#i mean in the end it ends in the dame way but you can see by the way the english is already different in meaning the jaoanese might be too

[starpros-sunshine]

I will never forgive the English translation of the full "stay awhile you are so fair" quote because that is not the same meaning as in the original English and maybe I am wrong and maybe my English is not good enough for that or I'm interpreting this wrong but there is a difference between "bearing something", accepting your fate in a defeated way, even if you do not want to (idk bearing has a pretty negative connotation to be because it's more.... suffering adjacent? I suppose? To me at least) and accepting it in a way that reads like "if it comes to this then I am already beyond saving and I will gladly accept my impending ruin because I brought this upon myself and with that I will live" in German he uses the word "gerne" that means you accept something in a positive way and that you're fine with something and you have no problems with it and that got lost in the English interpretation and I know poetry is different and difficult because of metrics and wordflow and the having it sound right while not losing the intended meaning but it's such a shame to me because the people who don't know the original German can't go insane over Sanctuary the same way I do and that is just such a pity.

[imaginespazzi]

Part 9: These Moments Of Ours

Masterlist - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8

Just crash, it's our time now (to make this work second time around)

(In which a people-pleasing author gives the people what they've been begging for)

Pairing: Paige Bueckers X Azzi Fudd

Themes: Fluff with a little bit Angst

Words: 7.2K Words

TW: Explicit Sexual Content, Swearing

A/N: Hello my lovelies <3 Thank you for being oh so patient with me because I know I really made y'all wait and hopefully it'll be worth the wait. I'm gonna keep this pretty short and sweet today so onto the usual. Please keep sending me your thoughts and theories; they're the best motivation a girl could ask for. I did edit but feel free to point out the inevitable typos/mistakes. As always, let me know what you liked, what you disliked and what you'd like to see going forward. Have a lovely rest of your week my loves :)

April 2030 

UConn 84   Notre Dame 82 

The blue and white section of the Moda Center crowd erupts in cheers as the final buzzer rings through the stadium. Confetti rains down on the court as the UConn Huskies are crowned national champions once again. Paige’s scream is drowned out by KK’s louder whoop as the two of them excitedly wrap their arms around each other, jumping up and down like they’re college students all over again. 

“Oh okay, love the inclusion,” Ice rolls her eyes but it morphs into a grin as her former teammates pull her into their group hug, all three of them making a ruckus that’s drowned out by the crowd around them roaring in excitement. 

“Can y’all be a little quieter. I’m tryna mourn my Irish in peace,” Sonia says lousily, glaring at them in irritation as she fiddles with her clover bracelet. 

“Oh cheer up Citron,” Paige teases her Wings teammate, “at least y’all finally made it back to the Final Four.”

“Fuck all the way off Bueckers-”

“GO HUSKIES,” a loud voice interrupts Sonia’s grumbling as Jana rushes into their section, the Valkyries center smiling vibrantly as she crashes into her old friends, “BLEED BLUE BABY!”

“Bleed blue!” the three UConn faithful chorus back as Sonia glumly saunters over to Maddy Westbeld who had come over with Jana, the two Fighting Irish alum sharing a commiserating hug. 

“This is why everyone finds you Huskies insufferable,” Maddy says with disgust. 

“Because we just keep winning? There, there little leprechauns,” Ice taunts, light-heartedly patting Maddy and Sonia’s heads as both of them bristle and flash the Wings forward with a synchronized middle finger, “I’m sure you’ll catch up to us never.”

Paige is about to join in on the ribbing when KK turns to Jana with a frown, “where’s Azzi? I thought all of y’all came together.”

She shouldn’t care this much anymore. It’s been five years and Paige thinks it’s a little ridiculous how quickly her ears perks up at the mention of her girlfriend, thinks it’s a little pathetic how she leans in closer to Jana, embarrassingly eager to hear the answer to KK’s question. 

“We did. She wanted to go call her parents to check on Stephie,” Jana explains. 

KK rolls her eyes, her face as disappointed as Paige feels, “of course she did.”

“What’s that supposed to mean,” Jana narrows her eyes at the shorter woman, a protective edge to her tone.  

“It means that this avoidance bullshit Azzi’s on is pretty fucking tired,” KK sneers. 

“KK bro chill,” Ice steps in immediately, looking worriedly between her two friends as Jana’s eyes flash with fire. 

“She’s checking on her daughter KK. She’s not trying to avoid anything,” Jana’s quietness is in stark contrast with the loud cheers around them and Paige swallows the guilt clawing at her throat. This is their fault. Her and Azzi’s. They’d caused an earthquake in their own lives and the aftershocks had rippled throughout their friends and families, creating rubble where there had once been solid foundations. 

KK laughs bitterly, “she had to check on her daughter right now? The game ended like three fucking seconds ago and she couldn’t just wait?”

“You’re being unfair.”

“Why are you always defending her?”

“Because she’s my teammate and it’s not all her fault,” Jana spits out, eyes briefly darting towards Paige who digs her fingernails into her palm, “it’s not her fault that she doesn’t always feel welcome around certain people.”

“And how about the rest of us people who’d really like to see her once in a while?” hurt tinges in KK’s words, “she can’t put the other shit aside for one fucking second?”

Jana opens her mouth, ready to defend her Azzi again but before she can speak, a calm voice cuts in, “hi guys.”

Goosebumps rush up Paige’s arms as she takes in the sight of the ex-girlfriend. There’s nothing extravagant to Azzi’s outfit, a simple UConn sweatshirt paired with black ripped jeans and minimal jewelry but she looks as radiant as always. There’s an awkward tension in the air as Azzi warily takes in the way KK and Jana are still glaring at each other. Her eyes accidentally lock with Paige and the blonde can see the same guilt of this is our collateral damage reflected back in those dark brown orbs. 

“Hi Azzi,” Ice is the first one to break the silence, wrapping the Valkyries shooting guard in a hug, “how’s Stephanie?”

Paige watches as Azzi’s eyes light up at the mention of her daughter's name, all of her previous apprehension gone as she begins to gush about the little girl, “she’s good. Somehow manipulated my dad into letting her stay up past her bedtime but good. She’s only two years old but already such a damn menace,” the brunette’s gaze wanders over to KK, “I guess that was to be expected huh? Any child of mine was bound to be one.”

KK cracks a half smile, bumping her shoulder against Jana’s as a truce sign, “you call it being menace, we call it being smart as hell right El Alfy?”

“Dude that’s what I tell her every time,” Jana immediately accepts the white flag, slinging an arm around the shorter woman, “Azzi just has genius children. Me, you, Nés and now Stephie.”

Ice gawks at the two of them, “seriously?”

“Well you see Ice, statistically she can’t have all genius children. Someone needed to be average,” KK mocks, high-fiving a giggling Jana. 

“Are y’all seeing this bullying?” Ice rounds on Paige and Azzi, hands on her hips with dramatically wide eyes, “are y’all really gonna let them bully your favorite child like this?”

“We don’t have favorites,” Paige and Azzi say at the same, pausing abruptly at the resurgence of familiar synchronicity between them. They glance briefly at each other, shuffling nervously, before immediately looking away. 

“I hate all of y’all,” Ice pouts, petulantly folding her arms against her chest. 

“Aw cheer up Icey,” Jana pats the top of Ice’s head, “how about a round of shots at the hotel bar to cheer you up?” she turns to Maddy and Sonia, who’d been having their own conversation, with a devilish grin, “losing team’s paying.”

“Y’all are sore winners,” Maddy huffs. 

Paige’s eyes dart towards Azzi, waiting for the younger woman to come up with a shallow excuse like she usually does to get out of having to spend more time with the blonde than necessary. And she knows that it’s unfair of her, knows that it’s only natural for someone to actively avoid being stuck in the same place as their past -thinks only a fool like her could want to be in their ex’s presence- but every time Azzi escapes being around her, Paige can’t help the disappointment that curls in her stomach. 

“Y’all coming,” KK asks, a slight edge to her voice as she twists to look at Paige and Azzi. 

“Of course,” Paige grins, locking arms with Sonia who immediately groans, “I’m not passing up free drinks. Especially not when the Irish are paying.”

“Az?” KK’s eyes are hopeful. 

Azzi bites her lip and Paige can almost see the cogs turning in her brain before she schools her features into a soft smile, “yeah. I’ll come.”

*** 

Paige isn’t sure how it happens. Well actually, that’s not quite right. She definitely has an idea of how it happened. She’s not quite sure when KK, Ice and Jana had had time to devise the plan but she’s certain that’s how it happened. Because really, there’s no other reasonable explanation for how she and Azzi have ended up being the only two people, from their previous party of seven, that are still sitting at the bar. Maddy and Sonia had left first, muttering under their breaths about not wanting to be around insufferable winners. Ice had been the next to leave, making up an excuse about how she wanted to call her boyfriend. Then Jana had apparently needed the bathroom. When she hadn’t returned in a solid 15 minutes, it was KK’s turn. A barely disguised grin and a hard-to-believe lie of  I think Jana got lost, I should go help her on her lips as she’d excused herself to the sound of Paige and Azzi’s protests. 

The two of them sit in awkward silence for a bit until Azzi suddenly bursts out laughing, the corner of her eyes crinkling. Paige regards her with amusement, trying to ignore the way the sound of the younger woman laughing feels like hearing her favorite song come on in the car on a warm summer road trip. 

“You’re a little young to be going crazy,” she remarks. 

“Shut up,” Azzi rolls her eyes, lightly punching Paige’s shoulder, “it’s just- they’re still all really shitty liars.”

Paige laughs, “and they still come up with the dumbest plans.”

“Do you remember when they locked us in the Werth changing rooms when we had that stupid fight-”

“Hey,” Paige interrupts indignantly, “it wasn’t stupid-”

“It was definitely stupid-”

“You asked Carol to drive you to rehab instead of me.”

“Because you had practice at the same time.”

“I wouldn’t have minded being five minutes late to practice.”

Azzi snorts, “more like half an hour and you sure as shit wouldn’t have been fine when coach would have yelled at you and made you run suicides after.”

“I wouldn’t have cared,” Paige shrugs, “running suicides would have been worth it for an extra hour with you.”

Azzi stares at her, mouth opening and closing several times before she finally looks away, a soft sigh falling from her lips, “you’re doing it again.”

“I’m not doing anything,” Paige says, unable to keep the defensiveness from creeping into her words. 

“You are,” Azzi slips off the barstool, “you are and you don’t even know it.”

“Azzi,” Paige curls her hand around the other woman’s bicep, pulling her in to stop her from leaving and it’s a bad idea because now they’re too close and her heartbeat quickens immediately at the fact that if she leaned in just a little bit more, there would be no more space left between them, “what am I doing?”

“You’re- you-” Azzi stutters, gulping as her eyes briefly flicker down to Paige’s lips, “you’re making me feel.”

“Making you feel what?” Paige presses. 

For a second, Paige thinks Azzi might just give in to her heart, might just tell the truth but then something hardens in her face, and the next word that slips out of her mouth has both of them going rigid, “how’s your wife Paige?”

“Az-”

“I should go to bed,” Azzi says firmly, trying to wriggle out of Paige’s tightening grip. 

“Azzi-”

“I have an early flight and I should probably wake up a little earlier than I normally would cause you know Jana’s gonna need me to wake her up,” Azzi rambles still trying to twist her arm out of Paige’s hold. 

“Hold on-”

“Can you just let go of me-”

“I’m trying to tell-”

“I really need to get to bed-’

“Az-”

“I have to go-”

“Azzi I’m getting a divorce,” Paige bursts out; the admission feels light a heavy weight off her chest.

Azzi stops fighting against the blonde’s grip, “oh.”

“We’ve- um-” Paige’s throat feels dry as Azzi’s eyes continue to bore into her, “we’ve been separated for a while and I finally-uh- finally filed the papers a little while ago. So um- to your question- I uh- I don’t know how she is because I- I don’t- there uh- there isn’t- there isn’t a wife.”

There’s silence for a bit as Azzi’s head bops up and down as she processes Paige’s revelation, “I’m um-” she clears her throat, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’s not like it’s your fault,” and that’s not completely true -not when Olivia had repeatedly thrown the past back in Paige’s face- but she doesn’t think Azzi needs to know that, doesn’t want the younger woman to feel guilty for things beyond her control. She’s confused when Azzi flinches, like a memory has just pinched her nerves. 

“Right,” Azzi bites, “I really should- I really should be going to bed.”

Something gloomy settles across Paige’s heart as she nods at the brunette’s words, slipping out of her own chair as they start walking towards the elevator in the lobby. She feels antsy, like she’s leaving something incomplete. The silence rings loud between them as they wait for the elevator doors to open, keeping as much distance as they can from each other. It feels like ages before the familiar ding! finally rings out around them. Despite the abundance of room inside, the doorway into the elevator is rather condensed and their shoulders brush against each other as they make their way inside. Audible sighs involuntarily roll off of their tongues at the brief second of contact as they both shiver from each other’s familiar touch. There’s enough space now that they could easily move away -they probably should move away- but instead they stay pressed together. The sound of their uneven breathing fills the elevator as the doors close in front of them.

“I’m uh- I’m on the third floor,” Azzi says as she presses the #3 button, “you?”

“Fifth,” Paige breathes out, eyes fixated on the goosebumps that appear on the back of Azzi’s neck as her hands shake while pushing the #5 button. 

The elevator jolts up and Paige immediately reaches for Azzi’s hips to steady her, eliciting a small gasp from the other woman. She waits for Azzi to move away but the brunette stays put and Paige doesn’t move her hands. 

The doors open on the third floor. Both of them suck in a sharp breath. 

Azzi doesn’t get out. 

*** 

Paige wakes up to the dreadful sound of her alarm clock blaring around her room. It takes a second before the memories of last night start pounding against her skull. Her body aches in the best way possible. The room is still dark -just like it had been last night- and she closes her eyes, trying to revisit the feeling of Azzi’s lips pressed against her forehead, right before the younger woman -with her hair disheveled and bitemarks littered across her jawline-  had left Paige’s room. 

Paige hadn’t asked Azzi to stay. She wonders if she should have; wonders if Azzi would have agreed if she’d asked. But she hadn’t asked and Azzi hadn’t stayed. She regrets it a little bit. She wonders if Azzi does too. And Paige thinks that maybe that’s just the melancholic truth about their tragic story. 

Maybe they’re destined to always regret. 

*** 

April 2033

Paige thinks Azzi’s guest room air conditioning must be broken or something. There’s no other explanation for why, despite having kicked off every single blanket, she feels like she’s tossing and turning in red hot lava. She feels restless, like she has a purpose that she’s leaving unfulfilled. All the different scenes from tonight are rushing through her head, but her heart keeps stuttering on the last one; an image of the way Azzi had looked at her before they’d kissed good night. 

Azzi had asked her to stay even if she’d hidden it under a lame disguise of it being too late and Paige being too angry to drive home alone. And it’s not completely false that her blood is still boiling, their little encounter with fucking asshole still dangerously lingering in her mind as she thinks of the 101 ways she would have liked to murder him. But they both know that the minute Azzi had run her hand down Paige’s back, the moment she’d called her baby, the moment she’d given her the reassurance she was too scared to ask for but needed desperately, Paige had felt all the anger in her body replaced by that familiar sense of calm only Azzi had ever been able to provide. 

And after that had been decided, they’d both hesitated in the hallway, looking back and forth between Azzi’s master bedroom and the guestroom. Paige doesn’t know what had possessed her, why she’d decided tonight of all nights to play this false chivalrous rule-abiding good girl persona when it was the last thing she wanted to do. Because the last couple of weeks had been hell. The stupid rules had been hell. Going slow had been hell. Having to pull away from Azzi and walk out the door every night when all she wanted to was to lose herself in the brunette’s arms had been hell. But she’d done it for Azzi. She’d done it because there isn’t a thing in the world that she wouldn’t do for Azzi. Except tonight had been different. There had been that look on Azzi’s face -the way the younger woman had bitten her lips, the way her eyes had been hooded over, the way her cheeks had been flushed as her gaze roamed over Paige’s body- and  it had morphed into one of pure disappointment when Paige had said she’d take the guestroom. 

