#dear painting their nails with gavin

[morgansplace]

sick and GOD DAMN tired of people writing damn crew stuff (especially the polycule) and not including dear. they've been with lasko for almost a year and a half, people. get with the program.

PLEASE dear has so much love to give!!! Include! Them! In! That! Polycule!

[2p42m]

hiya. I see you so hard on gavgirls. KRISTOPH ESPECIALLY. the absolute repression oh my god you are so correct. we will free christine together at any cost

you understand the vision .... the eighteen million billion levels of emotional incomprehension contained within kristoph/kristine gavin to create the most complicated glass closet i have ever seen. what self-respecting man paints his nails my ass. now i mustn't be allowed to yap too much about them despite the. well everything about me and my blog lest i simply recreate my gavgirls conspiracy board and i do have other responsibilities probably but

tldr i'm normal in the head and kristoph is "i wish i was a woman so i could be your wife so i could tell you what to do" you get it

i am so obsessed with the complications created between siblings and especially the gavin siblings i'm afraid it's terminal. the love and hatred intertwined can be so potent i'm eating my way through capcom's walls. that kristoph created a safe space in her shadow for klavier to explore and express freely, and she's happy for her little klavier, she really is, but there's something about the jealousy she feels towards her for being so open and carefree at every second. she shoves it down with the rest because then she must ask why she's jealous of such a thing and she should never feel that way towards her little klavier, anyway. and she's far too much a busy man to wallow in those kinds of things. still it persists.

that kristoph only dares to feel that fluttering in her chest and finally find a name for it while rotting away from the world in a cell block: finding the freedom to exist only when the very thing has been robbed of her. did i mention my dear friend @princepqul has a lovely fic for this in atroquinine, my love and i'm going to fucking Get him by the way. and her life may as well be over but it's the first time she's lived it in thirty-two years and it's when nobody is left to see it. whether that's a blessing or a curse she couldn't say.

that miles away in an empty home klavier reckons with the loss, perhaps in this way more than ever, of the one person who she felt understood, and saw, and would always be there by her side. and continues to lose her every day as she's forced to question if that person ever existed and even safe in the conclusion that she did, that klavier will never have the opportunity to repay her. will never be able to openly respect who kristoph was to her beyond who kristoph was to the world and. and.

i have no canon basis for any of this but they told me themselves so i know this to be true btw. klavier is my wife

[ace-ace-attorneys]

klavier !!

thank you for giving me the opportunity to be insane may <3

sexuality headcanon: bi or maybe pan. while he doesn’t really have a gender preference, he definitely has a type, and it’s people who kind of hate him. (kidding, but only kind of- i think since he’s adored by so many people he finds it very refreshing when people aren’t just awestruck by him and actually take the time to evaluate him as a person. even if that means they decide he’s kind of insufferable <3)

gender headcanon: he sees gender as a fun little toy for him to play with. he has no problem with being perceived as a man, but it’s not really how he identifies. i think he’s the type that doesn’t like labels, so if you asked him about his gender he’d probably say either something flirty but vague like “whatever pleases you most, my dear” or like, use a song to describe it. he’s fine with any pronouns and dresses in a chaotic combination of traditionally masculine and traditionally feminine clothing. all of it combines to make a gender that is very uniquely his own and is kind of impossible to put a label on anyway, which is exactly the point

a ship i have with said character: klapollo of course, but recently my mutuals have been putting me on to klavseb and klavquill and i really like those too!! (i’m also a klemapollo enjoyer but i know that’s an unpopular opinion so i don’t talk about it much)

a brotp i have with said character: klavier and trucy!!!! their dynamic in aa4 was so fun and sweet i think they deserve to paint their nails and talk about their crushes together. also, these ones aren’t present in canon but i think there’s a lot of fun potential for klavier&athena and klavier&franziska as platonic duos

a notp i have with said character: i don’t like klema very much, mostly because i feel like people who ship it always skew/simplify their personalities so that ema is just a tsundere and klavier is just a flirt, which i think does a huge disservice to both of them. admittedly though i feel like if it were done well it could actually be an interesting pairing (and one that has a lot of similarities to klapollo when you think about it) so. idk.

a random headcanon: i hc the gavin brothers as actually being german, so i like the idea that his given name is kantilen (which is what it is in the german translation) and klavier is a nickname/stage name that kind of ended up just becoming his name. i haven’t given this much thought yet but i think you could do some interesting things with names as a parallel to the overlap between his two professional careers and his personal life

general opinion over said character: ult fav, great dynamics with every character he’s paired with, done incredibly dirty by canon. i owe the aa fanbase my life for writing fics/making art that give him the depth and character development that he deserves!!

[lifeofkaze]

October Writing Challenge 2021 - Day 2

The most adorable Saffron Summers belongs to my favourite person @the-al-chemist 💛💛💛

“Are you coming or not?” Danielle Parkin asked for what felt like the hundredth time.

She and her friend Saffron Summers were on their way down to the hut belonging to Rubeus Hagrid, Care of Magical Creatures professor and resident gamekeeper of Hogwarts. The big pumpkin patch next to his hut was full to the brim with pumpkins of all forms and sizes, and Dana had been excited for days to go and collect some for various, very autumnal purposes; she had even painted her nails a bright red orange to mark the beginning of her favourite season of all times.

But at the rate they were going, they would be lucky to reach Hagrid’s hut by Christmas.

Like so many times already, Saffron, who was walking her bunny Gavin on a plaited hemp leash, had stopped and fallen behind. She had kneeled down and was inspecting a pile of leaves, discussing something with her furry friend Dana couldn’t hear.

Usually, she patiently let Saffron be her unique self, but today, Dana was impatient to get down to the pumpkin patch.

“Come on, Saff, we don’t have all day,” she sighed as Saff skipped down the path toward her.

“Oh yes, we do,” Saffron answered dreamily. “The moon phase is perfect for picking pumpkins the whole day. You want to go to Hagrid’s because Dylan will be there. Gavin agrees with me,” she added matter-of-factly.

Dana felt the heat rise to her cheeks. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I can go and see Dylan any time I want, why would I be excited about him… this. Excited about this, I mean,” she corrected herself hastily.

“I don’t know,” Saffron shrugged and seemed to look right through Dana for a moment. “Your aura is such a beautiful pink, do you know that? Like a summer sunset.”

