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lovesickeros · 8 months

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☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 2 ]

{☆} characters furina, neuvillette {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 1.9k {☆} previous [ 1 ]

This had to be a punishment of some sort – some kind of divine punishment.

She was bored out of her mind just watching the sleeping body – she hadn't blinked once in the past five hours, her eyes were really starting to hurt. Yet they still hadn't moved so much as an inch since she sequestered them away to the only place she had known to be safe.

But it'd been almost a week since then.

The only solace she found was that Teyvat had seemed much less hellbent on collapsing in on itself like a dying star.

That counted for something.

Not much, but something!

..Even if their position was no better then it was a week ago.

There was, after all, still the issue of what to do about the false Creator – the actual imposter – and the Archons following them like blind lambs. The other Archons wouldn't listen if she tried to reason with them, and it would only risk the life of Divine One if she spoke of their location to anyone else.

She also was pretty fond of having her head still attached to her shoulders.

So she avoided them all together. Partially because she wasn't sure she wouldn't have a breakdown at the sight of them..she'd never been a fighter, and fighting an Archon? Easy pass.

Instead she was forced to babysit the sleeping Divine until they woke up while Neuvillette handled taking care of the nation and dealing with the other Archons – and by extension the false Creator.

Really though, she would almost think them dead if not for the subtle rise and fall of their chest.

Though..this also left her with a lot of time to herself. A lot of time to think.

She really didn't like it.

There wasn't a lot to occupy her mind and what little there was only distracted her for a scant few moments before her eyes drifted back to the Divine like she was locked in their orbit, unable to escape.

She closed the same book for the twelfth time – she kept count – and returned it to it's meticulously designed place within her bookcase. A low, barely audible huff of frustration escaped her lips before she could bite it down, her stare boring a hole into the body of the Divine One with a sharp intensity she rarely showed.

She was tired, bored and constantly on edge, fearing that at any moment someone would find out about their presence here.

That, at the drop of a hat, she would be powerless to stop the greatest tragedy of her time play out before her eyes.

Neuvillette would have scolded her for being so petulant, especially around the Divine One, if he were here.

But he wasn't.

He was out running her nation, instead.

And what was she doing? Nothing!

She grit her teeth, nails digging harshly into the palm of her hands as she took a deep breath – now was not the time to think about that. She had..much more pressing matters. Sulking and letting her thoughts spiral helped no one, least of all herself.

Yet her attention was caught by a harsh inhale, the rustle of fabric – were they finally waking up? She was exhausted, but it all vanished at the sudden drop of life within the otherwise deathly still body of the Divine.

Her eyes followed the subtle twitch of their fingers, watching as their brow furrowed and their features twisted in something almost like..pain.

..She wasn't ready.

What was she supposed to say?

Should she even say anything? Would that be considered impolite? Does she wait for them to speak first? Should she kneel? Bow?

She doesn't get much time to find her own answer before their lashes flutter, chest heaving with every strangled breath. Every single thought vanishes from her mind the moment she meets their eyes.

For a long, silent moment she thinks that her heart must have stopped.

Their eyes glow like the cresting of the sun over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold – yet it also reminded her of the dipping of the moon below the waves, casting the briefest, most gentle of lights upon the world engulfed in darkness. In the depths of their eyes was the birth and death of stars in the infinite cosmos – glittering stars in a sea of empty, blank space that left her feeling lightheaded and breathless.

Beneath the splendor is a spark of recognition in their eyes so vibrant it was like a shooting star piercing through the dark night sky, leaving nothing but the wonder in the eyes of the observer as the only proof it ever existed – brilliant in it's beauty, however brief.

It is the most beautiful thing she has ever seen.

"Focalors?"

The lilt of their voice nearly made her knees buckle beneath her – euphoria so consuming it left her feeling she was starving swallowed her whole, her mind blanking in a moment of utter bliss. It was..an indescribable feeling that she doubted she could ever hope to put into words – not in a way that could properly express it, try as she might.

She swallowed the words that threatened to spill from her lips – she couldn't make a fool of herself. Not in front of them of all people. She'd never forgive herself.

"Divine One," She rasps, clearing her throat and covering her mouth with a hand to mask both her nervousness and the small smile that creeps across her face. She quickly regains her composure, hand resting on her hip as she puffs out her chest with every bit of pride she can manage. "I am sure you must be confused, but worry not– your most loyal acolyte has seen the truth!"

The silence is deafening.

She opens one eye, peaking at the bewildered and almost distraught expression of the Divine.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

That..she was not prepared for. Surely they knew who they were! Surely they knew. They had to– she's been praying to them for as long as she's breathed, she's dedicated every hour of her life to living up to their ideals, they can't just–!

"Lady Furina?"

Neuvillette, thankfully, spares her the embarrassment of having a meltdown in front of the Divine, the gentle rap of his knuckles against the door making her and the Divine pause, the soft lull of his voice soothing her nerves and yet setting her on edge at the same time.

"Neuvillette." She clears her throat again, her steps hurried as she marches to the door and pries it open none too gently, a forced smile pulling at her lips. She wastes no time tugging the man into the room, shutting the door behind him with a short huff. The silence is, somehow, even worse then before as the three of them stare at each other in absolute exasperation.

Neuvillette, for his part, manages to get his act together with a sharp clearing of his throat, bowing so low even she looks unnerved. She steals a brief glance at the Divine, and she's taken aback by the uncomfortability twisting their features into a grimace.

Their expression is schooled back into one of empty apathy when he stands back to his full height, but she saw it – she knows she did! Did they not like their worship? Were they not respectful enough? For a moment, she feared the Divine would smite Neuvillette down on the spot..but they just stared at him like he was a ghost.

"Why aren't you killing me?"

The defeated, resigned tone combined with the way their voice cracks makes her heart ache in her chest – it feels as though her entire world is crumbling down at her feet, and she cannot explain why she feels such emotions so strongly, but it is suffocating. It is almost as if Teyvat itself is weeping, bearing down upon her shoulders like a heavy weight.

She feels the urge to weep herself, but she powers through, gritting her teeth long enough for Neuvillette to take his place at the side of her – though it feels more like their – bed, kneeling like he was going to pray.

"Divine One," He offers a hand with a quiet rumble of his voice, the words slipping off his tongue like honey. It's like trying to soothe a stray cat..though she'd never voice such comparisons of the most Divine out loud. "I..we mean you no harm. I swear on my authority as the Iudex of Fontaine and Chief Justice that you are safe with us."

The skepticism she expected, but the reverence in which Neuvillette must convince them – or perhaps they are simply so tired that they simply did not care any longer if it was all some ploy to drive a knife between their ribs. She didn't expect them to actually place their hand in Neuvillette's.

He didn't either, judging by the way he visibly brightened – not that they'd notice, but she did.

..Not that she could really blame him, her heels clicking against the floorboards as she shifted her weight to the other foot with a nervous energy that was practically bursting at the seams, more then a little jealous of the attention he was receiving. She was the one who found them, she was the one who stayed with them the entire time..but he gets all the attention?

How unfair.

"O-of course! We would never lay a hand on our creator," She adds, her voice a little higher pitched then she would have liked as she placed her hands on her hips, puffing out her chest and brushing off the sting of jealousy. "Least of all I– your most loyal, most devout acolyte!"

She felt baffled when she heard the sound of their laughter, her shoulders hunching and her cheeks flushing on mere instinct – she was expecting mockery, but the look in their eyes, still dulled by a pain she cannot even begin to imagine, made her hesitate.

..It was, perhaps, the most genuine thing she'd heard from them ever since before the hunt began.

She wasn't sure why her heart hurt at such an idea, but it was enthralling to see the beginnings of a half hearted smile on their lips.

For a moment, her mask of theatrics was forgotten as she stared at them in a mixture of awe and adoration– and though she didn't look at Neuvillette, she could imagine he must've shared such an expression.

Had she any doubts that they were her Creator, that they alone were the most Divine..they would wiped clean now. There was no mistaking the way the world itself seemed to grow clearer as they glanced up at her like she was worth something.

For a moment, she realized how cold the false Creators gaze had been now that she has felt warmth so gentle it almost made her knees buckle beneath her. It felt like a pale imitation, now.

Nothing could compare to the warmth that spread through her body at the mere semblance of a smile upon their lips. She didn't even mind if it was her they were laughing at anymore, she just wanted to hear them laugh again.

She'd make a fool of herself, if she had to.

She'd never felt so..ravenous for such a thing, but just the briefest glimpse was addictive.

She simply couldn't help herself from striding across the room and clasping their free hand in her own, her smile wide enough to unnerve as she leaned her weight onto the bed. For a moment, she considered pulling away at the way they startled, but her mind was made up by then – there was no going back.

"Again."

