#has an expensive hairpin

[frogaroundandfindout]

They’re so character

[backinmyphase]

Not your husband

Summary: You are going to marry the Satoru Gojo. A dream come true right? Well when he doesn't even show up to the meetings to arrange your marriage, it becomes clear that it's more a nightmare.

Or: Satoru Gojo doesn't even know how attached he will grow to his wife yet.

Pairing: Gojo x reader, 3040 words

Next part Masterlist

Sane Geto AU (I am an Angst writer, but not like Gege. Please excuse any errors in my writing)

The world of Jujutsu was never a world for you.

Born into a clan, which only saw your value in your technique. Born into a family, which only saw your mistakes. Born from a mother, who had the same problems but still resented you.

Born into a world full of curses but still being told you were the biggest of all.

"Don't daydream, you will make a bad impression. And you really can't afford that."

The woman in front of you isn't pleased. She isn't since she knew she wouldn't give life to boy.

It's hard as woman in a Jujutsu clan.

It's not about how your technique can help you, it's about how your technique could help your son at exorcising curses.

"Yes, mother."

She frowns as she looks at you. Displeased she fixes her posture a bit, signaling you to do the same. You obey.

"You can't afford to make any mistakes today. Just do as I told you. I can only hope you have learned anything."

As you nod you realize what all this means. The dress kimono you are wearing. The expensive tea that is ready to serve. The hairpin you have gotten from your mother, who did your hair today.

All of it becomes so real.

Your husband has been decided.

"You won't say anything, until you are being asked." The woman hissed. "And please keep a smile on your boring face, then it at least looks not so simple."

You never discovered your technique and what you could do with it. It wasn't easy. Knowing that everything you did would result in you being married of.

And as you sat here in this big room with your mother, you could only wonder.

Who would your husband be? Could it be someone who understood you?

Someone you could love?

As the door opened you saw your father who looked onto the ground as he spoke.

"They are here."

Your mother only nodded, as your father closed the door. Just a few minutes later the door was opened again.

And a beautiful woman stepped inside.

She smiled at your mother as she took a seat in front of her. But the smile was the same as the smile of your mother. And maybe the same of your own.

As she sat down on the opposite side, you served the tea. The best tea your clan could afford.

For a man that didn't seem to have come.

The woman gave an apologetic smile. "My sincere apologies, but my son... Well he is in a bit of a rebellious phase, which lead of him disappearing before this meeting."

Your mother's smile faded a bit. "Does he know of what importance this meeting is for our clans?"

The woman laughed. "Oh, he knows." She slightly eyed you before she spoke again. "He just doesn't care."

Silence flodded the room. It was like a cold hand slidded down your back as you realized.

"I hope the Gojo Clan will show more interest in our connection. We will be very disappointed if not." The smile of your mother was just as cold as the hand that seemed to choke you.

This was Mrs. Gojo. The mother of the strongest.

Gojo Satoru.

The one who seemingly stood above anyone. The one who jumped at every opportunity to mess with the higher ups.

Who will be your husband.

And he didn't even show up to meet you.

"Of course. He will learn." The woman sighed as she spared you a glance again. Then she smiled that smile again.

And you mirrored it.

"Your future husband isn't the easiest person." The woman sighed as she looked at you. "Even as a baby he knew what he wanted and how to get it."

Not knowing how to react you just nodded.

The woman laughed at that. "But no worries! Even though he is... Difficult, you will love him. He has that effect on people."

Your mouth dried up at the mention of love. How could this woman talk about love at the table your arranged marriage would be discussed? How could she talk about love when you didn't even have a saying in this arrangement? How, when you will marry the strongest?

Satoru Gojo?

"I really hope that he will learn." Your mother smiled while taking a sip from her tea. "He should know that his actions are what keep the Gojo Clan still important. He shouldn't throw that away."

The tension grew a lot, as Mrs. Gojo mirrored the smile and took a sip of the tea. "Well at least I brought him to our Clan. In the end that's the biggest thing a woman could achieve right?"

It was sick. We lived in modern times, but the Jujutsu Society was still so far behind, floating under the radar, with the excuse of making the world a better place.

"It's true." Your mother sighed as she lowered her cup. "The strongest really is the biggest achievement you could have ever accomplished. Being the parent of such a child... But I wonder..."

Your mother now didn't even try to hide her distain. "Why does his mother not have him under control?"

Klirrr

"Because." Mrs. Gojo's hand shook as it held the broken cup. The sharp shards cutting into it. "As a boy, he can have this freedom."

The black tea in your cup grew cold as long with the atmosphere in the room. Your mother stood up and left the room without a word. Her steps filled the silence in the room. And as she closed the door the woman in front of you sighed.

"Difficult woman, isn't she?" Mrs. Gojo let go of the cup shards while hissing. Her mask no longer in tact as she didn't smile anymore.

"Well who isn't?"

She looked at you surprised and then chuckled. "I guess you are right."

On the same day the arrangement was consolidated. It was official.

You will marry Satoru Gojo.

~~

"Suguru, how could this happen? To me?" Satoru whined as he complained to his best friend. "It all has to be a bad joke, right?"

"No, it sounds like a normal thing in jujutsu clans. I'm just confused why you didn't have any saying. You know, as the strongest." Suguru didn't look up from his book as his best friend groaned.

"That's what I'm saying! I don't give a damn about this whole clan thing."

As they were sitting in the park near their mission, they of course already finished not even breaking a sweat, the sun slowly set.

"It is a really bad system. How the clans only strive after power and never consider the lives of their toles." Suguru muttered as he turned the page.

"And now I have to marry a random girl I don't even know!" Satoru groaned again and buried his face in his hands.

"And she has to marry you." Suguru sighed.

Satoru looked at him slightly annoyed. "What do you want to say? Just say it."

"Well, I am sure, she is just as horrified as you at the sound of marriage. I'm just saying you could at least try to get to know her."

"I'm not going there." Stubbornly Satoru shook his head. "Never. I'm not giving them that satisfaction."

Suguru looked up at his friend and now he shook his head. "I pity your soon to be wife."

Offended, Satoru turned to his friend. "Hey! I'm your friend in need here!"

Suguru placed his bookmark gently in his book and then closed it. "Just promise you will show up to the wedding."

Satoru grinned. "Why? You scared of the higher-ups for me?"

"Not for you." He stood up as he looked down at his friend.

"For your wife. If an arranged marriage isn't going well, you know who gets blamed. And what you're doing is just cruel to her."

Gojo didn't say anything as he put on his blindfold.

~

"Do I look pretty?"

You didn't dare be louder than a whisper. "Mother?"

Her sigh gave you confirmation that she wasn't pleased. As she looked you up and down, her frown never disappeared. "As long you don't make that face, it's passable."

She stood up. "For a wedding you look... I just hope your husband will like you at your best."

"Soon to be husband." you corrected her quietly as you looked in the mirror.

"What?"

"Nothing."

She raised a brow but nodded slowly. Then she paced through the room impatiently. "That woman still hasn't given us any signs."

"Mrs. Gojo is probably seating the guests." a little part of you wanted to defend this woman. Your future mother in law.

"Or the groom makes problems again." your mother shook her head, like always when she spoke about the young Gojo.

After he didn't show up to a single meeting, she was sure that Mrs. Gojo didn't raise him right and that she as his mother should be blamed.

It was so pathetic. How you already felt his displeasure, his hatred towards you.

"Mother?"

"What is it?" she was annoyed.

"What was your wedding like?"

...

"Just like this one. It's tradition in our clan." her face was stone cold.

And you felt sympathy for her. She also had an arranged marriage. A wedding in which she didn't have any saying. A husband who she never chose.

"It's the bride's moment." The voice of Mrs. Gojo halled through the room.

Your mother smiled at you. You smiled back.

"Just don't mess it up."

~~

There were too many guests. Mostly people you didn't know. And all of them looked at you, while you made your way to the altar.

Under their stares you felt small.

But there was also this man. This guy with white hair, that stood at the end of your path. This boy that refused to even meet you before the wedding.

He gave you a glance and then continued to stubbornly look straight ahead.

As you stood before him, he didn't seem to be here with his thoughts.

And at this moment you knew he didn't want to marry you. No, you knew that before. But you knew that he would never open up or try to make this work.

And you didn't want that.

"I do."

No, you really didn't. And as he spatted the same words you knew that he was lying too.

~~

"Oh, you lucky girl!" The old woman, you didn't even know, said.

The after ceremony was not nice. All the guests wanted to talk to Gojo and some, not many pestered you. What really stung you was that they made more effort to talk to you than your own husband did.

"To marry such a handsome man." she looked at you and smiled knowingly.

"Of course it's an honor to marry Gojo Satoru as he is an important figure for the jujutsu society." Everything you said sounded like a broken record that lost any meaning.

She chuckled. "You can be honest with me. An heir will be on the way shortly, right?"

You hated this talk about an heir. Hated, hated, hated this people that keep telling you to hurry up and sleep with this man that didn't even look at you.

"We will see."

She laughed at that. And somehow you managed to excuse yourself from the conversation.

The rest of the evening was torture, but you somehow survived. Gojo didn't talk to you. He just disappeared at some point, leaving you alone in the cave of the lions.

His mother was right. He was a difficult person.

You hated that you had to ask around to be driven to his estate. Hated, that he didn't open the door, it was the personal chef that was going to leave. Hated, that you stood alone in this cold house.

He seemed to like to leave you alone. To just go.

You didn't want to sleep at this house. You didn't want to, but where should you go? Where could a place be, where you could hide?

Gojo had places. Not you.

You slept on the couch that evening. Your wedding dress was still on, as you didn't know what in this big house was to wear for you.

~~

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Satoru didn't like to hear that from his best friend, as he stood at his doorstep.

"I just need a place to sleep."

"I said to go to the wedding." Suguru felt like babysitting a toddler.

"And I did."

"Then why are you here? And not with your wife at your house?" Suguru slowly began to lose his patience.

"Can you just let me in, you ass?"

After shaking his head, Suguru opened his door wide enough to let Gojo in.

"Why are you here?" he wasn't going to make it easy for Satoru to forget he left you there.

"Had enough."

"You're such a child." Suguru shook his head. That's what ticked Gojo off.

"Stop it!" He threw his shoes on the floor.

"You can't judge me! Not when you don't know how it feels to have your future stripped from you just because you have been born in this family!"

Suguru kept silent this time.

~~

Your things were shiped to this mansion you should now live in. It wasn't a lot but your necessary clothes. Finally.

Finally you could take the dress off.

The clothing that reminded you that this was real. That your reason in life was already fulfilled and now you should just cease to exist.

No, that wasn't true, was it? You still had to bring an heir.

Will you ever get used to this new prison? You doubt it.

It was so big and cold. So many things but it didn't have this personal touch. It felt empty, unloved. Did Gojo even live here?

Well it seems like he wouldn't if you were here.

It was stupid. You didn't know him, just saw him yesterday for the first time in person. And still it was so clear he wouldn't make it easy for you.

You felt unloved.

"A letter, Mrs. Gojo."

The sudden voice blew you away from your thoughts. Another thing you wouldn't get used to. There were servants for the Clan leader. Like this girl. They were only needed in the kitchen, but it still felt wrong.

And something felt so wrong with being called this name.

"From who?"

The girl before you had a pitiful look. "Your mother." She cleared her throat. "She said, it's about your arrangement."

As you looked down at this paper, it felt like cursed energy was coming from it.

"Oh. Alright, thank you." Hesitating you took the letter.

The girl just nodded and made her way to the kitchen. The silence in this house was haunting.

Again you looked at the letter in your hands, and wished it was only paper. What should you do from now on? How would you spend your life?

Well obviously not with your husband as he wasn't even here.

And you would make sure that he didn't see the letters from your clan.

~~

"You're here." Satoru Gojo didn't seem pleased to see his wife in his house at this evening. Rather displeased, the way he frowned like a little child.

'Well.' you thought. 'That's to damn bad. He should have come to the arrangement hours.'

"Yeah. I have to be."

He didn't even look at you. Humiliation after humiliation. What would your child self say? Seeing that your own husband didn't even look or smile at you? The hopeless romantic would be crushed.

And now they definitely are.

"I see." His voice was barely audible. Oh, what a humiliation this must be for him! The strongest! Not even in control of his own marriage.

You really should pity him. Be understanding. Like the good wife your mother wanted you to be.

But you didn't have the strength to do that. No, you didn't sympathize with this man, that stood in front of you. The one who had the privilege of doing what he wanted till now just because he was blessed. Because he was born a boy.

And you were not.

"My things were brought this morning and Hina showed me around. I already-"

"Who is Hina?" Gojo sounded confused.

"The servant girl. The one who helps to cook?" you couldn't believe him. She even told you that she was working here since 3 years!

"Oh, yeah she. Continue."

You didn't like his tone, you didn't like his attitude, you didn't like that you didn't knew anything about him BECAUSE HE DIDN'T SHOW UP TO ANY-

"I already have my own room. I won't bother you." While trying to keep the bitterness down you started to whisper.