Humming to herself, Saffron strolled past a confused Dana, who followed her with a shake of her head.

They reached Hagrid’s hut without any more unplanned stops a short while later. Dana couldn’t help the elated smile spreading on her face as her eyes scanned the pumpkin patch. Hagrid had outdone himself this year, and some of the pumpkins stood even taller than Dana herself. The thought about sitting in a giant jack-o-lantern made her chuckle.

Dana clapped her hands enthusiastically. “Alright, let’s get to work.”

They ventured out into the pumpkin patch on the lookout for the perfect specimen. When they reached the other side of the vegetable garden, Dana could see two figures sitting on the low wall separating Hagrid’s garden from the Forbidden Forest. It was Dylan Amari, who Dana had known all her life, and his Muggle friend, who often helped Hagrid with his classes. They were bent over some sort of leather harness they were in the process of mending.

Before Dana could stop her, Saffron had already called out to her two friends. Dylan looked up from his work upon hearing his name, and smiled broadly when he saw Dana and Saffron. He said something to his friend and hopped down from the wall. The cold October breeze stirred his dark, messy hair as he walked towards them, and Dana suddenly found her heavy knit cardigan a tad too warm.

Saffron looked at her curiously. “So much pink,” she sighed and danced off to continue her search; Dana didn’t join her, instead waiting for Dylan to reach her.

“You could have told me you’re coming down,” he said with a warm smile. His voice was low and had a warm timbre to it that reminded Dana of a warm hearthfire. “What are you doing here?”

“Hagrid said we could have some pumpkins. You know, for decorating and baking.”

Dylan hummed in response. “Any luck so far?”

Dana showed him her empty hands and laughed. “Apparently not. I want them to be just right.”

Dylan looked at her sceptically. “Isn’t one pumpkin like the other?”

“Absolutely not,” Dana said vehemently. “There’s size to consider, and colour, and form and so many other things.”

“Uh-huh,” Dylan said, looking unconvinced. “So you’re looking for the perfect pumpkin, I get that. But what in Godric’s name is Saffron doing?”

Dana turned around to see Saffron repeatedly circling a particularly large pumpkin. Gavin the rabbit was sitting on top of it and looked just as bewildered as Dylan.

“Don’t you think that one’s a little big, Saff?” Dana called out to her; she didn’t fancy carrying that one back to the school at all.

Saffron shook her head, her blonde hair flying around her like a halo. “I think this one has completed its last growth cycle,” Saffron called back, “let me just check.” She reached into one of the many pockets of her colourful jacket and produced a gleaming crystal on a delicate chain. She held it close to the pumpkin and studied the tiny movements of the pendulum in her hand with a concentrated look.

“She’s trying to determine if that is the correct pumpkin to pick,” Dana explained to Dylan before he could ask, “she takes this very seriously.”

“I can see that,” Dylan said wryly. “But what is she doing now?”

Dana turned around again and had to stifle a sigh; Saffron had put her crystal away and was now sitting on the ground hugging the giant pumpkin as far as her arms would reach. They didn’t even go halfway round; considering its impressive size, Dana contemplated if levitating the gigantic pumpkin all the way back would work.

“She is apologising to the pumpkin that we are about to pick it,” she said. She had to bite her lip to keep herself from laughing at Dylan’s incredulous expression.

“She does realise that it’s a pumpkin, does she?”

“Tell that to her.”

“It’s a pumpkin, Saff. It doesn’t mind getting picked, you know? That’s kind of the whole point of growing them,” Dylan said to the sad looking girl on the ground with a louder voice.

“How would you like getting ripped out of the home you’ve known your entire life and carted off to some unknown destination?” Saffron said and wrinkled her nose. “Don’t worry, dear Pumpkin,” she said more softly and laid her cheek against the orange surface, “I am very sorry we are about to pick you, but I’ll promise we’ll make a delicious pie out of you.”

They gave Saffron and her pumpkin another moment before Dylan sliced its stem and helped Dana levitate it back to the school. It was really heavy so Dana was glad for the assistance, as a sniffing Saffron was too sad about the pumpkin’s demise to concentrate properly; she covered her mouth when Dana had to magically slice it in two to make it fit through the door that would lead them to the dungeons.

When they had reached the kitchens, Saffron had regained most of her composure again.

“Do you want to help us bake?” she asked Dylan when he was about to return to Hagrid’s hut again. ��I think Dana would like some help.”

“I’m no use in the kitchen, but you can call me any time to judge the results,” Dylan laughed and turned to go.

Dana watched after him as he quickly walked up the stairs and vanished around the corner. She hastily raised her wand again when the pumpkin halves floating next to her almost came crashing to the ground.

“What did you ask him for?” she asked Saffron, who leaned her head against Dana’s shoulder with an other-worldly smile. “We do this every year. I don’t need his help.”

“Just a feeling,” Saffron said dreamily, “very pink.”

[bittersweetmelxdy]

If requests are open can i get how gavin would react to a small mc who can't leave her house on windy days because when she was a kids she got pulled by the wind from one side of a park to another and she hasn't gotten any bigger since? It's a true story and i need to know how my bird cop would react.

This story is actually really cute, and it was interesting to see how Gavin would react hearing this story. Hope you like it dear x

Title: the abolishing of childhood fears Pairing: Gavin x MC Words: 925

Gavin would have been an idiot if he didn’t notice the vice grip you had on his neck whenever you were airborne, and he would have been a terrible boyfriend if he couldn’t feel you trembling like a leaf. However, you never offered any further explanation to your fears so Gavin just made sure to hold you a little tighter whenever he took you flying, and getting to hold you in his arms, well... he wasn’t going to complain, and he was happy to indulge in whatever you wanted.  

You bit your lip, looking out of Gavin’s windows, the angry storm clouds and the whistling of the wind could be heard even through the glass. A shiver ran down your spine, and your nails dug into the skin of your arm as they were crossed tightly together. Having a day off, you had made you way to Gavin apartment, the bright sunshine painting Loveland City, and you watched the weather report scroll across the billboards as you waited for the lights to change so you could cross the road. There was an oncoming storm on the way with gale-force winds, and you quickly scanned above for the hour it would roll in. Luckily for you, the storm was supposed to roll in throughout the night, so you would be back home nestled in your own apartment before the storm even hit. So, you had smiled, and then continued your trek to Gavin’s place. This would be the last time you ever put such blind faith in the weatherman. The whistling of the kettle drew you from your reverie and you turned your head to watch Gavin make his way into the kitchen, and then you went and sat yourself down on his couch to wait for him.

