#RIGHT AFTER HIS GOLDEN GLOB

[kaiscumsock]

EVAN PETERS GOT A SAG NOMINATION

[sh1-n0bu]

𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 2: multiple orgasm with zhongli from genshin impact

warning: multiple orgasm, dragon biology so two cocks<3, dacryphillia, overstimulation, handjob

notes: is it weird when the blade fic is longer than this one?

“UUNGH—! mmph!! l-love.. love please! slower! c-can’t—nyyAAMP♡︎!“ shaking his head ‘no’ over and over again, the funeral parlor consultant who’s known and praised for being able to keep his cool at all times, pleads as he comes on your hand again.

beloved by others for always being so cool headed and yet here he was, thighs trembling as he tries to close his legs to spare himself from this continued torture. it felt good at the beginning. your soft hand working his two cocks out of his vent, slowly working on them, hands gently wrapped around the two hardened arousals as you whisper sweet nothings into his ear.

yet something flipped in you when he first soiled your hand with his seeds as he sobs quietly. he saw it. how your eyes darkened just for a little bit, a soft chuckle ringing in his ears as his golden eyes slip tears.

since then, you’ve wrung orgasm after orgasm after, making him sob deliriously. he felt so sensitive. his two cocks were already so spent, he can’t keep going. he can’t keep cumming again, he’s gonna shoot blanks!

that’s what he sobs as his hand weakly pushes yours away, only to arch his back off of the bed so prettily as he comes for the nth time again that night. that’s what he sobs as his two cocks get hardened again as your hands leave his hard-on, almost as if his body was desperate to feel your hands wrapped around him. that’s what he sobs as his hips subconsciously push against yours.

dear geo archon, can’t even properly communicate what he wants and desires. instead opting to pathetically hump his ass on your crotch.

“l-love! puh! gcckk♡︎ a minute! just… just a minute” zhongli begs softly, pushing your hands off of his hardened cocks yet again. deciding to let him get at least a minute of break to catch his breath, you trail your hands to rest on the insides of his thighs. or to stop the violent trembling of his legs. or maybe even to wipe away the fat globs of tears on his cheeks.

either way, the dragon archon looked like a complete mess. who would have ever thought that a mere mortal could reduce such a being to tears by simply giving him a handjob? only him and you, of course. by now, you have learned almost everything about your draconic lover. he could easily get hard if you were to tease him right.

a hand ghosting over his chest, a slight squeeze to his soft ass cheeks, kneading the plush muscle and making a spreading motion with them. he blushes so cutely whenever you do that, wiggling his hips and pushing his ass towards your hand as if asking you to finger him right then and there wherever you two may be.

or maybe even whisper a simple praise to his ear when you go out on a grocery run together. a soft, “you’re such a good boy, zhongli” got him start flushing beet red.

perhaps a soft hand rubbing over the lower of his back gently over his fancy gold lined tailcoat. others would see it as a simple loving gesture. how you were massaging your lover’s back and helping him. but you and zhongli knows. that part is where his tail would usually be if he were to reveal them. the place where his tail would connect to his skin. one of his erogen zones.

“one minute time’s up, dear~” he hears you call out in a sing-song manner, right before he feels your hands return to their favorite places wrapped snuggly and tightly around his shafts.

before he could even brokenly shake his head and ask for a minute or two more, your hands continue their torture. slow, yet deep going hand strokes and how you tighten the hold on his two cocks like you’re trying to suffocate him. the previous many orgasms wrung out of him makes things easy, becoming a natural lubricant. slow yet deep. agonizing pleasure that he loves so much.

at one point, when zhongli bucks his hips into the closed fists of your hands with an embarrassingly high-pitched whine, he mistakes your hands for flesh-lights sucking them in. you’ve tried it with him before. leaving his hands tied up as you propped his legs open before engulfing his two cocks in flesh-lights. he made such a mess that day.

perhaps he should’ve realized then and there that you love seeing him lose himself to absolute debauchery. how his tears roll down, smudging his usually perfectly done red eyeliner, stumbling over his words, trying to plead for mercy.

just like right now.

even if he tries to close his legs, push your hands away or deliriously sobs ‘no!’s and ‘please!’s over and over, he never safeworded. because you know and deep down he knows as well. dragons are greedy creatures after all.

[hiraya-rawr]

giving them a seelie pet —

characters !! diluc, ayato, wanderer, zhongli

note !! little drabble as im trying to fall asleep~ gn reader

Diluc

Doesn't know how to react when you gesture for a floating green glob to approach him. He gives you a death stare. "You do know this. . . thing might end up in one of the wine crates by accident? the winery isn't the safest place for a 'pet' or whatever you intend this to be. . ."

Accepts it anyway because gentlemen don't refuse gifts. he leaves it to the maids at first but it keeps following him around that he's forced to look after it (he's saved it from being trapped in fermenting wine barrels a handful of times).

Eventually comes to accept it, but also tries to make use of it. "We need to have a better way of communicating. Can you understand morse code? . . . no? squeak twice if yes. Now what about turning you into a spy. . . too difficult? then how about a delivery bird?"

Ayato

He found it amusing but also questionable because why on teyvat would you give a seelie as a gift? it's an odd present to receive that's for sure, but he accepts it anyway.

Has a habit of teasing his new little red friend. Often pokes it, either with a pen or his finger. He's tried offering it boba milktea once but couldn't figure out where the mouth was.

Wanderer

This guy would give you the weirdest look, "looks like you're not all right in the head, because a seelie. . . pet? ha, there's something you don't hear everyday. insane."

he is an absolute bully! would poke his seelie multiple times just to hear it squeak. if it squeaks a lot, he'll trap it in his hat and keep it on a table. eventually does grow fond of it, having something rely on him gives him... purpose, makes him feel needed, and it's nice to have something his (but he'll never admit it).

may share his hat with his little golden friend!

Zhongli

He's just really glad you thought of him to give the seelie to! they have quite the history and he'll tell you all about them as you give him the pet!

although seekies tend to be quite squeaky loud, his becomes very well behaved. (zhongli simply smiles and shushes it gently, telling it to read along with him if it wants, and the seelie would settle down). they become a very calm pair, casually reading or drinking tea, strolling down the harbor. seelie likes to rest on his shoulders!

ko-fi // gen.masterlist

[trulylostgirl]

Still Get Nervous

Few things made Bucky nervous. The man had seen everything; had his life threatened on more occasions than he could ever keep track of. But asking you to marry him? He’d never been more nervous in his entire life.

The whole stoic, metal man, tough exterior never stayed around when he was around you. Even just thinking of you made him soften, which Sam of course teased him mercilessly about. He could always tell when Bucky’s mind had wandered and exactly who he was thinking about.

“If you aren’t careful, you’re gonna break that ring in half before you even get the chance to ask her,” Sam commented, nodding at the dainty ring that Bucky was fiddling with.

His teasing made that softness in Bucky’s features disappear and earned him a signature Barnes Glare. Sam softened in response, knowing Bucky was sensitive today and didn’t really need Sam pestering him. So he took a different, more gentle, approach.

“It’s tonight, right?” he asked softly, a smile tugging at his lips. Sam adored you and especially liked how much more enjoyable you made Bucky. (Which he reminded you of constantly).

“Yeah,” Bucky responded gruffly. Despite Sam’s teasing tone, he took his advice and placed the ring back in the box and then in the safety of his inner jacket pocket where he could always feel it against him. “As soon as she gets home from work, I’ll give her time to change, and then we’re going to dinner.”

Sam smiled encouragingly. “Alright. What’s the plan, then?”

Bucky ran through it in his mind. He’d fussed over the perfect way to ask for months on end. He didn’t want to screw it up.

“We’ll enjoy dinner and then after, I want to take her for a walk down at the pier. Maybe treat her to some ice cream like she always wants…and then find a little place to ourselves by the water. Then I’ll get down on one knee and ask.”

It was a simple plan, but it was perfect for the two of you. You never liked going to fancy places or having Bucky shower you in expensive gifts. You were content with him and the little moments that you shared. You adored your simple life together.

