#I miss having plants it was so very cool but I fear the day I have a million bugs in my room again

[cerise-on-top]

Been really into gardening, so what about Nikolai and König with a gardener s/o? Would they be interested in helping out, or have a specific favorite type of plant?

(I love love LOVE rambling about plants, they're so cool once you get to know them!! I blame my mom entirely since she has a green thumb)

(Also, do you have a fav kind of flower? I personally love hydrangeas)

Plants are really cool, though! Hydrangeas are very pretty, I think I've seen some here and there! I personally adore lisianthus, though! They're absolutely gorgeous! Now I can't help but wonder if I could grow some someday when I move out, haha!

Nikolai and König with a Gardener!S/O

Nikolai: I do believe that he has a garden somewhere near his house only he knows about, where he grows vegetables. He loves having his own little garden, just that little bit of space that no one can take away from him with which he can do just about whatever is nice. He especially likes tomatoes, they’re nutritious, healthy and very delicious, as well as easy to cook. Nikolai is a pretty good cook, so he knows how to utilize tomatoes to their full potential. He has tried to grow flowers as well, though. He’s made some good success with sunflowers, in fact he still has some in his secret garden. So he absolutely knows how to take care of a garden, he finds it relaxing even and would love to help you out a bit, if you let him. Do let him plant some plants of his own, though, he loves watching them grow. Although he’s never been able to do so, he’d love to cultivate some melons at some point as well. Watermelons, cantaloupes, honey melons, he’d love to eat his own ones someday as well, especially with you. He thinks it’s so cool that you’re a gardener because, in another life where he wasn’t a soldier and or leader of a PMC, he, too, would be a gardener. Has always dreamed of having a garden with you and would love to plant some trees as well. Apple trees, cherry trees, maybe even some orange trees, as long as he gets some delicious fruit out of it, he’s down. Besides, what’s more domestic than working at your shared garden together? He’ll even plant some flowers as well. He can’t particularly surprise you well with them, but he can look at your surprised face when they first start sprouting. While he won’t pluck or cut them unless he needs to, he will cherish the moments he gets to spend with you and your shared plants. And if you’re the type of person to name your plants then I can assure you he remembers each and every single name.

König: He’s never really been into gardening. He had a small succulent as a kid once so he had something to take care of that would help him with feeling down, but it didn’t survive very long. He loved the little plant a little too much and gave it too much water every day. To this day he feels guilty about it. He named it “Luisa”. Ever since then he’s not very confident in his plant keeping abilities, thinking he has the worst green thumb imaginable. He would love to help you, don’t get me wrong, but he’s afraid of killing your plants and making you mad about it. No, he’d much rather watch you and encourage you with your endeavors. He’ll buy fertilizer, if needed, or some new seeds or saplings if you want some, but he won’t really do much with your plants, aside from moving them to the sunlight if you want him to. Although, it should be added that he could still learn how to take good care of a plant. With some guidance, and another small succulent that’s hard to kill, it’s not too late. Just show him the ropes, tell him what to do and he’ll do it. He might get nervous about having overdone it again from time to time, and will come up to you, the succulent tiny in his hands, asking you if his plant will make it. Reassure him and give him some good tips, he’ll appreciate it more than you’ll ever know. König feels very accomplished when the plant has survived over two months. As time goes on, he’ll grow more comfortable with plants and ask you if he could maybe help you water some more plants. He may still need to get a feeling for it all, but he’s very eager to help you. Again, this is all very domestic for him, so he quite likes it. Just watering some plants with you, harvesting some parsley, maybe picking some apples from the tree. He can get most fruits from the tree due to his height as well, which is great. König’s more into the practical side of gardening, so he prefers fruit and vegetables over flowers. His favorite plant would be a pumpkin, but only because he loves pumpkin seed oil.

[fettuccinealfred0]

Til Death Do Us Part | Part 6

Series Masterlist

Astarion x f!reader, Arranged Marriage AU

Word Count: 14.5k

(CW: SMUT 18+, vampire biting/blood drinking, unprotected p in v sex)

Summary:

“Fine, you want honesty?” Astarion's voice takes on a desperate, forlorn quality. “I ache for you down to my very soul. I feel as if my heart is clawing its way out of my chest and I’m powerless to stop it. Love is a sickness and you have infected me and for that, I despise you and I despise myself for ever being so weak.”

He sounds half like he’s accusing you and half like he’s exalting you. 

“I have experienced the worst forms of torture and yet, this past week without you has made me wish my suffering had a tangible wound,” he continues. “My heart does not beat and yet I feel it flutter in my chest when you are near. I do not need to breathe and yet I feel as if I am suffocating when we are apart. You are stubborn and impudent and reckless. You are lovely and clever and kind, beneath it all. I fear I will spend the rest of my life trying to fall out of love with you.”

Trying to fall... out of love with you. Which means... he's currently in love with you.

Read on ao3 here.

You hardly ever see Astarion anymore. It feels as if you’re simply going through the motions of your life, trapped in a haze. 

Obviously I haven’t been thinking clearly from the blood loss or I would have never let you touch me! 

You shouldn’t have spoken to him like that. It wasn’t even true. 

In reality, you greedily took every scrap of affection that Astarion was willing to offer you. But he had been cutting at your heart so painfully and the only way you knew how to make it stop was to make him hurt, too. 

You miss him. 

You hadn’t noticed how Astarion had managed to become such a fixture in your life in such a short amount of time. You hadn’t realized how accustomed you had become to his presence until you were forced to feel its absence. It seems every corner of the manor is tainted by Astarion’s ghost. 

You sit by yourself at meals, eating but not tasting. You stare at books in the library without really reading. You take yourself on walks in the garden that are meant to cheer you up but end up making you cry when you see how the moonflowers had been trimmed back for winter. The bush was almost unrecognizable. It felt like some disgusting metaphor for the state of your marriage, which Astarion had cut and brutalized into something hideous.

Halsin finds you that afternoon- crumpled in a heap on the ground, hands caked in dirt from where you had been digging the plant out by the root. He doesn’t say anything, just pulls you into his warm arms and lets you sob into his shoulder, dampening his shirt until you run out of tears.

The comforting embrace of sleep does not offer any reprieve from your anguish, either. Without Astarion, sleep eludes you and you spend your time twisting and turning in the sheets, craving Astarion’s cool touch. 

Even the bed in your room feels foreign to you. After spending so many nights together in Astarion’s, your room feels empty and lifeless. It’s yet another reminder of how suddenly Astarion had cast you aside. Another reminder that he didn’t need you- that he had found someone better, someone who wasn’t so desperate.

The days and nights blur together, endless and unrelenting. Time is determined to sweep you along in her current even if you’d rather drown. 

Shadowheart forces you to at least rise out of bed and get dressed every day. You can tell she’s growing concerned about how little sleep you seem to be getting. The circles under your eyes are growing darker with every passing day. 

About a week after your fight with Astarion, you find one of his shirts folded in between your chemises. When you look at Shadowheart inquisitively, she just shrugs her shoulders. You know this is her way of acknowledging that she has done this for you, that she has slipped you one of his shirts from the wash in an attempt to help you feel better. 

When you’re alone that night, you lift the white muslin material to your nose and the sweet, familiar smell of bergamot and rosemary sends you into a tailspin. He has forever ruined those scents for you, they will forever be tied to him. 

You clutch onto the fabric like a lifeline, holding it against your chest as if that will miraculously ease the aching in your heart. As you rub the soft material between your fingers, your thumb catches on a patch of raised thread at the hem of the shirt and you find small, evenly stitched letters lining the bottom of the shirt in pale red thread. It’s masterful work. Had Astarion embroidered this into his shirt himself? 

You recall your wedding dress, with the shimmery gold embroidered flowers and how Astarion had seemed so concerned whether you liked it or not. Had that been his work, too?

It all terrifies you- to think you were in love with someone and to realize that you hardly knew them at all. And how well you thought you knew him, too... All your careful studying was for naught. 

You finally focus on the words sewn into the shirt. Clearly, they must be important to him if he felt the need to sew them into his innermost layer of clothing. 

Lamentable is the autumn picker content with plums.

The words are beautiful and fill you with a deep melancholy.

Oh. Is that how Astarion saw you? A late season plum with no taste, the unwanted scraps given to the poor. 

He had cast you aside because he felt he deserved better than some foolish girl with romantic dreams and clumsy hands. You were bland. You were desperate. He wanted someone experienced, someone with taste- a ripe, juicy pear that would satisfy any autumn picker. 

Lamentable is poor Astarion, you sneer to yourself, for being content with a boring, easy wife who dared to love him.

The words are a second gaping wound to your already damaged heart. It feels as if they had cut down to your very bones. And still, you curl helplessly around the shirt in bed, desperate for sleep to claim you so that you could have a momentary reprieve from this suffering. 

The more Astarion avoids you, the more your sadness begins to turn into a familiar anger. 

Does he truly respect you so little that he would so callously remove himself from your life? Who is he to pretend these past few months meant nothing to him? 

For when you were wrapped together at night, did he not caress you so softly like you always imagined a lover would? Did he not kiss you with the reverence of a man worshiping his deity? 

Even Astarion is not that good of an actor. 

“I’m not sure how much longer I can continue like this,” you whisper to Shadowheart one morning, when you hardly recognize your haggard, pained reflection in the mirror. It had not even been a fortnight since your fight and the prospect of living with this heartbreak much longer seems exhausting. 

“You still haven’t even told me what the two of you are fighting about,” Shadowheart says, rolling her eyes. “Who can stay away from each other the longest? Which one of you loves the other more? There are never any winners in those types of games.”

“Astarion isn’t capable of love.” You repeat the words to her that have become your mantra, “You have to have a heart to be able to love.”

Shadowheart huffs out a laugh, “Please. I’m not stupid. Anyone with half a brain can tell he loves y-”

“Stop,” you interrupt. 

You must remind yourself that she doesn’t know what he has said. Although Astarion’s words seem to repeat in a vicious loop in your mind, you didn’t dare speak them aloud. You were still too embarrassed by how cruelly he had thrown you aside, too ashamed of how desperately you still needed him. 

She doesn’t know that her words are yet another reminder that even if at some point Astarion did hold some scrap of affection for you, he had grown tired of you since then. 

“The Lord’s been miserable, too,” Shadowheart says, attempting to comfort you. 

“He doesn’t get to be miserable. Not when he-” you cut yourself off. Not when he was the one who ripped the beating heart out of my chest and crushed it into dust. Not when he was the one to replace you. 

“Well, Gale said the wine cellar has been decimated,” Shadowheart offers you a friendly smile, as if she’s just offered you up a salacious bit of gossip. 

It just makes your skin crawl to know they’ve been talking about you behind your back- that her and Gale have been comparing notes about your and Astarion’s misery.

“Glad to know he’s been drinking himself stupid while I’ve been miserable,” you scoff.

“That’s not what I meant.” Shadowheart sighs in frustration. “Gods, you two are perfect for each other. You’re both prideful idiots.”

—------------

You nearly run over Astarion a couple days later as he trudges down the hallway with his shoulders hunched and a haunted look on his face. Other than Shadowheart’s report from Gale that Astarion had been drinking through his collection of expensive wines, you’re not sure what he’s been up to since your fight. He spends nearly all his time locked away in his study.

And admittedly, Astarion looks as bad as you feel when you see him. It’s a rather stark transformation for someone who normally takes so much pride in their appearance. 

When was the last time he bathed? His beautiful curls are all askew, greasy and unwashed. And he’s obviously starving. His skin is pale and ashen, the dark circles under his eyes are too prominent. That lovely pink undertone to his skin that appears after he’s fed is missing. Gone are the days of pretty flushed cheeks as he looks up at you from between your thighs.

He told you that he didn’t want to drink from you anymore. Had yelled at you that he had found someone else, someone better, as he nearly chased you out of the room. 

So then why did he look this miserable?

You’re unsure what to do, torn between reaching out to pull him into a hug and that anger burning in you that’s a little bit satisfied at his suffering.

You know Astarion can see the shock on your face. And after so long of dedicated study, you know his mind almost as well as your own and so you know that he’s probably interpreting your surprise as pity. 

He growls at you, baring his fangs in warning as he shoves past you. The sound of his study door being slammed hangs heavy in the air while you stand frozen, skin still tingling where his shoulder had brushed against yours. 

Your body still calls out to him, even now.

Your feet move seemingly of their own accord, taking you to the study. You try the doorknob, but it’s predictably locked, so you raise your hand to knock at the door. When Astarion doesn’t answer, you pull a pin out of your hair and wiggle it into the lock. Desperate times call for desperate measures. 

“Get out!” He growls at you when the door swings open. 

You think he might throw the book he’s holding at you. It makes you waver- this man who is so similar to you, who lashes out when he’s scared and feels small. It’s the same response you had that first morning after you were imprisoned, when Shadowheart had entered your room. 

You wilt a bit under his gaze, his fiery red eyes looking at you with something akin to… hatred. 

Ignoring the way your heart feels as if it is freezing inside your chest, you square your shoulders, refusing to succumb to the intensity of his stare. 

“No. You don’t get to tell me what to do!” You say and Astarion rolls his eyes in disgust.

“Oh, don’t act like a child,” he sneers back at you.

You cross your arms in the most unchildlike way you can manage and resist from stomping your foot on the ground in frustration. 

“I am not the one who has been acting like a child here.”

“Gods, what do you want from me?” Astarion yells. 

His response nearly makes you laugh. Since when has he ever cared what you wanted? He didn’t care when he forced you to marry him. He didn’t care when he rejected you right after you had opened up to him. Even now, as he asks you directly, you doubt he will truly listen to you. 

No, Astarion is only capable of caring for himself. It doesn’t matter how many people he has to hurt to get what he wants.

But you watch as he deflates almost immediately, his anger turning into fatigue as his hands come up to massage at his temples like he’s got the worst headache in the world. When he speaks again, he just sounds like a broken man, “I told you that whatever was between us is done.” 

“I want you to stop pretending like I don’t exist! I want you to be honest with me for once! I want-” You cut yourself off, chest heaving. 

I want you. 

The truth that you cannot ignore, the truth that doesn’t dissipate even in your darkest moments.

“You want honesty?” Astarion scoffs. “I’ve been honest with you!”

You bristle. 

“You lied to me when we first met! You chased me down and threatened me and then didn't kill me. You run around all the time whispering in the shadows with strange people that don’t work here. You go on weird business trips and come back on the brink of death. You tell me you hate me and want me gone from your life and then mope around like I’m the one who broke your heart. Everything you do is a lie!”

“I never said that I hate you,” is all Astarion says in response. 

“That’s the only thing you got out of everything I just said? That was like the least important detail!” You shout back at him, incredulous. 

Of course, he continues to evade all the very real issues you have just mentioned. You decide that you will offer him one last chance to be honest.

“Tell me the truth,” you spit out through gritted teeth. “Or at least tell me to my face that you never want to see me again and I’ll be gone by morning.”

Please, you think, say the words. Then, you can be gone from this place and can somehow try to salvage a life without Astarion. But you cannot stay here any longer and suffer. You cannot bear to continue to live as a ghost. You cannot watch as he gives his happiness to another. 

But you know Astarion. You know when you’ve caught him. There’s that momentary shock in his face before his jaw locks in frustration. 

“You’re a nuisance,” he says, but his words don’t hold the usual fervor. 

“I am,” you agree. “So why didn’t you just kill me the night we met? You could’ve saved yourself a lot of trouble.”

“It would have been a crime to take your beauty away from the world,” Astarion says, but the answer seems too rehearsed. You doubt you’re the first person to hear this line. 

“No, I want a real reason!” You demand.

“What do you want me to say?” He cries out, palms slamming loudly against the desk. He’s nearly frantic as his red eyes bore into you- desperate, pleading. “That perhaps you reminded me of myself? That perhaps I am indeed very lonely and you’re the first interesting person I’ve met in years? And here I was, presented with this opportunity to have you. Only a fool would say no to that.”

“I’m a person, Astarion. I am not something that can be kept.”

“And you never let me forget it,” he says, chuckling darkly. 

“Fine, you want honesty?” His voice takes on a desperate, forlorn quality. “I ache for you down to my very soul. I feel as if my heart is clawing its way out of my chest and I’m powerless to stop it. Love is a sickness and you have infected me and for that, I despise you and I despise myself for ever being so weak.”

He sounds half like he’s accusing you and half like he’s exalting you. 

“I have experienced the worst forms of torture and yet, this past week without you has made me wish my suffering had a tangible wound,” he continues. “My heart does not beat and yet I feel it flutter in my chest when you are near. I do not need to breathe and yet I feel as if I am suffocating when we are apart. You are stubborn and impudent and reckless. You are lovely and clever and kind, beneath it all. I fear I will spend the rest of my life trying to fall out of love with you.”

Trying to fall… out of love with you. Which means… he’s currently in love with you.

“You love me?” You ask in disbelief.

Although your heart is singing in your chest, chirping and trilling how it always does when Astarion grants you any affection, your mind is clouded by anger. You can tell by the shock on Astarion’s own face that he half-expected you to be placated by his words and did not anticipate that you would turn on him.

“Then what the fuck was the other night about?” You shout. “Because, remember, it was you who pushed me away. It was you who told me that you had found someone new and cast me aside like I was no better than the dirt under your boot. It was you who called me easy and shamed me for my desires.”

“I did, didn’t I?” Astarion crumples in on himself, head hanging in his hands. “And then there were all the times I took advantage of you in your compromised state. I’m sorry. There will never be enough words to tell you how sorry I am. You should hate me for what I’ve done to you.”

He’s practically on the verge of tears. And although Astarion deserves to suffer your wrath far longer, you rush to wrap him in your arms because you are weak and cannot bear to see him in pain. He sags into your embrace immediately. 

“I should have never said that. I’m sorry, Astarion. I assure you, I was a very conscious, very willing participant in all our evenings together. You just- you vex me.” You huff out a frustrated breath. “You’re like a puzzle with pieces missing. And every time I think I’m starting to see the picture, someone comes along and messes it all up again. I feel as though I’m being driven to the point of madness.”

With your hands on his cheeks, you move his head from where it is tucked against your chest, forcing him to look into your eyes. You need him to hear what you are saying, to feel the words down to his very bones. “You must know I never meant it when I said that I wasn’t clear headed.” 

“I just…” you take a deep breath, attempting to collect your thoughts. Astarion’s eyes are desperately searching your face. You cannot tell if he is more scared at the prospect that you are telling the truth or that you are lying. 

You speak, gently tracing your thumb down Astarion’s sharp cheekbone. “It felt as if you had frozen my heart inside my chest and I needed you to stop talking, to stop reminding me that I don’t mean as much to you as you do to me. The only way I knew to do that was to make you hurt, too. But you must know I treasure every moment we spend together, every book we read, every night we share. Whenever you…” you trail off, a bit shy. “Touched me, I was painfully, blissfully aware of every moment. I asked for you to share yourself with me because I wanted you. I will always want you.”

“If anything, the blood loss just made it all the more exciting,” you place Astarion’s hand over your chest so he can feel the beating of your heart. “Had my heart racing nearly as fast as it is right now.”

Astarion breathes out a breathy, astonished laugh and you’re sure he can feel the way your heart stutters in response.

“You are my north star, Astarion,” you say with a soft smile on your face. “You are the gentle light that guides me home, that helps me remember myself in the dark.”

“You really mean that?” Astarion asks, looking up at you with adoration.

“I love you. Every beat of my heart is for you.” 

And, in fact, perhaps you had loved him since the moment you first danced with him. Love and hate are very similar emotions, indeed. 

Astarion’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, a wide smile on his lips. He’s radiant, like the stars in the night sky- something whose beauty could never be captured by something so mundane as oil on canvas, something who’s beauty could only ever be experienced. 

“Are you going to be insufferable now that I’ve admitted that?” you ask and Astarion tips his head back to let out a loud laugh. It’s perhaps the hardest you’ve ever seen him laugh.

