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echantedtoon · 3 months ago

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A Lovers' Circle (Poly Haishira x Reader) Ch14 Halloween Party

(Or Alternate title Y/n gets to meet a LOT of inlaws all in one night. Plus obligatory Halloween episode! Next heart to be won is on the way!

If you wanna know what Halloween costumes most of the characters are wearing follow the links. Y/n's costume is the pic on top.

https://www.tumblr.com/echantedtoon/764252092271640576/demon-slayer-characters-halloween-costumes-p1?source=share

Taglist: @shadyd3ar @jcrml

@tengensangel @miniverse-zen @mysteri0uz @jjamsbangtan

@the-unknown-fandom

@lavenderdropp @mimisweetz. @purplesoulsapphire

@kksmush @denkpanda18 @whomisi @lessthanimperfect @silver-rin

@rotting-alone @namis-noodlebox

@k1ttyluverz @akiramente

@rascalraccoon @ravenclawkae1

Remember if you want to be added to the taglist lemme know

A party on Halloween. That sounded like a fantastic idea!

From what Gyomei told you after work, Kyojuro was hosting a large party at his family's house and had invited all of his partners and their extended families so it'd double as some kind of giant family dinner. Of course being Gyomei's girlfriend, Kyojuro was MORE than happy to invite you along as Mei's plus one. Your boyfriend did suggest that you invite your family as well but thankfully and unfortunately you didn't have much family and weren't close to most of the ones you did have.

Your father passed, your mother only saw you once or twice a year since you were abandoned on your great Aunt's doorstep, and your aunt-

"I'm afraid my Aunt Dakita can't come." You casually mentioned while pouring your boyfriend a cup of tea.

White eyes followed the distant sounds of the kitchen as you shuffled around. "Oh? You did ask didn't you?"

"I did," you answered truthfully before you sighed in relief. "She's running a 'future reading' booth for a client's party and then she's going out of town the next day for a wedding. Apparently she helped the groom meet his husband?"

"Oh. By reading tea leaves?"

"Nope. The groom works at the nearby cafe and his husband was looking for someone who cooked good."

"Ah. I'm surprised that she didn't try to match him up with you considering how well you cook. That meatloaf was delicious." You smiled at him before a deep chuckle settled in. "Or maybe I should consider myself lucky that no one snatched you up before I did.~"

"Are you flirting with me?"

"Depends. Do you like it?"

The sounds of footsteps came back into the living room and a second later a soft warmth of a kiss was pressed to his cheek and a warm cup of tea was gently placed in his hands. By the smell of it, it was camomile tea with honey and milk. The smile on his face only increased feeling the sofa dip next to him as a warm weight settled to his right.

"Yes.~ Who knew the gentle giant knew how to sweet talk?"

He chuckled as the glass was raised to his lips contently. "When you spend enough time around Tengen and Mitsuri you tend to pick up a few things over the years."

"Speaking of them, have you been noticing anything strange lately?"

He hummed halting his enjoyment of his drink to face you with a half worried half confused look. "Strange? Strange how?"

"Oh..I don't know. They seem to be acting a little bit more.." You scrunched up your face thinking of the right words to use. "They seem..uh..A little bit more different from when I first met them I guess? Does that make sense?"

Your boyfriend blinked before humming and turning away. His face scrunching into a genuinely thoughtful look as he sipped at his drink once more. "..Now that you mention it, there has been a few strange occurrences that I've noticed." One in particular with Sanemi crossed his mind. The day Jake showed up a second time.

"Im sorry for taking so long. The owner was very understanding of the situation. Apparently he was not the first person who caused a fight at the bar."

You continued to finish up wiping at your eyes face still red from crying and anger. Blinking before turning to toss the napkin in a nearby trashcan. This day was a disaster. It started out great but ended up being just a mess. You scowled at nothing but blinked when two large hands suddenly cupped your cheeks and tilted you up to the concerned look of Gyomei.

"Are you alright?"

You blinked before nodding. "Y-Yes. I'm ok. *sniff*" Although you did sigh and lean into the comforting touch of his hands.

"I'm sorry. I should've been there. This is the second time I wasn't there when he was around."

"I-It wasn't your fault."

"No. I should've been there. I have no excuses."

"Listen to her, Mei." A hand plopping onto his side had Gyomei turning towards Sanemi. "You were talking to your MOM. Sides you think a bastard like that cares about anyone else but himself? It's no one's dam fault but his and if he has at least one working braincell-" SMACK! He quickly smacked a fist into his palm. A strained smile on his face. "-he'll stay away. If not I have no problem knocking some more sense into 'em."

"I-I appreciate that."

"Tch. No one touches my girls and gets away with it."

... Gyomei turned his head with a brow raised to him. "'My girls'?"

"OUR girls!," Sanemi quickly corrected looking at him. "Kanae shouldn't have gone through that neither did your girlfriend! I'm not wrong!"

Gyomei raised a brow higher with a hum as Sanemi sweated under him.

Hmm... Perhaps he had meant it just as a platonic way. After all Mitsuri had 'girlfriends' who were just friends but still referred to them as her girlfriends. Perhaps Sanemi was also referring to his girlfriend as a friend who just also happened to be a girl? Most likely. But could it be possible that maybe just maybe that Sanemi-...?

"...Well, I can't deny that I have noticed one or two instances-," he admitted finally,"-but i don't think it's anything to worry over."

"Are you sure? Shinobu and Giyuu especially seemed to be a bit more...cheerful?"

Yes. He noticed that too. Both Giyuu and Shinobu were usually very stoic, somber, and reserved people even if Shinobu often smiled hiding her more.. upsetting emotions. But lately he's very much noticed a shift in their tones. Much more happy and uplifting, which was surprising. Not a bad thing but surprising for sure. Especially since Giyuu was so much more talkative. He wasn't the only one who noticed too. Rengoku had commented to him on Giyuu's new confidence to speak.

"Tomioka spoke a lot today about how best to treat a sprained wrist! I didn't know he could speak so much!"

Then again he noticed little changes in Kanae too. Not the sudden personality shift like her sister but he did notice that when he mentioned his girlfriend to them she'd always pipe up first asking how she was doing and if he would be BRINGING her anytime soon. Which was a nice gesture but he expected that kind of quirk to come out of Mitsuri or Suma. To be fair Mitsuri had asked him a dozen times the same question, but he already expected her to do that. Were the sudden changes bad?...No. But he was wondering why it was happening. He'd just keep an ear listening for now.

"I wouldn't worry about it like I said. But if it's making you uncomfortable-"

You held up your hands. "Oh no. I'm fine. It's just that I've noticed that they seemed more cheerful is all. I guess it's just because the party is almost here and this is going to be the last major project of this year."

"That could be it. Halloween is Shinobu's favorite holiday. I'm sure everything will be fine," he assured you with a smile. "In the meantime would you like to hear about my major? You mentioned wanting to know more about it."

You were thankful for the subject change. Gyomei's right. It was probably you overthinking it and the fact the party was coming up. "I'd love to!"

You had quickly brushed off your concerns after that. After all, if Gyomei wasn't concerned about it then why should you be? All progressed as normally as the days went on. You'd go to work, and see Sanemi twice a day dropping off his little brother and he seemed to be in a better mood than the time he threatened to rip the Karen into pieces. Sometimes Kanae would be accompanying him and you two would chat for a few minutes before they left. You still were doing the project with Shinobu and Giyuu. Sometimes it was all three of you, or just one of them, or you'd be by yourself and just send the video to Shinobu via email.

But you did receive your Tupperware back from Giyuu who looked sheepish when you thanked him and promised to make more delicious food for the couple. You also gave Mitsuri the food you promised to make for her. She was over the moon..and then proceeded to nearly end you in a bone crushing hug. Luckily you were saved by Mei and were able to continue breathing. However you still couldn't shake the feeling that there was something else you were missing with these interactions.

Like it was right there but you couldn't figure it out. Oh well. You were sure it'd come out sooner or later.

What mattered right now was just figuring out what to do for the party as Halloween was fastly approaching. It was hard not to notice with all the decorations hung on the streets and in stores, and the numerous costumes being bought out. But you weren't aware of the disaster that would soon befall you when it came to costumes. It was one of two days before the party actually and you were baking some sugar cookies in the shapes of pumpkins to take to the party, as a small thank you to Kyojuro for inviting you and it'd be rude to show up without bringing something in your opinion, when Gyomei Mitsuri asked you a question.

"Hey. Are you going to be dressing up for the party?"

You turned oven mitts on and hot tray in your hands. Mitsuri was there with her hair tied up and a pink apron thrown over herself. A little bit aways from her was Obanai making himself comfortable in a chair. At the moment he was drinking from a straw pushed under the medical mask he always wore and sipping on the tea you offered him.

You hadn't invited him over but Mitsuri dragged him along in order for you and him to get better aquatinted as you both were Gyomei's partners. Her words not yours. Obanai was quiet but he was very polite. He seemed to be awkward just standing there, so you decided to offer him something to drink and sit down while Mitsuri helped you bake enough cookies. She'd offered to help you after you spoke with her about having a lot of stuff already on your plate so you gladly took her up on that offer. However you did notice that Obanai wasn't really drinking the tea-

"Do you not like it, Iguro?" He hummed looking at you in question. You nodded towards his teacup. "The tea. Do you not like camomile? I can make you something different if you want."

"Nah. M' fine."

You didn't say anything about it but he still continued to just sit there holding the cup as he watched Mitsuri. After a moment longer of him silently sitting there, you had paused in your baking to go rummaging through the kitchen drawers and a second later returned with a reusable plastic straw. Obanai was surprised when you just silently plopped it down into his cup before you went on back to business like nothing happened. He stood there staring at it before looking at his lovestruck girlfriend. But accepted the gift poking the straw under his mask to drink.

But back to present you blinked at her before carefully placing the hot tray of cookies to the side. "Yeah actually. I have an old bridesmaid dress from my cousin's wedding. I can just wear that and throw on a masquerade mask." Maybe not the most creative costume ever but it was affordable.

"Can I see?"

"Sure! Let's put the last batch in the oven and I'll show you!"

Mitsuri was happy to follow you. Practically bouncing off the walls as you lead her to a random closet and started to rummage through the small space. Pushing a few boxes around until you found the medium sized black box you were looking for. Pulling it out and blowing some dust off. You opened the lid-

And a squeal left both of you as moths fluttered out.

The fluttered about some going down the halls while others perched onto the ceiling. You both just blinked at the insects before Mitsuri bent down and slowly returned back, holding up the remains of what was once a nice white dress now tattered and ridden with holes. You both just stared at it before you frowned.

"My dress!" Hands gently grabbed at the barely clinging on fabric. "It's ruined. Now what am I supposed to do?...I guess I can just wear the mask."

Mitsuri still looked at the tatters before she smiled. "Y'know ..I think I have some old costumes from a few theater performances I danced in? I got one that'll fit you perfectly I think! You can totally borrow it!"

"Really?!"

She nodded. "Yep! I'll even come by before the party and help you get dressed!"

"Mitsuri, you're a life saver! How can I ever repay you?"

"Lemme take some of those cookies home and we'll call it even!"

You couldn't help but giggle at the happy look in her eyes. "Sure. Just don't take all of them."

Whelp!

Mitsuri kept her word for helping you dress up. However you couldn't help but feel a bit surprised by her sudden arrival. It was a couple hours before the party and you were busy packing up the many, many cookies when there was a knock on the door. Huh. Couldn't have been Gyomei. He wasn't supposed to show up for another hour or two. However you did take time out to go check the door. Opening it up to reveal a very dapperly dressed bubbly girl on the other side.

Oh wow.

Mitsuri looked stunning!

A very pretty bubble gum pink and white Lolita style dress was adorning her body with matching heels, and black stripes draped over her shoulders and middle securing two glittery white fake dove wings to her back while her face was all dolled up in a way that just highlighted her already cute features. A black duffle bag hanging from her hand.

"TADA!! Whaddya think?!", she proclaimed holding out her arms proudly. "I'm a Cupid!"

You smiled brightly. "Mitsuri, you're beautiful!" Your compliment earnt a delightful squeal from her. "What are you doing here? Mei's already taking me to the party."

"Oh I know that, Silly. However I'm here for a different reason!" Her smirk widened as she held up the duffle bag. "Once I'm done with you, the others are going to be forced to fall over themselves!"

You rose a brow confused by what she said, but didn't get a chance to speak before you were suddenly grabbed and hauled off to the nearest changing room.

***************

Spooky sound effects were going off about the large room. A wolf's howl sounding off as the eerie fog rolled across the floor from the fog machine. Tiny footsteps were toddling along with each drag of the cloth gliding across the floors behind him. Edging closer and closer and closer to the target as they slowed down. Eyeing the man in sights from behind the chair leg. Before the unsuspecting man knew it, something dashed in front of her-

"BOO!"

Tengen blinked as Koto jumped out from behind the snack table. The cheap ghost costume made from an old kitchen sheet with two eye holes in it swayed as he held up his arms. After a moment the toddler waved his hands again.

"Boo?"

The silver haired man blinked before smiling. "*GASP!* OH NO!" He 'gasped' dramatically clutching a hand to his chest. "It's a ghost! Whatever shall I do?!"

"It otay, Ten-Ten!" The sheet was lifted revealing the excited face of the tot. "It me!"

"Koto? Oh my gosh. I didn't recognize you!"

"I scare you?!"

"Yes! Very much! You look just like a real ghost!" Tengen smiled wider hearing the toddler giggle before redawning his costume and running off to 'scare' his next victim.

"Aw! That was so cute!" He turned from the snack table to the cooing voice and found himself staring at Suma cooing at him and clutching a couple snacks already. The fake blood around her mouth a bit smeared from her snacking. "You're so good with kids, Hun!"

That made him chuckle. "Well to be fair, the little tyke did surprise me. The fog machine Kyo set up makes him blend in." He was finally able to get some 'witch's brew' punch and took a look around the room. "He really went all out."

The giant living room AND kitchen were both filled up with his partners and their families...Well most of their families. Sanemi's siblings were only staying for a little bit before their mom and Genya took the youngest ones trick or treating. Oh they all had generic costumes that their mom got for cheap. Two just had a few fake vampire teeth shoved into their mouths and Called it a day, a pair of witches, and lil Koto running around in that ghost sheet. He couldn't help but chuckle watching Mitsuri's brother jumping as suddenly the toddler popped out from under the table.

The place looked great!

Low lights. Fake fog. A dozen rubber bars dangling from the ceiling. And a few jack-o'-lanterns carved and placed around the rooms glowing brightly. Not to mention the great food all laid out for their enjoyment. Nothing alcoholic of course considering the influx of kids. He was fine with that, but he did wish the drinks included something else besides regular fruit punch. At least stock up on a few sodas.

"When's Mitsuri gonna get here? She's like running super late which is totally unlike her."

"Eh. She said somethin' about picking up Mei? I think."

No sooner had he said that then there was a loud knock on the door. Loud enough to be heard over the spooky music and sound effects being blasted out of Kyojuro's speakers and attract the attention of said flamed haired host whom perked up immediately. Kyojuro excused himself from talking to Kanae and Shinobu's parents to quickly shuffle over and answered the door. Opening it up widely and smiling as Mitsuri and Gyomei stood there. Her lace and ribbon outfit popping out against the dulled colors of Gyomei's own outfit. Wrapped up in random bandages and shifting around a long strand of red prayer beads.

"WE'RE HERE!", her loud voice announced their prescense causing a few heads to turn to them. "DO YOU LIKE OUR COSTUMES?!"

"YES! You both look stunning!," Kyojuro's also naturally loud voice echoed throughout the room as he happily smiled. "I'm glad you both could make it! But I don't see Y/n with either of you."

Mitsuri waved him off. "Oh she's right behind us. She baked some cookies for the party and just getting them real quick."

"How thoughtful! Please come in! Your family's already here!" They didn't have to be told twice. He gladly stepped aside to allow them inside before looking back out. Bushy eyebrows rose in surprise seeing who was walking their way slowly up the steps. "Well my goodness. Your costume is absolutely stunning, Y/n!"

"Thanks! I really like yours too!"

"Much thanks! Are those cookies I smell?"

"Yes! You want one?"

"Why thank you!" No one could see past Kyojuro's frame in the doorway but his arm moved and a moment later he shouted. "UMAI!" A few giggles from a girl escaped. "It's quite delicious!"

"They're sugar cookies. May I come in?"

"By all means!"

His frame moved back revealing a pumpkin shaped cookie in his hand and then a second later a parade of glimmer stepped through the doorway- CHOKE!! A loud choke sound escaped Sanemi's throat as he saw the woman walking in through the doorway, nearly choking on the half eaten taffy he swiped from the candy bowl. A similar reaction rippling through the others in the room as she stepped into the room.

A beautiful white sparkly ruffled dress was thrown over her body as a beautiful crown of glass diamonds and dripping beads sat regally on top of her styled hair. A matching white fake gemmed choker slapped onto her neck as she smiled pretty.

"Thanks, Kyojuro."

Said man nodded still chewing on the cookie in his hand. His costume was easy to guess. With the fake horns and ears he was obviously a dragon. Somehow seemed very fitting for the fiery haired man. Stepping inside you were immediately able to spot so many familiar faces. The first three being the sisters. All three of them dawned gothic like outfits minus a pair of pink or purple pretty plastic butterfly wings strapped to them the same way Mitsuri had her angel wings strapped to her. So they were fairies? Butterflies maybe? You greeted the staring trio with a smile before heading on over to the table full of food. Your other friends were crowding around there including Giyuu and Sanemi whom were both staring wide eyed and silently at you.

"Hi, Giyuu! Hi, Sanemi!", you happily greeted the men as they stared before turning to the others. "Hello, Tengen. It's nice to see you again!"

