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#and everything i do remember is unpleasant
yoursweetwife · 2 days
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female!reader
Aventurine is a very faithful partner. If he truly loves, then other people, no matter how beautiful and influential they are, will not force Aventurine to give up his love. Because their motives are too obvious for someone as insightful as him.
At the same time, you allowed him to remember what it means to be loved, to feel sincere care. Your support helped him even in the worst days, when he thought that life had no meaning at all.
Aventurine lost almost everything, so he learned to appreciate what he has. And Aventurine knows that you love him, but often uncertainty takes over.
For a long time now he has not paid attention to what the young woman circling around him are talking about. Their attempts to get his attention seem somewhat pathetic, which makes the shadows on the floor look more interesting. Instead, he watches you laugh at the young gentleman's joke, making Aventurine's stomach twist with an unpleasant feeling.
He clearly sees the young man's interest in you; would he be a good partner if he interrupted the conversation? Would you be angry with him if he came up, kissed you in front of all these people, picked you up and carried you away?
You feel his gaze burning holes in the back of your head, and you meet his neon purple eyes. Aventurine's breathing stops for a moment as you smile sweetly at him, the unchanging smirk turning into a real smile meant just for you. (He sees that the man is looking at him with envy, and the ladies are hopelessly trying to turn his gaze on themselves.)
Aventurine leaves the crowd and imposingly walks to the place where you are patiently waiting for him, without looking away. His hand finds its rightful place on your thigh and you don’t miss the opportunity to rest your head on his chest, allowing Aventurine to feel the peace he’s been missing since you were taken away.
He good-naturedly tells your friend his name, as if mocking the man who knew exactly who he was dealing with.
"Do you mind if I take this beautiful lady from you?"
There is a hidden threat in his soft voice, and the young man simply nods, not wanting to meet the intense violet eyes.
"Wonderful."
As soon as you enter your room, Aventurine presses you against the cold wood and desperately kisses the soft lips that he has been secretly looking at for the last couple of hours.
It was like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders when your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer, leaving almost no space. You've never met a person who loves touch as much as Aventurine. This always helped him get all his worries out of his head.
A hand runs through his golden hair, and Aventurine hums in satisfaction, enjoying your gentle touches.
The laughter leaves your lips while Aventurine continues to kiss your face.
"Did someone really miss me?"
Aventurine smiles softly and strokes your face with his thumb.
"Stronger than you think."
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tavs-tressym · 2 days
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Delicious Denial - Chapter Six
(AO3 Link) | Master List
Rating: Explicit, 18+
Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Tav (You)
Word Count: 3800 (approx)
Tags: Fluff, eventual smut, domestic fluff, camp life, slow burn romance, sexual tension (A LOT). Jealous Astarion, lake scene.
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A reimagining of the game's events if Tav had zero magical or fighting ability. But she's still pretty fucked up. 👍
(Lots of comforting camp life content)
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A/N: Splish splash I was takin' a bath...
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Chapter Six - Splash
Picking a semi-dry spot in the soil, you try not to spill your wine as you lower yourself into a cross-legged position. Astarion does the same beside you, much more gracefully, stretching his legs out and resting his weight on his arms behind him. For a moment, you both take in the serenity of the lake, not injecting a word into the comfortable silence. You focus on your breathing, then on his. The rhythm almost matches, but the more you focus on it, the more irregular it becomes.
“So, the story?”
“Hmm? Oh, yes… Turns out I’m being hunted. Or, was...” He replies, nonchalantly.
You turn to him in confusion. “Hunted? You specifically?”
He nods and looks at you for a moment. His smile leaves his eyes but not his lips as he inspects your face. He sighs and looks down. “I corrected you last night. I told you that I’m a vampire spawn. Remember?”
“What’s the difference?”
He scoffs at your naivety, shaking his head. “Everything. A true vampire has power. A spawn… Is a slave- no, less than a slave. Our master speaks, our bodies react…” He takes a deep breath, steadying his nerves. “My ma-... old master is Cazador Szarr, a vampire lord in Baldur’s Gate. He turned me two-hundred years ago, and for two-hundred years, he has been my tormentor… He wants me back...”
You nod, thoughtfully. It’s hard for you to picture a man so well kept and confident in such a position. Then something clicks. “Szarr… As in, Szarr Palace?”
He cocks his head in intrigue. “The very same. You know it?”
“Yes. Or, at least, the outside of it. I was never allowed in… It always looked so grand. To think, it’s been crawling with vampires this whole time…” You look to the floor as unpleasant memories flash before you: Hands. Dragging you along as you tripped on cobbles, the thunk of palace doors, the sun drying your lips as you waited for hours at a time, not allowed to sit, not allowed to move, not allowed to think…
Astarion furrows his brow in concentration as he inspects your face, desperately trying to remember if he has (and praying he hasn’t) seen you before. You snap yourself out of your spiral and are startled by the intensity of his eyes. “What? What is it?”
“Nothing…” He looks away and you do the same.
A moment of contemplation passes as you draw patterns with your finger on your knee. “I’m sorry… Two-hundred years, it-... it sounds awful.”
He rolls his eyes, flippantly, clearly reluctant to accept your sympathy. “Ugh… Well… Thank you, darling.” He leans back a little, silently thankful that the difficult sharing portion of the conversation is over.
The side of your mouth curls into a subtle grin. His stubbornness is endearing, in a way, and you suppose you can hardly blame him, the last thing you would want is pity either. So, you decide to move onto the facts of the situation: “How did you escape?”
“I was in the middle of er- doing Cazador’s bidding when the mind flayers snatched me. Ever since I was infected with this tadpole, his commands haven’t been able to reach me.” He can’t help but smile as he tips wine into his mouth.
“Hm, that’s lucky.” You are about to take a sip of your own wine when you decide to raise the cup in a toast instead. “To being lucky.”
He chuckles, softly and clinks the cups together. “To being very fucking lucky.”
After swallowing the tart wine, you trace your finger around the rim of the cup in thought. You want to ask him why he’s telling you this, but before you can speak the words, he stands and walks closer to the lake. His hands find the hem of his bloodied shirt and he begins to lift it. “Woah! What are you doing?!” You cover your eyes with your hand.
He pauses his motion and laughs. “Well, as lovely an accessory as the blood of my enemies is, I don’t fancy wearing it throughout the night.”
“Oh, right, okay, I’ll let you get on with it then.” You stand, still blocking your vision and start backing away, using your free hand to feel out for any obstacles.
Then cold, smooth fingers wrap around yours. “Darling, not to be rude, but when was the last time you bathed?” Your eyes widen behind your hand and you sniff under your arm…
Okay… It has been a while…
“I won’t look, I promise. Not unless you want me to.” He purrs, the sound of his voice making you blush and scoff. Then you feel something solid placed in your hand. It’s cube shaped and a little slippery. You brush your thumb over it, popping tiny bubbles on it’s surface. Soap. The thought of bathing next to each other is both incredibly enticing and terrifying. You wonder if you can truly trust him not to look, or if this whole thing is just some manipulative, gross attempt for him to get in your pants. But presently, you can’t even read his face. No, it’s too much, too soon. You can’t do this… At least… Not alone…
You pretend to be unaware of his intentions and pray to all the gods that he can’t see through your feigning of innocence. “Hold on, I’ll ask the others.”
“The others?” You feel his grip on your hand loosen.
“Surely, it’s been a while for everyone. You weren’t planning on keeping me all to yourself now, were you?” You smirk and turn away, removing your hand and allowing vision to return to your eyes. You hear him chuckle as you saunter off towards camp.
The others agree to join you, with Gale nodding a little too eagerly. “Yes!” Karlach fist pumps the air in excitement as Shadowheart looks up at her, smirking. Even Lae’zel takes you up on the offer, quickly retrieving her things with a seductive gaze towards Wyll, who bashfully agrees too. Together, you make your way back to the lake; towels and soap in hand.
The water is up to Astarion’s chest, concealing everything but his pale shoulders from your view. Just as he notices you and begins to grin, he is immediately consumed by a wave crashing into him, followed by Karlach’s cackles. Somehow she is already in nothing but her underclothes and bobbing her head above the surface, revelling in the feeling of crisp, cold water soothing her blazing skin. “Come on! Get in!” She shouts. Astarion’s head appears again, curls straightened by the weight of the water and flopping over his face, you can’t help but laugh. Shadowheart and Lae’zel waste no time and follow in Karlach’s footsteps, swiftly undressing and stepping into the water. Lae’zel looks behind her at Wyll and beckons him with a gesture of her hand. He clears his throat and begins to unbutton his shirt.
Suddenly, warm breath tickles your ear. “Can I tell you a secret?” Startled, you look behind you to see Gale, cheeks red and bashful. “I’m a tad nervous about all this…” He definitely looks like it, it’s sweet. You smile warmly then take a step back and look him up and down. He’s clearly an attractive man and that robe, although humble, clings to his soft yet somehow firm physique. “W-what is it?”
“Just surprised that you are nervous about this, that’s all.” You smirk at him, playfully.
He chuckles. “Ah, well, thank you,” He tucks his hair behind his ear. “But that’s not it, exactly. It’s just a bit… Exposing…”
You nod, understandingly. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?”
“Yes, don’t worry, I am well aware. But gods, if I’m totally honest… Tav, I stink.”
You giggle. “Me too. Come, we can do it together.”
You hold out your hand and lead him closer to the lake where you begin to undo your pants, not seductively in any way, just like you would if you were alone in your tent. But that doesn’t stop Gale from having to clear his throat and pull his eyes away from you to undo his robe, revealing the white wrap shirt and leather pants beneath. As you slide off your trousers over your plump thighs and step out, your, now untucked, burnt orange shirt flows halfway over your rear. You stand straight and struggle with the tight fastenings of your shirt. You sigh, annoyed at the effort. “Do you… Um… Need help?” Gale asks, sheepishly. You chuckle and nod, stepping closer. He tries to maintain his composure as he reaches for the knot above your chest. You look up at him, amused by his embarrassment.
You notice the several difficult knots that hold his wrap shirt together. “Thanks, um… Do you need help?”
“Oh-um… Yes, please. Thank you.” You smile and work on undoing the shirt until it’s hanging off his body. He pulls away and shrugs off the fabric. You lift yours above your head, feeling his eyes on your body as your vision is momentarily blocked by the linen of your shirt. Once you can see again, he’s already looking away.
Taking his hand again, you step into the water together. It’s delightfully warm, thanks to Karlach who’s having a splash fight with Shadowheart not too far away. You close your eyes and sigh as the water soothes aches and embraces skin. Gale, too, revels in the feeling, wading a little further into the lake, letting go of your hand as the surface swallows his body up to his chest. Opening your eyes at the loss of contact, you follow him. His eyes find yours again, smiling, grateful for your company. You smile back, eyes trailing down his face and focusing on the design between his collarbones. You mustn’t have been very subtle about it as you see his hand emerging from the water to touch it.
“It’s pretty.”
He smiles. “Thank you… It’s not here by choice though, I’m afraid.”
“Is it something to do with that bomb-thing in your chest?”
He furrows his brows in surprise and confusion. “How did you…” You gesture towards Astarion who’s washing himself at a distance from the rest of the group, sulking. “Ah…” Gale looks down, irritated, an emotion you haven’t seen from him before. “I didn’t give him permission to tell you about that… But,” He sighs, letting his hand drop beneath the water again. “Oh well, you know now…”
You bite your lip in regret, you didn’t want to cause any rifts between them. You try to save it. “I don’t know much, just that it’s there and you have to consume magical items to stop it from killing us all.” You avoid the topic of Mystra, unsure of how he would feel about you knowing about her.
He chuckles at your blunt delivery. “That’s certainly a simplified way of putting it…” He takes a deep breath, clearly feeling a little awkward and lathers his soap, offering you the bar to do the same. You take it and scrub the bubbles into your skin. 
You avoid looking at each other as you wash yourselves, then after a loud silence, he cuts through it. “Would you believe me if I told you it was all my fault?” You look at him with a raised eyebrow and shrug. He laughs. “Fair enough, I suppose you don’t know me all that well yet… It was an accident. I was trying to impress someone, but it went too far.” He shakes his head in shame.
“A girl?” You ask with a teasing smirk.
He laughs again. “A goddess. My goddess. Although, I don’t think she’d appreciate me calling her that anymore. I was one of her chosen… And later, her lover.” He pauses for effect, as painful as it is to relive the memories, he can’t resist a humble brag. You raise an eyebrow and  nod slowly, understandingly and not wanting to press him for more information. As much as you want to ask about it and as hard as it is to believe that a mere mortal can satisfy a goddess, his wounds seem too fresh. “When she found out what I’d done, she cast me aside. We haven’t spoken since.” His slight smile drops and he stares into the rippling water.
“I’m sorry… It sounds like you were really close.”
He nods, taking a deep breath. “Yes, well, that was then. And, I suppose, this is now.” He looks up at you and offers a bittersweet smile, you return it.
The moment is interrupted by a large splash of water over you both, startled, you look around, frantically, and find Astarion, closer than before, making his way past you, heading to the shallow end. “Whoops.” He states, unconvincingly. You scoff at his pettiness.
“Excuse me, Gale. I’m getting the slightest feeling that someone wants my attention. I’ll see you later.” He goes to say something, but instead he smiles and nods, resuming his bath. You, however, charge full steam ahead through the water, following Astarion.
The surface lowers as you move, revealing more and more of your body, concealed only by your underclothes. “Oi! Get back here!” He laughs, pleased to hear that you’re following him. The cold air hits your chest and you start to shiver, eager to submerge yourself back into the warm water, but you’re determined now and Astarion annoyed you. You follow the back of his head as his shoulders become a torso, above the water. You stop. You stop because you see them.
Scars.
Gods above…
Raised and red, curving into circular, indecipherable language. An abhorrent marking of possession. Of property. Between painful lines are glimpses of untouched, undefiled skin. A fractured memory of what it was before. It’s terrible, it’s tragic, it’s poetry and it’s torture.
He hears your halt in movement and turns around, eyes already low and prepared to gaze at your form, which he does. He follows your lines until he meets your face. Your eyes are wide, lips are parted, brows are knitted. It’s something he never wanted to see on your sweet face: Pity. For a moment he forgot about it, the burden he carries, the weight on his back. He’s shocked to realise it and even more shocked to realise this isn’t the first time it’s happened when he’s around you. But he pushes the thought aside and clears his throat. He looks away in shame, suddenly feeling creeping vulnerability on his exposed skin.