Gavin sighed, shaking his head as he watched you settle down on his couch, he wanted to ask, he wanted to know. You had gasped when the storm had rolled in, rushing to push the curtains open, fists gripping the fabric tightly, Gavin slowly approached you, hovering his hand over shoulder, when he finally heard your mutter of “he said it wouldn’t come in until tonight”, and he could see you visibly shaking. Gavin backed off and made his way to the kitchen, intending to make some tea before he finally broached the subject of your fear. Switching the kettle off, he reached up and took down a set of matching cups he had bought recently on a trip to Furniture City, and smiling a slight blush painting his cheeks, as he rubbed the surface of your cup gently.

“Here you go.” Gavin said gently, noticing you had wrapped yourself in the throw blanket on his couch, and handed you the cup.

You raised your eyebrow noticing that the matching design of the cup, and huffed with amusement as Gavin flushed, “Thank you.” you blew delicately on the surface the steam dancing as it escaped the cup and took a sip, humming in contentment at the flavour.

“I added a little bit of honey,” Gavin sat down and tapped his finger against the ceramic before adding, “is it... is it to your taste?” he asked nervously, visibly deflating as if to brace himself for bad news.

Smiling at the sweetness of your boyfriend, you turned your head and pressed a kiss to his cheek, “It’s lovely, thank you Gavin.” and your smile widened as he nodded perking up quickly, and taking a sip of his tea.

“So, you want to tell me about it?” he ventured.

You laughed nervously, “Tell you what Gavin?” taking another couple of sips to distract yourself.

Gavin took the tea from you and placed it on the table alongside his before using his arm around your shoulders to pull you into his embrace, keeping you locked tightly against him as you squirmed for a minute before finally giving up.

“Stop moving.” Gavin squeezed you tightly once, before releasing you and allowing you to move slightly away, “Listen, I can’t protect you from something I don’t know about.”

You sighed, figuring you couldn’t beat about the bush any longer, and took a deep breath “When I was little, I was almost blown away by the strong winds, and since then I’ve stayed indoors on windy days.” You tightly shut your eyes and balled your fists, when you heard the spluttering of Gavin’s laughter.

“Gavin, this isn’t funny.” you pouted, shoving him away, as he laughed, hiding his boyish smile behind a closed fist.

“No, no, it’s just to be small and light enough to be carried away by the wind,” Gavin laid his hand atop your head, caressing your hair gently, “you must have been a really cute kid.”

You blushed rosy red, and Gavin leaned down pressing his forehead against yours, “Thank you for trusting me with this.”  

After saying this, Gavin brought you back into his embrace, and this time you went willingly, and after snuggling into his chest and breathing in his warm scent. He had to admit it had shocked him for a second hearing that the thing that he used to protect you the most was actually something that caused you a lot of fear. But he knew as long as he was around you, you’d have nothing more to fear. Gavin leaned down pressed a kiss to the crown of your head, as you quickly fell into a slumber, before finishing with a promise, “I promise, stay with me, and nothing will hurt you, especially not the wind.”

[erixyin]

MLQC Boys as somethings I’ve said to my boyfriend:

Gavin:

“If i commit murder would you rat me out or join me and be my partner in crime?” “... yes”

*falls off the bed* “this is ILLEGAL!”

*gets stuck in a video game* “i dont need help!” *5 minutes later* “i need help!”

“I love you but could you not” [in reference to him changing while im trying to write an essay]

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN CRIMINOLOGY ISNT THE STUDY OF HOW TO BE A CRIMINAL”

*everytime he starts the car* “eheheh vroom vroom”

“SIR I AM CALLING THE POLICE” “you’re the one under arrest”

“What do you mean i cant have chicken nugs for tea again?”

*him walking in and seeing me wearing his hoodie. Looks away and blushes*

“Dry my hair wind!” “The wind accepts his fate”

“Gimme hugs gimme hugs gimme hugs *hugs* yes sweaty hugs”

“Do you think I’d be a good police officer?” “No”

“Im going to the shops!” “You’re wearing just my hoodie and tshirt” “I’m still going to the shops!”

“So then i realised i couldnt go to the GP- OMG DOGGY DOGGY DOGGY DOGGY WHAT A GOOD BOI” [the doggo in question is across the very busy road and is wearing a coat <3]

*gives me head pats* “am cute”

“We could illegally watch the movie...?” “YOU WOULDN’T STEAL A CAR”

Kiro:

*after a lengthy discussion about how i shouldn’t buy it” “ok but hear me out...it has ears”

“I bought 6 packets of laces” “why?” “Because I’ll eat 3 packets by myself”

*going to mcdonalds* “NUGS NUGS NUGS NUGS NUGS NUGS NUGS”

*both of us singing pitch perfect word for word*

🎶 “why can i not spell this word, spell this word, pull this word. Why can i not spell this word FOR AN ENTIRE GODDAMN HOUR” 🎵

“My abs are underneath a layer of squish for warmth through winter” “same!”

“Pay attention to me ;-;” “but but but” “put the doggo down”

“Am burrito” *is a burrtoed into my blanket*

*makes cat hiss noies when trying to steal my nugs* “a violent sushi roll”

*after trying to remember my password for Moshi monsters* “I DID IT IM A HACKER”

*bf does a puzzle that ive been stuck on for 20 minutes* “JESUS CHRIST ITS JASON BOURNE”

*me booping his arms and chest* “squishy and muscle. Squishy and muscle. Squishy and muscle...”