"What?"

As you looked up at him, your mind went blank. For the first time Satoru looked at you. With his big blue beautiful eyes, he looked at you. So mesmerizing that you almost forgot about your bitterness towards him.

Almost.

"I already have my own room. I won't bother you in any mean. We can also eat separately. In fact I would prefer that."

He snorted. "That's childish. Not even eating together."

And that broke the straw. The straw your patience was hanging on sooooo desperately.

"You." you poked his chest with force. "Can't tell me what's childish or not."

Your voice grew a bit. "You can't, not after not attending any meetings, actively trying to get away from me on our wedding day, leaving me alone for our clan people, leaving me alone for the night way to a new house I have to call home now!"

He kept silent. Like all the times you saw him.

"SO EXCUSE ME." You made your way to your room, shouting to make sure he knew what you said.

"IF I THINK MY HUSBAND DOESN'T WANT TO SEE ME AT ALL! AND IF I DON'T WANT TO HAVE MYSELF SUFFER THROUGH IT!"

You slammed the door with force.

You don't think your husband will ever even like you. Or if Gojo would ever even be your husband.

[echantedtoon]

Bouquets/Flowers They'd Give You

Nothing much. Just some headcannons about what kind of bouquets the demons would gift you. Maybe modern au maybe not idk. None of the images are mine I just found them on Google and Pinterest. Daki n Rui are platonic gift givers. No romance from those two.

Kokushibo is a traditional man and as such would stick with the classic but beautiful full rose bouquet sometimes with baby breath to make it asthetically pleasing.

Is it really a surprise this guy would get you something that reminds the both of you of him? They're very pretty though so it's all good.

You want a teddy bear, flowers, balloons for your special date? This man gets you all in one package and makes sure to make it pleasing to look at. Everything for his darling.

If it's regular Kny he'd just scoop up whatever wild flowers are growing around him and present them to you but since we're going with modern here, he doesn't have a lot of money to throw away on flowers that'll just die so he takes his time to really make you something permanent you both can cherish forever by doing origami. The many paper cuts are worth it seeing you smile.

In a similar way to Gyutaro, Daki would want to gift something permanent you both could enjoy forever however she'd be more splurge-y than her brother and gift you a flower clip or hairpin.

Kaigaku barely gets you flowers in the first place but if you mention wanting to be gifted flowers long enough or if it's a special enough occasion he wants to celebrate, he'll get you something. But not a full bouquet, he'll just get you a simple rose or flower.

Nakime really doesn't get you flowers too often either, but on the rare occasion she does it's either a single rose like Kaigaku or flowers matching her own aesthetic.

So I just found out that seashell bouquets are actually a thing, and they have to be glued together and stuff. Seems like a good enough fit for the fish man.

Look he can be a sappy romantic if he wants to be. A big bouquet of roses and chocolate strawberries are the object of his choice if he's going to go all out.

he often worries about what to get you. He doesnt want to look too guady with a fancy oversized bouquet but he's also worried about a single flower not being enough so he gets you something in the middle all tied up in ribbon and lace. Please tell him you love it, he's very nervous.

This guy has money to burn. He practically shoves one of those really beautiful but really expensive bouquets with the big flowers covered in gems in your arms and calls it a day. It's expensive and maybe tacky but he doesn't see it that way.

like any sweet child, he just plucks whatever flowers he finds growing on the ground and gifts it to anyone he likes.

[srjlvr]

WHAT’s IN MY BAG ?!

what would ENHA members put in their bag that reminds them of you.

idol-ot7!enha x nonidol-fem!reader | genre fluff | warnings none (lmk if i missed smth) | not proofread ! | ✎ ᝰ (‘a note from jo’) . don’t even ask me how i thought about it bc i honestly dont know

희승 <> heeseung

he’d probably go around with your beauty products like hand creams and such.

it’s the ones you always use and even asked heeseung to buy them for you a few times when you ran out of it.

you sometimes happen to forget them when you two are going out—no worries!! heeseung is always here to rescue.

“what’s your favorite thing you keep in your bag?” the interviewer asks. heeseung looks through his bag and smiles when he sees something that reminds him of you, he takes it out and chuckles, “y/n always uses them, i thought it’d be good if i keep them since she always forgets them when we go out”

제이 <> jay

he’d definitely carry your perfume in his bag. he bought it to you once as a gift and ever since then it became your favorite perfume ever.

sometimes when you’re far from each other, he’d put on your perfume he carries around just because he misses you.

always buys extras and gives them to you but leaves one in his bag just incase he rans out of it and isn’t able to buy more at the moment.

“what’s the most expensive thing in your bag?” the interviewer asks, clearly making them to show off. jay immediately takes out your perfume and grins, “i bought it for y/n as a gift, but i didn’t expect her to like it as much as she does now, so i buy it more often now and it’s somehow the most expensive one”

“i use it a lot, i always think about y/n when i do” he smiles and nods, the members all sniffing him and giggling.

제이크 <> jake

before the two of you got together, you made him a heart shaped paper with a cute drawing on it.

he’d definitely carry that around, even if it looks old and wrinkled, he loves it.

always shows it to people since he adores it so much and wants to show off about how amazing you are.

“what’s the thing you’d never agree to give away?” the interviewer asks. jake, without a doubt takes out the heart shaped old and wrinkled paper with a big smile on his face, “y/n made it for me before we started dating, at that moment i knew i had to do everything to make her mine”

성훈 <> sunghoon

sunghoon loves taking pictures. he especially likes taking polaroid pictures with you, and of you alone.

he’d go around with a little album of your polaroids together, there’s nothing he loves more than looking through those pictures whenever you two are far away from each other.

would take it ANYWHERE he goes, and always adds new polaroids when he gets the time to take new pictures.

“what’s one thing you’d never get rid off?” the interviewer asks. sunghoon takes out the little album and smiles as he shows a few pictures of the two of you together, “it’s me and y/n in those pictures, i have this album for over a year and we’re always taking new pictures, i always look at them whenever i miss her”

the poor boy blushes and covers his face, the rest are busy pouting, “it’s the fact that he doesn’t even have pictures with us in his bag that saddens us”

선우 <> sunoo

gahhh i feel like he’d definitely carry around hair products in his bag—such as hairpins and hair ties.

he loves loves LOVES styling your hair, and always has an emergency hairpins and hair ties just incase.

your hairpin broke? sunoo’s here to fix it for you. your hair tie is not holding enough? sunoo’s. here. to. fix. that.

“what’s a thing you rarely use but still have it?” the interviewer asks. sunoo knows the answer right away and takes out the hairpins and hair ties with a giggle, “i use it on y/n mostly since i can’t really style my hair with these, but she needs them a lot so i carry it around”

정원 <> jungwon

the amount of wireless earbuds that you lost is insane. jungwon, being the responsible he is—still uses his first earbuds ever.

when you bought a new pair, jungwon decided to buy an extra one. he puts it in his bag and carries it around in case you’d come up to him and tell him you lost it again.

lost a pair again? jungwon pulls out the extra he bought you last time, and would probably buy an extra one again since he can’t trust you on this one. would he mind? no, not at all.

“what’s a thing you actually have twice of it?” the interviewer asks. jungwon laughs as soon as he hears the question, taking out the earbuds he bought recently, “i have my own earbuds, and these one are extra for y/n, she keeps loosing her earbuds all the time so i keep extras in my bag for her”

“it’s quite expensive isn’t it?” the interviewer asks and jungwon nods, “but i don’t mind since it always reminds me of her”

니키 <> ni-ki

both ni-ki and you LOVE sunglasses. you even bought matching ones once! ni-ki would probably carry one of your favorite sunglasses in his bag.

you have your own that you love and usually wear, but the one ni-ki carries is your most expensive and favorite one.

as much as he loves his own sunglasses, he’d wear yours whenever he misses you a lot, that way he can feel your embrace next to him, even if you’re not physically by his side.

“what’s your favorite accessory in your bag?” the interviewer asks. ni-ki smiles and slowly takes out your sunglasses, “it actually belongs to y/n, but i took it. we both love sunglasses and we bought matching ones, but since these are her favorites i carry them around and wear them all the time”

••• copyright © srjlvr all rights are reserved.

[fatkish]

Alpha Muzan x Omega Reader

Muzan is no stranger to eating omegas

He’s come across plenty of them and they’ve always smelled delicious

But you were different

Back in the Heian era, it was a popular belief that true mates existed

When you find your true mate, you’re supposedly overcome with an intense desire to be close to them. Never wanting to leave their side

Alphas will feel an immediate urge to protect their true mate and a sense of responsibility for their maté’s wellbeing

An omega will feel an immediate attraction and a sense of comfort

When Muzan caught the scent of a particularly enticing omega, he followed the scent

When his eyes met yours he felt a spark inside of him

He never believed in true mates, but since he couldn’t bring himself to devour you he decided to kidnap you instead

He brought you to the infinity castle and made sure to keep you close to him as well as order his demons not to harm you

He had no idea what he was going to do with you but your constant whines and whimpers were driving him crazy with a sense to protect and provide for you

In order to shut you up he left the castle and gathered a bunch of necessities for an omega

He brought you plenty of nesting materials for you to build a nest with as well as food

When he’s working, if you ask him to cuddle with you, he’ll say no but after a bit of your pleads and whines, he’ll relent

He’ll crawl into your nest and let you snuggle up to him

Sometimes when you’re snuggling with him he’ll bring a book and read to you

He doesn’t know why but having you close to him brings him a sense of peace

He eventually realized that the infinity castle was not a good place for you

He made Kokushibo find a small secluded house that you could comfortably live in

Muzan brought you there and made sure that any demon who came near the house would immediately recognize his scent and would leave you alone

Muzan made a small office/study for himself to work in so that he wouldn’t have to leave as often

You started a garden outside and made sure to stay within earshot of Muzan, since he gets grumpy when he can’t see you

Your garden contains lots of vegetables and herbs and there are also some fruit trees in the surrounding forest

You mostly live off the land, you have a small chicken coop and you fish in the river nearby

If there are things that you need that you can’t grow or forage yourself then Muzan will get them for you

Muzan has taught you many things such as how to make medicine from plants and plant identification

His office has a bunch of books that you’ll read. You like to collect flowers and put them in a vase in his office

When he has to leave for a bit he makes sure that either Kokushibo or Akaza are nearby to assist you should something happen

Muzan is paranoid that the demon slayers will find you and take you away

Despite his cruel and selfish personality, he grows a soft spot for you and he is whipped for you

While he travels he’ll find things that he thinks you’ll like and gets them for you as gifts

He enjoys spoiling you, he’ll buy fancy kimonos for you, expensive hairpins, etc.

Despite his gifts which you deeply appreciate and treasure, you always tell him that he’s the best gift you could ever receive

When you ask him about his work or question his studies he’ll carefully explain them to you so that you can understand

Sometimes you’ll just sit in a chair and watch him work. He’s asked you why you do this and you always tell him that you’re fascinated by what he’s doing

He’s very protective of you. Whenever you’re cooking and handling a knife, he watches you closely, making sure you don’t hurt yourself

Sometimes at night when you both are cuddling in your nest, he’ll lay his head on your chest and let you run your fingers through his hair

Sometimes he’ll let you brush his hair. He even grows his hair long so that you have plenty to play with

He does plan on turning you into a demon but he just doesn’t know when he’s going to

He first wants to conquer the sun, then he’ll turn you into a demon who can also withstand the sun

[vrystalius]

Could you do a "the demon that steals me gifts" with gyutaro? ^_^ like he brings reader jewelry and things

The demon that steals jewerly for me

Here’s part 2, the demon that stole my heart.

(stalker!Gyutaro x oiran!reader, implied sexual assault ((not from our baby boy!!)) )

You knew that somebody was watching, and has been for a while. An old customer who wishes to bed you again? A jealous wife of a husband you were paid to sleep with? No, the eyes that were watching you feel much more piercing and obsessive. Demonic, almost.

But you don’t really care. Your beauty is unmatched, your gracefulness your image and your face being the moneymaker to lure your customers in. Your lady planned to never let you leave this brothel until you grow old and “unusable”.

You hated this. You hated your lady, you hated the filthy men that know no boundaries or what the word “no” means, you hated this room, this stained bed and your miserable life. So what’s a stalker on top of that?

But lately, you began finding gifts neatly placed on your bedside table, wrapped in an expensive cloth of silk, matching your favourite kimono. Wrapped in this cloth was a beautiful, golden plated and gem decorated hairpin. It was the most amazing handcrafted item you’ve ever had the honour of holding in your hands. You saw the higher-class oirans wear them before, so how did this fall into your lower-class hands? Perhaps it was your lady thanking you for your exhausting service. You decided to wear it daily with pride. This made you look more expensive and perhaps you could demand more payment for a session. You treated this hairpin with extensive care and made sure to clean it every night, before putting it back into your hair for another shift.

From this day on, every night you found another expensive jewelry item, wrapped in another silken cloth. You now have a full box of pins, necklaces, earrings, rings and more hairpins that are probably worth over thousands of yen.