You’re a fucking idiot Paige Bueckers, she thinks to herself as she bolts right up, the image finally burning a little too bright behind her eyelids to continue this façade of trying to sleep. Perhaps it’s pointless. It’s late and Azzi loves her sleep; there’s no way she’s awake. But Paige slides out of bed anyways, breathing unevenly as she turns on the nightlight and walks towards her door. She doesn’t have a plan, doesn’t have any idea what she’d even say if Azzi is, by some miracle of god, even awake. But fuck it, Paige needs to see this through. She pauses at the door, hands wrapping around the cold handle as she gives herself one more chance to back out. Really, she doesn’t even know why she’s so nervous. It’s Azzi. Her Azzi. 

Paige twists the handle to tug the door open. 

Azzi’s eyes widen in surprise, her fisted hand -that had clearly been raised to knock on the mahogany door- freezing in place as she swallows and Paige is mesmerized by the way it highlights the veins in her neck. Her eyes move downwards, fixating on where Azzi’s oversized t-shirt hangs looser on one-side, leaving her right shoulder and collarbone on display. The shirt right above her thighs, giving Paige the perfect display of Azzi’s toned long legs looming beneath and the blonde gulps at the sight. 

“Hi,” Azzi speaks first, the low graveliness in her tone causing a coil of want to wrap itself around Paige’s stomach. 

“Hey,” Paige whispers back, “couldn’t sleep?”

Azzi bites her lip, “no- I just uh-, people always say- like when Jana sleeps over or something- she always says that- that the guest room is um- it’s too cold so I just- I wanted to make sure- wanted to ask-” she clears her throat, taking a step forward as she look earnestly at Paige, “are you cold?”

“So cold,” Paige confirms, moving closer to Azzi so their chests are almost touching. 

“You could um-” Azzi licks her teeth, “you could stay in Stephie’s room-” 

“I could?” Paige asks, pressing herself flush against the younger woman, hands wrapping around her waist. There’s barely space for air between them but she wants to get closer, wants to stitch herself into Azzi’s skin and keep them intertwined forever. 

“You could but,” Azzi’s hand trails Paige’s biceps, causing the blonde to shiver, before finally interlocking around her neck, “I think- I think her bed might be a little small for you.”

“Way too small,” Paige breathes against Azzi’s skin as she nips at the brunette’s jawline, before ghosting her lips against her neck, leaving a trail of mine mine mine down her throat.

“Paige,” Azzi’s voice is breathless as she tilts her head, hissing when Paige bites harshly right above her collarbone, immediately soothing it with her tongue, “I think- I think-fuck” she cuts herself with a moan as Paige turns them around, maneuvering them back towards the bed that suddenly looks far more inviting then it had before,  “I just think-”

“You think too much,” Paige says softly, finally removing her lips from Azzi’s skin -she misses the taste of it immediately- so she can smile teasingly at the brunette. 

“Do I?” Azzi grins dopily. 

Paige rolls her eyes, continuing to walk them backwards, “way, way too much.”

They’re forced to a halt when the back of Azzi’s thighs collide against the backframe of the bed. It feels like a turning point, like they could unlock a new chapter or keep themselves on the one they’re already on. And while Paige would really to skip forward, she’ll be okay with whatever happens next as long as the story being written is still theirs, still about her and Azzi. 

“Paige,” Azzi whispers again -and Paige loves the way Azzi’s lips curl around the syllable of her name- as she bunches the blonde’s shirt in her hands, “make me stop thinking.”

“Whatever you want baby,” Paige promises before they both go tumbling into the mattress, their lips colliding in a heated kiss. It feels like they’re trying to meld themselves into each other, like their bodies are carving out an indent of you and i just always feel right against the bedsheets. 

“I want this off,” Azzi breathes out between kisses, hands lifting the edge of Paige’s shirt, “off, off, off.”

“So bossy,” Paige smirks, leaning up off of Azzi to take off her shirt in a tantalizingly slow manner, enjoying the way the brunette’s eyes darken as they glide across her abs first and then her breasts, “enjoying the sho- fuck Az.”

The words are stolen from her mouth as Azzi swirls her tongue around one erect nipple, her hands cupping Paige’s ass to balance the blonde on top of her. She’s always known exactly how to get Paige to shut the fuck up. Paige groans as Azzi flips them over, shifting herself to press her thigh in between Paige’s legs and the blonde can’t help but grind up against it, desperate for some much needed friction, as Azzi sucks a possessive bruise against her jaw. 

“Missed this,” Azzi whispers, as she kisses down Paige’s neck, “and this,” a kiss pressed against her collarbone, “and these,” Azzi presses her lips softly to each breast, “and this,” against Paige’s stomach, “and these,” two featherlight kisses are peppered against her hip bones, “and I really missed these.”

“Azzi,” Paige moans as the brunette’s lips glide across the inside of her thighs, taking her sweet time marking only i could ever make you feel like this against every inch of Paige’s skin. 

Azzi stops right above the edge of Paige’s boxers before slowly peeling them off as sparkling brown eyes staring up at her with a myriad of unspoken emotions that Paige could spend a lifetime trying to memorize, “missed all of this. Missed everything about you. Missed you so much baby.”

Vulnerability echoes in Azzi’s voice as she slowly moves herself back up, hands coming to cup Paige’s face as they press their foreheads together. And it’s not like she hadn’t known that Azzi must have missed her in these last couple of years. But there’s a part of Paige that had thought that there was no way Azzi could have missed her as much as she missed Azzi. Because missing Azzi had felt all consuming, like there was a constant noose around her neck that got tighter and tighter with every day that passed by. But there’s something about the way the words reverberate around the room, something about the way Azzi looks like she can finally breathe again after saying it out loud that it hits Paige; it hits her that they’ve both been suffocating without each other. 

“I missed you too,” she breathes out, tears pooling at the edge of her eyes, “missed you so fucking much Azzi.”

“Yeah?” Azzi whispers, lips catching the lone tear that falls from Paige’s eyes, “how much?”

Paige shudders as Azzi’s fingers teasingly ghost over her wet folds, “s-so much. Azzi please. Need it so bad. Need you so bad.”

“Whatever you want baby,” Azzi repeats Paige’s own words back to her before she finally gives her what she’s desperately been craving, two fingers rhythmically pumping in and out of her pussy as her thumb rubs circles against Paige’s clit. 

“Fuck, fuck, just like that-” a litany of curses waterfall from Paige’s lips as she bucks her hips up against Azzi’s hand, “fuck please.”

“Please what?” Azzi asks coyly, fingers moving at a faster face as she hides a grin against Paige’s neck, “gotta tell me what you want baby.”

“W-want your mouth please- please Azzi-baby please,” Paige begs, writhing underneath her when Azzi immediately complies, lips attaching to her clit as she adds another finger, “fuck Azzi- I’m so close.”

“I know baby,” the words vibrate against Paige’s core, sending another bout of ecstasy shooting up her spine as she feels that familiar buildup in her stomach.

“Azz I’m gonna-”

“I know. Let go baby. I’ve got you. I’m gonna catch you I promise,” Azzi whispers. 

And it’s those words, that promise, that sends Paige over the edge, a cry of Azzi’s name falling from her lips. Because she knows Azzi means them for a lot more than just this moment, that those words -the promise- are born out of something deeper than lust. And maybe neither of them are quite ready to acknowledge that yet, not ready to make vows that teeter dangerously close to the ones they watched themselves break in the past, but it lingers between them, like a string made of we’ve always been inevitable connecting their hearts to each other. 

Azzi slowly eases her fingers out of Paige, pressing open-mouthed kisses against the older woman’s stomach as she recovers from her high, before looking up at her with a smirk. Never breaking eye contact, Azzi slips her fingers into her own mouth, leisurely sucking at them as she watches Paige’s face contort with desire. 

“Was I good?” she asks teasingly and Paige growls. 

“How have you gotten better at that? Actually you know what never mind,” Paige shakes her head, “I don’t want to know that.”

Azzi laughs, hiding her face against Paige’s neck, “only that good for you.”

“Good,” Paige tightens her arms around the woman on top of her and then scrunches her face as she feels the material of Azzi’s shirt itch against her wrists, “well this is unfair.”

“What is?” Azzi hum backs. 

“I’m fully fucking naked and you haven’t taken a single thing off,” Paige grumbles as she coaxes Azzi’s face out of her neck, hands gripping the edge of her shit, “take this off.”

Azzi stills, her previous serene expression replaced by something more nervous, as she lifts herself up so she’s straddling the older woman’s hips, “Paige-”

“What’s wrong?” Paige’s senses are on high alert immediately as she rises up herself, maneuvering them so Azzi’s fully on her lap. 

“I just-,” Azzi draws in a deep breath, looking downwards as she chews her lips.

“Hey,” Paige whispers, lifting the younger woman’s chin back up before pressing their foreheads together, “talk to me baby.”

“Can we just-” Azzi plays with the end of Paige’s hair, “can we maybe just-” she cocks her head towards the nightlight on the desk, “do you think we could turn the light off?”

“What?” Paige asks confusedly, “Azzi I’ve seen you naked-”

“Not since- not since I had Stephie,” Azzi interrupts, cowering under Paige’s intense stare, “the lights- the lights were off that one time and the other time I don't think- I don’t think we were sober enough for me to care or for you to remember so can we just-”

“Azzi,” Paige cups the younger woman’s face, “baby there is no amount of alcohol in the world that could make me forget you. Trust me I’ve tried,” she slips her hand under Azzi’s shirt, caressing the skin underneath, “but every time I see you baby, I memorize every little part of you,” she dances her fingertips across where she remembers those stretch marks -the ones Azzi is so afraid of her seeing again- are littered across her stomach, “and whether I’m sober or drunk or something in between, I always think every little bit of you is perfect.”

“Paige,” Azzi says softly, something akin to awe coating her voice. 

“Just wanna make you feel as good as you made me feel baby. Please,” Paige wraps her fingers around the edge of Azzi’s shirt again, “can I?”

“Okay,” Azzi concedes quietly, lifting her arms so Paige can finally tug the offending shirt off. 

Paige gives herself a moment to look at the woman in front of her, the woman whose body she’s seen countless times yet she swears that it feels like a different adventure every time. And then she lets herself have a taste, running her tongue lazily across Azzi’s skin, as she slowly maneuvers them so she can hover above the younger woman. A soft smile flitter across her face as she rubs her fingers over the tattoo printed across Azzi’s ribcage. It’s a purple S tattoo, with butterfly wings fanning out on either side. For Stephie. 

Keeping her eyes trained on the darker-skinned , she brushes her lips across the stretch marks on the darker-skinned woman’s abdomen and she hopes that Azzi can read the all of your imperfections are still made for me that Paige is spelling out against her skin. She uses her teeth to pull down Azzi’s panties, smirking to herself when she hears the younger woman's breath hitch above her. Eyes still interlocked with Azzi’s, Paige is purposefully slow as she licks a stripe up Azzi’s folds, relishing the way the other woman’s eyes roll back into her head. 

“So fucking wet,” she hums, “all for me?”

“You know-” Azzi shudders when Paige’s lips brush against her clit, still teasing, “you know it is.”

Paige smirks, “only for me.”

“Please,” Azzi begs as Paige continues to lazily lap at her pussy, giving her something but not quite enough. 

“Say it,” Paige demands, harshly biting against Azzi’s inner thigh as she brings up a hand to rub infinity signs around Azzi’s clit, “say it’s only for me.”

“It’s only for you-” Azzi cuts herself off with a scream as Paige plunges her tongue deep inside her, setting a tempo she knows will have Azzi seeing stars. 

“Doing so good for me baby,” Paige coos as she adds two fingers with her tongue, “always so good for me.”

“Fuck,” Azzi fists the bedsheets, trying to gain some semblance of control as she writhes under Paige’s touch, “feels so good. Paige please.”

“I know,” Paige whispers, “I know what you need baby.”

And that’s the thing about them. That’s why it’s good every single time. Because Paige knows every little crevice of Azzi’s body like it’s her own, knows exactly where to touch and how to touch to elicit those little gasps of pleasure that she wishes she could record and listen to on loop. And it doesn’t matter how long they go without each other in between, coming back always feels like home. But as much as she loves the feeling of coming back, Paige never wants to feel it again. Because this time, she hopes there is no in between without each other. She hopes that this time, they both stay. 

“Paige,” Azzi moans again, her name falling from her mouth like a prayer. 

“I’ve got you,” Paige whispers, capturing Azzi’s lips with her own as she continues her ministrations with her hand, “fall apart for me baby. I swear I’ll put you back together.”

There’s nothing quite like watching Azzi come undone and Paige drinks in the sight of the other woman quivering as she grabs the blonde’s bicep so tight that it’s bound to leave a victory mark. Paige coaxes her through it, nibbling at Azzi’s jawline as the younger woman slowly climbs down from her peak, going limp in Paige’s arms. 

They’re quiet for a while, languorously pressing delicate kisses against each other's skin, soft hands exploring all over each other’s familiar bodies as they tangle their legs together; close not being close enough. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” Paige whines when Azzi starts to move out of her grasp. 

“I got what I came for,” Azzi teases, “so I’m going back to my own bed.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Paige scowls, pulling the younger woman back into her chest. 

Azzi laughs, kissing away Paige’s pout as she wriggles out of her grip and slips out of the bed, “relax. I’m just getting something to clean us up with.”

“Well hurry up. I’m already cold,” Paige mewls before letting out a wolf-whistle as her eyes drift over Azzi’s naked retreating form, appreciating the tautness of the brunette’s back muscles down to her perfectly curved ass. 

“You’re 31 years old Paige Bueckers,” Azzi chides as she walks into the ensuite bathroom but Paige can hear the blush in her voice. 

“And you’re hot as fuck Azzi Fudd,” Paige calls out with a smirk, keeping the and you’re all mine as a secret in her own thoughts. 

“You’re not bad yourself Bueckers,” Azzi returns from the bathroom with a smile and a damp cloth as she hops back onto the bed, gently dabbing it between Paige’s thighs. 

It’s a simple act but Paige feels tears prickle at the corner of the eyes. Because it signifies so much more than just this moment. For most of her life, Paige had grown accustomed to the idea that no one would take care of her unless she took care of them first. She didn't know it was possible that someone could reach out first, that they could hold her first without any expectation of anything else in return. Until Azzi. 

“Baby?” Azzi’s voice is wrapped in concern as she takes notice of Paige’s tears, immediately rising up to brush them away, “what’s wrong?”

“Nothing I just-” Paige loops her arms around Azzi’s neck, shuddering slightly at how earnest the younger woman’s face is, “I really fucking missed you.”

Azzi’s eyes soften as she caresses Paige’s cheek before pressing her lips against her forehead, “I really fucking missed you too.”

***

Paige’s eyes flutter awake to sunlight peeking through the blue curtains of Azzi’s guest bedroom. She groans, shifting to bury her face further into the brunette’s stomach, pinching it when Azzi laughs above her. Lifting her head slightly, Paige can’t help but smile at the woman above her. Azzi’s got her glasses on, a book in her hands as she peers down at Paige with nothing but pure fondness. Something aches in Paige’s chest as countless visions of mornings just like this fill her head. She’d resigned herself to believing that she’d never get this back again, that she’d have to rely on memories of the past to fill the empty void that rattled hollowly against her chest every time she’d woken up without Azzi by her side. 

“Morning sleepy head,” Azzi says softly, putting her book down to brush her fingers through Paige’s hair, “assuming you slept well considering you didn’t even notice when I left to grab my glasses and a book from my room.”

Paige frowns, “you left me?”

“I was bored,” Azzi defends herself, “you were fast asleep and I had nothing to occupy myself with.”

“I can believe you left me,” Paige petulantly accuses again. 

