#some mild angst some comfort goofs

[trustymikh]

Submas thoughts in my head rn. help

[nerdallwritey]

Just to Ruin Me

Summary: “You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.” “It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.” “If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.” Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.” “Doing what?” “Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.” OR The morning after you spend the night with Astarion, you learn another thing or two.

Pairing: Astarion x f!reader Rating: 18+ Word count: 12.5k CW: smut, reader is new to sex, piv sex, vaginal fingering, dry humping, mentions of Astarion's past trauma, blood drinking, mild angst, soft Astarion, porn with feelings, reader is an idiot (and a bard), so is Astarion (not a bard, just an idiot), the other companions are also idiots, but don't piss of Shadowheart Spoilers: Minor spoilers for Act 1 (in-game dialogue, plot points, etc.), as well as Astarion's plotline Also posted to: AO3 FAIR WARNING: This is PART 2 in my series, "Beauty and the Bard." Find Part 1 here. Find the masterlist here.

a/n: Thanks to everyone who read Part 1!!! Your kind comments and encouragement spurred me to write Part 2 and I hope it's a sequel that lives up to expectations!! I know the summary is a little angsty, but I promise there's more banter to be had. Everyone is still a goof, after all. Please enjoy :) (Thank you to @kermitwazowski for beta reading!) As a reminder, the last part ended with the following few lines: “For now, you were content to sleep under the stars in Astarion’s arms. It was the best sleep you’d ever had.”

Taglist: @a66-1 @khaleesiofthewolves @khywren @lollipopsandlandmines @minestrones

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t the best sleep you’d ever had.

Though you’d grown accustomed to roughing it in the last few weeks since the nautiloid crash, waking up in the forest was still a shock. It had its charms, sure, like the fresh air and the breeze blowing in off the mountains, but the appeal was starting to wane. Especially after one too many nights of having to take a dip in the frigid lake next to camp to rid yourself of gnoll blood. 

This morning however, you found yourself surrounded by blankets and pillows from your camp in the middle of a clearing surrounded by large pine trees, all of which had been thoughtfully arranged by the figure trancing beside you. Your own sleeping figure sighed comfortably, unbothered by the lack of a mattress or a hot bath, just a nice deep sleep-

Astarion whacked you in the face.

Your eyes shot open.

“OW?” You scrunched your nose and blinked a few times to get your bearings. 

It was still dark. The forest around you was painted a delicate shade of periwinkle. You’d hazard a guess that it was just a little before dawn. 

At some point in the night, you’d rolled onto your back, away from Astarion, who was now curled to your right, his back facing you. He must have just rolled over, explaining the harsh wake up from his forearm. You smiled softly and instinctively brought your hand to rub your forehead where he’d made the unfortunate contact. 

Blinking a little more, your eyes were beginning to adjust. From this angle, you had a clear line of sight to the large scar that overran a majority of his back. You squinted in the dark to try and get a clearer view of the terrible thing, but came up short due to the shadows of tree branches being cast from above. Still just a mandala of jagged lines and brutal curves. When you got your hands on Cazador, you’d…

No.

No, that wasn’t your fight. 

But you’d be gods damned if you wouldn’t be there for every bloody moment Astarion faced him, giving support however you could. Though you had to admit that it would be so gratifying to corner the bastard and cast a quick little Otto’s Irresistible Dance… Assuming you’d be strong enough to cast it by then… Gods, he’d look so fucking stupid just before Astarion plunged a knife through his heart-

Enough. Battle strategies and sick, twisted (but satisfying) revenge fantasies later. Right now you noticed that the shifting of the shadows on his back wasn’t from a breeze shaking the branches above you, but because Astarion himself was trembling. 

Your first instinct was to reach out and touch him, but you quickly retracted your hand. Based on the short whimpers he was letting out, it seemed like he was having a nightmare.

How was one supposed to wake someone from a nightmare again? With Astarion you’d have to be extra careful; you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d stowed a knife somewhere within these blankets that he might reach for in a surge of waking fear. 

That… would not be pleasant. 

You shifted to sit up and look around.

Ow.

A dull throbbing made itself known between your legs.

No, that was great. Spectacular, in fact. You’d have to stop and assess later.

Gingerly, you got onto your knees and peered around at your surroundings. Astarion had done a decent job of cleaning up the clearing to make room for this blanket nest, so there wasn’t a poking stick to be seen within reaching distance.

Not that you were going to poke him with a stick… but the thought had crossed your mind. You were still tired! You’d been fucked for the first time last night! There was a lot going on! 

You shook your head to clear the stupid overlapping thoughts and set to looking around for a wayward pillow. You spotted one in the far corner and made your way over to it carefully but with some haste to end Astarion’s unconscious suffering. 

You crawled back over to him. And then backed up a little. Just in case.

“Astarion,” you sang quietly. 

Astarion continued trembling, but you heard him inhale sharply. A good sign?

You raised your voice a little, but kept the same musical cadence. “Astaaaarioooon.”

Nothing.

Okay fine. 

“Sorry,” you said quietly, then threw the pillow at Astarion, hitting him squarely on the back of the head. You leaned forward to grab your own pillow as a protective shield as he gasped and shot up.

“What the hells? What’s happening?” Astarion rolled onto his back and frantically looked around until his eyes landed on you. 

You smiled sheepishly and waved at him lamely from behind your pillow. “Hi.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes, confused. He shook his head, then lifted a hand to the back of his head where the pillow had hit him. “What did you do?”

“You were having a nightmare.”

“Oh, I know what I was doing,” his tone was sarcastic. “What were you doing?”

You looked down at your lap, guilty. “I couldn’t remember how to wake someone up from a nightmare.”

“So you assaulted me?”

“I didn’t know if you had a knife!”

“Why would I have a knife? What is happening?!” He sat up fully and brought a hand to his forehead as if he were in pain. 

“Are you okay?”

“Thankfully, I’ll live,” he opened his eyes and looked at you, his hand still on his forehead. 

You huffed. “I meant with the nightmare.”

Astarion sighed and closed his eyes again. “It’s far too early to discuss this.” He tilted his head up towards the sky, which was getting brighter with every passing moment. A practiced smirk appeared on his face and he looked at you once more. “I’d much rather know if you’re okay, darling.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

“We had a lot of fun last night, didn’t we?”

“Seeing as how I’m always a lot of fun, I don’t understand why you’re posing this question.” You looked down your nose at him. 

He hung his head and sighed exasperatedly. “Will you simply allow me to work my charms on you?”

You tutted. “Is that what you were trying to do just now?”

“Attempting to, yes.” Astarion crossed his arms. “I’m usually irresistible.”

You snorted. “Okay,” you said, a small smile appearing on your face. “I’m going to ignore your lack of an answer about your nightmare and will elect to wait until you’re ready to tell me about it yourself.”

Astarion pursed his lips.

“But go ahead,” you rearranged your legs, wincing mildly as you moved to sit cross legged, “charm me.”

A look of worry flashed over Astarion’s face when he saw you wince, but the concern was quickly overtaken by an all too self-satisfied grin. “Feeling it this morning, are we?”

You rolled your eyes. “I knew you’d be happy about this.”

“Positively delighted, my sweet.” He leaned forward and kissed you gently, bringing a hand up to your cheek. You brought your own hand up to lay against his. He pulled away and appraised your face smugly. “I was completely enamored by your performance last night.” You were about to open your mouth to say something, but Astarion interrupted. “Don’t even think about mentioning that you’re a bard and that of course you’re good at performing, or something like that.”

You closed your mouth. You were going to say something like that. Instead you said, “You were pretty good yourself.”

He brought his hands up to make air quotes. “I’ve ‘ruined you,’ from what I recall.”

You groaned. “I just said that to make you cum.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, my dear.” His face was still smug, but he motioned for you to come closer. You scooted forward and he lifted you slightly to sit on his lap. 

He leaned up and kissed you deeply, his tongue swiping your bottom lip for entrance. You moaned in response and opened your mouth for him. Though the rest of his body was cold, his mouth was warm and inviting, and you leaned in further to try and get closer. You wrapped your arms around his neck and tilted your head slightly to get a better angle. You’d been mildly distracted last night; had he always smelled this good?

When Astarion pulled back suddenly, you couldn’t help the whine that escaped at the loss. He hummed in satisfaction, and his voice was low and seductive when he spoke.

“Every part of your perfect body whispers temptations-”

You giggled. “What?”

“Shush dear, I’m charming you.” He cleared his throat, “-it’s as if the gods made you just to ruin me.”

“So now I’ve ruined you?” You raised your eyebrows teasingly.

“Wait, no-”

You leaned your forehead onto his and laughed. “And that one usually works?”

He blew out a puff of air. “You’re an unusual one, I’ll give you that.” 

You shrugged, pleased with yourself.

“But yes,” Astarion continued, “I’ve made plenty of previous lovers swoon with that particular line.”

“Show me what else you’ve got, then,” you challenged.

Astarion tilted his head in thought. “Let’s see… I can’t use the ‘cried from your lips’ line because I used that one last night…” You scoffed joyfully, mockingly scandalized that he’d already used a line on you. He met your eye and smirked. “How about this one: When I’m with you, I feel practically alive, yet I crave only to die again, with you.”

The sultry tone of his voice did send a pang of want through your body, reminding you that you were only wearing Astarion’s shirt and nothing else. You shifted uncomfortably. 

“How romantic,” you said, trying to keep your voice nonchalant. “I didn’t think you liked dying the first time.”

Astarion narrowed his eyes, sensing your deflection and smirked, looking down at where you sat on his lap. He rolled his hips, which made you inhale sharply. “I see that one did do something for you,” he leaned forward and kissed your neck. 

You exhaled slowly, “I blame that stupid sexy voice of yours.”

Astarion growled against your throat and you shivered, bringing your hands up to his back. 

“Astarion,” you sighed and he hummed in response, licking over the twin wounds he’d left the night before. You sat up a little straighter. “Wait.”

He immediately pulled back and looked at you with concern. “What is it?”

“I just thought of something,” you said.

Astarion raised his eyebrows and nodded, wanting you to continue.

“Can I borrow your fangs?”

“My-?” His tongue instinctively flicked over his teeth.

“Because I want to leave a lasting impression on you,” you tilted your head at him to show off the marks he’d left on your throat. You shimmied your shoulders a little for good measure. 

“I’m leaving,” Astarion made to get up with you still on his lap and you laughed loudly.

“No! No! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I wanted to try a dumb line on you, too!” You threw your arms around his neck and hid your face in his shoulder. You felt him kiss your hair.

“You’re lucky I don’t travel with you for your personality,” he joked. 

“I’d say ‘I’m a lot of fun’ again but I think you’d actually stop talking to me.” You pulled back to look at him.

“And you’d be right.” He kissed you chastely and then adjusted you on his lap. You winced a little again and he looked genuinely sympathetic. “I might have a way to ease the pain from last night,” he said. “Do you trust me?”

You smiled at him. “Yes.”

He smiled back. “Good.” He positioned your arms over his shoulders. “Hang on, my love.” You crossed your arms where they hung behind him and waited to see what he would do. 

Without warning, you felt one of his cold fingers slide through your folds. You hissed at the sensation and looked at Astarion. 

“Supposedly, massaging the area can help,” he was trying to sound knowledgeable, but the look in his eyes was one full of lust. Then he tutted, looking down. “You could be wetter, darling.” His thumb began to circle your clit.

Your eyes rolled back at the sensation, and you leaned forward again to rest your forehead on his shoulder. 

“Do you want my cock again, love? You took me so well last night, I was so proud of you,” he’d moved his mouth next to your ear and was speaking with the same sultry tone that he had a minute ago. You whimpered at his praise and rolled your hips to get his thumb to press you harder. Astarion let out a low groan. “That’s it, you’re getting so wet for me, you’re so good.”

After a few more tight circles, you practically sobbed when you felt him take his thumb away from your clit.

“Shh, shh, I know,” he cooed, “but we want you to feel better, remember?”

You let out a frustrated sound. “I already was feeling better.”

Astarion chuckled. “Trust me, would you? Impatient.” His tone was nothing but fond.

His other fingers began massaging the area around your entrance. You winced and bit your lip. 

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Fine,” you confirmed. “I assume this will get better?”

“That’s the idea,” he kissed your ear and you nodded against his shoulder. 

You rolled your hips, attempting to get friction where you needed it. 

“Just a little longer,” Astarion said, moving his fingers gently around your cunt.

You hummed an acknowledgement and kept rolling your hips, trying to combat this weird form of edging that was happening. 

Finally, Astarion ceased his massaging and brought his thumb back to your clit. You let out a long shuddering breath and squeezed your eyes tight, adjusting your hips to roll against his thigh. 

“There you go, my love,” Astarion said, voice still in your ear. “I’ll make you cum for behaving so well.”

You whined loudly as his thumb picked up the pace. You began rolling your hips at an equally fast pace. “More,” you whined, willing your climax to approach faster.

“Not right now, darling. Let’s give you a break there, shall we?” Astarion used his free hand to pet your hair. 

“But you asked if I wanted your cock again,” you whined.

“And while I’m pleased to hear that you’d like it again, let’s relax and get you off like this for now, okay?” 

You groaned but nodded, squeezing your eyes shut again and focusing on the pleasure Astarion was currently providing. “Harder,” you instructed.

Astarion pressed down harder on your clit with his thumb. He swept his index and middle finger through your folds, coating them in your slick. He quickly swapped those fingers with his thumb, changing the sensation by swapping one finger for two and adding more of your arousal to the mix. 

You keened and gripped his bicep. “Harder!” You instructed again, desperate and approaching the edge. You could feel the coil in your stomach preparing to let go.

Astarion pushed again and brought his lips to your ear once more. 

“I just thought of something, precious thing,” he murmured.

You blinked at him, your eyes unfocused and half lidded.

“More of a question, really,” he clarified.

You squeezed your eyes tight, nodding. You were on the precipice of your orgasm and could feel it fastly approaching. You slammed your hips against Astarion’s thigh as he continued to rub your clit brutally. 

“Do you believe in love at first bite?” He leaned forward and kissed your throat, then began to suck a new mark into the flesh there. Contrary to his pun, he wouldn’t drink from you without your expressed permission first.

It did, however, send you crashing over the edge. You moaned loudly, Astarion’s name tumbling repeatedly out of your mouth. The vision behind your eyelids was white and you reached out blindly to grip Astarion’s shoulders. His lips detached themselves from your throat and found your own. His tongue was immediately in your mouth, swallowing your moans and shouts of his name.

When you came down, you disconnected from the kiss and opened your eyes, a lopsided grin on your face. 

“Thank you,” you said. “I do feel better.”

Astarion smirked. “I knew you would.” He brought his fingers, still coated in your essence, up to his mouth and sucked them clean. You watched, mesmerized by the way his cheeks hollowed and his eyes fluttered shut. He pulled them out with a lewd pop. “Delicious.”

You felt your face flush, embarrassed by his display, despite just cumming in his lap. 

“You shouldn’t feel embarrassed about this,” Astarion said, reading your expression immediately. “What you should feel embarrassed about is the fact that you came because I told a joke.”

“I did not!” You protested.

“You absolutely did,” Astarion said. “And it was a particularly bad one, too.” He clicked his tongue. “You must feel so ashamed.”

You groaned. “I came because you started kissing my neck!”

Astarion raised his eyebrows, clearly not believing you. “It’s okay, darling, no one here was under the impression that you aren’t incredibly lame.” He gave you a pitying look, then kissed your nose and you laughed. He pulled back and looked at you fondly, a dopey half smile on his face. Then he looked up at the sky.

The periwinkle you’d awoken to was now vibrant shades of orange and pink. 

“Are you okay if I move you?” Astarion asked.

“Um… sure?” You weren’t sure why he was asking, and helped to move yourself off of him. You did feel a bit less sore thanks to his help. 

He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, then bent to pick up a rag to wipe off his pants. 

“Sorry,” you said.

Astarion shook his head. “Comes with the territory.” You were about to make a joke but he held up a finger and gave you a warning look. “Don’t.”

You held up your hands innocently. 

He tossed you the rag after and then your pants and underthings.

“Clean up,” he instructed, “then get dressed.”

You furrowed your brows, your stomach dropping suddenly. He didn’t expect you to leave right now, did he? He hadn’t fucked you last night, then brought you more pleasure this morning, only for him to send you back to camp like it hadn’t happened, right?

Astarion snorted. He was watching you as he slipped on his shoes. “Relax, darling, I see that face. I just want to show you something.” He held out a hand to help you up.

“Okay,” you smiled, soothed by the pleasant look on his face. “Do you want your shirt back?” You made to lift it over your head.

“Keep it for now, dear,” Astarion said. “I rather like that on you, truthfully.” The collar was slipping off your shoulder as you pulled on your pants, and you made no move to adjust it, opting not to put your bra back on yet.

“Do you want to wear my shirt?” you teased.

“Tempting, but I fear I’d look better in it than you do.”

“Excellent point, don’t do that.” You adjusted the ruffles on Astarion’s shirt and felt a light breeze on your cleavage through the lacey opening at the collar. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful,” he said. You looked up and caught Astarion staring at your chest.

You laughed as he cleared his throat, then gestured deeper into the woods with his head. “This way.” He held out a tentative hand and you took it eagerly, bringing the back of his palm up to your face to leave a gentle kiss. Astarion squeezed your hand slightly at the contact, and began heading further into the forest, away from camp. A pleasant silence hung between the two of you and you rubbed your thumb absently along the back of his hand.

It wasn’t long before the trees started to thin and you heard the sound of rushing water somewhere close by. You emerged from the trees to find a cliff overlooking a ravine below. On the other side of the ravine was more forest, and beyond that, you could faintly see the Sea of Swords. The sun peeked out over the horizon, bright reddish orange in the distance. Its glow was a welcome sight and you found yourself in awe of the view.

Astarion let go of your hand and sat, dangling his feet over the edge of the cliff. You hesitantly stepped forward and sat beside him, opting instead to sit with one knee up, the other leg crossed beneath it. Astarion sat back on his arms. The sun reflected off his skin in the most beautiful golden and magenta hues. His hair, somehow still perfect despite your night together, was being jostled lightly by the breeze. He’d closed his eyes and tipped his head up, basking. You couldn’t help watching him as you rested your cheek on your bent knee. 

He didn’t open his eyes when he said, “I try to come out here every morning.” 

You sat in silence, continuing to watch him as you prepared to listen to whatever he’d say next. 

“After two hundred years in darkness, you forget how lovely the sunrise is,” he said. “I don’t ever want to miss another.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine what that must have been like,” you said softly. 

Astarion hummed in acknowledgment and opened his eyes. “I’d catch glimpses while lurking around the city for too long before dawn, hopping from shadow to shadow until I made it back to Cazador’s manor.” His eyes didn’t waver from the sun in the distance. “But there were moments where I’d catch a glimpse of it over the Chionthar.” His tone became sardonic. “The promise of a new day emerging! Something that I would never get to participate in.” He sighed. “I’d linger as long as I could in those moments.” 

You nodded, picturing a hopeful Astarion hiding behind buildings and in alleys, trying to get a fleeting look at a phenomenon that occurred every day, one that you took for granted. Your heart ached for him. 

He continued. “I never quite told you what Cazador made his spawn do for him.”

You tried to recall what Astarion had said to you before. Only that he’d been made to go out into the city and bring back “the most beautiful souls” he could find. Then Cazador would make him either drink from a disgusting dead rat, or abuse him for refusing. The thought made you visibly shudder. 

“I know that you had to bring people back to-” you lowered your voice, as if saying his name might summon him, “-Cazador, against your will. And that he’d kill them.” 

Astarion nodded his head once, remorsefully. “I never told you how we lured them.”

You could see pain etched into his features. You reached out a hand and placed it on his shoulder. He flinched a bit at the contact, but settled when he looked over at you.

“You don’t have to tell me any of this right now,” you said. “A lot has changed in the past few hours and there’s no rush in sharing these things with me. I know how hard it was to talk about your past the first time.”

“It was necessary, though,” Astarion looked over at you, his expression determined. “You needed to know what we might be up against. And you might need to know this too.”

“If you want to tell me, then I’m happy to listen, but please don’t force yourself for my sake.”

Astarion released a puff of air from his nose. “You keep doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Asking me what I want. Letting me choose.” 

You cocked your head sympathetically. “And I take it two hundred years as a slave hasn’t really afforded you any choice.”

“Correct,” he sighed. “As a spawn, your vampiric master has complete control over your body and your actions. Even in moments where I wanted to defy or fight back, I was powerless to do anything.” 

Your heart jumped into your throat. You hadn’t realized that was how it worked. Having no control over yourself or your actions sounded like a complete nightmare and you were glad that you’d hopefully never have to experience it. Knowing that that had been Astarion’s entire existence for the past two centuries made you sick to your stomach. 

“I’m sorry,” you said, just as you’d said the last few times he’d shared glimpses of his past.

Astarion’s eyes were closed once again as he inhaled deeply, then exhaled. He continued to bask in the rising sun for a few silent moments and you watched as it slowly rose higher into the sky. 

“That nightmare I had,” he said, his voice coming out quiet, “I’ve had it before.”

Again, you said nothing and waited for him to continue.

“I actually had the same one the night you let me drink your blood for the first time.”

