#mini fic!

✶Pairing: Astarion x female!Durge | Astarion x Ofelia

✶Warnings: MDNI. Implied Loss of Virginity, Blood

✶Word Count: 640

✶Summary: A tale enduring the test of time- of secrets and love and mournful longing. Light and dark. Devout and denied. Woven into their lives like the red string of fate.

I have no idea what possessed me to grind this out, but. I've had She's My Collar on repeat for a week and it's just stuck in my brain. Have my perspective on Astarion's yearning for Ofelia and for a very vague look ahead for the main fic. Unnescessary to read the big one!! But if you'd like more on them, they're in my pinned masterlist! ❤ Thank you for reading!

thank you! 😊❤️

What was the original thought that led to the creation of this character?

Louise was born from general frustration with the sorts of characters comics Jason is stuck interacting with, and those he never does, what felt to me like obvious opportunity forever left by the wayside. I discovered her by her absence. Where are the con artists. Where are the incidental criminals. Where are the battlers down in the dirt with his roots, the regular gotham folk next to whom he is not the charity case but just another guy. Next to whom his heroics aren’t a disappointment but astounding. Where is Louise. 

What is your general favourite thing about the character? What is your least favourite?

I love her sense of humour. I hate her sense of humour. Louise is funny. That means I have to be funny. Why did I do this to myself? 

Bonus question: share any additional thoughts, art, favourite scenes, anything you've been waiting for a chance to ramble about

Alternate Scene be Upon Ye (under the cut)

All that answered her was a small sob and alarm bells started to ring through her mind. Bella combed her fingers through his hair softly, "Lu? You're scaring me, what's wrong?"

He didn't answer her for the longest minute, before sniffling and pulling back, "nothing," Lucas wiped at his eyes, dark lashes stuck together due to the tears, green eyes standing out since they were bloodshot, "just had the worst flu-"

"I know, baby," Bella's frown only deepened. He had texted her about the flu, but that was hardly reason enough to make Lucas cry, "but that's not what's wrong, Luke..."

"I'm fine," his voice shook again, "it was just a lot."

"Okay," she said slowly, realizing he wasn't about to tell her, "come here, give me a hug."

He turned around immediately, causing Bella to fall back on the couch with the hug. She planted a kiss to the top of his head, letting out a sigh, "I know you don't want to talk about it," she kissed his temple, "but do I need to know about it?"

"No," Lucas' voice came out muffled, choked up, "I just want a hug. I messed up, it was on me."

"Okay," feeling a little relieved it wasn't anything serious and trusting he'd tell her, Bella snuggled up more with him, wrapping her legs around him and pressing a kiss to his brow, "whatever it was, I'm on your corner, okay?"

"Even if I messed up?" Luke's voice came out muffled by her neck and Bella let out a scoff, rubbing his back.

"Well, then I might yell at you a little and say you're wrong, but yeah. I'm on your corner even if you messed up," she promised, feeling him let out a sigh, "sickness and health, riches and poverty or whatever it was we promised in italian," she whispered against his hair, causing Luke to let out a snort.

She’d agreed, and the odd trio - a Redoran warrior, a Telvanni master, and an outlander as green to Solstheim as a newborn orc - made their way down the shoreline when an ashstorm brewed up.

Nehemiah watched with amusement and mild horror as the outlander opened their mouth, as if to catch the ash on their tongue.

“Muthsera -” she began, before Neloth clamped a hand over her mouth, a wide grin on his face.

“They have to learn,” he said, his voice a mocking imitation of paternal. “Remember, you were an outlander once, too.”

The outlander began to cough, spitting on the ashen soil. “This isn’t snow!”

Neloth cleared his throat, wiping the smug grin off his face and replacing it with a scowl. “Your observations never cease to amaze me, Dragonborn.” He continued down the shore. “Savior of Tamriel, can’t tell ash from snow...”

Iker slammed the door shut behind him. He had just arrived home after another match at Real Madrid. They had a draw. "Damn goal in the ninety minute" he muttered, as he threw the shoes in the air and walked to the bathroom. He could already see the headlines "Iker Casillas once again shows why he should retire" Yeah. The guilt was HIS.

He got out of the bath, put some shorts and a shirt and jumped in bed. The feeling of sleep seemed so good that his whole body was numb, as if he had died and gone straight to heaven, on a bed of clouds.

And suddenly, the clouds parted and he fell from the sky. The stupid noise had returned. The wall of the apartments were very thin and no way it endorses sound. And as the universe always seemed to conspire against him, Sergio Ramos was his neighbor. He and his damn bed.