Said white haired man winked and sent a finger gun your way. "That's a flashy outfit you got there.~"

"Thank you! Mitsuri's letting me borrow one of her theater costumes." Taking a moment you looked in up and down. He was just wearing a pair of black pants and a t shirt that was opened up at chest a little bit with either fake blood or the red punch e was drinking spilt all over his mouth. "What are you supposed to be?"

He smiled wider and happily showed off fake fangs. "Why I'm the most flashy vampire this side of Japan." With a growl he quickly turned around to three similarly dressed ladies in white dresses and more fake blood. "Along with his three beautiful flamboyant brides he's going to make love too later.~" Suma giggled at his bad vampire accent as the other two rolled their eyes at his flirting.

"You guys look great!" You turned back to the other two staring men still smiling. "Nice Jiangshi costume, Giyuu! It matches your complexion. ...Um." Your brow rose at Sanemi placing the tray back down onto the table with the other food. Sanemi didn't look any different from his usual attire. Black pants, white button up shirt, black vest- The only difference was that he was wearing black gloves. "What are you supposed to be?"

Both still stared wide eyed making Tengen roll his eyes. "Romeo over here got lazy and just put on some gloves. Says he's supposed to be a 'body guard'." He made air quotations with the hand that wasn't holding a drink.

That seemed to snap Sanemi out of it because he whipped around angry at Tengen. "Oh like your costumes any better! All ya got is some new dentures and smeared lipstick smothered all over your face! You look like you let my brother do your makeup!"

Tengen gasped. "How dare you? I happen to use my art skills and talent in this!"

"Yeah. The artistic levels of a preschooler maybe!"

Your hand held up to try to stop the arguing, but you were surprised when Giyuu calmly reached over to lower it. "Don't. They'll be making out with each other in the end anyways. They always do. Why don't you come speak to Shinobu with me? I bet they'll like your costume."

You did. Finding the sisters speaking to Mitsuri. The four of you complimenting each other on the pretty costumes they wore before Kanae insisted on you meeting their parents. ...Oookay? It was strange but the older couple was nice and they thanked you briefly for helping Kanao get the dress she wanted. You casually shuffled around to go back to Gyomei whom was talking to a man you didn't recognize at the moment. Mitsuri was OVERJOYED to use the opportunity to introduce the stranger to you as her father. ..And then dragged you all the way across the room to meet her mom. ..And then back across the room to meet her little brother who was stuffing his face with your cookies. Guess both siblings had appetites.

She went on and on about how her parents owned a small business in town and how her brother was a senior in highschool but he wanted to study botany and on and on. It must've been at least an hour since you stepped in here and already were shoved into meeting with so many strangers. They all seemed like nice people though who welcomed you like you were just another one of them..

Oh goodness. You hoped they didn't mistake you for a new partner of theirs.

F/c eyes blinked as suddenly a plastic cup filled with red fruit punch was held in front of your face suddenly. Blinking at the liquid you followed the hand holding said cup all the way up to Kyojuro whom was brightly smiling at you like a ball of sunshine.

"Here! I'd be a bad host if I did not make sure all my guests were having a good time, and by the looks of it you could use something to drink," he politely offered.

With a smile you took the drink offered to you. "Thank you. Yeah. Mitsuri's dragged me around since I got here."

He let out a few laughs from the statement as you took a drink. Hey. This was pretty good punch. "I would expect nothing else from her! She's very passionate and that's a quality I love about her!"

You nodded politely out of agreement. "Mm. This is really good punch."

"THANK YOU! It's actually homemade!"

"Really? I'd love the recipe."

"You can ask my mother." He turned and pointed a hand to point out the kitchen just as Obanai dressed up as a doctor strolled out holding up a plate of half eaten cake. Ah. So that's where he's been hiding out. "She's the one who made it for the party."

"Oh. Thank you."

He politely accompanied you over towards the kitchen area. You've been there before on your first meeting with Mei's other partners but it looked different. Like the large living room, it too had been decorated with a single jack-o'-lantern on the table and a few black paper bats tapped to the walls. Not as decorated as the main party room but you appreciated the effort Kyojuro took to decorate his home.

Only four other people were in the kitchen area when Kyojuro escorted you in. Shinobu was one of them, digging around in the fridge before retrieving a soda can she wanted and left but smiled at you both. The other three were sitting and standing around the table and-...Well.

You could DEFINITELY tell Kyojuro was related to them.

How could you tell? Simple. They all looked EXACTLY alike! In fact you had to blink at first just to be sure you weren't seeing things, but no. Before your eyes was not one but TWO men that looked like carbon copies of Kyojuro with the only differences being ages. At the table sat a middle aged couple. A man whom looked like an older, annoyed version of Kyojuro and a woman with red eyes and black hair. Standing next to the woman and eating cake was a teenage boy who looked maybe around fifteen (and also looked like a younger version of Kyojuro) and similarly dressed up as a dragon.

They all sat there but looked up as Kyojuro came in. He still brightly smiled as he greeted them. "Mother! Father! I don't think you've been introduced yet!" With a hand on your shoulder he happily gestured to you. "This is Y/n! She's Gyomei's new girlfriend and came for the party!" He then turned to you. "Y/n, these are my parents and my brother Senjuro!"

You chuckled. "I see the resemblance."

The older man grunted not bothering to change his expression or remove his head from his hand. Leading the woman to give him a sad glance before smiling at you. "It's nice to meet you. Are you my son's new lover?"

Well THAT was blunt. Your mind blanked a little bit at the question mouth opened slightly but Kyojuro only laughed her off. "Oh no. Nothing like that. She's only interested in Gyomei."

You made a mental note to thank Kyo for the save later and sighed. "H-He's right. I was actually just interested in the recipe for the punch you made." Your cup was held up. "It's actually really good."

Her smile widened slightly wider. "Oh? Why thank you. It's a family recipe."

"Are you a cook then?"

"Actually I teach calligraphy at my youngest's school." She smiled at the man next to her. "And Shinjuro runs a dojo."

"You mean USED to run a dojo," the man grunted out still not bothering to look up from the table.

Immediately the air shifted to an awkward silence other than the background noises of distant talking and Halloween music. ..That is until Kyojuro coughed. "You still run it, Father."

"Not for long with the dwindling students."

"What do you teach?" The question escaped you before you could stop yourself.

The question got a surprised reaction from most everyone at the table, the man even bothering to look up at you slightly surprised but soon reverted back to that grumpy expression again. "Tch. Why do you want to know?"

You shrugged. "Curious is all."

A bushy black brow rose at you looking you up and down before he grunted and rolled his eyes. "Self defense. I don't even know why I'm here!"

"Because you need to get out of the house." Kyojuro's mother sternly but also softly said reaching out to give her husband's hand a squeeze. "Moping around isn't good for you. You need to socialize with people."

"What good would that do me? It's not as if anything will change."

"It might if you go talk and pass out the business cards we made together."

"Business cards?"

"Yes! Wait a second." Senjuro quickly paused his eating to look at the table and reached out to a decently sized stack of small cards you didn't notice before. He was quick to hold one out to you, which you slowly took. "Father teaches karate and kendo! One of his students even won the national kendo championships three years ago!"

"When I wasn't having bad luck." The older man's mumblings got worried looks and frowns from his family but you paid no mind to it.

The card was pretty standard. The presumed name of the dojo with 'Shinjuro Rengoku' written under it followed by a phone number and address. Presumably the phone number and address for the dojo. A flame design decorating the edges. Kinda reminded you of the cards your aunt would pass around promoting her matchmaker business.

"Senjuro. Why don't you go around and pass out the cards, Honey? Maybe it might stir up some business."

"Okay, Mom."

You looked back up just as Senjuro pushed past you heading back into the living room. Your eyes looked back up and back towards the huge snack of cards still there.

"Oi! Kyo, where's those dam treat bags?," Sanemi called out from the other room. "Ma's leaving and my sibs want their candy."

"Coming!" He turned back to you. "I'm sorry to leave you suddenly like this."

"Oh no. It's ok. I better get back to Mei before he thinks I ditched him." You politely bowed to the older couple. "It was nice meeting you two. Have a Happy Halloween."

There was a grunt from the man but the woman smiled. "Of course. If you ever feel like learning how to defend yourself please consider stopping by our studio."

"I will. Thank you."

Both of you left the older couple alone and left the room to tend to the other guests and to find your boyfriend before Gyomei came to find you himself worried. However you were bothered by something.

"Kyojuro." He turned to you with a hum. "Your dad seems pretty upset. Is he ok?"

The flamed haired man paused for a second before sighing and a rare frown graced his features. "I'm afraid lately things have been hard for him. You see my father runs quite a big business, but within the last few years that business has slowed down quite a lot. Fewer and fewer students have been joining." He forced himself to smile again. "But I'm sure things will turn back around in no time! Things always have a knack of sorting themselves out."

You hummed again taking another glance back towards the kitchen. "I see..I hope things get better for your family."

"Thank you, Y/n! That's very kind of you! Please excuse me. I must tend to Sanemi's family."

The hours ticked away as the sun went down and the sky got darker and darker. Later and later it got and slowly people started to leave if they weren't staying the night. One after the other with goodie bags or boxes up leftovers to take home.

"Safe driving! Thanks for stopping by!", Kyojuro called out waving from his doorway as Mitsuri bounced off to drive her parents and little brother back home. "HAPPY HALLOWEEN!"

Senjuro paused in his helping to clean up to gaze at his brother. "Was that everyone?"

With a nod the door was closed and he happily turned back to his brother. "Indeed! It was a fun night wasn't it?"

"Yeah! Do you think maybe Father will feel better now?"

A hum was given off. "We have to keep on the bright side of things. Why don't you take those dishes to the sink and clear the table? I'll get the broom."

Senjuro nodded before scattering off towards the kitchen. He was happy to help tidy up dropping off the dirty dishes into the sink before returning to the kitchen table to start picking up more dishes randomly left out.. Before he paused blinking at a specific spot upon the polished wood.

"Huh.. Didn't we have more cards sitting here?"

...He shrugged it off assuming he must've been mistaken or someone else already collected them up.

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m1ssunderstanding · 4 months ago

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Notes on Nowhere Boy

Finally posting the long version of the close-watch I did for @sleeper9's Fete zine. The bad thing about me is I hate spending money and love pirating shitty quality versions of movies. The good thing about the Beatles fandom is we're used to dealing with grainy pics. Anyways, here goes!

The opening ten seconds really do set the tone for the film, and here's why. It's the opening of A Hard Day’s Night where the boys are running from a hoard of screaming fans and George biffs it. John sees him go down, laughs, and keeps running. Only here, it's just John. George’s fall has been erased, making John into a cocky, if slightly insane, little lone hero.

Mimi: do I ignore you? No. So please don't ignore me. Me: ummm, yeah you do ignore him, Mimi. Enough to leave deep psychological scars. But it's fine. Moving on.

Ugh, Uncle George is so sweet! I wonder how much of John's sweetness he learned from him. I wish we knew more about him.

Actually that was Jim that set up a cord running into Paul's room from the radio downstairs. But it fits Uncle George's character, so it works.

Why did they make Mendips look a lot more working class than it actually was? No fancy iron fence, no pretty hexagonal outcropping, no stained glass veranda?

Aaron Taylor Johnson is nailing it though. The laugh sounds very John, and this posture? Perfect.

Okay but if that doesn't heartbreakingly encapsulate John and Mimi I don't know what does. Uncle George has just died. John goes to Mimi, wraps her from behind in a tight embrace and lets out a sob. Her response is to push him away. “Please, let's not be silly. If you want to do that, go to your room.” Alright, it's making me feel things, it's winning me over.

John making his cousin Stan go and ask Mimi where Julia is is also extremely accurate. Always had someone to do the dirty work for them, all of them.

Mimi's concern as John's going to visit his mother in the “bad” part of town is very good to have in too. “And you will be careful, hmm? Careful who you talk to.” And John's response, “it's only Blackpool, Mimi.” It's true. It could've been Speke, or the Dingle. Which Quarryman did I read saying Mimi didn't like John even leaving Woolton?

John's hurt little face when he finds out his mum, all this time, has been less than a bus ride away is a very clever way to show us his painful confusion about the whole situation.

Trying to remind myself that this is a very anti-Julia pro-Mimi movie that will try to make me think she's crazy. But it sure is doing a hell of a good job. She hasn't seen him in years and suddenly she's hand feeding him desserts, kissing him every chance she's got, flirting all over the place. “Do you know what it means? Rock and Roll? Sex.” “Don't tell Mimi, alright? This is our little secret. Promise me.” And to a poor affection-starved boy, that's going to feel good. That's going to put thoughts in his head like “this is how it should be”. I mean I know she was wild and fun and sexy and irresponsible. And I know John did have weird thoughts about her. But I hope she wasn't actually this crazy.

But the weird Freudian thing aside, he's got to be so terribly confused hearing the woman who effectively abandoned him declaring her love for him. Between Mimi and Julia, John would've had such a messed up idea of what that word meant.

The Daily Howl, my absolute beloved!!

Nowhere Boy John watching Elvis: damn I've gotta get the girls screaming for me like that! Actual John watching Elvis: he's so beautiful! He's perfect! I'm in love!

Also I do not think sixteen year old John was that good at fingering. Just saying.

This part always drops my heart cold into my stomach. Poor John. Poor poor baby. You can hear his little boy voice calling, “mum? It's me.” And she mutters, very annoyed, “go away.” Again. I have to remind myself that this is a purposely negative portrait of Julia. But then. It is true that she was a mostly absent and wholly undependable figure in John's life.

Sometimes dialogue is absolutely perfect. Like this – “Aw, why couldn't God make me Elvis Presley?” “Cause he was saving you for John Lennon.” “Aw I'll get you back for that, God!” And this – “you haven't told Mimi, have you?” “No point going through her bullocks if I don't have to.” “Why? She has to go through yours.” “Yeah well I never asked her to, did I?”

Ugh this whole movie just hurts so bad! How he looks to Julia as Mimi is ordering him out of her house, just begging her to claim him this time. And she doesn't until he makes a stand for himself. And then, later. “How long can I stay?” Is met with nothing. Not even a fake “long as you want, love.” It really plays into the title of the film. This boy's got nowhere to call home. And then, the final straw. Look at his face as he hears Julia agree that he does in fact need to go back to Mimi's. If I did that kind of thing, I'd actually be crying right now. Fuck, why was I knit-picking, this movie is working so well.

As he's announcing he's leaving Julia's, John wants her to tell him to stay. To at least pretend it's not what she wants. And she doesn't even look at him. Imagine if they did something like this in the John biopic mirrored with a scene with Paul in the breakup?

He's just so adorable looking at that guitar like he can't believe it's real.

John's gathered the og Quarrymen in the bathroom and Pete goes “I take it we're not here for a communal crap.” Idk Pete, wouldn't put it past him. It's not far off what you all do already.

It's making the Quarrymen look kinda cool here, and I really want them all to be shit except John, just because that's what I get from Paul's description. Not that he's biased or anything. He could've been watching John play with Elton John and David Bowie and he'd still say everyone faded into the background.

Also Mimi would Not have been there. Not on her life.

Okay now we're sort of seeing them from Paul's perspective. Bunch of losers surrounding this inimitable shining star.

Accurate that the first thing John says to Paul is about jerking off.

The dynamic in general is just so well-done in this first scene. John instantly testing Paul. How much shit will he put up with? And Paul instantly having none of it, showing off, and winning John over.

All the other Quarrymen just know it's time to dust off the ole resume.

But! Paul's fete “audition” is so toned down for this film. Although of course, accounts vary. He did 20 flight rock, yeah. But he also did it on someone's borrowed right hand guitar turned upside down. And he did little Richard and played the piano, and tuned John's guitar for him. In one telling of it, John says he asked him to be in the group right there on the spot. So. Yeah.

But either way, watching John watch Paul is just gorgeously gay. It's giving extreme “Oooooh, he likes hiiiiiim!” It's actually illegal not to queerbate using Lennon/McCartney and I'm glad all moviemakers seem to understand the law.

Cut to “John, your little friend's here!” Can you imagine if they'd showed the “chalk and cheese” whirling dervish moment? Or Mimi making Paul use the back door? Those might change some thoughts and feelings in this movie.

And then we get the reciprocated “Oooooh, he likes hiiiiiim!” Moment as Paul's too busy checking out John’s buddy Holly Look to remember where he is, let alone what cord they're on. And it's so sweet because Paul's the first person who gives John the idea that his real self is actually cooler than his tough-guy act.

The little matching feet tapping?? Eee it's so cute!

But why miss the opportunity for them to sing in harmony here?

Sometimes the dialogue is extremely inaccurate. “So mummy’s cool about baby Paul wanting to be Elvis?” “Oh she would've loved it.” Like hell she would've. She would've been as disapproving as Mimi. Then again, maybe it is accurate for Paul to be lying about that.

“Well she – she sort of – died. You know, em. If we're gonna do this we should write our own stuff.” Okay yep there he is. That's Paul.

Also love how John gets his first calluses after Paul the bossy taskmaster comes into his life. (You know. And the reason to push himself and a person who cares enough to take the time to show him things and it makes John all dreamy staring at the stars that night etc) Anyway. It's perfect.

And the first gig we see after Paul joins is in a venue on a real stage with a much bigger audience, and the matching suits of course.

Mimi selling John's guitar because of a bad report card is like the lighter, kinder translation of what happened in reality when she had his dog put down while he was staying at Julia's.

So they kinda make up for not letting Paul sing etc by having him nail the guitar instead of screw up at this gig like he did irl.

And he's stealing Julia's attention, which is clearly Not okay with John. Reminds me of that quote of Paul's about how they were both in love with John's mum.

George is appropriately infantile. Good. Cutie.