“Oh, please don’t tell me that drinking my blood was some sort of revenge plot against me for haunting your nightmares.”

Astarion smiled a little. “No, it wasn’t about you. It was about Cazador.”

“You know, I’m really starting to dislike this guy,” you said, knowing how difficult this was for him and trying to keep his mood up with another little joke. 

“You and me both,” he sounded tired. “In the dream, I’m in the forest. Cazador appears and recites the rules of being his vampire spawn.” He held up his hand and recounted them on his fingers: “‘First, thou shalt not drink the blood of thinking creatures. Second, thou shall obey me in all things. Third, thou shalt not leave my side, unless directed. Fourth, thou shalt know that thou art mine.’” 

You listened patiently as Astarion recited each rule almost mechanically. You scrunched your nose with each passing instruction and rolled your eyes dramatically when Astarion finished.

“What a prick.”

He smiled again. “With an archaic speech pattern.”

“I was going to mention his archaic speech pattern.”

The smile faded slowly as Astarion returned to his thoughts. “The dream ends with Cazador telling me I’m his forever. That I can never escape.” 

You let the words hang in the air for a moment. “And yet, here you are.”

“Here I am,” he said humorlessly. He laid down fully on his back, the sun high enough to bathe him completely in its glow. He rested his arms behind his head and angled himself to look at you. “I realized, if I could walk in the sun, what other vampiric laws could I break?”

You looked down at him, admiring the light glinting off his bare chest. “So you decided to test your theory on me? I’m touched.” You held a hand to your chest, pretending to be deeply moved.

“In all honesty, I thought you were the least likely to kill me if I got caught.” He smirked at you. “And it would seem I was right.”

“I wouldn’t have let any of the others kill you,” you said firmly.

Astarion chuckled. “How sweet. My brave little protector.” He reached over to pinch your cheek.

You swatted him away. “Hey, who saved your ass from a bugbear yesterday?”

He shrugged. “I would have been fine.”

You leaned forward and shoved him lightly, making him laugh and throw his arm forward as a shield. 

When his laughter died down, his face grew a touch more serious again. “When you so graciously assaulted me this morning, he’d just finished telling me rule number three; that I can’t leave him unless he tells me to.”

You thought for a moment. “Which begs the question,” Astarion looked over at you expectantly, “how did you end up out here? From what I recall, the sun was still out when the nautiloid reached the Gate. You didn’t have the tadpole yet, so how’d you escape?”

“I wouldn’t say it was much of an escape.” His eyes shifted up to the sky, his expression thoughtful. “I was looking for new victims for Cazador. It was dusk and I had just been given the order to go out and hunt. I was weaving through shadows, avoiding the setting sun, but there’s only so many places one can hide from a giant tentacle that won’t burn you to a crisp. One of the tentacles caught me when I attempted to flee down an alleyway. A complete accident.”

“If it helps, I tripped while running away.”

“Of course you did.” He sighed. “Figures it would take an alien invasion to finally free me from his clutches. Not some,” he waved his hands in the air, gesturing to nothing in particular, “heroic figure sent by the gods to save me and smite that horrible man down to somewhere further and more vile than the Nine Hells.” His hands fell ungracefully to his sides.

He wasn’t wrong. How could any god worth their salt claim to be holier than thou when such suffering was occuring right under their noses? And you were pretty sure, based on tales you’d heard of Mystra and Shar from Gale and Shadowheart, that the gods hadn’t planned for the nautiloids or the rise of the Absolute. Yet if it weren’t for any of that, Astarion would still be trapped in Baldur’s Gate and your adventure thus far would have looked very different.

“If I’d known, I would have done something,” you said, knowing it was more complicated than that, but still wanting to help somehow. 

“Darling, if I’d met you in Baldur’s Gate, I would not have hesitated to take you to Cazador.”

That hurt. 

You said as much. “Ouch.”

“Well,” he sounded angry, though he directed it up towards the sky and not at you, “I wouldn’t have had a choice! Sure, it would have been a little novel, given how inexperienced you are, but regardless, I would have handed you off to him as soon as I’d made you finish.”

Ah. So that was how he lured people. It made sense, now that you put the pieces together; Astarion was so experienced because he had to be. Of course unsuspecting victims would fall prey to the allure of an eternally beautiful vampire, especially the one laying next to you. Of course the promise of pleasure from someone that sexy would be the obvious thing to agree to. It was a wonder your paths had never crossed before the nautiloid. 

“Once,” Astarion broke the silence that had fallen between you, his tone distant, “in the first decade of my slavery, I found a darling boy who I couldn’t bear to bring back to him.” He finally looked over at you, his eyes full of sadness. “So I ran, instead of hurting that sweet man.”

You reached for his hand, then thought better of it. All his snide “don’t touch me’s” on the road now held a new, terrible weight.

“After Cazador caught me, the bastard sealed me, starving, inside a dusty tomb, all on my own, for an entire year. A year of silence”

A hand flew to your mouth. “Astarion…” you felt your eyes begin to prick with tears and did your best to will them away, fearing that they might make Astarion stop sharing.

He went on. “Months of scratching my hands raw, trying to carve my way out, more months of not moving at all. Months wishing only for death.” He took a deep breath, then blew it out shakily. “So no, I wouldn’t have hesitated, had we crossed paths.”

You opened and closed your mouth several times, attempting to find words that could possibly compose an appropriate response to the horrors you currently refused to picture. “I have no words,” is what you finally settled on, followed by an, “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing can make up for that,” he said quietly. “Not even Cazador’s death.” He paused. “Well, it would help a little, but the coward deserves a fate worse than death.”

“Can I hug you?” you blurted, unable to stop yourself.

Astarion blinked a few times, then sat up. “What?”

“I just… you’ve been through such hell and I want to hug you, but I don’t want to touch you without your permission.”

He looked you up and down and saw the sincerity evident on your face. “I… suppose.” He pulled his legs up from where they were still dangling above the ravine and turned to face you head on. 

“Thank you,” you said, still attempting to keep your tears at bay.

You leaned forward and weaved your arms beneath Astarion’s, hooking your arms up and placing your hands on his shoulder blades. You settled your face between his neck and shoulder and could feel that his arms were frozen rigidly in place in front of him. You took a shaky breath and stayed still, allowing Astarion to move at his own pace. 

His arms finally settled around you and he bent his head so his cheek rested against your hair. 

The two of you stayed like that for a while, relishing in the other’s closeness. You moved your hands back and forth across his back absently. When you caught yourself, you pulled back to look at him and asked, “Is it okay that I’m touching your back?”

Astarion chuckled softly. “Yes, my dear. It’s rather nice, actually.”

You smiled and nuzzled your nose into the crook of his neck. Seriously, did he always smell this good?

Despite the pleasant distraction, something was nagging at your thoughts.

“Can I ask you something?” you murmured into his skin.

Astarion sighed dramatically. “If it has anything to do with my fangs, I’ll rip your throat out.”

You snickered to yourself. “No, not another dumb joke, I promise.”

“Then by all means.”

You pulled back once more to look at him in the face. His eyes widened when he saw your nervous expression. You avoided holding his gaze, feeling a little small. 

“Do you… want to be with me?”

Astarion looked taken aback. “What?”

“I mean… well…” You were having trouble sorting through your thoughts. Who were you to make this moment about yourself when Astarion had just been so open with you? And why couldn’t you trust him in what he had told you last night? Still, you had to know. You’d made it clear how much you cared for him and how much sleeping with him had meant to you. 

Given his past experiences, it made sense why he’d sleep with you, but you wanted to hear him say it. If this was all some ploy to manipulate you into doing what he wanted, even without Cazador’s instruction, you needed to know now. 

“Was I… just another conquest?” you asked, your tears reemerging. “Because if that’s the case, then I think we should end whatever this is.”

Astarion’s face was now inches away from yours. He moved a hand from your back and shifted it up to wipe a wayward tear that had escaped. He said your name softly.

“No, my sweet,” his other hand started rubbing soothing circles into your back. He pulled back a little. “Well, yes.”

You scoffed, another tear rolling down your cheek. 

Astarion was quick to correct. “No, no! I mean, at first, yes, it was my plan to seduce you and sleep with you.”

You let out a small whimpering noise and he tried to catch your eye. You kept your gaze glued on something in the distance, unseeing.

Astarion cleared his throat. “You- You’re valuable; someone willing to feed me, someone who advocated for me to stay with you all, even though you knew vampires were dangerous, someone who would protect me in battle, even if it meant sacrificing something important to you.”

Try as he might to get your attention back on him, your face remained blank as you stared into the distance.

“I wanted your continued protection.” He shrugged. “Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in and I thought I could secure that with sex.”

That got you to look at him, a sour expression on your face. “Have you met me?”

Astarion chuckled. “Yes, I have. And that’s what threw me for such a loop.”

You humphed.

“When I realized you’d be more of a challenge, I modified my plan.”

“I don’t love the direction this is headed.”

“Stay with me, darling” he said, “I promise I’m going somewhere with this.”

You exhaled and nodded for him to continue. 

“I did want to give you a good first experience, that much was true, but I will admit that I was still planning on using you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “You realize how bad this sounds, right?”

“Will you-” he sighed. “Let me finish, damn you,” he brought his forehead to yours briefly, then pulled back. “So imagine how stupid I felt when I realized I genuinely felt something for you.”

That made you smile softly. 

He groaned. “And yes, it is because I find you to be… a lot of fun.” The last phrase sounded like it hurt coming out. 

Your soft smile transformed into one of smug satisfaction. “And when did you come to this conclusion?”

“Well first of all, look at you.” He smiled slyly and you playfully pushed his face away from yours, just as you had last night. After a moment, Astarion looked up, as if searching through his thoughts. “I suppose I’ve always found you to be amusing. You were so easy to fool in the beginning. I mean, the very first day we met, you thought I had one of those brain things cornered.”

“I had no reason not to believe you! And then you held a knife to my throat!” “Ah, memories,” he sighed wistfully. “But then we started traveling together, and I don’t think I’ve ever laughed more. Killing those goblins outside the Grove, fooling those trolls into working for us, taking out those Paladins of Tyr… you always had a sarcastic comment to contend with my sarcastic comments. Which is saying something.”

You snorted. “As if I wouldn’t have something to say.”

Astarion nodded. “You do talk a lot.” 

You chuckled softly, feeling better. Your arms were still wrapped around Astarion.

“It was when I kissed you.” His tone was thoughtful.

“Hmm?”

“When I really kissed you for the first time, there was something different about it.” His eyes flicked down to your lips momentarily. “Suddenly everything we’d been through came rushing back to my mind and there was this… pleasure I hadn’t felt. In an awfully long time.”

You smiled like a dope, bringing your forehead to his.

“I realized you weren’t going anywhere. And that you genuinely cared about what I thought and what I wanted.” He looked at you almost shyly. “No one in the past two hundred years has stayed.” Astarion pulled back and his inflection became flamboyant and playful: “Not that they had much of a choice, but it was a somewhat shocking revelation.” His tone then returned to one of sincerity: “And no one has cared for me as you have.”

You looked away, embarrassed by the kind words.“What can I say, I’m incredible.”

Astarion blew out a cool puff of air that tickled your face. “Annoyingly, you are.”

You looked back at him and smirked. “For me, it was when you asked me how I’d want to die.”

Astarion snorted. “Pardon?”

“When you asked me how I wanted to die on one of our first nights at camp. I genuinely had the thought, ‘Now here’s a guy who knows how to have a good time.’”

Astarion laughed brightly. You mirrored his grin.

“You said you wanted to be decapitated.” 

“How romantic of me,” he said, raising a seductive eyebrow. 

“Well it did spark the crush I’ve been harboring this whole time,” you felt your face heat up at the admission. “That, and your stupid beautiful face.”

Astarion sniffed mockingly. “Thank you, not enough people mention that.” Then he looked at you fondly. “But that long, eh? How adorable.” He rubbed his nose against yours teasingly. “And here you thought nothing would come of it.”

“Nothing usually does!” you exclaimed.

He laughed and leaned forward to kiss you once. “Not so loud.”

You lifted an eyebrow and gestured to the empty landscape around you. Astarion shrugged. You lowered your voice despite the lack of other people to bother.

“I am glad something came of it this time.” You settled your forehead onto his shoulder.

“As am I, my love,” he kissed your hair. “Though I have something else to admit.”

You pulled back and looked at him curiously.

Out of nowhere, he presented you with a knife.

“I did have a knife.”

You scoffed incredulously and whacked his arm. “I KNEW YOU HAD A KNIFE, YOU BASTARD!” You laughed loudly and pushed him backwards. 

He fell back onto his arms, laughing with you as you crawled on top and kissed him deeply. 

“Careful darling,” he murmured against your lips, “don’t move.”

You paused your movements, your lips still pressed firmly against his own. Astarion turned his head slightly to look over to his left at the treeline you’d emerged from not too long ago. You pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth and felt him grin. Then you felt his right arm come up and jerk slightly, followed by a “THUNK” sound off to your right. 

You waited a moment before you asked, “Can I move?” Your mouth was smushed against his face and your voice came out muffled.

He chuckled. “Yes, you can move now.” 

You sat up and looked to your right, the knife Astarion had pulled was now wedged deeply into the trunk of a nearby tree. You raised your eyebrows at him.

He stretched out like a cat in a sunbeam, his voice straining as he went. “Impressed?”

“Honestly? Yes.” You leaned back down and kissed him again. 

He hummed and his mouth moved against yours at a leisurely pace, his hands coming up to tangle in your hair. You kissed down his jaw and throat before coming to his collarbone and stopping.

“You’re sure you don’t want to fuck me again?” Your words came out a little shy and Astarion laughed. 

He twirled the ends of your hair around his finger. “Delicious as you were, my sweet, I think I’d prefer to take my time with you.” 

You pursed your lips, disappointed. 

“That’s not to say I don’t want to, darling, but…” His fingers stopped twirling your hair as he thought. “Like you said earlier, so much has changed in the last few hours. I’ve only just discovered that I can sleep with somebody because I actually want to.” His hand moved from your hair to your cheek. “I think I need some time to adjust to that.”

You nodded and bent to kiss him. “I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

He smiled up at you. “Thank you.”

You spent a few moments just looking at him, admiring how his eyes sparkled in the sun like rubies. You sighed noticeably. 

“What is it, love?”

You shook your head. “It’s nothing.”

“Darling…” He raised his eyebrows at you. 

“No, it’s inappropriate right now.” You looked away.

You felt his hand in your hair, and his voice was conspiratory, “I love when you talk dirty.”

You sighed again and looked him in the eye. “One of these days, when you’re ready, I’m going to look into your gorgeous eyes as I make you come.”

Astarion sputtered out a surprised laugh. “Easy there, lover,” he gave you a sultry look, “I may just take you up on that.”

You sat up and spread your hands over his chest. “I want to make you feel good, too.”

He brought both hands up to his face and groaned loudly before dragging them back down his face and looking at you. “Come lay in the sun with me, will you?”

You pouted but rolled off of him and curled into his side. 

“There now,” he said, arching his chest upwards towards the sky where the sun had now risen for the day, “isn’t this nice?”

You inhaled deeply, taking in the scent of the trees and the sounds of the ravine below. You exhaled and closed your eyes, warmed by the sun and comforted by the presence of Astarion beside you. He himself had his eyes closed and looked peacefully content. You nuzzled further into his side, enjoying how his cool skin contrasted with the warmth coming from above.