SPLASH!
With no time to react, Astarion is engulfed in a wave of surging water. It’s not enough to knock him over, like Karlach’s, but it’s enough to drench him again. He gasps and wipes his eyes, peaking through the blur to see your determined grin and readied stance. You might be shit on the battlefield, but this is no typical fight. This is a motherfucking water fight.
He laughs, relieved to have the moment of tension broken. It’s infectious and you giggle along with him, momentarily lowering your guard. A mistake.
SPLASH!
“Oh, you motherfu-!”
SPLASH!
He cackles at your sopping wet state, slicking back his hair, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. Each time he tries to open his eyes, he sees your hair dripping and sticking to your fierce, determined face, setting off another bout of laughter. You giggle for a moment, appreciating the unrestrained sound that rumbles from deep within his chest. “Alright, alright, it’s not that funny.”
He half regains his composure. “Oh but it is, darling. It really is.”
You flick him with the drops that formed around your fingertips. He scrunches his face in a delightful way as they hit him and chuckles. In retaliation, he cups his hands and lowers them below the surface until they’re full, and moves closer, taunting you with it. “Nooo! No! No! Don’t you dare!” You scream and laugh, frantically wading backwards through the water to get away from him. He follows closely, laughing at your panic as he raises his hands over your head, preparing to drop it. You try to duck away but he lets go at just the right time. You narrow your eyes up at him through the drops cascading down your face. He smugly peers down at you, chuckling softly. For a moment, you both just stay there, laughing at each other, dripping with lake water.
Then all of a sudden, he’s leaning in. No, he’s throwing himself at you. No, he’s… Falling? His face lights up with panic as he’s forced forward, you hold your arms out, bracing yourself for the impact. “Shit, sorry!” cries Wyll. Astarion tries to grab onto your shoulder to steady himself but it’s not enough and he crashes into you anyway, pushing you down with him. The water, although shallow enough to comfortably stand in, is deep enough that lying flat isn’t really an option. You’re submerged in the water, the gasp you took as you fell, being the only air in your lungs. Your head hits the rocky ground with a muffled yelp. An arm curls around your waist, pulling you up for air. You inhale and cough.
“Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah, just bumped my head. But, I’m fine.” Moving your hand up to rub the injury, you’re surprised to touch a colder hand, already rubbing it better. You wipe the water from your eyes and open them to find a heavy breathing Astarion over you, scanning your face with fierce concern. You take in the sight of his worried, wide eyes: a change from his usual, steel-crafted mask. His fingers find the sore spot on your crown and massage it in circles. He’s doing it a little too hard and so you wince, but don’t stop him. It’s a strange sight, a strange experience to watch him do this. One you can’t quite pull your eyes away from.
“Oh, gods, Tav! Are you alright?! I’m so sorry!” Wyll rushes to your side. You flick your eyes to him and notice a new addition to his skin: peppered hickeys along his neck and collarbone. You can only assume what he and Lae’zel were up to before knocking you both over with such force. A badly stifled snort of laughter emerges from you, causing Astarion to look at Wyll in confusion, only to fall into the same trap and start laughing himself, but he doesn’t bother trying to hide it. Wyll follows your eyes and covers his neck with his hand, bashfully.
Lae’zel steps behind him, looking down at the little gathering impatiently before speaking. “Wyll. I don’t like waiting. And I wasn’t finished tasting you.” Her words inspire another intense, red blush on Wyll’s cheeks and a roar of laughter from you and Astarion.
You compose yourself enough to get some words out. “I’m fine, really. Don’t let me stop your… ‘Tasting’.”
As Wyll clears his throat, nods and shuffles away with Lae’zel, you return your attention to Astarion, still hovering over you and chuckling at them. Once you become a little too aware of his knee, sitting between your thighs, you decide it’s time to stand up. “I-um, I can probably get back up now.”
“Hm? Oh, of course.” He quickly retreats, his hand slips away from your scalp and you shiver at the gentle loss of contact. Now standing, he holds his hand out for you. You take it, sliding your palm into his and letting him hold your weight as you lift yourself out of the water.
As you emerge once again, he avoids gazing at your body, with effort. You giggle. “It’s alright, it’s not like Gale didn’t get an eye-full earlier.” His eyes narrow at the thought but turns it into a smirk. You grin right back and turn around, wringing out your hair, flipping it back and intentionally whipping him with it. He playfully scoffs. You turn your head, looking at him over your shoulder. You take the moment to subtly glide your gaze over his lean, toned body. Porcelain skin, gleaming in moonlight. Before you lose yourself in the sight, you look away.
In turning back to him and noticing that his eyes are nowhere near locked on yours, he reminds you that he’s not the only one exposed. You, too, are down to nothing but your underwear, and he seems to like it. For a moment, you consider covering yourself, but instead you choose to embrace it, resting your weight on one hip. “So, you, very rudely, interrupted our conversation and now you have my attention. What did you want?” He yanks his eyes away from your body and flicks them back to your face. He clears his throat and begins to speak but can’t find the words. He didn’t think that far ahead, he just knew he wanted you to look at him. 
“I was just trying to save you from whatever tedious trivia Gale was, no doubt, spewing.” He shrugs and smirks. You chuckle and shake your head. “It was a delightful conversation, actually. Thank you very much.”
“Ah, then by all means, my dear!” He gestures towards Gale, knowing you won’t turn back now.
You grin and walk towards the shore. “Actually, I think I should probably get out before I turn into a prune.”
He watches as you pass him, pondering whether or not to follow. You step on cold soil and reach for your towel, patting away the moisture on your body and scrunching your hair, encouraging the natural waves to bounce back. You turn back, towel now secured around your chest to observe the scene before you: Gale rinsing out his hair and making his way to shore, Astarion drying himself in the corner of your vision, Shadowheart making a pathetic attempt at a backstroke and Karlach hovering, coaching and cheering her on. Wyll and Lae’zel are nowhere to be seen.
Probably for the best…
You smile at the sight and make your way back to your tent, soaking in the scent of burnt wood from the remnants of the campfire. On the way, you spot Scratch, curled up by the entrance of Karlach’s tent, snoozing away. Ducking under your tent flap, you slip off your towel, undress and wrap yourself snugly in your bedroll.
Hesitant, shuffling footsteps approach, followed by a hesitant, warm voice. “Goodnight, Tav. I… I enjoyed talking to you tonight. Thank you… For listening.”
You smile. “Goodnight Gale, I enjoyed listening.” With a deep breath, he walks away and the flap of his tent is the last thing you hear before a new set of footsteps take his place.
These are stronger, bouncier, unashamed of the space they occupy. They stop outside your tent and for a moment, it’s silent. You’re tempted to poke your head out, but instead you wait…
“Sweet dreams, darling.”
“Sweet dreams, Astarion.”
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Previous Chapter
38 notes · View notes
ollypopwrites · 3 days
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From Depths Unknown ; Part 4
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Part 1 ⚜ Part 2 ⚜ Part 3 ⚜ Ao3
Rolan x F!Tav (AFAB, she/her) *Tav is a Storm Sorcerer, but no actual reference to her appearance.
Rating: E
Tags & Warnings: [18+ MDNI] Language, Canon-typical violence (discussion of injuries), Discussions of Death & the afterlife, background Bloodweave.
Chapter Summary:
Rolan pulled Tav back into him, face buried in her hair and his tail wrapped around her leg as many times as it could. Perhaps it was the weakness she still felt, but she leaned into him, and he could feel her stuttering breaths with her pressed against his chest. She was crying. His own eyes had been stinging since she looked over at him for the first time in two days, clenched shut every time he thought they might spill over. He was so grateful he could hardly find words. 
Notes: Fuck it lets update two days in a row. This series will end at Part 6, I've decided. Thanks for going on this journey with me so far.
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The last thing Tav remembered was pain.
The sun came up, and Lae’zel flew off astride a dragon into its bright glow. When she had faded away into the distance, Tav remembered staring at the spot where Karlach and Wyll had stepped through a portal to the hells. Someone had said something about the sun, and then the trail of deep gashes in her torso throbbed with mind numbing pain. Everything was blank after that. 
In the back of her mind in the fugue plane, she knew she was dead. It was nothingness, all senses and concepts slipped away. But her mind seemed to drift in a state of waiting for something to happen. What it was she could not remember. Flashes of faces were fuzzy, and the emotions they elicited were whispers. Time was unknowable, this state of absence could have been decades or seconds and Tav would not be able to tell the difference. 
Something pulled, tugging at the edges of whatever was left of her. 
First was amber colored warmth that seemed to seep into the center of the nebulous state of her, it beckoned: come back to me. She wanted to, letting the sensation fill her and start the spark of life. Tav felt her spirit be cupped in soft cooling hands, not diminishing the warmth, but an additional soothing touch, the color of silver wrapping around the amber glow.
 A sharp white shock of lightning spread through the shape of a body she forgot she had - a deep rumbling in her newly found chest, and the cool wash of rain on her face. They were separate entities, but she could not quite tell what or who they were. She trusted them, letting them pull her until  the combined efforts made the nebulous shapes she could see become clear. Faces. 
Rolan’s scarlet skin, freckles hiding under dirt and ash, with his dark hair slipping out of its neat tie at the back of his head. His eyes were wide, the yellow glow against the darkness of his sclera was a lovely sight. And Shadowheart, frowning with intense focus, her pretty green eyes bright and watery. Jaheira’s even stare was just over Shadowheart’s shoulder, and Halsin’s brow tipped in concern towering above both of the women. 
As if she was underwater, the familiar need to breach a surface and breathe overtook her. 
Her whole body had been a livewire of sensation when the air hit her lungs. Most of them were unpleasant: pain and nausea and exhaustion. Tav hardly comprehended what she said and saw, she just remembered being told she could finally rest and then everything went black again. 
Consciousness came to her slowly. But this was different than before. She was just waking up, like every other day in her life.
“Coming back from the dead, being suddenly tadpole free, the physical damage — these things are hard on the body on their own,” she heard a familiar rumbling voice. Halsin. “She’s been fully healed, but she needs rest.” 
“Are we certain there’s no lasting damage?” Another familiar voice. Deep, crisply accented and comforting despite the shortness of tone. Rolan. “That I didn’t… didn’t do the resurrection wrong?”
Her eyes opened. Above her was the canopy of an ostentatious four post bed, her eyes took in a painting of a celestial sky framed by gold filigrees. It smelled of magic, rosewater and sage, and something else — something familiar but unnameable. As her mind came to her, she felt the need to move her fingers,taking in the sensation of her touch on the soft fabric of velvet blankets. Beneath her body was a plush, comfortable, mattress. 
She ached. There was an absence in her psyche that at first was confusing — it was just her. No Emperor, no companions, no pounding resonation of the Elder Brain. 
“Tav?” 
Rolan’s face hovered over her. He looked as intense as ever, but it was softened by his eyes. Just as before, wide and comforting in their warmth. Her lips cracked, a slight sting accompanying the leisurely smile that took over her face. 
“Hi,” she whispered.
“Hello,” he smiled a little. 
“Is it over?” It’s all she could think to say, voice rough and dry.
“Yes,” he breathed. “Yes, you did it.” 
“What happened?”
“You —“ he swallowed, his smile dropping instantly. Whatever it was he couldn’t seem to say. 
“What can you remember?” Halsin asked, making look over to the foot of the bed where he stood. 
Tav wracked her brain. They were falling, they were in the water, they were on the dock. Lae’zel flew off on a red dragon, and named Tav liberator. Karlach’s heart almost gave out, but Wyll and her jumped into a portal before it could happen. Tav remembered frantically begging her to keep living, promising they would find a way to bring them back. Astarion… oh gods, Astarion. 
He didn’t have the tadpole. He was out in the sun. 
“Astarion — “ she asked Halsin, “is he okay?”
“He ran into the shadows,” Halsin said evenly, “wherever he is, Gale is with him.”
“But where are they?”
“We haven’t seen them,” Halsin’s brow furrowed. 
“Shadowheart?” Tav asked, eyes clenched shut. 
“Downstairs with the healers.” Rolan assured her.
Tav let out a shuddering breath. “And —“
“Jaheira and Minsc are helping to organize the rebuilding efforts,” Halsin informed her. “You gave us quite the scare,” he smiled a little at her. “You should have mentioned your wounds.”
That’s right. Throughout the adrenaline fueled panic to just keep everyone alive at the very end, Tav had forgotten an intellect devourer had nearly disemboweled her. She had taken quite a few hits besides that as well, shrugged off in the heat of battle. The onslaught of the Netherbrain’s psionic powers had made her brain feel like it would leak out of her ears. All in all, she had been truly fucked up by the end of it all.
“I died.”
Halsin nodded. 
Tav licked her lips, but her tongue was just as dry as her lips. Only a few of their party had to be resuscitated on the road. Withers was there for exactly that, and she never worried too much about it, saving all their resurrection scrolls for allies that Withers had deemed not necessary to maintain in the fight. Only their core group were tied to the ultimate fate, and after that was finished she imagined he had to maintain the balance of life and death. 
“I remember  something pulling me,” she closed her eyes. “Pulling me out of — water? No… it was nothing.”
“A resurrection scroll,” Rolan finally spoke. “I used a resurrection scroll to bring you back.” 
Tav looked over at him, wanting to ease the worry that creased his handsome face. “My hero.”
He closed his eyes, a smile twitching at his lips as he exhaled a breath that might have been a laugh. Her heart felt fit to burst.  “You’re an idiot.”
Tav sat up, a wave of dizziness overcoming her so she toppled to the side. Rolan had a hand on her shoulder, and an arm at her back. Nausea flooded her, and she took a deep breath. 
“It may take some time for you to get your bearings.” Halsin told her. “You were lost to us for quite some time, your body needs to adjust to the shifting states.”
“Not to mention the side effects from the tadpoles being removed,” Rolan added. “Shadowheart’s been struggling with headaches, and fatigue. You need to rest.”
“Can I see her?” 
“She will want to know you’re awake.” Halsin said with a nod and left the room. 