“Absolutely, my love,” he murmurs, leaning up to press a soft kiss to the side of your mouth. He continues peppering your face with kisses between each word as he says, “Completely and utterly insufferable.”

“I need you to promise me something.” You catch his face between your palms again so he is looking into your eyes. “If- if you still want this to work, if you still want me, I need you to promise that you’re going to be honest with me from now on. About everything.”

He frowns for a moment and you can see him thinking. Apparently, you had found the dealbreaker in his love.

“I swear on my life,” he finally says with a little smile.

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re not technically alive.” 

“It’s a figure of speech, darling.” He rolls his eyes, but you can tell he’s a bit disappointed he didn’t get away with it. Damned lawyer. “I swear, full honesty from this point forward.”

“Thank you.”

“But I need you to promise me something in return,” Astarion says, turning serious. 

“Anything,” you promise.

One of Astarion’s hands comes up to cup your own cheek and his cool skin sends a little shiver down your spine. “In the future, if you ever do decide you want us to be intimate again, we save my feeding until after. It’s important to me that you’re able to think clearly. That you’re able to say no.”

Okay, well, you hate that idea. Apparently he had also managed to find the one condition you were unwilling to agree to. 

“I don’t want to agree to that because I like it when you drink from me. It’s… exhilarating.” There’s nothing quite so electrifying as the feeling of your lifeblood being pulled from your veins, knowing that it will be used to nourish Astarion’s own body. You attempt to negotiate, though you are sure Astarion will be unimpressed with your skills, “So, I propose an amendment- we check in with each other before we do anything? Just so I can assure you that I am a level-headed, very willing participant.”

“Those are terms I can agree to.”

Astarion’s finally pulls you down into a kiss. Your lips slide against each other’s and it tastes faintly salty, though you’re unsure if the tears belonged to you or Astarion. 

“I love you,” you murmur against his mouth and he’s descending again, hungrier. Your hands move up to curl in his hair and Astarion has wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you to straddle him on the chair. 

It’s one of those toe-curling kisses that has you feel like your very soul is leaving your body, that has you feel like the very essence of your beings are singing together in harmony. 

“Say it again,” he commands in a low rumble. And, oh, you like that low, commanding voice he gives you. You can feel your thighs tighten around Astarion, feel the way his hand claws at the fabric of your dress.

“I love you,” you say before your lips press against each other again. You let your tongue trace along one of his fangs, snagging just enough so that you can taste the bitter, metallic tang of blood. Astarion becomes ravenous as he licks into your mouth. 

You kiss, over and over again, until you are satisfied that Astarion is assured just how willing and enthusiastic of a participant you truly are. 

“I love you, too,” he breathes and you can feel how his lips curl up into a smile. 

When you finally part from him long enough to see his face, he looks all wrong as you push his greasy curls off his forehead.

“You need a bath.” You wrinkle your nose and Astarion chuckles.

“You’ll join me?” He asks in a rich, deep voice as he gives you a devilish smile.

You stand up and hold out your hand to him, “Come, pretty boy, let me take care of you.”

“Oh, I have no doubt you will,” he says and his arm wraps around you from behind so he can catch you, playfully nipping at your neck. You laugh as you detangle yourself from his arms.

The servants swarm to set up a bath in Astarion’s room and you watch in the corner with him, a bit embarrassed that all the servants know you will be bathing together.

When you are finally alone, you help Astarion out of his clothes first. He doesn’t really need help, but it’s nice to take care of him for once. A little shiver runs up his spine when your fingers ghost against his stomach as you help him pull off his shirt. 

When he turns around to check the water, you see the huge scar on his back. It’s massive, spanning the entirety of his back. How have you never noticed this before? You had seen Astarion naked. Evidently, he had taken great care so far as to not let you see the scar. You can’t help but wonder why he had been hiding it from you and why he suddenly was allowing you to see it?

Your hands reach out to trace the patterns and Astarion jumps, but lets you continue. You’ve seen this pattern before, on the drawing you found in his study the day you broke in. And because Astarion cannot see his own reflection in a mirror, that must be the only way he knows what his scar looks like. 

“How did you get this?” you ask, horrified by the pain he has suffered. You try to keep your fingers light against the jagged tissue, unsure of how sensitive the skin is. 

You can see the wheels turning in his head and you know a lie is about to spew out of his mouth.

“Honest,” you make him promise. 

He swallows hard and nods. “The man who turned me was cruel. This is a relic of that past. I don’t like to talk about it.”

And because you are trying to trust him, you respect him enough to not ask about the past he had just told you was too painful to bring up. Though, if he’s answering questions, you might as well try to get at least some new information out of him. 

“And the trips?”

His words are careful when he speaks. Like he’s being honest, but not giving you the full truth. “Just business. Sometimes we go to dangerous areas. I take Karlach, Lae’zel, or Wyll with me for protection.”

You’re satisfied enough with that answer and thoroughly distracted when Astarion’s fingers begin to slowly undo the buttons down the back of your dress. Unfortunately, you still haven't been able to master those slippery little devils. Astarion seems content with taking his time on the task- letting his fingers trail teasingly along your spine and occasionally dropping soft kisses along your shoulder. It’s maddening. 

Your corset somehow manages to take twice as long as the buttons on the dress. Astarion seems perfectly happy to let the bath water grow cold as he runs his fingers over every inch of the satiny ribbon that ties the garment to your body. 

When you’re finally undressed, Astarion steps into the tub and settles back in the hot water, resting his head on the edge of the tub with a sigh. 

It’s awkward- you aren’t sure how you’re supposed to position yourself in the large bathtub. Sitting in his lap seems too direct. But you need to make up your mind quickly. Even with the warm fire burning in the room and the steam rising from the hot water of the tub, your bare skin is growing cold the longer you take to decide. 

After you step into the tub, you sit on the opposite side, facing Astarion. Pulling your knees up to your chest, you chew on your lip. You’re nervous- partially because you’re a bit new to showing so much skin around a man and partially because you aren’t sure how much you’re allowed to touch Astarion. You aren’t used to this level of physical intimacy. You had only seen Astarion’s body once before and you had been so caught up in the haze of how silky soft the skin of his cock had felt against your hand and how his eyes were screwed so tightly shut with pleasure that you hadn’t really gotten that good of a peak at what said cock actually looked like. 

And that night had ended… poorly, to say the least. 

“Gone shy, pet? It’s nothing I haven’t seen before,” Astarion says with a cheeky smile. 

You love him, your heart sings. He’s reverting back to that easy banter, trying to help make you more comfortable. Gently, Astarion tugs on your arm and guides you into his lap.

“See,” he leans his forehead against yours, “much better.”

“Much,” you agree, knocking your nose against his before you remind him, “you need blood.”

“Are you offering?”

“Always,” you tease. Astarion’s eyes are hungry as he watches you tilt your neck to the side for him. 

“Devilish woman.” His eyes crackle dangerously, all crimson and fire. It’s a total contradiction to how softly his hand cradles the back of your head as he leans down to your neck.

He presses a long kiss to your skin. The simple act nearly brings tears to your eyes. For weeks, you had let Astarion drink from you. For weeks, he would kiss you so gently before he dug his teeth into your skin- an act of apology, an act of worship. An act of love. 

So much had changed this evening. Your worldview completely shifted, yet again, as you grew accustomed to the idea that Astarion loved you. With every heartbeat, you are reminded- he loves you, he loves you, he loves you. And yet, that one little habit remained the same. 

The soft cold of Astarion’s lips gives way to that familiar sting, to that chill that seeps down to your very bones. You fight to orient yourself for a moment, inhaling deeply to focus. The coldness fades. The familiar lick of desire burns bright within you. 

Astarion’s cool tongue swirling against your skin does nothing to tamper the heat growing within you and the arm he has wrapped around your waist tightens, dragging you in even closer. You feel him everywhere and still, you need more- it’s not enough.

Too quickly, always too quickly, Astarion parts from the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving one last kiss on the hollow of your throat. 

When you look at him, he’s got that gooey, drunk look in his eyes like he always does after he’s fed. The pinkish tint has returned to his cheeks and the tips of his ears now that he’s got some blood in his system and you feel a sense of pride bloom within you.

I did that, you think, that was me.

Astarion reaches his thumb out to swipe up a stripe of blood that must have been leftover from the bite mark on your neck, runny like blood always is when mixed with water. His pretty pink lips close around his thumb as he lewdly sucks it into his mouth. Your mind goes blank as you watch him, entranced. 

“Delicious,” Astarion says with a wicked grin. He knows exactly what he’s doing to you.

“I’m not too bland for you?” You ask, repeating his words from the fight back at him. You’re teasing him, mostly, but that jealous, insecure part of you deep down is looking for his reassurance. “I’m not the late autumn plum that you lament picking?”

“What are you talking about?” Astarion looks at you, brow furrowed in confusion. It takes him a moment before his expression clears and he laughs. He has the audacity to laugh at you. “That’s not what that poem’s about at all, darling. How did you even know about that? Is that why my shirt went missing?”

“That’s not… important… right now…” you say, feeling your face heat up. Astarion’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, tracing his thumb gently over your cheek bone. 

“Do you want to know what that poem means?” He asks, in perhaps the quietest, shyest voice you’ve ever heard Astarion speak with. “For many years, I had nothing except my hunger. My own body didn’t even belong to me. What’s lamentable is someone who is content with that life, with living on scraps of rats and insects. The poem is a reminder to me that I had to keep fighting, a reminder that I refuse to be broken.”

Astarion leans forward, resting his forehead against yours. “You remind me so much of myself, little flower. Your will and your determination, even in a losing fight. That’s what drew me to you that night we first met. In the face of certain death, you couldn’t resist telling me I was wrong.”

You laugh. He’s right, of course- you do love telling people when they are wrong. 

“In truth, your blood is the best I’ve ever had. I fear I have tasted perfection,” he says, letting his nose dip down to trace along your neck. You shiver, keenly aware of how your cunt is resting tantalizingly against one of Astarion’s thighs. All it would take is a little roll of your hips to provide some sweet relief.

But Astarion still needs a bath and your neck still stings a bit. You know from experience the stinging of the twin bites on your skin will last a while longer, so you distract yourself by wetting a hard bar of soap in your hands. You run the soap over Astarion, working it into a lather on his skin.

It’s an excuse to touch him. You know this. He knows this. Neither of you are complaining. 

You take a moment to stroke along the muscles that run from his neck to his shoulders, chasing away some of the knots and sore spots that had developed after so many days hunched over a desk. Astarion lets out content little hums as you work, his eyes slowly falling shut. 

You move to his arms, which he’s draped elegantly over the side of the tub as if in preparation for your work. Moving the soap, you trace along those beautiful, pale blue veins all the way down to the inside of his wrist. Bringing his hand to your mouth, you press a soft kiss to each of his fingertips before repeating the same pattern on his other arm.

When you wash his hair, Astarion practically melts into your hands. It reminds you of Tara how he purrs when you let your nails scratch gently against his scalp.

“Tilt your head back,” you instruct him. You let the water run through his white curls and wash the soap away.

When he comes back up, the two of you just stare at each other for a moment before you’re falling together. It’s one of those hungry kisses that leave you wanting more. All teeth and tongue crashing against one another. One of Astarion’s hands palms at your ass, pulling you closer to him. You tug on Astarion’s lower lip with your teeth and you feel the growl reverberating in his chest. 

Astarion’s length is hard where it presses against your stomach. You move your hand under the water, aching to touch that satiny soft skin again. Astarion deftly catches your hand, intertwining your fingers with his own. 

You huff, frustrated. He always did this. It was as if he thought he didn’t deserve pleasure, too. Or thought you were inexperienced and incapable of giving it to him. You wanted to learn how to please him, desperately, but he was always batting your hands away. 

“Are you truly so cruel you would deny your wife this simple pleasure?” You ask, trying your best to pout in that way that always makes Astarion cave and give you what you want. 

“You’re dramatic,” Astarion brings your entwined fingers up to kiss the back of your hand. “And I’m not cruel. I just refuse to let the first time I have you be in a lukewarm bath. I intend to savor every moment and for that, I will need much more space.”

Astarion speaks in that husky, arrogant voice that sends a shock of electricity straight to your cunt and has you clenching around nothing. 

You try to move a bit and end up banging one of your elbows painfully into the side of the tub. Okay, maybe he has a point. More space would be good. Even if you ache to feel him inside and don’t want to wait.

He helps you out of the tub and your legs are a bit shaky, which puts a self-satisfied smirk on Astarion’s face. He finishes towel drying his hair, curls messy and beautiful as the wet locks lay flat against his skin. His towel drapes around his shoulders and you use it to pull him down for a kiss, your tongues sliding against one another. You feel Astarion’s hands against the back of your thighs and he’s lifting you off your feet so you can wrap your legs around his waist. You’re keenly aware of how your cunt rubs against the thatch of hair at the end of his navel as he walks you over to the bed and gently sets you down on it. 

Astarion kisses down your stomach and you know where he’s going. You cup your hand around his cheek, guiding his face up to look at you.

“Need you,” you practically whine. It’s annoying, how Astarion is able to turn you into this needy little child, how your very being is addicted to him.

“I know just what you need,” he gives you another kiss above your hip bone and you whine again.

“No.” You’re trying to pull him back up now, hands grabbing at his shoulders and arms, trying to settle his weight on top of you again. “Need you to fuck me.”

“Oh? How can I refuse when you beg so sweetly?” He has that sinful look on his face that makes you ravenous for him. “But you’ll have to wait,” Astarion says, moving to settle between your thighs. “You need to be ready so it won’t hurt. And besides, I’ve missed your taste. You won’t deny your husband that, will you?”

He probably has a point. You had barely been able to fully wrap your hand around his cock when you had touched him. And the most you had ever taken inside yourself was, what? Two of Astarion’s beautiful, dexterous fingers? And those already had you feeling stretched to a point where you thought you might shatter.

Astarion’s tongue swirls on your inner thigh, tracing over the faint bruise left from the last time he bit you. He blows cool air over your cunt that has you nearly jumping out of your skin. It forces you to be painfully aware of how wet you are. But Astarion quickly takes pity on you and his cool mouth presses a soft kiss against your cunt before his tongue is darting out, licking so wonderfully. 

Gods, the miracles he can perform with his tongue are sacrilegious. 

Astarion eats you out like his very life depends on it. And when he slowly slips one, and then two, and then three fingers into you, your worldview shrinks to red eyes looking up at you hungrily from between your thighs. 

There’s that familiar warmth rising in your stomach as your trembling hands clutch onto Astarion’s damp hair like a lifeline. A distant part of you laughs about how his normally perfect curls will be a mess when his hair dries. 

With Astarion’s lovely fingers curling inside you and his tongue dancing against your clit, you settle into the warmth that seeps into your bones.

"So good," you manage to pant out when his tongue moves in a particularly delicious way. You feel the coil tightening in your belly before it snaps, waves of pleasure rolling over you as you climax.

When you’ve finally started breathing normally again, Astarion crawls up your body like a fucking predator and you’re practically drooling over him. As he moves, his leg catches yours and he hooks your knee over his thigh, draaaging your leg up with his own.

You’ve never been this aroused in your life. You feel like putty in Astarion’s hands- his to mold and move and control how he wants you. And you know Astarion’s noticed the effect it’s had on you, too. You see that arrogant gleam in his eye that lets you know you are dangerously feeding into his already inflated ego.

And he knows what he’s doing. In this position, he’s opened up your cunt that much further and his own hard cock is pressed against your center. It’s wet- gods, it’s almost obscene how wet it is. And the way Astarion’s cool skin rubs against your most sensitive spots sends a delightful shiver down your spine.

“Astarion-” you manage to choke out. “If you don’t fuck me soon, I think I’m going to die.”

“Perish the thought, dearest, I’d never let that happen.” He says in that cocky, teasing tone that lets you know he’s enjoying this too much.

He stops moving and grips your chin with his hand. You mewl, letting him force you to look at him. His eyes have softened and his face is so open and loving that you think your heart might very well flutter out of your chest and settle inside Astarion’s own rib cage.

“You’re good?” He asks, voice gone soft with concern. 

“So good,” you try to roll your hips against his, ignoring your confusion at his complete change in tone. But at this point, if you don’t have him inside you in the next minute, you think you might spontaneously combust.

“Not what I meant,” Astarion chuckles darkly, his grip on your chin tightening just a bit. “You’re clear headed? You promised me we’d check in.”

Oh, that’s right, the promise. 

“All clear,” you say, tapping the side of your head, trying to ease his concerns with a bit of humor. It seems to work based on the gentle grin that tilts up one corner of his mouth. You focus on committing this moment to memory. “How are you?”

A look of shock passes over Astarion’s face for a moment, so quickly that a lesser trained eye might have missed it completely. It makes you wonder if you’re the first person that has ever bothered to ask Astarion if he’s okay. 

“I’m going to remember this forever,” Astarion reassures, like he’s reading your mind. He gives you one more serious look. “Any point you want to stop, tell me and I will. No questions asked.”

How could this man exist? He seems unreal. Your guardian angel perched above you. 

“Same goes for you,” you tell him, turning your head a bit. Astarion loosens his grip on your chin to allow for the motion and you press a kiss to the inside of his palm. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he leans down and kisses your lips, soft and sweet. “You ready?”

You nod and he shifts his weight onto one forearm so he can grab his cock with his hand. He runs the tip along the length of your cunt teasingly and oh, it feels wonderful against your wet folds. Slowly, he starts pushing into you.

You hiss at the initial sting and Astarion pauses immediately, just sitting with the tip of his cock inside you. He’s kissing all over your face, whispering about how ‘you’re doing so well,’ ‘you feel so good I can hardly stand it,’ and ‘think about how good we’re going to make each other feel, my love’ that has the part of you that feeds on Astarion’s praise soaring. When you start to get used to the stretch, you nod again and Astarion presses in a bit further.

It takes what feels like a small eternity before he’s fully inside you. And oh, the stretch, the fullness has you feeling like you’re ready to shatter at any moment.

“Gods, your cunt is perfect. Like you were made for me,” Astarion says, through gritted teeth. It causes liquid fire to shoot through your veins and your cunt clenches around him. You think you actually manage to catch his brain short-circuiting as he lets out a strangled noise that’s a cross between a growl and a moan. 

“Tight… s-so tight. And wet,” Astarion groans, his mouth nearly hanging open. 

You feel a spark of pleasure deep within yourself over seeing this man- who acts so confident and above everyone- nearly disintegrate into a babbling mess from just the feel of your cunt around him. 

And then, Astarion begins to move and it’s you who becomes a babbling mess. The pressure stings a bit at first, but it doesn’t take long for the sweet feeling of pleasure to overwhelm you completely.

His pace feels torturously slow, as if he’s determined to make you feel every wonderful inch moving in and out of you. 

“More,” you plead, trying to move your own hips to speed up the rhythm. “Faster, please.”

Even when he picks up speed, it feels like he’s holding back.

“I won’t break,” you tell him, hooking one of your legs around his hips to urge him that much deeper inside you. 

Astarion listens to you then, finally, and begins thrusting into you at a rhythm that has your mind spinning. His hand snakes down between your bodies, moving to trace tight circles over your clit.

You feel as if you are ascending to the heavens. It should be impossible to feel this good.

And you’re so close to the edge, so close to that precipice of pure bliss.

“So close, Star,” you manage to gasp out. “So good.”

“Let go, little flower,” he says. “Want to feel you.”

Your second orgasm is earth-shattering. The kind of orgasm that makes it feel as if your soul itself is fracturing like beautiful glass inside you. The kind that has you arching your back and digging your nails into Astarion’s skin as you desperately try to tether yourself to reality. 

Astarion fucks you through it, rocking his hips into yours with a clinical precision that has stars dotting at the edges of your vision. 