Is this stalker doing all this? Are they climbing into your room while you slept to give you these? You strangely felt warmth pool inside your stomach. You wondered though, why aren’t they visiting you in person? It’s not that you want to have sex with them like the other filthy animals, you just want to meet them in person. Then again, this stalker gifted you all these things by breaking into your bedroom. Yet he was respectful enough to not defile you in your sleep. You caught yourself looking forward to finding the gifts on your bedside table. This stalker was being so nice to you, aren’t they?

You tried to wake yourself up when you sense someone else in your room in hopes to catch this person in the act. You wanted nothing more than to meet them face to face and thank them for the gifts. Your feelings towards this person began to shift even more as you started to fantasise what they might look like.Are they a man or a woman? Are they beautiful? Rich? A businessman of some sort? Would they be willing to marry you and get you out of this hellhole?

One night, you woke up in your sleep by the sound of someone entering your room through your window. You kept your eyes shut and acted like as if you’re asleep, waiting on the right moment to confront them. But while you tried to intimate your sleeping state, a finger gently ran through your hair. The touch was incredibly gentle and careful as if fearing to break you like a fragile vase and you couldn’t help but smile a little and blush as your stomach was filled with butterflies. The person shifted and placed your gift on the beside table before turning around to leave. The window opened, but you quickly sat up in your bed. You stared at the… thing… sitting on your window shelf.

He had gray, sickly skin, decorated with black spots. His hair looked matted and green, as if not washed in centuries. His teeth were sharp and crooked, his eyes droopy and sad. His body was unnaturally thin and starved, being able to count every single bone in his body. He was hunched over with his spine completely visible, as if about to rip his skin open. That was no human, that’s a demon. You stared at the creature with big eyes. He was staring back, beginning to scratch his skin open nervously, blood dripping down onto the wooden shelf.

“D-Don’t l-look at me, p-pretty!! L-Look away- I-I’m too dirty t-to be l-looked at…”

You couldn’t help but blush after hearing his croaky voice. Your shoulders relaxed as you bit down onto your lower lip.

For some reason, you felt… aroused?

💠

Gyutaro is the first character I fell for in kny, I love him so so much! He’s such a baby. I want to hold this mass murderer and tell him he’s beautiful and handsome. I cried during his backstory…

Thank you so much for requesting this! I was thinking about what to write for Gyutaro in the The Demon that series for so long, so thank you for helping me out!! I may make another part for Gyutaro where you just cuddle him. The Demon that stalked me and that I know cuddle? Hmm…

Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough!

Take care of yourselves <3

The Demon that… (masterlist)

[callmecrazy4u2]

HSR Version: Your Yandere Likes you in his colors..Aventurine, Ratio, More to come

Anonymous gifts at your door pile up. Who do you choose?

"Don't protest dear these clothes look wonderful on you darling"

A Cheshire cat he smiles satisfied he had dressed you in his colors to claim you.

Aventurine- green gold teal- Possessive! Peacock!Yandere

Aventurine is sure to shower his love with clothes in a Jewelike tone that matches his eyes and his own flamboyant attire. The first his gloves he slips off or perhaps his coat seeing you pathetic thing shaking in the cold.

Aventurine laughs off any protests "You look cold my dear and you pull off those colors quite well"

Pehrs he'll take it further and wrap you in his coat only to give you one like his own later as he enjoyed seeing you in his quite a lot. His mind drifts to other scenarios you might be in his clothes for....

A signature feather caught up in a headband. For a party a speakeasy-style "Sweetie just loosen up lets enjoy the parties in penaconys" as with wink escort to 90s bar in Penacony for some swing dancing.

Lastly, the Gift that binds you as his: A large jeweled necklace a mimicry of his own Aventurine stonearound your neck. The right noose for the stone of trickery to hang on your pretty neck to stake his claim.

owl mask pin - Dr. Ratio - blue gold - Always right taskmaster teacher

For better or worse you managed to reach the standard of the intellgentisua guild and your proctor why Dr. Ratio whos sharp eye always seemed to watch you in class analyzing your every move.

Dr.Ratio would start out simple maybe a owl bookmark to "keep you reading to avoid falling into ignorance and idiocy" his eyes on you as a new member of the intelligencia guild tasked to mentor you.

To supervise your effort though with your clumsiness he wonders how you had tripped into the elite group. Eventually, upon watching you he believes your hard work can make up for any lack of talent.

Dr. Ratio just wanted to teach you to do it right and "You need the right materials to succeed" Dr. Ratio says as you press upon you another a expensive gift a ink well owl feather pen. Though unaware of the value if you break it he can find some way for you to make it up to him.....

"Congratulations somehow you passed the intellgenstia's passed rigous exam" Dr. Ratio drawls earning your a rare smile from him

Dr.Ratio pins the ceremonial owl pin on your robe similar to his "As every graduate has" he calmly tells you.

secretly Yandere!Dr Ratio just wanted you to match clothing

Dr. Ratio leans in to pin the medal he instructs you to see him later for extra lessons....

More concepts to come

Gift - HSR guy- color theme- type of yandere

lion choker -Jing Yuan - smothering delusional yandere

sword hairpin- blade- dangerous yandere

dragon bracelet -dan heng/danfeng- protective yandere

dove ring- Sunday- controlling yandere

-singer at a show on stage fall for robin rival while staking her out and capture her in work contract to sing only for him

[gayloringinplainsight]

Hetlors: They’re just friends omg!!

Gaylors: “I hate accidents except when we went from friends to this”

Hetlors: Don’t sexualize her friendships!

Gaylors: “I don’t want you like a best friend”

Hetlors: Stop speculating on her sexuality!!

Gaylors: “I want *her* midnights”

Hetlors: She only says stuff like that to make gay people feel included!!

Gaylors: “She is the best thing that’s ever been mine”

Hetlors: She’s dated men publicly!!

Gaylors: “I loved you in secret”

Hetlors: She’s dated LOTS of men publicly!!!

Gaylors: “Privacy sign on the door / And on my page and on the whole world / Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours”

Hetlors: She likes men!!!

Gaylors: “All the boys and their expensive cars…never took me quite where you do”

Hetlors: You’re delulu if you think any of her lyrics are gay!!!

Gaylors: “I swear you could hear a hairpin drop”

Hetlors: The garden gate is at Joe’s parent’s house!!!!

Gaylors: “I don’t wanna keep secrets just to keep you”

Hetlors: She’s straight jesus christ!!!

Gaylors: “Can’t walk straight / Can’t talk straight”

Hetlors: She’s on top of the world! She doesn't have to hide anything!!

Gaylors: “For you I would fall from grace”

Hetlors: She has to HIDE from the MEDIA because PAPARAZZI!!

Gaylors: “We’re a crooked love in a straight line down”

Hetlors: Look how PUBLIC and HAPPY and HETERO she is with Travis!!

Gaylors: “All these people think love’s for show / but I would die for you in secret”

Hetlors: Read her lyrics!!

Gaylors: “The lips I used to call home / so scarlet it was maroon”

Hetlors: Bearding isn’t real!!!

Gaylors: “I used to switch out these Kens / I’d just ghost”

Hetlors: Queer flagging isn’t a thing!!!!

Gaylors: “Takes one to know one”

Hetlors: Saying she dated Harry and Joe and Jake isn’t speculating on her sexuality because that’s NORMAL!!!!

Gaylors: “We broke the status quo and then we broke each other’s hearts”

Hetlors: It’s only okay to speculate on her sexuality when it’s straight!!!!

Gaylors: “So we went on our way / too in love to think straight”

Hetlors: She would tell us if she was gay!!!!!

Gaylors: “So I wander through these nights / I prefer hiding in plain sight”

Hetlors: It’s FICTIONAL!!!

Gaylors: “I loved you in spite of / deep fears that the world would divide us”

Hetlors: THE PROLOGUE!!!!!

Gaylors: “TRUTH IS I CAN’T PRETEND IT’S PLATONIC”

Hetlors: SHE HASN’T SAID SHE’S GAY SO SHE’S NOT GAY!!!!!!

Gaylors: “SHADE NEVER MADE ANYBODY LESS GAY!”

Hetlors: I HATE GAYS SO SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UPPPPP!!!!!!!

Gaylors:

Gaylors:

Gaylors:

Gaylors: “Haven’t you heard what becomes of curious minds?”

[sweepingboy]

sure general xuan zhen dresses nicely all expensive robes and shiny armor but every element in his outfits serves to empathize his might and status. shoulder plates make him look broader, neat belt and robes reflect his prideful strict character, simple but elegant embroidery on the sleeves gives away the refined taste of the owner...

he almost never dresses in a way that emphasizes his beauty. but now as he frowns clad in tones of orange, in translucent robes, they echo the slight blush on his cheeks. "not a word about it," he hisses to xie lian and feng xin standing on the other side of a room.

"you look very good!" the prince exclaims awkwardly as feng xin tries to say something, anything.

his gaze slides again and again over the curves of his chest, thin waist, strong legs. magnolia hairpins in his hair, the thin gold chains all over his body ... he feels as if mu qing has hit him on the head again in the celestial capital. the female ghost conjuring his makeup notices the god's confusion and giggles "don't worry dear you look stunning"

"i just want this mission to be over already" mu qing says miserably.

"i don't want this to end any soon" feng xin thinks .

[lumilovessmut]

BEYOND THE VEIL OF HUMANITY

PRINCE BAIZHU X PRINCESS READER

Trigger warnings: Monster-fucking, innocent shy reader, reader is kinda naïve and innocent, nicknames such as dear, sweetheart, love, breeding kink, slight yandere themes, olden Chinese time period, established relationship, dom-sub dynamics, penetration.

A/n: Hey loves!! It's Lumi here, as promised this week's post is here hope you all like it! I have exams but I still wanted to entertain you guys lmao :0

Sry guys I'm going on a hiatus till May

Credits: This painting belongs to a Vietnamese artist on Facebook named Kyomon.

https://www.facebook.com/kyomon54?mibextid=2JQ9oc

Word Count: 2.17K

Upload date: 4th, February, 2024

MINORS PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD!!!!

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To get married was the duty of all nobles, especially all princes and princesses of Liyue. Prince Baizhu was no exception in this matter, his good looks, his intellectuality, his manners and etiquettes and his looks were always envied by the young men of the nobles and was the pride of the Emperor of Liyue. Born to His Majesty the Emperor and Her Majesty the Empress, the Crown Prince of Liyue was to be wedded with the Princess of the neighbouring kingdom. Though Prince Baizhu had no interest in this marriage whatsoever, however due to his duty and responsibility he had reluctantly agreed to meet with you. This however was both his worst yet best decision. A young lady in her early twenties, whose hanfu was a pretty pale pink colour with embroidered cherry blossom, oh how did you know that it was his favourite flower, of course it became his favourite flower after he saw you, your cheeks dusted pink, your hair done in a cute bun with braids and a hairpin with the same cherry blossom pattern. Your lips looked like fresh apple found in the cold mountains, oh how badly he wanted to kiss them, wanted to taste them, wanted them to utter only his name, only you can do so not even his father calls his first name.

"Greetings your Highness the Crown Prince, its a pleasure to meet you", you say in your voice and the way Baizhu wanted to hear that voice screaming and moaning in pleasure, the way you would sound so angelic under him in his chambers, making sure that no one dares to even see you in your eyes. "Ah yes, the pleasure is mine too, please do have a seat" he gestured you to sit down, you thanked him and sat down. "My, would I have known that my bride-to-be would such a beauty I would have already gotten married to you by now, but I guess this is also for the better, you need to have a grand marriage", he said while eying you like a predator would eye it's prey. "Please your Highness you must have seen more beauties than me, I am not beautiful to the extent you seem to praise me", oh, Baizhu was melting as you spoke, is that a blush he notices? My you truly were a innocent naïve princess, HIS princess. He so badly wanted to corrupt you, would you know how to pleasure him? How would you react when you see he has not one but two cocks that are as big as your face, oh how surprised would you be? Would you be scared or shocked? My this was his worst but best decision in his life.....

After months of engagement and procession and procedure for getting married, Baizhu couldn't wait to have you because today was the only night were he would sleep all alone, cause from tomorrow he would sleep with his one and only wife, he took an oath that he would never take in another concubine or mistress no matter the circumstances, that's why his mother carefully choose the bride for her beloved son, the one and only Crown Prince of Liyue. At last, it was the auspicious day, his wedding day, he couldn't get a minute of sleep because all he wanted to do was to see you in your bridal clothes in the bridal chamber patiently waiting for him. You have been getting ready since dawn, the courtesans giving you expensive facials and a luxurious bath, and they took more than 4 hours to do your make-up. Of course everything had to be perfect, after all you are becoming the one and only Crown Princess of Liyue. Finally they brought you out in the sedan chair and took you to the palace. The Empress personally visited you, giving you a hairpin, which was a the heirloom of her family, it symbolised fertility and good fortune. The moment had finally arrived, when he saw you in the red bridal wear, all he ever wanted to do was eat you right there. Oh, my he could see your cheeks were dusted pink, was it because of him? Was it because you are going to become his wife? Was it because you are going to carry his babies? Be a good girl to him? A good mother to his babies? Fuck just imagining you round with his babies? Begging him that it's too much? Or will you ask for more, once he has got you addicted to his taste, his scent, his voice, his cum? Oh, what would you do if you found out what he truly was??

