#which most naturally fits her personality

[livrere-green]

ATLA x Omegaverse AU

Part 1 | Part 2

I've been thinking about an omegaverse atla au a lot recently, so I'm gonna vent about it cuz it's getting tiring just to have it spiralling in my head ngl

So, the only thing that I need to mention now it's that the standard age at which someone presents is around 13 to 14 years old. Knowing that, lets talk about the main characters.

Aang (12) would be unpresented by the time of the show. Also, I don't believe that being the avatar makes him an alpha perse. I mean, there's a possibility he presents as one (but he could also be a beta), and it wouldn't have anything to do with his avatar status (historically there could be a higher rate of avatars being alphas/betas, but there are some important exceptions... iykwim). Well, I think he'd present at age 13 almost 14.

Katara (14) is one of the characters that confuses me the most in this aspect, but just to add fuel to her fury and her personality, I'll make her an omega, not the kind that rejects her nature but the kind that embraces it and doesn't see it as something that makes her inferior or helpless. Katara would fight against the life society wants to impose on her in the same way she does in canon, maybe even more. She would resent the people who doesn't respect her because of her gender (just make it double), and at some point, she'd get frustrated about it, but she would think that hating herself would mean letting them win. About her presentation, there's two option: 1. She presented some months before they found Aang, 2. She presented during the first months they were traveling to the NWT (in this case, I think the ideal place would've been Kyoshi Island, because there's people able to take care of her there).

Sokka (15) would be an alpha, he probably presented after Hakoda left (14), he fits the type and the stereotypical personality at the beginning of the show. But I think he would get over it sooner rather than later and he would learnt to respect and don't underestimate betas and omegas just based on their nature. Also, I think that Sokka would scent the Gaang to protect them and particularly to cover Katara's scent as they travel or run away from trouble.

Toph (12) would be unpresented by the time of the show. She'd present as an alpha some time after the end of the war (13). There's not a lot to explain here (talking about her at that age, except for the fact that even during her time with the Gaang, she probably hated Sokka's essence, just as an early hint about her gender). I consider that there's a lot to discuss about her as an adult and how she managed her relationships, but that's a discussion for another time.

Zuko (16) would be an omega, and also a late bloomer, probably presented a couple of years after his banishment (15).. Zuko would be determined to hide his true nature under any circumstances, letting only his Uncle know about it. Ozai would've been informed that his son is a beta, which was already a disappointment for the Royal Family (historically alphas), but it wasn't nearly as negative as being reduced to be treated as an omega. Zuko would end up causing himself a lot of damage in order to disguise as a beta, either by using too many suppressants or other medications, or even hurting himself physically and mentally. He would stop hiding he's an omega after joining the Gaang but It'll be complicated, since he'd be distressed all the time and even Aang and Toph would be able to notice (their senses are not totally develop, so it'll be kinda alarming).

Suki (15) would be a beta, presented at 14. In her case, the characteristics of its gender would be especially helpful to mediate conflict or get out of it. The scent of a beta has calming effects in both alphas and omegas, so she would use it with her friends, or even in battle, to make her opponents lose focus, particularly if their driven by rage. The fans are particularly helpful for that.

Azula (14) would present early as an alpha (12/13). At that age, one of the traits she would manifest the most is assuming the position of head of the pact with her friends, she'd probably scent them with the intention of establishing superiority and control over them. In this context, Mai would be a beta and Ty Lee an omega or a beta as well.

That's all for now, I still have some things in mind for this, but I'll share that later, and if you have questions, I'll be happy to answer!

#atla #omegaverse au #omegaverse atla #a/b/o dynamics #aang #katara #toph #sokka #zuko #suki #azula #mai #ty lee #omegaverse #avatar the last airbender #atla aang #atla azula #atla zuko #atla mai #atla katara #atla ty lee #atla toph #atla sokka #atla suki #sukka #maiko #kataang #zukka #tyzula #liv rambles

[negobeauriva]

The Windows95manifesto: In defense of Finland's performance for 2024

Happy first rehearsal week everyone!

The first wave of rehearsals is done, and with it, we have gotten a wave of comments about the performances. Some filled with praise and approval, but some others completely hateful and rude. And today I'm going to talk to you about this second kind of comments about one of this year's controversial entry: Finland's "No Rules!" by Windows95man (Teemu Keisteri) ft. Henri Piispanen.

Many people have said that this entry is a joke, or that it doesn't deserve to be in Eurovision because it's distasteful. But here I am, in defense of uniqueness and weirdness, not only because this entry is in my top 5 this year, but also because it's important to understand what "art" is about. Here's to all the "weird" Eurovision entries that have been called unworthy of stepping on stage because they've been misunderstood.

A special shoutout to @/tottakaibi on Twitter/X because she gave me one of the pointers for this article in particular! And she's constantly in the lookout for Teemu and Henri's projects.

Without further ado, step in and enjoy the read.

No Rules! is, undoubtedly, the most distruptive entry this year - the nudity, fast-paced music and unique mise-en-scene, all make for an entry that many have deemed nonpalatable or not artistic. But behind every art display, there is a story, and I'm here to tell you a little bit more about it.

To start, the staging of No Rules! refers to the Kalevala, a book of finnish folk poetry from the 19th century that contains the myth of creation: Earth was born from an egg, with the shells forming both sky and land. Goddess Ilmatar, mother of nature and creation, soon realized that whatever she touched would grow and her every move was an act of creation itself. And so, she gave birth to Väinämönen, the first man to ever walk upon Earth.

Teemu arising from an egg is a clear reference to the Kalevala myth of creation, and he's even referred to it in some way in a video recently posted by UMK, in which he tells the tale of how Windows95man was born and Henri, in the figure of an eagle, becomes his friend so he can walk on the rule-burdened Earth without caring much for the impositions. It's both a mythical reference and a song of liberation: to not care about what others think and what others say to live freely and happily. To disregard societal "rules" in order to pursue happiness (this, of course, in the sense that you shouldn't care about "neat" or "appropriate", and not about the lack of order).

This song has also been called an anthem of liberation for LGBTQ+ members: No Rules! refers to the absence of gender norms ("Quiet, as I speak / I am the king, I am the queen" // "Is there something wrong with the way I look? / Is there something wrong with who I am?") and to live your life expressing yourself in the way you deem the best fit for you. As an agender person who's constantly told what to wear, what to say and how to act, this song is very meaningful and close to me. It makes me feel a bit better about my identity.

Now, to the point that interests you the most - how can No Rules! be considered an artistic performance, with the disruptive elements that make many shriek in disgust?

Let's begin with this - art is subjective and it's meant to make you feel something, whether good or bad. Art is meant to move something inside you, to make you question things. Have not many artists in the past made paintings about poor people's lives to protest poor living conditions or to showcase how hard it was to get on by? To many, art forms like paintings and sculptures that we now consider artistic were once considered scandalous or distasteful. This is the exact point of this performance.

In a recent documentary called "No Shame", Teemu referred to this - the point of his art is to appeal to disgust, to weirdness and to what makes you question what's tasteful or not. Shock factor also plays an important part in modern art performances. It's about going into the raw parts of your psyche and make you uncomfortable.

Teemu has been a visual artist since 2008, under the name Ukkeli. Vibrant colors, strange outfits and drawings, uncovered butts as part of his art installations and the message "No Rules" as one of his oldest mottos (not surprising, considering that in an interview he said he grew up with hippie parents that were very permissive) are the main features of his work. It's reminiscent of early 2000's adult animation shows, who also had a big shock factor and were frowned upon back then.

In this appeal to weirdness resides the charm of Windows95man's performance - in making you feel uncomfortable and weird, you're proving the exact point of the song. You will be bitter about how Finland could've "sent something better", but that won't change the fact that Teemu and Henri were chosen by his people because they understood the art beyond the shocking display. They understood what living with no rules means, to embrace weirdness, to embrace unique, and not care about what others say. If it makes you feel happy, who says that you're not allowed to like or pursue it?

Let's take a look back - Go_A's Shum, who was also catalogued as weird due to Kateryna's bewitching voice and vocalizations, made it to 5th place with no problem in 2021. Zdob si Zdub & Advahov Brothers' Trenulețul 2022 got to number 7 in 2022, after being called disruptive noise, and Konstrakta's In Corpore Sano made it to 5th place even when it was called creepy by some. Mama ŠČ! by Let3 made it to an impressive 12th place last year, and 3rd place in Dora this year with their strange Baba Roga.

If every country sent the same cookie-cutter type of "safe" song to Eurovision, the contest would be very repetitive and monotone. Let's face it, the public loves unique, loves something that will blow your hats off for three minutes and wondering what happened. They love songs that go off the "normal" standard because it takes you for a trip and makes you jump off your seat. It's no wonder that, in contrast with No Rules! getting so much hate, along with Doomsday Blue (another of the misunderstood entries, reduced only to its wrongly called "satanistic" character), 5Miinust and Puulup seem to be favorites this year, along with Joost Klein, who is rumored to win. People either love or hate weird and unique. Sadly, Finland got the worst end of the stick, and I think that's very unfair.

There's also the double standard, many think that it's inappropriate for Teemu to show up in nude-colored underwear, but they had no problem with female contestants in revealing outfits in previous years. Here's the thing - it's either okay for everyone to wear revealing outfits, or it's not. The argument that 2022's Chanel is given a pass to wearing revealing clothes because "she's a sexy girl speaking about being sexy" is invalid. Beauty, much like art, is subjective. And I do think that Teemu is very beautiful. He is allowed to wear what he wants (of course, according to EBU's standards, and they seem to have approved of the performance as is) and you don't get to say what's tasteful or not based off an aesthetic standard settled in sexism.