Sam smiled and nodded, “She’ll love it. I wish I could be a fly on the wall and watch the whole thing, but I’ll just wait for Y/N to tell me all about it.”

~~~~~~~

You happily scooped a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth as you walked with Bucky, arm hooked through his. “Try it, Buck,” you held your spoon up to him with a glob of ice cream on it. “I think it may be my new favorite.”

Bucky smiled down at you in amusement. “I think every flavor is your new favorite,” he teased. But he obliged and bent his head down to take the spoon into his mouth. Your wide eyes were locked on him as you waited excitedly for his opinion. He pulled away, brows furrowed as he hummed in thought before nodding. “Okay. That’s delicious.”

That just made you grin. “See? I told you!” Then you were back to enjoying your treat. You didn’t know where you were going but you didn’t really care. You had your dessert, you had a great view, and most importantly you had your Bucky.

The two of you reached the end of the pier and Bucky took your empty cup from you before leading you to the sand. While it was a warm evening, a cool breeze blew off the water.

Bucky’s free hand brushed over the bulge in his pocket that he’d tried to hide all night. Thankfully the box was fairly small, but men’s pants were so tight nowadays. The nerves were back and he was glad you were holding his arm as his hands were horribly sweaty.

Now was the perfect moment; you were alone, the closest people mere specks down the beach. And the sun was covering everything in a golden light, but Bucky was choking. The words he’d practiced and recited over and over in his head were lodged in his throat and he felt like he couldn’t swallow as he looked at you.

Your brows furrowed when you met his gaze, noting the expression on his face. “Are you alright, Buck?” you asked in concern. “Was your food bad or something?”

“No! No. The food was great, I just. Umm…”

Shit. This was not going to plan.

Bucky steeled himself and then turned to face you, moving his arm so that you were now holding his hand.

“Darling…I need to ask you a question.” He didn’t even give you a chance to respond before he was kneeling. He let go of your hand to retrieve the box and open it to reveal the ring. Then those steel blue eyes met yours and you felt the air leave your lungs. “Will you marry me?”

A smile spread across your lips and tears pricked at the back of your eyes. “Yes,” you breathed, not even having to think about it.

Bucky’s brows raised. “Yes?”

His disbelief made you laugh lightly as you nodded. “Absolutely, yes.”

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

tw: supernatural!AU, dom!demon!Seungcheol, sub!angel!fem!reader, corruption kink, breeding, marking, inspired by this post by @wonusite <3

Hell. That's where you were going to end up in.

But right now, everything feels like heaven, the same heaven you call home - except the one making you feel this way is nothing close to an angel.

"That's it baby, let your pretty angelic pussy take me whole", Seungcheol groans, throwing his head back as he fucks his cum covered cock in your swollen core, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

"S-Seungcheol, f-feels too good", you cry out, eyes hermetically shut as they sting with newly forming tears of pleasure, your soft wings fluttering with each thrust of his girthy cock, making the pearly white feathers gradually turn into an ashen gray.

"Open your eyes and look at me, angel", Seungcheol slurs your title, "This is a meaningful night, I don't want you to miss anything", he bends down and bites down on your shoulder, running his tongue over the reddening skin right after.

You reluctantly open your eyes and your irises meet his golden, hungry ones, an almost malicious smirk spreading on his plump lips.

"Good girl, always an obedient little angel, letting a dangerous, filthy demon like me breed your sweet cunt", he breaths on your cheek, your eyes fixated on his black impish wings starting to flutter, signalling his impending orgasm.

"P-Please...", "Please what, sweetheart?", "Kiss me", you whimper and Seungcheol chuckles, narrowing the gap between your bodies to smash his lips on yours, his tongue swallowing all of your moans as he cums again, his creamy cum spilling in your pussy, filling it to the brim.

"Fucking mine", he mutters as he pulls away to witness your wings darken more, streaks of black now staining their roots. He runs a hand over his silver hair, the other one wrapping around your jawline.

"Say it", he growls, "Y-Yours", you mutter weakly, "Again, but louder", "I'm yours, Seungcheol!", you moan and clench around his cock again, a few globs of his cum running down your ass.

"Let me blacken your pretty wings then, angel".

[boxofbonesfic]

Okayyy, potential trope for you. Let's see if I can get your gears turning.

It's nice to meet your idol, right? Maybe it's your favorite actor or musician.

Say, our dear reader finally scores tickets to a meet and greet of some sort. She's been saving up for a while and she's very excited to meet [guy of your choosing]. Said man takes an interest in the reader and invites her to an after party. While initially excited, once there, the reader sees this isn't exactly what it's cracked up to be.

OR

One specifically for Cap. Similar to the plot above but not an AU. Captain America saves the reader's life in one of the many attacks on New York lol. The reader delivers baked goods to Steve as a thank you, but it seems he has other plans. American's Golden Boy may not be as sweet as everyone thinks.

Title: Baker’s Dozen

Pairing: Dark!Steve x Baker!Reader

Wordcount: 1,378

Summary: You just want to deliver a personal thanks to the man who saved your life.

Warnings: Dark, Implied Noncon, Drugging, Burnt Fluff, Meet Cute, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, MINORS DNI

A/N: i had so much fun writing this, even though it took three tries! Unedited and unbeta’d, I do not consent for this or any work to be posted anywhere else by anyone but me. Read at your own risk, and mind the warnings. Enjoy!

The elbow narrowly misses the box of cupcakes in your hands, but only because you turn away just in time, taking the unassuming blow to your side instead. You grunt with pain, and the blonde who’d elbowed you looks back over her shoulder. Her eyes track over you like she’s sizing you up.

 “Sorry.” You can tell by the curl of her lip that she isn’t sorry at all. “We’ve just been waiting here so long, I was stretching out.” She’s wearing a Captain America t-shirt, Steve’s smiling face looking out at you soullessly from the image. “Have you been here long?”

 You’d been waiting longer than she had—but unlike her, you weren’t there as a fan, not really. 

 “Yeah,” you reply tartly. “A while.” Her obligational apology complete, the blonde turns back to the tower entrance, standing on her tip-toes to catch a peek of the heroes inside. You were in awe of them, but not like her. Last year, during the invasion of New York, Steve Rogers had personally saved your life. The memory is still so vivid that it sours your stomach. 

 Horrible, alien chattering, the smell of charred flesh—no thoughts, only cold, clear panic—bodies, under the rubble, under cars, in the street, running—and then him. Cutting down your pursuers with a precision that chilled you to think about. 

 “It’s okay, doll. Let’s get you out of here, okay?” 

 You wouldn’t be here without him. 

 The crowd begins to murmur, people jostling you as they begin clamoring for a glimpse of the people approaching the tower. The low murmur rises, becoming a dull hum and then louder as the street began to echo with the shouts of adoration. It’s like the Avengers are celebrities, not heroes, the way people scream and fawn. You clutch your container as the sea of people rocks you, praying you don’t lose hold of it. 

 All of them are there—Natasha, the Black Widow, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor—and Steve Rogers. You try to go over your script in your head again, trying to remember all the parts. Hi, I just wanted to thank you for—

 “Tony! Tony Stark!” Someone behind you screams. “I love you!” His head swivels in your direction, and your face burns with secondhand embarrassment. 

 “These for me?” He asks you, smirking as he gestures to the box. 

 “I, er, well actually—” The blonde elbows accidentally-on-purpose again, and this time your box slips from your grasping fingers, and tumbles face down onto the concrete. 

 “Ooops.” 

 You bite your lip as Tony bends down to collect the card inside, swiping a glob of frosting off of the front of it, before his eyes flick up to you. 

 “Not for me, then.” He looks over his shoulder. “Capsicle, this one’s all you.” Your heart hammers in your chest at his words, and embarrassed tears begin gathering in your eyes. You’d gone to a lot of trouble to wait here, just to thank him. There were others he’d saved, you know that, but… still. 

 This was stupid anyway.

 Steve pulls the card from Tony’s fingers, and your face heats as his eyes move over the thank you written on the inside. You’d rather hoped you wouldn’t be around when he read it, but then again, you’d hoped he’d actually be able to eat the cupcakes you’d spent the better part of this morning—and yesterday night—slaving over. But instead, they were smashed on the sidewalk, and he was reading your card right in front of you. 

 “I, I—”

 “You made these for me?” He asks, and you swear steam must be pouring out of your ears, from the heat of your cheeks. 

 “Yes,” you murmur, clearing your throat before repeating yourself, louder. “Yes. I wanted to say, um. Thank you. For saving me.” He flashes you one of those million watt smiles you’ve seen him give on television, and your chest tightens. 

 “Well I’ll tell you what. Since I didn’t get to eat these, why don’t we try this again?” 

 “Again?” You repeat stupidly, your brows knitting together. 

 “Again.” He confirms with a nod and a wider smile. “Why don’t you come by again tomorrow evening?” His eyes flick to the blonde beside you. “Less chance of any more accidents.” Steve winks at you, and you stammer out a yes. “Perfect. Lookin’ forward to it, doll.” 

 —

 This time, security escorts you into the building, your last two cupcakes clutched against your chest. The same blonde is out there again, and she glares daggers at your back as the black paneled doors close behind you. Steve is waiting for you in the lobby. 

 “You made it,” he says, waving. “Good.” 

 Stiffly, you hold out the container. “This is, um. For you.” He takes it, and you tuck a strand of hair behind your ear nervously. “I just. I didn’t get to say thank you, that time. I know you probably don’t even remember, but—”

 “Thirty fourth street.” He says, softly. You don’t realize he’s talking to you at first, until his eyes find yours. “Right? That’s where you were.” Your heart is pounding so loud you’re sure he can hear it. “I remember you.” 

 You swallow thickly. “O-oh.” 

 “Why don’t you come up? I can’t eat both of these by myself.” He says, wiggling the container a little. The delicately frosted roses inside are some of your best work, it had been a particular blow to see them get destroyed yesterday. 

 “I, I shouldn’t, I—”

 “Nonsense. Please, I insist. I won’t consider myself properly thanked unless you eat one of these amazing looking cupcakes with me. Please.” 

 You hedge for a moment longer before nodding. “Alright. It’s just… I eat too many of them anyway,” you joke, trying to ease the tension. He smiles, heading for the elevators. His room is high up, on a floor that makes you dizzy when you look out of the window and down to the street. It’s more like an apartment than a room, and you wonder dryly if Tony Stark is a decent landlord. 

 Steve steers you over to the kitchen, seating you at the island. “Anything to drink?” 

 “Water, please.” 

 “I’ve got… sparkling? I think Tony stocks this stuff,” he mutters, and you laugh.

 “I’ll take one off your hands.” 

 You fiddle with your phone as he pours it into a glass, and slides it across the counter to you. With barely concealed anticipation, you watch him open up the container, and remove the blue rose cupcake from its wrapping. You take a sip of the water, immediately regretting it as the bubbles spark and burn against your throat. 

 “You like to bake, doll?”

 “I had my own bakery,” you say, chasing a few stray droplets of water from your lips. “You know, before.” 

 “I’m sure your boyfriend is very proud of your success.”

 Your face goes hot. “I, um, I don’t—”

 “No? I find that hard to believe.” His gaze feels heavy as it rests on you. “You’re so sweet.” He takes a bite, and the resounding moan makes you want to squirm in your seat. “That’s amazing. Knew it would be,” he wipes a dot of frosting from his cheek, and you take another big swallow of your water. “You know, out of all the people I saved, you’re the only one to come and thank me personally?” 

 You blink slowly at him, processing the words. You don’t know why it takes you a moment longer than it should. 

 “N-no? That’s terrible.” The words feel clumsy in your mouth, like there are too many syllables in them. 

 “Oh yes. You know, I remembered you,” he reaches across the counter to touch your arm, and his hand lingers. “Sweet, soft,” his voice drops lower. “Alone.”

 Your stomach lurches, and the room tilts as you try to scramble away from him. The floor—how did you end up on the floor?—is cold beneath your clammy palms as Steve comes around the island. 

 “You’re sweet on me, doll, admit it. I don’t mind,” he says, dropping to a squat in front of you. Steve licks the rest of the icing from his fingers, taking his time with each. “Because I think I’m sweet on you, too.” 

fin

[puddle-nerd]

Menace (Part 2)

Summary: Immediately follows Menace, Part 1 because I couldn’t resist. We addressed your spanking kink. Now about Jake’s daddy kink… (Jake/Reader)

Part 1

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Prompt 5 (Daddy Kink) for my submission for LunasKinktober2023

Na’vi Translation: Tewng – loincloth Story Tags: No use of y/n, Female Reader, Friends to Lovers, Use of “baby girl” and “Daddy”, Riding without penetration, Idiots, They’re both idiots! Idiots in Love

“I have a spanking kink. You have a daddy kink. It’s cool. I’ll call you daddy if you spank me like that some more.” Jake chuckled. “You started it,” he countered. “I had my fingers stuffed up inside you and you asked me if I could come, calling me daddy while you did so. It was so fucking hot I almost came on the spot.” You blinked. “So… it wasn’t a dream?” You hesitantly asked. Jake shifted to look at you. “Is that why you were being weird afterward?” He asked. “You thought you imagined it?” You nodded slowly, defending yourself with an exasperated, “You were drunk! I was not about to take advantage of you or something!” Jake just grinned, fueling your irritation. “Oh, stop looking at me like that, you menace.” You smacked your hands down upon his chest but it did more damage to you than to him. He laughed. “Ugh, you’re an ass, Sully.” You went to roll out of bed only to be hauled right back up and manhandled to sit upon his waist. Jake’s golden eyes raked over you. “You look good sitting up there,” he commented, licking his lips. “And… to set the record straight, if you ever feel in the mood, all you gotta do is tell me to drop my tewng, baby girl. Long as you want it, this is all yours.” He gripped your hips and slid you back, sliding you onto the side of his shaft so that he wasn’t inside of you but he could feel your arousal and cum drip down onto his length pressed between his abdomen and your pelvis. “Every. Single. Inch.” He punctuated those last three words with a twitch of his hips and getting you to grind down against him. You couldn’t help but moan. “That right,” you questioned. “All of this is just mine, daddy?” Jake’s pupils dilated so only a thin ring of gold showed. “I don’t share, baby girl,” he snarled, hands clenching on your hips and buttocks. “Daddy’s the only one getting to see you like this. Hear you like this. Fuck you like this.” He started to slide you back and forth over his hard cock, the rod like a titanium pipe covered in velvet and hot to the touch. “Tell Daddy you agree.” You whimpered, you clit dragging over the ridges and nuns that apparently adorned his cock. “Tell Daddy you’re his or you don’t get to cum. Be a good girl and tell me!” “Yours, yours, all yours,” you chanted, whining as Jake sped up his movements below you and you reaped the benefits of an unsmooth ride. Your clit was near to singing as it pulsed with every push and pull. “Oh, fuck, don’t stop, Jake!” The Avatar snarled, “Not my name!” You sobbed, grinding harder onto his cock, slick with your arousal and cum from your last orgasm. “Daddy! ‘M close! Don’t stop! Don’t stop! Don’t sto–oh, fuck! Daddy cumming!” You gushed all over the length of him as your second climax rushed through you, his hands on your hips the only thing holding you steady. Below you, Jake grunted, silvery blue cum spurting in huge globs up his stomach and chest as he joined you in ecstasy, nearly covering his upper body in it. “Fuck,” Jake panted, trying to catch his breath. “I’m gonna need a bath after this.” “You could use the showers built for Avatars,” you suggested, shivering as the bliss faded from your limbs, “but you’d have to cross the common area. Or you could try to squeeze into mine and probably hurt yourself.” Jake snorted. “Abusive,” he accused without any heat, finding the discarded bedsheet and wiping himself clean before easing you down onto the mattress and getting up. He did reach into your adjoining bathroom and grabbed one of your hand towels, wetting it and bringing it back to you. He was gentle as he cleaned you up, taking care of your sensitive lower body. “You green, baby girl?” “I’m so green I’m Kermit the Frog,” you muttered, starting to feel like cotton was developing in your brain. He chortled at that and tossed the wet cloth on top of the bedsheet. “Come cuddle,” you whined, eyes beginning to cross. “M’cold.” And he was a furnace. Jake eased himself down onto your bed and snuggled you up against him, kissing your forehead. “Night, baby girl,” he whispered. You hummed in response. “Night, daddy.”

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Originally Posted: 05 October 2023 Word Count: 746

AO3

@pandoraslxna, @eyweveng

[roserefrain]

[1126 words]

Florian practices recognizing his emotions, as Aster practices their painting.

"How are you feeling?" The question should be expected at this point, Aster purposefully asked it multiple times a day after all, but it caught Florian off guard every time.

He pauses, wanting to provide a genuine answer, as difficult as that could be. Closing his eyes, he does a quick mental examination of each part of his body. Physical sensations, that's always easier to recognize, he can find the emotion that way. The emotion is currently kept in his hands and his neck, in the way he rests a hand on the hilt of his sword, in the way he repeatedly turns his head to look left, then right.

"Nervous?" Ah, that sounded like a guess. "Nervous," he repeats, this time making his voice sound sure. Yes, he was doing this right, he was accomplishing the task they had given him.

"And?" A playful grin is on their face as they move their brush across the canvas in a swift arc. They raise an eyebrow at him, awaiting his reaction.

And? 'And' was never a part of this before. 'How do you know' and 'why' had both been asked before, an additional layer of difficulty on the assignment, but ones that would be trivial currently. He knew he was nervous because he felt tense, and he felt nervous because Aster was painting out in the open. Sure, he had made sure that no one else would be in the garden, closed it to the public... But that didn't make this whole process less nerve wracking.