He slows for a moment and then stops, hard cock still nestled firmly inside you. You let out a pathetic whine that makes Astarion give an involuntary little buck of his hips. You chase after him with your own, but he rests more of his weight on top of you, effectively trapping you underneath him. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight when you come. I need- I need a minute,” Astarion says, eyes screwed shut.

“Why?” you ask, pushing a lock of messy hair out of his face. It’s a good thing he can’t see himself in a mirror, he’d be distraught at the state of his hair.  “What are you waiting for?”

“Need to- fuck, need this to last. Never want this to end.”

It sends your heart soaring- the fact that Astarion is so determined to try to make this moment last as long as possible. Perhaps, beneath all his layers of pretend smiles and barbed wire guarding his heart, he’s secretly a romantic.

“Doesn’t have to end,” you murmur, nails scratching lightly at his scalp in the way you know he likes. “We can do this forever.”

And then, the most glorious thing happens. Astarion whimpers.

It’s one of those involuntary sounds that worked its way up from the back of his throat. You think you could grow used to the surge of power you feel inside you at forcing Astarion to lose his carefully practiced control. You want him to whimper again.

You use your grip on his hair to move his face towards yours to kiss him and you speak against his mouth, “Let me take care of you for once.”

You feel his nose rub against yours as he nods and you grin wickedly in triumph, gently pushing him off you so he’s laying back on the bed. Astarion looks confused for a moment before you settle on his lap, moving to guide him back inside you. You’re still so sensitive after your last orgasm, you feel every wonderful ridge and vein of his cock inside you. 

You lean down, biting his ear before you whisper, “You deserve to not have to do all the work for once.”

And then you move, rising and lowering yourself against his cock. This new angle has him hitting impossibly deeper, has him pressing against some secret, sponge-y spot that makes your toes curl every time he’s fully inside you.

So, this was what all the fuss was about. Why men waged wars and forsook religion. For what gods can compete with the way that Astarion moved inside you? And what cruel gods indeed if they forbade this act of your salvation. You felt as if you had been born anew atop Astarion’s cock. 

You bite your lip, trying to dampen the barrage of noises that threaten to spill out of you.

“No,” Astarion nearly cries out, his thumb coming up to pull your lower lip out from between your teeth. “Need to- fuck, need to hear you.”

Oh, he’s desperate in the best way possible. You stop holding back- let out every gasp and moan and curse. Astarion’s hands come up to your breasts- kneading and squeezing them and pinching your nipples and he’s looking at you with such awe that you think you could tell him you were an angel sent from the heavens and he would believe you. 

Your thighs are starting to burn when Astarion’s hand moves from your breasts to curl around your throat and you mewl at how perfectly his hand fits around your neck. His thumb traces gently over his bite mark from earlier, his eyes getting even more desperate and hungry, all fiery red like he’s going to consume you alive. 

Astarion is not subtle about his obsession with the marks and bruises he leaves on your skin. 

You think that animalistic, instinctual part of him is proud of the idea that everyone knows he was the one to give you those marks. And you have never tried to hide them, even if particularly nasty marks on the column of your throat sent Gale’s eyes skittering to look anywhere but you and caused Shadowheart to make snide comments about them as she helped you dress. 

You toss your hair over your shoulder, displaying the bite even more proudly, still rolling your hips against his own. 

Astarion uses his grip around your neck to pull you down against him and press his mouth to yours in a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth. One of his fangs must catch on something because there’s that wonderful metallic taste of blood being shared between you two.

“Where?” He pants out against your lips.

And because you’re a little dizzy with the influx of new sensations, your brain can’t quite decipher what Astarion means. “Where what?” 

“Where can I come, darling?”

Oh. Oh.

Although Astarion could have told you simply that the sky was blue in that husky voice and it would have caused your eyes to roll back in your head, those deliciously racy words out of his mouth have you practically turning into mush. 

“Gods,” you breathe out. “Anywhere you want. Inside?”

Because the idea of being separated from him for even a moment seems unbearable. And that was the right answer based on the way Astarion’s hips start to buck into you with wild abandon. 

You continue to move together, two inseparable bodies- unable to tell where one ends and the other begins. His cock pulses inside you before he lets out a strangled moan and you feel him come inside you.

Tired and spent, with aching thighs, you settle yourself on top of Astarion. You have laid your head on his chest many times and his lack of heartbeat will never get less foreign. Though, you do feel a sense of satisfaction that he’s also exhausted- panting beneath you and trying to catch his breath. Astarion’s cool chest feels wonderful against your flushed, sweaty skin. 

“Where did an innocent thing like you even learn about this position?” Astarion asks and you can hear the delighted little teasing tone in his voice. “Here I was thinking I’d have all sorts of fun things to teach you.”

Despite the fact that Astarion cannot see your face, you roll your eyes. You know he thinks you naive and bashful because you are inexperienced. 

“Married women whisper rather loudly if you know how to eavesdrop,” you tell him. “You can find out all sorts of salacious secrets- whose husband has a mistress or whose child might have been born a bit too early after the wedding. More interestingly, you learn all about what scandalous things happen in the bedroom between married couples. ‘Riding Saint George’ caused quite the uproar a few seasons ago.”

“Is that what they’re calling it nowadays?” Astarion laughs and you feel his chest rumbling underneath your cheek. 

“And I know all sorts of things,” you defend yourself to Astarion. “Most other ‘prim’ and ‘proper’ ladies would have balked the moment your head went between their thighs.”

“Well, I can’t wait to see the extent of your knowledge. And fill in any gaps that might arise,” he says in a low, seductive voice that makes you keenly aware of the fact that his cock is still inside you. 

Propping your head up on Astarion’s chest, you look at him, giggling a bit at the way his dark, sultry eyes contradict rather comedically with the mess that had become his hair. He’d need a small fortune’s worth of pomade to tame it.

“We probably should have saved the bath for after that, huh?” you grin, reaching up to brush some of the loose curls away from his forehead. 

When Astarion laughs, you use that as the opportunity to slip off of him, hissing at the dull ache between your thighs and the feeling of how desperately you already miss him inside you. 

Astarion gets up to find the towel that had somehow ended up thrown over the folding screen in the corner of the room as the two of you had desperately clawed at one another and stumbled over to the bed. Astarion wets the towel and returns, gently wiping it in between your legs.

You hiss. Astarion looks at you worried, like he just committed the greatest crime in the world by hurting you. 

“Sensitive, s’all,” you explain and he returns to carefully wiping away any residue of your coupling. 

Astarion’s arm wraps around your waist as he settles next to you on the bed. He has a book on his bedside table that you grab and read aloud. It’s wonderful how easily the two of you settle back into your old patterns. You read until your eyes start to grow heavy and you instead shift your focus your attention to studying Astarion’s beautiful face. His eyes close and he relaxes as you gently trace your fingers over his strong brow, down his lovely nose, over the curve of his jaw.

“Can you turn into a bat?” You ask, half on your way to sleep. 

“Why would you possibly be wondering that after I’ve just given you the most memorable night of pleasure you’ve ever known?” Astarion asks, eyes opening to look at you as if you’ve grown a second head.

You giggle and poke him on the tip of his nose. He playfully catches your finger in his mouth and gives it a gentle bite. 

“I don’t know. I always thought they were cute when I was a girl. And I think you’re cute now. And you’re a vampire. My mind just connected some dots.”

Astarion rolls his eyes, “I’m not cute, darling. Dashingly handsome or devilishly good-looking, maybe, but not cute.”

“I think it would be weirder if I called a bat dashingly handsome than if I called you cute,” you say, scrunching up your nose. 

You had missed this- the easy back and forth that you always managed to find with Astarion. You had been so lonely without him, your best friend. Yet another reason why you love him is because he understands you innately, because the two of you have managed to dig your way so far under each other’s skins and find a home there. 

“I’d rather you didn’t compare me to a bat at all,” Astarion says, still acting as if you have gravely offended him by daring to call him cute and like he doesn’t require your compliments as a basic necessity to survive. He lets out a sigh, as if you are greatly annoying him (you both know you are not) and finally answers your question. “And no, I can’t turn into one. As a general rule, I try to stay as far away from rodents as possible.”

Weird rule, you think. 

“Pity, I’d bet you’d be cute. You’d probably be white, like one of those albino ones,” you tease, bringing your hand up to tug on his mess of white curls. 

“I worry for your sanity, darling.”

You gasp, a big dramatic one that Astarion himself would be proud of. “Don’t tell me you just passed up an opportunity to make a joke about how you ‘fucked me stupid’ or something obscene like that.”

“I would never debase myself with such vulgarity.” He says in mock offense at your words before his lips twist up in a lecherous grin that you know means trouble. “Besides, it sounds so much better from your lips, my love.”

Astarion leans forward and kisses you on your vulgar mouth.

The two of you resume holding each other, wrapped in your little cocoon of love. But your mind is still elsewhere.

“I found one when I was younger, you know,” you break the silence.

Astarion hums. “One what?” 

“A bat,” you remind him. “It was right after my mother died. The poor thing was injured. It had a broken wing and was just crawling helplessly on the ground. I brought it home with me, foolishly thinking I could heal it. When my father found it in my room that night, he made me watch while a servant killed it. He told me I shouldn’t be messing around with nature, that I was lucky it didn’t give me rabies.”

You shiver a bit at the memory of the bat’s tiny head caved in where your father had ordered a servant to take a shovel to the animal. You think of that poor man’s distraught face, how he had been unable to disobey if he wanted to keep his job, if he wished to be able to feed his family.

You continue speaking, “It felt like my father was telling me that caring about something doesn’t matter. But I disagree with that- I think we should try to help the things we love no matter what. Even if it is a stupid bat that might give you rabies.”

“I’d still love you. Foaming mouth and all,” Astarion smiles at you.

“Liar,” you say, poking his cheek.

Astarion frowns, but doesn’t say anything for a long time. You see him chewing on something in his mind but you give him time- you try to trust him to tell you when he is ready. 

“You’re going to die some day,” his voice is grim when he speaks. “Unless…”

Well, that’s a bummer. 

“Unless I’m a vampire,” you complete his train of thought.

And you can’t say the idea had never occurred to you. Especially as you had sat at Astarion’s bedside when he was injured. 

At times, he had been thrashing and screaming so violently that he would reopen the wound on his abdomen. You had been frantic watching him like that. Shadowheart had to practically pry you away from him so that he didn’t accidentally injure you in his flailing.

You never speak of those memories with Astarion, no matter how deeply they haunt you. You know they would only serve to embarrass him, that he would only interpret your care as pity. You know this because you would think the same.

But as you sat and watched him, useless except for your blood, you had a long, long time to think about what would have happened if you were the one that was injured. Would Astarion have cared? Would he have sat at your bedside in anguish as you recovered? 

No, you had realized. Because a wound like his would have left you dead. 

“When I asked you if you’d ever want to be a vampire, you said you didn’t know if you would. That it would depend on the circumstances. Is that still true?” Astarion asks, searching your face for an answer you’re unsure you’re able to give. 

Because it’s not that you don’t ever want to be a vampire. It’s just all too soon. You and Astarion had only been married for six months and you had just gotten back on solid ground after a very rocky two weeks. 

And you know that you do want Astarion forever, but you also want to settle into this new life with him for a while longer. There was still so much he was hiding from you and you don’t want the memory of your turning to be tainted by doubts or hesitation. It should be a joyous occasion- the true union of your souls that you didn’t get at your wedding.

“I don’t know…” you trail off, a bit unsure of how to put your thoughts into words that will not hurt Astarion’s feelings. Instead, you choose to deflect, “Do you want to turn me? Is that why you’re asking this?”

“I can’t stand the thought of you being harmed. Of you dying.” Astarion laments, his eyes all blood red, reminding you of that monstrous gash in his side. “What a miserable existence that would be, not after I have known the ecstasy of being with you. Everything else just seems dull in comparison.”

And he’s right, the idea of a life without him seems hollow. Survivably, certainly, but lackluster. It reminds you of how Astarion can only see the gardens at night- still beautiful, still worth experiencing, but not nearly as vibrant or wonderful as you knew it could be. 

“I know I want to be a vampire someday,” you say. “I dread the thought of growing older while you remain unchanged. I hate the idea of becoming a burden to you in my old age.”

“You could never be a burden. And that’s a long way off,” Astarion tries to reassure you. 

Because for him, time isn’t running out. For him, time stretches and flows lazily like a river into the sea. And he had been like this for so long, had been a vampire many lifetimes longer than he had been alive. You can’t even begin to help him conceptualize what you mean, but you try anyway. 

“A long way off for me, but that’s nothing for you, Astarion. It will pass before you even notice.” You take a deep breath and try to communicate the thoughts that you yourself are not sure you fully understand. Interlacing your fingers with Astarion’s, you guide his hand to your mouth so you can press a kiss to the back of it. “I do want this, I want a life with you. Forever. I’m just- I’m not ready yet. Let me enjoy being alive a while longer. Let me choose when and how it happens.”

With a gentle smile, Astarion says, “Of course, my love. Just say when.”

—----------

Astarion hardly even lets you leave his bed the next few days. Not that you’re complaining about it. He separates himself only long enough to tell Gale to bring your meals to his room for the foreseeable future. Astarion’s very specific about how Gale is only supposed to knock and how under no circumstances are you to open that door. 

From your spot in the bed, linen sheets pulled up over your chest in an attempt to protect your modesty, you think you overhear Gale saying, “Under no circumstances would I want to,” before he leaves.

The next couple of months are a blur of sitting in front of warm fireplaces and reading and you and Astarion wrapped together, his cool skin only intensifying the burning desire within you. With the warmth in your heart, you wouldn’t even be able to tell it’s the dead of winter. The weather outside is dreary and miserable and you don’t even notice because you and Astarion are too consumed in one another. 

And touching. Always touching. Astarion seems unable to ever let you be out of his grasp, even if it was as simple as your feet being pressed against one another underneath the table at meals. 

The best part about winter is the long nights which allow you to keep the curtains open that much longer without fear for Astarion’s safety. He relaxes in the darkness, comes alive like those silly moonflowers you planted for him. In the dark, he’s less restrained, more confident (if it was possible to describe Astarion as more confident). 

You come to realize that Astarion doesn’t like the cold based on how he’s unable to resist warming his hands when he sees a fire and the pile of quilts he stacks on top of the two of you in bed before you sleep. You would wake up stifling if not for Astarion’s cool touch beneath the sheets. 

It’s wonderful how easily the two of you balance each other- hot and cold, alive and dead, sun and moon. 

And although Astarion hates winter, with enough carefully timed pouting, you do force him to humor you one evening when there’s a particularly beautiful snow. He bundles himself up in about ten layers and grumbles the whole time he’s pulling on his thick woolen greatcoat.

“Enough layers,” you laugh, tugging on his hands to pull him outside. 

“I’m freezing,” he says, stopping completely and tugging you backward by your interlaced hands when you’ve only made it about three steps out the door.

The sky is cloudy and there’s no silvery moonlight to highlight Astarion’s beauty tonight. You have to be content with the way the torches that line the entrance to the manor make his face all shadows and sharp angles. 

“Poor star,” you say in a mocking tone. You step back toward him, reaching up to press a kiss to his cheek as you promise in a low voice, “I’ll warm you up later.”

“I’d much prefer if you would warm me up now.”

“Patience is a virtue, my love,” you tell him and drag him out further into the snow.

He catches you around the waist, pulling you against him to whisper in your ear, “I’m not a virtuous man.”

And for a second, you do consider the merits of letting him drag you back inside. But it’s been so long since you’ve seen a snow this pretty and it’s getting late in the season and you aren’t going to let your lust-addled mind win out. Astarion could wait- you would have a lifetime with him. You need to appreciate fleeting moments as they come. 

“Help me build a snowman,” you say, attempting to distract yourself from the flames of desire burning hot within you. 

Astarion looks incredulous, “What do you take me for? A child?”

“I take you for a man who loves his wife very much and would make her very happy if he listened to her,” you say, looking up at him and trying to bat your lashes in that way he can’t resist.

He sighs, one of those big dramatic ones that is meant to make you feel like you’re the biggest inconvenience he’s ever encountered. Always an actor, your husband. You have grown to appreciate it now that you can understand the man beneath the performance. 

“The last thing I want is to ruin my beautiful nails,” he says with a frown.

“You’re wearing gloves,” you point out, laughing at his theatrics. 

“It’s the principle of the thing, darling,” he says, rolling his eyes. “I’ll supervise. That suits my talents far better.”

And so, Astarion sets to work micromanaging you like his life depends on it. Over a stupid snowman that he called childish. 

You can hardly even pack a bit of snow into a ball before Astarion is complaining about it being lopsided or that the ratio between the different snowballs is off and making the thing look ugly. It takes entirely too long to complete. 

You wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You look at the completed snowman for a second, feeling a sense of accomplishment in your work. And then, you reach out to kick it over. 

“See,” you grin up at Astarion. “That’s the fun part.”

“Gods, you’re ridiculous,” Astarion says, leaning down to kiss you. 

But you also know he’s secretly disappointed he didn’t get to kick down a snowman. 

“C’mon, I’ll build another one for you,” you tell him.

When he isn’t looking, you roll a ball of snow in your hands and throw it at his back. He stiffens and turns, shooting you an angry glare over his shoulder. Trying to hold back your laughter, you reach down to collect another bunch of snow in your hands.

“Don’t you dare-” Astarion starts to say, but is interrupted by the snowball that strikes him directly in the center of his chest. “Oh, you’ll pay for that, you insolent little-”

You let out a little shriek as he starts to chase after you. With your feet sinking into the snow, you aren’t able to run very fast and Astarion somehow manages to move so deftly and sneakily, as if the snow itself was helping to hold him aloft. He gains on you quickly. It feels so different than that first night in the garden, when you had been running for your very life. This time, you sneak peaks over your shoulder, admiring Astarion’s beauty and eagerly awaiting for him to catch up to you. 

You’re a bit off-balance when his hands finally wrap around your waist. The two of you end up tumbling into the snow and you land on top of Astarion with a loud ‘oof.’

And although Astarion hates the cold, he settles into snow beneath him, wrapping his arms around you tighter and pressing your foreheads together as you both shake in laughter. He looks beautiful like this, underneath you. The tip of his nose is red from the cold air. He looks alive. 

After your laughing fit subsides, Astarion says with exasperation, “Well, if I’m already down here.”

He starts moving his arms up and down in the snow and it’s a bit jarring considering you’re still laying on top of him.

Oh, you realize. He’s trying to make snow angels. 

With a delighted giggle, you roll off him into the snow to join him, moving your arms and legs in time. With every stroke of your arms, you make sure to reach out so that your gloved fingers brush against his.

Eventually, you pull yourself up out of the snow, carefully brushing the snow out of the fur lining your coat and thinking about how Shadowheart is going to scold you tomorrow for getting the beautiful fur all wet. Astarion stays on the ground, elegantly sprawled and content to watch you. His pale skin and white hair would almost blend in if not for the rosy pink on his cheeks and nose. You feel a sense of pride simmering within you that it was your blood which gave him that lovely coloring. 

“Help me up?” Astarion asks, holding his hands out for you to grab.

“No! You’re just going to pull me down again! You’re not nearly as clever as you think you are.”

Astarion pouts. You hate to admit that you are just as susceptible to giving him what he wants as he is to you. 

“Spoiled little rich boy,” you huff, grabbing his hands to pull him up. You can tell he’s pulling back against you, trying to be difficult. “Come on, you’re making this hard on purpose!”

Astarion laughs and finally stands up, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you tight against him. The wool collar of his coat is soft and a bit fuzzy where it brushes against your cheek. 

“Thank you, my love.” Astarion says in a quiet voice, dropping a kiss along your hairline. “I haven’t laughed that hard in years. You help me remember what it’s like to feel young again.”

Oh, there goes your little heart. Thumping away like a racehorse. 