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #neuvillette #focalors #furina #dont ask what happened here idk #this was. also supposed 2 be neuvi focused and then i.#dont talk 2 me abt focalors i wont ever shut up #got a 300k word essay on hand abt how i feel abt her character/how i interpret her personality and her story #focalors jsut like me fr fr (cries at the slightest inconvenience or the slightest mean comment)#shes so pathetic girlfail im gonna chew on her #what happens when reader gets stuck with two emotionally repressed french bastards?? hell #neuvi is the “emotionless” flavor of emotionally repressed in that hes HORRIBLE at showing emotions at all #ask him to smile and its incredibly unnerving and theres too many teeth but hes trying his best please call him pretty or he will cry :(#furina is the flavor of emotionally repressed where she makes it up by having Too Many emotions #using theatrics and masks to show everyone what they want to see but inside this girl is a MESS #constant anxiety and panic 24/7 #will do random shit and look at you and if u dont compliment her she will think u hate her and cry #compliment her and she'll do even stupider shit to try and impress you more #i love my scrunkly little babies they r so stupid and mentally ill someone get these bitches some THERAPY #i want 2 put them under a microscope #watch this be ooc fr furina when more of her lore drops if shes not girlfail im leaving #anyway see u in a week im going on a trip ill get back 2 u in 6-7 business days

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exhuastedpigeon · 1 month

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Hey you - yes YOU.

I'm gently holding your face in my hands and reminding you that you are loved and valued and you don't have to do anything to earn that love.

You're special and important and the world is better because you're here. I'm proud of you.

Go drink some water, I think we've both been crying a lot and we need to rehydrate.

#this is mostly directed at the people who commented on my fic sharing your own experiences with religious trauam #because baby i am right there with you #and we are going to heal together #but it's also directed at anyone who needs to hear it #catholic guilt will not ruin our lives #we won't let it #let's hold hands and walk each other to therapy

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reireichu · 11 days

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parasite.

Armand watching Daniel move on. Armand watching Daniel live a life, without him.

children fucking ruin everything.

chapter i: paris is for lovers and heartbreak.

Aka I wrote this post and then apparently I might be writing a fic about.

#interview with the vampire amc #iwtv #iwtv fic #armand #daniel molloy #there’s a lack of old man daniel in this fic right now #oh my god am I going to write the fuck out of this until old maniel appears #armand spends most of this chapter beefing with a baby #armand did not eat the baby #random Louis in the background having feelings #why is Louis always having feelings #armand GET SOME FUCKING THERAPY AND MOVE ON #parasite the fic #writer woes

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nenehyuuchiha · 1 month

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Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Batman (Comics) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Cassandra Cain & Jason Todd, Stephanie Brown & Jason Todd, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Damian Wayne Characters: Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Barbara Gordon, Stephanie Brown, Cassandra Cain, Damian Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Dinah Lance Additional Tags: Time Travel, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Dimension Travel, Canonical Character Death, Angst, Jason Todd is Robin, Jason Todd-centric Summary:

One night, while on patrol, twelve year old Jason Todd falls through a portal... and lands in the future. If only people would actually tell him what's going on...

#Jason Todd #robin #red hood #Bruce Wayne #Stephanie Brown #Cassandra Cain #Tim Drake #dick Grayson #batfamily #fic rec #batfam #red robin #batman #baby jason todd #This guy needs to of therapy #tons*

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naranjapetrificada · 6 months

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idk why these have been speaking to me so much lately. part of the reason I've accidentally been stumbling over so much racist shit in the fandom is because I've been trying to scratch that itch wherever I can. it's been educational, to say the least. there's something that's really compelling for me for reasons it now occurs to me I should probably bring up in therapy lol.

something about the power dynamics (especially the captive one, where Stede can take back that power), the being thrown together by circumstance (what are the odds?), something about the sudden intimacy of either marrying a stranger or being held on a ship (where the odds aren't in your favor but you can end up surprised at how well things shake out), something about the intentional kindness characters in those situations can choose and what can grow out of those choices.

I also just feel like on some level those tropes fit Ed and Stede particularly well given their canon characterization. The class issues, the skin-deep differences that end up drawing them together instead of dividing them, the consuming curiosity that those situations can spark. we see all of that explored on the show proper, but these tropes feel like a new space to play with all that, have fun with worldbuilding, and do it all under the scrutiny of people with even more than the usual expectations of them both.

#ofmd fanfic #fic writing #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #things to bring up in therapy #maybe I won't even get around to writing it #maybe writing this post will trick my brain into not wanting to write it #anything is possible #ofmd meta #the marriage one would be in the canon world or a fantasy one #the captive one would probably just be in the canon world #poll #ofmd polls #baby's first longfic

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bloodfromthethorn · 6 months

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Setting Boundaries

"Gods,” she hissed finally. Her expression crumpled into despair a moment before she buried her face in her hands to hide the fresh tears that came with it. “I made you say please.”

Raevan suffers a few belated realisations. Astarion is quick to set her straight.

Also on AO3.

After everything that had happened that day, from their miserable trudge through Moonrise Towers, to their run-in with that vile drow, to Astarion’s own personal revelations and growth, it was little wonder that he reached the evening – such as it was ever evening in the Shadowlands – bone tired and more than ready to pack it all in for the night. Halsin’s surprisingly passable attempt at a vegetable stew certainly furthered that desire, leaving him blinking and weary beside the fire.

There was only one more thing he wanted before he surrendered himself to a well-deserved trance – blood. He wasn’t starving and he’d gone longer on less a great many times in his life, but now that he had a willing donor readily available, he’d started to become more accustomed to semi-regular feeds. He could always go hunting of course but…

It had been a really long day.

The only problem was his dinner appeared to have gone walkabouts. Sometime between the stew getting handed around and Astarion tuning back into the conversation, Raevan had managed to disappear entirely. She wasn’t in any of her usual haunts around the camp and a few not-so-subtle inquiries with his travelling companions revealed no obvious solution either. It would seem she really had just vanished.

Briefly, Astarion considered calling it a lost cause and just heading to his own tent. Raevan, like all of them, occasionally felt the need to take some moments to herself and it wasn’t like she hadn’t earned an evening of peace. It was entirely possible she had no interest in being disturbed. Still, it wasn’t wise to wander so far from camp alone with the Curse hanging around them as an ever present threat, besides whatever other horrors could be waiting beyond the ring of firelight.

And, perhaps he was honest enough with himself these days that he could admit he was worried for her. A desire for solitude or not, it was unlike her to take herself off without any warning to anyone.

His mind made up, he put the campfire at his back and strode out into the night. The darkness was little trouble for his eyes and the pixie’s little trick was still holding strong to keep the Curse at bay, but it was still no mean feat to pick up Raevan’s faint trail through the gloom. It was fortunate that she clearly hadn’t been trying to conceal her passage; the woman was stealthy enough she could cross the whole world without leaving a single mark if that was what she so desired.

As it stood, she hadn’t even tried to conceal her footsteps in the rotting mulch carpeting the forest floor. Even without a torch, it was enough to lead him right to her.

The sight he found was… not encouraging. She’d sat herself down on a patch of dark, loamy earth beside the river, apparently unbothered by the damp that must have been soaking into her clothes, and had curled her knees up to her chest to rest her chin on them. It looked terribly uncomfortable and was about as small as it was possible to make herself.

Concern rose up thick and fast in Astarion’s gut and he was moving forwards before he could stop himself, his foot landing overly hard on a half-rotten piece of treebark that let out a muted groan in protest. Raevan spun around at the sound like a snake braced to attack, the movement revealing the dagger she'd been gripping tightly in the shadow of her body.

He raised his hands in surrender. “Only me,” he said lightly, relaxing minutely when the dagger was immediately lowered. He'd been out of striking range – which said a lot for her awareness – but he'd seen her throw knives before. Thank the gods her recognition abilities were just as quick as her reflexes.

“Astarion,” she breathed out sharply, evidently working through her own sudden spike in adrenaline. “What are you doing sneaking around? I could have hurt you!”

The words were annoyed in that exaggerated way people used when they'd been startled badly, but that wasn't what caught his attention. No, it was the way Raevan’s eyes dropped from his almost as soon as she'd recognised he wasn't a threat, turning instead to focus intensely on the action of sheathing the dagger. She'd done that move a thousand times that week and Astarion had never once seen her need to look at what she was doing while she did it. No, this wasn’t simple distraction; this was hiding.

It was in vain, too. Even in the low light cast by the torch that she’d apparently thought to bring with her, Astarion’s eyes were sharp enough to see the redness she was hoping he wouldn’t notice.

She'd been crying.

Astarion heart slid down through the bottom of his ribcage and kept going. She'd seemed so understanding when they'd spoken earlier, so gentle. She hadn't looked or sounded upset by his self-reflectant revelations. On the contrary, she'd encouraged him to take whatever time he needed, no matter how long it might be. She hadn't in acted in any way then that could have indicated she'd end the evening crying alone on the riverbank.