"Flor-i-an." They separate each syllable of his name, the way they do whenever they can see him getting lost in his thoughts.

"I don't understand the question. I told you how I am feeling already."

"You're absolutely, completely, one-hundred percent nervous? No other feelings bouncing around at all?" Aster set down their paintbrush for a moment, peeking out from behind the canvas at Florian's face.

"...I told you the emotion I am feeling," Florian repeats, letting out a sigh. "That was our agreement, yes? I tell you the emotion I am feeling. I am not going to arbitrarily list out another one."

Aster laughs at that, but Florian really isn't sure why. "Ah yes, our contractual agreement," they mumble through giggles. "Alright, hold on."

They walk out from behind the canvas fully now, holding several small bottles of paint. They extend their arm, showing off the bottle of golden paint they are holding. Florian stares at it for a moment, noting that there are dried bits of the color flaking around the lid.

"Okay, so, this is happy."

"Can we perhaps make a different color happiness?" Florian squints disapprovingly at the golden hue, matching his eyes perfectly. Aster had to have done that intentionally. Why must they call attention to his eyes so often? It didn't seem mocking, but he couldn't imagine another reason.

"Absolutely not, mister! Yellow's my favorite and you know that!" They gesture at him with the paint bottle, shaking it like a finger wag. "So, this is happy, and this one is sad." They hold up a blue paint bottle with all the pride that one would normally hold up a sword.

"Where are you going with this?"

"Gimmie a second!" Aster grabs their wooden palette, hooking it around their thumb as they squeeze a small glob of each color down on to it. They reach out and grab their brush, swirling it around in the two colors in a little figure eight motion. "Okay! What's this?"

Florian tilts his head like a bird, looking at the little smear of color across the wood. "...Green."

"No- well, yes it's green, but, they're emotions! We mixed happy and sad!"

"Ah, then it is nothing." Florian nods. He didn't understand the reason for this demonstration, but he was at least positive that he had understood it. "They cancel each other out."

Aster stares at him for a moment, as if gauging if he was serious. Ah, was he wrong then? They blink slowly, and then shake their head, their halo moving ever so slightly above them. "...Mm. We'll work on it, okay? But, just think about if they didn't cancel each other out. If you felt multiple things at once."

They step back behind the canvas, sticking their tongue out as they focus again on their painting. Whenever they made that expression, squinting and tilting their head, completely lost in their work... It made him feel something.

He didn't know what this feeling was, but it lived in his cheeks, and deep in his chest. A sort of fuzzy feeling, light and warm. It made the nervousness fade away, so Aster must be incorrect about feeling multiple things at once, right?

"I think I'm done."

"Ah, may I see it then?" For the last hour, he had wanted so badly to see it, to know what each of those little blobs of color could become on the canvas. But, Aster had insisted that they'd feel too nervous if someone was watching them the entire time they painted.

"Knock yourself out." They step back, gesturing with one wing in the direction of the canvas. But, it wasn't just a canvas anymore, was it? It was a painting.

Florian approaches the painting, keeping his arms folded carefully behind his back. This... This painting... Sure, as he expected, it was a painting of the rose garden, the bushes, the flowers, the carefully maintained arches, but...

Aster let out a laugh, a noise that made him jump. "Your ears! They're so red!" They cover their mouth, their glowing smile still visible between their fingers.

Florian quickly claps his hands over his pointed ears, but he can feel blood rushing to his cheeks as well. It's pointless to try and hide it. How is he supposed to control his emotions now?

The painting, he's in it. Standing right there, in the garden, one hand on his sword as he keeps watch, just as he did while Aster painted.

"So," Aster says, moving their hand away from their mouth as they grin at him, "what do you think?"

And as Florian turns to see them, the setting sun silhouetting them, their eyes shining with an emotion he couldn't identify, a bright smile lighting up the entire garden, their white feathers blowing ever so slightly in the breeze... He understands. He understands what that feeling deep in his chest is, and he understands how someone can feel so many contradictory things at once. Fear, joy, shame, and... the one he could finally put a name to, all within him simultaneously.

"...It's beautiful." But he can't bring himself to look back at the painting as he says it. He can't tear his eyes away from them.

[pinkweirdsunsets]

“Shut up and use that mouth for a better purpose,” Tighnari groans, “Push me against the wall and kiss me."

I. FIRST The first time it happens is about 6 months after Tighnari’s investigation. Cyno knocks on the door of his dorm, holding a heavy textbook borrowed from the House of Daena. And contrary to his usual composure, he almost looks hesitant, shy, like he shouldn’t really be here.

“What are you doing here?” Tighnari blurts out before he can stop himself, immediately feeling his lungs go all taut and uncomfortable. He really needs to keep a better check on his tongue.

“Uh… you ordered this from the House of Daena,” Cyno points towards the book in his hand, “I was passing by, and decided to bring it to you.”

“Oh, um, thanks,” Tighnari says, embarrassed.

Cyno nods, staring up at the ceiling, ears pink, “I will leave now….take care.”

There is sunlight on Cyno’s cheeks, and Tighnari’s lips are cold. Cyno looks at him, golden skin, hibiscus eyes, and all Tighnari can think about is the way the sun rays fall on him, warming his body. Tighnari, who is so terribly cold, lips freezing. He needs to fall, trip, dip himself in globs of liquid sunlight.

The moment Cyno turns to leave, Tighnari is leaning, and it all happens faster than any of them can process anything, but Tighnari is leaning, face closing in, lips pecking Cyno’s cheek, lips kissing sunlight.

And just as fast, he is pulling back, slamming the door shut in Cyno’s face, terrified of what he just did. 2. SECOND

The next time it’s Cyno who steps closer, leaning down to take Tighnari’s hand, bringing it up to his lips, softly pressing his open mouth against pale skin.

It happens in front of Tighnari’s father. Because Cyno believes he must make a good impression. Like a true gentleman, as he believes himself to be.

He presses his lips against the front of Tighnari’s hand in a gentle kiss. And if that’s not already enough, he turns it around, facing the palm, and placing another kiss right in the middle, sending a wave of shivers throughout Tighnari’s body.

Tighnari’s father raises an eyebrow, amused, while his son desperately tries to hide his bright red face, ears pressed flat against his head. Cyno remains blissfully ignorant, proud of himself.

Later, when Tighnari is alone with his father, he is nudged, a teasing smile thrown towards his direction.

“The General Mahamatra himself, huh? Going after the big shots, I see.”

Tighnari groans, hiding his face in his hands for the umpteenth time that day. 3. THIRD

“Tighnari, I came here to talk. Can you stop pushing me on your bed?”

There is an abrupt stop to Tighnari’s attempts at trying to push Cyno into a sleeping position in his bed, and he gapes, horrified, “Can you please not phrase it like that? That sounds very wrong.”

“Wrong? Why does it sound wrong?”

Tighnari almost splutters on his words, biting his tongue on accident, “Because…because it sounds like I am inviting you to copulate!”

Cyno’s eyes widen at realization, and he half chokes on a cough, averting his eyes, “Tighnari, are these the type of things you think about? As the General Mahamatra, it’s my duty to remind you to pay attention to your studies instea—”

“Oh, I pay attention to my studies alright!” Tighnari snaps, pulling over a blanket to cover Cyno, “And stop changing the topic. You look like you haven’t slept for days. I am forcing you to rest.”

Cyno gives in with an exasperated sigh, “As you wish.”

Tighnari waits for a moment before speaking again, “Well? Close your eyes then?”

“I apologize but that may not be possible. It’s important for me, with all the enemies I have, to sleep with one eye open.”

Tighnari’s jaw drops, in disbelief, incredulous. With an annoyed click of his tongue, he pushes back the hair covering Cyno’s other eye. Then, with his fingers, he gently pushes them both shut.

“Tighnar—”

“Shut up and sleep,” he says, and leans down to kiss each eyelid, slowly, taking his time, lips against sensitive skin, touch featherlight.

“Not one more excuse from you, am I clear?” 4. FOURTH It’s not often the General Mahamatra indulges in public display of affections.

So, it’s normal to expect the entire Akademiya go up in flames, an outburst of hushed whispers and gossip, students staring wide eyed when the General leaves an important meeting to seek out the ethereal, tall-eared scholar from the Amurta Darshan.

To pull him out of the crowd, bodies pressing close in a proximity not appropriate for friends. To slide one hand into his hair, stroking slightly. And finally, to lean down, pressing lips against his forehead.

There is an important exam right after. The General Mahamatra came all the way to wish him best of luck. 5. FIFTH Their first proper kiss isn’t really a kiss. Not in the way lips usually press against each other, aggressively , parting, melting in warmth. It’s only a gesture, an accident, of yearning bottled up, overwhelming, until it almost overflows, a mere two or three droplets tickling down.

The General Mahamatra is allowed in the Student dormitories for a variety of reasons focused around the nature of his work. What he is not allowed in for is to lean towards an Amurta graduate, mingling their breaths, bodies pressed close against the floor pantry.

But his heart is only a crowbar, lifting the weight of his feelings that burst out like hot bubbles on top of a boiling supper.

It’s Tighnari who moves first, and their first kiss isn’t really lips clashing with no restraints. Their lips brush. Again and again . And a couple more times. Until both of them have lost the count.

Warmth breath fanning across their mouths, and their lips only brush like a pair of ruffling feathers, and yet Cyno exhales, tired and falling in love, and Tighnari’s lips tremble at how intense the feel of Cyno’s breath against his mouth feels like, and that’s a kiss alright. 6. SIXTH “About last night—” Cyno begins the next day.

“No,” Tighnari interrupts, “Don’t talk about it, about the kiss, I—”

Cyno furrows his eyebrows, “That wasn’t a kiss. Not a proper one I mean.”

Tighnari cannot breathe, “You want to… do a proper one?”

Cyno is nervous, and red all over, breath shaky, when he answers, “May I kiss you…properly, I mean? May we kiss?”

It’s humiliating how loud Tighnari’s heart beats in his own ears, and at the very moment, he curses his heightened hearing. There is absolutely no need for him to be shoved face first into his own pathetic, sappy feelings, to see just how down bad he is for Cyno.

And it’s even more embarrassing for him to stammer on his next words, “Y-yes. But ! Not on my lips. You have the permission to kiss me anywhere else.”

Cyno blinks. Not on the lips? Oh.

And Tighnari notices his expression, rushing in to explain, “It’s nothing deep! I just cannot be distracted from my studies right now. I have finals starting next week. If you kiss me on the lips, it might genuinely affect my concentrat—”

“It’s okay,” Cyno pipes in, “I get it. Anywhere but the lips.”

Then, he steps closer. Taking Tighnari’s face in his hands, cradling his cheeks. One caress later, he is moving his nails through his hairline, softly ruffling his hair, only stopping when the back of his fingers graze the edge of Tighnari’s ear.

Before Tighnari can gasp in realization of what exactly is happening, Cyno’s lips are already taking in the tip of Tighnari’s ear, biting slightly, leaving a soft peck right after. All of that while his other hand fondles the lower length of his ear.

Cyno pulls back, surprised to see Tighnari holding his head, expression pained, ears a bright pink, drooping shyly.

“Is everything okay?”

“I am going to fail,” Tighnari whines, biting into his palm, “I am going to fail and it’s all your fault.”

Cyno smiles, eyes shining, chest swelling with pride, because deep in his heart, he knows that no matter what, Tighnari is still going to ace all of his papers. 7. SEVENTH The first time they kiss properly, with lips clashing, wet mouths mingling is the day Tighnari leaves the Akademiya.

“I respect your decision, Tighnari. Please don’t take me in the wrong way. It’s just that….”

“Just what?”

Cyno’s eyes soften, “It’s comforting… keeping you near me.”

Tighnari’s heart clenches, wrapped between a coil of endless wires, magnetic, longing , “… I am not moving nations, Cyno. I am still going to be here.”

“Right,” Cyno nods, “Take care, Nari.”

Tighnari smiles, “Would you not like to kiss me? Before I leave?”

Cyno crosses his arms, mirth sprinkling into his eyes, “So, you finally want the kiss?” he teases, “No more exams you can fail, am I right?”

“Shut up and use that mouth for a better purpose,” Tighnari groans, “Push me against the wall and kiss me.”

“Look at you, not even a day since you graduated and you are already getting all bold and kinky.”

“I am leaving.”

“No, you are not,” Cyno declares, reaching out for his arm, and pulling him flush against his chest, “Not until I get the kiss.”

He says, and pushes him against the wall, fingers circling the back of his neck, lips hovering over the corner of his mouth.

“Kiss me Cyno,” Tighnari whispers hoarsely, then he proceeds to lick his bottom lip, “ Please.”

That one singular action sends Cyno’s heart in overdrive, and his fingers dig in, tightening his hold. He touches Tighnari hot, parting his mouth with his own teeth, gently, careful not to hurt him. He touches him like he is a bunch of tangled, gorgeous gold fabric, unraveling each string, picking them apart.

At first, his movements are calculated, with every poke of his tongue, he explores Tighnari’s mouth further and further, tasting the inside of pink, wet walls. But Tighnari is one impatient man, and he bites. Bites his tongue, his lips, his mouth, until they are kissed raw, bruised and plump.

With every sip, salacious and tantalizing, Cyno finds his mind a deserted landscape clouded in mist, completely intoxicated. Inebriated , head ducked in a tub of cold alcohol, filling his eyes, his lungs, his mouth.

If this is how Tighnari tastes like, he wouldn’t mind being a drunkard. 8. EIGHTH Cyno kisses with half of his heart dangling out. He kisses intensely, lips pressing with such emotion you would think his tear bags are stored inside them. Almost like his lips weep, sobbing out elegies of his love, of all that he feels for Tighnari. It’s overwhelming — the way he tastes Tighnari’s mouth, trailing behind all his endearment like souvenirs tossing out of a bag.

Cyno kisses like a man with too much to give, he snaps his heart into two pieces, makes a point to choose the bigger piece, and places it between Tighnari’s lips, before helping push it deeper towards his throat, helping him swallow it whole.

This is how Cyno kisses. 9. NINTH Tighnari kisses with laughter in his mouth. There’s nothing better than someone else’s laughter in your mouth . He kisses ferociously, teasing , all biting and bruises. His lips are sneaky, playful, reaching places in Cyno’s mouth, spoiling them with experimental licks until Cyno growls in his mouth, tongue attacking for a battle of dominance. Tighnari’s lips tingle with adrenalin. He loves the chase .

Tighnari kisses like a madman. Like Cyno’s kisses are a bottle of ink, toppling over itself, staining Tighnari’s mouth with an ocean incoming, an ocean of blues, reds and pinks; everytime he kisses him blue (softly) everytime he kisses him red (roughly) everytime he kisses him pink (tenderly). Like a thirsty man, Tighnari drowns down in whatever Cyno holds in himself when their mouths meet.

This is how Tighnari kisses. 10. TENTH The first time they sleep together in one bed is long after Tighnari has graduated. He stays at Gandharva Ville, in his hut, and Cyno pays him a visit. A dinner too long, a couple extra hours spent laughing, and suddenly Tighnari has convinced him to stay the night over.

This is also how Cyno finds out that Tighnari talks in his sleep.

It begins with a string of muffled gibberish, words put together that make no sense, and he grumbles it all against Cyno’s chest. Slowly, intelligible phrases recognizable to Cyno come next.

It starts with ‘Put down that mushroom this instant’ and Cyno is suddenly fully awake. Looking around for one of those idiotic adventurers Tighnari complains about. He almost reaches for his staff, ready to defend against any uninvited visitor, before realizing that everything is fine. It’s just Tighnari mumbling in his sleep, ‘Sag. Stop messing with my tail. Can you not be a good boy for once?’

Cyno smiles. The sight is adorable. And he would have liked to keep smiling if the next thing that doesn’t come out of Tighnari’s mouth is, ‘Not another joke, Cyno. You are going to ruin Sumeru’s reputation,’ and at that, he immediately lies down on his back.

He brings Tighnari’s body closer, smoothing back his long, droopy ears, patting his head, “Right, right, you can talk about your mushrooms in the morning.”

Tighnari’s head settles in the crook of Cyno’s neck, nuzzling, ‘Come back home, Cyno…’

Cyno’s breath hitches at that. He exhales, a melancholic sound. His recent missions have kept him away for the past 4 months. It has been difficult for both of them.

He places a series of soft kisses, starting from the top of Tighnari’s head, to over his eyebrows, his nose, over the pulse point on his neck, against the soft hollow area.

“I am home, Tighnari.” 11. ELEVENTH “Tighnari.”

“Yes?”

The two of them walk along a narrow, secluded path situated on the outskirts of Gandharva Ville. Relaxed, moonlit shadows craft webs behind them, lining their steps. They are on a routine late-night patrol that Tighnari had on his agenda — an outing that Cyno spontaneously decided to join.

“Our love story is the ultimate 'his and his'tory."

“Your tone was so serious. I thought this was going to be something important.”

"Are you a campfire?”

“Cyno.” Tighnari warns slowly.

“Because you've roasted your way into my heart. Will you be my marshmallow mate for life?"

Tighnari was completely ready to groan away another one of Cyno's jokes, but at that , he stops, heart trembling, at the hidden implications of the joke. His usually confident stride falters, and he looks back, startled, wide eyed.

“Are you—? Are you proposing to me with puns?! ” He asks in a tone that’s both ridden with disbelief and a concealed touch of adoration, quivering.

“Yes.”

“Yes?” Tighnari repeats, incredulous.

“Thank you for saying yes. I love you very much too. We are now husbands.”

“Hey! That wasn’t what I was saying yes to—Ugh, leave. A-And what do you mean we are husbands now?”

“We are husbands,” Cyno simply states.

“And what if I divorce you for tormenting me with bad jokes?”

“No, no, Tighnari. The policies of this marriage doesn’t allow for that.”

“What? What policies are you talking about? Show me.”

“They are listed down in the marriage certificate. Alhaitham is drafting it as we speak.”

“There is no way Alhaitham would do something like that.”

“But he is. Lesser Lord Kusanali asked him to.”

“Lesser Lord Kusanali knows?” Tighnari exclaims.