The wedding and reception went without a hitch and the whole time he was starting at you, what would your face look like when finally he could remove the red veil covering your beautiful face. The whole country was celebrating for you both, but all his thoughts were about all about you. It was time for him to enter the bridal chamber, when we entered, he just froze in his place, the way you were shyly sitting on the seat, waiting for him, once you noticed his presence you hurried and stood up, bowing your head slightly. "Did I make you wait, my dear?" Baizhu asked in his calm and warm tone, "N-no your Hi-Highness the Crown Prince", "Hmm seems like I scare my wife tut-tut, now we can't have that darling", he slowly approached you and lifted your veil, and the way his breath hitched, the way he wanted to breed you, the way he wanted to reveal his true secrets to you, cause he knew that you are truly innocent. "My dear, we should drink the wine, for a happy married life", he pours two cups of wine, the both of you link your hand and drink the fruit wine.

"Blehh, I hate wine!!!", you tried to hide your disgust but you couldn't handle it. Baizhu laughed at you. "Looks like my dear wife cannot handle a little bit of liquor", you blushed at his words. "Now my wife, shall we get to the main part of the wedding, my favourite part of it", Baizhu slowed walked towards you and you by instinct walked back. He looked like a predator coveting it's prey, under the warm light cast by the lanterns and the candles added an extra layer of mysteriousness to him. He looked like a flower a beautiful one at that, but he seemed dangerous to approach, like you could get poisoned or worse get addicted to it, to HIM. Your mother, always knew someone of high status was going to marry you, but you hoped and prayed everyday for a husband who is handsome but more importantly willing to take only you in. "Y/n, eyes & thoughts on only me from now on", Baizhu whispered in your ears suddenly, you flinched and turned up to meet his eyes, which were sparkling like jewels and the slit in them reminded you of snakes. "Your Highn-", "Y/n can I kiss you? please I have been wanting to do so since I met you", you were shocked to hear that, you both will have to fulfil your duties as husband and wife so you slowly nodded yes. Within a second Baizhu was on your lips like a starved man, your lips were his oasis which cured this thirst he has been having ever since he saw you, his tongue slowly entered your mouth, but it felt weird, that's when your eyes shot up to stare at Baizhu, he was-wasn't a human but rather a, "I guess my dear dear wifey found out about me, hmm do you want to know what your dear husband his love?" You nodded scared to know the royal secrets, will you die after this? was this is the end of the life which had not even begun? "Y/n do not worry, you won't die after you know this, cause it's only you and I who will know it. I'm not human, I'm a half snake hybrid, scared of me love?" He knew actually you would be scared....

"Baizhu, will this hurt me? Will you being a snake hybrid pose a threat to my life?" you asked looking at him with curious cat like eyes. "Hahahaha, no my sweetheart, I just felt the need to let my wife know everything about me." It melted your heart that the strong and mighty Crown Prince cared so much about you. Suddenly he grabbed your hand and he placed it on his groin ,"Y/n touch me here, can you feel it? It's all for you, only you can turn me on in such ways" Your hand was on his hard cock but it felt weird like they were- Oh! shit did Baizhu perhaps have not 1 but, "How did you like my gift? Y/n I need you so badly right now please, allow me to touch you and make your body mine." "Baizhu...........", " My love please, I want to touch you, make you mine, I want to teach you how to pleasure me, I want to pleasure you." He kisses you hard and fast, he snatches the breath away from you, your tongues collide, and your teeth clashes against his, his scent is driving you crazy and you don't know where to place your hands, he slowly guides his hand to yours and moves them around his neck as if sensing your dilemma. He slowly pushes you on the lofty king sized bed with plush pillows, "My dinner is served", he removes you bridal robe slowly and groans as he sees your unclaimed skin, the innocence of it is making Baizhu crazy, he starts slowly kissing your stomach and brings it slowly to your breasts, he takes one in his mouth and sucks on it, silently imagining about how milk will flow out of it. Your moans are picking up in pitch, you have never anything like this, is overwhelming to say in the least, all you want is him, YOUR husband, you don't know why but you just want him to touch your core, the most intimate part of you, "Baizhu, touch me down there, it feels weird, I feel tingly all over." Baizhu simply laughs, "Love you are getting aroused, nothing to worry I am there to take care of you, just keep moaning like that yea?"

Baizhu slowly starts to finger you, making you widen your eyes, it hurts a bit at first but then you get used to, "Baizhu it hurts," "Don't worry, it will be okay now, just relax." He slowly adds one more finger, loosening you up, the way your cunt was gripping his fingers got him more excited just thinking about your cunt gripping this hard on his cocks makes him want to cum right then there. "Are you gonna cum for me my dear? i can feel, let it go for me, I promise to catch you" You have never felt anything like this, your orgasm was approaching at an alarming rate, "Gonna CUM! FUCK CUMMING! CUMMING!!!" Your orgasm watch soul shattering, you liquids flowing down your cunt and his fingers onto the bed..."My love I don't think I can wait anymore, please", he slowly removes his clothes and rubs his dick on your cunt, his precum is mixing with your arousal, he slowly slides one of his cock in you, moaning in pleasure he slowly kissed you, "Love are you read to have my kids? Since I am a snake hybrid my cum is like tiny eggs, we will have twins or even triplets are you ready for me?" With that he starts thrusting slowly, making sure both of you savour the moment. "Ahhhn!! Baizhu, slower plea-please, hu-hurts.." "Aw baby it's fine don't worry, everything will get okay with time ju-just enjoy it with me, sa-savour it!! Fuck!! you are ss-so ngh! ti-tight, shit!" "B-Ba-Baizhu, slower p-pl-please....." "FUCK so-sorry baby, can't do can't do, fucck gonna cum g-gonna cum" His thrusts turn sloppy and there is no rhythm in it, you are also reaching your peak. "Love, my sweetheart look at me", he cups your face thrusting hard and fast, "Look at me, when I say look at me, I'm gonna cum, cum with me, I said fucking cum-Oh!! it's cumming! Mhmmmmmmm" He paints your inside white, his cum is like jelly, with tiny clear balls, you also cum with him because of how hot his cum in your womb is, he still keeps thrusting. "You thought we were done? No, no you aren't leaving this bed until you are pregnant, Get pregnant, please please please. One more round just FUCK one more, yeah? you are ready?" "This time take both of my cocks? yeah?" He slowly inserts both his cocks, you could easily see the dick print in your tummy, it was bulging with cocks and cum, you were definitely going to get pregnant.

This was going to be a long night.

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Thank you guys for making it to the end of this long fanfic :)

I hope you all enjoyed it.

All likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

As always, until next time.

Luv ya guys <3

[inexplicifics]

Hi. I was rereading the fashion asks about using monster parts, and thinking about the conversations about Witcher armor Cahir had in Flung to Catch a Star, and the two between them got me thinking.

Cahir's mental commentary about the value of wyvern leather suggests that wearing monster-derived materials is already a thing of high status, but at the same time nobody has remarked on the Witchers' leather armor. Presumably this means that the finished product doesn't look much different from ordinary leather the way the Witchers work it. Meanwhile, any noble who was able to afford such a material would want everyone to know what they were wearing and display it accordingly.

So most such fashion would come in two main flavors, practical and aesthetic. One group valuing the material for its useful properties, and the other for the difficulty of acquiring it. (Until such time that the Witchers have the time to spare to start getting fancy about the things they make.)

That dual purpose makes me think that the White Wolf could make some very interesting statements with diplomatic gifts. Who gets something ostentatious and purely decorative? Who is given an object that is not only impressive but also more useful because of the properties of the material? Who goes home in an unremarkable leather vest that offers as much protection as metal armor…

In other words: Who is getting an expensive gift just because it would be a bad idea to upset them? Who is an actual ally they really do want to help or protect? And who do they want to support, without drawing attention to it with an obvious mark of favour from the Witchers court. If only their true allies know enough to tell what is useful as well as decorative it could form an interesting layer of subtext. (One that may have already been started with Milena's special hairpins.)

*chinhands*

Where's that "You, keep talking" gif?

I'm not sure I have anything useful to add here but damn is this some good worldbuilding fuel. Thank you.

[fettuccinealfred0]

Til Death Do Us Part | Part 7

Series Masterlist

Astarion x f!reader, Arranged Marriage AU

Word Count: 9k

(CW: brief descriptions of past trauma/sexual assault)

Summary:

And there, tucked deep in the back of the drawer, sits the object you had secretly been hoping to find- the unassuming little leatherbound book that you had spotted that day you had broken into Astarion’s office. You slide the book out from the drawer, the expensive leather binding soft and cool against your skin.

You shouldn’t open this, you think, as you carefully snap open the clasp on the book. 

You aren’t entirely sure what you were expecting to find- perhaps some sort of ledger which describes Astarion’s shady dealings in excruciating detail or perhaps a simply written ‘this is what I am looking for and why.’ 

Instead, you are met with pages upon pages of Astarion’s beautiful, looping handwriting, overcome by a sense of guilt and dread and shame. You should not be reading this.

But your eyes are darting over the words on the first page before you can stop yourself.

Read on ao3 here.

Astarion was right- you did tend to get yourself into trouble when you were bored. And with him gone, you were completely consumed by that nagging feeling that he has still been lying to you. 

You’ve been sitting at the chair in his study for the past half hour, just staring at that little locked drawer in the upper corner of his desk. You desperately want to open it but that little voice in the back of your head has been whispering that you shouldn’t- that it would be an invasion of Astarion’s privacy and would betray his trust. 

The longer you sit, the quieter that little voice gets, until all that is left is the burning desire for answers. 

You make a final deal with yourself- if you can pick the lock, you get to look at what’s inside. If you can’t, you leave this room and never snoop around in Astarion’s study again.

It’s a loaded deal. There are very few locks you’ve met in your life that you haven’t been able to pick with enough time and dedication. And sure enough, after you weasel your hairpin into the lock and wiggle it around a bit, you hear the telltale little click that allows you to carefully slide the drawer open. 

The first thing you see is the drawing of Astarion’s scar that you had once found on his desk. After pulling out the paper, you trace along the lines and squiggles that you have long since memorized. It’s a poor substitute for the feel of Astarion’s cool skin underneath your fingertips- you don’t get to watch his whole body relax as you run your hands along the scarred tissue, taking care to chase away any knots and tension that might be present in his back. 

Staring down at the sheet of paper, your chest aches with how badly you miss Astarion. 

Gods, you were going insane. It had only been a few days, you needed to pull yourself together and stop fantasizing. 

There’s a few other miscellaneous papers that you pull out next but they don’t tell you anything helpful. They mostly consist of brief notes and intel that only refer to whatever Astarion is searching for as ‘it.’

After moving all the papers to sit on the desk, your gaze catches a beautifully embroidered handkerchief that appears to be wrapped around something inside. Gently peeling away the edges of the silk, you reveal a little collection of rose petals. They’re dried and a bit shriveled and the vibrant red has faded to a rich burgundy but you would recognize those petals anywhere.

Had Astarion been saving these from the bouquets you had made for him?

After walking together in the gardens at night, you had been overcome by grief that Astarion wasn’t able to see them during the day. Without sunlight, he would never be able to fully appreciate the bright colors and the blooming flowers. In your mind, it had only seemed natural that if he could not go to the gardens during the day, you would bring the gardens to him. 

At that time, months ago, it felt like a foolish way to feel close to Astarion while you were pining after him. It was a selfish way to bring that lovely smile to his face and know that you were the cause of it. So as you made Astarion bouquets, you had poured your heart and your love into every stem and flower you picked. 

Admittedly, it had gotten a bit harder to bring him new flowers every week as fall continued to creep into winter and flowers became more and more scarce, but you made due with what you had. You were still determined to give him something pretty.

And Astarion always appreciated the bouquets. He always displayed them proudly in his study and always got a goofy little grin on his face when you brought him a new one. 

You had never dreamed that your gesture meant this much to him. Your heart dances inside your chest.

The dried petals are just another reminder of how deeply the well of love that exists inside of Astarion runs, showing his innate need to keep you near to him at all times. He could be so secretly sentimental, as if he was afraid of scaring you away with the full force of his love. 

And more than that, the petals are a reminder that this drawer was not for your eyes.

You feel a guilty pit in your stomach and chew on your lip- one of those bad habits that always managed to rear its head when you felt nervous or ashamed. You should just leave, should just close the door to Astarion’s study behind you and confess what you have done the moment he comes home…

But one more little peak wouldn’t hurt, right? 

You just want a better look at the embroidery on the handkerchief. Astarion must have been the one who embroidered it and you simply wish to appreciate his talents. Surely, if you praise him enough about his masterful handiwork, his ego will be so inflated that he will completely forget to be mad at you for prying into his secrets.

