through the blood that runs down your nose and your lip. "They can't lay another hand on you." He shakes a little, tear rolling down his cheek as he kisses your forehead, relieved to feel your warm body in his hands. "I love you so much. I love you so much." He whispers.
Arms wrapped under your, cupping your back to keep you close to him throughout the entire night. Reassured whatever state you're in, you're home. You're back home with him and nothing will ever hurt you.
You comb your fingers over his scalp, glad to be wrapped in his strong embrace. "I love you Kyle." You whisper. Kyle nods, pulling you as close as he possibly can. "I love you even more."
Ghost 💀
You'd think this would be easy, but it's actually not. Simon's reaction would be similar but could go one of two ways. He'd either be blood thirsty, angry. Carnage, teeth ripping, flesh tearing, head snapping psycho angry. Or he'd be worrying about your safety, pacing back and forth looking for any way, any how he could get you back. Both emotions are present in both cases but one would be more dominant.
So let's say he's both. He finds the note and he's furious. He's absolutely blood red visioned. But he knows if he does anything rash it could cost you your life.
Again, he'd either be the type to go on his own or call his team. But he'd only call his team if he seriously, seriously thought maybe he wouldn't be able to save you and not himself.
The note was easy, finding finger prints on the thing was like second nature to scan. Identifying those fingerprints with help from a friend, also pretty easy.
With his 48 hour slot to either complete the deal or sacrifice your life he set off to find you. Armed to the teeth. Quite literally.
And once he got to the base you know what happens. Ghost do what Ghost does. Carnage. Blood and limbs torn. His gun being his main weapons but like Gaz was not afraid to get his hands soaked in that moment.
He wanted to go rage on the whole base but his objective was you. Snuck in, took out anyone in his way and found you.
If you're uninjured he'll rush to you and make sure you're awake. He'll immediately cut your bindings and pull you up into his arms. He can embrace you and kiss you when you're safe. But rest assured now that you're in his arms he won't let you go. He gets the car far enough away and pulls you into his arms, kissing you until he can't breathe.
He pulls you from the corner of the room into his arms. "I'm here, I'm here love don't worry." He holds you close, hiding you in his embrace as he brings you back out of the base and to the car. When he gets to safely away you start to cry.
"Simon," you cling onto him, shaking and relieved.
"I got you baby, I've got you." He whispers, pulling up his mask and kissing you. Kissing you until he was sure you wouldn't disappear into thin air. "I'm right here, I'm going to get you home." He runs his thumb over your cheek, relieved your alive.
He's lost family members like this before, he'd never want to lose you to that. And he almost did. He almost lost the most important person in his life.
If you are injured fuck stealth. All those men?? He'll slaughter and bludgeon all of them so badly their families won't know who their burying. That's that happens when you mess with people he loves. He gave them a chance to possibly get out alive if they hadn't hurt you, but they had. And that was the wrong decision.
"Where are you injured??" Simon cups your cheek, looking down to see the blood dripping onto your shirt and soaking your collar. He was furious, but he pulled you into his arms and held you close. "It's ok, they won't lay one more fucking hand on you. I promise. I'll kill them for touching you, I promise I will baby not one will be left."
He brought you to the car and kissed your nose. Once he'd gotten you secure and ok, he cocked his gun and finished off the last of that base.
When he returned again you cried into his chest while he held you, kissing the top of your head. "I'm sorry love. it's over. It's over, I won't ever, ever let anyone hurt you like that again.
He brought you home and held you in his arms, refusing to let you go. He would never let anything hurt you. He promised. He would never let the evil of the world hurt people he loved again.
His grip was tight, running his hand up and down your back. He looked into your eyes, seeing your face for a long while before leaning his forehead against yours, tears finally swelling up in his eyes. "I'm so glad you're ok." He whispers, pulling you close again. He'd never let go.
Soap 🧼
John cries. When he comes home from his long leave, expecting a warm hug and a good meal. But when he comes back, the house quiet and empty. The lights off, the love of his life not there to greet him.
And when he finds the note that you've been dragged out of your home and taken hostage for money and information. He was scared, seeing the email at the bottom of the note.
You were one of the most important people in his life and he couldn't fathom the thought of losing you.
He's in tears and shaking when he sends a message to the email, waiting for an agonizing hour before he got an email back. A taunting message acting for the money with a photo of you, a knife to your throat. "Give us the money or your little lover gets it."
Now he was angry. He was sad and scared for you but he was also angry. He contacted Ghost and once he got information on the email and pinned where it was sent from he didn't hesitate.
He was strapped to boot with anything he would need. Hell he threw his favorite bazooka in the back and was off by sunset.
When he gets there he easily takes out the sentinels and gets inside, finding you tied up. He takes out the soldiers guarding you and rushes to your side, holding you gently. "Look at me love, I'm going to bring you home." He kisses your temple and hauls you into his arms.
"We're going home." He assures you again as he brings you outside into the cool air. He walks you out past the perimeter and flicks the button in his hand, the base going up into a flurry of smoke and fire. "No one will lay a hand on you, I promise."
If you aren't injured he's going to set up a bomb and blow the place sky high, sending flames into the night from the inside out.
If you are injured he's still blowing it up.
"Love, love can you hear me??" He tilts your head up, seeing the black eye and your bloody nose. He frowns, immediately undoing your bonds and cradling you in his arms. "I'm not going to let them hurt you anymore. Not one damn second more."
"Johnny.... It hurts." You whispered, clinging onto him for his warmth, his protection.
"I promise you love no one will ever lay a hand on you like this again. I swear to it never again."
He picks you up and brings you out of the base, once he's in the safety perimeter he blows the place sky high. Good riddance.
He won't let anyone hurt you. He loves you, and he vows to protect you with all the resources he has. He would never let you get hurt. He holds you close, maybe even gives you a nice welcome home to get your mind off what you went through.
"Are you really ok love??" He asked, watching you sip the hot chocolate he'd made you. You nod, cuddling closer to him in your PJs. "I know you'll always be there for me."
He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close, lips feathering a kiss to your temple. "Always love, I will always do what I can to keep you safe."
1K notes · View notes
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I admire your patience with those readers who need you to spoon feed them the story. Everything is in the comics but they still manage to go pass it. I can't help but feel a bit sad for them? Do they not understand what they read? Are they not attentive when reading it? I'm legitimately concerned because I function so differently I can't fathom this. If you like a story, isn't it normal to make your best to grasp it's essence and reflect on it? I know I project a lot about this, everyone works and registers things differentely of course but sometimes it's very frustrating to see people consume any media and just completely miss all the important messages in it, or even just fail to get the scenario sometimes, and it feels like it's very common now... Idk I just wanted maybe to have your perspective on this? Sorry for the long post (Been here for a few years now and your a true inspiration to me. All my luv to you! ❤️)
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You know, I'm gonna be honest. I used to stress out about this... a LOT.
As a story-brained person, this is definitely something that comes naturally to me, and perhaps to you, and to many other people who are wired similarly. To us, following the path of a story in an analytic, highly detail-motivated manner and unwrapping the themes can be as exciting as lifting up a rock to see the bugs underneath. It's an exciting mental activity that's stimulating and feels effortless.
And yes, as an author who spends literally 60% of my day thinking about this comic and how to draw it, panel it, script it, make it better (I script and panel in my head constantly)........ I have trouble realizing/dealing with the fact that some people are just here to CASUALLY enjoy the story that I am lowkey obsessed with.
But I've come to realize that... that's NORMAL! And healthy.
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People have different attention spans for different things.
People have varied ways to read a story and engage with it.
People have unique interests.
People don't have the same amounts of energy to devote to reading!
Maybe someone missed a detail I lovingly and painstakingly put into the dialogue because they're reading the update late at night after a long shift at work. And maybe someone scrolled past the dialogue completely and just got the gist from looking at the art, because they're in a hurry to get to practice at their favorite sportsball.
And maybe someone just had a really bad day with a really bad encounter, and they're reading the update in a terrible mood and instead of seeing MY grey-morality narrative, they're focusing on all the negative points and misread the vibes because of their own biases that stem from places of hurt.
The thing is, I have to be okay with that as an author, because I will NEVER be able to get into my audience's heads and read this comic 'correctly' for my own sake.
They will always have a slightly different interpretation of things, and they will always misunderstand details and miss clues. And sometimes, they will be wrong about the way they read a character's motivations... and sometimes maybe they won't be! That's just a part of communication. That's a part of telling a story.
An imperfect delivery, and an imperfect reception should, in my opinion, be a natural and accepted part of storytelling. We're human, and we all have a different lived experience, and we will ALL have different takes on a comic, even if it's so close that we THINK we are both getting the exact same thing. That small human interpretation variation is a home-made touch that makes it feel more organic.
In short.... Not all light particles make it here from the sun, but damn the result is stunning anyway.
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regular-gnome · 5 months
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I adore your Archivists and the lore you make for them and their personalities and relationships between each other and Collector! You don't paint them as Good but misunderstood or cartoonishly evil.
They are god-like entities and their morality system and values are way to different for mortals to easily relate and understand. And good luck for them to not grow up with an issue or two and then proceed to raise a young collector with no problems =3
Also a question if you don't mind👉👈(sorry if you already answered it, my memory is bad TT) So all five of them are collectors(and they are the only ones of their kind), the siblings have a different name for their group why? And our Collector's name is the same as species or will he have something his own later like others when he is older?
The empty, uncaring void filled with extinction and destruction is not a place where kids grow happily without any lasting issues and from a mortal point of view - a weird perception of good but they are trying
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I don't think anyone has asked about this one yet! Their names are related to their identity and that connects to their history; they don't really use individual ones, but rather what describes who they are.
I've put the reasoning and my stab at the lore under the cut since I thought it might be a bit long and not everyone into it (and I just figured out how to add the read more cut so im gonna use it)
They are not the only ones in existence; they are just in this part of the galaxy we see. In the beginning, when the universe wasn't as expanded, the Children of the Stars were closer to each other, exploring the young galaxy together and living among other living creatures - mortals.
