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circusgoth-dotcom · 1 year

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Missing Kissing

Ship: Betelgeuse x Keaton Alistair Deetz

Word Count: 1618

Summary: Keaton has been gone on a trip all week, leaving his family and husband behind. Everybody is restless without him, seeing as he spends a majority of his time at home, but especially Betelgeuse, who resorts to causing problems around the house as a way of expressing his discontent. Eventually, however, Keaton returns, and everything is put back into balance. CWs for Betelgeuse being an ass and some suggestiveness (but nothing explicit) between Keaton and Betelgeuse.

Tag List: @canongf @futurewife @rexscanonwife

When Keaton had left his parents' new house for an extended period of time, for the first time, he had asked his husband- who happened to be a poltergeist -to stay home. He was going on a "spiritual journey" with some friends from New York and would be back in a week, and while that did not seem like a considerable amount of time in the grand scheme of things, his absence was quickly noticeable and had distinct effects on each of his family members.

His mother, Delia, while at first seemed happy that her son was branching out and discovering himself, soon showed signs of anxiety and discontent, throwing herself into her art in an even more erratic fashion than usual. She liked when he was nearby, when he depended on her, even when they had their rows. After all, he was her only son, her only biological heir, and she would always be there for him… whether he wanted to move out or not, that was ultimately his decision.

His step-father, Charles, while much more supportive of Keaton gaining independence and buckling down in the ways of being an adult, hated to see Delia upset. In part because it could make her unbearable to be around, and in part because she was his wife. While they seemed almost incompatible to their children, they did love each other… it was just rather hard to explain.

For Lydia, his younger step-sister, it was strange not being around someone she felt completely understood her. The Maitlands were nice, of course, and she cared for them deeply, but nothing compared to her likeminded step-brother. The Maitlands, the resident ghosts, understood how Lydia felt incomplete without Keaton’s companionship and did their best to support and entertain her in his absence. They missed him, too, but felt sure he was having fun, wherever he had gotten off to.

And of course, lastly, there was his undead husband, Betelgeuse, who was taking Keaton’s leave the hardest. If he wasn’t grouching around the house and purposefully annoying his in-laws, he wasn’t around at all. Though Keaton had explicitly told him to stay home, that didn’t stop him from traipsing around the Netherworld, seeking new victims- customers to hook with his premium Bioexorcist scam- business. Still, by the end of the week, tensions were beginning to run high between the poltergeist and his husband’s family.

“That’s it, I’ve had it! I know Keaton married that… that demon to keep him out of our hair, but what’s the point of that when he’s not around?!” Delia shrieked as she stomped out of her studio, covered in dust and muck from a newly destroyed work-in-progress sculpture.

“Hey, lady, your son’s come to love me for more than that, if you haven’t noticed,” Betelgeuse growled as he floated after her. “And y’know what, I’ll tell ‘im you said that! I’ll tell ‘im you don’t approve of us and you’d rather him move far away and never talk to you again, that’d make you real happy, wouldn’t it?”

“You know, he won’t exactly be happy with you, either, once he hears how you’ve been harassing us all week,” Barbara piped up, appearing through a nearby wall.

“Shove it, Babs,” Betelgeuse snarled, pushing her back through.

“He’s coming back today, don’t get your noose in a twist,” Lydia snapped over her book as Betelgeuse followed Delia into the living room. He paused long enough for her to escape up the stairs, folding his arms.

“Oh yeah, real mature, Lydia. I’m still sensitive about that, y’know!”

“That’s not even how you died!”

“You don’t know that!”

“Well you haven’t exactly told us otherwise!”

The two settled into huffy silence as Lydia went back to her book and Betelgeuse continued to stand like a spoiled child. He eventually summoned a chair and sat beside the front door, waiting.

“So er, when did you say he’d be back, Lyds?” The poltergeist called across the hall in a much calmer tone.

“I don’t know, sometime today.” She turned the pages while Betelgeuse sighed, studying the ceiling.

“Kids these days.”

For the next two hours, Betelgeuse sat at the door, fidgeting with his hands and tapping his ragged black loafers against the hardwood floor. Delia bustled past him after a lengthy shower, refusing to acknowledge his existence, and the rest of the house generally followed suit. Finally, the familiar sound of a key turning in the lock made Betelgeuse stand, his chair disappearing from sight as he poised himself to take Keaton’s luggage. The door opened and Keaton stepped in, suitcase in tow.

“Keaty-baby, welcome home!” Betelgeuse crooned. Upon snapping his fingers, the suitcase transferred hands as he kissed his husband’s cheek. “How was the trip?”

“Oh, loads of fun,” he yawned, stretching his arms high above his head, “not to mention completely exhausting.”

“Well we can’t have that, c’mon, c’mon, y’need to sit down and take a load off, I’ll take care of this.” With a pop, the poltergeist disappeared to put away the luggage. Keaton shrugged to himself, closing the door behind him and shuffling into the living room to take a seat.