Then again, maybe this was nothing to do with him or their earlier conversation. As everyone kept telling him, not everything revolved around him. Maybe she'd simply had a falling out with one of the others and no one had thought to tell him when he’d asked after her earlier.

'Maybes' weren't going to get him anywhere. Raevan had always approached her concerns with him directly; he owed it to them both to grant her the same courtesy. Still, two hundred years of safeguarding his own heart were not an easy thing to just shake off and the idea of simply asking her outright what was wrong inevitably led to him imagination dragging him through a series of the worst possible outcomes.

Instead, he took a deep breath, fixed on his best lighthearted smile, and sat himself down beside her as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “I rather thought I’d ask you the same question. It’s a strange night for a stroll.”

He waved a carefree hand at their grim surroundings. This wasn’t the worst place she could have picked, precisely; it was more a matter of there being no particularly nice places to choose from. This spot was neither a part of the ruined town or its troublingly expansive graveyard, which was a vote in its favour, but Astarion’s nose was keen enough to suggest there was more than simple leaves rotting nearby. It was the kind of smell that permeated every inch of the region and yet was vile enough to never quite manage to fade into the background. Astarion had realised quickly he hated it. It wasn’t exactly his idea of a pleasant accompaniment to an evening jaunt in the woods.

Raevan didn’t rise to the comment. Instead, she settled herself back down in her tightly restrained ball and gazed out over the rumbling water. After a long moment of expectant silence, she sighed. “I just needed a little while to think. Did you need me for something?”

“Not at all,” he said cheerfully, already determined to not mention how he’d technically started seeking her out so he could feed.

“Oh. That’s good.” Her voice was flat. It was clear her mind was already fading back into whatever elsewhere it had been occupying before Astarion had so rudely intruded on her solitude.

Suddenly uncertain of himself, if no less worried about where her head might be at, Astarion shifted. “I– I can leave, if you’d prefer? I just thought it was unwise for any of us to linger alone out here.” Raevan glanced at him and a sudden shock of nervousness prompted him to continue when really he should just shut his mouth. “I know, I know, you think that little imp’s spell can protect us, but putting your faith in that kind of magic is frankly a level of optimism to which I refuse to consign myself. You can never trust devils with wings, no matter how small they might be.”

He flashed her a grin and nearly collapsed in relief when it drew a faint smile and an eyeroll from his companion. “It was a pixie.”

“I fear you may be missing my point.”

She snorted softly, the tense line of her shoulders easing ever so slightly. “Perhaps. You’re right. It was foolish to come out here alone. I just…”

“It can be hard to grab a moment to yourself in a camp full of people constantly vying for your attention,” he commiserated when her voice trailed off. “Present company excluded, of course,” he tacked on with a haughty huff. “My companionship is a constant source of delight, I’m sure.”

That earned him a genuine laugh albeit a quiet one. “It is,” she agreed easily. “Wherever would I be without you?”

She said it in jest, but the compliment beneath felt genuine enough. If he’d been physically capable, he’d probably have blushed. “Well, you’d be short one warlock at the very least. Wyll really needs to learn to watch his flank.”

“The man has one eye.”

Astarion pursed his lips. He hadn’t actually considered that right up until this moment. “Still,” he said pointedly.

Raevan laughed again. “I’m sure he’d be willing to train with you if you asked him. Hells, he’d probably love the opportunity, he’s just too intimidated to ask you.”

“Intimidated? I am eminently approachable.”

“Uh huh.”

“I am.”

She shook her head, still smiling, though the expression faded rapidly when her gaze fell back to the water. The amusement that had lit up her entire face just a moment ago seemed to snuff out like a candle, leaving behind the tired and drawn expression of someone who had had to shoulder too many burdens without enough rest. The worry that had softened to a gentle prickle in the back of Astarion’s mind rushed to the fore once again.

“Raevan,” he started slowly, faltering when her eyes jumped back to him before he steadied. “Are you alright? I know today has been… a lot.”

She was already shaking her head by the time he’d finished speaking. “It’s nothing,” she brushed off carelessly. “You’ve had a more stressful day than me, I imagine.”

“And yet, I’m not the one who vanished from camp without a word to come and sit alone in the shadows. Without wishing to jump to conclusions, I’m sure you can see why I might be… worried.” He didn’t want to specifically mention their earlier conversation for fear of making the matter about himself when it may have nothing to do with him, but he saw Raevan make the connection in the way her eyes suddenly widened in concern.

“Oh!” She said, straightening suddenly from her slump. “No! No, it’s nothing like that. This isn’t– This is my own issue. It’s not anything to do with– anything that happened earlier. I’m not–” She bit her lip, her sudden panicked energy lighting her up like a bolt of magic.

“Raevan,” he cut in, hands up as if calming a startled horse. “It’s okay. I wasn’t trying to accuse.”

“No, but you think–”

“I’m not thinking anything,” he said firmly, ignoring the sudden swell of relief he felt at hearing she wasn’t tying herself in knots about their sudden step back from intimacy. He wasn’t sure what he would have done if she had been; he’d started becoming self-aware enough to worry that he might have allowed himself to be guilted into something he didn’t actually want to do. Not that Raevan would do so intentionally, of course, but he recognised his own inability to disappoint her. “I’m just worried that something’s upset you enough to drive you away from camp on one of the few nights we didn’t have to endure Gale’s cooking.”

It was an unfair slight against a man who genuinely was quite a talented cook, but Raevan didn’t rise to it like he’d hoped. Instead, as her panic faded, abject misery flowed back into her expression before she managed to turn away to hide it. Something twisted painfully in Astarion’s gut.

“I don’t want to pry,” he said quietly, “But I would help if I can. Even if it’s just to listen. I’m told that speaking about your problems can ease them.”

She’d told him as much multiple times in their relatively short time together. He was increasingly finding that she might just be right.

From the sideways look she shot him, she knew exactly what he was doing. She didn’t seem entirely happy to have her own logic turned against her, but she didn’t try to refute it. On the contrary, she lapsed into a stubborn sort of silence, folded up into her tight little ball as she gazed out across the water. Well, two could play at that game. Despite what anyone else might think, Astarion was perfectly capable of keeping his mouth shut when the situation called for it. If Raevan thought she could win this little contest through a superior reserve of patience, she was to be sorely mistaken.

In the end, the pair sat there in total silence for what had to be at least ten minutes. Through it all, neither of them even moved; Astarion the consummate hunter frozen in wait for his prey and Raevan, stubborn and firm-jawed in her refusal to speak.

It wasn’t until Astarion’s anxiety about whether he should really be there or not was about to bubble over that Raevan sighed heavily and rubbed at her face. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly, the words half lost to her palms before she looked back up at him and added, “I owe you an apology.”

He considered that and came up empty. It did nothing to soothe his anxious worryings. “For what?”

“That first night we spent together,” she said, not meeting his eyes. The low-level murmur of discomfort that Astarion had been fighting against roared into life so sharply he stopped breathing for a moment. He’d known that admitting the truth of his intentions would not be well received, but he’d hoped nothing he’d said would cause any lasting damage. Certainly not enough to drive her from the camp to sit in miserable solitude all evening. Maybe the panic showed in his face, because she continued on quickly, “I don’t mean I’m sorry it happened. Or– I mean–”

She stopped, cursing, then buried her face in her hands again. When she looked up, her eyes were redder than before but her jaw was set.

“You shouldn’t have had to do that if you didn’t want to. I know you had your reasons. But I’m sorry that I– If I did anything to you that made you uncomfortable. I didn’t realise– Well. That’s not important. I’m just– Sorry.”

It took a minute for Astarion to parse what precisely she was saying. It was obvious that she wasn’t entirely clear on the point she was trying to convey herself, or perhaps more that she was trying to ensure she didn’t offend him by doing it. He likely wasn’t helping in that regard, suddenly aware that he’d gone tense as a bowstring as soon as she’d mentioned that night and hadn’t relaxed since. He wasn’t sure what expression he’d been wearing, but he doubted it was encouraging.

“You’re sorry because… You think you upset me?” He tried, uncertain.

She flinched, and the dam broke. All the things she’d clearly been trying to hold in came pouring forth in a rapid rush. “Yes. No. I don’t know. All I know is that you said you only propositioned me to get me on your side and not because you actually wanted– And that’s fine, I understand that, I’m not upset about it, but I just keep remembering that night and everything we did, and I think about touching you and how you must have felt–” She paused just long enough to suck in a hard breath, eyes wild, before diving right back in. “I know how pushy and demanding I can be and I think about what I might have made you do against your will, and how awful that must have been and– Gods,” she hissed finally. Her expression crumpled into despair a moment before she buried her face in her hands to hide the fresh tears that came with it. “I made you say please .”