The Quarrymen playing “That's Alright, Mama” as John's making up with Julia since she bought his guitar back for him. Okay. Very clever.

Paul does Not like John disrespecting his mother after the show for obvious reasons. (“I said something wrong now I long for yesterday.”) But clearly he doesn't have the full picture here. I wonder at what point irl Paul got a full run-down from John on his messed-up family life. Or did he just have to pull it together piece by piece over the years?

And of course he jumps to light Julia's cigarette. Boy was patting his pocket for a lighter like it was the race of his life. Mister steal your mum.

Here we are, ladies and gentlemen, Paul McCartney’s number two complaint about this movie: John was Not taller than him. How dare they? Slander.

That's one hell of a jacket.

At the party, John's of course pissed to find Paul serenading Julia in the kitchen. But Paul just wants a mommy so bad, John. Why can't you just let him have yours since you clearly don't want her? Right, because you really, really do. More than anyone can understand. But when you showed her that – how bad you wanted her to be your mum, not just a friend – she hurt you. Forced you to go through your abandonment all over again. So now you can't show that anymore.

The washboard over Pete's head is almost exactly accurate, isn't it? John does not handle people leaving him well.

Ugh his little voice cracking on the word “mum.” John Lennon is a poor poor baby and I will die on that hill.

I wonder how John did find out about Victoria and the real story of why he was with Mimi. No matter how, though, that's certainly a lot of mess for a young man to be carrying around with him all the time in his head.

“When your father came back from the merchant Navy, he wanted to try and save the marriage, but your mother would have none of it.” I do feel like we're going with Alf’s version of events here, the one he sold John in order to get into his good graces after he was famous. Which is, again, not fair to Julia. I wonder how little Julia feels about this movie.

In fact, I think this part – “who do you wanna be with, John? Do you wanna be with me or do you wanna be with your mum?” – has been categorically disproven. But it certainly does make for some high drama. And John himself did believe his father's story, so there has to be at least some emotional truth there.

Nowhere Boy John: There's no point in hating someone you love. I mean really love. IRL John: How do you sleep, you cunt?!

There he is. Art School John. Though he fell in love with every iteration of John, I think this one never left his head because he was one of the earliest Johns, and he was a John Paul had to fight for, you know, with all the Stu business and dead mother anger.

He really does an excellent job of playing John, though, when he's written right. “Woman took her kit off and we painted her breasts. Not actually physically. I got my eye on you two.” Ridiculous. Charming. Off- putting. Adorable.

Ignoring the fact that I prefer to think of “Hello, Little Girl” as being about Paul (“you never seem to see me standing there”) and they're making it about Julia, this is a lovely scene. With John somewhat unsure still of his songwriting abilities and Paul looking up at him from the floor full of admiration.

Oh he's gonna murder someone. To be fair, I think playing Julia's banjo at her funeral is exactly the type of insensitive thing Paul would do, because he just thinks and feels in music and it makes Sense to him even though of course it's going to piss John off.

Hilarious, and probably accurate tbh, that Paul's pissed John off so he gives Pete a bloody nose.

But here we go, the number one complaint about this movie from Paul, which I think is actually valid. John never hit him and that was important to both of them and it's disrespectful to portray it and play into the myth of their rocky, angry relationship.

But maybe in 2009 that's what it took for them to be able to show John Lennon and Paul McCartney in a genuine, loving embrace, crying into each other's necks about mothers. It has to be preceded by John punching Paul in the mouth.

If I was John's writing partner, my biggest beef with this movie would actually be the scene where they're recording ISOATD and making it look like John wrote it and played the guitar solo. But Paul's never even mentioned it. Which I guess really shows he cares far more about the legacy of his relationship with John than his career legacy. Which. If you mean more to Paul McCartney than his fucking music? Well then you must be just about important enough to have your own movie.

This is really the Vote for Mimi Smith campaign, isn't it? Putting across the screen the fact that John called Mimi every week until he died as “Mother” plays in the background is brutal. Ouch. But it's true. “It's Mimi time.”

#paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #mclennon #george harrison #nowhere boy

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ladymarycrawley · 1 year ago

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Like father, like daughter - John Stones

Not requested but I've been woking on this piece for a while so there you go 💕 and dad! John is a weakness of mine so yeah (and it's quite long). Feel like dedicating this to queen herself @footballffbarbiex 🤍

Warning: pregnancy

Tag list: @prideofpd, @johnstonesfc, @chelsealover, @masonxomount, @kathb59 (cause she was eager to read it)

Pregnancy is seen in the collective consciousness as a blessed time, where a new life is growing inside of a woman’s body and everything seems good but most people only see the pleasurable side of it, ignoring all the cons these nine long months carry with them.

Of course there’s physical pain (back pain, swollen feet, morning sickness just to mention a few), that’s something concrete everybody can see. What’s more painful it’s the hidden part of this journey, the one that takes place in women’s head: embarking on such a massive change might be scary and sometimes fear overlaps with the joy of welcoming a new human being, overcoming it most of the time.

The most common worry is about not being ready enough to become a parent (as it’s the hardest job a person can do) followed by the difficulty of giving birth: how is it going to be? What will I do if something wrong happens? Will it be as painful as they make it seem in films?

All of this has an impact on mental health and stability, as all these fears may take a toll on a person’s mind and rely on the most disparate stimuli to give life to the most random scenarios…

"John I'm so scared"

"Of what?"

"There's people who like pregnant women but not in a good sense…"

"In what sense?"

"Like they find them hot and have a fetish for them, that's scary"

That what can be defined as one of the random scenarios mentioned above: that afternoon you were aimlessly scrolling through your phone to stumble upon an article about the most unusual fetishes and you happened to read about people who had the pregnancy kink.

"So what?"

"That's gross and what if these people steal my pics and do vile things with them?"

Your head started spiralling in panic as your hormones and your unstable state of mind was totally controlling you. Too many thoughts in that overworking brain of yours culminated in desperate tears rolling down your face.

"Your pics are safe and you look so sexy"

"I don't, this thing is insanely big and…and the other day you called me whale" You confessed to him as sobs were making you shake.

"Affectionately though, I'd never call you a whale to insult you…" He wrapped his arms around your waist "You're the sexiest, most beautiful whale ever" John whispered with a husky voice right into your neck

"You're fake, you're just mean"

"I'm not mean!"

The sobs were getting harder and your boyfriend knew the breakdown was getting serious.

"You'll leave me for some beautiful, hotter woman that'll give you no problems and you'll be cheating on me and I'll end up as a single mother and -"

"Hold on, hold on. Calm down and take a deep breath" John tried to calm you, stressing those encouraging words and trying to take deep breaths with you as to show you the priorities you should have considered.

"You're overthinking"

"What if something goes wrong? What if the birth doesn't go as planned? What if our baby -"

"Calm down"

"I've read a lot of stories of mums that had horrible experiences while giving birth to their babies and what if one of us dies?"

John blurted out his eyes in shock as fear and worry covered his perfect face as well.

"Don't even think about it. We're following literally what the doctor told us, I'm sure they'll do whatever it's in their power for your safety"

Your baby kicked in that moment, as if your worry suddenly became her own and she felt the urge to calm you down, coming to the aid of her dad.

You gulped and brought your hand to your belly as John’s eyes never lost sight of you.

He’d never lost sight of you, not even when you went through labour and you were holding his hand so tightly while following the midwife’s instructions, trying to coordinate your pushes with the deep breaths she was asking you to take.

You were trying not to think about all the fears that piled up during those months but it was so hard when all the contractions trampled over you so violently. He stayed there even when you were squeezing his hand so hard your nails dug into his skin, almost piercing it.

He was the antidote to all your nightmares: someone who stayed there with you, holding your hand through thick and thin.

John only left at nightfall and only after you insisted for him to go back home to sleep on a proper bed.

You were feeling like a done and dusted whale, all bloated and tired while he was there looking so fine, surely fresh out of the shower as the unmistakable scent of his aftershave tickled your nostrils.

The sight of him entering what had been your room for the last two days made your heart swell and the butterflies in your stomach soar.

The tiredness painted across your face as well as your swollen eyes made your freshly woken up expression evident and John couldn’t help but smile as your tired smile welcomed him.

"Hi"

"Good morning"

He closed the door behind him, approaching your bed and looking at the small crib where your tiny baby girl was sleeping.

"How are you? Did you get some sleep?"

"Yep…slept a couple more hours"

"Good" He muttered while pressing his lips to your forehead.

"And how is she?"

Both your glances fell on the product of your love that was so small she could easily fit in one of John's large hands and looked so cute in her blush pink bodysuit, stretching her little legs as she was probably busy dreaming something.

"She seems fine, we can't wait to go back home"

"I know…they said you would be good to go today"

"Yeah but they want to check in on us for a final check and then we can go"

"Okay" John was a bit disappointed he couldn't take his ladies with him and leave the hospital right away so he reluctantly nodded and got up to take you something to eat for breakfast.

"I want a giant chocolate croissant"

"And a giant cappuccino as well?" He asked with a smirk, knowing full well your taste when it came to what to have for the most important meal of the day.

"You know me so well" You exclaimed, happy with those small things that weren't small at all in your eyes; they meant the world to you as him and your baby were now your whole world too.

John smiled, a blush pink tint colouring his cheeks and lowered himself over your seated figure, balancing himself on the mattress with his hands, his lips busy pressing a kiss on your forehead.

"See? Everything went well, you're both doing great" He whispered, referring to your fear of something potentially going wrong during the birth, your biggest fear.

You smiled back at him, watery eyes full of weariness and emotions looked up at him as you moved your head to the side to press a tender kiss to his hand that was soothingly caressing your cheek.

“I love you so much. Both of you”

“I love you more”

That sweet moment was interrupted by a nurse who knocked on your room’s door to check in on you and Iris, as it was time for the last visit before discharging you officially.

John waited outside for it to be over, using that time to buy you the delicious breakfast you have been longing for.

He really hoped they could give you the green light to go back home because that would have meant everything was okay and you were perfectly healthy. So he prayed to hear the good news he was waiting for, to see your baby in that white wooden cot you spent a whole day choosing at the store, paired with that flowery pink bedding set his sister gave you as a gift and that had you crying as soon as you opened the box.

After fifteen minutes or so the nurse opened the door followed by the medical staff who welcomed your boyfriend with a smile, the doctor holding your file in her hands. She complimented John on your newborn and told him what he was dying to hear: you and Iris’s health status was good and you were ready to leave the hospital.

He thanked her and nodded when she gave him some quick advice on how to take care of them during the delicate moments following the baby’s birth.

After saying their goodbyes quickly John rushed back to your room with a big grin plastered on his lips.

"We're going home babies" He cooed, taking the duffle bag with all your personal belongings.

“Not so fast, Stonesy” You chuckled “Help me get out of this bed so we can get ready”

The City player giggled and helped you step out of the bed so you could stand up properly. The standing posture made you feel pain in places in didn't even know they existed and the grimace on your face told it all.

“I’ll take the baby and all her things while you put all your stuff in here” He said, directing his tall body towards the crib where his princess was looking at him with her blue eyes. “Yes baby, you’ll come with dada”

The moment you dreamt of a lot, that is to say John making his silly little voice to speak to your daughter, finally happened and it brought genuine tears to your eyes: funny how a small, tiny creature that you met for the first time no more than 72 hours earlier, that shared every single second of the last nine months of your life with you suddenly became the most important, priceless treasure you ever put your hands on.

You thought there were some feelings it was impossible to give form to and love was one of them, but you had to change your mind the moment you took her in your arms because you realised the human being you were holding was the embodiment of all the love you had for her dad. So some feelings, even the strongest one, had a shape and it was astonishingly beautiful.

“Oh I see you’re already taking the baby and leaving me with the heavy things” You mumbled, feigning being angry at him.

“You had her with you for 9 months, don’t be selfish”

“Me selfish?? Oh I’d have really liked you to carry her in your belly for 9 f-”

“Oi don’t swear in front of the baby”

You laughed seeing him all concerned and covering Iris’ ears as he was glaring at you. You shook your head as you slowly started to collect all your things around the hospital room.

“Give me my breakfast, I’m starving”

“See? Your mum has already changed and uses me as her butler and credit card”

His joke caused you to roll your eyes as you were trying to get dressed while dealing with your yet aching body.

You were in some baggy pants and an oversized hoodie because it was the only outfit you were feeling like wearing as John was there looking as flawless as usual even though his fit was quite simple: a pair of jeans matched with a gray jumper and a baseball cap on made him look hotter than usual. The child seat he was carrying with your baby girl in was making him even look like a real hot daddy and your heart was bursting with love. The right word to describe how you were feeling was blessed.

When you finally stepped foot in your house you sighed in satisfaction as you just wanted to get in your bed and cuddle with your new family in peace, eating some good junk food if possible.

“Home sweet home”

John smirked and carefully put the child seat on the floor so he could take Iris out of it.

“Welcome home, baby” He lifted her up to place her against his shoulder so her head could rest against it, as they showed him in the hospital. “This is your home”

“I’ve missed it so much…I think I’m going to lay down for a while”

Lying down on your own bed, on the bed sheets you chose, in the room you shared with the man of your life gave you that much needed home feeling.

You closed your eyes in the attempt to relax but the level of weariness, of emotions you had experienced recently didn’t make it any easier for you to sleep a little.

"Ok so I'm gonna go"

"I don't wanna see anyone" You mumbled when John finally entered your room, cradling Iris in his arms. When he looked down at her to see she was asleep, he put her in the wooden cot right next to your bed.

He couldn’t help but smile: that sight was the closest to perfection he had ever seen, as that piece of furniture that had been empty for all those past weeks was now full as it should have been, hosting the most important treasure ever.

"Not you, idiot. I just wanna see you and our baby" You grumbled as your voice came out feebly due to your state of tiredness.

John smiled and was about to sit next to you on the bed as your phone started ringing, much to your dismay. You groaned in annoyance.

"Who the fuck is now?"

"Your mum"

"Tell her I can't talk, I'm sleeping"

He nodded and swiped on the screen to do as he was told. You knew your mum was dying to talk to you, to make sure you were doing okay but you just wanted to enjoy the peace of the moment and keep that special moment for you only.

When he finished talking, he finally climbed on the bed and you soon were all over him, wrapping your arms around his body and letting your head rest against his chest with your eyes closed breathing in his familiar scent, the best fragrance in the world to you.

"Are you comfortable? Maybe it's better if you lay on a pillow"

"Nope, you're my comfiest pillow"

John scoffed with a half smile and kissed your head.

"Wanna watch something on Netflix?"

"Nope, too tired" You muttered, cuddling closer to his chest.

John's lips curved in a smile as he brushed his thumb against your right cheekbone.

He then scrolled through his phone, answering all the text messages the people he knew sent him ahead of your baby girl's birth.

"What are you doing?" You really wanted and needed to crack some sleep but your mind wasn't agreeing as the level of adrenaline in your body was still too high, plus you wanted to stay awake to spend some time with John and checking on Iris.

"Answering all the texts they've sent for Iris"

"Read me some" You wanted nothing more than to bask in the sweet words of people congratulating you, saying how beautiful your baby was and how strong you've been through all the process. After all you deserved all those sweet words: bringing a child into the world is something so brave people tend to underestimate sometimes.

John pressed play on a voice note from Kyle that made you both laugh, then read you one from Jack and at that moment your own phone rang with a notification and you asked John to check who it was from.

"It's from Sasha, she answered the pic you posted with "congrats you gorgeous mama"

"Aww she's always the sweetest"

"Well, you're everything but gorgeous now…"

"HEY" You threw a fist against his bicep with the little strength that was left in you. "I just pushed your daughter out of my vagina, you should be a little more grateful"

John loved getting on your nerves, making your thin-skinned side come to surface. He giggled, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear.

"I know I look awful and I stink as I really need to take a shower but I can't, I'm so tired" The whiny tone you pronounced those last words with was about to turn into a desperate cry but John took action just in time.

"You know I was joking" He took your face in his hands to look right into your eyes "I'd get you pregnant again right now if I could"

"Liar"

He laughed and kissed your forehead.

"I'll help you with the shower later on"

When your baby whined a little in her sleep the little yelp caught your attention as you both turned your heads towards the crib.

"There's the blanket over there, put it over her" You gestured for him to take the pink honeycomb blanket to cover your baby girl's sleeping body.

She looked so cute with that tiny blanketyou fell in love with as soon as your eyes took sight of it on the shop’s shelf and you had no doubt it would have been perfect for your beautiful baby.

“Can you believe we made her?” You asked John in awe as he was lovingly tucking her in. You got up to join him, encircling his waist with your right arm and putting your head against his bicep. "We made her teeny tiny feet, those little hands..."

“Yeah…you know what they say?”

“What?”

“Daughters tend to be more similar to their dads in the looks”

“So?”

“So if she’s beautiful that’s all thanks to me... even Kyle said it”

Another thing the collective consciousness ignored was the post pregnancy period: the danger of post-pregnancy depression was real but you knew you had the most handsome dad in the world who would have helped you along the path, even when the downs would have outnumbered the ups.

“Yeah Stones…I think you and your friend need some sleep too…you’re hallucinating”

And no, you weren't upset at all: you only wished for your daughter to be the carbon copy of her amazing father. So you hoped deep down your heart the Kyle was right.

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bhaal-battle-beer-bard · 6 days ago

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ᘀᘗ нօʟɖ ʍɛ աɨȶɦօʊȶ ɦʊʀȶɨռɢ ʍɛ ᘀᘗ

📸: by @aristenfromwarsaw

➹pairing: Astarion x female Tiefling Durge (my bard Tav Saulus)

➹summary: Astarion gets a little bit carried away while his midnight feast, but Saulus shows him how to take it slow and what other things they can do to spend the night together. A fluff – fest! Pure pure comfort!

