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#a quaint little village <3
happyheidi · 1 year
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quiet fishing village ♡
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dr3c0mix · 10 months
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could you ever try writing a poly between 3 vampires and male reader? like, reader is a painter and the vampires ask him to paint them something while in their house, and is just.. evolves. sorry if it doesn't make sense
Love Bites
Poly!Vampires x Male!Painter!Reader
CW: implied kidnapping, murder, implied vampirism
holy shit this is like one of the chillest fics ive made so far :0 anyways enjoy the funny vampire men !!
🌙 You always had a knack for finding beauty in everything, from the calming dance of raindrops amongst the smell of petrichor or the lovely reds and oranges of the fall when the leaves withered.
🌙 It was very handy considering what you did for fun.
🌙 You loved to paint, anything and everything you saw was inspiration for you. After a long day of delivering bread and pastries to the people in your village from your bakery, you would run up to your room and continue on the latest masterpiece you were working on.
🌙 Everyone in the village loved your work, many of them paying you for a painting of their own.
🌙 Life was simple and calm, and you wouldn't have it any other way.
🌙 But life decided fuck that bullshit.
🌙 Rumors and whispers filled the streets of the town, it wasn't like the usual talk like someone's daughter getting married or the like, it was much more...unusual.
🌙 News spread from neighboring towns of coffins being found unearthed and opened, shadowy figures roaming around in the late hours of the night, and bodies being found in the morning, drained from their blood.
🌙 It was a terrifying thought, but you didn't dwell upon it, you weren't the type to believe such rumors so easily, and yet a feeling of uneasiness lingered within your soul.
🌙 Your town was no longer the vibrant, happy place it once was before. Windows that once had lovely flowers and laundry lines hung on them were shut day and night, the busy streets you once traversed were covered in a gloomy fog. It really was like an evil has brought itself to your home.
🌙 Or should I say evils?
🌙 In the midst of all the tension, 3 men came to your town. Eccentric was an understatement when describing them, it was like the horrors and whispers of death and murder didn't faze them a bit.
🌙 Even so, you were happy to see something other than terrified faces and panicked expressions.
🌙 You greeted them politely during a cloudy day and noticed how covered they were. One had a large hat on, the other draped in a black cloak and the last holding a parasol that shrouded him in darkness.
🌙 "Good afternoon to you too, me and my friends here are just visiting this quaint little village, how uhm...calm..it is here..hah.."
🌙 The cloaked one chuckled whilst looking to the empty streets.
🌙 "My, my! Aren't you that famous painter I've been hearing about! I'd love to get a painting done from you, but it seems everyone here is quite busy with other things.." says the one in the hat.
🌙 "Oh no! I'd love to paint for you! Come, let's talk more in my bakery. Painting is more of a secondary job for me." You guide the men to your home as you hear the cawing of crows overhead.
🌙 Days pass and you grow closer to the men. You learned that their names were Viktor, Garrick and Silas.
🌙 Viktor had long, silky hair the color of raven's feathers. His eyes shone like two rubies in the dim light of the lanterns you lit around the house. He wore a black cape which hid a wine-red vest.
🌙 He was a gentleman and had a love for poetry. He would recite his favorites to you as you painted next to him. One interesting thing you learned was that he's scared of mice. 'Dreadful things' he calls them, you found it quite adorable once when you two were talking and he suddenly squealed and pulled his feet up at the sight of a small mouse crawling passed your floors. His face, although still as pale as the moon, turned into a light red.
🌙 Garrick had messy, dark hair. His fingers were always adorned with golden rings, and he wore a somewhat stained white, ruffled shirt, you can't tell what it's stained with though. His eyes were a deep purple, one of them covered by his locks. He was unusually flirtatious with you. You joked how he should be courting women, not a baker's son such as yourself, but he whined and cooed how irresistible you were to him, why wouldn't he be interested in a boy like you!
🌙 Silas is a bit darker skinned than the others, who were unusually pale. he had round black glasses and silver hair under a dark hat. Over his shoulders draped a coat, you weren't able to decipher what he kept under it, only that they were vials of strange substances. His eyes were the color of amber, like the hues of leaves that fell in the autumn. Rather shy, he was, always looking away from your eyes whenever he talked with you. He had an interest in flowers, always handing you one whenever he visited for inspiration purposes of course...
🌙 You wouldn't notice it at first, but they've gotten quite a liking to you, protective even. They would always check up on you, if you've been eating, who you've talked to today, things like that.
🌙 It was only until they scared off a young lady for making small talk with you that you started to notice something was off about them.
🌙 When you heard the next day her body was found dead with bite marks on her neck and drained of her blood, you started to worry.
🌙 You started avoided them after that, making excuses to not invite them over to your bakery, walking the other way the moment you see them down the street. They noticed your strange behavior towards them and knew something was wrong with you.
🌙 They didn't buy your silly act at all...
🌙 "You just had to leave the body there, didn't you?!"
🌙 "What? It's fun seeing them all scared and panicky!"
🌙 "Hahah yes but uhm...there's no food out anymore..."
🌙 You heard their voices by your door during the late hours of the night. The feeling that your new friends were not what they seem festered in your mind, but your kind nature overrode your fear and you opened your door.
🌙 "Hey! It's dangerous out there! Do you want to be gutted or something?"
🌙 The 3 of them were walking along the moonlit streets when they heard your voice.
🌙 "A-Ah! Yes! Uhm...of course, excuse us, we just came back from uh..."
🌙 "A pub-"
🌙 "A pub! Yes! And we've somehow lost our way! Could you, by chance, let us stay the night? Our inn is particularly far you see.."
🌙 You unlocked your door and let the 3 gentlemen in, going to the kitchen to warm up some bread and tea for them.
🌙 "Make yourselves at home! Apologies for the mess, I been really busy lately..." you say sweetly. Viktor nods with a smile and they all sit down, whispering softly amongst one another.
🌙 As you wait for the tea to warm, you get a good look at the 3 men.
🌙 Pale skin, pointed ears, not to mention their eyes, they have to be. You had to stop yourself from gasping when Garrick laughed, revealing his sharp fangs. Fear bubbled in your stomach once more until you heard the whistle of your kettle.
🌙 After giving them their tea, you feigned a yawn and told them you were off to bed, giving directions to the spare quarters before going in your room and waiting by your door for any sounds, grabbing a broken paintbrush you accidentally snapped, a makeshift wooden stake..
🌙 You then hear the men climbing the stairs, a conversation being exchanged between them.
🌙 "Shame we must drink from him now, he was such a darling though.."
🌙 "Oh, but I believe I'm quite well off with those wonderful treats he offered us. It's a mystery how someone as wonderful as him isn' married yet..."
🌙 "Unfortunate as it is, I don't think it would be in our best interest if the boy lives.."
🌙 Your heart pounded faster as you heard them talk about you. Your hunch was true, these men are the demons that have ravaged your town. You scrambled to your bed as you hear them walk to your room.
🌙 Your door creaks open as you grip your blanket tight. Footsteps approach you as you feel a dip in the bed.
🌙 "I can hear your cute little heartbeat darling~ I know you're awake~" You hear Viktor purr, tears start to well up in your eyes as they open.
🌙 A hand caresses your cheek and brushes your hair away from your face. You brace yourself as you feel Viktor's cold breath near your neck. You dare not move lest the beast lying next to you devour you whole.
🌙 "Do we have to Viktor?" You hear Silas say in a sorrowful tone.
🌙 "I'm with Silas with this one, why can't we just..I don't know, bring him with us?"
🌙 Viktor pulls back as he pauses for a moment. You could hear the smirk on his face when he chuckles. "Actually, that's not a bad idea Garrick.."
🌙 The next morning, the townspeople saw that your front door was wide open, a window or two was broken and paintings that hung on every wall was gone. There was no sign of you. The only thing that remained was a stain of blood on your bed and claw marks on the walls of your bedroom...
oOOoOooooOo cliffhanger or whatever :00000 part 2 soon !! sorry this one took so long, i had a hard time with the story and such..
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And as usual, gay men doodles &lt;3
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theawfuledges · 5 months
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… it’s smut, okay. it’s just smut.
inspired by #3 from this prompt list: “Please kiss me.”
MINORS DNI
your mouth as tender (sanji x gender neutral!reader, one piece: live action)
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The rhythmic thump of his knife slicing through fresh vegetables serves as a much needed distraction while you sit perched at the island, a book cradled in your palms. He can’t help but to notice how little of the words you actually seem to be reading, your eyes barely moving about the page - preoccupied, it seems, by the movement of his hands, flicking over the brim of your book to watch them as he preps for dinner.
Sanji keeps a careful eye trained on his cutting board, even as the weight of your gaze prickles along his nerves. He wonders where your eyes might alight next - on his fingers, wrapped securely around the handle of the knife; on his wrist, muscle flexing as he slices through springy zucchini skin and earthy smelling mushrooms; on his forearm, bared by his rolled sleeve and dotted with perspiration. He wonders what you’re thinking about as you watch him - the fragrant strew beginning to bubble atop the range? The fresh herbs waiting to be minced and added to the pot? 
Judging by the hitch of your breath as he reaches slender fingers across the counter for a plump carrot, Sanji doubts it.
He suppresses a smile as he sets about peeling one carrot, then another. It’s the first time you’ve been alone - truly alone - in quite some time, having taken longer than expected to reach the next island on your journey to the Grand Line. The Going Merry was a fine ship, to be sure, but with six members of the crew onboard, it could be difficult to steal a few moments away from the eyes of the other Straw Hats. 
Luffy and the others were nowhere to be seen now, though, having disembarked and disappeared into the quaint little village upon which the Going Merry had made port. Nami had invited you along, intent on enjoying this latest stint on solid ground, but you’d waved her away with a flimsy excuse that had left the navigator smirking knowingly, and that was that.
The ship was empty save the two of you, and would remain so for a few hours yet. Sanji’s stomach warmed at the possibilities, and sneaking a glance at you through the gaps in his fringe only served to fan the flames. You were staring intently at your book, your fingers jittering nervously along the spine - unable, it seemed, to remain still for very long. 
The tension that had been slowly building between you while the rest of the Straw Hats prepared to disembark had grown thick enough to cut with a knife. Sanji could feel it in the tips of his fingers, in the hollow of his throat, in the depths of his chest - the urge to drop his knife and reach for you instead, to crowd you against the island and catch your lips in a kiss, to taste you, for as long as he was able.
A soft touch along his back serves to clear the fog from his brain, though it’s swiftly replaced with muted shock as your arms twine around his waist, fingers clasping loosely just above his navel.
“Darling?” he questions, his voice thick with wonder. Your body is a line of warmth against his spine, your chest tucked against his back and your brow resting between his shoulder blades. This close, he might be able to catch your heartbeat, if he closed his eyes and listened for it. He wonders if it’s become as quick as his own.
“Sorry,” you murmur, the rush of your breath leaving behind a spot of warmth on his shirt. “Is this too distracting?” 
It certainly is, Sanji thinks bemusedly, feeling his pulse quickening as you breathe softly against him, fingertips brushing against his stomach. Even through his clothes and apron, your warmth is intoxicating. 
“Not at all,” he breathes, though his next knife cut is anything but polished. It’s difficult to focus on little else but the warmth of your chest and the weight of your arms wrapped around him, but Sanji continues chopping veggies as though they’re not at the forefront of his mind, as though heat isn’t spilling through his blood with each gentle exhale you make.
That is, until your fingers slip from each other and spread out along his stomach, blunt nails pressing gently against his navel. His knife slows at the ticklish touch, a huff of breath escaping from his lips before he continues, body primed for your next move.
Your palms come next, pressing flat against his stomach and dragging gently against his apron as they rise along his chest. They’re warm, leaving behind a trail of heat in their wake, and Sanji sucks in a soft breath as they linger against his shoulders, hesitate for a moment, and then dip beneath the edges of his apron. 
Trapped beneath his apron and shirt, your hands are spots of heat against his pectorals, fingernails tracing a path along his sternum, drifting teasingly over his abdominals, and dipping dangerously low against his navel before they begin the long, delightful journey all over again. 
“Now it’s distracting,” Sanji huffs around a laugh, allowing his knife to clamor more clumsily than he would like to the kitchen island. He wraps trembling fingers around the counter and curls the others through your own, not to stall your progress but to feel it, the heat of your palm dragging along his stomach making his pulse rise and his breath hitch. 
You bury your laugh against his shoulder. “Sorry,” you murmur, sounding anything but, and then your fingers are tugging at his shirt tails, easing them free of his trousers so that your hands can slip beneath.
Sanji mutters a breathless curse at the first drag of skin against skin, his head falling back and eyes slipping closed as you explore his naked torso, your touch no longer soft and fleeting but firm, eager, blunt nails raking over his abdominals and teasing at his nipples until he’s left gasping, cock twitching within the confines of his trousers. 
“Darling,” he murmurs, grip tightening around the counter as you squeeze at his sides, his hips, only for your palms to meet at the juncture of his pelvis, frustratingly close to where he needs you most. “It isn’t nice to tease.”
You laugh, a soft rasp against his shoulder blade, but then your hands are wrapping around his hips and guiding him to turn your way, and the moment Sanji gets a good look at you he’s lost. Your eyes, always brilliant, have grown dark, heavy with desire, and the expression on your face wars between helpless arousal and a sweet, aching fondness that nearly makes Sanji want to duck his head, escape the raw tenderness he can see in your eyes. 
He reaches for your jaw, thumbs at the softness of your lower lip and goes to pull you into the kiss he’s been aching for, but you slip from his grasp with a promising smile, dropping to your knees before him and giving him a cheeky grin once the reality of your position registers on his face.
Static fills Sanji’s brain, his fingers gripping at the kitchen island as though he might crumple to the floor himself if given half the chance.
“You don’t have to - “ he starts, but you’re already shaking your head, reaching behind his waist to untangle the strings of his apron and then working at the button and zip of his slacks the moment he clumsily tugs the garment over his head. 
He groans as you free his cock, fingers wrapped loosely around the base while your free hand tugs his trousers down to mid-thigh. The sight of your tongue flicking out to wet your lip sends a jolt straight to his groin, but it isn’t until your lips are wrapping furtively around him that Sanji sees stars, eyes clenched shut and vision swallowed by bursts of light as you gently suck and lick at his swollen cockhead, a soft hum of pleasure echoing from your throat.
The vibration wrenches a cry from Sanji’s lips, his spine bowing as you work at his cock with soft lips and an eager tongue. You seem determined to make up for lost time, forgoing the chance to tease him further in favor of pumping his length and tonguing at his slit just the way he likes it, and Sanji moans raggedly as his pleasure grows, all-consuming, overwhelming, with you at its ever-aching center. 
Despite the other Straw Hats having long since left, Sanji stuffs his knuckles against his panting mouth in a futile attempt to muffle his noises, slumping against the kitchen island as the strength seeps from his limbs and leaves him weak and trembling.
Sweat beads on his brow as you flick your tongue against the head of his cock, using your fist to spread his own slick down the length of his shaft. Already he can feel his orgasm mounting, coiling tight and hot at the base of his groin, abdominals twitching with the urge to thrust into the warm, wet heat wrapped around his dick. 
You must sense his impending climax, your efforts doubling and your free hand groping clumsily along his stomach, as though searching for your own anchor in the storm. Sanji reaches for it, tangling his fingers with yours and pressing them to his belly, watching through slitted eyes as you sink down onto his cock again and again. 
He gasps your name, a warning and an entreaty all at once, and feels his dick surge as your lids slowly part, wet, hungry eyes peering pleadingly up at him. 
“Close,” he bites out, squeezing at your fingers, but his pleas only seem to spur you on, your hand squeezing at the base of his cock while you sink down upon him as far as you can go. “A-ah - ! Darling, I’m… I’m - “
His words are ripped from him by the strength of his orgasm, tapering into a groan as he spills against your tongue. The sensation of you swallowing around him rips another, softer keen from his throat, his hips twitching shallowly through the aftershocks until he’s finally, blissfully spent. 
The moment he’s slipped from your mouth, Sanji uses his grip on your hand to pull you up and into his arms. You sway, thrown off-balance by the ache in your knees, but your lips are tilted into a smile, satisfaction sweet upon your face, and at the sight of them, Sanji aches. 
“Please kiss me,” he breathes, squeezing at your hips with hands that have yet to cease their trembling, wanting to feel you, needing to.
How fortunate for Sanji, then, that you’re so happy to oblige. Your mouth is eager against his, soft, open, hungry, and beneath the taste of you, sweet as ever on his tongue, Sanji tastes himself. 
He’ll be certain to return the favor, before your time is through.
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salty-says · 5 months
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Going back to my roots and writing. (Haven’t written fan fiction for 3 years 💀). Anyway the One Piece Live Action has caused me to become very active on tumblr and fall down rabbit holes.
So here is a little Drabble about Shanks x Luffy’sMom!reader
A/N: LMFAO I DIDN’T KNOW ANY OP PLOT RLY BEFORE WRITING THIS AND I KNOW KNOW LUFFY’S FATHER IS GARP’S CHILD NOT HIS MOM 🧎‍♀️🧎‍♀️
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Being the daughter of a marine admiral meant that she grew up with an instilled hatred for pirates. Garp put her through training early on in hopes he could mold her to become a great marine like himself.
She developed fighting skills and had a strong sense of justice. That was until she went out on a mission in her teens to monitor a suspicious group of pirates. The other marines she went on the mission with decided to take their anger out on said pirates beating them to a pulp. A nasty feeling resonated within her chest as she watched her fellow marines serve their definition of justice.
That night made her start to hate the marines and the sham they were. She disconnected herself from Garp and moved to Foosha Village to start her own life away from the marines and her father.
She was very wary of pirates still. Always held onto some lingering fear for them deep down, always looked behind her back.
On the island she bought a quaint cottage and began her own garden in hopes to sustain herself without having to rely on the villagers for supplies.
After a couple of years, she found her place on the island and even become well know for her fruits and vegetables. She always brought her fresh produce to the market each morning, where she had a cute booth. The villagers adored her and also took interest in her mysterious past.
She sometimes found herself going to Party’s Bar after she made good friends with the bartender, Makino. They would talk about all there was to talk about on the island. Sailors, pirates, bandits all passed through.
However one day, old memories began resurfacing. Ones she thought she repressed long ago. She ended up going to Party’s Bar to get shit faced in hopes of shutting everything out.
At the same time as she was downing drink after drink, some sailors stopped on by at the bar. One of them was clearly very interested in her. So in her drunken state she let the man take her to an inn on the island to stay the night.
She didn’t think much of that night until one day she started feeling unbearable nausea. She went to the doctor and found out that she had gotten pregnant.
That was 9 years ago. Her small cottage now occupied by her and Luffy. She absolutely adores Luffy and would do anything for him. Sure he would frustrate her here and there but she was his mother and she loved him more than anything.
She was keen on Luffy’s interest in pirates and sailing the ocean. She decided to not share her own reservations about pirates, as she wanted Luffy to establish his own opinions when she herself couldn’t at his age.
a pirate ship became very well known around Foosha Village. A grand ship with a Jolly Roger with 3 lines across the left eye. She was aware of their presence but didn’t take mind as long as they didn’t interfere with her.
Often Luffy would come back late for dinner beaming about the stories he heard from a man named “Shanks”. She learned that he was the captain of the ship that housed itself at the docks.
With a simple reminder of him to be careful she encouraged Luffy to learn more about Shanks and his crew.
One day while she was at her booth in town, a red-haired male approached her. Instantly she noticed how cute he was and how the white shirt he wore let her admire his toned muscles.
With a blush she darted her eyes back to his face and he deeply chuckled. She smiled, “How can I help you today sir?”
“I’m looking to purchase most of your stock,” he smirked at her.
She quirked her head to the side and smiled, “Either your throwing a big party or heading out to sea.”
“Maybe both,” the red-head shrugged.
She giggled and began showing him the crates of fresh produce. He handed her some berry, “got any plans tonight?”
She blushed, “no, none really. Probably just going to make some dinner for me and my son.”
His smile faltered a bit at the last part, “Ah, I presume your married then. Sorry if my advances made you uncomfortable.”
She threw up her hands in dismissal, “Oh no. You didn’t make me uncomfortable. Actually your advances are quite welcome,” she leaned on the counter, “and don’t worry there is no husband you have to worry about.”
“Aye, how lucky am I?”
She smirked, “quite lucky”
He chuckled and leaned forward towards her, “I never introduced myself. The name’s Shanks.”
Her eyes widened a bit and her body shifted away from him. He quirked his eyebrows at this, confused by her sudden change in composure.