To finish this off, let me sum up the most important points of my mini-essay: No Rules! is an artistic performance because it's disruptive, it has elements that refer to Finnish myths and it's a liberation anthem that is meant to reach all those who feel like being themselves is wrong, to make them forget about this world's standards for three minutes and remember that the only person they need to please is themselves. As such, this song accomplishes its goal perfectly and beautifully. To call Teemu and Henri's performance a joke is to bypass every element of its artistry and to insult the artist standing on stage. Finland chose them, and so we must respect their decision and refrain from sending hateful comments.

I do think that we need to keep high hopes for this performance. I know that the two of them will go beyond everything we know and expect and will blow us all away when the Semifinal 1 comes in May 7th. After all, Henri's vocal skills have improved greatly since UMK, and Teemu's charisma can only grow by the second. These two have everything to go far and to show everyone that sometimes, all you need is to not listen to your surroundings and act as your heart commands.

Sometimes, the only rule is no rules.

#eurovision #eurovision 2024 #esc 2024 #esc24 #no rules #windows95man #teemu keisteri #henri piispanen #get this guys to top 5 asap #finland #umk

[rosykims]

finished book one lets GO gaymers

#tay plays twc #oc: triss #her stats are honestly a little wack rn but its fine. shes going thru some real shit so yknow #i also gave her green eyes accidentally. i forgor 💀 so im thinking i might do the recap for book 2 instead of importing a save #BUT ANYWAY. im trying to focus more on a slowburn for her ava route this time #its hard to get the balance right bc she IS flirty. but also subdued #and i wanna flesh out Why shes so into ava other than the fact that *I* am into ava... cough #bc i could very easily also see her doing a farahmance #which most naturally fits her personality #or even a mason route even tho i dont think it would be healthy for her character specifically #the a route is the goldilocks route for her 1000% but now i just need to articulate WHY #something something security + intensity + mutual loneliness + big naturals #🤷‍♀️

[wonder-worker]

"The newly widowed Elizabeth (Woodville) was exceptionally vulnerable. Several of the trustees responsible for her jointure refused to hand over the manors that were meant to sustain her in her widowhood. Moreover, her brother-in-law, Edward Grey, had seized estates that her son Thomas should have inherited from his paternal grandfather, while her mother-in-law’s new young husband, Sir John Bourchier, had prevailed on Lady Ferrers to settle her principal properties on them jointly for life, ensuring that Thomas would have to wait far longer for this inheritance too. Rivers and Scales were pardoned in July 1461 and swiftly moved into the Yorkist establishment, which perhaps explains the success of the chancery suits Elizabeth launched to regain her jointure. Her son’s inheritance proved harder to recover. By 1463, Rivers was often in (Edward IV's) company and on his council, but Elizabeth needed someone with much stronger influence over the King. She turned to a distant kinsman, William, Lord Hastings, the King’s chamberlain. Hastings drove a very hard bargain for his aid but it was probably amid these negotiations that the King’s desire for Elizabeth was kindled."

-J.L. Laynesmith, "Elizabeth Woodville: the Knight's Widow", "Later Plantagenet and Wars of the Roses Consorts: Power, Influence, and Dynasty"

#historicwomendaily #elizabeth woodville #Elizabeth really had terrible in-laws #And these people weren't even the worst of them - that particular award goes to Richard of Gloucester #As complicated as her first widowhood sounds it was a breeze compared to the literal nightmare she went through during her second. #Honestly though: part me wonders what Elizabeth's first marriage was like because we know absolutely nothing about it. #The marriage itself is a blank slate but the fact that her husband's parents & siblings were so indifferent and uncooperative #to her - and their own kid-grandchildren?? - after he died indicates that his family may have been rather dysfunctional imo? #Certainly they (or most of them) don't seem to have cared about the wellbeing or dignity of his young and newly widowed wife which #doesn't exactly suggest closeness or support during the marriage itself from their end. #Elizabeth doesn't mention John Gray in her deathbed will either though she mentions Edward IV. She may have thought it was #'inappropriate' to mention her first husband beside her significantly higher-ranked second husband...but she DOES mention her son by #her first marriage - which would have drawn attention to it anyway - alongside her royal daughter so that's unlikely to have been a reason. #Maybe it was simply the passage of time? She and John had been married for very few years and she lived such a different life after that #So it's possible that her first marriage simply seemed very distant and faraway to her. #Alternatively it may have simply been undivided affection for Edward IV (her husband of 19 years who she married for love) #which fits well into the relatively personal nature of her will. #Of course we don't actually know anything about any of this and this is all pure wild speculation on my end...but I'm curious. #It's really a shame how little we actually know about Elizabeth's life - made worse by the very limited primary records of Edward IV's #reign and the fact that his chamber records don't survive. And it's even more frustrating that this is so rarely actually acknowledged #by historians. I'd argue we know far more about the life & interests of most other 'prominent' women of the Wars of the Roses #(sans the Neville sisters) than we do about Elizabeth Woodville.

[skyland2703]

…ok so I got inspired <3

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Thesis in the tags

#OKAY SO HEAR ME OUT #Amelia is probably the most jealous person to ever relationship. #but it comes naturally ONLY for Javi. she never got jealous while dating Ollie or any of the previous partners. #but when she started dating javi—something flipped a switch in her and BOI OH BOI DID SHE GET. JEALOUS. OF EVERYTHING. #which kinda sucks because Javi is a music sensation and POPULAR 😭 #and she’s Horny. SO. so. SO. horny. like. maybe it’s the Rafkonian biology but if he wakes her up in the middle of the night #saying ‘babe I’m horny’ she just. fucking. would go down on him. then and there. #LIKE SHE WOULD SEE HIM TAKING A PEACEFUL BATH AND GO ‘i wanna fuck you slide over’ #and the exhibitionist kink 😭😭 don’t even get me started on that. #Javi was always a mama’s boy so he is THE best at cooking. his mom is even better. (typical desi mom Rina 😭👍🏻) #and so he makes them food. and she does the dishes because his prosthetics don’t let him do watery work good. #Amelia isn’t good with lovey dovey words. Javi is a POET. #HE TOLD HER HE LOVED HER BY WRITING HER A SONG #AND TELLING HER ‘you are the very oxygen i breathe’. #and he waited for her confession for three years 😭 for her to fall in love with him and for her to tell him she loved him #and like #idk man #also she steals all of his clothes. #Javi got vvv annoyed once realising she doesn’t have ANY super loose sweatshirts and comfortable things to wear. not even pyjamas. #(she used to prefer sleeping naked) but ever since she discovered Javi’s oversized hoodies… that fit juuust perfectly. theresno going back. #ever #anyway thank you for coming to my ted talk :D #they’re sooooo in love your honor I cant~ #power rangers #power rangers dino fury #amelia jones #Javi garcia #cosmic fury #power rangers cosmic fury #dino fury

[dykeinthedark]

venting in tags about gender n shit (long as hell) (u can comment and talk 2 me as always :3)

#okay so i got a really masc haircut about a month ago and i know it's just a haircut but holy shit has it changed EVERYTHING for me #like.... i've always leaned masc except 1) before i came out 2) when i was actively in love with someone who i knew liked femmes #and they always described me as a fem. because that's what i showed her. because i wanted to be with her. #but lowkey whenever i'm in a not-impressing-anyone raw-dogging-life-no-crush era i always resort to a very masc style #like masc being my default and i'd only lean fem to impress people whether it's for love or peer pressure in a specific setting #like ''dressing up'' has always been a form of drag to me. like something i HAD to do to fit in or impress my parents (scott favor core) #but ever since this haircut i've realized... i could just BE masc innately like i really don't have to be womanly if i don't want to #which i usually don't. again i have only ever dressed fem for other people. but it's not even being masc that attracts me on its own #it's like. being masc in a distinctly lesbian way. as in whenever i look in the mirror i don't wanna be like a Guy i wanna be a dyke. #like lesbian as a gender identity too sort of thing honestly. okay i've been waffling but basically i sort of want to call myself butch #but i don't know if i like... can?? if i'm allowed to??? #everyone always says it's MORE than just wearing boy clothes and not wearing makeup and having short hair (which i already do all those) #i mean i've always id'd as genderqueer because it literally just means gender weird and i experience gender in a queer way #what's probably the most telling is that my friends (all queer) CALL me a butch lesbian #like every time they do i feel really internally validated. it's not just my clothes but my personality too ig is what people tell me #i have a higher pitched voice relatively speaking but apparently the way i talk is quote ''very clockably into women'' #which?? gender euphoria asf. my best friend specifically he (gay trans guy) always uses butch to describe me very intuitively #people have also noticed that i ''transitioned'' in all aspects except hormonally. like ppl have commented and noticed my masculinzation #but at the same time i always feel rly haunted by my ex relationships because one wanted me to be more masc #(she's the one who came out as straight and would treat me like a man) which i didn't like and i didn't like playing up being fem either #bc now it feels like she (butch) won't believe me if i called myself butch too bc she remembers me being femme #idk i feel like there's her voice in my head all the time that sees everything i do through her eyes (i'm lowkey still in love) #i feel like even though this comes so naturally to me i must be putting on a performance #even though i've actually read stone butch blues and done research into the history and i truly love and id with the culture like i rly do #that im still just a sad imitation of a butch lesbian and can never really be a part of it because i used to enjoy dressing up sometimes #like it's so stupid but can i still be butch if i wore a dress to prom and i think i looked good in it?? #even though i was envious of my friends who wore suits?? that i used to try goth makeup?? that i liked long dresses?? #that i enjoyed stacked necklaces and rings on every finger??? #and tbh ALL OF THAT CAME FROM A CONCIOUS EFFORT TO FEMINIZE MYSELF IN JUNIOR YEAR OF HIGHSCHOOL WHEN I WAS 16 #because omfg it was 2 months before junior prom and i was worried that i was too masc and wanted to get comfortable with being fem

[aroacettorney]

dont mind me. im simply just putting together a ludgercasey angst collection.