Cyno nods, “Everyone knows, Tighnari. The reception is tomorrow. Kaveh is in charge of the decoration. Candace helped me choose the dining caterers. Faruzan and Dehya are sending out invitations.”

“Why does everyone know except me?!”

“Because it’s supposed to be a surprise. I am only telling you in advance so you can be prepared for the kiss we will have to put up tomorrow as a show for everyone.”

"Kiss? Hold on a second, Cyno. What are you—”

Cyno mimics the tone of who you would call a priest, “It’s the ‘You may kiss the groom now’ part that I am referring to, Nari.”

“Cyno! Have some shame. This is Sumeru. We don’t do that here.”

“Who said we don’t? Tell me Tighnari, may I kiss the groom?”

Tighnari doesn’t have the heart to reject him, especially with how bright Cyno’s eyes look under the moonlight, sparkling with genuine joy. 

He dramatically sighs, giving in, smiling tiredly, “Sure, whatever. You may kiss the groom.”

And so he says. Then in a moment of sudden courage, he pounces on Cyno, his weight knocking back both of them down, sending the pair rolling down a vast bed of flowers and grass, tangled bodies, mouths pressed in a heated, passionate lock. In love. In love. In love. 12. TWELFTH you are pressing against me like i press flowers against the pages in my book. you are kissing my neck and it feels like the start of forever. i want to touch you until my palms burn.

(X) (I have loved before, but it didn’t feel like this) (I have kissed before, but it didn’t burn me alive)

— END — if you enjoyed, please consider leaving a comment on ao3 and liking/reblogging this post. ALSO please enjoy the most adorable art based on this

[gale-dekarios]

⚠️ NEW WHITE BOY ALERT ⚠️

This is Alastor Hhune, who was my Descent into Avernus character!

Backstory Under Cut

He had a rough start to life, the tiefling (yes, tiefling!) son of Percival Hhune, who had made a deal with an erinyes previously. Unbeknownst to him, the next child he accidentally bore with a secret Mistress would turn out as a tiefling due to his brush with the Hells, clearly marked a bastard child from birth.

He wasn't allowed to associate with the family, being kept as a servant to his older half-brother, Eoin, until one fateful evening during a formal dinner among the other patriars it was revealed by Nysene Eomane, Gods knows how she knew, and in blistering shame, to restore his family's honour, Eoin challenged Alastor to a duel.

It was a bloodbath. The boys ripped ceremonial rapiers from the walls and turned them on each other. Chic wallpaper curled under the weight of splattered viscera, golden finery seeped with red, pooling into the grooves like veins, and it ends with a final stand in the front garden.

It was a cool night, or maybe Alastor was just dying, but with a final surge forward, he caught his brother, his tormentor, his master, right in the stomach, and it was too much for him to bare. He felt the rush of victory, the satisfaction of survival, but with gritted teeth, and the determination to destroy, with his last breath Eoin thrust his blade high, hitting Alastor's lung, and they both fell, their blood black under the sliver of the moon high above their heads.

In that moment, a dark shape stood above him.

"I can save you," It said. "If you devote yourself to me."

"Who are you?" He gurgled, the words barely understandable as his lung filled with blood.

"Pledge yourself, Alastor, or die."

And with his final breath, garbled, he pledges.

When he awakes, he's different. Changed. Gone are his horns, his ashen grey skin, the weight of a tail balancing him.

He stands next to a devil, her head high, her brow aloof.

"You died. I brought you back. Your allegience has been given freely."

"What did you do to me?"

"You were too far gone. Your body had already passed. Your soul, however, remained. If I hadn't caught it and remade you anew from the Styx itself, who knows where you might have ended up?"

"Who... who are you?"

"I'm your Mother, Alastor. Or the closest thing to it."

For indeed the devil who had come to his aid in his last moments was the erinyes his father had made a deal with all those years ago, and she came baring a gift: that of life. What else is a mother than that?

And so Alastor, among a group of others, ventured through the Hells, pushing back to Baldur's Gate, although she -- his Mother -- remained at the back of his head, guiding his hand. He, a once sweeter man, broken by the City and those who lived within it, grew crueller and crueller, unquestioning in his submission to her authority.

Pulling himself and Elturel from the Hells was no easy task, but he had no time to bask in the glory of his heroics, no matter how selfish and self-serving they may be. He had just landed in Baldur's Gate when, once again, he found himself back in Avernus, the sulfur welcoming him back like a glob of spit to the face. Like a Groundhog Day, he despaired his misfortune, and even worse, he finds out not so long after touching back down in Faerûn that he once again will be undergoing a transformation against his will...

[noffy96]

Errink fic: What death takes from us Chapter 2

Well, so far the poll is voting for today...but night has passed for me so it's technically tomorrow? So both sides win? Next time I will think a bit harder on that poll, it was a bit spur of the moment XD

But here it is Chapter 2! And i am quite proud of it. so everyone go enjoy

What death takes from us:

Painfull struggles:

Word count: 9166 

Chapter (2/3) (In process)

(previous chapter)

Chapter Summary:

Ink is hiding, how much he is struggling with the current situation. He doesn't want Error to know how much he misses that he could simply touch him. But one phone call might just change all that.

Link here to AO3

Or continue below the read-more line

He dipped the brush in the glob of yellow and continued to paint. He had been at it for hours. This was the third painting of the day, and at this point, his mind had zoned out. His body just continued on autopilot. 

The quiet was nice. It won't last. But it was nice.  He tried to ignore all the different colors bubbling under the surface trying to come up and take hold of him once more. 

He just wanted to enjoy the moment of calm for as long as it lasted, having been way too frenzied even for his own liking. But today was a day off. Error was hanging out with Blue and Lust, finally able to catch up on Undernovela after the crazy months they had just had. 

A soft smile came over his face as a bit of pink flooded his system. He was sure he was gonna hear all about it later. 

There was a buzzing sound, and he looked down at his phone. He had forgotten it was here. He had been listening to some podcast of sorts, but he didn’t know when that had stopped. He checked the screen.  It read ‘Dream calling’. A burst of yellow and blue came to the surface, and with some fumbling, he accepted the call and put him on speaker, so he could continue his work. 

“Heya Dream, it’s been a while.”

“Ink…you saw me two days ago,” Dream said with a sigh.

He blinked surprised staring at the screen for a second when a memory came to him. Of himself, Blue, and Dream helping out in Outertale. Something about people being stuck on asteroids.

“Ah, you are right, my bad.” 

“So…uh…how have things been with you and Error?”   Dream asked awkwardly. 

The blue took over the yellow, and everything around him seemed to dim in color. 

“No updates…still the same, just like last month…and the month before that…and the month before that…” 

He was trying to sound neutral. Which he normally did without a problem. But now…it felt like there was a hint of bitterness in his own tone. 

Error’s death had really set things back for them. They didn’t have an incident quite like the one on the first day he returned. But even standing close to his boyfriend made the glitches spring up. 

“I am…sorry to hear that…”

He gave an answering hum. It might be the slight static coming through the phone, but he wasn’t sure if Dream fully meant what he said. 

Dream and Error never really got on. He knew his Glitchy could care less about Dream. 

But Error cared enough for him to not be a total asshole about it. He just grumble a bit, and it wasn’t like he would force Error to change. 

They didn’t like each other. It wasn’t a big deal, Both of them could set aside their anger if it really came down to it. 

Well, he hoped so anyway.

His own relationship with his former best friend was…Strained to say the least.

Noticing a mistake in his work, he frowned and went to fix it.

“How is the truce with Nightmare going?” he asked the golden twin. 

“I am surprised you remembered”

He gave a shrug the other couldn’t see over the phone.

“But things are going…”

There was a pause in which he heard some rustling like Dream was changing positions.

“Good, I suppose.” 

He gave another hum.

“Just not as fast as you hoped?” 

“I Guess…, I think…I thought I’d be able to talk more about…you know everything that happened but we mostly just…I dunno” 

“Talk business?”  he offered.

Dream laughed softly. 

“Hit the nail on the head with that one. Dunno what I expected…more I suppose.” 

He could almost see the positive guardian shrug. 

“Don’t worry, you got all the time in the world to sort things out…I mean, if you could forgive me enough to start talking to me again…well I have no doubts You and your brother can manage as well”  

He could feel yellow flow through him, trying to put as much care and sympathy in his voice as possible, probably overshooting it by a bit. The long pause that followed made him worry he had said something wrong. 

“I guess so…” 

And try as he might he wasn't able to tell what Dreams' tone meant. So before another long pause would come he decided to quickly change subjects. 

“So how's your break? Gone anywhere fun?“ 

He asked vaguely remembering Blue having mentioned going somewhere with Dream. As he cleaned his brush and now dipped it in a vibrant red.

“...feeling less like punishment...”  Dream stated hesitantly “ I am sure you heard from Blue?” 

“That he caught you trying to increase the Au’s positivity, when you were off duty. Yes, I did. I think he mentioned it along with lecturing me for the same thing?” He said with a laugh

“Are…you really that stressed..?”  

Blinking at the question. Feeling his eyes' shapes change several times, pulling away from the canvas. 

“Guess so?...dunno…?”  

He felt blue and purple start to mix but it wasn’t making him sad…more anxious. But for what he wasn’t sure. 

“Just don’t push yourself too hard okay, We don’t want what happened to Error to happen to you.”  

He took in a quick gasp and quickly shook his head. Trying to get rid of the unwanted image that popped into his head. Quickly grabbing some more paint, some of it dripping of the brush and onto his toes as he brought it back to the canvas.

“Awww! You do still care about me after all.”  

His voice sounded wrong, too much-forced cheer. When he wasn’t feeling any of it, in the way the yellow was coming through, over the much stronger purple he tried to swallow down

“I never stopped idiot. '' 

Dream snapped back loudly, and he fell silent. Feeling various shades of blue. Dream had sounded hurt. He had just meant it as a fun tease

“Sorry..” 

He mumbled automatically and he heard Dream let out a heavy sigh. 

“It’s…it’s fine…I know you didn’t…”

 There was another long pause.

 “I shouldn’t have shouted”  Dream finished eventually.

A guilty feeling welled up inside of him. Having an inkling that what he just heard, was something that was in some way concerning even if he couldn't pinpoint why.  Feeling slightly frustrated at his memory failing him. 

“You…are allowed to be Upset at me..”

He said tentatively. He knows he isn’t the easiest to deal with. And Dream has forgiven a lot from him. Small and big things. They wouldn’t have been together for as long as they had if Dream hadn’t. It had come with its own pitfalls. And he can see the mistakes and unhealthy balance that was their past relationship. He was sure Dream saw them too.

It was painful in a way. Knowing you had unintentionally hurt someone you cared quite deeply for. He would never say that he regretted his past relationship with Dream But now, he can say with much more clarity that he rather just be friends. 

That is why he wants to fix it. Try and talk like the immortal adults they are. It was hard on both of them. Dream had a particularly nasty few months behind him. Where he was lashing out more and more. Dream had been forced into a mold. One that he had sometimes helped build, and he was glad to see his former Lover freer. Even with the nasty side effects. Dream was allowed to be angry at him.  

Reconnecting with Nightmare was also a good sign. The two of them having these regular phone calls helped too. It might be a long while until they could hang out like old friends again. But they got time, and he was looking forward to that day. 

Dream sighed deeply. 

“You…are right…..But I didn’t need to lash out..” The other mumbled. 

He gave the phone a smile.

 “You’re forgiven.“ 

Dream let out a small laugh, then the sound of another voice sounded distantly over the phone. 

“Mnn? With Who?...yeah that is okay, be sure to let me know when you come back”  

Dream said to whoever was on the other end. And he felt excitement grow inside of him. There were only a few people that hung around Dreams house. 

He picked up the phone and in his rush dropped his small paintbrush to the floor. 

“Is that Pallete?! Can you say Hi for me?! “

Dream made a sound like a wince, 

Oops he didn’t mean to shout, but then he heard something from the background then Dream going 

“Yes it is, he says hi” There was a small pause.  “Oh yeah sure…Ink, Pallete wants to talk with you”

More yellow rushed through him making him rock in place. 

He was always happy to chat with any of his kids. He knew he wasn’t the best dad. Some might say even one of the worst. But he tries, he honestly does. He knows that with some of them, he might never get a good relationship going.

But Pallete wasn’t one of them, A proper father-son dynamic, he might not get. But Pallete at least didn’t hate him.  And he would do his utmost best, to be there for him should he ever need it. 

“Dad..?” 

The smile on his face grew at hearing the familiar voice. 

“Hey, Pal! How are you doing?” 

“Good! Um, little question? Think we can move our meeting up a week? I really need to help a friend out.”  

The yellow got taken over by blue, and he felt the excitement fade from his voice, no matter how hard he tried to control it. But he swallowed down the sadness and tried to not sound disappointed. 

“Oh..of course!, let me just…write down the new date…I don’t wanna forget…So not coming Wednesday….but the one after that, according to OG timeline rules?” 

“Mnn Yes, Sorry that I had to change it on such short notice, I just really don’t wanna abandon my friend.” 

 He smiled Pallete was a good kid. Most likely Dreams influence. As he quickly changed the date on his scarf with his finger.

“Of course not, your old man can wait okay? It will give me more time to set things up” 

“Thanks, Dad!, gotta run now. Sorry and bye” 

“It is okay, Take care and see you soon”  

There was some more rustling, as the phone was handed back hearing Dream say to Pallete

“Have fun at Goths!” 

Which made him smile. He had a feeling about who his son was helping out. Maybe Error might know something and could fill him in. Then there was another pause in their conversation. 

“Are you okay, Ink?” 

He shook his head.

“Yeah…yeah I am fine…was just…looking forward to spending time with him, that’s all”  

Dream let out a sympathetic hum. 

“Did you write down the new date?” 

He could hear the doubt in Dream's voice. And he had to tempt down the small flash of hot anger that wanted to boil up. He wasn’t that much of an idiot.

“Of course, don’t want to forget” 

“Please don’t “  

His grip on his phone tightened. And he decided to keep his mouth shut.

“Ah sorryIink, I gotta go as well…It was…enjoyable…to talk with you again” 

He noticed how the other avoided the word fun. But he would take it. 

“I am glad we talked as well Dream. Same time next month?” 

“Works for me, hear from you then, if nothing else comes up”  

He chuckled at Dream.

“With our job, not gonna happen. But let’s hope the multiverse gives us both a small break” 

Dream chuckled as well

 “We certainly earned it... Bye Ink” 

“Bye Dream” 

And then he heard a click and lowered his phone staring pensively at the call-ended screen till it went dark. 

He was feeling as conflicted as he always did after his phone call with Dream. A mixture of yellows and purples. Happy he was able to talk with his friend again. Glad it seemed to have gone smoothly.

But also worried. Did he say the wrong thing somewhere?  Did he come off as sincere? He sometimes forgot how scared he was of losing his friendship with one of his oldest friends. 

He nearly did once, he didn't want it to slip out of his fingers again.

He let out a deep sigh and put his phone aside. Trying to focus on the happy feelings. This was something good, one of the few things that were going well in his life lately. Or it at least felt that way.

He picked up his brush, but he froze when he gazed upon his painting. For the first time, he seemed to actually see what he had been drawing.  Having snapped out of his routine. What he had drawn. Was a picture of his own hand holding Error’s.

And his nonexistent soul sank into his stomach. Feelings becoming cloudy. 

How many times did that make this? He glanced around the room, seeing other canvases of similar pictures he had been drawing over the last few months. 

He had tried to do something different. It felt like he hadn’t even been thinking of Error at all!

But still. There it was in front of him. One of the many things that he and Error still couldn’t do. Error’s death had really fucked him up. It was like his whole body had been reset. But slowly, he was gaining back what he was lost. Able to give fist bumps to Killer. High fives with Blue and Lust. Everyone…except him. 

Error tried, but it always seemed to burn. The pain only seemed to increase with every single try. It had gotten so bad. He had to nearly beg Error to stop trying. Not liking the way it kept hurting him. It took a while to convince him. But he did listen…that was a month ago.

.

It hurt. They had gone years without touching. They still used a lot of techniques they learned from that time. But none of that compared to the real feeling of Error’s fingers between his own. His solid weight as they hugged. 

The electrifying way it felt as they kissed. 

He missed it…….

He missed it so fucking much. He thought he could live without touching Error again.

But…

Were these paintings, not proof of that NOT being the case?! Everywhere he looked in this room, there seemed to be a picture of them. 

Holding hands, cuddling, kissing. Or touching in some kind of way. 

What if they never could again? Would….would he get bored?! Would he stop caring for Error? He couldn’t do that. That be horrible. Error meant the world to him. Error let him feel all of this. Let him figure himself out, not force him to be something he is not. 

Somehow accepted his soulless state. Didn’t freak out, when he decided to go blank on some days when all the emotions became too much. But yet forcing him to drink if it seems he was depriving himself too much in the other direction. 

Error loved him, and it was terrifying.  

And how was he repaying that love? By longing for something the other couldn’t give. They were fine. They should be fine.  He thought as red anger seemed to consume him. 

He loves Error. He didn’t need the other's touch, it was just a few months with no contact. That didn’t compare to the years beforehand. Even for most of their relationship. Touching had just been a recent thing. 