“I didn’t leave-”

“You left me!”

“Okay fine,” Azzi concedes with an eyeroll, “but I came back.”

“Yeah you did,” a soft smile takes over Paige’s features as she leans up to brush her lips against Azzi’s, “you came back.”

“I did,” Azzi whispers against Paige’s mouth, cupping the older woman’s face with her hands. 

Paige is about to deepen the kiss, her hands beginning to slip lower, when the sound of a doorbell ruins any chances of putting in motion any of the uncordial ideas that had taken birth in her mind. She groans as Azzi immediately pulls away.

“Shit, I didn’t realize they’d be here so early.” the younger woman curses, hurriedly tossing Paige’s discarded clothes at her, “here, put your clothes on. I’ll go down first while you change.”

“I- I can come down?” Paige asks slowly. 

Azzi crinkles her eyes in confusion, “what do you mean? What else would you do?”

“I just. I dunno-” Paige shrugs, “I just assumed you uh- you wouldn’t want Stephie to know I stayed the night. I figured I’d sneak out of the window or something.”

“Paige,” Azzi whispers, walking over to grip the older girl’s hands, “you’re not- you’re not my dirty little secret or anything. I’m not- I’m not quite ready to tell Stephie about us- hell I’m not even really sure what we are yet but I know- I know that I don’t want to hide you from her. Besides,” she nudges Paige humorously, “we’re on the 2nd floor babe. I don’t need you trying to climb out the window and breaking your knee before the season even starts.”

Paige watches quietly as Azzi walks out the door. She doesn’t think the younger woman quite understands how much she had needed to hear those words, how much she had needed to not feel like a secret again. It fills Paige with a sense of hope, hope that maybe things would be different this time. Maybe things would be better this time. 

*** 

“Miss Buecks,” Stephie squeals from Azzi’s arms as she spots Paige descending down the stairs, “you’re already here!”

Paige smiles at the little girl, tapping her nose over Azzi’s shoulder, “I promised you I’d be here bright and early didn’t I?”

“Very bright and early,” Katie cocks an eyebrow as she smirks at Paige and Azzi, “how did you get here so early Paige?”

“Don’t be silly Nanna. She drove of course,” Stephie says matter-of-factly before scrunching up her nose, “but Miss Buecks. How come your car isn’t outside then?”

“That’s a great question Stephie,” Katie says and Paige thinks the woman’s a little bit too peppy for a grandmother, “why isn’t your car outside Paige?”

“Because-” Azzi gives her mother an exasperated look before fixing her eyes on her daughter, “because Paige slept over last night.”

“Miss Buecks slept over last night?” Stephie repeats. 

“I did,” Paige confirms, glaring at Katie as she snickers in the corner. 

“Mama can you please put me down,” Stephie says finally. 

The little girl looks upset and Paige feels her heart constrict with fear. In general, she doesn’t really do well with people being mad at her. But she definitely doesn't think she can take Stephie of all people being mad at her. The little girl has chiseled herself into Paige’s heart and if she ever left, Paige thinks she’d leave a hole so big, her entire heart would cease working. 

Azzi shares a nervous look with Paige as she sets her daughter down before crouching down to Stephie’s level, “what’s wrong Stephie-bean?”

Stephie’s bottom lip trembles as she looks between her mother and Paige, “you let Miss Buecks sleepover.”

“I-” Azzi looks helplessly between her own mother and Paige, both of whom look just as tense, “I did but sweetheart why is that upsetting you? You like Miss Buecks.”

“I love Miss Buecks,” Stephie wails and Paige lets out a sigh of relief, the little girl's words wrapping themselves around her like a warm blanket. 

Azzi blanches for a second, “I don’t understand then what’s the problem-”

 “YOU GUYS HAD A SLEEPOVER WITHOUT ME,” Stephie yells, stomping her tiny feet.  

Oh. 

“Stephie-” Azzi says softly, unable to keep the smile off of her face. 

“I can’t believe you’d do this to me Mama,” Stephie sniffs as she turns to Paige with a betrayed expression, “and you Miss Buecks. How could you guys have a sleepover without me?”

“Oh sweetheart,” Paige falls to her knees beside Azzi, trying not to smile when Stephie dramatically turns her face away from them, “we didn’t mean to. It was just really late when we got back from the party-”

“The party,” Stephie cries out, “first you went to a party without me and then you had a sleepover without me. I can’t bel-ieve you guys would do that to me. Don’t you guys love me at all?”

“We’re really sorry Stephie,” Paige says as seriously as she can, reaching out to fold Stephie’s tiny hands into her much larger one. 

“Very, very, sorry,” Azzi echoes. 

“I don’t know,” Katie supplies unhelpfully from where she’s watching the whole situation with pure amusement, “they don’t seem that sorry Stephie.”

“Mom!” “Katie!”

Katie raises her hands in mock surrender as both Paige and Azzi glare at her, “just looking out for my granddaughter’s best interest.”

“Stephie-bean,” Paige says again, maneuvering the little girl’s body to face her, “your Mama and I are very, very, sorry for having a sleepover without you. Please forgive us.”

Stephie looks at the adults kneeling in front of her with a contemplative expression, “you promise you’ll never do it again?”

“Never,” Azzi promises as Paige nods along.

“And when we go to the park today I can get three scoops of ice cream?” the little girl asks, the hint of a smile starting to breakthrough her lips. 

“I don’t know about that one sweetheart. That’s a lot of ice-”

“Of course you can!”

“Paige!” Azzi hisses. 

“And you’ll push me on the swing at the park for twenty minutes?”

“I’ll even push you for thirty minutes if you want,” Paige says and Azzi rolls her eyes. 

“Just had to one-up it didn’t you Bueckers,” she mutters under her breath. 

“And even though Miss Buecks said she’d get me fries at the park, I can get In-N-Out for dinner too?”

“You’re pushing it Stephie-bean-”

“In-N-Out for dinner sounds perfect,” Paige winks at Stephie as a full smile finally overtakes the little girl’s face. 

“You’re hopeless,” Azzi chides the blonde, throwing her hands up exasperatedly but there’s no denying the grin on her face as she looks back at Stephie, “is that all your highness? Are we finally forgiven or did you want to ask us for more unhealthy things?”

“Just one more thing,” Stephie’s eyes twinkle with mischief, “Miss Buecks has to sleepover tonight too.”

Paige and Azzi share a toothy smile with each other before turning to the little girl. 

“I think that could be arranged.”

The words are barely out of Paige’s mouth before Stephie goes tumbling into her and Azzi, tiny arms somehow wrapping around both of their necks as she pulls them into a group hug. The two adults laugh, cocooning the little girl in between them as she rambles on about how excited she is.  And Paige thinks that when all is said and done, when she looks back on her life, she’ll remember this moment as the one where everything started to finally come together. Right now, with Stephie's arms wrapped around her neck and Azzi’s hands curling around the little girl’s back to intertwine their fingers together, this moment here feels perfect. This moment feels like it belongs to Paige.

[i-heart-hxh]

Does killua know gon loves him?

Hi anon! This is such a simple question, but not a simple one to answer. I'll do my best, though!

So, I think the answer is both yes and no, in different ways.

Yes, in the sense that Gon has directly expressed his appreciation of and admiration towards Killua multiple times, said he enjoys being with him and wants to stay with him, and even called him his best friend at the end of Greed Island (really BEST friend, 最高の友達, saikou no tomodachi--I think the translation of "best friend in the whole world" gets the emphasis of this phrase across pretty well).

He said it "Has to be Killua," (キルアじゃなきゃダメなんだ, Killua ja nakya dame nanda) in the dodgeball match, which has implications both during the match and outside of it, that Killua is the only one he fully trusts and the only one who can be by his side for something this pivotal. This phrase has romantic implications, essentially the subtextual meaning is "Killua is the only one for me," hence why Killua reacts as strongly as he does to it. Notice how much he hides his face on this page.

So, I think it's silly to say Killua has no idea Gon cares about him deeply and values him. There are so many moments where Gon says things like this. It's partly why Killua loves Gon so much, because Gon isn't afraid to express that level of love and care and appreciation towards him, as uncomfortable as he acts about it. He's just unused to that receiving kind of praise and attention simply for being himself, rather than being praised for his abilities.

With Killua's views of himself, it's hard for him to fully accept Gon's affection and take it to heart, but luckily Gon is straightforward and doesn't hold back, and keeps repeatedly telling Killua how much he means to him. As the series goes, they form a strong mutual bond and relatively good understanding of each other.

The problem is that multiple things happen in Chimera Ant Arc to disrupt Killua's sense of where he belongs in Gon's life.

He "fails" by fleeing from Pitou with Gon and "leaving Kite to die." While Gon doesn't blame Killua for the decision he made and neither does Kite, Killua nonetheless certainly blames himself for this to a degree. (Remember the scene with Morel and Knov mocking him?) It doesn't help that Bisky tells him that because of his inability to face opponents he sees as stronger than him, he'll eventually leave Gon to die. Then he watches the awful ramifications of what Kite's death does to Gon, knowing he had a role in what happened.

Gon goes on the date with Palm, and Killua variously misinterprets this whole situation to mean that Gon has been on real dates with women previously (I do not think he had been on any dates in an actual romantic sense), Gon actually might have romantic feelings towards Palm, and that they're in some degree of a relationship even after Gon tells her they can't be together and Palm quietly dumps Gon in favor of Knov after the date. This sends Killua spiraling into his whole "Are we friends? Or are we teammates?" concerns, in conjunction with the next factor.

Gon's "I swear... I'll take on that bastard myself," about Pitou, and the later "This has nothing to do with you," line. Remember how much Gon relied on Killua in the dodgeball match, and how much that meant to Killua? Remember how Killua very nearly died and his last thoughts were apologizing that he wasn't more useful to Gon? Killua stakes his whole sense of self on being useful to Gon, so when Gon makes taking down Pitou a solo mission, Killua doesn't know what role he has at Gon's side any more.

I'm sure there are plenty more factors I'm leaving out, but these are the main issues that lead to the gulf that develops between them during the course of Chimera Ant Arc.

Ever after all of this, they're still friends, they're on reasonably good terms when they part even though it's complex and fraught, but there's just so much they're not saying to each other about how they really feel.

I think Killua still knows Gon cares about him with the way they leave off--they agree to stay in touch, say they'll meet again, Killua even teases Gon about the way he treated him a few times and sees that Gon feels awful when he brings it up. I'm sure Gon apologized to Killua when they first saw each other again after all of that, no matter how non-comprehensive that apology may have been.

But, I do think Killua sees his feelings towards Gon as deeper and of a different nature than how he assumes Gon feels towards him. He may even feel a degree of guilt about the extent and nature of his feelings, with an assumption that, as much as Gon cares about him, Gon doesn't reciprocate Killua's romantic feelings. It may be one of many puzzle pieces contributing to the separation.

I think Killua has strong beliefs about Gon not returning his feelings in a romantic sense, which is part of what leads to how much pain he goes through in Chimera Ant Arc and beyond. But these beliefs are less about what Gon does or doesn't do--because *I* believe Gon has romantic feelings for Killua, even though he likely doesn't recognize them as such yet, and obviously in CAA his relationship with Killua is not at the forefront of his mind--but more about how Killua sees himself and how he projects that self-perception on Gon.

The thing is, Killua hasn't directly expressed his feelings (even on a friendship level) towards Gon either. and even hides how much he does for Gon, so Gon also doesn't fully understand the weight and degree of Killua's feelings for him either. He sees what Killua does for him and I'm sure he knows that's a way Killua expresses friendship to him, but at the same time, the reasons or feelings or depth behind those actions remain unspoken, so how is Gon supposed to know fully where Killua is coming from?

As much as he may have some inklings of Killua's feelings from reading his body language and all the time they spent together, it's not something that has been confirmed or stated the way Gon has expressed his feelings. So, it makes sense that these two boys might assume the other doesn't love them back the same way they love each other, because their own self-esteem is so low and they don't see themselves as deserving of the kind of love they have for each other.

So, in response to your question, both yes and no, and "It's complicated," too.

[ladybender]

Jesus oh my god...

Futurama's second episode of this season "Quids Game" was a punch in the guts. In a good way! It goes right on par with episodes like "Cold Warriors" and "Game of Tones": an exploration of Fry's childhood, this time through the lens of mean aliens making him relieve his 8th birthday party games - this time to the death!

I have a lot to say about this episode so buckle up!

Let's start off with some minor complains I have for this one, which are pacing, stakes, and Leela's characterization (in a particular scene).

The episode really flew by so fast, almost at a break-necking pace, and the games felt too short and jam-packed because of that. The emotional weight of the end of each game hits hard because with every one a beloved character dies. There managed to find the time to get the reaction for the major ones (Kif, Leela's parents and grandmother), which is great, but the episode moves so quickly and there is little more time to absorbed it all.

Though, about this issue, I wanna say that I often feel like episodes are either going by too fast or too slow the first time I watch them and it usually doesn't feel the same from a second watch onward. so this is really a minor one that might not even be an problem for me later on, but I thought it was worth mentioning.

moving on to stakes, with this I mean that I originally thought, before the episode aired, that the end goal of the death dame was that the winner would get a prize. A birthday gift for example, and it would have incentivized everyone to go on and even play dirty (which, in retrospect, seems like a really smart thing to put in! compare everyone trying to get an advantage to Fry absolutely refusing to cheat, and pack an even bigger punch with that ending). I suppose playing to survive is motivation enough, but I think it undermines the "wants" of most other characters, and since this was a big coral episode (which is absolutely a strength! I can only imagine how hard it must have been to put together, wow!) I would have loved to see them striving to win, guess what their “birthday wish” would have been, maybe even learn a few of them along the way.

The third iffy thing I want to mention is Leela in the scene in the kitchen. There are seven characters left in the competition and only four baseballs to find to win the round. Leela is panicking trying to find one and she begs fry to cheat and find it for her since he already played when he was a kid and knows the house. Now this conflict was SO good and ALMOST perfect, but whyyyy oh why was Leela so ready to leave Fry behind??? doesn't make sense to me??? I know she was scared and upset bc she had just lost her family and that probably pushed her to act irrationally, but I just can't see her only wanting to keep herself alive and not Fry, especially when an easier and stronger solution is RIGHT THERE.

Have Leela go to Fry already with one of the baseball (that she might have found in some crawled and ridiculous place, to show how desperate she is to win and survive. if you have the wish giving stakes it's even better because you can imagine she'd use her gift to bring her parents back). in the meantime, the other characters find two other balls so there is only one left, and NOW Leela begs Fry to cheat to find the last one and win with her. It's even more emotional, Leela tells him she doesn't want to lose him too but Fry categorically doesn't want to cheat, and in the end tells Leela to win without him, sacrificing himself for her. Bender finds the last ball in the fridge and the episode continues just like we saw (with Bender tossing the ball to someone else right before being pulverized lol. like I said, Bender should be cheating like MAD in these games, really drive home the concept).

I wanna make it clear that these complains don't really turn me off from the whole episode, they are just my free flow of thoughts on stuff that i thought could have been stronger.

But now for the meat. This episode was phenomenal!!! so much good Fry's family characterization and SO much to unpack for Fry as a character. Cody Ziglar has such a spot on take on Fry, it was so validating seeing this episode and putting together all the little pieces of Fry's psyche I’ve picking out for years now, converging into one.

It seems superficial at first glance, but this really runs deeper than it looks. Fry has always been earnest but insecure, proven and proven again in countless episodes. You expect a person goofy and easygoing like Fry to go ham at his birthday and celebrate with all the people he loves, but we find out Fry doesn't like his birthday and feels bad about being put at the center of attention, and it all goes deeper and more upsetting from there.