“You are still young. Or at least, you still look young,” you tease.

“Not everyone can age as gracefully as me,” Astarion says wistfully, as if his beauty is some great curse that he is forced to live with. 

“Like a fine wine,” you agree, playing into his ego. 

“I do recall that you promised to warm me up,” Astarion murmurs huskily in your ear. It has your head spinning and your cunt aching. “I’d like to take you up on that offer now.”

You nod, breathless, and let him lead you back inside. The two of you strip out of your wet clothes, spreading out on a blanket in front of the fire and you thoroughly warm Astarion by sinking to your knees and using your mouth on him. 

You curl around one another after, Astarion’s head against your chest as you cuddle together underneath a blanket. 

“I have to leave tomorrow,” Astarion says, interrupting the comfortable silence.

“Have to?” you challenge him, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. “And let me guess- I can’t come. That’s why you humored me tonight.”

“You know I worry too much about your safety. So no, you cannot come. Not while you’re still human.”

“I don’t appreciate you using my humanity as a bargaining chip,” you hiss back at him. 

You know he doesn’t mean to make you mad. You know that deeply, down to his core, Astarion is terrified of losing you and that fear will always be present until you ascend past the confines of mortality.

Astarion takes a deep breath, shifting his weight onto his arm so he can hover over you and see your face. His voice softens as he looks down at your angry, furrowed brow, “I apologize, little flower, that’s not my intent. I just- I would be too worried about you, it would jeopardize everyone else’s safety and they don’t deserve that.”

He’s right, of course. And you appreciate him listening to you and reframing his words in a better way. That is what love is- challenging the other person to do better. 

But you can’t help feeling that you could be of use if Astarion would just tell you what’s going on. You have your own anxieties. You worry greatly for his safety, too. And it just feels a bit like he’s prioritizing himself over you. It doesn’t feel equal. 

When you’re still silent, Astarion drags his thumb gently across cheek, “We can take another trip when I get back. Just the two of us, anywhere you want to go.”

You smile at him. You really do see and appreciate him trying. 

You do not know Astarion’s romantic history, but you are sure he must have had many, many lovers based partly on how skilled he is at sex, but based mostly on how wonderful he is. Who wouldn’t want to be around him? Who wouldn’t fall in love with this man immediately? He was snarky and funny and somehow still managed to be impossibly sweet and gentle. 

But you also had a feeling that Astarion was not very experienced at being in love. There were times where he seemed so unsure, times where he seemed almost clumsy with his love, and many times like this where it felt like the two of you were speaking different languages. You were both still learning how to work together and how to compromise after so long of only looking out for yourselves. 

“Where are you going?” You ask.

“To the Underdark,” Astarion says. And he must expect your displeased response because he rolls to lie next to you, so that he is looking at the ceiling instead of your upset face. 

“Why on earth would you be going to a place like that?” You ask, surprised. The Underdark was a lawless, dangerous place. It was where criminals and lowlives congregated and festered. You can see the wheels in Astarion’s head turning, trying to come up with some lawyer-y answer that doesn’t answer your question at all so you use the promise. “Honest.”

And so far, he has respected that promise. Usually, his answers were purposefully vague. But sometimes he gave you answers that were actually useful. You had finally learned who the strange people he was always whispering with were. Astarion had even introduced you to them over dinner the next time they had visited. 

Karlach you had met previously, when Astarion was injured. You didn’t like to think about that time. It was much easier to pretend you first met Karlach over dinner, where she was all big smiles and boisterous laughter. You got along with her easily, but she seemed like the type of person that everyone got along with.

Lae’zel was the mean-looking lady and she was from very far away, Astarion had explained. Her homeland didn’t have the same restrictions for women, so she was raised and trained to be a warrior before they met in Baldur’s Gate. She didn’t say much at dinner, just chewed her meat angrily. 

And Wyll was the man with the two differently-colored eyes. He was very polite and very cordial- the perfect gentleman. He promised to dance with you at the next ball after Astarion had made a mocking comment about his fancy feet. 

But tonight, Astarion’s voice is measured when he speaks, each word carefully chosen. “I’m looking for something. And I just got some new information that leads me to believe I’ll find what I’m looking for there.”

Humming in acknowledgement, you choose not to pry further, no matter how desperately you want to. You respected Astarion enough to use the promise of honesty sparingly. He deserves the opportunity to tell you things of his own free will. 

But really, you could have guessed he was looking for something. At least now you have confirmation. Now, you just need to figure out what he’s looking for. And why.

“How long do you expect to be gone?” You ask instead, turning your head to study his profile.

“A few days. A week at most. I’m going to take both Lae’zel and Karlach with me. The only thing I want to repeat about my last trip is to see you welcoming me home, full of blood for me to drink.” Astarion turns his head to give a mischievous little grin. 

You know he is trying to deflect, trying to lighten the mood with playful banter. But you can’t help but feel your heart stutter in your chest as you picture him, bloody and wounded, bleeding out in front of you. You tear your gaze away from Astarion, back to the ceiling so you can close your eyes, willing away those horrible images. 

“I’ll miss you,” you tell him and you feel his pinky finger brush against your own. It makes you smile. Touching. Always touching. You sigh, “I get bored when you’re gone. And it’s winter, so I can’t even work in the garden to keep me busy.”

“I fear what happens when you grow bored,” Astarion teases. He’s probably right to fear considering the last time you were too bored you had broken into his study. 

Astarion presses himself up again to lean over you again, eyes hungry and redder than blood. “You’ve given me such a lovely memory tonight to think of when my time on the road grows dull. Perhaps I need to give you one, as well.”

He leans down to give you a lingering kiss. You savor the way his lips glide against yours, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. Astarion’s hand begins to trail up from your hip slowly, over the curve of your waist, heading toward where your hardened nipples press against his own chest. 

“Not tonight, too tired,” you yawn and Astarion’s hand dances back down over your ribs, instead, his thumb moving in little circles over your skin. You give him your own imitation of one of his signature sinful smiles as you say, “And I have plenty of those memories already, but they’re a poor substitute to actually being with you. My hands just aren’t as adept as yours. Makes me miss you worse.”

“It’s true, I do have wonderful hands.” Astarion lifts one of his hands up between the two of you to admire it. You bring your own hand up to meet his, pressing your palms together and appreciating how his hand compares to yours. 

Astarion twines your fingers together. The fire crackles and glints against his gold wedding ring.

His wedding ring.

Which had been noticeably missing from his ring finger since the night of your wedding. 

“You’re wearing your ring,” you point out, a thrill of pleasure running through your veins. You continue moving his hand, watching how the firelight twists and shines off the gold. 

Good, you think, let the world know that this perfectly imperfect man is mine. 

“Have been for weeks, pet. I thought you noticed it already and just didn’t say anything.” Astarion says with that soft voice reserved especially for you. 

You detangle your hand from his, sliding the ring off his finger as you go.

“What are you doing?” Astarion asks, trying to pull it back out of your grasp so he can put it back on his finger. 

You push Astarion off you and sit up and Astarion looks utterly lost about what’s going on. You’re content to let him sweat for a little bit because you feel he didn’t make a big enough deal about the fact that he had started to wear his ring again. 

Pulling your hair over your shoulder, you turn to look at Astarion. “Help me.”

Astarion- dutiful, devoted husband that he is- sits up to help you unclasp the necklace chain which holds your own ring. You slide the delicate gold band off the chain for the first time since you had put it there and press the ring into his palm while you hold onto his own. 

“Let’s try this again. Do you, Astarion Ancunin, take me to be your lawfully wedded wife?” You ask in a low voice, trying to be serious in what feels like a childish, silly moment. 

You are worried that Astarion will laugh at you for being foolishly sentimental but when you look at him, Astarion is gazing back at you with a matching goofy grin on his face, like you had just hung the sun and stars in the sky for him. 

“I do,” he says and his lovely, beautiful voice lilts through the air and dances its way into your heart. You slip the ring back over his finger, cherishing the way the gold looks nearly incandescent against his pale skin.

Mine, you think, now and forever.

You motion with your hand for him to go next.

Astarion clears his throat. “Do you take me to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I do,” you choke out in a whisper and Astarion slips the ring onto your finger, leaning forward to rest his forehead against yours. You think you might have seen tears welling up in his eyes and your own vision is starting to go a bit blurry. It feels like the wedding you never really got. 

“Where’s Gale to tell you to ‘kiss the bride’ when you need him?” You ask with a watery laugh.

“I think I can manage that perfectly well by myself,” Astarion huffs. “And knowing Gale, we’d be here all day before he got around to saying the important part.”

“Who’s the one being wordy now? Just kiss me already,” you tease.

And he does. Over and over and over again until your lips are swollen and your head is spinning.

“I’ll miss you,” Astarion murmurs against your lips. 

His words tear you back to reality, force you to remember a world outside of this perfect moment, which has wrapped around the two of you like a warm blanket. 

“You don’t have to miss me if you take me with you,” you point out, nudging your nose against his. 

“Cute,” Astarion says. “But not going to work.”

You pout in that way that always makes Astarion give you what you want.

Astarion kisses the tip of your nose. “That won’t work either.”

Alas, that’s all the dirty tricks you have left in your metaphorical pocket. 

“You better bring me back something really good, then,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him. 

Astarion laughs- all golden and shimmery and filling the room with the warmth of the sun. 

—-------

Astarion wakes you up with a gentle kiss the next evening, when the sun is just about to slip past the horizon into night. He’s kneeling beside the bed, dressed in what can only be described as armor. It’s concerning, to say the least. The Underdark is dangerous, certainly, but the implication that whatever he’s doing is dangerous enough warrant armor has you even more worried. 

“Goodbye, my love. I’ll be back in a few days,” Astarion’s voice is soft and his fingers run gently through your hair. It would be the perfect way to wake up if he wasn’t leaving.

“Be safe. I love you” you tell him, feeling hopeless at your lack of control over whether he will return home safely. 

“I love you, too. Go back to sleep,” he urges you, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. 

There’s something gnawing at you as you watch him slip silently out of the bedroom door. It still feels like he’s not telling you the truth. 

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

Notes:

Yay! Everyone is happy (for now…)

Not going to lie, I had a whole blowjob scene written for this chapter and decided to cut it because this thing is already monstrously long without it and I honestly didn't feel like it was contributing anything new to the story. So I'll probably repurpose it for a later chapter or I might post it as a separate little side fic because it did have some dialogue that I thought was funny that wouldn't work later. We'll see…

Fun fact, the 'lamentable is the autumn picker' poem is something that Astarion did have sewn into his shirt in early access and as a poetry lover, I think it is one of the loveliest lines I've ever read. He's also got a funny little line sewn into his underwear in the game that makes me laugh: 'If you're reading this, you managed to bed or behead me. Either way, you got lucky.'

Another fun fact, 'Riding Saint George' was actually a regency era slang term for riding a guy. It comes from the story of Saint Georgy and the Dragon, where the dragon looms over St. George. So the phrase essentially means that the woman (like the dragon) is on top during 'amorous congress.' I heard about this term in a different regency era fic I read forever ago and I thought it was so funny and I'm so happy I finally got the chance to use it somewhere.

I'm going to try to have chapter 7 out at around the same time as normal next Sunday but I am in grad school and going to a conference out of town next weekend so it depends a bit on when I can sneak away to post. Fair warning, the next two chapters are going to be very plot heavy and then we will be back to more fluffy, smutty goodness for the final two chapters.

I love you guys so much!!! I wish I could give all of you little kisses on the foreheads! It makes my day every time I read a new comment and I felt like an evil overlord all week feasting on your suffering from last chapter lol. Thanks for sharing this crazy journey with me- it makes it all the more fun!

As always, hugest thank you to my beta-writer AliensNSuch on ao3.

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

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

[bellysoupset]

Vince sick with the flu at Wendy's birthday

Vince knew he was bound to catch the bug after being so terribly exposed, he had just been counting on the fact he had gotten the stomach flu back in the end of January and hoping this meant he was immune.

No such luck.

Not only he had definitely caught the bug, judging by how upset and gurgly his belly felt, but he had caught it on Wendy's birthday. He wanted to cry.

"Are you alright?" His father asked, looking up from the dishes he was doing when Vince groaned, tugging at the roots of his hair.

"I think I caught the stomach bug that's going around the school," he answered and Giuseppe frowned, drying his hands on the dishcloth and walking closer.

His palm was cold against Vince's forehead, all soft thanks to age, "you're a little warm, piccolino," he hadn't called Vin that since his son had outgrown him.

"That's just great," Vince sighed, leaning slightly on his dad's touch. He wanted nothing more than to go upstairs and crawl up into his childhood bed, let his family fuss over him, but instead he had to hit the road. There was no way he was going to miss Wen's birthday.

They had already talked the night before, video called at midnight so he could wish her happy birthday, and texted in the morning, Wendy sending excited updates about everything.

Her parents had sent her a huge breakfast basket with flowers and she had gotten a bunch of chocolate from patients, which Wendy was over the moon about as it was her first time getting gits from patients.

She was going to have lunch with Bella, Jonah, Barbie and Megan and then the party was going to be at night, at a rooftop and Vince knew for a fact that Jon had gotten fireworks for her as a surprise.

"I have to get going," Vin forced himself to pull back and stand up. As soon as he stood up, he felt all sorts of woozy, so Vin grabbed the wall behind him and breathed through his mouth until the slight vertigo faded away.

Giuseppe's silver eyebrows were up, blue eyes scanning him, "you're planning on driving like this? No, you're not."

"Babbo, I can't not go," Vince sighed, "I'm gonna drive slow, I promise. And text you as soon as I get there."

His father didn't look one bit pleased, "at least take some medicine before you go..." he mumbled, looking nervous about the prospect.

Although the old man looked fearful, he did let Vin go, without telling Ma about the fact he was sick, something Vince was very grateful for. There was no way his mother was going to be this cool about him getting in the motorcycle when feeling that woozy.

By the time Vince entered the big city, he was freezing. It was only partially due to the fever, it was the last day of February, so it wasn't exactly warm to begin with.

He had the key to Wen's apartment and she, thankfully, still wasn't home, so Vince headed straight to the bathroom. His reflection was a sight, his skin had gone from its usual light olive tone straight into green territory, all pale and with dark circles around his eyes. His lips were devoid of color and his hair had flattened down around his head, clinging to his clammy skin.

"Looking handsome," Vince grumbled, planting his hands on the sink and taking a steadying breath as his stomach gurgled uncomfortably. The nausea was taking its sweet pace building and currently he was covered in goosebumps, his mouth feeling sticky and sweet.

Vin stumbled into the shower area and turned up the hot water, hoping to wash away the look of sickness. He had very little energy, so he just stood under the stream, letting the water do most of the work.

He washed his hair and then gagged when the scent of conditioner hit his nose, making him rush to wash it off. It was to no avail, and Vince leaned over the drain, retching softly until a thin stream of watery puke came up.

It brought no relief whatsoever, but his stomach's muscles relaxed, leaving him still just as nauseated and unable to barf. Vince groaned, washing away the evidence and his face all over again.

Once he stepped out of the bathroom, with Wen's large lilac towel wrapped around his waist, Vince opened a smile as he saw Wen had left an outfit picked out on top of the bed.

He put on the boxers and the social pants and was sitting on the edge of the bed, struggling to tie his social shoes since the position squeezed his tummy, when Wendy opened the bedroom door.

"Oh hi..." she sounded all breathless and Vince didn't have to force a smile. His girlfriend stood at the doorway of her bedroom, with her hair in rollers and a pink robe.

"Hi birthday girl," Vince grinned, "c'mere-" he got up to kiss her and Wendy's whole face turned pink as she promptly wrapped her arms around his neck, getting on her tippy toes.

They stumbled back inside the bedroom and Vince bit down a groan as he felt Wendy climb his lap, still kissing him fiercely. He moved his face, planting a kiss on her neck and squeezing her on a hug.

"I missed you," Vince whispered, planting a kiss on her shoulder, pushing her robe out of the way, "I missed you so much."

Wendy let out a pleased sigh, pulling back and running her fingers through his humid hair, "I missed you too," she pressed her forehead to his, "I almost wish we could just stay in bed."

Vince snorted at that, patting her ass so she'd get off his lap, "no, you don't, you'd never miss your own party."

She blushed as he read her so easily, then climbed off of him, "I'm just gonna take a quick shower, can't get the hair wet. Are you almost done?"

Almost, he just really needed to throw up first, Vince thought, but kept his happy smile on.

"Yeah, pretty much. Take your time, though," he kissed her temple and swatted her ass, "I'm gonna go get your gift."

"My gift?" Wendy's voice went up at least two notes as she smiled and Vince rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, your gift," he steered her to the bathroom, "c'mon, you don't wanna be late."

He had left Wendy's gift in his backpack and Vince went to the living room to retrieve it, while buttoning up his shirt. She had picked a deep red button up, her favorite color on him.

Vince sat on the couch as he heard the shower running, allowing his mask to slip and wrapping an arm around his stomach. Even though he had left his belt quite lose and not yet tucked in the shirt, he already felt like he was being squeezed by it all.

His intestines were gurgling something fierce and when Vin pressed on his warm, sensitive belly, he felt a burp sneak up his throat. Airy and with no sound, but turning wet at the end. Vin snapped his mouth shut, swallowing back the urge to gag.

He felt another shudder run up his spine and Vince pressed his eyes closed, valiantly fighting a cramp- Then he heard the bathroom door open and immediately pulled himself together, pushing everything out of his mind and getting up.

Wendy was already in her shapewear, pulling out a deep magenta dress from her closet. She had removed her hair from the rollers and they fell around her heart shaped face like old Hollywood waves.

"You look great," Vince smiled, leaning against the bedroom's doorway, "you look gorgeous."

Wendy opened a big smile, then she caught a glimpse of the simple black box in his hands and raised her eyebrows, "what is it?"

"Turn around," Vince stepped closer, holding the large square box. He was quite nervous about it, actually. It hadn't been cheap, but it was nowhere near what a girl like her was used to. He knew Wendy was the Harry Winston and Cartier sort, so he was really nervous about buying her jewelry.

Vince put the necklace around her neck and planted a kiss on top of her head as she looked at her reflection in the closet mirror, "what do you think?"

It was a simple white gold necklace, with a flower pendant made of four rubies and the center a topaz.

Wendy didn't say a thing, leaning in to inspect it and Vince cringed, feeling a whole new layer of nausea wash over him.

"I know it's no Tiffany's or whatever, but-"

"I love it," she interrupted him, glaring at him in the mirror, "it's stunning."

Vince's cheeks burned and he fidgeted uncomfortably, as Wendy smoothed the necklace against her collarbones and opened a pleased smile.

"I really love it, Vin," she turned around to hug him by the waist and tilted her head back, opening a blinding smile, "thank you."

"You're not just saying that? Because its from a local jewelry shop, so you can definitely exchang-"

"I love it," she shook her head, squeezing him, "and it matches my dress."

Vince let out a scoff, biting down a burp as Wendy's head pressed to his upset stomach. He gulped down, keeping a hand in the middle of her naked back and breathing through the queasiness.

There was no way he was going to make it through the night without puking, Vin thought, as Wendy moved in his arms and planted a kiss to his tummy, pulling back.

"I'm just gonna do my make up and we can go," she said happily, putting on her heels and Vince forced a smile.

"Alright, I'm gonna wait in the living room."

The party was in the same rooftop Vince remembered being for Jonah's birthday, when Wendy had gotten sick due to a migraine. It was ironic she had picked it, given how horrible he was feeling.

Vince was practically wincing as Wendy intertwined their fingers together and pulled him as she checked with the staff everything was alright.

He was bouncing a leg nervously up and down and Wen let out a chuckle as she noticed that, "it's just our friends," she misinterpreted his nervousness, grabbing a champagne flute and pushing it in his hands, "you have nothing to be nervous about."