Satisfied with your logic, you turn back to the drawer. You’re sure to be extra careful when you touch the thin cotton handkerchief so you don’t accidentally damage the delicate petals held inside. 

Along one of the edges of the handkerchief, the beautiful white embroidery stands out against the sheer white cotton. There’s a collection of flowers whose stems are joined together by a lovely, sprawling ribbon in the corner. The flowers extend outward along the edges of the handkerchief and into the middle- it looks like there’s roses, some chrysanthemums, some little flower that looks like a daisy or an aster, and little clumps of tiny flowers. Oh…. Are those heliotropes? 

Astarion had recreated the first bouquet you made him. The surge of emotion inside you nearly has you weeping. 

When had Astarion even made this? 

Perhaps it had been done in a moment of madness months ago, when he too had been overwhelmed by the depth of his longing for you. Perhaps he had sat down and let his emotions spill out through his fingers, interweaving them in the handkerchief alongside the thread. 

Or maybe he had somehow managed to sneak away and work on this recently? But since you had confessed your love, the two of you had been so engrossed in one another that you hardly spent any time apart. And even before then, you had spent the majority of your days with Astarion- reading together in the library and offering him your blood and sleeping in his bed. 

The only real time the two of you had been separated, apart from the past few days, was during the time after your fight, when Astarion had attempted to push you away. You picture Astarion, despondent, with messy hair and deep circles under his eyes, pricking his fingers as he continues to sew, as if in a daze. You don’t like that image. 

So instead, you picture Astarion working on the handkerchief while you were sleeping beside him. He was probably leaning back against the headboard while he sewed, the blankets sliding low around his waist and his pale skin shimmering in the moonlight, sneaking glances over at you while you slept. You like that idea much better. 

Now that you have seen and fully appreciated the craftsmanship of the handkerchief, you should be closing the desk drawer and locking it tight. 

You don’t.

Spurred on by curiosity, you continue rifling through the drawer. 

And there, tucked deep in the back, sits the object you had secretly been hoping to find- the unassuming little leatherbound book that you had spotted that day you had broken into Astarion’s office. You slide the book out from the drawer, the expensive leather binding soft and cool against your skin.

You shouldn’t open this, you think, as you carefully snap open the clasp on the book. 

You aren’t entirely sure what you were expecting to find- perhaps some sort of ledger which describes Astarion’s shady dealings in excruciating detail or perhaps a simply written ‘this is what I am looking for and why.’ 

Instead, you are met with pages upon pages of Astarion’s beautiful, looping handwriting, overcome by a sense of guilt and dread and shame. You should not be reading this.

But your eyes are darting over the words on the first page before you can stop yourself. 

I am unable to close my eyes in fear that Cazador might appear to me again. I hate that he still holds this power over me, even now. 

He had control over my mind and my body and now he even owns my memories. I never know when one might return to me and leave me shaking and paralyzed by its stunning realness. There’s just so many to choose from- centuries of nothing but agony and pain and torture.

It happened again today. 

I don’t know what caused it but suddenly, I was back in that place.

Gale found me huddled in the corner of the library. He said that I nearly ripped his head off when he tried to soothe me. 

I don’t remember that happening... 

All I know is that the idea of someone putting their hands on me makes me sick to my stomach. 

Gale told me I need to start writing about the memories, that I need to get them out of my head and onto paper. He’s seen this same thing, he said, in soldiers and generals whose minds never return from the battlefield. 

I can’t possibly imagine how war is worse than what I went through.

So these are Astarion’s innermost thoughts. You should respect that, should leave these words to belong solely to him. But there’s a dangerous thought wriggling in the back of your mind. 

Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted- a glimpse inside his mind? To finally know the truth without doubting every word that comes out of his pretty mouth?

And it’s that nagging, curious part of you which seizes control and forces you to continue reading the first entry. 

At this point, I’m desperate enough to listen to Gale, of all people. So, here goes:

I can’t even see my scar, but I constantly feel its weight upon my back.  Yesterday, when I finally returned back to my body, I felt my fingers tracing along the marks that I can reach over my shoulder in a trance, as if that foolish action would help me free myself from the prison of my mind.

Cazador carved the scar into me over the course of a night and I constantly find myself stuck in that memory. 

That night was agony. Every cut he made was careful. Deliberate. If I screamed too much or if I moved too much, he would start over immediately. He would wait, watching my skin stitch itself back together before he set to work again. He butchered me, over and over and over again.

For practice, he had said. He had wanted his ‘poem’ to be perfect.

And after an endless night of the worst pain I had ever felt, Cazador finally brought out the precious silver blade that he called his ‘needle’ and he etched this scar into my skin forever. 

You would think that at a certain threshold, your brain would tell your body to stop feeling pain or that the pain couldn’t possibly get worse. I never seemed able to find that limit. The pain always got worse.

There’s a final note written at the end of the page. The handwriting is small and almost shy.

Warm baths help.

Oh, Astarion. 

From the little pieces of information he had revealed to you, you knew that his past was filled with pain and torment, but you had no idea it was this horrific. 

The idea of being cut even once has an unpleasant shiver running down your spine. Astarion’s scar spans nearly the entirety of his back. How many cuts was that across his skin? How many hundred and thousands of times did this man, this Cazador, mutilate him?

And that was just over the course of one night. 

You can’t even begin to fathom the cruelty Astarion had suffered, the pain he had withstood. You feel your mouth hanging open a bit in shock and horror. 

How terrifying it must be to live in a state of perpetual fear, to never know when your mind might betray you and transport you back to your most miserable experiences. 

And beneath all that, Astarion was still trying- he was still fighting to learn how to live again after his trauma. He was still writing himself little hopeful notes like ‘warm baths help,’ that would help his future self know how to find his way back from those memories a little easier the next time. 

It’s so easy to imagine Astarion, knees pulled up to his chest as he stares at nothing in the distance. It makes tears prick at your eyes. It makes you want to hold his head against your chest so he can time his breathing with the beat of your heart as you run your fingers through his lovely white hair and reassure him that he is safe now.

And you are faced with another, far more worrying, question. How often do episodes like these happen? The entry is dated a couple years ago but you are certain they have happened during the time you have been married. It is the only explanation for Astarion’s horrible thrashing and screaming when he was injured and in a state of blood madness. 

The animalistic wails that tore themselves from his throat will be imprinted in your own memory forever.

And some nights, Astarion would jolt himself awake in such a state that it woke you up next to him, as well. He would practically scramble out of the bed, eyes wide and glinting a blood-curdling red in the darkness of the bedroom. And for just a moment, when he looked at you in a panic, you could swear he didn’t recognize you. 

You are struck immediately by the thought that you need to do something. There’s an intrinsic desire to take this pain away from Astarion. 

Isn’t that what marriage is supposed to be? A way to lessen your burdens by sharing them with the person you trust most.

But Astarion didn’t trust you. And a part of you is deeply hurt by the fact that he does not believe that you are capable of helping to carry the weight of his past. Did he view you as too weak, too naive?

Astarion should know that you had your own past- you know better than most the damage that an angry, manipulative man could do. It had not been an easy life being raised by your father. 

And worse than the fact that you now have proof that Astarion doesn’t trust you, he had lied to you. You had asked him explicitly whether silver hurt him and he had deliberately deflected your question with some silly answer about how he preferred gold. A lie by omission is a lie, nonetheless. Silver does hurt him. Silver is what created his scars. 

You aren’t sure if you keep reading out of spite or a desperate need to learn how to help Astarion.

The next entry is dated about a week later. 

This house is a graveyard and I am doomed to be its crypt keeper. 

Well… That’s bleak. And rather melodramatic. It’s so completely Astarion that it almost pulls you out of reading for a moment.

There are ghosts around every corner. At times, I could swear that I smell my mother’s perfume or hear my father’s booming laughter echoing in the halls. 

Still, this house feels as barren and loveless as Cazador’s palace.

I was just a boy the last time I was here. An eager young thing, ready to set off and explore Baldur's Gate.

I always knew I would return here, but I never imagined it would be under these circumstances. I had dreams of becoming a magistrate, of making a name for myself, of finding love. And then, some day in the distant future, I would return home and my parents would welcome me with open arms. I would take over as patriarch of the family and allow my father to spend the rest of his days in peace. 

But now, this place is too big. Too dark. Too cold. 

Gone are the days of sunlight streaming through the windows. The gardens that my mother cherished so dearly have decayed into nothingness. A thick, suffocating layer of dust has settled over the entire manor. 

Now this house is yet another miserable reminder of how much I have lost. It feels as if I am seeing someone who has died whenever I find traces of my old self. Even then, the memories I do have of my childhood are so mangled and fragmented that my past can only whisper to me and remind me that I am a stranger in my own home. 

What has happened to me? 

What have I become?

Cazador is always there in the back of my mind. Waiting and watching. There is no escape, no freedom- not really. Not when Cazador’s presence still follows me like a shadow.

I fear coming back here was the biggest mistake I could have made. I should have just stayed in Baldur’s Gate. 

The aching and the sorrow in Astarion’s words has your stomach churning uncomfortably. It seems silly, but you can’t help but imagine the Astarion before- the young man who was so excited to go to the city and begin his life. He wanted love, even then. It fills you with a deep melancholy. 

No part of you should be grateful that Astarion became a vampire- you should not celebrate that he suffered and was brutalized by that monster, Cazador. 

And yet… if he had not been turned, you can’t help but wonder if your paths would have ever crossed at all.

It rattles you to your very core. Astarion had become a certainty in your life- there is no future that you could ever imagine that does not invovle him.

The more you read, the more you learn about the tortures that Cazador had inflicted on Astarion. You discover the punishments he suffered if he didn’t obey, like the time he attempted to escape and was buried in a casket underground for a full year. The way he writes about that time has you feeling claustrophobic, you’re practically clawing at your own throat, desperate for fresh air. 

And you find out he had very little opportunity not to obey. For centuries, Astarion had no choice, no freedom, nowhere to run but his mind.

It’s horrific. 

The life of a spawn has no real happiness. It doesn’t sound like much of a life, at all.

And through everything you read, you can tell Astarion is clearly struggling to deal with the aftermath of his trauma far more than he lets on. You follow his journey as he tries to find what events cause him to slip back into his memories and what rituals help pull him out of them. 

An entry a couple months later makes you pause. 

My body is my own. I choose what I do with it. I choose who touches me. 

So why do some days feel as if I’m still in the haze of Cazador’s control? When I am trapped in a memory, why does my body still react involuntarily? Why do I feel as if I still have no power over myself?

I feel like a stranger in my own skin. I hardly even remember what I look like and the skin I’ve been left with is scarred and ruined. I can’t even look at my own hands without remembering what I have done with them. 

I wish I could shed this body and start anew.

I’d still have to be beautiful, of course, because how else does anyone ever get anything done without batting their eyelashes and having others fall at their feet? Seems tedious.

Of course, even in his mind, even with just himself, Astarion has to deflect with petty vanity and a touch of humor. 

You had not fully appreciated the horror of being unable to see your own reflection. No wonder Astarion didn’t like his portrait- he probably didn’t even recognize himself when he first saw it. It must still feel like a disembodied image, rather than a true likeness.

The next entry that catches your attention is a few pages later. 

My bed is too soft.

Vampires don’t even need to sleep, so it’s ridiculous why that would even matter to me. 

It was a nightmare today. I woke to phantom hands surrounding me, suffocating me.

Cazador demanded blood and us spawn were meant to bring him victims. By any means necessary. Cazador had said it should be easy for me, I already had such a pretty face. All I had to was make it seem real, make them believe it.

So I did.

I hunted for new victims in the dark of night. Taverns and brothels and gambling dens. I was never allowed to say no. Anything they wanted, they got. 

I fear I have been treated as an object for so long, I have forgotten how it feels to be a person. 

It feels as if your veins have been filled with ice. There had been hints or suggestions in other entries, but it was so much worse than you could possibly assume. There is only one thing which Astarion’s words could imply- he had been forced to use himself, to use his body and his sexuality as a means of luring people back for Cazador. 

You hate how easily it explains so many of Astarion’s behaviors. No wonder he always fell back into that practiced, seductive tone when he felt he was losing control over a situation. It was what was comfortable, it was what he knew how to do, even if he was truly in agony.

How many times had he put on this performance for you? How many times had he placated you when he did not want to, simply because you were too insistent and he feared what would happen if he said no?

You had been the one to move his hand under your chemise that night. You had made assumptions based on his flirtatious nature and the hungry reverence with which he drank your blood. And now, you’re mortified that you might have put him in a situation where he felt he couldn’t refuse you in fear you might take away his easy access to your blood. 

It feels horrible to know you might be the last in a long line of people who had taken advantage of Astarion. Your skin feels like it’s crawling.

You hadn’t known, you hadn’t known, you hadn’t known, you repeat to yourself but it does little to quell the bubble that’s building inside your chest.

You can’t breathe. Your mind races.