Before you could even register that you were still tired from your early wakeup call this morning, you’d drifted back into a comfortable sleep.

~~~~~

You were awoken some time later by a lick to the face. 

You shut your eyes tighter and groaned. “Gross, Astarion, I’m trying to sleep.” You threw an arm over your eyes, the sun now directly overhead. 

“Did you find them, boy?” A voice shouted from the distance.

Your eyes shot open and found Scratch panting above you, wagging his tail excitedly. 

You sat up quickly and immediately leaned over to shake Astarion who appeared to be trancing soundly. 

“Astarion,” you shook him anxiously. 

He scowled, his eyes still closed. He groaned lowly.

“Astarion, my dear, my sweet, my beloved,” you shook him harder and his eyes opened immediately. He sat up, fast as lightning.

“What’s happening? Where’s my knife?” He looked around frantically until his eyes landed on you. “Ah,” he said, calming, “déjà vu.” 

“They’re coming,” you hissed.

“Who?” Astarion narrowed his eyes, thoughts still foggy from his trance. 

“No FUCKING way!” Came Karlach’s voice from the treeline. 

You looked over and found her with an elated grin on her face and her hands on her knees. She started laughing loudly and you hid your face in your hands. 

“You guys did NOT,” she wheezed. 

“Hello Karlach,” Astarion’s voice sounded nonchalant beside you. “What brings you out to ruin our beauty sleep?” 

“Did you find them?” Shadowheart soon emerged from the forest and stopped in her tracks. She surveyed the area and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Astarion, tell me you didn’t.”

“Did what, darling?” He sounded smug and you looked over at him. His expression matched his tone. “You’ll have to be more specific.” He rested his chin on your shoulder.

“I fucking knew this would happen,” Karlach said, coming down from her laughing fit. “Soldier’s had her eye on you for a while now, Fangs.”

“Karlach!” You whisper-shouted.

“Oh, I’m aware,” you felt Astarion turn his head to look at you. 

Suddenly Gale, Lae’zel, and Wyll joined the fray. Scratch ran to them and happily weaved between them as they emerged. 

“We heard a commotion, did you find them?” Gale halted when he saw you and Astarion sitting together on the ground, him shirtless, you wearing his shirt. “No,” he said, shaking his head.

“Yes,” Astarion said, tilting his head against yours. You gave him a dirty look. 

“Chk! Was that filthy nest of our blankets your doing?” Lae’zel asked, cradling her greatsword proudly. 

You groaned and hid your face in your hands again. 

“It would appear so,” Wyll confirmed awkwardly. 

“You vampires have a disgusting way of mating if that nest was any indication,” Lae’zel narrowed her eyes and lifted her nose in the air judgmentally. “Far too soft.”

Astarion scoffed and pulled back from you. “I’ll have you know that vampires mate in the most satisfying- well, we don’t mate, necessarily, we’re not dogs, but we, well at least I, am always an exemplary lover.”

Shadowheart ignored him and walked forward, crouching down and resting a hand on your shoulder. You looked at her. “Are you okay?”

“What?” you laughed in disbelief. “Yes, I’m fine.”

“He didn’t… coerce you into something, did he?”

“Excuse me?” Astarion sounded insulted. “I always ask permission first, darling.”

“Your charms can be quite overwhelming at times, Astarion,” Gale said. 

“And wouldn’t you like having my charms turned on you, wizard,” Astarion sneered. 

“Well, let’s not jump to any conclusions,” Wyll held up his hands, gesturing for the others to relax.

“Everyone!” You raised your voice. All eyes settled on you. “Nothing happened between us that I didn’t expressly and happily agree to.”

Karlach started chuckling again. “Good for you, Soldier.”

“Thank you, Karlach,” said Astarion. 

You narrowed your eyes at him. 

He shrugged. “What?”

You groaned and stood up, wiping grass and forest debris off your clothes. You adjusted Astarion’s shirt on your shoulders, making sure you weren’t showing off too much to your companions. 

“Is there a reason you all came out here? Or was it just to mortify me? Because mission accomplished!”

“It’s midday,” informed Wyll. “We grew worried when the two of you seemingly vanished and didn’t return.”

“Halsin and the tieflings are coming to camp tonight to celebrate our victory against the goblins,” Shadowheart crossed her arms. 

“Yes, and it wouldn’t be a great look if our leader and the gangly one were missing,” Gale said.

“Gangly?!” Astarion exclaimed, very clearly not gangly. 

“You’re- okay, well, I hadn’t seen you shirtless before now,” Gale amended. 

“Like what you see?” Astarion teased. 

“Astarion,” you scolded. 

He sighed and got up, wrapping an arm around you and resting a hand on your hip. 

You went red as you watched your companions track his hand. 

“Listen, people,” Astarion said, sounding serious. 

You saw your companions’ eyes shift to the vampire. 

“Don’t give her a hard time. This was my doing.” Shadowheart was about to say something but Astarion raised his voice a bit. “While yes, she gave permission in everything that we did, this wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t suggested it in the first place.”

“I could have suggested something much better, surely,” Lae’zel huffed.

“I mean, did you-?” Karlach thrust her hips in the air with her fists at her sides.

“Oh my gods,” you groaned.

“I don’t kiss and tell, darling,” Astarion said, squeezing your hip slightly. 

Karlach smirked smugly and winked at you both. 

You shook your head and looked up, silently begging any god that was listening to kill you and to do it quickly. 

“We should get back to camp,” Wyll suggested diplomatically. “Let these two collect themselves.” 

“So what does this mean?” Shadowheart asked, ignoring Wyll. 

“Shadowheart,” Wyll warned but she waved him off.

“What do you mean?” You asked.

“Are you only going to sleep with the pathetic vampire moving forward?” Lae’zel stated bluntly.

You and Astarion looked at each other. You saw the slightest flash of uncertainty in his eyes and smiled. “If he’ll let me,” you said. 

A small smile appeared on his face in return.

Lae’zel groaned. “K'chakhi. Your loss.” She turned and walked back into the forest, slinging her greatsword over her back.

You bit your lip, feeling guilty about Lae’zel’s feelings, but Karlach soon slid into your vision. “Congrats, you crazy kids,” she laughed and pretended to punch your arm, then followed on Lae’zel’s heels, Scratch bounding close behind her.

Gale walked over, his face stoic. He stood in front of Astarion and held out his hand. 

Astarion scowled. “What is this, do you want some sort of handout?” 

“I want to shake your hand, you buffoon,” Gale sounded frustrated. 

“Gale…” you said sorrowfully. 

“No no, think nothing of it,” he waved you off. “The right man won out in the end.”

Astarion took his hand and shook it. “Better luck next time,” he jeered. 

“Astarion,” you scolded again. “You both know I’m not something to win, right?”

“Of course you’re not,” Gale nodded. “Apologies, I misspoke. I’ll see you both at camp. Lunch is bread and cheese to save room for tonight’s festivities.” He stiffly turned and walked back towards the trees. Wyll gave him a sympathetic look, then caught your eye. He nodded somewhat sadly and followed after Gale. 

“Well that certainly doesn’t feel good,” you said, holding a hand to your chest and breathing deeply.

“Not quite finished yet, love,” Astarion nodded over towards Shadowheart who lingered nearby. 

She approached slowly, holding her hands behind her back. Astarion released your hip and moved away, sensing what Shadowheart aimed to do. You looked at him curiously, but your attention was drawn back to Shadowheart as she threw her arms around your neck. 

“You’re happy?” She asked softly.

“Shadowheart…” you smiled into her hair. “Yes, I’m happy. Thank you.”

She pulled back to look at you in the eyes, double checking your expression. When she saw that you were genuine, she nodded. She cleared her throat and looked over at Astarion. 

She pointed an accusatory finger at him. “Hurt her, and you will never know a happy day again.”

Astarion held up his hands defensively. “I won’t-”

“You have never known the pain of Lady Shar’s wrath, and you’d be smart to keep it that way, so help me gods, Astarion.”

“I got it,” he said flatly. 

“Our Lady of Loss would not hesitate to strike you where you stand-”

“I think he gets it,” you said, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Thank you, Shadowheart.”

Shadowheart narrowed her eyes at Astarion before she looked back at you. “I’ll see you at camp. Don’t dally.” She looked pointedly at Astarion who shrugged helplessly. 

When she headed back into the forest, you and Astarion were finally alone. 

You let out a heavy sigh.

“That was a lot,” Astarion joined you at your side.

“Wait, did you know those people?” you smirked at him.

“Vaguely,” he smirked back and caught you in a kiss. “At least I don’t have to hold back from doing that at camp now.” He held you close in his arms.

You sighed again and laid your head on his shoulder. “You were right. I didn’t realize so many of them felt something for me.”

“That seems to be because you block out the advances of others.”

You shoved him playfully. “How dare you turn my pitiful backstory against me.”

He smiled and held out his hand. “Come on, let’s go dismantle that ‘disgusting’ nest.” He did his best to impersonate Lae’zel on “disgusting.” 

It made you laugh. “Okay.”

You took his hand and let him lead you through the trees back to the blankets and pillows that you’d spent the night on. 

When you arrived, you picked up your shirt and bra, feeling mild embarrassment that the others had probably seen them and drawn (correct) conclusions. You removed Astarion’s shirt and threw it back at him, hitting him in the face and quickly covered your chest with your forearm. 

Astarion laughed as his shirt fell into his awaiting hands. “Darling, you don’t have to hide from me,” he narrowed his eyes seductively. “I’ve already seen it all.” He tossed the shirt aside and made his way over to you.

“Feels different in the light of day,” you admitted self-consciously. “Worse, I guess.”

“Now, now,” he said, gently pulling your arm away from your chest, “let me see you in the daylight.” You allowed him to move your arm but didn’t look at him. “Lovely,” he breathed, and kissed you hard. 

You inhaled in surprise, but immediately gave in and slipped your tongue into his mouth and your arms over his shoulders. His hand came up and began massaging your left breast, his icy touch sending a shock wave through you and making you moan. 

Instantly, you pulled away and took a step back. “Careful,” you said as Astarion stared at you wide-eyed, his hand frozen in the air where he’d been palming your breast, “I thought you wanted to take things slow?”

He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a dry heave. “Stop being so nice to me,” he avoided your gaze. “It makes me want to… be nice back.”

“Gods forbid,” you laughed, and bent to pick up your bra which had fallen back amongst the pillows. 

All of a sudden, you found yourself face down in the blankets, the wind knocked out of you and Astarion’s body weight pressed firmly on top of you.

“Astarion,” you wheezed, “what are you doing?”

His voice was sultry in your ear, “If you’ll remember, I said I wanted to take my time with you.”

Sexy as that was, you couldn’t breathe. You reached behind yourself and smacked Astarion’s back with your palm. “Living creatures need to breathe, idiot!”

“Oh,” he realized his error and rolled off of you. You had no time to adjust yourself before he flipped you over and hovered above you on his hands and knees. 

You blew some hair out of your face, irritated. “Did you just tackle me like I was some sort of prey?”

“My dear, I would never,” he bowed his head and kissed your neck.

“And yet I find myself on the ground, even though I didn’t put myself here,” you tangled your hands in his hair, your voice wobbly. 

“You’ve always been rather clumsy,” he murmured teasingly. 

You took a deep breath and pushed him away. His lips were still puckered, making you giggle. “Shadowheart told us not to dally,” you reminded him. “And she threatened to kill you, what? Three times?”

“You forget that I’m already dead,” he smiled. “What’s another little death?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively.

You snorted. “Bad.”

“I thought that was rather clever, actually.”

You rolled your eyes affectionately. “We should really head back.”

Astarion whined and hung his head. “Let me have you again, woman!”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said!” He lifted his head and looked you in the eye. “And while I appreciate your concern, right now, I very much want to be inside of you again.”

You smiled cautiously. “Are you sure?”

He rolled his eyes and kissed you, lowering his body to roll his hips against yours and making his erection very obviously. You jolted at the unexpected sensation and he pulled back.

“Unless this is too much for you,” he searched your face for hesitancy. “You’re probably still sore and we don’t have to rush anything-”

You gripped the back of his head and tightened your fist into his curls. “Please,” you whispered, “fuck me again.”

A wicked grin bloomed on Astarion’s face and he kissed you passionately, rolling his hips against yours for friction. You moaned into his mouth, but he broke the kiss after only a few moments. “Like I said, love, I want to take my time with you.”

He rose up onto his knees and began untying the laces of your pants. You watched him intently and bit your lip as he removed them fully from your legs. He made quick work of his own and crawled back on top of you. His thumb hooked under your panties and his eyes met yours. You nodded and he pulled them down gently and discarded them close by. He then laid beside you, his eyes heavy with lust.

“Come here, precious thing,” he purred and you inched yourself closer to him. “Turn around,” he instructed. You gave him a confused half smile but did what he asked. He reached forward and pulled your hips back, causing you to feel his still-clothed cock against your ass.

“What are you doing?” you asked nervously. 

Astarion chuckled. “Not that, fear not.” He kissed your shoulder as he slid his left arm under you and settled his hand on your lower stomach. A chill ran through you as he nuzzled his head onto your shoulder. “Fair warning,” you could hear the mischief in his voice as his right hand made itself known in front of your face. He wiggled his fingers in a delicate wave, then brought it down between your thighs. 

A gasp escaped your throat when you felt his fingers swipe through your folds.

Astarion tilted his head and kissed your throat. “So wet already, darling.”

“You’re handsome,” you said by way of explanation.

He hummed against your shoulder and began to rub your clit. A shuddering breath left your mouth and your eyes fluttered shut. Astarion paused for a moment to lift your leg and hike it back over his. “This will feel good,” he said against your skin and dragged his fingers through your folds again before inserting a digit into your cunt. 

You threw your head back in surprised pleasure, which made Astarion turn and nip at your ear. He began pumping and curling his finger slowly inside of you. Your breath caught when his thumb resumed its spot on your clit and whined when his finger inside of you hit a particularly sensitive spot. He adjusted his angle to hit it repeatedly. 

“Astarion,” you moaned, your head clouded with nothing but ecstasy. 

“Yes, my sweet, you’re gripping me so tight,” his voice was sensual in your ear. “Do you think you can take a little more?”

You nodded, your eyes shut tight. 

“Words, darling.”

“Another…” you said breathily.

“Another what?”

Your voice was sing-songy. “Astarion, if you don’t put another finger in me right now, I’m leaving you.”

He laughed loudly before moving his mouth close to your ear again. “You like me too much.” Then he leaned up a little to catch your eye, his finger still pumping between your thighs. “Right?”

You smiled sympathetically, seeing your words had spooked him a little. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere,” you clarified. “But I might kill you.”

“Got it,” Astarion dragged his index finger through your folds, then carefully added it to your cunt alongside his middle finger. 

You exhaled, moving your hand down from his cheek to his hand resting on your stomach. You laced your fingers together and squeezed when he hit a particularly good spot, getting you to moan out an, “Oh, gods.”

“Like that?” He asked cockily, reaching and curling to hit the spot again. 

“Yes, my love,” you sighed, grinning upwards with your eyes closed. 

Behind you, you felt Astarion’s cock twitch.

Your eyes opened and you looked back at him. 

He smiled back at you sheepishly. “It does that sometimes, darling. When something is particularly arousing.”

Your breaths were coming out short and keeping in time with the pumping of his fingers. “Was it… ‘my love?’”

Astarion let out a low moan and hid his face in your shoulder before reemerging and nodding. “Coming from you while you’re in the throes of passion with me is really… something.”

You laughed between whimpers. “My… loooooove,” you sang, squeezing his hand again. “Your fingers feel heavenly, my looooove.”

“Fuck this,” Astarion said, pulling his fingers out of you unceremoniously and curling you forward with his body so he could shimmy out of his underwear. 

“What are you doing,” you winced and whined childishly, “I was so close!”

“Unfortunately, darling, if I’m not inside you within a matter of seconds, I’m going to lose it completely.”

“Wouldn’t want that,” you said, half dazed and still coming down from your almost climax. 

You felt his hand bump your ass as he pumped his cock and you instantly went stiff. “You’re not going to…?”

Astarion let out a breathy laugh. “Oh, my sweet, you’re not nearly ready for something like that yet.”

A relieved sigh escaped you. 

“We could always work our way up-”

“No, that’s okay,” you said quickly. 

“There’s nothing wrong with-”

“No, of course not-”

“But we can-”

“Let’s not talk about this now,” you patted Astarion’s cheek.

“Understood,” he nodded and resumed pumping his cock. “Hook your leg back over mine, darling.” When you followed his instruction, he kissed your shoulder once more. You felt the head of his cock glide through your folds until it prodded at your entrance and you let out a shaky exhale. “Don’t be scared,” he muttered, squeezing your hand. “Are you ready?”

You inhaled. “Yes.”

Just as he had last night, Astarion was slow to enter you. This time you heard him whimpering with his mouth so close to your ear. 

“Fuck,” he murmured, dragging his fangs from your shoulder to your neck, “still so tight.”

“Obviously,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut, but not feeling nearly as uncomfortable as you had the first time he’d entered you. You let out a satisfied exhale when his hips bumped your ass. 

“Let me know what I can move,” Astarion said against your skin, his words barely recognizable. 

“You can move,” you said almost immediately, reaching a hand up behind you and twisting it into Astarion’s hair. You moved it over a little to play with the tip of his ear.

He let out a loud groan and snapped his hips forward, probably with more force than he meant to. “Apologies,” he whispered, “that felt heavenly.”

“Keep going, my love,” you encouraged and he caught your eye with a seductive smile. 

He continued to pump his cock into your dripping hole and brought his right hand down to your clit. He licked a stripe from your neck up to your ear. “You know, I really did intend to take my time with you just now,” he spoke lowly from the back of his throat. As if to illustrate his point, he slowed his hips to take long, languid strokes out, and then moved back into you at an equally slow pace. His thumb on your clit slowed as he disconnected his left hand from yours and brought it up to fondle your breast. He kissed up your shoulder to your neck sloppily and sucked on the fading bite marks from last night. 

You moaned loudly, hooking your foot around his calf and tightening your fist in his hair. “We’d really be dallying, then,” you commented.

He made a frustrated noise. “Don’t even allude to the cleric right now,” he pulled away from your neck. “Unless it’s to tell me I’m a much better lover than her.” He snapped his hips into you, hard. 

“I don’t have much of a reference, genius,” you responded breathlessly. 

“Right,” he said, and picked up speed at your clit. His mouth returned to sucking on your throat. 

“Oohhh,” you sighed. You let out a gasp when Astarion’s left hand pinched your nipple.

“You feel wonderful, my darling,” spit connected him to your neck.

“So do you,” you brought your hand up to cover Astarion’s that was kneading your breast. “You can bite me, if you want.”

He groaned loudly and bumped his nose against your jaw. “Well,” he said between thrusts, “if you insist.” 

He kissed your throat before biting down, his hips instantly picking up speed. 

The ice that shot into your veins was a shock as always, but melted into a fuzzy pleasure that had your eyes drooping in ecstasy. 

Astarion took long pulls of your blood as he continued thrusting, circling your clit, and needing your breast. How he was keeping track of everything at once was beyond you in this pleasant, foggy state. 

“Darling,” he pulled away suddenly, swallowing loudly and seemingly out of breath. “May I taste you as you come?”

Your tongue lolled to the side, but his voice snapped you out of it. You nodded up at him. “Yes, please.”

“What do you need?” He licked the wounds on your neck. 

“As much as I’m enjoying you taking your time,” you said, “harder and faster.”

“Easy,” a cocky grin graced his face as a drop of your blood dripped down his chin. 

His hips picked up a brutal pace that nearly had you reaching your peak, and he pressed further onto your clit, his tight circles picking up speed as well. 

“Oh, Astarion,” you moaned loudly, reaching back again to grip his hair.

“Come for me, dearest,” he spoke softly against your throat, but loud enough that you could hear, “I want to hear you sing again. I want to taste how sweet your blood is when I make you cum on my cock.” He continued leaving sloppy kisses against your neck.

“I’m close,” you confirmed, your eyes shut tight and your body tensing. 

“Go ahead, love, I’ve got you,” his hard thrusts were becoming uneven, but ever the professional, his voice remained mostly even. “You’re so tight and warm, thank you for letting me taste you.” He kissed your mouth. “Darling.” Another kiss. “Beloved.” One more. “Mine.”

You cried out as you fell over the edge, your cunt squeezing his cock repeatedly, only to cry out again as you felt Astarion’s fangs enter your neck once more. 

“Astarion!” You shouted, squeezing his hand and pulling his hair and wrapping your shaking leg around his. Almost simultaneously, you felt Astarion spill inside you as he moaned your name loudly into your neck, his hips pulsing clumsily against you. 

The sensation of him drawing your blood was still pleasantly fuzzy, but you could feel yourself becoming light headed. You tapped his arm twice, your signal for him to stop, and he pulled away, leaning his forehead against your temple and breathing heavily. 

“Still cumming,” he groaned and clenched his teeth, his hips faltering in their rhythm. 

After another moment, his body finally relaxed and he pulled you closer into his chest, catching his breath. “That was… amazing,” he sighed happily, leaning forward to lick the remaining blood from your neck. “If I knew blood could taste that good-” His voice trailed off. “Well, I’m sure I’d do something about it if I could.” He seemed pleased with his own answer and hummed contentedly behind you.

“I’m glad it was to your liking,” you said, looking back at him with a smile. He bent forward and kissed you happily. “I’m like a fine vintage,” you teased.

Astarion pursed his lips. “You’re far from vintage, darling, you’ll have to work on your wine related japes.” 

You laughed and a comfortable silence fell between you. Astarion rested both of his hands on your stomach. Which growled suddenly.

“What’s that like?” He teased, licking a wayward drop of blood from the side of his mouth. 

Your body tensed. “Oh gods, bread and cheese!”

Astarion blinked at you. “Are those some sort of new deities I’m not aware of, or-?”

“No, that’s what Gale said we’re having for lunch.”

“And that’s important because-?”

“Because we DALLIED and there’s a PARTY tonight and now Shadowheart is going to KILL us.”

“I see.” Astarion remained still, fixed in place. Then suddenly he was pulling out of you at a breakneck speed and reaching for his clothes. 

You winced a little at the sensation but scrambled for your own clothes, wiping yourself down with the cloth Astarion provided again and got dressed in what was probably record time. 

Incredibly, you both looked presentable. 

“We do make a gorgeous pair,” Astarion cocked his hip and smirked at you, going in for a kiss.

You swatted him away. “Enough flirting, loverboy, we can talk about us later!” You started reaching for blankets and pillows. 

“Us,” Astarion stood on the sidelines, testing out the word on his tongue. “I do so like the sound of that.”

“Help me, would you?” You threw a pile of blankets at him, hitting him in the face and blowing his hair back. 

He groaned. “It should be a crime to rush after you’ve just made love to the most amazing woman.” He came up behind you and smacked your butt teasingly. 

You stood up straight and tried to look angry. “We are going to die if we don’t head back right now.” Astarion wasn’t buying your anger, so you turned bashful. “You made loooove to me?” You clasped your hands together by your face. “You think I’m amaaaazing?” You twirled some of your hair for good measure.