252

265

203

268

271

283

310

356

492

497

#aro ludgercasey propaganda #''why cant u be normal abt them'' how can i be normal abt them when solid 80% of their interactions is either angst or stemmed from angst. #even their ''fluff'' moments were also angst. #literally no one does angst like they do. #ludger prefers to keep most of his connections extremely impersonal/professional. #but whether or not he wants to admit it theirs on the other hand simply does not... fit in that category. #he'd even tried to convert it that way but it just didnt stick bc neither of them could help but be themselves around each other lmfao. #ludger is seemly still oblivious to caseys attempt to mend their personal relationship. #which is not too surprising considering he was also oblivious to the existence of their past relationship. #after all there was no reason for him to believe that casey would want to have anything to do with him. except maybe putting him in jail. #so pushing her away seems to be the most logical decision right? personal relationship is a luxury to him anyway. #alas casey who wanted to believe in their past friendship takes it as a sign that ludger has no interest in maintaining it. #she now has to take a step back because ''if you force a relationship it may become more estranged.'' #so unless he takes the initiative they are likely stuck in this limbo. #(casey might use impersonal excuses to stay around but rn its all up to ludger to change the nature of their relationship) #casey girlie forget him i would have treated you so much better... is what i would have loved to say. #i wouldnt be suffering this much if ludger wasnt clearly holding himself back most of the time / if it was completely one-sided from casey. #i dont know if this is a slow burn or hurt no comfort but if casey gets no closure im gonna commit arson 😔

[iwoulddieforienzo]

They’re fucking with us

#I have been burnt out on both these games for months but I got jumpscared by this guy and I must say. What #first it was Skirk and… I forget her name. but?? #um. hello? #the fact that they’re in the same universe makes this weirder. youre suggesting a connection here #Im just forever annoyed that despite being 2 different games they have the exact same design philosophy #you could shove any character from either game into the other and they would fit #(okay you’d have to drop some of the fancy weaponry but Chevruse has a Gun.) #and that’s because the designs themselves are meant to look as appealing as possible with little room for storytelling #ESPECIALLY THE WOMEN #and it bothers me A Lot even if I can recognize the intent. this is their business model it’s.. it’s whatever fine #but this is just getting a lil silly methinks #‘it’s just hair’ their hair is the most distinguishing thing about them. their outfits are similar in nature and they share a color scheme #it doesn’t matter how different their personalities are or that they’re in different games because they were made by the same company #in a connected universe #one of which is the most popular characters in the game since she was first teased #without a clear timeline of which game came first if they aren’t happening concurrently and the connected between them unclear #we can’t really say what the connection between these two is #I don’t truly care that much I’m just endlessly baffled that this keeps happening #snack time #genshin impact #hsr

[butchratchettruther]

Thinking about Fracture and Algorithm again

#I’m really trying to pin down their relationship #(Their relationship btw is really like close friends like they totally get each other on a level no one else does and they both have #feelings for each other and they both know that the other likes them the same way but still neither of them will be the first one to ask #the other out and they’ve been like this for millenia just circling each other with their deep care for the other and their understanding #but still neither of them wanting to make the first move because they’ve found a kind of comfort in just circling each other. But they #still both so desperately want to be more) #Also thinking about their personalities and how they’d like. Fit together and match and stuff #Like Fracture’s sweet and caring but tough as fucking nails and overprotective personality #And Algorithm’s slightly cold and removed but under the surface deeply deeply caring personality #Like I think I have it sorted out for the most part but it’s just. Missing something #Like Algorithm will do things for Fracture because he sees she’s upset and is trying to comfort her in the best way he can #And like his complete understanding and care for Fracture #And Fracture’s overprotective nature and mutual deep deep care for Algorithm #And how she understands how much these little gestures mean to Algorithm and how she appreciates them so so mucg #And how she cares so deeply about Algorithm and their friendship/relationship (which actually ends up being a tragic flaw but shhh) #but there’s just something missing #pluto talks about ocs #Algorithm #Fracture

[arolesbianism]

I need to find new eternal gales songs right now I cannot keep living with most of the playlist being shit I listened to in 2018

#rat rambles #oc posting #eternal gales #I cant in good conscience remove most of them tho cause they've been in the eg playlist scene for too long 😔 #<- referring mostly to call them brothers by regina spektor and silence by mike posner #like one of those was the main inspiration for one of my favorite scenes in the whole story #and was also if Im remembering correctly one of the big inspirations for alpha back in the day #well alpha and beats relationship more specifically but thats how alpha started exists so yknow #the other is an au snek song that manages to still fit well enough despite her backstory being completely reworked over the years #the snake siblings real og song was oh ana by mother mother and its another one thats still on the playlist albiet for owl nowadays #it was technically an au snek song back in the day but it was also what inspired the threes design in the first place #I had the image of a snake girl with two snakes on her shoulders all speaking in unison #which evolved into original au snek and I made all three of them proper characters for the main version of them #in au snek's original concept she had illusion based powers and used them to create fake versions of her brothers after they died #but that got scrapped during the reboot as I had long since grown to kinda hate the concept at that point #in fact the only one of the au antags that were mostly left untouched is owl I think #pretty much the only thing that rly changed was the nature of the being that took over her body #even au bloom who is still mostly the same personality and motivation wise had a completely different origin story and design #she was originally like an amalgamation of a bunch of different blooms along side some god like being? it was weird #now tho they're just some guy #au fydd also hasnt changed too much but I did age him up and he also was effected by the heavy changes made to base fydd over time #aka making him a bird boy #but yeah rip to au aris girlie has been stuck in brainstorming hell for the past 5 years #I think I have her pretty set in stone now but I thought that last time too so who knows gmfjfndg

[urhoneycombwitch]

common tongue of you lovin' me

🍯 honey flavour: touchstarved loverboy smut

🐝 the bees: Eddie x reader

wc: 2.5k 

content warnings: nervous Eddie, touchstarved R, smut, dry humping (is it actually dry if they’re both wet…?), cumming in pants, one (1) use of the word “daddy”, light use of the miscommunication trope

foreword: based on THIS anon everyone say THANKS anon. R and Eddie are in their early 20’s, R is on a gap year from college (so me), they’re in a new relationship with each other, I’m writing this while blasted on edibles idk what else to say 0_o

____

By nature, Eddie Munson is not a shy person.

Even though his dark reputation in Hawkins hasn’t been completely erased, he still manages to make friends wherever he goes through sheer force of personality. It’s like a magic trick, one that you never get tired of- he’ll pause in the middle of grocery stores to make faces at a baby in a stroller, getting belly laughs out of a stranger’s kid in less than ten seconds while still holding your hand down the aisle. One second he’s right behind you in the record store, looking over your shoulder as you browsed, and the next he’ll be on one knee charming a elementary school-aged kid into getting the latest Dio album.

You’ve seen him flirt his way out of speeding tickets with Hopper, for christ’s sake. 

Eddie isn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, so after three months of nothing but chaste kisses and quiet hand-holding, you’re left to assume he actually wants to take things slow with you.

He’s been nothing but a gentleman, in these early days of dating- the most action you’ve gotten from him was unintentional. On your third date, a dollop of his ice cream landed on your lap when he used the cone to gesture, which led him to manically grabbing napkins out of his dashboard to wipe at your skirt while you laughed it off. The second he’d brushed against your bare thigh he snapped his hands back like he’d touched a live wire, hastily heaping on apologies, leaving you to allay his nerves while wiping at the stain yourself.  

Which, whatever. It’s fine. It’s not like you’re complaining about him being respectful, per se, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder (hah) to pretend like you don’t wanna fuck him. The feeling between your thighs only seems to increase in intensity when he gives you one of those precious little hand kisses at the end of a date, or a closed-mouth peck before he drives off into the night. 

Unfortunately for you and your wet dreams, Eddie Munson has the most edible body you’ve ever seen. Biceps bulging through those form-fitting tees he likes to wear, rounded nose and strong jaw outlined by that cloud of soft black hair, those lithe hips…

Hips that you’re openly staring at from across the room as you sit quietly on Eddie’s couch. He’s reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, his Metallica tee pulling up out of his dark denim at the motion, flashing a stripe of his pale lower back.  

You feel like a Victorian maid seeing ankle for the first time. You subtly press your thighs together under your short tartan skirt as Eddie moves around the kitchen, talking animatedly about the start of his upcoming campaign.

“I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna go easy on the little shits or not,” he says, metal spoon clinking against ceramic as he mixes hot chocolate powder. “It’s Max’s first session as an official player, and I don’t wanna scare her off but I do have a reputation to uphold.”

“Yeah,” you agree, giving him a knowing smile as he crosses the room to pass you your mug- “You’re a DM most fearsome. Can’t let them off the hook too easily.”

Eddie blooms under your praise, wiggling his eyebrows with familiar cockiness as he settles on the cushion beside you. “Gotta keep Hawkins' finest in line. It’s a tough gig but I did swear an oath, after all.”

You smile around a sip of hot cocoa, then reach over to set your mug on the coffee table. Eddie has been sat in his usual manner (knees far enough apart to be taking up his whole seat, arm draped casually on the back of the couch) but the second your knee knocks against his, he adjusts himself stiffly, drawing his arm back with a nervous throat-clearing and a murmured “sorry”.

Normally you’d let it go, not wanting to push the issue past the point of his comfortability. But it’s been Three. Months. Of this. And you wanna test the waters, just a little.

“Sorry for what?” You ask, rotating to face him, your shoulders almost-but-not-quite touching.

He’d doing an uncanny impression of a deer caught in headlights, blinking at you with those doey brown eyes, stuttering his way through a weak explanation- “Uh… uh. Sorry for being- f-for touching you?”

There’s a lift at the end of his sentence, one that you mirror with a tilt of your own brow, a playful challenge. “You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Eddie. I’m your girlfriend.”