Astarion didn’t need her to elaborate to know exactly what moment she was referring to, having had it branded in his own mind ever since it happened. He’d spent almost every evening since that fateful night turning the moment over, recalling how sharply her demand had rankled on a surface level and yet marvelling over how much his capitulation hadn’t. She’d asked him to beg for something he hadn’t even really wanted, had only been doing to save his own skin, and yet he’d granted her that small power willingly, knowing as he did so that if nothing else, he could trust her with that. That she wouldn’t abuse the weapon he was freely handing her.

It was, in hindsight, probably the moment he should have realised he was becoming far too emotionally invested in his own con but he hadn’t and it was much too late now. At least he could say with honesty that he didn’t regret it for a second.

“You didn’t make me do anything,” he said lightly instead of trying to explain it. His own anxiety faded out in one quiet rush as he realised her sticking point and how easily he could fix it. “Raevan, I made my own decisions every step of the way. For better or ill.” He paused a moment, allowing a faint thrill of excitement to escape into his expression even when she couldn’t see it. “And it was for the better, I assure you.”

She stayed hidden for another long few seconds, only a faint sniffling emerging from her self-made cocoon, before she finally pulled her head up to look at him again. Her eyes were puffy and red. She certainly didn’t look comforted by his reassurances.

“You couldn’t have known my history,” he continued in a low, soothing tone. “And it’s not like it would have been reasonable to expect one of your companions to be trying to bed you just so that you’d protect them should any villains come knocking. I’m the one who betrayed someone in this scenario.” It felt like a risk to remind her of it, even after she’d been so shockingly accepting of that fact earlier, but he’d take it if it meant her no longer thinking she’d done something wrong. Hells below, he was absolutely stupid for her.

“You didn’t,” she said immediately, looking almost offended by the suggestion and unknowingly confirming to Astarion that once this matter was settled, they desperately needed to start thinking about how to build up her sense of self-preservation. “You were scared and you had every reason to be. Of course you’d do anything you could to get allies on your side.”

Astarion hummed. “Perhaps. Though it’s recently been brought to my attention that sex isn’t always a necessary step in that process.”

Raeven shot him an annoyed look out the corner of her eye, unimpressed by his relatively good humour when her mood was already so sour. He softened his expression in apology.

“Truly Raevan, you’ve done nothing wrong. Far from it. And while I might regret that my motives were… what they were, I wouldn’t change what happened. Not for anything.” He reached out as he spoke, laying a featherlight touch against her palm that was as much a question as it was an invitation. After a moment, her fingers curled warm around his. The heat of her never failed to thrill him, blazing bright right down the bone. Right then, several days out from his last half-decent feed, she burned hot as a brand.

“No?”

“Never.”

She visibly teetered on the brink of believing him, fighting hard against her tears. “It’s just– I can’t help but feel… dirty. The thought of me touching you and knowing now that it was unwelcome, I just–”

“It was welcome,” he said firmly. He would not allow her to believe anything else for another moment more. “It was heartily welcomed. My intentions might have made any pleasure secondary, but I assure you it was pleasurable. Whatever my reasons, bedding you was hardly a chore for me.” He took the risk of pulling on an expression indicating how absurd the suggestion was. “Raevan, you’re beautiful. If you had been nothing else that would have been enough and still, you are so much more. You’re kind and funny and smart, and a thousand other things that drew me to you. Trust me, nothing that happened that night was any kind of hardship for me.”

In truth, the only real hardship had been the parts where he’d tried to remind himself why he was doing it in the first place. Even then, he’d already begun to lose himself in his attraction to her, that insatiable pull beneath his ribs that constantly demanded her and only her. He wouldn’t put a name to the sensation for weeks, and he wasn’t sure he could voice it even now, but it had been there right from that first night. Maybe longer.

Her fingers squeezed his. “You mean that?”

“I would not lie to you. Not about this.”

She considered that a moment, weighing up his appearance with steady, red-rimmed eyes. Astarion let her look, trying to show his sincerity as clearly as he could. A terrifying few heartbeats later, she nodded faintly. “Okay,” she murmured. “Okay.”

Astarion let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

His relief was shortlived; a few seconds later, Raevan’s eyes tightened back into an intense focus. “But I need you to promise me something.”

He caught himself an instant before he said an idiotic anything’. Whatever their relationship might be, he was in no position to be making offers like that. “What is it?”

“If my touch ever is unwelcome, at any time, you will tell me. Anything. Whatever it is. However much you think I want or need it. If you’re uncomfortable, you will tell me.”

He blinked at the simplicity of the request. “I can do that.”

“Promise me,” she pressed. “You’ll tell me even if you think it’ll upset me. Even if I get mad. Whatever the situation is, you’ll ask me to back off if you need me to.”

Long-buried instinct prompted him to say an immediate yes, but if nothing else the last two centuries had blessed him with an abundance of caution and it was clear Raevan meant the request extremely seriously. He could see her point – he’d already proven himself to be someone willing to sacrifice physical comfort in the name of achieving some greater purpose. Wasn’t that the point of this whole mess?

To anyone else, he probably would have lied. To her, after everything she’d done for him and the trust she had more than earned? He squeezed her hand tightly. “I can promise to try?”

There was something sad in her answering smile, but she didn’t let go of his hand. “I suppose I can work with that.”

The tension of the moment broke like a cool summer morning and both of them shared a faint breath of relief as it washed over them. Astarion hadn’t even realised how tense he’d become since he sat down. Now he was paying attention, he noted that not only were his muscles knotted and complaining, his clothes were uncomfortably sticky with grime from where he was sitting.

Beside him, Raevan had started idly toying with his fingers, a faint line reappearing between her brows. Astarion considered worrying that they were about to get into another emotionally fraught conversation straight away, but she wasn’t holding the same tension as she had before and she looked more pensive than anything.

“Maybe…” She started slowly. “Maybe we should start with clear boundaries. That way you shouldn’t have to constantly be warning me off.”

Astarion hadn’t had the luxury of personal boundaries in over two centuries. The idea was foreign enough to him that he might have laughed had Raevan not so obviously been serious about it. “I can’t imagine there’s much you could do that I would object to,” he pointed out. It was mostly true, too. He’d already told her he didn’t want to have sex for a while and she’d agreed immediately; beyond that, he hadn’t considered laying out any restrictions.

“Still,” she said, determined. “We should be on the same page. I– I don’t want to have to constantly be worrying I’m overstepping again.”

They’d just gone over all the ways in which she hadn’t been overstepping the first time, but Astarion wasn’t about to drag them back into that. Instead, he nodded. “Alright. I can understand that.”

He offered nothing further, unsure of himself and the situation, so Raevan chose to take the lead. “Well, you seem to be alright with this,” she said, indicating where she still had hold of his hand. He nodded. He’d rapidly discovered he actually quite liked the non-sexual intimacy of holding her hand and he was loathe to do anything that would discourage her from doing so whenever she desired. “Alright, let’s start there. How about this: I touch you, here and now, and you just tell me yes or no. You can nod and shake your head if it’s easier. Just so I know what’s off limits.”

It was… a reasonable idea, if a little childish. Then again, the thought of having to verbally explain to her all the ways in which he did and didn’t want to be touched was horrifying enough he’d rather throw himself into the river and have done with it, so perhaps this was for the best. At least this way, she wasn’t asking him to justify his decisions, merely taking note of what they were.

On closer inspection, it was the kind of considerate offer he should have started to expect from her and yet never failed to be surprised by.

“Okay,” he said simply.

There, Raevan hesitated but it was only momentary. After a second to centre herself and double check that Astarion wasn’t about to run for the hills, she slowly reached out with her free hand and laid it carefully over his bicep. He nodded once.

Her hand trailed up further, resting on his shoulder until she received another nod, then sliding featherlight down over his chest. She got as far as the corded muscle of his stomach before he found himself shaking his head. It was a surprise to him – he hadn’t even realised how vulnerable the touch made him feel until he was giving the clear option of saying no to it – but Raevan didn’t even pause. Her hand withdrew immediately and without comment, only returning several seconds later to his knee.

She continued on in the same manner, getting a headshake on both thigh and upper back – though admittedly the latter was more hesitant. He genuinely hadn’t had any problem with her hands on his back when they’d slept together, so he wasn’t sure why or when it had become such a problem. Learning about the meaning of his scars had certainly made him more aware of them, but she already knew of their existence. It wasn’t like there was anything more to hide.

Still, Raevan didn’t question it, merely confirmed that his lower back was apparently still totally fine alongside his hip and, strangely, his ass, before she redirected her attention to his head. It was at that point she grew more hesitant, perhaps in anticipation of a stronger response. In truth, Astarion wasn’t completely sure how he’d feel about it either so he could understand her uncertainty, but it turned out to be completely fine. Her fingertips brushing over his eyelids, down his nose, and across his lips did nothing more than light up a line of warmth that tingled pleasantly in the cool air. His ears tickled a little but the sensation was not unpleasant and his sharp inhale of surprised delight when she ran her hand through his hair startled them both into a sudden burst of laughter.