➹content/tags: fluff, comfort, romance, emotional support, cuddles, so much cuddles, smuty flirting, bantering

➹idea: based on pinkberrytea’s wonderful headcanon,thx again,made me so happy

➹listening while reading, inspirational song

➹word count: 10,878 ➹ao3

➹dedication: @pinkberrytea thanks for the lovely hc about them, it was the whole inspiration for this, so this one is for you

@aristenfromwarsaw because every time you make a beautiful pic or gif of Saulus&Astarion it inspires me, but most of all it gives me the burning motivation to actually dare to write something about my Tav. Those mindblowing GIFs and other stuff just making me truly create a writing that I can put it into it every time. Hoping my writing deserves containing your creations. Thank you for making my inspiration bearing fruits through your pretty photography! These GIFs really gave me enough motivation, making me start to write this in the first place! 💛🧡💛

@alpydk I've had the feeling lately that you could use some fluff&comfort at the moment. Always remember: You deserve all the fluff&comfort in every aspect!

ɦσℓ∂ ɱε ωเƭɦσµƭ ɦµ૨ƭเɳɠ ɱε - 𝒜𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓃 & 𝒮𝒶𝓊𝓁𝓊𝓈

𝒜 𝒮𝒶𝓊𝓁𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝓡𝑜𝓂𝒶𝓃𝒸𝑒

"I don't know if I should see it as another curse, that there is hardly any suitable prey for me to find here in these Shadowlands, or as a blessing. After all, it allows me to drink my favorite drop from your enchanting neck so often," Astarion enthused, his voice as playful as a whole string quartet.

Even if it was a bit lost in Saulus’ deep neck, in which the vampire was already lost in anticipation.

"You know that it doesn't take a shadow curse to satisfy your thirst at me. Whenever necessary," the bard answered him, even though she knew that it was just another one of Astarion's wordy banter.

"Beware darling, we don't want you to become a bloodless degenerate. After all, this operation still needs your brain. As chaotic as it may be, you've come a long way and helped us out with your mouth so far very good... All of us, of course."

Astarion laughed smugly into her neck before he started again to spread kisses on the skin there.

That was the reason why Saulus had a harder time paying attention to his words and flirtatious teasing about her persuasion skills at the moment anyway. The way Astarion drank from her had changed considerably.

A lot had changed since the evening when the pale elf had approached her with a strange expression on his face and said that they had to talk.

They had finished off Yurgir the Orthon, so that Raphael could get more information about the pact that Saulusus had already translated. At least the part that was so cruelly carved into Astarion's back and that she had seen after their first night together.

After the encounter with the blood trader Araj Oblodra, the vampire had revealed to her even more about his past or much more the mental scars and traumas it had left him with.

He wanted to be honest with her from now on. Wanted there to be a "we" a “us” and they were more. They both had to find out what this might look like. Because until before the crash of the nautiloid ship, Astarion had not had the opportunity to decide for himself, to have something for himself.

But if there was a possibility of having a place in his heart, Saulus wanted to seize this opportunity with Astarion. He should think about what he really wanted. She, on the other hand, knew from the beginning that the sharp-tongued elf occupied a place in her heart and her whole mind, which she herself had liked to suppress until now. For what good were feelings and a heart overflowing with love, if one stood alone on the edge of a cliff? Jumping only made sense if you were caught and she didn't want to throw herself into the black, yawning, empty abyss of uncertainty.

Now every moment in which she could simply hold his hand already seemed so precious. Nevertheless, it still had to become clear how real this "we" actually was for both of them. How much of the night was left when the sun rose?

Even if the sun never rose at Moonrise Towers. Not yet.

The vampire's teeth brushed over her neck. Noticeable but not hurtful.

The weight of Astarion's body on her own was just as noticeable.

His skin cool on her own. But the longer they lay together, the warmer it seemed to her.

He took his time, didn't just bite her.

At first, the pale elf had taken off their clothes, because he said they didn't want one of the white clothes to get bloodstains. And when they lay on top of each other in their underwear, he didn't drive his teeth into her neck, but kissed it.

His teeth became more and more noticeable and Saulus curbed her shaky breath and hold it for a moment when finally his sharp fang cut into her skin.

"Careful, darling", he whispered in her ear again.

His right hand slid tenderly from her chest, over her collarbone, to her cheek, where his thumb lingered while his fingers lightly gripped the back of her head to gently hold her.

He held her like a lover, not like an undead animal that satisfied his bloodlust on her.

Finally, Astarion bit.

The tiefling bard sucked the air in a short sharp breath, at the pain that ran through her, grimaced under the pain until... until it stopped. The pain disappeared and she only felt Astarion's weight above her, his mouth on her neck and her beating heart mixed with his now loud breathing, his scent and the slightly blurred tent. It became a little unsteady in front of her eyes. But she perceived only one thing:

Saulus heard Astarion swallow, but much more she heard him moan into her neck. After every sip of her blood, which flowed down his throat like the nectar of life that he represented to all of them in the end, the pale elf expelled the air through his nose so as not to have to take his mouth off her throat.

The bard felt Astarion become heavier on top of her, pressing harder against her and his head burying itself even more in her neck.

A deep rumble slipped from his throat and every swallow that could have tickled her ear was covered with a comforting, louder "Mhhhhhhhh" that accompanied his unsteady, trembling exhalation.

The vampire's right hand drove harder into her hair, slid up to her forehead and briefly gripped the base of her left horn before his fingers buried themselves firmly in her hair.

The elf's weight was getting more and more on her and she felt him rolling his hips against hers.

"Astarion," Saulus tapped his shoulder.

"Ah," he exhaled with a comforting sigh after he had released his mouth from her neck with a slight smacking sound. Satisfied, he pushed the air out of his lungs, licked his lips to absorb every drop of the red.

"Oh darling."

Astarion wasn't done with her yet and his tongue slid over her neck before his lips kissed gently on the bite wound for a moment. After that, he kissed her collarbone and the left side of her neck still unusually stormy and firm.

"Could it be that you enjoy this a little too much?"

Saulus carefully put a hand between them and pushed the vampire back slightly.

"Huh?"

Astarion got up from the bard and sat up and only when she looked down at him demonstratively did he understand what she meant.

"Oh..."

His underwear, which had become a little too tight, showed that his midnight feast had torn him away a bit.

The elf just shrugged his shoulders with a grin: "It's hard not to enjoy it with you, darling. You know, slowing down isn't just quite my style. And your blood is just particularly delicious and aphrodisiac to me."

Astarion could grin as much coquettishly as he wanted and wiggle his leg, but the bard in front of him didn't seem satisfied with the answer. Because she wasn't either. She looked at him in silence for a few seconds before she asked seriously:

"Do you like any of it at all? I mean, we wanted to take it slow so you can figure out what you really want. Isn't it much more due to the consumption of blood from rational beings, no matter who it is?"

"Of course I like it. And there's no question about it with you," the elf assured her and straightened his back. He seemed to have noticed that he couldn't even smile away the topic quickly. Saulus was preoccupied with the whole thing. Everything he had said to her. She wanted to learn how to treat him in a new way. That this remained beautiful between them and never reminded him of anything from back then, as it had been with Araj.

"I've told you that before," Astarion added and raised his eyebrow a little. He probably believed that she didn't know this anymore.

Yes, he had told her it was different with her. Their nights had meaning and that he had been attracted to her, that she was beautiful. Nevertheless, his first impulse had been to use his body as a kind of pledge, to instinctively deceive her... What if he instinctively did something again that he didn't really want to do?

Emotionally, he had pushed her away so far, attracted her body. Now they wanted to do it differently. But just because you wanted it didn't mean it would work. Astarion had sounded so sure that night, desperate to tell her the truth, at any cost. No matter what it meant, she should know the truth. See how he really was. And at the same time, he had never sounded more insecure, so unsure and unkowing of what he actually wanted.

"Wait, let me fix this first" The pale elf reached for a handkerchief that he had carefully laid out beforehand and carefully pressed it onto the bard's bite wound before he took the Amulet of Silvanus, which lay next to it, in his hand.

"Te absolvo", Astarion spoke the spell of the Lesser Restoration and the wound had closed when he wiped the handkerchief over her neck again and then took it away. The blood loss had been compensated for and the dizziness had vanished and thus a conversation was more decent.

"Well, when I say it's different with you, I mean it. Drinking your blood is also unlike any other," the elf continued after he had sat back down, "being with you feels very different. It's beautiful. But I just thought if we slow down in the future, I won't act again... instinctive. I don't know what else someone wants in a relationship. So far, no one has ever wanted anything else from me. Always just own myself and use my body for their pleasure or advantage. I wasn't good for more."

A deep sigh escaped his throat and he looked down at the floor, "I wish it was easier that I could just be with you the way I want to. Without... without these feelings of my life so far."

"Can I make it easier for you somehow? Would you rather stay in distance from me?"

"These horns look quite cute and you can use them well to hold onto, but sometimes they seem a bit too heavy for your head," Astarion mocked and tapped her forehead and the cheeky rogue had returned to him, "otherwise you could think better and not spend time with dumb false fantasies. You took my words a little too seriously a few days ago or didn't understand them properly."

"Astarion... don't overdo it with your cheekiness," grumbled the tiefling like a hissing kitten and the elf just laughed amused, at the stubborn face she pulled. It was actually more endearing than intimidating. Even though he knew that it might not be a good idea to irritate her unconscious before going to bed, he was still sure that her conscious was so fond of her that nothing would happen to him.

Or?

The vampire leaned towards her and his ruby eyes sparkled cat-like as always, as if he wanted to jump. His lips against her ear did the rest, not to mention his murmuring voice:

"But darling, so far I've only ever gotten the impression that you enjoy my cheekiness very much. Not to mention..."

Her fingertips on his lips silenced him and Astarion blinked confusedly and was suddenly no longer a cat, but more the deer in the bright light. Saulus had leaned back and looked at him with a crooked smile and shook her head.

Grinning, Astarion took her hand from his mouth and nodded.

She didn't want to get involved in his games. He couldn't avoid a moment of honesty.

Why did she care so much about how she treated him and how he felt?

He would not necessarily have suspected this from someone who always seemed as carefree, nonchalant and cocky as Saulus. She had looked like fun. But with both of them, the fun seemed to have won over to seriousness. Only Astarion would have thought that his confession would change more in him and not in her. But her sincerity towards him seemed to have been correctly assessed by him from the beginning.

Someone who shined all over her face when she laughed and was thus amused by their common puns and her own sayings, recognized when someone only smiled with their mouth and not also with their eyes.

And Saulus had made it more than clear to him that it wasn't his looks and body that attracted her, but his mouth that interested her. The rest was a bonus. A wonderful bonus. But until now... it had always been the other way around. His presence had only been tolerated because of his looks or his words because of the promise of what his body could do.

"You seem to have taken my words a little too seriously. I didn't think you would," Astarion spoke before he made it clear again so that his little sorrowful little bracket could understand it: "No, I don't want any distance from you, actually not in any respect."

The vampire twisted his mouth a little and fished for the right words to explain it to her: "But don't you know that feeling that sticks to you? Even for a long time afterwards with people who have nothing to do with it? Have you never slept with someone before and regretted it afterwards?"

"Hmm... I do not know. Possibly, yes. I... I can't remember what happened before the crash," the Tiefling sighed deeply as Astarion looked at her expectantly with his head tilted.

"Sometimes I see it clearly in front of me: me on the stage of the tavern and above my scrolls. And then there's just this red curtain and this red noise in my ears. It all blurs as if it had never been real, but it also shows nothing of what should be real."

She shook her head resolutely with her black and red hair. "Never mind. Explain it to me, Astarion."

"I want to be with you in this physical way, feel and touch you. It has nothing to do with the fact that I don't want it and don't enjoy it. It's just... me and my body remember all the times with others that I didn't like. Of the bad touches that you didn't really want and then put up with. This sometimes only comes up in retrospect. I want to be with you in a different way than with the people before. Nevertheless... I don't know anything else than that. And I don't want to reel off my same scheme with you anymore, I'm afraid to do that. Because then I think of...", Astarion grimaced.

Saulus knew this expression from him. He always stepped on Astarion's face when he talked about his life with Cazador so far and didn't really want to put it in his mouth anymore. On the one hand, the pale elf wanted to forget it, but on the other hand, it never let him go. He himself could not let go yet. If it hadn't been until the second Cazador had taken his last breath. Even after that, Saulus wasn't sure if Astarion could let go. With Cazador, the pain and injustice would not be buried.

"I just want to learn to be with you – in any way I can – and free from bad thoughts about the past."

The bard smiled at him. They were nice words from Astarion. Honest words. She appreciated it very much when he could be like that to her. As much as she appreciated his exaggerated appearance and sarcasm, sometimes it made her angry when the vampire almost obsessively covered up every spark of serious thoughts and feelings.

Saulus wanted to give Astarion what he wanted. That was hard for her when she had to think around a thousand corners to see what he really needed for his peace of mind. Because very often people don't want what's good for them. And Saulus couldn't stand it if she did something that would really make Astarion angry or sad.

The vampire lowered his gaze and sighed slightly, "But maybe that's only possible when he's dead once and for all... for good."

Warm hands were suddenly on his and Astarion looked into the friendly smiling face of the bard, who had sat knee to knee, very close to him.

"You weren't touched the way you really would have liked and, above all, always with the aim of sex and not getting emotionally close to you."

Taking by force.

Saulus carefully put her arms around Astarion and pulled him into her warm embrace. He felt how she gave him time to relax and let his own body flow into her gentle form.

"Then just tell me how you would like to be touched, so that your heart feels me," her words glided gently and warmly over his neck with her breath, to which her living presence was so close at the moment that she only needed to whisper softly.

"I... I...", Astarion faltered and his gaze wandered restlessly through the tent, while in reality his eyes were turned inwards and searched within him for an answer, "... I don't know."

The blazing Tiefling eyes looked at him after Saulus had leaned back a little to see his now slightly cramped face covered with gloom. He was telling the truth when he looked like that.

"You're the first to hold me without hurting me."

The eyes with the small flames looked at him in astonishment. Saulus was surprised by his words... at least as much as they stung in her chest.

Astarion was honest with her. But there was also a lot of bitterness and darkness in his eyes, with which he had spoken the words.

"Just like you would be the first to care for what I want. You're the first to want to know what I want, what I really want."

It cost the elf’s self-control not to drop the topic immediately with a sarcastic line. Especially with the expression on the bard's face. This depressed compassion... Astarion was too bitter inside and therefore couldn't decide whether he should be grateful for it or whether he should hate it.

She shouldn't feel pity for him... but on the other side, she should. Astarion wanted for others to understand his pain, to see how the world for him was the last 200 hundred years. The problem was, that in his opinion, they would never ever understand. He was alone there, no one came to save him, like he once already said to Saulus.

No heroes, no blades, no nothing.

The vampire felt the bard's face nuzzling into neck. He literally felt the loving smile on her lips. Her arms held him very close to her again. Warm and protective, although he was actually bigger and stronger than her. Even though Astarion didn't feel that way.

Saulus held him close to her, as if she wanted the hearts of both of them to melt together. Perhaps his cold, undead heart would then warm up.

Astarion closed his eyes and lowered his head. He also felt her closeness and the warmth of her cuddly body.

It was quiet. It was silent. It was beautiful.

The rogue only heard her very soft breathing, the nature around the tent and the pounding of Saulus’ heart. At that moment there were only the two of them. He could breathe her life into his lungs, which she exuded lovingly. The scent of lily, jasmine, blackberry emanating from her hair enveloped his nose benevolently. The taste of lilac, pomegranate, cocoa, gooseberries and grapes of her skin was still on his tongue and impregnated his lungs with her perfume like the air he breathes. Her essence dug under his skin, into his insides and probably for a long time into his heart. Saulus had smiled her way into his heart. Radiant as the sunshine. Laughed and cuddled like daylight on his skin.

Her head kept rubbing against his neck like a cat, brushing his skin with her forehead and nose as if she wanted to bury herself even further in it. His arms pressed her closer to him more instinctively. As if he could show her the true thoughts of his heart with it, if only she were close enough to it. Astarion would have crawled into her if that were possible. Because when he opened his mouth... then at some point it came back, this panicked untouched fuss. It meant survival for him.

Even though he saw now that she and her blood meant life to him and apparently... she seemed to wouldn't let him go again neither.

Slowly, very slowly, they leaned back a little to be able to look at each other again.

"I want this. I want you. Until now, every day of my life was just... simply not mine. You keep going and going... you just don't know how to stop", explained Astarion with lowered voice.

Saulus nodded knowingly.

"I have an idea", she smiled with the friendly smile that had Astarion made believe that she might be naïve and that made him falling for her more and more, "what if we find out together what you like. If you want to. We don't have to of course, we just can be together like... friends. No touching."

"No don't go away. I want to be near you. It feels nice," Astarion snapped immediately.

A gentle smile settled on the Tiefling's lips in response.

"But promise me to let me know, when it stops feeling nice. It is ok. We both have to learn. "

Astarion nodded and looked at her almost expectantly. In fact, he was curious to see what she would do, what she could think of his liking and bringing them closer.

It was not an easy task for him to learn to feel his body again and to discover it for himself after all the years of abuse and torture. The pale elf was grateful that Saulus was willing to walk this path so patiently with him.

The silverhead sat down quite comfortably and leaned back on the cushions. Saulus was very close to him, so close that he not only smelled her perfume, but also perceived her soft breath and literally heard the beat of her heart.

"Just tell me, give me sign, when you don't like it. Don't perform no longer. No more. Ever."

"Oh darling, but I am so good at performing", grinned Astarion like a shark.

"Leave performances to me as bard," she joked back.

"Oh dear, but I am so much better at performing."