After the extinction event that left the children alone on the barren world, they decided not to let it ever happen again. They began collecting life from the surroundings and spread it to uninhabited systems, later establishing the first archive to help with it. Thats when they started call each others collectors, and after creating archive those collectors connected to it that cared for and used it were archivists. It didn't go fantastic, they were young figuring things out on the way, the lessons they learned got contained in the Guidebook everyone took. At this point, they also realized that everything they were doing was not enough. The galaxy was too vast, with too many worlds facing their ends too far apart. They separated making own archives, now too far away to ever really meet and find each other.
On how it realates to names. Collie is a kid, they are a collector so The Collector, they live around the archive but it's not their responsibility at this point -it's The Archivists. As Collector grows up and becomes an Archivist they can take a specific set of tasks and be associated with them taking on a title. However, this also means that titles can change.
The first sibling in the story, after establishing their archive, was just named The Archivist. When another collector grew up to help, they divided roles, with Curator handling organization inside the archive and Naturalist handling "ground work". Later, the tasks of the Naturalists were divided, now becoming Anatomist and dealing with the living environment and Architects handling the unliving aspects . Following Archivist became The Wayfarer, responsible for keeping track of every collected place and noting any changes they undergo. They scout out planets that are to be added to the archive.
I'm not certain what Collie would want to do in the future. I think they might be inclined towards tasks related to being around mortals as they are pretty social, so they could probably take on some responsibilities from Anatomist and Wayfarer. But, I can't say for sure what title they might take
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And here's a fun little aspect: the universe didn't stop expanding. The places their archive reaches keep getting further away and more advanced systems, so planets that are more than basic fauna and flora are more prone to collapsing. At some point, probably when Collie is an Archivist, the archive might have to split, and the names will shift again
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lutawolf · 7 months
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My Personal Weatherman and the D/s element Ep 8
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It's the last episode. I'm excited and sad. For those that haven't read my other episode break-downs, they can be found here.
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The side eye that Yoh gives Segasaki is wonderful. So full of WTF.
First, let me explain that sub scared is not the same as scared scared. For some, that uncertainty and fear isn't something they want to escape from. Never once do you see Yoh truly fight. Let's be honest, homeboy is being sweet, pretending that a shirt could really keep him tied up.
Segasaki is laying down the guidelines. Ahh, and then he realizes that he doesn't want a slave. He's back tracking. This is good evolution for an organic D/s relationship. See how loose that shirt is when Yoh grabs Segasaki. That thing is threatening to come undone on its own.
Ohhh not only is Yoh agreeing to the guidelines, but they are communicating. Nice. Same Segasaki, same. That's exactly how I would describe myself. Aww, the shy cute baby making a move on his Dom. But damn does his Dom like it.
See! See! What did I say about subs? They like that feeling that is like, right before a roller rolls down. Damn, this is hot. Segasaki knows Yoh likes it. Yoh is being a little brat, giving that typical push back because he likes the no, but he's being careful to not push too much because he doesn't want Segasaki to actually stop.
See doesn't really want him to stop.
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Yoh trying to explain or understand, but Dom's protective instincts have been activated. His sub baby is sick.
OMG! Mickey and Minnie are the best! "Try to use more thought in forming your words." DEAD!
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Segasaki's smile! He is so happy to finally understand what Yoh needs from him. Bless it, though, his man is dense. 🤣🤣🤣 Welcome to my life Segasaki, welcome to my life. My man is so fucking smart but so fucking dense. But they are ours, right.
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He is cooking curry and it looks awful! 🤣🤣🤣
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Segasaki is setting up more guidelines! Even talking reward! This is so cute!
Oh!!! Okay, so this may be confusing to some. Segaski asking Yoh to wait for him at the door and greet him when he get home, but this is actually a big thing to many Doms. Let me explain. So, the Dom of the house returning home, it's a significant part of everyday life. When the Dom returns home and closes the door, the D/s couple, who are often not public, can truly be themselves. It’s an important moment to help activate the subservient role, reconnect with each other, and reinforce the dynamic. It's an intimate bond building moment for both parties.
You are seeing it in action. Both parties are getting their needs met and creating a stronger bond. A relationship if not nurtured becomes mundane but with this small thing, you remind each other of how important you are to one another. It's saying, I will put in the effort because I care, value, and respect you. Imagine receiving that message from your loved one every day.
Then the curry. Ahhh, Segasaki is so happy. These two worked a lot of things out. I loved watching it. And now we've come to the end. I'm gonna go re-watch because I love it! I hope you guys enjoyed this. Thank you for taking the time to read it. Hit me up if you have any questions. 💜💜💜
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keeganbrainmush · 1 year
Text
"The stars could never compare to the tears in your eyes." | John " Soap " McTavish x M! Reader
❥It is 12 am have mercy on me. I tried to add as much accent to Soaps words that I could</3. Soap is cooking scot porridge with fruits just because. Not proofread ngl, also Soap has an outgrown mohawk bc who let this man cut his hair???
❥Soap is a whore for you??
❥SMUT. Edging, Praise, Degradation, Begging, Whimpering, Overstimulation. Blowjobs & Handjobs. Soap n Reader are married! Lovingly destroys his organs. Submissive Soap supremacy
❥NSFW below the cut!
navigation.
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The clock read 7:21 AM. Surprised you were even up so early, you stared at your love from across the island where you sat in the kitchen. His slender hands focusing on chopping up some strawberries for his porridge. You stood up and walked around the island to stand at your husbands side, wrapping a hand around his wait as you rest your head against his shoulder.
He turned his head to give your forehead a kiss and continued chopping the red fruit into small bits. You grumbled into your boys shoulder with boredom, an idea suddenly flooding your brain. Moving the hand you hand against his lower waist, you brushed it slightly against his crotch. Watching his hands so you wouldn't be the reason he accidently cut his finger off. He gasped quietly, stopping his movements suddenly, turning to glare at you. " Its 7 in the mornin' n you're already teasing me, love? " He rolled his eyes in a mock-annoyed way.
You looked at him innocently through your eyelashes, turning around to lean on the counter. " Don't you think you've chopped those strawberries into small enough pieces, John? " You teased, looking at the small slivers of fruit on the cutting board. He looked down, suddenly realizing how small they had gotten.
" Fine, I'll do the blueberries now. Do we still have any? " He asked, moving away to fridge and opened the door, moving the items inside around. " I don't think so, dear. We can go to the store if you'd like. " You offered, causing him to nod in return. " I'm gonna go put shoes on, and you. As pretty as you look without a shirt on, should put a sweater on atleast. Can't have others looking at my husband, can I? " You told him, putting a hand on his chest as he raised an eyebrow at you. " Y'know I only have eyes for you, pretty boy. " He told you, pulling you into a hug and burying his face into your neck.
Wrapping his arms around your back as you reciprocated the action. You squirmed in his grip, feeling your crotch brush against his thigh causing you to let out a small whimper. You silently prayed he didn't hear as you tapped his back. " Lets go lover boy, before the store starts getting full. " You told him as he groaned. " But you're so warmm.. " He complained. " Do you want your porridge or not, dearest? You're gonna get hungrier and you barely touch it when it doesn't have blueberries. " You asked. He grumbled something else into your neck. Something about how you knew him to well.
You stood at the door with the car keys and you waited for your husband to finish putting proper clothes on. You looked up to find him walking towards the door. " Ready? " He asked and you hummed in return. Quickly walking towards the passenger door before you could get stuck with driving duty. You also had your own little plan in mind. Soap got into the drivers seat and turned the car on, buckling his seatbelt on. You placed a hand on his thigh casually, moving your thumb in a relaxing manner. People in public would think this was normal couple things, but to Soap, it was one the thing that drew him crazy.
He looked at you rapidly with confused eyes.
" Love.. "
" Something wrong, dearest? " You asked as you turned on your phone, scrolling mindlessly through something as you continued to stroke your thumb, gradually moving your hand up. He sighed and his hipped squirmed as he drove to the store. Finally parking in a spot as he unbuckled his seatbelt. You removed your hand and did the same, stepping out of the car as you waited for Soap. He soon appeared to your side as you both walked into the store, walking towards the fruit section.
You looked at the fruits you liked while Soap looked through the section of Blueberries, his eyes studying the small plastic boxes. You walked over to him as you grabbed his hand. " C'mere.. I wanna show you something! " You told him with enthusiasm, causing him to look at you confusingly. He followed, obviously. Like the good boy he is as you led him to the bathrooms. They were private in their own room, not like the stalls. Perfect.
You looked around before pushing Soap into the room, locking the door behind yourselves. " (Name)? Whats wrong? " He asked, obviously he knew what you wanted. But he wanted to hear you say it. You leaned over to whisper something in his ear." Bend over the sink. " You demanded. His eyes clouded with lust suddenly, instantly complying with your ' request. '
You leaned over his back, fully clothed. Your hand travelling down to his dick, he whimpering as he felt your hand over his clothed erection. " You already hard, you whore? From what? Thigh rubbing? You're pathetic. "
He groaned into his arm as you unbuckled his pants shoving them along with his boxers down to his knees. You lifted your hand up to spit in it, taking it down swiftly to wrap it around Soaps cock. " F-Fuck! Your hands are cold. " He complained, his hips spasming already. " Then help warm them up, yeah? "
You started stroking him at a slow pace, biting his neck. Passing a thumb over his tip and on the vein on the side you knew was more sensitive. Soap whimpered, " Please.. Faster. " You nibbled on the sweet spot on his neck as you sped your hand up drastically. He moaned loudly, his face flooding red instantly with embarrassment.