He chuckles, a nervous edge bleeding around the sound. The curls around his face dance with the head shake he gives. “No, of course, yeah, I know that.”

“Do you?” You scoot closer, a kick of assertiveness giving you the courage to press your leg against his. 

“Uh huh.” He’s gazing openly now at the bare skin of your thigh, like he’s waiting to see if it'll burn a hole into his denim. 

When you gently lift his hand and place it on the skin that he’s looking at, you hear him gulp, audibly. 

So he does want to touch you. Interesting.  

You know for a fact Eddie’s not a virgin. Back in high school, you’d both dated around your respective circles, gossip surrounding escapades in the Munson Van circulating back to you through mutual friends. When he’d asked you out a few months previous, you’d happily accepted, wanting to take full advantage of your interim gap year from college. For the first few weeks, you’d chalked his near-celibate behavior up to nerves.

But now, you’ve got him squirming with just a thigh touch. So maybe… he’s waiting for you to make the first move?

Fuck testing the waters- you’re gonna dive in head-first. 

You swing your leg over his lap, kneeling on the outside of his hips. His hands automatically go to your waist, and he lets out a little “Oh” as you rest your arms around his shoulders.

“You gonna kiss your girlfriend?” you whisper, forehead crushing into his bangs as you wrap a hand around the back of his neck.

Eddie looks up at you like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time, eyes sparkling with want. “Yeah,” he rasps, angling his face up to kiss you.

It’s soft, at first, like it always has been. His plush lips softly move against yours, breaking for air once, twice; when he kisses you with that same softness for a third time you press your tongue to the seam between his lips.

He lets you in with a little noise, low in the back of his throat as you lick into his mouth. His hands twitch on your hips as your tongues twine, slight movements in his own hips creating a ripple effect.

When the hard seam of his jeans bumps against the warmth of your cunt, you both gasp, your hand at the back of his neck tightening. 

“We should probably, um-” he’s panting against your mouth, grip flexing between hard and soft- “I mean, if you wanna stop…”

“I don’t wanna stop. Do you wanna stop?” you ask, equally out of breath.

“Fuck no,” he rasps again, in that smoke-salt voice, and this time when he kisses you it’s with one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling your hips to meet his.

The noises from the wet slide of your mouths are turning you on more than you care to admit, and you’re sure he can feel the damp patch that’s soaking through your panties as the crotch of his jeans make contact again. Which normally would make you feel really self-conscious, if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s hard as a rock underneath you, the bulge in his pants thickening with each roll of your hips.

You drop your kisses down, exploring where you haven’t been able to before: against his cheek, his jaw, stopping just behind his ear. Unable to help yourself, you graze your teeth against the velvet skin there, and he jolts beneath you with a small yelp.

“Sorry,” you whisper, still a touch mirthful but soothing your tongue over the mark.

Eddie brushes his thumb across the back of your neck as you continue your path down the column of his throat. “Now who’s sayin’ sorry for no reason. Baby, I’m begging you to do that again.”

So you do, this time at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, grinning against his skin when he groans and bucks his hips up. 

Around your hickey-making, he’s choking out words that you just manage to string together. “I wanna… make you feel- christ, sweetheart- good too, wanna make it good for you-”

When you sit up to see his face, he looks absolutely wrecked- rosy flush in his cheeks, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, pupils blown so big his eyes are nearly black with lust.

“You are making me feel good,” you assure him, pulling the hand he’s got on your neck down to where the end of your skirt sits, pausing before your next move. “You want me to prove it?”

He nods, and you guide him into the warmth of your thighs, letting his fingers graze the stickiness that’s been steadily soaking through the fabric.

Eddie inhales sharply, moans out, “Fuck, honey”, and when his thumb finds your clit you sink down into his touch, stomach tightening with the shock of arousal coursing through you.

He’s watching your face intently as he slowly circles your clit, gauging your reactions, pressing in a bit harder and faster when the pace change makes you cry out.

Feeling doubly exposed with his eye contact and hand against your core, you try making a joke to diffuse some of the tension as the pad of his finger moves against you in steady rhythm. “Still thinkin’ about stopping?”

“A train could crash through that wall and it wouldn’t stop me for a second,” Eddie says, resolute and getting a little braver, kissing his own path across your throat, nibbling at a spot that makes your clit pulse beneath his fingertip and your cunt clench around nothing. 

Goddamn, he’s a quick learner. In less than two minutes he’s got you so close to the edge, squirming around his touch, that you have to grab his wrist and still his fingers between your thighs.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. You can feel his breath punching up down up, your breasts pushed up against his chest from the way your body was trying to coil in on itself.

“Nothing,” you assure him, and now it’s your turn to falter around your words. “I just- maybe can I… I wanna get o-off at the same time. If you want. And I’m really, really close.”

Eddie’s head falls back against the couch with a thunk, eyes scrunching shut as if in concentration, a strung-out whine leaving his throat. “Hang on. Give me a second.”

He’s still got his hand on your clothed pussy, and you can’t help but giggle once he blinks back to the present, dazed- “Christ. You can’t say shit like that, baby, I almost came in my jeans.”

You give him a condescending little pout, accented with another twist of your hips. “Well maybe that’s what I want.”

“Give you anything,” Eddie replies, unabashedly babbling now as you adjust yourself in his lap. “Anything you want, sweetheart. It’s yours. All yours.”

He helps you maneuver into a new angle: now, your drenched core can rub freely against his thigh, while your knee in the socket of his hip means he can rut his cock along the flat of your leg.

When you move experimentally in shallow circles on his thigh, the newly-gained friction lights up your throbbing clit. Soon, all pretenses melt away as you both find your rhythm again, little grunts and pants filling the air.

“Feel good, angel? That’s it,” Eddie encourages, slipping his hand under your skirt to grope at the meat of your ass, helping your movements along as he chases his own pleasure with a rocking grind against your leg. “Take what you need. Lemme get you there. Please, please…”

His whines spur you on, one of your hands shooting out to clutch at the back of the couch beside his head while the other anchors itself on his opposing bicep. “Fuck, Eddie, keep talking like that, ‘m so close…”

“Talk to you all day,” he heaves out, “you make me so fucking hard, princess. You feel how hard I am for you? God, you’re so wet, that’s so fucking hot…”

You should have expected that bravado and charm you’ve seen these last few years to naturally be carried over into his sex life, but god, not in your wettest of dreams could you have imagined the mouth on him. 

The combination of his dirty talk and thigh between your legs is bringing you right up to that edge again, toes curling in anticipation, cunt starting to flutter erratically with every thrust.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come…” your head rolls back on its hinge, eyes flickering shut as Eddie fumbles to catch at your clit again, movements becoming sloppy. 

“C’mon, pretty baby, let go.” He’s sucking another mark into your neck between his praises, teeth catching- “Let me see you come, honey, be a good girl for daddy…”

“Jesus FUCKING christ” is all you manage to grit out before you’re tipping over the edge into orgasm, all your muscles bearing down into the bright point of pleasure, high sob winding its way from your throat. 

Eddie keeps kneading at your spasming clit as you ride it out on his thigh, even as he lets out a series of short, keening whimpers, even as his cock jerks against your leg into his own release. 

You sag into his waiting arms, tittering lightly against his neck as you both work on catching your collective breaths. 

“Holy shit, and I was really starting to think you actually didn’t want to fuck me.” You laugh in relief.

His hand pauses mid-stroke up the slope of your back, sounding genuinely aghast when he asks “Why the fuck would you think that?”

You straighten in his arms with an incredulous stare. “Uh, maybe because you acted like a monk that I was corrupting every time I even breathed near you?”

Eddie covers his eyes with his hands, heels to sockets, groaning- “Fuck, honey, I was tryn’a be respectful. You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this sooner?”

You reach to soothe your palms over the length of his forearms, equally fond and serious when you say “I’m telling you I absolutely would have slept with you on the first date.”

He makes a strangled, pained noise before you continue- “You described to me in detail the entire mating cycle of a bat, and then walked directly into a trash can by accident. How did you expect me to wait on jumping your bones?”

He lets you take his hands, enveloping them in your own and bringing them to your chest, pressing your lips affectionately to each ring.

He whispers, “Can I ask you something?” 

When you look up at him again, he says, with sincerity, “Can I see your tits next time?”

You hide your laughter into the crook of his neck. 

________

guys i cannot stress how high I am is this even any good plz perceive me 

#eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x you #e.m. thots from lu #drabble #smut #mdni

[losersiren]

𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓛𝓸𝓻𝓭

"𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝑜𝒽, 𝒾𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝓃𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒶 𝓅𝓁𝑒𝒶𝓈𝓊𝓇𝑒.” CW: Fem reader (she/her), possessiveness, suggestive Note: This is my first time writing something like this and posting it...go easy on me o(>< )o

The chandlers decorated the ceiling above the spacious ballroom, giving a gentle glow to the people filling said ballroom. The social season has just started to blossom, giving men and women room to court each other if one is blessed with the opportunity for such an experience. Catching the eye of a reliable suitor is quite troublesome– most of the men here do not fit any of your requirements, and if they did, they would suddenly be caught in a scandal of sorts, causing them to be an outcast. Not a good look on you or your family name.

You idly toy with the fan in your hand, your gaze sweeping over the sea of faces in the room. The task at hand feels insurmountable, and finding a suitable suitor in this town is daunting. Perhaps, you muse, debuting late was a misstep, a decision that now seems to mock you. You could always become a spinster…and ruin your reputation and lineage because you choose such an idiotic choice… regrettably it may be the easier option. 

“Pray tell why you’re glued to this corner as if you’re some wallflower,” A witty baritone voice whispers in your ear, the hairs of your neck standing upright while a cold shiver runs down your spine.

The sense of familiarity washes over you, and the resentment still lingers from years ago makes its way forward. The Earl’s son, your childhood close friend, who left you without a word after he said he’d be there for you.