“..pirate,” she quietly murmured to herself. Shanks in hearing this now understood her sudden shift. “I can assure you sweetheart,” he grabbed her hands gently, “I’m a very good pirate.”
Her eyes lightened and body relaxed at his touch. And with a slight apology she told him her name. “Only a beautiful name such as that can suit a beautiful woman such as you.”
She blushed. “It’s scary how much you’re flustering me. I don’t think I would let you leave this island if you keep this up.”
“I wouldn’t mind staying a while.”
“I think my son would like that. He’s very fond of you. Your name graces our dinner table every night.” She rolls her eyes.
Shanks’ eyes widen a bit connecting the dots, “I presume Luffy is your son then?”
“Aye”
“That make sense now. He did say his mother was wary of pirates because she used to be a marine. And looking at you now, I’m glad you’re not one anymore because you’re way too beautiful.” He kissed her knuckles.
Her face turned red. “Please take me out to dinner before I pass out from how flustered you’re making me.”
“As you wish, sweetheart.”
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mintheleaf · 2 months
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(3:54a.m.) A lil something my fellow Malaysian pretties and those who want to runaway with our dearest Nanami to Malaysia ;p I tried to make this as gn as I could, but if there is a slip up, my apologies as English is not my first language. Enjoy ✨
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Retired!Nanami who left the chaotic life of a Jujutsu sorcerer and a tiring office worker life behind for the crystalline waters and beaches of Malaysia. The near death experiences woke him up as he does not want to leave you alone in this life behind.
Retired!Nanami who brought you along, his dearest spouse, to a new life in a new country to enjoy and live in. A life where dangers do not lurk in the shadows, waiting for the time to strike. In hopes that this new life could appease his muddled mind.
Retired!Nanami who found himself enjoying the hot and humid days outdoors and the cozy indoors during cold and rainy days. Although he begrudgingly wakes up to the occasional unexpected rain when he was drying off his clothes.
Retired!Nanami who would drag you around, tasting new foods and drinks to tickle his tastebuds and explore a foreign taste outside of the usual. Spices and herbs bursts through, opening a new liking to some new favourites.
Retired!Nanami who learned new recipes for you to try, adjusting it to your liking and making it perfect. All the ingredients bought from the market, where life was bustling. Nanami thought he wouldn’t like the noisy crowd of the morning markets of Malaysia but surprisingly, it was comforting.
Retired!Nanami who found a quaint little village bustling with life and thought that the place was perfect for you and him. The neighbours were friendly, the kids were noisy and happy, everything was perfect in his eyes.
Retired!Nanami who enjoyed the kids, although a bit outspoken, humouring their questions and curiosities. The warmth and enthusiasm the children have brought back memories of his life back when he was younger, a wistful smile of his old friend who passed.
Retired!Nanami who became the stray cat’s friend and protector, willing to feed the many mouths of hungry felines. His morning is spent in a kain pelikat* wrapped around his waist with a comfortable shirt as he passes out wetted kibbles to the local strays.
Retired!Nanami who enjoys watching you enjoy the world as well, splashing around by the seas, helping him feed the cats, talking and spending time with the neighbourhood’s kids, trying out new delicacies and exploring new places with him. He thought to himself that this is it, his peace and his heaven.
Retired!Nanami who left his old life behind, never intending to look back. Not once will he regret the choices he made, especially with you by his side in his life. The memories that haunt him while he was in Japan was no longer around. With you and the beaches of Kuantan, no curse is strong to break his heart.
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A/n: Kain pelikat* is a traditional cloth a lot of Malaysian men wear around their waists. It’s usually used for prayers but it’s quite comfortable to wear it around the house. Our neighbours, the people of Indonesia also uses this cloth a lot.
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rottenpumpkin13 · 1 month
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Hmmmm.... Sephiroth gets sent out on a LONG ass mission on a Tuesday by himself. (a segment of one of your asks)
The Wild Goose Chase Prank On Sephiroth
• Zack's most elaborate prank yet has Sephiroth as its victim. He has Kunsel hack into the mission roster's system and give Sephiroth a solo mission to the middle of nowhere in the western continent.
• It's summer, it's humid, and Sephiroth's assignment is to find an escaped creature from R&D labeled a "Triserpoco"
• Zack photoshopped an extra leg and a zolom head on a chocobo.
• Sephiroth takes the mission, seething with rage as he thinks about the poor creature having been subjected to Hojo's experimentation—it's the main reason Sephiroth doesn't question the mission. Knowing Hojo, a chocobo-zolom hybrid is something he would pull.
• He's flown out to a quiet little village near the coast, where the mission detailed that it had last been seen.
• The villagers are absolutely perplexed to see a Shinra helicopter touch down on their quaint village, and even more so when the Sephiroth appears. But nothing could've prepared the poor mayor for the "Triserpoco."
*Sephiroth holds up the clearly photoshopped picture*
Sephiroth: I'm looking for this creature.
Mayor:
Sephiroth: Don't laugh.
Mayor: I'm sorry.
Sephiroth: This is a serious matter. It's classified as a highly dangerous and invasive creature that could—sir please stop laughing, your village is in danger.
• After the mayor asks the other officials who confirm that there has never been a sighting of that creature in the village, Sephiroth takes matters into his own hands. He figures that since chocobos flock to grass lands and Zoloms to marshes, he'll have better luck on the outskirts of the village where there's nature.
• He asks a curious and starry-eyed group of kids near the town hall where he can locate the local chocobo-keeper, or perhaps the farmer. Once the kids finally finish asking him for his autograph and waxing poetic about how awesome he is, they point him in the right direction.
• He decides to try his luck and ask the kids if they've seen the Triserpoco, since children are naturally adventurous and would be the first to find some mythical creature when playing in nature.
Child #1: I never saw that in my life, Mister Sephiroth!
Child #2: Me neither! It looks fake. Are you sure that's not a photoshopped picture?
Sephiroth: No, children. This is a Triserpoco. It is a very real and very dangerous creature that I must catch before it harms the townspeople.
Child #3: Hmm I'm pretty sure it doesn't exist.
Sephiroth: It does too.
Child #3: Does not.
Sephiroth: Does too.
Child #3: Does not.
Child #4: I know where it is! I saw it that creature by down the river!
Sephiroth: Ah, thank you.
*He turns to child #3, lowers himself to his eye level, and leans in to whisper in his ear*
Sephiroth: It does too.
• He finds the local chocobo-keeper at his farm—after traversing a field full of clingy chocobos who want to cuddle him.
Sephiroth: I'm looking for this creature. Have you seen it?
Farmer: Son that's photoshopped.
Sephiroth: I appreciate the concern, but this is Shinra's official image of the Triserpoco, a hybrid who escaped captivity and was last sighted in this village.
Farmer:
Sephiroth:
Farmer: Do you want us to contact Shinra and tell them that you're here?
Sephiroth: I assure you I'm of sane mind. I'm just trying to locate this creature and get it back to Midgar before it harms someone.
• The farmer tells Sephiroth he'll have better luck looking it in thing in the woods, since that's the best place something could hide.
• Sephiroth declined the farmer's wife's offer to join them for lunch, but accepts the borrowed chocobo for his journey.
• Sephiroth rides to the woods on the chocobo and begins his search for the Triserpoco. One hour in, he hears some ruffling in the trees and stops.
• Bandits. As if he didn't have enough to deal with.
• They try to ambush him unsuccessfully. Sephiroth manages to protect the chocobo and fight the group of men off, tying them to a nearby tree.
Bandit #1: Let us go! You defeated us already!
Sephiroth: Absolutely not. While I've got you, have you seen this creature?
*Sephiroth pulls out the Triserpoco picture and shows it to them*
Bandit #1:
Sephiroth: Well?
Bandit #2: Is this a joke?
Sephiroth: Do I look like a comedian to you?
Bandit #1: That's photoshop.
Sephiroth: It's a Triserpoco, a dangerous hybrid bred in captivity that went missing around this area.
Bandit #3: That's bad photoshop too.
Bandit #2: Dude are you high? Guys maybe he's lost or something.
Sephiroth: I am not inebriated nor am I insane.
Bandit #1: Are you sure Shinra sent you here to look for that?
Sephiroth: Yes. If you are able to provide information I might be inclined to let you go.
Bandit #2: My cousin photoshopped a picture of herself marrying Genesis Rhapsodos once and told everyone it was real.
Sephiroth:
Bandit #2: She's in jail now for setting her house on fire.
Sephiroth: What on earth does this story have to do with my question?
Bandit #2: She legally changed her name to Sephiroth when she was 18.
Sephiroth: I'm leaving.
• Sephiroth ventures further into the woods, stopping twice to pause, rest and consider retirement a total of 58 times. He keeps his eyes peeled for the creature, but even he's starting to doubt why Shinra would send him out here alone with no additional information about the sightings.
• He doesn't dwell too much on it though. Hojo's involvement and R&D's penchant for secrecy makes the mission sound normal.
• Sephiroth finally comes across a river and ascertains that it's the same river the enthusiastic three-year-old claimed to have seen the Triserpoco. He sees a old woman fishing by the river bank and decides to ask her for information.
*34 minutes later*
Sephiroth: Ma'am, for the last time. While I'm flattered, I have no interest in marrying your granddaughter. I'm sure she's lovely but—
Old Woman: You're gay.
Sephiroth: Excuse me?
Old Woman: That's perfectly fine! I have a nephew who's gay. Oh, I should've known. You look very gay, did you know that?
Sephiroth: I wish to speak to you about a creature that escaped Shinra's captivity a few weeks ago—
Old Woman: What about Genesis Rhapsodos? Do you think you could introduce him to my granddaughter?
Sephiroth: Ma'am if I look gay, he looks like he's been inhaling the rainbow since birth.
Old Woman:
*Sephiroth pulls out the picture*
Sephiroth: Have you seen the Triserpoco?
Old Woman: Oh, I know what that is. The kids these days call it photoshop.
Sephiroth, through clenched teeth: It's not an edited image. It's a real creature. Have you seen it or not?
Old Woman: You'll have better luck looking for that thing in the mountains.
Sephiroth: Why the mountains?
Old Woman: Have you checked the mountains?
Sephiroth: No.
Old Woman: There you go.
• Sephiroth thanks her and leaves for the mountains. On his way there, he stumbles across a path near the lake that leads to some wet lands. He figures he should try his luck there before going up the mountain.
• There he finds a group of teenagers hunting and decides to avoid them entirely and instead try his luck with the man collecting crabs in the marsh.
Sephiroth: Hello. I'm looking for this creature, the Triserpoco. Have you seen it, perhaps?
*Sephiroth holds up the image*
Man: That's photoshop.
Sephiroth: It's a Triserpoco.
Man: That doesn't exist.
Sephiroth: It's a hybrid bred in captivity. Only one of its kind exists.
Man: I think someone's playing a joke on you, boy. That looks like something straight out of a horror movie.
Sephiroth: So you have not seen the Triserpoco?
Man: No one in the world has seen the Tripsipico.
Sephiroth: Do you have any idea where I could find more information about the Triserpoco?
Man: You could try a psychiatrist.
Sephiroth:
Man: Have you spoken to that group of teenagers over there?
Sephiroth: No.
Man: Do you intend to?
Sephiroth: Please don't make me.
Man: .....?
Sephiroth: Fine. I'll talk to them. Thank you for your time and help.
• Sephiroth turns around and begrudgingly makes his way towards the group of noisy teens. Just as he had feared, one of them is wearing a Silver Elite T-shirt. After the initial fanfare, groveling and autographs, Sephiroth calms them down enough.
*He shows them the picture*
Teen #1: What is that, satan??
Sephiroth: IT'S A TRISERPOCO.
Teen #2: That looks like bad—
Sephiroth: I KNOW I KNOW BAD PHOTOSHOP.
Teen #3: Uh..Are you oka—
Sephiroth: I'M FINE.
Teen #4: Really? Because you look—
Sephiroth: GAY, YES, WE'VE ESTABLISHED THAT.
• For the first time in his life Sephiroth manages to scare away a group of people without needing to take his sword out. He sighs, turns around, and begins his trek up the mountain. He wonders wether those therapy vouchers Angeal gave him for his birthday are still valid.
• He decides that if the Triserpoco isn't anywhere on the mountain, he'll declare this as a mission failed and go home. It's a foreign concept to him. He hasn't failed a mission since he was a child.
• Back at the headquarters, Zack can't sit still and finish his overdue mission reports. He keeps giggling and thinking of the wild goose chase he sent Sephiroth on. This distracts Genesis, who's on the SOLDIER lounge trying to read.
Genesis: What's so funny?
Zack: I'm playing a prank on Sephiroth. I had the mission roster send him out to the western continent to look for a monster that doesn't exist.
Genesis: That's brilliant. Why didn't I think of that?
*Angeal walks in*
Angeal: Has anyone seen Sephiroth? Director Lazard's sent for him but no one can find him.
Zack: He's out on a mission looking for the Triserpoco.
Angeal: The what?
*Zack holds up an image of the photoshopped creature, unable to contain his laugh*
Genesis: That's what you sent Sephiroth on a wild goose chase for?? That photoshop is horrendous! He's never going to buy that!
Zack: He already did! He left on his mission nine hours ago. He should be back any moment now empty handed.
Angeal: He's going to murder you. He's going to shove your head in an oven and make you suffocate on the fumes from your hair gel.
Zack: No he's not! Sephiroth will think it's hilarious. He hasn't failed a mission since he was a runt. This is refreshing for him!
*And then the elevator doors open. Sephiroth steps out, looking exhausted as he pulls a Three-Legged-Chocobo-Zolom hybrid on a leash*
Sephiroth: Good evening, gentlemen.
Zack:
Sephiroth: I found the Triserpoco.
Zack:
Sephiroth: It's appalling what atrocities Hojo uses R&D's resources for.
Zack:
Sephiroth: Anyway, I must take it back up to the labs.
Zack: But this is impossible...The Triserpoco doesn't exist....It's photoshop....
*Sephiroth turns to Angeal and hands the leash to him*
Sephiroth: Hold this for me.
*Sephiroth unsheathes The Masamune*
Sephiroth: COME HERE.
Zack: WAIT WAIT I'M SORRY I'M SORRY OW OW OW OW OW OW OW OW ANGEAL HELP.
*Zack runs away as Sephiroth chases him, hurling balls of firaga at his feet*
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ladyylavenderrr · 1 year
Text
At first, Luigi is hopeful. He sits in his (admittedly comfortable) cell with his head held high. He looks out the window and imagines what his brother will do when he finally comes for him. There’s no question that Bowser will get the beating of a lifetime, of course, but Luigi still wonders how the showdown will go. He occupies his mind by imagining it all.
After 4 days, Luigi starts to get worried. He and his brother had never taken this long to rescue Peach when she’d gotten captured. Bowser must have realized this too for he soon takes the time to actually speak to Luigi.
“Your brother busy or something?”, he jokes. It gets a chuckle out of Luigi. Only a small one.
After an entire week has passed, Luigi stops responding to his captor entirely. It’s a real shame. The two had been having nice conversations. Bowser is a nice guy behind his tough façade. The constant kidnapping thing he has going on isn’t ideal, but at least he’s not cruel.
Once Luigi goes silent, Bowser starts bringing him more and more of his meals personally. He smiles kindly when Luigi finally takes a bite after an entire hour of refusing and it’s the only thing that awakens Luigi from his depressive state, if only slightly. Bowser keeps talking throughout these interactions, even if his captive won’t respond.
After two weeks, as Luigi sits on his little bed, slowly sipping at his soup, he finally cracks. His sobs come so suddenly, they surprise even him. The man barely even registers Bowser kneeling in front of him. He perhaps says something but Luigi can’t hear him. He’s too busy sobbing pathetically onto his meal.
He’s not sure how he finds himself in the koopa’s arms, sobs shaking him violently. He’s not sure who was the one to even go in for the hug, if Bowser pulled him down to the floor or if he himself leaped towards him in a panic. Either way, Luigi shakes and clings to the king in desperation.
Bowser lets him out of his cell not long after.
After 3 weeks, Luigi begins throwing things in fits of intense anger. Even though Bowser has allowed him to leave his cell and wander the castle, he doesn’t. Luigi mostly just stays in his room. If before he was depressed, now he was angry. He snaps at any servant that dares approach, he punches walls and screams into his pillow. Bowser is the only one to not get angry. When servants glare as he throws the meals they brought, when nearby guards yell as they restrain him, Bowser is calm and kind. That fact just makes Luigi all the more furious.
“Get out!” Luigi weakly throws a chair. Bowser stays still. “Why won’t you leave?!” Bowser stays still. Luigi lets out a scream of frustration and tears at his pillow. “Just get rid of me! Just hurt me already!” Bowser doesn’t. He just stays still, an unreadable expression on his face.
When Luigi tires himself out he falls to the floor and cries. He finds Bowser there to hold him once more. “Why aren’t you mad at me?”, Luigi chokes out through his tears. Bowser doesn’t respond.
After a month, Luigi finally starts going out. He walks in the gardens (quaint as they may be compared to those in the mushroom kingdom) and almost feels like himself again. He helps out in the kitchens and feels joy fill his being once more. When he’s introduced to Jr, he takes to him immediately and the two bond quickly. Luigi notices that he isn’t guarded anymore and when he’s by the palace gates, he’s not looked at with suspicion. The message is clear and the opportunity is there. Luigi doesn’t take it.
“Why don’t you leave?”, Bowser asks him one day. The two are sat in the royal library and Luigi is caught off guard by the question. Their conversation had been cheerful and lighthearted up until that point, about nothing in particular. It takes a moment for Luigi to answer but he finally responds with “Why would I?”
“Don’t you have friends you miss?”
“I don’t want to think about them…”
He thinks about Daisy, about his friends in the toad villages. He can’t bring himself to imagine going back to them, to a life outside of Bowser’s kingdom.
“Besides, where would I even go? Back to him?”
The way Luigi hisses the phrase out is enough to keep Bowser quiet. The koopa stares at nothing yet his attention is clearly still on Luigi.
“You’re the one who took care of me at my lowest. Not him.”
Luigi takes his hand with his own, shaking nervously.
“I don’t want to go back. I want to stay with you.”
The silence between the two stretches on endlessly.
“You wouldn’t abandon me, would you?”
Bowser looks away, his face red, but when Luigi feels him squeeze his hand, he knows he has his answer.
After 2 months, Luigi gives up on the idea of the mushroom kingdom ever coming to a peace with the Koopa Kingdom, at least not in his lifetime. Luigi finds the prejudices he believed about the residents of this kingdom to be nothing but a fabrication. Luigi can’t even recall why the two kingdoms hate each other so much. He only knows that things have always been this way and that’s how they’re destined to remain. Bowser speaks to him about his recent revelations about the unending conflict, about his failed attempts to find peace with Princess Peach. The distrust runs too deep, it seems.
“Is that why you kidnapped me then? Were you upset you had failed again?”, Luigi finds himself asking.
“Not really. But I’ve always kidnapped someone, right? It’s what I do, even if I’ve stopped being sure why.”, Bowser’s eyes were far away. “I guess I just wanted someone new to take.”, he chuckles.
Luigi finds himself smiling and laughing alongside him. “I’m glad you did.”, he speaks. Despite all that’s happened, despite being abandoned by his brother, Luigi can’t help but thank fate for bringing him to Bowser. He’s found someone who’s good for him, someone who cares for him, warts and all.
It’s too bad a red-capped hero slowly making his way toward Bowser’s castle has to ruin it all
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iforimaginary · 5 months
Text
May I entice the masses with the concept of a Will Wood Jukebox Musical?
Around a month ago me and a good friend of mine were listening to Will Wood’s discography and they offhandedly threw “Wouldn’t it be cool if someone made a Mama Mia equivalent with his songs?” into the air.
This thought stuck with me for a while until I found myself incredibly bored during a 3 hour-long road trip and decided to kill some time.
Preface aside, I present…
[ Welcome To Suburbia The Musical ]
↓↓↓
Brochure Designs:
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Narrative Summary:
A young couple attempt to escape the hardships of life by moving to a far-off picture-perfect town known by locals as ‘Suburbia’. Despite it’s shining appearance, the couple are troubled by unsettling peculiarities bursting at the suburb’s seams- but what’s a village without a little cooky culture?
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Character Breakdown:
• James Campbell - An alcohol-dependent horror writer down on his publishing luck.
• Dai Lu Lee - A doctor specialising in the care of farm animals with an unfortunate talent for disappointing her parents.
• Cassie Logan - James & Dai Lu’s next door neighbour with an unsettling sense of humour.