" So you can get a boner from some thigh rubbing, bend over in the store bathroom, get a handjob with people right outside the door, and a small moan is where you fell embarrassment, John? " You whispered in his ear. His face contorted with please. " 'm sorry.. I'm close, please just alil faster! " He asked, you felt a pang of guilt. He looked so wrecked and pathetic. Almost made you feel bad and let him finish. But wheres the fun in that? " Of course, baby. "
You reassured him, speeding up your hands movement so he'd get closer to his release. " Shit. Im close, babe, 'm so close.. " You waited for when his hips started spasming to stop. Moving your hand away quickly, he whimpered in confusion, turning to look at you with tear filled eyes. He knew you well enough to know you'd try something. " N..No.. I was so close.. " You continued kissing his neck. bringing your pre-cum wet hand up to play with his nipples.
He gasped as he arched his back and threw his ass against your crotch without realizing. You gasped and gripped his hips. " You really wanna come in your pants here, baby? No. Lets go home first. " You tucked Soap back into his boxers once he wasn't as sensitive and pulled his pants up.
You stepped out rapidly with him, holding your lovers hand. Walking back to the section where the blueberries were. Quickly going to pay for them, you offered to drive back. Feeling bad about Soaps very obvious erection on the way. He was squirming in his seat, very obviously trying to give himself some sort of friction.
When you got home, you got out quickly and unlocked the door. Grinding your hips against Soaps ass. His whimpering and silent begging made you give in. " Go to our room, love. I'll be there in abit. " He nodded, looking at you with a lustful look before going to your bedroom.
You put his blueberries away in the fridge and started hurrying towards your rooms where you opened the door and he was sitting in the middle of the bed patiently. He perked up instantly when he saw you. " Take your shirt off, dear. " You ordered, taking your own clothes off leaving you in only your boxers as he slipped his shirt over his head. You sat on the bed next to him and he scurried to move closer to you.
Soap wrapped his arms around your waist, moving his head up to kiss you. " Please, I want you so bad. Please please please please.. " He whimpered into your mouth, grinding his hips into the bedsheets. You leaned against the beds headboard, grabbing Soaps hips and lifted him against one of your thighs, you were close enough where you could lay your head on Soaps shoulder and bite his neck.
" Get off on my thigh, and maybe I'll give you want you want. " You whispered while you bit his neck, looking for his sweet spot. Your hands went down to his boxers, pulling them down to take his cock out. He moaned at the feeling of your hand around him, bucking his hips up and groaning into your neck. " My thigh, Baby. " You reminded him, adjusting his position so that he could easily grind onto you.
" I just want you. " He whispered into your shoulder, rocking his hips slowly, gradually picking up speed.
" Can you atleast touch me? Please? "
" Of course, love. "
You wrapped a warm hand around his cock, causing him to throw his head back. His hips stuttering as he started realizing how close he was getting to cumming. " Close, I'm really close. Let me come please, I need it so badly. Please don't stop moving, go faster. " He begged with a whiny voice.
He was humping your hand wildly, his stomach was tensing up and you wrapped your arm around his waist. " You can finish, baby. Go ahead. " You told him, a small gasp of relief leaving his mouth as he quickly sped up his movements. His moans started to gain pitch as his hips thrusts started getting sloppier.
He screamed quietly into your neck, finally reaching his climax. Ropes of white splattering over your hand as you continued stroking him through his high. Soap gasped into your neck as you continued jerking him off. " W..Wait.. I just came. 'm sensitive.. " He whimpered, grabbing onto your shoulders and leaving scratch marks.
" You were begging me to keep going weren't you? Don't tell me you want to stop now. " You whispered into his ear, biting on the lobe. He moaned in response, gripping onto you for dear life. " Just one more, okay? Then we'll be done. I promise. " You reassured him and he nodded into you.
Starting to stroke him faster little by little, you mumbled sweet nothings into his ear and he whimpered in response, once again his voice starting to get louder and louder. Soap scratched at your back harshly as he felt his second orgasm rapidly approaching. " Close.. " He cried into your shoulder, letting out a loud moan when he came again.
You coaxed him through his orgasm, quickly removing your hand when he was finished. Kissing his shoulder as he breathed heavily. " Thank you.. " He mumbled into your neck, hugging you tightly. " Of course, Big boy. Lets get you cleaned up. "
He looked up at you confusingly. " You haven't gotten off yet.. " He reminded you sleepily. " I know, but you're tired. " You reassured him. Kissing his forehead as you moved him off your lap to get off the bed.
He quickly grabbed you and pinned you against the bed with your hands above your head. " I wanna make you feel good too. " He told you, using his free hand to rub at your crotch. You groaned and looked away and you felt your face starting to heat up. " Let me make you feel how you make me. Please? " He looked at you with puppy eyes, he looked so wrecked and beautiful at that moment.
How could you say no to your pretty boy? " Of course, go ahead, love. " He eagerly pulled your boxers down, placing a hand around your cock. He thumbed at the tip and smeared the precum around you. Making it easier for him to jerk you off.
The second he started to stroke your dick quickly felt how sensitive you actually were. You whimpered and grabbed onto your boy, gasping as you rapidly approached your own orgasm. " I love you.. So so much. Mmm. " You gasped into him, practically crying out when he started to rub over your tip when his hand was at the top of your shaft.
Your hips started to stutter and you grabbed onto his broad shoulders, nails digging into his muscles leaving crescent shaped marks. Soap whimpered at the pain he suddenly felt. He squeezed around your dick and you finally felt the wave of your orgasm crashing down on you. White liquid sprayed over your husbands hand as he coaxed you through it, whispering praise into your ear.
You let your arms fall lower, grabbing onto his slim waist. John yawned, his eyes teary. " Lets get you cleaned up before anything else, pretty boy. " You told him, as you moved your hands up to rub his cheeks.
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decolonize-the-left · 2 months
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Okay, I'm also a little on the confused train. I vote third party and independent in my local elections when their policies (as they often are) are better than the local democrats. I vote for some local democrats when they, as in my community they happen to be, black activists who organized the entire of the blm movement in my city and then moved to campaigning for city council and stuff. I participate in mutual aid, I use my free time to bake bread for, and then deliver the bread and naltrexone to unhoused encampments. I advocate for every school in my area to teach actual native history. I distribute land back and esims for gaza pamphlets all over my city. I volunteer at soup kitchens a couple times a month, ect. I "donate" monthly "rent" to the tribes on whos land i live. I am currently at the least protest voting uncommitted in my states primary.
But like, I do bump up against... I don't want to vote for Biden. But if Trump wins, he's states he's going to put his everything into not only the genocide in Palestine, but hella racist internal policies beyond what we already have, stripping voting rights, stripping any existing social safety nets, removing anit hate crime protections, ect
So like. Yes. I am thinking about how indigenous communities would be impacted, at least in the short term. Among many others.
My final vote isn't decided yet
Do you really think it will prevent harm to vulnerable people to risk another trump term?
Not trying to be an asshole, asking you bc I respect you
*scare quotes are to imply that I think that language is shallow and not useful but I don't know what else to say
Please don't block me I'm being completely sincere about being deeply empathetic to your anger and share in it, but also confused and scared about the right course of action and the reasoning behind it
My opinions stem from my own organizing and activism.
I think it's going over a lot of heads that the same way we organize for landback or BLM and leave zines around to have progress in dismantling those, we ALSO need to be organizing behind 3rd party candidates to dismantle the 2 party system.
Like how helpful would it be to Any of those causes if someone said that instead of organizing for landback or donating or helping houseless people you should just vote for Biden?
That'd be ridiculous. Biden doesn't have any intention of significantly helping with any of those things and he's no substitute for the activism that's being done or still needed right?
So why are we as organizers accepting this logic when it comes to one of the most powerful positions in the world?
Why are we settling and saying he's the "realistic" choice and accepting it when we Know there are other options and avenues because we've Already worked in them?
I don't understand this and if You could shed some light I would in All Honesty appreciate it.
It's ACTUALLY confusing as hell to me that people I respect and work with and see as peers and comrades think that harm reduction is the best way to vote. It's confusing that instead of advocating for other avenues and educating people about other options or working for 3rd party campaigns or leaving educational zines around throughout election cycles and campaigns..... They say they're just gonna vote for Biden.
Yeah Trump sucks. I'd never deny that. I'd never deny he's dangerous. I just Also don't see how Blue Fascism is different from Red Fascism. It's all fascism and idk why we think Blue Fascism is an acceptable trade off when we literally Do Not have to keep making this trade.
The fact so many of us regularly feel like we don't have a choice is a testament to democracy already being dead, you know? Idk what we're saying 'yeah but the other fascists could be worse so let's just keep our heads down' as leftists.
I'm gonna be very real here, my concern is the future of humanity at this point. Point blank. White supremacy is an evil ideology that has harmed every person it touches while also making sure they help perpetuate it. In the last 5 years I've watched Nazis come back, several genocides, climate change and the death of winter, and police kill a man trying to protect a forest. Our president is more concerned with his campaign than the people he's killing or the families he's exploiting to do it.
Someone is going to have to risk something in order to stop a machine this big from killing all of us. The earth my child is going to inherit is going to be unrecognizable to me. She'll be lucky if she's never a climate refugee, just as it's Only luck that she's here in the first place after the USA tried to kill off the native Americans.
My concern is Everyone. And I know it seems backwards as hell to risk something so awful, but sometimes you have to make sacrifices to have something better.
I'd give anything to save my daughter from the future she's currently on track to inherit. And that doesn't mean that I don't love her. It's a testament to how much worse I genuinely believe things will get if we continue down this path accepting anything As Long As It's Not As Awful As It Could Be.
We would lie down and Vote to have robot dogs surveil our neighborhoods for immigrants and drag queens at this point "as long as it's not trump" and doesn't that terrify you more than he does?
It terrifies me.
There's no way that's harm reduction when we are NOT being harmed that way right now. That's Increasing the harm. A harm guarantee that you were tricked you into signing under threat of something worse.