What a bastard

“Have you ever heard of personal space? Or have you forgotten the amount of lectures your mother ingrained into your head on etiquette when you were just a brat?” You bite back with venom coating every word you spit out. You place your fan on your left ear.

”Ah, I see.” He steps back and gives you space. “You’ve become cold-hearted towards me since my departure overseas. I was only gone for a mere moment.” He switches his position from behind you to in front of you. He takes up your whole vision, his maturity, more evident now since the last time you saw him as a juvenile boy. It's been a few years, hasn't it? Yet he still has his teasing nature; no boarding school or amount of lectures can take that away from him. He bows a little lower than he should, his right hand to the opposite shoulder and his left arm behind his back. He looks up at you with those oh-so-regretful grey eyes. “I wholeheartedly apologize for departing overseas in such an impulsive matter without even notifying you in any way. I should’ve sent you letters and a hoard of messenger doves to accompany you”. “But I did not, and for that, my Lady, I've made a significant sin in your eyes– I do not deserve your forgiveness, but oh, if you could grant me such a pleasure.”

His voice is as quiet and soft as a starving mouse stealing food from a kitchen, careful for only your ears to pick up his pleas for forgiveness. Just as though you were a goddess punishing him, which he should be reprimanded tenfold in his eyes, who was he to abandon you without a trace? Though the situation before was entirely out of his hands, he didn’t want to go to that goddamned private school that was away from you; he fought tooth and nail not to go. Every house servant had to push and hold him down because he kept fighting; even his family members were victims of his wrath. His father, The Earl, still has fading scars from that night years ago.

He should’ve fought harder for you.

People around you start noticing; who wouldn’t? One of the most prestigious Earls of this country’s only son is bowing dishonourably low, borderline grovelling like a peasant caught stealing a measly loaf of bread. You feel eyes turning onto you, women whispering between their fans to one another, wondering in what predicament the next-in-line Earl would be for him to be embarrassingly bowing to a one-of-a-mill daughter of a viscount—a rank lower than him and a woman at that; your fan placement is not making it look better. Immediately change the position of your fan from your left ear to twirling it in your left hand, hoping he understands the situation he has put not only him but you in.

 He only smiles in return. “Stand straight; You look like a fool.” You hiss, “Do I have your forgiveness, Darling?” a scoff escapes your mouth. “That is either here or there! Be proper. Others are watching.” That doesnt deter him, nor does he care about them. “So my apology wasn't sufficient? Since you are thinking about everyone else but me.” More eyes make their way onto the pair of you, and whispers grow with the exchange of gossip. “You’re acting like a child-” He cuts you off. “Shall I go on my knees for you? I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but preferably, I would love to be in a more…secluded environment.” A smirk graces his lips at the thought. “Or shall I kiss your feet-” 

“You are a soon-to-be- Earl! Has that school taught you nothing? God, you’ve become more insufferable, I swear.” Your face feels warmer now, and embarrassment takes over you from his childish yet sincere teasing.

The young lord’s eyes fixated on you, on your lips, how your dress accentuates your already perfect self, your hands, oh, how he wishes to feel them against his. The years it's been since he saw you, he could listen to you scold him for hours on end; it doesn’t matter what you are saying. Just hearing your voice is enough. God knows it's been too long since he’s been deprived of you. He thanks his past self for sabotaging whatever male decided to even think of courting you. Though he was far away, his social standing never changed.

The lord decided by the second month he was away from you to pay his old servants to send him as much information as possible on the vermins that would try to nestle their way into your life. He would…No, he has ruined anyone who wanted to get in between you two. And he’ll keep it that way. You’ve stolen his heart since meeting him as a lad.

“So you wish for me to kneel? As you wish.” He starts to kneel; gasps can be heard. But you stop him, holding his shoulders upright; his eyes widen as you touch him.

You’re so close

“I forgive you…I forgive you…”

“I forgive you, Ambrose…”

Oh…

His name on your tongue….

His mind blanks. Has he gone to heaven? Oh, you sweet angel, you have him wrapped around your finger. And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

His smile is blinding as he stands and looks down at you.

“Then now that's settled…May I have the honour of a dance with yours truly?”

.." Or shall I beg more?"

End Notes: Fun fact (not really): I based most of this post on The Regency era, and that includes fan language! That is why I described the readers' actions with it. Placing the fan on your left ear means "I wish to get rid of you." Twirling the fan with your left hand means "We are watched." Thought that would be something fun to add (^.^)

#help idk what im doing #yandere x female reader #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere male x reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc x y/n #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere drabble #male yandere #soft yandere #yandere oc #yandere x darling #yandere blog #yandere rambles #yandere fic #x reader #oc x reader #oc x you #yandere male

[koishua]

★. 𝐄𝐍— and the orange peel theory.

! © 𝗞𝗢𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗨𝗔 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰, 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗩𝗘𝗗.

starring hee, jay, jake. + their version of the orange peel theory

━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

he doesn't think anything of it when he snaps your chopsticks in two for you from where he is positioned across you. the plastic chairs in front of the convenience store upon which you're seated on aren't the most comfortable, the sharp edges digging into your skin on occasions when you fidget around trying to find a way to strike up a conversation with the man you can't bare to label as your friend now.

the bamboo sticks now rest on top of the lid of your bowl of instant ramen, currently waiting to be fully cooked within the three minute time frame the instructions had given you. you notice how they hadn't split equally, one having snapped away a small portion of the other side with it. the irony of it all feels comical when you detach yourself from the situation you're currently trying not to run away from.

heeseung doesn't say much as you hesitantly take the broken utensil. he can only pretend to awkwardly observe the engravings in the table, occasionally glancing at the dainty chain of the necklace hiding under your collar. it had been his fingers to graze against the skin of your neck to clasp it together for you. he wonders what hurts more; remembering, or having to force himself to forget about it all?

━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐉𝐀𝐘

the house is quiet, had been for hours now, except for your frantic breaths and hurried stomps while darting from room to room, trying to find your bearings as the time ticks by much too quickly for your liking. the alarms you'd set for your lecture hadn't rung (they had, actually— no one would dare to disagree, however), which had naturally resulted in you running late for it yet again.

your lips lift lopsidedly moments after the neatly framed picture of the happiest moment of your life catches your eye as you try to put on the stubborn socks you'd fished out from the drawer on your side of the bed. jay had always been beautiful, even back when he still had that boyish smirk constantly plastered over his face, hair a mess.

you make a mental note to wipe away the dust that had started to form a thin sheet over the wooden frame, though that too is quickly forgotten when you realize that he'd very kindly filled up your bottle with water and placed it next to the most comfortable shoes you owned he'd laid nearly on the floor by the door, certain of your forgetful habits.

━━━━━━━━━━━ 𝐉𝐀𝐊𝐄

layla's tail wags excitedly at the sight of the treat in your hands that you leave for her to enjoy. smoothing over the gingham sheet before laying back on the lap of your favourite person in this universe and the next, from where you look up at him, the sun blazing in the sky makes it look like he's emitting a heavenly glow. fitting for someone like sim jake.

days like this don't come by often for either of you, so having you right by him, the weather as beautiful as it could ever get. this is what he'd describe heaven to feel like. every part of his body beats with the insatiable desire to always have you as close to him as possible, day and night.

the cool breeze is a constant visitor to your little spot by the beach, a welcome addition to the already magical day. realising that he'd gotten lost in his thoughts, he looks down at your serene expression, off somewhere in dreamland, most likely. his thumb gently traces under your eyes, a ghostly touch afraid of waking you up from your deserved rest. he unclips the hair accessories he can see tugging and digging into your skin before adjusting the shade to cover your eyes.

this is his dreamland.

notes from vie: couldn't help it with the hee angst y'all im sorry it's a koishua must. it was very mild tho so yeah enjoy please i haven't exercised my enha writing skills in ages and as always pls reblog muah muah ignore any errors i haven't got the energy to correct them myself 🍊🍊

#enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen x reader #heeseung imagines #heeseung fluff #jake imagines #jake fluff #jay imagines #jay fluff #jay x reader #heeseung x reader #jake x reader #enhypen scenarios #enhypen headcanons

[wandamaximoffsbadgirl]

The Witch's Bodyguard

Actress!Wanda Maximoff x Bodygaurd!Fem!Reader

Summary: Wanda is in need of a new bodyguard and you are called upon to fill in.

Word Count:

Warnings: None this is just a set up and establish chapter

A/N: I'm so glad you're all looking forward to this series!

Wanda Maximoff; sure you'd heard the name before. She was one of the top celebrities around. You didn't pay any of it much mind as you worked security at a gala. Your manager had asked you to work there since she'd be there talking about contracts with people. She had other bodyguards under her, but she always favored you. 

“Y/N?” You hear your manager, Val, called out as you stand on the balcony making you turn towards her. Next to her was Wanda Maximoff, you'd seen her around talking with a handful of others like Natasha Romanoff and Kate Bishop. 

“What's up Val? Everything okay?” You ask immediately going into guard mode. She chuckles a bit, putting a hand on your bicep. 

“Calm down. Nothing serious. Miss. Maximoff here was asking about you when she overheard me speaking so highly of you.” You looked over at the ash blonde, you had seen earlier someone playing the trailer for her upcoming movie which explained the blonde instead of her natural brunette.

“Ma'am.” You gave a nice enough smile and held out your hand. 

“It is very nice to meet you…” Her voice trailed off, leaving you to fill in.

“Y/L/N. Y/N Y/L/N.” She smiles and takes your hand.  You see her eyes rake over you, assessing if you'd be a good fit. Currently you were wearing black army pants and a tight fitting black short sleeve shirt. As she looked you over, you swear you see her bite her lip.

“You said she's available, right?” Wanda looks away, back to Val, as if you suddenly don't exist anymore.