“Where are we? The tower?”
“Yes,” Rolan was trying to ease her down but she wanted to will herself to feel better. 
With a truly pathetic shove she managed to sling her legs over and out of the covers. Her feet slowly met the plush rug that covered the stone floor, and she stood. Well she tried to: she got up to her feet and then felt her legs give out. Rolan grunted as he grabbed her around the waist, tugging her against him to keep her from falling.
“Please, Tav, lay down,” he insisted. 
“I want to see the city,” she pleaded. 
There was an open door to the terrace right there, she could see the clear blue sky of an afternoon. Rolan folded with a sharp sigh and helped steady her as she took a step, then another, weakly and slowly but she was not going to be denied the chance to see it. 
At the railing of the terrace, she gripped it with weak hands, Rolan just behind her with an arm firmly wrapped around her waist. He wasn’t letting her get too close to the edge. The city was in a bad state, many buildings in the lower half were destroyed, and the upper city was near unrecognizable. The tower was tall, but she could see people below. Carrying lumber and stones, running back and forth with supplies, building and walking around. 
“We did it.” She breathed. “We did it.” 
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Rolan pulled Tav back into him, face buried in her hair and his tail wrapped around her leg as many times as it could. Perhaps it was the weakness she still felt, but she leaned into him, and he could feel her stuttering breaths with her pressed against his chest. She was crying. His own eyes had been stinging since she looked over at him for the first time in two days, clenched shut every time he thought they might spill over. 
He was so grateful he could hardly find words. 
“You should be laying down,” he ground out past the lump in his throat after a few moments. 
“Okay.” 
But neither of them moved. 
“Can we sit out here ? Just for a little bit?”
Rolan heaved a sigh, more for show than out of true irritation. He helped her maneuver into a chair, and she seemed grateful to be off of her feet. There was only one chair on the terrace, and Rolan found himself standing by it, ready to steady her if needed, afraid to wander too far. Tav took in the feeling of the sun, the sounds of the city below and took a few deep breaths. Rolan could only watch her. 
Her dead gaze had stuck with him, so he tried to replace it with the current view of her eyes scanning the city below. He had  found himself constantly checking that her chest had been moving with breaths while she rested, he was clinging to the proof she was alive and moving around now. Rolan’s tail wrapped around her ankle again, and she leaned over to look at it with a small laugh.
“What are you two lovebirds up to?” 
The new voice had him jumping out of his skin in shock. As if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t, his face flushed a deeper red, his tail unraveling from its grip. 
Shadowheart was in the doorway, a bright grin betraying her teasing tone. “Five months on the road,” she said to Tav, “and you die on me at the last second.”
“Gotta keep you on your toes,” Tav replied. 
“Apology accepted,” Shadowheart rolled her eyes. 
This was a far different reaction to when Tav had been brought into the tower. The reality of the situation was made clear by the true panic in the cleric’s normally calm and detached demeanor. They looked at each other for a moment as if in some silent conversation. After a while Tav ducked her head. 
“Feels strange, not having you bouncing around in my brain,” she said. 
“It’s both a relief and… a loss, somehow. I never thought I’d miss anything about the tadpoles.”
“Guess we just have to talk to each other like normal people, eh?”
Rolan felt he was intruding and went back into the bedroom, taking a moment to recollect himself. Halsin was there, a nod of understanding offered in his direction. Neither of them truly knew the experience of sharing a consciousness, not in that way. It seemed to be something that Gale, Karlach, Wyll, Astarion, Shadowheart, Lae’zel and Tav would always have to bind them.
“Jaheira tells me you’ll be relocating some of the orphaned children near Reithwin,” Rolan cleared his throat. 
“It’s a peaceful place now that the curse has been lifted, and there’s plenty of space for them to grow,” he nodded. “As the Grove was for you, I hope to build a place of refuge for anyone who wishes to leave the city.”
“Whatever you may need for the journey, you need only ask.” 
Halsin thanked him with a nod. “It suits you, this position. Archmage of Baldur’s Gate ,” he smiled a little, “the title should go to someone who has overcome adversity. Someone who knows the value of what he has.”
Rolan was not so certain. “I’m not an archmage yet,” he said. “I still have much to learn.” 
“As you say,” Halsin smiled. 
Rolan looked over his shoulder, out at the terrace where Shadowheart and Tav were still deep in conversation. Rolan knew that whatever they were discussing, was meant for them alone to hear. “The tower has an impressive greenhouse, but I’d like to get an expert's opinion on how to improve it.”
Halsin smiled tiredly, all at once looking like a man who had lived centuries. “Any glimpse of nature  you have to offer would be quite the solace to me.”
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“So Selune did hear me,” Shadowheart said quietly, eyes averted. “I had no magic left. I had revivify prepared for this reason but — “ she shook her head. “I prayed she would give me some way to save you.”
“Her and something else certainly heard you,” Tav leaned back. “I almost… don’t know what to do now.” 
“You aren’t doing anything,” Shadowheart admonished. “At least another day or two of rest, then you can think about the future.”
“You’re rested,” Tav smiled. “What will you do?”
“Help around here for a bit longer,” Shadowheart looked over the city. “After that, maybe follow Halsin. He wants to head back towards the mountain pass, taking some refugees with him, I could settle there or… explore.”
“Exploring suits you,”  Tav smiled, “selfishly, I’d wish you wouldn’t go far but… my little Selunite has to spread her wings.”
After a while the afternoon shifted into night, and the two of them sent a quiet prayer of thanks to Selune as the moon rose into the sky. Tav had never been the religious type and their journey had only solidified her resolve to respect the gods from afar. The entire mess of the Absolute had been designed for The Dead Three, Mystra’s involvement had not quite inspired awe in her given that it required one of her best friends killing himself, and everything with Shar spoke for itself. But she appreciated Selune’s more distant approach to aiding them; it certainly had caused them less strife.
Arm looped in Shadowheart’s for sake of steadiness (Tav had an inkling her friend was feeling affectionate but would not admit it) Tav had met with the small group gathered for dinner. Cal barely maintained his composure while he gave her a gentle hug, Lia lingered a little in her arms, while Halsin smiled on. Rolan was hovering nearby, and looked ready to scold his siblings. 
“Don’t crowd her,” he insisted. 
“I don’t mind,” she smiled, patting Lia on the back of the head. “It’s been a rough journey to get here, yeah?” She looked at the tiefling in her embrace who was a bit misty eyed. “But we’re fine! And I’m starving. Being dead works up quite the appetite.”
Everyone but Rolan seemed to find the joke at least a little funny, but she was used to him looking bothered by her. She was happy to see his eye twitch in the face of her jokes. Despite her appetite, after filling her stomach and drinking nearly an entire pitcher of water to herself she was quite sleepy. But there was some business she had to see to. 
“Has anyone looked for Gale and Astarion?”
“There’s been a lot of healing work to do,” Shadowheart said, “wherever they are I’m sure they’re fine.”
“I’d like to see it for myself,” Tav said seriously. “They’re the only ones left, Shadowheart, I want to know they’re okay.”
Shadowheart shook her head a little. “I can start a search party, but I wouldn’t know where to start.”
Tav didn’t like this answer. “If it were us —“
“No,” Shadowheart cut her off. “You died. It was just me, Halsin, Jaheira and Minsc. They know there’s only so many places we could be — and they still haven’t turned up.”
It hurt to hear it said out loud. Tav was trying not to be selfish, but Shadowheart was right. It did feel a bit like the two had abandoned them. At least Karlach, Wyll and Lae’zel had an excuse for leaving moments after their victory. The sun went down every night, Astarion and Gale could have made their way back days ago. 
Shadowheart specifically must have felt slighted. The late arrival of Halsin, Jaheira and Minsc did not make them any less a part of the team but Astarion and Gale were the first they had met after the nautiloid crash. The four of them had been together since day one of the nightmare. For them to just go missing on her when she needed them most had to sting. 
Aware of the tension in the room, Tav offered a tired smile, not wanting to drag the conversation out any longer. “Alright.”
“That’s it? That’s all you have to say?” Shadowheart frowned. 
“I’m not in charge anymore,” Tav sighed as she rubbed at her eyes, “and I’m too tired to argue right now. When I’m all rested, I’ll figure something out.”
For a minute, it looked like Shadowheart was trying to concentrate on something, brow furrowing with the attempt. And then blinked a few times as if she caught herself. 
“There’s no more tadpoles, Shadowheart,” Tav found herself laughing a bit, “can’t poke around in each other's heads anymore.”
“I know — I forgot,” she shook her head. 
“I think,” Halsin said, “it’s time for you to rest, Tav. You’re still —“
“Recovering, yeah, I know.” She stood up from the table. 
A loud scraping sound happened the moment she got to her feet as Rolan rose from his chair suddenly, nearly knocking it over. “I’ll walk you.”
“Thank you.” Tav said with raised eyebrows, seeing Lia cover her face and Cal grin out of the corner of her eye. “Goodnight, everyone.”
Rolan did not ask, but simply placed her arm in the crook of his elbow as he led her out. The tower was big, and as the halls went on she was more and more looking forward to laying down in a bed. Her strength felt sapped still, her legs a bit wobbly after sitting for so long. The food in her stomach satiated her, but it brought with it the desire to close her eyes. 
“I can’t wait to feel normal again,” she said. 
“No need to rush,” he replied. 
“There’s a lot to do,” Tav insisted. “And I’m useless.”
“Gods forbid the Savior of the Gate stop for once.”
“That title has a nice ring to it, when did you come up with that?”
“I didn’t,” he smiled, “it’s what everyone is calling you and your friends. The Saviors of the Gate.”
“Oh.”
They certainly had received a lot of thanks and praises over the last few months. For everyone in such a big city to know her name, to be discussing the journey she and her friends had been on was odd. She was not quite sure how she felt about being so… known. 
As he led her into the same room she had woken in, she slid onto the bed with a groan. She shuffled until she was under the covers, taking deep contented breaths as she buried her face in the pillows. This bed was more heavenly than even her own back home, and she was so grateful for it.
“Are all the beds in the tower this comfy?”
“Knowing Lorroakan, he probably saved the best for himself,” Rolan said.
“That must be your new bed,” Tav turned over to look at him. “Is it heaven? Just a big magical cloud of relaxation?”
“Erm,” Rolan shifted on his feet. “It is, yes, but —“ he cleared his throat, “but you’ll have to tell me. You’ve been sleeping in it.”
Tav was confused. “This is your bed?”
“It is.”
“You gave up your bed for me?” Tav asked, “why?”
Rolan stood somewhat awkwardly, hands at his sides. “I wanted you to be comfortable.”
“That’s sweet,” Tav smiled. “Are you sure you’re not a doppleganger? Did some straggling Bhaalists get to you?”
He eased up at the teasing, looking more comfortable. “I’ll remember not to show you any consideration in the future. Such a lack of gratitude.” He was smiling. 
“You’re one to talk about lacking gratitude,” she smiled back, eyes closed now. She was so tired. “I can never win with you.”
“And yet here you are in my bed, while I toss and turn in a guest room.”
“Poor Rolan,” she replied. “So very put out by his little hero.”
“Indeed.”
He was shutting off again, she could tell by the closed tone. “I am sorry,” she replied, eyes opening, “I honestly do feel like I’ve put everyone out.”
“You saved the city,” he looked befuddled. “You died saving it.”
“Could have done better,” she muttered. Her thoughts going to Karlach and Wyll, and to Astarion now confined to the shadows. 
“We both know that’s far from the truth,” he said softly. “I — I thought it wouldn’t work — the resurrection.”
“I worried you.” 
Part of her knew in the back of her mind that was true, but he was such a hard puzzle to figure out. Sometimes she was sure he thought of her the same way she did of him. But he always was at arms length, never giving more than a hint and then closing off immediately after. ‘You’ll come back to me,’ he had told her in the high hall. As if she was his. 
“Worried,” he repeated, a half laugh in amazement. “Yes, I would rather say you did.”
“Sorry.” 
“Stop apologizing, go to sleep,” he insisted. 
“Will you stay? Just for a little bit?”
The thought of being left alone was overwhelming, she had not spent a night alone in months. Rolan searched her face for a moment, then sat on the bed, turned towards her. For a moment he looked unsure what to do with his hands, before deciding to fold them in his lap, his tail flicking gently behind him on the covers. Thanking him quietly, she let herself drift off, eyes closed so she couldn’t see his unwavering gaze on her. 
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Tav was bouncing back quickly, he was pleased to see. She had gone from only being able to draft a letter to her mother before needing to lay down for the rest of the day to walking around the upper levels of the tower on her own.  But she was starting to get restless after a day or two. Now that she could stand on her own two feet without someone’s support, she was hard to contain. She had been blocked off from the bottom floor of the tower, since no one trusted her not to get roped into some rebuilding effort before she was ready. 
Rolan was busier than ever. He only had a handful of staff to assist him, and all of them were running around the city to help the recovery efforts. Despite the circumstances and the less than gentle way Jaheira had put it, Rolan realized quickly she had been right about taking on the duty of the city’s Archmage. The tower was a central point in the city, the main source of magical wares and a trove of information.
Rolan didn’t want it to be a museum, he wanted it to be a resource. 
At the end of the day, he would dine with Tav, his siblings and Shadowheart. Halsin joined them every once in a while, but he had given his word to assess just how many orphans were running unattended in the ruined city streets. He was also the only one Yenna would come out of the Elfsong suite for, and he had to make sure she was looked after and fed. After dinner and a healthy amount of wine amongst the small group, Tav had asked him if he had anything that could help get her to the hells. 
Alarm bells rang off in his mind. “We can look into it.” He offered as diplomatically as he knew how. 
“Her engine won’t last here,” Shadowheart reminded Tav. 
There was a stubborn look on Tav’s face, and she replied. “I just want to look into it.”
That night Rolan poured over the library with her.There were portals, an easy enough thing to figure out, but Tav wanted a solution for Karlach’s engine. Infernal engineering was hardly his expertise, and Dammon was up to his horns in work. Rolan also already knew that the blacksmith had exhausted his knowledge to make it so Karlach could touch people once more, making the engine stable in the material plane was, as far as he knew, not possible. 
“I don’t understand any of this,” Tav muttered. 
“Your many talents don’t include infernal engineering?”