Adding to all of this and speaking about Fry’s parents, especially his mom, I wanna add that it’s such a realistic conflict it was painful to watch – she wanted to give her son the chance to be a winner, she had no idea how the situation would turn against him. Sometimes a good day of parenting could be the kid’s most terrible experience of his life, and that’s brutal but the parent meant well even if they ruined things for their kid. It’s so sad Fry never got to see how much his mom and dad did for him, and she wanted him to feel like a winner, but this isn’t a story with an easy resolution. It’s bittersweet and it's insane and this last scene ruined me fr, like just look at this what the hell

This exploration of Fry goes hand in hand with everything we know of him. it seamlessly adds another layer of understanding that I’m honestly not even sure I can unpack in a single post, because there is so much to say and draw conclusions from, starting from the very first episode and ending with Meanwhile. From his relationship with his parents and his brother, to his love life and friendships, from his view of himself as a loser to the way he's always striving to better himself while always staying true to himself, trying to achieve his goals the hard way instead of finding an easy way out. Think the why of Fry, Parasite Lost, TKOS, the sting, godfella, my three suns, BBS, cold warriors, and on and on and on. It’s building together a picture of Fry’s character that’s so complex and worth exploring.

With this episode we have a new fundamental facet of him, and for this alone it’s an amazing episode.

I’ll mail my therapy bill to the writers, thank you

And thank you for reading, let me know your thoughts and opinion, I wanna know what y’all thought about this episode

[oct0bra1ns]

Hello again! I really liked my other ask of yours, but I have another one.

How would the brothers individually react to a chronically ill reader? I feel like the Yandere behavior would go up a notch for most of them.

One would use all of his money to get you whatever you need even if he runs broke, he couldn't look after you when you were younger but now he can and he'll be damed if he doesn't do everything he can

He makes sure you have everything you need, he'll hire additional staff for the house, he'll keep doctor nearby the main house so that their available 24/7 and of he hears some bullshit like, "the scans are completely normal, there's no explaining" They're not making it to the next day.

His protectivness goes up way more, he'll not let you go out of the house unless you inform him when and where, with who, for how long etc, he'll keep people in disguise nearby the area in case anything happens and they have to report back to him, every hour.

In case you go missing, one will not let you out of sight for the next month, he'll be besides you 24/7 and it'll take a while before you can regain his trust to go out on your own.

Two, would use his influence to get colleagues to try to find a cure or temporary relief so that you don't have to go through a lot of pain.

Other than that two can't do much, when you were younger he was always the one to take care of you but nowadays he's become busy, of course, if you even ask him for help he won't deny and if he realises just how much you want him besides you, he won't mind taking a day off .

Two tries to make it a habit to unwind with you at the end of the day, taking care of your routine of you're too tired to do it yourself or just want him too.

He'll get you extensions for projects and extra classes if you never need them because all the staff at the college know better than to piss him off.

Two will constantly keep an eye on you through the day, making sure you aren't over exerting yourself and if you ever end up in the nurses office, Two will refuse to let you attend the rest or the day and the next, demanding that you rest.

Three is kind of horrible in dealing with these kinds of things because he wasn't really there to see the worst of it

But he learn, that too probably after seeing you go through it on a day where it was hellish. He isn't perfect at ot, but he's putting in the effort.

Making sure you eat, take your meds, making sure you get adequate rest.

Four being the one person who spent most of his time with you, knows everything you need. He got used to reminding you to take care of your needs, get your medicine if needed etc.

All this, he forced Two to teach him after he saw how much it affected youyou, telling him that he'd always be with you and it would make more sense for him to learn how to take care of you.

All this means he'll isolate you from your friends even more, using your sickness as an excuse to keep you with him at all times.

[val-in-the-underdark]

Grief, Pt. 2

I have a thread on Twitter talking about Astarion's grief that I will bring over here eventually, but it's something I thought of again while trying a new path last night.

I'm halfway through Act 3 with Val and I decided to see what would happen if I didn't take Astarion to Cazador's (I've done this quest like 8 times so I'm just doing separate saves to try things out).

It's a pretty rough path to go because Astarion is understandably upset. You robbed him of his choice to ascend or not, and his story is all about lack of free will (he and his siblings are enslaved after all), among several other things.

But if he doesn't break up with you, he tells you that Cazador held up a lot of space in his life and now he feels empty.

The quote before this is that Astarion thinks he would have felt differently if he had killed Cazador himself, but even if you take him with you, he says he feels numb and empty (said here if you defeat Cazador before dealing with Lorroakan).

Several characters in the game have this in common like Dame Aylin, Lae'zel, Shadowheart, Karlach, and Wyll, who are all in different stages of mourning a loss. Losing a future. Losing family. Losing freedom.

Grief can be a non-linear process and not the same for everyone. The five stages often quoted are never in a straight line like you would think. You might feel angry right away and hold that for so long that you cycle through everything else later.

Astarion is angry for a lot of the game in part because he's grieving; he was young and then enslaved for centuries with nothing to call his own. He has lost everything including his sense of self, something he will have to rebuild over again after the ending of his quest, The Pale Elf. How he does that is up to you, but with Cazador gone, it's no wonder he feels lost after two centuries.

Lastly, and I find this interesting, is the conversation that Tav/Durge can have when about to kill Cazador (again, if you decide not to take Astarion).

I think that all the evidence you encounter in the palace and in the dungeon isn't there to make you feel bad for Cazador (I mean, you could but you'd be a better person than me LOL). The purpose of Vellioth's lessons and this particular dialogue, etc. is to foreshadow Astarion's potential transformation into the Vampire Ascendant.

Ascended Astarion is a new kind of vampire, yes, but he's still a full vampire. He's not 100% outside of the mentality that full vampires have. For instance, when he first tells you about Cazador in Act 1, he says that vampires are scheming and power-hungry beasts.

This is evidenced by things you find in Cazador's Palace including the fact that he was hosting a final "feast" before the ascension ritual where he was gathering information (pretty sure this person said they worked at the Counting House).

Ascended Astarion is doing something similar in the epilogue when he tells you to bring any secrets right back to him - he's scheming and biding his time just like Cazador.

While we don't know exactly is going through Astarion's mind when he ascends, I sometimes wonder if there is a layer of him trapped like Cazador. I've argued in another thread that I don't think Ascended Astarion will fully deal with his past the way Spawn Astarion has to in order to move on, but maybe I'll re-post that or revise that for another time.

Anyway, while this path is interesting for lore reasons if you really love Astarion, it does feel hollow and anti-climatic because there's a lot of emotional payoff in the final confrontation.

[sorcerous-caress]

May I politely request how Isobel & Alyin that have to deal with a partner that keeps overworking themself.

Isobel & Dame Aylin dealing with an overworked partner

[ fluff, poly, nb!reader ]

Isobel would try to approach it in a more subtle way, gentle coaxing and reminders that the work will always be there in the morning. To come to bed and join your beloveds instead of over exerting yourself.

She can relate in a way, having stayed up countless nights in prayers to sustain the bubble of a safe haven back in the shadowlands. There wasn't even a second spared to herself during those times.

Which is why she is the more determined to get you to rest, she was in a war while you're willfully choosing this.

Patience is a virtue, she tells you.

Dame Aylin takes a more direct approach.

By direct it means she will literally pick you up and takes you to bed.

You can try to argue and plead with her about how important you work is all you want, it's akin to arguing to a stone wall after she's noticed the dark circles under your eyes.

You discover very quickly how stubborn aasimars are.

At the end of the day, both of them are just concerned for you and your wellbeing.

Life is priceless, Dame Aylin was forced to come to terms with the fragility of a mortal's life back when she lost Isobel before.

And you'd really pay with your own life? Trade your health for a few extra hours of work that might have cut days from your lifespan.

The thought is too grim for Dame Aylin to bare. How careless mortals can be with their lives.

You're something precious, someone who should be treasured. You deserve rest, food and love like any other person.

Even if it becomes too unbearable at times, the thought of leaving something unfinished or having a work unfulfilled. It's very hard for mortals to come to terms with their own imperfections.

That's why they'll be there for you to help you step back, to see the whole picture of life instead of focusing on the small flaws.

[willothewispwisteriadawn]

Bunny’s Moral Crisis and Julian being Anti Judeo-Christian

I was positive I got the impression, during my first read of TSH, that Bunny was truly morally bothered by the farmer-killing. Then I started wondering, post-reading, if I was being too generous, and Bunny legit was just worried for his life and was angry that the group was keeping secrets from him (that second one is what Henry told Richard).

But I got to the part in my on-and-off listening to the audiobook where Julian tells Richard he’s wondering what’s going on with Bunny. Julian says Bunny keeps approaching him and asking to talk about morality (particularly sin and forgiveness). Julian says he’s getting concerned that Bunny may convert to Marion’s religion. He asks Richard what denomination she is, and Richard says he thinks she’s Presbyterian. Julian is disappointed and says the only Christian denomination he can gracefully accept losing a student to is Roman Catholic.

Now this scene is interesting to me for a couple reasons. Firstly, it does indicate there may be more going on with Bunny internally than the Greek class gives him credit for. If Bunny is trying to approach Julian privately to talk about ethical dilemmas, this shows some level of genuineness in his questions (Julian also believes it to be earnest questioning). But secondly, Julian’s comment about only finding the Roman rite to be a worthy foe is so, so interesting to me.

The scene shows that something more is going on with Bunny, but it also reveals that Julian hates Judaism and Christianity— making exceptions for people like Dante and Giotto. The thing that’s fascinating to me about this detail is that Julian’s statements show the central theme of the whole book: that beauty is worth something if it’s backed by things of substance (Georges Laforgue says this, and the same thing is said by Theo in The Goldfinch. This is a concept important to Tartt’s writing).

Julian has a basic respect for Catholics, because Catholicism traditionally also has emphasis on art, philosophy, and classical aesthetic beauty. And, perhaps most importantly, Roman Catholics have kept Latin as the language of the Church and Vatican. The medieval Catholic Church was perhaps the biggest patron and commissioner of artists, and from the Catholic Church came Notre Dame, Aquinas, Dante, etc. Here, Julian mentions that the Catholics make “worthy foes” for the pagans, and what he means is that there’s all this aesthetic beauty and classical study within the Catholic Church. But it’s key here that Julian hates other branches of Christianity. The scene emphasizes that the only thing he enjoys about Catholics is their specifically classical history.

The thing I like about this detail is that it is a really specific bit of characterization to show that Julian does not care about morality or the search for truth that’s at the heart of all religions and mythologies. He’s different from people like Aquinas because he does not see human art and language as a means to articulate and pay homage one’s moral beliefs. He sees art/language as the highest good in and of itself. Once you remove the classics aspects of Catholicism, Julian does not care. And we see this because of his apparent disdain for Protestants and Jews. This also reminds me of Bunny saying Henry thinks Jamaicans have no culture. Obviously, they do, but it’s not the particular kind of culture and expression Julian and Henry find legitimate.

I guess I like how Donna Tartt understands her own theme and can show how it’s applicable so naturally just in the way her characters talk. We get a lot of hints about how closed-minded and shallow Julian actually is before we get to the end of the book where it’s confirmed.

[that-starry-freak]

Okay, wow, uhm-

This is my rant about Eclipse x Solar x Nexus i keep saying ill do. Sooo- yeah. If you don't like it, just scroll. Or block me i don't give a shit- im just ranting about what I like *shrug* (btw this is 95% for/about my tol au, so-)

Cw i do mention abuse a few times, because of Solar's Moon, dark sun, etc.

God i love these three so much. There's just so much potential, both angst and fluff (and a bit of smut but that stays in my head that is NOT going on my blog)

Like Solar and Nexus are both such needs and idiots. They both stay up late working, and insist the other one goes to bed (Eclipse ends up having to drag them both to bed).

They love working on projects together. People arnt usually allowed int he workshop when their working together, because if they have each other they don't need anyone else to help or anything- but they let Eclipse in once, and he got to see how they danced around each other and worked together perfectly.

They're all nerds who love science and mechanics tbh, but they all like it in different ways. Solar likes the hard work, the mindlessly fixing things. He liked the manual labour, the more mechanics of it. Nexus loved the science. He loves asking questions and learning knew things. He loves questioning things and people. He likes building and creating and testing out code. Eclipse likes the results. He doesn't particularly enjoy coding and building, it makes him frustrated, but he loves the results. He likes having a job well done. And getting to enjoy whatever the product is, whether its a computer or a basic machine.

Eclipse and Nexus can also understand each other. They can understand the expectation of who you're supposed to be. To be a remake of someone dead, but not really being them. Yet everyone expects you too. They've spent long nights sharing a smoke and ranting about how unfair it is. About how they weren't v1 Eclipse, or Moon. That they were themselves, and it wasn't fair people pressured them into being their predecessors.

Solar and Eclipse can understand what its like to be an eclipse. To come into this world with Moons hating you. To be called vile, to have a Moon laugh in your face. They may not have always liked each other, but they understand each other, its one of the reasons they became close.

Nexus can also help them both heal from their trauma of Moons. Plus, he isn't really Moon. Sure, he is a moon, coming from he dame basic code. But he isn't an old Moon. He's kinder, he doesn't blow up as easily. Its reassuring to them both, being treated so kindly to someone who pretty much abused them both (Eclipse didn't deserve how Old moon treated him when he came into this world.)

Eclipse and Nexus also know what its like to be left behind. Eclispe knows what its like to be left behind by Moon, to be a piece of code that he doesn't care about. Nexus knows what its like to hurt people and lose them. Yes, its different, but that doesn't mean they can't empathize with each others pain, because it is similar in a way.

solar and Nexus can understand each other's pain of losing someone you care about deeply. Of blaming yourself for their death. Of course. They dealt with it much differently, but still-

Eclipse and Solar both knowing what its like to die, comforting each other, reassuring them that they're still here. That they're alive. That they're them.

Enough about what they have in common tho-

like oh my goddd. I have so many thoughts bro-

Eclipse smells like cigarettes and leather and faintly of the vanilla candles Puppet lights in their apartment. Solar smells like grease and oil and sometimes chemicals when he cleans himself off (and then is forced to take an actual shower by Eclipse because cleaning yourself with harsh chemicals every time cant be good for your casing). Nexus smells like lavender (because thats the scent of the detegerant Sun always washes their clothes with) and faintly of bleach (consequences of living in the same house as Sun) and grease a lot after he's been working. The other twos smells are comforting to all three of them, reminding them that they're safe and content. Nexus eccpecially loves wearing Solar's clothes, and loves being in his arms, reminding him that he's alive. Thats he's right here. That everything is going to be okay.

And oh my god don't get me started on the forbidden love. The fact that Eclipse and Solar can't be in the same dimension till Eclispe gets a new dimensional signal. Solar and Nexus both crushing on Eclipse, but Nexus is the only one that can actually see them both, having to pass messages between the two. Of course they do eventually get to see each other again, but for so long they won't be able to. Its just.. sad

And AUGH im always going to be insane over rmy true loves kiss idea. The idea of Solar kissing Nexus out of desperation, because nothing he says can get through to him and ohmygod he's panicking- and somehow the virus he has just disappearing. The kiss curing Nexus, and bringing him back to his senses. And oh my god, the chaos and angst that follows. Nexus sobbing becuase of what he's done, feeling so guilty. The family not wanting to accept him back, Moon being the worst one-

Solar and Eclipse being the first ones to accept him. Later being Sun, Earth, and then Lunar. Maybe one day Moon, but thats a day far in the future.

And auggh, Solar and Moon's friendship. Moon hating his boyfriends but midly tolerating them for Solar's sake. Solar aclimating him to Eclipses, and he starts tolerating him a bit more. Hearing him say so many good things about Nexus makes him hate him more, though, insecure about Nexus being back in the family. Afraid of being replace.

Sleaking of being replaced, Nexus feeling like he's replaceable. That he's disposable. That one wrong move and he'll be thrown out again. Solar reassuring him that even if he is hell go with him. That he refuses to let Nexus be completley abandoned and manipulated again.

And god, all three of them have such communication, trust, and attachment issues-

Solar feels like he has to be useful to be loved. That he has to prove himself. That he could also be thrown out of the family because he's not from this dimension. He's afraid of being a burden. He's afraid that if he complains he'll be seen as a nuisance. That he doesn't deserve help or to get anything, that he barely deserves the celestial family as it is even if he does so much for them.