It wasn’t fair that it had been taken away from them. The red-hot anger spread, chasing away all other feelings.  The picture in front of him came back into focus. 

He grabbed Broomie and slashed at the painting, covering it in a dark ink stain.

There.

That is what he deserved. He shouldn’t have these urges. There was nothing in his chest to conquer them. Yet he selflessly made them. What would Error think if he saw them?

He had to destroy them! He didn’t deserve to stare longingly at them!? Error was going through enough without him taking care of his emotionally stunted boyfriend. And he summons more ink to destroy another painting.

The red-hot anger started changing. Darkening into a sludgy black pool of self-hatred, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Destroying more works in his anger and grief, letting a large pool of ink spill over his studio floor, as he knocked over cans of paint and canvases. All the while sobbing and screaming in angry frustration. 

Screaming, at the monster that killed Error, at the multiverse in general, but most of all himself, for not keeping his promises. 

Of not being enough for his lover. 

Eventually, most canvases had either been painted over with black streaks. Lying face down in the ink puddle beneath his feet. Or he had just broken the canvas clean in two.

All that was left was the biggest of them all. A large frame of both him and Error sitting on a swing near a tree. A work combining their first date, and first time holding hands into a single beautiful scene. 

It had been a work he was proud of. He had shown it to Error. He even surprisingly suggested he should hang it somewhere in his house. But he hadn’t found the perfect place for it yet. 

He looked up at it, a drop of yellow coming in an ocean of black. He raised Broomie above his head, ready to finish it off. When his momentum was suddenly stopped.  

He looked up to see Broomie stuck in a multitude of blue strings. With ice-cold fear, he turned around to see Error standing in the door opening arms outstretched. Strings attached to his fingers and  A look of panic on his face.

 “Ink!?”  

And when he heard that voice, so full of concern. Blue colors suddenly and quickly replaced all the black. The red-hot anger was replaced with regret. The Dark self-hatred still lurking below. But now replaced with deep sorrow. 

It made him sink to his knees and start openly wailing as the color overtook everything. He tried to stop the tears pressing his hands against his face, furiously wiping it. But every sob tore another from his body. 

“S-soory…i am sorry Error…forgive me…please…please”  

He started rambling, trying to get his emotions under control. But instead, he felt his insides turn, and he puked out a large amount of ink. 

When he was done, the overwhelming sensation was gone. But the feelings were still there. His throat hurt, but he was letting out soft hiccups instead of sobs at this point. He looked back up. To see Error hovering close by in front of him. Arms outstretched like he had wanted to grab him. Frustrating, clear in his eyes. 

“S-sorry..”  he started again 

“It’s okay, Kiki…it’s okay…just…let it all out okay…”  

Error took another step closer and he could feel that pulsing heat. That heat seemed to push them apart, like two wrong magnets pushing each other away. He leaned back so that Error would glitch less. Not looking at Error's face, afraid to hurt him further. 

Error let out another frustrated sound. Something heavy fell to the floor, probably Broomie. And he felt Errors strings circle his hands. But the mock handheld just made him feel worse. They were so pathetic, not even able to hold hands. 

“Ink?” 

 He shook his head. 

“Ink please…talk to me?”  

He shook his head harder. 

What was there to say? What could he possibly say that wouldn't sound completely insane? He was gonna lose Error. He was gonna figure out he couldn’t live without the touch and was gonna leave him as he should have ages ago. And he be all alone with his thoughts again. Unsure of whoever even ‘himself was’ 

More strings wrapped around his hands.

 “Come on, Squid”

There was a hint of frustration coming through his voice now.  

Error would realize that it was no use to spend time on him. That in the last few months he somehow had made more progress with his ex, Than with him. That all of this was a lost cause that he never should have - 

Blue strings wrapped around his torso so tightly that he nearly choked. Looking back up and started into Error’s worried eyes. And after a beat or two a realisation seemed to come over Error. 

“Have you been swallowing your paints again Kiki?” 

He blinked up at the other. 

Had he?

He tried to think back.

He remembered maybe once this morning…but that could have been yesterday as well?. He definitely did when he was painting to stay in that calm state he had been in. 

Did he do it afterward? Oh…when Pallete came to the phone, he had to swallow down his excitement as well as his disappointment.  He thought he had just pushed it down…But that would explain why he was feeling so crappy. 

Shit! He might have done it more than once in his conversation with Dream.

“I…didn’t …notice..”

 He said through a few sobs. And Error’s strings gently squeezed him.

“It’s alright…come on… let's get you out of this puddle”  

The strings started to fall away from his body, almost like they had been arms that had been wrapped around him. That thought made him sob again, and he scrambled for the strings before they could completely disappear... Holding them shakingly between his fingers as he  looked up at Error with a desperation he didn’t know under which color to classify 

Error’s look of surprise turned into a sad smile, and he mumbled 

“Should have known you liked being tied up in my strings” 

He laughed wearily at the innuendo. And the strings came back around his torso softly and lifted him up from the middle of the room. Dropping him right below one of the windows. Error plopping down next to him, some space left between them. All the while he stared at the strings connecting them. 

“What happened Inky… “ 

Error asked softly after some minutes of silence in which his sobs finally calmed down, and his emotions seemed to reach another equilibrium 

“I think you guessed already, I swall- 

“What triggered your outburst,” 

He shut his mouth with a click and brought his knees up to his face. Another few minutes of silence

“I saw what I had painted..”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Error tilt his head

“That usually makes you happy.” 

He shrugged, he didn’t want to think too hard about it. He might have puked most of his paints out. But not all. And if he indeed had kept swallowing down his paints, they would still be a murky mess inside of him. And didn’t want to trigger another episode 

He heard some angry glitches, but Error’s voice stayed calm. 

“Did your phone call with Dream affect how you looked at it?” 

He shook his head. 

“No, that went pretty well,” 

He could feel Error’s eyes on him even without looking up, hugging his knees harder 

“Are…Are you upset that it went well?”  Confusion was clear in his boyfriend's voice. 

He wanted to cry again and felt blue trying to come up, He tried to temp it down. 

“Hey, Ink stop, don’t fight your paints…not at this time” 

His hands started shaking, and shook his head.

Of course, Error noticed. Error knew him.

Even when he forgot who he was himself. 

“It’s not fair…” he mumbled softly.

“What…Ink?” Error said confused along with the sounds of soft buzzes of glitches. As another silence fell between them, only filled by his own occasional sob. 

He heard some sounds, not able to place them. So he looked up, seeing that Error had dragged one of the destroyed canvasses closer. There wasn’t much left of it, he had smeared pretty big globs of black ink on them, that was now dripping on Error's clothes.

Error seemed to glitch at them, but paid them no mind, rolling up his sleeve and rubbing the ink away with his arm, Eyes widening as he saw what was underneath. 

Error's head snapped his way, eyes wide. And dragged another painting close doing the same thing to it.

“What…the fuck Ink.” 

He closed his eyes in shame, burying his head back in his legs. He knew Error would hate them. That’s why he didn’t show them, he knew he had been holed up in here more nights than he could count. When Error was with others, or working. He was in here and painted his desires. 

The ones he couldn’t act on. That he promised to let rest. And now Error knew, and he would see how he had gone against his word and…

“If you are angry with me you can just Fucking say so, don’t gotta destroy your passion projects over it” 

His head shot up, and he looked at Error. Who was looking at the painting with a frown. But not an angry one. No…he…he almost looked. Sad? Then what Error had said seemed to land in his scattered brain and he quickly scrambled up to his knees. Error looking up as he did. 

“I ain't angry at you?! …Why?!?!…No..Never, none of this is your fault.”  

Error started at him eyes wide, 

 “Of….course…of fucking course how could I be so fucking stupid”  

“W-what?”  he asked, suddenly panicking. 

The strings around him tighten again, 

“I should have known you would be angry at yourself, somehow you always blame everything that goes wrong in our relationship on yourself” 

His own eyes widened. And Error leaned closer. He could feel the heat again, but he couldn’t look away. Error was staring right at him.  Different colors tried to rise up, but one never could stay, quickly replaced with another. Purple, pink, yellow, blue, green. All of them but he barely noticed only able to focus on his Love

“I thought I had said this before, but if I haven’t let me now. I don’t fucking blame you. For any of this Ink. It aint your fault I died. It aint your fault we can’t touch. It aint your fault that the recovery of it is going at a fucking snail's pace. Got it! None of that is your fault. I don’t fucking blame you, I ain't angry with you. And I am not upset that you miss being able to hold me. I’d be the biggest fucking hypocrite.” 

The strings were getting tight enough that they were probably leaving robe burn marks. But he couldn’t care. Could hardly believe what was going on. 

“B-but” 

“No fucking but’s Ink. Whatever your brain is telling you. It is aint true. I’d kiss you right now to fucking prove it, but I think we both know how that would end” 

The sound he let out was between a sob and a laugh. It be such a disaster. The only time they tried was on the first-day Error returned. And the scream the other had let out, still haunts his nightmares. It kept combining with Error’s death in those dreams. 

He closed his hands over the strings that ran over his palms, Squeezing them tight, tugging at them. Feeling Error tuck on them as well. 

He still felt like crap. And he wanted to believe Error. He so badly wanted to. But he couldn’t seem to get there. There had to be a tipping point. Maybe he didn’t blame him now. But it would not last forever and- 

“Ink. Stop it” Error Seemed to read exactly what was going on in his mind.

“I…I can’t”  he mumbled. “I wanna believe you Error. I really do..But…but..” 

His hands rose to his chest. The part of himself he disliked so much. Where you could see the proof of his soullessness. That part of him that was at the root source of all his problems.

There was another pause and he started at the space between them. He could see Error's knees and realized this must have been the closest Error had been in a month. The thought made him swallow another sob. 

“What would make you believe it.” 

“Huh?” 

He looked up back into Error’s eyes. They held a determined gleam 

“Tell me what you need Ink, What would make you believe my word, so I can say it, or do it. Until I can beat it into your skull, and you never doubt me again” 

“I….”  He paused.

What would make him believe it?  What would make him believe that Error didn’t hate him? That Error would stick with this, with them, Or that He would stick with Error?  Was there such a thing? 

“I don’t k-”  he stopped himself. 

That felt wrong to say. Here he was demanding proof. But he couldn’t think of anything himself. How was Error supposed to prove it then? 

He looked up back at Error’s face. Still looking determined, ready to spring into action. And he wanted to give an answer. 

Why was this so difficult, he just wanted Error to be happy. To be loved as much as he deserves. 

But he loves Error. And Error wants his love. And was he just…not giving it? If he trusted that Error could love him despite his soulless state. Then why didn’t he believe Error trusted that his soulless self loved Error? 

Now that he was thinking about it, it seemed kinda backwards, and selfish. To trust everything Error gave him. But not trust that Error knew that he was loved. 

Soft oranges and yellows finally managed to take hold of his body. Error believed in him. He was conceived it wasn’t his fault. He might not fully believe it himself. But he could believe in Error, that did believe that fact.

Error's face shifted as he saw the realization drawn on his own face. 

“Knock some sense into me from time to time, that is what you need to do apparently” 

Error laughed “I do that for fun any day” 

And he couldn’t help his own laugh. The strings on his hands tugged, lifting them to his face, he got the hint and held one of his own cheek in the way Error would. 

“I Love you, I don’t hate you, and I don’t blame you. For any of this, And I am sorry if I made you think I did”  

He shook his head.

 “It’s okay..I…Thank you…I should have told you sooner. That I was feeling all of this. I could have avoided this mess” 

Error glanced around the room.  

“Nothing we can’t fix”  

He raised a brow bone.

“You, fixing things?”  

Error gave a fake glare, and he felt his colors latch on to the familiar feeling of seeing it

“Says the Protector that destroyed this room”  

But then Error’s eyes turned serious again. Settling back down next to him, if a bit closer than before.  

“We do need to find a way to prevent this from happening, for both our sakes I think..” 

He gave a nod, 

“Yeah only so much can be blamed on me swallowing my ink”  

Error nodded. “Wanna do this now, or wait till the murkiness has passed” 

He glanced around the room, seeing the black ink everywhere. And he thought back to how he felt. That darkness swallowing him whole. It had been an extreme reaction to the swallowing and mixing of already mixed paint. 

As much as he wanted to let it pass and recenter himself.

It was better to deal with this now. Besides everything had mixed up so bad, that at this point he had to go blank to get rid of it all. And who knows what he would remember of this incident afterward. 

So with he sigh, he leaned back against the wall. 

“Now…but I am unsure of where to start” he started, 

The orange and yellows have faded, right now settling on something of a mixture of purple and green. 

Error hummed “Gimme a moment to think then.” 

Error closed his eyes. And he just spends the time listening to the sounds of his boyfriend's static. Admiring the other as the light from the window hit him Making the blue streaks on his face almost seem to glow. 

Error opened his eyes and turned to face him, and he shook his head to get rid of his dreamy thoughts.

“Based on what you said before, were you afraid that me seeing your paintings…would make me hate you?”  

He gave a slow nod  And there was a frown on the other's face. 

“Why?  You’ve drawn me more times than I can fucking count, with and without my permission I might add?  So why now? “

He gave an embarrassed chuckle 

“It’s not the fact that I drew you…but more what I made you do in them” 

Errors eyebrow rose all the way up.

“You have drawn porn of m-” 

“Erotica” He cut him off, and Error waved him off

“Same fucking thing. But besides the point, What I wanted to point out is. You have drawn me in way more “scandalous”- “ 

 He quoted his fingers to emphasize his point. 

 “- positions. Wich, I have told you I didn’t mind as long as you didn’t show them to anyone else”  

He flushed, he had been quite embarrassed that Error had found them. But his Glitch had surprised him. He had been embarrassed sure, but also it also seemed to give Error a huge ego boost. Not that he had needed it. Espeasily when he had seen the one he had made in the hot spring. 

The error had invited him to draw him more afterward. And he had taken him up on that offer on multiple occasions. The fact that he stayed on the shore, while Error was half-naked in the water was perfect for him. 

The thought of taking his shirt off and joining in terrified him. Not wanting such an intimate act to be tainted by a crash, or anything else stupid he might do. No, he quite liked what they got

 Error continued on 

“So…I don’t get what the big deal is with these?” 

He clicked his teeth, trying to find the words to explain himself. He knew why, it felt a lot more stupid than before. But there was a part of him, that was still afraid. He could feel purple and dark blue try to overtake him. 

But he took a good look at Error, who seemed genuinely confused. Remembering the almost sad look he had gotten. His boyfriend didn’t like the clutter all his art projects caused. But he seemed perfectly content to be the main subject of his inspiration. So to have seen him destroy paintings of them…

Yeah, he can see now how that could have looked to Error. He tried to call forth some orange, and with a trembling voice he managed to speak about his fears. 

“I thought…that if you knew…how much I longed to touch you again,  you might be angry with me. I mean…I promised you…that…that when we first began dating.  That if this would ever happen..that it wouldn’t matter”  

He let out a shuddering breath, staring hard at Error's chest, it was easier than looking into the too-knowing eyes

“That no matter how bad your phobia would get. That it would change nothing…I was afraid…seeing this…you realized I had broken that promise” he muttered softly. 

“Because It does matter to me…that we can’t touch…it…it hurts a lot.” It felt scary to admit. 

“Not that I would ever leave you over it! “  He quickly stated, looking up, to see Error surprise face at this outburst, and he quickly looked back at the other's chest.

“But just…it’s a lot harder than I thought it would be” 

The silence between them felt heavy, then a dry chuckle came from Error and he looked up, and saw Error staring down…looking towards him. But not to his face. Just like had been staring at the other's chest. He wondered what he was focussing on. 

“I….forgot about that promise…” 

He blinked surprised and he turned to face his lover.

“You did? But…you made it so-” 

Error held up his hand, and he fell quiet. 

“I am not surprised you remembered. And I ain't surprised I made you promise. Dunno if I just forgot, or if it is a memory my death has taken from me…”  

He felt himself react to the mention of Error's death again. And he saw the other eyes narrow knowingly, But Error continued on. 

“But either way, I think it made you hold yourself up to an impossible standard.” 

Error let out an angry huff at himself, crossing his arms, and frowned deeper.

“I don’t think I would make that promise with the intention that you weren’t allowed to have any feelings about it at all…I just didn’t want it to be a dealbreaker.  “ 

His eyes widened.  

“Of course, it will never be!”

 And Errors eyes met his, seeming ready to rebuttal him but he continued.

“No matter, how much I long to touch, hold, hug, and kiss you again. That you feel comfortable is way, way more important to me. I never want you to feel forced to touch me. So it ain't a dealbreaker at all! Never was, to begin with. I am not the brightest, But I knew who I started dating. And if I ever made you feel like that- “  