Astarion sighed. “Be serious, woman, we’re going to die!” His voice was exasperated but he smirked at you. He bent to pick up more blankets and pillows and you did the same until you both had piles you could barely see over and nothing was left behind.

“Ugh, I’m going to have to do so much laundry,” you muttered. “Seriously, how did you manage bringing all this out here?”

“Well first, everything was folded neatly.”

“We don’t have time.”

“And second, multiple trips, darling.”

“We can’t afford to leave camp EVER again.”

Try as you might to rush back to camp, you still had to maneuver through a forest and be careful where you stepped. The pair of you moved as quickly as you could, which wasn’t as fast as was probably necessary to avoid Shadowheart’s ire. 

“Soooo…” You broke the silence after a few moments. 

“Gods,” Astarion rolled his eyes, “what?”

“‘My love,’ huh?” You waggled your eyebrows at him.

“What about it?”

“You liiiiiiked it,” you teased. 

“I-” You could see that he thought about arguing but decided not to. “I’m not used to the pet names turned on me. It’s… nice.”

“You’re cute,” you said, looking over at him affectionately and nearly tripping over a tree root as a result.

Astarion snickered, then made his face serious. “I’m the furthest thing from cute. I’m a horrifying monster.” He lowered his voice as if that would back him up.

“Yeah, but you like being mushy.” 

“I do not.”

“You do!” You moved closer to him and bumped his hip with your own. “You were so sweet to me yesterday. And just now.” 

“It’s different with you,” he said quietly.

“Oh?” You raised your eyebrows.

“It’s… um… This is stupid, I hate it.” He tried to walk ahead of you but you caught up easily.

“No, no! Please.” You gave him a reassuring look. “I, of all people, will not judge you.”

He sighed. “It’s just… nice to feel like something is mine.” He was quick to correct, “Not that I own you but… I don’t know. You’re not a victim. Not a target. Not just… one night it’s better to forget. You’re something entirely new.”

You smiled over at him. “I like you too, weirdo.”

Astarion humphed. “Whatever.” He moved closer and bumped your hip with his own. The two of you shared a fond look, then turned back to the path ahead.

If Shadowheart was going to kill you, at least you’d die together. 

You both quickened your pace to try and avoid that fate, but it was a lovely thought.

Soon, you began to make out the bright colors of your tents through the trees and the sound of your companions chatting by the fire. 

You turned to Astarion. “See you on the other side.”

He nodded, determined. “It’s been a pleasure servicing you, darling.”

“I hope she kills you first.”

You shared a laugh before you took a calming breath. 

And stepped into camp. 

[i-write-boop-spoops]

Guzma Fluff Alphabet

first piece of the year ignore that it's feb

thanks for the anon who requested this! gn! reader, some mild angst and insecurity. not proofread lol

Enjoy!

A = Activities (what do they like to do with their s/o? how do they spend their free time?)

He LOVES a lazy morning together, just snuggling and goofing off in bed, drifting in-and-out of sleep in each other’s arms. He loves to make you laugh and fluster by blowing raspberries on your tummy or kissing your neck. Your slightly raspy voice and bleary eyes and bedhead… it’s just his favourite image in the world

He’s also a capital G Ganer (well actually he just plays whatever the Pokémon world’s equivalent to CoD is) so he likes playing with you or just having you watch him play how riveting. Of course, he’s up for playing sone of the games you like, your Pokémon Crossing island is so cute!!

Guzma is a bit of a homebody when it comes to hanging out with his boo, so things like just snuggling together while you binge a show or movie, or while you show each other asinine Tiktoks, are totally up his alley. It’s just a no-pressure way of spending time with you.

Also, living on the beautiful Ula’Ula island, you visit the beach ALL the time (plus it’s free!)

B = Beauty (what do they admire about their s/o? what do they think is beautiful about them?)

You are just so… kind. So kind. Not just to him, but to everyone. He’s the big bad bug man, a bully, a (reformed) petty criminal and yet you treat him so well. You’re kind to his scary bug Pokémon too, kind to the grunts. You’re just a wonderful person, too pure for this world.

Plus, you’re cute as fuck AND you got a nice booty. The total package.

C = Comfort (how do they help their s/o when they feel down? what makes them feel better?)

Guzma…. he’s not great with words. He really doesn’t know what to say when you’re not feeling great, doesn’t know what words will help comfort you. But he can give you a hug, take you into his big arms, hold you to his warn chest, and gently stroke your back with his large hand. He’ll let you wet his shirt with your tears if you need to, he’ll hold you anyways if you don’t.

And when you’re ready, he’ll make a corny joke to break the tension and make you smile again, he LOVES your smile :)

Unsurprisingly, he hates feeling vulnerable. He’s the big, bad, boss, he shouldn’t be crying. He’s ashamed of this “weak” side of himself, so he tends to lock himself away, distance himself from you. He doesn’t want you to see him like this. Of course, because you’re concerned for his wellbeing, you weedle your way into his room, and let him bury his face in your stomach and hold him.

Just talk, about anything. Distract him with stories from your work/school, funny tales from your childhood, that one Togedemaru that keeps invading your garden. Play with his hair. Make him forget.

D = Dreams (how do they picture their future with their s/o and in general?)

Before he met you, he kinda stopped having dreams…. he failed his trials, wasn’t talking with his family, was just stuck in that ol’ Pokémon-evil-team shtick.

And then you came into his life, and suddenly, he’s thinking about getting a job, one that’ll probably be minimum wage and gruelling, but he’ll work himself half to death if it means he’ll be worthy of you. Maybe he’ll even go to college.

He just wants to be the kind of man you want to spend your life with, that you can give proud toasts about at your milestone anniversaries. Whether said life involves you two getting married and/or having a couple kiddos or not, he doesn’t mind either way.

E = Equal (are they the dominant one in the relationship or are they rather passive?)

Despite him being the big boss and all, he’s actually the more passive one. Honestly, he’s more into being chill and casual and cosy with you. So, you have to be the one to drag him out of the house to do something. You’re the one who suggests activities and food choices and all sorts.

F = Fight (how quick are they to forgive their s/o? what are they like in an argument? who says sorry first?)

Unsurprisingly, Guzma has a bit a lot of a temper. So, it means he’s quick to anger, and he’ll get quite thick. A lot of it is due to his insecurities, so seemingly innocuous things can set him off.

He’s very accusatory in fights, loud and in-your-face. Even a little mean :( (but he will immediately crumple if you start to cry)

He’s been working on himself though, so he will own up to his mistake. He’ll slink over to you, hunched over, hands buried in his pockets, gaze tilted downwards as he mumbles a “Sorry baby…”

He’s not embarrassed to say sorry, he’s embarrassed he got so emotional and angry in the first place. He NEVER wants to make you feel upset or unloved by him.

G = Gifts (what kind of things do they gift to their s/o? are they spontaneous or do they stick to special events like anniversaries?)

SNACKS. snacks. s n a c k s.

You will NEVER go hungry dating Guzma! Every time you see him, he’s at least got your favourite candy bar or fruit slices on him. He’s got a little basket in his room full of crispy corn snacks and chips for you two to munch on while you’re hanging out. When you tell him you’ve had a bad day, he WILL buy you a pint of ice cream for you to cry into.

Other gifts he likes to give you tend to be cute but small. Little plushes and keyrings and knickknacks. He likes picking out quirky things that he thinks suits you from thrift shops and markets and such.

For birthdays and such, he’s more likely to do a little collection of smaller gifts than one big gift. He’s always way more into giving you a memorable experience than anything else.

He’d really love to spoil you with diamonds and designer goods, but he ain’t got the money for that.

H = Heart Eyes (what are they like in love? is it obvious to others? how do they express their love? do they brag about their s/o to others?)

Guzma is so. fucking. happy. Like, genuinely on cloud nine. He’s sure of himself, cockier than usual, always having this smug grin on his face because he knows he’s caught a baddie.

The real question is, when is he not bragging about you?? He’s already boastful as is, so with you in his life. It’s practically comical how much he brags about you.

I = Impression (what first attracted them to their s/o? how accurate was their first impression to how their s/o actually is?)

Typically, when Guzma sees someone he’s attracted to, it’s all horniness on his part – but with you, it was different. You were just so beautiful, cute and pretty and kind and lovely. He was in awe.

He, of course, still thought you were incredibly hot and sexy, but he was feeling more than that for you, even at first sight.

J = Jealousy (do they get jealous easily? how do they deal with it?)

Very jealous. As cocky as he is, he’s deeply insecure, and is convinced he doesn’t deserve you… but that manifests as possessiveness. He’s terrified of losing you, especially to someone else.

When a love rival is about, he has an arm around you, using his large frame to shield you from whoever he’s worried about (whether it’s warranted or not). He’s all over you too, kissing you, touching you, making it obvious to everyone that you’re his.

And if anyone does try make a move on you? It’s gonna be a battle and not necessarily a pokemon one

K = Kiss (are they a good kisser? what was their first kiss like? where do they kiss the most?)

Oh, Guzma loves to kiss! He’s a playful, but passionate kisser, who loves making you smile with his smooches. He also can’t just give you one kiss, it has to be a flurry of kisses. He just loves having his lips on you.

His favourite place to kiss, other than your lips and neck, is your tummy! It makes you all giggly and squirmy and it warms his heart. He really likes your abdomen and he thinks it deserves all the attention!

more guzma kissing headcanons here!

L = Little Things (what are the little things they love about their s/o? are they attentive?)

omg when you hit him with that cute little smile of yours? His heart melts. And if you giggle too? Something get this man into heart surgery, his heart can’t TAKE the cuteness!

He loves your hands too, they’re so small compared to his, so delicate. He loves the way they fit in his hands, he treats them as if they’re delicate (which he has never done with anything before)

M = Marriage (do they want to get married? how do they propose? what would the wedding be like?)

Guzma would die if he got the chance to be your hubby. Spending the rest of his life with his boo, your love cemented and recognised by all AND a sick-ass party with CAKE? he’s sold.

Well, he would be, if it weren’t for his pesky insecurities getting in the way. He’s not good enough for you, he tells himself, you deserve better. You deserve the big white wedding and the stability other men can provide.

Of course, you knock him upside the head with the biggest reality-check of his life, and he finally comes to realisation he needs to marry you

Saves up to buy you a nice ring, and to take you out on a real night on the town (well mainly, that really nice Paldean place you wanted to try, and some ice cream afterwards). He takes you to the beach then, to watch the sunset. He’s sweating buckets the whole time, and when he finally gets down on one knee, he fucking forgets his whole speech and after a whole minute of awkward silence he eventually just says;  “..Marry me?”

You say yes of course, and later that year you tie the knot at that very beach. It’s cute and a little casual, there’s a buffet, one of the grunts are DJ-ing (your relatives are requesting 80s classics he’s never heard of). It’s genuinely just a really fun, amazing night, made even better by the fact that YOU’RE MARRIED TO GUZMA!!!

N = Nicknames (what do they call their s/o? what do they get called?)

Does he ever even call you by your actual name? In sincere, raw moments maybe. But most of the time, he’s calling you “boo” (his personal fave), “Babe/baby”, “cutie”, “cutiebug” (don’t let the grunts hear him call you that, he’ll never live it down) or some play on your name.

He even hits you with the “bro” sometimes.

You call him things like “Guz” or “Big guy” (He likes that one, makes him feel big and protective). Occasionally you’ll call him “Ma” which gets a chuckle outta everyone.

O = Open (do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? is it easy for them to share?)

Guzma puts on the big bad boss front a lot, it’s to protect himself. He is deeply insecure in himself – but he doesn’t want anyone to know that, let alone you, the person he loves so much.

But he can’t hide it forever, and as you become more and more serious about each other, those walls are chipped away by your kindness and your understanding nature. You start getting glimpses into his vulnerable side, into parts of his past that he’s not fond of. Soon enough, you’ve pulled away all that chitinous armour, and found the insecure boy beneath, who you love with all your heart nonetheless.

P = Pancakes (are they a good cook? how often do they cook for their s/o? breakfast in bed or fancy dinner dates?)

Guzma’s not bad at all… he just needs a little more practise, and a little more variety. He tends not to cook for himself, mostly eating takeout and ready meals. Sometimes he just has an energy drink instead of breakfast. He does cook for you though, because he wants to treat you right (and also because he doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob)

He can make a standard pasta sauce, a curry sauce, a toasty, pancakes and a chilli. As the two of you continue to date, he starts to up his culinary catalogue (sometimes to disastrous effect oops)

Sometimes you two are lazy, or just have cravings, and he’ll buy you takeout too. He tends to stick to pizza, but you can convince him to expand his horizons (he ended up really enjoying sushi!)

When bringing you for a night on the town, he mainly just brings you to fast-food places – he’s broke – but every now and then he’ll bring you to a nice restaurant to wine and dine you.

Q = Quirk (a random quality/ability that is beneficial to their relationship.)

You have scary dog or scary mon?  privileges. Absolutely nobody is gonna mess with you when you’re out with the big, bad bug man.

also you two lovingly recreate the “he asked for no pickles” meme all the time

R = Romance (how romantic are they? are they cliché or creative?)

Guzma is surprisingly romantic. He thinks you deserve the world, and while he doesn’t think he can give it to you, he tries his best. He likes to get you flowers when he can or take you on cute (but cheap) dates.

He’s bad with words, he’d love to wax poetic about your beauty and the love he has for you, but it never really comes out how he’d like. You get the sentiment though.

S = Sleep (who falls asleep first? do they need their s/o close to them? do they have any bad habits?)

It really depends, sometimes he hits the pillow and he’s out like a light, other times he likes to stay up and watch your cute face as you drift off.

Whenever you sleep in the same bed, you always end up with your limbs tangled in his, or with him enveloping you as the big spoon. You’re his teddy bewear, through and through. He needs to snuggle you to get a good night’s sleep

He snores SO LOUD and drools

T = Thrill (do they need to spice up their relationship with new things or do they stick to a routine? how often do they do new things?)

Personally, he’d prefer to just be chill and hang out – but he doesn’t want to bore you, or make you think he doesn’t care, so he does try and bring you on new and fun experiences, even ones he totally doesn’t have interest in, just because he thinks you’d like them. In the early stages, he brought you to things that neither of you enjoy, just because they were popular, and he was afraid he’d look like a bad boyfriend if he didn’t bring you there. He grew out of this once he became more secure in himself and in your relationship.

U = Unity (did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? what traits do they share?)

The introduction of you in his life is like a pivotal branching point in the timeline. From day one he wanted to be the kind of man you deserve, and he starts to fill that role little by little. If you’d ask him today, he’d still say you’re too good for him, but both of you can see the metamorphosis he’s gone through. He’s kinder, gentler, more patient, more understanding, more generous, and more confident in himself.

V = Value (how important is their relationship to them? what is it worth compared to other things in their life?)

You are Guzma’s number one priority. Nothing has mattered nor will EVER matter more to him than you. If you asked, he’d steal the moon for you. Your smile is the most precious thing to him in the world, he’d do anything to keep it.

W = Wild Card (a random fluff headcanon.)

Totally up for getting matching tattoos or piercings… or even just getting the ink by himself to honour you!

X = XOXO (do they like to kiss and cuddle? are they upfront about their relationship or rather shy when in public?)

The real question is… when is he not touching you?

He always has a hand on you, holding your hand, stroking your back, smacking dat ass… in public, in private. There is absolutely zero ambiguity whether you two are dating, because his displays of affection do not dwindle under the eyes of others.

Sure, he loves to cop a feel, but he’s also really big on hugs and kisses and cuddles. Having you in his arms just makes him feel whole, y’know?

Naturally, due to his body type, he is an AMAZING hugger.

Y = Yearning (how do they cope when they spend time away from their s/o? do they miss their s/o?)

Guzma does NOT take your absence well. You are his sunshine after all, his cinnamon applin, the cream in his coffee, the chocolate sauce on his ice cream. A day without you is a lifetime of misery for him.

When you’re apart you text all the time, and facetime in the evenings. Not being able to feel you physically hurts him, but being able to see your cute face and listen to your sweet voice definitely lessens it somewhat. You fall asleep on facetime with each other often.

Z = Zoo (do they have pets? do they want some in the future?)

Bugs, bugs, bugs, bugs. So many bugs! Small ones, big ones, cute ones, scaey ones… all the bugs!

[maudus1]

Fic Authors Self-Rec!

Rules: When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass it on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love!

Thanks for the tag @poeti-kat! 💙 Passing this on to @charlatron @sagegarnish @jacklyn-flynn @andordean @some27-url

Troubled Water

Rating: E

Fandom: Star Wars Prequels / The Clone Wars

Relationship: Anakin Skywalker/Obi-Wan Kenobi

About: Sort of a character/relationship study that takes place over several years. Started as a cracky 5+1 things idea and... exploded into something much more expansive. The original premise: "Five times Obi-Wan kept Anakin warm, and one time Anakin returned the favor." It's still following this format, for the most part, as it's given me an outline to adhere to and an end goal.

Comment: This is still a work in progress, but I think it's already my favorite. Star Wars was one of my childhood obsessions and I'm enjoying reliving that nostalgia as an adult. Character-driven stories featuring personal growth and development have always fascinated me, and I love doing deep POV dives, so I'm having a ton of fun with it. It's given me back the motivation I'd been sorely lacking this year, and the response has honestly blown me away.

Beg Pretty for Me

Rating: E

Fandom: Supernatural

Relationship: Castiel/Dean Winchester

About: A smutty Dom/sub post-canon fix-it with lots of feelings. Dean saved Cas from the empty, they admitted their love for each other, and now everyone is one big happy family. Cue some raunchy "I'm on a mission and I miss you" phone sex!

Comment: I started this before the series finale both for personal reasons and for the fandom at large, because we can never have too many happy endings for these boys. It's what they deserved. And maybe I just wanted Cas to live and Dean to feel pretty and cherished and loved.

Fixing a Hole, Building a Bridge

Rating: M

Fandom: Dragon Age Origins

Relationship: Alistair/Morrigan

About: This is a short hurt/comfort piece wherein Alistair is injured and Morrigan takes care of him. And then repressed feelings spill out.

Comment: I originally wrote this for a Valentine's day prompt challenge, though it's been edited and added to since then because upon rereading I got inspired. Their banter is some of my favorite in the game and I love complex relationship dynamics, so this was a blast to write. Over time it's become one of my favs.

One September Morning

Rating: T

Fandom: Supernatural

Relationship: Castiel/Dean Winchester

About: Modern (No Monsters) AU where mechanic Dean falls in love with the new cashier working the counter at the gas station next to his auto shop. Alas, in true Dean fashion, it takes a full-on personal crisis for him to finally realize it.

Comment: This was my first exchange fic in the SPN fandom so I was nervous as fuck about it. But it ended up being a ton of fun. Super fluffy and sweet, despite some mild Dean-angst. And again, a happy ending, like they deserve. @dustyl turned it into a fantastic podfic too! Check it out here.💙💚

Private Sessions

Rating: E

Fandom: Dragon Age Inquisition

Relationship: Cullen Rutherford/f!Reader

About: Another Modern AU. You (the reader) have the hots for your new spin instructor. Guess what? The feeling is mutual! From sex to love and romance, with family fluff and mabari pups along the way, it's super adorable (and incredibly steamy).

Comment: What started as a reblog chain of my mutuals and I goofing off here on tumblr turned into a summer writing circle that got us through the first lockdown. Because of this project, I met some of the most awesome people. It brought us closer as friends and I will forever be grateful for that. And the responses we got to it were astounding and so heart-warming. Shout out to my beautiful co-authors and sister witches @charlatron @kemvee @jacklyn-flynn I love y'all! 😘

[dudeandduchess]

Kyōjurō x F!S/O: We and Us (Fluff, Time Travel AU, SFW Scenario)

Summary: (Y/n) takes a vacation to Japan with her best friend and prays to meet her soulmate, only fate gives her a mile instead of an inch and she meets Rengoku Kyōjurō— the Flame Hashira in the manga that she had been reading. Right before his last mission, no less, so it’s up to her to save him.

Note: This is a mix of an isekai, soulmate, and time travel AU. I’ll try to explain things as best as I can within the story, but please take everything at face value. But if y’all have questions, please let me know. Enjoy, bbys!

(Y/n) will be the usual, but (F/n) will stand for Friend’s Name.

Also, a HUGE thank you to Biz for helping me out so much with this. Like seriously. I’ve hit so many blunders with writing this one out.

Warning: Mild Angst with Happy Ending, Manga/Movie Spoilers, Language

Word Count: 11,007

***

It was the same dream again; the very same one that had kept on plaguing (Y/n) ever since she had landed in Tokyo with her best friend.

She had only ever seen the scene in the Kimetsu no Yaiba manga, but it all looked so vivid in her mind. Too vivid, in fact, that it had unsettled her enough to have her sitting up in the double bed in the hotel room, that she and (F/n) shared.

For the third night in a row, the dream— no, the nightmare— had managed to reduce her to tears again.

Maybe she was crazy for feeling so much for someone who wasn’t real, but she couldn’t help her reaction. When she had opened her eyes, her face was already wet with tears— and no matter how hard she tried to wipe them away, they wouldn’t cease falling.

And, for once, she wanted to wake (F/n) up so she could get one of her comforting hugs— but she didn’t want to put a damper on such a momentous vacation for them. After all, they had saved up so much money just to afford going to Tokyo in the first place.

She wouldn’t ruin the next day with something that would fade away into nothingness later on.

But she would be lying if she said that it didn’t hurt to watch Rengoku Kyōjurō die over and over again— even if it was only in her dreams.

All she could do, however, was lay back down and curl into a ball to clutch one of her pillows close to her chest; burrowing her face into the fresh-smelling linen and trying to will away the haunting images that kept playing in her mind.

Her heart felt like it was breaking a million times over, yet she couldn’t exactly explain why that was. So, she closed her eyes and started counting— if only to get her racing mind to calm down.

Thankfully, sleep finally caught up to her; albeit restless and unfulfilling.

‘Don’t worry about me dying here.’

***

“You seem really off today, is something wrong, (Y/n)?” (F/n) asked as she nudged her best friend with her elbow, sending the other woman jumping a little in surprise; as if she had been suddenly shaken from some deep and all-consuming thought.

In response, (Y/n) forced a smile on her face and shook her head. She really did feel so drained, especially with a constant heaviness weighing down on her shoulders. Especially when she had stepped onto the small tram that would lead them to Setagaya; it was as if her chest had gotten so tight at some unknown factor that plagued her every waking move.