• Morgan Logan - Cassie’s reserved wife working as a forensic investigator for the local PD with a predisposition to bad first impressions.
• Lin Lee - Dai Lu’s headstrong traditional father.
• Ming Lee - Dai Lu’s passive narcissistic mother.
• Mayor - Confident and charismatic front man of Suburbia with a messy past who’s always ready to offer a helping hand.
• Barkeeper - Eccentric and off-putting owner of a local bar that appears to be a front for a darker business.
• Therapist - Patient woman tending to Dai Lu’s psychiatrical and psychological needs.
• Secretary (Non-singing ensemble role) - Nerdy and shy assistant of The Mayor who is desperately enamoured, head-over-heels for her employer.
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Act Synopses:
[Act 1]
James and Dai Lu, freshly engaged and already exhausted from life’s baggage, strike a ‘too-good-to-be-true’ deal on a down payment for a quaint home in the unmarked town of Suburbia. After being warmly welcomed by the ever so charming Mayor and their next door neighbours Cassie and Morgan, the couple begin to unwillingly face some of their fatal flaws as Dai Lu is forced to stare her regretful decision making right in its ugly face.
[Act 2]
James may recognise his now hard-to-hide attachment to alcohol, but he is far from apologetic about it. Frequenting a newly discovered bar on the outskirts of town results in his fiancée finding herself in a rather unusual predicament. Forced to work for a sleazy underground cabaret bar, she preforms a number detailing The Mayor’s dark and unfortunate past. All the while, The Mayor himself is trying to seduce her partner into a life overflowing with sin and dubious spiritual ties. Upon being reunited through the brilliant detective work of Morgan, the couple have yet another handful of complicated feelings to sort through.
[Act 3]
Decades of pious work from The Mayor’s hands finally come to a head as he no longer attempts to hide his servitude to a being he was never quite sure how to please. The town descends into uncertain insanity as every individual is consumed by their corrosive and abandoned insecurities. Dai Lu never quite moves past her disagreements with her parents, James never quite makes peace with being an utterly unremarkable writer and Morgan never quite solves the case that’s been scratching at the back of her mind for years. All those lives are, however, lost in vain as The Mayor misinterprets his Patron’s asks. The town of Suburbia stands desolate, bare, and belonging to a man who’s greatest desire is to be rid of it’s burden.
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Songs By Act:
(Act 1)
Suburbia Overture (Mayor, Ensemble)
The Main Character (James)
Marsha… (Lee Family)
Against The Kitchen Floor (James)
Momento Mori… (Morgan)
Well, Better Than… (Dai Lu)
(Act 2)
The First Step (James)
Willard! (Mayor)
Front Street (Barkeeper, Ensemble)
Venetian Blind Man (Dai Lu)
Black Box Warrior (Therapist)
Your Body, My Temple (Mayor, Ensemble)
Sex, Drugs, Rock’n’Roll (James)
Cover This Song (Cassie)
Outliers (Mayor)
Love Me, Normally (James)
(Act 3)
Vampire Culture [S.O. Reprise] (Mayor, Cassie, Morgan, Ensemble)
Lapce’s Angel (Mayor)
Hand Me My Shovel (Cassie, Morgan, Ensemble)
Dr Sunshine (Dai Lu, Ensemble)
Cotard’s Solution (James, Ensemble)
Song With Five Names (Mayor, Ensemble)
2012 (James, Dai Lu, Mayor, Ensemble)
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Naturally there is a much larger and in depth plot summary, thought-out blocking for musical numbers and some in progress character designs that I have crammed into my Master Doc for this behemoth of an original work.
Keep in mind this concept is far from finalised, more characters may be added and more songs might be written into the narrative.
I’d be more than happy to go more in detail about it and accept any form of suggestions or feedback if the users of Tumblr happen to find this interesting :)
In the mean time, if you find yourself interested in this work and would like to listen to the songs in chronological order I have compiled a playlist you can find bellow… ↓↓↓
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spacesquidlings · 3 months
Text
Thorns
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Description: Connecting with family can be wondrous, but it can also cause heartache and strife. And when she's caught in a fight, he saves her
Pairing: Astarion x Female Tav (Aspen)
Warnings: Threats of physical violence
A/N: Although being with family over the holidays is supposed to be full of love and warmth, it very rarely is. I've been lucky the past number of years that my holidays have usually been fun and joyous, and I've looked forward to the parties and gatherings. As I've gotten older though, things have become more and more difficult, and this year especially has been much harder in a lot of ways (I won't bore you all with the details but it's been difficult to say the least). I've simplified this fic a bit so as not to bore anyone with the complexities of a very large extended family unit, and paired it down to feature mentions of a more condensed family. Please forgive me this indulgence, but writing this brought me some comfort and closure after a difficult situation on Christmas eve. I hope it can give someone else even a little bit of comfort and safety and the knowledge that you are loved, and that you are good as you are. Happy holidays you guys I am sending my love <3
****************************************************
Fights happened, that’s just the way families were. At least that’s what she’d been told.
She’d been told a lot of things. That she could be terribly angry, that she was always angry, that she often screamed, that she was always horribly loud, that she could be thorny and sharp. And although she never tried to be a creature of wrath and noise, it seemed that such a beast was forever lurking beneath her skin, waiting to unsheath its claws.
So too had she been told that she could be too much. That she needed to dampen her voice as one extinguished a flame, leaving only smoke to show it had been there at all.
And some of it was true, she was certain. In the back of her mind she knew she could be loud, that she could be a bit much. She would lose herself in her excitement, her passions. The flurry of emotions, as raging as a hurricane, would overtake her. Whether it be in joy or excitement or heartache or anger, she would lose herself, and sometimes it took a steadying hand to bring her back.
She did not have a steadying hand that night.
It had been years since she had seen her family, absconding from their home with the intent to make a life for herself in Baldur’s Gate before being stolen by the mind flayers. She had written letters to them since, but she had settled nicely into her life with Astarion, finding joy and contentment like nothing she had felt before. So it had been ages since she had seen them, so focused was she on the moments of excitement and the moments of repose with her lover.
But with the holidays coming up, she’d wanted to see them. She had wanted to see her family again. She was on good terms with nearly all of them, although there was a strange distance that had grown between herself and her father. Yet that surely would not matter, not when she wanted to see everyone, when she wanted to reconnect and laugh and be in their company once more.
Astarion had obliged, musing about how he’d like to meet the people she had grown up with, and perhaps take a peek at old paintings of her as a child, and look for old beloved toys and books to tease her about later.
So they had sent a letter to her mother, and they had packed their belongings, and they had headed out to the village she had grown up in.
It was not a backwater by any means, but when they first arrived she gazed upon the central market, the rows of quaint houses that skirted the village borders, and felt strange. It was all as familiar to her as a recurring dream, and unknown as an uncharted land unmarked on any map.
It had been her home, but it was not her home any longer. She was a piece of a puzzle that no longer fit, this small world shifting around her absence, filling in the gaps as surely as she had filled in the gaps that had been left in her.
She’d spent the day with Astarion, clutching his hand tightly, the ring that allowed him to walk in the daylight glittering like a star plucked from the night sky on his finger. They’d gone through all of her favourite shops, had paused in restaurants to enjoy some of the foods she hadn’t had in ages, before finally arriving at her parents’ home.
Her heart had fluttered like an injured bird, and she considered turning tail and running. But with Astarion’s hand in hers she felt brave, felt safe as she knocked on the door, as she was greeted by the delighted shouts of her mother, of her siblings, of her grandparents.
The reunion was not without its awkwardness, exacerbated by Astarion delighting in stories of when she’d been in a child, and finding old paintings that had gathered dust of her childhood self. He’d even managed to find his way to her old room, the one she had occupied barely a week before she had first met him.
Laughing, he had wiggled beloved stuffed dolls above her head, teasing her as he pretended to play, eliciting annoyed shouts at first, and then laughter as she’d tickled his sides until he’d conceded.
She’d been able to fall into a comfortable routine with her family, and with her lover at her side. The years of adventuring had not diminished her love for them, nor had it made theirs falter. She no longer fit within the village, but she was still welcomed, still accepted.
Their plan had been to stay for a few weeks, touring the village and some of the larger cities nearby, and catching up with family and old friends. Most days Aspen and Astarion would spend their mornings together, Astarion lying on her chest like a weighted blanket, murmuring that he was too comfortable to move even as the sun made its way across the sky. Then they would dress, invite one of her siblings or her mother along with them, and they would head out into the world.
In the evenings they would return, and he would roll up his sleeves and offer to help with the cooking and cleaning her mother often did. It added to the strange delightfulness of everything, Astarion offering to do something he had often whined about at length when their relationship was still new as spring blooms.
It felt almost blissful, a strange sort of dream she found herself walking in. A scrap of domesticity, a glimpse into what life with him would be like if they ever settled down. If they ever decided to put down roots.
But as much as those days warmed Aspen’s heart, they could not last. It was all too good to be true, the softest, most magical part of the dream right before she awoke. The calm before the rage of a storm.
She loved her family, so entirely she did not always have the words to explain it. But as much as she loved them, they frustrated her beyond belief, beyond words or understanding. The little words that cut like a knife into her heart, picking at her life, at her interests and hobbies, at her choices.
The only difference now was that she no longer wandered her family’s home and the village roads with open wounds, dripping blood into the snow-covered cobblestones. When they wounded her with sharpened words, Astarion was there to stitch her back together, to hold her until the tightness in her chest began to loosen, knots coming undone.
There was never any true malice behind their words and actions, but that did not mean that it hurt her any less.
She loved them, but they frustrated her. The more time she spent with them the more things weighed her down, the more things chipped away at her confidence, at the slivers of courage she had found travelling Faerûn, at her own heart. She could feel parts of herself fading away, withering like flowers in a storm, like dying leaves falling from ashen branches.
Aspen was reminded of how difficult family could be, and none were more difficult than the man who called himself her father.
Just as surely as she’d been told she could be too much, she’d been told she needed to be careful around this man. To dance delicately around things that triggered his rage, to tiptoe through a field of eggshells to ensure nothing cracked.
But Aspen was not a rogue, not like her beloved, able to slink silently through shadows, able to dance through fields of fire, able to whisper honeyed words that calmed most people before aggravation could explode.
How could she, when there was a monster beneath her skin? And though she’d thought it finally tamed, it returned in a fury easily, far too easily for her liking.
It was a night when Astarion was not with her, when they were a hairsbreadth from the holidays and she was helping to cook and bake. Grating cheese and chopping veggies, measuring out chocolate and stirring batter.
Astarion had slipped out earlier in search of something he would not divulge. He would only grin in mischief, tap her nose playfully, and promise he wouldn’t be out too late.
And without him nearby, she’d had nothing but her songs and stories to while away her time with. So she had volunteered to help cook and bake with her mother, taking part in what had been a little tradition between the two of them when she’d still lived with her family.
Things had gone well enough, and they’d successfully prepared many treats for the holidays and the revelry everyone would be taking part in.
It had come as a surprise when her father had entered, forcing his way into their comfortable space. He’d started doing something else entirely, plates and bowls clashing in a discordant clattering that had her ears ringing.
Although her ire had been stoked initially, she’d had no reason to pay it any heed. What he was doing was no crime, and her mother was forever asking her to strengthen the bonds between the two of them, to close the strange chasm separating them that neither was ever able to fully cross.
And it had been fine, at first. Casual conversation shared between the three of them, her younger siblings having retired to bed already, and Astarion still lost to the night and whatever wicked surprise he was searching for.
But then it had been not fine, and too late did Aspen realize the claws of the monster in her blood had come out.
Her voice raised, her heart thundering in her chest, a plea to be listened to, to be seen and understood as the adult she had become. That she was not a fool, that the aches in her heart for things he refused to believe were valid, were just, if only he would listen.
They’d had many shouting matches in the past, leaving open wounds that had pushed them further apart the older she grew. So when his voice rose she’d thought perhaps it would be the same as the others, words thrown like rocks back and forth until it fizzled out.
But she’d said that he’d been talking down to her, that he’d been talking to her like she were clueless, a child.
And that apparently, was too far.
The escalation was abrupt. Sudden movement, the man squaring his shoulders to seem larger as spit had flown from his mouth as his voice had risen further. His words had turned cruel, derogatory. How stupid she was, how childish, how she was no adult and spoke like a fool, and words so much crueler that had made her eyes burn.
He paced, shouting loud enough to rattle the ceiling. And she had raised her voice in kind, shrieking now, shrill and enraged at him, at herself for being hurt, for thinking they could mend the rift between them.
And then the threat, a threat heavy with certainty. That he would hit her for her impertinence if she did not stop.
Hit her as a parent hit a child, beat her as a parent who did not know how to navigate their emotions beat a child that misbehaved.
Red had filled her vision, her heart as good as stopped for she could no longer feel it. Her blood had boiled and she had flung her anger back at him, a furious reaction to such a threat.
Her mother had promised he would never hurt her, but her mother seemed oblivious to the times he had, when she’d been little. No more than a parent punishing a child, keeping a troublemaker in line. But she remembered the sharp pain, she remembered the stark cold of the tub, she remembered the acrid taste of soap and the way she had heaved as she’d been forced forward.
Not many times, but enough to burn themselves in her memory, enough that she shrunk whenever a man’s voice was raised. Enough that she shook despite her best efforts when senseless rage was directed at her.
Such a threat was not something she would abide. Not now, not anymore. She was no defenseless child, she had lived, she would not be threatened in a place she was meant to be safe.
She said as much, thinking she was safe.
But she was not. He moved swiftly, looming over her like a monster, so close his forehead pressed against hers. Spit flew into her face, her ears rang, as he screamed and screamed, deep rage like that of the flames of Avernus, directed at her, so close she could smell nothing but the rankness of his breath.
She screamed in return, demanding he move, to get away. But he did not, still pouring his fury against her.
In the back of her mind fear sprung forth, slick and oily as disease. Her body trembled, not that she noticed, and she knew, deep within herself, that he was nearing his limit. That he would hurt her if she did not keep pushing.
But how could she not? Until he used those damned ears to listen, to acknowledge she was not some thing he could use as he pleased.
She tensed in anticipation, knowing the blow would come sooner rather than later.
But what she did not expect was the new shout that erupted behind her father, a figure blocked from her view from the hulking mass of the man who had pressed his face into hers and would not move.
Astarion dug his fingers into the collar of the man’s shirt, yanking him back.
He stumbled, whirling on Astarion, hand raised.
And Astarion bared his teeth, a knife pointed at the man’s throat.
“Make one move and I slit your throat.”
A snort, over-confident and haughty. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Another flash of Astarion’s fangs, his eyes seeming to brighten to a bloody crimson. “I would hate to waste warm blood, but in this case I could make an exception.”
Wild eyes turned to her, fists clenching as hands fell to his sides. “What kind of monster have you brought into our home?”
“Eyes on me,” Astarion cooed, deadly soft. “Lower those hands and go somewhere to cool off and I won’t spill any blood.”
The man swore, shooting Aspen one more murderous look before stalking away, muscles tensed like he was still looking to fight.
Astarion sheathed his knife, a ferocious predator for only a moment longer before he turned to her. His eyes softened then, his lips murmuring soft words as he moved towards her, catching her shaking body before she could fall over.
“You’re alright, darling,” he murmured, pressing his lips to her brow. “You’re safe. You’re safe.”
Tears burned, but they did not fall. She was shivering like a dying tree in a windstorm, and she clutched at him, words choked by the sob that was lodged in her throat.
“Let’s find somewhere for you to sit down, shall we?” He guided her to the kitchen table, settled her into one of the chairs.
In the aftermath, as the fury leached from her skin, she felt cold. Cold as a winter’s night, cold as the darkest moments of a snow-storm, cold as the frozen lake at the border of the village, drowning in the darkened waters.
It was only then that her mother stepped forward, having seemed to have disappeared during the fight. She’d nearly forgotten she’d been there, helping her to bake before everything had unravelled.
“You know you’re both just so similar,” her mother said, letting out a breathy laugh. There was no humour in the sound, and her expression was pinched.
Astarion turned to peer at her mother over his shoulder, his expression inscrutable. “Excuse me?”
She shrugged, wringing her hands. “They provoke each other so much. And you know you did start it, Aspen. You know that’s a trigger for him.”
Astarion leaned back as though he’d been slapped. He blinked, not seeming to understand what he’d just heard. “What do you mean?”
Her mother didn’t hear the edge to his tone, but Aspen did, just as she saw the twitch of his brow, the slight downturn of his lips.
“She should have just agreed to disagree, that’s all.” Another shrug. “What he did was unacceptable, and he shouldn’t have acted like that. But you know you can be just like that, too.”
At her mother’s words Aspen shuddered, for an entirely new reason this time.
She knew of the creature beneath her skin, knew she had to keep it in check, but never had she felt like such a monster as she did now. Her mother softly berating her for provoking the man supposed to be her father.
She could feel it in her veins, roiling like the rage of a storming sea. The monster in her blood, the one that used her skin.
Had she minded her tongue this would not have happened, had she minded her tongue they would still be joyfully cooking, and Astarion would not have had to reveal his vampirism to her parents.
As her mother came forward to comfort her as well tears began to spill, streaking down her cheeks in rivers of flame.
She hardly noticed through the silver blur the room around her drowned in from her tears, the way Astarion’s expression tightened. She didn’t even notice the way his hands tightened on her shoulders, giving her mother almost no room to kneel beside her.
She wanted to cry to her mother, to be comforted, to be told it was not her fault.
But it was her fault, wasn’t it? A horrible monster ruining the holidays, ruining their family gathering on the eve of their celebrations. Ruining things just as she always did, tearing apart the delicate happiness that had been in the air.
“Absolutely not.”
The sharpness in Astarion’s tone made Aspen look up, searching for his eyes in the haze of tears. She made to wipe her eyes, but he gently pushed her hands away, the pads of his thumbs soft as they gently brushed away her tears.
She sniffed, her throat raw as she spoke. “What are you talking about?”
“I will not stand for such slander,” he said, gentle, but firm. “I will not allow for you to be slandered after such a threat.”
Her mother shot Astarion an incredulous look. “That’s hardly fair, and I don’t appreciate you sticking your nose in our business. He’s her father, he would never hurt her.”
“Wouldn’t he?” Astarion sounded eerily calm, his brow arching in bemusement. “Because that looked quite aggressive. That looked like someone on the verge of hitting someone else.”
Her mother opened her mouth to retort, but Astarion stood suddenly, cutting her off.
“No, this is not acceptable.” He offered Aspen his hand, his expression softening for half a breath until he returned his gaze to her mother. “From what I saw he nearly hurt her. He threatened to hurt her. And while my beloved can handle much, being threatened by her own father is not something she should never tolerate.”
His gaze was sharp as he gave her mother a once over. “Nor should she tolerate such nonsense from her mother.”
“You weren’t here at the beginning of the argument, you didn’t hear-”
“No, you’re right.” He cut her off, no humour in his smirk. “But I know her well, so I can guess well enough what happened. And raising her voice and saying a thoughtless comment does not deserve such a response.” Then, quieter. “Nothing does.”
Wordlessly, Aspen took his hand. He drew her to her feet, wrapping his arm around her waist. “We’re leaving, darling.”
Her legs shook, and she feared her knees would give out on her soon. “Where?”
“We’ll find an inn for the night,” he said, not sparing her mother a second glance. “Then we’ll head back to Baldur’s Gate at first light.”
Her mother got to her feet, regret in her eyes. “But the holidays start tomorrow, and we planned-”
Astarion’s response was a snarl. “You stood by and did nothing. You didn’t want to choose a side, but you did all the same.”
They packed quickly, Aspen in such a daze that Astarion packed her things for her, murmuring softly that she was okay, that she was safe, that he would make sure she was always safe.
It wasn’t until they had headed into the night, until they’d checked into the first inn they found, until Astarion guided her to the rickety bed and she fell back, that she truly began to sob.
“It’s alright,” he murmured, taking her into his arms. He tucked her head against his shoulder, not making a comment as she stained the fine fabric with snot and tears. “You’re safe.”
“I’m sorry!” She cried, squeezing her eyes shut against the pain, hands finding his shirt, balling the fabric up in her fists. “I’m sorry! I ruin everything!”
“Nonsense,” he breathed, smoothing her hair back from her face. “You don’t ruin anything.”
“Yes I do!” Her voice was a shrill shriek, and she nearly doubled over from the force of the sudden sobs that ripped from her throat. “I ruin everything. I ruin every friendship, I ruin my family’s happiness, one day I’ll ruin this.”