“You never did. ”

 He felt his face erupt in a light blush

“It’s the same for me…”

Error mumbled.  Then he saw a shot of anger on his face. 

“ I WANT to touch you as well. Not because I feel forced to or some bullshit. But because I just miss it. I never even thought I could fucking miss it.  And it sucks. “

Error's face gained another emotion, and he realised it was the same as his. Self-loathing. 

“It fucking sucks so much. I just wish I could just reach out and hold your hand again. To just lay together without worry if we accidentally brush shoulders. Even you puking ink in my face as we kiss or just - “ 

“-simply give a chaste kiss?  Pull you along by the arm on our dates? Just be close again in general?”  He interrupted the other softly 

Error eyes widened and then gentled in understanding

 “yeah…” then another dry chuckle 

“Have…have we seriously both been worried about the fact. That we both just miss being as close as we were before all this fucking mess?” 

He tugged at the strings wrapped around his hands 

“Guess so…” 

Error sighed and mumbled disbelievingly.

“How did we manage to avoid talking about this for four months straight?”  

“Dunno…like I said…I thought you’d be angry. And with everything else. I just didn’t wanna add that on top of it?”  

Error let out another deeper sigh 

“And I thought, you must have known my frustration was at the situation, not at you”  

“At least we know now?”

But that didn’t really erase the last few months of pain they both felt. That now felt like had been completely unnecessary and avoidable 

They both just sat in that newfound knowledge, letting it settle in. Part of him was really upset. Part of him was relieved, it was the bigger part. But it couldn’t drown out all the dark colors sadly 

“Speaking of things we avoided talking about,” Error said with a grunt and he knew what was coming. 

“It has been four months, and we haven’t talked about the situation, that got us to this in the first place at all….have we?” 

He gave a nod. It had not been on purpose. They had talked a bit in those first few days. But focused more on both their anger surrounding the whole situation with Errors return. 

Then Error also had to stay a lot in the antivoid. His body clearly recovered much faster there if he was on his own. 

The Balance also had kept him away. He didn’t want it tipping too much either way, but there had been a push in his mind to take advantage of it. To increase his territory. He knew that push. He hated it at times. It could help him make the most wonderful of creations. It could make him do the most heinous things. 

Always trying to get more and more. Pushing him to listen to one more creator request. Check out one more Au in case it needs protecting. Strengthen the defenses of the new Au’s until they are ready to interact with the multiverse. 

He had learned to deal with that urge, learned where his own desires ended and the multiverses began. Most of the time they were the same. He had this role for a reason. He fulfilled it happily. But every job has its downside. 

And that first month the ugly side of it showed up. He had tried to keep the scales balanced in his lovers absence, hoping that it would accelerate his return, then kept it so he could recover. His job was protecting all universes. And the multiverse didn’t seem to enjoy that he wasn’t taken advantage of the power vacuum. He had managed to keep that urge at bay, by exhausting himself. 

Blue wasn’t very happy when he found out.  He made him promise not to tell Error. As far as he knew…Blue hadn’t. 

And after that first month. He had been so focused on figuring out what he and Error could and could not do anymore. How to help. How to just have dates where they both enjoyed themself. He had wanted to focus on the now. Error had seemingly wanted that as well. 

The strings around his ribs tightened softly and it once again reminded him of a hug. 

“Talk to me Ink” 

He let his hands settle against the strings around his ribs, fingertips gliding over them softly.

“It’s…hard..” 

Not because he didn’t remember. Far from it. It was seemingly burned into his brain, just like holding Error’s hand for the first time, or their first kiss. But this was one he rather forget. 

“It sucked..?”  

He started, he could hear the sobs trying to form as the blue paints tried to overtake him like before. 

Error huffed gently.

“If you made an understatement this century, that would be it”  

At the words, a burst of yellow bled through like a dotted pattern 

“Do…do you…remember what happened?” He asked softly.

Error shook his head. 

“Not really? Bits and pieces, but not the whole thing.  But I know what happened”  

“Blue?”  

Error nodded. And he wondered what Blue had said. About how he reacted, but knowing his friend. He might have just kept it at what happened to Error. Probably thought this was a conversation they should have themselves, and he didn’t blame him. 

He felt his bones rattle as much as they could in the strings hold. Following the quivering thread all the way to Errors fingers. Staring at the way he saw the other rub his thumb at the other end. 

If they could touch, Error might have been rubbing his back. Or nuzzled against his skull.  He gave a silent little tug a started with and sigh. 

“...I was too busy helping…I don’t remember who… but I was getting them out of the way, And I turned around and see you get hit with this giant blaster beam. I think I dropped who I was helping, and raced my way over to you. The attack stopped, and instead of attacking back, you just…you just fell right out of the air,” 

He remembered the terror. Error had died before, but he had never seen it. At the time all he knew was that he had been hurt, he wasn’t sure if that beam would have been enough to kill Error. But they had been fighting that stupid gaster blaster beast for a while. It had absorbed most of their attacks. They all had lost hp, and he didn’t know how much Error had left

It had felt like slow motion watching Error fall, the blue of his scarf trailing behind him, body so very limb. Not a hint of his angry boyfriend in sight. 

“I remember checking you as I got closer. You were so low on hp, And the rest of the bar had been pink with karmic retribution. And it was slowly draining the rest. I teleported beneath you, caught you…and we landed. But by the time I could start my healing, you had hit zero already” 

He was hiccuping with sobs again. And the strings squeezed him gently once more. 

“I tried to stop it…I ain't the best healer…but I threw all the intended I could behind it  - “ 

“I know Kiki...  “  Error interrupted him, and he met the other's eyes. 

There was a gentleness in them that he knew was rare. That last time he saw it, it was followed up by a day of cuddling on the couch. His magic ached knowing that can’t happen this time. He wondered if Error thought of the same thing. 

“I felt your magic…I couldn’t see or hear. But I knew you were there.”

 A rosy sort of color rose in his chest. Somewhere between red and pink. It was warm, nowhere near the feelings of sunsets and warm skies he got while kissing. But something similar. 

But icey blue came back as he remembered what had happened next. 

“Y-you turned to dust in my arms….” 

His voice was barely more than a whisper.

“y-you were there…i was holding you..and then slowly…you just..seemed to crumble away…and then…you were…gone..” 

The words barely made it past his teeth. 

He had been begging near the end, screaming for it to stop. For Error to hold on, that he could fix it. But in the end, he just sat there on the ground, covered in dust as the battle continued on around him. 

He had never felt so empty, never been as scared. Not as far as he can remember at least. He knew he got angry, that he single-handedly killed the creature that had taken Error from him. But he doesn’t remember more than the blind grief-stricken rage. 

The next thing he does remember is that Blue and Dream were holding him. Screaming and begging him to stop. His fist was bloody with marrow as he had kept on hitting the ground where he had killed the beast. Head to toe covered in Errors and the giant monster's dust. Bursting out crying in their arms. Until it all became too much, and throwing up the last of his paints. 

It took them several days to coax him to drink them again. Now that he thinks back on it, that might be the first time Dream hugged him since their breakup years before. He hadn’t even done his whole, must try and safe everyone speech… 

God, of course, Dream wouldn’t have given that speech at the time…even if had been more coherent. What an awful way to think about a friend…

Something warm wrapped around his shoulders, he looked up from where he had buried his head into his knees again. Errors strings were dropping Error's long coat around his shoulders, trying to cocoon him in it. 

“Ru…?” he mumbled confused, wiping at the tears on his face. 

“You…always buried your nose in this when we hugged…since I can’t hug you.… I thought I could trick your brain into thinking we were…cause...Fuck it Ink… I didn’t…I didn’t know okay… and I…Fuck..” 

Error's eyes seemed to be burning like he was holding back tears. Even if had let tears fall, the tracks on his face would hide them. One of his hands came up to one of the lapels, pulling the jacket closer to himself.  As Error fiddled with the strings seeming to refuse to look at him. 

“I fucking tried to hold on, I should have been paying more attention. It was such a stupid mistake. But I was keeping track of Blue. Making sure he wasn't hit, And then…” 

Error’s voice stuttered out and let out several beeps, and he saw some error signs fill his eyes. 

He rose to his knees. 

“Error..?”

The minor crash passed, and Error shook his head and continued on, 

“I should have asked Blue for more details. No wonder you have been so all over the place inky. And…fuck just because I had been stupid? I dunno what I would have done if it had been you?…destroyed half the multiverse before I came to my senses. Yet you…you didn’t.  You kept the balance, and have just been trying to make the best of a shitty situation.” 

Error clenched his fist, and the strings tightened again. And he could feel the anger through the magic. 

“ I remember how happy you were when I came back. I thought that at points you were forcing yourself to feel happy. And you might have…but…you did that…to avoid thinking of this right?”  

Error turned to look at him, 

All he could do was nod, and to his surprise, some stray tears fell from his boyfriend's eyes. He wished he could come over and kiss them away. 

“Fuck Dust and Dream man. I thought they were being assholes that day. But this. If I get my hands on Dust, Fuck that scare I gave him last time wasn’t nearly enough punishment.  Oh and Dream? Fucking dreamboat?! He was there! I remember And then He was just gonna fucking yell at you for being excited it returned?! Don’t even get me started!!“ 

His magic was rushing through his body at record speed. Making him feel a little lightheaded. That Error was angry on his behalf even after all this time That he was feeling for him…what he did back then. But had no way to express at the time. It was doing things to him. It made him happy. But he also knows that he didn’t blame either of those two.

“Enough! Error….Enough…don’t go hurt either of them, please. Dust got what he deserved. And Dream and I have resolved this ourselves, you know what was going on with him at the time. It ain't an excuse for what he did. But he wasn’t in the best place. I have decided to forgive him…I don’t want you hunting him down” 

Dreams comment at the time had hurt. It had dug at his own insecurity of his soulless state, as well as his relationship with Error. Luckily blue had stepped in. But Dream had forgiven him for doing much worse. It was hard, but he cared too much about Dream. And even thou their relationship was currently strained. He knew Dream did too. 

The amount of time he had spent helping him in the months after Error’s death attested to that. 

Error was still glaring angrily, And he shuffled closer, where he could feel the warmth of the pushing sensation. Trying to keep them apart.  

“I am not asking you to forgive them…just…please don’t go after them. I won’t even stop you if you decide to grill Dream about it, 'cause I know you will, no matter what I think of it. Just please…” 

Error huffed, still clearly upset. 

“I ain't forgiving them”  

And with that, he knew Error wouldn’t try to harm either of them. And he gave a genuine smile

 “Thank you, Ruru” 

And for the first time that night, he saw Error's beautiful yellow blush covering his cheeks. 

His own chest filled up with a soft yellowish pink. 

“Thank you for telling me about all this Ink, I promise to make it up to you”  The other muttered softly into his scarf, then a bit clearer 

“…How are you feeling now?” 

He swayed a bit back and forth.

 “Pink…”

He replied softly, and Errors blush rose and became more flustered. Error grabbed a tube he used to store papers in,  And then softly bonked him on the head with it, 

He couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him as Error mock yelled. 

“That aint what I was talking about and you know it you annoying Squid” 

He grabbed the tube yanking it out of Error's hands,

“I know~”

And gave a soft bonk against the others head in return, before dropping it and letting it roll away. 

“I am feeling…better, bit lightheaded…must be nearly out of paint…But I think…talking helped. Don’t think it got rid of everything…but don’t think I am gonna do…” 

 He glanced around the room with a sad smile…

“Well…anything like this”  

Error gave a nod, with a little frown. 

“We gotta talk more about this shit, even if we both think we don’t need to. We clearly fucking do. “ 

He nodded in agreement 

“Easier said than done…”  

“Aint that the truth…but I’ll try for you Kiki” 

“And I for you Ruru”  

They both smiled at each other and then he leaned back with a sigh. Feeling his eyesockets fighting to stay open, the colors in him became more muted as he ran on the last fumes. 

“Tired?”  Error muttered settling in as close as he dared. 

He nodded, “Probably for the best if I stay blank for a day, to make sure I got rid of all the sludge.”  

The strings around his torso tightened  like a soft squeeze from Error's arms 

“I remember what to do, and I’ll call Blue if need be” 

He gave another nod and heard the sound of a glitchy portal opening. Error probably getting supplies. But he felt something against his side, opening his eyes again, he recognized the pattern of Error’s crochet blanket.  

He didn’t pull it out often, but it was warm and smelled of him, And it was thick. But Error didn’t lay it over him, No he crumbled it up into a makeshift barrier, and with a soft pull of his strings gently coaxed him against it, while Error laid on the other side. 

Close but not touching. He could feel the pulsing heat again. Error should feel it too, and it was probably aggravating his glitches. But it was hard to fight off sleep, as Error was closer than he had been in months. Mind focusing on the feeling of strings still gently around his torso. On the smell of the warm coat that was being rewrapped around him, cocooning him against the blanket. 

And all he could feel was Error. 

“Love you…” He mumbled.

He heard a bit more static as his eyes fell closed. Knowing he was safe, feeling better than he had in a long while. The last of his paints manifested into a small rainbow flush on his face, coaxing him gently into a dreamless sleep. 

[sapphire-heart-tippy]

Sapphire Heartverse

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Part 6: Heart Beat Heart Ache

Part 7 Part 8

July

Vanilla’s alarm fills his darkened bedroom at 5 am. From under the covers, he lazily reaches to turn it off. Ice gets up and rubs his head, scratching his scalp a bit with his black manicured nails. Off to the bathroom the brunette goes to brush his teeth and hair, wash his face, put his makeup on, and get ready to do the mansion’s chores for the day. Vanilla fluffs up his hair and looks at himself in the mirror, faint dark circles under his eyes, but they go great with the black eyeliner he frequently wears. Vanilla dresses himself in a black leotard, a golden heart belt, a dark jean jacket with the sleeves cut off and some pins and patches he had put on himself. His outfit isn’t complete without earrings and a circlet around his head. Vanilla looks through his jewelry box, places in golden metallic heart earrings and a delicate golden chain circlet around his head. Just when he grabs his purse and is about to head out the bedroom door, he realizes he’s still in his socks. 

“Boots… right.” Vanilla sighs and looks around on the ground for some boots to wear. He sees there’s a perfect upright pair right next to his bed. Hm, I must’ve put them here last night. Ice sits on his bed, takes one foot and– SQUIIIIIIISHHH!!

“Hngh?!?!” Ice’s brow furrows into confusion and frustration. “What the hell?!” He pulls his foot out of the boot, revealing a huge glob of shaving cream coating his sock. 

“Urrrghh… Termite…” Vanilla sometimes allows Tippy in his bedroom to talk, swap music, and occasionally paint each other’s nails. It appears this time, however, Tippy somehow got a hold of Vanilla’s shaving cream without his knowledge. 

“So, Jonny, do you have like… phantom limb syndrome?” Tippy asks.

“Oh, it’s funny you ask that, my friend. Sometimes I can feel my arms and legs every now and then. Though, I think it might just be Dio somehow connecting with me. How I wish I could regain control of one limb for a day and give him what for, aha!” Jonathan laughs. 

“Cool… So, are you magical or scientific or…?” Tippy further inquires. Jonathan opens his mouth, but is cut off by Vanilla stomping into the kitchen.

“You little termite!” Ice huffs and holds his boots, while wearing different ones after a thorough inspection for any more bath products.

“Oop-!” Tippy grimaces and poorly hides himself behind Jonathan on the table. Jonathan turns himself to look at Tippy, then back at Vanilla. 

“What is the meaning of this?!” Ice furiously shows the two gentlemen one of his soiled boots. 

“A shoe?” Jonathan tilts himself with a slight amused smile.

“Salud.” Tippy chuckles. Ice clears his throat loudly, startling Tippy and Jonathan,

“I meant THIS mess.” Vanilla scoops out a glob of shaving cream, “Now why would you do that?!”

“It’s… just a prank, bro?” Tippy shrugs guiltily.

“I’ll show you ‘just a prank’. ‘BRO’.” Vanilla flings the handful of shaving cream at Tippy, who dodges it and it lands directly on a painting of Dio. Vanilla realizes what he had done and covers his mouth with a squeaky gasp. Jonathan and Tippy turn around and gasp as well. Ice rushes over to the painting and pulls it off the wall, 

“No no no no no, do you see what you’ve done, you little hooligan?!”

“What?! ME?! You’re the one flinging beard remover all over the place!” Tippy touches his chest in a defensive manner.

“Now, now you two. I think it’s an easy fix. Just take a wet cloth and wipe the mess away.” Jonathan hops in. He swiftly hops off the table, onto a chair, onto the floor and bounces towards the counter where the sink is, “Right here, good man. Go on!”

Vanilla looks at Jonathan. Then glares at Tippy,

“Looks like, as usual, I have to correct your mistakes.” Ice heads over to the sink, wets a washcloth and begins scrubbing the painting. Vanilla turns around to continue scolding Tippy,

“You ought to really think about the consequences of your actions, you delinquent. I have never seen anyone so disrespectful!”

“Uh, Vanilla?” Tippy’s eyes are wide at the fact Vanilla is scrubbing the painting too harshly.

“The fact you made me deface an image of Lord Dio… Just consider yourself lucky that he told me it’s my job to look after you because if he didn’t, you would’ve gotten your bell rung so fast!”