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stromuprisahat · 8 days
Text
Second Army disorganization
Siege and Storm- Chapter 14
One of the most frustrating and famously nonsensical passages of Grisha trilogy, easily explained through doylist approach- the author's inability to write strategy or politics and demands of the genre, requiring a weak, unfit heroine to defeat immensely powerful opponent way out of her league:
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Alina: Oh no, they dare to oppose me again! :(
Isn't that why would you want to establish a council in the first place? So you get constructive criticism and suggestions to do things better?!
My objections to the notion Alina came up with representation of Grisha can't be more obvious:
Army is a structured organization. There are ranks and councils by default. No amount of ignorant teens will persuade me calling it "Second" makes it otherwise.
Any big organization has a structure. Even if Second Army were only about education, there would be councils and posts on different levels. Hell, school system works that way.
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Alina: I'm gonna have the useless ones represented, because we're not doing things like the Darkling, but that doesn't mean I'll respect them myself or abandon my prejudices. Fucking nerds. Weidos...
Another YA nonsense- you cannot put people into categories based on their physical predispositions, and expect the mental ones to fit accordingly. You can have a huge, muscled guy, skilled in delicate handiwork. You can have a tiny wisp of a girl beating the living shit out of you (popular trope by itself).
Now why should sensitivity to metals get you a spot in labs, if you're a strategic genius? Or incredibly skilled, witty rhetorician? Isn't it more likely you'd be required to complete basic training to stay healthy and prevent accidentally endangering others, while being assigned to whatever you're most useful at?
And what about those weak or less intelligent ones? Are they bringing coffee and arranging entertainment?!
It also fits this fan interpretation, that Materialki are often neuro-divegent, so they are tend to be kept away from battle for their own sake.
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Alina wasn't involved in practical running of Second Army before. Just because she doesn't know about something, it's not a totally fresh idea.
I'd be afraid of a girl, who almost murdered a bunch of people for asking questions, too.
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At this point, I'm gonna run with the idea that all the older Grisha are torn between face-palming and silently laughing their assess off (so Alina doesn't overhear and her clique doesn't resort to violence).
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“But what do they do in there?” I asked, not entirely sure I wanted to hear the answer. “Only the Corporalki know. But there are rumors that they’ve been working with the Fabrikators on new … experiments.”
Shadow and Bone- Chapter 8
... and that says nothing about the field, or the little groups in noble houses. People tend to stick together with their own, when in strange enviroment. I'm sure such bonds dissolve immediately after their return "home".
I've also delved a little into the sitting order here.
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A few lines earlier, Alina noted Materialki didn't show up to complain. Who is so horrified then?! Not them, for sure.
Ironically, this fits into Fabricator-brain theory linked above AND the most logical explanation- Materialki have basic self-defense training, but only those, who are able to, continue. Alina isn't particularly friendly with any of them, so how would she know no one had EVER bothered to teach them? Alright, there are none in her class, but as far as we know, it consists of a Squaller, an Inferni and a Heartrender. Not the most saying sample.
Having a third of all Grisha helpless doesn't fit into the picture of Aleksander's leadership:
“That’s what Botkin always says. ‘Not showy, just to make pain,’” I said, imitating the mercenary’s heavy accent. “Smart guy.” “The Darkling doesn’t think Grisha should rely on their powers for defense.”
Shadow and Bone- Chapter 17
You don't have to become another Bruce Lee, you only need a chance, when they drag you out of bed in the middle of the night.
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What tradition?
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This is rather well-written group of angry, disorganized people. It might start with a reasonable goal, but soon everyone talks about something else than others, and the message gets lost in the noise.
Tradition doesn't equal "the way things are done". Neither of them is the same as "the need for structure and people knowing their places". The third one is a legitimate concern, although one could argue it's exactly what Alina's attempting.
This whole scene very much reads like:
The author is desperate to prove the Heroine isn't quite useless- she has good ideas! Look! *whacks a hundreds of years old stategist and survivor par excellence with stupid stick*
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keyboardandquill · 2 years
Text
On creating a wiki for your worldbuilding
Do you have a lot of lore to keep track of? Whether you're an author, a Game Master, or simply someone who really really likes worldbuilding, this post is for you.
Here's a quick overview of what I'll be talking about:
Platforms people use to create personal wikis
Formats and organization systems you may find useful when creating your own wiki
A brief look at the actual content you might put in your wiki (I'm planning a more in-depth post on that later with more images and demos)
And because this is gonna be a long'un, I'm putting a read-more here! I'll also make downloadable epub and PDF versions of this post available for free on my Ko-Fi at some point in the future.
(I'm also planning to reblog with a list of links later on, but I want this initial post shows up in search)
Also now that you're here, I'm going to say this isn't, like, super comprehensive or anything. I'm just talking about stuff I know a little about or have experience with. Please feel free to reblog with additions and/or corrections as needed!
What is a wiki?
According to Wikipedia, "a wiki is a hypertext publication collaboratively edited and managed by its own audience, using a web browser."
In this case, you'll likely be the sole person making updates to your wiki. The web browser part is optional these days as well, as you'll soon see.
Platforms for creating wikis
Websites for creating worldbuilding wikis
WorldAnvil
This one is actually designed for people who want to create big worldbuilding wikis.
Pros: Worldbuilding prompts! Those are great. It's got a pretty comprehensive set of article types too.
Cons: Kind of expensive to upgrade for features like making your wiki private, and it does NOT work well with adblock turned on, so if you don't want to pay for a membership you'll get inundated with ads. I'm not a huge fan of the interface in general and a lot of it isn't intuitive, but I like what they're doing so I support them anyway.
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Tiddlywiki/Tiddlyhost.com.
In addition to having a cat as its icon and also a silly name, each 'article' you create with this is called a 'tiddler' which makes me think of Chuck Tingle. I haven't used it much myself yet, but I did make an account and it seems pretty neat.
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Miraheze
A community-hosted wiki platform that runs on MediaWiki (which is what Wikipedia runs off of).
Pros: It's not Fandom.com.
Cons: You have to request a wiki and can't just make it yourself, as far as I can tell. I haven't actually looked into this one as much.
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Neocities
An option for if you want to go super oldschool and create a website using only basic html and hyperlinks (without the handy shortcuts of bbcode or Markdown). Monthly cost is $5 usd if you want to have more space and your own domain.
Pros: 100% control over your content.
Cons: Doesn't support PHP databases for wiki software, and can be fairly labour-intensive to update if you break a link or something.
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Fandom.com
Unfortunately, this one is the top result you'll get when you look up how to make your own wiki. I'm only including it here to tell you to stay as far away from it as possible!!
Its staff are known to ban wiki creators from their own wikis and a bunch of other nonsense that I'm not getting into here.
Programs and apps/web apps for creating worldbuilding wikis
Obsidian.md
My personal favourite. I'm planning to make a whole post about how I use it in the near future as part of this article series.
It's a markdown-based application that you can get on just about any platform (Windows, MacOS, Linux, iOS, Android, etc) which is great. Obsidian is really easy to pick up and use and also has great themes and community plugins!
Best thing is, it's FREE and you only have to pay if you use their publishing service, which... I don't, so.
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Notion
I've heard this one is pretty good too. Idk if it costs anything. It's another "second brain" style app (might be markdown also?) and I think it might do more than Obsidian, but I haven't checked it out much myself.
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Microsoft Word/Google Docs etc.
...Or just about any word processor that lets you create internal hyperlinks. Word may work best due to the collapsible headings so it doesn't get too unwieldy, but *shrug* whatever floats your boat.
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Excel/Google Sheets etc.
Or, again, any spreadsheet creator that lets you create internal hyperlinks.
I'd recommend having some basic spreadsheet knowledge before doing this. It could get complicated. Before I started using Obsidian, I was using Sheets to keep track of my glossary, notes about characters, and plot ideas.
Types of formatting & organization systems
There are as many organization systems as there are people who want to organize their stuff. Everybody needs something a little different! I find the ones that work best for me are systems that have a lot of customization options.
Here are a couple I know of.
Johnny Decimal
This system is absurdly simple in its concept and yet so versatile. From their website (it's just johnnydecimal dot com but I'll link it in a reblog later):
Take everything you need to organise and sort it in to, at most, ten large buckets.
Make sure the buckets are unambiguously different.
Put a label on each bucket.
Their website has a better explanation than I can give in this post, but I'll sum up the appeal of this system as quoted from their site: "There's only one place anything can ever be."
Usefully, part of this method is creating a directory for the rest of the system.
So if you're like me and tend to shove things wherever only to lose track of it later, this is a great system—especially when used in conjunction with the Zettelkasten Method (see below).
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Zettelkasten Method
Originally devised as an extensive paper-based knowledge management system, Zettelkasten is meant to easily add new entries to a knowledge base while giving each one a unique ID for easy 'linking.'
The creator of this method said 'it is not important where you place the note, as long as you can link to it.'
As with the Johnny Decimal system, I can't explain it super succinctly (nor can the website, if I'm being honest), so I'll include a link in a future reblog for a video that gave me an excellent run-down of the basics.
Setting up your own system
An organization system is only useful if you can actually, y'know, use it.
It can be fun to set up a super-detailed organization system with predetermined categories for everything, but is it easy for you to use? How will you navigate it?
Making decisions
There will be a lot of decisions to make as you set up your system. The only set-in-stone rule I follow is... don't set anything in stone. It's okay if you decide something that doesn't work later on.
Figuring out your categories
My advice: go fairly broad. You can always sub-categorize. I'm going to go over my own wikis for Athenaeum and Rocket Boosters in detail in a later post, but here are the starting top-level categories I'd recommend for worldbuilders:
A meta category for notes about your database, templates, and any relevant research you've done.