Not even the pretty hydrangeas that lined either side of the tracks were enough to make her feel better. And it felt like such a waste to be there, as the hydrangeas were what she had wanted to see the most.

“I just had a really weird dream last night. It was of Kyō dying…” (Y/n) admitted with a slight huff of a laugh, trying to make light of the situation with some humor— but she couldn’t say anything more as she felt her best friend’s arms wrap around her tightly.

(Y/n) had to admit that it was a little surprising, but she wasn’t entirely opposed to it; as it felt so warm and comforting, especially with the light drizzle of rain outside making the world look dreary and cold.

And slowly, she found herself grinning as she tried to push (F/n) off; before bursting out into a tiny fit of giggles when the arms around her only got tighter.

“Okay, okay, I feel better now. You can let go of me.”

With a laugh, (F/n) stepped back and patted the top of (Y/n)’s head, making the latter curl her upper lip at how playfully condescending that was. But it did its job in taking her mind off of her nightmare, which was all that mattered.

And so, with much a brighter mood, (Y/n) looked out of the tram window and giddily waited for their stop— so she could get a feel of what Kyōjurō’s hometown would have been like. After all, the databook had mentioned him living in Setagaya; so it was ticking off two nocks in one move, with her hydrangea sightseeing, as well as touring Setagaya.

When they got to their station, both women wasted no time in walking to the nearby temple— Tsurumaki Jisso-in. It was a really quaint place, but it felt so tranquil to step into; as if they were being transported through time.

Every step that (Y/n) took, she could feel her emotions beginning to bubble to the surface— feeling so light and heavy at the same time, like some part of her was being welcomed back to the place.

But that wasn’t the most unsettling instance for her; that was when she was deep in prayer already— thanking the gods for bringing her to Japan with her best friend, and for giving her such good fortune up to that day.

After all, she knew that she was luckier than most for just having the opportunity to have a roof above her head and three (or more) meals a day. Let alone the fact that she could have saved up to afford a very expensive trip.

If that wasn’t worth thanking the gods for, then she didn’t know what was.

“All I’m asking for now… is someone to spend the rest of my life with. Someone who’s the other half of my soul…” She prayed under her breath, bowing her head even further as a sign of humility, before adding, “Someone who will love me wholeheartedly forever.”

Shivers raced up her spine as soon as she uttered her wish, with some unseen force beckoning her to look up. And when she gave in to the urge to do so, the sight of a blond waiting a few paces away from her— with his hand stretched out towards her— made her absolutely breathless.

The vision didn’t last more than a couple of seconds, but she was sure that she just saw Rengoku Kyōjurō in front of her.

“It can’t be. I’m going crazy,” The young woman whispered to herself; bowing down once more, before strolling off to the side to admire the little stone statues that dotted the vicinity.

However, the heavy feeling on her shoulders had returned along with a headache. So, she decided that a short stroll around the area would do her some good.

With one last look behind her— to see that (F/n) was still engrossed in whatever prayer she had— (Y/n) deigned to just send her a text to let her know that she was going for a walk before finally taking the first few steps to get her around the place.

She couldn’t even hear the buzz of the town around them. No horns, or car engines, or even the sound of people filled the gaps of silence between the short gusts of wind that rustled the leaves of the plants around her.

If she were to be honest, she would say that it was relaxing; enough for a nap, even.

But she couldn’t do that when she and (F/n) still had so many places to go for the rest of the day. And, figuring that she’d been gone for long enough, she circled back to the pagoda— where, lo and behold, her best friend was nowhere to be found.

“I told her to wait for me here, tsk,” She uttered under her breath, huffing a little as she tried to fight back the heaviness and the headache that were only getting worse. “(F/n), you dumbass.”

She must have circled the entire vicinity of the temple thrice already, but her best friend was still nowhere to be found. And, around the second time that she had gotten back to the pagoda, she had pulled her phone out to call her— only to curse under her breath when she saw that it was dead.

It wouldn’t have been a problem at all, since she had her backpack with her— but when she checked the contents of it, she didn’t find the power bank that she was sure that she had packed in there that morning.

So, she circled the area once more— getting more frustrated at the pseudo cat and mouse game that she assumed (F/n) was playing with her— until she decided to check outside the temple gates.

Only, she couldn’t quite believe her eyes when an entirely different scene greeted her.

Instead of the asphalt road that she had walked on earlier, there was only a dirt road; which had her chest tightening with panic. Because she couldn’t have been on one of those prank shows she always watched.

But that was the only answer that she was coming up with, as her eyes took in the sight of the busy road in front of her. People were even wearing much older clothes; as opposed to the jeans, button down, and ankle boots combo that she was wearing.

“No, I swear to everything holy… (F/n), if you signed me up for a prank…” She hissed under her breath, swallowing thickly as she frantically looked at all of the people who were going on about their day.

A few gazes were aimed at her, but no one dared to approach her. And it wasn’t like she could simply stroll up to someone and ask them what had happened to the road— because, as it was, she only knew the basics of basic Japanese.

She would sooner make a mistake and ask someone where a gong was, instead of where the road had gone.

It was also at that moment that she realized that she shouldn’t have goofed off while learning Japanese; instead of telling (F/n) that she sucks tiny dicks, she could have used that time to learn some more useful sentences.

Panic was steadily beginning to set in, causing tears to spring up in her eyes as she clutched her useless phone in one hand. She couldn’t even muster up the strength to move from where she stood— the need to cry getting stronger with every passing second.

(Y/n) swore that she would wring her best friend’s neck if all of that ended up as a really unfunny prank. But it seemed that it wasn’t a prank at all, as no one yelled ‘cut’ and not one camera person stepped out to capture the sight of her tears beginning to fall down her face.

Slowly, her panic began to really set in, as she gripped her phone even tighter in her hand— pushing herself to turn on her heel to march back into the temple and try to look for (F/n) in every shrub possible; only, the breath was knocked out of her when she ran smack dab into something.

Or rather, someone.

Red-tinted irises flickered down at the peculiar woman, lingering on her tear-stained face, before they took in the strange clothes that she was wearing.

The strange woman’s clothes weren’t what had the Flame Hashira’s curiosity piquing, however…

It was when her eyes widened with what seemed like fear and genuine shock, before she whispered, “Kyōjurō?”

All that, before promptly passing out— thankfully, in his arms. Otherwise, she would have suffered a painful bump to the head.

“Ani-ue? Do you know her?” Kyōjurō readjusted his hold on the woman in his arms, then looked down at his side to answer his brother with a smile.

“I don’t, Senjurō, but she knows me.”

“What are we going to do?”

“Take her home,” The Hashira’s answer sounded so simple, as if it didn’t have to do with taking a virtual stranger home— one that looked so weird, with a glossy and flat brick at her feet. Because really, his curiosity was extremely piqued; especially with how he felt his heart skip a beat when she mentioned his name.

He wanted to know why exactly that was, when he had never felt something so… unexplainably warm and pleasant in his entire life.

As if he had just begun to really live.

***

“Is she awake yet?” Kyōjurō asked as he slid the shoji open and poked his head inside the guest room. He had been training beforehand, but had practically breezed through the rest of his shadow sparring routines because his curiosity got the better of him.

All throughout the afternoon, he couldn’t quite get his mind off of the strange woman who was sleeping in his home; and it wasn’t even the fact that she knew him that baffled him.

It was how he felt so attached to her already— as if, by some invisible force, something tethered him to her.

And that was how he found himself padding through the house; pacing up and down the halls at first, weighing the merits of seeing her already— without washing all of the sweat off of him first— as opposed to just making a beeline for her room and checking up on her.

However, he went with the former choice: bathing first, before going to see her. After all, he wanted to make a good impression, and he couldn’t do that when he smelled like the sun and lots of sweat.

“Not yet, ani-ue,” Senjurō answered softly, sending his older brother a smile, before reaching up to feel the unknown woman’s forehead with the palm of his hand.

She didn’t have a fever, but she was still unconscious, which worried the younger Rengoku a lot. He may not have known her, but he was so naturally kindhearted that he didn’t want anyone getting hurt— especially when they were under his care.

Kyōjurō sighed quietly— more out of disappointment than anything else— as he padded into the room; closing the door behind him, as he let his gaze fall to the unconscious woman on the futon.

And that was when the foreign feeling of his stomach feeling so empty yet full at the same time— as his heart began to pound faster in his chest— fell on him. He barely even managed to restrain the urge to reach up and rub at the spot where his heart was.

Though, slowly, he walked towards her and sat down next to where his brother sat— not once looking at anywhere but her and her sleeping face.

Kyōjurō had to admit that she was quite beautiful, even with that slight furrow in her brows. But, before he could stop himself, he reached out and gently smoothed the crease down with the pads of his fingers.

Unbeknownst to him, a small and warm smile had tugged up at the corners of his lips; which had Senjurō looking between the Flame Hashira and the stranger.

He didn’t want to make assumptions, but he could feel that there was something divine at play with their situation. Especially since the woman looked like she didn’t belong in their country, nor did she belong in their time.

It wasn’t until night had fallen that the brothers saw her stir awake, and they immediately waited with baited breath for her to open her eyes. But when she did open them, they immediately widened as she bolted upright on the futon— scooting away from the Rengokus and dragging the blanket closer towards her chest.

As if that would protect her from a Hashira.

“I have to be dreaming,” (Y/n) whispered frantically, curling her fingers around the blanket and bringing it up to shield her face from the pair in front of her; then brought it back down after a few seconds, to check if they were still there.

Lo and behold, Kyōjurō and Senjurō were still looking at her; which prompted her to do it twice more, until the older of the two tugged the blanket out of her hands and scooted closer to her.

(Y/n) wanted nothing more than to scream at that moment— both with fear and various other overwhelming emotions— but she bit down on her tongue and held it in. On the off chance that it was all some elaborate prank, she didn’t want to make even more of a fool of herself.

“Your name,” Kyōjurō began, letting his curiosity get the better of him as he gave in and jumped into interrogating her already. After all, he had been waiting all afternoon for her to wake up. “What’s your name?”

Hell, he had even pushed back the time for his nightly patrols in case she woke up. Because he wanted to be there when she opened those breathtaking eyes of hers; ones that widened in surprise at his question.

Thankfully, (Y/n) caught his words with very little difficulty.

“(Y/n)…” The young woman breathed out, completely enamored by how close those fiery eyes were to her face. She had only seen them in her dreams, and to have them look so real… it was a dream come true; even if she was sure that she was only hallucinating.

Since there was no way that a manga character could be real.

“I… I mean… (L/n) (Y/n),” She stammered out in the choppiest-sounding Japanese that she had ever uttered. It was even worse than when she had asked someone for directions in the street the day before; making her want to snatch the blanket back and hide under it until the burning in her cheeks subsided.

“(L/n) (Y/n),” Kyōjurō whispered under his breath, feeling his lips tingle as a smile tugged up at the corners of his lips— for some unknown reason. The name was so foreign on his tongue, and he had pronounced it differently than she had, but it still had his heart fluttering inside his chest. “Earlier, you mentioned my name. How do you know me?”

That had all of (Y/n)’s thoughts coming to a standstill inside her head, stumping her until she could feel her right eye twitching with her discomfort. After all, she couldn’t very well tell him that he was a fictional character in a manga— one that she cared for immensely.

But she also knew that she wouldn’t be able to explain why she was there in the first place, if she lied to him. That, and something told her that Kyōjurō would willingly hear her out, and even accept what she was going to say.

He would be a little skeptical about it, but she knew as much as he did that no one would be able to explain exactly what had happened.

So, to the best of her ability, she wracked her brain for all of the Japanese words that she had learned, and began to explain in choppy sentences. “I’m not from here. I’m from the future… and this is a manga.”

The Hashira’s eyebrows furrowed at that, and he was about to open his mouth to speak, when Senjurō reached out to lay a hand on his forearm.

“Maybe we should hear her out first, ani-ue?”

Those words prompted Kyōjurō to look over at Senjurō, before scooting back to sit next to his brother, and letting go of the blanket that he had unceremoniously snatched from their guest. Part of him had his defenses raised, and wanted nothing more than to get things over with— but another, much bigger part, had him wanting to sit there and listen to what she had to say.

All night long, if he had the leisure of doing so.

And so, with her choppy Japanese, (Y/n) went on to tell the Rengoku brothers everything that had happened since she had arrived at the temple in Setagaya, and everything that happened between that and fainting in his arms; with the last bit making her blush profusely, while she looked away.

Surprisingly, Kyōjurō found the flustered expression cute on her… but what threw the young man even more for a loop was his reaction: stifling a smile, as his cheeks also warmed up with a blush identical to hers.

Never in his life had he been flustered like that; which was made even more intense with the butterflies fluttering around inside his stomach. It was a foreign feeling, but something that he welcomed… because it was something nice and warm.

Something that he knew he had been missing all along.

“And that’s how I ended up here. I was just looking for my friend...” (Y/n) implored softly, letting her gaze flicker between the two blonds in front of her. “Do you believe me?”

She then waited with baited breath for Kyōjurō’s answer, staring intently at him, and sighing when he minutely nodded his head. “Parts of your story explain things, so I’ll believe you… for now.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll take that.” (Y/n) smiled at him, feeling extremely comfortable under his gaze for once— only to feel her breath catch in her throat when the Hashira returned it with a much brighter one than hers.

If he kept smiling at her like that, she might just traverse time and space again— what with how surreal it looked.

Both of them seemed to be stuck at a standstill then, with their eyes not once flickering away from the other— as their smiles tapered down into smaller ones.

All the while, Senjurō could only look on with a hint of a smile tugging up on his cheeks; because he had never seen his brother ever look so interested in a woman before. And maybe, just maybe, he’d finally found the one who was going to take care of his heart.

“Ani-ue, I think it’s time for your patrols now,” The younger Rengoku began with a mirthful tone, popping the invisible bubble that ensconced the pair with him.

That had the Hashira sitting upright even more, shoulders stiffening as he picked his sword up from beside him and immediately got up. He had completely forgotten that he had to do a patrol of the area, just so everyone under his jurisdiction could stay safe.

However, he felt a little reluctant to leave his guest just like that.

“Let’s talk more tomorrow, (L/n)-san,” He bid then, biting down unsurely on his bottom lip when he realized just how forward he sounded— but not doing anything to retract the statement.

Because he had to admit, he wanted to talk to her more; get to know her. All of her.

To his utter shock— and pleasure— he saw the young woman nod at him, before uttering words that had his heart practically jumping out of his chest and gracing all of them with its presence.

“Stay safe, Kyōjurō… I mean, Rengoku-san.”

It was safe to say that all throughout his patrol, Kyōjurō’s mind always drifted back to the intriguing woman that had literally and figuratively fallen into his arms.

***

When morning finally came, it was to hear nothing but tranquil silence within the Rengoku household. There was the telltale chirping of birds outside, and the soft din of people chattering as they passed by the house— but it seemed that everyone was still asleep within the estate itself.

But (Y/n) was proven wrong when she heard three soft knocks outside of her room. “(L/n)-san? Are you awake?”

It was Senjurō, to whom she answered that she was awake and that she could come in— in the most chipper voice possible. She couldn’t help it, there was just something about the youngest Rengoku that made her all smiley and happy; like he was a bright ray of light in a dark and dreary world.

Much like how Kyōjurō was.

“Good morning, Senjurō-kun,” She greeted with a smile, quietly taking note of the change of clothes that was in his arms. They looked extremely nice; red, with black and gold embroidery, from her vantage point.

“Ani-ue got these for you earlier this morning… as soon as the shop opened,” Senjurō admitted with a soft, and teasing, smile; one that had (Y/n)’s cheeks flaring red at how sweet the gesture was, and how she just knew that a little boy was poking fun at her for making it so obvious that she liked his older brother.

Because, really, from how she had made moony eyes at him last night— there was no denying that Senjurō knew just how attracted she really was to Kyōjurō.

Thankfully, the younger Rengoku didn’t push his teasing more than that— opting instead to hand her the clothes, so she could get ready for the day.

It had taken a while for her to get herself done up in the kimono, but she eventually padded over to the shoji and poked her head outside, calling out softly, “Senjurō-kun? I’m done.”

When there was no answer, (Y/n) waited unsurely by the door for a little longer, until she felt awkward just standing there. So, she closed it once more, then padded over to her futon— folding everything up like she had seen in all the Japanese dramas that she had seen— and then moving towards her bag, that had been left a few ways away from where she had been sleeping.

She then rifled through the contents, sighing in relief when she found her passport and her wallet still in there— along with her phone, which had a few cracks on the screen.

“Fuck, that’s gonna be a bitch to use,” The young woman muttered in her native tongue, clicking her tongue in mild irritation as she tried to turning it on again.

No luck, however, which had her throwing it back in her bag and setting it back down on the floor. After all, she sincerely doubted that she would be able to use her paper bills and card to pay for anything in that era.

She was basically nothing more than a sitting duck, unless she stuck close to the Rengokus until she could figure out how and why she was even there in the first place. But those thoughts were put to a halt when she heard Kyōjurō’s telltale laughter from outside the house.

And, before she could stop her feet, she had already padded over to the shoji that led to the yard and had slid it open a tiny bit— peering outside with one eye, before opening the door a little bit wider to poke her head out.

“Kyō- Rengoku-san?” Tiptoeing out onto the engawa, (Y/n) looked left and right to see where his voice was coming from; and it wasn’t until she was standing at the end of the platform, while holding on to a beam, that she saw the familiar head of blond hair that she had been looking for.

Just in time, as well, because Kyōjurō saw her during pretty much the same moment— and the brighter and warmer smile that played at his lips was close to inevitable.

The Hashira felt his heart skip another beat in his chest, as he halfheartedly excused himself from the Kakushi that he had been talking to. And with a few quick strides, as well as a little vault up onto the engawa— to show off a little for the object of his affections— he greeted, “Good morning, (L/n)-san. Did you sleep well?”

“I did, thank you… for your hospitality. For the kimono, and for believing me too…” Her words were choppy at best, but the Hashira picked up on all of that she wanted to tell him— making his grin widen even more, until it was so bright that it was even more breathtaking than before.

Truly, no one could say that Rengoku Kyōjurō wasn’t quite the looker. Because he was.

“I just… saw it at the shop and thought of you,” The young man chuckled bashfully, even going as far as to lift a hand up to the back of his neck and scratch at it in such an adorable manner. “It looks really, really good on you.”

Partnered with the blush on his cheeks, (Y/n) was sure then that her heart was going to get tired sooner rather than later from beating so fast and hard in her chest. “Thank you, Rengoku-san.”

“Kyōjurō.” That had (Y/n)’s eyebrows furrowing in confusion, but even the man himself wasn’t sure what had come over him at that moment. All that he knew was that he wanted to hear her keep saying his name; his given name, like she had before. “You can call me Kyōjurō.”

Her answering smile was so beautiful that the Hashira had to resist the urge to cup her cheeks in his hands and… he didn’t even want to think about what he would have done to those alluring lips of hers.

“Okay, Kyōjurō,” The sound of his given name rolling off of her pretty lips had those butterflies fluttering around inside his stomach again, which only intensified when she added, “You can call me (Y/n).”

Meanwhile, Senjurō was looking at the couple from inside (Y/n)’s room; as he had just come back to get her to have breakfast with him. But the development that he had come across had him stifling a giggle, because the pair looked absolutely adorable out on the engawa.

Both of them flustered, barely a few feet away from each other, and making such moony gazes at each other— which they were oblivious to. It confirmed the younger Rengoku’s hunch that his brother might have finally found the woman for him.

Someone that he would love and cherish forever, and vice versa.

He almost didn’t want to cut in their little moment. “Ani-ue? (L/n)-san? I made breakfast for all of us.”

At the sound of Senjurō’s voice, both Kyōjurō and (Y/n) stepped away from each other; like the spell around them was broken, much like what had happened last night. And the younger Rengoku regretted having done so because, if he were to be honest, he would say that he just wanted his brother to be happy.

***

“What should we do today? Should we ask around if anyone knows anything about traversing time?” Kyōjurō offered as he set down his cup of water, looking over at (Y/n) and automatically smiling at her— a small one, but a smile all the same.

“Wouldn’t that be too… weird?”

“You have a point,” The Hashira laughed then, crossing his arms over his chest and wracking through his head to see what solutions he could offer to his cute guest.

And that had nothing to do with wanting to impress her even more. Nothing at all.

With that, however, both of them settled with retracing (Y/n)’s steps before she had jumped through time and space— going back to the temple near Kyōjurō’s house, and trying to look for any indicators that there had been something awry at play.

But there was none; not even a suspicious looking crack in the ground or any trees that could have served as some portal to another reality.

There was, however, a headache coming on for (Y/n). Especially when she came closer to the pagoda in the middle of the sacred grounds. It was as if it was the source of her affliction— which wouldn’t be far off from her own guess that what she was doing there was somehow tied to the wish she’d made to the gods.

The wish where she’d asked to meet her soulmate; someone who would love her wholeheartedly forever. And she couldn’t think of anyone else that she wanted to fit the bill more, than Rengoku Kyōjurō.

“Are you alright, (Y/n)?”

Kyōjurō’s words had her snapping out of her reverie; shaking her head a little, as if to shake off all of those thoughts, before turning to him. “I just… headache.”

