#and Shun said that they would work hard to stay together

[we-survive-endlessly]

Oh Nature Space is going to have to catch these hands. Disbanding Xeed???? ALREADY???? The fact that the members didn’t even know it was happening either is disgusting.

[peepeepy]

a lot of people who've watched gravity falls think that stanford is unsympathetic or a bad character, and most of the people who dont think that think stanford is at least selfish and flawed, which i can't really refute, but it always made me feel so awful, and i never realized why until now.

if you look at stanford pines as an allegory for a child with a developmental disability like autism or a "gifted kid", then a lot of the pieces start to fall together.

⚠️spoilers for gravity falls, the website, and maybe a bit of the book of bill⚠️

stanford pines was born with an "extra finger", a symbol for a disability. for a while, everyone thought it was a flaw. he was teased and shunned by his peers,

but then, people began to notice his genius. it even says on thisisnotawebsitedotcom.com, when you enter "sixer" or "stanford", that he has a "hyper-ability", something many people will say about "gifted" autistic people.

as soon as people started to point this out, everything felt like it made sense to ford. as a person who grew up with autism, i can relate to feeling alienated from my peers, and wondering "why? why, in a world made for normal people, was i made wrong?"

that kind of thought can lead to a sort of delusion.. that maybe you were destined for something great. maybe you were different because one day you would use it to change the world. i believe this is the way ford felt when he was approached by bill

bill came to ford and told him everything he'd ever wanted to hear.. that this feeling was real. that he was destined for greatness. that he was better, smarter, more special than the ones who had shunned him.

bill told ford that building the portal would make him a hero, make people finally see him as more than an extra finger. the one problem?

bill was a liar.

he used ford's selfish thoughts to trick him into making a gateway that would end the world. he used the years of mockery, the alienation, the loneliness, and he came to ford when he was alone, trapped, with nowhere to go.

he offered ford the opportunity to get back at a world that was built to knock him down at every turn, a world full of people who would never understand him. he offered to make ford a god.

and ford refused

he refused, even in a world that had done nothing but tear him down, to hurt others just to feel better about himself. he only had a few people who had ever cared for him, and yet, he was willing to destroy his life's work to save everyone who had made him miserable.

remember, he fully intended to stay trapped in the portal for all of eternity. that's why he was so frustrated when stanley brought him back. what we saw as a heroic act from stanley, ford saw as stanley refusing the sacrifice he had made to save him. he didn't thank stanley because nobody thanked him. no one thanked him for his hard work or sacrifice or his years of suffering just to protect stanley.

that, of course, led to this scene, which many people saw as stanford's most frustrating moment.

i think this post sums up really well why stanford, in this dire moment, would choose to insult his brother. because stanley was being selfish, too. stanley refused to help save the world, save his brother, all because ford never said "thank you."

they were both selfish. everyone is. they didn't fight because they were bad people, but because they both saw things from their own perspective. they were each hopelessly lonely without each other, but both too prideful to admit it.

in the end, they make up, and both follow their true dream. not money, not fame, just staying together.

stanford pines is not a bad, unsympathetic character. he is a complex, misdirected, "gifted" child. his only flaw was not seeing that he wasn't alone. his family was right there to support him the whole time.

[writingattemptsxx]

Claws and Fangs; Tentecals and Ink; Together a Deal

Jade was shunned by all and just wanted to curl up and cry, but a weird octopus changed that.

—

The octotrio is fun to write for and imagining what kid them would be like is even better.

—

Tw: Quick mention of blood

—

These halls felt cold. They were probably physically cold. Rock and shell walls underwater in the north couldn’t be warm, but they felt more emotionally cold and intimidating. They were the walls that housed the truly scary things.

Jade had never been the one to go out of his way to talk to people. That was his twin brother, Floyd. He was the one who clung to his parents and didn't want to leave their side. He was in middle school now, so he was at least used to being on his own, even in a crowded school. But, it didn't mean he liked it. Even worse, the ones he was supposed to interact with, to build friendships with, painted him as a monster purely because he existed.

Both he and Floyd were overly familiar with the whispers. “Look at their teeth.” “Their claws will rip you to shreds.” “They can dart after you in seconds. They'll get you before you know it.” “I think one of them looked at me! Am I going to die?”

They even changed their approach depending on which brother they were gossiping about. Floyd, the curious and hyper one, was said to be someone who would chase down any prey and show off his teeth just to mess with it. On the other hand, Jade, the anxious wallflower, was painted as a manipulator who was always scheming in the shadows.

Right now he just wanted to find his brother. Floyd always swam away the second classes were out, finding something new to look at or mess with. Even just yesterday, he darted off to mess with some shells he found. And all of that would be fine if he didn't leave Jade alone with these disguised sharks. He was going to cry if he couldn't find him soon.

“Where are you?” His voice was already wobbling. It wasn't until he turned a bend that he ran into Floyd, literally.

“Hey!” Floyd turned around. “Oh, hi Jade.” After recognizing Jade, he turned back around, paying him absolutely no mind. Instead, he peered back into a random classroom and stayed mostly hidden by the wall. He seemed so interested, which wasn't new, as if he didn't know his very own twin was anxiously scouring the whole school for him. Knowing him, he probably genuinely didn't know any of that.

“What are you looking at?”

“Some kid in here. He looks cool. Usin’ all his arm… limbs? What do you call them again? Whatever. He's using them to look and write at like a hundred things at once!”

Jade followed his example and peered into the room through the gap of an entrance. It was another mer their age. If memory serves, he was in their class going back a few years. He was an octopus merfolk all alone in the room. He was sitting mostly turned away from the door and to a round stone desk. He was inside some sort of pot or cauldron with a lid settled next to it. All his tentacles were just spilling out of the pot bushing themselves writing, just as his hands were.

His hands were leaning a stone slate on the edge of his desk to write on. Each of his tentacles were also scrawling out something on different slates and even some parchments, most of them were on the desk, but some had to be placed on the floor likely to prevent things from getting in the way of each other. He was scratching notes into the stone with hard fish bones as well as using what looked like octopus ink and thin bones to scribble on the parchment.

How did he even get those? The stone slates and fish bones were used often enough underwater, especially in school, but the others were shocking. Ink could be expensive with how hard it was to get usable stuff from anything that made it. Paper and parchment could be even worse with how much work went into making it waterproof and writable.

Jade was studying the unaccompanied mystery until he realized his brother was lazily swimming toward him. “Floyd!” He was trying to keep hidden and quiet as to not draw attention, but he didn't want to be alone again, so he quickly swam after him.

“Where’d you get this?” Floyd suddenly grabbed the ink pot. The octopus jumped back and Jade wanted to die on the spot.

“What?! Give that back!” He reached out with his arms and tentacles only for Floyd to dodge every attempt.

“This stuff’s expensive, so where'd you get it? Did you make it? Octos can do that, right?”

“No?! I bought it. But anyway, it's mine! Give it back!” The octopus sounded like he was fuming. At least if he attacked Floyd, Jade would have time to escape.

Jade tried to sneak around to check the notes. He might not be as adventurous as his brother, but some curiosities screamed to be answered. The second he touched one of the stone tablets, a hand swatted his away. “You too. Stop messing with my stuff!” Instantly being scared off by Mr. Octo, he swam behind his brother.

Now he was staring straight at both of the twins. After getting a better look at him, he had quite an interesting look. He was mostly black except for his chin and up which was an ashen gray. His eyes were a striking blue that looked as if they would scare you away from him alone. His hair was a shining silver coming down to his ears except for one lock on his left side that curled down to his chin. He was round and looked squishy and soft. Even his cheeks were puffy as they kept in black ink-filled tears seconds away from being shed.

“Just give it back! I'm not going to do anything ‘funny’! I'm not your little twerp to mess with!” His voice was shaking and he sounded like he was holding back a gasp for air. As he slid further into his pot, one of his tentacles suckered onto the lid and started to lift it.

“What?”Floyd was probably starting to panic with how he reached back for Jade. It seemed neither of them knew what to do and what he was on about. “I just asked where you got this. I didn't say any of that.”

Octo paused for a second, his eyes just above the entrance. His voice even echoed into the pot. “I know what you're thinking. You aren't unique picking on me.”

“Sevens, ... I'm sorry?… I didn't wanna make you cry…” Floyd lightly put down the ink in front of the pot and started to slowly inch away.

Jade couldn’t help but feel bad as he also inched away. He was going to cry, himself, about a minute ago, and from the sound of his rant, it seemed like they had the same culprit as to why. Both bullies and Floyd.

Jade made it about halfway to the door and Floyd a bit closer to the door, before the hideaway octopus spoke up. “If you weren't here to mess with the ‘octo-twerp’, what were you doing?” His eyes were still just above the pot entrance and he looked like he was going to kill them both with his stare alone. He didn't trust either of them an inch.

“You just looked cool… I'm sorry I messed with you. Didn' want you to cry or anythin’, just… I can leave…”

“I looked cool? I want to know why you stole my ink then. You, yourself, said it was expensive.”

“Yeah. Cool, neat, that stuff. Seeing you write all that at once seemed interesting. I stole it to mess with you, sure, but I just wanted your attention. I planned on givin’ it back.”

Mr. Octo’s eyes marginally softened and he rose from the pot ever so slightly. “Just don't steal my stuff. Who even are you?”

“I’m Floyd.” Floyd swam up to Jade and put his hand on his head. “And this is Jade. He's kinda shy, so he doesn't talk a lot.”

What? How dare Floyd speak for him? With a pout, Jade tried to whack Floyd’s arm away.

The hidden octopus gave a small chuckle as he rose to rest his arms on the pot rim. “I’m Azul.”

—

Jade silently snuck through the halls and right before he turned to the corner to the unused classroom Azul stole to make a study, he flipped the direction of his black hair strand.

Both he and Floyd were almost identical. If you weren't paying attention, you might confuse them, but at least they thought it was obvious who was who. They looked like mirror images of each other. Their bodies had mostly blueish-green skin except for lighter bits on their chest and head and darker bits as their fins and stripes that scattered around their body. They also both had ear-length turquoise hair, sharp facial features, and a long eel body with a tail about two-thirds their total length. Their easiest-to-notice difference was that Floyd had a golden eye and a long black lock of hair on his right while Jade had the same on his left.

He turned right into Azul’s room and snuck behind him. He waited one more moment as the other was distracted with a few pages and stones. With a jump, he covered Azul’s eyes, even tilting his head so his newly placed hair would be felt.

Azul didn't even waste a second before placing his hands over Jade’s. “Hello, Jade.”

Jade gave a pout as he swam to the other side of Azul’s stone desk, lowered himself to eye level, and gave him a very unhappy glare as he fixed his hair.

“Don’t look at me like that, you sore loser. If I was genuinely Floyd, I would have heard him.” The three of them had only been talking for a month or two, yet Azul could read them almost exactly. His eyes still read of distrust, but he never did anything to show that and talked to them pretty well. Even so, Jade had a hard time getting past Azul’s suspicion and hasn't said much, mostly communicating with body movement or through Floyd. What he's said verbally could probably be counted on one hand.

“Where’s Floyd?” Jade gave a small shrug making Azul sigh as he turned his attention back to whatever he was doing before. “If he barges in here shouting or touches my stuff again, I'm going to kick him back out. I need some peace.”

Jade looked over all of his things and noticed that amid his usual marked beige parchments was a mostly clean golden one. It had barely any writing on it and what was there looked intentionally placed, as if there was a pattern he was following. There was even a very slight glow to it. It was placed right in front of him and any added writing was made by a fish skeleton dipped in ink. Jade gave a small point to the new thing.

“This? It's just something I'm working on. I’m-”

“-Guess what!” As predicted Floyd came bursting in shouting. He held up a small red crab, held by a grip on its pincers. “I found something!”

“Floyd! Can you come in here without belting at the top of your lungs?!” Azul put down the skeleton in his hand, folded his arms, and gave the boisterous intruder a grimace.

“It's a crab!” He bolted and stopped right in front of Azul’s face. “Look!��

“I see it?…”

Floyd shook the crab before placing it on the far side of the room. He immediately swam back to them and pointed at it. “Crab! Imma call it…” He paused for a second. “Snappy!”

Jade lazily floated over to his twin and gave a similarly lazy smile. He waited for a second before bringing Floyd a headlock and giving him a noogie with a pointed grin. It earned him noisy protests.

“Look at the ink-spewer and his monster guards!” The trio looked over to see a group of roughly five mers, some from the grade above. They all look like the stereotypical mer. The kind you'd see everywhere. Fish-like tails of various bright colors. Similar colors scattered their hair as well. Even their skin had varied shades from pale peach to a deep brown. The one who specifically spoke had a purple tail and hair with tan skin and freckles littered on his face and shoulders.

If you were to ask a young Jade, there wouldn't have been any difference between them. They looked different, sure, the others even looked different from each other, but they were all mers, but now it was quite obvious. They were the standard and the trio were animalistic monsters with their claws, fangs, tentacles, and ink.

The second Jade loosened his grip on Floyd, Floyd darted to the middle of the room, putting his arms out to cover Jade and Azul. Jade, on the other hand, swam to hide behind the pot with Azul ducking deeper inside it with a tentacle lifting the lid. “Just shut up! We weren't doing anything to you!”

“Aww, not anything? Doesn't that defeat your whole purpose?”

Azul was almost completely hidden by now, the lid was over the top of the pot, but was tilted slightly up so he could just see outside. “Just ignore them, Floyd.”

This time another mer came forward. He had light brown skin, dark blue hair, and a green tail. “Aww does the crybaby wanna curl away in his pot? Are you going to stain it with ink?”

“SHUT UP!” Floyd was mad. His tail flocked from side to side as his shoulders rose up and down with each attempt at a deep breath. Even Jade was starting to get upset. If he didn't think Floyd would snap soon, he might snap himself.

“What? Does it upset you that we call a crybaby a crybaby?” The first met to speak swam up in front of Floyd, intentionally invading his space. With that, a slap came down, hitting him in the face.

“That’s it! You wanna see claws?! You’ll get claws!” Floyd lurched forward and Jade instinctively closed his eyes and Azul closed the lid to his pot.

The next thing he knew was screams and the iron-rich scent of blood diffusing through the water of the room.

—

Both Floyd and Jade got in trouble. Despite Azul specifically saying Floyd’s name, apparently, ‘someone could have been lying and it could have been either one of them’. Jade wasn't even shocked. It's not like he didn't notice even adults looked at his fangs and claws before his eyes.

Luckily, it came to light that they were bullying Azul and it was self-defense, so with the anger of both their and Azul’s parents, they got off with only being suspended for a bit. Jade and Floyd were going to mention they were bullied as well, but the mess was already too big. They already wanted to hide away. They didn't need more attention on them.

Today was finally their first day back after being doted on by their parents. Mom and Dad weren't happy Floyd attacked another, and they certainly weren't happy that Jade got punished for doing nothing, but they were proud that they stood up for someone else and were worried about them being attacked first.

They went back to school expecting it to be mostly normal, except for more fear and rumors around then. That was true, but there was something else that was swirling around too. Gossip that was different from the usual rumors around the eel twins.

The entire day they heard whispers of many people's skills going missing as they gained something else. Someone gaining a girlfriend but losing their smooth voice. Another gaining a smooth voice but losing their speed in the water. Multiple similar events had gossip swirling.

Both Jade and Floyd were discussing the rumors as they were passing by Azul’s room, and before they even looked inside, something wrapped around them and pulled them inside. The next thing Jade knew, they were both in a big hug.

“Are you two ok? Especially you, Floyd?”

“Wha-” Jade was extremely confused. Confused enough to try pulling away to look Azul in the eyes, but he was squashed back into Azul’s chest with double the strength. He tried to mumble something into his chest, but even he could barely understand himself.

“Azul! Too much!” Finally, at Floyd's words, they were both let go, allowing them to take a second to take in some breaths again.

“Sorry…” Azul’s voice was small and he even shrunk back slightly. He had ink-filled tears diffusing into the water around him. “You two got in trouble because of me. I'm so sorry.” He was barely able to sob out his words, gasping for air every other second.

Floyd went up to him and roughly gave Azul’s hair a rub, completely messing it up. “Nah, they were just stupid. Couldn't have done anything to me.”

Azul looked at Jade. He had the same puffy eyes as the first time Jade saw him tear up, but it was missing something. He couldn't find the distrust in his gaze. It made him feel oddly fuzzy. Jade was barely able to utter anything, and even when he did, his voice was still small and barely audible. “I’m fine. I didn't even fight.”

Suddenly Azul’s eyes widened and he took in a gasp. “Oh, right! Jade, you remember that golden paper?” Jade gave a nod. “I finished working on it!” He opened his hands in the space between all of them, and a glowing golden scroll was summoned. “I call it ‘It’s a Deal’! I can trade anything I have or can get, magical or not, for the same with someone else! All we have to do is agree on the terms and have them sign on the bottom line. With this, all three of us can be everything we wanted. I don't have to be a loser crybaby and you don't have to be feared monsters.”

All of that could come from this scroll? They could all have what they wanted? Jade looked back at Azul who looked practically beaming. “Really?” His voice was still small, but it grew with hope as the fuzzy feeling in his heart grew.

“Absolutely! I can give us all exactly what we wanted, all I need is your backup. It may not be easy and we might even need to play into some things, but at the end of it all, we’ll have what we hoped for and more.”

“I’ll do it.” Floyd brought attention back to him as he gave firm words.

“Do what?” Azul looked completely confused scanning Floyd's face for some hint.

“Your deal thingy. I'll do it.”