*ordering a takeaway* “LORD AM ABOUT TO BE CHONCCY”

Victor:

“Work is difficult and life is hard” “ill give you a kiss if you finish a paragraph?” “WAIT TEN MINUTES”

“I need moral support for this essay” “it’s 3am?” “As i said i need moral support”

“But can i-“ “no”

“Hear me out you’re cute” “no”

*dying of laughter after putting cat ears on him* “childish”

“There should be a cereal called breaking fast with blue marshmallows in it and sponsored by breaking bad” “... that’s not terrible”

“Why am i a gullible idiot?!” *after 4 games of chess and losing 4 times* “but you’re my cute, gullible idiot”

“Um can i have a coffee ple-“ “no” “but why?” *intense stare* “I’ll have a hot chocolate”

*walking in wearing a suit* “YOU GOT A FINE ASS BOI” *his friend looking at him. Him wanting to bury his head into the void*

*singing off key and drunk* “I’M TOO HOT!” :D :D :D :D “.... hot damn”

*plays chopsticks on the keyboard* “do you wanna be in my band?”

“Law and order again?!” “IT’S EITHER LAW AND ORDER OR SAY YES TO THE DRESS WHAT DO YOU WANT”

“Disney film night!” *deflated sigh*

*in front of his frens in a alt store* “which collar should i get?” *bats eyes innocently*

*wakes me up at 8am* “an UNGODLY time” “no”

Lucien:

*listening to him explain a fish to me* “hehehe puffer fishy be so chonccy”

“I found you this rock!” “Excellent”

*wearing his jacket* “NOODLE ARMS ATTACK” “aaaa so scary”

*puts his hand on my thigh* “NOT IN PUBLIC” “but why?”

“This is my plant Dave the cactus, and this is my plant medusa the snek plant, and this is my plant sam the mini cactus and this is my plant...” *look of adoration*

*drags him away from his laptop to go to bed*

*after talking about trust issues because of my ex* *him: gets up* “where are you going?” “To commit murder”

*plays with his hair and he purrs*

*hot water bottle on tummy* “i am an egg in pain” “the cutest egg tho”

“DOGGY” “thats a fox dear” “SNEAKY DOGGY”

*having a an in-depth discussion on evolution* *5minutes later* “do you think the T. rex went extinct because he couldnt applaud his friends and died out of sadness?”

*i’ve killed him. He’s dead” “ill get the body bag” “my poor goldfish- WHAT”

*sits next to him wearing a hoodie and thigh highs* “you’re distracting me” “I’m just breathing” “yes”

*going to dance clubs always ends up with me against a wall*

*is wearing a cute bodycon dress with mesh panels* “we’re gonna be home early”

*what do you think of my new fishnets? *runs finger down them* “asmr all the time”

*me feeling insecure* “i think I’ve gained weight” “great then my plan i working! You will be healthy!”

Shaw:

*accidentally walks out of a shop holding a key ring i havent bought* “im a criminal [crying]” “a terrible one too”

*is 3months younger than me* “you’re so old” “you’re the one who looks 5 years older than you are” “take that back!”

“You can’t wear your leather jacket to a formal event” “fucking watch me”

*kisses and dancing in the rain*

“Idiot” *wtaches me splash in all the puddles like a child*

*watches me cry over a tiny snail i found* “i love this you”

“Omg look at this SNALLLL!” “Snail?” “SNALLLLL”

“I have so much debt” “its because all of the McNugs you buy”

“Help me dye my hair?” “Certainly that will be £300” “aaaaa”

“You’re so mean!” “I have to be otherwise you’ll never learn” *talking about watching another episode of game of thrones*

*has to look away for some game of thrones scenes* “a fragile child” “im older than you”

“Can i paint your nails?” “Yeah my masculinity ain’t fragile” “can i paint them holo?” “No”

*cuddling* “you smell” “do you want sex or not” “you smell lovely”

[doobler]

Monster AU - The Lich King

"Hey."

Ryan looked up, eyes wide. Michael loomed over him and the very air seemed to escape out of the room. He put away the knife he was sharpening and sat up straight. This was the first time in weeks that the oldest Lad had said a single word to Ryan. After showing his true malicious form, Michael acted like he didn't even exist.

"Michael. What's up?"

"You're old, right?"

Ryan tilted his head slightly, trying to smother the look of utter confusion on his face.

"Yeah?"

"Like. Real fucking old?"

"... Old as time itself. Why?"

Michael inhaled deep through his nose, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. From his low angle, Ryan could see a vein beginning to bulge in his neck.

"I need your help with something." Michael replied after a moment.

"... What kind of help?"

Slowly, the façade faded. Michael's body shimmered out of existence, exposing the stark ivory bones underneath. The pits of his eye sockets lit up with a crimson glow. His bones rattled faintly as he stood up taller, his teeth grinding as his eyes shined brighter. Power emanated from his stance.

"I need you to tell me where the fucker that did this to me is. So I can fucking kill his ass."

-----

Ryan wasn't a fan of getting caught and Geoff's lectures. At his request, he and Michael moved to the roof to remain out of earshot. Michael seemed intent to remain in his natural form.

"Where's this coming from all of a sudden?" Ryan kept his voice low out of habit.

"I've been thinking," Michael focused his gaze on the horizon, soaking in the beauty of Los Santos at midnight. "If you're so fucking... Chaotic and dark and whatever and you're old as fuck, you gotta know which Lich did this shit to me. I wasn't the only one, I know there are others. You have to know."

Ryan ran a hand through his hair, a heavy sigh punching out of his chest. He wracked his memory, millennia upon millennia of information. I didn't take long to recall which Lich and where he was with the utmost confidence. Creatures of that nature very rarely did a good job lying low.

"... What if I do know?"

"Hah! I fucking knew it!" Despite not having visible eyebrows or facial tissues, Michael's eyes seemed to narrow accusingly. "You do know."

"And?"

"And what? I'm gonna fucking murder that piece of shit."

"You can't--"

"Geoff told me how to kill a Lich."

Ryan held his breath, mulling it over. On one hand, he was immortal, as was Michael. Liches were powerful but they had a weakness. For all he knew, Michael had none. On the other hand, the accursed facing their cursers usually spelled trouble. The conflict could end in doom for both parties. Plus, it was Michael after all. He'd no doubt make Ryan swear not to interfere so he could regain his honor and secure victory by his own design. Ryan's own immortality was inconsequential.

"Fine. I'll help. But only on one condition."

Michael couldn't physically grin but the light of the city shifted somehow, making it appear like he was.

"Yeah?"

"I need you to write something for me."

-----

Geoff made his way from room to room like he always did every night. He checked on Jack, dropping a soft kiss on the Gent's cheek while he read. He popped into Gavin's room, trying to ignore the horrible mess, and wished him good night. He ducked into Jeremy's room, admiring the Lad's current project (spray painting every weapon he owned a hideous Rimmy Tim palette), and smiled against the younger man’s lips.