Vince offered her a strained smile, but that wasn't exactly true. Wendy was a social butterfly and he knew for a fact it was not a party just for Jonah, Luke, Bell and Leo. Half the hospital would be there, as well as all the girls she knew from yoga and from other courses. Barbie, Megan, whom Vince had met before, but they still made him nervous. Other people he had no idea how Wendy got acquainted with.

He wanted to die as the place started to fill up and his head continued to swim. Vince couldn't pay attention to anything that was being said, but thankfully his participation in small talk was all but optional.

He was feeling clammy all over as the little canapes started to circulate on top of trays.

Wendy squeezed his arm, "are you hungry?" she tilted her head to look at him and Vin promptly shook his head, almost stumbling back as it made the room spin.

Just the mere thought of putting anything in his stomach made more sickness splash up and he gulped down, "No-" his voice came out all hoarse and Vince cleared his throat, "no, I'm just warm. I'm gonna go outside for some air, okay?"

Wendy pouted slightly, "are you alright...?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," Vince squeezed her hand in his, "talk with your friends, I'm just gonna get some air and I'll be back," he promised and she opened a bright smile, turning around and squealing as she caught sight of Jonah entering the room.

Vince turned around and bolted.

It was not lost on him that once upon a time he had found Wendy hunched over the same rail. He pressed his tummy to the iron rail and forced up a sick burp, but nothing came up with it.

Vince groaned, squeezing the metal and feeling like he was about to collapse. His legs were shaking and he couldn't stop swallowing down, his mouth pooling with saliva.

Another burp snuck up on him and Vin whimpered, feeling his eyes sting. He hated this, he wanted to be having fun with Wendy, not almost ruining her party.

A hand came to rest on his back and Vince shuddered, knowing who it was without even looking back, "fucking kill me, Luke."

"What's wrong?" Luke's voice was impossibly soft and Vince tipped to the side, leaning against his best friend's chest. He was freezing, he wanted all warmth he could get.

"Stomach flu..." Vince groaned as his stomach flipped again, "gonna be sick..."

"Okay, think you can make it inside? To the bathroom?" Luke squeezed his nape, rolling his thumb in a comforting manner. Vin took in a deep breath.

"Don't-" he gulped down as a gag interrupted him, "don't want Wendy to see me-"

"Buddy, the chances of her seeing you here are way higher," Luke squeezed him a little tighter, "lean on me, okay? We're gonna speed walk."

"M'kay," Vince slumped almost completely and heard Lucas let out a little huff at his weight, but he didn't let go. He was so dizzy, he didn't actually see a thing as they moved back inside the restaurant area, only heard the noise escalate and then get low once more, as Luke pushed him inside the bathroom.

Vince stumbled, bracing against the sink and Lucas let out a sigh, "c'mere," he wrapped an arm around Vin's chest, steering him towards the toilet and Vince immediately fell to his knees, leaning over the bowl and panting.

His stomach hurt with how much it was churning and finally he let out a weak gag and felt everything he had eaten since morning rush up his throat.

Vince groaned as the sheer amount seemed to suffocate him, coughing and groaning as it stung his nose. He spat in the bowl, blindly reaching to flush it, but his arms were too shaky and that almost caused his chin to hit the porcelain, wasn't it for Luke wrapping an arm around his chest.

"I got you, I got you," Lucas reassured him, before flushing the toilet, "done?"

"Nu-uh," Vince gagged, spitting once again. He had never felt so nauseous in his life, what the hell was this bug?

"Jesus, dude..." Luke groaned when Vince let out another gurgly burp, which quickly morphed into a violent heave and even more puke rushed up and splattered in the bowl.

Lucas moved so he was crouching practically next to him, planting a hand on Vince's forehead and keeping him from taking a dive in the toilet as the heaves continued to rock him. He cringed as he could feel the crazy heat under his palm, it was shocking Vince had been able to play off as healthy for so long with a fever like this.

"Okay, okay, big breath," Luke rubbed his back as Vin let out a whimper and swayed on the spot, bracing against the stall wall and causing the entire thich plastic structure that separated the cubicles to tremble.

"Fuck," Vince breathed out, squeezing his eyes and massaging his chest. His hands were trembling and tears had run down his cheek, he also looked terribly pale, "this isn't a stomach bug, it's some plague."

"It looks like it, yeah," Lucas flushed the toilet again, grabbing a bunch of toilet paper and passing it to Vince, "you good?"

"For now..." Vince wiped his mouth, blowing his nose, "but my stomach is still churning and I feel like I'm gonna shit my pants."

Luke wrinkled his nose in distaste, getting up from the floor, "you need to go home-"

"I can't go to Wendy's, it's her birthday," Vince whined, "I'm not gonna ruin her night-"

"No, you're coming to my place," Luke rolled his eyes, "can you just sit there and not die? I'm gonna let Bell know-"

"Oh god, Bella-" Vince groaned, curling up as much as he could in the small space and Lucas let out a sigh.

"Just don't die, alright? I'll see if she can go home with Wen and you come with me- Don't die," then he turned around and ran out of the bathroom.

Vince sighed, leaning his head back against the hard plastic and trying to find any strength to get up and wash his face. He hated himself for going anywhere close Daniels last week.

There was a gurgle through his stomach and Vince squeezed his belly, breaking in cold sweat. He let out a sickly little burp, getting on all fours and struggling force himself up, swaying so much he nearly smashed his head against the stall wall.

Vince fell down on the toilet, tugging on his social pants and clumsily reaching for the door and locking it, before managing to push down his pants just in time for the runs to hit him.

He wrapped both arms around his tummy, pressing his eyes closed and sniffling pitifully. The cramps were killing him and to make matters worse he was starting to feel nauseous all over again, the curled up position forcing up sickly little burps.

Vince gulped down, breathing slowly through his mouth as the woozy sensation only seemed to get worse. Then there was a knock on the door and his head snapped up, colorful little spots dancing on the corner of his sight.

"Occupied!"

"Vin, it's me," Luke said and he could've cried. In fact, judging by the way his throat was hurting and he could feel his eyes burning, he was pretty sure he was.

"Gimme- Give me a minute..." he groaned, "just wait."

"Okay, yeah, no problem," Lucas said hurriedly and Vince assumed he probably could hear the pleading in his voice, since he didn't fight him.

Vince wiped the cold sweat from his brow once again, taking slow measured breaths as he cleaned up and then got out of the stall, stumbling to the sink in order to wash his hands and his face.

He looked dreadful. Vince made a little pray that Wendy was across the rooftop and didn't get a glimpse at him, because he looked pretty close to a corpse.

He dried the cold water from his face, before all but collapsing against the bathroom's main door, pressing his forehead to it, "Luke."

"Yeah?" Lucas' voice was very clear, as if he was glued to the door and Vince thanked his stars for that.

"I think I'm gonna faint..." his lips felt numb, this wasn't good. The second the weak words made out of his mouth, the door opened. Just in time, because Vince's knees buckled and Luca caught him by the armpits, letting out a grunt as he almost went down with Vin.

"Christ, Vin-" Luke's hand pushed his hair back, patting his cheek, "hey man, I need you to help me here or I'm gonna drag your ass to the hospital."

Vince shook his head, angrily forcing his eyes open and trying to think through the fog, "Wendy-"

He jumped as there was a loud noise, followed by squeals, just outside the private hallway that led to the bathrooms. Luke stiffened his hold around him, only to let out a nervous chuckle.

"It's Jon's fireworks. We should go."

"Uhmm," Vince nodded, grabbing on Luke's arm, "I'm gonna hurl on you."

"I know," Lucas forced him up, voice all strained, "but outside of here, deal?"

"Deal," Vince almost chuckled, pressing his feverish forehead to Luke's shoulder and allowing him to rush them out of the fancy restaurant.

[danisha-tdh]

A lot of things I got dragged into sploon, no matter how I enjoying Salmon run (because teamwork and fun day)

So I decided to draw the content

Here's line up agent in my design looks-

Just for the toon style looks, so here's a hcs for each agents:

(Long words)

Trapper, 22 y/o [Species: Octoling??]

Trapper is not just an octoling, he was used to be one of the Kamabo experiment no.5150. Because he was saved by her adoptive mother, Ellie, he always have to hide his identity in the event of Splatoon 1. He doesn't know much about Dj Octavio and the Octarians clan, but he seems interested until the event of Splatoon 3. He doesn't talk, but he can use sign language (it's a sign that he's mute as always and it's because his voice is very likely to human languages and has no bubble effects in it like the other octolings. He's not an only child he was raised by her own mother, he has a sister, Veronika. He doesn't trust the Kamabo or Commander Tartar. He has a strong relationship with Four, but now he miss her (since they became separated and getting worried about her). And also, he's a gardener.

Veronika, 14(splat 3) - 16(now) y/o [Inkling]

She's a little feral and always care for his older brother. Never been join Grizzco industries because her little salmon buddy is afraid of the boss himself. She's a huge fan of Pearl from the Off the Hook. She interested any type of weapons and a mechanic engineer. Being forced to washed herself, since she's smell like fishes belongs in the sea. She's also a best friend of Murch. If you mess with Trapper, you mess with her (she'll forced you to drop yourself in the sea as an threat or eats gross food).

Agent/Captain 3 [No name], 21 y/o [Inkling]

Has slowly lost their original name and gender. Became tired and depressed because of the Octo expansion event, but still smiles when think about the past what they used to. They like Naomi as a close friend. rarely talks and type of introvert person. Doesn't want to talk about Deepsea Metro (they have PTSD). They can rap since they known as DJ Sango. Get along with the Squid sisters, even they stay as their part of the family. Always support other Agents no matter what and only the mysterious agent among others.

Surume/Four, 23 y/o [Inkling]

A great agent who always very positive and an extrovert person. She always like Trapper, who are very close to her (both always think about each other since they were separated from different city). She was busy due to an extracurricular, and a roommates with Hachi and Naomi. Four really care about Trapper's feeling for her if he's not in a good mood. She loves biology to know about sea creatures and even mammals, including plants. She's shorter than other agents.

Hachi/Eight, 21 y/o [Octoling]

An agent who is only one was escaped from the Deepsea Metro with his sister, Naomi. He doesn't get recover his traumatic experience back there, but always finds a way to avoid it. Kind to anyone, likes other agents. He doesn't know about Trapper, but he interested to meet him. Confidence to find answers. He's afraid of C.Q Cumber. When he's stares at you, it can tell he looks like a little puppy. He and Naomi lives with the Off the Hook as like their parent figure. Always protect his sister.

Naomi/Eight, 19 y/o [Octoling]

She's a bit shy and a fan of the Squid sisters after the effects of the Calamari Inkatation. She likes Cap 3 about their skills and being cool. She's barely talks, but always needs a help from her brother. She kinda loves the beautiful view around the new city or places she wants to travel. She's having a fear of Blender and being lonely without her brother or someone. She likes doing art and doodles on her sketch she bought in the surface. She always sticks with her brother since she doesn't want to get separated. And a friend of Four.

Welp that's all the hcs I have for my agents. Most of them are similar the canon splatoon facts. And here's the base of the body type looks

And bonus for Trapper in agent outfit:

[hedgehogoftime]

Teenage Exocolonist Kids: How would they be as Jedi?

Sol: Our nonbinary icon is THE Jedi, especially after Transcendence. Goes on a long multi-lifetime journey to learn to accept there are things they cannot change and tragedies they cannot avoid is PEAK Jedi story. Definetly Master/Councilor material

Tangent/Tang: Eh, Tangent would probably not be a very good Jedi when it comes to active duty. She struggles with empathy which is a core Jedi value, but I think Jedi training would help her come to terms with her identity in a very helpful way. Definitely a more "stays at the Temple and researches/debates" type Jedi than one who goes out on active field work.

Cal/Recalcitrance: My gentle, plant-loving pacifist husband is PRIME Jedi material! Definitely head of the AgriCorps and teaches the younglings about cool plants from across the Galaxy on his off days. Man is literally great for the role of a Jedi. He's a Master, but probably not on the Council as he has no patience for politics.

Nem/Anemone: Eh... I do not think Nem would be a very good Jedi. Too angry, too attached to the memories of her loved ones. Relaly I see her more as a nat-born soldier or a light-aligned Bounty Hunter who works with the Jedi, but doesn't really get them. Not to say she's bad, but if she were trained as a Jedi she'd probably Fall at some point. However, I do think she'd make her way back to the Light eventually, with help. But, I don't see my girl as a very good Jedi.

Dys/Dysthymia: Dys would be a good Jedi... but only in certain circumstances. Definitely a Jedi Shadow, but with how he fails to get along with others I can't see him doing traditional Jedi things. However, he does have an instinctive knowledge of letting go. But, I do see his inability to feel fear as a detriment. Jedi train to overcome their fear and at in spite of it, but since Dys can't feel fear, i feel he would be missing a key piece of Jedi education. Not good.

Marz/Marzipan: Marz, actually would be a GREAT Jedi! Granted, not a very conventional one, with her love of the spotlight and drive to succeed, I see her as the Jedi's Liason to the Senate, as one of the few of the Order with a head for Politics. This lady would have the Senate and the Media eating out of her hand, giving the Jedi a sterling reputation. While she struggles with passion in some cases, I think she could easily overcome it!

Tammy/Aspartame: Did someone say Creche MasteR? Because this lovely lady is a Creche-Master! She would not only be great at caring for the Younglings, she's treasure every moment of working with them and readying them for the journeys ahead. And is Definetly secretly a Master and a badass, she actively chooses not to kick people's asses. Peace and love, baby.

Vace/Olivaceous: Not a good Jedi. At all. Too proud, too full of ambition and vainglory to hack it as one of the Servants of the Republic. Probably a Mandalorian, honestly, and a neutrally aligned one. If he were to become a Jedi he would fall. Period. He's too much like Anakin, too focused on his own glory and power to understand the Jedi Way.

Nomi-Nomi/Nomination: I'm...honestly at a loss, here. I think Nomi would make a very... weird Jedi? But a good one, probably? They're definitely kind and compassionate enough to be a Jedi, but they struggle with attachment so... probably a mid-ranked Knight who's a Smash Hit with the Younglings. Probably the first Jedi Twitch Streamer.

Rex/Basorexia: Honestly? Rex'd be a good Jedi. No in-depth explanations here, just vibes. Definitely Jedi material

[kaeyapilled]

What are some fics that you think are must reads for kaeya fans?

TEEHEE okay i think i have rec'd most of these before when i was asked for fic recs some time ago but its ok. here are the most kaeya fics ever in my opinion !

clouds in a lake by VelleRue

“Pot of butter,” Kaeya mumbles beneath his breath, eyes roving over the words. Alone, the words wouldn’t be very special. The shapes and sounds don’t scare him as much anymore, not like they did when he was new and wore shoes with torn soles and only knew how to say, My father told me he was going to buy grape juice.

Together though, they sound like the orange-yellow light of the oil lamp flickering in the corner. They sound like sticky fingers and bread rolls. Like a dinner table of three.

Cake and a pot of butter.

this one is so bittersweet and melancholic and i love all the headcanons in it and the way it's written oughhh it's a great read!! short but really good

stubborn roots by alexithymias

Kaeya’s plan to end his life is interrupted when Rosaria asks him to take care of a plant for a few days.

this one is heavier so definitely pay attention to the tags but, oh my god. this rewired my brain SO violently. i adore the concept and the characterization is really on point. it is so painful in all the good ways i like stories to be painful. i really recommend it!!

I'm gonna miss your love when it's gone by imaginarypasta

A selection of scenes from Kaeya's childhood related to his relationships with his fathers, and all they have led him to be.

im pretty sure ive rec'd this before but this is like, one of my favorite portrayals of kaeya and his bio father ever. its just so good. so delightfully sad. a breath of fresh air from the common headcanon that his father was an evil asshole. the kaeya & crepus bits are also really good and i like the author's hcs about khaenri'ah/the abyss SO much

not bad for a walk on death's doorstep by b_attery

Fear is a knife’s edge. Fear is a killer. Fear is how you know you’re still alive. Kaeya Alberich, not yet Ragnvindr, knew how to fear before he knew how to talk. As the heir to the regency of a dead kingdom, a spy-in-training to be sent to the surface world, as the last hope of Khaenri’ah – there were many things to fear. And later, as the Cavalry Captain of Mondstadt and a traitor no matter what he chose, Kaeya Alberich ex-Ragnvindr knew that as long as he lived, he would be afraid.

i have definitely rec'd this one before. but i just really love it!!! my comment on the bookmark says "literally the best kaeya character study i have ever read" and yeah that still holds up. shaped a lot of my kaeya hcs. i love this author

Hundred-Watt Light by pepperjuice

The first time the thought occurs to Kaeya he is eleven years old. Well, that’s not exactly true. It had been twisting in the back of his head for a long time, already. Formless and unspoken, an ever-present awareness, a whisper. But the first time it rings in his head, put in words, bright and shiny and just behind his eyes—

He is eleven. *** A story about ten years of contingency plans and holding your own hand. (Because how else are you supposed to live with a weight too big to hold all alone?)

OH I MUST HAVE REC'D THIS LIKE THREE TIMES BUT THIS IS REALLY A MUST READ. first of all heed the tags because it touches quite heavy topics! but this entire concept is SO interesting to be explored in kaeya's character and this author does it SO well..... this is one of my favorite fics, like, ever, lmao. absolute kaeya must read To Me

Lamellae by scripturient

A slowish movement in a discordant key, wherein Kaeya has bitten off rather more than he can chew and needs significant help; meanwhile, malady exposes buried memory and dread. A limited plot from a limited point of view which dabbles in themes of pain, trust, angst, conflict, and betrayal. Not quite a character study.

the writing style in this one is SO cool, i love it! non-linear narratives are my thing, i never get tired of it. and the whump in this is so good.. i like whump fanfiction, lol. the combination of characters in this is really fun as well, though everything is told from kaeya's very disoriented point of view. anyway, amazing exploration of his character!! the next work in this series, The thaw that comes in springtime (plus the next next work!), is also really good and i loved it, particularly the ragbros bit lol. another must read!

undertow / oversight by MercuryPoisoning

In which Kaeya gets by with a little help from his friends.

another one i feel ive rec'd before, but i love it. really good characterization!! especially his relationship with diluc!!! really good read. i love this author's stuff a lot lol. (bonus by the same author, and another one i consider a must-read even though it's still in progress and also way heavier than most of the previous recs: sleeping marble lion! i really like the writing style and the concept!!! pay attention to the tags but trust me it's a delightfully gut wrenching one<3)

whew. i think i have a few more i could have added here. i just went through my bookmarks lol i have read a decent amount of kaeya fanfiction. hope these are to your liking!!! fic rec'ing is one of my favorite activities

[strrkie-art]

HCs with Kyoto kids No curses collage AU

warning! grammar issues

All Kyoto kids call Utahime Mom, everyone pronounces the address with a different intonation (last one was Noritoshi, he said it suddenly and quietly, which did not escape Yori's sensitive hearing)

In addition to movie nights, they all gather together in Nishimiya's room to play poker or mafia 'well, Mom, don't start, we're not going to be long at all, and this time we're not even planning to have a drunk!'