“You don't have-” Azul paused for a second. He took a deep breath. “No. Let's do it.” The golden page’s glow suddenly got brighter as the words started to rewrite themselves to say exactly what they talked about. In exchange for not attacking Azul or leaving his side for another, they were to be given a share equal to Azul’s and stay his right hands, him never choosing another before them. Once the words stopped two fish skeletons, already ink-dipped, were summoned. One in front of Jade and the other in front of Floyd.

Neither of them wasted a second. They both scrawled out their names on the bottom lines. Floyd Leech. Jade Leech. The skeletons suddenly disappeared and the contract curled up as Azul grabbed it. “It’s a Deal!”

—

“Jade?… Jade!” Azul’s voice shocks him back to the present. “Are you ok? You aren't one to daydream while doing work.”

Looking at the desk in front of him, Azul’s right, he is supposed to be working. The log book for Monstro Lounge is sprawled out on the desk in front of him. To his left is Azul sitting at his mahogany VIP room desk and in front of him is Floyd sleeping and taking up the whole couch. Jade himself was sitting on one of the chairs for the glass table with a marble rim they nicknamed the ‘deal table’.

“Sadly, no, I am not, Azul. I am horribly bored. I might as well just leave. The exam and thus the results are way too far away.” Jade is giving his fake customer service smile, something he knows Azul can see right through. They just made a bunch of deals for students not willing to truthfully attempt the exam, and they need to wait for the results to come back to have their fun with those not able to hold their end of the bargain. Some part of him wonders if any of them will actually succeed, the question is just screaming for him to find the answer.

“You can't walk out! That's a complete violation of your contract! Also, the exam is two days away, with the results about three days later. You can wait.” Azul’s flustered face will never not be funny. It‘s a nice return to who Jade originally met, that emotional octopus. He has been a bit overzealous in his work and contracts recently. He needs to relax a bit.

“If you look back at it, it is not in contract violation. My side of the contract is to not attack you or turn on you for another, not that I have to stay and do grunt work.” With that, Jade earns a small huff from Azul. Who mumbles under his breath before returning to his work and silence with Jade doing the same.

After a few minutes of sulking, Azul looks back up at him. “You two are extremely stressful, you know that.” Azul sighs. “Don't answer. I am well aware you do it on purpose. I swear I might be the next to overblot. There have already been two.”

Hearing that, Jade also looks up, giving Azul an upset glare.

“It was merely a joke. I have enough control to prevent that.”

[porcupine-girl]

I had the weirdest possible Check Please dream.

Ngozi was going to do another volume, and we were all excited because Shippy and Taylor were finally going to get together.

Who tf are Shippy and Taylor you might ask?

Shippy, I immediately realized upon waking up, is Tater, but in this dream world somehow he got a different nickname and I don’t even know how. Idk if my brain was just like “he’s part of this popular ship and I’m lazy” or “Tater and Taylor would sound too cutesy and I really want this girl to be named Taylor for some reason” or what.

Taylor was not Vanessa with a different name. She had spiky lavender hair that looked a bit like this animal crossing hairdo:

But longer, like if it were lying flat it’d be about chin length, and of course in Ngozi’s drawing style.

I didn’t find out much more bc I woke up due to my husband getting up to get ready for work, but somehow when I got back to sleep, for once my brain deigned to continue my dream from before. It is apparently very invested in Shippy/Taylor (although after I woke up and realized Shippy was Tater my brain went back and forth between the two names).

So in the continuation, I learned that Taylor was already dating another member of the Falconers (I’m not sure I ever got his name), but he was very controlling and emotionally abusive and everyone on the team was hoping she’d leave him and kind of shunning the boyfriend socially due to his behavior.

Tater ran into her in like… a mall food court sort of location? And somehow their conversation led to him confessing his feelings but saying that it was fine if she didn’t want to be with him, just begging her to leave the controlling guy and saying he’d help her however he could just as her friend. She was clearly not quite ready to leave yet, but then her boyfriend called and when she said oh I’m at the mall and I ran into Tater so we were just hanging out he got really pissed that she was hanging out with another guy (in a totally public location, and being honest about it) without him and demanded she come home right away. And when she hung up you could see that having that conversation right after the conversation with Tater was kind of making her realize that she really did need to get out of it.

Tater saw that too and jumped on it, like “If you don’t want me to help I’ll call Jack and Bitty (which my brain then corrected to Zimmboni and Little B, it was like my brain was like helloooo this is Tater unlike you Ngozi would write him correctly) right now and they will come help you get your stuff, you can stay in their guest room, they would love to help.” And she was kind of mortified by this, like oh god does the entire team know??? And he was like, well. Yeah. Kinda. Everyone’s rooting for you to leave him, that’s why nobody talks to him or hangs out with him outside practice, we all know how awful he is. And she was like oh god, great, everyone knows how stupid I am for staying with a guy like him, but Tater was like no no no everyone knows how hard it is to leave that kind of thing but we all know you’re strong enough to do it as soon as you decide you’re ready.

And that was about as far as I got in the Shippy/Taylor saga before I woke up for good. I can only assume Jack and Bitty did come get her and let her stay with them, and eventually once she was over the nasty breakup she got together with Tater.

What’s really funny was that when I went to start writing this post I couldn’t remember her name, only that it started with a T and was like 6-ish letters long. I started the post calling her Tricia and was like no that’s not right, so I googled girl names that start with T and was just hoping that if I read enough lists of names something would click and maybe I’d recognize it if I saw it. Then I opened the first list and the very first name was Taylor and I was like OH RIGHT MY BRAIN NAMED HER AFTER TAYLOR FUCKING SWIFT HOW DID I FORGET THAT??

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hey I would like to request a good omens Crowley x reader angsty sad fic where they are pining over him but he loves aziraphale and they don’t want to interfere. Kind of Laufey’s song Let You Break My Heart Again vibes. Thx!!❤️

"Why couldn't I have what THEY had, [y/n]?! Maybe it's...it's all part of God's great ineffable plan! As if fallin' weren't enough...y'know? Why not allow him to walk outta my life and crawl back to the other angelss, too? Keep fuckin' me over, I suppose. This must be karma, I swear.."

"Crowley.." You began, only to stop as the demon on the other end of the line continued his drunken sorrowful ramblings.

He was still clearly hurting, and you were his only company left.

The only one who knew about him and Aziraphale and everything they've done together for the past 6,000 years.

You've been around for a thousand or so, not aligned with Heaven nor Hell, but living as a simple immortal being.

However, only very recently have you learned that they've in fact known each other since the very dawn of Creation.

So their history goes way back.

It's no secret that Crowley's been pining after the angel all these years, forced to pretend he hates him just because he was on the "opposite side".

But he was sick of doing all of that, and finally got the courage to tell him how he really felt. He begged him to stay, to stop taking sides, and to think about just them for once.

In the end, Aziraphale still chose the side that shunned him for conspiring with a demon, halting Armageddon, and hiding Gabriel on Earth...all because he was offered a higher position of power and couldn't so easily let go of Heaven.

Not as easily as Crowley could. He couldn't understand that, or why Gabriel and Beelzebub could go off together and they couldn't.

Now you were here, having to comfort the very same demon that you've fallen in love with yourself.

It felt like such a selfish desire, knowing that you haven't lived nearly as long as either of them. You weren't there at the beginning of Everything. You weren't there at the Garden of Eden.

You could never fully understand their deep-rooted bond.

There's no way he would ever see you in a remotely similar light.

Even still, the heart wants what it wants..even if it's unobtainable.

"Listen, Crowley.." You tried speaking again. "I'm next in line, do you want anything?"

Perhaps that was rather poorly worded, as you heard a sniffle and what sounded like him holding back a sob. "I just want him to come back.." His voice broke.

There was that feeling again, constricting your human heart with pain.

It was such a fickle organ, you often thought. It kept people alive, yet when put through emotional toil..it felt like it was killing them, and they wanted nothing more than to rip it out of their chest to be rid of the pain.

But right in this moment, you felt like that because deep down...you wish he instead said that he wanted-

"W-Wait..you're..at that café 'cross the bookshop, right?" You heard Crowley mumble. "I'll get the usual..assuming she remembers. Actually...don't bother-"

"It's fine, Crow. It'll be my treat. I'm getting something, too...not that we actually need it. But we both enjoy it, right?"

"...right." He chuckled depressingly. "Fine. I'll be outside."

That was a surprise, although when you briefly glanced outside the window of Give Me Coffee or Give Me Death, you noticed the Bentley parked next to the sidewalk. You sighed, hanging up the phone before you stepped up to the register, smiling at Nina.

"Hello, Nina. I'll have my usual..and Mr. Crowley's, too. Six espresso shots, was it? And one of those [favorite flavor] pies, pretty please." You pointed to the menu.

"On it." She nodded, already getting to work on your order. "You know, I haven't seen that chap around in a while. How's he holding up? I heard he took it pretty hard."

"Yeah." You muttered, recalling how you've talked to her about your own feelings for Crowley.

You weren't expecting a human to solve the relationship woes of immortal beings when she herself was going through her own issues.

She worried that her and Maggie's little "intervention" caused the demon and angel to split up, but you didn't blame her. And neither did Crowley, although he was torn between wishing he didn't kiss Aziraphale and wondering if he'd regret not doing that at all.

He hasn't been back at the coffee shop since.

"Well, do you plan to tell him anytime soon?"

You nearly choked on your own spit. "N-Nina...I..I can't just do that. He clearly doesn't see me that way. He talks about him every day and night. I've stayed up past midnight consoling him, letting him stay with me the moment I learned he's sleeping outta his car. But...it's him he loves, not me. And I can't interfere with that..it would be wrong."

"Then...what's your plan from here?" She asked with a raised eyebrow.

"..I'm not sure anymore. I guess hope that one day..I'll stop falling in love with him. Maybe his angel will come back and everything will be as it was."

"Sounds like wishful thinking at this point, but I'm sure things will work out. Maybe he'll move on."

"I doubt it, but time will tell."

"Right." After finishing the drinks, she set them down into a cupholder, before giving you the pie as well. You paid and bid her farewell before heading out of the café and to the Bentley.

Inside, you saw Crowley sulking, lost in thought until you knocked on the passenger's window. He sat up with a start, fixing his glasses when he realized it was you. "S-Sorry."

The door opened, and you slid inside, passing him the tall cup with tons of espresso shots. "It's okay. So..where did you wanna go today?"

"I was thinkin'..St. James Park. Feel like I've been neglecting the ducks for far too long."

You blinked. 'Wasn't that..his and Aziraphale's thing-?'

"Yeah, I know..it...was our thing." He responded as though he read your mind. "'s just..been so lonely without him to chatter to. I hate siting all alone on that bench. But it's not like I can just walk Upstairs and tell him to screw all of them, right?"

"Sadly..no." Shaking your head, you glanced over your shoulder at the plants he's shoved into his backseat. Closest to you was a venus fly trap that had spots and other flaws, looking rather frail and wilted and sad.

Not too different from how its owner felt.

You smiled sadly and stroked the top of its head with your thumb, feeling it cease its trembles. Its mouth closed as it seemed to...purr?

How cute.

"Well would ya look at that...ya even treat the bloody things the same as he did.."

You tensed, looking back to Crowley and frowning upon seeing the tears sliding down his cheeks. But he was quick to wipe them away once you noticed them, yet a sniffle still managed to escape him.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to keep doing stuff that reminds you of him.." You set a hand on his back. "Do you...want me to drive?"

"No, it's fine.." He shook his head, sniffling loudly one last time before he managed to pull himself together. "Let's just..go."

You nodded, taking a sip of your coffee and a small bite of your pie, before you reached for the radio-

However, you forgot that the Bentley was sentient, instead turning it on for you and playing a song that nearly made you choke once again.

"--All I've had is coffee and leftover pie. It's no wonder why. Ooooh, still you take up all my mind. I don't even think that you care like I do. I should stop, Heaven knows I've tried..."

Even Crowley froze as he listened to the lyrics.

And not because it wasn't a Queen song.

"One day, I will stop falling in love with you."

Neither of you spoke a word, instead staring at the dashboard with looks of sadness upon your faces. You thought he would've changed the song by now, but...when you looked over, you could see his glasses now resting on the bridge of his nose.

His golden irises have almost completely taken over the whites of his eyes.

What little you saw of them..

Were growing redder and glossier.

"Some day, someone will like me like I like you."

You felt your own eyes start to sting, too, so you looked away and opted to pet the venus fly trap that was nuzzling your hand, clearly asking for more much-needed affection.

Sentient plants were easy to comfort.

If only your demon friend could be the same way..

If only you could show him that you wished to be more than just friends..but this simply wasn't your place to tell him that.

Not here, not now...and possibly not ever. For as long as you lived on this mortal plane.

All you could hope was that one day, the feeling will pass.

If Aziraphale came back, things might be better. You wished the idiot would at least check in with you both once in a while so you knew he was alive.

If that's the last time you hear from him, well....you weren't sure if Crowley would ever want to try loving again after what he's suffered through. He poured his heart out, only for it to get broken and stomped on before being left all alone on Earth.

He couldn't go through that again.

And you didn't wanna say anything about how you felt for the centuries you've known him. He could very well perceive that as you trying to replace him and ruin this friendship.

The wounds in his heart are still clearly fresh..and they likely will be for a long, long time.

For now, you'll just be by his side and be mindful. Perhaps he'll eventually realize how you felt about him...but you doubt it.

"Until then, I'll drink my coffee, eat my pie. Pretend we are more than friends. Then of course, I'll let you break my heart again-"

Crowley's hand suddenly shot towards the button, the car filling with an abrupt silence as he shut off the music. Then he switched between several Queen songs, eyebrows furrowed as none of them seemed to suit his current mood.

If Queen didn't make him happy anymore...he was seriously in emotional distraught.

But eventually he settled for "Somebody to Love", and you smiled, wiping your eyes as you leaned back in the seat. "Good choice."

He nodded absentmindedly, before finally driving off to the park after adjusting his glasses.

No further words were exchanged. You didn't even scold him for speeding down the tightly-knitted roads of London. That's the last thing he needed right now.

Especially since you picked up that habit from Aziraphale.

But even as Freddie's voice reverberated through the Bentley, you two couldn't stop thinking about the lyrics of Laufey's song and what it meant to both of you.

Yet the people it reminded you of...were completely different.

[nelliama]

Tell me where the hurt is

Aoife Taylor on Pinterest

Pairing: Astarion x FemaleTav Pov: Tav (undescribed) Summary: Astarion and Tav face Cazador and fight him. They had known each other for years before Astarion was brutally assaulted, and Tav lost sight of him. While they defeat the Vampire, Tav remembers their memories together before and after he became a vampire. And at the end of the day, they finally talk about everything... Words: 9,226 Warnings: NSFW part (more tags on the AO3 post, link bellow)

I see you, thirsty b*tches. And Astarion sees you too.

I have written a fanfiction about this dear gentleman right here and would like for you to discover it.

Make sure to read the tags so there are no surprises here. It's a one shot, wrote it in a day and enjoyed every second working over it.

Leave a comment on here or AO3 if you liked it! (you have to be registered on the site to read)

There is a part SFW (acurate from the game) and a part NSFW (invented), will be split with a little something.

IF YOU HAVEN'T FINISHED ASTARION'S OWN QUEST IN THE GAME, THIS PIECE IS A SPOILER.

“Who stands before us? Is this truly our prodigal son?”

Cazador’s sceptre fiercely brandished in front of us, his ornamented dark costume with a red collar and silver chain over his shoulder, pointy ears and teeth, red eyes burning from power and greed, I thought Astarion would simply jump over his throat and slither his neck in a swift and precise cut of his dagger. But as I dared a side look toward him, his face was torn with so many emotions, it broke my heart in little pieces. Rage, sadness, fear, bitterness, determination and hesitation. Two hundred years resolving to this moment. Two hundred years wasted, two hundred years of constant pain, of manipulation, of tricking, of pretending to be someone he’d never been.

Astarion was a noble, was a man of dignity, principles and values. He might have always thought highly of him, imagined himself promised to a future of wealth, power and happiness, these years with Cazador, becoming a vampire, had turned him into an insatiable monster despite what he truly believes in.

I knew him. Before he was changed by that hideous character facing us. We had been friends so fast and aspired to the same yearnings in life. We had spent so much time together it was hard for our families to even imagine us apart from each other. So many had imagined us as a couple, thought of a family, children, marriage, love, and I would have lied if I had said I wasn’t a part of them. But I never dared impose my deepest desire on him, when he had such a grandiloquent vision for himself, even so early in age. Never had he talked about us, or included myself in these schemes - for at least I had not noticed - and I couldn’t bring myself to hear him refuse me, reject me after all these years planning our ascension. So, I had stayed quiet, and had left for my home the night he had been beaten to death by a group of Gur. When I could have implied that I wanted to stay, spend a little more quality time with him, I once more punished my egotistic craving for him and took the door, watching him write his letter with an impeccable execution, with his perfect straight nose, round, full and red lips, his majestic profile I never could have grown bored of.

And that night, he disappeared as the Astarion I knew. I fell so deep into pure desperation that my whole life crumbled. Fled from Baldur’s gate, as every corner, every pub and library we shared opened up the wound and bled for eternity. I thought he was gone, had been declared dead, had a tomb fabricated for him, he had been ripped out of my heart and I couldn’t bear to stay one more minute between the walls of that city. I had learned later on he had been reborn as a vampire, slave, whore, captive.

It took me about a hundred years to forget about him, or at least to shun the ache and sickness I had felt whenever his face unravelled behind my closed lids, or his name floated among the words of my mind for any reason that could have reminded me of him. And another hundred years to start feeling like myself again, seeing other people, let myself imagine I could really live my life without him, without his presence, his haunting scent and voice and smile.