When he looked into Ryan's room, he wasn't surprised to find it empty. He was either moping in the shadows or out, both of which were normal.

However, Michael not being in his room this late at night was suspicious.

"Mikey?"

Geoff crept inside, a sense of dread filling his chest. Michael's room was immaculate as per usual, his bed perfectly made, his desk free of clutter, his closet neat and organized. The whole room smelled faintly like lavender.

Sitting on the bed was a sheet of paper. Geoff picked it up and began to read.

"Dear whoever the fuck finds this,

This could be the last thing I ever write. Ryan and I are going to find that Lich cunt and pound him into dust. I don't know if killing him will break my curse or kill me too so Ryan made me write this like a final will and testament.

My time with the Fakes has easily been the highlight of my life. I've never felt like I was a part of a family as I have here. Falling in love five times over was also pretty clutch. You guys never made me feel like I was lesser, like I was a freak. This has always been a home to me and always will be. Even if this kills me, my heart and soul will stay with the Crew. If I'm able to haunt you fuckers, you know I will.

All my stuff should be divided fairly between all of you. I do want Gavin to have my rocket launcher and Jeremy can have that leather jacket I always wear, but everything else is free game. If my bones stay behind, I want Ryan to do some magic space demon shit with it, make matching bone necklaces or something.

I have no regrets, except maybe not saying how much I love you guys nearly as much as I should have. For that, I'm sorry.

Your friendly neighborhood skeleton,

Michael V. Jones"

Geoff grit his teeth, fear and apprehension stabbing its way into his chest. He contemplated telling the others but that would only cement the idea that Michael would fail. Instead, Geoff folded up the letter and tucked it into the pocket of his shirt, right above his heart.

"I'll reach into the pits of hell, drag you out, and slap the ever-loving fuck outta you if you don't come back," Geoff uttered like a prayer. "That's an god-damned fact."

-----

Michael was floating.Up, down, left, right, forward and back. None of it existed. There was only the never ending darkness, swirling like a smokey miasma around him.

A strip of light suddenly cut through the curtain of black. Michael steered himself towards it, peering through the gap. There was a barren cliff with sad looking grass overlooking a massive Gothic castle. Michael hopped through the break and landed on his feet.

"That was simultaneously really awesome and fucking horrifying," Michael gasped, trying to calm the quake in his bones. "I could see the end of the fucking universe in there."

Ryan shrunk back into his human form, dusting off plumes of inky smog from his body.

"Yeah there's a reason why I don't make you guys travel like that. I wasn't really designed to be a taxi service."

"So where are we?"

Ryan walked to the edge of the cliff, sinking onto his haunches. He studied the castle below, eyes darting in all directions.

"Pretty sure we're in Germany, somewhere around Schwartzwald. I think," Ryan sniffed at the air, as if the smell would give him an answer. "Fuckers like this one prefer the dark and gloomy and isolated aesthetic. No better place for that than the Black Forest."

Michael nodded, pretending that he understood. Ryan stretched out his arm and pointed to the heart of the castle, just below ground.

"There's a massive room right in the center. He's there, right in the middle."

Something akin to a growl escaped Michael's mouth.

"He's doing it all over again," Michael snarled. He unsheathed the sword he'd brought, his grip making the leather handle groan. "Pulling in fighters and damning them to a life of pain, all for some fucked up depraved entertainment."

Before Ryan could stop him, Michael lept off the cliff, landing hundreds of feet bellow without breaking a sweat. He marched his way through waist high greying grass and scraggly foliage, an aura of rage blossoming from his body. Ryan sighed, dragging a hand down his face before hopping down to join him.

"Michael, slow the fuck down," Ryan called, jogging to keep up. "There's no need to storm the castle, I can phase us through the ground."

Michael stopped in his tracks, holding out his hand without looking back. Ryan shed his human form once again, becoming a swirling mass of smoke. He enveloped the undead skeleton like a smoggy blanket, clipping through the ground and sinking deep deep below. It didn't take long before they broke through soil, bursting out of a layer of stone into the clearing beneath the castle.

It looked just as Michael imagined it would. Cylindrical in shape, the room was wide and immensely tall. The walls were made of dark stone while the floor was only dirt. At one curve of the room was an ornate throne, built high with the bones of fallen warriors.

The Lich.

"You return to me at last, mighty Mogar," The Lich's voice was like nails on a chalkboard, grinding clawed fingers on the edges of your soul. "I have been waiting for the return of a warrior of your caliber--"

"YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD, YOU CUNT SON OF A BITCH!!!"

Michael screamed, whipping out his sword and charging. The Lich raised his hand and a small legion of skeletal fighters rose from the dirt. Michael didn't stop, batting away the first few swings with no effort at all. He ducked under one blade, parrying the next, his bones illuminated by flying sparks. Ryan made to join the fight, only to stop when Michael yelled.

"Stay the fuck back, Haywood!" He bellowed, kicking one of the undead square in the chest. "This is my fight!"

Ryan sighed. He stayed in his natural form, keeping himself small and fading into the shadows to watch close by. The Lich stared him down, no doubt sensing his overwhelming presence.

"You've brought me an Elder?" The Lich croaked, raising a boney finger towards Ryan. "I will accept this mighty gift and retain immortality."

"This is between you and me, bitch!" Michael yelled back, landing an upward stroke of his sword. "The only gift I've brought is gonna be my sword in your fucking throat!"

Michael stood firm, knocking back every hit thrown his way. He didn't flinch when a flail barely missed his head, nor when an arrow sang through the air and sunk into his femur. He kept his stride, making short work of his enemies. They kept coming, though, the crowd thickening the closer he came to the throne. Ryan slowly edged forward, making sure he was nearby in case the tide turned.

"I'm gonna free all these bastards' souls!" Michael called over the roar of battle. Another arrow lodged itself into his clavicle. "They're gonna be free of your curse and you're gonna turn to fucking dust!"

Michael didn't land a single blow on the warriors, firmly playing defense. It took Ryan a while to figure out his strategy. When he did, a tremor ran through his heart.Michael didn't want to harm the fallen warriors that were like him.He took arrow after arrow, staggering under the few blows that landed. A massive crack spiderwebbed down his pelvis. Thick black blood oozed from his wounds. He kept going, his head held high, his eyes burning like twin suns in their sockets.