Kasumi finds it difficult to wake up in the morning when there is a lot of sun, so she chose a room with a window on the shadow side. Noritoshi's room is across the door of an empty room from her. I like to think that their dorm rooms are located exactly where the boundary between the male and female wings. Todo chose a corner back room with a sunny side because of the large windows on two walls. In the middle of the corridor next door are the rooms of Arata and Kokichi, both on the shadow side. Momo and Mai rooms, located at the end of the corridor opposite each other in light and shadow contrast, were also chosen because of the spacious windows and the importance of sunlight for Momo's plants All kyoto kids and besto friendo Yuuji chipped in for a full-scale cardboard stand with Takada for Todo's birthday. At first, Todo was very upset when the exclusive product on the site ran out in an instant and he so absurdly missed the opportunity to place an order (Todo growled, walked gloomier than a cloud while others silently watched the suffering of his soul for several days until his b-day)

Miwa and Mai have friends tattoos (this sun behind the cloud on Miwa's forearm, Mai has a cloud with rain in the same place). Nishimiya doesn't like idea of having a tattoo on her body, so Mai draws emoji with rainbow on her forearm with colored gel pens for photos every time)

Todo knows how to weave braids. Once he braided Kasumi's long hair into fishnet braids (popular in 2014). What if he had a free head for hairdressing experiments in the person of Yuki Tsukumo, I think it's funny enough

Arata loves hedgehogs, he throws videos with them to Nobara, even more often than some memes understandable only to him (Kugisaki with a satisfied smile pokes his finger at the phone screen in front of Megumi's face and says look, it's you when Yuuji is not around! But here when Yuuji is in your field of vision! Yuuji : Did someone call me?

Noritoshi likes to look at street cats. Miwa finds it endearing since she once had the opportunity to see Noritoshi sitting alone on a terrace in the backyard of their student dormitory, stroking an incredibly gentle cat on his lap. he looked relaxed. Miwa smiled. She had never seen him so serene and had simply left without daring to interrupt this comfortable moment for him

Mai failed in her attempt to upset Todo with the fact that Тakada-chan is a lesbian and nothing amorous shines for him with her, but he already knew this, and he is not in love with Тakada-chan, he just likes to watch her play out her positive image, inspiring her fans to believe in ourselves, whatever they were doing. Todo and Mai are the type of friends who often quarrel over absurd things, and not because of something serious

Todo wanted to bring Arata out on Takada's show (let him just read his favorite manga in peace), but this does not happen often, unless his best friend Yuuji is super busy, Mai spends time with girls, Kokichi and Noritoshi are reclusive together again and will never take part in it Girls get out somewhere together, it's always shopping malls, pavilions with vintage things, walking in parks on rented bicycles, not missing the opportunity to look into cozy coffee shops to warm up/cool off for seasonal drinks and desserts, trips to the ocean to wet feets in the water

Momo and Mai think Kokichi has Snow White's vibe, he has the same slightly curly dark hair and animals are also magnetized to him without fear, if this could be called a superpower Kokichi and Kasumi listen to true crime podcasts in the evenings in the shared kitchen and discuss them while cooking something for dinner on neighboring pans or discuss new ideas for a photo session with fake katana while Kokichi dyes Kasumi's hair and after a while there are still blue spots embedded in his skin on his hands

Kokichi calls Kasumi a Goddess with katana who does not believe in herself, but he believes in her, her caring hands and her bold ideas (Noritoshi shares this faith with him)

Next to Noritoshi, Kasumi no longer feels tension and fear as it was before. He turned out to be comfortable person and pleasantly cool as a fresh pillow before going to bed, so Kasumi, always warm as a wool sweater, often falls asleep on him, she likes the contrast of their body temperatures (for the first time she apologized for how awkward it was for her to doze off on his shoulder and slide her head into his lap in a dream, but Noritoshi did not express dissatisfaction and did not try to wake her up, being not against taking a nap himself). And she also likes to see his relaxed face in glasses when she wakes up

Noritoshi and Kokichi spend a lot of time together: they study, go on long walks, watch movies (they like to meticulously comment on scenes while watching and discuss what exactly the movie was shitty or vice versa good) and gamefilms (Noritoshi liked part 1 Last of us and Death stranding), they talk about everything and also silence does not cause discomfort (they are glad that Kasumi not only with them spending her free time)

When Noritoshi talks to Kasumi and sees her gaze fixed on nowhere, he calls her to once again indicate his presence and not scare her, asks if everything is okay, and, regardless of the answer, shortens the distance between them, lightly touches the top of her head with his long calloused fingers and soothingly strokes her head (he is not particularly strong in encouraging phrases), just in case, then clarifying whether the pressure of the palm was too strong. For the first time, she froze in the pose of a toy soldier and looked at him in surprise, and then smiled her little smile and lightly squeezed his wide palm so that he could understand with what force he did it, accompanying it with a brief comment 'Thank you and, uh, sorry, uh..It was like that, Kamo-kun'. Momo and Mai, watching this, were taken aback. Really? Noritoshi willingly tactilely interacts with another person? He did accidentally hit his head, or did the alien take control of his body? they pretended not to notice anything, although he was sure that no one saw this little gesture

At the evening gatherings of the girls, Momo does not get tired of theatrically sighing "how sad it is when the chicks grow up and fly away from the nest," and after that she firmly says if something happens, she is always ready to kick the ass of both guys if they somehow offend her dear friend Miwa Noritoshi makes little confessions to Kokichi about how thinks him fascinating. To which he hears once again a request to stop embarrassing him. They are both good at studying. And when Noritoshi asks about his personal methods of prolonging productivity, Kokichi insists that he join the introduction of rest into his daily routine, and not stay up until night without breaks, then he will no longer have to complain about headaches and poor sleep in the morning. Therefore, Kokichi and Kasumi go to Noritoshi to distract him from excessive study. Usually they look like impudent cats with honest eyes, carefully sit down on both sides next to him. 'Someone's smart head really needs a rest' gently whisper in ear. 'Hey, you're already asleep' low whisper in other ear. There is a lot of fatigue in Noritoshi's eyes, and, as always, he will grumble a little, sigh, slamming notebooks with notes and already pulling these two closer to him Kokichi appreciates Kasumi's willingness to keep up a conversation on a topic she doesn't really understand, or to start a monologue about how her day went, or on some topic of interest to her when he himself has exhausted his social battery and wants to be silent, calmly resting his chin on her shoulder or on the top of her head. He listens and listens to what she says, and then, after recharging, discusses with her everything he has heard before, and vice versa. No one is offended if one is silent and the other says

Noritoshi shared with Kasumi and Kokichi his indignation over his father's family, his bold dream to check out of the family registry an problems with emotions (I just adore my hc where Nori was adopted by Chosoyuki, his last name hasn't changed, but Noritoshi doesn't care, it's important that he has already stopped all interaction with his father) In the morning, Noritoshi and Kasumi practice yoga. Kasumi once tried to stand on her head, Noritoshi held her legs, repeating that he was nearby, holding her and she would not fall. And also Kas does not know how to relax in savasana, she fidgets, turns, puffs, sighs, does not know where to put her hands comfortably, it seems a little more and steam will come out of her ears like from a kettle 'You're very lively for a corpse pose. Don't suffer' Noritoshi spreads his arms invitingly to the sides. He knows that in a strong embrace Kasumi will be able to completely relax

Kokichi is trying to quit smoking because he smoke too much due to stress and the frequent purchase of cigarettes hits his wallet, and Nori doesn't like tobacco-flavored kisses. Kas also smoke, but only in two cases: sometimes she can smoke for company or when she is so nervous Kasumi understands aurally english and can speak it fluently. Thanks to foreign visitors in Kusakabe's bar, where she works, the conversational skill are not lost. When she talks to Mai and Momo, they can switch from japanese to english in kombini, which attracts the attention of other people. Also Kas helps Noritoshi with practice speaking, and when she sees that he is tired (Nori can't always recognize own fatigue), she habitually moves closer and murmured various english songs in his ear. The quality time spent with her calms his restless head before the next TOEIC exam. Todo underestimated how physically strong Kokichi turned out to be with his tall and skinny body

Todo: Why did they leave and didn't call us? May: Because they have a date, you idiot! Momo: Mai, we're actually going to go too Arata* holds out her phone to others to see* Guys look: [Miwa posted a photo in stories for friends] 'Sakura is so impossibly beautiful! I took my recluses out for a walk'

Mai and Momo have cottagecore picnic dates and go to the farm to pick strawberries and some pumpkins

Miwa has a good sense of style, in fact she doesn't have many clothes, all the outfits that she assemble look original and fresh every time, as if she really has a big wardrobe, she willingly helps Kokichi and Noritoshi assemble outfits from their existing clothes (they all have similar tastes). Arata turns to her for advice when she doesn't want to bother her big sister for nothing

Nishimiya plays the cello and she and Noritoshi play joint improvisations of cello and piano when there is time and mood

Mai sings well, just likes to be harmful at every opportunity when she is asked to sing something Noritoshi sneezes softly like a kitten (I've only heard twice in my life that people could sneeze like that, hehe it's an awesome sound)

Arata got Todo into dating sim games on behalf of a fem character Todo: Toxic bastard and you pretended to be a decent guy too! Arata: Are you already going through episode X? Nishimiya and Mai *look questioningly at Todo and look at Arata* Todo*nods and turns to the character of the game*: How many such bastards around you! But nothing, he won't do anything to us! Arata*shrugs*: I didn't know that dating sim would affect him so much

Kokichi and Arata play video games and read manga. Kokichi also helps to solve problems with his infinitely clogged internal phone memory

Kokichi in this house is the main one for fixing problems with electricity and gadgets Mai and Kokichi spend money on arcade machines and collectible capsule toys, which they then carefully store 'I see how you want to get this Mechamaru, you're just incinerating with your eyes, though your eyes aren't lasers huh. Here, take it for yourself, I already have one'

Noritoshi and Mai share an interest in surfing for them it is always a competition and a fun pastime

Mai carefully preserves about the storage of gifts (she has this in common with Kokichi), although she always grumbles "who needs these trinkets, except for the growing layers of dust on the shelves?!" Between the pages of the book lives herbarium of small bouquets that Nishimiya gave her, in a beautifully decorated cardboard box with sweets from Kas, she keeps their joint pictures from photo booths in shopping malls, shells found on the shore during their journey to the ocean, and in a cloth bag a pendant with a silver revolver from her sister (she unwraps and she holds the pendant in her hand for a long time when she feels, how terribly she misses Maki. 'Fool' she mutters without malice, squeezing the jewelry in fist harder. Momo in such episodes considers it best to leave her alone so that Mai does not hide and openly experienced this moment of sadness)

Nishimiya is a fan of american vintage clothes and hippie style jewelry, I can clearly imagine how as a child she dreamed of opening her own cute jewelry store

[cutiemochiii]

Flower Crown

My first “x reader” writing EVER (I usually don’t write in this style, I give a name to any OC I write about)

Based on a HC that Zenitsu is good at making flower crowns ;-;

In which a tired you is in the company of someone who understands.

————————————————————————

It was essential that you had someone to train you. Oyakata-sama reminded everyone of the rarity of having a Star Breather like you, just as it was rare to have a Sun Breather like Tanjiro. And so started the game of hot potato, tossing you around to each hashira.

Obanai, Sanemi, Muichiro, and Giyuu had refused outright, barely giving any explanation as to why. But it was expected of them; they weren’t exactly the best at giving instructions or working with others. Shinobu or Rengoku would’ve gladly taken you in, had they not had so many others to take care of. Gyomei simply terrified you; sure he was gentle, but you doubted you could keep up with his raw, unadulterated power. Mitsuri worried that her breathing technique was far too different from yours, and relied a lot more on strength than yours did.

And so there you were, stuck with the Sound Hashira and his lovely wives. As gentle and kind as they were, they were warriors, and expected a lot from you. They demanded speed, agility, accuracy. But after 3 hours of losing to a Hashira who became more and more aggravated with each strike you missed, and a few more hours barely dodging the nonstop attacks of his ninja wives, you felt yourself at your limit. The world was spinning, and spots danced in your vision.

But you kept your shaking feet planted, your pearly nichirin sword sparkling in your grasp. As if your swordsmith had waited for nightfall to pluck stars straight out of the night sky and carve them into the shape of your blade. “Again,” you rasped, throat aching from how hard you were breathing. Your hands had gone pale from gripping your sword to keep it from shaking.

Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma gave you small looks of concern. They were hesitating.

“Again,” you growled, frustration growing. You had to prove to them that you were strong enough for them, that you were worth training.

Tengen had taken a seat to the side to cool off, directing the session from afar. Even he stood, clapping his hands once. “Alright, I think it’s now time for some rest.” You shook your head.

“No, I can keep going.” Tengen laughed.

“I think you should stop before you collapse on us. That would be very unflashy. Besides,” he smiled at his wives. “It’s our turn to make a meal.” They blushed at the softness in Tengen’s voice as they walked away from where they had been training with you, and towards the house.

You remained standing, heartbeat drumming in your ears. You feared you would be unable to raise your arms again if you let them fall to your sides. And it was only the second day of being under their wing.

You could hear sounds of bickering and laughter from outside the Sound Hashira’s manor. They were familiar voices. It seemed Rengoku and his students had also come back from their training. They were here for the meal Tengen invited them to.

“Listen, I understand that stamina is an important part of demon slaying, but did he really have to make us run around the entire village twice?” It was Zenitsu’s complaining. He sounded louder; they were getting close to Tengen’s training yard.

You were still frozen in your spot, trying to force your body to ease out of its high intensity state before you could let yourself relax. Your muscles were cramped, and your heart rate would not slow, no matter how much you attempted to calm yourself down.

The three friends stepped into the yard, and they stopped short when they caught sight of you.

“Hey.” It was Zenitsu’s voice that cut through the silence. “Are you alright?”

The words hit you in a wave, causing your resolve to snap like a coiled spring. Before you could react, the edges of your vision began to fade as you felt your legs give out beneath you, sword slipping out of your grasp. Your body felt indescribably heavy, and you dropped forward.

But you didn’t hit the ground, firm hands catching your arms, face landing against a warm body and fast-paced heart. You could barely muster the strength to tilt your head up. The last thing you saw before your consciousness gave out were worried, sunset eyes.

~~~~

When you awoke, you realized you were tucked under a blanket, the group of people chattering quietly as they ate at the table not far from where you rested. Suma was the first to notice you had opened your eyes. She let out a small gasp.

“She’s awake!” She squeaked, the conversation stopping as they all looked at you with relieved expressions. You guessed their reactions were supposed to be comforting. But it only pushed you further into embarrassment, for being so incapable that everyone had to take care of you, had to worry for you.

“How long was I out?” You asked quietly. Tanjiro gave you a half smile. “A couple hours, as long as it took for the food to be prepared I believe.”

Hinatsuru smiled softly and scoot over to give you space by the table as you stood up. “Come, sit next to us.” Makio called out from beside her. Inosuke nodded with a wide grin.

“Yeah! The food is amazing!” His voice came out muffled, face stuffed with whatever Tengen and his wives had made.

You stared at the wall blankly.

“No, it’s alright. I’m not that hungry. Thank you.” Before anyone could object, you excused yourself and walked out into the training yard. Zenitsu silently watched you as you left.

~~~~

There was a back exit in Tengen’s manor, and you decided to slip out of it, leaning your back against the outer wall of the property. You stared up at the sky, the stars seeming to wink mockingly at you. Tears pricked your eyes.

How come you couldn’t be like them? Like Tanjiro, Inosuke, Zenitsu. Fighting through their fears and holding their own alongside Rengoku. You could barely stand straight after two days with Tengen. Maybe you weren’t deserving of your breathing technique.

“The sky is pretty tonight.” The gentle voice startled you, and you jerked your head in the direction of the sound. Wallowing in your own pity, you hadn’t noticed Zenitsu following you outside. He was also looking at the sky.

You wiped your tears against your sleeve. “What are you doing out here?” You muttered. Zenitsu finally looked at you, eyes muted.

“I brought you some food. You need it after passing out like that earlier. Trust me,” he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “I know all about it.”

You started trembling, reminded of the embarrassment of it all as you pulled your knees up to your chest and tucked your head away in your arms. Your soft sobs caused Zenitsu to flinch, speaking quickly.

“Oh I’m so sorry! If you don’t like the food it’s totally okay! I can- go grab some fruits or something if you want something lighter-” “I don’t deserve to be a Star Breather.” You whispered.

Zenitsu froze at your words. They echoed another voice he knew far too well. He kneeled down beside you. “You,” he pulled your arm away from your face. “Know that’s not true.” His face was serious, and it was the first time you had seen him look that way.

You looked up, blinking away any more tears. “Maybe I should stop using this breathing technique. I can’t keep up with any of you. I know Tengen hates me. I can see it in his eyes. All of them look at me with pity.” You finally forced yourself to face him.

“Even you.”

Zenitsu scoffed. “If you think what I feel for you is pity, then you’re awful at understanding others.” He frowned.

“I only feel frustrated. That you think you’re allowed to give up and play the victim, when we’re all fighting to keep up.” He slid down the wall to sit beside you.

“I never felt I was right with my Thunder Breathing either. I can still only use one form. There have been many times when I passed out from the sheer power behind Thunder Breathing. But when I had cried to gramps about all of it, he had asked me if I could see myself mastering a different technique.”

He paused for a second, staring at his hands. “And I realized that I couldn’t. One form or not, Thunder Breathing was the only one that felt as comfortable to me as my own skin.” Zenitsu laughed softly.

“When I told him that, he smacked me. Asked me why I was complaining then. He never let me quit. And I tried, many times. But he never stopped believing in me.” He smiled at the memories.

“Then I realized, the only thing that would help me become a better Thunder Breath wielder is to just, keep going. Because whether I like it or not, Thunder Breathing is mine.”

Zenitsu looked intently at you. “Just as Star Breathing is yours.” He paused. “And as long as that technique is the one that comes the easiest to you,” he smiled, sunset eyes glowing with determination. “I won’t let you quit either. You’ll always have me, and I will never stop believing in you.”

He had shocked you into silence. You merely stared at him, wide-eyed as he pulled something out of his orange kimono and handed it to you. “Here.”

His voice was soft, and you were staring at a beautiful pattern of flowers. A crown, consisting mostly of flowers the color of your eyes, and accented with speckles of others. “Did you-“ you looked at him with awe. “Did you make this?”

The seriousness from earlier vanished as he grinned sheepishly, nodding as his face turned pink. “Yeah. I wanted to give you something for working so hard with Tengen. And I’ve always loved crafts, so I made it during our break in training today.” Zenitsu carefully took it out of your hands, placing it on your head, arranging it to sit perfectly.

“There.” He grinned. “It looks perfect on you.” You felt your face heat up, looking at him with a grateful smile. With your sadness beginning to fade, you realized just how hungry you were.

“Zenitsu…” you began, smiling shyly. Zenitsu laughed.

“I know,” he responded, pushing the plate of food that was next to him towards you.

“Here, a plate of dinner from earlier.” He waved his hand toward the plate. “Now, eat. You’re our rare Star Breather after all.” You elbowed him playfully. Every bite of the meal was euphoric.

Zenitsu watched you eat with a soft smile.

Once you finished, you sighed, leaning back against the wall again. “Do you think we’ll ever be like the Hashira? You a Thunder Pillar, me a Star Pillar.” Zenitsu was quiet for a little bit.

“Yeah,” he finally spoke. “I think we will.”

It was all you needed to hear as you leaned your head against his shoulder, both of you watching the sky in a comfortable silence.

————————————————————————

Author’s Note: AHHHHHH ZENITSU! I love him so much fr. ;-; I’m so glad that my first “x reader” piece was for him. I saw this hc that Zenitsu was good at flower crowns and just HAD to write it. This one is my first writing in this form, and it might seem a bit rough, but please keep giving me the opportunity to write for y’all! Thank you. As I practice, it’ll improve for sure. For now though, I hope you enjoyed!

[royaltysuite]

The Tales Of Lady Baccara and The Straw Hat Pirates

Chapter One: The First Encounter

Summary: After the events of the liberation of Drumm Kingdom, Y/n reveals herself to the Straw Hats as Chopper’s older sister. However, the reunion is short-lived as she is now interrogated by Luffy and his Straw Hat crew.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, did ya miss me, Chopper?” Y/n asked, holding back the urge to wrap her arms around her little sibling. “Y/n, is that really you?!” Chopper shouted in disbelief. The sight of it was a bit hilarious to the surrounding people in the room. “Of course it’s me. I’ve just been hidden in your shadow the entire time and made sure that you were safe and happy. Even when you were living with the crazy lunatic, Dr.Kureha.” “Wow, that’s amazing…” chimed in Nami’s voice from the background. “Oh, I’m so rude. Sorry for intruding upon your ship. My name is Y/n Baccara, a wolf-woman from the depths of the woods in Drumm Kingdom. It’s a pleasure to meet you all. If it hasn’t already been clear from what Chopper said, I am his sister.” Y/n explained.