“Not yet,” she arched a brow at the book in her hands. 
“Perhaps after things settle down,” Rolan offered, “Dammon could look further into it.” 
It was a poor attempt to make her let it go, even temporarily. And she saw straight through it. 
“You’re trying to placate me,” she narrowed her eyes at him. “You don’t think I can do it.”
“What I think you're capable of is irrelevant. You are not a smithy of any kind, and have no firsthand knowledge of the hells let alone the machinery built specifically to withstand its atmosphere,” Rolan said evenly. “I understand the pressure you feel, but you’re one person —“
“No, you don’t understand,” she snapped. “I wasn’t just one person, I was seven. You don’t know what it’s like to feel someone else’s fear as if it were your own, their sadness and joy — to experience their darkest memories, as if you’ve lived them yourself. They trusted me, they looked to me to keep them safe, to keep us on the right path — “ she stopped to take a deep breath, eyes closing as a shaky exhale forced its way out and gave away how affected she was. “Karlach and Wyll should be here.”
Rolan felt the sting of her words deeper than he wanted to admit. An ugly jealousy reared its head; all but one of the six had left her and he was right there and that still wasn’t enough. He never seemed to be up to the task. The urge to lash out was strong; helpless against the scratching in his chest he felt himself get angry. 
“I’ll leave you to your research,” he said shortly. 
The silence was only filled by his footsteps on the tile floor as he made his way out. He passed Shadowheart in the hall as she made her way to her room for the night, offering only a curt nod in her direction as he picked up his pace to avoid conversation. His temper was quickly slipping, and he was sure he’d snap at the next person who would make eye contact with him. He made it to his borrowed room and slammed the door shut behind him. His tail flicked back and forth in sharp, angry movements, hitting the wood of the door with heavy thumps. He needed a distraction. 
Rolan sat at the desk in the small guest room which he had taken to since insisting Tav take the master suite. He grabbed his spell book, dug into the desk drawer for a quill and some ink and opened to his most recent page. Unfinished notes about a telekinesis spell, something he wanted to try to modify to control the trajectory of an object rather than just send it flying backwards. 
A thin chain was nestled in the gutter of the book, carefully attached to his ribbon place marker. The dangling pearl hung over the edge. When she had asked him to keep it safe he knew it needed to be with the one thing he always had with him, and took the greatest care of. His finger ran over the pearl and he winced. 
Gods, I’m a fool, he thought as he flipped to another page. 
Despite the fact that the very mention of her group had sent him into a jealous fervor, and that he was really rather irritated with her, he knew immediately what might cheer her up. And he was not going to stop the impulse to do it. He never did. It felt like insanity. He tried and tried to be exactly what he thought she wanted and never felt it was enough. Time and time again, he went against every instinct of self-preservation he had clung to so desperately his entire life to try and let himself fall further for her. 
Rolan carefully read his notes, going over the incantation, double checking his components, and practicing the hand movements. Once he was more confident he knew what to do, he cast Sending for the first time in his life, thinking hard on the recipient. The rush of the weave molding to his whim sparked the usual comfort, this time punctuated by the hum of the spell awaiting his message. 
“Gale, it’s Rolan. Where the bloody hells have you two been? We are awaiting your hasty return. Tav and Shadowheart are currently at the tower.”
He let some of his irritation bleed into the message. If anyone deserved a bit of his ire, it was those two. Then he waited. The hum of the spell still resonated in his mind as the connection stayed and awaited the reply. 
“Ah, Sending! Clever.” Gale’s downright chipper voice broke through. “Astarion and I were simply working on a solution to — ow! My love, please, I only have twenty-five words! Now, Rolan we —“
The spell cut out, Gale having used a good chunk of his limited verbiage to scold Astarion. Rolan felt a throb in his temple, and rubbed at it. Gale was thus far the most admirable and well-learned wizard he knew. He respected the man more than he could say, but even he was prone to making Rolan question the sanity of Tav’s entire operation. To think the world had been in their hands, only they were truly crazy enough to pull it off, he believed. At the very least he could assure Tav the two were alive and well. 
A gentle humming of weave wrapped around him, and in his ear as if the man was right in front of him, Rolan heard Gale’s voice. 
“Apologies! Astarion and I will make our way to the tower shortly, we have much to discuss. Expect us tomorrow! How are Tav and Shadowheart?”
Rolan clenched his teeth, and spoke out loud. “They’re both safe now, no thanks to you. Forewarning, neither are pleased with you two. You’d better come up with a good excuse. Good evening.”
There was not another message. Rolan felt a sense of satisfaction in letting them sweat in the knowledge that their friends were waiting on them. It had been hard to see Shadowheart struggle with being the last of the original six on her feet, and the two had been one of the first things Tav had asked about when she finally awoke. 
It had been nearly a week with no word. He was certain Tav would not have been so harsh with him earlier were her friends there with her. The ache of jealousy still settled in his chest, he wanted nothing more than to go back to the study and be near her but pride was preventing him from walking out of the door. 
He went back to his spell book, ready to make more notes on the new discoveries from the sending spell and finish working on his telekinesis alterations. Whenever he paused to think or stopped to read over his notes, his thumb  gently rubbed over the pearl still dangling there.
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Tav felt horrible about what she said. After Rolan left her alone in the study, she tried to read more about infernal steelwork through tear blurred eyes. Another thing to add to her pile of failures, festering in the pool of guilt that seemed permanently settled in her stomach. 
Immediately she wanted to apologize. Her temper could be quick but she knew when she was wrong. Tav went to the door, looking out into the hallway, but it was empty. She had no idea what room he was staying in, since he insisted she kept using his for the time being. Unable to do anything else, she went back to the book she had found and read it until her eyes ached. 
The next day Rolan was not at breakfast. Everyone had stopped their hovering, after a few days of rest and recovery from the battle and her return from death, Tav felt almost entirely back to her old self. When she came down into the shop section of the tower for the first time, she was surprised to see it set up as a sort of healing center. Shadowheart informed her that compared to the night after battle the place was much less crowded. 
 Shadowheart joined as Jaheira walked Tav through the city, discussing the rebuilding efforts. As before the attack, the upper city was closed off, the efforts to salvage the destroyed streets had apparently been well underway before anyone official besides Florrick paid attention to the lower city. 
A good chunk of the patriars and nobles had been murdered at Gortash’s coronation. Their heirs were all banded together to be the new saviors of the city, buying first the love of the richest by repairing their streets first. It was clear that the new favorites in the lower city were the Harper’s, Florick and even the new master of Ramazith’s Tower. 
She was told of his efforts to keep open the doors of his home as a refuge, and even some stories of him running around the morning after the battle to help wherever he could. Pride welled up in her, even if he was not speaking to her currently, she was so pleased to hear him praised that she could hardly keep from smiling. 
Despite Shadowheart’s hesitance, Tav volunteered to immediately start getting to work. It felt good to do something besides force herself to walk around the tower until she got too tired to continue. Shadowheart had taken on a lot while Tav was recovering, including informing a grieved Duke Ravenguard about the whereabouts of his son. Tav felt the need to make up for it. 
Outside of the shop in the square, Tav decided to try using some magic to fix up a broken wall. Stoneshape was a hard spell, but it felt good to use her magic. Once the exhaustion wore off it bubbled inside of her, crackling to be used, or to find a way out of her. On the road the tadpole often kept it under better control than she ever had alone and it had countless opportunities to lash out given all the fighting they had done. 
Gale had always been kind about it, but he mentioned more than once a bit of wizarding education to keep it under control would not hurt. She knew better than anyone he was right. Even with his help she still felt it crack and pull at her when she was particularly upset. 
The only thing that ever controlled it was to exhaust it. Use it all up until there was only the vague hum beneath her veins. She had gotten used to using pointless little spells in her everyday life to satiate its crackling need to fly out of her. Stone shaping buildings back together was a quite useful thing, she thought, given how deeply she was feeling guilt. 
An earth myrmidon came up next to her, its faceless head turned to help her with her task. She looked over her shoulder, trying to find its summoner. Her eyes caught black and amber, Rolan standing not too far off, but he quickly looked away. She kept watching, more of his summoned elementals were clearing rubble, an animated set of armor carrying new building materials to groups of people hammering away. All under his focused gaze as he waved his hands and used his magic to clean up her mess. 
Unable to stop herself, she came over to inspect his work. Arms crossed over her chest in a show of consideration as she tilted her head. 
“Master Rolan, you are making quite a name for yourself in this city,” she teased lightly. “How charitable, and generally decent of you to offer your services in this trying time.”
“How benevolent of you to notice,” he replied dryly. “Quite the compliment from the Savior of the Gate. I’ve been rather busy while you’ve been lazing away in the tower.”
“Well, I can’t be outdone,” she smiled. “I have a reputation as a hero, you know.”
“I do know,” Rolan’s lip twitched, fighting a smile. “All too well.”
“Rolan —“
“Astarion! What the hells are you doing?” 
Tav turned quickly at Shadowheart’s panicked voice. There in the street was Astarion, next to a grinning Gale, in broad daylight. Her heart nearly stopped at the sight and she was running towards them, Shadowheart having the same idea. There had to be something she could cast, something to block him from the sun, but her mind was coming up short. 
But as she approached, he wasn’t burning. There was no ashen haze over his face, his eyes were bright and… blue. 
“Don’t make a scene, darling,” Astarion said, but he seemed very nearly bashful. 
In fact, a soft pink blush was rising on his cheeks. His skin, though still pale, had a  glow to it. She’d grown so used to the marble like pallor of his skin, the undertones of pink made her feel like she was looking at a stranger. 
“You’re — how?”
“True resurrection!” Gale supplied gleefully at his side. “One of the only known cures for vampirism.” 
“How in the hells did you manage that?” Shadowheart was looking wide eyed at Astarion, while Tav touched his warm cheek. 
“Due to the nature of the orb, I acquired a scroll very early on in my isolation,” Gale explained, animated as ever. “As I pose no risk to any surrounding cities any longer, I found a much better use for it.”
“I’ve been so worried about you two,” Tav frowned. 
“You had a resurrection scroll this entire time?” Shadowheart snapped. 
“Well, yes —“ Gale’s mouth shut tight at Shadowheart’s blazing gaze. He looked to Tav confusedly. 
“I had some pretty bad wounds —“
“She died.” Shadowheart cut her off. “Bled out right on the dock after you two ran off, and I had no magic left. If Rolan hadn’t had a scroll at the tower —“
“But he did,” Tav interrupted, at the stricken look on Gale’s face. “It's okay, I’m fine.”
“It’s my fault,” Astarion said, a frown on his face as he refused to meet their eyes. Since he was not usually one to come close to apologizing, it made both Shadowheart and Tav give their full attention.  “I was… well, I thought I lost my time in the sun.” 
“Even if I didn’t come back,” Tav said, “I couldn't be angry at you for this.” She sniffled a little, “welcome back to mortality. You don’t look a day over 200.”
“Stop, you’ll make me blush,” Astarion preened. “Which is still the oddest sensation, all that warmth.” He touched his face.
“Given how long you two were gone I imagine you’ve rediscovered just how warm you can get,” Tav teased. 
“I’m so sorry,” Gale said, wincing. “I’d assumed we were all in the clear.”
There was a silence and Astarion’s new eyes looked to Tav and then Shadowheart. “It’s really just us now, isn’t it?”
“For now,” Tav smiled sadly. “Quiet, isn’t it?”
“Odd. And… well, I won’t say I miss you all in the back of my mind but,” he frowned a little, “it was something, wasn’t it?”
She didn’t need the tadpole to know they all understood. Tav yanked Astarion into a hug, but it took a few moments for him to return the gesture. She flailed her hand around to find Gale’s sleeve and pulled him in too. Shadowheart looked like she was going to stubbornly ignore Gale’s outstretched arm but Astarion rolled his eyes. 
“If we are doing group hugs you can’t make me endure it alone,” he said to her. 
Shadowheart gave in, and no one mentioned the tears rolling down her cheek. Astarion’s heartbeat was in her ear, Gale’s hair tickled her face, and Shadowheart was smashed against her side with a desperate grip on her shirt. The fact they were all in each other’s head had made their time together intimate regardless of whether they wanted it to be or not. In the absence of it, Tav was ready to claim whatever closeness to them she could. 
“Can we get a victory drink now?”
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There had been a small celebration at the Elfsong after the emotional reunion in the square. Rolan gave them their space. On the outside of her life, as he always seemed to be. A bittersweet contentment was living in his chest, to see her so happy and feeling that he had no place in her celebration. 
But he was not going to be the one who brought down the mood of the evening. He, afterall, had much to be grateful for as he spent the night drinking with his siblings, Alfira and Lakrissa. Some of the others from the caravan had even come out. By the end of the night, he made sure the very drunk heroes made it up to their suite and returned to the tower. 
Now that she was settled in with her friends, he had his bedroom back. When he laid down, his pillows still smelled of her. He loved it. He loved her. For so many days he had avoided calling it what it was, even in his own mind. He would admit to himself that she was as dear to him as his siblings, he would admit that he wanted her - sometimes so badly it felt like he was being burned alive, but calling it love seemed to be a nail in a coffin. 
Because Tav obviously wanted him in some way. She trusted him with her most prized possession, she asked him on a date before running off to save the world, and she was always looking for ways to bother him. But be it an Elderbrain, death itself, or some slip of the tongue that nearly started an argument it never seemed to come to anything. 
Rolan drifted off to sleep that night trying to figure out why. 
In the morning, he busied himself in the tower. There was still so much to do, and he had spent most of the past week running around the city. Eventually, the Sorcerer’s Sundries would have to reopen, and he had a lot to change around the upper levels of the tower. It saved his pride to be away from questions about Tav, and it was a temporary distraction. 
“There you are,” Cal came up sheepishly. “I know you said not to bother you — “
“And yet here you are.”
“There’s a lady down stairs,” Cal began. “She won’t go away, and she keeps asking for Tav.”
“You can tell her that the Saviors of Baldur's gate aren’t at the beck and call of any civilian who fancies meeting them,” Rolan grumbled, “and the Master of Ramazith’s Tower is not their secretary.”
“Rolan,” Cal called for his attention seriously. “She says she’s Tav’s mother.”
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Thank you for reading!