She pressed her face against his shoulder, her sobs muffled, if only barely. “I’m a monster. I’m a horrid beast, always so angry and I can’t even stop it. I can’t stop myself!”
“Aspen.” The steadiness of his voice gave her pause. He kept his voice soft, but there was a firmness to it, like iron, that quieted her cries.
“Aspen, darling, look at me.”
She sniffed, shaking her head. “I look horrible.”
A soft chuckle, his fingers running through her hair. “I don’t think that’s even possible, my love. Even drenched in gore you are beautiful. A few tears and snot will hardly stifle your beauty.”
She pulled away then, fixing a glower to her face. “Are you sure about that?”
He smiled, cupping her cheeks with such gentleness that a soft gasp escaped her lips. Did she deserve tenderness? Did she deserve even a scrap of his affection when she was a beast? When she would hurt him as surely as she hurt her father, her family?
“You are radiant,” he said, no sign of teasing in his eyes. “Beautiful as always.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. The screaming, the rage, being whisked away so late at night. “Astarion, you just watched me scream my lungs out at my father and then sob so hard I’m pretty sure I bruised my ribs.”
He tapped her cheek, his brow arching. “Don’t forget staining my shirt, too. This was silk, you know.”
“Oh Astarion, I’m so sorry.” The tears began all over again, spilling like she might drown in her misery. “I’ve ruined everything.”
“Darling, darling,” he clicked his tongue softly, brushing her tears away as he stroked her cheeks. “You have not ruined anything, and you are no monster.”
“But I-”
“Hush.” He could have spoken sharply, but his tone was whisper soft. His brows drew together, his lips tilting down. “You are not to blame.”
How did she explain to him? How did she explain the monster in her body, the beast beneath her skin?
“You don’t understand.” Her voice wobbled, thick and rough from tears and screaming and the sobs still caught in her throat.
He was being so soft, so gentle in the face of the catastrophe made flesh that she was. “Then help me to understand, my love.”
Her bottom lip quivered and she drew in deep breaths, her nose clogged with snot. “I ruin everything, I make a mess of everything. I push him too far, trigger him and make him angry. I don’t even try to, I don’t look for a fight but everyone tells me I do. I’m told I’m too loud, I’m too angry, and I don’t even know I am until it’s too late. I’ve ruined my most precious relationships, I ruined the holiday by making my father mad.”
Astarion listened quietly, brushing away her tears as they fell, until they had all spilled, and there was nothing but dried salt on her cheeks.
When she was done pouring out her fears, her terror of what she could be, he nodded, silent still. She wished he would speak, was desperate for him to say something.
Maybe he would push her away, tell her that he had made a mistake, that she was not who he’d thought she was. Maybe he would tell her that she truly was a beast just as she thought.
But what he did surprised her more.
He drew her face close, brought his lips to the corner of hers.
“You are no monster,” he said, soft as a lullaby. “You can be loud, and you can be a bit overzealous.”
At that he smirked, tapping her cheek. “But a monster you are not. If you’re truly scared, then when we return home we can find someone to help, so that what you feel is truly tamed.”
She sniffed, pulling at his shirt. “But I ruin so many things! What happens when I ruin us?”
He rolled his eyes, tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. “My love, you have not ruined anything. You’ve told me of those friendships, and it sounds like those people were rotten from the start.”
“But what about-”
He brought a finger to her lips, silencing her.
“My love,” he murmured, exasperation in his sigh. “I’ve held my tongue far longer than I’ve cared to tonight. Let me speak.”
She nodded, wilting, and he withdrew his hand.
“You did not ruin the holidays for your family either,” he continued, cupping her face again. “Your father had no business reacting that way, no matter what. As much as I delight in a little violence, there is nothing that anyone could have said that would deserve such a response.”
She sniffled again, wiping at her nose as she felt snot dribble out. She looked disgusting, she was sure, and yet Astarion had insisted she was beautiful. How strange he could be.
“If anything was ruined, it was because of him,” he said, kissing her cheek again. “He should learn to control himself, and he was very lucky that I have so much self control.”
At that Aspen couldn’t help giggling, memories of all the times Astarion could not help himself brimming in her mind. But she held her tongue, not wanting to cut him off, not when he was being sweet as spun sugar.
“And you will not ruin us,” he said at last, firm, unwavering. “I want you, I want every part of you. Even your thorns.”
“Thorns?” She furrowed her brow. “Am I a flower to you?”
He grinned, twirling her hair around his finger. “The most beautiful and rarest of all flowers. But I don’t mind the thorns.” His smile grew, fangs catching the light as they came into view. “I’d let you prick me if it meant getting to stay with you.”
“I would never prick you,” she cried, horrified at the idea of hurting him. “I would never ever hurt you. At least not intentionally.”
His smile softened, and he brought his lips to her chest, above where her heart thrummed, finally beating a steady rhythm once more. “See? You have a sweet heart, you are no monster.”
“But-”
“No buts,” he interrupted. “I have met monsters, my love, and you are not one.”
He sighed, releasing the tendril of hair he’d been toying with. “And I plan to stay at your side for a long, long time. So long as you’ll have me.”
Her heart, a poor fractured thing, ached from his words. She felt like she were splintered glass, and she would shatter at any moment now. The only thing holding her together was Astarion’s hands, keeping her in the moment.
“I want you to stay with me,” she said, her voice soft as breath. “I want you to always stay with me.”
“Then I shall.”
Astarion’s arms slid around her waist, drawing her close. Aspen could think of nothing else to say, so instead she curled against his chest, feeling like she might fall apart at any moment now.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, murmuring softly into her hair. “You’re safe. I will keep you safe, my love.”
Although her trembling had stopped, it still took her a long while to truly settle. Her mind could not seem to rest, and it took Astarion singing her favourite songs off-key and reading from one of the books she’d packed for their trip for her mind to finally ease.
He was patient with her as she clung to him, murmuring soft praises, whispering that she was good, that he loved her. He sang and read to her, he stroked her hair, rubbed gentle circles into her back.
A stray sob would slip from between her lips every few moments, and she would absently wipe her nose on the back of her sleeve before nestling closer again. Astarion would press another kiss to her brow, her temple, his arms tightening around her, with every sob that escaped.
And slowly, so painfully slowly it might have taken her a century, she finally began to feel… She wasn’t sure entirely, but it was safer, comforted.
Not entirely better, but it was a start.
“I feel tired,” she murmured against his chest, her tears finally dried up, the last of her sobs lost to the night.
The shadows had grown so long, deepening until there was no light keeping them at bay but for the candles they had lit in their room.
“Why don’t we get you into a bath,” he suggested, tipping her head back until their eyes met. “You always like that.”
“I do…” She trailed off, even the miniscule effort needed to summon words to her lips exhausting her. “But it’s so late, and I feel so tired.”
“Leave it to me,” he murmured, smoothing back her hair.
Things were a blur after that, fatigue rushing through her all at once. Astarion carrying her to the bath, gently settling her into the steaming water like she were a delicate, precious thing. His fingers running through her hair, massaging soap and scented oils into her skin. His lips over her skin, scattering kisses in the wake of his hands as he rinsed the suds from her body.
When he was done he stepped free from the water first so he could help her out, holding her hands as she climbed over the high lip of the tub. He wrapped her in a soft towel, half-carrying her back into their room to help her dress and comb her hair.
Astarion’s lithe fingers twisted her hair into twin braids that fell down her back, much longer than she usually kept it. She made a comment to him that she would need to get it cut when they returned, and he pressed his lips to the nape of her neck, promising he would make an appointment for her with their favourite hairdresser.
“And then perhaps we can spend the rest of the day out,” he suggested as he helped her into bed, going so far to fluff the pillows, spoiling her like she were a princess in a fairytale.
“We can pick out some new fabrics, perhaps commission some new clothes,” he continued, brow quirked as he grinned. “You can never have too many new gowns, especially now that we’ve started getting invited to parties. And-” He let the final word hang in the air, quivering like a music note held at the climax of a song.
“And?”
“And I love seeing you in pretty things.”
She held out her arms, wanting him to hold her even now. He’d had his hands on her for hours now, her fingers wrinkled from how long they’d spent in the bath. But it was not enough, and she wanted to be held still.
Astarion obliged, lying beside her and drawing her into his arms. She tucked her head beneath his chin, breathing in the smell of bergamot and rosemary, and the faint smell of her own favourite perfumes and soaps, lavender and rose and the touch of citrus.
“Could we go to the bookstore, too?” She asked, yawning as he trailed his fingers down the back of her neck.
“We can go wherever you would like,” he promised. “But first you must sleep, my love. We’ll make the trek back home tomorrow when you wake.”
He didn’t have to tell her twice, and she quickly fell into a dreamless sleep, safe in his arms.
The morning came far too soon, but Astarion let her sleep late, until the sunlight was a golden glow that seeped through the curtains of their room and breakfast had long since passed.
They didn’t take the time to bid anyone a proper farewell, instead heading for the winding road that would lead them home.
Aspen didn’t anticipate spending her favourite holiday travelling on the road, but she found she did not mind. Even when silence blanketed the both of them, she was comforted in his presence. Astarion could be melodramatic, petulant, and overly confident. But he also showed her gentleness, kindness, an affection that warmed her like the gentle flicker of candle flames.
He took care of her as surely as she took care of him, and as eagerly as she had accepted him for all his virtues and flaws, so he had with her. Perhaps more so, because she’d kept them quiet for as long as she could, and she was certain anyone else would have left her in the cold for such deception.
The winds picked up as they travelled, reaching frozen fingers into her hair, tearing at her cloak and skirts. She tugged her hood over her head, although it did little as the wind snatched her hood back, tearing it from her head.
Astarion snickered, sliding a hand to her cheek. “I have to admit I am glad that your face is not hidden by your hood.”
“Astarion, I’m cold,” she whined, not caring how her voice pitched high, joining the keening of the freezing winds.
A roll of his eyes, followed by a delicate kiss to her cheek. “Here, I have an idea of what can help.”
He draped the side of his cloak over her, his arm slipping around her waist.
“Won’t this make walking hard?” She asked, turning to him. He was close now, his breath ghosting against her cheek.
“I don’t mind,” he said, his voice a warm tenor that caressed her skin like a kiss. “I’ll take any excuse to be closer to you, darling.”
She sighed, but it wasn’t sad, or even bittersweet. It felt the precursor to a laugh, that promised delight would follow in its wake. “You’re so sweet, did you know that?”
“I did,” he said, doing a poor job of trying not to preen. “But it sounds best when it comes from your lips.”
Now she did laugh, and there really was a little happiness in it, soft as the laughter was, freshly fallen snow that filled the world with glitter. “I’ll have to say it more, then.”
“I’ll hold you to that, my love.”
Walking as they did, Astarion’s cloak wrapped around her, slowed them down considerably, but they still made good time, and as the sun sank beneath the horizon, setting the slate-grey of the sky ablaze in fiery red and burning oranges, they arrived back in Baldur’s Gate.
The feeling she felt as they hurried through the streets, fatigue heavy in their bones, was something entirely different from when they’d arrived in her childhood home.
There she had felt like a piece that no longer fit, accepted but not entirely right. She had ignored it, because that had been where she’d grown up. That had been her home, it was where her family lived still.
But stumbling through the streets, thinking of the warmth of her own home, the heat of a bath, the crackle of a fire stoked high, and all the snacks in the cupboards of their kitchen, she felt something click into place.
The bustle of this city, that bakery she loved to visit, the darkened storefront of their favourite tailor, the merry lights and open doors of the bookstore that sold warm drinks in the winter months. All the parts of the city she hadn’t yet seen, so occupied were they both with travelling, adventuring to different lands.
This felt right. Being here felt right. She didn’t feel like a misplaced puzzle piece, a lost toy that did not match with the rest of the set. She didn’t feel like a puzzle piece at all, something that had to match everything that surrounded it.
She felt whole, she felt like she belonged, felt like she was home.
The wind had not let up since earlier that day, heavy storm-clouds chasing in their wake. As they walked up the steps to their home, windows dark and curtains drawn, waiting for them to bring life back into the empty building, she felt something cold touch her cheek.
She looked up, beamed at the flurry of white swirling through the air, caught up in the ice of the wind.
“Astarion, look,” she murmured, pointing skyward. “It’s snowing.”
He paused, barely a foot from their door, to gaze up at the sky, a soft smile beginning to stretch across his face. “So it is.”
He gave her hand a tug, attention already sliding from the snow and back to the promise of warmth and comfort only a foot away. But Aspen found herself frozen in place, staring up at the snowflakes cascading to the ground. Like the sky itself had opened up in welcome of her returning, of her finding somewhere she was safe.
As Astarion tugged her harder she obliged, following him into the house, the door closing with a soft click behind them. It blocked the snow from sight, but still she could see it in her mind’s eye, swirling in an ivory ballet overhead, covering the world in a pallid pearlescence, wiping away the stain that had grown from the day behind them.
She shivered, snapping back to the present as Astarion’s cool fingers glided over her cheeks, his voice teasing as he commented on how flushed she looked.
They helped each other with their cloaks, tossed their packs to the side to be emptied once they were properly warmed. All the while Aspen’s eyes flitted over their home, the familiar shapes of the furniture, the familiar smell of the cleaners and soaps and candles they preferred, the familiar twists and turns of the halls and stairways.
Astarion’s arms slipped around her waist, his chin perching on her shoulder. “What are you thinking of, darling? You’ve hardly said more than a few words.”
She leaned into his embrace, covering her hands with his. “I’m just thinking that something felt strange when we’d gone to visit my family. And that something feels right now that we’re back.”
He peeled away from her, giving her an amused smile. “Of course something feels right, my love. We’re home.”
Home.
She’d known she was coming home as she’d stepped into the city once more, the word seemed to hold a different weight now.
Home, where she had chosen to lay down her heart, where she had chosen to share space with the person most precious to her. Where she was safe.
She smiled, turning around to draw him into an embrace, pressing her face into his shoulder, breathing in the smell of pine and cold winds, and the smell of his perfumes that he so loved.
“You’re right,” she said, her words partially muffled as she nestled closer. “It feels better because I’m home.”
Astarion snorted, but she could imagine the tender smile curling over his lips like a crescent moon shining silver in the sky. He ran a hand over her hair, fingers toying with the soft baby curls at the nape of her neck. “You’re safe here. You’re safe with me, my love. I swear it.”
“I know.” Tears pricked at her eyes as she held him tighter.
“I will never hurt you, I will never raise a hand to you, or even threaten to do so.”
She clung to him, as surely as his perfumes clung to his skin, even a hint of their smell giving her comfort. “I know, Astarion. I’m not afraid of you.”
“I only want you to know,” he murmured, lowering his head until it rested against hers. “I want you to know that you’re safe. I’ll make sure you’re always safe.”
She squeezed her eyes shut, a futile attempt to stop the flow of the tears that slipped from the corners of her eyes. “Astarion, you’re making me cry.”
He clicked his tongue, stroking the back of her neck. “I didn’t mean to make you cry, my dear.”
“Too late.”
A sigh, a kiss to the top of her head. “Then allow me to make it up to you, darling.”
She sank further into his embrace, listening to the slowed beat of his heart. Her love, her shining star.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you so much.”
A moment of silence, the slow rhythm, of his heart seeming to stammer for a moment, beat a little faster. “And I love you.”
Aspen would have been content to stay there for the rest of the night, wrapped in his arms. But Astarion clearly had other plans, and after a few moments he pulled away, tapping her cheek playfully when she pouted.
“Don’t look at me like that, darling. I want to clean up and change into something warmer.” He sighed, taking her hands and running his thumbs over the backs of them. “And I want you to change into something warmer too, before you turn entirely to ice.”
“If I turned to ice would you find a way to rescue me?” She gave him a sly smile, a glimmer of mischief in her heart.
“Without a doubt,” he said, eyes bright with devilry. “Although I might have to tell you that I told you so, since if you turned to ice it would be because you ignored my request to warm up.”
“Well then I’ll make sure to heed your advice,” she said. “I wouldn’t want to upset you.”
He patted her hand. “An excellent choice, my love.”
She squeezed his hand, unwilling yet to let go. “Would you help me? I still feel so tired, and I would like to stay close, if you’ll allow me.”
Sorrow flashed in his eyes, the mischief in his smile softening. “Of course, my love. You need only ask.”
“And then we can mull that wine we bought before we left.”
He chuckled, tugging her from the entry, deeper into the heart of their home. “We can. But you’ll have to keep your wits about you, my darling, because I still have that surprise I had prepared for you before that little scuffle.”
She frowned, only now remembering that he’d vanished in search of something he would not tell her about just before the fight had begun. “What is it?”
He shot her a roguish grin. “You’ll just have to wait and see, darling.”
He was teasing her, and while normally she would at least pretend to get upset, in this moment all she could do was smile and laugh. There was no tension in the air, no fear of shattering eggshells beneath her feet.
Astarion accepted her, all of her, and he would not rage against her for saying the wrong thing, for being too loud. He loved her as she was, thorns and all.
They spent the evening together, and she fell asleep tangled in his arms, warm and safe, not feeling quite as hollow as she had the night before.
Aspen had hoped she would bounce back after their return to Baldur’s Gate, but of course things were not perfect, and little more than a week later, a letter arrived addressed to her, scrawled in her mother’s neat hand.
‘You should apologize. I believe you both should apologize, you both-’
She did not get a chance to finish reading before Astarion plucked it from her hand, tossed it into the fire.
A voice in the back of her head told she should probably be annoyed, angry even, that he took the first piece of correspondence she’d received from her family since and fed it to the flames. But there was no rage left inside of her, and even if there was, it would not spark, would not catch on the kindling forever in her heart, waiting to turn to a blaze.
She was thankful to him, for not forcing her to read such a letter. That blamed her as equally as the man who had threatened her. Who teetered on the edge of inflicting violence on her for the sin of disobedience.
“That’s utter rubbish,” he muttered, drawing her into his arms. And for that she was so painfully grateful that she burst into tears all over again, another bout in endless weeks of tears.
“It’s alright, darling.” He had said the words so many times over the past few days, comforting her in the morning when she awoke, trembling from dreams of screaming, from the fractures in her heart, the knowledge that there was no real going back, no crossing the distance between her and that man.
“You are not to blame,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “Your heart is good, darling, and it is not your job to please other people so they do not threaten you. Not even your own family.”
Aspen nodded silently, burying her face against his neck.
They could not hurt her here, they could not even slice her with their callous words. Here in her home, with her lover, she was safe.
“You’re sure?” She asked, sniffling. “You’re sure that I will not ruin us?”
He chuckled, warm and soft, nearly a sigh. “Do roses ruin a garden? Does a hawthorn tree ruin a forest?”
She peeked up from her hiding place, wrinkling her nose. “Pardon?”
“Roses have thorns, do they not?”
She nodded slowly. “They do.”
“But they’re everywhere, are they not? In gardens, in songs and poems, in bouquets given to lovers.” He tipped his head to the side, searching her face as he spoke.
Again she nodded, still unsure of what he was talking about. “I know that. They’re some of the most popular flowers.”
“Even though they have thorns?”
“I… Guess?” He was teasing her now, she was sure of it.
“And did you know,” he continued, toying with her hair. “That hawthorns, with their red fruits used in wines and jellies, and the pretty flowers that bloom on their branches, have thorns too?”
She shook her head, completely lost now. “I didn’t.”
He let go of her hair, settling his hands on her waist. “Well they do. And still they are not seen as something ruinous, but something people adore.”
When she didn’t respond, Astarion sighed, making a show of rolling his eyes. “My darling, you will not ruin us. I love you, I adore you. And I would choose you over all of the thornless, soft-hearted fools in the world.”
“I love you too,” she said, feeling small. “I love you, and I want you to stay with me.”
“And so I shall, darling,” he murmured, lowering his head, nuzzling his nose against hers. “I love you, thorns and all. I’m not going anywhere.”
Tears burned at her eyes, a stray few slipping down her cheeks, and she quickly wiped them away, smiling softly.
“You ought to become a poet,” she said, peeking up at him. “Especially after saying such pretty things.”
He snorted, pulling away to wave his hand languidly through the air. “What can I say? You bring out the romantic in me.”
“Thank you, my love,” she spoke earnestly, wanting him to know she was not joking around, that she meant it with her whole heart. “Thank you, for how kind you are to me.”
Astarion froze, the softest touch of pink blooming in his cheeks. What little blood stayed in his veins was rushing to his face, warming him, if only slightly.
“Yes, well…” He trailed off, stammering. “You make it so terribly easy. I hate the idea of your sweet heart being in pain.”