But then everything happened. The mind flayers, the tadpole inside my skull and him, asking me to approach as he could see one of our enemies down below, his back facing me, his hand begging me to come close. His long and dexterous fingers I always had wanted over my skin, calling my body and soul to him. And when he had turned around, when I was finally inches from him, he had lifted his dagger to my throat, froze, his bloody irises riveted on mine, his pointy smile fading ever so slightly, and his other hand grabbing my neck. I had not moved, couldn’t barely breathe. I was seeing a ghost and he was seeing someone from a time he must have forgotten about. Everything he lived was flashing before his eyes and I could see it as vividly as if I had lived them. Lived them through him, lived them as him, the shock and hurt of the process so terrible we had to part from each other, holding our head as though it would explode. This time, we realized he had been infected by the same virus and had decided to pair in order to get rid of it.

“Do not slouch before me, boy! Have you no respect for yourself?” Cazador shouted, his brows frowned but not as strongly as Astarion’s. The latter’s features were shattered by disgust and anger. “Look at you, crawling back after abandoning your family. You should be begging our forgiveness.” The patron continued.

Astarion stayed weirdly silent when I thought he would burst into flames by the mere sound of his torturer’s voice. The days after our reunion had been complicated and awkward, as I had not recognized the man before me and he had not known how to operate after two hundred years acting like a completely different person.

There was the night I understood what he had become. When I had felt his lips and teeth over my neck, and for a second, I thought I was dreaming, imagining a lustful night under his arms, his smooth and creamy skin over mine, his fingers holding my jaw to the side, so the flesh of my neck would be displayed for him. Only the jolt of pain from his bite had woken me up and I had watched him dumbfounded from my bedroll. “Shit…” he had murmured. “No, no, it’s not what it looks like,” he added. “I swear. I wasn’t going to hurt you! I just needed – well, blood.”

My eyes had tripled in size, and I had stayed with my arms along my body, incapable of doing anything besides ogling at him, his canine achingly showing, his irises even bloodier than before, and by the tadpole inside our brains, a swift wind of his hunger burning inside his stomach reverberated inside my own body. In the dim firelight, I had seen the remorse in his face, the desperation, the surprise from his own debauchery, the pain he was about to inflict on me, his best friend, his confidant, his…

“How long has it been since you fed? Days? Hours?” I’d asked, concern flooding inside my veins instead of treason, fear, or any other feeling one could experience in front of a vampire. A second of bewilderment flashed over his features and he straightened his body, dropping his hands. He lifted his chin up in a proud motion, as I had seen him do a hundred times.

“A couple of nights ago. I try to be discreet about it. Whenever I can. But it’s not enough, not if I have to fight. I feel so weak.” He had been angry at this, angry for the condition he had not chosen, but was forced into, a slave for sanguine hunger. Being out of control had always been the one thing he despised. Compassion and devotion crawled beneath my skin and I had been ready to accept even before he had asked. “If I had just a little blood, I could think clearer, fight better. Please.” He added. And that word only had been my undoing.

His downward smile and puppy eyes had pierced my heart for the umpteenth time. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I’d queried. His secrets had been new. Before, we would share anything, even our conquests, and I would never let himself know of my true feelings. We had been like the two sides of a coin.

“At best, I was sure you’d say no,” he answered. “More likely, you’d ram a stake through my ribs.”

“You know I would never do that,” I retorted immediately, hearing him saying something so far from the truth tickling my pride and ego. Had he forgotten all that we lived? Had he forgotten about me?

“I needed you to trust me…”

“I do. I believe you.” I interrupted, as to remind him of who we were before all these years, before what he had lived without me, without his right hand by his side. He could have asked anything, I would have done it.

“Thank you. Do you think you could trust me just a little further?” he simpered with a lusty voice I had never heard from him before. Something out of pure sin, sensual and hypnotizing. Vampires were known for their persuasion capabilities, but Astarion always had the charms, too. And with his new condition, it had been just impossible to refuse him. “I only need a taste. I swear.”

The way he had been imploring me, the fact that I was the only one that could help him, the only one that trusted him enough to offer such a gift to him, it had been enough for me to cave in. I knew he had been holding the reins from the very beginning, maybe he had been certain I would accept and willingly gave myself to him, I wanted to believe, at this moment, that he would truly see the length of my devotion for him. That I would let him feed on me, day and night if he had asked, and that he would become infatuated with me in the process. “Fine,” I’d said. And I added a little something so my game wouldn’t be too obvious. “But not a drop more than you need.”

“Really?” he had responded, truly surprised. As if we hadn’t spent almost thirty years together before all of this happened. As if we had not shared beds next to each other, hugging through the cold nights to keep us warm, despite his family’s richness. “I – of course. Not one drop more.” His smile was ravishing, his pointy teeth my demise. “Let’s make ourselves comfortable, shall we?”

And as he pointed my bedroll for me to lay down on it, my heart beat had accelerated deeply. It was like having an angel and devil on each shoulder, the former reminding me I was better than this, deserving more than a man - a vampire - that didn’t even remember who I was and what I had been for him, and the latter convincing my poor little soul that anything he would give me I would sufficiently feed from it. And thank him.

He didn’t look at me before he had driven his canine into my flesh and had bitten hard. It had been like a shard of ice into my neck – a quick, sharp pain that had faded to throbbing numbness. My breath had caught, my pulse had quickened, and I hadn’t known if it had been side effects of my blood being drunk or the diversion of him so close, doing something so sinful, of giving myself up to him and his desires. I didn’t want to stop, I had wanted for that to last days and nights and days again, his scent different but close to my memories, close enough it had stirred the dormant butterflies in my stomach. I had leaned into him, losing myself. I had felt my blood racing, coursing through both our bodies, a gentle, numb feeling had started to spread. And the angel screamed inside my ear that a few more seconds would permanently end me from his caress and presence. “That’s enough,” my voice had emerged from the crackling of the fire and the noises of suction.

“Mmh?” Astarion had gently stopped, even licked the wound and I almost fainted from the thrill. “Oh, of course.” He had stood up, not without difficulty, dizzy from the blood he had swallowed and the bliss he had clearly enjoyed. “That – that was amazing,” he revealed, his breath distraught, his pupils dilated. He had even cleaned the blood from his lips with his middle finger and watched mindlessly the horizon as he had sucked it. “My mind is finally clear. I feel strong. I feel… happy!”

He had sighed in a way I always thought I would hear after a full night of fuckery, of laughs and strokes, of pure delectation and adoration. Only he had done it for the blood I had given him, for the power I had ceded to him. He had mumbled some words afterwards but I had been so disgusted in myself, as much as aroused that I had not understood them. When I had seen him turning his back at me, I had shaken my head, tried to gain my composure and he had said over his shoulder, “this is a gift, you know. I won’t forget it.” The slice of hope he had given me that night had held me until this moment.

“He doesn’t owe you anything,” I hissed between my teeth, as I decided if Astarion wouldn’t want to say something, I would. I couldn’t stand seeing Cazador’s gloating face after all I had learned on him, on what he did to Astarion, to his subjects, to his pawn, only for him to become the Ultimate Vampire, something so wrong, so powerful, the laws of the universe shouldn’t even accept the ritual to happen.

“Have you fallen so far that this speaks for you?” Cazador replied, his loathing visible all over his face, but I had plastered the same look on my visage. High elf or tiefling, Cazador would discriminate against anyone that didn’t match his perception of perfection.

“I don’t need anyone to speak for me,” Astarion answered, and I winced at the pain his sentence imbued in my heart. Although I did understand why he would say such a thing, he always had been independent, strong, fierce. He never asked for help nor pleaded for something, which was all the more confusing when he was doing it with me. Before he was turned, it had merely never happened. I had, on multiple occasions, given my time and energy without having him demanding, I knew him well enough to comprehend his struggles, and the moments he needed me. Each time, he thanked me with words, soft kisses on the cheek or a round of beer in our favourite pub in Baldur. And after he became a vampire, it happened twice. When he needed to feed, and the night he was feeling the scars on his back.

He had been in his tent for most of the evening, and I had discovered him, bending his arm around, brushing the bumps and healed cuts with his fingers, talking to himself as he had tried to make sense of what he was feeling. “A line with a fork and one – two – three dots?”

The mere sight of his back, his sculpted shoulders and biceps, I had taken a minute to think if I really needed to interrupt him, as he would probably turn around and ask me to leave. It had been hard for me to realize how much torture and pain he had experienced, the ire twirling inside my body every time I had watched him on his bedroll, alone with his thoughts and demons. I wanted to believe I could be a distraction for him, some fun to forget about the horrible things he had endured. “Bloody infernal – how is anyone meant to read this garbage?” he spitted for himself as I stayed back, my arms crossed over my chest.

“Want me to take a look?” I had said, not without fear he would just tell me to go to hell and be gone.

His response was close to what I had imagined. “Ah! What are you doing?” His tone was harsh, protective. And I could only start to imagine why.

As I didn’t want him to be uncomfortable, I figured that night wasn’t the right time to share some minutes together, and I answered with a light and shy voice, already heading back to my own tent, “sorry, I’ll leave you alone.”

“Wait,” he hailed. “I’m sorry. You caught me by surprise, that’s all.” No more harshness, but delicateness, explicatory. He had a smoothness in his tint, I never could have gotten tired of. “I’ve been tracing the scars on my back with my fingers, trying to read them by touch, but I can’t. They may as well be written in Rashemi.”

Like old times, he wasn’t clearly asking for anything but I wanted to help, wanted him to rely on me and I proposed, even after several nights and days together, the fact he was now a vampire so far away from my instinct. “Want me to get a mirror?”

“… That had better be a joke. I can’t read it with a mirror and I can’t seem to read it with my hands either.” His grimace in front of my ignorance had taken the best of me, and as we would fight in the past, really just bickering, I wanted him to realize I could just help him, if he’d ask. I smiled, and waited for him to speak. One of his brows lifted. “So… I was wondering if maybe – perhaps – you might be able to…”

His uncomfortable stance and pathetic attempt to ask for my help was a delight to witness. This had felt like before all of this stumbled into awkwardness and mistrust. When we would gently enter a dispute but each and every single one of them resolved into laughter and sane communication. Watching him, with his staggering words and his unwellness through aid was too fun to avoid. I purposefully frowned, pretending I didn’t understand what he was asking, until he couldn’t restrain his impatience and erupted as he had done so many times in the past, “can you read what’s on my damned back?” and he added a little something I had heard once before. “Please.”

I almost felt bad when he pleaded, as I never liked playing with him. “Of course, turn around.”

He obeyed, slowly, firstly turning his head, as if he couldn’t bear to see my reaction towards his scars. The only thing I felt was anger, so terrifying and powerful I clenched my fingers into my palms. What he had traversed, what he had to submit to was too terrible. I had wanted to raze the entire world just to make sure Cazador would have died among the rest.

The carving was precise and thin but for the skin to mark this way, it had to be deep and slow and excruciatingly painful. His shoulders slumped just a bit and I tried concentrating on the symbols and the language so Astarion didn’t have to stay so vulnerable too much longer. I couldn’t read the text but I recognized the script. It was Infernal, the language of the Hells. “And? What does it say?” His voice disrupted my focus and made me jump just a little.

“I’m not sure. Hold still, I’ll draw it for you.” I said as I kneeled on the ground and started recreating the script in the dirt with my finger. Minutes floated by and it took me more time than I realized as I was constantly savouring the sight of him above me, so intimidating and complex after all these years spent apart. He coughed and sighed loud enough for me to quicken the pace and stand back when I was done.

As he didn’t hear the scratches on the ground anymore, he turned and murmured. “What in the hells…” His shock and horror were moving. “What did he do to me?” he added with a tinge of rage.

“What does it say?” I’d asked, seeing him zoning out into his own thoughts.

“I have absolutely no idea. But it’s no poem.” He said, his eyes clashing with mine as I tasted his anger through the tadpole sharing our emotions. Could he feel how sorry I was for him? If he did, he didn’t let me know. “Two centuries carrying this, and I can finally see it.”

“You really have no idea what this is?”

“None at all… Cazador was only figuratively hellish,” he rejoined, the irony of his tone didn’t transpire on his expression and his attitude, “there were never any devils hanging about the crypt. Whatever he’s left carved in my flesh, it’s a mystery to me.” He had lifted his chin up finishing his sentence and I had missed his sufficient air as much as it had always irritated me. I knew he was more than what his family had taught him, more than the way he had been educated, better than what most people were waiting for him to become, to accomplish. He had a heart, he wanted what was best for him, but also for the ones close to him. Now, his heart had stopped beating. And I didn’t know what he wanted anymore.

“Thank you, by the way. This is… well, it’s something.” He slurred out, bluntly. His red eyes showed what his high chin tried to conceal; genuine approbation.

“We’ll figure it out, I promise.” The words had left my mouth before my brain had time to process it. It had been on instinct as I relished the occasions where we could be close, and he might have become a vampire, he was still Astarion to me. My Astarion.

“Will we? How… sweet.” And the way he had looked at me, with a new interest, as if – finally - he remembered our sweet time together, two centuries ago, and was willing to, maybe, catch up on old times. His sensual gaze and his bare chest made my cheeks reddened and I had left his sight as quickly as I could that night, fighting the urge to be transparent and admit the feelings I had surrendered to for years.

I shook away the memory while Cazador spoke again, condescendence tanging every syllable. “No, you always had a gift for words. I fondly remember your empty boasting, your tired jokes, your endless prattle…”

“No! Shut up!” Astarion shouted. It was more and more difficult to stand by and watch, as he and I wanted to annihilate the monster with the bat of an eye. Painful, to listen to Cazador humiliating him after spending two hundred years torturing and manipulating him. This had been his way of protecting himself. It had been his way to avoid facing the horrifying truth of what his life had become, the fact that he couldn’t stand the hunger, the orders, the use of his body to lure credulous people into the hands of Cazador, the one and only he detested the most. Had to obey him, to submit to him, to accept his advances, to play the pretty little spawn for his master, everything about this misery was unbearable and he had to preserve his sanity. Had to humour the atrocity, to keep his humanity from truly disappearing.

“I suspected you would return to me changed. Never did I imagine you would be so wretched,” Cazador continued. “Oh, thankless child. Did I not bless you with our immortal gift? Did I not make you what you are?”

I almost giggled. Astarion loved power and wealth and having an easy life for him to enjoy the contentment of what his environment could offer. But he never searched for disproportionate yearnings. Eternity, he despised it. Wanted to make a difference while he lived, a huge impact, even, but never he wished for immortal gifts. He had wished for a family and a lineage. He had wanted to be happy and loved and cared for. He had wanted everything anyone could expect, although usually bathed with a glint of spiciness. But Astarion didn’t laugh. He launched forward. “You son of a bitch.”

His fist aimed for Cazador’s face but the latter imprisoned his wrists with blood magic and Astarion’s face wrinkled with stupor. “You truly forgot my power. You truly thought our bond as creator and creation was all that stopped you from killing me.” The vampire’s face bore a smile from the hells and I watched powerless Astarion getting controlled by his master. “You are weak, my child. You are a small, pathetic little boy who never amounted to anything.” His eyes glowed like a devil in disguise while he used his powers. The way he pronounced some letters showed how old he was and for how long he had been alive, which had been too long for my taste.

Astarion’s screams were unbearable to hear, and I wanted to reach for him, to ram myself that stake into Cazador’s heart, damn his need to be the one killing him to truly feel free of his grasp. I knew he would eventually thank me for the gesture, but I would probably witness his wrath after I would take his ultimate blow away from him.

Around the platform, the spawns appeared, each one bound to Cazador’s power, draining all seven of them from their essence, only one spot left; Astarion’s. “But today, you will finally do something worthwhile. You will burn, and I will ascend.” Szarr concluded.

With his spectre, he moved Astarion to his place like he was weighing nothing more than a piece of paper, and kept him immobile with invisible shackles. His clothes imploded into bloody ribbons and the mark on his back, his contract, glimmered with the same red the magic all around had imbued the room. The seven spawns to be sacrificed, for the vampire to ascend. They all grunted, suffered, restrained in the air, their bodies covered in blood, their own blood, and their backs heating as a fresh burn where Cazador had carved all of them. I stood so still I thought time had stopped. But Astarion’s voice carried to my ears and echoed loud and clear. “No! Stop him! And get me out of this!”

Even under the lines of his orders, I could hear the desperation, I could hear his begging, the ‘please’ he wanted to say so badly, but his madness and anger had gotten the best of him. He hadn’t watched me. His eyes were solely on Cazador. “Witness the birth of the Vampire Ascendant! Ecce dominus!” The latter proclaimed, his arms up, towards the heavens.

I rushed toward Astarion and dodged the attacks the old vampire tried to wound me with. If it wasn’t blasting lightning, he was summoning beasts and bats along my path. These, I could easily stab with my dagger, but Cazador was behind me now, and escaping his blows wouldn’t be so evident.

As Astarion was seeing me coming for him, he warned me of the blasts and I just had time to duck before a pillar that crumbled through the power of the shot. I covered my head so the stones wouldn’t knock me over and continued towards my friend. “Come on!” he shouted, encouragingly.

I casted a shadow spell, filling the area with a thick dark haze, giving no exact indication of Astarion’s and my own position and I grabbed his hand, forcing him out of his invisible cage. He fell on his knees, fighting for his breath. “Are you alright?” I dared ask, afraid of what he could respond, of how hard he could reject me. But I had to ask anyway. For my own sanity.

He only stood up, watched me straight into my eyes, a small rictus forming over his gorgeous lips, revealing his fangs, and said, “Never better.”

The fog vanished and another blast grazed my skull, finishing its course into the wall in the back of the crypt, the power of it unleashing a tremble under our feet. Astarion yelled, “try reaching for the others! If he’s not connected, he won’t perform the ritual!”

“What about you?”