“But, you’re not a deer though? So how could you possibly be siblings?” The swordsman spoke as he made his way around Y/n. “It’s quite simple, you see. He’s my found family. I was once alone and abandoned by my people. They believed that embracing their wolf self was the way nature intended for us, but I was against it. I didn’t want to be seen as a monster to the humans I saved, but they didn’t care. So, they left me to die in an abandoned quarry after a hunt. It was almost a full week until Chopper found me and took me to Dr.Kureha’s. Since then, we formed a bond as siblings even if we weren’t together physically.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet! Chopper, why didn’t you tell us this? Also, stop staring at her like she’s a freak, idiot mosshead!” Nami pointed out. “It never came to mind. All I know is that I’m glad you were always by my side, big sis…” “I’ll always be there, Chopper, no matter what…”

The moment was enough to dispel any form of suspicion from the crew, They then went on to explain to Y/n the plans to bring Vivi back to Alabasta Kingdom in order to stop the war that’s bound to happen between the Royal Army and the Rebel Army. “That is devastating to hear, Vivi. If you would like, I could help by contacting this Pell you speak of. He has the ability to shift into an eagle, right?” “Yes, that’s right. But, could you reach him from such a long distance?” “Not exactly, I’d have to be within a wide enough vicinity around him without drawing suspicion from other citizens. After all, he could take me as a part of the rebel army.”

“That is true, but other than that?” Usopp inquired, very wary of the plan. “I could possess him and plant any message you’d like me to leave.” Y/n answered calmly, as if it was a normal situation. “POSSESS?!!” Everyone shouted. “That’s so cool! Can you possess me, too?!” Luffy bellowed loudly with excitement before being smacked upside the head by Sanji. “It doesn’t work that way. I can only possess animals, not humans, ya silly goose.” Y/n chuckled, booping Luffy on the nose with a small smile. The action made his face tinge a light red before he went back to laughing. “Anyways, guys, the plan when we reach Alabasta - find and stop the REAL culprit behind this civil war before Alabasta crumbles to nothing. Alright?!” Nami yelled, the sound of the rest of the crew’s cheers echoed loudly into the night as the Going Merry sailed through the night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days on the sea were full of excitement. I never thought that being around other people would start to heal, especially after reuniting with Chopper. All the time that I spent with Chopper in his mind, I could feel the never-ending anxiety that he had. All the fear of being rejected by outsiders that didn’t understand him. It all hit me like a harsh wave and I wanted nothing more than to just leap out of his mind and comfort him. But, I knew that it was going to be an important step in him becoming more confident in himself.

“Sis, is everything okay? I was calling for you, but you seemed distracted.” “Oh, Tony, I didn’t see ya there. What’s going on?” I replied, shaking myself out of my daze. “I was trying to let you know that we’re approaching Alabasta now and we’re going to a city called Nanohana to restock on supplies. Did you want to come along?” “Sure, sounds interesting. Hmm, maybe they’ll have some smoked fruits…” I mumbled as we made our way off the ship towards the rest of the crew. 

As we made plans to grab only essential supplies while in Nanohana, things quickly took a turn as Luffy had run off. “Luffy, wait!” I hollered, quickly making chase behind him. Soon enough, I caught up to him and saw him sitting at a bar next to an open space in the wall. “Luffy, why didn’t you wait for us?” I sighed, trying to catch my breath before sitting next to him. “I’m hungry. Hey, old man, gimme food. Gimme, gimme, gimme food.” He chanted, clearly food being the only thing on his mind. “Sorry if he disturbed anything, if we could get one of everything on your menu along with some smoked fruit on the side please.” I told the barman, who was still in shock at the scene in front of him. 

It was quite hilarious to see just how simple-minded Luffy was sometimes. “Adorable…” I whispered to myself as I rested my arm on top of the bar counter. Once the food hit the counter in front of Luffy, he immediately began inhaling almost everything in sight. The sight was something out of the ordinary to the bystanders in the bar. As Luffy kept eating, the sound of moving rubble had my ears perking up in alert. I slid off of my seat and took a couple of steps to the side to stand in front of the giant hole in the wall.

The pile of rubble began to move and out popped a large man in a puffer coat. He then stood to his feet and shook off the dust before turning around. Both him and I made eye contact with one another then he began stomping in my directions. “Just who is this guy?” I muttered, tilting my head in confusion. As he got closer and closer to where Luffy was sitting, I stepped to the side. It seemed like he had some unfinished business with Luffy who continued devouring food. Puffer coat guy halted in his steps and he addressed Luffy, who blatantly ignored him until the guy shouted loudly in his face. Luffy took a pause in his meal as the dots began to connect in his head and he recognized the guy. 

“Oh crap, it’s Smoker…” Luffy gulped, a nervous sweat drop beading up on his forehead. Luffy then grabbed up the rest of the food and shoved in his mouth. He then grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me out into the street. The action startled me and I stumbled a bit before catching my footing. “Uhh, Luffy, why are we running away?” I shouted, trying to figure out what was going on. “Is he an enemy or something?” “I guess you could uh… say that.” The answer made me deadpan a little, but it didn’t matter. Right now, we need to get out of here quickly before the Marines catch wind of us being here.

[tjmystic]

Before I say anything else, let me be clear that I support trans, nonbinary, and otherwise queer people. I support and want to validate the ways that they choose to present themselves and the things they need to make themselves feel like humans instead of weird dolls that someone slapped a gender onto arbitrarily. This is not a TERF post, I'm not interested in anything TERFs have to say.

Now, with that out of the way, I'm going to do a "woe is me, poor little privileged person" thing, and I'm well aware that it's going to sound dumb, but this blog is basically a virtual diary at this point, and, if you followed me, you signed up to sneak into my room with little flashlights and creep through the pages.

It is SO difficult to hold so-called "normal" or mainstream identities when, in large part, you don't want to have a community with any of the people who also hold such identities. And not just because of them. It's also because of people who are deemed transversive or abnormal. I recognize that this is a purely online problem and that most people who don't match the norm have to hide themselves away in fear lest they be attacked, but I'm not really interested in meeting or doing things with anyone in person, so virtual interaction is what I do. And because I reject everything fascist, white supremacist, evangelical, and misogynistic, most of my curated online experience is very queer. Usually, that's great. I'm not queer myself, but I usually feel like I have more in common with queer people than I do with other cis straights.

But not always.

Here's an example. I get that a lot of people hate the gender binary and find it oppressive. I completely agree that arbitrary gender roles are stupid. I also understand that gender isn't completely binary because, otherwise, nonbinary and agender people wouldn't exist. But people lose me when they say they want to abolish gender entirely. I am a woman and I like being a woman and I have always identified as either a girl or a woman. (Discounting one day when I was 4 and tried drawing hair on my chest with my mom's mascara because I COMPLETELY missed the point of Mulan and thought it meant you couldn't do cool stuff if you were or looked like a girl. My mom clarified things for me.) Taking that away from me would be taking away a big part of who I am and how I define myself. I don't even like the idea of anyone ever asking me about my pronouns, because the idea that someone couldn't be able to tell at first glance that I'm a woman makes me feel gross. Not because being anything besides a woman is gross, but because me being seen as anything other than what I am is. I already feel unsexy and ugly and unattractive on a daily basis, being mistaken for anything but a woman would just make that even worse.

On a similar note, I'm a monogamous person. I like the idea that other people have so much love to give that they don't want to be confined to a single romantic pairing. Sometimes. But, most of the time, hearing people openly describe their relationship goals with terms like, "I don't want to limit myself to one person" and, "It's stupid to think that one person can fulfill all of your emotional needs" is deeply depressing for me. It plants that seed of reminder that even people I think I have a kinship with would never think I'm enough in a relationship, that they would eventually get bored of me and want more because I just can't do it for them on my own. That is devastating to me.

Final example: I'm Christian. Literally no one needs me to explain why Christians are pretty much always the bad guys. Even I have a tendency to cringe away from or otherwise dismiss anyone who calls themselves Christian or talks about Jesus because I know the behaviors and attitudes associated with my religion. But it's still my religion. And seeing people call all religions cults, say we should do away with religion entirely, or claim that religion is the main source of people wanting to murder each other makes me want to bash my head against a wall.

But it doesn't feel like there's an alternative. I'm not talking to people who want to oppress or even murder trans and other queer people. I'm not participating in anything with people who think that enforced monogamy is a good thing. I don't actually see any kinship between myself and predominantly white nationalists who use Jesus as an excuse to do whatever the fuck they want. But it sometimes feels like the only alternative to that is being stuck in a weird "other" box.

I'm not expecting a reward for doing the bare minimum of rejecting the stupid and cruel parts of society. I'm not comparing my "struggle" or whatever to the genuine fear of assault and death that queer people have to deal with on a daily basis. It would just be nice if there was any kind of community that doesn't want to kill or hurt people but is also cool with liking some of the societal constructs we've been born with.

[bluskye-27]

Hey Skye!!! Happy to hear that you are feeling good!! (I’m the anon who asked for Marco, Sabo, Zoro and Ace with a shy S/O) I just loved it so much!! Thank you so much again for doing it!!!

Sooooo…I have another request, if it’s possible could you please do headcannons on Zoro, Law and Sabo (as last time add someone you like if you want) on how they would react if one day s/o finds a childhood friend wile out with them on an island and they notice that this childhood friend has a crush on s/o, even after s/o presents them as the boyfriend, the childhood friend continues to flirt (but not enough for s/o to catch it but for the op boys to understand)??

Thank you so much!!

~✨

Zoro, Law, Sabo & Ace reacts to Fem! S/O's Flirty Childhood Friend

Summary: You and your boyfriend were on a date on a new island when you guys ran into your childhood friend, who's very flirty, I might add.

It was a nice day for new adventures. You and your crew recently docked at this beautiful island surrounded by different plants and flowers. It was called Flora Island, a Spring Island in the New World.

You and your boyfriend decided to go together to explore the island, holding hands as you excitedly pointed at the things that fascinate you while he smiles at you lovingly. Suddenly, a gasp made the both of you turned to the source.

"Y/N! IS THAT REALLY YOU???" The person laughed as they hugs you tightly, confusing you and your boyfriend. "It's been years! How are you??" And that's when it click, you let out gasp of your own, looking at the person excitedly.

"CF/N!!" You squealed as you hugged them back, not noticing the red blush spreading across their face. But your boyfriend did and he's definitely not happy when your childhood friend started flirting with the oblivious you.

Roronoa Zoro:

- He's chill at first when the two of you chatted happily. He's smiling slightly at your excited state but that quickly turned upside down when CF/N whispered something into your ear that makes you blush.

- Zoro's face progressively turning sour as your stupid friend kept flirting with you right in front of him, your boyfriend.

- The nerve

- But he kept his cool, not wanting to ruin your reunion with your long lost friend.

- "Say, Y/n. I've been meaning to tell you this when we were kids but I didn't had the chance to. Would you like to be mine?" CF/N whispered huskily, taking your hand to kiss on your knuckles.

- You just chuckled nervously and was about to reply but-

- "Roronoa Zoro, Y/n's boyfriend. Nice to meet you." Zoro smirked, pulling your hand away from your friend's hold before intertwining it with his.

- CF/N paled immediately once they heard his name, ranting out a quick excuse before dashing off.

- "Bye, CF/N!" You called out to them before turning to your smug boyfriend.

- "What?" He asked but you just shook your head at him, sighing.

- "Jealous much?" "I-I'M NOT!"

- Zoro would have his arm around your shoulder the whole time, not letting you out of his sight. Not when your stupid friend tried to take you away from him before :<!

Trafalgar Law:

- Law looked at you two blankly as you and your friend chat, laughing occasionally at any mentioned funny past memories.

- He relaxed, knowing that you're in safe hands. But his brow twitched once he saw your friend put their arm around your shoulder.

- "How about I treat you to a dinner, hm?" CF/N smirked and tried to whisk you away but a bush was switched with you instead. They gasped.

- "I would like you to keep your hands to yourself if you still wanted to keep them." Law smirked, keeping his arm securely around your shoulder.

- CF/N trembled in fear before running away, screaming his head off.

- "Was that really necessary, Law?" You sighed.

- Law chuckled as the two of you continued on your date.

- "Yes, yes it was."

- It's pretty rare to see Law jealous so you never missed this opportunity to tease him, giggling at his cute reactions.

Sabo the Revolutionary:

- You two were actually in a vacation when you ran into CF/N. Currently, you were laughing nervously when they flirted with you.

- You looked at Sabo for help, who was smiling at the two of you the whole time.

- Yeah, he's smiling but his right hand was preparing to Dragon Claw the fuck out of your friend's skull.

- "So, Y/n! Wanna go on a date with me?"

- You smiled at them nervously and went to answer but Sabo beat you into it.

- "Actually, me and Y/n were currently on a date. So, if you don't mind." Sabo then gracefully pulled you into his arms and carried you bridal style. "We'll take our leave now." And then sashayed away with you in his arms.

- "Oh my gosh, Sabo." You mumbled out behind your hands which are currently hiding your flustered face from the world.

- Sabo, the ever-smug gremlin, swooped down and kissed your forehead.

- "Love you too~"

- Yeah, Sabo will not let anyone take his precious princess from him, ever.

Portgas D. Ace:

- Like a puppy wanting attention, Ace would be pouting at the two of you the whole time.

- He even crossed his arms like a kid throwing a tantrum too! XD

- At first, he would whine loudly to get your attention but you just shushed him so you and your friend can continue chatting.

- Ace was now kicking away pebbles while waiting for you to finish your reunion. He was so focused on counting the pebbles he kicked when CF/N dropped the bomb.

- "Y/n, I like you ever since we were kids. Are you willing to be my girlfriend?" CF/N smiled at you.

- OH HELL NO! Ace's head turned towards the two of you in a neck breaking speed, his once pouty expression turning into a scowling, jealous face.

- The freckled male would push you behind him as he stared down at CF/N intimidately.

- "Oi, who do you think you are?"

- CF/N scowled back at him for interrupting their confession. "Uh, Y/n's future lover?"

- Ace would laughed at them mockingly before giving them the deadliest glare he could ever make.

- "Listen here, punk. Not only you interrupted me and Y/n's date, and now you have the nerve to confess to my girlfriend right in front of my face? The fucking audacity."

- CF/N was now shaking in their shoes once they saw the 2nd Division Commander of WBP's infamous death glare. Who would have thought that the rumors about this was true?

- "I'M SO SORRY!" CF/N wailed as he ran off.

- Smiling triumphantly, Ace turned to you to hear your praise but he frowned once he saw the unamused stare you gave him.

- "Portgas D. Ace."

- Oh shit, he's screwed, Ace gulped.

Hello, Anon! Sorry for the late answer :(. Hope you like this one! I have fun with these HCs ngl ;).

Thank you so much for requesting!

[azure-steel]

So I watched AC again for like the billionth time a couple of days ago, and after an in-depth conversation with @ghostofnibelheim/ @roleplay-abiogenesis2 about it I've been thinking about it a whole lot since.

Like, I know the remnants are supposed to represent the difference facets to Sephiroth's personality;

Kadaj: Ruthless, cunning and vindictive. Incredibly intelligent making him the brains of the outfit.

Yazoo: quiet yet charming. Very attractive, Cool calm and eerily collected.

Loz: strong, tunnel visioned, immature, overly emotional and sensitive due to immaturity.

At least without looking it up that's what I get from their characters. They are all very extreme representations of everything that makes Sephiroth, well... Sephiroth.

But then there's Cloud whom they refer to as their "Big Brother" and "Black Sheep" even though his relationship with Jenova and Sephiroth as a whole is vastly different. Not a remnant as such, but a clone and the first and only largely successful one at that considering that it's stated in lore that Sephiroth's DNA cannot be replicated. But like, Cloud isn't a true clone as such, he's just been brutally tampered with to hold parts of Sephiroth/Jenova inside him which is where Sephiroth's obsession with him comes from.

Reunion is the mass joining of all of Jenova's parts to make the whole and Jen!Sephiroth needs the missing pieces Cloud harbours to make that whole. I mean I'm telling you what we already know, I'm just attempting to make it all make sense again in this rambling theory we have here.

Because the Remnants lack the ability to pinpoint where they need to look for Jenova's head in the movie. They know that's their goal, and they have the knowledge to know where to look for clues, but no direct attraction to the calamity's exact location where as Sephiroth did have this instinct about him, as does Cloud to a lesser degree. He knew what to do, and where to go, Jenova's goal etc. The remnants don't and rely on other sources to tell them their next step.

But it isn't until Kadaj gets a hold of Jenova's remaining cadaver that he's able to summon Sephiroth but... Is that really him? Or is this Jenova shape shifting again and showing Cloud what he fears and hates the most? (A bit like Stephen King's IT where the creature feeds on fear and and morphs into the things that you fear the most) or is Sephiroth and Jenova so interlinked now that there's no discernable difference anymore?

Because I always struggled with this part of the story. Crisis Core showed us that Sephiroth was actually a good man, with good morals. He didn't agree with his orders and actions but felt he had no control over them. Orders were orders and he'd been so heavily indoctrinated by ShinRa from a very young age to just do as he's told when he's told to do it.

It wasn't until Genesis literally sprouted a wing and flew away that he grasped the notion that being a free man was even a possibility and planted that seed. But even then, he just talked about "quitting" and getting away rather than destroying everything. He showed little to no signs of mental instability, only that he was desperately lonely and extremely unhappy in his situation.

Nibelheim happened so very suddenly. One minute he's of sound mind and the next he's utterly insane. The descent into that insanity was so incredibly short (where no one tried to help or even attempt to relate to his better nature of which he DID have one. You did Sephiroth so fucking dirty here, Squeenix...) that I feel we're lead to believe that he just gave up after finding out the truth which gave Jenova that chance, in Sephiroth's moment of weakness, to take over. I'm sorry, but ain't NO WAY this man, so calculated in his assumptions despite how sheltered he is would suddenly just be like I'M CETRA NOW LETS KILL EVERYTHING. It makes absolutely no sense.

But again, come AC we're again being forced fed the notion that Sephiroth is the one in control, that he's so intune with Jenova that he can continue to respawn and cause devestation because the planet can't digest him when he enters the lifestream...

... Apart from the fact that it actually CAN!

See, after the fight in AC, when Kadaj returns and is dying in Clouds arms, Aerith calls to him, and he is accepted into the flow of the lifestream, which tells me that the parts which make up the remnants are actually human, not alien. These extreme facets of Sephiroth are what made him HUMAN and NOT Jenova. That the two are so closely knitted together that the lifetream cannot split them apart on its own hense why Sephiroth is constantly being rejected by the lifestream, not just because he has a strong will to survive and exact Jenova's bidding, but also because his make up is so very complex, thus giving him this pseudo immortality as it were.

I mean, Angeal never came back, maybe that was a simple case of just not wanting to? I don't know at this point.

But my point is that I believe the remnants do not have Sephiroth's reunion instinct because their make up is wholly human, because Sephiroth was actually conceived naturally and birthed to a human mother despite being tampered with in the womb. But he was still a person before the hatred and the crazy and the remnants show us that.

[hyperfixation-or-death]

answer some or all I wanna know more about you 👁️👁️

Do you have freckles? 

 Do you drink tea or coffee? How do you take it? 

What was the last song you listened to? 

Do you sleep on your back, stomach or side? 

Do you sleep with a stuffed animal? 