“Yes she's open right now. We can draw up a contract for you to look over if you'd like?” Val suggests earning a smile from Wanda.

“That would be lovely. Can it be ready tomorrow? My last bodyguard had to take a leave so I am I'm need of one as soon as possible.” You wonder what could have possibly happened for only a moment before your presence is being requested elsewhere through your ear piece.

“It was lovely to meet you Miss. Maximoff, but I'm needed in the main hall concerning a matter.” You take your leave with a smile, getting one back from both women. 

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You had woken up at 5am, done your workout, showered, and had breakfast before you were being summoned by Val for this new contract. Standing in the at home office with Val, Wanda, and a handful of lawyers and other important people from Wanda's team all gathered. You stood at ease behind Val wearing much the same as you were yesterday. Only difference was an army green shirt today.

“We need your signature Mrs. Y/L/N, can we get your signature?” One of the lawyers asked.

“It's Miss and yes you can.” The lawyer looked at the paperwork and Val then went back to you. “I told you to fix that, Val.” you hissed as you signed and initial on the lines indicated. You were used to this by now. You'd been through dozens of contracts with Val. You knew every word in the contract by now.

Your eyes flicked up to Wanda, feeling her eyes on you as you signed. It felt like she wanted to say something, but decided against it as you finished your signatures, pushing the papers back to the lawyer. 

When everything was said and done most of Wanda's team left leaving just Wanda, Val, her manager Agatha, and yourself. There was small talk mostly of what it would entail. One of them being you'd be a live-in bodyguard for her. Sure Wanda had other guards, but you would be her personal bodyguard and she needed you at all times of the day. 

You couldn't complain really. Leaving the old stuffy apartment you'd wanted to leave behind for a while now would be good. You didn't have to pay rent or anything. Food would be provided and you'd still be getting a paycheck each week. It was probably the best possible outcome you could have asked for. 

“Well hire some movers to get all your belongings and bring them here.” Wanda spoke as you followed her down the hallway, her heels clicking on the hardwood. You took in the different pieces of artwork she kept around the house. Her home is mostly filled with white, gray, and blacks. The only splashes of color are scarlet hues every so often mixed into things such as a blanket or an accent rug. “This will be your room here.” 

She opens a door to show off a rather blank room at the moment, but it's bigger than your whole apartment had been and it even has its own bathroom. You were a little in shock. This was a first for you being 24/7 for someone so you'd never stayed in any other celebrity's houses. 

“Once we get your stuff here anything else you might need we can go get or order whichever you prefer.” You honestly weren't sure what to say.

“Oh thank you Miss. Maximoff, but once we get my things here I should be fine. I don't need much, honestly if I didn't have anything besides clothes this room alone would be enough for me.” She let's out a bubbly laugh at your statement. 

“A minimalist. I like that.” She responds and you turn to fully face her.

“I did four tours in Afghanistan ma'am you learn to live minimally.” You tell her. She pauses a moment as if unsure what to say as she just looks at you. 

“Straight out of high school?” She finally asks, but you have the feeling it wasn't what she really wanted to say.

“Yes ma'am. Did four tours and then met Val through a martial art class. I was trying to blow off steam in a healthy manner after coming back. We got to talking and she asked if I wanted to work for her. The rest is history.” You explain without giving away too much. You didn't like any one person knowing everything. She simply nods.

“Well if you need to grab anything we can go do that. Clothes, essentials, all the big stuff we can worry about tomorrow.” 

“We?” 

“Yes. You're supposed to stay close to me and if you need to grab your things then I'm going with you.” She says with a smile. Guess you were stuck with her now. At least she's nice. You've had to work with some people who aren't and you couldn't stand being around them. 

“We can go whenever you're ready.” she tells you, starting to leave the room as you follow close behind.

“Ready when you are ma'am.” 

Taglist: @dorabledewdroop @rroyale-109 @wandanat01 @scarlizziee @nixxnsworld @snoozingredpanda @mrsromanovaa @sweet--escape17

#ley speaks #ley writes #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda x you #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #actress!wanda #beefy!fem!reader #bodyguard!reader #bodyguard au #The Witch's Bodyguard #TWB

[dcxdpdabbles]

Heya! I love your works! You always manage to turn tropes on their heads and make them anew! I was wondering, are you going to continue The Audit? I loved the dynamics of the Bats interacting with Danny, and Damian and Danny's relationship was downright delightful!

Damian rarely got nervous because of the tension in the room. It wasn't in his nature, having been born with Father's ability to keep a cool head.

But watching the stare-down between his Father and Uncle Daniel was very nerve-wracking. He was still determining who was winning at this point. Father had retreated fully into Batman, locking away all and any emotions behind his persona, which was bizarre to see on his maskless face.

Meanwhile, Uncle Daniel's emotions are displayed for the world to see in the heavy set of his jaw, the down pull of his lips, and the ice in his gaze.

Between the two men sat a pile of paper with various red markings. Damian hadn't gotten the chance to review the documents, but he knew there was a lot, and most of it had not been good. He likely failed the audit.

His uncle had stayed at Wayne Manor for three days, despite the many attempts by the Bats besides Damian to get him out. He had been silently observing everything that happened within the manor's walls. Uncle Daniel took his position as an observer in the literal sense.

He did not speak or interact with anyone besides Damian and often ended up scaring his adoptive siblings since they didn't notice him in the room. Damian personally thinks it was their own fault for being frightened. Obviously, they needed more training if they were unable to detect his uncle.

It's not like the man was hiding; he is good at entering rooms as silent as a ghost. Damian knew all other league-raised children could sense when Uncle Daniel was about, so really, people trained by Batman should have caught him miles away.

Todd and Cain were an honest disgrace for failing to notice Uncle Daniel until his pen clicked to write down what he observed. Damian attempted to improve things by presenting the best of Wayne Manor, but he knew the more he tried, the more Uncle Daniel used the red pen.

He only thought he did well on the audit by showing off his various animal friends. Uncle Daniel seemed very taken with Batcow the most, and after helping Damian milk her, he had finally switched the color on his multi-pen to green.

"I will not repeat myself again, Mr. Wayne," Uncle Daniel hissed, snapping Damian from his thoughts. Father's eyes narrowed.

"You deemed me unfit for my son."

"I deem you unfit for all your children."

Father's face remained impassive, but Damian knew him well enough to see the displeasure rolling off his body in waves. "I try my best for my children."

"Not nearly enough." Uncle Daniel reached for the papers, flipping through the handwritten notes to a page, taking on three lines. When Damian leaned over to read, Uncle Daniel's hand shot out and he pushed his head away.

"No, Little One. These are your sibling's personal files. You can not read them." It's mostly because he respects his uncle greatly that he did not throw a fit for being excluded from the conversation. And the fact that his uncle switched over to their native tongue.

It had been startling to realize how much he missed hearing his language. And how warm it made him feel to use it here in Gotham.

Father pulled the paperwork to him. His blue eyes rapidly moved over the words before he flipped to the next page, the next, and the next. Each time, his actions became more frantic until he reached the end.

Then he just stared at the audit his uncle had written with a strange blank look in his eyes. Damian felt very unnerved.

"Damian, go wait in your room," Father said softly, gaze still not lifting from the report.

"What? Father-"

"Now, Damian."

The boy turned to his uncle for help, but the other man merely smiled. "It's alright, Little One. Your father and I will settle this."

It was ludicrous to remove him from the room to discuss his future. Still, Damian knew he would not be able to convince the two most important men in his life of this, and while Uncle Daniel was a pacifist, it didn't mean he was weak in any way.

He would have Damian removed, and walking out with dignity was better. The young ninja huffed, strutting out of the room, down the hall, and up the main stairway to his bedroom. He ignored the various Wayne-adopted dolts that were trying to eavesdrop on the conversation.

None of them had learned that if Uncle Daniel did not want anyone hearing his conversations, then no one would hear a thing. This was one of the many mysteries surrounding Uncle Daniel.

No one in the current League of Assiaians knew much about the First Son, mainly because no one had lived as long as he and Grandfather, but they all knew he had extraordinary powers.

Drake is a fool who thinks he can record all of Uncle's abilities when he hasn't even scraped the suffering of everything Uncle Daniel could do.

And he never will. A nasty voice whispers in his mind. Damian opens his bedroom door, taking one final look around, trying to fight off the wave of sadness. He can not say his stay here had been easy, but he had grown attached to his life at Wayne Manor.

It's a foolish attachment. It didn't matter.

He had failed the audit, and Uncle Daniel would have him moved. Damian's eyes burned slightly, making him blink rapidly as he began packing his room.

He had been able to adjust to the sudden move from the league to Gotham; Damian could do it again. He was halfway done getting everything of value stored in his suitcases when his Father appeared at his door.

"Damian? What are you doing?" The man's voice sounds crushed, and Damian refuses to meet his gaze. He needs to leave through the Wayne Manor doors with his dignity.

"I am sure it's quite clear what I am doing, Father." He says, folding his shirts in the military style Pennyworth had shown him. It saved the most space, and the idea that he will never learn more little tricks from the age bullet makes the burn in his eyes stronger.

A few traitorous tears fall, landing on his blue-gry shirt and turning a few spots into a dark blue.

"I won't let him take you," Father promises, strutting towards Damian and hugging him. The child stiffens at once before more tears silently fall down his face.

"You can not stop Uncle. He can take all of us away."

"I know," Father admits. "That's why I have agreed to his terms."

"Terms?"

"Mr. Wayne and I have agreed on a trial period. He will go to therapy to improve his behavior and communication skills with his children. I will be living here and monitoring the progress. It will be one year." Uncle Daniel says suddenly, right next to their hug, his cold arms warping around Damian and overlapping Father's.

Father's face was spammed at the contact, but Damian had never felt so warm or protected.