“I’ll handle him.” And he raced to Cazador, that made himself disappear so he wouldn’t be too easily targetable. My body, legs and arms obeyed Astarion's demands, and I forced my way through the monsters, stabbing, piercing, slashing any of them coming through until I grabbed another spawn’s hand and withdrew him from the ritual. “No!” Cazador shouted and emerged from his darkness, right when Astarion attained his body. The Master couldn’t try to avoid the punch his spawn inflicted on his jaw and he stumbled back just a little before striking his sceptre onto the floor again and winnowing elsewhere inside the crypt. Astarion’s laugh rumbled inside my own body, the tadpole binding us sharing the overflow of emotions he was perceiving. The laugh grew louder and louder and I just saw how liberating this all was for him. How important it was, how therapeutic. His nerves were lashing out and he savoured it. “Keep going!” He screamed and I motioned for another spawn to liberate.

One by one, we were driving them away from their spot and Astarion continued hitting Cazador, not without handling some strikes himself, his skin stained with his blood, his face splattered, his hands caked. He was magnificent and terrifying. His red eyes were injected with blood and his horrible smile couldn’t recede. Until there were no more spawns in Cazador’s grasp and Astarion landed the final blow for Cazador to fall on his knees. “Get you hands off me, worm,” he dared say, barely looking up.

“I’m not the one in the dirt,” Astarion responded, his fangs showing. He slowly grabbed the dagger on the floor, walked in front of his master, and said, more to himself than us. “One last thrust and I’ll be free of you. I’ll never have to fear you again.” His voice cracked and the despair, the realization of where we were weighed finally on his shoulders. “But if I finish the ritual you started, I’ll never have to fear anyone, ever.”

I froze, as I understood the words he had spoken. Him? Becoming the Vampire Ascendant? After all he went through, all the values and principles he had to soil because of that disgusting person?

“You think me a fool? That I could allow anyone to usurp me, speak the words, and ascend in my place?” Cazador responded, still on his knees and still adopting that superior tone. “The runes I carved into your flesh bind you and all seven thousand souls to the ritual. Complete it and those bearing the scars will be sacrificed – you included. You are simply a means to an end. I made you to be consumed.”

“I am so much more than what you made me,” Astarion hissed and I felt a tickle of pride against my skin. Yes, he was much more than a vampire, much more than a spawn, much more than just a man. He was extraordinary. Capable of so many things. So much greatness. But being the Vampire Ascendant wasn’t one of them. “I can do this, but I need your help.” He added, talking to me.

And I twitched. The very first time he would explicitly ask for my help would be for this? For becoming an abomination, a being so different from who he was he wouldn’t even recognize himself afterwards? I was seeing him. I was seeing Astarion as what he had been and could be. He rejected being a vampire for two hundred years, now was not the time to become something worse. To hell with his immunity for the sun, I would protect him, be his sunshade. To hell the sanguine hunger, I’d give my neck, my thighs, my breast, my whole body for him to feast on so he would never feel unsatisfied again. I would be his everything, if he could just let me.

His eyes and gaze changed for a second and he frowned, waiting for my response with his natural impatience. “If I help you complete the ritual, it will kill all these people.”

He almost interrupted, “These people died years ago, trust me on that. All that’s left are feral spawn, desperate for blood,” the anger filling all the pores in his body. “If we release them, how many people will they kill? Tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands? But if I complete the ritual, think of the power I’ll have. With me by your side, we can save the city – we can save ourselves!”

His words found a familiar spot inside my heart but I was afraid they were not as genuine and sincere as I hoped. With me by your side. As I always wanted. Him and I. Together. Happy. This wasn’t happiness.

I reached for the tadpole linking us and watched inside his head, unperceptively wandering through his thoughts and wishes. Fear but also hunger. The thick smell of blood in the air and the promise of power being so close was intoxicating for him. All he could see was the power of the ritual, and the freedom that power would bring. The freedom to do anything – to be anything.

Many words came to mind when I searched for an answer. I didn’t really know which one would affect his soul more than another – if there was any soul left. But I had seen it, during the nights. After the grove’s save. When we had fought the goblins. Even though he had wanted to pair with that drow woman to destroy the druids, I had managed to change his mind. And that night following the celebration, I had seen it in his eyes, that interest peaking through. His invitation was on the tip of his tongue, the lust lurking over his face, where I knew where to look. When his lids were dropping more than usual, when his mouth couldn’t seem to bring itself to close, when his smile couldn’t leave his face, when his eyes kept darting over my lips.

Something could have happened that night. But with the bottle of wine swirling against his fingers, I had not wanted to take advantage of his disinhibition. And hadn’t wanted to think he considered me because of the alcohol. So, I’d let him see how much I did, wanted him, but left for my tent, and didn’t reach out until the following morning.

I looked him straight in the eyes and hoped my words would suffice. I would suffice. “I want you to live a life you’re proud of. You can’t be proud of this. I know you think this will set you free, but it won’t. This power will trap you, just like it trapped Cazador.”

And he took not so much time to deliberate, which was unexpected considering how the delusion had taken place into his heart. “You – you’re right. I can be better than him.” The sigh I was holding resonated inside the crypt. And I advanced one step toward Astarion before he spoke again. “But I’m not above enjoying this.”

The dagger firmly wielded in his hand, he grabbed Cazador by the hair, fangs out and eyes wide, and drove the blade into his chest. Once. Twice. Thrice. Again, and again and again, until Cazador was covered in blood and punctured by fifteen cuts. Astarion yelled, evacuating all the frustration, all the traumatizing memories, he shoved them inside his former master’s body and destroyed them with him. He savoured that one last breath and screamed at the world his anger and sadness, before falling onto his knees, the pain visible on his beautiful visage, even when covered in all this blood.

I just couldn’t move. Couldn’t bring myself to reach for him, to cradle him into my arms and repeat to him that everything was going to be alright, although I was dying to do so. He was crying, his body bent in two, his forehead almost kissing the floor and his lamentation had frozen my whole body. He was howling and whimpering and all his emotions flooded inside my own brain as I shed myself some tears, for the power of his sorrow was impossible even for an immortal to bear. No one should live such atrocities, no one should experience that much torment, and the fact that he didn’t – himself – ram a stake into his heart was a bloody miracle. He was free. Finally. “Is it… is it over?” One spawn demanded, fear still crippling behind her stare.

And Astarion stated, with a trembling voice, “Yes. He’s gone.”

†

(NSFW starting)

I had just finished showering, removing all the blood and dust, and really washing away the events of the day, when footsteps resonated inside the small cabin we constructed for the bathroom to be. “There you are,” Astarion’s sultry voice emerged from behind me. After the battle we had fought and the emotions I had shared with him, I wasn't so sure I would be able to handle him. Or whatever he wanted with me.

“You were looking for me?” I asked, my hands still struggling with the buttons of my long robe I would wear for sleeping. Since they decided to render my life complicated, I gripped them tighter and almost ripped the whole cloth open before thin and cold fingers interrupted the motion. I lifted my eyes to him and my heart skipped a beat watching him so closely. I knew my cheeks were red and I couldn’t cover myself.

His soft smile revealed his fangs. “May I?” he proposed and looked down while he gently reached for the buttons, the stroke of his knuckles over my breasts creating fire all over my body. He was delicate, meticulous, like he was manipulating the most fragile element. And my very soul reacted to his attention. He could sense it and enjoyed seeing me squirm. When he was done - and he took a damn long time on purpose - he sat over the rim of the table right in front of me and rested his hands on each side. “Can we talk?” He looked devolved.

I simply shrugged my shoulders, still trying to silently extinguish the brazier that had become my skin. “What’s on your mind?”

“I – wanted to thank you. For persuading me not to go through the ritual. It was the right choice, although I didn’t see it at the time.” His face was unreadable, even if he bore an expression much more approachable than his usual scowl over everything. He seemed sincere.

“It’s nothing,” I answered and turned around, as I couldn’t stay one more second with him near me.

“It’s not… nothing.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled on it firmly enough I knew I had no other choice. His fingers wriggled their way inside my palm and stroked where the skin was very thin and sensitive. “You were right. About what I wanted for me. And I needed you to remind me.”

I wished his words would have ended just a bit sooner. “You’re welcome, then.”

“I didn’t forget, you know?”

He replied so fast, I knew he had waited and wondered whether it was wise to admit it or not. If too many years had passed, if the moment had vanished. My blood was burning, my cheeks had adopted a yet to be discovered shade of red, and my legs were wobbly standing right between his, I realized. My eyes drifted from one place to another, couldn’t rest over him, couldn’t hold his powerful gaze. “Forget what?”

“Come on, darling, don’t play silly,” he chuckled and I sensed my panties watering at the mere sound. “We are connected, remember?” he added, tapping his temple with his index finger before sliding it to his chin. “I had to see what that pretty little head of yours was thinking, watching me so eagerly all the time.”

“Don’t you dare go into my head,” I frowned.

“Oh, because you haven’t? Don’t think I couldn’t feel you penetrate my walls,” and his smile widened at his allusion. I didn’t think it was possible but my temperature’s body augmented yet again. I lifted my hands and tried withdrawing them from his grasp, reaching for his shoulders to punch. “No need to be violent, my sweet!” he laughed again.

“Don’t call me that, we are not…” I started.

“What? Together? Lovers? Isn’t that what you wish for?” he goaded, talked slowly for his words reached their destination, his fangs showing but with an extremely serious expression on his face. I was torn apart, my heart was about to burst out of my chest and my skin was burning from inside out, the only dress covering my body yet enough to be uncomfortable over my scorching flesh. “I’ve seen your desire. All these years ago too, without that worm inside our head. I saw it in your eyes, you wanted me to be yours, and wanted yourself to be mine. Didn’t you?”

This was another form of torture. He was playing with me, playing with my feelings and my emotions and I couldn’t handle a tenth of what he was doing right now. I needed to leave and be far from here, his scent suffocating, his contact perturbing my hormones, his stare undressing me. “Stop…”

“Be honest with me, love. Be honest with yourself. Tell me. Did you want me?” he insisted and this was too much, he was too much.

“Don’t do this to me…”

“Because I want you,” he faltered, his hand on the small of my back, pulling me even closer to him. His lips caressed the skin under my ear and he murmured against it. “For more than two hundred years, I’ve been wanting you. And now that I have you back, I am not letting you go.”

It sounded like a dream. The same dream I was having before I realized he was trying to feed on me, but everything was too real, and too palpable, he was nudging, and kissing my neck and whispering dirty terms inside my ears. All I had ever wanted, he had wanted them too. "Why didn't you say anything?" I asked, among the relief, another feeling insinuated.

His eyes searched for mine when I was purposefully avoiding him. These unsaid emotions were hard to acknowledge after so many years repressing them. And his gaze had always been the hardest to handle. "I was a coward..." His fingers clenched over the fabric of my gown, fidgeting uncontrollably. "Everything was perfect. You by my side, our family promising us the most luxurious future we could have hoped. I was afraid it would change our complicity, our chemistry. And when I understood it would only transform for the better, it was too late."

I hung on his lips for all the words I had hoped to hear for decades and didn't want him to stop. He reached for my skin. “I should have made you stay that night,” he licked my neck where he had kissed. “This is why I had been out so late. I realized what you meant for me. How wrong I was." His voice was just a whisper cooling my flesh. "I’m sure I would not have needed much for you to accept, am I wrong, darling?”

I only answered with a sigh, as my brain couldn’t think of any words and my mouth was too occupied restraining itself from kissing his salacious lips. His voice was suave and coated with honey and I stuck to them like the oxygen I needed to breathe and the water I needed to drink to survive. “Did I render you speechless?” he smiled over my still burning skin. His teeth played with my earlobe, his laugh rumbled like thunder in the night sky and my legs couldn’t support my body anymore. He giggled at the sight of me on my knees. “As much as I would enjoy myself in this position, let’s not make a mess out of you just yet.”

Never would have I imagined him behind so voluptuous and debauched. He had always known about his good looks, and relished using them for personal purposes, but as he had stayed very friendly with me, I had never seen this side of him. And when I imagined him being… rather explicit with me, I thought he would be gentler and more tender. The glint of spiciness shimmered in the corner of his eyes, and his dropping lids couldn't lie about his eagerness, especially when his focus revolved around my mouth. He was so determined, and ravenous... And I liked being the center of his desire. I liked feeling his undisciplined lust against my skin. And mostly, I loved his appetence for dominance.

He grabbed me under the arms and lifted me as if I weighed nothing, made me sit onto the table, opened my thighs and paused his waist between them. My back was stiff and I stood straight and tall. His fingers grazed my spine and triggered shivers all over my body, which nonetheless didn’t cool my skin. His other hand grabbed my chin and forced my gaze to fall upon him. “What do you want, sweetheart?”

Was he truly asking me? I never had been the one to say, always the one to act, to obey. Without even knowing, I entered his mind and travelled around his most devious thoughts. All of them were about me. All of them evolved around the places he could sink his teeth into, where he could kiss, all the pleasure he wanted me to feel. But one of them echoed deafeningly. I could eat her up upon this table.

“Well, aren’t you snooping around, now? Found something you like?” he purred and I was nothing more than a ball of pure thirst, desire and fearless craving. My mouth fell hard upon his and I sensed his smile, his canines poking my blood-filled lips and he groaned slowly, loudly, as I imprisoned his own lip between my teeth. Our kisses were harsh, thirsty, feverish, as all these years of waiting, of fantasizing had created such an irritable appetite. He was all I ever wished for, and he couldn’t even try to be disappointing. His hands travelled all over my body, and I couldn’t remember where I started and where he ended, as we had become one, swallowing each other’s moans, growls, thrusts. Astarion tugged on my hair and exposed my wounded neck from his previous bite. His eyes glimmered with passion, and his pants rubbed against my core, made me gasp so loudly, he lifted his brows, inquisitive. “Did I hurt you?” he asked, breathless.

I shook my head with frantic fervor, he understood precisely what I thought. “Do you want me to hurt you, my love?” Yet I couldn’t bring myself to admit it, to express the words of everything I’d like him to do with me, starting with what he had thought of moments ago.

His smile was feral and my downfall. Everything about him was so intoxicating, I would have done abhorrent things for him, accepted the most unpleasant of fates. Becoming a vampire had intensified what he was so good at. His looks, his charisma, his persuasion. I was inflamed by this man and I was forgetting myself. “I want to taste you,” he said between kisses over my delicate flesh, licked the two punctures he had inflicted and hummed at the reminiscing. I closed my eyes and waited, as he not so gently pushed over my chest so I would lay on the table, my dress barely covering my legs and my entrance anymore, his fingers still fisted around my hair and his breath warming my blood a little more. “Do you trust me?” he asked, his mouth still parted in a large smile as I could hear in his tone, his amusement, the enjoyment doing all of this.

And I was afraid he wouldn’t be, enjoying as much as I was, after everything he had to endure for the sake of his tormenter Cazador. All the people he had wrongfully touched and teased and caressed. People he didn’t like, and felt guilty manipulating this way. “Dearest…” his voice brought me back to the present and I felt the wave of his own excitement, his urgent arousal regarding my person, when his mind had found a way to my own, and he showed me what he saw, a beautiful woman he had always known and always respected highly, there was no room for hesitation anymore. He wanted this. “Do you trust me?” he repeated. And I nodded. Closed my eyes and nodded, captured the strap of my dress and glided it across my shoulder to bare my neck even more, so he could taste, he could savour and devour all that he wished.

Only he didn’t reach my neck. He laughed, proud of his little scheme, and uncovered my robe up until my stomach, kneeled and widened my legs for him to taste. One lick and I gasped, another one and my eyes were inside my skull, my back arching through the rapture. He used his lips, tongue and fingers and I was petrified by the way he was feasting on me, his moans vibrating over my core and his filthy words bringing me closer to my orgasm. “I knew you would be exquisite,” he admitted, rhythmed by the strokes of his tongue against my clit, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore. Everything about him was participating to my pleasure bursting from every pore, astonished in front of his sex appeal, I sensed the fire ascending, leaching the walls, going up and up and up, until Astarion decided to stop.

“What are you doing?” I drawled while watching him stand up, his pants and shirt already gone, his beautiful and perfect body on display for me to relish on. He squeezed my thighs and caressed them, reaching for my waist that he firmly grabbed and approached to the end of the table.

“Oh, you’re not coming just yet, precious,” he explained, no longer laughing. His eyes were decided, his stare tenacious. “I want us to come together.”

He drove himself to my entrance and teased, the noises of slicking so vulgar and obscene, I covered my face with my hands. But Astarion swore, and penetrated me in one fast motion, my moan getting stuck inside my throat. He stayed deep inside, letting myself adjust to his girth, to his length, to the sight and the feeling of him inside me, finally inside me. “Astarion…” I whispered and he started moving, finding back my voice enough of an invitation for him to proceed.

“Yes,” he answered, but I wasn’t so sure he was responding. His eyes were closed and his body rolled majestically, the muscles of his abdomen glistening for the pearls of his sudation covered his cream-coloured skin. He was waving so gracefully inside me I could have climaxed from the view of him alone. But it was his gaze over mine and my hand he grabbed and tangled between his own fingers, his thrusting more cadenced and vigorous, that unleashed my orgasm. He bent over me, kissed me, as if he wanted to swallow all that I was releasing into the world, and he continued his movements, his groans more and more unbearably indecent and exciting. “Can I keep going? Please, I want to keep going…” he whined against my lips, his hips incapable of staying immobile and I almost begged him to continue, to never stop. The feeling was too good, too liberating, too immensely impeccable, his body, his face deeply deformed by the satisfaction he experienced, I couldn’t get enough of this, I never would, not even in an eternity.