It was only when they both quieted again that she asked her final silent question. Slowly, oh so slowly, she reached out and cupped her palm around the curve of his throat, right over the twin scars Cazador had so kindly left him all those years ago. Astarion tensed on instinct, but Raevan didn’t pull away, awaiting his answer.

For a long, frozen second, Astarion battled with a thousand different thoughts. Some base instinct was roaring at the vulnerability of the touch, while a monstrous side of him inherited from Cazador spat at the entitlement of this woman thinking she could touch the scars that had so defined him. Astarion didn’t want to listen to either. He was more than a beast and more than what Cazador had made him, and it was his damned throat. He got to decide what he did with it.

His nod, when it came, was firm and decisive.

The reward was a wide, bright smile from Raevan that seemed to light up the darkness around her. “Thank you,” she said warmly. “For trusting me.”

“You’ve more than earned it,” he said in a surprisingly husky voice. He cleared his throat awkwardly, embarrassed. She grinned at him, but let it go.

Then she sobered. “Remember, you can change your mind at any time. Alright? If you decide tomorrow that something's off-limits when it wasn't tonight, that's okay. Just tell me.”

Astarion smiled, indulgent and thrilled at his own security in the moment. After the strain of the last few minutes, it was a relief to pull his confidence back on. “I promised, didn't I?”

“Just making sure.”

“Darling, I assure you, I'm more than happy for you to put your hands on me. Please don't think that me asking to take things a little slower than I usually might is any indication otherwise.”

“I don't,” she said breezily. “I just want us both to be comfortable and this way, you don't have to constantly tell me in front of the others that I'm crossing your boundaries.” She waved a careless hand and dropped his gaze for a moment, and Astarion realised she was avoiding another question.

“There's something else, isn't there?”

She looked back up at him quickly, eyes wide as a deer’s when facing down a hunter. It was as clear a confirmation as if she'd spoken.

“You can ask, my dear. Don't hold yourself back on my account.”

She blushed, suddenly unable to meet his gaze. “No, it's– Ah. Gods. You remember your promise?”

“Raevan, ask.”

She huffed. The blood rushing to her cheeks was adorable. She looked more unsure of herself than she had done all evening, though perhaps that was only because she'd been so busy hiding her face during the first half of their conversation. It actually took her several moments to build up the courage to ask her question. “Could– Uh. Could I kiss you?”

For a brief instant, Astarion considered leaning in to claim a kiss himself and letting that be his answer, but he stopped himself. She had treated him with a thoroughly undeserved gentleness all night and he wasn’t going to repay that by taking something from her without permission. Besides, he wanted to be able to see her face light up when he dropped his voice low and seductive and said, “How could I say no?”

The reward for his self-restraint was truly a sight to behold. Raevan’s breath caught, her pupils dilated. The blush still staining her cheeks continued to pulse a vivid red, a bright flag of her own vitality even as the rest of her momentarily froze in surprise. When she regained herself and slowly leaned in – giving him every opportunity to pull away even now as if there was anything he wanted to do less in that moment – her beauty was captivating.

The kiss itself was surprisingly chaste for the weight it had been given, but to Astarion it was perfect. He knew Raevan was doing it in part to confirm to him that she wouldn’t press for more, reassuring him of her commitment to letting him set the pace and even if he would have been fine with something more it was a comfort to know she offered it. There would be time for more later. Well, probably. There was still Thorm to deal with and who knew if they could both survive that. Fortunately, for once, he was feeling uncharacteristically optimistic.

“I do rather like that, you know,” he murmured to her.

She smiled, sharp and delighted and victorious. Gods, she was breathtaking. “Good. I’m something of a fan myself.” She brushed her thumb over the swell of his bottom lip, watching in fascination as his lips parted and his fangs peeked out. He held still as she ever so gently pricked her skin on one sharp canine.

“Careful, my dear,” he warned non-seriously. “Teasing a vampire is a dangerous game.”

Her gaze was self-assured and unrepentant. All the coy uncertainty and heartbroken regret of earlier had bled out of her at the reassurance that, yes, he wanted her too and no, she hadn’t done anything wrong. Without it she looked… strong. “I suppose it’s a good thing I know I can trust this one then,” she said smugly.

The words took a second to sink in, but when they did, Astarion felt something warm pool in his belly. She actually meant it – she genuinely did trust him. Not just to fight at her side or to not betray her to the enemy, but trusted him with her body, her blood, knowing that he wouldn’t take advantage. He couldn’t remember ever being given that trust by anybody. Certainly not anyone who knew about all the reasons why they shouldn’t.

It was too much to acknowledge after the weight of everything they’d already gone through that day. Instead, he tucked that gentle warmth in close to his heart and smirked at her. “I don’t know about that. You are awfully tempting. It has a disastrous effect on my self-control.”

His eyes traced the slender line of her throat, more teasing than anything, but instead of making her blush again, he was left with a pensive expression peering out at him beneath rapidly descending eyebrows. “Wait,” she said suddenly, the sultry low timbre of her voice abruptly rising back to her usual pitch. “What have you been eating?”

Astarion blinked at her, utterly thrown by the change of pace. “The same stew as you, most recently…?”

“No,” she brushed off with a flick of her wrist. “For blood, I mean.” She cast her gaze around them at their withered surroundings, directing him to acknowledge the complete lack of sound caused by animals that should have been rustling in the undergrowth. The best they’d been able to hope for since entering the Shadowlands had been the occasional caw of an unseen crow. “Are you– Have you been able to find enough food?”

She was starting to look panicked all over again, so he was quick to pull on a quelling smile. “I’m fine Raevan, I assure you. The… ah, local cuisine is not entirely agreeable to my palate, but I’m surviving well enough.”

What he didn’t say was that he’d survived far worse. He also firmly didn’t mention that the most he’d been able to catch since their arrival was a few rats and a single, somewhat skinny rabbit. Without his periodic top-ups from Raevan, he’d probably be in a pretty poor state by now. Like the humans before them, most of the local wildlife had seemingly fled the area when the curse rolled in, or had been consumed by it, leaving only a few enterprising rodents to capitalise on the sudden lack of competition. Even without it, nothing natural could grow strong here. The best any of them could manage was to eke out a half-life in the shadows – if he’d been given to that sort of poetry, Astarion might have found he related to the poor beasts.

As it was, he detested the entire experience and had been counting down the days until they were able to get out of that gods forsaken realm.

Something like it must have shown on his face, because Raevan’s expression had folded down into a peeved frown even as she reached for her own collar. “Gods, Astarion, you should have said something.” She managed to get her top button undone and pulled her neckline loose before Astarion caught up to what she was doing. “Drink.”

With her head tilted to allow him better access and her jaw jutted out in muted frustration with him, she looked almost comically petulant about the entire exchange. He huffed. “Raevan, it’s fine–”

“Drink. Are you honestly going to try and tell me you’re not thirsty?”

Faintly, he remembered the bloodlust that had driven him to follow her out here in the first place. Even if he’d been in a mood to lie about it, she could no doubt already read it in the pallor of his skin and the coolness of his touch. He never looked more dead than when it had been a few days since he’d last had some half-decent sustenance. After all the running around and fighting they’d had to do, on top of the general exhausting drag of merely existing in a region so wholly hostile to life, he really shouldn’t be denying the chance for a good meal when given the opportunity.

And, well, she was offering. It would surely be rude to refuse.

“Well,” he said brightly, “If you insist, who am I to reject such a delightful offer?”

He leaned into her slowly, mirroring the speed with which she’d claimed her kiss; giving her the time to pull away if she wanted and yet somehow knowing, with absolute certainty, that she wouldn’t. Their relationship might have had its rocky moments – mostly due to his own drama, he could admit – but this was where they’d always met in the middle. This he could trust.

Just before he closed the final distance, he paused. There weren’t words in any language he knew that could encapsulate the feelings bottled within his chest, but it felt cowardly to say nothing at all when she had pushed herself to say so much. It was only fair he at least attempted to do the same. “Thank you,” he murmured against her skin. He didn’t just mean for the blood.

Her hand came up to press lightly on the back of his head, threading her fingers through his curls and holding him to her as if he wasn’t a monster she should be pushing away with all her might. “You’re welcome,” she said, heavy with understanding.