You think back to Astarion’s promise. It all makes sense- he was always so worried about you being able to say no. You had done the same, of course, always checking in with him and listening to him during sex. But you should have been more proactive. You should have given him more opportunity to decline your advances. 

Astarion never writes too explicitly about those kinds of memories and you think it’s mostly as a means to protect himself from falling fully back into them. But past that point in the diary, there are enough entries on the subject to give you a rather… grisly picture of exactly what Astarion suffered through.

You read them all and weep with sympathy. You wish you could kill Cazador yourself.

And for a moment, you almost consider stopping and putting the diary away, but you catch an entry about how Astarion was turned and your interest is piqued. 

Cazador always liked pretty things. I think that’s why he always liked torturing me the best. 

I always wondered if that’s why he decided to turn me. Sometimes, I ask myself if that day was all orchestrated or if fate was simply laughing at me. 

That night. The Gur. A useless, spiteful people.

Did those Gur that attacked me really take issue with my ruling that day or did Cazador simply pay them to ambush me in that alley? Did he tell them to beat me and taunt me or did they choose to do that on their own?

And when I was spitting up blood and could hardly move, they just… left me. And my stupid heart just kept beating and I wouldn’t die. 

It felt like a miracle when Cazador found me, claiming that he could smell my blood. At the time, it felt as if he was my last hope. 

It’s even worse that he made me beg for it. A torture to look back upon and know that I begged for the miserable life he granted me. 

It was painful at first. My body warped and writhed with pain as death overtook me. For just a moment, it black and blissful and then I had to scrape and claw my way out of the earth. I was choking- drowning in an endless ocean of dirt. 

And when I resurfaced, vomiting bile and dirt and congealed blood, Cazador was laughing. I could already feel the invisible string tying me to him. The eternal contract that he had neglected to mention.

Astarion had written the next part so hard that there were tears in the paper on some of his downstrokes.

Fuck him. Fuck him for turning me into this. Fuck everyone in the world for never caring enough to help me. 

Fuck the gods, for I prayed to every one that existed and they all abandoned me.

How heartbreaking, you think- to believe yourself completely alone in the world. You can only hope that Astarion knows how adored he is now. There is you, of course, but you also see his friendships- with Gale, with Shadowheart, with Lae’zel, and Karlach, and Wyll. Any one of you would do anything in your power to keep Astarion safe and happy.

You had not expected that the story Astarion’s turning would be quite so excruciating. All the times you had talked about vampirism, Astarion had never mentioned how gruesome of a process it truly was. 

It’s as if everything about his past is infinitely more unspeakable than you could have ever imagined. 

There’s a pause of about two weeks before the next entry. 

We found the second gem today. Luckily, that idiot Envar Gortash had been so terribly loud about showing off his new collectible. His house was far too easy to break into and he was annoying, so I don’t think anyone really minded when he turned up dead. The elite of Baldur’s Gate viewed him as a lowly wannabe who unsuccessfully attempted to infiltrate their ranks and the rabble viewed him as a class traitor. In the end, no one wanted to claim him.

But I hate that I must spend my precious time looking for these gems. Am I truly free if I’m just working as Raphael’s errand boy?

So that’s what Astarion is looking for? Gems for somebody else? It seems so completely out of character.

And now, with this entry, you have found the answers you were searching for. You should be shutting this diary. But why this Raphael character was forcing Astarion to look for these gems had unraveled a new mystery you need to solve. And that can only be done by continuing to read.

Raphael was lucky to find me at a time where I would have agreed to do just about anything to rid myself of Cazador. When he approached me, who was I to say no? It’s not as if my life could have gotten any worse.

And that one night, someone had approached me in dark brothel and lead me back to a room. It was easy, it was routine- I knew what they wanted.

Only, in the room, Raphael was there, asking me if I’d like to kill Cazador. He reassured me that the walls weren’t listening and told me that I could answer honestly. I didn’t believe him at first. Obviously. It felt just like the kind of convoluted trap that Cazador would set so he could have a reason to punish me. Or, even more likely, I’d still be tortured for not falling for it.

But Raphael gave me something that night- a little pouch of strange herbs that he slipped into my hand as I was leaving the room. ‘A sign of good faith’ he had whispered to me before I was passed along to the next customer, still searching for a victim to bring back to Cazador.

And later, when Cazador had asked what had taken me so long that night, for the first time in 200 years, I didn’t feel compelled to give him an answer. For the first time, I was able to lie to him. 

And oh, how terribly I had missed lying. 

I bided my time, then, waiting patiently for Raphael to bump into me again. Within a fortnight, he was sliding up beside me in a tavern, leading me away into some dark corner to talk. 

He explained to me that he was a devil- the son of the demon Mephistopheles and born to a human woman. It was easy to believe that explanation. Vampires are real, after all, so why not devils?

Raphael had it on good authority that Cazador was preparing some sort of ritual using an artefact that Raphael wanted All he needed was someone with inside knowledge of the Szarr palace and detailed information about Cazador’s whereabouts.

In return, Cazador would be dead.

I expected he’d want something more from me, of course. Help is not offered freely- that is not how this world works. You are only good to people so long as you serve some purpose to them. 

The question was why Raphael needed me. Why was he willing to go through the effort of killing a vampire lord just for my help? And why now? Why after 200 years of torture and misery was someone finally answering my desperate pleas. 

He had purred my name so beautifully- Astarion Ancunín- with a wonderful emphasis on my last name.

My title, my birthright allows me to move in ways which are not available to him.

I gave him my conditions then:

I get to one the one to kill Cazador (and oh, how I intended to draw that out)

I get to drink Cazador’s blood before he dies and become a true vampire. No longer would I be cursed to live as a lowly, disgusting spawn. I would finally rise to the power that was owed to me after all my suffering.

Raphael had set his own conditions, too. And it really doesn’t seem like that bad of an idea to promise your soul to a devil when you’re an immortal vampire who is practically impossible to kill. His second condition was more of an inconvenience than anything- I wasn’t allowed to make any spawn. 

In hindsight, I probably should have anticipated a bit more trickery from a devil, but I was so overcome by the idea of killing Cazador. And it really had been a long time since I studied law…

Honestly, I always just assumed the details would figure themselves out. Turns out, they don’t. Devastating. 

And in the end, it had all been a misunderstanding. The ritual Cazador was preparing to perform had nothing to do with the Crown of Karsus that Raphael so desperately desired. When I had arrived with Raphael, Cazador had nearly laughed us out of the palace. The ‘crown’ that Raphael believed that Cazador possessed was nothing more than a single, useless green gem.

Raphael was enraged, but I was still the one who killed Cazador. Devils are bound to their contracts just as much as the person signing. And so I feasted on the way the dagger plunged into Cazador’s chest. I channeled all of my pain, all of my suffering into every thrust of my blade. There would be no doubt that he was dead- I would make sure of that.

And afterward, newly infused with the blood of my former vampiric master, I expected that I would be able to walk free as a true vampire. But my contract was iron-clad. I had signed that I would help Raphael find the Crown of Karsus, not the single gem that Cazador owned. 

I would not be freed until I had helped Raphael retrieve all three gems.

And it wasn’t until after Cazador was already dead, when I was left to search for information on the remaining gems by myself, that I came across all the spawn caged in the bowels of the palace.

There were hundreds of them. Thousands.

When I told Raphael, he didn’t even have the decency to act shocked. He had known Cazador was amassing power, preparing to perform some sort of ritual. Raphael had originally assumed it was related to the Crown of Karsus- which would allow the owner of the Crown to unify and rule over the hells. But after we found that Cazador only had the one gem, Raphael knew instantly what ritual Cazador had actually wanted to perform.

Cazador has aspired to become the Vampire Ascendant.

All those victims that the other spawn and I had lured back to Cazador were turned into spawn, themselves. They, too, had been marked with scars like the one upon my back.

Cazador was preparing to sacrifice 7,007 vampire spawn to Mephistopheles in exchange for unprecedented power. And he had been growing dangerously close to the required number of souls.

And I was denied the opportunity to seize this ritual for myself because Raphael was a step ahead of me the whole time. Even after Cazador was dead, I couldn’t go about completing it on my own because that damned contract prevented me from creating the remaining spawn needed.

If only I had known before…

I could have walked in the sun. I could have tasted food and enjoyed wine again. I could have finally been safe. No one could have ever hurt me again. 

And now, I am still stuck in an eternal contract. I am still not truly free. Even after I find this final gem for Raphael, he will still own my soul in death.

I resent ever giving Raphael power over me. He doesn’t deserve it. 

It feels surreal. All the answers you have been desperately searching for were laid out before you in Astarion’s lovely cursive. 

You’re stunned. Astarion believed he had a way to free himself and he got stuck in another bad contract almost immediately. It seemed to be a horrible, vicious cycle. You could completely understand the depth of Astarion’s lust for power. There is a false sense of safety when people are more scared of you than you are of them.

You continue reading through the next several months’ worth of entries. They are all short, scattered fragments of even more horrible memories that make your heart ache.

You slow down again when you recognize a date. The day of your wedding. Astarion had written about you.

I am to be married tonight.

My fiancée is less than pleased, to say the least. 

There’s so much I wish to tell her that I will not ever admit aloud. She doesn’t need to know that her father was selling her off like cattle. She doesn’t need to know the disgusting, horrific things that decrepit old man was saying about her or planning to do to her when they were married. 

It triggered something in me to hear them talking- it was so similar to the way people used to talk about me.

I don’t know why my brain proposed marriage as a solution. Perhaps I abhor beautiful things going unappreciated. Or perhaps I saw a part of myself in her. Perhaps I saved her the way I always hoped someone would save me. And at the time, marriage seemed the easiest way to do that- it would placate her father, who seemed desperate to sell her off, it would allow her to escape a fate married to a goblin of a man who would treat her horribly, and it would give me something wonderful of my own to look forward to.

I had a whole plan for wooing her that night and she ruined it and for that, I should have killed her. I have certainly killed people for far less. The logical answer is that I am growing weak and sentimental and that is unacceptable. 

I do not cry for the plights of the sorrowful. Nobody cried for me.

There’s more in there about you. Pages and pages immortalizing all the little interactions the two of you had shared, things you had said or done that made Astarion smile, his feelings about you along the way. It all feels tainted now. You have betrayed him, continually. You have read his diary. You had essentially forced yourself on him. You had not done more to show him how loved he truly is if he still believes himself so alone in the world. 

You can hardly bring yourself to read through the entries during the time after the fight where he had pushed you away. There are jagged tears where pages had been ripped out in a rage. It pains you to think of the vile, self-loathing thoughts that Astarion had written. You can only hope those words burned away in a fire, never to plague his mind again. 

And even more recently, his entries are full of love and silly, flowery language about how pretty your hair looks in the moonlight or how it’s as if the gods made you just to ruin him. It almost seems like he’s writing out lines that he wishes to practice before he says to you. 

And more than that, he writes about the burgeoning intimacy between the two of you. 

The crushing guilt you had been feeling lessens a bit when, through Astarion’s own words, you are reminded that he was the one reaching out to you for physical comfort more often than not. He was the one who always wanted to hold your hand or wrap you in his arm or gently graze his fingers along your cheek. In his own words, it was a grounding force- a way to remind himself that you were here, and you were real. 

I was wrong. Sex is wonderful. Apparently, it just depends on the person.

I’m not sure what makes it so different with her.

Love, you think to yourself. Trust. That’s the difference. Trust which you have broken.

All I know is that I’ve never craved another’s touch the way I crave hers. My mind has never felt clearer. 

I can never let her see me for who I used to be- a pathetic, weak spawn.

But not with her, never that with her. She sees me as I am now. And it’s so wonderful to pretend for a while that my past doesn’t exist. I spent so long trying to escape my life that it feels entirely novel to exist solely in the present and to long for a future again. 

And I had forgotten how I missed being touched. So many years without a hug or a gentle caress and now, I feel as though I need to make up for lost time.

If I can drown in her touch, perhaps I’ll be able to emerge a new man, unbound by my past. 

“What in the world are you doing in here?” Astarion’s voice calls out, pulling your attention from the book.

Fuck.

This was going to be even worse than you anticipated because now, it is not you who is approaching Astarion with the truth of your wrongdoing. Instead, he has caught you in the act.

He saunters into the room, a bright smile on his face. “You sent me on a wild goose chase around the manor looking for you. And here I was, hoping to find you naked in our bed upon my return, little flower.” 

“I’m sorry,” you say, because you can’t perceive anything else other than your overwhelming shame at having read his diary. You look up at Astarion from your place in his chair, your neck protesting the motion, sore from your hours of staring down at the leatherbound book. You can already feel the guilty tears sticking to your lashes and blurring your vision.

Astarion sees your distress almost immediately and his eyes are darting around the room to find the cause, his hand snaking down to one of the daggers on his belt. His voice is sharp and urgent when he asks, “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Oh. He had been so eager to see you, he hadn’t even bothered to change out his armor. And there’s not a speck of blood on him. You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. 

He was home, he was safe. 

“No, Astarion, I-” the words escape you. How could you even begin to explain what you had done to him? How you had violated him? It’s all too much and not enough. 