Characters, including main characters, minor characters, and important figures
Worldbuilding
In the last category, which is the main reason for the existence of my wiki, I might have:
Culture
History
Locations
Organizations
Lore (if relevant)
Technology
Transportation
I'll go over the nuances of these 'main' subcategories in that future post I mentioned. In other words, the stuff that actually goes in those categories!
Determining the importance and relevance of worldbuilding elements
You'll need to figure out whether a topic is complex enough to deserve its own entry, or if it should be a sub-heading under another entry. It's okay if you decide on both! I have short subheadings under some entries that amount to "see [link to main entry on that topic]."
I've also decided to expand subheadings into their own topics, and I've removed topics as their own entry and shoved them under subheadings. I do this a lot, in fact! So it's okay if you don't know.
Templates
Will you be creating several of one type of entry?
Individual character profiles
Towns and cities
Factions
(to name a few)
It might be handy to figure out the basic types of information you'll need about each of those things and create a template for them.
A character template might have spaces for the basics, such as name, role, age, and so on.
Some characters will have a lot more information, and some might have even less than what your template dictates! And that's fine.
A word of warning about using system-creation as procrastination
Creating a wiki can be a daunting task. You might decide it's not for you, and that's okay. But you might also decide to go headlong into the process and work on every minute detail, and that is also okay, but.
But.
Beware of using your wiki as an excuse to procrastinate your actual writing/session preparation. Yes, use it to keep track of all the lore you've injected into your manuscript/campaign/whatever, just make sure it stays in its place as a companion to your main project rather than becoming your main project.
How formal should your entries be?
Honestly this one's entirely up to you. I have a mix. Some entries are written like Wikipedia entries with a thorough explanation of the topic with proper punctuation and formatting, while others are simply bullet-point lists of thoughts and ideas that I can return to at a later date.
What methods do you use to keep track of your lore and worldbuilding? Let me know in a reblog or comment!
And please make sure to check the notes. I'll be reblogging with links, and then reblogging that reblog to make sure they're, y'know, actually visible in the notes.
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butch-reidentified · 1 year
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ima go ahead n answer both these at once if that's good w yall.
here's the referenced post for anyone who missed it.
I've posted a LOT about adoption before. feel free to search #adoption, #ethical adoption, #adoptee or #adopted, etc in my tags for those posts. if you can't find them bc Tumblr is shit at searching lmk and I will try to dig em up. I have a Google doc of organized/categorized Tumblr links because of the search function being such a joke
anyway that said. what I meant is that it is sooo obvious to most adoptees from a young age that it's a consumer industry and we are a product for sale. most of us who always knew we were adopted have that horrifying realization very very young, far too young to know how to deal with it. yes I am glad when other people figure this out too but it's a bit irritating for non adoptees to act like this is some mystical wisdom they alone could've uncovered when it's part of the trauma inherent to adoption to realize you were purchased 🤷
I'm not against adoption like some adoptees are, but I could write ESSAYS on my criticisms of the industry and how it SHOULD work. in fact, I have written essay length posts about it in the tags listed above. but ultimately nobody gives a fuck & NOBODY of any political orientation wants to hear that adoption perhaps isn't the utterly selfless flawless silver bullet solution to unwanted kids that everyone treats it as. yet statistically we KNOW most adoptees are extremely damaged by it, the research is there but nobody talks about it. nobody likes you if you talk about it. the walls go up real quick.
one of my favorite things is how adoption seems to be the ONE area that absolutely nobody respects lived material experience about. even loads of leftists/radfems who are always going on and on about the importance of listening to people's real, lived experiences will aggressively talk over us adoptees if we dare have the audacity to critique adoption/the adoption industry or acknowledge that it's fuckin traumatic even for an infant being yanked away from the only stimuli you knew for 9 months and put somewhere where you can't recognize yourself in anyone or anything for the next 18+ years. and that's best case scenario! scenario where they don't abuse you or spend your childhood guilt tripping you because they oh so selflessly took you in when nobody wanted you and now look how difficult you are, crying all the time n shit... just as 1 common experience I know many share from my own life and talking to other adoptees.
but nearly every time we try to talk about this, even if it has nothing to do with criticizing the adoption industry and we are JUST tryna get painful shit off our chest, some non adoptee or 8 is/are gonna jump down our throat (and often even say all the same shit our parents guilted us with as kids lmao)
it's also 1000% a feminist issue bc SO many mothers are forced into adopting out a kid they wanna keep, or adoption being available is used to justify forcing women to give birth instead of aborting an unwanted pregnancy when those women would otherwise choose the latter. not to mention the designer baby shit & the preference for white male babies... and the fact that it's human beings being literally sold as a good. Just because it's legal and isn't outright sex slavery or "forced labor" (tho adopted kids are so often viciously abused and often in those exact ways) doesn't make it right to buy or sell a human being, doesn't make it not human trafficking. & I say this as an adoptee who was ALSO trafficked as a teenager.
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faytelumos · 1 year
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Dude the way I'm eating your tags like they're my last meal on death's row!! I'll do the same here. Can you IMAGINE the standard Thomas sat when he became a father.
This wild, rowdy, firecracker of a man Gotham grew from golden soil and made him dirty, becoming a dad? Oh man.
Especially in the black and white era, where the most proficient job you could have in Gotham was a gangster. Second was a thief. Third was politician, but they mean the same thing anyway.
No man was particularly attached to fatherhood, " Yeah, I see my brats once a week. "
" Sheesh, you're lucky. I had to cut back work when my wife delivered. I just don't get why I have to do be there. What's your stance on that, Thomas? Does the husband have to be there?"
Thomas, smiling like a feral tiger: You know I delivered my baby, right?
OOOKAY, I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS!
Okay, be Thomas Wayne, doctor, philanthropist, old money, living in Gotham with your beautiful wife and your beautiful boyfriend, and you're having a son.
(Martha makes a funny joke about needing more girls in the house, and Alfred reminds her she throws most of her feminine relationships away after a month and a half.)
This is Gotham city. This place breeds corruption and desperation like a petri dish. You inherited the role of a founding family heir from a father you never liked and every secret organization and mobster has been trying to put you in their pocket since.
And now you have a beautiful, tender, delicate baby boy.
Absolute fucking terror.
This boy is going to be a target for every walk of life from the ground to the sky. This boy is going to get seductive offers to corruption every day, this boy is going to be a walking paycheck for anyone who's in trouble, this boy is small, and vulnerable, and yours, and he's meat and money to everyone else out there.
His future is altogether uncertain, but there's a million possibilities out there, and most of them are terrible, and it's the worst kind of anxiety.
On top of this, based on your fic, Thomas did not have any kind of healthy relationship with his dad.
This makes it so much harder. Now you're Thomas, worried to death that the world is gonna eat your son alive, and wondering what kind of father you're gonna be.
Fatherhood and manliness are two toxic chemicals that mix into the water as far as Thomas can tell. Maybe Tommy can sleep a little easier knowing Alfred will be there, knowing Bruce's other father won't be taking Tommy's shit, will also be looking out for his boy. Maybe having such a good person there, too, will protect Bruce from the boogeyman inside every other man that is Fatherhood.
Because Thomas never met a father he liked. Thomas hated Ben. And he's so terrified he's going to be just like him.
But besides all of this, Thomas is here, now, holding his newborn baby in his hands. It was crazy getting ready for it — everyone was asking him if it was really a good idea for him to be delivering his own baby, but honestly, he would never forgive himself if he missed that chance. It was crazy, because Martha, his absolute fireworks show, his light in the dark, was soldiering through all of the contractions and the pain all the way to the delivery room. And Alfred's just outside, putting out fires all over the manor as they get ready for a bump turned into a baby, Tommy's rock calmly pacing and bringing order and certainty to a day so very full of chaos and fear.
And it's a lot. It's so much. But in the scrubs, with the mask and the gloves, Tommy's hands are steady and he breathes evenly, and he holds his wife's and child's lives in those hands, and he loves them endlessly. Nothing can go wrong, and he wouldn't trade the chance to be there for both of them through this for anything.
He's scared, of himself, of Gotham, but as his little boy's growing up, he just takes the moments he can get and he does everything in his power to make his little mini-me boy as happy as physically possible. He takes every moment to give Bruce what he wanted at that age.
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artist-issues · 2 months
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If you've seen WALL-E, I'd be extremely curious for your thoughts if you haven't already shared them. Actually, I have a few movies I'd love your opinion on, but I'm not gonna keep ya all day. Thank you for your content! :)
I love WALL-E. It's a cool idea, that the whole movie is about what it means to be human, but from the perspective of a robot.
I think it's very straightforward, and there's not a lot of stuff to analyze, which is good! He's this robot that's "developed a personality" but what he's really becoming is human.
And the movie is saying that being human is liking things, taking risks, being vulnerable, and most importantly taking care of things. As in, caring for things that need you. Even if it means you don't survive or get to be as comfortable.
WALL-E preserves the stuff he has an interest in instead of junking it, but remember, he takes care of that little cockroach. He carefully organizes all his things. He fixes what's broken. That's what humans were placed on Earth to do: have dominion over it. Take care of it. Cultivate the land, order the animals.
And instead we use it all to make ourselves more comfortable.
Not WALL-E, though! And he teaches that to everybody else.
The only things I struggle with, with WALL-E, are the repeated "Directive" themes. Like, what you're made for isn't what you should be. You could say WALL-E is all about being what makes you happy.
I disagree with that. That worldview is no good. What makes you happy changes from moment to moment, and it usually comes at the expense of other people and what you, yourself, need to be good and healthy. But you could argue that that's how the humans in WALL-E got to be blobs in chairs that abandon their planet, so my beef with those themes aren't very strong.
You could just argue that the narrative is saying, WALL-E, who was created to put waste in its proper place, is still doing that. He's just doing it in a deeper, better, more correct way than all the other robots. He puts waste in its proper place, but by doing that, he also protects the things that are worthwhile and shouldn't be wasted.