“Fuck… please?” he asked again and straightened his spine, looked at me as if I had been the oasis in the desert, his fingers trailing between my breast, on my stomach, until the apex of my thighs, that he rubbed slowly, torturously. He was still throbbing inside me, so delicately, waiting for my approval. His other hand closed around my ankle and lifted my leg, so my foot would be right next to his mouth. He kissed it, without taking his eyes off me, still anticipative for my response, his fangs taunting the side, and I jolted at the sensible rub. “You’re not focused, my sweet. And I’m getting impatient.” he complained with his voice low and his eyes reproachful.

My body struggled descending the first climax he had given me, and my breath was still very much distraught, but he could have everything. My head nodded as I closed once again my lids, trying desperately to find back the sense of myself. And his next move did the work.

As he used my leg to pivot, he entangled his arm around my waist and lifted, while the rest of my body turned, the wooden table now scraping my aching breast, my toes barely touching the ground. Astarion’s cock twitched against my thigh and he didn’t wait another second to plunge back inside, a beautiful sigh of relief escaping his mouth. He didn’t say more.

His groans and moans were the most perfect sounds I’d ever heard. I didn’t imagine him so vocal. He’d always been in control of himself, of his emotions and feelings, and seeing him like this, so dishevelled, so bold and comfortable with me, it almost brought tears to my eyes, and I was glad I was not facing him.

His thrusts were fast, mighty, dominant, and I loved it. He groped me everywhere, kissed me, bit me but never to the blood, only to mark, and I was so desperate for him to be mine, I let him. If he wanted my body to be a representation of who I was to him, if he needed me to be physically wounded to imprint his belongings, I would gladly give myself to the pain. He grabbed my nape, my hair, my ass, changed his attention as if he couldn’t get enough of everything that was displayed for him to enjoy, and I felt the orgasm reach for me yet again, knowing the fulfilment he was having enough of a motor to make me yell between these four walls, scream so loud, the entirety of Baldur would hear us.

“Shit…” Astarion cursed and I sensed it wouldn’t take long before he would give in to the blissful delight of his own release. He clenched my waist with one hand, the other one disappearing through my hair and acknowledging himself climaxed sufficed to make my body join him, with impressive force. Our yells and cries united and the walls even shivered. "Gods..." he whispered, his face buried inside my neck, that he bit gently, linking our bodies in more ways than one. We breathed loudly for minutes, stayed laying down on the table, incapable of moving anything else than our busts for the oxygen to come in and out. But he finally withdrew himself from me, and lifted my upper body to him, cuddling my burning skin against his cold flesh. His lips found my hair, my temples, my neck, my shoulders, he planted his kisses like he would sow a field of flowers and shower them with love. He hummed against my ear, his hands solidly attached to my belly, and murmured, “that’s right, darling. I love you.”

Thanks for reading!! Tell me if you liked it, that would be much appreciated. Sweet dreams...

[goldyluna]

Revenge ask (like revenge boop) I know you have already talked about yttd AUs, so maybe you could tell something about your OC(s) too? (⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Yasss, hell yeah I will. The problem is I don't know which one to pick... So I will probably write about them all (with some fragments that I wrote years ago).

But I will tell you first about the world my ocs live in. My universe is named The Beginning of The End (cliche but it stuck). This world is full of magic, superstitions and prejudice. But it is also beautiful in some ways. Woods filled with life, people with good intentions, spirits showing the way. Unfortunately, the story starts with death. Five of them exactly.

✮

Let's now meet our main characters:

Golden Rose – she is a beautiful medium with crazy mind. She can see the ghosts and do favors for them. She tragically lost her parents and had to live in an orphanage. Her only friend was a kid ghost, Boo, that never takes off his ghost sheet. Rose can let the ghost possess her, but if she lets them stay too long, the connection to the ghost world starts getting bigger and bigger, letting in the evil spirits and making it harder to close the connection. A lot of people died the day she first lost control. Desperation and guilt push her to drastic measures filled with water and flowers.

Tear – a Dark Empath. He was cursed even before he was born, because his grandparents angered the wrong people. He feels the emotions of other people, but without them he is an empty shell. People from his village shunned him and all he can feel from them is hate and distrust. Empaths are common, but the evil ones are called Dark. They like to take emotions from other people to leave them empty like dolls. People think Tear is one of them so the only positive emotions directed at him are from his mother and sister that likes giving him cute accessories. If Tear ever was close to feeling any of his emotions, it was love for his family. But curiosity killed the cat. He read that people choose suicide as a way to feel. So what's a better way to check it out than trying to fly?

The Seer - not a lot is known about her. Her age, name and story is a mystery. People say she is untouchable, no man ever got to kiss or to touch her, that usually angered them. The Seer got her name because she draws and paints the future. The hands and magic guide her so she isn't really aware during the process. The Seer lives in a dark, magical forest, full of creatures. She also specializes in dark magic. It is a shame the magic she loves so much can also hurt her so fatally.

Elijah – demon spawn, a creature of hate. Contrary to the title, he was born from love. It was the people fearing everything that looked different that wanted him gone. His life was mostly peaceful, living in the forest with his "aunt" so he doesn't bring danger to his parents. Unfortunately, hunters don't know when to stop looking.

Raven – he can heal anyone with just a touch. He is a talented medic too, even if he isn't using his powers. His parents are ritch and wants him to be a doctor, but don't accept him. They still call him his daughter, even after transitioning, as they think it is just a phase. He still loves his family and would do everything for them. So he heals and heals and works hard. But everything has the price. Wound for wound, life for life. The recompensation must be the similar weight as nothing happens without a reason. Raven has a chance to see it himself one day.

★

Like I said, it all begins with death. But that is the real beginning of this story. Let's see one together!

✮

How funny is it that ghosts judge less than living people? Thought the Golden Rose on her deathbed. This bed was hot water in a bathtub covered with rose petals. There were tall candles burning brightly around them and next to them were smoking incense sticks with the scent of summer flowers. It could have been a romantic sight if the girl didn't know that the water was about to turn red. Her naked body ached and shivered from the cold, even submerged in burning water. The ghost hands were holding onto her hours after tragedy. Ghosts are nicer than living people, ghosts teach me new things, Róża continued in mind. It wouldn't be that bad to become one of them. She ignored the voice in her head telling her that ghosts can be as vicious as living people. "Are you sure you want to do this?" the voice asked, waking her up from her thoughts. Next to the bathtub was a young boy standing. His face and most of his body were covered with a white sheet. He looked like a ghost from cartoons Rose watched on TV when she was little. His voice was full of sadness but also understanding. After all, he was a big part of her life with her, so he knew what she went through. If he were alive, he would shiver only thinking about it. "Yes." A blade shined beautifully in orange and red flames. A hint to what will happen next. "Okay then. It's time to say hello to the Grim Reaper."

✮

But wow, that's how the story starts and Golden Rose is the main character! It doesn't mean she didn't die. But if they die now, it will be forever.

So maybe let's go to one of the first interactions of our main casts!

✮

A girl with strange eyes and goat-like horns looked at them in disbelief. "Why are you so calm!? So... relaxed? Shouldn't you be at least a little scared? After all, you have lost your chance for a normal life! And you... You sit and drink tea as if nothing happened?!" The nameless girl shouted, losing control of herself. Tear felt her confusion and anger. He decided that she was one of those people who didn't like not knowing what was going on. As if her hands and eyes were tied, sitting in the dark. Poor girl. "What normal life?" asked Rose. Her voice soft and lacking the usual edge, as Lucifer had fallen asleep in her lap fifteen minutes ago and she didn't have the heart to move him. "In my normal life, I killed myself. Just like everyone else here." The medium stopped petting the cat to messily gesture at everyone present in the room before going back to petting. Lucifer purred loudly, making her smile for a second. "This whole school is a fucking graveyard of the walking dead. Aren't you one of them, dolly?" "I- of course, but-" "Plus, I've seen stranger things," The Seer interjected. She had already drank her own tea and was staring at the grounds at the bottom. She had to say the future looked interesting. "You try living in the swamps. I'll finally sleep in a regular bed and talk to someone other than my old books. After so many years of knowing each other, they have little to say."

"...And everything tells me that life with you all will not be boring."

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That... went well? Our group of misfits is weird but normal is booooring!

And even misfits deserve some love and family. People that will do everything for each other, even the craziest things...

✮

Golden Rose suddenly stopped and turned her head towards the nymph. There was a strange gleam in her eyes and her lips curved into a smile. However, it was a bit too wide and too sharp to be friendly. The make-up completed the image of a cruel jester. "Why shouldn't I kill you, hmm?" she asked in a sweet voice. Too sweet to be genuine. Suddenly her smile dropped and her face became completely blank. "You know... I've always been a fan of Shakespeare's works. Hamlet was my idol, he made pretending to be mad so easy. So I tried it myself and I have to tell you... I was great at it. But now I'm not sure if I'm still pretending." A dark laugh echoed and bounced off the stone walls. Nymph shivered with cold and fear. In the semi-darkness of the corridor, Rose's eyes glowed dangerously. The medium turned completely towards her prey and a knife in her hands looked unnaturally sharp. He hadn't been there before, but the sea girl wasn't going to ask where it came from. Despite her earlier words, she had no intention of dying today. Permanently this time. "Remember, don't play with me and what is mine. Then you won't have to worry about the Fool and his madness... Got it?" "Y-yes," tears welled up in her eyes, her shoulders were shaking. "Good girl," Rose almost purred, looking the nymph straight in the eyes. She brought the knife to her cheek gently, but still blue blood escaped down the blade. "Hmmm, if you weren't such a bitch, you'd be quite pretty. With tears on your face, blood and a look of complete devastation. I would like to destroy you. More." And suddenly the feeling of cold metal disappeared from her cheek and she took a breath, not knowing she had been holding it. The medium was nowhere in sight, but she still felt as if she was surrounded by the undead. Shaking herself, she started running towards her dorms, promising herself that she would avoid the newest group. It's full of freaks.

✮

So that's that! I gave myself a hard job talking about all characters, but well. I love them all. I hope it was interesting to read at least!

[yakuzacanons]

Hello there 🌷

I really appreciate your work 💖 enjoying every single post hehe ☺️

Can I request hcs, how the boys would react when they find out that s/p has cheated on them? (like s/o has been lonely bc the boys are always busy...) Thank you in advance. Have a nice day 🍀

Sorry for the late response, this one is going to be tricky. I don't think there's really ever a good reason to cheat so I won't be justifying why the boys get cheated on, but I will cover how they react to it. Having said that, this one will be fairly brief but I hope you like it. Headcanons below the cut as always.

Also, first time introducing Shinada to the gang. Get hyped.

Kazuma Kiryu

Disappointed more than anything. Kiryu doesn't ask for much and always does his best and in the end he will blame himself for your infidelity. He won't outright end things but he'll never be the same. Eventually, he will break it off down the line as he feels the trust is shattered and no matter how much time has passed, he can't shake the feeling that it could happen again.

Majima Goro

Hope you're ready to get ghosted if you cheat on this man because that is absolutely what will happen. The second Majima finds out, he's gone. You won't see or hear from him again. There's no if, and, or but about it. After all it took for him to open up and trust you, you broke him. That's exactly what he was always afraid of and you just proved him right.

Akiyama Shun

Goes straight into denial mode. Might actually BEG you to stay because he'll blame himself for not giving you enough. Mostly, he blames his trauma from past relationships. Chances are you won't hear from him for a couple of days because he'll go into a little depression hermit crisis mode. He'll stick around to try to make it work but you can tell his energy is totally sapped from the relationship.

Saejima Taiga

Doesn't get mad, just gets distant. Out of all the boys, he's most likely to try to forgive you for this. He may even actually "get over it", in a sense that the thought of it doesn't upset him much anymore. However, he will be noticeably more distant. He won't call or text as much and when he does, his replies will be much shorter. He'll be less open with you.

Tanimura Masayoshi

Gets dejected as hell. He knows he's a busy man but damn if he didn't try his best only for it not to be enough. Very inexperienced with love and chances are you are his first or second relationship ever, so it's a huge blow to him. Will try to hide how upset he feels to make things work but he's terrible at hiding it. Cries himself to sleep when he first finds out.

Ryuji Goda

He'll just break up with you on the spot. If you're living together, he'll arrange for one of his employees to pack your things and drive you into Sotenbori. He won't even see you out the door. He is hurt but it's more so that he feels all the work he's put into the relationship was a waste of time and Ryuji hates to waste his time and energy. Moves on the quickest out of all the boys.

Nishikiyama Akira

Will never stop asking why, even if he stops asking you directly and out loud, he will never stop wondering why it happened. It's a huge blow to his confidence. He will become much more timid because he's afraid of doing something that will cause you to cheat again because he thinks it's his fault. Will likely ghost you slowly over time.

Daigo Dojima

He'll cry when he's entirely alone. Things are so hard for Daigo as is. He is trying very hard to not let this break him. Will try to salvage the relationship but he's also not trusting of you at all so it'll end up being a sleeping-in-separate rooms situation, all the while he stares at the ceiling late at night wishing it could be the way it was again. Daigo genuinely panics and feels trapped, wondering what he could've done, if he can prevent this from happening, and if he even wants to bother trying anymore. The chances of him leaving you are low, so he'll likely let himself get cheated on again unfortunately.

Mine Yoshitaka

King of giving you the cold shoulder. He won't shut you out entirely but if you want to fix things, you will have to WORK at it. Mine's logically driven so he'll be watching to see if you can prove that this relationship is what you want. It's basically like winning his heart over from the very start all over again.

Tatsuo Shinada

Only one of the boys to cry outright upon hearing the news. Will be inconsolable. Cries loud and hard. He'll let you decide what to do with the relationship because once this happens, he just doesn't care anymore. He's so dejected and hurt that if you wanted to leave, it wouldn't bother him because he's already feeling his lowest. If you decide to stay, it will take a LOT of reassurance to get him back to himself in any capacity.

[utapri-hana]

💛 Side stories translation ❤️

Ranmaru Kurosaki

Demon God (Fire Ring Clothing)

❤️ Episode 1:

🦊Tenko: I am back. ......Oh! Looks like Tokiharu is still studying for the "School". Shall we have tea by ourselves?

😈 Ran: I never imagined a hundred years ago, or even twenty years ago, that I would be drinking tea with you. Although I knew only the name Tenko through Ren.

🦊: I used to hear about you from Ren too. It is an old tale that there is a demon god who is very feared. But now, he's a big brother that everyone can rely on.

😈: you are the one to talk ? ......Whether it's Tokiharu or the people around him, if they weren't such a handful, I wouldn't be taking care of them.

You weren't always like that, were you? I heard there was a rough period when even the foxes had a hard time talking to each other. I don't want to ask too much about it, but I heard that there's a lot going on with each other.

❤️ Episode 2:

😈: .........Oh, it's you. I just told you the other day to stay out of my life. If they see you talking to me, other demons will avoid you.

......... STOP LAUGHING! What's wrong with a demon eating fruit? Fruits still have better taste than humans. It's got a nice color and gloss. And it won't let out a scream that hurts my ears.

Good grief! Just take it easy. I don't care who your lover is, I just don't eat humans. If you want to be a mystic's wife or whatever, do it.

You won't listen if I tried to stop you. Do whatever you want. That's your thing, I know it as much as I hate it. Not even I have the courage to get in the way of love.

I'm rooting for you......I'm not against it, so let's just say leave it at that. 'Cause you're stubborn....You haven't changed a bit since you were a little demon, have you?

❤️ Episode 3:

😈: I'm sorry, we were talking about working together to take them down, Tengoku. But I got ahead of myself when I had the culprit in front of me. I just wanted to get this guy down and put him out of his misery.

However, this one shot reminded me of the old days............You were unlucky too. I'm a little resentful that he made me dream without my permission. I don't think I will be able to hold back!

With a perfectly calm arm, I may not be able to give half of its original power. but it's quite enough to send you to hell.

Ha, are you scared now? How sweet....I am not forgiving you even if you begged for your life! For every dream you showed me, I will return it with a nightmarish reality.

The more demons are feared, the stronger they become. with a single thrust, I'll smash you into pieces. You will witness The power of a fiery Demon god!

Natsuki Shinomiya

Tenko (heavenly garment)

💛 Episode 1:

🦊Tenko: It's getting hot, isn't it ~ Both of you, Otoharu-kun and Shonoshin should not be too reckless. I usually don't pay attention to my kimonos....

*Transformation*

🦊: This should be perfect for this season. It's a little old, but it's still as comfortable as ever. You two, what do you think?

*Otoharu and Shonoshin clapping for him*

🦊: I'm glad.....you know, Recently, I had a dream. So I was thinking, maybe it was about time to wear this kimono again.

Do you notice that the decorations are a bit simpler than when Shonoshin "changes"? Rest assured that I myself will not change.

Just like a yokai gaining power through someone's prayers and wishes. I may be stronger than usual.

Clap, clap .....Fufu, shall we try it?

💛 Episode 2:

Oh, I'm dreaming again The illusion of those days.

A dream about a human who was shunned for his ability to see Yokais so he was an offering to gods, and a Fox...

What a selfish creature humans are. I never asked for a single offering. With Such rebelliousness I let him live, but .....

He was easily kicked out of the village, and yet he never uttered a single word of complaint. On the contrary, he saw through my arrogance and still smiled at me for being a gentle fox.

Was this cloth the only thing he said he wanted? I was never able to cure him of the disease that was eating away at him.

But now, that bond has come back to me. So this time, I will protect it. That's why, for the past..... I will pay him back.

[stingslikeabee]

His message was passed through the usual discreet channels ( primarily, a folded note in the fingers of a crafty blonde ). It was simple : a request to meet at their usual place, the old house no one ever went to, that Friday evening.