Do you prefer drawing or writing? 

What’s your ideal number of blankets to sleep with? 

What’s your favorite band/artist? 

When is your birthday? 

How tall are you? 

What color are your eyes? 

Who are five (or more) people you want to hug right now? 

Fears? 

What’s your favorite color? 

What’s your favorite season? 

Want any tattoos? What of? 

Want any piercings? Where? 

Who is the last person you texted? 

Do you have a best friend? How long have you been friends? 

What/who do you miss? 

How was your day today? 

How much sleep did you get last night? 

Do you believe in aliens? 

When was the last time you cried? Why? 

What’s your favorite decade? 

What are some seemingly childish things you like? 

What’s your favorite book? Or just one you’ve read a few times? 

How are you, really? 

Does it take you a long time to make decisions? 

What are you looking forward to in the near future? 

What are you looking forward to in the distant future? 

If you could go anywhere right now, where would you go? 

Do you sleep with your door open or closed? 

What’s your favorite flower? 

Do you currently have a squish? 

Do you like your middle name? 

Do you prefer dogs or cats? 

Do you have any phobias? 

Do you stay up late?

Do you like the beach? Do you prefer it sunny or cloudy? 

What’s your favorite cartoon? 

Tag 5 of your favorite blogs

Do you have siblings? How many? 

Who was the last person you said “I love you” to? 

Is there anyone you would die for? 

What do you need when you’re sad? 

Have you memorized your phone number? 

Who’s someone you can trust with your life? 

What does your last text say? 

Wild Card. Any question, ask away. 

i'm answering all of them >:)

Not a lot, just three on one arm and two on the other, I think. The three are in a triangle shape though! (edit: i looked in the mirror; i have one on my collarbone that i forgot about.)

I like both, but I drink coffee way more often. I drink coffee with a slightly unreasonable amount of creamer. I like the green tea that's infused with peach flavor, and I drink it plain.

It was either Remember Them by Jorge Rivera-Herrans, or Glory and Gore by Lorde.

Either stomach or side, I don't remember.

I technically have several stuffed animals somewhere on my bed, but the main one that I sleep with is a very long stuffed cat, like a squishmallow, but long. She is excellent, I use her as a pillow a lot.

6. Writing!! I've been getting into drawing lately, too, but writing is my favorite thing on earth.

7. Just one large blanket, so it doesn't get tangled.

8. Probably the Crane Wives!

9. May 19th.

10. Short enough for my entire family to make short jokes at my expense, apparently.

11. Blue.

12. My queerplatonic bf. My little sister. This creature I dreamed about the other night that was a combo of a panther, dog, and bear and also loved me. My beloved mutual @ashclouds366 (hi <3). And you, I am metaphorically hugging you right at this very moment. >:)

13. When I was in first grade, I read the magic tree house book, High Tide In Hawaii; it was about a tsunami. Despite living in a landlocked state at the time, it freaked me out. To this day, the majority of my nightmares are about tsunamis, and I don't know why.

14. Green!! <3

15. Maybe fall? Either fall or winter; I like the cooler weather, and I feel like spring and summer don't have as many holidays as the colder months do. Also summer is the season of existential crises, and spring is the season of being bored and wishing it was either winter or summer.

16. I love tattoos in theory; in practice, I don't think I have a very good pain tolerance. But if that wasn't an issue, I think I'd get some kind of green plant that symbolized something cool. Or something with some kind of sun imagery, that would be neat.

17. Previous issue of pain tolerance, but if i could get an eyebrow piercing, I think that would solve literally all my problems. I love eyebrow piercings. They're awesome.

18. At the time of reading this, it was my family's group chat, but then I texted my sister a keysmash in all caps in response to some screenshot she sent me.

19. Well. I have anxiety around calling people my best friends, because what if it's a one-sided sentiment, or whatever. But if it weren't for that anxiety, I would say that a long distance friend of mine (who I am not naming in case she sees this) is probably my best friend. We've been friends since eighth grade. She's awesome. <3

20. The aforementioned friend, eating grilled cheese, not having a cold, and watching Parallels. (Technically, nothing's stopping me from watching Parallels right now, but I still haven't watched it in a while, so I miss it.)

21. Not too bad; I had a cold, I had some fun conversations, I fell asleep at one point and briefly forgot what day it was, and I had some pretty good pasta. Kind of all balanced out.

22. Not a lot; had to stay up past 1 AM writing a current events paper that I left to the last second.

23. When it comes to complex aliens, I feel like it could go either way, honestly. But I think that things like alien bacteria species or simple organisms like that definitely exist. I don't know a lot about aliens, though, so take that with a grain of salt.

24. I think it was last week? I was stressed about an essay, and I cry pretty easily.

25. I'm gonna pick the boring answer and say 2010's; I think there are good and bad things about all of history's decades, but since that one just finished up, it's all still fresh in the world's mind. Good things from the 2010's just off the top of my head: My dog was born, my little sister was born, Jorge Rivera-Herrans started working on Epic the musical, I met an incredible friend of mine, Into the Spiderverse came out, and I'm sure there's other good things I'm forgetting.

26. Oh, there's probably a lot. I've ended up absorbing a lot of what my younger siblings like. Can I admit that I saw the second paw patrol movie in theaters? My little brother is obsessed with paw patrol, so i've seen both the movies about a thousand times. and they're pretty good. as for kids' shows that i like, The Inbestigators is a fun show, and odd squad will never not be a cinematic masterpiece.

27. Ooh, probably a tie between When Did You See Her Last? (All The Wrong Questions, book 2) and Shouldn't You Be In School? (All The Wrong Questions, book 3). Haven't reread ATWQ in a while, but I love it, especially the two middle books in the series.

28. Emotionally? Doing great, I did a lot of fun stuff yesterday and I now feel socially fulfilled. Mentally? Kind of stressed, I have a huge paper due tonight that I still need to make an edit to. Physically? I'm on the tail end of a cold, so not as well as I could be.

29. Oh, absolutely. I was told just yesterday that I am the most indecisive person in existence, and I wholeheartedly agree with that sentiment. It's part of the reason it takes me so long to text people back.

30. I'm going to a concert for the first time this Thursday! Definitely looking forward to that.

31. Not sure how distant it would be, but I would love to take a creative writing class at some undetermined point in the future!

32. I would go to Texas, because I know people who live there that I would very much want to visit.

33. Closed, so that my dog doesn't sneak out to go wake up someone else in the middle of the night. Also, it keeps the cold air from escaping into the hallway, which is warmer.

34. Sunflowers!

35. short answer: yes. long answer: this is such a loaded question because i literally have an entire blog on another account dedicated to rambling about my love and appreciation and platonic pining/yearning for specific people. and i am resisting the urge to link to it because i know for a fact that one of the people i have rambled about on there follows me on this blog, and I will have you know that emotional vulnerability is Harder Than It Looks. but yeah, i get squishes a lot. people are so cool and nice and i love them all. <3

36. Kind of? It's pretty good for a middle name, I guess. I'm kind of neutral on it, since I don't hear it a lot. It's one syllable and it flows kind of nicely.

37. Extremely difficult question; I love them both. I only have a dog, though, so I might have to choose dogs out of loyalty to him. But in all honesty, I think I might love dogs and cats the exact same amount. They're both wonderful little creatures in completely different ways, y'know?

38. Nope.

39. Yes. I procrastinate on assignments a lot, and I'll have to do them the night before they're due, or I'll go on tumblr late at night. This past week, I've gotten very little sleep, and I'm definitely feeling the effects now.

40. I like the beach, it makes me kind of anxious at night, though. I like it sunny if I'm swimming, and cloudy if I'm just wandering around looking for shells.

41. Probably Ducktales 2017. Favorite episode is probably A Nightmare On Killmotor Hill. I also liked the Dragon Prince, but I haven't seen it in years, and I think I only made it a few episodes into season 3? So idk what any of the later seasons were like, but I really liked the parts of the show that I did watch.

42. Here's a few blogs + one of their main fandoms: @ven10 - very cool ASOUE posts. @aka-ar - very cool Parallels posts. @foxymc - very cool Ducktales posts. @ashclouds366 - very cool Ninjago posts. (also, if ocs count as a fandom, then also Incredibly Cool oc posts.) @platonic-moment-of-all-time - okay, this one's a tournament blog, but it's one i'm very invested in that (I think) is still waiting on submissions. Very cool tournament idea.

43. Yep! I'm the eldest of four. Two sisters, one brother.

44. My dad, I think the sentence was: "Okay, goodnight, love you!"

45. Depends on the circumstances; I would probably freeze up or have an anxiety attack if I was actually given the definite choice. There are a ton of people I'd definitely risk my life for without putting a lot of thought into it, but if it was a clear-cut situation where I knew for a fact one of us would die, I feel like I wouldn't be able to decide in time.

46. Physical contact and human interaction, without a doubt.

47. Yes.

48. Hm...tough question. I think I have different people who I would trust with different parts of my life. Like, depending on what my life was depending on, the person I would trust with it would probably change.

49. ...unfortunately, at the time I started writing this, the last text I sent was this:

(the context is that I have a cold, and I was annoying my family's groupchat with that information.)

50. Wildcard answer, uh. Well. I dreamed last night that I was in a timeloop. After I saved the person I was trying to save in the timeloop, I ran around yelling at everyone about how I solved the timeloop, no thanks to them. And then I stepped in mud while wearing socks, which was so annoying I almost woke up. But before I did, a limo rolled up and invited me to join some kind of organization due to the fact that I had time loop powers. Very interesting dream.

[genshinimpactfans]

Hi this is a request, ask by @reallyromealone thanks honestly and i'm gonna try my best to not make it cringe.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

This is a Childe x Male reader fluff

(Male reader) runs a bakery and Childe falls in love*

◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆

Childe x Male reader

◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆

You guys meet at your bakery, and he just happend to be passing by when he heard a karen yelling that her order was wrong.

(Y/N) didn't know what to tell the woman as she talk nonsens about her drink being wrong and to salty. Childe decide to take matters into his own hands and help while he has nothing to do.

Entering the bakery was like a dream, the sweet smell of cake, cookie, bread, cupcake and chocolat brownie dance to the people noses everytime they enter. The place was very well keep, the decoration being fake plants and flower à little bit everywhere but not to much.

Soft music playing making the place even more relaxing, this bakery was definitely a place to bring your lover for some relaxing time.

Childe got snap out of his thought as he heard something crash, the Lady had thrown her drink to the ground almost hitting (y/n) and burning him.

"Madame i'm gonna have to ask you to leave please" The boy said trying to speak while the woman was yelling, "NO i will NOT leave until you give me my money back" "Madame please lea-" "NO YOU LITTLE BRAT I WILL-".

" excuse me miss but i'm pretty sure he ask you to leave" Childe says saving (y/n) form talking "and who are you to give me orders!" " My name is Childe and i'm a harbinger and i'm not gonna ask you again Leave now" his voice going a little deeper.

In fear the woman leave in a hurry not wanting to be in trouble with the harbinger. "Thanks you so much sir what can i do for you" seeing the boy up close he was definitely breath taking.

"Um sir can i do something for you" snapping out of his bubble he responded "oh um yeah can i have a hot chocolat and a cookie please" "yes take a sit i'll be right back" smilling (y/n) went behind the counter and getting what the man ask for.

"Here you got a hot chocolat and a cookie" "thanks how much is it?" "Oh it's on the house sense you help me" "well can i ask your name?" " oh right i'm (y/n) happy to meet you" he said smilling "and you can call me Childe".

Smirking as the boy was going back to work he couldn't wait to talk to him often, making heart eyes at him he couldn't wait to kiss those lips.

☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇☆◇

So it fanilly done i'm happy i hope it turns out great or cool to people who are gonna read it.

Well have a goog day or night

Bye bye✨️

[elegyofthemoon]

log o7

• surprisingly knowing stuff for microbio that i didnt need to be lectured much and was kinda left to do my own business/finished early enough i can grab lunch

• being able to talk further to my friend about a writing project that i have on the backburner presently because i got a bad writers block about it but now i think i have an idea of where i wanna go

• getting a really stupid idea for a scene for said project and even getting a chance to write it

• being able to take a shuttle out of town (even if its just for classes. i miss driving around sm lmao)

• saw daffodils again :) also very pretty on sunny days like today. actually lots of them bc theyre planted all over the place here which is so nice!

• got to go home earlier than expected from the teaching :)

• GOT TO SEE A BUNCH OF BUGS.... I actually lowkey really love microbio tbh and I think it's cool (and terrifying. I had a huge fear of Everything when I first started learning about it), but getting to see each of the organisms face to face feels like being a little starstruck (which is kinda lame tbh but honestly it was so neat.), especially the parasites because they were a lot bigger than I would imagine them being!

• ngl walking around in the cold rain was nice. i mean it was really cold but it kinda felt freeing in a way. its nice

• i mean technically it didnt happen today but the little realization made me sorta happy. a lot of the times with friends i always worry about being really boring and tbh, from my perspective, i feel that i am. i dont really talk much and tend to be too anxious to do so. i dont speak my mind because i get way too nervous about how the other would accept it. that and sorta being told that i am boring/predictable a lot growing up made it hard to not think of myself any other way. (its kinda weird though bc i get told both ends of the spectrum where im either told im too boring OR im being too annoying so idk. cant win either way tbh). idk. its silly thinking about like two instances as of late that like i did something that was very predictable of me and still friends being fond of that bc thats just very 'me'. maybe its a silly thing to fixate on, but ig its kinda nice knowing that i dont have to try so hard to stand out/be different or whatever else. naturally, whatever i wind up doing, there'll be people who like me as i am, and i think thats a nice thing to hold onto

i forgot to add one more bc this was mostly written while i was on the shuttle back home and cooking dinner but it was also nice talking to my friend about some theories about hsr :] idk it got me excited to do so even though i dont have everything put together in my head alskdfjh

[cilly-the-writer]

SHADOWS OF SORCERY | Part 22 | “Shadow of Darkness” | 1,285 words  

Note: The final part! 

     Maybe Elora’s fears had been unfounded. 

     The Power Authority did not press very much about what happened. The investigation was quickly wrapped up, given that James Hemlock had confessed to everything and given that his abundance of magic cores further proved his guilt. A report was written up and Elora’s parents were to be released first thing in the morning. 

     They were brought to the school and as soon as their figures appeared through the path in the forest, Elora ran to them and her firelights tagged along right behind her. Beaming bright in the sunrise’s fiery glow.

     “Oh my—.” her mother got out just before Elora and her firelights bounded straight into them.

     “I knew you didn’t poison me!” Elora sobbed into her mother’s shoulder as they embraced her right back. She sank right into their warmth. It was like she was feeling all her “missing” at once—she felt all those days without them crashing together at the bottom of her throat. It was so pent up in her chest that she refused to let go for several more minutes.

     It took a lot of coaxing to get her to let go and believe they would not leave her.

     Imogene waited in the distance to catch up with them at the appropriate time. As soon as Elora had cried it all out and explained a few pieces of the story (she couldn’t tell them everything right now anyway), they all went to sit down around the school patio furniture outside the school’s residential building.

     Imogene conjured plates of food and they all ate and talked.

     It was the most wonderful morning that Elora had had in a long time. But after a long while, as they approached the afternoon, her parents insisted that she not miss her studies. They told her that they would not be going anywhere. They would come back to visit in the evening after they took a look around the house and made arrangements to settle back into society.

     Elora reluctantly let them go.

     She found it hard to study though. She flicked her pen around between her thumb and index finger, stopping to reread the passages where she kept getting distracted. She was too happy about her parents’ return to think about anything else.

     Until a knock came at the door.

     She went to open it and she found Charlotte standing there with a smile and a small red gift box in her hand.

     “I know you don’t really need it anymore—,” Charlotte said, “—but my father was able to get one and he said it was yours if you still wanted it.”

     She opened the box and a plant core glowed at the center. Vibrant like a marble with strokes of green leaves and petals of deep purple. Just like the Luminess core pictured in Imogene’s plant study books. 

     It was floating in a smaller box of purple light.

“He put it in a magic seal so you don’t actually have to claim it. I know—well, you know…”

     She was alluding to the poison core, suggesting that she wouldn’t be offended if Elora was skeptical. Elora held her breath and picked it up. If it was really a Luminess core… then she could feel its ambient magic.

     Her fingers cooled at its touch and the tension in her shoulders from (trying) to study faded with its magic. It was like a breath of fresh air. It was the real deal—a real Luminess core. Elora smiled and thanked Charlotte with a big hug.

     After they let go, Charlotte’s voice cracked as she went to speak again.

“There’s something else I wanted to tell you, Elora. I just—.” Charlotte moved to step inside her room and close the door. She cleared her throat to say it without sounding like she was going to cry. “I know… I know you’ve been hiding something. My father thinks he knows what it is, based on a report about some kid who was playing at one of the regional playgrounds… and I just want you to know that it’s okay. He won’t say anything.”

     Elora stared, having stopped breathing until Charlotte finished talking.

“I know that’s why you got close to me… It’s okay. You don’t have to be friends with me anymore. I won’t tell anyone. I know I’m very quiet and I’m not very fun to hang around with. I don’t want to be a burden or impos—.”

     “Charlotte!” Elora pulled her back in for another hug, squeezing even harder. “Don’t say that! You’re not a burden. You’re my friend!”

     “Really?” Charlotte’s voice broke as the tears streamed down her face.

     “Yes,” Elora pulled away to go seek out her tissue box and hold it out to her, “you’re my friend… and you can call me Flora.”

     Charlotte’s lips quivered as she dabbed a tissue around her eyes. She sniffled a little bit before she went on.

     “That’s pretty.”

     A soft smile grew on Flora’s face.

     Once Charlotte regained her composure, she had even more news to tell. She told Flora that her father had saved something from all of the cores that had gotten confiscated yesterday. He had gifted one of the magic cores to the Regents Academy of Magic and the Dreamer Club would receive special privileges to access it first.

     “What did he save?” Flora asked.

     Mr. Gallison had saved the magic preservation ability. Convincing the Power Authority of its usefulness, thanks to Charlotte’s intense ramblings about their search for such an ability.     

     The very next day, they went to the magic holding room where it was being kept.   

     The magic core floated above a pedestal, suspended in gravity as its light captivated like a glass moon, the deep violet glowing as they approached it. They had invited Jaelin along too. He fought the smile forming on his face as he set his hands on the glass around the pedestal.

     He stood there, recollecting everything he had learned from his grandfather about dreamer magic systems (from seals to magic networks and magic interfaces)—a gift he did not possess—and applying it to his developer magic. He formed a set of silver wristguards and they appeared over the glass; then he turned to Flora, explaining his design intention in extensive detail. Very. Extensive. Detail. Flora wasn’t sure when he was going to finally shut up.

     Eventually, he passed the wristguards off to her and Flora held them to the glass. Her purple casting magic glowed at her fingertips as she held onto the wristguards. Instilling them with her own casting magic.

     They didn't stick around the magic holding room for very long. They went straight to one of the magic practice rooms afterwards. It was time to test out their prototype.

     “Whoa!” Imogene held her arms out in front of herself, inspecting the detail of the wristguards’ floral embossings and smiling wide as she swung her arm out. A bright purple field appeared over the wristguard—about the size of a frisbee.

     With another motion, she whisked the energy disc across the room. Almost striking Kaden in the chest before he jumped back and it sliced halfway into the wall beside him instead.

     “Hey!” Kaden narrowed his eyes. “I’m not training with you if you can’t control that thing yet!”

     Imogene recoiled at her mistake.

     “Sorry!” 

     Charlotte and Jaelin hid their laughter off to the side, having expected some troubleshooting. But Flora didn’t hide the smile that cracked on her face. She couldn’t help but smile at the couple of firelights that went over to pester Kaden after that—weaving in and out around him until he lightened up a bit.

     Feeling her own thoughts drifting out of the shadows of darkness.