PhantomHydra
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Daniil's crying outside the theatre.
Daniil's mouthing down Artemy's stomach.
Daniil's leveling his revolver at his assailant.
Daniil's pulling the torniquet with his teeth.
Daniil's kissing the barrel of his derringer.Bookmarked by PhantomHydra
06 Jun 2026
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He brushes a dark lock hair out of Daniil's eyes, like he had done it a hundred times before. Like all this time they hadn't been trading insults, then bruises, now spit.
"Are you taking me home, Burakh?" His lids are heavy, eyes hazy.
"Do you want me to?"
Bookmarked by PhantomHydra
06 Jun 2026
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There was silence. Neither of them said anything, they didn’t even move.
Gale regarded him with wide eyes, seemingly taking his features in anew. Then, he scoffed, straightening up to sit on his bedroll. “Of course. I can’t believe I didn’t see it.”
No fucking way. He was not being this arrogant, this insufferable, in this moment. Astarion must’ve misheard him, only he knew he hadn’t.
“You think yourself that smart, Gale?” he asked with narrow eyes, face twisting with distaste.
“Yes, in fact I do.” Gale replied, his tone returning all of Astarion’s hostility. “I am a studied wizard after all. I’ve read all about your kind, assuming you are merely a spawn.”
“Merely.” Astarion repeated. He kept quiet for a while, attempting to discern what Gale was going to do. He discreetly wrapped his hand around the dagger he hid in the hem of his pants, just in case.
The wizard seemed to be lost in thought for a while. Eventually he looked up at Astarion, his eyes twinkling in the moonlight. “Did you plan to kill me?”
“What?” Astarion choked on the word.
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Bookmarked by PhantomHydra
06 Apr 2026
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“You have to kiss Gale,” Shadowheart tells Halsin, glittering with mischief. “It’s the rules.”
Shadowheart and Astarion start a game. It escalates quickly.
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Bookmarked by PhantomHydra
06 Apr 2026
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Per their arrangement, she puts herself back together and gathers her things, leaving her seat in perfect order, and – after sliding them slowly down her bare legs, looking up to ensure he’s watching – makes her way to him to deliver his souvenir of choice.
“A pleasure as always, Professor,” she says with deliberate coolness, dropping the wad of still-warm, damp lace unceremoniously onto his desk. “See you in class on Friday.”
Wednesdays are his favorite days of the week.
now with chapter 3: cuck chair raphael, his Ultimate Form
Bookmarked by PhantomHydra
25 Sep 2025