And in that same train of thought, EVE is so focused on collecting and delivering the one sign of life that makes Earth worth living for--that's her directive. But it turns out, WALL-E is the one sign of life that makes Earth worth living for, because of the example he sets. That example of finding joy in hard work and protecting things that are worth protecting.
I also think, if WALL-E were released right now, in 2024, it would not be well-liked or accepted. Because people would get their feathers ruffled by the idea that we're all headed toward being blobs who can't see past our own comfort. And they'd accuse the movie of "body shaming," that kind of junk. Then again, the same people who are worried about that are also worried about that great big topic we call "the environment," and WALL-E cleverly set itself up to be championing "the environment," so maybe it would've shielded itself. Either way, I think the movie was very brave to say, "yeah, hey, we're super lazy and self-satisfying and obsessed with our own comfort, and this is the dystopia it could lead us to."
And MO is my favorite.
And love, too. Anyway. Yes, I love WALL-E! And hey! Ask me about any movies you want! I don't get that many of these questions, and I really like thinking them through and trying to verbalize them, so please do! And thank you for this question.
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vcgardenia · 1 month
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Luke Castellan x Chrysanthis Green (OC) - One Last Time
wc: 2358
cw: angst, p in v, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it unless it's for story purposes), kissing
a/n: writing this made me rly sad so I'm gonna go eat some chocolate now
Chrysanthis wanted to kill him. She wanted to punch him in the face, then kick him, then drown him, then stab him. Then she would watch as he withered away into oblivion. Instead she just walked away. 
“Chrys, wait!” Luke ran after Chrysanthis, “I wouldn’t have come here if I didn’t need you.” That made Chrys stop. Need her? He had seemed to be able to function just fine without her for the past two years, why on earth did he need her now?
“Why. Are. You. Here? ” Chrysanthis said her sentence slowly, enunciating each word so he perfectly understood her question. 
“Percy’s a damn good swordsman.” Luke chuckled as he opened his jacket and lifted his shirt, showing off a wide gash across his abdomen. 
“Oh gods.” Chrys instinctively went to touch the wound, seeing the level of damage it had caused to his organs. She caught herself and stepped back; returning to a cold face of indifference,
“Why should I help you?” This took Luke a bit by surprise, which only infuriated Chrysanthis further. Did he think he could just waltz back into her life, did he think she would of her own will help the enemy? 
“I-i, I don’t have anywhere else to go. My best healers are gone and, you're the best healer I know.” Chrysanthis rolled her eyes, trying to hold back a smile, 
“Flattery will get you nowhere.” She started walking again and Luke followed behind her silently.
They continued walking until they got to her apartment, where Chrysanthis turned around to Luke,
“You aren’t going to make a sound. I’ll step in and make sure the coast is clear, then you’re going to run to my room.”
“Trying to hide me Chrys?” She glared at him.
“You’re lucky I’m helping you at all. Now wait here.” Chrys went into the apartment, leaving the smallest crack in the door. After a few seconds of waiting, Chrysanthis stuck out her hand, and waved him in. 
As he stepped in he couldn’t help but have his mouth agape,
“You have an apartment this nice in New York?” Chrys hushed him, trying to get him to her bedroom door. All of a sudden, she heard voices from the other room, shit. Scarlett walked out of the room, and stopped in her tracks when she saw Luke. 
“You’re back early…” she went to the kitchen to get some food, “Who might you be?” 
“I’m uh, just a friend.” Chrysanthis scoffed. He was not a friend.
“Okay ‘just a friend’, would you like some water?” She handed him a cup and then grabbed Chrysanthis by the arm, dragging her out of Luke’s earshot to yell at her in a hush, “Christi, you have not brought a man home in years. What is going on right now?” Chrysanthis sighed,
“It’s complicated. I just have to help him out right now okay?” 
“Okay…” Scarlett eyed Luke up and down, “He’s really hot Chris.”
Luke put his cup in the sink and gave Scarlett his signature Hermes grin. Scarlett had to restrain herself from giggling, not her fault of course, it was one of Luke’s gifts. That and his shit-eating grin.
“Thank you so much for the water, I was very thirsty.” Gods, Chrys wanted to get out of this situation.
“Luke, let’s go.” Luke gave her a sarcastic look, aw man, I was having so much fun! She returned it with another one of her glares. He quickly obeyed.
They went into Chrys’ room and she quickly shut the door behind them. Chrys turned her head when she heard a snickering sound, it was coming from Luke.
“I haven’t done one of those smiles in years,” he paused to chuckle more, “her face was absolutely priceless.” He couldn’t hold it back any longer, he started laughing.
Chrysanthis couldn’t help but laugh too, thinking back it was a pretty funny face. They both were laughing so hard she started to fall down to the ground, and Luke had to hold onto her shoulder to keep her steady. After a few minutes of them just laughing in each other's presence, they died down. 
Chrysanthis quickly took Luke’s arm away from her shoulder, standing up straight so as not to make any more movements towards him. 
“I’ll get the disinfectant.” She opened her cabinet, pulling it out, along with some ambrosia she kept in case of emergency. “Sit on the bed.” 
Chrysanthis gave him the ambrosia to drink while she got some gauze and cotton for his wound. 
“Okay, let me see it.” Luke took off his shirt, wincing at the contact between fabric and wound. Chrys carefully inspected it, placing her hand on the open wound.
She sealed it shut by using the ambrosia within his system and directing it towards his wound. Then she got out the stitches. As she was stitching his abdomen back into one piece, Luke piped up.
“How have you been?” Chrysanthis tilted her head, her eyes still focused on the stitching,
“Well after you up and left, I thought a change of setting would be good for me.” 
“I-i never meant to up and leave you. I was going to tell you I swear it’s just-”
“If you had asked me I would have gone, Luke.” Chrysanthis blurted out. “If you had talked to me about it, if you had-, if you had just told me what was going on in that head of yours, I would have.” Luke was silent, tears threatening to leave his eyes and spill. But he couldn’t let them. If they did they would be spilling out of him for ages. 
“Chrysanthis I-” he choked out.
“Don’t worry about it. It’s no use now is it? I have my life and you have yours.” 
She went back to her stitching, already halfway done. Luke marveled at how efficiently her hands worked. The speed, the precision… the softness. Her hands were still just as soft as they were years ago when they belonged only to him.
Chrysanthis on the other hand, marveled at how much Luke had changed. His entire figure was more rugged and built from the battles. She grieved the loss of his once soft and beautiful skin. What had the world done to him? To her love? No. It was no use thinking about the past, Chrysanthis knew that. So she focused back on work.
“What’s your job? We used to talk about it all the time, what job we would have if we made it past the age of 18.” He chuckled, reflecting back to when they were so young, so naive.
“I’m a biochemical engineer. I work in a research lab at a university and make enough to afford this place.” She gestured to the apartment around her, the smallest smile cracking on her face. “Oh my gods.” Chrysanthis stopped her stitchwork.
“What is it what’s wrong?” Luke stiffened his body, more attentive of everything around him.
“Remember when you said you wanted to be a firefighter.” Chrysanthis broke down laughing, “And then you- for Halloween you dressed up as one, and it was the most dollar store looking outfit ever made but you were so happy so no one said anything-” 
Chrys took a few more seconds to compose herself, as Luke relaxed his body and put his hands over his face, trying to get the image out of his head. “Why would you remind me of that?”
“I still have pictures from that stupid polaroid camera I bought at the dollar store.” She giggled guiltily.
“Well hey one of us is like, helping find the cure to cancer and the other is holding onto big aspirations of being a firefighter so I think we both know who won.” Luke chuckled. 
“Hey, that is a very noble aspiration, don't be so hard on yourself.” Chrysanthis joked. Luke looked into her eyes with sincerity,
“Seriously Chrys, I’m really proud of you.” Chrys smiled up at him before continuing with her stitching. “Hey, random question, why did your friend call you Christi?” Chrysanthis half smiled as she moved her head down to focus on Luke's stitching.
“Well Chrysanthis doesn’t really roll right off the tongue and it kinda puts a big ol’ target on my back, so I changed it.” Luke furrowed his brow, bringing up her head with his hand,
“Well, I like Chrysanthis a lot better than any other stupid name people call you.”
She gave an unfeigned smile, forgetting the last time someone had called her that. Chrysanthis leaned in, allowing their lips to be mear atoms apart. They just stared at each other, neither one looking away from the other's gaze. Chrys sighed, blowing air into his face.
“We can’t do this Luke…” She tilted her head, not changing their distance. 
“I know.” Luke cupped her face in his hand, shutting his eyes and sighing deeply. His eyes glistening once more with tears he refused to shed.
“Gods. I miss you so much Luke.” Chrys’ eyes were now also filling up with water, tears that had been stored inside of her for 2 years, 5 months, and 16 days. 
Luke lifted up Chrysanthis from her kneeling position, placing her on top of him on the bed. She laid down on his chest, earning a short groan with a mix of pain and lust from Luke. She could feel his heartbeat flutter at her touch. Chrys looked up at Luke’s face, slowly making her way to it so that they were once again only atoms apart. 
“You-” Luke whispered into her mouth, “You would have left your entire life behind for me?” 
“Oh Luke,” she sadly chuckled out the words, “I would have done anything for you.” Chrysanthis finally planted a bittersweet kiss on his cheek, refusing to feel his mouth on her own. 
Luke carefully unzipped the dress that Chrysanthis was still wearing from the night's festivities. Being sure not to damage it in its beauty. He quickly took off his pants and boxers, allowing himself to be completely vulnerable and naked in her presence.
She took off her panties, caressing his face as she entered him. They both whimpered at first contact, it had been so long since they had taken each other. There was no doubt they had taken others in between, but this was special, this was different.
Chrysanthis could feel the veins in his member as they perfectly brushed her clit, allowing a feeling of absolute pleasure to move through her body. Now that they had settled in, Chrysanthis set a pace. She rode on his dick, remembering every sensation, every part of the interaction, knowing it could very well be their last.