Her words had absolutely escaped her then, since the sight of him reaching out to her was reminiscent of the vision that had flashed in her mind yesterday; just before she had been transported to his time and reality.

And to her absolute surprise, he pressed his fingers to the middle of her forehead and gently smoothed out the space between her eyebrows. She hadn’t even realized that she had been furrowing them in the first place, and that action had her blushing beet red; all the way up to the tips of her ears.

“You don’t need to frown that much, you look prettier with a smile,” The young man complimented quietly; for once abiding by the tranquil atmosphere at the temple.

That, and maybe because he wanted her to be the only one who heard those words; as they were specifically for her alone.

Slowly, he retracted his hand from (Y/n)’s forehead, and steadily tamped down the urge to pull her in and finally have a taste of those lips of hers. It wouldn’t have been a polite thing to do in such sacred grounds, in public— no less.

“Why don’t we talk a walk around the town instead? To give you some reprieve,” The Hashira offered with a smile. “And then we can come back here tomorrow to look for more information…”

Part of him wanted to jump the gun and tell her that she could stay with him forever, but even he knew that that was too forward. They had just met yesterday, after all; and she had told him that his reality only existed in a manga.

If that wasn’t the premise for something tragic, he didn’t know what was. And even though he was so tempted to give in to his budding feelings, he couldn’t put that much pressure on her.

It was true that she made him feel so much— so many good things that he didn’t even think he could feel about someone— but he also had a feeling that, sooner or later, she would want to go back to where she came from.

He didn’t want to be the cause of tethering her down there; especially not when demons were running rampant around the country.

But damn if he didn’t want to keep her with him forever.

Just a day and he was already in so deep; he was both excited and apprehensive of how much deeper his feelings would get for her the longer she stayed there.

Little did he know just how much she would come to mean to him.

***

“Kyōjurō? It’s time for breakfast!” (Y/n) called aloud, before banging the wooden spoon against the pot in her hand— letting the Flame Hashira know, in not so many words, that he should get out of his room then.

It had already been a few months since she had arrived in the Taisho era, and she would be lying if she said that she wasn’t worried about what was happening in her own timeline and reality— but there was realistically nothing that she could do about things.

So, she slowly started to accept the fact that she was stuck there. Not without worrying nightly about how her best friend was doing, and how her family was faring along. She still thought about them and constantly thought about ways that she could possibly get back home, but her efforts weren’t as valiant as before.

Especially since things with Kyōjurō had taken a more… romantic turn.

They had never said anything to confirm their feelings, but it was evident in the way that Kyōjurō would cup her face and hold her hand in private, that he felt the same way that (Y/n) felt for him.

It had been really surprising when he had first taken her hand, mostly because he had done so abruptly during the rare dinner when it was only the two of them eating. Hell, she had almost spilled her food when Kyōjurō just reached out and practically slapped his hand down on hers.

Thankfully, he had gotten gentler over the months, and he had learned to slowly slip her hand into his instead; which never failed to make (Y/n)’s heart flutter— each and every time.

The mere memory of his warm and rough hand enveloping hers had her smiling and blushing, as she set the bowls of food down on the dining table set for three people. Shinjurō never ate with them, and it wasn’t that he didn’t know of her existence— he knew, yet he preferred to stay in his room instead.

So (Y/n) had no idea what the Rengoku patriarch thought about her, or her relationship with his son.

She had been so deep in thought that she didn’t even feel the Hashira’s presence in the room; not until Kyōjurō sat down beside her.

Kyōjurō’s eyes zoned in on the young woman’s left cheek, as he had been doing since he had entered the room a few minutes before. He had been planning on kissing her for a long time, yet he always chickened out at the last minute— so he resolved that day, that he was going to do it.

Or he was going to double his morning exercise routine, as a form of punishment.

“Good morning, (Y/n).” He had been doing so well with his efforts too, what with him leaning in to try and brush his lips against her soft cheek— only for her to turn towards him when he had placed his hand on her back.

And, in a turn of events that he could have only dreamt of until that point, his lips slanted against her in a faint kiss.

Immediately, both their eyes widened in surprise, yet they remained frozen in place; both of them not knowing where things were going next. Not until the Flame Hashira decided to jump in and pull her in further against him, all while pressing his lips harder against her own.

She was so warm, his lips were tingling slightly at the feeling of kissing her, and he wished that the feeling would never end— as he fought off the urge to completely melt against her; along with tamping down the voice in his head that told him to pull her onto his lap and claim her lips thoroughly.

But, at the very last second, he slowly pulled back from her and took a deep breath to calm his racing pulse. He didn’t want to rush her into things; that wasn’t how he was raised.

After all, he wanted to marry her first.

The thought of marriage didn’t even faze him, since he had been considering it a few months after knowing (Y/n). Kyōjurō wanted nothing more than to ask for her hand in marriage, to show her that he really would cherish her forever if she chose to stay with him, but there was still the matter of her not being from that timeline that held him back from doing so.

When before he hadn’t wanted to hold her back from wanting to return to her own reality, he was beginning to succumb to the selfishness that brewed within him.

If given the chance to keep her forever, he would take it in a heartbeat.

“I…” (Y/n) whispered, face completely red and a little bit winded, as she lifted a hand and gently pressed her fingers against her lips.

Finding her shyness extremely cute, the Hashira’s lips pulled up at the corners into a grin— as he pulled a little bit away from her; if only to see more of her adorable expression. “You’re so beautiful.”

Those words only served to shock the young woman even further; eyes widening in surprise, as they flickered up and stared into those piercing red and yellow irises that she had come to love even more.

Much more than she did, than when she had thought he was nothing but a character in a manga. And so much more than she had loved any other person.

It was almost scary how much she loved and cared for Kyōjurō.

So, it absolutely tore her heart when she heard that he had been called to Oyakata-sama’s estate later that afternoon, which had her heart sinking to her stomach. It never boded well for her whenever Kyōjurō went away on missions, but to know that what she had been dreading was unfolding right before her eyes once more— for real, that time— had her feeling weak in the knees as she waited for Kyōjurō at home.

Only, instead of seeing her beloved walking through the gates, she saw his crow flying overhead— with a letter tied to one of its feet.

Her heart sank at the mere sight of it, and even more when she unfurled the parchment to see a letter that told her that he would be back in a few days.

That he just had to deal with a demon, and that he had to take the long-haul train to find it.

“No, no, no, no,” Her breaths came in shallow bursts, and her heart had felt like it had stopped inside her chest. Still, with her entire body awash with a cold and crippling kind of fear, she forced her legs to take her to the room that she had been given within the estate.

Once there, she fished out the pouch where she kept the money that Kyōjurō had been giving her— so she could buy things that she wanted— and didn’t even bother to check in with Senjurō before she left.

(Y/n) couldn’t tell him, because she would make sure that he had nothing to worry about. She would make sure that Kyōjurō lived, because she couldn’t take losing him again— and on a scale that was real, that time.

Reading about it was a different kind of pain, but experiencing it would make her crazy.

He had become such an important person to her, that to lose him would equal to her losing herself. So, that was how she found herself setting off to follow him to the train station.

Unfortunately, she had no clue where it was; nor could she ask anyone for directions— as most people shied away from her. With her being a foreigner and all, most of the locals had taken to simply ignoring her because of Kyōjurō; and it pissed her off to no end that she they wouldn’t even look her in the eye.

Kyōjurō and Senjurō had been the only ones to accept her wholeheartedly into their home, and she couldn’t be more thankful for that. Albeit a little suspicious about the gods once more playing a hand with how she had come across them, because there was no way that it was pure coincidence that she had traversed realities the same day that he decided to visit the temple on a whim.

Had she not come across them that day, she didn’t even know where she would have ended up.

And with that last thought swimming in her head, she straightened her shoulders out and took in a deep breath before soldiering on to where she had once had Senjurō mention the train station.

If memory served her right, and if she understood him correctly, then she would get there with about twenty minutes of walking.

“Why isn’t Uber a thing here?” She whispered under her breath, huffing as she fanned herself with her hand and started power walking towards where she guessed the station was.

Only, she had made a wrong turn at one point— and had to retrace her steps to the main road; where she then tried her hardest to make out the characters from ‘station’ on the sign boards and flyers that she had passed by.

And after an extra half hour, she had finally arrived at the station; met with so many people falling in line to get tickets for the first and only train that was leaving for the day. She almost wanted to tell people not to buy any of the tickets, and tell them to go home, yet she was but a tiny speck in a sea of people.

A foreigner, no less; so, the chances of anyone taking her seriously were nil.

Part of her was tempted to tell Kyōjurō about it, but she didn’t want to alert the lower moon demon controlling the train about her knowledge of things; as that would only put her at the forefront of his kill list, and would most likely put more people in danger.

She had to be smart about things, so she hatched a quick— and half-cocked— plan to hide in the last train car until she was sure that the train conductor was back out towards the first train car, before she snuck in to save Kyōjurō and the others.

“Oh thank all the gods that I took this part to heart,” The young woman whispered once more, as she looked down at her ticket and conveniently threw it in the trash bin.

She wanted to hop in the train car that her beloved was on, if only to see him safe and sound— and eating his mountain of bento box meals— but bypassed that car quickly as she hastened to the last one.

And, with one look behind herself as the train whistle blew, to see if the coast was clear, she hopped on the platform to the cargo hold and quickly snuck inside the dark and stifling car.

As nervous as she was, her heart pounding wildly in her chest was something she expected; what was weird was the tightness that came with it. It was suffocating, and beginning to weigh down on her shoulders, yet she shook the feeling off in favor of finding a trunk that wasn’t stacked up to sit on.

Once she was situated nicely— just in time too, as the train began to lurch forward— she began to run through all of the manga panels in her head. She could only vividly remember the part where Akaza appeared, as that part was such a painfully memorable one, but the few flashes of the train panels helped her gauge the timeline.

Plus, it also helped her bide her time; calming her racing thoughts a little, since she knew that Kyōjurō and the others would be able to handle the demon with little to no problems.

Once she heard the train’s whistle, she took that as a signal to get up from her perch on one of the trunks— making her way towards the steel door that led to the other cars.

Only, when she tried to turn the knob, it was to find that it was chained from the outside.

“Fuck. Fuck,” The young woman whispered under her breath, trying desperately to push the door open— on the off chance that the porter had been lazy and didn’t latch the padlock on the chains. But, as her luck would have it, the padlock was firmly in place, keeping the door firmly shut.

Instantly, her eyes darted around the dim room, trying to look for a way to get out of there before things went to hell inside the train. But she found no other exits except the main doors, as the windows had metal screens on them to keep thieves out.

The train lurched beneath her at that moment, making her cry out as she got jostled against the door. And it wouldn’t have been bad, had the mountain of luggage behind her not come falling down; essentially trapping her right where she stood.

Just when she thought that things could get worse for her, they did when the heaviness that had been brewing inside her since she had boarded the train began to bubble up. It had her fighting back the migraine that practically split her head, all while resisting the urge to reach up and clutch at her tightening chest. She was left like a sitting duck, barely holding herself back from crying and screaming out her beloved’s name.

That was, until she remembered that Kyōjurō would be protecting the last five car trains; which most likely included the passenger car right across the car that she was in.

“Kyōjurō! Kyōjurō!” She whisper-yelled, wishing to all the gods that the demon on top of the train wouldn’t pay much attention to the ruckus that she was causing.

(Y/n) then began banging on the door with her open hand; heavy and frantic taps that she was sure the Flame Hashira would hear the moment that he came darting to the last passenger car.

Her hunch was right, thankfully, as Kyōjurō picked up on her faint calls through the noise of the train and the ruckus that the demon was making. And hearing her voice above all of that felt akin to having a bucket of ice-cold water being thrown at him; as icy fear gripped his chest.

“(Y/n)?!” The Hashira called out, kicking down the door that the demon had sealed shut with its flesh, eyes wide with panic and his heart racing in his chest the more that he heard her banging against the door and calling out his name.

Not wasting anymore time, Kyōjurō threw a quick glance over his shoulder and huffed out a frustrated sigh as he was torn between doing another mad dash to the front of all the carriages that he was protecting.

But it was a no brainer what his choice was: it was to save (Y/n) first, because she would always be his top priority.

And so, with a small leap to get to the cargo hold, he swung down the hilt of his sword and broke the lock that held the chains together; wrenching the door open and opening his arms just in time for his beloved to jump into them.

Tears marred her cheeks, but it didn’t appear that she had noticed that she had been crying in the first place, as she made no move to wipe them away. That made him feel even worse, but he brought his left hand up to cup the back of her head as he pressed her cheek to the crook of his neck.

“I’m here, shh, you’re okay. I’m here, my love.” In any other time, the effortless use of the nickname would have made him blush so hard but, at that moment, it only brought him relief. “I have you. You’re okay.”

He didn’t know why she was even there in the first place, but it really wasn’t the time or the place to ask her that. So, he decided to just ask her later.

(Y/n)’s arms automatically wrapped themselves around Kyōjurō’s middle, as she held herself as close to him as possible. The pain she felt was beginning to intensify, and the tightness in her chest began to double— and all she could do was cry; no matter how much she forced herself to numb herself down from all the negative sensations assaulting her.

She clung as tightly as she could to the back of the Hashira’s uniform, being selfish enough to not want him to part from her— because parting from her would mean certain death for him.

There was nothing more that (Y/n) wanted than for her beloved man to stay alive— so they could make all of her wishes for their future a reality. A family with him— the house in the mountains that she wanted, all the kids that she’d only seen him looking at with a sad longing in his eyes; she wanted to make him the happiest man in the world.

But she also knew that she couldn’t let it cost anyone’s life.

“(Y/n), I have to go.” Reluctantly, the blond pulled the young woman away from him; looking down at her tear-stained face before leaning down so he could brush his lips against her. “I’ll come back for you, just stay here.”

And with that, he untangled himself from his beloved (Y/n)’s arms dived back into the foray with the demon; making as quick work of it as possible; all while protecting the rest of the passengers on the train.

It was his duty, after all.

But he would be lying if he said that he didn’t want things to get over and done with as quickly as possible. Which had him really thankful— yet slightly fearful for (Y/n)’s safety— when the train derailed; sending people flying, and carriages falling to the wayside of the tracks.

Kyōjurō didn’t even wait another second to see the demon start to disintegrate, because his feet carried him towards the object of his affections; his future wife.

She had been tossed back within the luggage car, making his heart sink to his stomach as he hurriedly pushed away all of the trunks and luggage bags that were blocking her from coming to him.

Her sobs were soft and muffled as she bit down on her bottom lip, but they still felt like tiny pinpricks of ice to the Flame Hashira’s heart; especially when he saw how battered she had gotten in the fiasco.

The bruise forming on her cheek was minor, but he still found himself hugging her as tight as he could— burying his face in her hair, as she clung to him once more.

In the distance, Kyōjurō picked up another presence— one that had him looking up and surveying the area. And he found himself pulling away from (Y/n) to have his hand ready at the hilt of his sword. Whatever had come was powerful, and he wanted her nowhere near it.

“Stay here, and don’t go anywhere.”

The young woman’s eyes widened at that implication, knowing what was to come; getting her stuck in a moral dilemma, that had her pinned between a rock and another hard place. Yet, she would be damned if she didn’t admit that it hurt so much. “No, no, no, you can’t go. Please. Please, Kyōjurō. Please.”

If only she could help him, then she would have. She would have done everything in her power to help him.

Her hands tried to hold him where he was, but Kyōjurō still pulled away from her again, feeling something in his gut telling him to stay put. But he wasn’t doing that; not when he had so many people to protect— especially the person whom he was going to ask to marry him after all that had happened.

“Don’t worry about me dying here,” And so, with a reassuring smile at her, the blond whispered, “I’ll come back to you, I promise.”

Those words didn’t reassure (Y/n) one bit but, before she could reach out and hold him again, the pain bearing down on her had her clutching her chest and gritting her teeth; unbeknownst to Kyōjurō, whom had just darted towards where he was sensing the newcomer’s dangerous aura.

It was as if there was a vise wrapped around (Y/n)’s neck; making her breaths come out in ragged pants, and her muscles seize up with the overall agony that coursed through her body.

And it was at that moment that she realized that, little by little, she was starting to disappear; her fingertips turning into golden dust at first, and slowly extending up to her knuckles.

“No. Not now, please. Not now,” She whimpered, completely helpless, as she stared at her shaking hands. “Fuck.”

A loud bang had her looking up from her own dilemma, making her see the bigger picture and urging her to move before she thought about it. Her legs began to carry her as fast as they could to where the cloud of dust had formed, with her being completely uncaring about how she felt and how she would end up.

What mattered to her was getting to Kyōjurō, and saving him, even if it cost her life.

Just up ahead, she could see only flashes of Akaza effortlessly fighting off Kyōjurō’s attacks, which had her pushing her legs even faster— all while more and more tears rolled down her cheeks.

“KYŌJURŌ!” She cried in a broken and hoarse tone, which fell on deaf ears as he was too engrossed in fighting off the Upper Moon demon.

It had only been a mere few minutes, but the Flame Hashira was already battered and bruised; his ribs were broken, and he was sure that he was bleeding internally at that point, yet he still pushed forward.

Only stopping when he had missed and Akaza had managed to land a painful blow to his left eye. It put him at such a hard spot, yet he didn’t want to give up.

He couldn’t give up.

His breath was also coming in shaky bursts at that moment, and his entire body ached, but he was thankful for the little reprieve that he received as he geared up for one more blow; adjusting his hold on the hilt of his sword and concentrating all of his efforts into the tenth form.

However, just as he and Akaza charged forward, (Y/n)’s voice cut through Akaza’s nonsensical chatter; and it felt like the world had come to a standstill as both of them looked over to where she was.

And it was to feel his entire body go numb when he saw her starting to disintegrate; golden dust emanating from every part of her that all the fight in him almost leaving his body. Had it not been for his last-minute thinking, he wouldn’t have taken the little window that (Y/n)’s distraction provided to swing his sword and cut off the Upper Moon demon’s head.

It fell to the ground with a muffled thud, but he couldn’t care less about it then— thinking that his job was done— as he raced towards (Y/n) and caught her just in time as she collapsed to the ground.

He hadn’t even realized that he was also crying, not until he had (Y/n) cradled in his arms as she cupped his cheeks with her half-disintegrated hands. “(Y/n), what’s wrong? What’s happening? What should I do?”

Kyōjurō’s mind was racing with so many thoughts at once, yet he could only manage to speak in broken fragments— as his sobs cut through his sentences. He sounded every inch of the broken man that he felt.

It was as if someone had just ripped his heart out right in front of him.

“I’ll… I’ll find you in your reality. I promise. You won’t ever be alone ever again, (Y/n); you mean everything to me.” His confession poured from his lips, frantic and garbled, but still legible to everyone’s ears. But what had everyone looking away was when the Flame Hashira dipped his head and claimed his beloved’s lips as the sun rose over the horizon.

Holding himself against her, all while he devolved into such loud and heartbroken sobs as he promised over and over that he would find her in her own time and reality.

After all, he was never one to back down from promises; especially when it came to the one and only love of his life.

***

When (Y/n) came to, it was to the sight of her best friend hovering above her— with her face stained with tears, and her eyes looking completely panicked. “What are you even doing here? I’ve been looking for you for almost an hour now! I thought you got kidnapped!”

Slowly, the young woman looked around her and noted that she was back at the temple in Setagaya; with her back flush against the stone pavement just behind the pagoda.

Thankfully, no one else was there to see her in such an embarrassing predicament.

“And when did you get a kimono as nice as that? Did you leave me behind just to get that? Christ, (Y/n)!” (F/n) rambled through her tears, roughly picking her best friend up by the shoulders and holding her close as she called her a dumbass over and over.

“I…” She couldn’t even answer straight, as what had transpired in the Taishō era flashed in her mind. It had her thinking if it had all been a hallucination, but when she looked down at the kimono she wore, she could tell that it wasn’t.

Because there was no other explanation for the fiery red kimono she donned, other than her traversing time and spending almost a year with Rengoku Kyōjurō. It seemed to her that time flowed differently in both realities, because she was sure that ten months had already passed.

“You what?”

“I was with him… with Kyōjurō,” (Y/n) whispered, feeling her own tears well up in her eyes, before they began falling down her cheeks. “I… he fought Akaza, and he lived… but I disappeared.”

“You’re not making any sense, (Y/n). Did you hit your head hard?” With those words, (F/n) reached up and felt for any bumps to the back of her friend’s head— only to find none. “And where’s your bag? Did you leave it somewhere?”

The young woman sat there instead of answering, completely frozen as her silent tears gradually turned into sobs. All the while, her arms wrapped themselves around her friend, and she cried her heart out— for all the things that had been, and all of the things that could have been between her and her beloved Hashira.

She didn’t even know how long they sat there on the ground but, once she was all cried out, (F/n) transferred her to one of the benches that were strewn around the temple; letting her get her bearings, before she set off to try and help her friend find her bag.