She smirked, teasing him now. “You know you’re pretty sweet, yourself.”
“Alright.” With a roll of his eyes he turned away. “Were we not planning to go out before we got that letter? We should hurry if we want to stop at the bookstore before heading to the performance.”
“Oh yes,” Aspen beamed, hurrying to his side, standing on her toes to press a kiss to his cheek before going in search of her cloak. “Right as always, my love. We must make haste.”
Laughter chased after her as she found where she’d last discarded her cloak, a deep deep the colour of a sunset, a perfect contrast to the powder pink of her gown and the coral-coloured ribbons that laced up the front of her bodice. She tossed it over her shoulders, clicking the clasps into place before heading to the entry, where Astarion waited for her, grinning brighter when he saw her.
“Beautiful as always,” he cooed, straightening the clasps of her cloak, disentangling the corners of her ribbons so the bows laid flat.
She beamed, pushing the letter from her mind, pushing the whole terrible event from her mind. What lurked in her skin was no monster, not a beast that destroyed everything that was dear. It was only her thorns, a part of her as surely as the blood in her veins.
Astarion had promised to help her soften them, so they did not draw blood when someone got too close. But there would likely always be a few that were a little sharp, despite her best efforts.
But he would love her anyways, acknowledging that they were a part of her, and he loved all of her, even the sharpest parts.
That knowledge settled in her heart, warmth kindling in her chest. Not the violent fire of rage, but the gentle warmth of love, of contentment, the kind of warmth that kept her safe.
He offered her his arm, and she took it, heading out into the snow-flecked world beyond their door. Into the city that she was not a missing puzzle piece in, with someone who loved her as she was, who was her home. And like the sun to a blooming flower, to a tree with flowers and fruits blossoming along its thorny branches, their love kept her warm the entire day.
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sugar-omi · 4 months
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requesting for hc for the boys as characters in Stardew? I srsly need someone to make an Our Life mod for SV. It would motivate me to play again.
no bc if I figure it out... I got you anon 💪💪 I've been thinking abt a olba stardew mod for agessss
Fluff, headcanons, stardew valley x olba crossover
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BAXTER
he pulls a Kent or like that one mod that adds June (I think that's his name. he's from the ridgeside village mod)
and you don't met him until summer, where he vacations in the valley
mmm... moves to the valley at some point. or maybe he stays after summer
lives in a quaint house. small but comfortable
super polite as always, even brings you a house warming gift and invites you for drinks
frequently sends letters. sometimes with small gifts or recipes or invites to dinner or for a dance
mmm cut scenes... well I'm not gonna talk abt all 2, 4, 6, 8, etc heart events...
omfg he's like Harvey who plans romantic dates after you get married
8 event, he wines and dines you n then kisses you
DEREK
has a 1 or 2 heart event where you run into him on his run, and he helps you carry your seed and fertilizer back to the farm
like Sam, he has a heart event with his family. prbly 6 hearts
you have a nice dinner w his family, laughs n giggles but the real meat of the event is afterwards when he's walking you home
mmm maybe incorporating his dlc and you're walking through your farm n he's talking about how nice it is you found smth you wanna do
tells you he hopes he can find happiness n purpose like you found in the valley
then in his 8 or 12/14 heart, tells you he found that with you <333
COVE
Elliot 2.0
lives on the beach and you can find him at the beach every day from spring til summer
has a small farm, nothing big literally just 3 squares he grows something on each season
is awkward but welcomes you and is pretty shy for awhile, kinda like Sophia from SVE but not the same ofc
omfg basically lives in/by the boat watching that mermaid show. I forget what the name of it is, but the night market in stardew
I can already imagine the special dialogue during the moonlight jellies scene, very excited to see those
has a heart event too ofc, 8 or 12 hearts, and you're outside stargazing, maybe even taking a little dip in the ocean like in step 4 and tells you how he loves you, all that stuff
omg 14 hearts where you go on a boat n he tells you how happy he is w your little family... pls
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yeah im already planning dialogue lines for the boys each season and marriage/dating lines.... HELL IM EVEN THINKING ABT FRIEND GROUPS
lemme figure out how to code bc I am buzzing w ideas rn
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silverflqmes · 14 hours
Note
you are legit my favorite ffvii writer at the moment dude. if you feel like it, do you think you can write smth about being childhood friends w zack and reuniting with him one day? make sure to take care of yourself 💕 :)
໒⦂ 𝐈𝐍𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆.
notes. HELP YOU’RE SO SWEET ANON??? IWOWJDJDK i haven’t written as much yet and i still have lots to learn but that really warmed my heart to hear 🥹🥹🥹 i decided to combine this with another request, i hope that’s okay with you both!<3
genre. fluff + angst
disclaimer. tifa speaking on cloud can either be platonic or romantic — whatever you wanna think just don’t start up a whole ship war bc it’s embarrassing as hell. obviously this is a zack fic so focus on zack smh.
zack fair x gn!reader.
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“you’re.. leaving for SOLDIER?”
you shouldn’t be shocked, that was the last thing you should have been since you had been the one to encourage his decision.
and yet.. why did it hurt? you had known that it would, it was only naturally — but not like this.
zack averted his stare from the star blanketed sky, smiling solemnly. “sure am. you helped me realize that becoming a hero is something that i should do — that the world needed my kind of help.. so that’s,” he paused, allowing the evening breeze to shift his dark bangs. “exactly what i gotta do.”
you fell into silence for a moment, pursing your lips together as you considered his words.
it had been your crush’s dream from young, since seeing sephiroth on propaganda and hearing of his endeavors, to become a hero. the life he’d led in gongaga was wonderful, peaceful.. but you knew, deep down, he’d wanted to make that name for himself. that zack was.. meant for greater things.
and you, torn between your feelings for him and the need to encourage him as his best friend.. had no choice but to put aside what you felt to urge him to embrace his dreams.
when he received no answer, the raven haired teen took it as a sign to continue, leaning back on his elbows. “as of now, you’re the only one i’ve told about my decision — cuz well.. as you know, my parents aren’t super chill with it.” he laughed out, shaking his head. “so i’m gonna leave tomorrow night. got everything packed up already, a letter ready for them to pass on and i’ll be good to go!”
“tomorrow night? so soon?” you nearly interrogated him, only to respond with a slow nod. “you have my word, don’t worry about it.” should you tell on your friend? would that keep him just a little while longer if his parents knew and prevented his departure? would he hate you for it and finally give you a reason to stop feeling this way about him?
no.. you couldn’t live with yourself if he had hated you. that was practically death served on a silver platter, your heart would never start again if zack had expressed contempt for you.
for a second, longing flashed in his eyes before he allowed himself to grin, patting your back gently. “you’re amazing y/n!! i knew i could count on you no matter what! i’ll be sure to bring you something real nice from the big city!! and that’s a promise!”
a smile that didn’t quite meet your gaze etched itself onto your lips as you let out a hum of agreement. “you’re the amazing one, zack. i’ll..” miss you. “..be holding you to that promise, so you better keep it.”
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three years passed and no sign of zack. the promise stood, but remained unfulfilled.
you should have expected it, that becoming a SOLDIER meant never seeing him again. you knew he was alive, a letter would have come if he wasn’t, and his parents kept you posted thankfully.
yet, there was still an emptiness you felt in his absence. every year, you’d told yourself that perhaps maybe, he would come home to visit this time.
now, having turned eighteen, you had decided to leave the comfort of gongaga as zack once had, and journeyed to nibelheim — a village in the mountains. it was small, quaint as your hometown was, perhaps colder, but after being offered a job through your parents, it called to you.
your mother had been from nibelheim and met your father in midgar — who had left gongaga to pursue a career in research as she had.
despite their retirement, they had developed many connections.. one of which, had been in the mountain village.
when you pleaded to leave and join up with your friend in the city he’d left for, your parents had urged you not to, and were strict on it.. as though something had been terribly wrong there.
you’d never asked why they retired so early on, and just assumed they had wanted to settle since they’d made their money.
but it didn’t.. fully seem that way.
“didja hear y/n? there’s a group of SOLDIERS coming down here tonight. ahhh, i hope cloud is there — i haven’t seen him in years.” your companion and guide sighed out, pacing about idly as you jotted down notes on your observations of the terrain.
tifa had been a friend you’d made upon your arrival. she was a year younger, but a real go getter and great help on your expeditions. in the beginning you worried for her safety, stringing her along as you did — only for her to protect you from the perils you feared.
you’d have to ask if that mentor of hers was willing to show you a move or two on self defense.
“cloud, huh? is he in SOLDIER, too?” you had told the girl before you already about your old buddy, as there was no possible way of her exposing your feelings for him.
and honestly, it was comforting to confide in someone for a change.
she nodded eagerly at your question, smiling softly. “he should be, it was his dream to become a SOLDIER, like sephiroth — that’s what he told me one day before he left.. and he’d promised to always protect me, no matter what.”
your writing seemed to pause at her comment, head lowering as you willed yourself to chuckle despite your anguish. “is that so?” zack, as you recalled, had dreamt of the same. “well, i hope he comes home safe if he’s a part of that group.” you smiled a little, closing your notebook before standing up from your crouched position.
“that should be enough for today, thanks for coming along again — i think i’m almost there with reaching my conclusion on this strange increase in mako spillage on the landscape.. but i just- can’t seem to put my finger on it.” you muttered, knitting your brows together before casting a glance over at mt. nibel- the highest point of the area you had moved to. “whatever, they’re keeping in that reactor.. there’s something really off about it.”
the burgundy eyed female followed your gaze before humming absentmindedly. “yeah.. i’m hoping those guys coming today might know or at least clean up over there.. i’d hate to see what might happen if the pollution intensifies down here.” she answered softly, helping you up before looking ahead. “for now, let’s get back — it’s almost sundown.”
at the mention of the visitors on their way from midgar, your thoughts went to your old friend, but you reprimanded yourself quickly. you would not have hopes again — as they only ever existed to get shattered and turn into despair.
and yet.. that one percentage asking but what if, remained.
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the sun had drowned into billowing clouds, a shade of golden casting over the scenery as you walked beside your friend, exhaustion creeping up on you. however, you reminded yourself that the descent was always easier than the ascent.
“and we’re back, thank you for taking the tifa express way~” your travel partner giggled, earning a smile in return from you. she always had a way of brightening the mood with her optimism. kind of like.. nevermind.
the brunette looked around when she found the villagers gathered in the centre, adjusting her hat with a pout. “did we just miss them? i didn’t think we would be this late..”
you copied her actions, letting out a sound of contemplation. “maybe they turned in, midgar is a long way from here.. i’m sure they wanted to just take things easy for the night and start off fresh tomorrow.”
tifa paused for a minute to think before letting out a sigh and nodding. “i guess you have a point — tomorrow, then.” she smiled again, holding out her thumb. “i’m gonna be their guide, i’ll make sure of it!”
you rolled your eyes in amusement before nudging her with your elbow. “whatever helps you sleep at night, tifa.. i’ll catch you in the morning, in that case. i still gotta sort some things with information i picked up today.” a trip to that mako reactor and your research might at last be complete. perhaps.. you could convince the group in bringing you along- especially if your friend would be going.
it was the perfect in!
“mhm, see you in the morning, y/n! don’t be up all night doing that work of yours if you wanna wake up on time!”
with those parting words, followed by a wave, the female dressed in orange walked towards the direction of her home, eagerly greeting her father at the door before joining him inside.
your shoulders fell, a low exhale escaping your lips as you adjusted your backpack. and just like that, she was gone.
you made your way into the inn you’d been staying at for the time being, rubbing your eyes.
it was a temporary arrangement, given you hadn’t fully decided yet if you would be staying permanently in nibelheim. however, the living accommodations worked just fine.
you hadn’t thought yourself difficult to please, anyway. so long as you had the necessary essentials needed to live, all was well. that was what you’d learned growing up in gongaga.
entering the inn, you greeted the host before ascending the steps, pausing when you caught sight of a towering, silver haired.. male? unless a woman could stand at nearly seven feet.. and across from him, stood.. no — had your eyes deceived you?
“z-zack..?”
the conversation between the pair, whatever it had been about, came to a full stop as they turned to face you, shock painting on the face of the SOLDIER with the darker hair.
“y/n..??” he spoke up incredulously, blinking over at you as his jaw fell just slightly. “no way- what’re you doing here.. in nibelheim of all places? i thought you were-”
“in gongaga?” you asked with a small smile before shaking your head. “my parents found me work here, so i moved just a few months ago. never thought i’d see you here, before returning home, no less.”
zack could feel the coldness of your words, piercing through him like icicles tipped in poison. pissed was an understatement.
the taller behind him smiled awkwardly before moving towards his door, not wanting to be muddled into the affairs of his triend. “i believe you both have some catching up to do.. i will see you in the morning, zack.”
the boy in question parted his lips in protest, but the cat-eyed male was gone before he could do so. damn!
awkwardly, he turned to meet your awaiting stare, swallowing thickly.
“sorry, i’ve.. had a lot going on.” he confessed, lowering his head in shame. “i wanted to come home sooner — especially after making first class just recently- but things.. everything that has been going on as of late at shinra, it’s been really messed up.” zack confessed, clenching his fists at his side before letting out a glum chuckle. “and it just keeps getting weirder.. what were the odds i’d find you here of all places?”
you leaned against the window, folding your arms as you gazed out. “close to none. i guess it’s a thing of fate, maybe.” you offered, sliding your eyes back to his zircon ones. “seems my parents were right to not send me to the city with whatever ‘messed up things’ that happened.”
the SOLDIER nodded, allowing a brief silence to pass before smiling. “they probably were, yeah.. don’t think you would have liked midgar much, anyway. it’s all gross and industrial looking.. although!” he blurted suddenly, perking up as though he’d remembered something. “wait right here, i’ve got something i want to give you!”
you rose a brow at his random burst of energy, reminding you that despite the change in his appearance, the development he had gone through.. he was still your zack, and that wouldn’t change.
he disappeared into his room before you could answer, rummaging by the noises you’d made out, which had you shielding your mouth with your hand. “don’t get lost in there, now.”
“like i would!” he laughed before emerging from his quarters, holding out a messily wrapped box for you. “no matter where i went, i always kept this with me, thinking that maybe- just maybe, i would pass through our hometown and find you to hold up that promise i made to you. finally,” the spiky haired SOLDIER paused, grinning brightly. “i was able to fulfill it!”
you blinked in surprise, taking the package into your hand as you felt your face burn despite the coldness provided by the high altitudes of nibelheim. “you.. remembered?”
appalled, zack let out a gasp of offense. “remembered? how could i forget?? a promise is a promise, and i intended on keeping it!” he huffed out before raising his fists before him in excitement. “now come on, open it!!”
overcome with a sudden happiness, to know you hadn’t been forgotten despite the negative thoughts you’d created, you opened up his gift to you with earnest. a glimpse of green entered your vision as you quirked a curious brow. a plant? no.. zack wasn’t the type to keep plants.
finally removing the top completely, you stared down at the present before stifling a laugh into your forearm. “you- you got me a cactuar.. stuffed toy?” you spluttered in surprise.
of course he did — it was zack for goodness sake..
“sure did!! ya like it?? it looked authentic when i saw it in the window!” he answered proudly, placing his hands on his hips.
you continued laughing, unable to contain yourself as you held your stomach. “it’s so random- but that’s.. that’s just like you to get me!” you wiped a tear, allowing a smile nearly as bright as his, or perhaps- even brighter for a change, to replace your initial frown. “i love it a lot, but.. you wanna know what i love more?”
a mixture of interest and excitement sparked in his eyes as he inched closer, eager to hear. “what? what is it??”
having caught your breath, you closed your eyes, holding the plush close to your heart. “being here- reunited with you, again..”
like an invisible string, knots and tangles had appeared in the thread that connected you both. however, it wasn’t impossible to unravel and detangle that which connected you both, to allow an opportunity of reunion.
( even if it was the right place, but sadly.. the wrong time. )
notes. bittersweet open ending cuz well.. it’s nibelheim- anyway, i hope this was okay! i think my writing style kinda changed.. scary. oh well! the support these last few days have been much appreciated<3 tysm you guys, hearts out to you fr<3
↳ return to main masterlist . request rules . send an ask
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hiraya-rawr · 2 years
Text
"you and me against the world but the world won" (Xiao)
about: It's the archon war and Xiao loves you too much. My take on his tragic backstory before he meets Morax.
genre: fluff, angst, comfort? it do be a roller coaster
note: THIS IS SO LATE BUT THIS HAD TO LEAVE MY DRAFTS NOW. BEGONE. btw ooc alatus in the start (I like to believe his harsh and cold demeanor was slowly developed after all). not my proudest work but it is quite the fic!
༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺ ༻✦༺ ༻✧༺
"Back in a younger, more naive time, a god had gotten a hold of Xiao's weakness and forced him to serve as their bloodhound, in which capacity he was forced to perform cruel and violent acts." (Genshin Impact Wiki, Xiao's Character Story 2)
— Act 1 : You and Me —
"And what's this extra room for?"
"Well..." A blush rushes up to his cheeks, turning his head to the side, "We would need a nursery someday, wouldn't we?" The dumbfounded look on your face at his reply slowly breaks into a wide grin. You laugh at him before tackling him into an embrace. You were touring your new home. Just a young couple starting out in life in a quaint and secluded adobe, not too far from a Shilin village in Liyue.
"Okay then. What do you think about having five little adepti?"
"What?" He turns to you, wide-eyed, "F-five?"
"Pfft. I'm kidding, Alatus." You snuggle into his chest, your horns — physical proof of your identity as an adeptus — poke at him. "Maybe just two."
"Hmm... Actually," He starts, suddenly scooping you up into a bridal carry causing you to yelp. There's a mischievous glint in his golden eyes and you screech as he carries you down the hall, saying "Five sounds just fine."
— Act 2 : Beginnings & Ends —
The waves of the archon war were fast approaching. It was a miracle that your little village lasted this long in peace, not when the surrounding towns were already burnt to the ground. Many of your fellow villagers had already left to seek refuge; it was only a matter of time for you to leave as well.
"Y/n? What are you doing?" Alatus asks, turning the corner to see you standing in the middle of your supposed nursery, "Have you finished packing?"
You stayed silent and closed your eyes. As if time would stop if you don't respond. You hear the shuffling of feet as Alatus wraps his arms around you from behind. He was always such a clingy person, embracing you in every opportunity.
"I can build another nursery. One that's even better." He whispers softly and you sigh, turning to face him with a sad smile.
"It needs to fit five, okay?"
"Alright."
— Act 3 : To Love and Protect —
"Perhaps we should head to the ocean. There are talks of Morax and the goddess of dust accepting refugees." You suggested, pointing at the map, "I'm sure he has formed contracts with the adepti as well."
"That brutal god?" Alatus scoffs, folding his arms, "Not a chance. Besides, the lord of the vortex is sure to make Guyun Stone Forest his battlefield."
"Y/n may be right," Bosacius — one of the five great yakshas — folds back the map. "Morax, though known as a menace, is loyal to his contracts. We can condition the safety of the villagers in a contract."
Alatus sighs, too tired to argue.
Like nomads, you've been traveling for months. Many of the villagers who left with you had succumbed to the natural hazards of war: from getting caught in the crossfire to lack of resources, only a few were left to wander. Despite being one of the younger yakshas, Alatus had earned himself a rather high position among the illuminated beasts in your group. He was undeniably strong with a righteous personality and he did his best to ensure everyone's safety, particularly yours.
"So we'll be heading south," Indarias, another reliable yaksha, concludes, "Tomorrow, Bosacius and Alatus will scout ahead. The rest of you form a temporary shelter in the cover of Wuwang hill."
You glare at Indarias, him knowing fully well that you were uncomfortable with the idea of your lover scouting ahead. Indarias merely avoids your gaze and walks away with the dispersing crowd. You sigh and follow Alatus to your shared tent.
"Alatus," You start but he stops you.
"I know you don't like the idea, Y/n, but it's just a reconnoiter mission. We'll avoid any fights."
"You know it's not just that, Alatus," You approach him, holding both his hands in yours, "There have been talks of a malicious god capturing yakshas. We don't know what he does with them but it's obvious that Qiongji Estuary is his territory." You mumble softly. "I just... I don't know what I'd do without y-"
"I'll be fine." Even if I have to crawl away from battle, pride be damned, I'll come back to you. He thinks to himself.
You trust him enough to believe him.
— Act 4 : Strength & Weakness —
It was a trap.