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villainofmyownstory · 4 hours
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Day Zero
chapter 2
masterlist
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pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plus size fem!reader
summary: Ghost doesn't know what to do. He looks for Riley everywhere, with no results. He slowly loses his mind and does something he hasn't done for a long time… You wonder who and where Riley has been with all these years. How he found you? Why is he wearing that weird vest? And above all, where is the person who put it on him?
tags: AFAB reader, plus size reader, dog german shepherd, alcohol, weapon
author's note: I didn't expect so many comments, likes… everything… Thank you for this, it motivates me a lot.
Unfortunately, what everyone probably expects doesn't happen in this chapter… or maybe it does?^^
I plan to add new chapter once a week. However, I have more free time this week, so I will add the next part in a few days.
Chapter 2: The one with(out) Riley
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Day 730
You & Riley
It had to be Riley.
Of all the things you dreamed of all those lonely nights. About family, friends. Everything you've been longing for. You missed him the most. For your beloved dog. I t wasn't like the other family members were important to you. You just knew and pretty quickly came to terms with the thought that you wouldn't see them again.
It was difficult, hard. However, the realization of the unpleasant truth and mourning in such strange and new lonely conditions passed. The loss of the dog was unexpected and sudden. And knowing from day one that many animals somehow survived. Somewhere deep in your heart you felt that Riley was just there. And eventually, one way or another, you will be together again. But you thought it would happen after you died.
Not now. And not like that.
The dog was so happy to see you that he jumped at you with his front paws, trying to put them on your shoulders, but he was so excited and exhausted that he hit you with full force, pushing you. You hit the ground with a loud thud, crushed by the mass of the dog who was now licking every inch of your body, clothed or not. It didn't matter to him at all.
"Oh my god Riley...stop it, oh fuck" as you try to get out of the weight you don't know if you're in pain or if you're happy or shocked.
You're going through a million emotions. Many thoughts are running through your head. You have so many questions. So much confusion.
"Riley, man, calm down... I know, I know..."
You're trying to say something and at the same time get rid of the dog that has gained a lot of weight after these two years. Not only was he handsome, but he looked like a decent dog. Adult, mature. After many attempts, you finally manage to sit down, the dog seems to let go for a moment, panting loudly and sticking out his tongue. You look at each other as if each of you wanted to express and tell you everything that happened and what you felt during these months of separation.
Riley still had that incredible wisdom in his eyes, something that made him seem so human. This was one of the features that made him easy to recognize. The second thing was the fact that, unfortunately, before he came to you, when he was a puppy he lost part of his left ear. That's why as soon as you saw an animal running towards you, in a split second you knew it was him.
It was something so incredible, even impossible.
And you remember your mother's words the day the puppy showed up at the door of your family home 
"Fucking miracle"
Scratching Riley's ear, you shook your head in amusement and whispered, barely audible
"Yes Mommy, you were right… as always. He's a miracle."
Now you were just curious about the person who had kept Riley alive for so long and kept him in such great shape.
Slowly standing up, brushing off the dust from your clothes and wiping your cheeks, which were wet with dog saliva. You looked around the area, not seeing another living creature.
“Riley, who did you come with? Where is this person?”
You asked the companion next to you, grabbing your backpack and slowly walking in the direction the dog came from. However, the wounds on your feet from the long walk were so painful that you had to give up after walking a few steps.
“So, I guess we'll have to wait here for this mysterious Ghost?”
Walking towards a small building that was probably an energy building. Hoping that there will be a working power supply with electricity inside. which the tower still works and sends a signal, from time to time you looked with a smile at the dog which was glued to your leg and was following along with you.
For the first time in a long time, you smiled.
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Day 731
You & Riley
Nothing, silence, emptiness.
As if the arrival of the dog didn't change much. And it changed practically everything. The world took on new colors for you, you felt that it was a signal, a sign. Whatever. Something refreshing that restored meaning to your life after such hopeless and miserable, long and lonely months.
And somewhere deep inside you believed that someone would eventually show up. And after many hours of sitting in a dingy little building next to the tower, you lose hope again. Maybe Riley's arrival was everything you deserved in this new life.
When trying to get more comfortable on a concrete floor, you need to be careful with your dog. With every movement you make, even the smallest one, Riley raises his head and looks at you. He gets closer if you move your body away from his just the slightest. As if he was afraid that you would disappear from his sight again.
The night and half of the day passed. No one came at noon.
Like the mysterious Ghost, sleep never came.
“Darling, I'm so tired... everything hurts,” you say quietly, stroking the animal's fur with your hand.
 “Riley, I think we should wait a little longer, maybe one more day?” You look towards your backpack. Unfortunately, all the supplies you had packed were slowly running out. Your water supply would last for another day. Maybe if you saved more for the next two days. You had food for two or three days. However, you didn't expect before that you would have to count all the food and water for two.
It wasn't a problem. At all.
“Oh boy… you don't know how glad I am that you're here with me,” you muttered, placing your hand on the dog's body, finally falling asleep.
And the last thought was that in two years you haven't said as many words as today.
And it wasn't a problem. At all.
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Day 730
Ghost
Ghost felt like he was slowly losing his mind. That he's about to go crazy. Since all this happened, this whole cataclysm, the apocalypse. The end of the world... Everyone could call it whatever they wanted. That damn Day Zero. The man was able to organize himself in all this chaos, pursue his goals, plan and live. From day one, everything made sense, meaning, some direction for him.
Planning, patterns, predictability. Sticking to the schedule, drill.
His years in the army prepared him for this. It was in his blood.
So now that there had been no sign of Riley for over 24 hours, the only living being for whom he got up and went to sleep every day, it all made no sense. His life had no meaning.
Yesterday when he left the fucking house with a pillow in his hand that he took for the dog. In terror, he ran around the area shouting the dog's name, hoping that it would appear soon. Ghost was under the illusion that Riley would run around  the corner with some prey in his mouth. Wagging his tail happily.
Nothing like that happened.
Ghost, in his madness, destroyed several objects he encountered on his way. Screaming loudly and cursing. This couldn't be true. Something bad must have happened. The dog had been clinging to Ghost continuously for 2 years. Even when he taught him to hunt or search in new unknown locations, the dog was able to return to the man.
Why wasn't he there now?
Ghost finally went home after many hours of frantic searching. All the time he was wondering what else he should do to make his friend come back to him.
When he finally reached a safe place and parked the car, he looked around the area, hoping Riley had found his way home, and stuck his tongue out, wagging his tail. That the dog would be sitting outside the house, waiting for Ghost.
Unfortunately, to the man's horror, there was no sign of any presence.
Ghost felt under his skin that if he was left alone, he would lose ground. And his entire planned, arranged life will collapse day by day like a house of cards.
The house seemed unusually quiet and empty. Even though every space, every corner, cabinet, shelf and floor was filled with objects that the man had collected for two years. Supplies, clothes, items needed for survival. He was proud of how easily and quickly he adapted to the new challenge. How he was able to find himself alone, without other people.
This was another difficult and important mission for him.
I'm sitting in a chair at a large oak desk. He converted the room into an office where he kept maps, important documents and books. Ghost leaned back in the leather chair and closed his eyes.
He was afraid of this moment. Yes, he expected that one day he would be alone again. That he would have to say goodbye to his best companion. However, a German Shepherd should live up to 13 years. Maybe Riley would have lived another year or two in good health. Ghost was ready for this terrible situation. But that was to happen in the future. Someday, when they're both ready. In many years. In at least 9-10 years. That was the plan. That was the assumption.
And now Ghost was staring at the blank white ceiling, feeling like his world had collapsed once again.
The first was the death of his family.
The second time was when his teammate died.
Third… no, no, no. This couldn't happen again.
"No!" the man growled loudly, getting up from his chair and hurrying towards the room that was now the large pantry.
He must have had something strong to drink. Bloody hell. He had to drink that fucking brandy.
It's been a long 730 days since Ghost last dipped his lips in alcohol. Two years of sobriety.
And a drunk lieutenant meant something very dangerous. 
Pure madness. 
If someone showed up at Ghost's door now. The person should step back and leave without hesitation. And never come back. For your own safety. Your pathetic life.
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Day 732
Walking towards the city in the morning, with your dog by your side, you felt as if the world smiled at you and let you go back to your happy years. When you were younger and Riley was just a few months old puppy. This is exactly what your mornings looked like. You were walking along quiet streets somewhere on the outskirts of your city, enjoying the new, sunny day. You usually went to your favorite cafe and bakery, then went to the park with your dog. Lazy, ordinary mornings.
Unfortunately, now despite the idyllic landscape, peace and quiet, greening grasses and trees. Nothing else here was like back then.
Silence, deserted, ruined buildings.
Even though the world changed completely that day, the city looked remarkably good and clean, the main roads were passable, cars and other things on the road had been moved so that one lane was empty. You decided to go to the center and plan further walking there.
You entered several buildings and checked several vehicles.
Weird. All the more important and necessary things you could find in these places are gone. Medicines, canned goods. Batteries, clothes, shoes. The fuel from the car was drained, batteries, light bulbs and other things from the engine were removed.
The city looked like someone had definitely lived there after Day Zero. For a long time.
However, after a few hours of walking around empty streets, you decided to enter the last building where you expected to find at least a few drops of water. Even fermented, rotten food. Whatever.
“Riley, come on, one more place and we're going back to the tower, maybe Ghost will show up tomorrow?”
you lightly pulled the dog's leash. The dog was still sitting on its hind legs, looking in the opposite direction from which you had come.
You didn't have time to react.
Focused on the dog, you leaned down to give him the command again to finally move.
You didn't have time to do anything else.
Shot.
And the whistle of the bullet.
That's all you heard...
You didn't have time to do anything else.
taglist: @leviathanleva @chocolate-noodles
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fairytail-whathesays · 6 months
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it's not the most well-written or popular of arcs, but I want to know, what were some of your favorite things about the Alvarez arc?
When it ended.
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yuridovewing · 10 months
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I should make a list of wc super editions that i straight up don’t consider canon. like “no this did not happen to those characters growing up, stop lying”. Mostly Yellowfang’s Secret. Everything about Yellowfang’s Secret. I think we should all collectively look at Yellowfang’s Secret and go “None of that happened, not the family tree stuff, none of it.” and walk away
#tbh everyone being cruel to bluestar in her se while unpleasant to read about. it at least serves as a good explanation#for her behavior in the second half of tpb#i mean its not really Needed all things considered and youre not meant to read it as everyone failing her#but rather ‘’bluestar needs to get a grip and learn that work comes before your mental health’’#but yknow i can at least get it yknow?#but yellowfang? everything about her se makes me feel bad for no reason. everyone is shitty to her from day 1 and they end it being shitty#and we have no real reason to believe her life sucked before the brokenstar stuff#we didnt need raggedstar to bully yellowfang from birth and then coerce her into a relationship#we didnt need a pointless power where she can feel everyones pain and its never acknowledged again#and only serves as a way for sagewhisker to bully yellowfang into the position#we didnt need yellowfangs own family to turn on her#i cant remember if this was said in tpb also but we didnt need to watch her daughters die at birth#we didnt need to retcon her actually having friends in shadowclan so that actually dawncloud and the others never liked her#its SUCH a miserable read and on top of that it only offers shitty retcons that actually make tpb worse#like the power thing again but also yellowfang not being an old lady. why isnt she an old lady wtf. why do you hate old people#oh raggedstar was actually abusive to yellowfang? oh all the moments we worship him in tpb sure are great and hold up well!#yellowfang was forced to be a medic wowww so groundbreaking this doesnt cheapen her wanting to be tc’s medic#actually the elders were not old they were super young and stuff for some reason bc old people cant be important to saving a clan ig#and like yeah its not out of the realm of possibility but brightflower being yellowfangs mom is just a bizarre choice to me#idk man yellowfangs secret is an extra level of miserable to me and i think we should all agree its not actually canon#its a cynical and miserable book made to slap a fan favorite character on the cover and vaguely gesture to it with ‘’you like that one.’’
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milkweedman · 1 year
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so. almost done with the heel turn of the second sock (meaning just another hour at most of knitting left) and just realized that i knit the second sock with one stitch more per needle than i did the first. last pair of socks was 14 stitches per needle, this pair was supposed to be 13. the gauge is 7 stitches per inch (3 stitches per cm) so this is an extra half inch larger in circumference.
:/
#was wondering why the heel turn numbers seemed a little off#but i was only working on this at work and its a lot more acceptable to be knitting than to be on my phone#so i never ended up checking my notes bc i kept forgetting to during breaks#also was not confident that i had actually taken any notes to begin with#or where i had put them if indeed they existed at all#im just gonna keep knitting it. id rather risk the last hour of knitting ending up with a still wearable pair of socks#because 8 more hours of work is just as annoying as 9 more hours of work#im also wondering if i can do some sewing to bunch up the top a little or maybe a crocheted cable#if that ends up drawing the sock in. will probably experiment#im not actually worried it wont fit me (i knit socks for myself with a lot of negative ease)#but im extremely sensitive to pressure on my feet and the lack of it from socks is very uncomfortable#so if one sock is looser than the other i will start to lose it#(like in the Fork Theory ? uneven socks is a hundred forks. my tolerance for anything else unpleasant becomes zero#so ! it might not be perceptible (these both have ribbing and that may distract from the size significantly#we will see.#always something these days.#i will admit most of those somethings are caused by my brains inability to hold a stable memory#everything is all blended together and i cannot remember when anything happened or the context of it#i wonder somewhat if its gabapentin symptoms. i was doing fine for a while but ive been taking more than the usual dose#to try and combat symptoms but like good god i feel like my brain has been stuffed full of wool#not even in a fun way#eesh. anyway i will continue to knit this sock i suppose#knitting#sock knitting#woes
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daydreamerdrew · 1 year
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The Defenders (1972) #85
#oh gosh ok the bit where the hulk says#‘What is wave doing attacking Hulk? Hulk will smash wave for this!’#made me fondly say ‘baby’ out loud#I love how the Hulk interprets everything unpleasant for him as an attack against him#it’s so charming#the Hulk genuinely is under attack a lot of the time#but he’s so sensitive and paranoid that he will feel under attack even when he’s not actually#he’s just so stressed out all of the time#and this is largely from the trauma of being attacked so much but it can’t all be attributed to that#like as I was saying before- no person needs to hurt the Hulk for him to get overwhelmed by the sights and smells and sounds of a city#and then smash it#because he typically lashes out physically when overwhelmed and hurt#regardless of if there’s a specific person that can be reasonably blamed#he’s both developmentally disabled and narratively cursed to always be going through terrible events#and I like how Namor approaches that here with ‘his savagery is not his fault’#and so ‘I must remember not to let his brutish mouthings anger me’#in an ideal world the Hulk would be able to grow in a way#where his friends wouldn’t have to just remember to not take his bad behavior personally#but they don’t live in an ideal world#and the Hulk has made a lot of progress in his time with the Defenders in regards to being a better friend#but that’s a slow-going process that’s only been possible because they make allowances for him#marvel#bruce banner#namor the sub mariner#my posts#comic panels
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marsuni · 8 months
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can someone can twist my arm behind my back until i sit down and eat an actual, full, nutritionally sound meal to completion
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chuluoyi · 5 months
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MARRIED ON PURPOSE
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- gojo satoru x reader
"for one, i can show you incredible things!" jujutsu, madness, heaven, sin. the strongest sorcerer is sure to show you all of that during the whole duration of your six-month marriage contract.
genre: marriage of convenience, enemies to lovers, crack, fluff, slight satosugu angst/comfort, kamo!reader, very suggestive. gojo clan is portrayed as very traditional, meanwhile kamo clan is rather unpleasant here
note: the unholy amount of times i've edited this story *sigh* but okay i must drop it here or else i'm going to keep editing it and losing my mind. despite my misgivings and all, i really had fun writing this and i hope you enjoy it! wc. 5k !
a part of 1K MILESTONE EVENT
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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Some would say... marrying Gojo Satoru would be living the dream.