“Keaton!” Delia called, rushing in to hug him.

“Hi ma.”

“Welcome home, son,” Charles waved from the doorway.

“How was the trip? Did you have fun?” Delia pestered.

“Yes, ma, I had fun… I’ll tell you all about it later, but I’d really just like to get some rest, now. Appreciate being home and all.”

“Of course…” Delia backed off, briefly caressing her son’s hair with a beaming expression before returning to her previous task. At that moment, Lydia came down the stairs and eagerly went to hug Keaton as well.

“I’ve got a question for you; how’ve things been here, without me?” Keaton asked lowly, keeping an eye out in case any of the other adults entered the room.

“Rough. Particularly when it comes to bugboy. Everything was fine the day after you left, but by the third day Delia was on the verge of a nervous breakdown and your husband would cause problems wherever he saw fit.”

Keaton sighed, pushing up his glasses to massage the bridge of his nose. “That… doesn’t surprise me. I’ll make him apologize.”

“You better not take this as a sign not to leave for so long ever again, my dad will have a cow. At least bring me with you next time.”

Keaton smiled and squeezed his step-sister’s hand. “We’ll see.”

As Lydia walked away, Betelgeuse returned to Keaton’s side, looking pleased as punch. “First of all, let’s get these shoes off,” he hummed as he knelt between his husband’s legs, untying his sneakers and slipping them off before chucking them across the room. “And get you into something a little more comfortable.”

The poltergeist snapped his fingers and what had been a sweatshirt and baggy cargo pants turned into a tank top and shorts.

“Beej, I’m gonna get cold,” but Keaton had barely said the sentence before his sweatshirt suddenly returned.

“Well, I’d like to see you naked instead, but everybody’s still awake,” Betelgeuse spoke in a low, lustful tone as he rested his frigid cheek on his husband’s knee. His dark eyes, which usually glittered with malice and mischief, were deep pools of adoration as he looked up into his husband’s face. All his frustration had instantaneously slipped away… for the most part. Keaton shifted, folding his arms.

“Uh-uh, you’re not getting any of this until you’ve apologized for your behaviour this week. Don’t try to look innocent, Lydia’s already told me.”

Betelgeuse’s head instantly popped up as he scowled. “Stinking rat…”

“Watch it, Juice, or you’re sleeping in the Netherworld tonight.”

“Fine, fine, I’ll apologize! Later.” He snaked his hands around Keaton’s calves, running his calloused palms up and down his soft skin. “But you can’t expect me to say anything right now, I haven’t seen you in a week…”

He bent low to kiss his ankle, then trailed up his shin and knee, placing more and more exaggerated kisses as he travelled up his husband’s leg. His breath was hot, a startling contrast to his deathly cold skin, and tickled as he made lewd smacking sounds with his lips against Keaton’s inner thigh, teasingly flicking his tongue against his stretchmarks.

“Stop it, you crazy geist,” Keaton laughed, gently pushing back against the top of his head.

“Never. I can’t get enough of ya.” He fought against his hand easily, reaching up to lift his sweatshirt just enough to blow raspberries on his stomach.

“Stop, stop! That tickles!”

“What? I can’t- ppbbt hear you over- ppbbt all that giggling! Pppbbbbtt!!!” Seizing his chance, the ghost scattered his fingers up his husband’s sides as well, making him squeal with laughter.

“Mercy! Mercy!!!”

“Ah, but I’m just getting started!” In one swift movement, Betelgeuse scooped Keaton into his arms and swapped places with him, landing contentedly in the chair with his husband laying against his chest and stomach, gasping for air. As the last of his giggles shook through him, Keaton leaned forward and captured Betelgeuse’s lips with his own.

“I’ve missed you so much, babes.” The ghost wrapped a firm hand around his husband’s rear, resting his forehead against his.

“I missed you, too. I’ll plan a trip for the both of us someday, okay?”

“I don’t need to go anywhere, I’m just content so long as I have access to you.” It wasn’t long before Keaton fell asleep, cheek pressed to his husband’s chest and arms hanging loosely around his soft belly. If I wasn’t already dead, I’d say this moment right here would allow me to die happily… Betelgeuse thought to himself as he stroked his husband’s back.

#self shipping #self shipping community #self insert #self insert x canon #self x canon #circus scripts #📓👻.s/i #🪲Two Bugs in A Rug🪲#🌻👻#<- platonic f/os #☔My Whole Life Is One Big Dark Room☔#<- familial f/o

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shittybundaskenyer · 5 years

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5 for the sad drabbles!! Whoever you think it'd best fit :)

Thank you so much for the prompt! I went with Delia and Alistair post-Inquisition, I thought it’d fit them perfectly :D

“I wonder if you know what you are doing to me.” | From this list

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Thunder rumbles in the distance and the wind softly whistles outside the tent but it’s warm inside, with his chest pressed to Delia’s back and the furs pulled up to their necks. He usually finds peace in just sleeping with her in his arms but tonight is different. Tonight his mind’s racing with terrible thoughts and memories and the dull ache in his side is keeping him up, too.