After days of risky scouting, saving as many civilians as he can, battling evil demons and lesser gods, Alatus was exhausted.
"I must say, though you are young, you are by far the strongest yaksha to face me," Came the intimidating voice of a god. The same god who's enslaved dozens of illuminated beasts to do their dirty work. Alatus holds back a reply, gritted his teeth to avoid groaning from his injuries. Right now, his priority was escaping back to you and saving you from the degenerate god's plans.
"Though I praise thy strength, you are quite weak in mind, young yaksha!"
"What do you want?" Alatus clenches his fists, eye contact unwavering.
"Your complete obedience, is it not obvious?" He states, presenting a glowing contract to the yaksha, "In exchange, I leave your people alone." He knows this is a trap, he knows that the god is merciless towards his servants, yet as he thinks of you in the Shilin village, running up to him with a smile, he also knows that he would do anything for your sake.
"I.. am at your disposal." He grits his teeth, falling on one knee to a bow as the contract glows. It is complete. The god smiles wickedly at the display.
— Act 5 : Against the World —
Alatus followed orders like a puppet, unable to resist no matter how gruesome the act. The first time he consumed a dream, he sobbed on the body of a young girl who lay cold and dead. Disgust flooded his veins as he puked everything from his stomach; yet, no matter how hard he tries, the energy will always remain inside him.
His hands trembled from the weight of his bloodied polearm.
Hands that you once caressed so lovingly. How could he ever touch you again? 'It's fine,' he tells himself, 'murder is to be expected of war.'
He closes his eyes and thinks of you. Blurs out the screams and bloodshed around him. His body moves of its own accord but his mind is only littered with you.
Beautiful and energetic as you bake him a batch of mooncakes. Were you safe?
You're lighting up lanterns in the sky, telling him that it would guide the hunters back home. The twinkling of stars reflected in your eyes.
Alatus thinks of the nursery. Fine cedar wood making three little cribs. He's planning on making two more.
Where are you now? By the ocean, enjoying the breeze? Have you offered a contract to Morax yet?
He chokes a little boy. The boy splutters and grips at his wrists, but Alatus is just so so tired. He snaps the neck quickly. If this were the first time he's done it, he would have cried, but it's not the first nor is it the second-
Alatus stares at the burning village around him, a display of his sins.
Please be safe. He goes back to his master in silence.
— Act 6 : But the World Won —
When his fellow yakshas were captured as well, he grappled on their clothes, screaming at how could they leave the village alone; how could they leave you alone. The pressure of this damned contract choking him.
The end of his "master" was anticlimactic. The warrior god, Morax, arrived and the battle was quickly ended amidst stone mountains and cliffs.
Morax told them they were free — but the years of being a puppet were something not so easily forgotten. Before Alatus could leave in search of you, the geo god called him back.
"A young adepti asked for my aid through Guizhong," He started, "She drove a promising bargain. Your fellow villagers have safely integrated with our assembly, but..."
Time froze for Alatus the day Morax slowly explained what happened.
You were gone,
You were gone,
He left your side and while he was blinded with his sins, you died.
— Final Act : You —
The Wangshu Inn is a place full of mysteries! Or, at least, that's what they say. If you walk too far from the public lounges, amidst tree branches over staircases, you'd find a little secluded room.
A nursery with five little cribs made of fine cedarwood.
Don't ask how you got there. It haunted you— called out to you like a spell. You, who's been searching all your life for something someone you don't fully understand. You who's always felt half lost, half unfinished, like a puzzle without an image. You who woke up in the mountains of nowhere, wandering aimlessly.
Your fingers brush over one crib, noticing the intricate carvings on the wood.
"You're not supposed to be here."
You jolt, head snapping up at the sudden sound only to see a yaksha perched on the window.
"I'm sorry I just- this place.."
"Is off-limits. I suggest you leave."
You stare at him, eyes lingering on his golden cat-like ones. Something fills the missing pieces in your heart. Like puzzle pieces settling in the depths of the board, clicking into place. A slow realization that you've found yourself once again.
"I thought you only wanted three cribs, my love?" You smile at him and you see the way his jaw laxes, face falling apart as he slowly walks closer until he was right in front of you. His hand reaching out, almost afraid to touch the plush of your cheek.
"I told you... five sounds just fine."
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BEGONE FROM MY DRAFTS FOUL BEAST
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spadecentral · 1 year
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👑 Prince Promise | Leona Kingscholar x Reader
>> requested: no >> a/n: happy birthday Skai!!!!! love ya <3 also just a disclaimer im not that happy with the first couple of paragraphs so just pretend like its normal pls
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>> masterlist: savanahclaw >> summary: you and leona run away together to start a new life. unfortunately, a prince cannot always run >> reader prns: not specified >> warning(s): second person; fire; no dialogue;
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You, a royal gardener, had begun to catch Leona's eye. So when Leona had some free time, he had always fund himself staring over at you, whether it be from inside at a window or outside underneath a tree. And what was good about being an unwanted prince was that he had a lot of free time.
The way he watched you with loving eyes confused the royal workers. They had never seen the prince so smitten before.
The first time he talked to you, he was very nonchalant. At least, he was on the outside. If you were able to read his mind, or get past the fact that a literal prince was talking to you, you would have noticed how nervous he was. How nervous he was of fucking up. How scared he was of doing something wrong.
And you fell so hard for him. Like, head-over-heels hard. Like, I-will-rip-out-my-heart-and-serve-it-on-a-nice-fancy-china-plate-for-you-to-stake-a-knife-into hard. You fell for him so hard that it would be less painful for you to repeatedly hit your head on a brick wall several times.
He had already fallen for you, however. He was just waiting for you to catch up to him.
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When he suggested that the both of you run away together, you couldn't believe your ears. You? Run away with him? The prince of Sunset Savannah?
And what shocked you even more was the immediate yes that tumbled from your lips.
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The palace gardeners weren't surprised to find your bedsheets stripped from your mattress and your clothes nowhere to be seen the next morning. They had taken bets actually, on when you two would run away.
They knew that no one was going to accept some gardener as the partner to their prince, no matter how in love you were.
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You two had found a quaint little house on the outskirts of some small town, and Leona had bought it right away.
But to be honest, your first night in your own house with Leona was nerve-wracking. You still weren't accustomed to being in the same room with him all the time. And sharing a bed with him?! That was a completely new experience.
Though Leona could sense your uncomfortableness and had said several times that he could sleep on the couch if you wanted him to, you told him that it wouldn't be necessary. You wanted nothing more than to be near him. To be close to him. To be within two feet of him, holding his hand or brushing your fingers together.
And in that bed during the first night of your new beginning together, he had tenderly kissed you on the lips.
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The two of you had lived comfortably in that house for a little under a month at this point. It had worked surprisingly well, 'it' being your relationship. There was the perfect balance of responsibilities divided between the two of you. You had even started your own little farm in your backyard, growing lettuce, squash, and tomatoes.
Leona had left to grab some things from the village. Some cheese, sausage links, and a nice bottle of wine. You both we're going to celebrate one month together in the comfort of each other's presence.
Thankful he was finally able to leave the town square, he headed back home. Even though he was never really fond of the people in the village, he made due. For you.
He was about a third of a mile away from home when he knew something was wrong. The smell of smoke was too strong for you to have only set a fire in your fireplace.
Not caring about the food, he immediately dropped the bags and ran. Ran towards you.
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His stomach felt like it had dropped through his feet when he got to your home. Red and orange flames danced in the air as the building crumbled on top of itself.
He knew that you weren't going to make it out alive. But he still ran. Ran towards you. Ran towards home.
His tunnel vision was cleared when he was held back by palace guards.
And thats when he remembered something he had heard all the time when he was growing up. Something that his parents would always say to his retched brother.
"Son, it is like treason to not marry a person of a royal status. You must not break the hierarchy. No matter how much you love someone."
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An eye-catcher was never a good idea. Especially when you catch the eye of Leona Kingscholar. Not because of him. But because of the people who wish to keep him within arms reach.
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>> twst taglist: @tulipluvlettr | @ghost-hyacinth | @gh-0st-y | @ch3lun | @oseathepebble | @ventisaircurrent | @epelys | @pastelmages | @xphantasmagoriax | @atlasnessie | @divinesapph | @mystaposts | @ze-maki-nin | @v-anrouge
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howaboutcastiel · 2 years
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HowAboutCastiel's Fic Masterlist
I guess I’ve written enough fics that I kinda need to make one of these now 🤷‍♀️
Request Rules
Currently, I have fics published from the Moon Knight, Daredevil, Mandalorian, and Last of Us universes. Feel free to request beyond these fandoms, though <3
Star Wars
Din Djarin x Reader:
Out of This World (18+): You only get to see The Mandalorian when he comes to visit your cantina in Mos Espa. He seems to be finding more reasons to stop by.
The Apostate (18+): Din broke the creed. He removed his helmet and, as a result, opened himself up to possibilities he couldn’t have ever conceived of before. (Plus an expansion)
And Also With You (18+): As an ex-Jedi, you had found a good planet to hide on, and you were satisfied with the quiet. That was, until a mandalorian with a reputation wandered into your quaint little village.
Din Djarin x Cobb Vanth:
Find a New Way (18+): For the safety of his son, Din attempts to escape the cult he was raised in, with help from the sheriff of the next town over.
Moon Knight
Steven Grant x Reader:
All I Desire (18+): Reader has not been in a relationship in a while and is scared to have sex with Steven for the first time.
On My Command (18+): You want to wind down after a bad day at work, but Steven is over-eager as always.
Let Me Take It: (CW) You had a bad day that leads to a spiral. Steven tries to help you through it.
Set The Record Straight (18+): In the heat of an argument you imply that Steven is a pushover.
Helping You Through II
Hold Me Together: Hey! Could I make a request for one of the moon bois (your choice!) helping you out after you get home from a particularly rough therapy session?
The Tour Guide (18+): The reader has never been in a serious relationship, and now things are moving forward in her relationship with Steven.
From the Ground Up… Again (18+): After you were injured on a mission, Steven helps you get back on your feet with some tender love and care.
Marc Spector x Reader:
The Silver-Plated Moon: An overstimulating day away from your boys leads to a meltdown, causing you to accidentally break one of the most precious gifts you’ve ever received.
How Do I Ask? (18+): You loved the way that your boyfriend Marc made love to you. That being said, sometimes you longed for something… rougher.
Keep Me Warm: it’s cold outside. Like, really really cold. Marc doesn’t seem to mind, and he likes to tease you about your intolerance to the ice and wind.
A Reminder (18+): Marc x Reader x Layla. Thats it. That’s the plot.
Helping You Through I
From the Ground Up (18+): Getting lost on a mission is a terrifying experience. Being found in the nick of time by the man you love most is a captivating one. (Marc x Male!Reader)
Uncharted Territory: "I was wondering if you could do something with the reader and Marc are going to make love for the first time and she’s nervous bc she has SH scars and her and Marc never talked about that part of her life?"
Jake Lockley x Reader:
Make Your Acquaintance (Chaptered): You’re in a committed relationship with Marc and Steven, but have only heard of Jake through their descriptions. Intimidated by his reputation, you don’t know what to do when a mission gone awry brings Jake right to the front.
The Teddy Bear: The reader has a stuffed animal that they can’t sleep without. Embarrassed, they hide it away whenever their boyfriend, Jake, comes over.
Just a Bit Closer (18+): I was wondering if you could maybe do something with Papi Jake? Soft (only for his princess) Where the reader is craving some on-one time with him.
The Regular Surprise: (Extreme CW) On the night of a big town festival, she reaches her breaking point. A familiar face at an unfamiliar time may just be her last hope.
The Birthday Fic: It’s your birthday. You hope someone will remember.
Moon boys x Reader(2 or more):
Lunar Therapy Masterlist
Not My Intention: "maybe they’re at an office party and some guy comes to her when she’s alone and the boys get jealous since it’s obvious he’s trying to flirt with their girl."
The Birthday Fic: It’s your birthday. You don’t think anyone will remember.
That One Angsty Fic (TW): Sometimes you're your own worst enemy. The moon boys understand that, even when you don't at first.
I Can’t Help Myself (18+): Jake accidentally touches a cursed artifact while on a mission.
A Threatening Paradise: “Could you do a one shot where there’s an unwanted pregnancy scare eventually leading to a marriage proposal?”
Where’s Taweret When You Need Her?: You start your period and you don’t know how the boys are going to react to it.
Looking Good, Four Eyes: could you pls do a fic with the three moon boys where they’d see the reader with her glasses for the first time? 
Two Steps Forward (18+): A fun night with Jake ends up backfiring as Marc is triggered to front mid-coitus.
A Change of Heart: The reader is kidnapped by Harrow as leverage for Moon Knight to hand over the scarab.
Carry me home: Kicked out of your parents house at 16, you find yourself under the care of a cryptic taxi driver. (Jake Lockley accidentally adopts a teenager)
A Reminder: Layla and Marc punish you.
Kinktober 2022 Masterlist
Non-Insert
Fire Within My Soul (Chaptered): Marc and Steven have a lot to contend with after they return from Cairo. The one thing on their minds, though, is Layla El-Faouly.
More Than Alright (18+): it’s Steven and Layla’s first time together. He’s nervous.
Marvel
Matt Murdock
Having sex with Matt in a stairwell (headcanon)
The Last of Us
Joel Miller
The Robe and Crown [18+]: Joel and Tommy are raiders. Not by choice, not for the thrill. They’re doing what they must to survive. So why, then, is Joel letting you tag along when you’re just another mouth to feed?
That Good Old Way: Picking up right where The Robe and Crown left off, Joel has decided to stay with you.
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missmonsters2 · 1 year
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Between the Lines || XVII
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PAIRING: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader / WandaNat x Fem!Reader Summary: Vampire AU. Life has changed drastically since the 1600s. Things are always on the move, and you’ve been very careful to not get on SHIELDs radar. Living on the down-low owning a café, you’re content to live out a quiet existence. That is until the Avengers enter your life. [Set after the New York Invasion, in CAWS, and goes up to AoU. Canon divergent after.]
Warning: canon-level violence.
TATYANA'S NEW CHARACTER FACE
Note: What a long hiatus! Glad to be back <3 hope you all enjoy this wild chapter! Please remember taglists are gone but you can follow my library blog for notifs! <3
Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist || Library Blog || A03
PART XVII of XX
Count: ~8.5k
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The air smells different. 
You expected it to. The landscape has changed after so many years, but it has still thrown you off kilter. You haven't returned to Tatyana's grave site in many years. It was cowardly, but you just couldn't. 
You didn't feel like you had the right to. It felt wrong to have killed Tatyana and then sit at her grave and mourn. She would've loved it, though, and she'd probably want you to sit there uncomfortable and discontent. As much as it would've been a part of your punishment, you only visited a handful of times throughout the first couple of decades. You had less time once you encountered David, dealing with his newborn tendencies. 
"So, what exactly are we looking for? A gravesite?" Tony asks, his helmet coming off momentarily as he surveys the area. It looked like a quaint little town. Modernized with time, but it was still out in the countryside. The air was still brisk, but it was warming with springtime emerging. You hear children and their parents preparing for the day in the distance, and it’s rather nostalgic. 
"No," you shook your head. "I didn't bury her near anyone. I don't believe the villagers would've accepted having their murderer buried amongst their dead. There had been a flower field miles away that I laid her to rest at." You look around. "Although it's hard to tell if it will still even be there or if something was built over it."
"Can't you, like, I don't know—smell it?" Tony gestures at nothing in particular. 
You roll your eyes. "I'm not a bloodhound. This was centuries ago, there'd be nothing left to smell even if I could pick something up this far."
You keep walking, leading the group, because you smell something even if you can't smell Tatyana's grave. You have yet to mention it to the group since you're unsure what it could be and don't want to get everyone more riled up when they're already so tense. 
The moment you walk far enough between towns, an area excluded away from civilization just past the trees, something inside you clicks. 
"It's here," you furrow your brows. 
"What's wrong?" Natasha asks. 
"I—" but you can't finish the sentence as there are a thousand footsteps at once. On the other side of the clearing, vampires are marching.
"Shit," Steve says.
"Language," Tony says, but it lacks its teasing tone.
Everyone buckles up, raising their weapons as the vampires begin to pick up their pace into a run toward you. You and the team begin to run to meet them, but before either side can reach the middle, there's a strong blast of magic, hitting the ground and nearly splitting it. 
"I don't remember giving orders to move."
You smell her before you see her. 
Spice and hydrangea override your sensories. 
All you can smell is her—the memories. It's the smell of eggs, slightly burnt cinnamon, herbs, the laundry, the river, and grass, and no one could ever understand it, but you could smell the warmth. You smelled somewhere—someone you used to call home. 
Smelling her just felt like you were losing everything all over, and to see her? Your breath hitches in a way that feels like it's slicing against your lungs. 
"Fuck," you murmur. "It's really you." 
Tatyana descends upon the field, her soldiers parting to make way for her. She looks just the way she did those few blissful weeks before everything went downhill—before you lost her. Her defined cheekbones, mauve lips, and sage green eyes that felt like she could always see right through you. 
The field was noisy, settling down into a quiet murmur, but none of it mattered. None of it matters because Tatyana's eyes held yours as she looked at you as if it was just the two of you on the field. 
"My love," her husk voice whispers, but you can hear it clear as bells. 
You feel like you're being constricted, her voice and eyes strangling the life out of every thought you could have possibly been having that wasn't about her. 
Natasha watches the scene unfold before her, unsure what to make of it. She hasn't ever seen you like this, even as you talked about her. But perhaps this was the issue. You always talked about her in a past-tense fashion. Tatyana had been nothing but a wounded memory that left scars all over you. Even when you encountered her previously, she was always in someone else's body.
But now, she was in front of you, clearly alive and unchanged. Seeing Tatyana must've brought you back to the 1600s just before everything went awry. 
Natasha looks over at Wanda, who's struggling to decide what she feels. There's a definite burning hatred there. Wanda wasn't sure she could ever forgive the manipulations and the last encounter. And for a moment, she hated that she had done the same to others with her powers. Yet, there was a displaced longing. This woman was related to her by blood—another family member when she thought there was just Pietro.
"Sveti kurac," Pietro curses. "She really does look like you."
Tatyana turns her head then towards the twins, assessing them. "How misguided," she sniffs with a crinkle in her nose. Her accent is thick as she says, "she looks like me."
Wanda bristles at the tone and words. She could practically feel Tatyana's insinuation that Wanda was a poor imitation to replace her. She narrows her eyes, conjuring up her magic. 
"Feisty," Tatyana chuckles like it's some kind of joke. "It's precious you think you can beat me, child."
Heat floods Wanda at the condescending tone.
"I had the upper hand on this battlefield," Tatyana cocks her brow. "Don't tell me you fools came here thinking I wouldn't have cast runes all over this place."
"My magic's still working, is it not?" Wanda smirks as she raises her hand, sending a blast of magic forward, only for it to make it out a few feet before fizzling away.
Tatyana bursts out laughing, hand over her mouth before she slides it up her face and through her hair, smirking. She turns to look at you, "I know the alternative to you not showing up here would've been devastating, but you were a bad girl, not preparing them more to come here."
You were stricken but trying to gather yourself and not show it. You take a deep breath. "What exactly is it that you want?" You stare on with no emotion. 
It's then that Tatyana's expression changes. Gone with the amusement, and in came the narrowed anger. Her eyes narrowed, jaw clenched with a pinched brow. 
"Don't ask ridiculous questions," she hisses at you. 
"What?" You taunt her. "Don't tell me you're still chasing your delusional ambitions of ruling the humans." You look around, gazing at the improved artificial vampire army that seems to hover, just waiting for Tatyana's command. "They're better than the last batch, but they'll never be the real thing."
"I don't need them to be the real thing," Tatyana cocks her brow. "I just need them to get the job done." But Tatyana doesn't reveal exactly what job that is. 
You pinch your brows, trying to appear annoyed rather than shaken. "Tatyana, just—stop," you sigh almost pleadingly. "Let it go. Let go of your anger at the humans."
But Tatyana just laughs, and it's hollow sounding. "You must not think about me at all anymore if you think I'm angry at the humans." 
"Angry at me then?" You push. "There's nothing I could ever say to justify what I've done but I think the punishment you've left me and the fact that I'll live with what I did for the rest of my life is enough."
Tatyana just shakes her head. "I'm not going to talk about this here with you," she says and holds out her hand. "You've had your fun, and I've indulged your dalliances long enough. It's time to return to me."