Daigo was waiting for her when the time came. He looked rather striking in his dark suit as he pathed around the bedroom with a cigarette between his teeth. At the sound of her footsteps on the stairs, Daigo grinned, all teeth and joy. Quickly, he extinguished his small guilty pleasure in an ash tray.

The handsome scoundrel greeted her first with a kiss. He couldn't help himself. Embracing Melissa returned a fire to his belly that he had long thought killed after he married his wife. While he held great affection for Mayumi, he felt no real love for her. Not like this wild, unrestrained thing that overtook him every time he drank in the sight of Melissa Crawford or touched her flawless skin.

"I have something to tell you," Daigo murmured, hands gently holding his beautiful mistress by the hips. "I will not be returning home at the end of the month, as it was planned. Shun and Guinevere . . . Guinevere is expecting. They are going to stay until the baby is born ; they are afraid the trip back would be too hard for her and the child. I have already said I would linger with them."

Daigo sighed. "For us, Melissa. We can continue to do this until the fall." His black eyes glittered with his excitement at that.

unscripted asks . always accepting

The last couple of weeks had been complicated for Melissa, to say the least. The woman was sure that at least the maid suspected of something being amiss - the brunette was not too great at hiding her emotions, bad or good ones. Life with Jonathan was... Bland. A show of politeness, respect and civility, but boring. Tedious, really, to the point that Melissa felt as if she suffocated.

But then, there had been Daigo Dojima - and it was as if life had suddenly been painted with bright colors, as if some sort of fire had been alight in her eyes and the laughter flowed freely again. It wasn't too difficult to realize that it couldn't have been linked to her husband - not when Jonathan's routine had not changed for a split second, still devoted to the well-being of the local citizens as ever and providing for his home as well as he was able.

And yet, the more numerous the hours that councilman Crawford spent at his office, the happier his wife appeared to be; with a life of her own away from the home, even if her excuses were decently elaborated and the politician seemed pleased that she was in good spirits.

The charitable efforts that Melissa supervised at certain parts of the town were real - and good cover. The home where she met with Daigo had been located in the right area of the city for that to work rather flawlessly and for most people to be used to seeing her there, alone (councilman Crawford was always busy, after all). If people suspected of the Japanese immigrant being there, she didn't know - frankly, Melissa didn't care.

And it showed in how fast she was to respond to the kiss pressed to her lips - hugging her lover as if her life depended on it and as if he was the source of the air that had liberated the brunette from the suffocation of a dull and colorless existence. Even the foul mood of the last days had been wiped away - after all, Melissa knew she was so close to losing Daigo; to losing the one man she truly loved.

But, as he unveiled the news, her honeyed eyes blinked with surprise - a baby? Was her newest friend (and ally) pregnant and this was how she found out? But the minor disappointment in not being told outright by Guinevere was vastly outweighed by the news that Daigo was not leaving - not now, at least; not within the foreseeable future so they could remain together.

An affair that should have been ended eons ago, but which neither of them seemed capable to pull away from. No doubt the blonde had guessed that Melissa would be more pleased to know that her secret relationship would survive for a few more months than the idea she was to be a surrogate aunt to her child - and the councilman's wife would need to thank Guinevere later for that.

"I came here prepared for goodbye," she said eventually, smiling up at him, "I thought I was losing you forever," the woman laughed softly, but clearly overjoyed with the news. Her petite arms brought the former criminal back down, enlacing him by the neck and pulling Daigo for another kiss, but one that was longer and hungrier than the welcoming one. Melissa then tugged at him, the motions a signal for a practiced move - and soon enough the man moved to capture her effortlessly in his arms, somehow not interrupting the kiss during the entire thing.

He walked through the familiar room to deposit Melissa on the bed, kneeling over the mattress and joining her soon as he loomed over the feminine figure. Melissa breathed deeply, cheeks flushed and hair splayed all under her head. Well, it was a good thing the room had long been equipped with personal items and toiletries, because they'd both need it later.

"I will take each and every single minute with you, Daigo," she murmured to the Japanese man, running the knuckles of her right hand over his face with impossible tenderness and feeling lost in his eyes - the twin pools of darkness that seemed eager to swallow her whole but which contained just the right light. Like stars in the sky above, Melissa could watch his dark and beautiful gaze forever and the way it shifted when she was around.

"Make love to me, Daigo, please. I need you now," she made room for him, and they both shifted around the mattress in a dance they had long mastered, "I'll need you every single day until fall, my love."

[healeroflightanddark]

Love Rivals, Chapter 1: The Rivalry Begins

Yuya sat on a bench in Maiami Central Park with Sora, Dennis, and Shun, and his counterparts, watching a couple of kids duel together. The kids looked like they were having fun, and the eight teens were enjoying watching the duel. One of the kids was a recently enrolled student at You Show Duel School, and Yuya was very proud of her progress. He clapped and cheered when she won the duel.

“Well, that was fun!” Sora said as the young duelists dispersed. Yuya nodded happily. “She’s been working really hard to learn how to duel! I’m so proud of her!”

“All of the kids at your duel school are hard working,” Shun said. Yugo nodded in agreement, “Of course they are! Yuya’s a very good teacher! Anyone who studies under him would be motivated to do their very best!”

Yuya beamed with pride, very happy that his friends considered him to be a good teacher. He was about to respond, when suddenly Yugo’s tummy growled loudly, making the blunana blush. “Ah, let’s go home! I’m starving, and your mom’s cooking is the best!” the Synchro counterpart said. Ever since the four counterparts had somehow split up, Yuto, Yuri, and Yugo had been staying with Yuya and his family. Yoko had even informally adopted them, and referred to them all as her sons.

“Yeah, I’m getting hungry too,” Yuto said. Everyone else nodded, and Yuya stood up. “Well, I’m sure Mom won’t mind having company for lunch! She loves it when I have friends over to eat her cooking!”

They were about to leave the park, when suddenly a voice called out. “Yuya! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you!” The boys all turned to see Sawatari running towards them. He stopped in front of Yuya, smiling at the tomato-haired boy. “Here, I have a gift for you!”

He held out his hand, and presented Yuya with a lovely red rose. Yuya blushed a little as he took it. “Oh! Thank you, Sawatari! It’s very pretty!”

Sawatari beamed. “A very pretty rose for an equally pretty boy!” he said. Yuya blushed brighter, smiling at Sawatari. “Would you like to come home for lunch with us?”

Sawatari lit up and nodded, “It would be my pleasure!” Yuya smiled and said, “Well, let’s go then!”

*   *   *

The Sakaki house was an hour’s walk from the Central Park, but nobody really seemed to mind apart from Yugo, who started complaining after a while about how hungry he was. Yuya managed to calm him eventually by pointing out that the food would taste better if he was hungrier.

They were almost at the house when suddenly a car pulled up next to them. The back door opened and Reiji stepped out, holding a bouquet of a dozen red roses. The young CEO immediately presented the roses to Yuya, saying, “For you, Sakaki Yuya.”

“Oh!” Yuya was surprised, blushing brightly. “They’re beautiful! Thank you!”

“They’re not as beautiful as you,” Reiji said, smiling warmly at Yuya. A moment later his violet eyes fell behind the tomato-head, and he started glaring. Yuya glanced behind him, and saw Sawatari with an equally venomous glare looking at Reiji. After a moment, Sawatari said, “I’ll meet you guys at Yuya’s house. There’s something I need to do real quick!”

*   *   *

Sawatari arrived at Yuya’s house almost an hour later, holding a massive bouquet of one hundred red roses. He immediately presented them to Yuya, smiling proudly. “Mine is bigger!” he said. He looked smugly at Reiji, who had joined the group for lunch.

Reiji glared at Sawatari, and everyone could see some form of love rivalry forming between the two. Reiji and Sawatari were both Yuya’s rivals in Dueling, but it seemed they were each other’s rivals when it came to Yuya. The tomato-head was quite flustered when he realized it, blushing brightly.

Before anyone could say anything about it, Reiji and Sawatari confirmed their suspicions. Reiji scowled and said, “Yours may be bigger, but I’ll be the one to win Yuya’s heart!”

“Oh, it’s on!” Sawatari replied. “His heart will be mine! You’ll see!”

[crayondinos]

okay so i just kinda want to word vomit/rant a little and the only person who would be okay with that is like SUPER busy rn now so i don't want to bother them

i've been volunteering for the parks system the next county over and it has been awesome! i haven't told any of the people about the jw stuff and my mom hasn't joined me so they all just know me as an awkward homeschooled kid! i'm terrified of mom or dad telling them about being jehovah's witnesses and ruining what i have going. this is my only connection to the outside world since none of my job applications have gone anywhere and if i lose it...

speaking of the job stuff, i got told that the parks director might want to hire me!!!! most of the jobs available want you to have a drivers license and i'm waiting to get mine till i turn 18 (only 4 months till then btw) so we don't have to pay for classes cause its like 500 dollars.

i have a part tonight. i'm sick of this. i wasted several hours of my life working on it. the worst thing is, well the two worst things ig are 1: i am really proud of how good it is and 2: i'm looking forward to maybe being told that i did good. the last talk i did the chairman said i did 'incredible'. he said it from the stage and i really liked it. i hate that i liked it.

i hate all i have to do to keep up the appearance of being a good jehovah's witness. i hate doing service three to four times a week and doing my bible reading -actually i kind of enjoy the studying but i hate that i have to do it to avoid suspicion- and i hate having to be "neutral" and i hate having to pretend to agree with everyone's political views despite the fact that we are supposed to stay neutral! LIKE NO MR. BROTHER MAN I DONT GIVE A SINGULAR SHIT ABOUT WHOS IN OFFICE RIGHT NOW BECAUSE IM NOT FREAKING SUPPOSED TO!!!!!!! i hate that i seem to be the only one acting the way jehovah's witnesses are supposed to when i don't even believe this stuff.

there was a bible study, we'll call them R, who started coming to the congregation my family goes to and mom got really attached to them. then R blocked the person studying with them, my mom and numerous other people. I never got their phone number. R stopped their study. my mom cried alot about it. i had to pretend to be sad but in reality i was so freaking happy. they had just graduated high school and they had short cut purple hair and lots of ear piercings and they did marching band. they gave such gay vibes but i have no idea if they are. we ran into R at the grocery store after the meeting a few weeks ago and they were polite as was mom. mom avoided saying anything about the meeting to make us seem more approachable i guess? thats how she explained it later to me in the car. mom waited until we had walked far enough away and then hugged me, hard, when she pulled away her eyes were wet and i felt like a piece of shit for not caring about what had upset her.

i have a car, my aunt moved across the world to be a need-greater and she gave it to me. i'm paying her back by selling some stuff for her.

i don't like myself. i inherited both my parents anger. i feels like the anger twisted together to create a person whose muscle fibers and bones are made solely from hatred, hatred for others, hatred for myself, hatred for life and for death. hatred for almost everything. i don't want to be shunned by my family. i love my family just as much as i hate them. they are everything to me but i can't live in this awful religion forever. i can't serve a god i despise for my whole life. i can't tell people they will see the people they love alive again when i don't believe it. i can't pretend to agree with the hatred this organization is practically weaved with. im so fucking scared. i'm scared of my family hating me, of my mom, dad, little sisters and little brother not talking to me again. i know my dads not going to live for more then a decade. he has so many health problems. i hate that at his funeral i most likely will not be able to talk to anyone, i know that i will be disfellowshipped once i leave. i'm queer and planning on committing so much "serious sin" and i'm not going to be sorry, not one fucking bit.

i would kms if i wasn't such a coward

[bonitanightmxres]

while we lasted (pt. 3) || b. bradshaw

bradley ‘rooster’ bradshaw x mitchell!fem!reader

warnings: angsty-ish, language, kinda fluffy if you look hard enough

synopsis: at the height of your separation, you grow to accept your predicament, while bradley finally comes to his senses.

length: 2.5k

a/n: thank you guys for showing this series love! really makes me happy, especially after not posting original works for a long time!🥹

part 1 | part 2 |

When you confessed everything to Maverick that morning, you felt as though you could finally breathe again, that you could finally look your dad in the eye after weeks of not telling him the truth. Despite the hurt you were still reeling from with the separation, something about coming clean with Maverick made the whole thing a lot easier, especially as he held you while you cried.

Something about his motivational pep talks seemed to work like magic too, even while you were growing up. At eleven, he’d taught you the importance of loving yourself when the other, skinnier girls made fun of you for your obvious developments. When you were eighteen and shunned by your peers for refusing to give into their pressure and drink, Maverick simply said that you were a special kind of young girl—the kind who’d go far in life for sticking to her beliefs. Now, as a full grown woman, it almost seemed funny to be confiding in him over something that seemed like silly boy trouble. Only, it wasn’t so silly to you—this was Bradley. This was your first and only serious relationship you’d had and it’d gotten wrecked so badly. Still, despite all that, Maverick found a way with words to ease your heartache.

So, for the first time in almost two months, you felt strong and confident. You’d worked up the courage to drive around, feeling the oceanside breeze through your hair, and start apartment-hunting. You couldn’t live with Maverick forever, though you were sure he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea. But you’d noticed he was spending a little more time than normal with Penny Benjamin, and the idea of accidentally catching them together because Maverick wasn’t used to having you home made you shudder. No way you were going through that again. The first and only time it’d happened was on a typical weekend when you were thirteen. Maverick had gone out the night before, and you planned to stay at a friend’s house. But when your plans crumbled, you spent the night in your room. The next morning, Maverick had slept in particularly late, so you decided to wake him up with a bucket of ice water. Only, when you tossed it on his bed, a blonde woman shot up from under the covers, completely naked and screamed bloody murder. Maverick sprinted out of the bathroom, and fought hard to suppress his laughter when he saw you covering your eyes. Needless to say, there was never any miscommunication after that—and you never woke him up with ice water again.

Throughout the afternoon, you toured various apartment buildings in the city. Some were beautiful with gorgeous views of the ocean and spacious kitchens for family gatherings, and others... well, not so much. There was always something. Too much of this, too little of that, a little bit cramped here or there. Not quite exactly what you wanted, so you looked harder. After what seemed like hours, you grew weary and tired of looking—until you found the one. It sat right on the oceanfront, facing the sun, and the view displayed stunning hues of orange and pink in the sky as the sun began to fall. An island in the middle of the kitchen was big enough so that you could probably host Thanksgiving there if you wanted, though it would likely just be you and Maverick… and probably Penny and her daughter. Still, to say the apartment was perfect was an understatement. As luck would have it, the paperwork and everything else was in order and you could begin to move in as early as the next day, but when the building owner asked if you wanted to sign the papers now and make it official, all you said was, “I’ll think about it,” and left.

You’d gone straight back to Maverick’s, expecting to tell him of the day’s almost-successful events, but when you didn’t see his car in the driveway, you were only slightly relieved that you had extra time before having to tell him eventually. The sunset’s colors grew deeper, painting the sky brighter as purple began to fade in, and even the moon started to say hello. With one last thought of “fuck it”, you ran into the garage, gathering the few supplies you needed and quickly changed your clothes, packing a small bag along with you. It was kind of a rare occurrence that you had a moment to yourself since moving in with Maverick. Sure, he’d gone into work and you’d stay home, but even then, your sorrow kept you company.

After arriving at your typical beach spot, you hauled your large beach chair and bag out of the car. The sand nearly buried your feet as you walked along the beach, setting up. Normally, setting up a bonfire was a two-person job for you; hell, it was a two-person activity to enjoy it too, but tonight, you had to make do with what you had. And that was okay. Even though the summer season had barely begun, the nights still got cold, especially next to the water. You searched for the hoodie you know you brought with, just to add onto the cozy warmth of the fire. And your heart sinks when you realize you brought the wrong one. Bradley’s deep blue Navy hoodie almost felt foreign in your fingers after so long; it must’ve gotten mixed up in your drawers when you emptied them out that day. You ran your fingers over the back of it, where it read “BRADSHAW”, and you know you shouldn’t have done it, but you did it anyway—you held the garment up to your nose, inhaling deeply to test your theory.

Yup, it still smelled like him. A mix of sunscreen and the salty ocean along with his cologne had clearly made their home into the fibers of the hoodie. Everything is telling you to put it back, and just enjoy the chill in the air, but you can’t help it—you slip it over your head, practically drowning in how large it is; it hangs over your shorts like a dress. When you’re finally ready to lay back, the sky had already grown dark, stars sprinkling the sky, and the moon in full. The flames crackle and illuminate the beach, and combined with the crashing of the ocean’s waves, soothe you like a natural lullaby. 

Maybe it was the peace you found thanks to Maverick’s speeches about learning to accept things we can’t control, or maybe it was the serenity you found in the moment of being surrounded by a beautiful night sky and the ocean—whatever it was, you finally started to feel okay. Like things would fall back into place again. You could already see it: holidays with Maverick and Penny—plus Amelia, of course—, finding a career to settle down with, or maybe go back to school and figure something else out. The future seemed exciting and hopeful. And hope had not been part of your life for a while.

“Thought I’d find you here,” A voice called out from behind you, making you jump a little. The piercingly loud squeak of the small, older, and probably dirty beach chair as it opened a few feet away from you disrupted the tranquility. When Bradley sat down in it, he looked a little ridiculous, being a tall and muscular man sitting in a small chair of such terrible quality. “Don’t you know bonfires are a two-person affair?”

Sinking back into your seat, you continue listening to the sounds of the ocean. Part of you wanted nothing more than to just climb over and hug him and cry and apologize, but you held back. A few weeks ago, you would’ve done so. You probably would’ve made a fool out of yourself in the process, but right now? There were no tears left, there was no more pain that you could possibly feel. “How’d you know where to find me?”

He shrugged from the corner of your eye, “Mav said something about I’d know where you’d be.”

“Oh. So you’re on talking terms again?”