“Mr Ice!!!” Jonathan is taken aback. Vanilla accidentally punches a hole in the painting. His blood runs cold and his heart stops for a moment. Tippy covers his mouth. Jonathan’s brows are furrowed with worry. Vanilla’s hands tremble and his eyes are wide. 

“I-it’s okay! We can fix it! I know how to fix it!” Tippy reaches his hand out to Vanilla. The brunette’s jaw clenches. I did this… Lord Dio was right… I let my emotions get the better of me in the worst possible times… 

“Vans?” Tippy gently approaches Vanilla. Ice glances at Tippy with a forlorn and mournful expression. “I-I’m sorry… I know how to fix canvases. H-here, let’s take it to my art room, okay?” Tippy reaches for the painting. Ice looks down at Tippy. He could hurt him, he could beat him to a pulp, he could even kill him with his bare hands if he wanted to… but he doesn’t want to. Ice doesn’t want to admit that he has a soft spot for the little rascal. He may talk a big game and sling empty threats every which way, but he means none of it. Vanilla gently hands Tippy the painting, his shoulders relaxing. Ice doesn’t look at Tippy and Tippy can see this. Ice’s golden honey eyes are downcast. The three gentlemen make their way to Tippy’s art room.

“Okay so… Let’s just lay it face down right here. I’ll show you how to repair canvas, because trust me, I have broken my fair share of paintings on accident.” Tippy tells Vanilla. Ice is still quite despondent and only nods. He sets Jonathan down on one end of the cluttered art table.

Tippy ends up fixing the canvas with ease using glue and drying it.

“See? Good as new!” He shows Vanilla. Ice takes the painting and examines it. He says nothing.

“I’m sorry…” Tippy apologizes. “I thought… well, I guess I was only thinking in the moment.”

“Eh…” Ice sighs, “Maybe I just need to work on my aim.” He gives Tippy a small, barely visible but still clearly there, smile. Tippy chuckles lightly as he looks up into Ice’s sunset eyes. Jonathan looks back and forth between the two. 

“Hmm…” Jonathan hums to himself. Mr Ice doesn’t… smile. 

Vanilla catches himself staring into Tippy’s dark cocoa eyes, lips curling into a smile against his will. He snaps out of it quickly, cheeks burning and heart palpitating in his ribcage. 

“I need to get on with the day. We’ve already wasted most of the morning to this nonsense.” Vanilla holds the newly fixed painting close and hastily makes his way back to the kitchen to hang the painting back up. Tippy brings Jonathan back, following Vanilla. 

Throughout the morning, Tippy acts as Vanilla’s little helper when it comes to the mansion’s chores. It’s nice to have a helping hand around… I do enjoy serving Lord Dio solo, however… It's nice to have a bit of the weight lifted from my shoulders. Oh, but I’ll never admit that with my voice. Tippy is carrying a large laundry basket full of Dio’s freshly cleaned clothes. A pair of pants falls and Tippy attempts to pick it back up, while still holding the basket. Ice tries his best to ignore Tippy’s little predicament as he folds some towels for the rest of the agents that live there, including himself and Tippy of course. Ice sighs,

“Are you messing with me again?”

“......Yes.” Tippy struggles to stand. He sets the basket down and puts the pants back in the basket, bringing it to the folding table where Vanilla is at. Ice continues fixing up the linens with an eye roll. With a thud, Tippy plants the large basket of clothes next to the table,

“Whew! Check it out, my muscles are almost as big as yours.” he jokes and flexes his rather pitiful bicep. Ice lightly scoffs and finishes folding another towel,

“Maybe bigger.” 

This astounds Tippy, he was expecting Vanilla to be grumpy as usual so he could press his buttons even more. The two both fold laundry together in a dull silence. Vanilla watches Tippy fold Dio’s shirts, glancing over every now and then. He decides to chime in casually,

“You’re doing that wrong.”

“Hm? Doing what wrong?”

“You’re going to wrinkle them. Here… let me show you how to do it.” Vanilla leans over and delicately folds the button up shirt with precision. Tippy gets a waft of Vanilla’s cologne, deodorant, and a hint of aftershave. It all mixes quite nicely together, a gentle yet pleasantly masculine scent that’s delicate and not too overpowering. All of it tied together with a sweet sugary scent of vanilla. Tippy isn’t even paying attention to what Vanilla is doing, and is too wrapped up in the fragrance of the man in front of him. 

“Do you see?” Vanilla asks and looks down at the young man. Tippy’s heart skips a beat and his cheeks flush. “Were you even paying attention, termite?” Ice puts his hands on his hips. Tippy’s previously stopped heart picks back up, erratically thumping inside of his chest. Ice looks unamused with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, uh… yeah, I got all that.” Tippy looks away and takes another shirt and folds it the exact same way he did it before.

“No, you little hooligan.” Ice takes the shirt away from him and flaps it out. He lays it back on the table and shows Tippy how to fold it properly again, “I’m not going to do it for you anymore.”

“I got it.” Tippy begins folding the next shirt exactly how Vanilla told him to. 

“No no no, you’re doing it all wrong!” Ice refolds the shirt.

“What?! How? I literally did it exactly the way you showed me to!” Tippy pouts.

“Maybe… Or maybe I’m just…” Vanilla lays a soft, plush scarf over Tippy’s head and gently wraps it over the top of his face, “Pulling the wool over your eyes…hm?” 

Tippy pulls the scarf up and looks at Vanilla with bewilderment. Huh?! Another joke?! Who is this guy?! He stares up at Vanilla’s profile. The tall man’s plump lips, glistening with a translucent pink gloss, are daintily curved up at the corners. That’s yet another smile from this rather serious man. Ice glances over at Tippy and his smile disappears, not unhappily, it just fades away quickly. 

“Do you get it? Perhaps it’s a generational thing.” Vanilla’s voice is lower and a bit more quiet.

“No, no I get it. Uh… you made a joke?” Tippy takes the scarf off of his head and sets it down.

“So? First I’m not allowed to call you ‘Tip’ and now I’m not allowed to make a little quip every now and again?” Ice puts away another towel. 

“Well, uh, yeah. You can do all that stuff, but…” Tippy looks to the side, “You don’t… usually. Er, no offense, Lucky Charms, but you’re kind of… mean?”

“Mean? Ah, well… huh!” Ice scoffs and turns his nose up, “Sometimes I have to be a little ‘mean’ in order for these miscreants to listen to a word I say. If I wasn’t some type of strict and no-nonsense, then nobody would follow my orders. I relay information Lord Dio gives me to the others, and so far they take all of what I say as imperative orders.”

Tippy nods, listening to Vanilla. They both finish up the laundry and take it to the linen closets around the mansion and Dio’s to his bedroom. Ice carries the basket of folded clothing items and knocks on Dio’s boudoir door,

“Sire? May I come in?”

There is silence on the other side. Vanilla nods his head over to Tippy, “Hey. Go take the rest of the towels downstairs, we need some in our linen closet… Oh and… I saved the extra soft ones just for us. It’ll be our little secret, termite.” Vanilla gives Tippy another little smile. Dio startles the two by opening the door. Vanilla quickly shoos Tippy away. 

“Ice… come in.” Dio’s voice is deep and inviting. Vanilla humbly enters Dio’s room. The heavy door closes with a mechanical clink. 

Tippy waltzes down the stairs, humming a little, while carrying the extra soft towels Vanilla saved for them. As he gets to the shared linen closet he and Vanilla have, he hears men’s snickering. The snickering turns into howls of hyena laughter. Tippy is startled and quickly puts the towels away. Suddenly the linen closet door slams closed, causing Tippy to gasp in terror. There stands Alessi and Steely Dan, wide devilish grins plastered upon their faces. 

“Hey, kid.” Alessi’s grin widens as he approaches Tippy even closer. Dan has his arms crossed, smirking with ill intent. 

“A-Alessi! D-Dan! Hey, fellas, what’s uh… what’s good? Eheh!” Tippy’s brow begins to sweat as the two men step closer to him. He gives a nervous laugh and a smile to match. 

“You cheated us, boy.” Alessi points at him. Dan pushes Alessi out of the way,

“You lied to our faces, you little shit.” 

“Wha-ha-hat?! Why, I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Tippy crosses his arms and looks up at the two of them back and forth.

“Oh, you don’t remember? Maybe this,” Dan pulls out his switchblade and points it at Tippy’s neck, “might jog your memory.” Tippy gulps and pushes the blade away with his fingers,

“Look, don’t hate the player, hate the game. Right?”

“Your little mind games won’t work on us, you little brat.” Alessi hisses.

“Yeah, not after that shitty stunt you pulled.” Dan pokes Tippy’s collar bone. 

“You’re right. I am so sorry, fellas. I know racing games can be tough, especially when you’re beginners like yourselves.” Tippy speaks. Alessi and Dan look at each other with disdain for him. They both shake their heads as he speaks, “Besides! I won fair and square and I already got your money in the bank so I bid you both adieu.”

“Not so fast, baby boy.” Alessi slams his hand on one the wall, preventing Tippy from leaving. “I don’t think that last night’s game was played fair.”

“That’s why,” Dan leans his arm on the other wall, “we’re here in the first place. You tricked us.”

“You said you never played any racing games.” Alessi points at Tippy.

“Correction, I said I never played F-Mega. Racing games as a whole however…” Tippy begins to sweat even more.

“Give us our money back, or I’ll cut it out of you.” Dan pulls out his switchblade again and this time he presses it against Tippy’s cheek.

“Yeah, cough it up or I’ll make you cough up your own heart, 90’s kid!” Alessi cracks his knuckles and clenches his fist. 

“Did you… use ‘90’s kid’ as a derogatory term?” Tippy chuckles. “I mean technically we’re all around the same age right? Like even though the universe did that whole bloop thing, we’re all on the same page ri–?”

Dan slices Tippy’s cheek, breaking the skin and drawing blood. Tippy yelps and holds his cheek. Alessi picks up Tippy by the shirt and lifts him off the ground,

“So you want to play games, huh?” Alessi throws Tippy to the ground and starts kicking him.

“Haha! Wow, Alessi, you were right. He’s so small that you don’t even need to turn him into a little brat!” Dan cackles. 

“He’s already a little brat.”

Tippy flips over and looks up at the two men standing over him. He takes out Sapphire Heart, they both tut and wag their fingers at him,

“Ah ah ah!” Alessi smirks.

“No stand fighting in the mansion unless you’re in the sparring room. Remember?!” Dan kicks Tippy in the face and he falls to the ground, nose bleeding. As soon as Tippy tries to use invisibreak, Alessi grabs him and pulls him back up,

“The little shit can’t disappear on us if we’re holding him.”

“How do you know that?” Dan sneers.

“Because I caught a glimpse of him and leotard boy duking it out the other day. Nilla got on top of him and he just disappeared along with him. They had a whole conversation about it. Now everyone knows…” Alessi grins and slowly turns to face Tippy. Tippy’s face is pure shock and horror. I can’t get away.

Alessi throws Tippy to the ground once again and kicks him harshly in the back, making him grunt in pain. He is frozen in fear. Alessi keeps his foot on Tippy and presses down.

“Look at him shaking! He’s so pathetic.” Dan points and laughs. Tippy is terrified and starts tearing up. 

“HEY!!!” A loud, low bellowing male voice fills everyone’s eardrums. Alessi swiftly takes his foot away from Tippy’s body. Alessi’s left cheek is met with a pounding fist from Vanilla Ice. Alessi flies to the ground, bleeding heavily from his nose, his cheek swelling up already. Dan soon joins Alessi on the floor, equal facial injuries and all. Vanilla towers over the two men, enraged, a vein popping out from his forehead. His fists are clenched on either side of his body, the fury he feels is unmatched.

“Just what the absolute hell do you fucking assholes think you are doing?! If Lord Dio found out about this, he would have both of your heads on a silver platter! And I would be the one to happily serve that dish to him. If you know what’s good for you, you won’t mess with him ever again. So help me, I will end you both with my bare hands. My stand could swallow you bastards up in less than a second, but torturing you both to death would be more than enough to satisfy my rage.” Vanilla leans over them both and snarls,

“Don’t you EVER pull this shit again, do you understand me?! DO YOU?!”

“Y-yes! Y-yes, Mr Ice! Yes!” The two men stumble over their words. 

“GO. Get the hell out of here! NOW!” Ice hisses as they both clamber over each other to escape Ice’s wrath. Tippy is still on the ground, wide eyed at the beast of a man in front of him, who had just saved his life. Ice points his gaze down at Tippy, noticing his nose is bleeding and his cheek had been cut. He leans down and outstretches his hand for Tippy to take it. Hesitantly, Tippy takes his very large and strong hand. He can feel the warmth and strength of Vanilla’s hand, the veins, and the callouses despite most of his skin being relatively smooth. Ice pulls Tippy up with a jolt and helps him regain his balance. 

“Th-thanks.” Tippy speaks meekly.

“No. Do not thank me. Lord Dio commanded me to guard you because you are an important asset to this team. He knows you can be shaped and molded into something great. If he saw that poor performance back there… he might have just let you get beaten to a pulp or worse.” Ice turns away.

“W-what? But you said–”

“I lied to get them off your back.” Vanilla doesn’t look at Tippy. “I hate to tell you this, but he doesn’t care about you, Tippy. Not really. He doesn’t care about the majority of this crew, but it’s a pleasure and a blessing to serve him.” Ice faces Tippy, “But lucky for you, he cares about me. Why else would he have saved my life? Hm? Exactly. Stick with me, and you will be just fine. Don’t breathe a word of this to sire, do you hear me?” Ice lightly points at Tippy.

“Y-yeah, okay, you got it, Vans.” Tippy nods, “But wait… if he wants you to protect me, why would he just let me die if he found out?”

“Because… I’ve seen it happen before… he will just find another one just like you if you die.” Vanilla speaks softly to Tippy as they both quickly walk down the hallway.

“Wait wait wait! If that’s the case then… why save me in the first place? Why don’t I just take whatever money he gave me and go the hell back home?” Tippy points behind him with his thumb as he trots to catch up to Vanilla. Vanilla quickly answers almost frantically,

“Because–! This is for the greater good, Tippy. You don’t understand that yet, but Lord Dio needs you.” Ice places both of his hands on Tippy’s shoulders and looks him directly in the eyes, “He saw something in you that nobody else could see. Your stand is extremely powerful, he is the antithesis to mine. Lord Dio told me that my stand is undefeatable. Your stand is very similar to mine in every way, minus the void… If my stand is unstoppable, so is yours.” Ice lets Tippy go and gestures his head in the direction for him to follow, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned and patched up.”

“Now hold on a second! What is the point of all this?! I thought I was here for Mr Dio to commission me for art! What the hell is going on here?!” Tippy presses Vanilla for more answers. “You have been training me to use my stand, but for what exactly? What is going to happen?”

“Well?” Tippy asks more forcefully. 

“Trust me, it will all be worth it in the end.”

“I want to go home. I want to go back.” Tippy crosses his arms. Without looking at Tippy, Vanilla speaks,

“Can’t. Lord Dio has your passport and all of your essential information.”

“WHAT?!” Tippy hollers in disbelief.

“He’ll give it back once you finish the mission. Trust me, like I said, it’ll all be worth it in the end.” Ice takes Tippy to his bedroom, rummages through one of his drawers and finds a first aid kit. “Here we go. Now hold still.” 

Vanilla gently cleans Tippy’s face, wiping the blood off of him and making sure his nose is okay.

“This is going to sting a little bit.” Ice delicately dabs a cotton ball coated in rubbing alcohol along the slice in Tippy’s cheek.

“Ow!” Tippy exclaims.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. Hold on.” Vanilla cleans and dresses Tippy’s wound. As Vanilla takes care of Tippy, he gets a warm fuzzy feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Don’t let your face get cut like this again… your skin is very smooth and fragile.”

“Thanks.” Tippy says as he watches Vanilla tend to his wound. Their eyes meet and they both feel that spark jolt their heart into momentary paralysis. Both gentlemen avert their gazes quickly, cheeks burning.

Ice puts a blue bandaid over the cut, “There… it’s your favorite color. I thought, uh, you might like that.”

“Thank you.” Tippy touches the bandaid.

“Try not to mess with it too much, let it heal.” Vanilla holds both of Tippy’s hands gingerly to prevent him from fidgeting with his injury. I like the feeling of his small hands in mine. I don't know why this feels good, but it does. I need to protect him like Lord Dio says. Perhaps I’m just very passionate about my job. It feels good to protect Tippy. Ice softly runs his thumbs over Tippy’s hands, sending what feels like volts of electricity throughout Tippy’s body. His heart pounds so loud that he’s worried Vanilla might hear it. 

Why am I just letting Vanilla hold my hands like this?! Why is he holding my hands like this in the first place?! Why do I like it?! What’s happening here?! 

The two gentlemen are just staring at one another’s hands intertwined with the other’s. They both look at each other once again and pull their hands away and chuckle awkwardly. 

“Hey. Follow me, I have some things to teach you, termite.” Vanilla gestures for Tippy to follow him.

In the sparring room

“I don’t have a choice but to fight for whatever Mr Dio tells me to… do I?” Tippy gives Vanilla a defeated look. 

“I’m afraid so… it’s for a good cause. I don’t want to lose everything, Tippy. Without Lord Dio…” Ice looks at his hands, “I would be nothing… you know that. You know that everything good that has happened to me is all his doing. I can’t afford to lose that.”

Tippy looks up into Vanilla’s golden honey eyes with sorrow. He sighs and nods,

“I understand…” Tippy inhales and puffs out his chest, “I’ll help you all out. To a new world.” He stretches out his hand for a shake. Ice nods and shakes Tippy’s hand,

“To a new world.” They both shake hands, “Now, here’s what I need to teach you.” Vanilla demonstrates a multitude of ways to defend himself against an attacker who is twice his size. He teaches Tippy weak points and how to escape certain grips, just in case something happens like that again and he cannot use invisibreak. 

“Remember what I taught you, termite.” Ice touches Tippy’s shoulders lightly and looks down at him. Tippy inhales and they start sparring. Ice grabs Tippy, but he manages to escape. Vanilla attempts to pin Tippy to the ground, but Tippy shoves Vanilla away and uses invisibreak. Ice waits for Tippy to reappear.

“Very good. Next time I won’t go so easy on you… and neither will your attackers, so remember that.” Vanilla tells Tippy. “Nobody taught you to defend yourself without a stand, termite?”

Tippy’s victorious smile turns into an upset face of defeat. He shakes his head,

“I was only taught to use my stand… I always thought that if somebody were to try anything again then I would just disappear.”