It was enough. With a final inhale of that intoxicating aroma so unique to her, Astarion leaned in and bit down.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #female tav #fanfiction #my fanfic #my man has ISSUES #i would die for him but baby boy you desperately need some goddamn therapy #tav's doing her best over here but GOOD LORD #Also yes this fic was written because i made him say please LIKE A CHUMP #and then felt fucking awful in act 2 #this is my therapy #see astarion #this is how it gets done

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keistance · 1 year

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society if dc fans and creatives remembered tim drake was an over the top asshole

#tim drake #dc #dc comics #red robin #dc memes #memes #my property #tired of reading a fic or talking with a fellow fan and them saying tim is a sweet boy who has no done wrong #he is a fucking asshole and i love that for him #ao3 how difficult can it be to find a true tim fic in you im begging you no more of this imposter all babies adore #yall remember when he faked a broken leg and fake physical therapy for a year? yeah please more of that

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phantomskeep · 1 year

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Does anyone else ever just slap funny little comments on their fics? Because it's something I enjoy and it honestly motivates me to write more, just so that I can make fun of myself ^-^;

it brings me great joy to be a chaos gremlin

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missmagooglie · 9 months

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For the WIP Wednesday game, @infinitybits87 and @h-i-raeth requested a Therapy Baby snippet, so have some "Buck defending his poor life choices" paired with some "Firefam defending Buck"

“Buck as a father, I never thought I’d see the day,” Chim grins at him. “Though in hindsight, maybe we should have seen this coming. Which of your sexcapades resulted in this little bundle of joy? Did his mom have to reach out to you on Tinder?” “Oh, please tell me this child was not conceived in the rig,” Hen begs. “Was it snake girl?” Chimney asks. “I need to know if we have to prepare for a hereditary love of reptiles.” Buck laughs awkwardly. “No, she wasn’t anyone I met while I was on duty,” he says, trying to ignore the way Bobby looks skyward and mouths the words thank you. “It was, um. Do you guys remember when I was having a hard time after that roller coaster rescue that went bad?” “Of course,” Bobby says. “It was your first time losing someone on the job. You took it hard.” “Right, yeah, and you suggested I see someone for counseling,” Buck says. “So I went to her office, and it turns out she’d seen me on the news, and, um, I guess you could say we tried some non-traditional treatments?” He braces himself for laughter and teasing, but instead the room goes quiet. “Buck, are you telling us that Danny’s mother was your therapist?” Bobby asks, his face pinched. “It was only one session,” Buck says, his body curling defensively around the baby in his arms. He suddenly recalls the visceral hatred and disgust that came off Dr. Wells’ husband the day he had picked Danny up. The pure disgust he’d shown when he learned that Buck had been a patient of his wife’s, “and we didn’t exactly do a lot of therapy. It’s not like I was a regular patient of hers.” “That doesn’t make it ok,” Hen says softly. She says it in the voice she uses to reassure victims in the field, and Buck has no idea why she’s using it now. “Look, I get that it wasn’t the classiest thing I’ve ever done," Buck says in an effort to downplay the whole thing, "but it’s not like we did something illegal." “At the very least it’s sexual misconduct,” Athena chimes in, and her voice is serious, too. “Depending on the circumstances, it could even be considered rape.” “Woah,” Buck says, stepping back in alarm. “Hey, no, it was very much consensual. I would never-” Buck looks around and catches Bobby’s eyes. “Bobby, I swear,” he pleads, “I know I did a lot of stupid shit, but I never did anything that the other person wasn’t completely on board with. I would never try to take advantage of-” “No one is accusing you, Buck,” Bobby assures him. “You would have been the victim. If your therapist slept with you, then as the patient you’re the one who was assaulted.” Buck snorts at the wild absurdity of that statement. “I think I’d know if I had been assaulted.” “If she violated her duty of care -” Bobby starts to say. Buck shakes his head. “It wasn’t like that,” he insists. “I flirted, she flirted, and one thing led to another. That’s all.” “Ok, let’s all maybe take a breath,” Eddie says, stepping in and stationing himself between Buck and the frowning faces all around him. “This is a baby shower, not an inquisition. Let’s just eat some cake and tease Buck about his very pretty baby sling.” He plucks at the floral fabric wrapped around Buck’s chest – which Buck got for free on facebook marketplace, thank you very much – and gives him a reassuring smile. The rest of the crew chuckles lightly and are willing enough to move on to other topics of conversation - though not without some pointedly concerned glances at Buck - as the stork cake is cut and served. “I’m stealing your kid,” Eddie says, plucking Danny out of his arms as soon as everyone’s attention has been successfully redirected. “Go talk to Bobby.”

#Fic: Therapy Baby #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz #buddie #911onfox #911 abc #911 fanfic #therapy baby #how do i fanfiction?

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dandelion-wings · 1 year

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So for the past couple of months I've been working on a fic for a zine, the Rain Anthology on Twitter, all about Ragbro angst and hurt/comfort! And now I get to share a teaser of my story, wherein Kaeya starts to succumb to the curse of Khaenri'ah, and Diluc has to bring him back from the edge:

It's been a blast to work on, and it's going to come with internal art, which is very exciting. As are the other fics in the project! Which you should definitely check out. :>

#genshin impact #ragbros #fan zine #i have no idea what to tag this i usually do not self-promote XD;;#but this has been my baby since september and i'm very excite #also i had to pick ONE excerpt and that was so hard y'all #i had a list of four and had to make excruciating decisions re: spoilers #(also as usual aromantic eight was integral to plotting this #which probably goes without saying at this point but i still feel people should know)#fic excerpt #diluc and kaeya need so much therapy

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hekateinhell · 1 year

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I was rooting around in the Google Docs (pray for my soul) and I found a draft of Chapter 7 for Our House that I started in October, and I thought I'd share a bit that I'm particularly pleased with since I've really been feeling them a lot again lately! It's rather gloomy though, not horny. Sorry about that... you have to earn your smut with this one. ;)

“Penny for your thoughts?” Daniel dared to ask. His need to know would be the death of him, perhaps sooner than he’d once originally thought.

Armand scoffed in response, never taking his eyes off his own reflection. But the tension subdued somewhat as Daniel came to wrap his arms around his middle, bent down to rest his chin against the curve of Armand’s shoulder, tickling him with his scruff.

“How I used to fetch considerably more than a pretty penny once upon a time,” Armand sighed. It was so matter-of-fact too, with the same mild inflection one might use to comment, “It’s cloudy today, wonder if it’ll rain.” Didn’t match the tiredness Daniel could see etched in his face, the distance in his eyes—ten years and an ocean ago. Right behind the thought of now just what the fuck am I supposed to say to that?, came the startling he’s getting older… we both are.

Without ever bidding him a proper adieu, the sense of immortality and invincibility that had informed much of Daniel’s more—shall we say… risky?—decisions in his late-teens and early-twenties (included but not limited to: going through a bottle of vodka every two nights for four years; fucking the creepy cutie he’d met at Louis’s party completely unprotected without ever having said more than two sentences to him; picking up a brief coke habit, in-between getting off the drinking and getting into the aforementioned creepy cutie on a regular basis) had quietly departed. For fuck’s sake, he had a husband, a steady career, a Roth IRA, and a general 11 PM bedtime now.

Looking at their faces in the glass, Armand’s large honey-colored eyes meeting Daniel’s highly usual violet ones (Liz Taylor, his mother once said; White Diamonds, his sister had teased accordingly) without expectation or suggestion, he thought he could see the evidence, the alterations that the past couple years—hell, the past couple months—had left behind. It wasn’t all bad, the shadow of laugh lines shading in just past the corners of Armand’s lips, the same for the slight crinkles around Daniel’s eyes. Not quite drawn in, no, not yet, but the impressions were starting to form.

But Armand’s eyes… Daniel suddenly wondered when was the last he’d actually looked at them, divorced from the throes of passion or the midst of an outburst. Thought back to Armand’s face in the recent days as they went through their routine—handing Daniel his coffee in the morning, holding his gaze when Daniel bent down to give him a sloppy kiss goodbye on his way out the door, humming along to Blackbird when he folded the laundry on the living room floor—even seemingly serene and content; the shell-shocked stare never really went away. A deer that had narrowly escaped death one too many times for the shock to ever truly wear off.

When had that happened? What had finally done it?

#aka Baby Fic (or lack therefore which is The Problem)#aka Armand in Therapy Fic (he needs more of it and i'm on it)#and thanks to everyone who's been talking to me about them it got me excited all over again <33 #fic: our house #armand/daniel

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whoopssteddiefeels · 1 year

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Why do you want me today? Is it because you think you're wonderful? Am I fun to play?

Why do you want me today? Is it because you think you’re wonderful Or is it because you think you’re worth less than nothing at all?

#beck + call #july talk #The genre is wrong but the vibes are very steddie #Steddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #If I could think of a plot I'd write this song fic but I am bunny-less #those boys need therapy #can't tell me it would be a healthy relationship right off the bat #they're traumatized babies

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owoshrike · 11 months

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The One with the Flower Shop

(or an attempted gonami/nanago flowershop au drabble)

The sounds of the bustling city were barely muted through the glass of the windows, drowned out by the soft chiming of the radio station droning through the building. Satoru yawned loudly as he finished placing the last potted plant in the display case, shutting the door and putting the latch on. The man turned his head over to where the radio rested on the counter by the register, his mouth pursing as he made a thoughtful hum.