She openend her mouth in shock about that burn and then they laughed together. The Tiefling loved his sassy cheeky punchlines. They understood the sarcastic exchange of blows for what it was.

"Let me try this..." The two then pushed the jokes aside and Saulus gently put her hand against Astarion's cheek before her fingers danced filigree to his left ear. The tips of her fingers then breathed the hint of a touch against the delicate skin on the helix of his pointed auricle.

Saulus noticed Astarion holding his breath for a moment, while her fingers continued to stroke delicately down to his Antitragus and finally lovingly caressed his earlobe.

The elf closed his eyelids and sealed his ruby vampire eyes behind them. His shoulders sank back a little further, but he didn't move his head an inch.

Her index finger gently ran back the pointed arc of Astarion's ear helix, while her thumb and middle finger followed the same path and gently stroked the skin.

Finally, her fingers continued to dance over the tip of his ear behind the crus helicis over the tragus, then tenderly stroking the arch of the antitragus and tragus at the same time. From there, her delicate fingertips glided to the inner smaller arch of the anthelix and lovingly and caressingly traced its shape.

Astarion giggled briefly and shrugged his shoulders "That tickles"

"Is it good?"

"Yes, you can endure it. It's not entirely bad," he shrugged his shoulders and wrinkled his nose playfully unaffected.

"Oh... well then" Saulus took her hand away and leaned back a little.

"Hey!" Astarion opened his eyes wide and looked at her in protest. “No! Where are you going? Don't stop!" he grumbled immediately.

Grinning to herself, she shook her head briefly: "Good."

The elf immediately posed again and closed his eyes again and Saulus continued to stroke the thin skin of the scapha of his auricle with her fingertips.

Astarion's face visibly relaxed, and the Tiefling could see his lips curling and twitching when she touched a particularly tender spot. The breath of the vampire with the white curls was calm, very careful and when he exhaled he sometimes sighed a little relaxed.

Lovingly and gently, her fingers glided again and again over the shape of his ear: downwards and upwards - the fingertips or the sides of her fingers as if they were dancing on the surges of waves or playing the strings of one of her instruments, making them sound caressively.

As quietly as possible, the bard slid to his right side to give the same attention to Astarion's right ear.

Under faltering quiet breaths of Astarion, the Tiefling bard tenderly stroked from his ear slowly down to his neck. The flames of her eyes had fallen on the bite marks on Astarion's neck.

Another trace of his past. Another scar he wore. Scars that he himself never saw in the mirror. But... did they hurt him when he touched them? Because they hurt his soul?

Saulus wanted Astarion's body to belong only to him from now on. Only him alone. No memories of anything or anyone else. He should be free. Free to live. Free to feel.

Her fingers wrote a poem on his skin. Astarion sensed that. He could not understand and read the words, but he felt them. He felt her touch of silk, in his ears and the beats of his heart a sound of an unsung song, and on his lips the memories of the taste of champagne, strawberries, honey, cinnamon, and grape lemonade.

The words of a poem that he didn't need to understand, then the words of her caressing fingers caressing the contours of his neck, excitingly touching his carotid artery, that was a language Astarion understood best.

Her fingers deliberately danced to the bite marks on the right side of his throat to caress them attentively and massage them gently. Astarion twitched very briefly and hold is breath for a second, but when the Tiefling's lips rested on the skin of his neck, a short pleasant shiver ran over his entire skin.

Saulus’ lips lovingly rested on his bite wounds and began to kiss them tenderly.

Gentle so gentle.

Again and again her full, warm lips lay on the marks... the marks of his death and possessions. With the wonderful little sound of separating skin, her soft lips parted from his pale elf skin. Short cold and then again the wonderful warmth of her kisses.

All of a sudden, the bite wounds were no longer marks of possession, they were simply a part of his throat that was given wonderful attention.

And if it were up to Astarion, she would never have been able to stop.

He felt only her and he felt only the wonderful tenderness. The shiver and the pulses of electricity that she sent through his skin, his nerves, his whole body.

Warmth seemed to flood through him, as if her lips would breathe life into him with every kiss on his neck, on his bite marks, her life and new life for him.

The elf did not open his eyes once.

Even after Saulus had finished and looked at him expectantly, it took a few moments for Astarion to open his eyes again. A slight smile could be seen on his lips.

"I think this is something I like", he said.

"You think?"

"I am pretty sure. But don't imagine anything about the two of us, I..."

Again, the implied fingertips of Saulus on his lips silenced him. Her hand fell down, over his shoulders to his back, where she ran her hands up the ridges of his scars, over those lines of infernal letters. Carved into his skin forever.

Saulus looked at it perplex and wondering.

"What is it?", Astarion wanted to know.

"Nothing," the Tiefling quickly shook her head, knowing that it would only make him angry.

"What about my back?" the Vampire didn't let go.

"Please don't be mad at me," Saulus sighed and was already preparing to got scolded "but sometimes I just forget that the scars are there. I know you, on the other hand, you never will forget."

She already avoided his gaze: "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," he said after a while and the bard dared to raise her head again, looked surprised into red vampire eyes.

"You're the only one of us who can see these scars, and yet they never cease to surprise you. And yes, I will never forget that they are there. I always feel it. Now the question is whether I attach too much importance to them or you too little."

A slight shadow had returned to his face. His scars continued to be a painful issue. Just as everything that had some kind of meaning to do with Cazador was painful. But Astarion hadn't shut her out this time.

The bard's Tiefling eyes looked at the scars on Astarion's back for a moment, but there was no pity, no regret or anything else in her eyes and the vampire recognized that too. He wrinkled his brow questioningly.

"Lie on your stomach," she said so suddenly that Astarion still couldn't follow her.

"I begging you pardon? What for?"

"I want to try that you might get a different relationship to your scars. You feel them differently... just feel your body again. Would you like that?"

"And what do you have in mind, Darling?" asked the silverhead after he had already laid down on his stomach and blinked up at Saulus in anticipation.

"Do you prefer it warm or cool?", Saulus’ question left Astarion no less surprised.

"Hmm... well, aince my own body is always very cold, I would prefer warm, I would think," he answered her honestly calculated and the vampire continued to watch with a puzzled look as the bard began to rummage in her utensils.

"Relax, make yourself comfortable," he heard her say in his direction and so Astarion snuggled up in the pillows and blankets and just waited.

The bard returned with brushes, her ink and paint. In addition, candles and bowls - all of which she set up next to Astarion.

The elf with the white curly head understood more or less what she was up to.

"Would it be okay for you if I traced the lines? Maybe then you can perceive them a little differently. Associate something nice with it."

"So far, you've been right. Let's try it."

The head with the silver hair now rested on his folded arms. The lit candle lingered under the bowl into which Saulus dripped her writing ink from the vial before her hand hovered selectively over her brushes.

"Say right away if you don't like it."

"I'm not that fragile, my Sweet."

"I know that you are not a rose in the rain, bending until too many raindrops smash it and scatter all its petals into the storm. Nevertheless, I want to take care of you."

"Is someone poetic again and writes the next ballad in her head? When you write about me, give due credit to my fabulousness, yes? I mean, when you look so good, it's worth a few songs."

Saulus rolled her eyes: "Astarion... I hope you don't really believe that your appearance is your only quality. Because honestly, for someone who doesn't have a mirror image, he should concentrate on something else."

"Are you getting cheeky again?"

"Excuse me, but being cheeky is my quality if you drive me to do it," the Tiefling grinned challengingly all over her face.

"All right, maybe I really overdid it and annoyed you too much. Don't let yourself be disturbed. Keep going. I'll let you know if it doesn't feel good."

The slender bard fingers with the sharpened Tiefling nails reached for the brushes. She deliberately chose a brush with scrutinizing eyes and its soft hair soon nestled against Astarion's neck, his shoulder blades and on to his back, where she first began to stroke the lines of his scars with the velvet brush hair.

The pale elf was still shivering with delicate tingling and tickling. His whole scalp seemed pleasantly stimulated, down to his hind head and finally along the neck and upper spine to his muscular shoulder area.

The fine brush hairs breathed an extraordinary feeling on the smooth ivory skin, which immediately turned into exciting waves and tingling. As if you were being massaged with pure cashmere on your bare skin. So exquisite.

"Is that good?" the bard asked.

"Mhm," the white-haired high elf nodded, only resting his head on his hands.

The brush now dipped into the warmed writing ink and then found its tip again on Astarion's skin. The infernal letters were now neatly repainted by Saulus, point by point, stroke by stroke, line by line.

The tickling brush tip with the warm ink on his cool skin felt like a gentle electrostatic discharge. The feeling was not limited to the passages of the infernal letters that Saulus warmly traced. No, the sensation of the wave flooded Astarion's whole body.

"Mhhhhmmm," Astarion sighed pleasantly in between and turned his head a little, "Is that what you do in hell? Is that some exotic infernal sex technique you got from there?" he teased her again with his playful voice.

"You know very well that I have never been to hell. The lineage of devils and demons is so long ago. Even if I did, I can hardly remember anything and seem to belong somewhere else when I listen to the little cryptic that Sceleritas Fel tells. As we know from Karlach, the smell of hell doesn't leave you so easily."

"Sceleritas?" Astarion grimaced questioningly.

"The butler I told you about."

"Ah. The little bloodthirsty butler who whispers murder in your ear. But you don't seem to be afraid of him or hate him."

"No, I actually think he's quite funny with his hat and the way he talks."

"It's funny that no one but you have seen him yet, darling." A crooked grin adorned Astarion's lips and he revealed his fangs. "Really, sometimes you could almost think you're making him up him like an imaginary friend."

"Nobody saw me kill the bard either, and yet it happened," Saulus answers matter-of-factly but a little stiffly. The thing with Alfira hung over her and no one should think that she was a bloodthirsty lunatic. Something was going on, but she didn't know what because the damn butler didn't spit out a useful word.

“Oh, I’ve seen how you can easily take out an entire bandit camp in one fight. It's more than just real how great you are with the crossbows. But instead of talking about what seems more realistic, tell me what secret tiefling sex practices you have hidden from me so far. What else are you hiding up your sleeve?"

"Astarion!", Saulus reprimanded him playfully and laughed, "Stop it! Otherwise, I'll smudge the ink."

So the pale elf just enjoyed the brushstrokes with the warm writing ink again and actually began to feel his back differently somehow. At first it had been a little strange, but only the first few seconds. But after that he had relaxed, relaxed his head, followed his body, because the skin on his back had immediately liked the caressing, gentle strokes.

So Astarion perceived only Saulus, her closeness, her touches.

The warmth in the tent and the flickering and the scent of the candles.

"Does it bother you?" Astarion asked suddenly.

"What?"

"That my body is so cold..."

"No. When we're together, you don't feel cold, I think. If so, then pleasant. And even if... Maybe I have a flame of Avernus in me after all and I'm warm enough for both of us."

Saulus smiled lovingly down at him before she rewrote the infernal pact again with complete concentration. Because for her it was that: writing.

Just as she had been able to read it from the beginning. Read what Astarion hadn't seen and didn't know what it actually was.

"Cazador made you all believe that it was a poem, you told me," Saulus said after a while in the middle of it, continuing to trace the lines on Astarion's back with precision, as if she were being paid for it, "how about... if I really write a poem on your back. You know, to symbolically paint over it, rewrite it..."

"I can follow your great theatrical bardic logic, darling. Go ahead... if you want to write a poem about me to pour out your heart and confess your infinite love for me, don't force yourself. But if you write about me, then also mention my beauty properly," Astarion concluded in a speech as theatrically emphasized as always. A stage actor had been lost in him. He just couldn't resist to tease Saulus again.

She didn't like him making jokes about love. But Saulus knew what was meant. And unfortunately Astarion was right: she liked it when he teased her and made fun of her. Saulus lived for sarcastic verbal battles.

"Of course Astarion, don't worry. You don't expect the sunset to admire you back."

"Ha exactly," he grinned contentedly like the sunset until he noticed that she might not have complimented him after all. "Hey wait!", his face grimaced gremlin like "Am I the sunset or you with your writing?"

The vampire clicked his tongue and his eyes sparkled cat-like again: "Cheeky little pupp!" It was more a praise than a reprimand from his mouth.

Thus rolled off his tongue, everything was praise for Saulus.

The man purred like a cat and his voice was ecstasy turned into words.

Saulus smiled, which Astarion of course couldn't see. She had already written poems and ballads about him. All safely stored in her bard book. Tightly closed and a secret to herself. She wouldn't put it on his nose.

Especially after some of her scrolls of poetry that she had written for bard competitions she had always participated in disappeared after Volo came to the camp...

"Done," Saulus put the last point to conclude the paragraph of the infernal pact. But it wasn't anymore. She hadn't really read it either. She had rather painted for herself. She had looked at Astarion. His back. His scars. What they meant to him. What he felt, had felt.

And always just the hope that he could now feel something different.

Warmth.

Caressing touch.

Gentle guidance.

"Oh...", Astarion needed a while before he moved again and lifted his head up.

"Have you fallen into a meditative trance?" asked Saulus.

"I relaxed."

"So it was okay? Did it feel good?"

"I already said that I am open to your exotic little Tiefling secrets," the vampire grinned.

"Stop the teasing, Astarion!", laughed the bard about the incorrigible rogue.

"Give me a moment, before I clean you up, alright?"

So the vampiric elf made himself comfortable again, while the bard put her utensils back to her writing stuff. Then she soaked a cloth with water and slowly wiped the ink off Astarion's back again and then carefully patted him dry with a towel.

A giggle suddenly escaped the white-haired vampire's throat as Saulus’ nails lightly hit his sides and he rolled around on his back.

"Wait... there are still a few drops," Saulus said and grinned from ear to ear, trying to keep a laugh to herself.

The bard gently wiped the last drops of water from Astarion's skin that had run from his sides to his belly, while the white curly head giggled softly again under the gentle touches behind pressed lips.

"You squeal at least as much as the owlbear cub when you tickle its tummy."

"Pah! Not at all," snorted the elf.

"I'm sorry, of course not." The grin on her lips, which was difficult to suppress, took the credibility out of her words. Saulus briefly tucked a strand of black hair with red interwoven streaks behind her ear, before she bent down and breathed an apologetic kiss on Astarion's belly button.

Astarion's lips pressed together in tension as Saulus suddenly slid down and lay down between his legs. With an incredible timidity, her hands rested at the sides of his hips and rested on his pale, smooth skin.

Astarion's smooth, flawless elf skin. A skin that Saulus had often admired.

Because Astarion was everything she wasn't.

He was a High elf, she was a Tiefling... somewhere a descent from the depths of the hells and in reality... maybe even worse.

But she didn't think of that. That didn't count.

It only counted the present. Only him.

Astarion and her lips on his skin.

He sucked in the air sharply as her head sank below his belly button onto his silky soft skin. Lips that nestled just as softly on it left a warm and gentle kiss on it.

That was all that Saulus did all evening:

She touched him with such care, tenderness, velvety caressing.

Fondling, kissing.

It was never there in any way to arouse him or stimulate him further.

Only tender caresses.

Tensely and attentively, he watched as the bard leisurely loosened her lips in order to deliberately press them back onto his skin a centimetre away, so that no spot remained unkissed. Her filigree fingers always lay exactly next to where her lips had been before. An interplay as if she were composing a song on his skin again, which probably only she really understood. Because Astarion could only feel it.

Felt her kisses and delicate fingers breathe a blanket of silk onto his pale, smooth skin. It was so incredibly gentle and Saulus really made an effort because every one of her elegant movements was made conscious.

Astarion saw it when she returned to his navel and kissed down, how carefully she took care not to go too far with her head and lips.

And she kissed herself again up to his sides and her hands lay with graceful fingers, with pointed nails so gently to his sides that it glided like a gentle breeze. Her lips warm on his skin, her thumbs stroking softly his skin.

It was all so harmless.

Tame.

Good-natured.

Sensitive.

Careful. Affectionate. Tender.

All words Astarion did not know in his life.

He had always been an attentive, intimate lover, yes. But only to... well....the outcome was known.

But nothing had been peaceful and velvety like Saulus’ touch. Nevertheless, so intense and electrifying. Her lips kissing a trace just below his belly button and her hands following them like the moon following the sund.

Her fingers felt like the feathers of angelic wings. How could these hands, which had literally torn another bard to shreds in an unconscious trance, be so gentle and loving? It seemed almost unreal to Astarion when he thought about it. But it was so, and for him she was always much more his angel than a violent devil. Even if he wasn't stupid enough that he didn't know that you had to keep an eye on dark tendencies. Especially when dark inclinations were accompanied by strange, invisible butlers.

It was all a bit unreal how he watched her in her tender actions and tried not to be overwhelmed by this pleasant feeling.

A smile upon her face, a gentle brush against his brow and soft kiss on his forehead – and the Tiefling bard and the pale rogue with the undead eyes sat together like the night began.

She had finished her "spoiling program" and Saulus had very much hoped to have read all his signs and body language correctly, so she could only rely on him to be honest with her.

That Astarion had really liked it and that he would have told her if it hadn't been like that. She had to be able to rely on it. Because the thought that it was different... it really made Saulus sick inside.

He laughed at her because she his words too seriously? Well, just the thought that she could be like one of his victims, people he despised and had therefore seduced and taken with him, he had endured, yes that really turned her stomach.

That Astarion would ever again do something he didn't want, that he thought as little of himself as he had spoken of himself in the night, that he should have just bitten the blood merchant for the potion. She didn't want to hear that and never wanted to see the expression on his face again. But she didn't want to see any lies on his face either. She loves his theatricality. But not the overplaying and lying. And she had noticed relatively early on that something was going on with him that he was hiding, but she had ignored it because she had trusted that he would talk to her.

Saulus looked at him suddenly unusually serious, after they sat together again.