Nexus also feels like he has to be useful. That if he isn't, what is he for? What was his purpose if he can't help? He compares himself to Moon a lot, feeling like he has to match up to his standards, even if they're impossible. Moon has years and years of experience on him- he also struggles to talk about his own feelings. He bottled them up so much because he felt like they were stupid that he just doesn't know how to talk about them. The only time he can is in the middle of the night, and is usually with Eclipse. Solar will try to comfort him and almost baby him when he tries to rant to him, Eclipse will just complain and rant right back though, and he prefers it.

Eclipse didn't really ever have any healthy relationships. He's used to pushing people away and bottling all his feelings up. To lashing out at people. Yes, this version is much calmer, but he still has the memories of the ones before him. Hes still used to that being what Eclipses in this dimension did. He doesn't know how to talk to people. Earth helped him open up though, and Solar and Nexus helped him more. He's a lot calmer now, and it helps that they both enjoy listening to him rant. Solar will listen to him and gives advice, while Nexus will just complain with him in the middle of the night. He loves both, though it depends on the situation for what he wants to do.

Their relationship isn't perfect, though. Nexus will still sometimes yell and freak Solar out, and he has to frantically apologize while Eclipse calms him down. Eclispe sometimes will push them away, and will sometimes use their insecurities and trauma against them when hes frustrated eith them. Solar refuses to talk about his own issues, and it worried the other two to no end. Nexus sometimes will hit himself or bite himself to the point of denting his casing when he's frustrated or having a breakdown, not wanting to lash out at anyone, and this worries the other two so much but there's nothing they can really do to stop it, just comforting Nexus the best they can and restraining him when they see him doing it. Eclipse will be rude to Nexus, treating him like Moon, and they'll get into fights about it that they both always regret later.

The hallucinations Nexus suffers from also doesn't end. He still sees Solar telling him he isn't proud of him. He sometimes gets vivid hallucinations that Solar is still dead.

They also all suffer from horrific nightmares

Solar dreaming that he's still in his original dimension. That he's still being abused by his Moon. That he still has no one to love him. He has nightmares that he's still dead, that Nexus never got better. He has nightmares that he ends up like Eclipse, that he hurts people. He has nightmares that the family shuns him and kicks him out. He has nightmares that old moon shows up at his dimension again and he can't stop him this time, and he hurts him and everyone he loves.

Nexus dreaming of Solar still dead. Nexus having nightmares that he actually killed his family. He has nightmares that he's still under Dark Sun's control. He has nightmares that he never was saved from space. He has nightmares of Eclipse betraying and killing him, never having truly gone good. He has nightmares that the family kicks him out for not living up to their expectation, for not being good as moon.

Eclipse dreaming of Moon. Nightmares of Bloodmoon torturing him, of Moon hurting him, of Lunar killing him again. Nightmares of him betraying everyone, even though that's the last thing he wants to do. Nightmare of Earth hating him, of Solar an Nexus hating him.

They often have to comfort each other from these night terrors, holding them close as cooing to the and rocking them.

Solar panics and sobs when he wakes up from one, but refuses to talk about it. He shuts down once when calms down, and often gets up in the middle of the night after to mindlessly do work to get his mind off of it.

Nexus wakes up screaming and crying and often hallucinating. He ususally has to be restrained so he doesn't accidentally hurthimself. He always feels bad about it after, and just wants to cuddle and feel loved, reminding himself that his partners are here and they're real.

Eclipse wakes up in a cold sweat, quiet. Hell just sit there for awhile, before getting up to take a cold shower to clear his mind.

they all overwork themselves, Solar and Nexus eccpecially-

solar because he needs to feel useful. Also because working helps him not think, it helps him "relax", even if it stresses him out more.

Nexus because he'll get so caught up in what he's doing. He'll start working at like noon and he'll zone out and suddenly its midnight and Eclipse and Solar are coming down to drag him away from his lab. Or Sun, sometimes sun has to come after him.

They're just so sad and gay and such a polycule i love them <3

Im so normal about them, clearly (im sorry this is too long im not going to go through this and edit rn- there probaly really a lot of grammar errors and typing errors and spelling errors but im tired soo-)

[gay-dorito-dust]

This just popped into my head. please can i request headcandons of miles, Hobie, Pavitr (separately) and the reader wearing matching shirts like cute couples

Miles would probably either have those goofy couple shirts that you guys got as a joke but you now wear unironically. Ie: don’t go bacon my heart/ I couldn’t if I fried. (This is purely cuz I love shitty puns)

Or couple shirts where they have a matching small heart embroidered somewhere on the pocket of the shirt/hoodie.

Nothing overly drastic about your relationship, just small, minuscule things that you could incorporate in your every day wears. Kinda like this:

Miles is just an awkward dude who’s trying his best to show you how much he love you, and it definitely shows which never fails in making you smile because he does it so effortlessly that pretty sure he doesn’t know it.

Would he get playfully teased by his mates? Yeah, probably but does he care? Not fucking really because he loved the fact that you were matching in subtle ways. It’s just the way you like them because not everyone needs to know but they do due to how painfully obvious Miles was being.

so much so that it doesn’t take much for anyone to assume that you were together, with or without the matching shirts. They only add to what was already crystal clear to everyone.

Your love with Miles is goofy, clumsy as a newborn deer, subtle, sweet, caring, warm, protective and above all; loyal.

Pavitr is a grade a sucker for matching couple shirts that he probably buys them in bulk, so you’d have new ones to wear throughout the entire week.

One day it’ll be the cheesy ‘my head belongs to him/ my heart belongs to her/him/ them’ couple shirts and then the next day it’ll be the ‘I love’ shirts that he defiantly got personalised to add your names in conjunction to the phrase.

He’s also the type of couple shirts where you have to be stood together for the wording on it to make coherent sense to anyone wanting to read it.

Pavitr also has the couple shirts where they point to one another and say shit like ‘born to love her/him/them’ on it because he always tells you on a daily basis that the moment he met you, he felt as though he was born to love you.

He’s just got so much love for you and wants to show it in any way possible, not caring if it earns you the title of sappiest couple or most loved up couple because in all fairness, what they say was a hundred percent true. Pavitr is a sappy and loved up boy but that was because of you and he hoped that you felt the same towards him.

You do, stop denying it.

Pavitr is unashamed in wearing matching shirts with you. He takes great pride in it and I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s got a fuck ton of pictures of you two doing cute couple shit in your matching couple T-shirts. One might’ve been made into his home/Lock Screen by the end of the day, but is subjective to change because he loved all of them equally and can’t choose between them.

Hobie isn’t the fondest of couple shirts, he probably finds them ridiculous and cringe inducing but if he were to wear to one, he’d probably only wear it as a pyjama set where less eyes can see.

This ain’t in due to any insecurity he might have because Hobie was the definition of what confident in your own skin looked like, he just doesn’t understand why you needed shirts to proclaim your love when he does that already by draping all his limbs over you, publicly kissing you, touching you and the like.

So he’d like to think he’s making it pretty loud and clear that you two were something to one another that transcends the need for labels but again he ain’t against verbally calling you his.

Even then the shirts you’d have would either be a little on the vulgar side because Hobie thought it funny or shirts that are like ‘I don’t do matching shirts’/ ‘but I do.’ Kind of thing.

An example of the aforementioned couple shirt:

However that don’t mean Hobie doesn’t like being called yours -constancy be damed- he’d just prefer it if it wasn’t so blatantly and unabashedly spread out across a marketable t-shirt that anyone can get and that provides no sentimental meaning for either of you.

Now let’s say you’re a wizard on a sewing machine and all things textiles and had made you both a matching couples t-shirt then that’s a completely different case entirely.

For those shirts held sentimental value because you were the one to go out of your way and make them for the both of you and who’s Hobie to reject the change of wearing something you made with your bare hands?

He’d wear it for you and he’d wear the shit out of it because he’s proud of everything you do and would be damned if he let you think otherwise.

A/n: now me, personally. I can not stand matching couple shirts…it rubs me the wrong way. Sure some are cute but you’d never catch me in one. Ever. I respect myself too much. Also I was probably projecting myself onto Hobie just a little.

[misc-obeyme]

I know most people of the fandom view and interpret Lucifer as some kind of sadistic ultra alfa male dom (1 of the things is true), but i swear to God if u say the minimal praise or show the tiny bit of affection to that man he will break apart!!!! That guy blushes hard and cries for affection!!! Such a loser!!! (I love him)

-🍵

NSFW MDNI (nothing explicit, but putting this because of the discussion of dom/sub dynamics)

Okay is the 1 thing that's true "male?" Because we've all seen dame Lucifer, right?? LOL!

Anyway, I have seen some discussion about this and I have to say it's really interesting to me and my personal relationship with Lucifer as a character.

Because initially, I was just like everybody else. In Season One of the OG, I read Lucifer as a sadistic ultra alpha male dom, absolutely. I was like yup this guy is super dom like wow. And I was into that for a little while, but then it got annoying. So I went from liking him to disliking him quite a bit.

Then as the seasons progressed, I realized that it's all an act.

Lucifer wants everyone to think he's some sadistic dom type. And to that end, I think he would take on that role for an MC who was into it. (Technically I think he's a switch.)

But the reality is that Lucifer wants to be a sub so bad. Underneath that stoic strict facade, you've got one overtired guy who would lose his whole mind if someone else took control of him for once.

You could go with the soft praise route and I think he'd melt. Exactly like you said, he'd break apart and blush like crazy. BUT only with someone he trusts. Someone he can let see the truth beneath that exterior he always puts up. He worries too much about his reputation to be careless about it. So this is something I think only MC (and maybe Diavolo) could successfully pull out of him.

I also think you could go hardcore with it and he'd be into that, too.

I mean, imagine being Lucifer. Imagine being one of the most powerful demons in the Devildom. Imagine having the reputation that he has, knowing that he could snap his fingers and obliterate everything if he really wanted to. Imagine being dangerous in a quiet and authoritative way. Imagine keeping other super powerful demons in line with only a few words. Imagine having to keep that up at all costs all the time. Imagine working so hard for so long to maintain that image.

And then imagine someone comes along with whom you can be who you really are. Someone with whom you can let your guard down. Someone you can finally be completely and totally honest with. Someone you trust.

Oh yes. I think Lucifer wants nothing more than to submit to the one he loves the most. And it's because he loves them that he's not only willing to, he craves it.

Well, anyway, I got a little carried away, but that's my opinion on it!

Also I just love thinking about the reaction Lucifer would have if MC called him a good boy. 😊

[safarigirlsp]

I was so excited to see the ask game going around. I hope it perks up around here again 💛

Do you any HCs to share for Flip, Kylo, Jacques, and Mills??

🍔

🍕

Hello!! Thank you for sending this in! Today feels like the good old days with this dumpster fire hopping and the bs flying! I love it!!

🍕What's your favorite comment you've received on a fic?

Omg @iamburdened absolutely kills me with her comments. I have re read them 100 times and I smile like a lunatic every time. She's so dark and hilarious and I love her!

Here is just one example of her awesomeness on my fic Sinners Welcome!

@vedavan leaves some of the most involved and thoughtful and incredible comments I've ever received and I am so beyond floored at the amount of thought she gives. I am so thankful for her encouragement and support!

This comment on Here There Be Monsters made me swoon

Ahhhh!! Your stories are always such a thrill, a joyride from beginning to end, and this one was no exception. I loved every word, and your gift for action scenes and gorgeous descriptions shone so brightly here. I loved all the side characters too: from the colorful ragtag assortment of pirates and whores, to Legris' trusted crew and of course the legendary Pierre; the elegantly villainous Talvington and the mysterious, bewitching Grey Lady. Even the ship herself, the Belle Dame, was a character in and of herself. And of course as always I appreciate Carroughes disgusting appearance and his inevitable demise. Your obvious love and passion for the subject matter and for the characters (no one writes a better, hotter, more delicious male MC than your Legris 🔥🔥🥵) made this such a joy to read, and I was almost sad when it ended. Action, romance, drama... your stories have it all and I'm completely addicted. Perfection! ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

@reveluving inspires me to write more insanity by her support and beautiful comments on my stories!

This is so hard actually, but I have to shout out to my favorite people here and the most supportive and amazing people I know who always spur me to keep churning out my bs and do more!

You, of course! @queeniebee and all the other friends I have here who instantly come to mind when I think of support and wonderful people! @babbushka @lumberjack00fantasies Silky!! @gabesprincess @mrs-gucci @rynwritesstuff @mythrielofsolitude @reylokisses @queen-of-elves @srorgana1 @kyloremus

🍔What's a headcanon that hasn't made it into a published fic yet?

Kylo knew you were the one when he found he could fight with you and argue without losing his temper. He has a famously hot temper. He's a notoriously violent man. But of course, he could never hurt his girl. That doesn't mean that he wouldn't lose his temper with her, or so he thought. He thought it would be a challenge, that he would feel his blood pressure rise and his teeth grind when you angered him, because naturally you're going to. It can be a little thrilling to push his buttons. But he never has lost his tempter with you, despite your best efforts. He gets hot and bothered in other ways, ways he channels to improve both your moods.

It's true what they say, that Beauty tamed the Beast.

No one can debate that Jacques has a winning personality. He's fun, lively, exudes charm and charisma, and has no hesitation putting on a grand show for his girl. However, like so many highly charismatic people, his charm was hard-earned and developed for survival. A self-made man, he had no name or fortune and had to claw his way up the food chain until he became a man of power. He remembers going dirty and hungry and cold, sleeping on the ground, awaking to a muscles that ached from cold and a growling stomach that couldn't be sated. Charisma was another skill he learned along the way to survive. Just as necessary to gain power and fortune as being able to fight, red in tooth and claw, was the ability to mingle, to befriend, to charm to amuse. He had to make himself useful in all ways to his betters until he outstripped them all.

With you, he finds that he doesn't need to act at all and that it's all natural and second nature. It makes him swell with pride when he puts a smile on your lips. He realized you were the one when he realized that making you happy made him happier, giving you pleasure made his heart soar. He will also ensure his girl, his family, will never know the feeling going hungry or cold, nor of being shunned and kicked aside. His table will always be bountiful and his arms always warm and loving for his woman. When he smiles for you, when he laughs and entertains, its genuine and it makes him love you more.

Flip was raised outdoors and helping on his family's ranch, breaking horses, branding calves, cutting timber, chopping ice, hauling hay. All the things his size and rambunctious temper were good for.

His upbringing made him a die hard western movie fan. Clint Eastwood is his favorite with John Wayne a close runner up and he's watched their entire filmography at least five times over with his dad. He's ensured his girl has seen all of his favorites and plenty of others too. True Grit, The Outlaw Josey Wales, El Dorado, Unforgiven, to name a few.

Westerns are his favorite movie genre. However, he is also quite a bit of an ornery jackass. As such, his favorite genre to watch with you is horror. He loves setting the stage, making sure the house is nice and dim, the temperature a little cool, a fire crackling in the fireplace. The ambience is perfect for a movie night in, and all strategically geared to make you want to get nice and close to him, against his chest and inside his arms. He will tease you mercilessly and goose you during the jumpy parts. Then he will laugh - bray- like the jackass he is. He deals with killers and criminals in real life. Horror movies don't phase him. Some big ungainly bastard with half his vision obscured by a mask, coming at him swinging a chainsaw that's telegraphed a mile away is hardly a challenge. Flip would have fun taking your average slasher out in spectacularly ballsy fashion. Flip loves horror movies and chill. He chills while you get chills.

Mills is tenacious and hard working in all ways. He will go the extra mile and work harder and longer than anyone. Complaints aren't part of his vocabulary and he never shies from any quantity of blood, sweat, and tears it takes to see anything through once he sets his mind to it. He's determined to the point of self destruction and will push himself far past the bounds of comfort and even good sense.