Finally, Michael was at the throne.

He stood up tall, an air of pride keeping him still as stone.

"Any last words, motherfucker?" Michael growled, raising his sword. The fallen behind him slunk back into the dirt, defeated. "I've been waiting 1600 years for this, feel free to take your time and think up something smart."

"You could never kill me," The Lich cackled, wheezing like a bitter gale. "I created what you are, molded you, defined you. I gave you purpose. I gave you immortality. Slaying me would mean bringing an end to what has come to be what and who you are. I am your god, your savior, your patriarch. Smite me and your whole sense of being will b--"

Michael rushed forward, sliding his sword between the Lich's mummified ribs. He broke through the gem around his neck, shattering the vessel that held his very soul.

The Lich let loose an unholy wail, screeching into the night as he contorted and twisted erratically. Ryan swooped in, pulling Michael back a few steps. They watched as the Lich crumbled into powder, collapsing into himself, sucked into the shattered gem, and clattered to the ground with a harmless clink.

"Damn. That was some Lord of the Rings shit."

Michael looked at his hands, flipping them over and over. His boney visage didn't change. His curse remained.However, there was a lingering and unfamiliar lightness in his chest. He looked down, amazed to find something pounding softly in his rib cage. It glowed like a tiny star, pure white and sparkling.

"Your soul," Ryan whispered, leaning in to admire it. "Been a while since Ive seen one of these. It's fucking beautiful, Michael."

"My soul?" The Lad echoed. He lifted his hand, dipping it into his chest. When his fingers phased through the glimmering ball, a tingly warmth spread through his bones. "So... I'm free?"

"Yeah," Ryan smiled, a faint twinkle in his eyes. "You're free."

-----

Together, the duo soared out of the castle, returning to the cliff where they'd first arrived. Michael stepped out of Ryan's fog, sitting down and dangling his legs over the ledge.

"I wish those other guys had taken my offer," Michael thought allowed. "We could've easily gotten them all out. They have their whole lives to live."

"I think many of them are too old and tired now," Ryan replied, sitting next to him. "That castle has been their home for centuries. I'm sure they'd rather just. Fade away."

Michael hummed softly, looking down at his hands again. His body seemed lighter than it had in over a thousand years. He truly felt free.

"I... Owe you an apology," Michael sighed, finally looking Ryan in the eye. "I've been leading you on like a real douche bag."

"Don't even mention it," Ryan beamed. "I understand. I... Was hiding myself from you guys. People who love each other don't keep such huge secrets like that."

"No, I mean. I wasn't ever really mad at you," Michael huffed, looking away. "Geoff and Jack explained that you're nothing like a Lich, you're... Like this super powerful magic space demon. You were born from the dark matter of the universe and used the natural flow of magic in reality to give yourself a soul. Liches are... Sick disgusting fucks, greedy Necromancers who won't even let death itself control them. You and them are nothing alike. It was a real dick move of me to act like you were similar just so you'd help me."

Ryan blinked in shock. He couldn't bring himself to be angry at the deception, however. He decided a while ago that the best way to advance was to come to a state of understanding and simply move on.

"I love you as much as I love the other guys," Michael turned back. The illusion of a smile played on his skull. "You're a real salty piece of shit sometimes and your stubbornness makes me wanna scream but... You're such a good person and I love you despite your flaws."

With a gentle smile, Ryan leaned in, pressing his lips against Michael's teeth. He'd never kissed the Lad like this before. His bones were warm somehow, the sensation like kissing a smooth stone that'd been left under the sun. The kiss was chaste, melting into several more before he pulled away. Ryan tried not to stare as Michael's soul glowed brighter for a moment.

"That... Was surprisingly nice." Michael whispered.

He leaned in again and Ryan met him halfway. The Gent shed his human form, making Michael laugh. The logistics of a human skull and a deer-like shadowy being kissing were odd but still worked by some divine miracle. They stayed that way for a while until the tawny fingers of dawn curled over the horizon.

"Alright, ok," Michael snickered, pulling away. He'd wound up halfway swallowed up by Ryan's smokey body and laughed when the Gent shrank back. "We should get home before Geoff has a fucking aneurysm."

Ryan nodded, standing upright. His body expanded, a void opening up inside. Faintly, deep within, Michael could see a window to the penthouse. He dipped a hand into the portal, steeling himself.

"Remember," Ryan echoed from everywhere and nowhere. "I'm always here for you, Mogar."

Michael let out a childlike giggle. His old name sounded so foreign now.

"I know." He replied and let the familiar darkness swallow him whole.

[vagrantblvrd]

Stars Like Forever (1/1)

Summmary: This whole mess is not Geoff's fault no matter what anyone says. One hundred percent not on him because he makes one dumb comment - one - when Lindsay and Trevor come to him to complain about what Ryan's cost them in ammunition and heavy ordnance since he joined the crew full-time.

AO3

They're lazing on the roof having pool party like the ones he and Jack used to have back before all this. Before they got big enough to afford the penthouse with an actual pool.

A really awesome pool, sure, but is a billion times better right now. Ankle deep water in a  cheap plastic kiddie pool and cold beet in a cooler next to the shitty foldout lounge chairs. Feels more real than that fucking infinity pool.

Lindsay and Trevor come up to talk to them about budgeting and how Ryan keeps fucking up all their hard work when Geoff's a few beer in, a good buzz going on and feeling pretty damn satisfied with life at the moment.

“Well, what do you want me to do about it?” Geoff asks, like they think he can control the crazy motherfucker. “Put it on his annual evaluation as something to improve on? Write him a letter and put it in his locker after class?”

Geoff pitches his voice to a warbling falsetto and says, 'Dear Ryan, I would appreciate it so if you would be more careful about killing the assholes trying to kill us.  You're using so much ammunition! Keeping us from dying horribly is going over budget, please stop doing that. Love and kisses, Geoff. P.S. I love your creepy skull mask, it's so dreamy!'”

Gavin cracks up at that, laughing so hard it'd be a crime not to kick him off the rickety thing he's sprawled out on, really it would.