"I assume that you will be honest with me in the future. I understand that sometimes you don't know what you really want and what is good for you. I try to understand what is good for you so that I can avoid unpleasant things right away. 'Cause hurting you in any way is absolutely the last thing I want. I never want to be the reason you feel uncomfortable. I couldn't stand that."

"My my, look who is all lovey-dovey with me," Astarion's lips pulled up in a mocking manner and his eyes flashed under his sharp-tongued comment.

"Keep up talking like that and I'll think about it again and take it back," Saulus grumbled angrily and grimaced so that her Tiefling eyes sparkled grumpily under her horns.

"Haha, that's nothing you can take back, Darling," the pale elf just laughed and was visibly enjoying himself.

The more Saulus grimaced and looked like a cross between a stubborn cat and a baby goat, the more Astarion had to laugh smugly. He found her angry face only wonderful. Nay, if she did not aim a crossbow at one, or pluck her lyra strings to let loose a malicious spell, he would find her angry face only dearest.

Even though he had a hard time trusting, he could hardly believe that this woman would ever hurt him. Someone who had a fit of laughter when someone received a real insult, but had half tears in her eyes when he didn't want to cuddle with her and the owlbear, because the cub disturbed his meditation with his whistling at night.

"Astarion, I'm serious! I just want to take care of you and I also want you to take more care of yourself. It goes without saying that I want to protect you from injury in battle. But even so, I want to protect you from unpleasant things if I can. But I can only do that if you are honest with me and I know how you feel, how you really feel. Vulnerability is not a weakness," Saulus’ words became more and more vigorous and you could see that alone in her determined, dogged expression. She was damn serious and talked herself into a bit of a rage, because she believed that Astarion just didn't want to understand her. It wasn't a joke for her.

None of that.

She didn't find anything funny about it when it came to the things that depressed Astarion. And they did. Except that after his confession, the vampire immediately put his mask back over it.

"I just want to protect you from unpleasant things, whether physical or emotional. No matter from whom, no matter how. Because that's what you do, for people that you...care for."

Saulus bit her lip hard.

She had talked herself a little too much into a rage.

She almost said 'for people that you love'. She was just able to pause.

To speak of love now would definitely be too early, she knew that. That would overwhelm Astarion.

But since his confession and his question if she really wanted to try to have something like a decent relationship with him, he had opened the floodgates for her own feelings, which she had apparently closed so carefully.

Since Astarion had seen nothing in them but a little fun, she hadn't let it mean anything more to her. At least that's what she had said to herself. Perhaps she had lied to herself more than the vampire had lied to her, if she believed this herself. She had simply ignored as long as Astarion was around every day that it was his smile that she secretly got up for every morning.

After all, she had only been waiting to end this loose game after he had spoken to her. And you could only immediately and willingly commit yourself to someone if you were already in love with him. And she has been since the first moment.

Now that she knew that her feelings were not unrequited, they were not just loitering around somewhere in her heart and in the form of songs and poems. No, Saulus was well aware that she would do anything for Astarion. Absolutely everything. Because he meant so much to her.

"Keep spoiling me like this and I don't know how to return the favor," smiled the rogue mischievously.

"Since when have you been so selfless? Besides, I've told you before that you don't have to return the favor if I do something for you. I don't expect anything in return, that's not why I do it.”

"Oh... so you are always at my service without getting anything in return? Watch out, otherwise I'll become even more self-indulgent."

He winked and before the bard had any retaliation ready, Astarion carefully pulled Saulus by her hand to him.

"Come here..."

Saulus was about to say something and opened her mouth to counter Astarion's endless sarcasm of the evening, but when he pulled her towards him and spread his arms, she silenced.

Gently and kindly, the vampire embraced her in his arms. Astarion was always cold and yet Astarion was always warm.

The bard was probably almost as surprised as the vampire himself, a few days earlier when she hugged him during their conversation to show him without words that he was important to her.

It surprised her, because at that very moment it seemed to her, as if Astarion had forgotten what a hug was all these years ago. As if he had to learn how to do it again. After her initial surprise, Saulus snuggled into the hollow of his neck.

She felt him and inhaled his scent of bergamot, rosemary and brandy.

She stroked his skin with her nose and took everything from him deep inside her.

A hug could often be more heartfelt and intimate than sex. It was what you wanted much more, to be close to your partner.

Their hearts were close together. Astarion's undead vampire heart, which worked in its own way. In every sense.

Full of pain, hate, grief, envy, sadness, anger and yet still carrying the spark of hope and love within it. Still fighting. Always fighting. Always beating.

Next to it was Saulus’ heart, somehow forged in the fires of Avernus between Asmodeus and Zariel and perhaps even more between love, songs, flowers, blood and wine. Her head was as full of holes as it was full of songs.

All the touches...touches, caresses that didn't hurt. Nobody held him by force. Nobody held him close even though Astarion just wanted to get away, pressed him to the ground with a weight that he didn't want to feel.

No, he held Saulus close to him. Wanted to feel her body, her warmth, her closeness. He wanted to be held by her. Closer. Closer. Tighter.

It didn't hurt. It felt good.

It pushed away all the thoughts, all the memories of unpleasant touches.

Suddenly there was only her.

Her tender, loving, patient touches.

She was the first to hold him and touch him without hurting him and Astarion noticed that he wanted her to never let go.

“I may not be very seriously going through life: Laughing, joking, giggling, making love”, started Saulus to explain herself very sincerely to him, “but believe me, I will do and won't do anything for you. When you understand. Just say the word and I will burn down this world to ashes or lock myself up in a cage.” Blazing flames in the true Tiefling eyes of Saulus.

Not flames of Avernus, flames of sincerity. Her heart close to his chest, his beating yet undead heart. Brought back to life. More alive than ever, since he had known her. His cold hand on her warm dusk-gray cheek.

Nothing but truth in her expression.

She might actually burn the world down for him, or throw herself into the darkness…just to protect him. From others. Or from herself.

“Oh my dear, that we won’t my darling. Won’t we? If so, it is me that will lock you up in a cage.”

His charming voice whispered from his throat and was perhaps worse than any spell could have been. Confusing and possessing the mind forever.

“You worry about what you would be willing to do for me? That it makes you angry that someone could hurt me? Well, my cute little lamb, I'll only start to worry about that when you stop making hold to help and adopting every gnome that comes along."

"Tell me... what's it with you and gnomes?" Saulus raised a thin eyebrow and tilted her head. "Something happened, didn't it? I mean, this isn't the first time you've said something like that. Admit it... you don't like them because you had to bend down so low to seduce them and it made your knees hurt!"

Astarion had overdone the teasing for this evening and Saulus had finally had enough of not giving him a counterattack. After all, they both lived for taunting arguments. But they preferred it when they could fool others together. (Gale in particular had had to endure that many times)

"How dare you?!" Astarion stuck his chin up in the air insulted and piqued about her gnome comment. “Someone should wash out that dirty mouth of yours thoroughly.”

“Oh yes? And who should have the means to do that?”

“I know exactly how to handle bad girls, my dear,” the elf whispered in his seductive voice that was no less sweet than honey. His red eyes sparkled like an ocean of rubies, but also like a wild cat in the night. His lips now much closer to her face and her ears, his dashing smile on his elf face literally cut the tension to shreds again.

“Do I want to know?”

“Well…it depends…it depends on what you like and what you don’t like. But knowing you…you’re open to anything. Your fabulous screams should still be ringing in the ears of the priest of Loviatar,” purred Astarion.

"Or..." Saulus interjected and the Tiefling snuggled into Astarion's neck again, the tip of her nose caressing his skin, "...or we carry on with this."

The cold vampire was the warmest thing there was for her. The tent in the middle of the shadow cursed land like an enclave of light, love and warmth of heart. As if the light could shine from there into the whole world. Well, at least it illuminated Saulus' whole soul.

Finally, she laid her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed, her arms around him.

"I really like that," she just had to whisper.

"Me too," Astarion whispered back, his crimson eyes resting behind his lids with long eyelashes. His white curls rested against Saulus' head with black hair that was interspersed with red strands, making it look more violet.

Astarion didn't need his eyes to see her in front of him. Her silhouette was already burned into his mind's eye. A beautiful memory that hopefully nothing could take away from him. With his arms around her shoulders, he pulled her close to him and he just had to feel her.

Her closeness.

Her warmth.

Her affection.

All the love she showed him.

Patience.

Attention.

Her laughter.

Her nonsense. Her voice. Her music.

Her life.

Her life that she let him drink. Willingly offered.

The tenderness of her hands and even more so of her eyes. Her lips, when she sometimes said such incredibly lovable and sweet things that he couldn't believe how someone so cute and naive could still exist...or then again be so cheeky.

It was hard for Astarion to see that he deserved all of this.

200 years in the dirt.

Torture, dirt and humiliation.

Pure hatred. A circle of violence and hatred.

And suddenly he was lying here in the tent with this Tiefling bard, cuddled up together. Heart to heart. Holding her hand and not really knowing what to do with it.

With himself.

With her.

With all of this and the feelings.

So much had happened, so much in such a short time. That's how it was for all of them. Astarion was used to people always expecting things from him. But Saulus...she didn't expect anything that he couldn't give her. For her it was okay to just see what the next day brought.

So Astarion just held Saulus in his arms and let her hold him tight. Head to head.

Dream to dream.

Uncertain future to uncertain future.

Shoulder to shoulder.

Unsteady undead heart to unsteady pulsating heart.

"We should try to get some restful sleep anyway," the Tiefling remarked.

"Which is a difficult thing in these lands anyway..." sighed Astarion and the white-haired elf stretched, slid down and began to stretch on the bard's lap almost like a cat, "...with all the strange noises echoing through the darkness, nightmares are the only thing that nestle in your head."

The vampire snuggled his head into Saulus' lap, his eyes already closed again, muttering his words to himself and the bard didn't know whether he just liked to complain or whether he meant it seriously. Because Astarion seemed pretty sleepy to her, the way he had snuggled up next to her.

But...she didn't like the word nightmare. "How should someone get a good night's sleep or find a meditative trance that way," he continued to grumble.

"But..." suddenly one of the ruby-red eyes opened again with a crooked grin, "...maybe you have something up your Tiefling sleeve to calm my head and mind."

A knowing laugh accompanied Saulus' fingertips, which tapped over his forehead to his temples, then cheeks and finally carefully stroked his head, which Astarion snuggled contentedly against her.

Just as her hands carefully played around his white curls, a very quiet melodious humming gradually danced around his pointed elf ears. A melody slipped from the bard's throat and the humming made her chest vibrate gently.

As she stroked Astarion's forehead with her fingertips, lost in thought, and occasionally very carefully ran her fingers through the roots of his curly hair, her head and vocal cords remembered Alfira's song. The hummed Weeping Dawn glided through the tent.

"Are you humming The Weeping Dawn?" the elf asked in disbelief.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." he pulled her out of his thoughts and Saulus stopped immediately, "but it really is a catchy tune."

"Is that the real reason why you killed Alfira? Because you were jealous that she wrote such a beautiful song? Even if only with your help... and my present inspiring beauty of a muse, of course..." Astarion joked, grinning provocatively across his face.

"Definitely not! At least not consciously. I mean, it was an accident..." Saulus protested, but immediately pulled a face like a bear that had been caught with its paw in a jar of honey. Unlike Astarion, she didn't find what had happened funny at all.

“You sing much more beautifully than she did anyway,” Astarion shrugged his shoulders casually, snuggled up again and wrinkled his nose as a sign that he didn’t really care. Or that he wanted her to believe that.

“You think my singing is beautiful?” the Tiefling asked almost in disbelief.

"Which isn't difficult, after all she sang terribly. And yes, I think you sing very beautifully," Astarion whispered just loud enough for both of them to hear, but quiet enough for him to deny it again if she asked.

Saulus didn't mind his constant sarcasm. That was their way of dealing with each other.

A happy smile spread from her lips across her whole face at his compliment.

“Sometimes I remember a life as a bard. Music and performances.

It seems at least as real as it seems like a mirage.

And then there's this red carnage in my head and then emptiness. Nothing but blackness."

"Oh oh little love... You don't have to act even more mysterious because of me, I already like you," Astarion joked in his typical tone of voice for these kind sayings.

“We’ll find out more at some point.”

The elf snuggled back into her lap and found his perfect “meditation hollow” again.

“Sing me one of your songs instead, I’m sure I like them better anyway,” Astarion murmured with his eyes already closed.

“I don’t know. I think she did a perfect job with the song. She didn’t even need our help, the words were inside her the whole time,” Saulus had nothing but admiration for The Weeping Dawn.

“I want to hear one of your songs,” the vampire’s voice from her lap sounded a little clearer than before. His tone had become more nuanced. It might only have been half an octave lower, but it betrayed Saulus sincerity and he moved away from his banter, where you never knew how much of it was just for show and how much was actually meant.

“Gladly,” a gentle smile played around her lips. Her fingertips gently stroked Astarion's forehead and the Tiefling saw his lips and the tips of his nose curl briefly and he exhaled relaxedly. Her eyes wandered over the pale skin of his face, over bite marks on his neck.

The lids with the light eyelashes relaxed over his animalistic, crimson vampire eyes. A soft, melodic humming came from the bard's throat and remained behind closed lips.

And while her eyes looked at each of his curls, her fingers played between them as delicately as if they were the strings of her lyre. Saulus followed the wavy curve of his hair while she stroked his curls soothingly, as she had previously stroked the arches and curves of his pointed ears. Humming, she stroked Astarion's hair as if she wanted to play a duet with the waves of the sea.

The scent of the candle and her warm ink, paired with Astarion's own note, began to change. Saulus saw Astarion in her memory in the moonlight, his hair shimmering like silver, just like his words, even if the next morning they seemed like a deceptive dream that had disappeared into the halo. Her nose remembered the scent of leaves kissed awake by the bright morning sun. The rays of the sun that seemed to taste of her colors of orange and red. As if the forest had returned to her tent.

Her lips opened and Saulus began to sing the words to the melody:

„Follow me into the forest of honey golden lies

Your words like cinnamon but underneath there is a fire

Golden Dawn or is it an inferno?

Golden words blazing fire into my heart

Holding you is like holding onto a flame

Flames burning high

They say you can’t hold a flame

But what if we be both burning bright

With flames reaching the sky?

Nothing left than ashes there will be

For me all right, with you I will ever be

Dancing to oblivion into the midnight mess

The world it can forget about us

But our spark will never end

This hand will never get tired of reaching for the flames

Because holding you is all I ever will

Our flames burning high to the sky

Honey dawn

I am tasting on your lips

Forever dancing, forever burning

Sunrise of honey and cinnamon

Is it a golden dawn of your lies?

Or the start of our golden age?”

📷: aristenfromwarsaw

➹ a/n: I've been sitting on it since September.

But you know how I am: I have the dialogue and narrative perfectly in my head, but if I don't write it down right away and think I'll remember it later...of course I won't remember it later.

And if something gets lost, I get so frustrated that I don't do it at all.

And some of you know certain reasons that have come between writing 😅😵‍💫😅

As always, I am dying to know exactly what you think about it. 😬🫣😁

Even though this is supposed to be my pure hug&fluff fest fanfic, I still added a touch of head drama and worked on Astarion's trauma. Don't ask what's wrong with so many of us authors. Whenever I just want to write cuddly fics, my head screams while I'm writing "But how are they supposed to be happy and in love if they aren't first full of fear and doubting love and questioning everything? You can't be happy if you weren't unhappy before!" I don't know why that happens 😅 Readers, let me know what you think. Pure lovey dovey or emotional ballast and processing including good?

(One bard was harmed during this playthrough...sorry as always Alfira 😅)

18 notes · View notes

sweetkpopmusings · 6 months ago

Text

long for you (act two) | h. hyunjin <3

a/n: i've returned with the second part of "long for you!" this is potentially the longest section, but we'll see :^) also ah! if you'd like to be added to the tag list, please reply to this or send me an ask <3 pics not mine <3

♡ find all parts here ♡

content: fluff, romance, fake dating, angst, a happy ending | wc: 7.7k | warnings: mentions of food/eating, a kiss, some crying | pairing: nonbinary!painter!hyunjin x gn!writer!reader | requests: open

synopsis: y/n is a writer with a long-awaited, well-deserved career opportunity. despite the excitement, there’s one major problem: the publisher expects a modern love story, equally romcom-like and authentic, but y/n lacks the inspiration to write something worth reading. through a chance meeting with mutual friends, y/n and hyunjin bond over upcoming deadlines and creative blocks. before the conversation ends, they discover that the ridiculous plot of fake dating might just work to solve their inspirational dry spell.

act two: the lovers

“sorry we are starting with something so stereotypical,” hyunjin smiles sheepishly as you both slide into your seats with fresh drinks.

“it’s okay! coffee shop dates are a default for me, if i’m being honest.”

they nod, pleased with your answer, “well then, why don’t you tell me about some of your other defaults?”

“meaning?”

“tell me about the music you listen to on repeat, the shows you watch and rewatch, your favorite color shirt to wear, your go-to story to tell at a party…” hyunjin pauses, pink tinting their ears when realizing he’s starting to ramble, “should i give you more examples?”

you laugh, “no, i think i get the gist of what you’re asking. hmm, let’s see…”

hyunjin waits patiently while you gather your thoughts and find a good place to start. it’s always a bit intimidating when you try to figure out the perfect conversation piece for a date. even if you’ve talked with someone over text beforehand, a lot rides on the first part of yourself that you share, even if it isn’t anything particularly vulnerable. perhaps because you’re a writer, you’re always hyper-aware of impressions, specifically the first ones you leave on and have about others. with hyunjin, your nerves dissipated after you walked through the coffee shop doors and waved to them. this arrangement, fake as it is, lends itself to a real comfort from the very beginning. you are not there to impress hyunjin. you’re there to know him for the sake of knowing him, and he’s there for the sake of knowing you.

hyunjin remains engaged with each anecdote you share, reacting enthusiastically at the exciting bits and showing concern at the right times. they even ask follow-up questions, make silly comments, and write down some new content to check out per your recommendation. by the time your drinks are halfway gone, you realize you’ve been the main one talking.