“Don't look that sour now, wife.”
“…sigh.”
A playful nudge at your side, a lighthearted voice— “You're going to make them question our veeery happy marriage, you know… We don't want that now, do we?”
But to you, it was more like nightmare dressed in a daydream.
It was peak comedy because why would you put marrying Gojo Satoru in your life plans? He was incorrigible, a child trapped in a man's body, and there was also the very fact that you hate him. His only redeeming trait was being born in the esteemed Gojo clan, and now held the title of the strongest.
You know you must have accumulated karma, but out of everything else, why must you end up in this predicament?
Hailing from the great clans of jujutsu society, both of you know well that marriage is the essence to make the clan greater. And when it involves the big three clans, its importance amplifies even further.
It was just that you two were too rebellious to follow it through, for one reason or another. Everyone knows Gojo Satoru was faithless to any woman, and you were not exactly thrilled with the idea of marriage as a whole.
He was the one who came to you, proposing this insane idea of a temporary marriage.
"Look at it this way," Satoru said with a wry grin, contrasting your puzzled frown on that fateful afternoon. "It's either me or Zen'in Naoya for you, isn't it? It's so clear which is the better man."
That was what grated you the most. You would be damned if you married the misogynist.
"What do you get from this arrangement, really?" you questioned begrudgingly.
His name would give you security, stop the harassment from your clan, and maybe even a better life, but you didn't quite get what he'd get from the offer he willingly extended to you.
Satoru flippantly shrugged. "Nah, you are not exactly my type, but you're still far better than the boring puppet my family have considered to be my wife."
"Who?"
"Don't remember her name. All she goes on about is that she'll be the good wife and mother of my child. Ew."
Seven hells. You scowled. Gojo Satoru and his penchant for chasing the thrill. Boring women would kill him before an actual curse would.
"And hey, for one," he shot you a smirk, visibly smug. "I can show you incredible things!"
"That's not the point! Gojo, do you even realize—" your voice rose, pulsating with righteous fury, "—how serious all of this is? My life, your life! We're going to be stuck—together!"
"Six months," he blurted, tilting his head slightly. His sunglasses slipped down just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his sparkling eyes. "It's enough time to work through our shits, and by then if you have enough, we're through."
At that time, it seemed feasible. Both of you tolerating each other to avoid a much worse match.
. . .
BACK TO PRESENT—barely a week ever since you were paraded around as his wife, now you and Satoru were stiffly poised in the studio in your formal garbs, capturing your official wedding photos.
At that time, it seemed feasible, but now, it felt like a chore, as you realized that conversing with him either spiked your blood pressure so much that you wouldn't even be surprised if you ended up with hypertension or completely sapped your energy that you were left exhausted.
"Come on, show a smiiile," Satoru said in a sing-song voice, gesturing toward the camera as it flashed for the pictures. You were beyond appalled, shooting a glare in his direction.
"I am smiling, Gojo."
"Liar. You're pouting, wifey~"
Sigh… this really is going to be one hella of a ride, huh?
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MONTH ONE, and you found out that Gojo Satoru is apparently as mad as people made him out to be.
"You've got to be kidding me!" you fumed, right after he hauled you into one of the rooms in his grand, traditional estate. Your glare pierced through him, a blood vessel ready to burst. "We never agreed on ‘consummating’ the marriage!"
You wrote him a goddamn contract. And the three conditions of this chaotic marriage are: one, it would only last six months; two, no personal feelings involved; and three, nothing borderline disturbing.
And this, you concluded, was the height of what could be called as disturbing.
"We will not," Satoru replied with a hint of disdain, grimacing, as if the notion didn't sit well with him either. The audacity! "We're just going to make it as if we are—"
"And why?! Why should I do that?!"
"Why else? Because my old fart believes that we indeed haven't done so."
"Then it's your fault? For failing to convince him? Why turn it into my problem!"
"Because, dear wife," he drawled, his tone taunting on the final note. "Now we're on the same page, in case you have forgotten."
Great clans and their hollow expectations spare no one, not even Gojo Satoru. They place importance in the most banal things, such as the continuity of sacred bloodlines and such.
The only alternative wasn't appealing either. Should you be found out that you married only to divorce... sigh, you didn't even want to know how big of a scandal it would be. One thing was certain: your clan would chop you to shreds.
You really had no choice, huh?
"Five minutes," you warned, glaring at him. "Make it loud. Make it so that no one wouldn't question this anymore."
Oh and sure he would. As Satoru pulled that shit-eating grin, you were in for another ride. You waited out until several maids were nearby, left the wooden door ajar, and began the show—
His hands wrapped around your waist—the feeling was peculiar, but you ignored it—and you let him pull you near that open door. He snuggled his face on your neck—his hair tickling you in the process, but you ignored that peculiarity again—as he started making suggestive noises. "Mm, you're so pretty, darling."
You could hear those maids gasp in surprise. And to add the flavor, you faked a moan.
This is... kinda fun? A twisted part of you suddenly found satisfaction in fooling the maids. A smile tugged at your lips as you shoved him away, and Satoru eyed you in surprise and irritation.
"Husband, you're... insatiable," you worded languidly, and he immediately caught on your act, grinning. "Anyone can walk by, you know."
"Oh? But that's the point." Satoru's bright blue eyes twinkled with utter mischief, and even you couldn't deny the exhilarating rush. "I want them to know."
And suddenly you got this very brilliant idea. You swiftly moved past him and sent the books and trinkets on his desk flying to the floor, causing questionable noises.
"Oh my!" a girlish voice exclaimed.
"The master! And the lady!"
Satoru shook his head, thoroughly entertained. And you rolled your eyes. Those nosy maids would finally have enough now, and this charade would end—
"What's happening here?"
The old fart. Both you and Satoru grunted in unison. You really thought you would leave it up to the maids to spread the word, but then you were taken by surprise when he wrapped his hands around you and flung the door open, slamming you against it—and damn it hurt!—offering everyone a front-row seat to your charade.
The maids squealed. His grandfather raised a righteous, demanding eyebrow. You wanted to scream.
"Hey, gramps," he greeted jovially, breathless, his grip on you tightening and you felt heat radiating from his palm. "Ah, sorry, opened it by accident—the wife here is feisty, you see."
Your veins felt ready to burst. Was this a part of his plan all along? How would you show your face before your grandfather-in-law now that he had seen this... atrocity?!
"So, yeah, we'll resume our business!" Satoru, the idiot, said it as if it was the most normal thing in the world. "See ya!"
With that the door slammed shut, but oh no, it was not the end.
"Mmmph!?" you protested, unintentionally loud and eyes widening in alarm when Satoru muffled your mouth with his hand.
The rotten bastard! You found it nearly impossible to breathe, shooting daggers at him. "Mmmrgh! Mmmrrgh!"
"Oh... so that boy really does it huh," you heard the elder mutter in thoughtful manner from outside—and you were in disbelief at how trusting he was—before rounding the stunned maids and barked, "What are all you doing here? Go!"
You nearly sagged with relief when Satoru loosened his grip slightly, allowing you to breathe, as his meddlesome grandpa finally stalked away. Done. This horrible act was over! But wait, why did he still had his hand on your mouth?
"That went splendidly!" he snickered, appearing rather pleased with what had unfolded. "Now, if only we work together like this more often—"
This is… my life now, you lamented the reality. The feeling of his calloused hand on you made you feel things, honestly speaking, but another emotion—and impulse—currently overpowered that.
Seething with resentment, you fiercely chomped down on his hand hard, causing him to swear and pull his hand out of you.
"You—you devil! You bit me!"
"Serves you right!"
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Okay, he was bad. He was insufferable. But to be frank, sometimes it wasn't all chaos.
And what's more, by MONTH TWO, you realized that being married to Gojo Satoru also comes with several perks.
"Miss, please, you're trespassing—"
You looked at the police with the haughtiest look you could muster, unamused. "Don't you know who I am?"
"No, but it shouldn't—"
"I'm that man's wife," you declared regally, motioning towards a certain tall shuttlecock a few meters away. "Is that not clear enough for you?"
For one, no one can look down on you anymore, because should they try, you have the power to raise your chin high and declare yourself as the wife of the infamous sorcerer. The very moment you did, that nosy police stopped yapping, and let you through.
The cursed boy, Yuta and his classmate had just been trapped inside a barrier a curse user pulled down, and you were assigned to look into this case by the headquarters. As much as it boggled you—because certainly, the strongest sorcerer was enough to investigate this—you still had to do your job.
“What is this?” you asked Satoru, who was observing something far beyond what your measly ordinary eyes could see. “What happened here?”
He turned to you, all with bandaged eyes. “Hmm? Oh, you’re here too?”
“Don't act surprised. Answer my question, Gojo.”
"You’re too uptight, wifey," Satoru's lips curved upwards playfully. He had taken to addressing you with pet names as of late, if anything, only to get a rise out of you. "Isn't it the time for you to start calling me by my given name?"
You let out a weary exhale, exasperated. "I'm serious, did you find anything? Who is behind this?"
"Nah, nothing for you to worry about," Satoru waved his hand dismissively, grinning. "More importantly! Let's head back and have dinner! My treat!"
You weren't that oblivious. You noticed things too.
"What do you want tonight? Sukiyaki? Sushi?" he hummed nonchalantly. "Or shabu-shabu?"
You gave him the stink eye. "Is that all you think about? Food?"
"As a responsible husband, it's my duty to feed my wife, no?"
"News flash: temporary wife."
"But still my wife, regardless. I overheard you earlier. Being Mrs. Gojo is convenient, yeah?"
You ignored how a part of your jolted at the emphasis he placed on that word, grunting. "Nah, it's meh."
Call it a feeling or hypothesis. It was similar to how he treated his students. He always said the dumbest things, but it actually served to make them feel at ease.
Then it occurred to you, could this be actually his attempt to change the subject?
"You can't cheat your way out of this." You shot him a pointed look. "You know something. Tell me."
"Hmmm? And what would I get in return?"
"Don't make this difficult. I'm on this assignment too!"
"Nah, if you call me by my name, I might consider it."
Hah. You should really read a parenting book one of these days. Taking on your husband was more or less the same as facing a kid.
"Satoru," you tested, the name rolling out of your lips far easier than you thought. Somehow, using his given name felt like some sort of a leap of faith.
He stopped right in his tracks, turning to you. His glossy lips quirked into a meaningful smile, and you felt funny.
"Wasn't that difficult, was it?" he winked, and you covered the strange heat creeping onto your face by rolling your eyes and huffed.
Needless to say, he still didn't tell you even a clue. You finally gave up, thinking that if he insisted on not disclosing it, then so be it. You trusted him on this, even as he turned your help away, and you hated admitting it, because, well…
You’d trust him with your life. He knows how to handle this better than anyone.
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Being a a woman in Kamo clan is, in fact, not any better than in Zen'in—you're regarded more as a commodity than a human being.
"When will you bear the child of the bearer of Six Eyes?" in your father's eyes, you were but a tool to tie the Gojo at his hip, and your worth probably wasn't even twice of Noritoshi's. You had known he would ask this when he summoned you to Kamo ancestral home, and you weren't that naive—you had asked Satoru to join you too. But your father had insisted him to stay at the foyer, while he dragged you into his chamber.
Just because you had seen it coming didn’t mean you liked it. "Is that all? Do you really make me come here just to ask me that?"
And what came next was like a crack of thunder.
"How insolent!"
You shuddered, hating how his voice still had control over you. You wanted to stay deviant, but you couldn't keep yourself from shaking. You thought you would have to endure this shit just like you did before, until—
"Now, now... That's my wife you're talking to. I'd watch your words, if I were you."
You had never whipped your head so fast.
There stood Gojo Satoru, your husband, in all his glory. He was smiling but it was clear that he was displeased, evident from his cutting remark, and most notably, how he had unveiled his striking cerulean eyes for all to see. Truth to be told, you didn't expect him to barge in here at all.
"Gojo-sama," your father bowed his head, displaying utter respect towards him, contrasting the blatant disrespect he showed towards you just now. Satoru paid him no heed, as took big strides towards you and seized your arm, prompting you to rise to your feet.
"What is this? Why are you yelling at her?" His voice lacked its usual hint of amusement or teasing, sending a chill down your spine.
"Gojo-sama, I apologize for my tone towards my daughter earlier. I was just trying to educate—"
“My wife. She is my wife now, and it would do you better to remember that,” Satoru asserted firmly, putting emphasis in the way he addressed you, his gaze hardening. "She is an adult. There's nothing left for you to educate her." Pausing, he added, "And the way I saw it, you were just unnecessarily rude."