You watch Astarion’s gaze fall to your lap. The pieces click into place in his brain as he sees the open drawer and the book in your hands and his eyes harden, all blood red and dangerous. He looks like a predator, ready to pounce and kill. 

He crosses the room to you in quick strides, ripping the journal from your hands. 

“I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have,” you rush to explain, desperate for him to hear you through his fog of anger. You need to spin this, you think, make it seem like this is a good thing. “But don’t you see? I finally understand, now.”

“NO!” Astarion yells. His voice is booming and he’s practically vibrating with rage. He’s never been this angry before. Not at you.

“You had no right. That was-” Astarion’s voice cracks, his breath coming out in angry pants. “That was mine. That was the one thing I had. The one thing I could keep just for myself, and you took that one bit of comfort away from me. What, because you’re nosy? Because I didn’t tell you every painful detail of my miserable existence? Newsflash, darling, but we’ve only known each other a couple months. You hardly know me!” 

The way he hisses the word darling at you makes it sound like an insult.

“I do, Astarion, I know you,” you’re crying and trying to reach out to him, but he keeps moving further and further away from you, like a wounded animal. 

“Obviously not or you would have known how important it was not to read this!” He shouts back, throwing the journal into the drawer and slamming it shut. You hate to think about those lovely rose petals inside, which were surely damaged and cracked in the commotion. 

“If you would have just told me what-” you start, trying to justify your actions to him in the hopes that if he sees reason, he will forgive you.

“How did that excuse violating my trust?” Astarion cuts you off. 

He’s right, but you can’t help growing frustrated that he’s not listening to you, not trying to hear your side. 

“You never tell me anything, Astarion!” You shout back at him, finally standing up so he isn’t towering over you quite so menacingly. You square your shoulders and challenge him, “You promised me honesty and yet you still brush me away with vague, insincere answers. You are still lying to me by omission.”

“I was trying,” He implores. “I would have told you everything, in time.”

But based on his last entry in the journal you read, you know this is absolutely not true. He would have kept you in the dark forever because some misguided part of him believes that he is protecting you in some way.

“No, you would not have!” you argue back.

“We’ll never know! You took that choice away from me.”

Damn him. For all your talk of being angry at Astarion for making your choices for you, you had just done the same to him. You are angry at yourself and the only way you know how to deal with that is by continuing to lash out at Astarion. 

“I have known you at your worst, Astarion, and I love you, still. And now, you have seen me at my worst, too.”

Astarion chuckles darkly. “Darling, you couldn’t even dream of me at my worst.”

The two of you stare at one another, chests heaving, neither one of you willing to back down. Astarion is radiating anger, and you are swimming in a deep pool of regret and despair. 

“I have loved you and you have repaid that love with betrayal.” Astarion finally snarls, fangs glinting in a purposeful reminder that he is a beast of prey, first and foremost. You know he’s deflecting and trying to hide behind a shield of power because he feels vulnerable.

But your heart catches on that one word. 

“Loved?” You ask.

Past tense. 

It threatens to shatter your already aching heart, to scatter the pieces so far and wide that you have no hope of ever piecing it back together. 

“How could I love you now?” Astarion shakes his head, his lovely white curls dancing in the candlelight. The disgust and betrayal twist his pretty face into something hideous. “How could you love me now that you know what I am?”

What scares you most is that you do not know if he hates you or himself more.

You don’t know how to reassure him that his diary has not changed anything- that all it has done is given you a more complete picture of the man you love. But you are hurt, and you are angry and that is a dangerous combination that leads you to speak without thinking. 

“And you’re unwilling to find it in your heart to ever forgive me?” you ask. “I know I have hurt you and I am sorry. But how many times have I forgiven you, Astarion? You threatened to kill me, you kept me locked in my room for days, you forced me to marry you, you lied to me constantly, you called me horrible names and pushed me away right after I had been vulnerable with you. I forgave you for everything! I loved you in spite of everything you did to me! I’d love you matter what!”

“I never asked you to do that!” Astarion’s brow furrows in frustration. “You can’t demand that I forgive you simply because you’ve chosen to forgive me.”

You hate him because he’s right.

You’re speaking before you can stop yourself. “Gods, you’re such a hypocrite. You act like you’re better than everyone, like you know what’s best for everyone, but you hate yourself. I won’t let you do this again. I won’t let you push me away as some form of self-punishment.”

“That’s not what this is,” Astarion says, and his voice is deep and cold. “This is me being rightfully angry that you have violated my trust.”

“I know,” you say, bringing your hands up to brush away the tears that have started rolling down your cheeks. “I am truly sorry. But how much did you really trust me anyway, Astarion? You were hiding so much from me.”

“I was trying to keep you safe!” He shouts back defensively. He takes a deep breath, bringing his hand up to pinch his nose and attempting to calm himself down. “I think it’s best that you leave, at least for a little while. I think we need some time apart so we can both cool off and we don’t just keep arguing in a circle. I have a country home in the South. You’ll like it. I’ll have Shadowheart pack your things, the two of you will leave in the afternoon.”

Astarion nods, his decision made. He doesn’t even wait for you to say anything before he’s turning on his heel to leave. 

“No, that’s not what I want,” you say, catching his arm so he must turn and look into your imploring eyes, “We need to work this out, Astarion. You don’t get to keep making my decisions for me!” 

Because he was the one who decided you would be married. He was the one who pushed you away and decided your relationship was over the first time. And now, apparently, he was deciding again.

“There’s nothing to talk about. I am your husband, and you will do what I say!”

And in that moment, all your fears about marriage have been realized. You had grown so comfortable with Astarion that you had become complacent. You had forgotten the control he could wield over you as your husband. You had foolishly trusted that he understood your innate desire to make your choices yourself. 

And even after all this, after you had just read about the years he yearned for freedom and the ability to choose as he suffered under Cazador, he still had the audacity to give you orders. He still chose to use his legal authority over you as a punishment.

“Very well, husband,” you spit the word out at him and his body flinches at the jab. “I see I am forced to obey you.”

You take off your wedding ring and slam it onto a table before you leave the room. 

—----------

As you sit in the carriage, stewing in your anger, you realize that up until now, Astarion had conveniently neglected to mention the cottage he apparently owned.

On your wedding night, when you had gone to confront him because he had not yet come to consummate your marriage, he had assured you that you were free to carry on with your life however you would like. You had told him that you had nowhere else to go. The cottage was not even mentioned. He had trapped you in his manor.

And yes, you know that he wanted you to stay with him because he was lonely, and he was drawn to you. But by not mentioning the cottage, he had not given you the opportunity to choose to stay with him. It was yet another example of how he kept making your decisions for you. 

You and Shadowheart were loaded into the carriage that afternoon, just as Astarion had ordered. The past few days had been sunny, and the lovely snow was starting to melt away. You stare out the window as the carriage bumbles and rolls along the road. It’s funny to think that the last time you had been in a carriage was with your father on the way to Astarion’s ball.

So much has changed since then. There’s so much you wish you could tell your past self.

“Will you stop sighing? It’s getting annoying,” Shadowheart interrupts your thoughts. 

“Well, I’m sorry my melancholy has brought down your mood. You do seem to get such joy from being complacent in my imprisonment,” you hiss back at her, not even bothering to tear your gaze away from the window.

“Imprisonment?” Shadowheart snorts out a laugh. “Don’t be so dramatic. We’re going to spend a fortnight in a lovely house by the sea. You’ll get some fresh air and some warm weather and some time to clear your head.”

Damn her and her good points. 

“He had no right to order me around,” you say instead.

Shadowheart hums in acknowledgement. “Agreed. And I told him such. But he does have a right to be angry with you. And you seem to be forgetting that and rushing right to the ‘he needs to forgive me’ part.”

“That may be true. But he shouldn’t have sent me away against my wishes!” You say, turning to look at her with narrowed eyes. Whose side was she on here?

“Look,” Shadowheart says, her eyes softening a bit. “Astarion is just giving himself space to sort through his thoughts. He does it all the time. He’s a loner at heart. He’s not used to being around someone all the time.”

“But I don’t want him to be alone!” you exclaim. “I want to make him feel better, even if I am the one who caused him pain.”

“That’s quite the dilemma,” Shadowheart agrees. She looks like she’s about to say something more when-

Bang.

There’s a bump in the road. A nasty one, that causes your head to smash painfully against the window you had just been looking out of.

“What was that?” you ask, rubbing at the sore spot on your forehead, but Shadowheart is drawing a knife, gesturing for you to keep silent.

There’s a horrible, uncomfortable silence that makes you scared to even breathe. You can hear muffled voices and the sound of weapons clanging against each other outside the carriage door. For a moment, there’s nothing but silence. You almost have hope that you will make it out of this unscathed. 

And then, the carriage door is wrenched open. A man roughly grabs your arm, pulling you out. You kick and claw and bite with everything you have, but it’s not enough.

----------------

Notes:

Oh no! Another cliffhanger! Sorry (not).

Ugh, this chapter was a SLOG to write. I tend to structure my outlines around dialogue and as you have all read, this chapter has very little dialogue. But since the beginning, this arc has always been where I've wanted to take this story. Hopefully none of this plot is coming too far out of left field, I really tried to drop breadcrumbs along the way. I know diaries can be a bit of an easy way out when it comes to solving a mystery in a story, but I genuinely don't see Astarion offering up any of this information willingly and I just love the idea that he has a healthy outlet for sorting through all his trauma. And I also wanted it to come across that tav/the reader isn't perfect, either. She's just as capable of making mistakes as Astarion and they're both challenging each other to do better.

Hugest thank you to my beta-writer AliensNSuch on ao3 for listening to my insanity and helping me to think through potential plot holes (hopefully we got most of them)!

And thank you to everyone for reading and sharing your comments and love! I cannot even begin to explain how much I appreciate you all- I genuinely get so excited to post every week and see your reactions.

Taglist: @ayselluna @idkbrodontaskme @maruichio @fanfic-share @the-littlest-bruja @asterordinary @divineknightmare

Feel free to let me know if you would liked to be added/removed from the taglist for future chapters!

[mikaela-the-slut-expert]

I really hope I'm not bothering you with my asks, BUT what if, miss facade reader fell for Mu Qing, & after they complete a mission together, maybe she asks him out with an entire bouquet & such?

I so want to pamper him give him the princess treatment.

Confessions

Mu Qing x F!Reader

I don't mind your requests at all I promise 🥰🖤 I feel great knowing that people like my writing enough to come back for more of it so I'm happy!

Part one: Miss Facade

Go read it rn🫵😚

____________________________________

Mu Qing and you have gotten a lot closer

Especially after he's been your listening ear. He's also now your number one defender.

Your reputation continues about being a bitch but Mu Qing knows you differently now. He knows you can be soft.

He's reached a dilemma though.

Don't get him wrong you are kind and you're kind to others too. However there is a difference

Now that you two are always next to each other he gets the opportunity to see more of your interactions.

To others you are standoffish, but you're kind. To most people they see how stone like you are though.

So. . . Most people do think you're a bitch

You've never treated him like that though. You're always open and affectionate.

The closer you two get the more softer you act

Mu Qing doesn't know why, but you've been doing many things for him.

You've been buying him gifts, and he accepts them graciously of course.

He just doesn't know why you're doing it.

He can afford his own things you don't have to get him stuff so often and buy things that are so expensive.

You also make things for him. Mu Qing has many of your works placed in his own palace.

The gifts you've bought him cover shelves, and tables

Even his closet is full.

Other heavenly officials have spread word, that the stone-like goddess of the heavens has taken up dabbling in a sugar relationship.

Mu Qing asked why you were doing it once. He regrets it.

He remembers his face filled with heat when you said he deserves princess treatment.

What does that even mean? Mu Qing is no princess. . .

That sounds like something Xie Lian would have

And it is. He finds out when he asks Xie Lian what to do

It wasn't what he wanted to do but he had no where else to ask advice from.

Of course Xie Lian and Hua Cheng come in a package deal. The more he looks at them, the more he sees you and him.

Of course since you're both so close you guys go on more missions together.

Who else is he going to pick, Feng Xin?

Just recently you both completed a mission together.

Usually the two of you join up at your palace and spend time with one another

When Mu Qing arrives you aren't here though, hm.

He waits patiently in your art room.

You do finally show up, he can hear your footsteps patter against the floor

When he opens the door for you though he doesn't see your face but a bouquet of flowers instead.

You're blushing and you push the bouquet into his hands

Then before he can ask, you start rambling. About how you were trying to give him hints with your gifts. That you love him and if he would like you'd be happy to go out on a date

He's blushing to his gaze focusing on the flowers he's holding. Of course he agrees. Why wouldn't he? It would be foolish to assume he hasn't fallen for you too.

You spoil him so much, and treat him so well. Maybe he deserves this once in awhile. Mu Qing is covered in you

Literally

His clothes? You bought them. His hairpin? You bought that too. The sudden bracelets he's wearing? You wouldn't guess but it's you who bought them again.