Geoff smirks at his startled squawk, laughs at the way Gavin sits up stupid sunglasses askew on his face as he screeches about Geoff spilling his beer.

Totally worth it.

Michael's shaking his head at the two of them, like he wasn't two seconds away from doing the same thing himself.

“Seriously though,” Geoff says, eyeing Linsdsay and Trevor over the top of his sunglasses. “If you two want to sit the goddamned Vagabond down and let him know he's going over the budget you've come up with, be my guest.”

Because y'know. Who the hell wants to get between Ryan and his weapons, really.

Lindsay rolls her eyes, conceding the point, but Trevor. Trevor's eyebrow goes up, expression unreadable and Geoff’s amusement fades.

It'd be Trevor. If anyone was stupid enough, crazy enough, to get between Ryan and his beloved weapons, it'd be Trevor.

Just as crazy as the rest of them, but the difference between them is that Trevor can hide his crazy. Make people think he's just a nice boy who dresses well and knows how to use his manners.

“No,” Geoff says, pointing at him. “Don't do the thing. For fuck's sake, do not do the thing.”

And because this is Trevor, he looks like he's considering doing the thing anyway. Tilts his head to the side and hmms>, eyes on Geoff as the corner of his mouth ticks up just so.

“Michael!” Geoff yells, so goddamned annoyed at his idiots. At least Michael listens to him. Sometimes. “Michael, tell Trevor not to do the thing!”

Michael, the brazen little bastard, grins in a way that means trouble.

“Trevor, no,” Michael says, in the flattest tone of voice Geoff's ever heard. “Don't do the thing.”

Geoff makes an aggravated sound and slouches down in his lounge chair, waving a hand at all of them, grinning and smirking and bullying the shit out of him.

“I fucking hate all of you.”

========

A few days later Gavin ambushes him when he's on the hunt for coffee, tired and feeling every one of his years.

And then he gets Gavin shoving a camera in his face while Michael grinning like a demented gremlin.

“Gavin, Christ, get that thing out of my face,” Geoff says, trying to shove it out of his face as he blinks away the aftereffects of having blinding light stabbing him in the eyeballs.

Gavin huffs, backing off a step and grumbling about Geoff being mincey, as if that's a real word, they've talked about this before at great length.

“What are you idiots doing?” Geoff asks, wondering just how long ago he lost control of his crew and why he didn't realize sooner.

Gavin explains, which means he spews out a jumbled mess of words interspersed with squawks and other unintelligible noises.

“Okay,” Geoff says slowly, and turns to Michael because he usually seems to know what Gavin's talking about on the rare occasions Geoff can't. “What, now?”

When Michael explains, amusement plain in his voice, it still doesn't make sense. Or rather, it does, but Geoff wishes it didn't.

“You want to make Ryan a video as a gift to celebrate the anniversary of him joining the crew,” Geoff says, even slower. Hoping like hell they'll laugh and tell him no, they're just kidding, really, Geoff. Good one, right?, but they don't.

  They don't.

Gavin keeps looking at him with a hopeful look on his face, and Michael looks like he's about to lose it, just break down and cry with laughter at Geoff's expense.

“Well,” Gavin says, head tipped to the side. “At first it was going to be a slideshow, yeah? Like the ones you learn how to do in school, but - “

“But Gavin wanted to use shitty pictures of Ryan,” Michael says, the scowl he's aiming at Gavin doing nothing to hide how stupidly fond he is of him. “Except Gavin here couldn't take shitty pictures if his life depended on it.”

Well that's blatantly untrue.

Gavin's taken so many shitty pictures of Geoff and the rest of the crew over the years. The kind that change hands easily as money with the crew, end up being used for blackmail purposes among their merry little band.

“Show him, Gav,” Michael says, taking the camera from Gavin when Gavin takes his phone out and brings up the pictures in question.

Geoff rolls his eyes as he leans in to look, and stares.

Gavin's got a great eye when it comes to shit like this, composition and all that. Things Geoff's picked up after hearing him prattle on about it over the years. Things that stick in his head without him consciously aware of it. That have him noticing things he would have missed completely before Gavin all but fell into his life.

And this.

It's Ryan, head turned to look to something just off-frame. He's not wearing the mask, face paint slightly smeared, and he's grinning.

Not that creepy serial killer grin of his that he claims is an act, just good old Ryan playing up his reputation, but.

The real, genuine one he gets around the crew, around people he likes. Trusts.

Wide and open and joyful - but that may have more to do with the orange cast to the picture, and when he notices that, Geoff realizes he knows when this was taken.

It happened right after Michael shot a police chopper down with his rocket launcher to cover Geoff and Jack during a heist, Ryan and Gavin waiting to be picked up. He remembers Ryan's stupid, dorky and being startled at hearing it for the first time, sharing a wide-eyed look with Jack.

There are other pictures, most of them along the same vein.  Ryan delighting in chaos and wanton destruction, and while it's this certain kind of disturbing, it's not like Geoff can go around pointing fingers here.

Not when it would make him a hypocrite if he did, because he remembers whooping loudly when Michael nailed that chopper.

The rush of adrenaline and exhilaration and fierce pride when Jack landed a jet pretty as you please on a busy street in the city and got them all out of there, cops hot on their tail. When Ray took a tank out for a joyride and made headlines for weeks afterwards.

There's more, too, though. Not just pictures of Ryan proving what a lunatic he is, but ones with Michael and Jack. Ray flashing a peace sign with a grin, the other assholes Geoff's made the mistake of bringing into the crew.

“Yeah,” Geoff says, handing Gavin's phone back, something rough in his voice. Fucking sleep, right? Always making you sound like shit in the morning. “Not exactly the kind of pictures you want to use in a  shitty slideshow with Comic Sans captions.”

Michael gives Geoff a knowing look, which. Horseshit, Michael's just as bad as he is, having feelings for these assholes. Getting warm, happy feelings knowing they're not completely miserable.

“That's why Michael said we should make a video instead,” Gavin chirps, bouncing a little on his feet as he takes the camera back from Michael and aims it at Geoff's face, little red light blinking.

“Geoff, what was it like for you when Ryan joined the crew?” Gavin asks, apparently making one of those terrible videos people film at weddings for the happy couple on their special day.

Geoff shoots Michael a look because the fucker could have warned him. Michael turns his head away so Geoff won't see him laugh at him. (He can still hear it just fine, though. Thanks, jackass.)