"Gojo-sama, there were just certain things in our clan that—"
"Please, don't call on us again," Satoru interjected decisively with a light yet firm voice. You could swear your heart was somersaulting at the sight of him staring down your natural enemy. "I'm sure you're aware, but your daughter bears my name now, and she will get the respect she is due. I will have a word with anyone who fails to treat her accordingly."
Somehow or another, Satoru whisked you away from that hellhole, your hand tightly clasped in his. Your relieved sigh didn't go unnoticed by him, as he looked back to you.
"Have you gone soft?" he teased, eyeing you with a playful snort. "Did you forget who your husband is? You've got nothing to fear. Not even him."
"Thank you," you murmured. Your heart was still pounding and your mind blanked, rendering you unable to engage in your usual banters.
His clear blue eyes widened a touch, blinking at your display of vulnerability, Then, he wore the most innocent expression, even sporting a silly smirk—the hardness from earlier gone. "I was really cool, huh? Totally made you swoon I bet."
And in MONTH THREE, you realized, as he laced his fingers with yours, as his laughter filled the air, as calmness swelled on your chest, and as you loudly snorted at his remark, that—
You felt warm, so warm, in fact, and maybe—
"Pfft, you wish."
—maybe... being with him isn't so bad after all.
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MONTH FOUR, and you finally found out that it was Geto Suguru.
Everyone knew that your husband and the criminal used to be the best of friends. You saw them during your high school days, and heck, you used to think that Geto was the better man.
You could only imagine what he must feel.
. . .
When he got back to your shared house after the whole ordeal—after he ended his best friend with his own hands, Satoru honestly didn't expect that you would be waiting for him.
"You okay?" you asked him, brows furrowed in concern. It was probably one of the very few times you had displayed emotions other than contempt towards him.
It felt strange because he was used to your jabs, and he was not sure what sort of expression he should pull now, because truthfully, now he felt empty. Blank. All he comprehended was that he had killed Suguru, that he was gone, and that was something he must do.
It would be just like any other day if hadn't just committed a murder. On someone he held dear.
"Of course, who do you think I am?" Satoru swiftly replied, sounding smug—or at least tried to. "I'm the strongest. I’m unscat—"
"No, not that." You frowned, meeting his gaze squarely. "After everything."
Satoru struggled to choose how he should react, partly because most of his energy had gone after walking Yuta back and reassuring him earlier, and by default, the two of you should be hellbent on hating each other and wishing for this contract to end soon.
"Aww, are you worried about me?" he quipped with a touch of sarcasm just because he had to, to show you that it wasn't enough to ruffle him.
Because he is still the strongest, even when alone. Especially when he is alone.
You let out a sigh, looking away. "Can't I?"
"Whoa, that's sweet of—"
"Don't fool yourself," you stated in straight-laced manner, meeting his gaze with a composed expression. "You're not okay. You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did."
You might be Gojo Satoru, but no one will be after doing what you just did.
Despite himself, his smile fell, and his chest burns. What is this? Were you sympathizing with him?
Does that mean that you don't see him as the entity... that was the strongest?
Before now, Satoru remembered you as the most uncooperative Kyoto girl he had ever met. Your first meeting in high school sealed your fate as the two of you could hardly get along. You didn't mince words, you didn't take shit from anyone else—heck, sometimes when he thought of you, what came up to mind was an impenetrable diamond.
Which was why he chose you. You were someone he could trust. You were pretty in the eyes and certainly wouldn't bore him either. His reasons were purely based on logic. And after four months with you, Satoru came to a conclusion that you indeed fulfilled all his expectations, if not more.
And he felt comfortable, or dare he say, secure even. He felt like he had gained a friend, who could see past his bravado and wouldn't judge him for it.
"You're..." you sighed, casting a sympathetic glance at him, your forehead slightly creased. At that moment, Satoru couldn't help but think you were incredibly endearing, fretting over him. "...an idiot."
"Heh." I really am, aren't I?
"I never knew him well..." you chose your words carefully, hesitant. "Did you try to convince him, before this?"
He barked a bitter laugh. "I did, we even made a scene in front of freaking KFC," he remarked with a scoff. "He didn't listen to me, until the very end."
You wanted to tell him “You have done everything you could” but the words faltered on your tongue. You couldn't bring yourself to say it when you saw the faint quiver of his lips, the slump of his shoulders—the very sight of a boy grieving the loss of his friend.
Your heart pricked too, somehow, seeing that expression on him. And you once again realized that your silly, exalted husband was just as human as anyone else who made him think he wasn’t.
"And you know what he said in the end?" Satoru's tone was flippant, as if asking the most normal thing around, but carried a trace of grief, evident in the slight drop in his tone if you squinted. "He said he didn't regret it, not even a bit."
"I'm sorry," was all you could manage.
Satoru's smile was lopsided. Now that he had finally accepted it, something inside him finally bleeds, and it freaking hurts. The pain gripped his chest like a swirling inferno.
But then, you boldly clasped his hand in yours, gently tracing soothing circles on its back.
"What?" he peered at you, feeling a ghost of a smile forming.
"Consider this emotional support."
And he chuckled softly. Despite the lingering ache, despite the gloom he was sure he would carry for the rest of his life, he felt the pain was more bearable with you by his side, somewhat.
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How?
You blamed it on the alcohol, because it was MONTH FIVE and you were kissing Gojo Satoru, daringly.
"We shouldn't be doing this," you rasped between kisses, breathless, as your own sinful hands plucked the buttons off his shirt. The intoxication might have played a part, but the intense heat coursing through you made it hard to think straight.
Satoru crashed his lips against yours again, consumed by blind lust. "Yeah, we shouldn't," he replied in a rush. His breath was hot as he trailed his lips down your jaw and neck next, savoring the softness of your skin.
You two had attended a banquet for the elite, and you were unbelievably beautiful. Standing by his side as his wife, you drew admiring glances, with everyone marveling at what a remarkable couple you made. The Gojo heir who was born with the legendary Limitless and the Kamo heiress, as lovely as her clan's name was powerful.
His deft hands roamed the curves of your body, exploring every inch of you. The warmth of his hands tickled something inside you as you closed your eyes to sink into this very moment. Next you knew, his bare body was against yours and you were stripped out of your evening dress.
Lust flickered in his honored eyes, as he took in the sight of you in your undergarments.
"You're really pretty, you know," he whispered. The intensity with which his eyes scanned your form made you nearly squirm. "Shame we don't always get along."
"You're one to talk," you retorted, a hint of exasperation in your tone, as you willed all other thoughts away. Thoughts like what comes after this. Thoughts like—
Is it heaven or sin, if you feel both at once?
His thumb tenderly caressed your plush lips, a hint of a smirk on his beautiful face.
He has long been thinking about your body. He was but a man, after all. He just didn't expect that you wanted this too.
There was always this tension, only this time, neither of you could hold it back anymore. Perhaps it was impulse—hell, most certainly it is, but there was another thing, something more that even Gojo Satoru still didn't dare to say out loud.
"Eager, are we?" he taunted when you leaned in, yearning for the touch of his lips on yours again.
You huffed. “Shut up and kiss me.”
A rush of heat flooded your cheeks at the slip of those words. You were about to rectify it, taken aback by your own boldness, but then he drew you close, silencing any further protest with a gentle hush—
"Too late, sweetheart," his husky voice entered your ears, lips curling into the most wicked smile, and you were in a trance. And Satoru was once again convinced, that choosing you as his wife was the rightest thing there was.
If the two of you went with this, then there would be consequences. Things would become more complicated, harder to sort out.
But, he decided, as he captured your lips in another heated kiss, everything else can wait.
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MONTH SIX, and you were dreading the day of your divorce.
You brought this upon yourself. Whenever you reminisced about that night, you wanted to smack yourself in the face and bang your head against the nearest wall.
This marriage has a time limit. And you were doing it out of convenience in the first place.
You weren't supposed to… goddammit—fall in love with him.
But what's done is done, there is no going back in time. Awkward exchanges and lingering stares had been gnawing at your insides these days, and you were sure Satoru too must have noticed them too. You two used to be more relaxed with each other, and he'd even flirt with you, but weeks ever since that night of drunken passion, you almost reverted back to your high school personas—ignoring each other.
This was tough. You didn't like this. And more than that, you were faced with a more pressuring matter...
Gojo Satoru, with everything he possessed, could have had any woman he wanted. This arrangement with you was temporary in the first place, soon he would forget you and flit to the next woman.
The thought made your heart ache, because you had involuntarily gave your heart away to him. Siiigh… What a predicament you put yourself into, huh?
With just a month left together, maybe you should just make the best of it.
. . .
If you thought that things were any better with Satoru, then you were sorely wrong because he too, was debating with himself often nowadays.
Days spent with you were fun and fulfilling. You irked expression somehow had made its mark in his heart. You were pretty, fit to be by his side publicly and preferably, behind the closed doors. With you, he didn't feel the need to carry this facade of being strong—he could be a clown tripping over his own trap and you would amuse him with your deadpan expression.
And ever since that night, he was constantly reminded by how soft your skin was against his. It almost drove him crazy now that he was deprived of it.
How was it the last month already? He wasn't ready to let you go yet.
When he got back home later after his class ended and found you in the dinner table setting the food, all he could muster was, "Hey. Haven't eaten?"
You whirled around to face him in surprise. "Oh... you're back. Just about to. Want to join me?"
Of course he would. And yet as the two of you sat down, it was so painfully awkward Satoru felt like he was dying inside.
Why couldn't he pull off a smart line or two? Where did his suaveness go? He was smoother than this, surely, with his colorful history. One night of passion was supposed to enhance the relationship, not to derail it. What happened to you both?
The salt was near his side when you reached to grab it and bumped into his hand. "Uh-oh."
Turning towards you, he found your spooked expression and your adorable eyes widening in surprise. "S-sorry..."
It was just freaking salt! Salt! Why on earth were you apologizing?!
Enough, he thought. This utter madness of being jumpy with each other. He'd start from his side.
Does he want you to keep being his wife even after all this ends? Yes.
Why? All reasons already listed above.
Does this mean he likes you? Apparently and supposedly, yes. Because if it isn't then he doesn't know what this funny feeling driving him mad is.
With that sorted out, then he only had one more thing to confirm. He put down his spoon and crossed his arms together. "Tell me the truth. Do you like living with me?"
His question obviously took you by surprise. "Huh? What brought this on?"
"Just give me an answer."
"You're so pushy," you grumbled, lips pursed, and he felt like you were finally back to your usual dynamics somewhat. Good.
"Sooo, the verdict? Do you enjoy being with me or not?"
Because to him, it was a resounding yes and more.
Ignoring the warmth that surged to your cheeks, you rolled your eyes. "Surprisingly, not bad, yeah," you admitted, mustering the courage to meet his gaze. "You're annoying, an idiot, a bit crazy—"
"Hey!"
"—but eventually you're still... manageable," you added, feeling your face truly start to sizzle. But covered it up by looking down and playing with your fingers as you still had more to go on. "What I want to say is... I'm glad that I agreed to this—with you—because I can’t imagine it with anyone else."
An unfamiliar tingling emotion rushed to his chest as his face too started to heat up, letting your words sink in. Is he blushing? Oh God. He sure is. And so did he feel hella giddy.
Then it’s sealed.
Suddenly he procured a piece of paper from his work uniform and showed it to you. You first saw his lazily scrawled signature before it dawned on you.
The contract. You almost forgot that you made him sign that looming piece of paper. You were almost dismayed, thinking that he would end this right then and there, but then—
“Well, then… I suppose we no longer need this.”
Riiip~
Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when Gojo Satoru tore out your contract right in front of your face, the most brilliant of his devilish grin adorned his handsome face, as he took of his blindfold to see you far clearly than ever. Heavens, you are cute, he thought.
“Soooo~ seems like you’re stuck with me from now on!”
You gaped, awestruck at the blatant meaning of it all, feeling how your heartbeat started to pick up the pace, when he pulled the rag out of your feet once more by tilting his head to the side, looking at you with a winning smile.
“Let’s start over! What did they say again? Ah, yeah. Here’s to the first day of our lives!”