There's a moment when you hesitate. There was a time in your life when this would've been all you wanted. You felt like you were walking around with half your spirit carved out for a long time. You missed Tatyana so bad some days that you wanted to join her, if not for Leo and then David. You would sleep if only to dream about a life where you and she had everything. Sometimes you would stay awake to avoid dreaming. Tatyana had been the rising and falling of everything to you.
But—you take a deep breath—that was just a moment in time. 
"No," you tell her softly, but you know everyone can hear it. "That time of our life is gone, Tatyana."
"Don't make me ask twice," Tatyana calmly states, keeping her hand out, but there's a wisp of blue around her finger as she curls it, beckoning you.
You feel the magic jerk you forward, and the titillating of your center of gravity throws you off from fighting it. But before you can move further, Natasha and Wanda grip both sides of your wrist, grounding you. 
You look gratefully at the two, your eyes soft as they smile back at you. 
The intimacy of it brings a wave of white, hot anger into Tatyana. "How dare you interrupt us," she hisses. 
"You made it everyone's business by bringing us all out here," Natasha gives her signature raised brow. "And it's certainly mine and Wanda's business. Hasn't anyone ever told you no means no? You're almost no better than a man at this point."
Tatyana narrows her eyes at Natasha, disgust written all over her features as she glares at the redhead agent. But she doesn't say anything, as if deigning that Natasha wasn't worth speaking to, let alone her time. 
Suddenly, she snaps her fingers. Without words, the army of vampires begins charging again, and everyone has their hands full. Natasha and Wanda have to let go of you to beat off the crowding vampires, but the short moment of their hold has you able to stand on your feet again. Tatyana can't use her magic to try to pull you again, not when you're used to her magic and can throw it off. 
Everyone's holding their own, and Tatyana seems to be refraining from joining the fight, and you're still trying to figure out why. You look around, and Wanda can only cast magic within a few feet of herself, meaning she has to be close to her enemies. Natasha's style of fighting naturally is close range. For the most part, everyone's is. With the exception of Pietro, who can run circles around everyone, and Tony, who can use his suit to fly, everyone is bound to the ground.
Tatyana seems to realize this within minutes of watching everyone fight. She uses magic to conjure something in her palms before sending multiple blasts toward Tony's. They hit him in quick succession at his feet and back. He can't move out of the way in time, busy above trying to shoot off two vampires on Steve's back. Nothing happens immediately. But then, roots begin to grow out from the bottom, breaking the repulsors in his feet, and he starts to drop from the sky. He tries to engage the jetpack in his back but nothing comes out. 
Tony instantly begins trying to use the repulsors in his hands to slow the fall, but he isn't flying high enough from the ground. He's going to land right into a horde of vampires waiting to rip him apart. Tony could send missiles to kill them, but he might get caught in the blast.
"Tony!" Steve yells, using his shield to brutally jab into a vampire's shoulder over and over to release his leg. He starts running, but Steve knows he's not going to make it in time, and it's chilling. 
"Steve!" Pietro yells as he begins to run. "Hold your shield up and brace yourself!" 
Steve doesn't even hesitate. The time spent hunting for Bucky with the young man has earned his trust. Pietro barrels into Steve’s back, keeping his feet planted on the ground as he uses his powers to run the both of them. Steve's shield barrels into the group of vampires, knocking them over with a brutal force from the speed.
When it looks like just the perfect spot, Pietro stops pushing Steve before grabbing his shield and using it to slam into the rest of the vampires surrounding the area. 
Steve catches Tony, but it knocks them both to the ground. You can hear the wind being knocked out of Steve's lungs, but it doesn't sound like anything is broken. 
"Just for that," Tony sounds breathless. "I won't make fun of you for a week."
"At least two weeks, Stark," Steve huffs as the two get up. 
Natasha only catches moments of it from the corner of her eye. She must be careful not to let the enemies in front of her land a blow. Wanda's got her back, but she can tell it's frustrating the young witch her powers are being limited. 
"I have to find where she cast the runes," Wanda says. "If I can, there's a chance I can destroy them and get my full magic back."
The advantage of that would be overwhelming and could lead them to a possible victory. So far, Tatyana has refrained from joining the fight, but they might all be fucked if that ever changed. 
As Natasha wraps her legs around a vampire's body, swinging her way up as she locks his neck in, she uses her widow bites to stun him as she works her way into breaking his neck. She uses that moment to look at how David and Liam are faring. 
David is easily holding his own, watching out for Liam, who stays at the back as support with his alchemy. He seems to be attempting to cast a big spell. 
Tatyana sneers as she realizes there's an alchemist amongst the group. "William! Are you going to stand back and have me do all the work?" 
You tense, expecting something to shift. When nothing happens after a moment, the tension in your shoulders relax just slightly. 
Suddenly, the air changes. 
When a man—no, a predator—steps out from behind a tree, you feel something horrible. 
If seeing the predator in you could make people feel the hair on the body stand, seeing him was like having the first layer of your skin peel off. 
"No need to get yourself in a huff," he rolls his eyes. "You're losing your touch, dear. You can't even take care of a few measly enhanced humans and two vampires?"
He was tall and muscular but not overly so. He had long black hair that would've been popular during the olden days, just sitting at his shoulders. He looked unassuming, but you knew better.
"Don't call me dear," Tatyana snaps at him, but he ignores her. 
Williams looks at you. "Hm," he hums. "You look familiar. Did I change you? But your venom doesn't quite smell like mine."
But you're wordless. 
All these years...these centuries, and this has never happened to you.
You've never bumped into a vampire older than you. 
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William changes the battlefield. What once might've been a possibility of winning quickly becomes closer to being annihilated. Both you and David team up to take on William, trying to be more strategic than using brute power that you both know won't win. 
Everyone's busy handling their own fights, but they can't help but watch for the first time to see you outclassed. You brought your elbow into William's rib while David had him in a headlock. Natasha knows that the force alone should've obliterated the bones into dust, and it would've if it were anyone else. 
But William merely grunts as he whips the back of his hand into your face, the force of it knocking you miles and miles away into the distance, breaking trunks of trees as you hit them.
Natasha and Wanda scream your name, horrified. They try to take off after you, but suddenly a horde of vampires conjugate into a wall in front of them by force. They look up and see Tatyana floating just above them, smirking. 
They all knew this was a possibility, that this was what Tatyana wanted from the beginning. Yet, seeing it happen and being so utterly unable to prevent it is devastating. 
"No!" Wanda yells in desperation. She turns around in circles frantically, looking for where Tatyana would've placed the runes. 
Natasha's trying to formulate a plan. If she uses her grappling hook, she can try to aim at the trees over the vampires. She might break a leg, but it was better than nothing, wasn't it? It was better than not doing anything at all and watching you be taken.
"I told you, you stupid, little human," Tatyana sneers. "You're only meant for one lifetime and that lifetime is over." She uses her magic to begin toppling the vampires down towards them, meaning to crush them. 
Natasha instantly turns to Wanda, running towards her and grabbing her before using the grappling hook. Pietro seems to notice them immediately as she shoots toward him. He moves out of the way of the hook that doesn’t catch anything but grabs onto the rope. With all his might, he runs with the rope, yanking it harshly to get them out of the way of the falling bodies. 
Wanda holds onto Natasha tightly, using her magic to create a barrier around their bodies to protect their necks and any damage done to their bodies as it hits the ground. 
Wanda wants to sob at the realization that you're gone. Natasha doesn't even feel like she has the time to process it as she watches William grab onto David's arm, crushing it under his grip.
David lets out a painful hiss as his grip loosens, and he's flung from Williams' back into the ground. It cracks as a tiny crater is formed where he lands. David can instantly feel all his ribs break, his legs are mangled, and the back of his head in danger of cracking. 
William turns back to where Tatyana took off, stunned that she had simply left and wasn't coming back for him. Rage overtakes his face as he realizes he's been abandoned.
"David!" Natasha yells, running towards him, but he screams at her.
"Don't you fucking dare come closer!" David yells, and it's the first time she's heard him curse like that. "Get out! Get out of here now!"
Natasha wants to scream that she can't—she can't just leave him there. You'd absolutely hate her for it. David seems to think something similar: you'll hate him if you let Natasha and Wanda die here. 
This line of work has always taught Natasha there were sacrifices, and you had to live with them. You don't get to question someone else's sacrifice. This was a losing battle, and the only way to survive was if they got to the Quinjet now.
But by the time that happened, what would be left of David? Could she get his brutalized body back from William so he could recover? There has to be some blood bags on the Quinjet, and she could give him her blood if not. He'd heal. He had to.
The idea of recovery gets shot to shit when William pulls out a wooden dagger. And they all know what it's made of. 
William means to end it and end it permanently. 
"Go!" David yells as William steps closer, hovering over David with his two arms raised, holding the dagger. 
Natasha doesn't want to watch, but she can’t tear her eyes away. Wanda's summoning her magic even though she knows she's too far away, and angry tears are spilling out of her eyes. Pietro starts to dig his heel into the ground towards David. Steve throws his shield to the speedster, who catches it with ease. Tony uses one hand to attack the vampires between him and Steve while his other repulsor is pointed towards William, charging up. 
Willam's speed nearly matches Pietro, his hands coming down so quickly.
It's over.
God, it was fucking over. 
.
.
.
Hiss. 
.
.
.
It was small at first. But then suddenly—
CRACK.
The entire field is lit up, lightning and vines zipping through them at an unstoppable force. They take hold of every artificial vampire in the area, grasping them in a vice-like grip. The lightning surrounds it in a second hold, squeezing tighter and tighter until they disintegrate. 
William only pauses momentarily at the change on the field before a blur barrels into him ferally. The air leaves his lungs with a grunt. He drops the dagger on the ground, and Pietro scrambles to grab it and take off. 
With no artificial vampires left on the field to battle, they all scramble toward David to help him. 
They all watch, stunned. 
The two bodies rolled on the ground over and over until William landed with force on his back. 
And Liam on top.
Liam's eyes were pitch black, and his fangs bared as he snarled at William, snapping his jaws at him. William was surprisingly having a difficult time pushing Liam away, and it seemed Liam was using all his strength and alchemy to force William down. 
It wasn't until Liam managed to bite into William's forearm that the man let out a piercing scream as poisonous venom was injected into him. Liam held tight, nearly taking a chunk out of William's arm before he released, biting again just a few inches over. 
William began punching Liam in the head with his other arm until he was released. He crouches his legs in, pressing them against Liam’s pelvis as he uses them to knock Liam off of him.
Liam gracefully flips over and lands on his feet. Blood spilled out of his mouth and down his chin as he stood, and he wiped it away on the back of his hand.
"Leave," Liam growled, his eyes still black. "You won't win today."
William considers staying to fight, but he looks at the vines, still moving around. Also, the venom in his arm still pulsates with burning pain. He sniffs. He needs Liam's venom to reverse it; it's not his—
But then William narrows his eyes.
"You."
Liam doesn't respond to it, merely repeating, "Leave."
William snarls at the loss.
“Your venom,” William spits. “You know I can only delay the inevitable.”
Liam nods and they both tense as he blurs over to William, biting his hand before he runs back to create distance between the two. 
William only gives him a withering glare before he turns and disappears.
Liam turns, and they all watch, slack-jawed. His eyes are still black, and it makes everyone's hackle rise. But it's like he doesn't register them; he just keeps walking until he's kneeling in front of David.
Liam assesses the damage to see if his venom can fix it temporarily. When he determines it can't, he bites deeply into his own wrist. When he releases, blood starts overflowing, and he immediately places it over David's mouth, who begins to drink greedily. 
"What are you doing?" Natasha finds her voice first. 
"Blood-sharing," Liam answers. "The blood in his own body is already working overtime and its priorities will always be major organs and the head. I fed before we came, so it should be potent enough to at least heal his arms, legs, and some of his ribs."
"You shouldn't," David mutters weakly, trying to speak and not let any blood escape his mouth. "You'll end up feral if you give me too much."
Natasha quickly connects the dots to why David didn't blood-share during the aftermath of Ultron. 
Liam smiles weakly, his eyes slowly returning to normal when it seems like David will be okay. "We'll make do."
"If it's not enough, I'll give you mine," Natasha offers without hesitation. 
David smiles thankfully at her. It's then that the Quinjet comes into view with Pietro flying it. 
"We...we can't leave," Wanda suddenly says, her eyes welling with tears again. "We can't leave without her."
The heavy loss of you settles over everyone. 
"It's okay," Liam says before he lifts his wrist away from David, licking the wound and sealing it up. "Tatyana won't hurt her. She probably can't even take her outside the city."
"How do you know?" Wanda hisses.
"Who the hell are you?" Tony finally asks. "Aren't you supposed to be human? What the hell was all of that?”
"You're clearly older than our two vampires. You're as strong as that William guy," Steve says carefully, assessing the vampire before him.
Liam sighs, running his hand through his hair. "I was William's apprentice. I only got the advantage with all your help to distract him and the fact he was blindsided from seeing me again. If it had just been me, it's possible even my alchemy couldn't kill him."
Liam looked directly at Natasha and Wanda.
"William is my maker, but I'm Elaine's."
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Everyone is sitting back in the Compound, nursing their wounds. They sit around Tony's lab as he silently works on repairing his suit, and Tony is uncharacteristically quiet. 
Steve was wiping blood from his brow, inspecting if the cut on it needed to be stitched back together. He, Tony, and Pietro were planning on heading back out to see if they could find any traces of you. 
Steve's phone blinked with a message that he quickly checked from Sam.
Found him. Slippery little bastard, but I'll see if I can set a trap.
Steve lets out a tiny smile before sighing and putting away his phone. He feels disconcerted that you've been taken. He wonders at this point if you and Bucky will ever get to meet. 
"Speak now," Wanda hisses, "and speak quickly."
"What are you?" Natasha asks without hesitation. "How can you be a vampire and also use alchemy? Those seem to oppose each other if one is meant to be a power to be able to protect themselves from the other."
"How the hell could I not sense you were a vampire?" David mutters, mostly to himself in disbelief. "Vampires are always able to sense each other. It's like a primal instinct that we recognize in each other. And I never saw you feed and we were together almost all the time!"
Liam sighs, almost overwhelmed by all the questions directed at him. "Alchemy is a neutral power but only humans are able to receive it. It has to do with their natural blood. Humans, specifically priests, just used it as so to protect themselves from being prey. I had the gift for it as a human, but it was too weak to fully manifest. Once I was turned, the venom in me unlocked something."
Turning to David, he looked apologetic before pointing to the alchemy spells down his left arm. "This keeps an illusion spell up. It makes it so you can't recognize the predator in me, but I have to be careful because if I force any kind of vampire instincts like bloodlust up, it breaks through the spell. I don't have to feed as often as you being as old as I am, but when I did, I took advantage of the times we were apart."
The room is silent, trying to process the information. Steve and Tony left to see if they could find any trace of you and if they could find any information about where William would be hiding. 
"Let me start from the beginning," Liam sighs. "About who I am and everything that has happened to come to this moment."
Wanda has her lip curled in disdain but doesn't say anything. Natasha places her arm on Wanda's elbow, and the girl softens just a moment, leaning into the spy as they all quiet to listen.
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Flashback
~1400s to 1600s~
The world was an unnaturally quiet place. At least to Liam. The markets were bustling, and people constantly moved during the day, but that noise never registered with him. Liam took in the days slowly with little to no rush, despite how much it would annoy his father and siblings. 
But being the youngest did come with perks. They were generally much more lenient with him, and his mother seemed to hide the fact she'd allow him a taste of whatever was being made for the day first. It was a quiet life, and Liam hadn't minded one bit.  
Despite the feeling that something was rumbling just underneath his skin and the crops he grew were always somehow much better than everyone else's, Liam liked his quiet life. 
Moments of curiosity beckoned him to venture outside their quaint little farm and markets. Sometimes he stood out at the edge and looked out as if he could see anything beyond the horizon. 
He couldn't leave, though. 
Even if Liam wanted to see what he could do outside of growing crops, his family didn't need the uncertainty of waiting for him.
But just like how their little life was quiet, death comes just as quietly. Famine spreads through their lands, and Liam only manages to keep the crops alive a little longer than everyone else. One by one, they starve to death. 
Being the youngest was a curse, always being given everything there was until he was the last one standing. Hunger gnawed at his stomach as he finally ventured past their quaint little farm and markets. 
Hungry. 
He was so hungry.
Liam thought about what he could do. Should he try to grow more crops? But the land had suddenly become unsuitable. He was quick with picking up things. Maybe he could try to find a merchant and learn the trade. Only can't remember the last time he saw a merchant pass by. Perhaps he should find a temple and look for work there. He'd have to shave his head, though.
And even as he stumbled upon a gruesome feeding man feeding on another man, Liam stood there motionlessly. 
"Oh," the amused voice turned to look at him. "What have you stumbled upon, lost little boy?"
The words were difficult to understand. The man was white-skinned, clearly not from around here, but he had stayed long enough to learn the language from the locals. 
"I'm not a boy," Liam shook his head and replied slowly so the man could process his words. His voice felt raspy from the lack of use. 
"Could've fooled me," the man laughed lowly. "I can practically see your bones. You wouldn't even be a good feed."
"How can you eat him?" Liam asked as he looked upon the dead body, neck ripped open with blood running down. "Won't you get sick?"
The man raised his brow in amusement. It was strange that Liam didn't seem perturbed, but he supposed they had been experiencing famine for quite some time now. At this point, it was probably eat or be eaten.
"I won't get sick," the man told Liam, smiling sinisterly. "I'm a demon. I will never starve because there will always be blood."
It was quiet for a long moment, and the man wondered if Liam would turn to run. Liam was sweating at his brow and lip half-turned in a frown. Maybe he was too weak to even run away. 
The man thinks that the thought of eating him doesn't even seem appealing. Maybe he'll just kill him and be on his way. 
"Can I become a demon too?" Liam finally asks, locking eyes with the man, not flinching from their glowing redness. "If I become a demon, then I can live, right?"
The man stared, mouth agape. He starts laughing before he drops the body he's holding. "Fascinating, fascinating," he crooned. "It certainly won't be for free."
"I don't have money," Liam told him immediately. "If I had money, I would be searching for food to buy."
The man snorts. "I don't need money. Anything in this world is mine to take." He walks a slow circle around Liam. "What I want is an apprentice. I have plans, and my last one...didn't last very long."
Liam nodded. 
The man smiled, but there was no comfort from it. "I must warn you, I don't have the patience to change you slowly. This will burn." He stepped closer, grabbing a fistful of Liam's hair and yanking his head back. "Welcome to the coven. My name is William, but you will refer to me as master."
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷
William was a radical. There was no telling how long William was around since he rarely spoke about himself. All Liam knew was that William wanted more demons like him. Secretly, Liam could only surmise that being alone for so long must've been lonely. Being lonely for too long does something to your head.
A century passed by. It didn't feel as quiet as it did when Liam was human. It felt like something was pulsating under his skin, making his bones ache. Liam encountered many priests before, seeing what they called ‘God's power.’ The more they used it around him, the more something inside him resonated—the more it felt like something was about to come out. 
But Willi—his master would kill him. If Liam did what he believed he could, he would die for it. 
So, Liam started to study the priests from a distance. When he encountered them, he watched with rapt what they were doing, what they drew, and how they moved. When he finally got his hands on one of their 'incantation and hymn' books, he felt something different about his life for the first time. 
Liam felt awake. There was a constant stream of excitement in his mind. He could copy the drawings in the book, but he needed someone to teach him how to read the incantations. The world had always moved so slowly, and now Liam couldn't help but want it to move faster.
The only time he could practice was when his master was away. Despite the initial resistance, Liam convinced William that building networks with humans was better. If he wanted to create more demons, then they needed more space. 
They needed land and money and their influence to keep the pitchforks and fire away. It was much slower to accomplish, but it was working well. 
Humans were naturally suspicious beings. Too much compulsion and out-of-the-ordinary behavior would have the priests marching right to them. 
"How dare he!" 
Liam folded the paper he was drawing on and slipped it into his pocket as he turned around to see William barge through the door and slam it shut. 
"What's wrong, master?" Liam asked, no inflections in his tone. 
"That Baron Hastings—" William huffed, and his face was flushed with anger. "Not only did he laugh at my proposal to invest, he actually dared to convince others not to invest, saying it was a dupe!" 
Liam said nothing. Even though he knew whoever this Baron was, he was correct. 
"Your idea of this route was foolish!" William gritted out before he ripped off his hat. "I've had enough of this sham. Tonight, we will raid Baron Hasting's estate and take him for all he has."