With every minute that passed, the pain in (Y/n)’s heart grew harder and harder to deal with— and she wanted nothing more than to go home at that moment, if only to curl up into a ball and try to remember the way that Kyōjurō’s lips felt against hers.

“You look so sad, my love…” The familiar voice had the aforementioned woman looking up, especially when she felt a warm and gentle hand cup her cheek and tilt her face up.

Slowly, tears that she didn’t know she could still produce welled up in her eyes— as she took in the glorious sight that Kyōjurō made in his own black kimono. He had a scar on his closed left eye, but it gave him such a rugged edge that— dare she say— was not unattractive at all. And partnered with the tears, her lips pulled up at the corners in a disbelieving yet relieved smile; something that was all for him as she sprung up and wrapped her arms around him.

“You’re here! How?” Her hands clung tightly to him, curling into the material of his clothes as she buried her face in the crook of his neck— taking in the scent that was so intoxicating and entirely Kyōjurō.

“Well, I had to return your bag…” The blond chuckled, as he ensconced his beloved in his arms— brushing his lips against the crown of her head, and smiling when he felt her lips brush against his skin. “That, and I wanted to ask if you would marry me.”

“Yes! Yes, but… how?” (Y/n) answered with a slight laugh, pulling back and cupping Kyōjurō’s cheeks in her hands; as if to make sure that he really was there.

The young man grinned then, taking hold of one of her hands and turning his head to press his lips against the inside of her wrist. “It took a while to arrange everything with Oyakata-sama, and to figure out how to get here, but I’m sure that one of his descendants from this time and reality would have my identification papers for me.”

Silence passed between the couple then, as (Y/n) tossed and turned his words in her head, before giving in and wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips against his— in a much-anticipated kiss.

She had so many questions left unanswered, and she was extremely tempted to face the gods once more and ask them what exactly was happening, but she reckoned that it was best not to challenge them anymore.

After all, she had gotten her wish: someone who would love and cherish her forever; and that man was Rengoku Kyōjurō.

BONUS:

(F/n) huffed irately as she stepped back from a thicket of bushes within the temple grounds, still feeling cross with her best friend for disappearing just like that— but not understanding what she was getting at with her explanation of meeting a manga character.

And, finally feeling defeated in her search for (Y/n)’s bag, she circled back to where she left the other woman— only to see her pulling away from a kiss with a weird looking man; someone that looked eerily similar to Rengoku from the Demon Slayer manga.

Instantly, her hackles were raised, as she let out a barking cry, “Hey, you cool cosplay bitch, get away from her!”

Kyōjurō’s eyebrows furrowed at that, as he didn’t understand a lick of what the other woman had said— but he turned back to his future wife and asked, “Is that the friend that you’d mentioned before? She seems protective. You’ve been in really good hands, then.”

“Didn’t you hear me, you weirdo? Get your hands off of (Y/n)!”

“She has my thanks for protecting you all this time.”

[pinoyrella]

“A Love So Beautiful” Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Dear Tsukishima Kei

FT: Tsukishima Kei, Yamaguchi Tadashi, Yachi Hitoka, Hinata Shoyo, Kageyama Tobio, Vice Principal, Minaho Ono + 3 Mean Third Years

TW: “Light” Rejection. Acts of bullying/teasing/taunting. Mild Language.

GENRE: Fluff, Comedy, Angst, Coming of Age + Slow Burn

Word Count: 3,300+

“A LOVE SO BEAUTIFUL MASTERLIST”

a/n: i recommend to read the prologue and character list before diving in! it may help the story make a bit more sense! thank you, and i hope you enjoy!! lubbb uuuu!! 💞

“Welcome to Karasuno High, where dreams fly. Today you are a proud crow of Karasuno, and tomorrow Karasuno will be proud of you.” The intercom says loudly as the students leave the auditorium, the orientation being over. You see Tsukishima on your way out, making your way to him. 

“Tsukki!” You say cheerfully as you jump to him. He takes a step back before preparing his headphones. “We are in the same class again this year! This is called destiny, don’t you think so?” You let out a cheeky smile as he looks at you, only to look back front, putting his headphones in.

“So the entry score for this school is quite low this year. I guess they’re letting anyone into college preparatory classes.” He replies bluntly, not making eye contact and placing his headphones over his head.

“Kei! Only by 5 points! But thanks to that 5 points, or else I wouldn’t have been able to get in.” You say looking up into the sky. “How lucky I am!” You clap happily.

There's awkward silence for a moment as you gulp nervously and clear your throat. Turning to look behind you, to your sides, before back at him in front.

“Tsukishima Kei.” You call out clearly. The tall boy stops walking and turns to you, as you take a few steps towards him, leaning onto your toes, cupping a hand to your cheek. The lean boy removes the headphone from one ear before leaning down to reach your height. “I like you”. Tsukishima's face contorts into a bit of shock while allowing red to spread through his cheeks, as he watches your face redden and you give a genuine smile, before replying harshly. “I don’t like you.” He puts his headphones back on, and begins walking at his pace again. You stand there taken aback by his cruel and blunt response. A small tear is felt ripping into your heart before you respond to his rejection. “Okay… I’ll figure it out.” You squeaked before running off ahead of him. Tsukishima watches as you run away.

--

You sat at your desk at home, scrolling through your computer with a hand under your chin. An idea popping into your head. ‘How to get a boy to like you’ you type before hitting the search bar. “Be yourself...” You read on the screen. Grabbing the table mirror by your desk, you place it in front of you and stare at your reflection for a brief five seconds. “I’m y/n!” You let out a small laugh, combing your hands through your hair before going back to the browser, typing in ‘How to swoon a guy’. “Write a… love letter?” Conflicted, you immediately text your best friend, Yachi. 

Recipient: “Yachi-bear🐻”

Y/N: “heeey yachhhh, can u pls help me w somethin tmmr?”

Yachi-bear🐻 is typing....

Yachi-bear🐻: “Of course! I’ll see you first thing in the morning.”

Y/N: “you are an angel sent from heaven, ilyyyyy bb”

You place your phone on your desk, before turning to grab some of your “special occasion” stationery supplies. “Pink paper… check! Pink envelope… check! .38 Gel pen… check! Dinosaur stickers… check! Let’s get love letter writing ready!” You say to yourself before pulling your hair back with a headband.

You end up falling asleep on your desk half past 4am.

-

“Good morning y/n!” A short blonde girl cheers as she sits beside you. “Y/n?” You are sound asleep on your desk, head in your arms “Tsukki… Zzzz…” The blonde takes a deep breath before- “Y/N!!!” “AH!” You wake up startled, facing the culprit who had just interrupted your dream wedding with Tsukishima. “Ah, Yachi! Good Morning!” You give a tired wave before laying your head back down on the desk. “Ah ah ah! I woke up extra early just for you! Don’t you dare fall asleep on me.” Yachi grabs your head before it hits the desk, facing you to her. “What is it you needed help with?” She asks. “Oh! Yes I remember now!” You jolt awake. Digging into your bag, you pull out 3 pink envelopes. “I need help writing a love letter!” You wave the pink envelopes in your hand.

Yachi pauses, her brain short circuiting before gasping. She grabs your hand, leaning you in closer. “Are you really?!” You pull away before blushing heavily, nodding and giving a small smile. “AAAHHH!” Yachi lets out a squeal before you slap your hand to her mouth, quieting her. “SHHHH!!!” “I’m so sorry, I’m just so excited for you! Here lemme help!” She pulls out a blank sheet of paper, handing it to you with her pen. “You’re going to want a rough draft before using one of those.” She points towards the pink envelopes in hand. “Yes! Let’s go!”

-

Not even 15 minutes pass and the two of you are stuck. 

“Yaaaaachi” You whine as you place your face into your hands. “Don’t worry y/n, we can figure this out!” Yachi pats your shoulder, trying to comfort you. Hinata makes his way towards his seat behind Yachi, fresh kare pan in hand as he sets his books on his desk. “Goof Morfinf” He says, kare pan now stuffed into his mouth. And as on queue; the bell rings, indicating class has begun. 

Throughout class, you spend your time writing and glancing towards the direction of the blonde you were writing for. Frustrated half of the time, the bell for the start of break period rings and you make your way towards Yachi before seeing Yamaguchi approach her. “Yachi-san, Ono-sensei is calling for you.” You watch as the flustered girl makes her way up the desk, running out of the class. You turn around hoping to find your orange haired sunshine of a friend behind you, but at last he has vanished. Sighing in frustration, you reach for your wallet before heading to the vending machines.

As you reach the vending machine, you drop your coins in the mini slot. After dropping your coins, you hover your finger over the ‘Strawberry Milk’ button. You press, and press, and press. But the vending machine doesn’t seem to be responding. Just to add to your frustrated mood, you raise your leg ready to kick the shit out of the machine.

Around the corner comes Kageyama Tobio, he looks at the sheet of paper in his hands trying to navigate his way to said “Class-4”. As he turns, he looks up from hearing a grunt. His eyes widen at the sight of you raising your leg. Not too far away in feet from him, you kick the vending machine, the two of you hearing a CLINK as the desired product comes from the bottom bin. Kageyama is stuck frozen there, you still haven’t noticed the presence.

You drop to your knees, grabbing the strawberry milk carton you bought. Stopping as you feel two, you grab both and pull them out. Confused, you stare at the cartons of milk before finally noticing the presence only a few feet from you. Looking up and making eye contact with the boy who just witnessed your violent and aggressive actions with a poor machine, he tenses up visibly before you offer one of the milk cartons to him. “Here” You hold the milk carton to him. The boy stands there confused before reaching out for the milk carton. “Sorry you had to see that” Kageyama stands there dumbfounded. “Kageyama.” “I’m sorry?” “Kageyama Tobio, m-my name. It’s nice to meet you.” He says taking the milk carton from your hand, and using the other to offer a handshake. From his kind but super awkward gesture, you feel yourself relax before taking his hand and shaking it. “Nice to meet you Kageyama Tobio.” You give him a soft smile, and for a second he felt his heart skip a beat. “I’m f/n l/n.” You both pull away before he gives a nod. “But you can call me boss.” You say jokingly, giving him a wink with finger guns. He lets out a small chuckle before looking at his hand at the strawberry milk carton. “Sounds good, and thanks boss.” You both part ways as you make your way back to class, thinking of the recent encounter with Kageyama.

You pause in your tracks realizing. ‘Wait.. is he new?’ Worried he would get lost in this hell of a campus school, you ran back to where you had parted ways, only to find him gone. ‘Awh shit.’ You sigh before making your way back to class.

-

You make your way past Tsukishima at his desk, headphones in as he scrolls through his phone, before plopping into your seat head down. The bell rings once more indicating that class has once again begun.

Moments pass until Yachi makes her way back inside the class, sitting beside you. Immediately, you turn to your best friend about to tell her about the weird interaction with this strange looking boy. “Yachi, you wouldn’t believe what happened earlier, I was at the vending machine and-” 

“Y/n.” A matured voice calls out to you, interrupting your conversation with Yachi. You freeze before replying with a shy “Yes Ono-Sensei?” “Would you mind coming up to the board and writing the Kanji for this word?” She asks, ready to hand the chalk to you. “Yes ma’am.” You hear chuckling coming from the class before grabbing the chalk and making your way to the blackboard. “The word is mountain. Write the Kanji for ‘mountain’.” She repeats. You stand facing the blackboard, a little too long for your liking. No idea coming to your mind. 

“Fork” You hear a familiar male voice say. You and the class turn towards the front door to the classroom where the voice had come from. Kageyama makes a “3-finger salute” motion with his hand, before you go back to the blackboard writing “山” before handing the chalk back to Ono-Sensei, and scurrying back to your seat. Ono-sensei then speaks after you are seated. “Bold of you to interrupt my class, Mr. Kageyama. Takeda-Sensei has mentioned you, please introduce yourself to the class.” She says as said boy makes his way in. “My name is Kageyama Tobio and I set for volleyball. Nice to meet you” He finishes with a polite bow. “Good, now take your seat behind y/n.” Ono-Sensei says as she picks up her textbook, ready to begin the next lesson. Kageyama gives you a small nod before greeting a “hey boss”. Tsukishima turns from hearing the new guy speak to you call you boss. Already feeling irritated with the new kid.

Again, you spend this period finalizing your love letters on the pretty pink stationary, adding a dinosaur sticker on the final “final” love letter, that you plan on giving to Tsukishima.

-

The bell for lunch rings and the students quickly make their way out of class. Yachi turns her attention to you. “Alright y/n let's get back to business! I’ll meet you outside!” She says as she jumps and exits. “Y-Yachi wait!” You quickly grab your letters, but one slips from your grasp. Before you can even realize, you run after your friend leaving one of the rough draft letters on the floor. Tsukishima being one of the last students to leave his desk, he gets up only to notice a pink envelope under his foot. Bending over to pick it up, he notices his name scribbled over the front of the envelope. Curious, he sits back down and opens the unfinished rough draft-letter.

As you finally catch up to Yachi, you notice a couple of third years towering over her. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you!” She says bowing repeatedly. Just as one of the third years takes a step towards her, you maneuver your way in between, blocking them from her. As you do, your arms spread wide, the third years take notice of the pink envelopes in your hand.

“What’s this?” One says, snatching one of the pink envelopes from your grasp. Your eyes widen in shock as you try to reach for it. “Is this a little love letter? To your little girlfriend? Is that who you were protecting?” The third years snicker before tearing your letter open. “NO!” You yell in hopes for them to not put you through this torture. 

At this time, the commotion between the two of you and the group of third years has caused attention among the students nearby.

Yamaguchi makes his way running back to the classroom to notify Hinata of the situation. His entrance causing Kageyama to wake from his nap, and for Tsukishima to listen into their conversation. “Hinata- Yachi and Y/n- Third years- Fight” He says breathlessly before Hinata jolts from his seat. Running out with Yamaguchi. Kageyama soon follows and Tsukishima sits there, internally worried, but letting out a restless sigh, folding the letter back into the envelope and sliding it into your desk, before running out.

“My dear love-” “Please stop!” You try pleading but the third years wouldn’t. “Oh how I love your eyes- your smile-” Yachi is near to tears at this point, trying her best to help you grab the letter from their hands. “How I can’t imagine a world without you in my life-” The third years pass the note to each other to read the lines before a short, but fast figure jumps, snatching the letter from their hands.

The third years stop in confusion, you and Yachi turning to see Hinata’s head facing the ground, before turning back to the third years. “You know it isn’t very nice to read love letters out loud.” He says folding the letter and placing it into his pocket. “Hinata-” “Oh? And what is a shrimp like you going to do about it?” One says. You feel someone pull you to the side, feeling the soft cushion of someone pressed to you. Looking up you meet eyes with Kageyama. “You okay boss?” He looks back at the third years before calling out a “Hey!” sending shivers down their spine. “Did you hurt my boss?” The third years, intimidated by this new face and his very tall stature, shake their head in denial. Kageyama lets go of you as he rolls his sleeves up, cocking his head to the side. “Y/n- Yachi-San-” You feel another hand grab your wrist, pulling you from the situation. 

Tsukishima makes his way through the crowd, he watches as Hinata and Kageyama begin to corner the third years, and as Yamaguchi drags the two of you from the situation. Just as he was about to intervene. “Hey! What is going on here!” The kids begin to disperse, besides Hinata, Kageyama, Tsukishima and the cornered third years. “Picking on your seniors!?”

-

The heavy drop of 4 textbooks are heard coming from the desk. You and the students in your class flinch as the Vice Principle stands in front of your class, pacing back and forth.

“This class has displayed absolute despicable behavior within the first month of the school year beginning” He starts. “Never in my 15 years of teaching have I thought to ever give this kind of lecture, let alone to a college preparatory class.” He continues. “Oh how disappointed I am with this class.” He stops walking before turning to face the class.

 Scanning the classroom, he catches you fumbling in your desk, you notice one of you pink envelopes but don’t remember sliding one of your letters into your desk. “F/N L/N!” He yells. “Y-yes sir?” “Bring them up here.” “I’m sorry?-” The slam of heavy textbooks is heard again. “Don’t play dumb with me. Hand THEM over.” He repeats, emphasizing ‘them’ as his eyes sneer towards you. You shake as you pull the letter from your desk out, as well as the other one on your desk, making your way towards the front of the class, handing them to the Vice Principal. “Go back to your seat.” He says after snatching the letters from your hand. “Hinata Shoyo” “Yes sir!” Hinata jumps frightened. “The one in your pocket too.” Hinata feels his pocket before giving you an apologetic look, forgetting how he had the letter that the senior snatched in his pocket. Making his way to the front, he hands it to the Vice Principal before taking a seat.

The class stays silent as the Vice Principal keeps a single envelope in his hand, setting down the other too. You immediately notice the dinosaur sticker sealing the envelope, your gut clenched and your heart racing. ‘He’s going to read my love letter to Tsukishima to the class.’ Is the only thought going on in your head.

“Let’s see what’s in this letter that gets you all so riled up.” Whispers spread around the class before the sound of a chair sliding stops the Vice Principal from unfolding the paper. Kageyama stands there awkwardly for a moment, thinking of something to say. “I-I, Mr. Wig- Bald Principal-” He stutters and the students snicker around him. “QUIET BOY! Just because you are new doesn’t mean I won’t be going easy on you.” The Vice Principal glares. The sound of another chair sliding causes the Vice Principal to face the shorter boy next to him. “He’s right bald- I mean Vice Principal sir!” Hinata tries to stall. Before the Principal could let out a word, the sound of another chair sliding caused him to face forward, Yachi. “S-sir please… Y/n worked really hard and it’s my fault we are here in this… this situation and…” Yamaguchi slides his chair, standing and speaking up. “Yachi-san excuse me, Vice Principal I apologize for the intrusion on this discussion but” He looks to Yachi before looking at the Vice principal. “I find that it is an invasion of privacy if you were to read y/n’s letter, especially in front of the class.” 

The Vice Principal stands there appalled. “Yamaguchi Tadashi. I have thought of you as a good and well behaved student. How dare you not only interrupt a classmate, but question my actions on what is right or wrong!” Before Yamaguchi could reply, the chair beside him slid. “Yamaguchi is right. It IS an invasion of privacy. I would suggest you leave y/n’s letters alone, and let this situation go. It is unnecessary and it is taking time from our academics.” Tsukishima speaks clearly, yet with his blunt tone.

The Vice Principal pauses in shock and confusion. “W- I- TSUKISHIMA KEI!” From the harsh call of his name, the blonde boy’s still unfazed. “OUT OF ALL STUDENTS-” The Vice Principal stops before crying furiously. “Y/N, YAMAGUCHI, HINATA, KAGEYAMA, YACHI, TSUKISHIMA! THE SIX OF YOU IN MY OFFICE AFTER CLASS!” He lets out before storming out of the class.

The six of you let out a sigh of relief before sitting back down, looking at each other giving a thumbs up.

-

The group of six students from Class-4 are seated in the Vice Principal’s office.

“And I don’t want any of you to leave! Not after you write me a 1,000 word apology for your atrocious behavior today!” He instructs as he sits back in his chair.

“Yamaguchi-kun” Yachi says quietly, catching the attention of the freckled boy sitting beside her. “T-thank you for saving me- us… twice today…” She thanks, blush spreading over her face. The boy nods before returning a soft smile. “It’s no worries, I-I’m always here to help.” He respond quietly, his heart skipping beats.

“Tsukki~” You call out to the blonde beside you. “Tsuuuuuuukki~” You call once again. The boy lets out an audible sigh before making eye contact with you. Your faces just inches apart. “You stood up for me today~” You gave a wide smile, before Tsukishima took the notebook he was writing on, pulling it up and between the two of you, using it to block your face from his. 

“Hey Kageyama” “Huh?” “You said you’re a setter? Can you set for me?!” Hinata whispers loudly to the blue-eyed boy. “Stupid! If we make it out alive here!” The Vice Principal lets out a hiss as the six freeze in their spot, making eye contact with each other before letting out a low chuckle.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading everyone! Again I sincerely apologize for the horrible HORRIBLE English and grammar and writing in general! Though I hope you enjoyed this chapter 🥺I’m still having a lil bit of a hard time figuring out how to use tags and label the chapters and genres, please bare with me for a little longer! Next chapter release date will be announced soon on the masterlist!!! Stay Safe and Healthy, until then!!! ILY ALL MWAH!💞

TAGLIST: @cvlliesstuff​ 

Please lemme kno in the comments (or in asks) if you’d like to be added to the taglist!! Thank you so much!! 💖

“A LOVE SO BEAUTIFUL” MASTERLIST 🌸

[v1ntagecassette]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: The Adventure Zone (Podcast) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Master Firbolg & Argo Keene & Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt, The Thundermen & Althea Song Characters: Sir Fitzroy Maplecourt, Argo Keene, Master Firbolg (The Adventure Zone), Althea Song, Chaos (The Adventure Zone), Rainer (The Adventure Zone), Buckminster Eden, Rhodes (The Adventure Zone), Crush (The Adventure Zone), Snippers (The Adventure Zone), Breeze Through the Willow Additional Tags: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Psychological Trauma, Possession, Aftermath of Possession, Maplekeene if you squint, Chaos!Fitzroy, Chaotic Fitzroy, Very mild body horror, Spoilers, obviously, Action/Adventure, Demons, Hellhounds, There's still some goofs in here I promise Summary:The war with Gray is quickly approaching, and the closer it gets, the harder Fitzroy tries to keep Chaos's influence at bay. He's positive he doesn't need their power to help him win, no matter how desperately it keeps trying to break free; he can handle this himself.

Right?

Taglist: @yellowmagicalgirl

[becasbelt]

Chapters: 9/12 Fandom: Pitch Perfect (Movies) Rating: T Relationships: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell Characters: Beca Mitchell, Chloe Beale, Dr. Mitchell (Pitch Perfect), Beca Mitchell's Mother, Aubrey Posen, Jesse Swanson Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, skateboarder!beca, Romance, Angst

* * *

Beca’s knees hit hard concrete as she falls off her board, the sensation of fabric and skin tearing sending pain shooting through her legs. She hears Briggs call out to ask if she’s alright from somewhere near the top of the ramp, but Beca waves him off.

The external pain is welcome; it gives Beca a break from her internal heartache.

She struggles to her feet and bends over to instruct the damage on her knees. Just as she’d suspected, her pants are ripped up and one of her knees is bleeding as a result of her skidding across the ground. Beca winces slightly at the sight of blood, but just straightens up and makes her way up the ramp to where a first aid kit was waiting.

The new hole in her jeans gives Beca convenient access to her wound, so she sets to work cleaning it out. Beca pours some water over her knee, ignoring the slight sting that comes as a result, and digs around in the first aid bag for a Band-Aid. She hears someone plop down on the bench beside her – probably Wyatt based on the now present scent of weed in the air – but chooses not to speak until prompted.

“So, Beca,” her friend says after a moment.

And there it is.

“So, Wyatt,” she replies in kind, her focus on unwrapping her precious Band-Aid from its wrapper.