“Something like that.”

“Oh.”

There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to apologize for; if he hadn’t been the stubborn ass he knew he was, you two could’ve been enjoying a bonfire so long ago. But as he sat there next to you, watching your beautiful face light up underneath the dancing flames, he couldn’t find the right words. Under normal circumstances, this would’ve been a memorable moment. The only thing that would’ve made it perfect was if he was closer to you, wrapping his arm around you like he’d always done. Sometimes he would ‘accidentally’ leave one of the chairs at home and bring the bigger one you sat on now because it could fit both of you, just so he had an excuse to be touching you. He knew you saw right through that scheme, but you went right along with it anyway. Thinking about it made a grin creep onto his face. So lost in thought and memory, he hadn’t really paid attention to what you said after. ���Sorry, what?”

“I asked if my dad told you I was apartment-hunting. Y’know, since he seems to be telling you things now.” You turned to Bradley for the first time that night since he’d arrived, and you could clearly see the aching pain he’d been going through—you saw it every time you looked in the mirror. His hair was a little disheveled, and looked a little thinner since the last time you saw him, and his eyes were dark and heavy—you hadn’t seen his eyes so full of sorrow since Carole’s funeral.

He shook his head, “Find one you like?”

“I did,” you admitted, and you could see him clench his jaw, a thing he only did when he was either angry or trying to seem tough. You couldn’t really tell which one he was trying to pass off. “Pretty kitchen, nice view of the beach. Nice living room too. Owner said I could move in tomorrow if I wanted.”

Bradley’s head hung low, “Do you-uh-need any help moving?”

You rolled your eyes, “The owner said I could move in tomorrow if I wanted.”

“I-I know, I heard you the first time.” His brows knitted together in confusion. “I’m asking if you want help movi—”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Groaning dramatically in frustration, you quickly sat up and swung your legs to the side of the chair so that you faced Bradley. “I don’t want to move, I don’t want to go anywhere!”

“But I-I thought… why are you looking at apartments then?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Bradley.” you stood up quickly, almost making yourself dizzy. All of a sudden you felt hot, and you couldn’t tell if it was from the fire or the anger that began to boil inside you. You pulled at the hoodie, trying to lift it off your body, but the more you pulled, the more it seemed to trap you, and the angrier you became. Muttering curses under your breath, the stupid thing finally came over your head and you threw it at Bradley, who was now standing only a couple feet away, afraid to approach you. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, walking slowly in your direction. “Baby, please, I-”

“Don’t you ‘baby’ me,” you scoffed. “It’s not fair.” 

“Please,” he began, extending his arm out to touch your shoulder. He was surprised you didn’t shake him off, but he took it as an opportunity. “I know why you did it. Mav told me the truth.”

“So the big, bad secret’s out, huh?” You said as your eyes met his, your shoulder tingling where his hand touched the bare skin of your shoulder. 

Bradley nodded. “Thank you.” 

“For what?” 

“Protecting my mom,” he said. “I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been for you to keep it from me, so thank you.” 

“I didn’t do it for you. I did it for Carole. I couldn’t bear the thought of you being mad at her. Rather you be mad at me instead.”

You didn’t know it, but Bradley didn’t think his heart could break even more until you said that. He loved his parents more than anything or anyone—until he discovered his feelings for you all those years ago. And for you to play the martyr, just so he kept thinking highly of his mom, killed him inside. Placing his hands on either side of your face, he leaned down so that your foreheads touched. “Please, come back home,” he said in a low voice. “I need you. I don’t know how I'm supposed to keep going when the love of my life isn't waking up next to me.”

“You still love me?” you practically whispered.

“I never stopped.” 

Your lips were dangerously close to Bradley’s, and his eyes couldn't help but linger on the sight of them. He didn't understand that the way they were still rosy underneath the night sky and a little chapped somehow made him fall deeper in love. You could tell he was still afraid to make a move, desperate to avoid ruining the moment. Taking initiative, you press your lips softly against his, and he responds eagerly like a man starved. The only reason he pulls away is because he feels you shiver. The fire you’d built was only really big enough for one person, and the flames no longer danced brightly as they had when you first built it; instead, they mellowed out, and provided only slight warmth. 

“Sorry I threw your hoodie at you,” you apologized. “Can I wear it again?” 

Bradley laughs as he tosses it back to you, watching you shimmy your way back into it again. “Baby, it was never mine. Not after it found its way into your side of the dresser.”

As you wrapped your arms around Bradley’s waist, he pressed a kiss to the top of your head before engulfing you in a hug. He squeezed you tightly, afraid that if he let go, he’d lose you again. Bradley could’ve stayed like that forever, holding you beneath the stars, listening to the waves; but he also knew you, so he wasn’t offended when you climbed back onto the giant beach chair because your legs were getting tired from standing there in the cool ocean breeze. 

“Got any extra room on there?” He asked.

You pat your hand on the empty space next to you, “Always.”

With a stupidly wide grin on his face, Bradley wasted no time in sliding next to you, and holding you against him. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest as he breathed soothed you better than the crashing waves or crackling fire. Glancing up at Bradley, you had a hard time believing that after all the suffering, here you you both were again, like nothing had ever happened. You placed a gentle kiss on his jaw, earning a sly smile from him; and you stayed together like that until the fire died. 

Then Bradley lit another one, refusing to let the moment die.

And all was right in the world again because deep down, both of you knew that the love you shared would last forever.

[oatmealcrisp-freak]

I might change a few things in here too, like adding more Kumi scenes, but here's what we got so far <3

Shun was trying his best not to quail at the number of things in the shopping cart. In addition to their Halloween supplies, Saiki had loaded him up to. He had a new wardrobe of basics that actually fit him now, including a winter coat and boots that didn’t have holes in them. His own soaps. A new toothbrush and tooth paste. Saiki had needed to get a new toothbrush holder that had room for more than one.

Shun had needed to excuse himself to the bathroom for a few minutes to have a good cry at that last one. If Saiki noticed his red eyes and blotchy face, which he surely had, he didn’t say anything.

Shun really appreciated that.

He thought he was doing a good job holding up, considering, even though he was getting a bit dizzy from all this walking. But they were almost done.

There was just one more thing left.

“So I know that it’s probably only gonna be the two of us,” Shun looked at Saiki to confirm.

He did with a nod.

Yeah, his aloof and hard to befriend highschool friend was still that, wasn’t he? Heh. Figured.

“But do you, like.” He shifted nervously from foot to foot. “Wanna do costumes too?”

It was making him remember the better days, where he’d been a bit better. A better big brother, a better first son. He’d thrown a Halloween party and nobody had come in a costume. Or Hairo and Aren had tried.

He’d been a mess even then. He’d cried and sulked in his coffin rental. But he’d gotten over himself after hallucinating a monster, and they’d all had a good laugh, and gave out candy and watched movies and had just hung out.

Really, it was a miracle Shun even had friends to begin with.

But somehow, he did.

He still did.

Saiki had made no costume attempts in highschool. He’d always just been there for the candy. But.

Shun smiled a little. “I can paint your face again.”

Saiki snorted at that, and finally the edges of his mouth upticked into a little smile. 

“Sure,” He said, and together they turned into the costume section.

☆ヾ(*´・∀・)ﾉヾ(・∀・`*)ﾉ☆

The weather had taken a turn for the cold and his previously overgrown garden had seemed to give up the guff of growing at all.

Kusuo sighed out a breath and rubbed at his forehead as he surveyed the pile of tomato plants he’d just gotten done pulling out. He still had some squashes and gourds that were putting up a good fight against the cold, so those he left, but the cabbage, broccoli, tomatoes, cucumbers, radish, beets, and herbs were definitely done for the season.

It’d been a good season. His fastidious gardening had helped his grocery bill out a lot, and his friends and family’s too, even if everyone was getting kind of sick of zucchini.

‘That’s the last of it for the produce,’ He thought, lifting his hands and waving them over to his compost pile. ‘Now it’s just the fertilizer and mulch, I believe.’

It was sunny, even if it was getting a bit chilly.

If Kusuo’s company stayed for longer, he’d have to check the local bylaws on personal fires.

Shun would definitely appreciate smores.

He gathered the mulch and fertilizer from his shed, stacking the four unopened bags on his shoulder. They were light, at 30KGs a piece, so it was no struggle.

‘And after that I should trim my hedges and trees,’ He thought. He’d already pulled up and put to compost his wilted flowers. ‘Rake after that, of course.’

Kusuo could get this all done in about two minutes if he chose to, probably sooner if he rushed it. His entire yard, front and back, wouldn’t require him to lift a finger.

If Shun hadn’t been here, he’d surely have to.

But truthfully, Kusuo preferred tending to his home with his hands. The work felt good. Pulling the plants with his fingers and his spade, turning the soil to spread the nutrients, spreading the fertilizer then the woodchips over the most delicate of the lot. His roses, for example, would certainly need the insulation.

It helped him feel normal. And at peace, somehow. One. Connected. Underneath the vibrant expanse of blue sky with his fingers in the soil was one of the rare times he got to feeling halfway spiritual.

He set the bags down on the grass and turned around. His front yard was much smaller than the back, with a hedge of pine blocking it off from the driveway and roses along the front retaining wall, and was where he had the bulk of his personal seating area. The back yard and deck were for work. That’s where he hung his laundry and tended to his food.

His front yard was for relaxing.

Hence, the outrageous number of flowers. Kusuo didn’t consider himself a frilly sort of person, but he wasn’t above being swayed by things that smelled sweet.

Not to mention, they attracted pollinators, which his food required. Bwahaha. It was the perfect trap.

‘The grass is getting long,’ He thought, kicking at the ground. ‘I’ll do that after I rake, then.’

If he was smiling, well, it was his yard. He was allowed to. Because Kusuo wouldn’t lie.

He was proud of his home.

He turned to his hanging baskets, floating up to retrieve them. They were dried and brown, but some few determined blooms remained. As he usually did this time of year, he twiddled one, and debated whether or not he should do anything with them.

“Hey Kusuo! Look!”

Kusuo turned around to find Shun grinning up at him. Kumi was slung to his front, and he thrust forward his hand to show Kusuo his prize.

“Isn’t it pretty?”

‘It’ was a leaf. Kusuo looked at it for a moment. 

He didn’t usually pay attention to leaves.

Kusuo decided it was.

He smiled, and nodded.

“It is.”

“We should keep it,” Shun said.

Kusuo blinked. Keep it? No, it’d only dry and crumble and attract spiders, but-

“You could press it,” Shun hung it in the front of the wrap and smiled at Kumi. “And add it to Kumi’s baby book”

Kusuo blinked once, twice, then a third time and looked at the basket he was holding.

Yes.

Pressing plant matter for decoration and keepsakes, that was something people did, wasn’t it?

That was perfect.

It was Kumi’s first year. She’d like them when she got older, probably.

“Good idea, Shun.” He looked back at the man on the ground. “Thank you.”

“So when’s Akechi getting here?”

Kusuo let the basket drift down to the table, already moving to the next. “Couple days. He just needs to wrap up a story he’s working on in Hokkaido.”

“Is he still, uh.” Shun faltered.

“Yes.”

Shun laughed a bit. “I wonder how Kumi’ll adjust, you’re a bit quiet!”

“It’ll be good for her.” Kusuo paused and eyed his pansies. “I hope.”

Then he looked at the other man and arched a brow. “But he’s not staying here, he’ll be in town. At least there’s that.”

“From what I remember,” Shun hummed. “He’s a guy that’s, uh. Good in small doses.”

“Only when he’s trying to intimidate you. It’ll be okay. He is considerate.”

“...Right. Right, yeah, no, that makes sense. I don’t think you’d befriend anyone who wasn’t a good person.”

Kusuo shrugged. He could try.

“What about Aiura?”

“She said she’d work it out with her manager and get back to me.” Kusuo snorted. “So I’ll give it five days then unblock her.”

“Blew up your phone, eh?”

Mikoto was the type of person who texted via a stream of consciousness, which was to say, the moment she’d been reminded of his existence he’d gotten treated to a tangent of notifications.

Kusuo wouldn’t exactly call that being blown up but, “Yes.” 

Only because ‘being blown up’ didn’t cover the scope.

He wouldn’t say that out loud though. Mikoto was good people.

“What about Toritsuk-”

“No.”

Kusuo cleared his throat a little. “ I mean. He’s busy.”

“Ah. Yes. Alright.”

“Yeah.”

He worked in silence for a moment before Shun’s brain lit up in an idea.

“Oh! I know!” 

Shun’s jubilance made him look at the man automatically, and found him bouncing on his toes. Not for the first time, Kusuo remembered what Shun’s guardian spirit was, and had to hide his smirk.

Shun’s eyes glittered with excitement. “What if we throw a Halloween party! Like a reunion, and also everyone can meet Kumi that way, and, well, it’s just October first, so that’ll give us lots of time to get it arranged and stuff.”

Kusuo blinked.

Huh.

It was October, wasn’t it? With Kumi, he’d completely forgotten-

Kusuo dropped to the ground in a second and was grabbing Shun’s shoulders the next.

“Baby Halloween costumes.”

Shun gasped, his jaw dropped. A fiendish light blazed to life in his red eyes, making his friend look particularly hellish as a toothy grin took over his face.

“Baby Halloween costumes,” Shun breathed.

As one they turned and ran into the house.

(Kusuo beat Shun by an entire kilometre.)

Fertiliser and woodchips could wait.

‘Maybe I should get a car,’ Kusuo thought ten minutes later as he squinted at the bus schedule.

The next one wasn’t for another hour.

“Maybe you should get a car,” Shun sighed.

“Maybe I should,” Kusuo agreed.

After all, teleporting was off limits for babies. She’d held up fine with interdimensional transit in the womb apparently but Kusuo couldn’t help but be paranoid. No. No teleporting for Kumi until she was at minimum five years old, maybe even ten depending on her mental development. Likewise, Kumi hadn’t been exposed to his finagling in the human genome in this universe, or Kusuo was pretty sure he’d only done that in this universe, he…didn’t want to think about that. Anyways, he didn’t know if she could actually stand up to the G-Forces and the like that the humans in this universe could. He’d have to do something about that eventually, otherwise life would only be extra dangerous for her, but he wanted to follow her natural growth as closely as he could.

After all, her mother wasn’t exactly normal either, and her father. Well. Kusuo hadn’t seen him in the prayers that’d gone into the coffee jelly cup, so he couldn’t be sure. He had his suspicions but still couldn’t help the intense paranoia.

Especially after the other day.

When he saw Mikoto again, he’d just have to ask her. Even after all this time, she far outstripped him in her accuracy. 

“In the meantime,” The phone came to his hand. “We’re gonna get a taxi.”

They were not waiting forty five minutes to take a long ass drive into town to play dress up with Kumi for HER FIRST HALLOWEEN. Hell no. This was right up there with his sweet tooth, Kusuo would not be abiding delay.

“Whoohoo!” Shun shouted. “Taxi!”

☆ヾ(*´・∀・)ﾉヾ(・∀・`*)ﾉ☆

So on one hand, Shun was always excited to dress up, and he was surrounded by costumes on all sides. His cosplay budget was gone, and with school being what it was he hadn’t been able to enjoy it while he’d still had it, not for a couple years anyway. School had taken up so much of his time that he’d barely been able to keep up with his friends, nevermind write or play or design or sew or fabricate armour or, well, anything.

Looking back on it, not having that outlet had probably been what’d done it, honestly. It’d been the nail in his coffin.

So to say he was vibrating in excitement for himself personally was an understatement.

However.

He’d never in his life been able to play dress up with Saiki. Painting blood on his face was the closest he’d ever gotten. This was an opportunity to be seized with both hands. He had to get it right. He had to get it perfect.

“No, not this one. No, no. No. Mmn too furry. No, your glasses. No. No. No. No!”

He had to get it right, he couldn’t let this down, he couldn’t fail, he had to-

“Hey.” Saiki was looking at a werewolf costume. “What about this one-”

Shun snatched it from his hands and told him, “No!”

And then he paused. And then he felt himself begin to shake.

He drew the bag in slowly, holding it to his chest. Inside, his heart must’ve been breaking the sound barrier it was going so fast cus that was all he could hear was it booming.

“Hey.”

Shun did his best to breathe.

A hand settled on his shoulder. Saiki ducked into his vision.

He actually looked concerned.

“Hey. Kaidou. Look at me.”

Desperate to get it right, Shun looked at him. 

Saiki smiled. Or tried to. Maybe. He looked a bit too freaked out in his subtle way for it to really appreciate, though.

“This doesn’t need to be perfect.”

Shun stared. Saiki swallowed.

He said next, “But thank you for thinking of me, okay?”

That sounded like rejection.

“Did I,” Shun swallowed. “Did I get it wro-”

“No.”

Saiki shook his head. He took the werewolf costume back and hung it on the hook it’d come from.

“It’s only Halloween. There’s no failing grade.”

Saiki looked back at him. “Okay?”

There’s no failing grade.

“There’s.” Shun blinked. “No failing grade?”

Not for Halloween.

Oh.

He looked at his feet.

Of course.

His priorities. Somehow he’d gotten them all confused. Everything felt so life or death now. Shun looked back up. “I’m sorry-”

But Saiki shook his head. Then he pulled a witch costume down, looked at it, and looked at Shun and asked, “What about this one?”

Shun blinked at it. A witch? Saiki? Then he paused and considered that. Squinted.

Said, “It’s a bit,” He mimed like he was Pinnochio. “Isn’t it?”

That’d interfere with Saiki’s glasses, nevermind, uh, other connotations.

Saiki looked at it, nodded, and put it back. He grabbed an angel costume next. It was still a dress. Shun was pretty sure Saiki was deliberately trying to be goofy right now in his own off-kilter way, but honestly?