"Yes, master," Liam tilted his head in acknowledgment. There was no use trying to refute anything William said when he was in this state. He was rather impressed since it was at least a decade since the last time he's lost his temper like this. 
The raid had been like it was every other time. The smell of massacre stopped making him nauseous long ago. Liam prefers to kill the servants by snapping their necks and only taking a bite or two out of them, if only to appease William. The overindulgence was intoxicating for a few short years before Liam decided that the smell of their fear during the massacre didn't make them taste as good. William thought otherwise.
As he finished up, he could hear something outside at the stables, but it was mostly covered by the sound of the Baron's wife screaming bloody murder. She wouldn't stop even as William threatened to kill her slowly if she didn't silence herself. 
Liam took off out the back. The Baron did well for himself, seeing a small stable holding three horses. He wondered who the third horse was for since the Baron and his wife had no children, and it couldn't have been for any of the servants. 
Then he gazed upon something he wasn't sure he'd ever seen. 
You were shaking and crying in your fine, silk-green gown. You were well-groomed and obviously spoiled with luxury. 
A mistress of the Barons, perhaps? How bold of you to be here while his wife was. But Liam inhaled deeply and tilted his head in confusion. While he did smell the Baron on you intimately, he could also smell the wife in the same way. The wife's scent was all around you, over you, inside you.
Strange, Liam thought. He didn't know that was possible. 
"Please..." you whispered, eyes closing as you could hear a woman's scream again, tears running down your eyes. But you don't continue your sentence.
His bones felt achy again. 
"Can you read?" Liam asked, causing you to look up unsurely. You looked like you wanted to bolt to see if you'd make it, but you stayed rooted.
You nod shakily nonetheless. "Yes, a little. The Baron and his wife were teaching me."
Liam nodded. "Master won't teach me to read."
You swallowed, trembling. You obviously were confused as to why this...this demon was talking to you instead of killing you. "Have you asked?"
Liam shook his head. "He doesn't like it if I do other things. If I ask, he'll just be angry. He only taught me this language because it makes it easier for him."
You were gripping the horse's reins tightly. "If you don't want to follow him, why do you?"
There was a blank look as Liam stared at you. "Master made me as I am. I'm not strong enough to beat him."
"Have you tried?"
"If I try and fail, then I'll die."
"If he's too strong, then you need to be smarter. The Baron says being smarter and playing the long game is far better than being stronger."
The words settle upon Liam like a blanket. His eyes sparkle as if he knows that he's smarter, and despite being a mere human, it was like your permission to be so was all he needed.
There was a heavy, pregnant pause. 
"You can leave," Liam told you, gesturing back to the screaming with his head. "If you leave now, the master will probably not notice you. But you can't leave with the horse as it will make too much noise. You must walk, not run. Your heart is already beating so loud and running will make it worse."
"I—" you started to say but choked. The tears that welled up in your eyes earlier fall over your already tear-stained face. "I can't leave without them."
Liam tilted his head. "Why not?"
"The baroness is screaming so I can leave," you told him, choking on your sob. "The moment we heard the break-in, The Baron pushed us both out the back, but the Baroness knew we both couldn't escape. She left me here and went back in."
"Then you should leave," Liam reasoned. "If she did it for you, you should live."
"Just to die another day," you muttered, wiping your tears. "How do you leave the first person to show you that kind of love? I—I can't. I should be in there too."
Liam ponders the words. He kind of understands. He loved his family as much as he could. It was hard to leave their bodies behind, but he kept moving because they had given him every last morsel so he could keep going. 
And while you did not show him anything remotely close to love, you did show him something. And the ache in his bones made him feel like he shouldn't leave you behind. Playing the long game, as you said, will require time. And in the end, Liam knows he can't do it alone. 
"Then die as a human and join them," Liam resounded before he blurred over to you and bit your neck, releasing his venom. There was no scream from your mouth, just your jaw dropping in shock. The taste of fear in your blood repulses him a little, but he hangs on, draining you. He was sorry—genuinely sorry—unlike his master, who warned him with false regret in his voice. Liam was sorry that your change would be painful. 
When Liam felt your pulse nearly stop, he released you. He looked back at the house that was slowly becoming quieter. The screams quelled. He hopes you don't remember much of this. 
Tonight, you'll die as a human and join the Baron and Baroness. 
Then...then you'll wake up a demon, and the long game begins.
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Natasha and Wanda feel breathless as they listen to Liam. You told them your side of the story when you were changed, which was very little as you didn’t recall much outside of waking up with a burning pain and smelled the massacre.
To hear it from Liam’s side was…they didn’t know how to describe it. It made them want to hunch over and scream. 
"I watched her in secret for many, many years. I managed to drag William from town to town. Not too close, obviously. That's how Tatyana and William met, I believe. I thought that Tatyana would've joined to get rid of William, but..." Liam rubbed the back of his head and didn't finish the sentence. "When Tatyana died, and Elaine became close to that priest, I saw it as an opportunity. I needed to learn alchemy and that priest and his family were going to be the only way. So, I escaped and went into hiding. William eventually stopped looking and continued to travel further away from me."
"How were you even able to get close without alerting them?" David asks with a frown. "She would've sensed you for sure if you didn't have your alchemy tattoos yet."
Liam shakes his head. "Your senses don't react the same way when you're near your maker. When you said you can always sense the predator in a vampire, what's actually happening is your venom senses other venoms. Your venom is unique to you, but it did come from your marker. Therefore, you can't sense it very well because your venom sees it as an extension of itself. While venom is unique to yourself, it does recognize shared venom. When you bite someone, only your venom can fully counteract it. But anyone in the same venomline as you can delay the poisoning, like a partial healing."
"Huh," David hums, holding his chin. "You learn something new every day. That explains why I never felt any alarms or hackles rise when I saw her. I thought it was because I recognized her as a coven mate, but that makes more sense when vampires form their own coven by changing others versus outsiders banding together."
Liam nods, smiling at David before continuing his story. "I learned a lot from Leonard by just watching and listening to him teach his children. They continued their traditions and upheld alchemy for a very, very long time. Until a child came that didn't have a gift, and they couldn't bear any more children."
"Robert," Natasha realizes, recalling the priest they met in Nashville. Liam nods. "He said you were adopted. They must've adopted you and thought you were, what, 17 at the most? How did you manage that? You look..." Natasha trails. "Older."
"The documents I forged officially said so, but I did learn enough fundamentals of alchemy to experiment on my own to change some of my features," Liam reveals. "I think his grandfather suspected but never attempted to find out. I was a prodigy once I had proper teachings and although awkward, sincere."
"Did you know?" Wanda demanded immediately. "Did you know Tatyana was alive?"
Liam is silent initially. "I suspected," he admits. "I couldn't quite keep tabs on William after I escaped, but his behavior was strange weeks leading up to Tatyana's death."
"We couldn't find even a trace of them." Steve and Tony burst through the doors together, looking tired, angry, and defeated. The news of your disappearance sets off everyone in the room. Angry tears well up in Wanda's eyes, that feeling of loss at her door again. 
And she is so, so fucking tired of losing.
"You knew," Wanda hisses at Liam, malice laced in her tone. Her lips were pursed, and her eyes narrowed in an accusatory manner. "You knew all along that Tatyana was alive and would eventually come after us."
Wanda's eyes began to glow, her magic manifesting around her in angry, red wisps. "You knew and you let Tatyana take her!" Her magic bursts towards Liam, grabbing him like a vice. His body stiffens and jerks in her hold as he releases a gasp of pain.
"Wanda, wait!" David calls out to her, but it doesn't register. He tries to grab Liam to pull him out of Wanda's grasp, but he can't get Liam to even budge. David turns to everyone else in the room, but everyone is conflicted about whether or not to step in after finding out the truth about Liam. Steve looks like he wants to step in, but the anger about losing you keeps you rooted. He wants answers, and if Wanda can get them from Liam, he'll stay in place with his arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed.
"Nat," David turns to the redhead instead, his eyes pleading. "Please. Liam must've had his own reasons for not saying anything. We need all the help we can get." 
Natasha purses her lips. She'd be more than content to let Wanda rip Liam to shreds. She's so unbelievably angry to the point where it feels like hot needles are pricking her and boiling her blood. You were right there. You had been right there in front of her, and Natasha lost you. There was nothing she could've done to save you, and that's what makes Natasha the angriest.
But it's the years of experience—the training she's endured all her life— that she can put aside her emotions and be rational. Natasha gently places her hand over Wanda's clenched hand. The warmth of her skin makes Wanda look at her, the anger in her eyes slowly dimming as she stares into Natasha's gentle look. 
The red glow disappears from Wanda's eyes, the wisp drawing back into her. She releases Liam from her grip, still glaring at him as he falls into David's arms. Liam's slightly hunched over, trying to regain his breath. 
Natasha feels Wanda slip her hand into hers, and the warmth that seeps out is comforting. She coolly turns her head towards Liam, chin jutted upwards. "As much as I would like Wanda to give your comeuppance, you hold valuable information. You better have a plan or have some knowledge of how to save her and get rid of Tatyana for good."
Liam recovers from Wanda's attack as he gives a slight nod to David that he's okay and stands straight. "I had never intentionally planned for anyone to be kidnapped," he emphasizes, having the consciousness to at least look guilty. "I didn’t reveal myself because I wasn’t sure how Tatyana had been listening in. I truly believed that Tatyana was working with William to overthrow the humans. I'm not sure what changed, but it's clear that Tatyana abandoned William and had no intentions of creating sustainable creatures for his army again."
Natasha and Wanda look at each other for a brief moment. They recall the moment William had looked betrayed. The anger that rushed into William's eyes and the heat that pulsated through him—there was no way that was a part of their plans. 
"Tatyana was able to recreate her body, but there definitely had to be a price paid," Liam continues. "I could feel something different about her, something not human. We need to find out exactly what she did to recreate her body because it was unlikely she was actually able to preserve it after she was killed. If we can find out, we can find a counter spell to undo it."
"That's if we can even stop her from using her magic," Natasha shakes her head. "Every time that woman casts a spell, we're always fucked."
"There has to be a spell to nullify her powers or stop her from using them," Liam thoughtfully says before sighing. "It's a shame we don't know any more witches. Usually, each coven has its own spell book."
"I'm sure I can figure something out," Wanda rubs her brow, a tiny headache forming. "Let's just form a plan first to find William and lure Tatyana out." 
"In the case that there is another army waiting, we need to figure something out. If Tatyana won't create more vampires for William, he might just turn to the old fashion way of changing people. Even just a dozen of them will be troublesome for us, especially if they turn out to have gifts. The more time we lose, the more time he has to change people," Steve points out.
"What was that wood you said could kill you?" Tony asks David. "The...meth...metha...methu...the meth tree."
David gives Tony a look before he rolls his eyes. "Methuselah."
"That's what I said," Tony smirks. "If I can get my hands on a sample of it, I could probably turn it into something more effective to kill vampires...uh..." Tony paused. "Obviously not you guys, though. I'll work something out."
David wishes you were here to laugh at Tony. He lets out a deep sigh before he locks his eyes with Natasha and Wanda. "I'm going to find her," he promises them. "There isn't any place in the world Tatyana can hide her from me."
"How are you so sure?" Wanda frowns. She knows of his abilities, but Tatyana is a witch. They could be in a hut with no technology around.
David smiles, although sheepishly. "I have trackers in both her molars."
"What?!" Natasha narrows her eyes at David. 
"It's fine!" David insists. "She knows, and I have trackers in both my molars too. Sometimes we do really stupid shit, and on two separate occasions, we couldn't find each other, and well—" David shrugs.
They all stare at him.
"Anyway, it's not always on," David says as if that should be obvious. "We just activate it when we can't find each other. I've reactivated it since we returned back here. It just takes some time to ping down a location even if I'm a technopath. The further she is, the longer it takes but we'll know soon."
They all continued to stare at him.
Tony finally opens his mouth to speak.
"You two are fucking weirdos."
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tacticalhimbo · 1 month
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Howdy hey @pheedraws , I'm your bloody valentine for this year's event held by @carlosoliveiraa !!
I had a really fun time learning about Ilona and her tense history with the rest of the family, but especially that with Heisenberg. I hope I managed to capture their push-and-pull kinda dynamic, and I hope you enjoy this! <3
Let me know if you'd like a more permanent copy of this, too! I'm always happy to provide a PDF version of the writings I do :3
Under the cut for length! (this ended up being almost 2k words hehe)
The coldest of the winter months had finally approached, thickened blankets of snow encapsulating the quaint village and its surrounding wilderness. Winds howled through the distant trees, sinking low into the narrow pathways between buildings, carrying a flurry of snow with it. Crystalline sculptures shimmered in the sun's overcast light as they fell, drawing attention to the way they'd gathered in a nearly blinding landscape. Dark stonework was accentuated by the vibrant snow, just as the flourishing pine needles were. Gnawing as the chill that lingered in the air was, there was, too, an odd comfort to its overwhelming presence. A comfort that, as the sun eventually began to settle behind the horizon and the village began to grow quiet, encouraged a few intriguing residents to take in the stillness of it all. To wander through the sparse lantern glows and out into the moonlit wilderness, abandoning the set paths for something more organic; less explored. Distant lycan howls set the boundary for it all, warnings of what may happen if one were to straggle too far away from the epicenter.
Yet even that comfort did not explain how, or why, Ilona found herself in the fields adjacent to the run-down, albeit functioning, factory on the village's outskirts.
There was no comfort in the metallic whirs and groans. No comfort in the prospect that, should fate decide to be a particularly cruel mistress, Ilona run into the factory's owner—or one of his creations. It was still up for debate which would have been worse, frankly. The hostility of the mechanical beings was simple in its nature. Programming kicking in as rusted mechanisms sputtered to life. A mere reflection of their created purpose: Defense. Lord Heisenberg's hostilities, on the other hand, were bred of arrogance. Full of malcontent. It was intentionally designed to get under the skin of whatever poor soul ended up on the other side of that wolfish grin. Yet that, too, proposed another discussion of whether it would have been better to be maimed physically, or walk away with a wounded ego. Regardless, the answer was lost as well-placed speakers crackled to life. As that grating, smug voice rang out across the field.
"Well well, what do we have here? A late night visitor, all the way from her mighty home in the comforts of the village. And what do I owe the pleasure?"
Dark eyes narrowed. "You don't. I was just leaving."
"Is that so? I don't know, might be dangerous to head back so late. Heard there's lycans about." The fact was spoken as if it were a rumor, words shadowed by a low purr resonating from the man's chest as he teased. It earned nothing more than a scoff and the roll of the woman's eyes, back turning to the building as she began to make her way down the field.
That was, until a series of rustling in the treeline created a pause. Brought Ilona to a stop as her annoyance only grew. There was no proof of it, and it was something so unlikely to consider, yet she couldn't help but clench her jaw at the prospect that—by some account—Karl had set something up to lure them. Or was it so simply as him setting up his fancy little radio, and daring to open that mouth of his? Whatever it was, two paths lay before her: Take her chances and throw herself to the 'wolves', or begrudgingly wait out the pack's hunt in that cursed factory. While the first option was infinitely more tempting, there was a weariness beginning to weigh on her shoulders. The biting cold that began to properly creep under the layers of cloth and tug at her skin; it was enough for her to begrudgingly turn herself back up the path. And hearing the static of the speakers was enough for Ilona to almost consider turning back once more. Instead, she simply glared to the closest one, sat upon the corner of the decrepit brick.
"Don't even. Just shut up and open the door already."
And, as instructed, the rustled mechanisms groaned as the factory's doors slid open, allowing the warm air from within to bleed out across the shrinking distance. Allow the whines and creaks to overwhelm the immediate landscape alongside it, subtly encouraging a quickness in the woman's steps. The lycans had heard it, too. Paused their consumptions to perk their heads toward the sound, feral eyes fixated in wait. Yet no meal came to them, and they'd simply returned to the chilled leftover at their claws' end as Ilona found herself walking right into the hands of her…
Adversary? Acquaintance? Whatever it was Heisenberg was today. And, based on the way he'd sauntered out of the distant shadows, allowing the dim light in the entry to illuminate him, it was leaning toward the former.
The brim of his worn hat concealed his features from the light, yet there was a subtle sort of glow to those fixated eyes of his. A near-clear view of the wolfish grin that stretched his skin and scrunched his nose.
"I would ask what pleasure I owed, but something…" his voice trails as he steps closer, leering at Ilona, "Something tells me it would be a wasted attempt at conversation. What could possibly have your petals so ruffled, buttercup?"
He knew. She knew that he knew. And yet, he pressed. Instigated. Ilona sighed and waved off the idea of giving him fuel. Of airing her grievances. 'It's because I'm stuck here. With you of all people.'
"It's not important, Karl." But there was no harm in a little nudge. A subtle jab that would get just far enough under his skin to keep things calm enough for the time being. Just far enough to cause his lips to curl and teeth to bare. Still, he did well to conceal the bitter feeling at being referred to so… personally.
"Oh, I'm sure it isn't. Surely it's nothing, if that pout of yours is anything to judge by. Or the little furrow of your brows." It seems he, too, is returning the nudge. Both in the metaphorical sense, and in the literal, especially as a gloved finger comes to roughly jab at Ilona's shoulder before he draws back.
It brings a more prominent scowl to the woman's features as she sighs, head shaking as she looks around for something—anything—else to preoccupy herself with amidst the mess. Piles of unsorted scrap are all that await her, and the prospect of scraping her hands against the rough metal isn't exactly appealing. So, instead, she simply pretends Heisenberg isn't there. Walks past him to, with some hesitation etching into her muscles, find a different area to plant herself in. Perhaps somewhere with a piece of proper furniture. With something less grimy to entertain her as the moon traverses the night sky and leads the sun along with it. It'd be too much to ask for a corner of the factory without Heisenberg, or his influence, especially as he trails along behind her, but at this point taking her chances with (another) Soldat would be preferable to the grating voice and smug laughter. Thankfully for both of them, much as neither would admit it, it doesn't come to that. Rather, through some rather subtle corralling on Heisenberg's part, the duo has found themselves in his personal alcove. Amidst the messy workbenches, scattered papers, and a rather intriguing wall of connections between the ragtag group. Red strings illuminating the relationships between their fucked up little family. Stiffened pieces of scrap that appear to have been thrown, and with quite some force, to decorate the spaces around Miranda's portrait. And, amidst the others, a smaller portrait of hers. A recognition that she was, willingly or otherwise, an important part of the dynamic. One that sat unmarked, highlighted by an uncertain air.
Friend, or foe? Ally, or enemy? To spare, or to tear down with the rest of them all? In a way, there was almost reassurance in that hesitation exhibited by Heisenberg. Something about the fact these waxing and waning feelings were, in a way, mutual. An intriguing series of questions echoed in her head as she'd stepped over to unpin her visage from the board. To allow her fingers to trace the weathered edges of the film as the candlelight found them. Heisenberg watched, biting his tongue for once and simply opting to bring himself back to organizing the remnants of his current project.
"So you do like me?" A tease, highlighted with an essence of genuine curiosity.
"Alive, perhaps. Jury's still out on if it goes any further, or if that's where the answer stays." Too, a tease, though there was a lingering bitterness in his voice. A seriousness that betrayed him. As it stood, he had no idea whose side she would fall on. And, albeit deep, deep down, that lack of clarity made him uneasy. Still, he did well to mask it, turning to lean with his back against the workbench, wrench twirling between gloved fingers. "For now, I suppose I could say yes."
Ilona's arms fold across her chest. "It never is quite a straight answer with you, is it?"
"Of course not. How else do you expect I keep everyone on their toes?" That wolfish grin of his spreads across his features once more, his own arms mimicking the movement of hers. "Especially now. With so many hours to kill. You wouldn't want things to be boring, would you?"
"I'd almost prefer it." Still, there's a subtle shift in her tone that betrays the minute enjoyment she receives from their bickering. A hint of potential for missing it, should things lead them astray from one another's path. "Fine, keep me on my toes all you'd like. Just don't be surprised if it grows tired. After all, not everyone is as devoid of basic manners as you are."
"So you've said, and so I continue to ignore."
Neither would expect any less from him. From one another. And as the hours passed, it remained just as so. Ilona attempting to mind her business while perusing the various work-in-progress projects scattered about. Karl finding himself particularly itchy with the urge to bother her, remind her how unfortunate the circumstances were to be stuck within his domain. A few back and forths. A few nudges and prods. Little things that ultimately left the two ever envigorated as the sun rose and the woodlands cleared, allowing for Ilona to return herself to the Village.
And for once, the two had parted on fairly decent terms. How long that lasted, only time would tell.
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