Alistair sighs softly into the crook of her neck and his breath lifts a few strands of hair on her nape. Delia is a loud sleeper but tonight she’s quiet, curled up into a ball and clutching one of his hands that hugs her middle.

“Sleep,” she mumbles and he lets out a sudden exhale, burying his nose further into her neck, lips brushing her skin.

“I didn’t know you were awake,” he murmurs and she shifts, turning towards him, quietly hissing from the stinging pain in her shoulder and back. She had been tossed and kicked multiple times the other day and even if her injuries were not severe, she looks pretty beaten up still.

“I wasn’t.”

“Sorry for waking you,” he whispers and leans closer to her so their noses almost bump. Delia smiles, just a little twitch of the corner of her mouth, but it’s there and Alistair’s heart flutters.

“It’s fine,” she lifts a hand and to his face so she can touch the thickening stubble on his jawline. Her thumb slowly caresses his skin until it reaches his mouth, gently tracing his lower lip.

Alistair plants a small kiss on her finger and pulls her closer to his chest.

“Delia?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you so reckless?” He mutters and kisses her palm, her wrist and leans closer to kiss her forehead. “We’re not so young anymore, yet you always jump into the middle of danger.” He pushes the hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear and he sighs again, his hand returning to her temple and carefully traces the dark violet bruise around her left eye. She can’t open it fully and the bruise’s edges already started to turn into an ugly shade of green.

“It’s just the way how I am. You should know this. We’re married, you know,” she smiles, but truly this time and places her palm on his hand that’s stroking her face.

“I know, I just…” he closes his eyes for a moment and bites his lip, not sure if he should say what he wants. “As every minute passes there are just fewer and fewer moments we have and I think you don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

“I—” She tries to respond with something clever but the words are not coming, and even if they would, they’re not enough to describe how she feels. She looks down at the small patch of freckled skin that’s visible above his shirt.

It starts to rain outside.

Alistair waits, the silence making him tense and his face pulls into a slight frown, drawing worried wrinkles into his forehead.

“I know you wanted me to find the cure,” when she finally speaks it is barely a whisper, muttered into the crook of his neck as she pulls him close, trying to feel every part of him with her body. Alistair shudders but doesn’t interrupt her, not when he finally got an answer. “I know you wanted to have a family with me. I know you wanted to grow old with me, and I’m sorry.”

When the truth is out in the open it’s harder than he first thought. She knows him even better than he knows himself, she knows his darkest fears and deepest desires and when she says them out loud he feels they will never come to pass. Not the good and not the bad. Their love remains a tragedy, two broken warriors destined to die by the taint before they can grow old.

“I know you did everything you could I just… I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to wait until the light disappears from your eyes. I don’t want to see how your skin turns purple, how black veins spread through your body. I don’t want to see how you fade away. I can’t,” his bottom lips trembles and he has to look away because if he stares into her eyes a second longer he will break into pieces and never be whole again.

Her fingers ghost over his chest, slipping under the fabric of his shirt until her palm lays flat above his heart.

“Do you think I feel differently? That I am not afraid of seeing you fall apart?” She shifts a little and tucks her head under his chin so she can rest her head next to his pulse point, listening to his wildly beating heart.

“No,” he exhales slowly until every last gulp of air leaves his lungs and he hopes a bit of his pain floats away with it too. “But that’s not an excuse for you throwing yourself into danger every time. I know I’ll lose you sooner than I should but I don’t want you to die in a mere sword fight,” he swallows and she knows he’s fighting back tears. She would be too if she could have any tears left.

“I know it’s hard, my love,” she tries to soothe him with her voice, with small pecks above the neckline of his shirt but Alistair is grieving tonight, she realises, and it breaks her heart too because when she was on the road for almost a year, alone, without any hope and the Calling whispering in the back of her mind she felt exactly like him. “I know.”

Alistair shudders and grips her shoulder, holding her as close as he can. Pain shoots up her side but she doesn’t care, not when he clings so desperately into her and weeps like she’d died already.

“Am I cursed?” His voice cracks and her heart does too. Alistair kisses her temple, the edge of the bruise, and the crown of her head.

“My dear Alistair,"she tilts her head up and kisses him softly, reassuring, and mutters quietly, "In this world, we’re all cursed.”

#dragon age #alistair x warden #alistair theirin #warden alistair #warden cousland #delia cousland #alistair x cousland #alistair x delia #prompt fill #1000 word drabble #my writing #my ocs #i love them so much #even if i always write some heartbreaking shit for them #<3

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