The area in which he's happy to put in the effort and diligence is for his girl. Once he sets his sights on her, nothing will deter him. He will tilt windmills and make every overture, simple and grand, to win her heart. As a lovesick teenager who didn't know a damn thing about girls, this took the shape of embarrassing acts like clumsily strumming a guitar and singing off key below his intended's window at odd hours of the night until angry fathers ran him off. He considered it a badge of honor when one particularly enraged father took a shot at his feet with a .12 gauge.

Thankfully, he has learned a thing or two and now applies his tenacious enthusiasm in better ways. He will cook for you and rub your shoulders until his hands ache. He will bring you flowers and take you out for a picnic that entails a ride in his bush plane out to a mountain lake to spare you the hike. He will carry you to bed when you're tired and hold you all night. He considers it a personal failure when he doesn't make you cum before him, and is dauntless when it comes to making you moan and sigh. He is the ultimate Golden Retriever Boyfriend. He will work every day to make you smile and never let the new wear off.

[bigfatlesbian]

Does Dame Aylin have mommy issues? An essay nobody asked for

Disclaimer: This is not what I 100% believe to be canon but rather a train of thought I've been having for some time now so I decided to share. Feel free to disagree or add to it. (Yes, part of it might as well be me projecting, lol).

And of course: spoiler warning for both the act 2 and act 3 nightsong quest.

So, Aasimars usually have a celestial ancestor a few generations removed. Even with faint divine heritage they function as champions of the gods (which we see with Aylin as well).

Now, Aylin's divine heritage is much more recent with her being a direct descendant of Selune. This suggests greater involvement from Selune as opposed to the 'usual' Aasimar family dynamic (which is most often laced with expectations of greatness anyway).

We don't know anything about Aylin's mortal parent so this is just me assuming but considering she's been 'blessed' with immortality along with everything her life's purpose is obvious: being Selune's sword.

So she would have to have been raised as exactly that. And for a long time (maybe even centuries bc afaik she doesn't have a canon age), she was very content in being just that, a weapon. She obviously enjoys fighting, especially for what she believes is right (and she obviously believes in her mother's cause).

Considering Selune is a very responsive and involved deity there's no way she has time to be an actual mother figure in Aylin's life. Especially with her war against Shar, I would assume there's more of a general/sovereign relationship going on.

My headcanon is that she's only ever learned how to interact with mortals by playing the role of the demigod (which is why her dialogue with Tav is so stiff and 'knightly'). That only ever changed for Isobel because Isobel actually sees the person and not just the legend or the idea. In turn, Isobel shows her that she's not just divine but has mortal blood running through her as well.

Now, assuming she was content in her role as sword before, meeting Isobel might have put some cracks into that as Aylin learns that she can connect with mortals instead of just being a beacon of her mother's religion.

So then Isobel dies and with her Aylin's newfound identity as something more than just a divine pawn. She has a century of being killed over and over again to realize what her mother is using her for.

While gods aren't supposed to meddle in mortal affairs, surely (an actually motherly) Selune would've led clerics/ other adventurers to the Nightsong in an attempt to free her daughter. As far as we know that never happened. Now that could be due to Shar's influence and the shadow curse, but Aylin wasn't exactly aware of what was happening on the surface during her time in the Shadowfell so I imagine her faith must've faltered somewhat. All that time in the soulcage, being killed and resurrected over and over again must've changed her outlook on her immortality (if seeing Isobel die hadn't done that already). Where everyone sees a gift/blessing from Selune Aylin knows what it really is: a tool to make her a means to an end and in turn (for her as an individual) a curse.

So while I can get behind the theories of her breaking her oath by killing Lorroakan without due cause, I think what she truly lost might've been her undying belief in Selune and Selune's cause. She's realized that all people see when they look at her is her immortality and her servitude to her mother. And while she still wants to serve her mother because her core beliefs still align with Selune's teachings, she might also want a little more. She might want to actually have a life for herself, especially one with an end. So in the end she might get a little more selfish and a little less perfect and I think that's beautiful.

TLDR:

What if your mom was a god and you felt indebted to her? And what if she still let you suffer through a century of pure hell?

Or: I believe Aylin has a ton of potential for character growth that goes beyond her being the standard Mary Sue DMPC some people on Steam/Reddit make her out to be and Isobel is the catalyst for it. (Bc she's exactly what Aylin has always needed, we're romantic lesbians in this household, ok?)

[bg-brainrot]

Day 8 of the BG3 Holiday Challenge with some found family <3

Prompt: Chosen Family

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Premise: You don’t have any family left in Baldur’s Gate, so when it comes time to celebrate Midwinter, you invite the family you do have: all of your old companions that can make it. Shadowheart, Gale, Halsin, and a few others join you for a meal and gift exchange. 

Tags: POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Holidays, post-canon, chosen family, extended family of ragtag adventurers, even volo is included

Word count: ~1.4k

“My dear, I’m afraid that staring at the clock won’t make our guests arrive any faster.” You turn to see Astarion standing at the doorway to your drawing room, holding a stack of letters. He’s dressed impeccably in his holiday best, even sporting a small red poinsettia in his lapel. Initially, he’d resisted the festive addition, but you reminded him that, while mild, a poinsettia is poisonous. Not a moment later the flower had found its way into his outfit.

You’re also adorned festively, a bright branch of holly weaved into your belt. Dressed to impress and ready to party for the Midwinter celebration, all that’s left are your guests– which aren’t due for another ten minutes. You sigh at Astarion’s words, knowing that he’s right. “How else am I supposed to spend the time?”

Astarion walks over to your seat on the coach and hands you half of the stack of letters. “Well, I figured this might be a fantastic opportunity to make sure we had an accurate headcount. In case we need to ask Gale to conjure any chairs.”

You take the letters gratefully and pat the seat next to you. He sits and you begin to sort through the papers. “Good idea, let’s see…” The first letter is from Alfira. It’s a lovely little letter, thanking you for the invitation, detailing her Midwinter plans with Lakrissa, and ending with a short little poem for the holiday. “Alfira already had plans.”

“Oh good,” Astarion says with a small clap. “I don’t think my poor ears could take yet another rendition of the Twelve Days of Midwinter.” He waves the letter in his hand as he follows up with, “Rolan also already had plans, something about Cal and Lia wanting to travel for the holiday.”

“Maybe we should have done that,” you say to Astarion, filled with more dread at hosting a party for your closest friends than you’ve had fighting any monster.

He knows you don’t really mean it, but agrees anyway. “We still have time to escape! I hear the feywild has some lovely weather.”

“How would we get to the feywild?” you ask, taking a look at the next letter in your stack.

“I don’t know, we’d figure it out,” he responds, before rolling his eyes at the letter he’s holding. “Why did you even invite Volo?”

You shrug, honestly unsure what compelled you. “He seems lonely, I guess?”

“Well, he’s still a yes,” Astarion says, grimacing.

“Good, I suppose.” You wave the letter in your hand at him, before adding, “Dame Aylin and Isobel can’t make it. Something about seeing Midwinter's arrival in each others’ arms.”

“But of course. We could have done the same, you know.” 

Your love gives you a suggestive look, which you smack with your next letter. “Stop tempting me! I know we can do this, and apparently the guests we do have are looking forward to it. Remember, Gale’s immediate yes? He’s even bringing Tara.”

“Do you suppose she requires her own chair?” Astarion asks, tapping his chin with what could only be Shadowheart’s letter, its writing neat and flowing.

“I think I already took her into account for chairs.” You’re positive you had, lest you offend the great Tara. “Is that Shadowheart’s response? Did she send an update?”

Astarion looks down at the letter, as if he'd forgotten that he was holding it. “Let's see. It says, ‘Don't worry, I'm still able to make it. Is it alright if I bring the owlbear? I wasn't able to find someone to watch him.'"

You stare at Astarion who only stares back. You break the silence to ask the question on both of your minds, "Where will we put him?"

"Perhaps Gale can shrink him for the night?"

"Good idea," you say with a nod and move on to the next letter in your stack. It's a short missive from Dammon. An appreciative message, though he already has Midwinter plans as well. “Dammon was a no.”

Your love smirks, giving you a knowing look. “Likely because Karlach couldn’t make it. Still can’t make it I take it?”

“Karlach and Wyll gratefully declined,” you say, holding up their letter. It’s been written quickly, has some scorched edges, and smells deeply of sulfur– truly no mystery as to why they couldn’t make it. “But Halsin said he would be here.”

"Someone, who I think is Withers, just sent back 'no'. Hmm." Astarion looks at the small piece of parchment containing the singular word and holds it up to you. “Why did you invite Withers? Scratch that, how did you invite Withers?”

You simply raise a shoulder in a noncommittal shrug and say, “It felt rude not to invite him.”

He looks at you for a second, as if pondering whether or not it’s worth digging into the ‘how’ when a knock sounds at the door. “Oh, I suppose our first guest has arrived. Would you like to wager on who it might be?”

“Why bother,” you say with a snort, setting aside the rest of the stack and heading to the door. “We both know it’s Gale.”

Astarion laughs at your confident proclamation, and laughs even harder when you open the door to a smiling wizard, dressed in what can only be considered a holiday robe, lit up with faerie lights. Tara stands next to him, proudly wearing a red ribbon.

“Welcome! Come in, come in,” you say, waving him into your house. Once they’ve entered, you give Gale a hearty hug and Tara a small bow, which she seems to appreciate. After you take his coat and they settle in, Astarion serves them both a drink, a wine for Gale, a bowl of broth for Tara.

You spend some time talking and catching up until your next guests arrive with a soft knock. 

At the door is Shadowheart, wearing a markedly less ostentatious holiday outfit, a simple green sweater with silver pants, followed closely by a large owlbear. After a quick bit of magic from Gale, they both make their way inside to warm hugs and their own drinks. 

They’re just about sitting down when another knock comes.

The night continues in much the same fashion as Halsin arrives, then Volo, then Jaheira with several of her children in tow. Then, just when you think no one else will arrive, Minsc shows up with Boo wearing a single jolly bell.

The entire group settles in for drinks, food, and merriment, discussing all that they’ve been up to since you’ve last gotten together. The company is lively, the atmosphere warm, and you’re immensely satisfied with the outcome of your efforts as you finally take a seat next to Astarion. You begin to wonder why you were worried about hosting this at all.

Ahead of the party, you hadn’t received a response from Lae’zel. She was likely too busy in the Astral Plane to respond, so you tried not to think too much of it. However, partway through the night you receive a message from her through a Sending spell: “This is Lae’zel. Apologies, I’m indisposed. I’ve been informed Midwinter is a celebration, so consider this my celebratory message.”

You laugh and send your own message back, “Thank you, Lae’zel. Hope to see you for the next one!”

Astarion smiles at you once you relay the message to the group, squeezing your hand in his. He knew you’d been worried about her despite it all, and knowing that she, too, was alive and safe would finally set your mind at ease. And it did– like something that was missing finally clicked into place and you could just breathe.

You knew that not everyone would be able to make it, and you’re still not confident in your hosting abilities, but somehow, you’re still so very content. Something about sitting in a room with your love, your closest friends, and even Volo, fills you with so much hope for the upcoming spring.

When the group lifts their glasses to cheer for all that you’ve accomplished this year, the trials and tribulations you’ve overcome together, you can’t help but add, “And to the family we’ve made along the way. May we always find our way back to one another!”

The night passes in a haze of joy and love– somehow, by the end of it, you've agreed to host again next year. You can feel Astarion's amusement as he chuckles and holds you close.

[amysgiantbees]

I find it very frustrating that Wyll and Karlach leave no matter what if you side with the goblins. Which feels particularly fucked up that the non-white and non-white coded origin characters are the only two who get this content cut off from them. Gale is the other morally upstanding character and although he's a bit more morally grey than the two of them he's certainly not okay with genocide by any means and yet he still stays.

I get it they are the two most morally upstanding characters and are very emotionally tied to the teiflings but they are then totally exempt from the story and loose a lot of content and depth. They both already have the least amount of content out of the origins characters from Karlach's late addition and Wyll's re-writes and cutting them out of the evil storyline just adds to this. It's especially frustrating with Karlach because she's so easy to miss as well as having less content. According to the DEV's this is on purpose bizarrely too "I would've missed Karlach if I hadn't been reading guides...

AS: That's common, I think.

SV: But it's also on purpose, because the replay value is much stronger if you've discovered things..." from https://www.ign.com/articles/baldurs-gate-3-final-interview-game-of-the-year-2023-characters-endings

I feel also that they could very easily stay for the evil route in multiple ways without sacrificing their characters.

For Karlach she could have a speech at the goblin party post slaughter about how she thought she was free but this is just like Avernus. There's really nowhere where she can relax, nowhere where she can do good. No one that she can form a connection to that won't betray her. But if that's how it's got to be fine she's put up with it for ten years she can do it a little more to be rid of the tadpole.

Wyll could stay if he kills Karlach. This causes him to go through a Shadowheart like change. I think choosing to save or kill Karlach is his biggest and most dramatic moment (partially because he's annoyingly passive so much of the rest of the story but still) like choosing to save or kill the Nightsong is Shadowheart's. And thus should bring about a similar change in him like how Shadowheart shuts herself off if you kill Dame Ayelin.

There's dialogue that I assume is from early access because otherwise it makes no fucking sense like "I fear your lust for power could get the better of you. You are a hero not a politician." that you can say to Wyll. But with this route we'd actually bring out this side to him. At present his reaction to finding out he did an honest to god murder with Karlach is pretty lack luster (I blame the writing as they reuse so much of his saving Karlach lines instead of giving him a properly new scene). Instead of being upset I say he goes through a change and tries to justify himself instead. Like "I had to do it, you don't know what Mizora would have done to me" "I can still be a hero" "it was a one time loop hole who else are we going to find who is heartless". Something like that. We play up the dichotomy between the Blade and Wyll too. Now he only refers to himself as The Blade. He's less willing to hear feedback. He's more defensive. He isn't so much a person but a symbol.

However, he still wants to do good and should still definitely be upset at the goblin party. At the party he should say something like "These people trusted me! Trusted us! I was to be their hero! This isn't over. But I can't have the people seeing me as any more of a monster. So I'll stay with you since you hold the only thing stopping me from growing tentacles." He's still concerned with heroics but it's more selfish now.

When he made the pact with Mizora he gave up his home, only family, friends, previous career plans, everything! This is him desperately trying not to have to loose anything else. He would argue now that at the very least he should be able to keep his reputation, be allowed to keep his secret (which would add to how powerful it is that he grows horns in the other path). He's scared and so young and so the "good" ending would be keeping his pact with Mizora and dooming himself to an eternity of torture. Doing the scary thing anyway and becoming a lemur, a monster. I do consider breaking the pact to be the "good" ending at present but maybe it's just the "good" ending for the other version of him on that path. Because the other version of him is unendingly selfless and so should prioritize himself.

The other option is Karlach and Wyll both live. Get very angry at you for killing the teiflings. Say they'll stay because they're not strong enough to kill themselves and can't risk transforming without the Prism and inflicting that on people instead. So they say they'll stay but are secretly planning to kill you if you don't change. They pull a Minthara . Much like after revealing to Minthara that you can stop the Absolute's voice she'll try and kill you if you destroy last light inn Wyll and Karlach try and kill you. It would at least give them a bit more time with the party and maybe even stay entirely if you change.

[avatar-saiki]

A Rose With No Petals

Mammon/reader, 6.5k words

//Spoilers for Princess Rose event and Fashion Hot Shot Devilgram

You sat at your desk, idly tracing along the delicate pink petals of the crown you’d been given. It hadn’t been the first time you’d been… unexpectedly included in the celebrations and ceremony, but something about it this time had felt…

You sighed and pushed the crown aside, deciding it was much better to sulk with your face buried in your arms than looking at something pretty. Coming to the Devildom had been nothing short of a vast improvement of your life. You’d made friends, even felt the first touches of love tickle your heart, and now and then it even felt like it would never end.

