#but importantly

[spinshiki]

Dun worry Ms. Bodyguard here for the rescue 🕶️

Im team babygirl Rafayel 🙋‍♀️🗣️🗣️🗣️

And Im dancing becase Infold still keep the scene 💃💃💃

[makesometime]

Ok zo...Zo. I need a fic where Wilde meets Astarion. Even if it's for kinktobter I'll still read it. I need the pretty dramatic white haired boys to meet.

Just for you Yami - it’s not a full story but I hope it suits what you were looking for! (suits is a pun, as you will see shortly)

--

The door to the tailors opens with a creak, a slow sort of intrusion that Oscar should know better than to think is his husband. But he turns anyway, always delighted to see the dwarf that has precious little interest in fashion but an oddly boundless patience for indulging his own.

“Darling, there you are, come on in.”

Instead of a short, white haired dwarf, however, there stands a tall, white haired elf, dressed fashionably enough that he doesn’t look particularly out of place here.

Except for the fact that this was a private appointment.

“Darling?” The man smiles. “What a lovely welcome.”

“Unintentional, I’m afraid.” Oscar murmurs, stepping down from the little podium. It doesn’t escape his notice that the man casts no reflection. “I was expecting someone else.”

The elf sniffs, walking across to a display of fabric bolts to run his fingers over the softness of each in turn. There’s a dagger at his belt, and Oscar doesn’t doubt that he knows how to use it.

“A shame.” The man smiles, but doesn’t look at him. “I thought I might have stumbled across an innocent beauty.”

“Only one of those is true, nowadays.” Oscar retorts. He thinks he’s hiding his annoyance well, but perhaps it’s a little too good a job if the man isn’t hurrying off in search of easier prey.

The man turns. Shoots him a winning smile, the sort that might have worked on Oscar, ten years ago. “I can tell which, and I have to say that only makes you more compelling.”

The suit that Oscar’s wearing is at least constructed enough for him to move about freely, and he knows it makes him look good. So he takes a few steps closer to the other man, knowing not to get too close, even if he wasn’t obviously a vampire - or a thrall.

“This is a private appointment, though.” He says, lower lip sticking out in a little pout, as if he’s actively disappointed to have to chase the man away. “So I’m afraid you’ll have to leave Mr….?”

“You can call me Astarion.” He replies. “In fact, I’d like it quite a lot if you did.”

“Astarion, of course. A lovely name. It suits you.” Oscar smiles, hand resting on the opposite end of the bolt of fine velvet that Astarion was drawn to. “Yet you don’t appear to be leaving.”

Astarion looks around, a cunning attempt at making sure that the shop owner isn’t present. No doubt, it’s also a chance to listen to footsteps from the street, to see if Oscar’s telling the truth. 

“Oh I don’t, do I? How silly of me. I find myself… distracted.”

Oscar’s lips purse, momentarily. “Yes, I can tell. But you're not the one paying a sizeable amount of gold for the singular attention of a talented artisan.”

“Surely it can’t hurt to share a little moment of your time? This is clearly a place of high repute.”

“It is.” Oscar says. “And it will remain that way, once it stops playing host to a vampire.”

Astarion gasps, a dramatic little motion of his hand to his chest making Oscar smile. Perhaps they are more alike than he is ready to recognise right now.

“You wound me, sir.” 

Oscar’s smile widens as the door to the tailors opens once more, and in walks his beloved. He takes one look at Astarion and rolls his eyes, wandering over to the waiting area without even greeting Oscar. He must have had a terrible time at the butchers.

“That was, I’m afraid, my intention. Now if you’ll be so kind?”

Astarion loiters long enough for Zolf to take notice, and he wanders over to hook an arm around Oscar’s waist, shooting Astarion the filthiest look Oscar’s seen him wear in a long while.

“Get the fuck out, won’t you?”

Oscar snickers as Astarion’s face falls into neutrality once more, all of his charm gone in an instant. He dips his head in the barest hint of civility, then turns around and heads back out into the city without another look.

“Probably should’ve killed ‘im.” Zolf says, eventually. “What’s a vampire doing in London?”

“In the daytime no less.” Oscar muses. “Ah, well. If we meet him again, perhaps.”

Zolf nods, then takes a step back and looks at Oscar carefully. Eventually, his scowl fades into a little smile, and he pats Oscar’s bum.

“Look lovely in that.”

Oscar grins. “I know, darling. But it means much more to hear it from you.”

[rubinjuwel]

*quietly slides this over to @themarginalartist and @shinyzango*

[smol-dargon]

Friendly reminder that Bean takes no shit from anyone! This is her favorite ambush spot aside from her box fort.

[queen-defender-on-ice]

Me: *runs code --> success!!*

Me: *runs code 5 min later, no changes made --> 10000 different errors*

[martyir]

 lisbon’s   relationship   with   danger   as   being   something   she’s   too   comfortable   with,     too   accepting   of     ...........     being   shot   only   managing   to   exasperate   this     ..............     firmly   stuck   in   the   mindset   that   there   will   always   be   oncoming   trains   and   it’s   useless   to   try   and   avoid   them     ...............     not   careless,     per   se,     but   not   cautious   enough,     too   blasé

[gfries]

im