He sinks into the hug, watching Uncle Daniel's warm, soft gaze stare down at him. Then, his gaze hardens into disgust as Father leans on Damian's hair. Uncle Daniel quickly leans onto the other side of Damian's skull, trying to comfort him.

Relief crashes into Damian. The audit was not over; he still had a year to prove to Uncle that he should live here with Father. He will not be moved.

But it will take a miracle for his father to change that drastically. His uncle would remove him unless Damian could show him that there was something here worth staying for.

He needed a plan, a goal, an appeal to Uncle Daniel's more gentle, idealistic views. But what? He could try to become more brotherly with his adoptive siblings. That could buy him a few more months.

I need something more. Something more binding. Damian thinks, pressing his face into the two men's arms. He does not need comfort like a child, but being held like this is.... pleasant.

"Oh! Family Group Hug!" Richard screams from the hallway before the man is sprinting into the room. Father makes a face but Uncle Daniel opens the hug, leaving a gap for Richard.

The man barrels in with a shout of glee, squeezing the three almost desperately. Damian would make a face, but he understands just how great Uncle Daniel's hugs can be, and added to the fact Father is not one to show displays of affection, this is Richard's best chance to-.

Wait.

That's it! Uncle's one weakness is being there for children who need him. Damian realizes, a plan forming in his mind, as Brown, Drake, and Cain run into the room. They pause at the sight before all three are invited into Uncle's hug. Brown leaps in for her hug, and Cain hesitantly approaches while Drake stays safely away, eyeing the group with distaste.

Uncle Daniel locks eyes with the teenager by the door, offering a sad smile, and Damian can see that he genuinely wants Drake in this hug but will not force him.

He respects Drake's boundaries because, to Uncle Daniel, adoption means family. He considers Drake to be Damian's brother, so he would treat him with the same care and love as he does for Damian.

Usually, that would bother him greatly, but Damian is too proud of himself for thinking of such a great plan.

There was no way Father would change enough in one year to satisfy Uncle into thinking he was a good fit for raising children. That's fine.

All Damian had to do in that year was convince Uncle to stay at Wayne Manor to do the child-raising himself. This way Damian could remain in Gotham, no matter the audit's results.

How does one trap a man in child-raising when none of the children are his biological? Simple. They get them married to someone with children, and Father just so happens to be without a paramour.

Damian has to get two men to fall in love in one year. It should be simple. With Uncle Daniel's protective core and Father's determination to save Gotham, there may be enough common ground between them to spark romance!

"I love you guys!" Richard crows, squeezing everyone he can reach.

"Hn," Father grunts, while Brown and Cain both inform Richard they care for him as well. Damian softly mutters, "I care for you too," which is much better than Father's.

Uncle's snaps.

"Your son said he loves you, but you don't even respond? You are a brute, Mr. Wayne."

"And you are a leech." Father hisses.

Damian winces. This will take a lot of work. Good thing he's never cowered from a challenge.

#dcxdpdabbles #dcxdp crossover #the audit #Part 2 #Damian failed the original audit #Danny found problems with all the Wayne kids #Bruce and Danny do not get allow #Too bad Damian is going to Parent Trap them #One year to change Danny's mind #Tim has issues with the Al Ghuls so he don't trust Danny #Everyone else got used to him some what #They can't keep him out

[bg-brainrot]

More than Vampiric Charms (Astarion x Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: After some banter between Astarion and Jaheira goes too far, you (Tav) take some time to remind Astarion that he is so much more than a pair of fangs.

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3, Astarion is Bad at Feelings, Blood, Blood Drunk, blood as a coping mechanism

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted for this banter in my last poll! This was a fun one c:

Word count: ~3.2k

Walking through the streets of Baldur's Gate is always an adventure with your group– a particularly fraught adventure on this day, as Jaheira and Astarion seem hellsbent on trading barbs.

It had started out playfully enough, with a snide remark from Astarion, "Oh that building used to be a delightful little sweets shop about a hundred years ago. Though I suppose the crone would remember that, wouldn’t she?”

Jaheira, used to remarks about her age, often being the one to start them, was ready with a quick quip back, “Was that before or after your hair turned gray? With my old age, I can never remember.”

Astarion visibility bit back a remark about this being his natural hair color when you glared back at both of them. “Could we focus a bit please? You two can reminisce after we’ve seen to this latest bloody basement.”

One trail of blood, a disgusting array of corpses, and a piece of clown later and the two of them were at it again.

“Jaheira,” Astarion had started in a light tone– a clear indicator that he had no intent to focus. “Have you considered taking on the role of Dribbles the clown yourself? The makeup might help cover all those pesky wrinkles.”

The druid had snickered, appreciating the comment, and shot back, “I think you would be better suited to the role, given you are already a fool.”

That time, Karlach had interrupted, “Don’t either of you dare! No one could replace this Baldurian hero.”

“Which is exactly why we’re helping to piece him back together,” you’d confirmed with a nod. “Besides, you’re both cranky enough to make the children weep.”

“Darling!” Astarion had gasped, an offended hand on his chest. “How could you say that about me?”

You’d ignored his question, instead choosing to deposit a quick kiss on his pursed lips. A soft, effective bandaid that left the man with crossed arms and a reluctant smile. 

Moments later, you were ushering the group out of the building and into the city. Insults forgotten, everyone began trudging the familiar path back to the Elfsong to clean up.

Now, along this very path, you hear Jaheira strike up a new conversation with Astarion– one that has your ears perking up, even as you continue to lead the way ahead.

“It seems that you and our leader are closer than ever,” the woman observes, a smile in her voice.

There’s a moment of silence, and you can practically see Astarion’s suspicious expression in your mind’s eye as he assesses the situation. “Yes, you could say that,” he finally replies. “What can I say? I am, after all, quite charming.”

“I am glad it is your non-vampiric charms our friend has fallen for, Astarion.” A short, thoughtful pause follows before she asks, “It is, isn’t it?”

“Of course,” Astarion responds, his voice reaching a comically high pitch– one that almost makes you laugh. You want to hear this conversation more than most though, so not a sound escapes your lips. The vampire scoffs before he continues. "Is it so unbelievable that they would simply like me?"

There’s a clear hesitation as Astarion’s words hang in the air.

You wonder why Jaheira isn’t responding, what her expression must be– but before you can turn around to find out more, Astarion is speaking again.

“If you insist on prying,” he starts, clearing his throat a bit pointedly. “Perhaps you’d care to join us. And see how much we enjoy one another.”

The insinuation in his tone is almost enough to have you spinning around– teasing Karlach or Shadowheart is one thing, but Jaheira? Gods, you can feel the heat rising up your neck– “Why?” Jaheira snaps back. “Do you require some instruction on how the deed is done?”

“I’m sure even I could learn some new tricks from an old veteran such as yourself,” Astarion replies, mirth shining through in his tone.

Wait, is he actually inviting her?

You know you need to stop this conversation before it mortifies you any further. “Stop it, both of you!” you say, turning your head back, trying your best to keep a stern, not-at-all embarrassed expression on your face. “We don’t need the next installment of ‘Love at First Knife’ getting any more convoluted.”

There’s some grumbling from Astarion, an amused smile from Jaheira, and a chortle from Karlach, but otherwise your group makes it back to the Elfsong without tearing each other– or their clothes– apart.

__

That evening, Astarion slips away.

It’s not an unusual occurrence– some days his hunger is harder to ignore than others, on some you hadn’t found nearly enough evil to suck dry. Ultimately, he never wanted to take too much blood from you, so he chooses to forage as he has taken to calling it.

As a result, you think nothing of it at first, settling into bed after dinner with a book propped between your hands. After all, Cazador is dead, and Astarion is more than capable of taking down some of the most fearsome enemies in the city– he should take all the time he needs to himself.

But the hours pass, and Astarion has yet to return. The candles around you begin to dwindle, words begin to swim on a page you haven’t turned in quite some time, and sleep slowly but surely starts to drag your eyelids down.

It has almost claimed you when the door to your shared room at the Elfsong slams shut. You hear groans from around the room as those who were similarly drifting off to bed are shocked awake, everyone expecting yet another unwelcome visitor. You almost don’t have time to react before an armor-clad vampire lands atop of you.

You do react though, instinctively striking at the man with the spine of your book, a loud ‘thwack’ letting you know that your contact was true.

“Oof,” Astarion mutters, now fully splayed across your torso like a stretching cat. “Darling, must you be so violent?”

“Astarion?” you ask, putting down your book, shaking off the beginning throes of sleep as you realize what’s transpired. “Weapons down everyone, it’s Astarion.”

After a few affirmative grumbles from around the room, you turn your attention back to the vampire, “Are you alright? Did you get injured?”

“Mmm,” he murmurs, burying his face in your blanket, and rubbing at the spot where you’d hit him. “Nothing's the matter. Everything is perfectly dandy.”

His words slur though and something seems to be amiss. His movements are fluid, his body weight is completely and utterly relaxed onto you.

Almost as if…

“Are you… drunk?” you haven’t seen him like this since the bear he drank near the grove. When you’d asked him the question then, he’d shrugged it off– but it was certainly the closest to drunk you’d ever seen him.

“Not strictly speaking, no…” he drolls, tilting his head slightly to stare at you with one eye. His cheeks are flushed, a telltale sign of his recent feeding, and his eye is glazed over, its blissful sheen telling you all that you need to know.

“Have a good dinner, did you?” you ask, smiling down at him wearily. You can hardly fault him for indulging, especially after the couple of weeks you’ve had.

He chuckles, his one visible eye crinkling a bit. “Oh yes. A rather large bugbear. Hardly knew what bit him.”

You run a hand through Astarion’s hair, and respond, “Well done, my sweet, bloodthirsty vampire.”

Normally, such sweet words of unabashed ​​flattery would elicit a smile, a laugh, maybe even a kiss– but tonight Astarion freezes under your touch, his eye going wide before he tucks his face back into the bedding.

