turns out this note wasn't all i've done for this piece. i was thinking a lot about astarion's perspective slowly shifting when it came to intimacy and sex.
With time, when he saw her splayed naked on top of the sheets, Astarion stopped thinking about all the bodies that he had doomed, or all the people that were careless with him, that hurt him. His mind slipped less and less to the horrid nights when he had forced himself to touch those he'd never wanted, those that sent disgust creeping up his throat. The times he had to fight those thoughts soon dwindled in numbers as something warmer, something kinder replaced them.
When Astarion looked at her, he felt her softness, he remembered those very first times when they had truly touched each other. Not in the wilderness, where they both felt like cornered beasts doing anything to survive. Not the feigned courtesies and honeyed words, even if — unbeknownst to them — there was a hint of honesty hidden in them. Instead, the spawn thought of his first night of true freedom. How hungrily they touched each other after confessing love. How warm Mal's skin felt when he took her — eager, happy — over the remains of his lost life.
Suddenly, it all started to feel different. How sweet desire tasted when it was backed by freedom, by choice. Astarion could, finally, close his eyes without a worry, touch his lover without the fear dancing at the tips of his fingers. For just a brief moment, he simply let go of all the terror that was ever-present for almost two centuries.
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Does anyone know either a) the internal design of a Chuckit Super Slider or b) any way to immediately murder the squeaker while still allowing play with the rest of the toy? Matilda wants it like burning but it squeaks like high hell which makes it impossible for her to play with without making Benton melt down into the despairing howls of the damned
ETA: found a skewer and successfully silenced it, the baby is thrilled
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Day 9 - Failings of a Frozen Heart
Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/42287235
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Summary: A Lorelei centric romantic angst fic. I don’t know what else to say about it.
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Note: Yes I’m whumping genocidal characters, who’s gonna stop me???
I listened to the same song I did while writing day 7. I love that edit, it’s so good for emotional whump. It’s mind numbing and you can just WRITE. (“C418 - Aria Math, but your Minecraft world is ending around you,” by Tumble40 on Youtube.)
Cws and Tws: Romantic rejection and confusion
Words: 633 (Dude it’s so short but I am SO PROUD OF IT.)
Prompt: THE VERY NOISY NIGHT | Sleeping in Shifts | Tossing and Turning | Caught in a Storm
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Chapter text (under cut):
Lorelei lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling of the cave as the wind whistled outside. Beside her was Lance, but though he was pretending to sleep (his breath coming and going in soft regular intervals) Lorelei could tell he was awake. Maybe there was something about the way he was posed that gave him away (because he was certainly a good actor in his breathing), and maybe there wasn’t, but either way Lorelei could tell that he wasn’t sleeping.
She sighed (a bit more heavily than she had intended to) and rolled over onto her side. There was an odd distance between her and Lance (both physically and not). That morning, Lance had confessed his love to her, and instead of reciprocating, or even just turning him down, she had simply run away. Later that day, when Agatha had called the three of them together (Bruno wasn’t invited to their planning meetings), they had been forced into the same room.
Lance tried to act like nothing had happened, but it was clear something was bugging him and the meeting had to end early. Lorelei wouldn’t have admitted it to him, but she had been secretly just as glad to be away from him again. She wasn’t scared of him (even if she logicly should be), she certainly wasn’t uncomfortable around him (at least not usually), but someone about being near him was making her feel odd.
Being near this man, this man who she had known for so long (this man who she had spent the last two years conspiring with), was now awkward and odd. It was like the ice that surrounded her heart was cracking. Melting away with the realization of the feelings that had been frozen like a forgotten society in permafrost.
She did love him. She really did. (And she had to wonder if she always had.) She rolled back onto her back, allowing her eyes to trace over Lance’s ‘sleeping’ form. He was nice (or at least he was nice if you fell into his image of an ace trainer), and he was as strong as he was in battle just by himself. Besides, it wasn’t every day that you met someone with a similar ideology to you when you were like him.
Lorelei let her mind drift back to the rushing wind that swiped past the cave door, occasionally backing it’s way past the wall that her Dewgong and his Dragonite made and stabbing right through her bones. She wished she was back at home, in the warm air of Four Island (or the chill of the ice caves that she had grown up with).
To be honest, Lorelei wished she was anywhere but here, with her heart (which had been frozen for so long) finally cracking under the warm gaze of her friend. But even though such a thing should have made her feel like she was finally close to someone, it only left the fire (melting the cold walls of her heart) begging for more kindling.
She found herself crying, even though the cold wind threatened to freeze her tears on her cheeks. She shouldn’t have run away. She should just tell him she loved him. There were so many things that she should do or should have done, but Lorelei could already tell that she wasn’t going to be able to do any of them.
It just wasn’t the type of person she was. Even if her heart was thawing, she was so used to just letting it freeze over again that there was no way she would change now. The wind whistled outside and her Dewgong made a small noise in it’s sleep.
And she felt just as small.
Her frozen heart was failing her, in more ways than one.
End of chapter notes: Ignore that I literally forgot to post this lol.
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