Luke kept hold of her hips, ensuring that she was stable and steady. His eyes were already rolling to the back of his head, trying to keep control of himself for her. Chrysanthis took hold of Luke's curls, feeling out the texture she had so long been deprived of. 
The feeling of their bodies moving together was addictive. She never wanted to stop feeling him inside of her, he was a piece of her that had been missing for over two years, and she wasn’t quite ready to take it out yet.
The feeling of taking him raw was heavenly, and as Luke reached his peak inside Chrysanthis' vulva, an all too familiar warm liquid filled her hole with joyous contentment. Chrys reached her peak soon after, however she did not allow it to stop the rhythm. 
And so they continued for as long as their bodies would allow them too. Until they were passed out in each other's arms from pure exhaustion. Until the hearts inside of their bodies halted in resignation. 
♥♥♥
It was late, late night when they had finally finished being inside one another. They collapsed, side by side, just as they had all those years before. 
“I love you.” Luke whispered out. Chrysanthis just laid there refusing to acknowledge that he had actually said that to her, “I love you” he repeated. As if saying it again would create less of a pit in her stomach.
“No, you-”
“I know. Just let me say it.”
“No. You can’t just say you love me and then up and leave again!”
“For fucks sake Chrysanthis I had no choice! That was two years ago!” Chrysanthis was now sat up, the tears rolling down her cheeks coming straight from her arsenal.
“Let’s make sure we make one thing very clear. You… are a selfish, self-serving piece of shit.” She took a deep breath, “You abandoned me 2 years ago. Because you couldn’t even be enough of a man to ask me if I would go with you. Tell me why that is Luke.”
“Chrysanthis I-”
“Leave my room, and my apartment. I never want to see your fucking face ever again.” 
Luke thought of saying something, but he went against it. He rushed putting back on his clothes, forcefully opened the door to Chrysanthis’ room, and walked out. Chrys sauntered over to the front door, only doing so out of courtesy.
As Luke put on his coat to leave, he turned around to face Chrysanthis once more,
“You’re going to end up sad and alone, you know that right? All the defensive shit is just one of your fucked up coping mechanisms.”
“Yeah and why do you think I have coping mechanisms in the first place? Whose fault is that daddy's broken toy?” Luke shook his head.
“You know for the record, I didn’t not ask you to come with me because I was scared, or because I thought you would side with that shithead Percy.” He opened the door out of the apartment,  “I didn't ask because I didn’t want you seeing what I would turn into.”
“Well then, I guess we both dodged a bullet then huh?”
“Yeah, guess we did.” Luke slammed the door behind him, leaving both of them in buckets of tears that would never be able to fully empty the loaded tanks of tears they had inside of them.
That was the last time Chrysanthis Green ever saw Luke Castellan.
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thydungeongal · 6 months
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Hey hey!
You may not be the correct person to ask but im gonna ask anyway and if you feel it would be better answered by someone else plz let me know.
So ive been GMing 5e games for a bit and want to branch out into games which arent as unfriendly to the DM in terms of whats required as 5e is.
Im interested in running Knave, but none of my rpg friends seem really interested.
Where do you think a good place online would be to look for new players? Im trans so im a little scared of running games with non lgbt players at the moment...
Heya!
As we discussed in DMs, I'm going to answer this publicly so other people who may be better equipped to answer this question might see it, because I feel woefully unprepared to answer it. So by answering it publicly I'm exposing your ask to lots of people who may know more than I. :) Having said that, I haven't come out completely empty:
@open-hearth-rpg is a community I've followed for quite a while here on Tumblr, and while I haven't partaken in their games after receiving this ask I was immediately reminded of them, because while not an exclusively LGBTQ+ community theirs is a very inclusive community that has lots of safety tools in place to ensure all players' comfort and safety. They specifically act as a sort of a community hub for running games and recruiting players, so if nothing else by putting out the feelers there, I'm sure you'll be able to find like-minded folks. :)
Second suggestion, and this is literally me scrambling for help from the side of the community that knows more about these things than I do, is that lots of RPG creatives of various shades of the LGBTQ+ rainbow have their own communities, and they usually have a dedicated space within those communities for looking for players. Like, unsurprisingly, lots of RPG creatives expect their fans to also play RPGs, so their communities will usually have spaces for organizing games. @threeheartscast has one such community on Discord (it's an unofficial, fan-run one, but since Three of Hearts is a queernormative podcast their community is unsurprisingly also mostly LGBTQ+, I'm also there lurking hi!). I don't mean that you should join the community of an actual play podcast you may not even know about, but if you already know of LGBTQ+ creatives in the hobby space, look around and check out their communities. :)
Anyway if any of my followers want to chime in, please do! There's only so much a clueless guy like me can do to help with this question.
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Hi, saw one of your reblogs about masking and wanted to ask something. Sorry if you're not the right person to ask, feel free to ignore, I just haven't got anyone irl that even cares anymore. I've been masking daily this entire time ever since the pandemic first started, but I'm beginning to wonder, when are we going to be able to stop masking? Is there anywhere you can recommend where I can inform myself about this, about what our outlook is like re: COVID and other safety precautions and that type of stuff? The government's position in my country is pretty much just "masks are no longer mandatory" (I wasn't even allowed to get a booster this year, they're apparently not recommended for under 60s here unless you're high risk), and there isn't a culture of masking when sick here, so almost no one does, not even doctors. And it's starting to affect me socially as well, you kind of end up socially excluded/ostracized quite a lot when most places you go you're the only one masking (which I realize is not as bad as death or long COVID but I do have to admit it's getting to me). I guess I'm just wondering if there's anything else to look forward to other than masking indefinitely?
I'm really sorry but unless and until there are widespread, systemic safety measures in place, as far as I know masking is gonna continue to be your best option in terms of protecting yourself and others from covid and its complications :(
There are less effective but still useful options, like the covixyl nasal spray and nasal sanitizers, and iota-carageenan nasal spray and/or cpc mouthwash as post exposure prophylaxis—but those are most effective when paired with masking.
If you do at any point decide to stop masking, altogether or in certain situations, I hope you'll consider using some of those preventative tools. They're dramatically better than no protection at all.
Air cleaners like the corsi-rosenthal box can help if you're in a space where you'd be allowed to set that up. Socializing outside helps a little esp if you're spaced out.
But unless systems get put in place to overhaul ventilation systems and quarantine sick people etc the most effective option I'm aware of as an individual is a well-fitting N95/kf94/kn95 mask with no gapping at the cheeks or anywhere else.
It might be worth finding out who in your area is organizing to try to demand or implement better covid safety measures, and see if you can join them. Try disability advocacy groups—even if they don't have a project like that in place they may either know who does or be willing to help you set one up.
Lastly, I'm just repeating info I've taken in (hopefully accurately) from medical journal articles. I'm just an ordinary person, I'm not an epidemiologist or virologist or medical expert of any kind, so please do your own research as well. Make sure any info you accept as for-sure accurate is from peer reviewed medical studies published by credible scientific journals.
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canirove · 4 months
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In The Name of Love | Chapter 7
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"Ferran, is this allowed?"
"Not really" he shrugs. "But you aren't the first girl we are sneaking into the hotel, and won't be the last" he smirks.
"What if they see us?"
"I'll deal with that, don't worry."
"And what if he doesn't want to see me?"
"He will, Val. For the past month he's been looking like shit again, like when they made him play every game under the sun. But you should have seen his face on the bus on our way to the stadium. His smile. That was my Pepi."
"You need to stop calling him that, he doesn't like it."
"I know" Ferran winks. "And this is his room."
"How did you manage to get the key?"
"I can be very charming" he smiles.
"That charm didn't work on Luis Enrique's daughter, did it?" I chuckle.
"I had not missed your witty comments, Val. Anyway, go make yourself comfortable, he'll be here any moment now. And try to fix things before fucking. Or first fuck and then talk. I don't know, whatever works for you."
"Thank you, Ferran" I say, rolling my eyes. 
"My pleasure" he replies, taking my hand and kissing it like he always does before saying goodbye. "See you around, Val."
"Bye" I say, walking into the room. 
Just like his own back home, it is an organized mess. There are shoes on the floor, a towel thrown on a chair, a phone charger hanging from the bed's headboard… And a book on the bedside table. "Harry Potter and the prisoner of Azkaban." 
"You've kept reading" I smile, touching its cover. 
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"You spend hours traveling and in hotel rooms. Why don't you pick up a book instead of playing FIFA all the damn time?" 
"Because reading is boring."
"Not if you find a genre you enjoy. For example, what movies do you like watching?"
"Anything Marvel" Pedri says, his eyes fixed on the tv.
"Those are comics, you could read them."
"But if I've already watched the movies, what's the point?" 
"Sometimes, if not always, the books are better than the movies."
"Sure. And 5-0. That will be happening in real life very soon" he smirks.
"Militao and Alaba won't allow it" I reply, sticking out my tongue. "But that's not what we were talking about. What other movies do you like?"
"I don't know… Harry Potter?" he shrugs.
"Have you read the books?"
"They are for kids."
"Said the old man" I laugh.
"You know what I mean" he says, trying to tickle me. 
"Pedri, don't" I warn him, moving away from him. "But you've given me an idea."
"Tickling contest followed by sex?"
"No." 
"Then I'm not interested."
"We are gonna have our own movie and book club."
"What?"
"You'll read a book, then we'll watch the movie together, and then we'll discuss which one is better."
"You won't be reading with me?"
"If I have time, I will. I promise."
"Ok…"
"Do we have a deal, then?" I say, offering him my hand.
"We do" he replies, taking it and using it to pull me against him. 
"Pedri!" I laugh while he moves me until I am straddling him.
"Can we now have my tickling contest followed by sex?" he smirks. 