“Astarion?” you ask, your previous worry about injury now promptly replaced by a worry of a much deeper hurt.

“It’s nothing,” he mutters, voice sounding distant.

You scratch at his scalp, a bit, trying to encourage him back toward you. “Love, you know you’re a terrible liar. What’s wrong?”

He gives a soft, annoyed huff– an endearing, drunken noise were it not for the fact that he seems determined not to look at you. And continue to crush you with the full weight of his body.

“Astarion,” you say again, with a bit more emphasis, shaking his head a little with your next scratch. “If nothing is truly wrong, I will wake up Karlach. You know she would love to see you in this state.” As if to punctuate your point, a snore sounds from a few beds over, where you know the barbarian slumbers.

“Please don’t,” he murmurs, finally turning around to look at you fully.

You’re surprised to see his eyebrows furrowed, his lips turned down in a truly melancholy frown– always an expressive man, it seems that Astarion’s intoxicated demeanor is twice as exaggerated. Cute, you think. But also concerning. “Love,” you whisper, running a hand along his face. “Talk to me.”

Astarion hesitates, his watery eyes wincing as he debates his next words. Those same red eyes show an unexpected amount of vulnerability– all that bugbear blood is keeping his expression open, his entire face a rosy hue. His mouth opens, closes, his body shifts, and he fumbles with the latches on his armor as he thinks. You simply lay there, playing with his curls until he’s ready.

When he finally speaks, his words take you by surprise.

“You don’t just like me because I’m a vampire… do you?”

“What?” you ask, eyebrows raising in disbelief. Surely, you misheard him.

“You know,” he continues, waving a hand about the air. “My vampiric charms. The fangs. The blood sucking. The mysterious allure?”

“Why in the nine hells would you think that?” You reach a hand out to grab his, tugging on it gently to try to get him to sit up.

Astarion’s eyes drift away from you, but he does sit up, legs draping over your stomach. “Just… because of something Jaheira said.”

Oh. The conversation you’d been eavesdropping on.

“Do you mean what she said earlier? On our way back to the Elfsong?” you ask, narrowing your eyes at him.

“Well, yes,” he mutters, still not looking at you. “Though I can’t help but notice you haven’t answered my question…”

“Astarion,” you start, releasing his hand, only to place it on the slightly flushed skin of his cheek. “No, I do not only like you because you’re a vampire.” Your words are firm, leaving no room for misinterpretation.

His eyes meet yours again, and still you can see so much doubt, so much unmitigated fear. “Are you certain? You truly do seem to enjoy it when I bite you.”

“Well, that’s true,” you admit with a small wince. It does feel rather… good when he bites you, it would be a lie to say otherwise and, besides, you’ve told him as much before. “But that’s not why I like you, you fool.”

Astarion’s bottom lip slips into a small pout and he moves away from your hand. “You’re not very convincing, you know? Especially when you call me a fool.”

You scooch out a bit from under him, leaving your legs under his. With all of the severity in the world, you reply, “If it makes you feel better, I’m a fool too.”

“You are?” he asks, curious despite himself– easily falling for your little trap.

“A fool for you.”

The noise that escapes him is half groan, half chuckle, and his mouth pulls into a lopsided little smile that you’re not certain you would have earned were he not a bit blooddrunk. “Gods, how the hells did I fall for you?”

“Now you’re asking the right questions,” you respond with a smirk on your face. When you place a hand on his knee, the smirk turns into a small smile. “But I’m being genuine– I don’t like you because you’re a vampire. And before you ask, I don’t love you because of your vampirism either.”

He gives a small huff. “Well, Jaheira made it sound as if there wasn’t much else to care for.” An uncharacteristic admittance from him– normally he would brush off such a statement with a proud declaration of how phenomenal he is. But it seems that Jaheira’s words cut deep– and that blood has loosened his lips.

“Jaheira, despite all of her many, many years of experience–” you enjoy the full laugh that elicits. “simply doesn’t have my refined taste. There are so many reasons to like you, love. In fact, vampirism doesn’t even make the list.”

“Oh, you’re keeping track, are you?” he asks, folding his arms and body over his legs and smiling up at you.

“Maybe,” you murmur, leaning forward toward him. “Would you like a sampling of reasons?”

The look he gives you then is hopeful, but more than a little dread slips through in his shining red eyes. When he answers, his voice is barely above a whisper. “Only if you mean them.”

This withdrawn, unsure Astarion isn’t a common sight to you, but, like every other facet of the man before you, he’s no less lovable. So you lean forward, placing a kiss on his pale forehead, and say, “I mean them with my whole heart.”

“Then… I suppose I ought to be lavished with them," he murmurs, and you spot the blush intensifying over his cheeks, now also coloring his ears.

Coupled with his fluid, inebriated state, his heart laid bare before you, you want to scream the reasons from the roof of the Elfsong, if only for him to believe you. But, as it is, the soft snores of your companions keep your voice hushed, your face close to his as you begin.

“Let’s see… should I start with the first thing that stood out to me?”

He hums in agreement, and closes his eyes, as if preparing to listen to the sweetest tune known to the entirety of Faerun.

“Well, it started with your first lie, I think,” you start.

Astarion gives a disapproving groan, but doesn’t open his eyes.

“My dear, you said you said you had a ‘brain thing’ cornered– I hope you know the smile on my face wasn’t from confidence,” you say with a new, fond smile at the memory. “I just knew from that moment on, you didn’t much care for what others thought of you, as long as your goals were met. A kindred spirit. Or so you said that day.”

At that, he reopens his eyes. “That’s not true.”

“We’re not kindred spirits?” you ask, an unexpected tinge of hurt blooming in your chest.

“That’s true,” he says, balming the hurt quickly. “It’s not true that I don’t care what others think of me. I do. Well, maybe not everyone.” His eyes dart toward Gale’s bed and you stifle a snicker. “But I certainly care what you think of me.”

You look into his crimson eyes, a bit clearer now than when you began talking– the blood seems to be working its way through his system. His words come from a place of honesty, not a lack of inhibition.

“Then, let me assure you here and now,” you murmur, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips. “I think–” Another quick peck on his lips. “you’re the funniest–” A kiss to his nose. “the most deft–” A brush of lips against his temple. “creative, endearing, brave–” Each word comes with a kiss along his jaw. “man I’ve ever met.”

Astarion’s eyes look at you, his face still for a moment as he considers your words. When he finally speaks, it’s a quiet, choked up question, “Oh, is that it?”

“Would you like me to keep going?” you ask, lips perched just above his eyebrow, ready for another round.

He shakes his head ever so slightly. “No– no need or you’ll be here all night, surely,” he says, posturing as best as he can while still looking at you with fearful eyes. Almost as if your candid praise is simply too much for him to bear.

It may be too much, and you’re not one to push it.

“Very well,” you say, pulling back. “But I didn’t even get to how good you look covered in blood…”

The man gives a light laugh at that, some of his nerves melting before praise he understands– his appearance is a source of comfort, one that brings him back to himself. “Oooh yes, I do look dashing in red, don’t I?” he purrs, a content smile forming on his face.

“That you do,” you assure, with your own warm look. You wish he would accept all praise this easily, but you suppose this is all you can do for now.

So little of what matters to you is his vampirism, his looks… but for a man like Astarion, for whom a kind word felt like a double-edged blade for two centuries? Well, you’re reminded that regardless of how many times you may tell him, whether now when he’s a bit fuzzy around the edges or when you’re in your cups, he may never truly believe you.

No matter, you suppose. I’ll simply keep finding new ways to show him how much I care for him…

“So Jaheira was kidding, right?” Astarion asks, sitting up and finally beginning to remove his leathers.

You nod, moving to help him remove his greaves. “Naturally. I thought you’d been enjoying the conversation, actually.”

“I had been,” he replies, thoughtfully. “But the more I remembered how sinfully you shiver under my fangs…”

He’s dodging before you can so much as flick his ear. “Excuse you. Is that any way to treat your most reliable source of sustenance?”

Astarion smirks as he leans away from you in the bed. “Oh darling, it’s nothing to be ashamed of. After all, you can’t help it.”

“Astarion–”

“Ehem!” You hear from somewhere behind you. It’s followed shortly by Shadowheart’s annoyed voice, “Would the two of you please keep it down? Some of us are trying to rest.”

If by ‘rest’ she means ‘reach the end of her copper novel’, then you suppose she’s right. Either way, you whisper back, “Sorry, I was defending my dignity.”

“What dignity?” she murmurs back. “And in case you’re wondering, you’re both utter fools.”

Oh great, she’d heard everything.

“Shadowheart, were you eavesdropping?” Astarion asks, crawling over you to glare at her from the edge of your bed. He’s half-dressed and still somewhat out of sorts, so you just lean back against the pillows and accept your fate.

“Is it really eavesdropping if I can hear it all clearly?” the cleric says, and you hear her book snap shut. “Besides, Astarion, if you really needed someone to reassure you, you should have asked me.”

“You?” he asks, incredulously. “And why should I ask you?”

“Because,” she starts, and you can hear her wicked smile in her tone. “I can confirm without a shadow of a doubt that there’s no such thing as ‘vampiric charm.’ I’ve never felt less charmed in my entire life.”

You can sense Astarion is just about ready to light Shadowheart’s hair on fire, so you tug him back down from the divide. “Thank you for that clarification, Shadowheart,” you call, biting back a laugh. “And I’m starting to realize none of us really have private conversations, do we?”

“No, we do not,” you hear Gale reply from a few beds away.

With that, Astarion gives an exasperated sigh and the two of you finish removing his armor in silence.  When you’re both finally ready for bed and you whisper to him, “Goodnight.” Shadowheart, Gale, and Wyll all respond, “Goodnight!”

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion is bad at feelings #tadfools tomfoolery #astarion comfort #spawn astarion