It really did feel like such a special privilege to see how they’d changed in the time you’d spent here, though, arguably you hadn’t really done nearly as much as they always seemed to insist.

Every event.

Every party.

Every moment they wanted to tie it back to you, and what you did to make it possible.

But… as with many of these moments…

It wasn’t you who had caught the demon tarnishing Mammon’s name. It was Asmodeus.

It wasn’t you who had tried to help Beel retrain to be a dame. It was Barbatos.

It wasn’t even you who had thought of the best speeches, but at least in that regard no one else had done that well either.

You lifted your head, soft pastel pink staining your peripheral vision.

“Why was I even given a crown…” you mumbled, resting your cheek on your arms again. Asmodeus who had always been so focused on himself when you’d first met gave up his spot to save Mammon’s chance, and Mammon turned around to try and give the title of Princess Rose to him in return. It’d been so tender and sweet, such a touching moment to see them crowned as Twin Princesses together.

And then you were just.

There.

Why didn’t—

“Hey, hey!” Mammon’s voice startled you and you snapped to attention, looking at him wide-eyed in surprise. “Whatcha up to? You’re not sleepin’ are ya?”

“Mammon, what—“

Asmodeus leaned in to peer around the doorframe, “Hi, hon~! Mammon, you nitwit,” he straightened and smacked Mammon’s arm, “When will you ever learn to knock first?”

“Huh? Why would I?” He threw up his hands and smirked at Asmodeus, “My human’s basically given me the green light to come and go as I please already.”

“What?” Asmodeus gasped and looked at you. “Is that true?”

You couldn’t help noticing the way your face wanted to smile and turned your back to them to touch just below your eyes. No tears, thankfully.

“Sort of? It’s more of I just got used to him coming in whenever he wanted and it was easier to get used to that than try and make him stop.”

“Yeah, see?” You could practically feel his smugness in his voice. “Their room is basically my room and so on.”

“That is not what they just said.”

“It’s close enough.”

“Ugh,” Asmodeus’ pouting drew your attention and he crossed his arms, “Does that mean I can come to you too whenever I want?”

You blinked, then shrugged. “Well… yeah. Of course you can, Asmo—“

“Aw, yay! I knew you loved me!” 

“Oi! Wait a minute!” Mammon stuck out his arm to stop him. “Let’s not get carried away now.”

Asmodeus pouted for a moment, then smirked at his elder brother. “I’m sure they’d love to be carried away~”

“Wh-What’s that supposed to mean?”

Asmodeus’ vibrant eyes flashed at you, his smile wicked and lovely. “Isn’t it just the dreamiest to imagine yourself being whisked away to a life of romantic bliss?”

“Well I—“

“Hold on!” Mammon stepped between you two, “Don’t go makin’ plans like that in front a’ me, we were supposed to ask ‘em together!”

“Oh, right.” Asmodeus tittered, clasping his hands behind his back and leaning against the doorjamb. “I’ll behave~” He winked at you, “For now.”

“Tch.” Mammon put his hands on his hips with a sigh. “Unbelievable.”

“Don’t you even start,” Asmodeus quipped, the look on his face stealing a laugh from your heart. Both demons looked at you, evidently delighted at the sound.

“You wanna go out with us?”

“Out? Right now? Why?”

Asmodeus chuckled. “Do we need a reason? We want to go shopping!”

Surprised, you looked up at Mammon. “Did you win recently or something?”

“Ah-“ He glanced away, “Well no but Goldie can cover me until I do. Plus when we get our perfume launched we’ll be makin’ bank.”

Asmodeus smiled and winked at you. “And even if we don’t, Mammon agreed to pay so it’s hard to say no to that~”

“I said I’d pay for them not you!”

“Aw even after all I did to clear your name?”

“Hey you were the one that chose to do that, I didn’t ask you for help!”

“And there goes that nobility and charm that captivated us all… such a fleeting beauty it was.”

“If you’re gonna be like that then maybe this shoppin’ trip doesn’t have room for you too!”

“Oh please, you need me around or you’ll get all tongue-tied realized you just asked them out on a date.”

“What!”

You stood up and gathered up your things, wordlessly walking between them out to the front door, knowing they’d follow. Was it weird to find comfort in their bickering? To even find it a little funny and appreciate the smile that it gave? You may not be much, but at least you had the chance to see these demons are more than the Vices they represented.

That feeling, however, was rather fleeting.

When you’d first arrived in the Devildom it was easy to feel the prickle of many eyes watching crawl up your spine. A human born of nothing, with nothing, waltzing around among the world of demons was nothing short of absurd. Then, making pacts with some of the most powerful of all had certainly turned heads. And, of course, eyes wouldn’t be watching you alone. There were many times you’d accompany Asmodeus on his shopping trips and have to excuse yourself to breathe whenever his fans crowded too close.

But today was…

Different.

Everyone was so aware of your little group, the whisperings and murmurings buzzing about. Both Mammon and Asmodeus seemed to be living it up, basking in the thinly veiled praises and envy while you… felt yourself drifting further away.

So what if you’d learned magic and could cast a few powerful spells now?

Was it even fair to consider it your power, or just power borrowed from the friends you’d made?

Friends that…

“Huh?” Mammon’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts again, and you looked up to see him talking to a well dressed demon with a haughty aura. 

“Uh… you’re givin’ me a business card? Cool so you’re with… Evil Devitton?” He flipped the card over. “Wait for real?! You’re scoutin’ me as a model for the Evil Devitton?!”

The demon merely laughed and gestured for him to follow, and Asmodeus muttered under his breath. “Oh I don’t know if I like the look of this, we should go with him in case it’s a scam.”

“Do you think it could be?” You asked, looking up at him in surprise. “Wait. Would someone really try to scam Mammon?”

He gave you a pitying smile, “Hon, everyone always assumes he has money, of course they try to scam him.”

Huh.

Well. Thinking about it more, it did make sense. Witches always seemed to fleece him whenever they had the opportunity.

“Poor Mammon…” you said aloud, though more to yourself.

Even so, Asmodeus chuckled and looped his arm around yours, “Yes, poor Mammon. We’ll have to keep him out of trouble together~”

Keeping him out of trouble might’ve been easier. From the swanky VIP lounge they invited you all to enjoy to the complimentary food and drinks while they wined and dined Mammon, it did nothing but widen the distance even further. Fancy foods, fancier brands. Hell, even the food was something you never would’ve dreamed of seeing let alone eating a few years ago when all you’d been aware of was the world of your own.

And he just…

Looked so happy negotiating the deal.

So thorough and detailed, it was amazing to see him work. He went over each and every little detail of the contract and even went over it again when a clause had been poorly worded.

Why did they have to keep humoring you?

They didn’t need you.

They were amazing enough on their own.

Before the negative thoughts could sink in further, you stood up and walked over to where Asmodeus was mildly sulking in the corner.

“I think he might be a little while longer, why don’t we step outside? I feel like I’m suffocating in here.”

“Mm…” He sat up straighter with a sigh, “Yeah, it is a little hot in here isn’t it? It’d be so unsightly if I were to sweat, ugh, just think of how greasy that would make my hair look.” He stood up and picked up his bags, “Why don’t we walk home together and leave him to it?”

“Sure,” you agreed, grabbing yours and Mammon’s bags, then held out your arm. “Shall we?”

Asmodeus’ eyes glittered and he looped his around yours again. “Let’s~”

 You’d just reached the door, the rush of brisk night air greeting you as Mammon’s frantic, “H-Hey wait, where’re you goin?” kissed your back.

Asmodeus, though, was ready to leave and stepped out into the night with you. “We’re going home~ if you want to walk with us you better hurry!”

“J-Just a second! Hold on! Wait- Asmo!”

Asmodeus laughed and hugged your arm, giving warmth to an otherwise chilly journey home with Mammon tailing behind.

If only that warmth could last.

After that night, your first demon was much too busy to hang out as often as he’d used to. It’d been nearly a week since he’d burst into your room, the fact not lost on you when you started not feeling so tense changing and worrying that a demon might randomly see your butt at an inopportune moment. A funny thought, in a way, and you couldn’t help wishing he’d still burst in to see your butt.

But alas…

Fame and fortune called.

“S-So this is what an Evil Devitton’s launch p-party’s like…!” Leviathan sputtered, fidgeting in his seat and fussing with the cufflinks on his sleeve. The Avatar of Envy looked absolutely overloaded with the demons filling the floor and every chair or couch in sight, laughter and cheers echoing in a cacophony of celebration. “…Nope, it reeks of party people in here! Can we just skip to the part where we go home?”

Beelzebub reached across the table to grab another pastry, stuffing it in his mouth before speaking. “Mm… we can’t leave yet… I’ve barely eaten anything…”

“Beel.” Lucifer sighed, clearly already too exhausted to nag fully. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”

“So,” Satan picked up a glass of Demonus, swirling it idly while holding his chin in his hand, “we’ve come at Mammon’s invitation, but where is he?”

“Oh,” Asmodeus sat back and crossed his arms with a roll of his eyes, nodding toward the crowd. “He’s right in the thick of that mess over there.”

Mess? Maybe. Demons were crowding around him, eager to talk with him, ask him to sign whatever they could get their hands on, and shower him with praises. So much attention would’ve been your worst nightmare, but he was thriving.

The sight made your heart feel… tight.

The way he laughed… the way he smiled… had he always been so confident? He’d struck you as rather cocky when you’d first met, but after how he handled the Princess Rose event and this? It was like he was in an element entirely of his own, charming the crowds with his own special flair.

So he really didn’t need you.

“I think I want to go home,” you mumbled, making a move to stand and Leviathan jumped at the chance. 

“If you’re leaving, I’m going with you!”

“Yeah, sure,” you said thoughtlessly, slipping on your jacket. “C’mon, let’s slip out before the crowd blocks the way to the door.”

“You’d go even though there’s still so much food left?”

Beelzebub’s simplemindedness made you smile, if only just a little.

“Beel’s got a good point.” Asmodeus said, picking up a fork to spear the devicherry sitting atop his slice of cake. “We might as well stick around for the sweets.”

“Eh, you can just have my share. Ready to go, Levi?”

“Uh… isn’t that Mammon looking at us?” he asked instead.

“Doubt it,” you said, turning on your heel. “C’mon Levi, let’s—“

“Hey!”

You stopped, looking over your shoulder to see Mammon working his way through the crowd. “What?”

He paused when he reached you, studying your face. Your tone betraying your mood a bit too much apparently.

“Are you sulkin’? I came as fast as I could.” He shrugged and nodded behind him, “I wanted to get over here faster, but people wouldn’t stop comin’.”

“So?” Asmodeus twirled his fork around, the glistening red of the devicherry illuminated in the party lights. “What had you rushing over here for?”

Mammon scowled at him briefly, then glanced at you, and back to him again. “I gotta ask a big favor.”

“Oh here we go,” Asmodeus muttered under his breath, biting off the cherry.

“Be nice, Asmo,” you chided halfheartedly, then tried your best to hide your sorrow with a smile. “How can I help?”

Mammon turned to you, “I need you to be my personal manager!”

Asmodeus nearly choked for you, the gears in your head freezing.

“I… what?”

He shrugged with his palms up, “There’s way too much to keep track of with all the designing and collaboration with Evil Devitton, not to mention I still gotta do an actual shoot with ‘em to show off their new Dame collection. I need someone to help me, and,” he winked, coyly hiding his smile behind his fingers. “I think my number one servant oughta do it.”

You couldn’t help smiling a little, but Asmodeus laughed before you could answer.

“Oh please, you just want to push off all your busy work onto them.”

“I do not!” He growled, making you laugh.

“I don’t know how to manage, but… I could try if you really need the help.” 

The way his eyes lit up when he smiled.

“Ah, now that’s my human!” He said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I knew ya wouldn’t let me down!”

“Yeah…” You couldn’t look at his face, but tried to keep the smile. 

Even if it was just busy work… at least you could be needed for something.

Even if it was only for a little while.

“I’d be happy to, Mammon.”

——————————

Managing for Mammon turned out to be way more than you bargained for. Not only did he need to keep on schedule with Evil Devitton’s designers, but they expected him to maintain the elegance and dignity he exemplified during the Princess Rose event. Which meant more practice and strict training (albeit you were kinder than Lucifer had been). Then there was his sleep schedule, and making sure he didn’t overdo it with the “decompressing” at the casino.

Luckily, Asmodeus had stepped in to take up some of the slack and keep him on track. He’d brushed it off as only helping to make sure Mammon didn’t eat anything that could cause breakouts or that he didn’t want to see you overworked and tired, but you knew better. As much as he tried to hide it, he cared about Mammon too.

And maybe a little bit of jealousy was present. 

Either way, you were happy to feel like you were doing something to help. The changing room felt more like a lounge, wide and open with mirrors all set up at one side to allow the model to check every pose and angle before stepping into the next room’s studio for the shoot.

It was all so fancy, nothing like you’d ever experienced, but how many times had you thought that now? You sighed, carefully brushing unseen lint off a silky sleeve. At some point this was supposed to feel normal, wasn’t it? It was their normal…

“Thanks again for agreein’ to be my manager!” Mammon said, striding in with a grin.

“Sure thing,” You said, unable to help meeting that smile. “You looked like you really needed the help.”

“Yeah, it’s real kind of ya to agree to somethin’ like this. That’s what I—“

Asmodeus sighed, and Mammon frowned. 

“Wait, what’re you doin’ here?”

“Well,” He crossed his arms loosely and nodded to the rack of clothes, “you obviously needed the extra help, but I wasn’t about to let you pile too much onto them.”

Mammon scoffed, “I ain’t gonna do that! ‘Sides, they like workin’ with me,” he turned to wink at you. “Don’t ya?”

“I—“

“They have no way of knowing when they’re in over their head, you know that as well as I,” Asmodeus cut in, walking over to the rack of outfits and carefully flicking through them. “Plus… I’ve got to admit… these designs of yours are pretty cool, Mammon.”

How quickly that grin would reappear to make your heart skip.

“‘Course they are! I’m the one that came up with ‘em!” He said, holding out one of the skirts colored in a deep ruby red with golden lace accents, “I picked out everythin’ that we’re using for today’s shoot, too.”

“Really?” you asked, “I thought Evil Devitton was asking you to model, not design too.”

His eyes gleamed and he winked at you, “Well the agents I’ve been workin’ with just so happen to be a lot smarter than the rest, I’ve worked out some real good deals for myself.”

“Ugh,” Asmodeus walked over to the lounge chair to sit down. “Here we go again.”

“Oh like you don’t make us listen to you brag every time you wake up and snap the perfect selfie.”

You stifled a giggle, but Asmodeus’ indignant face was too cute. 

“Hey, it’s not every- well it is, but some mornings I look absolutely breathtaking when I wake. Who wouldn’t be grateful to see that?”

Mammon rolled his eyes and took the first outfit off the rack, “You just make sure to get a good look at every last detail, ‘cause I nailed every part of this thing.”

“Good luck,” you said, feeling a little silly because he probably didn’t need it, but…

He did smile again.

You didn’t want to intrude or distract, but it was nearly impossible to resist the curiosity when the camera lights began to flash. You snuck into the studio, keeping in the shadows while Mammon was…

Breathtaking.

Every pose he struck.

Every outfit he wore.

Every direction they gave.

It made your heart… tight.

You snuck back into the changing room and sat down on the couch. Why was that feeling starting to creep up again? He just felt so…

“Wow, Mammon’s photoshoot actually ended on time.” Asmodeus commented, peering in briefly and nodding to himself. “That’s the mark of a true pro.”

“Yeah,” you hated how your voice sounded so hollow. Why couldn’t you be more supportive? “This kind of thing really suits him, huh?”

“Mhm~” he hummed, “It’s like he’s come into his own. It’s not easy being a freelance model, either.” He walked over to you and sat down with a sigh, “If he could curb his money grubbing tendencies, he’d be a fabulous model… but I think that’s asking a little too much of Mammon.”