He laughed. “Now that one suits you.”

Saiki blinked, squinted at him, then squinted at the dress. He looked like he didn’t believe it. Maybe cus he was such a grump he thought it didn’t suit him, but it did.

Shun, dressed in his borrowed clothing, looking at a full cart of soon to be his belongings and things bought expressly to cheer him up where otherwise he knew Saiki wouldn’t care, knew it to be true.

Facts were facts.

Saiki shrugged and threw it into the cart anyway. “Your turn.”

Shun blinked. “Wait, you’re really gonna get it?”

“Yeah, why not.”

“Oh. Uh. Right. Hm. Oh, I could reprise dracula? Haha, or I could be a devil to suit your angel!”

The devil costumes had more range than the angel ones. There was a dress, a body suit, and a tux looking outfit with a voluptuous looking cape, and of course devil horns and a tail.

Shun did like capes.

Saiki grabbed the one with the cape and dropped it in the cart, then made to leave.

“But that’s the more-” Shun stuffed his voice back into his throat.

Saiki looked back at him, raised an eyebrow.

Shun swallowed and glanced at the price tags, remembered how many times Saiki had told him not to worry about it, and dragged in a deep breath.

“We should try them on to make sure they fit,” He said instead.

Saiki, who’d been about to turn out the exit, blinked. Said, “Ah.” And nodded. 

‘Wait. Did he seriously not think about that?’ Shun looked at the costumes and rifled through until he found the small for him, then the extra large of the angel costume just in case. It was a dress after all. Saiki would probably have to size up. 

Except he hadn’t even thought of it.

‘Weird.’  Saiki had said he didn’t know the first thing about Halloween. Shun just hadn’t expected that to extend to shopping for clothes, either. His friend had always seemed competent in that. But maybe Halloween was tripping him up? Well. Whatever. Shun shrugged it off.

One, wasn’t his business.

Two, that’s why he was here!

“Onwards, ho!” 

“Ho,” Saiki agreed, and together they made for the changing rooms.

☆ヾ(*´・∀・)ﾉヾ(・∀・`*)ﾉ☆

“Aaahhh!” Mikoto squealed. “Oh my goodness lookitchu, oh look those cheeks, I canNOT believe you legitskies found her out in the rain.”

Then Mikoto paused, and snickered. “I’m also lovin the matching fits.”

“I’m not.” Shun huffed. “Kusuo, you’ve had that costume for years.”

Kusuo frowned. “Why is that a problem?”

With his time restore powers, this thing was practically brand new. And it hadn’t exactly been cheap, either. 

Mikoto shook her head.

She was a leopard. Catsuit, coat, cat ears, a tail, makeup and thigh high boots that Kusuo was trying very hard not to freak out over because she was wearing shoes passed his entryway, inside his home, and but they were clean, she’d swapped them in from a pair of flat soled galoshes in his foyer, so it was just habit making him have an internal tizzy about it. 

“Some things never change, bro. Kusuo’s always been a massive cheapskate. If he had to buy a wedding dress, he’d probably wear it every day just to get his money out of it.”

Kusuo frowned deeper. He would. He was glad that was at least twenty years off for Kumi, hopefully more, because he would. 

Shun snorted, and the action made the visor on his helmet fall down on his finger, making him squawk. On account of he was a knight. In armour he’d made himself. Which was precisely why Kusuo had recommended him to Good Smile. His cosplay had suited him uniquely to crafting objects in 3D, even if neither Shun nor his mom had ever considered it a viable skill before.

Made Kusuo want to shake his head. He hoped he’d be better for Kumi. But he couldn’t imagine a thing she’d do that’d make him throw her out in the cold, even after she grew up and stopped being a carryable and adorable baby. Granted, for months he’d been worrying over giving her to a family better suited to her, but that’d hardly make her homeless. The threat of her eventual potential homelessness was what’d forced his hand!

What Mrs. Kaidou had been thinking, Kusuo genuinely couldn’t parse.

But he’d said his piece.

Vociferously.

It made him want to smile, remembering it, but he wouldn’t. He didn’t want to scare anyone. Yet.

“Anyways, thank you.” Kusuo looked down at her and smiled. She was gaping at Mikoto’s face.

Mikoto saw and instantly started playing peek-a-boo. The expression Kumi always made when peek-a-boo happened was a killer, he was glad Mikoto got to enjoy it. Especially with her dressed up as a little angel.

Ironic. Her temperament wasn’t exactly angelic unless she was sleeping.

But with a bit of help, it was easier to be separated from it, and not take it so personally as an indicator of his failings as a parent that. Funny that. Kusuo hadn’t even realised he could take something personally.

He looked at the clock. “Here,” He said, and plunked Kumi into Mikoto’s arms. “Get to know her for a few minutes. I’m gonna get the pumpkins ready.”

“Oh shoot yeah, it’s about time for everyone else to start showing up, isn’t it?” Shun said, and was answered by the doorbell.

Kusuo gave Shun a frown. “You said it, you get it.”

“Hah! Yeah, yeah.”

Mikoto followed him out. “Y’know. Not to be a total bummer on you or nothing, but it’s sorta hard to believe that you did all this yourself. You’ve never been the keener type.”

“I’m a keener when it comes to being a cheapskate.”

Mikoto sent him a look. “Don’t harsh yaself either, babe. You and me both know that maintaining a garden isn’t cheap, on either the wallet or the internal resources. There’s a reason lots of people have to get their produce from the store. You’ve put a ton of work into this place, shit’s obvi AF, don’t sell yourself short.”

She had him there. Kusuo sighed, and looked down at his pumpkins.

Fortunately he had four that were grown enough for the activities.

“I moved up here for a reason. It. Gives me more resources. Honestly I’m still a cheapskate.”

He cranked a vine and it gave a green smelling snap.

“I don’t have a lot of energy, never have. But up here there’s less strain on my powers so.” He shrugged and stood with the pumpkin. “I have more.”

Mikoto breathed a gasp of understanding. “Your telepathy…”

Kusuo couldn’t help but give her a little dry smile. “And my parents.”

At that Mikoto gave a brief laugh and shook her head. Kusuo took that moment to study her. Boots aside, she wasn’t that much taller. But she did look a bit older. It was interesting to see the way that she’d matured since highschool. Of course some things never changed. Instead of sparkly stickers, she had sparkly gems, and sparkly eyeliner. She still dropped slang, but not as much of it. Her hair was even curlier, but shorter, because now she had to stuff it into helmets. She’d spray painted polka dots into it. She was a racer with an incredibly successful career. She still asked him to marry her sometimes, mostly as a joke, but with her career at the forefront for the last long while, they’d actually barely spoken.

He hated to say it, so he wouldn’t, but he’d missed her.

She looked good.

“I guess that makes sense.”

“Besides, it’s not just my grocery bills.”

Mikoto squawked as a zucchini almost beaned her in the head but she managed to catch it and blinked at it in confusion. Kusuo (who never would have allowed her to drop it anyway since she was holding Kumi) smirked. 

“Take it and be grateful.”

“Hah! Okay Mr. I Help Noone But Myself.”

“I am helping myself. Groceries are expensive. This way I don’t have to listen to people whine. Plus.”

Kusuo spread his arms, his wings spreading with them, and allowed his eyes to glow as he smiled. 

“Everyone is going home with a zucchini.” He chuckled a little bit. “Everyone.”

Mikoto blinked.

She looked down at the zucchini in her hand. 

She looked back at him, and her jaw dropped.

“You fiend.”

“That’s right.” Kusuo swept a hand in the direction of his garden, his chuckle thrumming up from the earth itself. “This party isn’t only so people can get to know Kumi. It’s also-”

Mikoto shook her fistful of veggie at him like she was shaking her fist at God. “To load everyone down with your damn zucchini!”

Kusuo threw back his head and laughed. 

And then he accidentally dropped the pumpkin on his foot because he got too distracted being evil and dramatic. “AH! Shiiiiiiooooooopumpkin.”

“I haven’t heard that expletive before. I’ll add that to my lexicon. Thanks babe.”

“I don’t wanna swear around Kumi.”

“Is the pumpkin okay?”

A sharp sigh. “No. But that’s fine.”

Kusuo waved his hand and the pumpkin restored itself, and he bent over and picked it up, then moved to snap the next one off the vine.

“How many zucchini do you want?”

“Uhm. I’ll stick with the one, thanks. I aint fallin into that trap, boo.”

“Tch. Good grief. Fine.”

[myysaints]

hello there! can you maybe write a fic with draco malfoy where they’re dating and trying to study together but he keeps holding her hand and distracting her?

distracted (d.m.)

draco malfoy x reader

summary: you and draco have a “study” date - though draco has other plans

contains: fluff!!!

notes: thank you for the adorable req anon!!! hope i did it justice <;33

masterlist

Everyone knows that Hogwarts is far from peaceful and quiet.

People mill about in the corridors, hordes of students loiter around the classrooms before lessons, chatter and laughter flood the common rooms. You’d expect the library to be an exception to this - after all, it is a library. Peace and quiet is what it’s known for.

Yet here you sit, unable to focus on your Charms essay in front of you, too busy trying to ignore none other than Draco Malfoy’s fidgeting from beside you.

“Please, Draco, I’m begging you, will you please try to stay still?” You whisper, groaning frustratedly as you put your quill down for the umpteenth time this study session.

Well, you wouldn’t quite call this a “study session” - Draco had been the one to propose the idea of a study date, and knowing him, you should have expected that he’d have his heart set on pestering you rather than plain studying. But naively, you complied (though only after hours and hours of your boyfriend whining that he never got to spend enough time with you).

The blond beside you smirks, chuckling lowly at the tinge of desperation in your voice. It’s cute, really, watching you slowly lose your patience with him. Draco is no fool; He knows that his constant shifting around and mindless humming only serves to rile you up. And that’s exactly his intention.

You’ve been so dead set on studying these days - What with OWLs looming, you’ve descended into a near zombie-like cycle, one which comprises of you going to class, going back to your dorm to work on homework, consulting your teachers, preparing for the tests, going to bed, and doing it all over again. Leaving little no time for you to spend with him.

Yes, it is a little cruel to take advantage of your relentless drive to study just to worm his way into your schedule. But can you really blame him? He just wants some much-needed and much-appreciated time with his girlfriend, thank you very much.

“Just trying t’get comfortable,” he murmurs, smiling softly at you. “C’mon. You’ve been studying so hard, Merlin knows y’need a break.”

The look on his face - so tender and loving - nearly convinces you to put down your quill and essay altogether and get up and leave; But you force yourself to huff and shake your head, determinedly returning your focus to your textbook.

This deprivation of attention has Draco quietly grumbling, sighing dramatically to himself about how “Cruel and cold” you were being towards him, how you had “Shunned his love and affection” all for the “nonsensical reasons of getting good grades”.

“Alright, alright, you fuss sport,” you sigh, a smile creeping onto your face, “You win.”

The way his face lights up would almost have you assuming that he’d just received the best news of his life - Like receiving a signed broomstick from Krum, or getting a highly-coveted ministry job, or something of the like. But no, all you’d done was give in to his pressing.

He presses a firm kiss to your cheek, one that has you flustered and blushing as you shove him playfully. He pulls away, taking immense delight in the way you try to hide your heating cheeks.

“We’ll leave, but only after I finish this paragraph,” you tut, turning away with a sly grin as he splutters in askance.

“That wasn’t part of our deal!”

“What deal? I don’t recall making a deal.”

“But you… You said I won!”

You giggle, this time being the one who leans over and pecks him on the cheek. He seems to mellow at that, sighing in exaggerated and mock defeat as he slips his hand into yours.

“Fine. You're lucky you look adorable when you're focused."

[sundownintheparisoftheprairies]

This is dedicated to @draw-a-circle-thats-the-foxhole who has helped me immeasurably find self worth of my crazy mind. I hate this work but i got it done and boy was it hard.

Ch:1

Matthew did not want to wake up.

 The bed was warm and soft, a safe place he could hide away from the world above the quilts. He wasn’t yelled at here or shunned for the way he talked. He wasn’t expected to do anything but rest. and rest he did but he also laughed and read the books Alfred hid under his nightclothes only to come out after father had sent them to sleep, Alfred sneaking into Matthews bed and reading whatever had been nicked from the study this time. 

This morning was cold and colder still that Alfred had long since been up, leaving Matthew with just Blankets and the book on herbs they had read last night. 

It was the first night Matthew had stayed in England. Father had decided he was fit enough to make the journey Across the ocean and stay there instead of the small house outside of Boston he had been recovering in with his brother the past few years. 

This house was much bigger, had more rooms and reminded him of Versailles. He hated Versailles and getting out of bed meant finding his way down to breakfast, that thought scared him. 

The admission that the house made him scared, and that he was terrified of running into the servants or worse father was pathetic.

He was pathetic. Pathetic and useless and a waste of money. 

The knowledge that it was his fault for being in this house stabbed his heart. If he could have worked a bit harder, provided more, been a better colony France wouldn’t have left. He wouldn’t be holding a book his brother read with him, in a warm bed, actually full for once. He had disappointed his last father but maybe this time it wouldn’t be so bad. Father was Uncle Alasdair's brother. And he had been kind to Matthew before. Giving Him warm clothes when he traveled through New France from his fur trading companies up north. And he stayed with him while he was sick. Unburied him, fed him. No, he couldn’t let his new Father be disappointed in him. He had to be better.

That started with returning the book so father wouldn’t have to do it. 

Matthew bit his lower lip and tried to find the courage Uncle Alasdair said he had. Strong like summer winds he said to him. It was that last day in Nova Scotia, the fire burning into coals warmed his toes, but the love and hope Scotland provided warmed him from the inside. That was the last time he had seen his Uncle, gone and traded for his Father. He wished he was here now. Matthew didn’t know how to be brave alone. 

Steadying his breath he walked to the door, moving the same way he did when hunting deer. The door opened loudly with a groan, Anxiety spiked in his chest and he was overcome with a wave of embarrassment. It was just a door, he lived here now just as much as Alfred. With that thought he pushed his way fully into the hall. 

It was quiet upstairs but noises from downstairs carried up the hall. The sounds of plates stacking up together, clinking of cutlery and squeaking of chairs reminded Matthew that he was due for breakfast. The book weighed heavily in his hand. Should he go down to breakfast first? Is he missed?. François would be furious if he missed breakfast. But that was at versailles. This was not versailles, it was Fathers home. Maybe Alfred would be down there. Matthew wasn’t hungry, the thought of eating made him nauseous but Alfred would be able to tell him where the library was, show him where to put the book back so father wouldn’t be mad. 

He hurried down the stairs, careful to look at the steps as he went. Matthew was still new to stairs this steep and narrow. He did not want to break an ankle, Father would have to look after him then and he wouldn’t be able to do the housework as fast. Father would be disappointed. 

The voices got louder and Matthew faltered. Maybe he could just hide in his room and find the library later. Alfred would have to come back sometime. He could get a start on scrubbing the floors too, a way to surprise and thank Father for keeping him so long. 

Turning to go back up stars he was in such a rush that he didn’t see the person until his face slammed into soft fabric and he tumbled down the few stairs he climbed up. 

“Good lord boy! Look where you’re going!” 

Glancing up from where he was rubbing his ankle which he knew was at least twisted, the servant before him looked furious. Glowering at him from the steps towering above him making him feel smaller than usual. Tears sprung to his eyes, from the pain in his ankle or the fear and embarrassment in his heart he didn’t know. Here he was. A stranger in this house and he just interrupted a hard working servant of fathers. Cleaning the floor wouldn’t be enough to make father want to keep him now. 

“Don’t go mute on me, who are you!?.”

Matthew didn’t know what to say or do. He wanted to crawl into the woods and run away. He upset someone. He wanted to leave, he deserved to leave. Who would want him now?. Maybe he could find his way to Scotland and find his uncle. The servant mentioned something about getting the lord which got Matthew to respond. 

“Matthew. I’m Matthew, Fathers- the lord's son” That felt weird to say but it was true wasn’t it?. “I am very sorry I did not see you.”

Her face turned into something squished. Like she had milk that went bad. 

“ My lord only has one son and he is not you. How dare you soil his good name! He would never have another son, much less one that's french!.” 

The tears were fully falling down his cheeks. Where was Alfred? He was at breakfast right? Why hadn’t he heard the yelling?. His ankle hurt and he was confused. He wanted Alfred. 

The servant's eyes flashed from his face to his ankle to the book now laying on the floor. Matthew hadn’t seen anyone as mad as Franc was when he broke a vase in Versailles until now. 

“ And stealing from him non the less” She stormed down the stairs and grabbed his arm pulling it so hard it distracted from the pain in his ankle. Marching him down the hall Matthew had no choice but to follow her alone lest he be dragged out. 

She stopped in front of a door that he had never seen before and sharply opened it. England wasn’t as cold as his homeland but it was December and he was only in a nightgown, it quickly seeped into his bones making him shiver.

“ If you truly are his son he would have told us about you, Bastard or not!.”

The door slammed shut leaving him alone outside. The quietness of snow made his sobs even louder and the cold made his searing ankle hotter. He deserved this. She was right. He truly was not Arthur's son. That was Alfred. A bastard she had called him. Some French thing. He wanted to wallow and sit there with his back to the house and cry for all the unfairness. But that would make uncle mad, and he knew he needed to survive. If he couldn’t be inside the house. If Father truly didn’t see him as a son he needed to find his way to Scotland. He knew his uncle cared. He always said he could stay in his letters. But it was so cold. And his ankle was hurt. He needed to find shelter and rest before he moved on. Father didn’t want him but Uncle Alasdair did. Maybe he should just let Father live his perfect life. He already had a perfect son, he wouldn’t miss him. No one would.