“Don’t even think about it, asshole.”

His mouth only spread out into a playful grin as his gaze trailed up to the pink haired man standing not too far from the radio, those sharp ruby eyes glaring daggers at him from their peripheral while his hands continued the task of counting out the money of their register.

Well, one of his hands at least.

The other hand was currently occupied by the tot that shared a striking resemblance to him. Right now, the little baby was playing with the man’s fingers like they were the most interesting thing in the world, pushing and pulling them apart while babbling so seriously about a topic that only held his interest. Satoru chuckled as he waltzed over to the counter with his hands in his pockets. “You shouldn’t curse around him, you know! Babies have an impressive memory, and he might grow up to be just as mean and grumpy as you are!”

Sukuna rolled his eyes and Satoru was convinced that they were going to pop out of his head from the action. “He’s not even paying attentio- OW!”

Satoru cackled as the man hissed and turned to glare at the baby that started biting on his finger, that one lone tooth that was pushing through his gums digging its way into his finger. He dislodged his finger and pulled his hand back, ignoring the whining cries the other was making. “I told you no more biting on my fingers, brat! It’s not my fault you threw your damn teething ring in the car.”

The pair then launched themselves into a half-hearted tug-of-war match, Satoru leaning his hip against the counter as he watched with amusement. Yuuji’s little brows scrunched in concentration and his cheeks puffed up as he pulled Sukuna’s hand towards him, his little feet scooting on the counter. The little baby huffed when Sukuna allowed his hand to come close to his face but whined when the man pulled it back with a snicker. With a smile that displayed all his teeth, Satoru placed his hands on the baby’s sides. “Sending in backup for my dear, Yuuji-chan!” he said, tugging the giggling baby back. “We’ll defeat the accursed king!”

Sukuna scowled and pulled his hand with more force since Satoru joined in but, to the white-haired man’s joy, his partner couldn’t keep it on his face for long as he saw how much the baby was enjoying the game. Even with his loud laughter and teasing words (“Such a nasty and cruel king, he is!” and “We’ll overthrow him together, Yuuji-chan!”) Satoru could tell that even the grump before him was thoroughly amused.

“Ba!” Yuuji shouted before he began to angle his body to crawl towards his father. Sukuna smirked and snaked his arm around the baby’s waist as his foot began to scoot, pulling him closer and sitting him upright again.

“Ohhhh no. I said you’re only allowed on the counter if you sit still,” he scolded lightly, pressing a kiss to the crown of his son’s head. The little baby gave a defiant wiggle, but Sukuna held fast, much to the white-haired man’s entertainment. Sukuna held his hand in front of Yuuji and tapped his finger against the baby’s lips. He did it repeatedly listening to the silly noises that bubbled from his son’s lips, the sounds delving into a giggle as Yuuji grabbed hold of his finger. Sukuna sighed and let him go back to gumming (occasionally biting) his finger. He pressed another kiss to the baby’s head before looking back at Satoru, frowning immediately when he caught those crystal blue eyes and shit eating grin. “What?”

“Oh nothing! Just that I never would’ve thought fatherhood would look good on you,” Satoru said with a laugh, twirling around the counter so that he was standing behind it with the other man. He was unphased when the other flipped him off so effortlessly in between his counting of the money, the older man opening the register for his partner to place the money back in. Once done, he took out his cell phone and opened the website for their store. “We’re going to be quite busy today though thankfully they were all call-in orders. Everything ready in the back?”

Sukuna hummed in agreement, nonchalantly tossing his head in the direction of their storeroom. “Everything except Mei’s order was completed,” he said, slowly removing his hand from Yuuji’s grasp. “Her bouquets are almost done but we ran out of the purple wrap that she wanted them wrapped in. I tried to order them to the store, but the damn app was acting up, so now I have to go pick them up.”

Satoru noticed how Yuuji’s hands reached into the air when his father pulled away, the taller man cooing and reaching out to scoop the baby into his arms. He held the other up and his heart swelled when the little boy giggled. “Then I guess while you go fabric shopping, I’ll have my little tiger helper! That means I get to dock your pay too!” he said cheerfully, the tone of his voice making the baby emote along with him.

The Satoru-proclaimed drama queen that was his partner narrowed his eyes at the pair, his lips twisting into a sneer with little to no venom. “Can’t believe you’re turning my own spawn against me by giving him my pay. He hasn’t done an ounce of work in his short lifespan anyway!” he huffed, poking his finger against the squishy cheek of his son. “And you didn’t even refute it either. You truly are a brat.”

Satoru rolled his eyes and peeked over his glasses at the man. “Go on now before the crowd comes in to pick these orders up. Oh! And don’t forget to grab his ring out of the car while you’re out!” he called out to the tattooed man as he stepped away from the counter. There was a grumble of words as the man flipped him off over his shoulder, disappearing out the front door with a tingle of the shop bell. A beat of silence fell over the shop aside from the music playing lowly through the speakers and Satoru felt Yuuji shift in his arms. The baby kept his eyes on the man through the window until he disappeared around the corner, sniffling when he didn’t see him reappear.

“Ba…ba….”

With a small sigh, Satoru pressed the baby’s head to the crook of his neck, patting him on the back. “Hey hey now, your papa’s coming back, little tiger,” he said as he turned away from the counter and headed towards the shelf containing watering cans. “How about you help me water the display plants so that you can prove to papa that you earned your pay! That grump would be proud of you and he knows it!”

Upon seeing Satoru grab the elephant shaped watering can, Yuuji’s scrunched up face immediately brightened, and he gave an interested coo as his chubby hands reached out to the can. After (finally) changing the station on the radio to something more pop-oriented, Satoru carried the two over to the front window of the shop where most of the plants were settled. He allowed Yuuji’s hands to rest next to his one hand that held the can, encouraging the other to tip it until the small sprinkle of water came out over the plants. This routine was pretty much ingrained into Satoru by now, even with the addition of the bab in his hand.

To think that just a few months ago, he would’ve still been stuck in boring meetings with boring men. While it would’ve left him well cushioned (more than he already was), it wouldn’t have been fun.

He squawked when he felt cold water manage to hit him in the cheek, looking down to see Yuuji sticking his hands under the spray and catching some water before immediately shaking it around with a loud and joyous squeal. Satoru should’ve figured that there was going to be some form of a mess during this process. “Well, at least he’s getting most of it on the plants,” he mumbled with a shake of his head.

The jingle of the bell above the door made him perk up, a natural charming smile making its way onto his face as he turned to face the newcomer.

“Welcome to Nature’s Domain- “

Satoru felt the words lodge in his throat at the sight of the man who walked in. The man was handsome in his neatly pressed tan suit against his broad form, not a single thread or wrinkle out of place. He didn’t seem to notice Satoru at first until he slightly inclined his head to the direction of his voice, the glare from the window shielding his eyes underneath the (rather odd in Satoru’s opinion) sunglasses. His cheekbones were sharp and shaped his face in such a mature way that made him look older than Satoru. All topped off with short cut blonde hair with an undercut in the back.

It had been a while since Satoru would’ve called himself smitten.

There was a small clank sound as his grip went slack and the white-haired man suddenly remembered the tot that he was holding onto. He didn't realize his grip on the watering can loosened while he was blatantly ogling the man and the can was obviously too heavy for the baby to hold on his own.

“Oh, oh,” Yuuji mumbled, looking down to the can on the ground before looking up at Satoru. He babbled a bit and waved his hand in the direction of the can. “Oh, oh!”

Satoru looked down before looking back up at the man, who only arched one of his eyebrows silently. He laughed lightly as he knelt down to grab the can. “Sorry about that, little tiger!” he said as he straightened back up with the can in his grasp. “I thought you were ready to pull your own weight around here!”

It didn’t get a laugh out of the man, but he could’ve sworn those lips twitched upwards for a miniscule second in the corner. Satoru accepted that as a win.

“So! How can we help you today, sir?” he asked as he headed towards the counter, sliding to the other side and propping Yuuji on his hip. “Let me guess, you’re here to pick up an order?”

The other paused before nodding his head. “Yes, I am, in fact. It would be under the name Kento Nanami,” he replied, and Satoru swore he could listen to that voice for the rest of his life.

Satoru nodded and moved over to the register, sliding his hand across the touchscreen as he pulled up the order registry. It only took three swipes of his finger before he snapped his fingers once he located it. “There you are, Nanamin! And you’re one of the few folks who paid online too so I’ll just need to see your credit card to confirm,” he said with a grin.