The damn thing squeaked like a scared cat, and din't help that Sergio was the most restless creature on the face of the planet. Even in the training, he always did everything faster and not stopped to talk for a second.

Iker just picked up the pillow and pressed against the head. The noise stopped and he smiled with relief. He rolled over, smiled and tried to think of any cheerful thing. But the world is a sad and dark place, so he just thought about sleeping. And slept.

After a few minutes the noise returned. The worst thing was that there was no noise else or anything like conversation. It seemed that it was just to annoy him. When squeaking came again, Iker broke down and got up.

"Enough!"

He passed like a storm down the hallway and the door. Iker knocked hard.

"It's open!" Sergio said from inside. Iker opened the door and marched into Sergio's bedroom.

"Get out" Iker said pointing to the door.

"Iker, what ..." Sergio said sitting on the bed (which produced another squeak)

"GET. OUT. NOW. " Iker yelled, his face blushing. Sergio stood. "Or do you sleep on the floor, or look for another bed. Choose "

"Okay, sir bossing-around" He said, picked up the book he was reading and left. Iker followed.

To his surprise, Sergio left his home and entered the Iker’s, walking into the bedroom and lying in bed.

Iker was too tired to argue, so just snorted and lay in bed too.

"Good night Iker!" Sergio said turning off the lamp and smiling.

"Good night, Sergio" Iker said almost asleep.

Song mentioned is Two Sleepy People, by Hoagy Carmichael, 1938

The crunching of snow under his boots, the empty swirling of air around him. Somehow walking back to the foxhole tonight seemed so much colder. Kiley reached up and clutched the collar of his jacket trying to keep warm, but nothing worked. The wind just blew right through him. 

"How y'holdin up Ha-" He turned to the side, grinning, expecting to see Veda standing there, her strawberry blonde hay hair blowing all in her face. Instead all he saw was empty, cold, nothing. He chewed his lower lip and began walking again, ever more aware of how alone he was then. It was too quiet. The silence was crushing him.

"Well.. Here we are... Out of cigarettes... Holding hands and yawning" He had to sing, something to fill up the air around him, keep the forest from closing in on him. He had to block out all the the things his imagination could create, just lurking in the shadows. Kiley shut his eyes, imagining the night before. Her dainty hand clasped in his. His other at the small of her back.

"Look how late it gets. Two sleepy people by dawn's early light.. And too much in love to say goodnight" Kiley continued singing softly to himself, his drawl low and rough, no one was around to be woken up anyway. Her head was in the crook of his neck just before. Her breath pressed hot against his uniform, seeping into his skin. He was freezing, almost shaking, from all the snow she'd smooshed on his face, the ice that soaked through his clothing, but at the moment he could swear he was hot under the collar.

Another gust of wind whipped away any traces of warmth he'd just found, and it was all he could do to continue truding back to his foxhole where Ludd was probably already asleep, dreaming about Stella or something. He shut his eyes, remembering more. Her hair wasn't really like hay. It was actually kind of soft. Tickled his face when he whispered in her ear. 

"Well, here we are.. Just about the same, Foggy little fella, Drowsy little dame..." Kiley had never really thought of Veda as a dame before. Sure, she was a girl. But she wasn't a dame. Dames were pretty, and flashy, and knew just what to say. Hayhead acted more like Ludd, teasing him all the time, than an actual girl. He couldn't get what Cary had said earlier that night out of his head. Veda was pretty? Naw. Couldn't be true. Maybe only a little.

Kiley kicked a pile of snow out of his way, smirking at the thought that he could have kicked it at her if she'd have been walking with him. She'd grab some snow and throw it at him, or jump on him and shove his face in it. Something awful. That was just how she was. He was grinning like an idiot now. He'd finally gotten back to the foxhole, but instead he just stood outside a moment, humming. It was the last line of the song. She was still swaying in his arms after it had ended. He-

"What are you doing, Fucker? Get in here befo' you get sick or shot," Nathaniel was peeking out of the foxhole now, pissed off. Must have heard him coming.

"Ah'm comin, Ah'm comin," Kiley jumped on down and covered the foxhole again, crawling over to Nate and taking part of the blanket. He sighed, humming a little to himself as he tried getting comfy.

"Whats got you in such a good mood?"

"Nothin in particular.."

Two sleepy people by dawn's early light And too much in love to say goodnight....