Wyatt chuckles goofily next to her, and Beca fights off a grin at the familiar sound. “What’s going on with you, dude?” he asks, nudging her shoulder a little bit as he lights up a joint beside her. “You’ve been home for Spring break for, what- five days now? Why haven’t you regaled us with any stories from your time amongst the knowledge seekers?”

Beca rolls her eyes. “Either you’re not high enough to forget how to use big words, or you’re just high enough to start using them.” She glances at him teasingly with a raised eyebrow.

He wiggles his own eyebrows in response. “I’m gonna go with the second one,” he replies cheekily. Beca just laughs and steals his joint for a quick drag of her own before returning her attention to patching up her knee. Wyatt continues smoking quietly beside her.

“School sucks, man,” she says after a moment, choosing to keep her eyes focused on her wound. She smooths the bandage out over her cuts with some level of satisfaction, enjoying the way the injury seems to disappear completely. Out of sight, out of mind. “It’s just as bad as I thought it’d be.”

“I mean, yeah,” is Wyatt’s remarkable response. Beca looks at him to see an indifferent look on his face as he watches other skateboarders goof off around them. “There’s a reason none of us wanted to go to college. It’s a waste of time.”

Uncertainty flashes through Beca’s mind at that, but she ignores it and turns her head away to watch Briggs grinding a rail with mild interest and a slight scowl. “You’re telling me.”

“So have you had any fun at school at least?” Wyatt asks after a small lull in the conversation. “Like, do have anyone you hang out with, or are you doing the whole ‘lone wolf’ thing again?”

The question causes Beca to briefly think back on unwelcomed memories from the last few months- most having to do with a certain redhead that Beca’s been spending the entirety of the break trying to forget. The only problem is, Chloe Beale is not someone that you can just forget.

Try as she might, Beca can still remember the look on Chloe’s face as she walked away from her after semi-finals. The hurt and heartbreak that shown on the other girl’s face as Beca declared they were nothing is there in Beca’s mind every time she closes her eyes, which had also caused serious sleeping problems for Beca. Instead of sleeping, Beca had devoted her time to skating and partying with acquaintances- just like the good ‘ol days.

Though the parties may be a welcomed distraction, Beca has found herself yearning for the quiet afternoons she and Chloe often spent together: walks around campus, doing homework in Beca’s dorm room, lazy Sunday afternoons where Beca would run her hands through ginger locks while Chloe napped.

Beca hated how much Chloe made her not hate being at school.

She also hated how often she checked her phone for notifications. It was automatic at this point; every so often she would turn her screen on to make sure she didn’t have any texts that came through, but each time she looked, she was met with the sight of no new texts.

Beca clicks on her phone now, just to make sure.

Nothing.

Whatever. Didn’t matter.

She snatches the joint from Wyatt’s fingers. “You know me,” she says after inhaling smoke deeply, letting it out in a slow stream with her next exhale. “I’ve never been one to be overly attached to anything.”

“Amen to that, man,” Wyatt agrees, stealing the stick back to finish the rest off. He stamps the bud on the ground with his sneakered toe and pushes himself to his feet. “I’m gonna go show Briggs up on that rail. You wanna come?” he implores, then chuckles. “You could probably show us both up, to be honest.”

Beca forces a small grin on her face. “I think I’m actually going to head home,” she says instead of accepting, getting to her feet as well. “My mom is taking me out to dinner before I leave again.”

“Right on, dude,” is Wyatt’s response. He fist bumps her before riding over to where Briggs is, and Beca waves in departure to both of them before hoping on her board and making her way out of the skate park.

Beca takes the long way home, skating leisurely since she was in no rush. Her mom wasn’t taking her to dinner; in fact, Beca had hardly spoken to the woman since getting home for break. Long work hours on her mom’s end, plus Beca’s attempts at distracting herself have just resulted in not a whole lot of time spent together. Beca didn’t mind, though. She doubted her mom would have anything substantial to say to her anyways.

The sun is just setting in the sky when she arrives home, and Beca uses her key to unlock the empty house’s door. The front entryway is dark, but Beca doesn’t bother turning on any lights yet, opting to just rely on the fading light shining through the windows. Beca automatically heads in the direction of the stairs that lead up to her room, but pauses while passing the front room.

The piano that she has spent so many hours playing sits in its usual place under the window, the setting sun outside casting a faint orange glow on the polished wooden surface. The keys are covered, much in the way they were when Beca left for Barden. Beca studies the instrument for a moment before turning and taking a step away from the front room, but stops after only two steps and turns back around. She squints at the piano.

“And what do you want?” Her voice cuts through the empty air in the house, and Beca takes a few cautious steps towards the instrument.

The piano does not reply.

“Look at me. I must really be crazy, talking to a piano,” she mutters, laughing numbly. She wipes a finger through the dust covering the lid and slowly sinks down to sit on the piano’s bench, resting her elbows on the covered keys and putting her head in her hands. “Why am I such a mess?” she asks dejectedly.

Still, the piano remains silent.

Beca picks up her head and flops her hands down in her lap. She pulls her phone out of her pocket and places it on the bench next to her, turning it on briefly to check for notifications. As usual, no new messages appear on the screen. Beca sighs and glares at the piano as if it was judging her. “You’re not much help at all, you know that?” she tells the instrument.

Again, no answer.

She spends another moment squinting at the piano before letting out a resigned puff of breath. “Fine,” she murmurs under her breath as she lifts the fallboard up to expose the keys. “You win this time.”

When Beca places her hands on the keyboard and begins to play, she feels as though the piano finally responds to her. Beca plays with no real direction, no thoughts going through her mind. Her fingers dance over the notes on their own free will, and Beca finds herself taking comfort in the way the familiar action of playing eases her troubled emotions.

Soon enough it has gotten dark enough outside that Beca can no longer making out the piano very well, seeing as she hadn’t bothered turning on any lights upon arriving home. Beca pulls her hands away from the keys and reaches up to close the fallboard, but hesitates before she can pull it down.

The keys have spent enough time closed off, Beca thinks.

Beca wrinkles her nose at how lame that metaphor is for her life.

The keys remain uncovered as Beca rises from the bench and makes her way up to her room.

* * *

“What’s your favorite song?” Chloe asks, propping herself up on elbow from her place lying on Beca’s bed. Beca herself sits on the floor facing the bed, busy cleaning marks off the grip tape on her board. She looks up at Chloe’s question.

“I would’ve thought that you'd know I don’t listen to all that much music by now,” she replies wryly, focusing her attention back on her board.

Chloe huffs and pushes herself into a sitting position. “So you don’t have any songs you like?” she presses. “Not even from when you were a kid?”

“What’s your favorite song?” Beca retorts, redirecting the question.

“That’s not fair,” Chloe pouts.

Beca raises an eyebrow at her. “Then why’d you ask me the same question?”

Chloe opens her mouth, trying to come up with a response to that, but ends up shutting it again a moment later. Beca holds back a smug grin and looks back down at her board.

“Okay, well the thing is,” Chloe starts again. Beca sighs and sets her skateboard to the side; she’d have to work on it some other time. “It’s not a fair question because I don’t have just one favorite song.”

“Okay, what are you favorite songs, plural, then?” Beca asks, chuckling and shaking her head. She pushes off the floor and flops down on her stomach next to Chloe, who is still sitting upright, now deep in thought.

“Well, there’s Titanium, for obvious reasons,” Chloe starts out, shooting a suggestive wink towards Beca, who immediately flushes and lightly shoves Chloe’s leg with a laugh.

“Gross, dude. What else?”

Chloe begins to think again, and Beca ignores how easy the smile that comes to her face is as she watches the ginger ponder. “I’ve always been a big fan of ‘Here Comes the Sun,’” she eventually decides, nodding her head at the conclusion. “My parents used to call me their little sunshine when I was a kid, so I’ve just always had a soft spot for it.” Chloe starts humming the melody quietly and looks down at Beca with a smile on her face.

Beca listens to Chloe, debating with herself internally. Eventually Beca sighs a little and rolls onto her back. “Somethin’ Stupid,” she says, eyes trained on the ceiling.

Chloe’s humming ceases. “What?” she asks, a crease appearing between her eyebrows.

“It’s a Frank Sinatra song- a duet he sings with his daughter,” Beca explains further. “My dad and I used to sing it together when I was a kid, before he, uh, walked out.” She clears her throat awkwardly and starts picking at her cuticles. “My dad wasn’t the best singer, but he always loved singing with me, which is a good thing since I always wanted someone to sing with. My mom played a little guitar, and she would pull it out on occasion and try to play some chords along with us, even if she usually didn’t do a very good job.” Beca chuckles a little at the memories of her mom and dad playfully teasing each other when one of them would mess up a note or chord. It was the healthy kind of fighting- the kind of fighting that was more for show and flirting purposes than anything

Beca’s thoughts stray to nights spent listening to her parents actually fighting with one another, which dampens Beca’s moment of brief reminiscence instantly. The smile falls from her face while she shrugs as best as she can while laying down and laces her fingers together over her stomach before meeting Chloe’s watchful gaze. “I dunno. I guess the song has always just stuck with me, even through all the rough years.”

A soft smile forms on Chloe’s lips, and the other girl leans over to kiss Beca gently. Beca closes her eyes contently at the action, letting Chloe pull back after a few seconds and resisting the urge to deepen the kiss.

“Thank you for telling me that,” Chloe whispers, face still hovering close above Beca’s. Beca grins a little.

“You’re the one that asked the question,” she replies just as quietly. “Of course I was going to answer.”

Chloe giggles a little before leaning in to kiss her again, and Beca lets herself get lost in the way her heart beats fast and how her lips turn up in a smile with each new kiss.

* * *

The scotch that Beca had stolen from her mom’s liquor cabinet sits next to Beca on the roof, untouched save for a couple sips taken about an hour ago. It was weird, but drinking her feelings away didn’t have quite the same appeal as it did a few months ago. Roof time used to be drinking time for Beca, but she just didn’t feel like numbing her feelings at the moment.

It was so hard going back to feeling sad and numb after being truly happy for the first time in years.

Beca checks her phone.

Nothing.

She sighs and stares at her screen until it automatically fades to black again. Beca rests her crossed arms over the top of her bent knees and rests her chin on them, focusing on the lights of the city in the distance. From here she can just make out the shape of the Space Needle, as well as a few other buildings she sort of recognizes. The noises of cars passing by from nearby is the only thing breaking the silent night air, and Beca lets the familiarity of it all wash over her, soothing her a little.

“Knock knock,” a voice says behind her.

Though Beca is surprised by her mother’s unexpected visit, she doesn’t turn around to greet her. “Hey,” she says with no enthusiasm. Beca hears shuffling as her mom climbs out the window and onto the roof.

Her mom slides her way over to sit beside Beca, and out of the corner of her eye Beca sees her eye Beca’s drink, but doesn’t comment. “How you doing, kid?”

“Fine,” is Beca’s automatic response. She winces slightly at the snappy tone she uses. “Just, you know, tired and stuff.”

“And stuff,” her mom echoes, humming a little. The woman says nothing else for a while, and Beca feels herself become more anxious the longer they sit there together. Beca finally turns her head to look at her mom and sees that her eyes are also focused on the city lights.

“What are you doing here?” Beca finally asks, a little shortly.

Her mom shrugs. “This is my house, isn’t it?” she says, seemingly unbothered by Beca’s tone. “I think I have the right to sit on my own roof.”

Beca huffs. “Yeah, but what are you doing here with me?” she tries again, turning away from her mom again. “You’ve been doing a pretty good job at ignoring me all week, why stop now?”

Her mom sighs sadly. “Listen, Beca, I know I haven’t been the best mother lately.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “That’s an understatement,” she mumbles under her breath.

“And I’m sorry for that,” her mom continues softly. “I’m so sorry that I shut you out after your father left. It wasn’t fair to you in any way, and I’m ashamed that it’s taken me so long to realize that I was even doing it at all.” Her mom’s voice tightens as she talks, and Beca feels a lump form in her own throat in response.

Beca chooses to remain silent.

“I was so focused on my own hurt feelings for so long that I didn’t realize how much I was hurting you. It felt like I was in a mindless daze for three years, and it was only after you went away to school that I was able to snap out of it.” Beca turns her head slowly to see tears on her mother’s face, shocked by the first show of real emotions since right after her dad left. “It didn’t hit me until I was truly alone how terrible I’ve been the past few years,” her mom says, wiping tears off her cheeks. “I- I don’t know if you’ll be able to forgive me, but I’m willing to work to earn your forgiveness in whatever ways I can.”

Beca looks into pleading blue eyes, so much like her own, and feels all the anger and resentment she’s harbored towards her mother melt away. “You don’t have to earn anything,” Beca tells her gently, and Beca can see the surprise on her mom’s face at the words. “Of course I’ll forgive you. It was a rough few years for both of us, and I definitely could’ve handled it better, too. Just,” Beca puts on a faux stern face, “don’t let it happen again.”

A relieved, albeit shaky, chuckle sounds from her mom and Beca smiles at her reassuringly. “Are you too old for hugs from your mom?” she asks, holding out her arms hopefully.

The lump in Beca’s throat tightens even more. “I’ll never be too old for a hug from mom,” she says thickly before leaning into her mother’s embrace. Beca closes her eyes contently as something settles in her chest, making her feel calm.

After a moment of just sitting and holding each other quietly, Beca’s mom pulls back. “So,” she says, brushing a lock of Beca’s hair behind her ear. “How’s college? Is it as bad as you thought it would be?”

And just like that, Beca is spilling out everything that’s happened at Barden like the last three years of miscommunication never happened between them. She tells her about her job at the skate shop, and about how annoying Jesse is. She tells her about joining the Bellas and what competitions are like (though she leaves out the getting arrested part).

Beca spends a lot of time talking about Chloe- about how she convinced her to join the Bellas, about how kind and understanding she is; how she doesn’t seem to mind Beca’s perpetually grumpy mood and constant sarcasm.

About how she feels like Chloe has steadily broken down her walls.

How Chloe makes her want to be a better person.

“And mom, I,” Beca takes a moment to catch her breath, just now realizing how long she’s been talking for. Her mom doesn’t seem to mind; there’s a light in her eyes that Beca hasn’t seen in a long time, one that Beca hopes is here to stay for a while. “I started playing again.”

Her mom’s eyebrows raise in surprise. “Piano?”

Beca smiles a little. “Piano, yeah,” she confirms. “Chloe asked if I did anything other than skate one day and I just… showed her. I didn’t even think twice about it.”

“How did it feel? Playing again,” her mom inquires.

“It felt…” Beca trails off for a moment, trying to find the right words. “It felt like I never stopped.”

Her mom smiles. “And based on the way the piano keys were open earlier, you’ve been playing ever since?”

Beca laughs. “I knew I should’ve covered them up again. Is that the only reason you came up here to talk to me?” she teases without mirth.

“No, but I was curious about it,” her mom reveals with a chuckle of her own. She sobers up a moment later. “I’m glad to hear that you’re playing again, though. I know that it’s something you used to really love.”

“I mean, it’s fine, I guess,” Beca says with a shrug, her tone giving away to the fact that she’s only joking.

“And,” her mom says hesitantly, “Based on the way you talk about this Chloe girl, I’m thinking piano isn’t the only thing you love.”

Beca’s mouth opens and closes at that, shocked to say the least. Her phone lights up with a Snapchat notification from Briggs, drawing Beca’s attention to the screen. She swipes the notification away and takes a moment to look at her screensaver. It’s a picture of she and Chloe, taken a couple of days before semi-finals. Chloe holds the phone while kissing Beca on the cheek, Beca’s face wrinkled up in fake discomfort. Chloe had teased Beca about how cute she was when she was grumpy, to which Beca had just rolled her eyes affectionately without complaint.

The memory brings a tender smile to Beca’s face. “Yeah,” she tells her mom, still looking down at her screensaver. “I guess you’re right.”

[seedling-lotus]

thank you for tagging me @mylastbraincql​ !!! 

All right! Bearing in mind that today I am extremely flustered and extremely fond (partly due to a certain fic, but also just in general. I’m in a good mood today. It’s nice) and that there are 650 fics in my bookmarks on AO3, I’m gonna try to keep this to a single fandom. And in honor of the lovely @mylastbraincql​ who tagged me, I will try to keep this to MDZS fandom of which I only, currently have 81 fics bookmarked (but I have a pile more in my TBR queue)

SO Let’s begin!

“Slow Burn” or “Love at First Sight” - Now don’t get me wrong, I have a fond place in my heart for “Love at first sight” fics too. But usually only in the context of slow burn mutual pining there after. so yes, fall in love quickly, but don’t do anything about it for a long time. But yes, love me a slow burn. This series is slow burning and super cute. This fic was also a beautiful slow burn.

“Fake Dating” or “Secret Dating” - I don’t think I’ve ever really encountered secret dating? But fake dating, mmmm. Especially fake dating where they end up catching feels! (I know I’ve read so many fics with this but I cannot find a single one right now, what the heck...)

“Enemies Annoyances to Lovers” or “Friends to Lovers” - Friends to lovers is super sweet, but, well, I prefer some darker emotions in my reading. Though I suppose there could be dark emotions there too... I don’t think I’ve ever really read it. Annoyances to lovers. Oh dear. This fic, I think, probably fits the trope best?

“Oh no there’s only one bed...” or Long-distance with correspondence - I love this trope. It’s hilarious to me. Hmm... I don’t think I’ve actually read all that much of it for this fandom, but it does come up in this fic. 

Hurt/Comfort or Amnesia - Don’t get me wrong, there’s a lot of hurt comfort in amnesia, but I do prefer just straight up hurt/comfort. Like this fic, and this one.

Fantasy AU or Modern AU - Yes. All of the yes. gimme all of it. I love all of it. I love every single possible type of AU. I will read a million AUs! But here, lemme find some specific examples for this one. Fantasy & Modern (I admittedly have more examples of modern than fantasy, but they’re all so good! And I’m only sharing one modern under this particular heading to make it fair.)

Mutual Pining or Domestic Bliss - Pining in general is just my jam, okay? Mutual Pining? *wheezes* I love it. It slays me every single time. I have so many freaking emotions about pining. I pine for pining fics, you do not understand. Rip my heart out. This one is mild on the pining, but I love it.  And here’s one that’s actually mutual pining like I’m supposed to be giving examples of >.>; 

Smut or Fluff - So this one is actually a really hard choice for me? I don’t actually particularly like Fluff or Smut as far as fics go, but I am more likely to choose Smut over fluff. Largely in part because the higher rated fics tend to have story lines that I enjoy more. I’m also a huge sap and get easily overwhelmed by fluff, so I try not to turn into a giggling goof too often. But anyway. Here’s a Smut. and a Fluff. For your reading pleasure. 

Canon-compliant (missing scenes) or Fix-it fics -Yes! yes to both! Oh goodness, I love both of these ideas very much. I love when people expand on a canon in ways that still comply. I also love when they tweak things to make them work! Compliant Okay, I admit, that one doesn’t quite fit the criteria because it’s technically a continuation instead of a missing scene, but I’m counting it anyway. Fix-It This series is one of my fave fix-its. Largely because I just freaking adore Mo Xuanyu.

Alternate universe or Future fic - Both, both is good! I am weak for both of these. Possibly more for AUs but I will definitely get equally excited about both. Here’s one of my fave AUs. And my fave future fic series.

One-shot or Multi-chapter - Honestly, I can go either way on this. It really depends on my mood and how much time I have. Though with this fandom and their propensity for one-shots that are over 20,000 words... But I do love it. Here is a painfully long, but absolutely gorgeous one-shot that I love. and here is a kind of silly multi-chapter (that’s actually shorter than the one shot) that I enjoyed thoroughly. 

Kid fic or Road trip fic - Oh I love Kid fics! Fics where the characters are kids, or have kids. Either way. I love them very much. So many of my fandoms, this one included, do involve a lot of traveling in general, but that’s usually in a more mission oriented sense. I’m not really sure any of them would travel for the sake of traveling. (I can’t find any examples of the characters being kiddos in my bookmarks >.<) here’s another where they have kids because it’s too cute

Reincarnation or Character death - I’m gonna be honest, character death is just depressing for the most part. I will, sometimes, read very short fics involving it, but it’s not a favorite. Reincarnation fics however? Oh heck yes. (>.< I don’t think I have any examples of reincarnation fics tho)

Arranged Marriage or Accidental Marriage - I know that, like, accidental marriage is the name of the game in this fandom. And I do love it. It’s hilarious. But arranged marriage AUs have a special place in my heart. This is one of my faves. 

High School College Romance or Middle-aged Romance - I have absolutely nothing against middle aged romance (heck, in this fandom that’s practically canon) but I admit, younger romances resonate a bit more for me, and I am more likely to click on them. (Probably because I’m not too much older than those tropes 26, gods, it’s been years since I was in school, what the heck) Here’s a cute little college AU.

Time Travel or Isolated Together - Ooo, this one is fun. In a sense, these two tie closely for me because there’s a lot of... Overlap? or at least, a lot of potential for it. In general anyway. It usually doesn’t work that way, and certainly not for this fandom. I’ll admit, I haven’t read any outright time travel fics for these lovely characters, yet. I’m pretty sure I have a couple in my TBR. As for Isolated together, that has so much potential. I like it both in the sweet ways and the angsty ones. This is the closest to a time travel fic as I’ve read for this fandom. And here is a cute little “isolated together” fic. 

Neighbors or Roommates - These AUs are, yes. I love them very very much. There’s so much potential for them. I don’t technically have any recs that fit either of the above for this heading that I haven’t already linked, but... Here’s a super sweet fic that they become roommates at the end of ^-^

Sci-fi AU or Magic AU - Give Me All The AUs. No, but seriously. I adore Sci-fi and magic. Now this fandom does make it a little harder for the magic AU because canon is technically magic, but! It’s still a lot of fun to read. Unfortunately, the only Sci-fi au I’ve read is already linked up under the Fantasy header (it’s both, hush). But here is my all time fave alternative magic fic for this fandom. (And it just updated the final chapter!!)

Angst or Humor - *cackles* oh goodness me. Angst. Angst all the way. If my heart feels like it’s being forcibly removed from my chest, it’s the best. Humor is... not really my cup of tea in general. I enjoy laughing, no doubt, but my humor is pretty dark so it’s way easier for me to be amused by an angsty fic than a humorous one. Here are some angsty fics that ripped my heart to pieces.  

Tagging! @lepetiterik, @toddnyallison, @hunxi-guilai and anyone else who wants to play!. (you absolutely do not have to rec fics in this, I just got waaay over excited and wanted to share. let me know if anyone wants recs from any of my other fandoms)