There was a small tick in the man’s- ‘Nanami’, his mind supplied for him- brow but he stayed silent as he reached into his coat pocket to take out the small billfold wallet. It was small simple thing made of black weather and Satoru had to fight the urge to laugh at just how it seemed to fit the man. Once he had the card in his hand, he held it up to the screen to confirm their matching numbers before handing it back. Their fingers brushed as Satoru placed the card back in his hand, and he noticed with slight satisfaction how it caused the man to tense for a moment before he relaxed and put the card back into his wallet.

“Gotcha! Just give me a moment and I’ll get that bouquet out for you,” Satoru said as he walked over to the case that was to the right of the counter. It was stocked to the brim with numerous bouquets and small vases filled with different flowers, each row tagged with the according reserved name. Nanami’s was on the third shelf and Satoru remembered that he was the one who prepared this order. It was a simple thing really; pink and yellow roses with anemone and succulent all bound together with a nice colored ribbon. It wasn’t too big and could easily fit in a small slender vase.

Satoru carefully removed it from the case, making sure to keep it far enough out of Yuuji’s reach when the baby made an attempted reach for it. He went around the counter and, now that he was close enough, he noticed that he was taller than the other man by a good three or four inches. As he moved to hold the bouquet out for Nanami, he felt Yuuji squirm in his hold, the baby hiding his face in Satoru’s arm with a small giggle. He blinked and watched as the baby moved his face again…only to hide it back with a louder laugh. Satoru followed his line of sight and noticed that the baby was peeking at Nanami, who was staring at the little boy with a cocked brow.

Ah, he understood now.

“Well, here you go! One bouquet for the gentleman made by yours truly!” he flaunted as he held the bouquet out as one would do when courting someone.

Nanami nodded his thanks and moved to grab the flowers gingerly. Finally, Satoru was able to see the tired eyes hidden beneath the green lenses of his glasses and he wondered if he could ever be fortunate enough to see the color of those eyes. He watched as they glanced at the baby in his arm as Nanami stepped back, Yuuji squealing once he finally got attention and hid his face once more. Satoru couldn’t help the laugh this time, almost laughing harder at the way the man pursed his lips. “What?”

“Nothing! Just seems you’ve managed to make yourself his favorite customer in the span of three minutes!” Satoru said, waggling his eyebrows up and down.

“But I’ve hardly done anything other than stare at him,” Nanami said lowly with a roll of his eyes but still looked back to the baby. “I haven’t even said a word to him.”

Satoru smiled and moved to hold Yuuji out by his armpits. “You can start now since he seems so fascinated with you! Say hi to Nanamin, Yuuji!”

The baby blinked as he gazed at Nanami before raising one of his hands and clenching his fingers in a baby-like wave. Despite Nanami’s lack of a reaction, those little chubby feet kicked out in excitement, and he even babbled a couple of incoherent but nonetheless happy words. Satoru wiggled the baby happily with a giggle.

“If you’re going to say my name to him, at least say my name correctly, please,” Nanami scolded Satoru. That hint of a smile that Satoru saw earlier finally showed itself, a small thing that graced the handsome man’s face just barely as he regarded the little boy with a small nod. “Hello to you too, Yuuji-chan.”

At the sound of his name, Yuuji gave a wide gummy smile and waved his hand again as he squirmed more in Satoru’s hold. Nanami laughed lightly before looking to Satoru again, the smile shrinking a small amount. “Thank you for the flowers. They are quite nice.”

“Just nice? Not “extremely beautiful” or “the greatest you’ve seen ever’!” Satoru teased with a pout, pulling the baby back to him. He waved his hand dismissively. “Well, they aren’t my most extravagant work, I’ll admit that, but I still take pride in them as all artists do.”

“They definitely show that you have skill with presentation and composition. I don’t doubt your skills one bit. Unfortunately, something simple was all that I needed this time.”

This time. Satoru’s focus immediately honed on those words and his charming façade nearly slipped for a moment. “Is that so?” he questioned, tilting his head to the side. “If I may ask, what did you need these for?”

Nanami hummed as he seemed to consider the question for a moment. “It’s just a congratulatory gift for one of my coworkers. I personally wasn’t going to get them anything because we barely speak to one another, but the rest of the office wanted to plan a small party and said that it would be very awkward if I was the only one who didn’t give them anything considering how…popular they are. Since I had no idea what to get them, they suggested a bouquet,” he said, sighing at the end. He looked back down at the flowers in his hands. “As simple as these are, they are still very impressive, um-”

“Gojo.” Satoru shifted Yuuji on his hip as he held his hand out. “Satoru Gojo. Co-owner of Nature’s Domain.”

Not only was he taller than the man, but his fingers stretched slightly longer than Nanami’s as the other clasped his hand in a quick and firm shake (‘very business-like’ Satoru thought with a giggle). Even with the brief contact, Satoru could feel just how warm Nanami’s hand felt against his and he wished he could hold them longer.

“Again, thank you for the flowers, Gojo-san. I’ll make sure to recommend your business to my coworkers whenever they’re planning anything in the future. Do you have a business card?” the blonde asked as he glanced over to the counter to check.

Of course, they had business cards. Sukuna made sure that they stayed stocked up on them like it was second nature to him. To Satoru’s displeasure, they only had the store’s number, website, and their names listed which, yes, that’s what business cards were supposed to have…but not for his purpose right now. Satoru made an effort to hum loudly, cupping his chin with his hand in thought. “We usually do, but our printer conked out this week so we haven’t been able to print anymore for in-shop!” he said with a shake of his head. He snapped his finger and grinned wide enough to show his teeth. “Ah! How about I just give you my contact information that way you can place your orders with me personally! That way you can get first pickings for your arrangement to be made by the one and only, Satoru Gojo!”

Nanami’s eyebrows furrowed and his lips pursed slightly in uncertainty. “I don’t think that would be necessary, Gojo-san. Besides, that seems very unprofessional. I’ll just use your contact information from your website. It shouldn’t be difficult to find,” he said matter-of-factly much to Satoru’s displeasure.

“Well sure, but it’s faster if you just reach out to me, don’t you think? That way your order can be done quickly and you won’t have to wait for so long!” he argued.

“That wouldn’t be fair to your other customers, don’t you think? What dictates me to get the special treatment?”

“I can tell you would make a very good clientele, Nanamin! Call it intuition. Plus, you gained Yuuji’s favor on top of that.”

The baby cooed and gummed at his fist, Satoru moving to pull his spit covered hand away from his mouth while peeking at Nanami over the rim of his glasses. His face was near impassible aside from a small frown in the space between his brows and a slight tensing of his jaw before, finally- blessedly- the man sighed in defeat. Hesitantly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. “As long as our conversations are only business related, so be it. Please let me know once you have your business cards back in stock so that I can place them in the office.”

Satoru smiled and gave the man his number, peeking around the screen only to frown when he saw Nanami put it under the name “Satoru Gojo (Nature’s Domain)”. No plant emojis, heart emojis or anything! He blew air through his lips but still found himself satisfied when he heard his phone go off in his back pocket, Nanami nodding to affirm that that was his text that went through.

“I’ll message you as soon as I get off of work! Hey, do you like sweets, Nanamin?” he asked as he walked the other to the door.

“Please don’t call me that and let’s try to stay professional with this exchange, Gojo-san,” Nanami said with an exasperated tone.

The taller male only hummed in thought. “Well, we could always be old fashioned and get a nice cup of coffee together! You look like an avid coffee drinker!”

“Did you even hear what I just said?”

Nanami sighed and looked down at Yuuji, awkwardly waving his hand once he had the baby’s full attention. “It was pleasure meeting you, Yuuji-chan. And I suppose you as well, Gojo-san,” he said, directing his attention to Satoru as he addressed him. “You two have a good day now.”

The bell of the door chimed as the businessman walked out, turning to walk briskly down the sidewalk. Satoru stepped closer to the window as he watched the other man walked towards the crosswalk, blinking in surprise as he realized that Nanami must’ve walked here from his office. Once the other escaped his line of sight, Satoru couldn’t help the small smile that spread on his face.

“My, my, Yuuji-chan,” he said as he spun around to head back towards the counter. “We definitely have to find a way to get him back in here, don’t we!”

#shrike writes #fanfic #fic #drabble #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fic #nanago #gonana #gonami #nanami x gojo #TADAAAA #wow. I think the last i posted a fic or drabble on tumblr was like...2013 or something on my other acct #BUT HERE WE ARE IN THE FUTURE #funfact: ive been sitting on this fic for like...a year now? and it originally started as satosugu with sugu in satoru's place #i only changed it to gonami cause i just personally like the ship better #i do have other ideas for this au but i cant promise anything lolol #this was purely self indulgent as a therapy for myself after i started reading the manga xD #also baby yuuji with papakuna is free therapy. it just is ;u;

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