“so, when do i get to hear about your defaults? it feels as though i’ve been talking your ear off this entire time.”

hyunjin smiles, “i haven’t noticed! it’s really enjoyable listening to you.”

a sweet silence fills the space between you as they smile from across the table. you feel heat rising to your face at the tender attention, but, thankfully, it dissipates when hyunjin starts to speak.

“maybe it’s cliché, but i feel like it’s only natural if i start by talking about painting.”

“yes, please! i’d love to know about how that became your focus in art and life.”

hyunjin grins, a visible spark appearing in their eyes, “contrary to popular belief, painting wasn’t the first artistic medium i tried. i actually thought i’d pursue sculpture. there was something about it being so tactile, you know? like being able to feel the artwork with my bare hands, it was like my body movements were a part of the piece itself. and, being a pretentious college student, i loved leaving my actual fingerprint as my signature on each sculpture.”

hyunjin rolls their eyes, and you laugh, “oh, don’t even get me started on the pretentious stuff i used to do with writing assignments in high school and college.”

“oh, we’ll definitely be coming back to that,” hyunjin teases, “but even with my dramatic flair, sculpting started to…not necessarily bore me, but become…mundane. it was as though i hit a creative wall. none of my sculptures inspired me anymore; nothing seemed to go right. changbin reassured me that it was probably just a slump–we all have them, creative or not, as he said–i just knew that it was deeper than that. i was always searching for something in my work, and it felt like i had lost it in sculpting. then, by a stroke of luck or fate or good ole early adulthood happenstance, i attended a painting class. i don’t even remember why i took that particular class. immediately, though, it was like i was on fire with ideas. i remember my friends having to force me to leave the studio and eat, shower, or exist as a normal human being,” they laugh, slightly embarrassed at their former self’s antics, “eventually i calmed down from that initial creative high, of course. the fulfillment and energy painting gave me lasted. even today, even right now while talking about it, i can feel the urge to sketch out new ideas. so, i guess this is a long-winded way of me saying that, after taking a singular painting class, i fell in love with it, and years later i still haven’t expressed all that i need to through it.”

you nod, gratefully absorbing all of the information hyunjin shared with you. you notice there was an electricity in their voice when he discussed painting, hands gesturing excitedly and precisely when discussing how painting made them feel. regardless of your relationship with the art form, hyunjin’s description of it made you want to give painting a go. if you were honest, something about hyunjin’s words left you craving the feeling of a paintbrush in your hand. their words are like magic, and you wonder if all the great painters before had ever spoken so beautifully about the practice themselves.

“that’s incredible, hyunjin. it’s obvious you’re in the right field.”

he giggles, tucking his hair behind his ear, “i’m glad you think so. i always trust the judgment of a fellow artist.”

you giggle in response to their wink, and continue, “if you’re willing, i’d love to see some of your work. i know i could look it up online, but i figured i’d abstain from an internet investigation before our first fake date.”

hyunjin laughs, “i really appreciate that, y/n. i promise i didn’t read any of your writing before this.”

you feel a wave of relief wash over you, surprised that you were nervous about the prospect of hyunjin reading your work. before you could dwell on that mini revelation, hyunjin speaks again.

“rather than just show you some of my paintings, i think there’s something better we could do.”

their smile is playful, and you can’t deny the butterflies that flutter in your chest when you imagine the possibilities of what could be going on inside hyunjin’s head.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sunlight washes over you, pleasantly warm and gently bright. hyunjin busies themself with the setup of the easels–small ones, so you both could sit comfortably on the picnic blanket he brought–and meticulously arranges the painting supplies. they hum a vaguely familiar melody, and your mind and body relax as you eat fresh fruit and sip homemade lemonade.

“ah!” hyunjin claps their hands together, “perfect!”

you give him a round of applause, which they respond to with a bow and thank you, thank you.

with two blank canvases in front of you, hyunjin asks, “do you know where you’re going to start?”

“hmmm,” your eyes sweep around the park, observing shadows fluttering in the shape of tree leaves and happy people walking and chatting down the park’s path, “ironically, i’m finding it hard to think of something when this place is so…idyllic.”

hyunjin sighs, more dreamily than in exasperation, “i totally get what you mean. maybe we can find a random prompt online?”

“what, like use a painting prompt generator?”

hyunjin makes a look of disgust, as cute and earnest as a toddler refusing vegetables, “no! i mean look for a list of prompts on tumblr or something and then choose one that sounds viable for us to complete on our date.”

biting your lip to prevent the instinctual smile that would erupt after a beautiful person says something like our date, you reply, “that works for me. why don’t you choose, as you’re the resident artist here?”

hyunjin agrees and gets right to work scouring the internet for the perfect picnic date painting idea. you busy yourself with finding the perfect playlist for your activity, which aids hyunjin in deciding on a prompt.

“how does painting the view from your bedroom window sound?”

“how do you know what the view from my bedroom window is?”

hyunjin’s eyes go wide, and they start shaking their hands frantically, desperate to dispel the thought of knowing anything about your bedroom, so you laugh and speak again before they fall too far down the rabbit hole, “i’m just teasing you, hyunjin! i know you’re not a creep who has previously snuck into my bedroom. that sounds like a perfect idea for our paintings.”

“phew!” hyunjin wipes imaginary sweat from their brow, “i’m glad we’ve cleared that all up. so let’s get started! let me know if you would like any tips along the way. i doubt you’ll need any, but i have made plenty of mistakes while mixing colors and choosing brush sizes to be quite the teacher.”

you both giggle at this admission and soon shout ready, get set, go! as you pick up your brushes. despite the racelike commentary, you both take your time. there is a calmness surrounding you, conversation sparse and ease abundant. much to your surprise, hyunjin asks for your advice a couple of times on their painting choices. you’re honored, which you tell them, and they only give you a look of confusion.

“what’s so strange about me asking for insight? you’re someone with a beautiful mind, and i’d be a fool not to appreciate your proximity.”

“you really know how to butter someone up, don’t you?”

hyunjin shakes his head, “according to changbin, i can only flirt unintentionally. it has to be natural; otherwise, i talk like someone who hasn’t had contact with another human in far too long.”

you laugh, not quite believing him, but you thank them for how they view your creativity. they jump at every opportunity you give them to discuss your painting, each time responding with grace and consideration. while you don’t spend too much of your time talking, you learn that everything hyunjin does with art is full of intention. that, you realize, must be what draws you in so intensely to their words and into the painting they hold before you.

“what do you think?”

hyunjin’s eyes are wide with anticipation as you scan every detail: the blue tint on the walls, the knick-knacks cluttering the desk, the dawn colors in the sky, and the two butterflies, mid-flight, just ahead of the windowsill.

“wow,” you breathe out softly, “it’s beautiful, hyunjin. i feel like i’m at home.”

they beam at your response and say about a thousand thank you’s in the span of about 20 seconds. when you show your painting, hyunjin takes just as much care in viewing yours. his focus is a little intimidating because of the ardor with which they examine your piece, but you trust that they won’t say anything too critical.

“this is stunning, y/n!”

you blush, a little taken aback by the passion, “you think so?”

hyunjin nods vigorously, “absolutely! i love everything about it. the textures, the colors, the items you included…all of it fits together so perfectly. sitting right in front of it makes me feel as though i’m safe from the outside world. it’s…serene.”

your head turns toward your painting, reviewing everything hyunjin mentioned, almost as though you’re looking for evidence of their claims. before your gaze can turn skeptical, hyunjin’s voice breaks your concentration.

“can i have it?”

you whip your head towards them, “huh?”

they gesture to the canvas beside you, “your painting. can i have it? i’d love to hang it above my desk, as an inspiration and a reprieve. i totally understand if you aren’t comfortable with that, or if you want to keep it for yourself, so no pressure! i just…well, honestly, i’d love to look at it and be reminded of today.”

you pretend you don’t notice the pinkness of hyunjin’s ears in hopes that they don’t notice the same flush on your skin, “um, yeah. yes! i’d be more than happy to give this to you.”

they nearly squeal with excitement and beg you to sign it. after your signature is placed in the corner, you hand it over to hyunjin. they stare at it lovingly, holding it with more care than you ever would have. after a little while, they look back up at you.

“why did you choose to paint the sunset at the very end, when there aren’t that many colors left in the sky?”

you can’t say that you thought it through before putting brush to canvas, but you pause before answering. if it’s for hyunjin’s curiosity, you’re more than willing to dig around in your brain for unearthed motivations.

“i think,” you start, not entirely confident but fully honest, “i think that i notice more of the world that’s right outside my room as i’m saying goodbye to the day. it’s like a transition from my public life to my private life, and, even though the night is only beginning, that time of day is when i can safely say ‘see you tomorrow’ to anything that isn’t in my home. that, or i just liked the colors of dusk better.”

you both laugh, and hyunjin sets the painting back on the easel before replying, “whatever the case, i’m honored that you’re letting me into that window of time with you. i’ll cherish this perspective, this moment, forever.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

you fidget with your clothes, tugging them to be sure they’re in exactly the right place, as hyunjin knocks on the door.

they turn to you and smile, “don’t worry, y/n, you look perfect.”

you smile back, now messing with your accessories, “thank you. i guess i feel extra nervous because i’m not used to going to things like this without felix or jisung.”

you feel a little embarrassed to admit that, but hyunjin shows no sign of judgment. instead, they pat you gently on the shoulder. the right amount of comfort.

“i know what you mean. you’ve got me though! let me know at any time if you need an escape. plus, i’m pretty sure felix will be here, so he can run away with you too.”

a giggle escapes your lips as changbin opens the apartment door, loudly greeting you and hyunjin.

“y/n! so glad you could make it!” changbin grins widely, beckoning you and hyunjin into his place.

as soon as you’re inside, changbin wraps his arm around hyunjin’s waist and places a kiss on their cheek. hyunjin laughs and wipes his cheek with the back of their hand, which earns a complaint from changbin.

“i love you, but i don’t want your cooties.”

“since when is it a crime to kiss the homies?”

“oh my god, changbin, you did not just say that,” a voice of disapproval chimes in from the living room.

you turn to the source of the voice and notice someone with long hair–similar to hyunjin’s, just lighter–and sharp features. before you even need to ask, hyunjin whispers jeongin to you.

“as in…?”

hyunjin nods, “yes, the jeongin who is ruining my life with his exhibition theme.”

jeongin turns his head so you can see him roll his eyes, “for once, our emo boy can’t come up with something heart-wrenching. i’m assuming that’s where you come in?”

he raises an eyebrow to you, more playful than inquisitive, so you nod, “yep! hyunjin’s muse, reporting for duty.”

you hear changbin laughing from the kitchen, and it grows louder as he returns with your drinks, “please, make yourselves at home! minho is almost done with the food, and felix should be here soon, so get comfortable!”

hyunjin guides you to the living room, and you catch a glimpse of minho working hard on the meal you’ll all devour far too quickly. yet another handsome member of the friend group–dizzying to think about how many attractive people are currently surrounding you–he also carries distinct features, particularly a sharp nose, and holds himself with certainty.

somehow reading your mind, hyunjin leans over to you, “don’t be intimidated. we’re obviously the hottest people here.”

you both snicker like schoolchildren, and you feel your shoulders relax bit by bit. felix’s arrival helps, especially since he engulfs you into one of his classic hugs the second he’s within arm’s reach.

“felix! you act like you didn’t just see me yesterday,” you chuckle, not making a move to break the embrace.

“yeah, yeah, i need to make sure your partner here doesn’t forget who comes first!”

felix sticks his tongue out at hyunjin, causing them to throw their head back in laughter. almost perfectly on cue, minho calls out to confirm that dinner is ready. changbin rushes around to serve everyone’s dishes, only being slightly micromanaged by minho. the conversation continues easily, while you all enjoy the graciously prepared meal. you learn not just about the new people in the room, but more about hyunjin: how they were in university, endless tales of their clumsiness, his affinity for painting flowers and portraits of strangers, as well as his never-ending love and support for those close to him. endeared only scratches the surface of the warm feeling growing inside you as you discover these qualities of hyunjin’s. if you were honest, you never wanted the conversation to go in a different direction. your heart was full learning more about the person at your side, and you were thoroughly entertained by all the faces he made when his friends embarrassed him. perhaps chasing the same warmth, hyunjin steers the conversation toward you.

“it feels a little silly to ask basic questions,” minho smirks, “hyunjin has already told us so much about you.”

felix giggles, “how could they not? y/n is the best.”

you smile at felix and then at hyunjin, who is trying to convince you that minho is exaggerating.

“i’ll only accept the best for our hyunjin, so let’s see if you really meet those standards, y/n,” changbin jokingly assumes the persona of a hardcore journalist, ready to get to the bottom of the night’s biggest story.

with that, hyunjin’s friends ask you question after question, sometimes starting with hyunjin told us about this, but we’d love to hear more from you in order to make hyunjin squirm in their seat. hyunjin’s adorableness reduces any anxiety or stress you would have normally felt when getting, for lack of a better term, examined by their friends. with him and felix on either side of you, you feel like you are in on the fun, not trapped in the spotlight.

“okay, okay, i think we can give y/n a break from the interview,” hyunjin puts their hands up in your defense.

changbin sighs, leaning back in his seat, “fine, but only because you asked, hyunjinnie.”

you could almost hear a collection of heart emojis coming from changbin’s mouth. it is funny how flirtatious he is with hyunjin, but you couldn’t deny a twinge of jealousy every time he made hyunjin blush. sure, you are fake dating them. but is it so out-of-pocket to feel as though you should be the one making hyunjin giggle, twirl their hair, and kick his feet? you make a mental note to ask felix that very question tomorrow, crossing your fingers that you were just feeling very committed to the bit and nothing else.

hours pass in the blink of an eye, and you only realize how tired you feel once felix mentions the time.

jeongin stretches, quickly standing up from the couch, “well, since changbin promised he would do all the dishes, i vote we all leave quickly so as to not hold him back from his chores!”

changbin yells in protest to no avail against jeongin’s mischievous grin. minho mutters something about “the kids” fighting again as he walks back to the kitchen. you hear the sink running and decide to invite minho to any dinner party you throw in the future.

felix checks his pockets to ensure he didn’t leave anything, turning to you before heading to the entryway, “would you like me to accompany you home?”

you shake your head, “no, that’s okay, felix! we live in opposite directions, and i can safely get home by myself. you go and get some rest!”

“who said you’re getting home by yourself?” hyunjin tilts his head.

changbin whoops from the kitchen, causing felix to laugh and hyunjin to quickly clarify, “i mean, who said that your partner wouldn’t make sure that you arrive home in one piece? it’s the chivalrous thing to do.”

“as long as it’s chivalrous and nothing more…” felix makes an i’m watching you gesture towards hyunjin.

you roll your eyes and wave goodbye to felix. within a handful of minutes, you and hyunjin are saying your goodbyes. hyunjin helps you to put on your shoes, and the two of you have almost escaped when changbin pulls hyunjin in for another kiss on the cheek.

“oh, come on!” hyunjin groans while changbin giggles in pure delight.

“bye, y/n! it was lovely having you here. you’re welcome back any time, with or without them!” changbin smiles at you.

you thank him, and minho, for dinner again. as you and hyunjin step into the hall, you are hit with another wave of tiredness.

hyunjin notices and drapes your coat around your shoulders, “let’s get you home, yeah?”

you nod, grateful that you don’t have to worry about staying awake to get home safely.

the two of you enjoy a comfortable silence as you make your way to your place. here and there, you share a smile, a knowing glance that both of you are quite happy to be there, together. there is a small pang in your chest when you reach your door, realizing that you’ll have to part ways with hyunjin now.

“so, i’ll see you in a few days for our next date?” hyunjin asks, hands in their pockets as they stand in front of you.

“of course! i’m looking forward to it.”

hyunjin grins. you start to turn toward your door, but you notice that they are staring at you.

“what’s up?”

hyunjin shakes his head slightly, as though they’re breaking themselves out of a trance, “nothing! sorry, i was just thinking about something.”

“care to share?” you raise an eyebrow, reenergized with curiosity.

their hand rubs the back of their neck, and they look down to the floor briefly, “i was running through the stereotypical goodbyes at the end of dates like this.”

you nod, only partially following their train of thought. they look back up at you, brown eyes soft yet focused. you’re not sure why, but you feel electricity in your fingertips beneath their gaze.

“in movies and books, nights like this usually end with a goodbye kiss.”

“oh, i see…” your voice fades, unsure of what to say next.

“we don’t have to! it just came to mind. probably an intrusive artistic thought. you know how creative brains live for the drama,” hyunjin jokes.

you laugh softly, somewhat halfheartedly, as you process what they said. you speak again, before they get too nervous.

“i wouldn’t be opposed to it,” you admit, “for the plot, of course.”

hyunjin’s eyes widen slightly in shock, but they nod quickly, “yes, for the plot! we should kiss for the plot!”

that sentence in particular earns a giggle from you, which relaxes hyunjin enough to take the necessary steps toward you. when you’re close enough to feel the heat radiating off each other’s bodies, hyunjin catches your gaze.