“Why do you—“

“Hey! Thanks for waitin’!” Mammon strode into the room, wearing a silk robe that he used between outfits. “So,” His eyes lit up the moment he stopped in front of you, eager for praise. “What’d you think? Pretty awesome, right?”

“Yeah, you were amazing!”

He chuckled and glanced back at the door, barely trying to hide that cocky grin. “These shots are gonna be all over tons of magazines and ads and stuff!”

“So, what’s next?” Asmodeus asked, standing up. “It sounds like everyone involved is loving your work, so you must’ve gotten an offer for a second season.”

“Ah- yeah… about that…”

Asmodeus groaned under his breath, “Oh no… what happened?”

“Nothin’” He said, shrugging. “They want me on as a model for the next collection, yeah, but I turned ‘em down.”

You sucked in a breath, but Asmodeus beat you to it.

“You WHAT?!”

“Relax, it ain’t a big deal!” He said, holding up his hands to placate his brother. “‘Sides, I—“

“Are you insane? You turned down Evil Devitton?! What in the Three Worlds for?!”

Mammon glanced at you briefly, then reached over to lead Asmodeus out of the room. “Look, I’ll explain just—“

“Don’t touch me! I cannot believe you would say no to modeling for Evil Devitton. Do you not grasp how influential their brand is?”

“Yeah, yeah, but listen…” Their voices faded away as they stepped outside to “chat” and you slouched back into the couch, staring up at the ceiling.

It wasn’t…

No.

Please don’t say it was.

They were gone longer than you expected, and you didn’t want to intrude so you wound up scrolling through Devilgram and swiping through Asmodeus’ latest updates. He, of course, sent you all these photos too but it was a little funny realizing that he’d sent you a few different ones than what he’d chosen to upload, though they were nearly the same in most cases. What made him decide which was post worthy, and what was sent to friends?

“Sorry to keep you waiting~” Asmodeus chimed, striding in and looking… much happier than before.

That was odd.

“What happened? Are you two—“

You half stood up and your knees nearly gave out again when you saw Mammon. The extensions  he’d been wearing had been touched up again, cascading in a waterfall of white down his back in stark contrast to the charcoal fur boa resting delicately on his shoulders. His sides were hugged in floral lace that cinched up the bodice of his dress, intricate blends of abstract feathers across his chest. Even the belt felt as if it were molded to his body rather than a means to hold the silken skirt to his hips, the slit high up his thigh to reveal a silver gemmed garter with even more lace peering underneath.

He was even more beautiful than when you’d seen him on stage… 

But why…

Asmodeus sauntered passed you on the balls of his feet, humming a happy tune while he walked over to the rack and flipped through the hangers until he found what he was looking for. 

“Mammon, you sly devil~ I’ll have to keep my eye on you.”

“I dunno what you mean,” he said cheekily, winking at you when he caught you staring. 

“What… what’s going on? Why’re you wearing that outfit again?”

“Hm?” he blinked, then grinned. “Well, I still own this one so I can do what I want with it.”

“Okay… but—“

“Do you want to wear the suit or dress?” Asmodeus asked, holding up two outfits.

“Huh?” You turned around again, and your heart leapt to your throat.

In his left hand, he held up a suit of deep navy blue and black with silver buttons and lace trim along the lapel. The pant legs were smooth and sleek, a similar belted accent added to the right leg similar to the wrist straps on Mammon’s arms. The dress in his right hand was similarly coordinated, though not as revealing as Mammon’s see-through laced sides. Instead, the furs were used to create a collar that allowed the neck to fit snug while giving room to allow the jewelry to flourish, silver against midnight.

But most important of all…

“Those…”

They weren’t fitted for Mammon.

“I wasn’t sure which one you’d wanna wear,” Mammon admitted, catching you by surprise when he stopped beside you. “But I…” He blushed and avoided your eyes, instead focusing on the outfits. “I… kinda got carried away thinking about it and I couldn’t help tryin’ to come up with something you could wear with… I mean,” He reached up to touch the end of his extensions, twirling his hair idly, “I thought it might be fun to… do a shoot with ya.”

“Oh, Mammon I can’t. I don’t have the face or the body for—“

“Um, excuse me? I’m right here!” Asmodeus interrupted, hanging up the outfits and giving you a wicked smile. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to dress you up.”

“We’ve done spa nights before though…”

Mammon smirked and Asmodeus just rolled his eyes with a sigh. 

“Oh don’t start that with me, we all know you’re gorgeous, hon. Now, Mammon, get out so I can help them change.”

“I- what?! Why do I gotta leave?”

“Because you’re too noisy and distracting.”

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You just did right now.”

“But—“

“There you go again,” Asmodeus chided, herding him out of the room. “Just go wait in the studio, we’ll be there in twenty.”

Twenty seemed awfully fast, especially when you still couldn’t fathom wearing either outfit, let alone taking photos with Mammon yet, somehow, someway Asmodeus convinced you to entertain their schemes enough to step into silk and feel how fitted it was to your figure. It really was made for you, flattering you without feeling overly gaudy or flashy, even if deep in your mind you knew this was something you’d never wear. And Asmodeus… the way he used makeup to make your eyes look so bright and captivating, it was almost as if you could pretend to have a demon’s allure within your mirror’s gaze.

It was all so…

“I don’t even look like myself,” you whispered, reaching up to touch your cheek while Asmodeus brushed a hand across your back, inspecting the outfit at all angles.

“Nonsense, you always look like this,” he said, “you just have trouble seeing it.”

“I know you like to be charming, but you can’t really expect me to believe you think that, can you?”

He looked up at you, eyes soft and bright. “It’s what you look like to me.” His eyes sparkled when he left you speechless, and he walked away to pick up a pair of silver shoes. “Now, let’s get these on and join Mammon before he tries to break in.”

You laughed, letting him help you step into the shoes, “He wouldn’t do that…”

“Oh…” Asmodeus’ touch lingered around your ankle, “I think he would…”

You felt your heart flutter and turned your face away, reminding yourself that Asmodeus was just being flirty as usual.

“Thanks for… helping me get ready,”you said quietly, and he stood up again with a smile.

“Of course! Now, let’s go make you outshine Mammon, mm?”

“Oh, I don’t think I—“

“I won’t hear of it~” He said, looping his arm around yours and leading you along, “We’ll show him just how phenomenal you are.”

The studio was devoid of demons save for the Avatar of Greed himself standing in the center of the lights, expertly moving through poses and gestures with subtle glances to the cameras only now and then as if just remembering they were there. Every motion was so well practiced and fluid, you couldn’t help feeling so… human. So clumsy and awkward, there was no way you could look so elegant even with the clothes and makeup to match.

And yet…

The way he smiled when he saw you.

Asmodeus was quick to take charge, directing Mammon to pose with you and running through various poses and angles. It was dizzying never quite knowing where to look, the cameras flashing and the feeling of knowing that Mammon was in these photos with you. Surely with Asmodeus’ skills a few would turn out, right? But what if your face didn’t make the right expression? Or where you put your hands felt awkward? How did Mammon make it all feel so natural?

“Okay, now…” Asmodeus picked up a camera and walked around the room, squinting in thought as he inspected the two of you. “Mammon, stand behind them. Let’s make this one seem more coordinated, like you go together as a set.”

“Right, sure thing,” he said, placing a hand on your hip. “How’s this?”

What did he mean a set?

Asmodeus pursed his lips and looked through the lens, “Mm… no, that’s not quite right…”

“Okay, what about…” Mammon reached for your wrist with his other hand and spoke softly in your ear, “Can ya turn around like you wanna look up at me?”

“What?” You asked, doing just that while he lifted your arm, holding you with the lightest of touches.

“Ooo~ that’s cute!” Asmodeus cooed, snapping a few more photos while Mammon’s eyes glittered, gazing into yours.

Then he glanced at Asmodeus and wrapped his arm around your waist, leaning hard to the side while touching his lips to your neck.

You gasped.

Cameras flashed.

And you were upright again without another word.

Asmodeus clicked his tongue, walking off to the computer set up at the back for quick review of the photos taken while Mammon had a sudden fascination with the ceiling.

You touched your neck, feeling… warm.

“Ugh,” Asmodeus held his chin in his hand, “You’re despicable.”

Your heart sank. 

“Are they that bad?” You asked quietly, already knowing the answer. “I’m sorry, Mammon. I didn’t mean to ruin—“

“Now hold on, lemme see!” Mammon said, heels clicking as he strode passed you. “You probably just didn’t take the photos right, I—“

He froze, staring at the screen.

Your heart sank even further, could your body follow along with it?

“Can I see?” You asked hollowly, wanting the proof to just hit you in the face already. For all their kind words and gestures, you knew the truth deep down, you always had. 

“N-Nah you don’t wanna see ‘em,” he was already trying to deny it, turning his body to block your view. “We’ll take a few more, don’t worry about it!”

“I want to see,” you said, surprising yourself with how level your voice sounded. When did you walk over to the computer? You didn’t remember telling your feet to move. “Asmo, let me.”

He sighed and sat back in his seat, crossing his arms again. “There’s a reason why I said set, you know.”

“Sh-Shaddup!”

You blinked a few times to clear your blurring vision, the latest photo on full screen. Mammon holding you, dipping you, kissing your neck and looking right at the camera while you looked at him in disbelief. The shot itself was nothing special, a seemingly candid moment between poses, but…

He looked so…

Possessive.

Feeling lightheaded, you managed to mumble, “I think I’m done… could we go home now?”

Mammon winced and Asmodeus nodded, sitting up to grab the mouse. “Yes, just let me finish going through these and picking the best ones.”

Mammon frowned but muttered something about changing and walked off without another word. You watched Asmodeus scroll through various photos, comparing and discarding seemingly at random, but you trusted his eye.

Until he revisited that photo again, motioning to delete it.

“Wait-“ You held up your hand, “Can I… can we keep that one?”

He looked up at you with a raised brow, “Are you sure?”

You nodded, and he tapped his finger on the mouse without clicking it.

“You should be careful,” he said gently, “letting a demon act so possessive of you isn’t such an innocent thing…”

“I know,” you said, unable to look away from his eyes. Those eyes that captivated you more than you’d cared to admit. Every time they sparkled with his smile, or burned with frustration. There was just… something about the way he looked at you…

Was this something that… you had been too blind to see?

“I want to keep it,” you whispered.

Asmodeus sighed and added it to the folder, then finished up and shut the computer off. He handed you the drive and stood up, stretching his arms up overhead. “Mm~ well, whatever you want to do with those photos is up to you, but you should talk to Mammon about that expression sooner rather than later.”

Your face warmed again, and you held the drive in your fist. “Yeah, I will. Thanks for… well, all of this really. You didn’t have t—“

He turned on his heel and touched a finger to your lips, winking at you. “If you’re grateful, don’t dismiss my gestures, hon. Just enjoy them~”

He really could always make you smile.

“You’re right,” you said, gazing at him fondly, “Thank you, Asmodeus. Would you mind helping me get changed again? I don’t want to ruin Mammon’s outfit.”

He chuckled and looped his arm around yours, “I’d be happy to~”

While you were changing, Mammon sent a message telling you both to head back without him, he still had a few more things to work out with Evil Devitton before he could leave. Something still didn’t feel right, but there wasn’t much you could do so the walk home with Asmodeus was light but not as carefree as he made it out to be.

Why had Evil Devitton let him use their equipment like that?

And why would he turn them down?

It made no sense, he could make so much money on the deal and be set for life—

Or, well.

A few of your lives at least.

You still couldn’t quite remember how demons experienced aging and the passage of time, it seemed every dimension had its own rules.

Which…

You sighed, frustrated with yourself as you paced about Mammon’s room waiting for him to come back. Why couldn’t your stupid thoughts just shut up for once?

“Man, a day of modelin’ really takes it outta ya.” 

Mammon walked in, then smiled in surprise. “Oh hey! What’re you doin’ in here?”

“Why’d you turn down the offer?” You asked, immediately mentally kicking yourself for blurting out your worry.

He blinked, “Hm? Oh, we’re back to that, huh?” He shrugged and walked over to his closet to take off his jacket, “Eh, it’s pretty simple. I didn’t like how I wasn’t gettin’ to spend any time with you.” 

That’s not what you wanted to hear at all.

You sat down on his couch, guilt creeping in. “Mammon… you’d make so much money though.”

He shrugged and set his glasses down on his dresser, then knelt down to tug off his boots, “I’m still gonna model, of course. And I’ve got other ways of makin’ a profit, too.” He winked, “Don’t doubt me, y’know I’m the Great Mammon after all.”

“But...“

You couldn’t even say it.

You were so weak and insecure.

He stood up and walked over to the couch, taking a seat beside you. “I just couldn’t stand losin’ all the time I usually get to spend with you again.”

No.

Don’t say that.

You blinked, but your eyes still burned. “Mammon…”

He looked at you with a sheepish grin, “I guess that uh, that feeling came out a bit too much during the shoot, huh?”

You said nothing, feeling your throat start to tighten.

“I can… try n’ keep it back for ya…” he said, “But I don’t think I can hide it anymore. I wanna be with you. I like bein’ with you.”

“M-Mammon—“

He shook his head, “You don’t have to want me back, just let me—“

You wrapped your arms around his neck, hiding your face while holding him tight.

“Did you really mean it? With the way you looked…”

“Y… Yeah…”

You held him tighter, feeling stupid but so comforted having him so close. 

“…I missed you too,” you admitted, “Managing was fun but… it wasn’t the same.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “I thought it’d be an easy way to get more time with ya, but really it just reminded me how much I was missing.”

You laughed softly, “You’re really that needy?”

“Mm…” He took hold of your arms and leaned back, making you look up at his soft smile. “I think I’d prefer greedy, but you can call it what you want.”

“Greedy would imply you’d take the job and forget about me,” you teased, and he rolled his eyes.

“Here, c’mere,” he said, scooping you up into his lap and wrapping his arms around you. Then he let out a contented sigh, resting his head in the crook of your neck, “It’s crazy how much better I feel just by holdin’ ya in my arms like this…”

Neither of you said anything for a while, then he spoke again.

“You’re amazing, you know that? I don’t know what I’d do without ya.”

“I dunno, I think you’ve fared pretty well without me for a while,” You said, trying to sound lighthearted in your self-depreciation.

He tsked, not buying it for a second.

“Even if I did, it ain’t the same.” He looked up at you, “I can’t even begin to tell ya how much it hurts to see you hangin’ out with other folks and I can’t be there too. Not to mention things like bein’ famous doesn’t feel anywhere near as fun if I can’t share it with you.”

Your heart wanted to fly, but you stubbornly kept it grounded.

“Sharing? An odd thing to say for the Avatar of Greed.”

He laughed lightly, hugging you tighter for a brief moment. “Yeah, yeah, I know… but I…” He sighed and leaned back, reaching up to cup your cheek and gaze into your eyes. 

“I… want to be… so greedy…”

“Did you really mean it?” you whispered, “That out of all the flowers… I’m the most special?”

“Ah…” He blushed a little, his thumb gracing your chin. “You remember that?”

You nodded, and he smirked a little.

“You remember a lot of what I say?”

You nodded again.

He chuckled, sitting up a little and tilting his head as if he might go for a kiss.

“You’re the most important thing in my life,” he murmured, caressing your cheek again. “I can’t imagine a future I’d want without you in it.”

“Mammon, I…”

He sensed your hesitation and started to lean back, “The only kinda future that’d be better is one where you want me back, but I’ll take what I can g—“

You kissed him, the tears that had threatened to fall now caught in your lashes as you cupped his cheeks and kissed him with your whole soul. It wasn’t the picture, the clothes, the attention, or the misplaced praises that you struggled to accept. He just… was. 

He wanted.

And he wanted…

You.

You broke the kiss, ready to mumble an apology but he only grinned.

“Oh… well, would you look at that….” His eyes flashed in gold. 

“Someone wants me back~”