"We can skip the tickling" I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. "But tomorrow we are going to a bookshop and buying you the first Harry Potter book."
"Fine" he sighs. "Can I kiss you now?"
"You can… Pedri Potter" I laugh.
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"Val?"
"Oh, shit" I say, coming back from my memory, the book falling from my hands. 
"What are you doing here? Who let you in?"
"Ferran" I say, standing up and leaving the book on the small table.
"Ferran, of course" he scoffs. "Was this his idea?"
"Kind of. I didn't want to sneak in, but I needed to talk with you, so" I shrug.
"Talk about what?"
"Us. Me. I want to explain everything to you."
"We can't talk while you are wearing that."
"What?"
"My shirt. I can't focus knowing that my name is on your back."
"Oh, sorry" I say, playing with the hem of the shirt. "I thought you would like it, but I can put on a jacket or something if it bothers you."
"It doesn't bother me, Val. Well, it does, but not in the way you are thinking."
"What?" I ask again, looking at him. 
"It bothers me because you don't know how many times I've pictured you wearing it. How many times I've imagined us fucking while you only have my shirt on. And now here you are" he says, slowly walking towards me. "In my mind you are always wearing the Barça one, but oh well."
"That will never happen" I reply, my voice shaking a bit. 
"I know" he says, getting closer. He's looking at me as if I was his prey, as if any moment now he will jump at me and devour me. And it is turning me on. Big time. 
"Then…" 
"Then we are gonna have to do something about this" he says, now just one step away from me. 
"About what?"
"Me wanting to fuck you."
"Aren't you still mad at me?"
"I am. I'm mad. Disappointed. Sad. Confused. And fucking hard, Val. I want to bend you down on that bed and make you scream of pleasure while I see my name on your back."
"Then do it" I hear myself saying.
"But you came here to talk."
"We can talk later." 
"You'll be too exhausted to talk after I'm done with you."
"Nothing like trying" I say, closing almost all the space between us, my heart feeling like it is about to explode inside my chest.
"Are you sure?" Pedri asks, arching one of those perfect eyebrows of his.
"I am. Are you sure you can do everything you are bragging about?" I tease him, moving until our noses are almost touching. "You kids like talking and then…"
"As if I had ever disappointed you" he laughs. "That was your ex, not me."
"There always is a first time for everything."
"Not with me, and not today. Definitely not today" he says before kissing me.
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"Morning" I yawn.
"Good morning" Pedri smiles.
"Have I ever told you that I love your smile?"
"You've said that you like it, but I think this is the first time you've said that you love it." 
"Well, I do. I love… fuck" I complain when I move. 
"Sore, uh?"
"Yes."
"I warned you."
"Shut… ouch!" I say when I try to hit him. 
"Do you need me to carry you to the bathroom or something?" he says with a teasing smile.
"I can do it myself, thank you" I reply, slowly moving to face him while trying really hard to not complain again.
"Are you sure you don't need my help?"
"I'm fine, Pedri. I've been this sore before."
"With whom?" he laughs. "I'm sure your ex never did what I can. Or made you feel the way I do."
"He didn't, no. But last year Emma convinced me to go to one of the classes she takes at the gym, and for the next four days I felt like this."
"So you are just out of practice, uh?" he smirks.
"I am, yes. A month of doing nothing, and look at me. I'm getting old" I sigh.
"You aren't old, Val" Pedri laughs. "And I can help with your fitness. Because I'm a professional athlete and all that."
"Of course" I laugh. "Anyway… Is it ok if we have that chat now?"
"Sure" he smiles.
"Ok" I say, taking a deep breath. "I've rehearsed this many times in my head, so let's hope I remember everything."
"There is no rush, take your time" he says, caressing my cheek.
"I have time, my plane doesn't leave until late in the afternoon. But yours?"
"That doesn't matter now, Val. Talk."
"Yes, ok. So, umm… I guess I should start from the beginning, right?"
"For example" he chuckles.
"So… Marc and I have basically known each other our whole lives. We went to the same school, same high school, same university… And I think I always had a crush on him. Like, I can't remember a moment before we started dating where I didn't think he was… perfect. He comes from a really good family, very posh to be honest. And he is charming, intelligent, super nice with everyone, handsome… The man every mother would like for their kid. And when we both were 15, he asked me out. We were in the same group of friends with Silvia and Isabel too, and half the girls in our high school were in love with him. But he chose me. The girl who didn't drink or partied, the one who knew Real Madrid's starting eleven by heart instead of how to do her makeup, the one who didn't dress fancy, the one who wasn't considered one of the hot girls but neither an ugly one. I was just… there. And he saw me."
"Because you have something, Val, I already told you. I still don't know what it is, but… It is there."
"Yeah, well, thank you" I smile, feeling my cheeks getting warm. "Anyway, after he asked me out we started dating, and that made many girls jealous, Isabel the first of them all. Looking at it now I can see that she bullied me for years, but back then I didn't understand what she truly meant with her comments."
"And Marc didn't do anything?"
"No, he didn't. I think he didn't notice either. Or that's what I want to believe" I shrug. "When we went to uni, Isabel was sent abroad, and during those years without her, everything was perfect. I had met new friends, I was loving what I was studying, and Marc and I were better than ever. But then we both finished our degrees, and everything changed." 
"Isabel came back?" 
"Among other things, yes. Even though we had just moved in together, I felt like our relationship wasn't going anywhere. Silvia had just met Pau for example, and I kept looking at them or some of our other friends and then at us, and something was missing. And then I found myself jobless. Marc had been offered a position on the bank where he had done his internship the moment it was over while I had nothing. I didn't know what to do, if I should keep studying or what. I even started having doubts about teaching, wondering if I had wasted my time and money on a career that I didn't truly like, on something that I wasn't made for. And seeing him thriving while I had all that in my head, wasn't helping our relationship."
"Did you ever tell him?"
"I tried, but he always was so busy…"
"And he didn't notice something was off with you?" Pedri asks, putting a lock of hair behind my ear.
"Never."
"What a shitty boyfriend, then."
"Yeah" I chuckle. "Thankfully everything started to change when I met Emma. Silvia had booked us a pottering lesson and she was there all alone, so we asked her to join us and we instantly connected. Back then she was working at an academy teaching extracurricular lessons with kids of different ages and that they were looking for people to cover for someone who had just retired. She asked me if I was interested, I said yes, and I suddenly found myself with a job and feeling alive again. It was as if all my doubts and fears had disappeared, as if I was me again. The only thing stopping me from moving on and enjoying myself again, was Marc."
"So you broke up with him."
"I did."
"How did he take it?"
"Really good. He said that we had made it to a point where we were more like flatmates sharing the same bed than boyfriend and girlfriend."
"But he never bothered to talk about it with you. He sounds like a bit of a coward, doesn't he?"
"He is, yes. After we broke up I moved in with Silvia, but I still wasn't feeling completely like myself. And then, the night at the opera happened."
"The night… I'm lost" Pedri says.
"Remember when I told you about the engagement party, that it was themed as a night at the opera?"
"Oh, yes."
"Well, six months after Marc and I broke up, he and Isabel were going on a date to the opera and sharing their first kiss." 
"Six months?" 
"Yep."
"He didn't waste his time, did he?"
"And neither did Isabel. The moment she found out we had broken up she was all over him. This was her chance and she wasn't gonna let it pass."
"And she didn't" he laughs.
"She did not, no. I was so angry when I found out. The person I had shared my life with for a decade was now dating the woman who had bullied me for years. And according to most of our friends, I didn't have the right to feel like that because I had been the one who had broken up with him."
"What?"
"Yeah" I sigh. "Anyway, a couple of years passed, I got used to them, dated some guys here and there and started to work at my current school, but I still couldn't let go of that anger, I couldn't close that chapter of my life. Then they announced their engagement, and I met you."
"And I made you forget."
"Exactly" I say, moving closer and caressing his cheek. "You were exactly what I needed to finally leave them in the past, to move on, to fully enjoy this new life I had started after breaking up with Marc. You made me forget about them and my anger, but also made me stop thinking that I was a failure because I had wasted the best years of my life with a man who didn't deserve me or because I wasn't getting married and having kids like everyone else. You were the key that closed that door, but also the one who allowed me to completely open the one of my new life. The life I wanted, one that was mine and no one else's."
"Then why didn't you tell me about Marc? Why didn't you tell me all this?"
"Because I was afraid, Pedri. Afraid of losing you because you are still young and knowing all this about me could scare you and make you run away. Afraid of opening up to someone again after everything I went through. Afraid because maybe telling you could open that door again and make me realize that I had been lying to myself, that he isn't in the past."
"And is he?" he says, wiping away a tear.
"He is. He definitely is, now I know it, 100%."
"Good. Because Val…" Pedri says, cupping my face and making me look him in the eyes. "I have feelings for you. I'm not sure about what they are exactly, at least not yet. I have never felt like this with any other girl I've been with, you know? But I do know that I want to be with you. And I want you to be able to trust me, to open up to me, to tell me everything and anything that worries you. I'm here for you, Valeria. I'm not going anywhere."
"Thank you" I smile between sobs. "But I like it better when you call me Val."
"What?"
"Marc always called me Valeria. Always. And I found it so annoying… Not even my mum calls me like that, only when she's angry with me."
"Ok" he laughs. "Then I will only call you Valeria when I'm angry with you."
"And during sex."
"What?" Pedri laughs again. "Is that some kink or something?"
"When you moan my name it turns me on" I smirk.
"Interesting" he smiles.
"Are we ok, then? Have we made up?"
"We have." 
"Thank God" I sigh.
"That much did you miss me?" 
"I did, yes. You can ask Silvia and Emma if you don't believe me. And before you say it… I missed everything about you. Not just the physical part."
"One would start to think that you've caught feelings, Miss Val" he says with a teasing smile.
"And one may not be wrong. But step by step, ok?"
"Step by step" he says before kissing me.
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