Gavin's giving Geoff a hopeful look from behind the camera, and Geoff sighs.

“Ryan joining the crew was one of the worst moments in my goddamn life,” Geoff answers, staring into the camera and imagining he's looking right into Ryan's eyes. “I mean it, Ryan. Fucking horrible. Nothing but regret on my part. Stop being a creepy motherfucker, you fucker.”

That done, he flicks his eyes to Gavin. “That good, Gavin?”

Gavin gets out a, “Geoff, no!” but he's laughing as he does, so it's probably not all that heartfelt.

========

Geoff's not lying when he says Ryan joining the crew was one of the worst moments of his life.

That might have more to do about finding out about the Snapchat Saga as Michael and Ray end up calling it, and realizing Gavin was flirting – badly, weirdly - with the goddamned Vagabond on Snapchat.

Ray running into the planning room where Geoff and Jack were discussing plans for their next heist, waving his phone and them and laughing so hard they couldn't understand him hadn't been fun. Less fun was Michael rushing in to ask them if they'd heard what Gavin had gotten himself into this time, and Lindsay calling him to demand to know what kind of third-rate circus he was running.

It wasn't so much Gavin pulling ridiculous shit in between heists, that had been bad. Lord knew he had a habit of coaxing Michael and Ray into some scheme or other. It was the fact that he was joyriding down Chiliad with the goddamned Vagabond driving, choppers circling overhead and a stream of police cars in pursuit.

He hadn't known what to expect when Gavin strolled into the penthouse the next day with Ryan trailing after him like it was any other day, nothing out of the ordinary here, no sir.

Things had only gotten worse from there when they all realized that Ryan's reputation was a bit. Not inflated, no, not when he was just as good, competent, as advertised, but.

The rumors left out the part where Ryan is a colossal dork, a nerd of the highest caliber who makes crappy jokes about coding languages and coos over a new weapon. Who is not above stupid, petty arguments and is frequently dragged down to Gavin's level while everyone else watches and wonders how they ever thought Ryan was a cool kid.

Fucker won't even let Geoff have the pleasure of telling other...associates that he  him over with his superior everything. That Ryan realized he'd be a fool not to throw in with Geoff Ramsey and the Fakes,  how fortunate he was they'd saved him from a life in obscurity.

No.

He'll just stand there being his usual creepy self and laugh at Geoff under his mask where no one can see, Gavin being a cheeky little shit and gushing about how great Geoff is.

How lucky they all are Geoff decided to give them a chance, laying it on thick as he brings out his Earnest Face because he's serious.

Geoff is the absolute best.

If the others are around, they'll close in like sharks scenting blood in the water, and  take joy from Geoff's suffering at the hands of two of his biggest mistakes. (Two out of many, most of whom allegedly work for him.)

========

Geoff walks into the penthouse one day and stops in his tracks because Sarah McLachlan is blaring – well, not blaring because Sarah McLachlan.

“What is happening right now.”

Someone's playing the newest shooter, a lot of people dying messily on the television screen. An explosion every so often that's probably the work of grenades.

Gavin pokes his head up over the back of the couch, frown on his face. A moment later, a mop of curls pokes into view before Michael's head appears.

“Gavin's working on another video for Ryan,” he answers, an implied duh in there. “I'm killing whiny little bitches.”

“Okay,” Geoff says, not sure if this is where it's revealed his lost his damn mind years ago and only now realizes it. “Riddle me this, assholes. Why does it sound like an emotionally manipulative ad for the ASPCA in here?”

Michael snorts, dropping back down.

“You know how Ryan messes with the newbies?” he asks, taking someone's head off in the video game with a bat he's picked up somewhere. “Gav's making a video of it. Like a work training video when Ryan's not around to fuck with 'em himself.”

That's.

Ryan does this thing with people new to the crew.

Well.

The ones who keep sliding furtive looks at the big bad Vagabond, wondering to themselves what his story is. Who hurt him, that he hides his face behind that mask of his, the even creepier face paint underneath like weird, fucked up Russian nesting doll. The ones who keep orbiting around him, until Ryan arranges to go on a job with them.

Something small with a lot of tedium in it. Staking out a rival crew or learning security patrol routes before a heist. Things that leave them with a lot of time to sit around on their asses.

And then Ryan starts dropping hints, little clues. Lets little things slip that the poor bastard teamed up with him roll around in their head for a while, coming to all the wrong conclusions. Thinking Ryan's past is a misery, nothing but suffering and hardship in it. That the only one able to help heal, to pull him out of the darkness of his past, the torment, was Geoff.

Most of them buy it hook, line, and sinker because in between all the suffering he was doing back then, Ryan somehow found time to do a bit of theater.

“Why, though,” Geoff finds himself saying, plaintive.

Michael cackles, and Gavin starts singing along to the song, and Geoff decides then and there to just give the fuck up already.

========

Ryan goes quiet when Gavin gives him the first video, the one infested with feelings and shit. Goes quiet and looks up at him, something vulnerable in his face because Gavin took those pictures, filmed those videos.

Always right there with Ryan getting up to mischief, egging him on and laughing stupidly when he gave in and indulged Gavin, that soft spot for him that started up who the hell knows long ago. Got worse the more involved with the idiot he became, until he pulled a big damn hero moment and saved him from the cops.

It's pretty awkward for Geoff and the rest of the crew witnessing it, heading right into unbelievably disgusting when Ryan pulls Gavin into a kiss like he forgot they aren't alone. That the rest of the crew threw together a crappy little surprise party complete with cheap party favors and cake.

But, nah.

Ryan's taking a page from sappy romance novels. The kind of bullshit that's all about (badly written) purple prose containing orbs the color of gemstones.

“Jesus Christ,” Geoff sighs, so incredibly, unbelievable done with these morons. “Save it for later, when we don't have to fucking see it, you fucks.”

========

And of course Ryan just loves the second video.

Watches it over and over again while they're all trapped there, horrified at what they've allowed to happen. Their own worst enemy, until Michael shoots the television to make it stop, and Geoff isn't even mad about it because he knows he'll be having nightmares about that song for months afterward.

(Geoff, in fact,  may or may not give Michael a bigger cut of the take on their next heist as a show of gratitude, but no one can prove it if he did.)