“Again?” Ice’s eyes are filled with empathy for Tippy. He knows what he meant by that. They both have an intimate conversation about Tippy’s past and how he got his stand after something horrible happened that changed him permanently. 

“Like I told you, Tip…” Ice leans down and speaks softly, “Stick with me and nothing bad will happen to you. That is my promise to you.” 

Tippy’s doe-like cocoa eyes brim with tears. He leans his forehead on Ice’s chest and sighs. Vanilla is stunned and doesn’t really know what to do. He looks around for potential witnesses to the act of tenderness towards another person… and gently wraps his arms around Tippy. He rubs his back and feels Tippy reciprocate the hug. Tippy softly weeps on Vanilla’s chest, leaving some tears behind.

“Hey, no, don’t– let’s not…”Ice sighs and rubs the back of Tippy’s head, “It’s okay…”

They both continue to hug for a little while. I could get used to this… it feels good. Vanilla allows this hug to go on for a lot longer than he was initially planning. 

Soon after all the chores are finished, Vanilla and Tippy decide to hang out that night in Vanilla’s room. They end up falling asleep on opposite ends of Vanilla’s bed at 2 in the morning.

With a content sigh, Vanilla thinks to himself, yep, I could definitely get used to this… I hope Tippy never goes home…

To be continued…

[ardenssolis]

@assortedsnacks​ said (inbox):

' p-pharaoh! pharaoh ozymandias! '  all stiff fluster; a resigned indignity. the sculptured glob of chocolate in ritsuka's hands resembles... well, maybe, possibly, vaguely something like a feline, if one squinted hard enough. bashful, the master can only laugh. ' now that i think about it, it might have been presumptuous of me. i was worried that after so many years, you might have gotten bored of chocolates, or plain ones, at least. so i thought i'd take it on myself to try something different! only, um, no matter what i did, they always ended up coming out like this. before i knew it, it was already valentines, but i tried to pick the best one of the bunch, really! '  even playing what felt to be a gamble, wondering if he would face ozymandias's wrath for such an aesthetic affront, or the pharaoh's booming hilarity, or both, his clumsy attempt had to be better than leaving the noble with nothing. ' so, you know - happy valentines! and thank you for everything as always! '

     HOH? AN OFFERING TO be presented to him on this chocolatey day? To be expected, of course, yet that did not prevent his eyes from lighting up anyway with intrigue. Nevermind the fact that the chocolate that Ritsuka had prepared looked…questionable. It was the fact that they had taken the time out of their very, very busy (they had to have been with all the many Servants in this building) day going about handing these treats out to the others. Ozymandias wouldn’t have minded if they had forgotten about him in the chaos of it all and would have forgiven them accordingly for their absentmindedness in not coming to him first and foremost. However, none of that really mattered when they were here, did it? ❝It is impossible to grow bored with these little confections.❞ He leaned forward a little to get a better look at it, hands resting upon his hips. Chuckling at the rest of their words, his lips curled into an amused smile, golden eyes shifting from that misshapen blob to the other.

     ❝You overthink things. We kings accept all offerings given to us, especially those that were painstakingly made by our subjects. I would have been content even if this was the same exact thing you had given me last year, and before that – s on and so forth.❞ For all his arrogance and bluster, he, at least, could not deny his fondness for homemade gifts. There was thought put into that as well as one’s time, and as someone who was often given the most expensive of things for the sheer fact that they were expensive, this was truly what he preferred in the long run. It was more intimate. Honest, even. Reaching out, he plucked that chocolate from Ritsuka’s hands, examining it curiously right before taking a bite. Ozymandias chewed slowly, allowing that flavor to spread across his time as he hummed softly; testing everything to see if it was just the right amount of sweetness.

     ❝DELICOUS!❞ he soon proclaimed without warning, the walls practically shaking beneath the power of his voice. ❝You have outdone yourself this time, Summoner. I think this taste even better this year than the last. Did you change anything? It matters not. Such is exactly to my liking and befitting for a king as grand as I. Not to mention the shape at which you made it is pleasing despite its ambiguous shape!❞ He held the rest of that chocolate high, continuing on with his speech. ❝Such effort should be rewarded! None can say that the Sun King is stingy with his own gifts! Come! We shall fly across the back of a sphinx – in a simulation, naturally, but it shall be grand regardless.❞

[guro-senpaii]

Lying defeated on the ground, beaten and exhausted. Scaramouche huffs and pants; his mind swirling with all the possibilities in how he could be punished for all he has done.. Would he finally face divine punishment? Would the traveler bring him back to the Shogun to finally be destroyed?.. Laughing to himself; he thinks. Maybe it's best to be completely destroyed, he knows better than anyone else what he is capable of..

What he hadn't expected though, was the moment his eyes fluttered back open, his gaze meeting with a pair of golden orbs. He sucked in a breath; his breath hitching as his eyes widened, shaken by what he was seeing. He expected anger, hatred, sadness, anything but.... A smile, a soft, forgiving smile worn by the goldened eyed traveler who slowly knelt down, her fingers grazing his cool, sweat dampened skin. 'No- don't look at me like that... Don't you dare pity me!' he had thought to himself; he wished to speak these words directly to her, but they died on his tongue when he felt her gloved thumb gently brush away tears he had not been aware he had shed, was he crying? Scaramouche, the Balladeer No.6 of the Fatui harbingers, crying? Absurd! Absolutely.. absurd... He swallowed hard, the tears he was now aware of beginning to fall in larger quantities- his chest tightened and his throat burned..

He didn't deserve forgiveness, he didn't deserve this kindness- not after all he had done, after all the pain he had caused and put others through.. Not after trying to kill this goldened eyed angel more times than he could count! She had won, she had defeated him and she had every right to end his life right here right now, but... All she did was gaze down at him with nothing but forgiveness in those golden pools.. She was gently caressing his cheeks and soon brushed the wet strands of his hair out of his face. With a smile she whispered to him "even you, are worthy of salvation and forgiveness... even you are worth saving.." he was speechless, staring up at her in disbelief of what he had just heard leave her lips.. He deserved forgiveness...? He... Before he could process what was happening, the tears that were rolling down his cheeks became more persistent, all the emotions he had worked so hard to bury deep down within himself threatening to spill over and burst and he no longer had the strength or energy to fight it, all he could do now was allow the damn to break and so he did, he laid there in shambles, falling apart as broken sobs left him, globs of thick tears streaming down his cheeks. And the golden eyed angel before him, simply allowed him to break, her fingers raking through his hair in a gentle, comforting gesture..

Willing to guide him to salvation.

[iliveoffofcoffeeandspite]

Questions for the stars: Zero.

Set in JJBA Part 5 __________________Spoiler warning___________________ a..fanfic? centering around my OC, Evelyn Greathouse, in an everyone lives AU.

TW: Mentioning of Suicide

Another day dipped into melancholy. Another day of sitting on her chair, staring at the file Marco gave her at her request. He didn´t want to- but after seeing just who it was about, he gave in. Marco was a pretty nice cop, Eve had to admit. The file was staring at her, despite it being neatly placed on her table. "...I wonder what you felt, mom.", it was a question that had plagued her, the last few days. The way the soman died was cruel. Since Gabriel and her met up and had a little..talk it just wouldn´t leave her brain. "I was just beginning to feel at home here...", and now she couldn´t live with the thought of spending her life as a tool here, in Passione.

"This mansion is fucking huge!", Narancia and Mista were the ones most ecstatic about it, Eve noticed. She was. too, but not that much. Not to the point of immediately trying to enter and then trying to choose a room- Evelyn wasn´t really comfortable with leaving her home and in her eyes, leaving a safespace she so carefully crafted, that took so much work...But the group had to listen to the Don´s request. And at the end of the day, managing the group would be easier like this. Giorno didn´t quite show it (aside from a stronger glow in his eyes) but he was happy. She knew. Even if the teenager was good at hiding his reactions, this was...well, the first time she really saw him smile. Genuinly, not just because he got what he wanted in the end or out of relief. She got the largest room (or she wouldn´t have budged, she needed that stuff to work- a lot of work meant a lot of paper and that also meant a lot of space.

To die for a dream that wasn´t hers. To do exactly what the Capo that was responsible for all this told her to do. Not even her death would be her own. The urge to run away was so much stronger now. Despite Giorno warning her not to side with anyone else.. "He probably doesn´t know..If he did, it would be cruel to expect me to stay.", She held onto that thought, that her new boss didn´t. It was conforting in a way- there was always the underlying fear that he´d use that to manipulate her, like he manipulated other people. He did everything to get closer to his "golden Dream", as Bucciarati called it. ...Evelyn´s eyebrows furrowed. Did Bucciarati know? There was always a possibility, but... He didn´t involve himself into other people´s business unless it was about recruiting them. He hadn´t recruited her. She felt the need to simply barge into Giorno´s office and explaining that she´d take leave now. Would he understand? Probably not. He would do everything to reach his dream. Even if it meant sacrificing people´s happiness. "I´m sorry...I don´t have enough resolve to see it through." It wasn´t even her dream. And working for the people who killed her mother...Besides, that man was still dillydallying around, happily. With no consequences. If she would kill him right here, right now, she´d still suffer them. And it would be the easy way out for him, as well. "what do I do now..?" Live, struggling with a guilty conscience, saved up anger, or leave? Even if she killed him, the anger wouldn´t leave. "I´ll always stay like this.", always upset, always frustrated, always feeling guilty and always feeling like she had something to make up for. Which she had, considering the facts.

____________________________________

The attack was truly beautiful. Little blades, spread out like cherry blossoms. "You won´t escape this one." Evelyn could. She clearly could. Just jump up, and she would be out, safely. Instead her eyes widened. :"Evelyn!":, she didn´t know who it was. Probably Abbacchio. Or Bucciarati, those two were the only ones fighting together with her. A remnant of Ouroboros, their enemy organization, they´d defeated. He was nothing big, just a big glob filled with rage, hatred and greed. He had tried to bring back drugs into Napoli, despite Giorno banning them all (that ban had been active for about a month now). If anything was a problem with their enemy, it was the amount of control he had on his stand, not the power. Plus, the range as well. But he wasn´t troubling- not after everything the gang went through together. Or both? She wasn´t paying attention. The cherry blossoms looked beautiful as they were reflecting the light. "I won´t side with anyone else, Giorno.", a mere whisper, before she opened up her arms and simply let herself fall, feeling the blades picking and ripping away at her. It was beautiful. To be able to see this before she´d die. If she could, Evelyn would have opened her mouth to say something. She didn´t. Her body simply hit the floor. Fulfilling the only wish she had left. To make her death truly hers. to decide how she´d depart from this world.

_______________________________

But she never did. the moment she opened her eyes, pain shot through her entire body. Someone blonde was kneeling above her. "Eve? Eve!", her vision was still blurry. The pain made her pass out- it was simply too overwhelming. The next time she woke up, she found herself on her bed. In the mansion. "what were you doing!?", well, Bucciarati was incredibly upset with her. Giorno looked paler than usual. Was he trembling? It looked like it. "...why..?",it came out as a whisper, more than anything. "You were the one insisting that everyone had their right to die however they wanted. But now I´m here. Riddle me that, Bucciarati." "I ASKED YOU WHY!". Seeing Giorno yell was rare, but it happened. And it did, right now. "Why not?", that answer irritated him more, Eve saw. "Why would I want to stay here?" Giorno looked directly her eyes, searching for an answer. "see that file on the desk?", Evelyn continued. "well, get it.", the Blonde stood up, eyes widening for a mere second at what he was seeing. "that´s your-", Evelyn just nodded. "it is. Now. Tell my why I should stay here, and what my way out it." There was none. Bucciarati looked to the side, Giorno´s eyes were glued to the file. The emeralds that were usually glowing, suddenly had gone dark. Really, really dark. They knew there was no way out. Evelyn groaned, in an attempt to turn. "you guys are cruel, really... Guess I´ll stay here for a while.". With the gang. Giorno would probably make sure she wouldn´t be able to stay alone for a while on missions. Not when she´d pull something like this out of the blue. The door creaked, a few other heads peeked in, probably alerted by Giorno´s enraged scream earlier. "she´s okay, as far as I can tell...", Abbacchio simply turned away and left, a rather grim look on his face. Narancia looked as if he´d been crying and Mista was frustrated to say the very least. Pesca had a look on her face she couldn´t quite decipher. A mix of sadness, anger and confusion, probaly. Gabriella was the first to storm in, crying. Eve was pulled into a firm hug, furrowing her eyes at the slight pain. The next thing was a string of questions, apologies and what not. It made her want to run away from the situation. This was way more awkward. Evelyn was supposed to play the headstrong and resilient older sister, yet she was here. The concern for her was cute, though. She felt sorry for the girl- She was the last person Eve wanted to hurt. Finally, she managed to save up enought strength to return the hug, mumble a small apology.

[jupyt3r]

Brilliant

After defeating the netherbrain, Tav returns with Astarion to the Underdark to deal with the consequences of releasing 7,000 hungry vampire spawn after stopping the rite of ascension. Astarion learns to navigate a complicated relationship with his siblings in the absence of Cazador's influence. Tav tries to show him that he's worthy of her love.

Chapter 1: Sunburn

Astarion flinched as Tav spread the cool balm across his cheek. He sat in front of her on the edge of the ornate bed in their room at the Elfsong. His skin, for so long unused to gentle touches, prickled at the soft motion of her fingers as she soothed them over his burns. He shifted his focus to the dust motes dancing lazily in the evening sunlight streaming in from the window, which he'd insisted Tav open (much to her disapproval) despite it being the cause of his burns in the first place. After all, this would be the last chance he'd have for a while to see the city – his city – before they departed. He wanted to remember it the way he could see it now, peering through the curtains: bathed in golden light, which glimmered off the rooftops and waters of the Chionthar beyond, like magic.

“ Tch, " Tav fretted as her hand clutched his jaw and gently guided his head back from where he'd unintentionally leaned around her to better view the window. “This is going to peel badly in a few days when the blistering goes down. We're lucky it wasn't any worse."

“Yes, darling, lucky for you. We both know how much you’d miss this pretty face," he smirked, meeting her eyes. Of course he couldn't see his reflection to know to extent of the damage (perhaps a blessing in this instance), but it felt horrible, so he assumed he must look a sorry mess.

"Not what I meant,” she replied, playfully swiping a glob of balm on the tip of his nose before screwing the tin shut and packing it along with the rest of their effects. He rose from the bed and snaked his arms around her waist to pull her against him, leaning down to retaliate by rubbing his nose off on her cheek, then continuing lower to place an appreciative kiss on her neck. He lingered there a moment, inhaling her warm scent before straightening and releasing her. His hesitation had not gone unnoticed.

"Why don't you feed? You'll need energy for the journey, and to heal.”

"A tempting offer, my love, but I'll be alright. You need your strength as well.” He still couldn't believe that she could willingly offer herself to him, despite all they'd been through together. Whatever selfless yet stupid motivation had led her to propose the idea that first night in the face of all self-preservation, he'd never understand. She'd have gotten herself killed if he were in less control of his more monstrous impulses.

Proving him right, she turned around to face him, shifting her hair and exposing her delicious , fragrant jugular. “Come on, Star… you’ve barely left this room in days. I know you must be starving.”

His pupils widened and he swallowed, staring at her neck. She was right. Ever since the business with the netherbrain and the regrettable death of his tadpole, and with it, his time in the sun, he'd been sulking at the Elfsong, putting on appearances only to bid farewell to their companions as they departed for their next adventures: Wyll and Karlach to Avernus; Lae’zel to the Creche; and Shadowheart with Isobel and Aylin to the Selunite enclave. Only Gale remained, and he intended to stay and explore newfound purpose rebuilding the city. As for Astarion and Tav, they were about to leave for the Underdark, to take on the task of leading 7,000 angry vampire spawn- a small feat which posed no dangers at all, surely. It was quite the journey to get there, one which would be made all the worse if he was hungry. And he was hungry.

He leaned in and closed his eyes, letting the siren call of her blood overwhelm him. “You're sure?" he whispered against her soft skin, his voice deep and breathy. Betraying his desire.

“Yes," she answered, bringing her hands to tangle in his hair, holding him there. He needed no more encouragement. Sinking back down to the bed, he pulled her in to straddle his thigh as his fangs pierced her neck.

Gods, she tasted heavenly. After two centuries of dining on nothing but vermin, it was sometimes all he could do to resist her offers. What had he possibly done to deserve her? Reflecting briefly on his long and rather tragic life, he concluded that he didn't. He set his mind to the impossible task of stopping, determined not to sap too much of her strength before their journey. She'd bear it in quiet bravery, like always, and he didn't want her to have to. He pulled back, savoring one last taste as he trailed his tongue up her neck where the wounds had dripped. She shivered and pressed her head against his chest, letting the dizziness pass.

“You are perfect. Every time."