“are you sure?”

mustering up as much volume as you can–curse those big, beautiful brown eyes and all their charm–you respond, “yes, i’m sure.”

with that, hyunjin’s fingers delicately grace your chin, pulling you towards them. sweetly, like a hushed voice in a beautiful library, your lips meet. the kiss is quick, nothing too involved, but the sensation of hyunjin being so close to you, right beneath your fingertips, melts you in a way you can’t be sure that you’ve felt before.

when you open your eyes, you see that hyunjin’s are still closed, despite separating your lips a dozen or so seconds ago. the corners of your mouth lift, appreciating the innocent look on hyunjin’s face.

“wow,” hyunjin whispers, brown eyes observing you with a soft fervor, “thank you.”

oblivious to how much you’re blushing, you reply with a confident, “no, thank you.”

they smile widely, amused by the playful tone of your voice. judging by the look on his face, this is the best ending to the night that hyunjin ever could have imagined.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

stretching your arms and groaning, you remove your body from the position it had been locked in for the past couple of hours. you know the knock on the door was hyunjin–it hadn’t taken long for you to memorize what it sounded like for him to be near–so you do your best to open the door quickly and cheerily, despite your aching neck and shoulders.

“so sorry i’m late!” hyunjin exclaims, “changbin wasn’t letting me leave lunch, despite my insistence that i had a very important date to attend.”

you roll your eyes as you step to the side, letting hyunjin into your home, “are you sure you two aren’t dating?”

they scrunch their nose in light disgust, “i am certain. i love changbin, but we are not compatible partners, no matter what he may try to convince you of.”

you laugh, feeling a little more joyous at that admission than you probably should. hyunjin asks you about your day as you collect snacks to share, and he happily chats about anything and everything. whenever together, it seems as though neither of you would ever run out of words.

“so, are you ready?” hyunjin stretches their hands and wrists.

you nod, eyeing the stereotypical leather journal in front of them, “probably not as ready as you are.”

he giggles at the reference to the journal, “well, if i’m going to be in the presence of a real writer, i have to at least look the part, right?”

“what does that make me then, with my laptop on a metal stand in front of me?”

they hum, feigning deep thought before replying, “cute. it makes you cute.”

you scoff at the sly cheesiness, still having to turn your head in an attempt to hide the blush, “all right shakespeare, what do you say we get to writing?”

“i could never say no to you, y/n,” hyunjin replies with a sugary sweet tone and extra honey in their eyes.

with that, you two find your focus. after painting together, you suggested a writing date. admittedly, the suggestion came from your need to work on your novel as much as it came from the desire to spend more creative time with hyunjin. they, of course, jumped at the opportunity, clearly feeling just as fond of your painting session as you.

save for the low-volume background music, the sound of your keyboard, and hyunjin’s pen on paper, your home is delightfully silent. very quickly after hyunjin’s arrival, you make more progress than you had the entire day. hyunjin notices how in the zone you are, pausing their own work to appreciate your furrowed brow and fixed gaze on the screen. attached to the story unfolding in front of you, you’re not quite sure how long he has been observing you before you feel their eyes on you.

“is there something on my face?” your eyes flit to meet hyunjin’s before returning to the screen.

“just an admirable amount of concentration,” they chuckle, “though i’d hate to interrupt your flow, let’s take a quick break, yeah?”

you sigh, feeling the soreness in your wrists and back from vigorous typing, “okay, i guess we should.”

they’re obviously pleased as they sit up straighter, “yay! i think we deserve some treats, don’t you?”

you laugh, “i mean, i’m literally doing my job here, so i don’t know if that warrants a treat.”

hyunjin frowns, “everything warrants a treat! what do you want? a little bevvie? some food? it’s on me, so dream big!”

you laugh again, sweeter this time, “you don’t have to do that, hyunjin.”

he waves his hand in the air, dismissing your claim, “i do. you’re hosting me and letting me partake in your creative genius. the least i could do is offer you a snack or something!”

you can tell they won’t back down, so you agree to give them your order for your favorite restaurant. when the food arrives, you and hyunjin migrate to the living room, spreading out your spoils and turning on content you both love. it is casual and comfortable, wildly familiar despite this being the first time you two have had dinner like this. hyunjin says so themself, much to your delight.

after the plates have been cleared and the dishes have been cleaned, you two wind up at the table again, writing for hours and talking about random topics during your little breaks. eventually, you feel your brain wearing out, so you suggest that the writing session comes to a close.

“that sounds perfect to me,” hyunjin agrees, covering his mouth as he yawns, “was it successful for you?”

you hum happily, “yes! i can’t say that i made as much progress as i had hoped to, but i feel like i’m really fleshing out this story for the first time.”

hyunjin grins, “that’s wonderful! i’m so proud of you.”

your heart warms at their admission, and you ask, “how was it for you? come up with any masterpieces?”

they giggle, “i don’t know if i can call any of them masterpieces, but i did write some poems.”

“oh? you’re a painter and a poet?”

hyunjin looks away briefly, again tucking their hair behind their ear, “poetry is my favorite thing to write. i don’t do it very often because i’m not that adept at expressing myself in this way, but i enjoy the process every time.”

“expressing your thoughts with words gets easier with practice, so don’t discount yourself!” you reassure them, pausing to gain the courage to ask, “could i…would you mind if i read something you wrote?”

their ears immediately turn pink, but that doesn’t stop them from nodding and flipping through to a specific page, “here, this is my favorite one from today. please be nice in your feedback, for i am just a girl.”

you giggle at the last comment, and you graciously take the journal they place in your hands. the poem is short and impactful. in particular, you feel a few lines settling deep in your chest: a tenderness on fire / a lightness in your eyes / the unbearable closeness of desire / in the presence of your touch, in the proximity of your potential

“hyunjin,” you say their name softly, only loud enough for them to hear, “this is beautiful. your voice is captivating, truly. thank you for letting me read it.”

“you really think so?” their eyes linger on you, full of curiosity and wonder.

you nod, “i do. i can’t believe you wrote this while sitting at my kitchen table. i love it.”

hyunjin puts their hand on their chest, over their heart, “that means a lot, y/n. thank you.”

“of course,” you smile, slipping once again into a comfortable silence with them.

hyunjin accepts his journal back, and then fiddles with the page, “you can have this one, if you want.”

your eyebrows raise, shocked and excited, “really? you’re sure?”

they nod eagerly, tearing the page out before you formally accept it, “yes! i have your painting hanging by my desk, so it’d be an honor if you had my poem literally anywhere in your home.”

you laugh at their dramatics, gently holding out your hands to receive their beautiful words, “i’ll hang it on my fridge, so i can see it every morning, afternoon, and night.”

with that, hyunjin trails behind you like a puppy while you place the handwritten poem on your fridge, held up by your favorite magnet. you both smile, admiring the work in your quiet kitchen. the silence is only broken by hyunjin’s yawn, which they cutely apologize for. when you look at the clock, you realize how late it has become.

“oh wow! are you sure you’re awake enough to get home safely?”

“yes, i’ll be okay!” hyunjin assures you, walking toward your table to gather their things.

as you watch them move, you see their body sway with sleepiness in a way that emphasizes their natural clumsiness. there is no way you can let them travel alone, across town, in this state.

“hyunjin, please stay here tonight.”

they freeze, turning their head to you after a few beats pass, “are you–would that be–really?”

you fight the smile at their flustered response, “yes, really. i wouldn’t be able to sleep if i let you go home when you’re this tired. i probably have some clothes you can borrow and an extra toothbrush i keep for emergencies. you can sleep in the bed, and i’ll take the couch.”

“wow, y/n, thank you for caring this much about my well being,” they reply in an incredibly genuine tone.

your expression has to have been one of why wouldn’t i care about your well being? because they quickly speak again, “i just wouldn’t have expected my fake dating partner to be so generous with their home! no way i’m stealing your bed from you tonight, though. i will be sleeping on the couch, and that’s final.”

despite your honest efforts to donate your bed to hyunjin for the night, they truly won’t have it. you make up the couch while they get ready for bed, stepping into the bathroom yourself once they make themselves comfortable in the living room. you feel some nerves ripple inside you as you brush your teeth, but they verge on excitement more than anxiety. it’s strange, being so comfortable with hyunjin so soon. it could be the reduced pressure of your arrangement, or, more likely, it’s their good-natured spirit. you can’t help the warmth that envelops you as they wish you sweet dreams in a velvety, singsongy voice. you also can’t help the way your body sinks into the softness of your bed in an entirely new way, as though you have been introduced to a new kind of safety, a new kind of home that you didn’t know existed. you wonder whether hyunjin feels the same way too.

after a short while, you pad out to your kitchen to retrieve a glass of water. hyunjin sleeps soundly on the couch, blanket perfectly wrapped around them and hands folded under their pillow to prop their head at the perfect angle. you stare, enchanted by the soft curves of their slightly parted lips, hypnotized by the melodic rise and fall of their chest. standing there in your living room in the middle of the night, you discover that your fondness for the person in front of you has blossomed into something much greater than anything you would have expected weeks ago when you agreed to this fake dating venture. for fear that your gaze will pull them out of their slumber, you step back into your room, turning once more at the doorway to ensure they are still peacefully resting.

it doesn’t take much reflection to determine that you feel something special in hyunjin’s presence. though entirely unexpected and definitely not a part of the original plan, you know in your heart that you wouldn’t want it any other way.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

early in your “relationship,” you and hyunjin joked that, for a two-month anniversary, you should meet for dinner at a stereotypically romantic restaurant. both of you were people of your word, so it was no surprise when hyunjin made a reservation for a bistro in the area.

you decide to dress up like a movie character going to a date pertinent to the story’s plot–this may not be a proposal dinner, but two months into a three-month fake relationship certainly was worth celebrating. adorning curated accessories and the best outfit you could create, you happily stride to hyunjin at the restaurant’s entrance.

the space is bustling with people and conversation, but hyunjin’s greeting cuts through the noise with absolute clarity.

“hi y/n, you look lovely.”

you take a moment to appreciate their outfit–a simple trouser and button-up combo amplified by an embroidered blazer and statement jewelry–and reply with enthusiasm, “hi hyunjin, you look lovely too.”

he offers you a soft smile before guiding you through the front door. the host takes you to a table by the window, and you slip into your usual beginning-of-the-date conversation. hyunjin asks you about your day, tells you about theirs, and you laugh together at stories of your beloved friends doing dumb things.

getting the basics out of the way, you ask a question that’s been on your mind all day, “how is your painting series going?”

hyunjin lets out a small sigh, but quickly follows it with a smile, “i’ve made significant progress. i still have a long way to go, but, thankfully, i’m figuring out what i want to capture now.”

“oh, good!” you clap your hands, “i imagine the sigh was because of the stress? i know we are both coming close to the deadline.”

they take a sip of their water and nod, “yes, exactly. it’s difficult to appreciate creative breakthroughs when you’re hyper-aware of the clock ticking. how is the book?”

you grimace, “honestly…not as formed as i would hope, given there’s only a month left before i need to hand in the manuscript. the story is there, but i’m just not sure if i believe it, you know? and there’s the matter of the ending…”

hyunjin’s brow furrows, “isn’t it a guaranteed happy ending?”

“yes, thankfully i didn’t have to do the heavy-lifting of deciding whether the characters ended up together. i want to make sure, though, that the ending feels real. the lovers in the story are flawed. they make mistakes, they don’t always choose what’s best, they have big feelings and even bigger questions, and, ultimately, they’re realizing that they barely know anything about real love. i’m stuck trying to figure out how to grant them the gift of true love without losing the readers’ trust in my portrayal of the lived experience of loving someone. i think…i’m worried about whether people will agree that these characters have earned the happy ending.”

“if true love is the ending, then it’s not something they need to earn,” hyunjin muses, “i think everyone deserves true love.”

you let those words hang in the air, rolling them over in your mind. eventually, you smile at hyunjin.

“i’m not sure if that’s a conclusion i can come to naturally, but i think it’s beautiful that you have a romantic outlook on it all.”

they chuckle, “well, i’m sure that beautiful mind of yours will come up with the perfect ending, even if you don’t completely agree with my philosophy on the matter.”

after placing your orders, you both opt for quiet people-watching. the view of the city from that window feels intimate. just beyond a pane of glass is the world where you and hyunjin existed simultaneously before your paths ever crossed. while it’s probably the writer in you, you sit there wondering how many people could change each other’s lives, if only they were given the chance to meet.

the conversation is minimal throughout the rest of the meal. at times, you catch hyunjin watching you, only for them to quickly look away, seemingly embarrassed. you smile to yourself, unable to resist the cliché cuteness of it all.

after you catch them for the umpteenth time, you tease, “you know, if we’re fake dating, there’s nothing wrong with you staring at me.”

they laugh, tucking their hair behind their ear like clockwork, “i guess you’re right.”

“mhm,” you nod, leaning back in your seat, “what’re you thinking about when you look at me like that?”

hyunjin freezes, apparently caught off-guard by the question, “what am i thinking every time i look at you?”

“okay, maybe requesting an itemized list of your thoughts every time you look at me is a bit…extravagant, even for us,” you laugh, “so i guess i’m asking what you’re thinking of tonight, while you’re looking at me like that.”

he fidgets in his seat, and you worry that you’ve accidentally crossed a line into real-dating territory. you try not to scold yourself, at least not in the moment, because this faux-pas was bound to happen at some point or another, right?

you open your mouth to apologize for the weird question, but hyunjin answers, “i think we should end this.”

oh.

your mouth opens a few times before you can finally vocalize the only word you can think of, “what?”

hyunjin runs their hand through their hair, only to spin a ring on their finger over and over again while they speak, “i think we should end this arrangement we have. it’s been a lot of fun, don’t get me wrong, and i know we’ve both benefited creatively from it. i just think it has…run its course, you know?”

this arrangement. that phrase crashes over you like a tidal wave. you know it shouldn’t shock you because this is a fake dating arrangement. but it seemed that both of you started to treat it as something more. at least, that’s the impression you got with the intimate moments shared, the growing comfort between you two, and the abundant sweetness that surrounded you when you were together. sitting at this table and hearing these words, however, is an indication that maybe you were wrong. regardless, you can’t deny the fact that this has always been an at-will situation. if hyunjin wants to break it off, they can, no questions asked.

“i see…” you reply, hoping the pause wasn’t too long, “if that’s what you want, then that’s what we’ll do.”

“i’m sorry if this came out of nowhere. it must feel kind of random since i sort of…blurted it out,” they smile sympathetically, “i just think that it’s for the best. plus, we’ve both gotten what we needed out of this, right? i’ve gotten my paintings, and you’ve gotten your story. we accomplished what we set out to do.”

sure, you’ve gotten what you needed, but had you gotten all that you wanted? it feels as though there’s no use in asking hyunjin. if they wanted the same thing as you, they almost definitely wouldn’t have made the suggestion to end things.

“yeah, mission accomplished.”

you offer a weak smile, unsure of what to say next. a silence falls over you two again, signaling not comfort but the end of the conversation. you both simply have run out of words.

after saying the last thing you would have expected, after compartmentalizing everything you had built and secretly hoped you would never lose, hyunjin reaches out their hand, “no harm, no foul, right?”

choking back tears and mustering all your strength into keeping it together, you offer them your hand and reply, “no harm, no foul.”

hyunjin removes their hand from yours and quietly gathers their things. when they ask if you’ll be okay getting home on your own, you simply nod. hyunjin believes you, or at least respects your desire for space, so, with a small goodbye–not even a promise to see you soon–he walks out of the restaurant. instinctively, your eyes move toward the street to ensure they’re heading home safely, but hyunjin chooses to travel down a route out of your view. maybe that is for the best.

almost as though you’re the character in the movie you used as fashion inspiration, you lose track of time as you sit alone at the table. you know you need to go home, you want to get out of here, but you can’t figure out how to. when the waiter asks if you’d like more water, you shake your head and inform them that you’ll actually be leaving.

“i hope you enjoyed your dinner!” they grin politely.

“yes, yes, everything was great,” you lie.

“come back soon!” they call after you as you step past the threshold of the building.

you’re on the street. you’re standing where, only hours ago, you told hyunjin they looked lovely. how bitter it is to experience how much your world can change on such short notice. before you get too wrapped up in those thoughts, you will your legs to move, heading in the direction that will take you home. instinctively, you pull out your phone and call felix. when he picks up and says your name, everything falls apart.

“hey, are you okay? what’s going on?”

you sniffle, clear your throat, and beg your voice to do its job, “i don’t know, felix. i’m so confused. hyunjin…”

you hear felix jump to his feet on the other end, “did they hurt you? where are you? i’ll come get you.”

“no, they didn’t hurt me. well, not really. it’s,” a quick sob escapes your throat, muddling your words momentarily, “please come get me.”

“i’m coming. send me your location. i’ll be there as soon as i can.”

feeling comforted by the sound of his door closing behind him, you manage to say, “please bring jisung, too.”

“of course. stay where you are. stay safe. we’ll be right there. i love you, okay?”

“okay. i love you too. thank you,” you whisper, overwhelmed by the tears that stream endlessly.

after sending felix your exact location, you hide from the passersby against the corner of a building. with intense deep breathing and clenched fists, you manage to stop crying, at least enough for people to stop looking at you with concern.

“y/n!” two familiar voices call out to you from across the street.

you smile when you see jisung and felix running towards you, and that gratitude breaks your resolve, so the tears come falling down all the same.

jisung’s face is saturated with worry, “hey, hey, what’s going on?”

felix, eyes glistening with tears, wraps an arm around you to safely lead you home.

you stare at your feet, too emotional to look your dearest friends in the eyes while you admit, “hyunjin ended our…they broke…we won’t be seeing each other anymore. i don’t understand why, but…i think…my heart is broken.”

“oh, y/n…” felix laments.

jisung wraps his hand around yours and squeezes gently, “i’m so sorry. i honestly never would have expected this.”

“me neither,” you whisper, leaning even closer into felix, no longer distancing yourself from the truth.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

tag list: @velvetmoonlght @tirena1 (<333 tysm)