Everywhere he goes he sees you even if you're not physically by his side at the moment. He doesn't remember when but you've intruded his life

He likes it though and he loves you too.

____________________________________

All done I hope you liked it again 🖤🥰 I'm sorry if it's short 😭

[marchofmistria]

Hey I saw your requests were open and wanted to ask you if you could a do how would the bachelor's react to reader's/farmer's fuck ass haircut? I just cut my own bangs and it's all crooked and need some comfort 🥺

Hey I'm so sorry this has been in my inbox for so long!! Thank you very much for sending, this was so funny to think about. Hope your bangs have grown out since :') 

March

You already know March would be brutal. He's not good at expressing himself and, especially before you're an actual couple and he starts to put effort into not hurting your feelings, he wouldn't think twice about insulting your haircut.

If you came up to him after ruining your hair, he wouldn't be able to hide his confused scowl and ask "what did you do to your hair?" 

If you find it funny and laugh, he'll probably laugh as well and continue teasing you. He'd probably say something like, you shouldn't be allowed to smelt hot metal if you can't even cut your bangs correctly. 

He would laugh if you met him where he was and teased him back, especially about how he can't dye his own hair so he shouldn't be talking. 

If you had a different reaction, however, and got upset or embarrassed and walked away, he'd probably reflect on how you were likely feeling pretty self-conscious and realize that was a low blow.

He'd apologize next time he saw you, rolling his eyes and attempting to fix his comment a bit by saying "at least hair grows back." 

Ryis

Ryis would probably notice it right away. He pays close attention to you, and he can likely tell you're feeling self-conscious. 

He'd try to preserve your feelings the best he could. He'd ask about it lightly and casually. "Hey Y/N, did you get a new haircut? I like it."

You'd definitely blush and get super embarrassed, saying that you know the haircut sucks. Even though Ryis might secretly agree that it's not exactly the best look, he definitely would not agree to you putting yourself down like that. 

"What are you talking about, it's fine! You always look nice, so your haircut doesn't really matter, anyways."

If you're truly upset about it, he'd continue to reassure you and tell you that you look beautiful regardless. But thankfully hair does grow back if you truly don't like it!

He'll continue to compliment you as it grows back so you don't doubt whether he still finds you attractive. 

Eiland

Eiland is a sweetheart and would try to calm you down if you were upset about the haircut you gave yourself. A lot of reassurance about your beauty and his love for you regardless. 

He'd probably start telling you some interesting facts about historical hairstyles of Aldaria or something, as a way to distract you. You may or may not find it annoying in the moment. 

If you're still feeling unhappy, he'd offer to pay to get your hair fixed by Vera or some other expensive hairstylist in the Capital. 

He'd continue to attempt to reassure you that you look very pretty regardless and this sort of thing happened to everyone! In fact, he read on an Alda-period stone tablet that a woman once cut her own hair and....

Balor

It's rare that Balor loses his cool charm, but you see it waver in his face for a moment when you first see each other after the haircut. 

He'd try to deny it and turn the charm all the way up to compensate, telling you that you look absolutely radiant today (even though you look beautiful every day!). You'd see through it right away and call him out on it. 

He may try to deny it at first, but eventually agrees that it's not the best haircut. He does emphasize, however, that even something like a bad haircut couldn't detract from your beauty at all and you do still look lovely.

He'd hold back a bit of a laugh when you give him a blank stare from behind your crooked bangs, though. 

He just happens to generously gift you a set of beautiful gold hairpins from the Capital. Perfect timing. He'll tell you the hairpins compliment your eyes very well once he's no longer distracted by the funny-looking fringe. 

Hayden

Hayden wouldn't even notice honestly. He always thinks you look beautiful and wouldn't sweat small details like that. 

If you came to him and showed him how you messed up your hair, he'd probably laugh and tell you not to think anything of it!

"I cut my own hair all the time, Y/N. It's probably a mess but that's just fine by me!" He likes you however you are, with whatever you decide to do with your appearance.

If you were to tell him that you thought you looked unattractive or that you were embarrassed and didn't want anyone to look at you, he'd get genuinely upset. He truly doesn't understand how you don't see yourself as beautiful, and especially over such a small thing!

He'd continue to tell you not to pay it any mind, that hair grows back, and that no one would even notice. He genuinely thinks the latter because he wouldn't have noticed it had you not pointed it out. 

He'd lend you one of his big hats to cover your hair with while you wait for it to grow out, if you wanted. 

[thornsent]

the poll is for attention but I'm curious what of this curiosities people would be drawn to... applying for apartments is really expensive when you're on an extremely fixed income due to disability and my partner and I really desperately need our own place!! things are really rough, please help us afford applications and down payments!!

vnm0 alumirust csh4pp $doppelgougar pypl alumirust@gmail.com

more info below the cut VVV

my girlfriend & I are both disabled queers currently unemployed while we try to apply for SS(D)I benefits. the state we live in blessedly has a temporary disability program but it's only $200/month, meaning we have very little income to work off of and our food stamps can only go so far for each of us. we're also in the midst of a housing crisis while we try to find an apartment on my section 8 voucher. we're living off of my girlfriend's savings while she was still able to work, but that's running out (and fast considering the car repairs she had to make and our unstable food situation as of late) and I'm really worried about being able to pay for applications and down payments. they're like $50/person here and the down payments would eat through our savings basically immediately, I'm genuinely terrified we're going to run out of money without a place to go and end up having to live out of her car.

[femmescripter]

More Maxley Headcanons

As the title says, I had headcanons come to mind. So here's the sequel that nobody asked for but I hope you'll all still enjoy it!

Imagine if everyone had tails for this headcanon. Max prefers to hide his tail as it's the one tell for his poodle side, and it gets very puffy and curly. Bradley is determined to see it one day and bets Max on who can skate down a handrail faster. The senior wins and Max reluctantly shows him his poodle tail. Fully expecting him to laugh Max is shocked when Bradley asks to touch it. A confusing request but he allows it. Upon feeling the soft, curly fur Bradley is immediately charmed by Max's cute tail. This actually helps Max to feel less insecure about his tail and show it off more - but now Bradley is very possessive and doesn't let anyone touch Max's tail. Except for him, of course.

When Bradley feels playful he likes to chase Max around the pool table at the Gamma House. And when he catches him Bradley will pin Max down on the table so they can make out. Tank and the rest of the Gammas elected that a new pool room had to be set up that specifically banned Bradley and Max with a sign saying "No Love Allowed" and Max and Bradley listed as "Not Allowed Entrance".

Max has surprisingly glorious hair. He just doesn't take that great of care of it apart from the occasional wash with standard shampoo. Bradley cannot stand by and let this carry on and makes Max's hair his new responsibility; washing, conditioning, combing, brushing and styling it to perfection. Max isn't opposed to it at all and likes the pampering. And Bradley takes pride in showing his hairstyling expertise. He also likes spoiling the Goof with spa days but he'll never say that…in the open. Max's hair also grows out very fast and Bradley keeps it at shoulder length, unable to bring himself to do more than trim the dark tresses to a maintainable length. It's not uncommon to see Max with various hairpins, expensive ones at that, in his hair that Bradley bought. Mocha could tell Max about the romantic connotation giving someone a fancy hairpin has in certain cultures...but she decided to let the freshman and senior work that out themselves.

The Gammas got their letterman jackets in from the campus store - and Bradley wants to give Max his jacket. Giving a lover your letterman jacket is basically the college equivalent of a promise ring. But he's worried that Max will find it corny and not like it. To his surprise Max confesses to him that he's been hoping that Bradley would give him his letterman jacket but was worried that he would think that Max was a dork for asking since he's a guy. Needless to say, Bradley had Max swaddled in his red and black large real leather letterman jacket the next day and made it a point that everyone on campus knew that Max was wearing his jacket. Bradley is British, but his family decided to move permanently to the United States when he was eight-years older after his grandmother died because Grandfather Lee was too saddened to stay in London anymore as their home country reminded him of his wife.

Max had to wear braces to prevent a potential ingrowth with his signature buckteeth for a few months. And he felt pretty insecure about it - having to wear braces as a young adult. Noticing this Bradley decided to do something to make Max feel less alone. He took out his eye contacts and put on his glasses. And Bradley doesn't have posh, Vogue magazines glasses. He has pocket protector, smug anime nerd glasses. Hence why he rarely wears them. But for the sake of making Max feel better about his braces it was worth it to bare being called an Otaku for a few months.

Max is highly sensitive in his hands, and it's why he always wears gloves. When he and Bradley get to the two-year mark, he surprises the Saluki by holding out his hands, sans gloves. Up to that point Bradley hasn't seen Max without them on and he hasn't pushed his boyfriend to take off his handwear. But now Max trusts Bradley enough to hold one of the most sensitive parts of himself. They just sit on the couch, holding hands while Max sits on Bradley's lap and slow jazz plays in the background. It's not a big event, but it's special to them. The company that Bradley's family has is called Uppercrust Shipping. It is a multi-national shipping conglomerate that originates in the United Kingdom. Here's an Omegaverse headcanon. Bradley was pretty upset about his skateboard breaking, and as a result began exhausting bitter scented Alpha pheromones. So Tank called Max for help with cheering him up. And to the rescue the Omega came with his bright disposition and his CD player with all of his favorite tunes. He popped an earbud into Bradley's ear, played the CD and snuggled into his side on the couch. Before long the pheromones in the Gamma House turned from bitter to sweet. Now the Gammas had a new problem. How to get rid of the smell of love.

When Bradley asked his Gamma brothers what he could do to get them to forgive him after the events of the X-Games, he fully expected having to do something stupid. Like skating around campus in a chicken costume or sleeping on the couch and giving up his room to someone else. Instead - they something else far more humiliating in mind. What, you ask? Well, it's no secret how utterly head over heels Bradley is for Max. And after he had got on his hands and knees wanted to apologize, which the freshman had accepted while also telling the senior the gesture wasn't necessary, the pair had started getting closer. Close enough to where Bradley was able to secure a date with Max. So what did Tank and the rest of the Gammas want in order to forgive Bradley and allow him back into the fold? The honor of dropping him off and picking him up on his first date with Max, and any other dates they would have for the next three months. And every time they did, they'd give him a megaphone fueled send-off with the following statement.

"Have a fun time, lover boy!"

What better form of retribution than for some monthly poking at their love sick leader? Of course it was embarrassing, but since it also made Max giggle Bradley wasn't that bent out of shape over it.

Bradley is very ticklish in his feet. Something that Max takes full advantage of whenever he feels mischievous, which is pretty much all the time, and wants to mess with his boyfriend. This is why Bradley never lets Max tie his skates or massage his feet when he offers - because he knows that he'll often have ulterior motives. But the senior can't deny that it does bring a smile to his face whenever Max tickles him.

Max has a childhood fear of snowstorms. When he was a kid - the power went out once while Goofy was at work. And P.J. and Bobby were away with their families at the time. So he was all alone. It left a traumatizing effect on Max. He never told anyone, although Goofy did partially suspect as much, but it was partially why he picked a college in a state that was known for having short winters. Unfortunately just because the winters were short - doesn't mean that the snow was light. And Max wasn't looking forward to the first snowfall of the season. When he confided in this to Bradley, he fully expected the older canine to make fun of him. Instead Bradley surprised Max by taking him to his family's winter home across state for the duration of the snowy times. When the Gammas asked why Bradley didn't ever invite them their leader simply stated,

"Family seasonal homes are for boyfriends only. I gave you guys the key to the liquor cabinet at the fraternity. Warm up the old-fashioned way!" One day when Bradley and Max visited Spoonerville together they ran into Max's old tormentor Leech, who hasn't changed his ways at all since he and Max last crossed paths. He was still a conman, still a creep and still a bully. But Max wasn't a little kid anymore - and knows to just ignore Leech or scare him off with the cops. He doesn't let the town crook's taunts and attempted shakedowns bother him. Bradley, however, is different. Bradley does not turn the other cheek. Bradley is not as mature as he leads people to believe. And Bradley does not like the idea of the man who caused his boyfriend harm in the past roaming about unpunished. It was simply unacceptable. But Max told Bradley that he didn't want him to waste his time on a person like Leech. And being the devoted, respectful boyfriend that he is - Bradley didn't do anything about Leech. Not personally, anyway. One of the perks of being the heir to a multi-national shipping conglomerate is that you have loyal, tight-lipped people to handle acts of retribution. And within a day Max notices that Leech isn't present in the back alleys of his hometown anymore. Then, within a few hours of that same day, a former neighbor tells him how Leech got picked up by some guys in suits at his apartment downtown in a black van. They don't know where it went or who the guys were, but what they know for sure is that Leech is gone. Max already has an idea as to who was responsible, so he asks his boyfriend one simple question. "Bradley...is there any chance you're the reason why Leech is gone?" Max warily inquired. The Saluki blinked at Max, then sighed as he wrapped an arm around his shoulders and leaned against him. "Oh darling. There's always a chance." Bradley dramatically replied as he gave Max a look that asked, 'do you really want to know'. And Max really didn't want to know. He never brought up Leech again after that.