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moonchild1 · 6 months
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jeon jungkook fic rec list (Ⅸ)
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hi everyone wow it's really been a while and i'm on list 9 already damnnn that's alot and list 10 is like half way complete already... soooo you might notice a change in the set up this time around i liked how it looked on my ao3 list so i added it here as well, i absolutely love this list like i've gone over this list a million times it's filled with alot of fics i was absolutely obsessed with, you know how attached i get to the characters and this list holds quite a few of them too so i hope you enjoy reading them as much as i did and you fall for them too... remember to give lots of love to the authors of these fics they are absolute geniuses and deserve all the respect and love in this world for creating these beautiful fics and sharing it with us so be sure to give them a follow, like and reblog or even leave a little comment i'm 100% percent sure it would mean alot to them 🥺🖤 also as these fics contain smut no under minors allowed/interact... if you would like to share some of your favourites or just wanna ramble about fics you love send me an ask i love hearing from you guys and happy reading everyone till next time ✨🖤
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a- angst s- smut f-fluff
series
dreamcatchers by @ggukcangetit f a
↬  DI Jeon didn’t need a new partner. Unfortunately, his superiors felt otherwise; especially considering the extremely high-profile murder that had just taken place in the port city. Recent transfer, DI Choi Yuri finds herself confronted with a new cityscape, unfamiliar people, a hostile partner, and a homicide that is certain to bring back unpleasant memories.  
block party by @minlucent f s a
↬ moving into your new apartment brings back memories of your biggest mistake. neighbours au e2l
a little bit of your heart by @yoongiofmine f s a ft. myg
↬ you had everything you could ever dream of; the career of your dreams as a music producer, the best friends you could ever wish for, and a exes-turned-friends-turned-fuck-buddies relationship with min yoongi. you knew you and yoongi would never move past that and you were okay with it. Until a friend from your past comes back into your life, offering to give you everything you deserve, everything yoongi couldn’t. Will jungkook show you what you’ve been missing? Or will the new guy threaten yoongi enough to do something about it? 
lost stars by @/yoongiofmine f s a
↬ Jungkook was lost. He didn’t know who he was anymore, so he decided to leave and find himself. But he wasn’t expecting to find you along the way, an island girl who has no idea who he is. Jungkook has a secret. But so do you. idol au s2l
secrets we keep by @/yoongiofmine f s a
↬ Being a camgirl was never your main goal in life, but when the pandemic hit and you lost your job, you were desperate. Now, two years later, the world is back to normal and  you are one of the top creators of OnlyChingu; the South Korean version of OnlyFans. A website where idols hide behind anonymous profiles in search of that connection they lost during lockdown. Jungkook was never into this type of stuff. Until he ran into you. He knows you’re his perfect girl, his ideal type. Will he be able to put his own insecurities aside when chasing you? Or will you let the secrets you keep ruin you? idol au
i hate you, i love you by @jungblue s a
↬ You hated him at seven, warmed up to him at twelve, and liked him at fifteen. Now the two of you are twenty years old and inseparable best friends… and you’re absolutely in love with him; he’s in love too—just not with you. 
fatal attraction by @jungcock s a ft. kth
↬ your dangerous ex-boyfriend comes back to haunt you in more ways than one. exes au serial killer thriller
pub golf by @taleasnewastime f s
↬ One night. One stupidly hot man, who just keeps appearing in every pub you go to. Six friends. Nine pubs. Nine drinks. Ten million stupid rules. Let the chaos begin. s2l
animal by @cutaepatootie f s a
↬ boxer jungkook au ANGST
things you don't know by @btsgotjams27 a
↬ It’s been seven years since you last saw the boy that broke your heart. After moving back home, you try everything you can to avoid seeing him around town, but destiny has a wicked way of doing the opposite.
entangled by @caelesjjk f s a ft. kth
↬ Jeon Jungkook is Spider-Man. He saved your life twice. But he’s also been your sweet lab partner in college for the past two years and now someone who is more than just a friend. You care about him…maybe even love him. But something tells you that you aren’t quite sure what love even is. How could you when you have feelings for someone else as well? Kim Taehyung is the handsome stranger you’ve seen around campus and somehow ended up dancing with at Club Onyx. You were upset that Jungkook had stood you up once again and Taehyung made you feel like you were on top of the world. What you didn’t know that night, is the dark secret Taehyung is trying desperately to hide, but the closer the two of you get the more difficult that becomes.
when the end comes by @oddinary4bts f s a
↬ Seven years after you've started dating Jungkook, long distance creates a wedge in your relationship. When the only solution seems to be breaking up, you go your separate ways even though love still lives in the two of you. Will you find a way back together, or has the end come for you and Jeon Jungkook?
new girl by @jjkeverlast f s a
↬ after finding out your boyfriend of 6 years cheated on you, you find yourself moving in with three guys in a loft. what could possibly go wrong?
horizon by @/sokooks f s a
↬ The way you approached life had started to break down Jungkook's emotional barriers. Jungkook couldn't deny that he was drawn to you in a way that was entirely new and unfamiliar. You had become more than just an assignment; you had become someone he genuinely cared about. It was the way you made him feel. With you, he felt more human than he had in a long time. Despite his best efforts to remain detached, his heart had other plans. angel au
searching for nirvana by @/sokooks f s a
↬ he shouldn't be here. he shouldn't be touching you the way he was- but he was here before him. he was your friend, not him. he knew your body, not him. he wanted to be the only one to touch you the way you liked. he he wanted you to remember that. despite the fact that he already had someone waiting for him. best friends au cheating au.
twelve hours by @whatifyoulivelikethat s a
↬ you have twelve hours to make jeon jungkook fall in love with you. he's about to get married. you're the entertainment at his bachelor party - a burlesque dancer. long ago, he used to be the class representative and you used to be the class delinquent. nothing has changed and, yet, everything has.
when it all... by @7deadlysinsfics f a
↬ what’s there to do when your husband says he thinks he doesn’t love you anymore? you pick up the broken pieces the best you can and try to move on
better than me ? by @/7deadlysinsfics f s a
↬ jungkook is clear on what you both are to each other. still, he doesn’t want you to think anyone else is better than him
our first and our last by @thedefinitionofbts f a ft ot7
↬ The first time you met Jeon Jungkook was on your tenth birthday. On that day, he was nothing more than the strange man who jumped into a dark portal that suddenly opened in the middle of the park. The ten year old you just stood in the grass, strands of hair ruffling from the calm breeze that swooped by; head slightly tilted, bright, innocent eyes wide open and staring at him with wonder and disbelief. There was a certain amount of confusion, but your young mind was too naïve to question his actions or what they entailed. soulmate au
dancer in the dark by @gwoongi f s a
↬ Money can’t buy you happiness. Jeongguk, for the longest time, thinks he’s happy. Truthfully, Jeongguk doesn’t know what happiness is until you find him. rockstar au
together by @httpjeon f s a ft.pjm
↬domestic!au, couple!au, stoner!au, gamer!au
hot bot by @/httpjeon f s
↬ purchasing a Hot Bot wasn’t exactly something you ever really planned on. when you do, however, it sends your life down a path of convoluted government schemes and dark secrets.
stardust by @iamtaekooked f
↬ You didn’t believe in soulmates until you lay your eyes on Jeon Jeongguk, the younger brother of your best friend’s husband. That is when you see the red string beginning encircled around your pinky and ending in his
serendipity by @rohobi f s a
↬ After you reveal your inexperienced sexual status to your best friend, Jungkook grapples with the news, startled by the idea that the girl he always thought could get anyone, is a virgin. After finding his porn at 3AM, you decide that maybe it’s about time to stain the white sheets of your world with the colors of a forbidden fruit Jungkook seems to have in the palm of his hands.
chasing shadows by @colormepurplex2 s a
↬ Your job gets you into trouble sometimes. Who would have thought crime journalism would put so many targets on your back? But, it’s happening again, someone’s threatening you. Only, this time, it’s not just you that’s in the crosshairs. Your best friend, Enola, is out on assignment and can’t help like she usually does. So, what does she do instead? She sends her brother, Jungkook, armed with a magic bag, a charming smile, and deductive reasoning skills that prove his worth as one of the best PI’s around.
I gasp once, and in that breath, I accept you in by @inkofyoonkoo f s a
↬ In which Jungkook arrives to your small town to spend the holidays, and you slowly let go of all the ghosts of your past. s2l fwb au
sweet nothing by @adonis-koo f s a
↬ Being a guest at the Jeon Estate after a mishap of being kidnapped and dragged into your brothers affairs isn’t all that bad. Truth be told it brings you a lot closer to the mobster and owner of the estate Jeon Jungkook himself. His two rules are simple, don’t cause trouble and don’t give him a hard time. Somehow you manage to constantly do both in the most endearing way despite being pregnant and waddling around most of the time.
three's a crowd by @/adonis-koo s a ft. jimin
↬ When your mom’s fairytale life begins to bleed over into your world you’re suddenly caught between two men and one big secret, what was supposed to be a relaxing trip soon begins to spiral out of control. All you wanted was a free vacation… ceo au
sleepwalking by @taexual f s a
↬ due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.
empty space by @ahundredtimesover f s a
↬ It started as friendship, turned to a casual fuck, then ended in heartbreak. Turns out, he wasn’t who he said he was, and years later he enters your life again, forcing you to face all the emotions you’d been trying to bury. 
OR Officer Jeon looks really hot in his uniform and you wish you didn’t hate him as much as you do.
as the world burns around us by @today-we-will-survive a
↬ You haven’t seen the sun in two years. The Virus wiped out a good three quarters of the world’s population and then the wars that followed wiped out half of that. After everything happened, it was only a matter of time before the different countries started blaming each other and emptied their nuclear arsenals. You’re still surprised Seoul survived – if you can call what it has become “surviving”
hotter than hell by @chateautae f s a
↬ jungkook, lucifer and king of hell, has been cast out of the crimson underworld for a reason he’s unsure of. embarking on his journey for the answer should’ve been easy, if it weren’t for you, the human that nurses his wounded body in her home, and accidentally witnesses the truth of his identity. kickstarting a hellish adventure with the devil himself, you discover lucifer is the most infuriating company ever; and jungkook finds out that maybe his answer to returning home lies within his annoying human confidant.
to turn a bad thing good by @/chateautae f s a
↬ jungkook’s drunken one night stand goes awry when he comes to learn not only is he being forced into an arranged marriage, but it’s to the very girl he abandoned that night—and things get a lot more complicated when you’re the best hookup he’s ever had.
J’aime by @baepop f s a
↬ You’re the newest hire at a local café and head barista Jeon Jungkook takes you under his wing.
Written in the Stars by @/baepop f s a ft. kth
↬ You’re the girl of Jungkook’s dreams, literally. The only problem: you’re taken by his best friend
make me forget by @roseannekook f s a
↬ You are the lead vocalist and main dancer of your company’s first girl group, but on the fourth promotion of your debut song things don’t go as planned. At the brink of an uprising scandal, you seek refuge in the bathroom stalls…and find it in the arms of no one else but BTS’ golden maknae Jeon Jungkook.
one of your girls by @ggukiepie s a ft. pjm
↬ fwb au college au fuck boy au inspired by the song
boy in luv by @/ggukiepie f s a
↬ just two idiot best friends in l*ve college!au, bff!jk, athlete!jk, student council president oc, cheerleader!oc
the boy who left by @/gujoonim a
↬ As your eyes staring deeply into your possible client-to-be’s eyes, something crossed your mind, it was that pair of eyes that you were looking for when you being abandoned at the aisle on your wedding day. ceo au
love sewn by @jvnghxope s a
↬ You’ve never cared about the thin-as-paper walls of your beloved apartment until Jeon Jungkook moved next door. You could hear everything –from his late-night parties on Saturday, to the quality time he spent with his girlfriend in the intimacy of his bedroom. One day, everything ceases. Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months and you find yourself knocking his door before you can think it twice.
not yet by f s @bratkook f s a
↬ jungkook feels the pang of guilt in his gut when you spot your recent ex out with his new girl, and what better way to make the jerk hurt than to have him believe you were now dating him, the neighbor he had been insecure about your whole relationship.
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blazes of deceit by @periminkle f a
↬ when the opportunity to finally venture past the stone walls you’ve grown up in presents itself, you jump at the chance to discover the origin of those mysterious lights—even if the trip comes with a harsh truth and a suspicious, yet undoubtedly attractive, tour guide. tangled au disney au
southpaw by @starshapedkookie f s a
↬ Knowing Jeon Jungkook for the better part of your life, you thought you knew everything about him. Well, that was before you two disappeared from each other’s lives at least. When Jungkook suddenly finds himself buying you a coffee to rekindle your friendship, it leads to much more than you bargained for.
house of cards by @jeonggukingdom s a
↬ What does safe mean when you are chased by zombies, when every corner you turn could be the last one for you? What do words like home and future mean when you’re always on the run and every moment could be your last? They mean nothing and everything at the same time and Jeongguk is all of the above. He is your safe haven, he is your home and he is your future. But things like that crumble easily in your world.
enouement by @littlemisskookie s a
↬ War is Hell, but it’s what you had to do to take your brother’s place. Of course, between the days of Hell are little slices of Heaven you’d call your Captain, Jeon Jungkook. mulan au disney au
miss taken by @junghelioseok f s
↬you pride yourself on being a professional, but sometimes your students' parents really test your patience. single parent dilfjk jk e2l
the ex text by @shadowkoo f s a
↬ The 2 AM texts have started again. It’s a bittersweet familiarity that you can’t run away from, and despite wishing to forget him: no one will ever measure up to the exceptional standard set by your ex, and you’ll never have anyone as good as him either. Like a permanent mark on your heart, Jungkook’s presence has become an insatiable craving, an addiction you'll never outgrow or cast aside.
the proposal by @hansolmates f s a
↬Jeon’s the editor-in-chief for Big Hit Publishings, a closet romantic with a penchant for antagonizing his assistant on the reg. When his work visa is in the process of being renewed and he takes a trip to Norway, his eligibility to stay in America is on the line. However Jeon Jungkook doesn’t go without a fight, and in order to save his job he offers you a proposal you can't refuse. based on the movie the proposal e2l
red and gold by @/thedefinitionofbts f s
↬It’s no secret that genius, billionaire, international playboy, and philanthropist- Jeon Jungkook, better known as the CEO of Jeon Industries-and even better known as Iron Man, is one of the most intelligent, wealthy, and powerful men in the world. There’s nothing that can get to him or his ego, that is, until you happen to show up and give him a run for his money. 
burning bright by @snackhobi s
↬there are no secrets in the drift. if jungkook were to see the mess inside your head and heart, laid utterly bare, he’d turn away from you. based on the movie pacific rim
but we loved young by @jl-micasea-fics s a
↬Jungkook is everything you’re not, the ying to your yang. Your tight knit friendship nurtured from childhood survived the major life events that most don’t, and to that end, you suppose you’re fated to be together, until unrequited longing is eventually noticed, and boundaries are forever crossed.
the shoulder on which you cry by @lemonjoonah f s a ft. knj
↬ after moving away from your hometown five years ago, you’ve struggled on every return. each trip back being made out of haste due to an unfortunate event in your life. namjoon has always been there to help you through those moments. but when he can’t be there to support you during your current trip home, jungkook offers to stay by your side and be the comfort you need. 
illusion of choice by @hobibliophile f s a
↬ You’ve grown up with the Jeons, Jungmin and Jungkook, for as long as you can remember, your parents being very close. But little did you know that this is because you are in fact arranged to be married to the Jeon heir, Jungmin. However, a tragedy causes Jungkook to take up his brother’s mantle, and that includes becoming your fiancé.
the blue princess and her red rose by @/cutaepatootie f s a
↬ After all, he was her red rose, while she was just another one of the many blue roses that grew in the dying gardens of Greyria. princess au
rigor mortis by @readyplayerhobi f s a
↬ A night out at a bar results in you going home with a young and attractive police officer. But if you think the night was something to remember, that’s nothing compared to waking up to find a zombie outbreak in the city. A chance encounter with Officer Jeon leads to him helping you escape from the plague infested city.
lowkey by @joonbird s
↬ Jungkook is the nude model for your art school’s life drawing class.
part-time lover by @sketchguk f s a
↬there is no crime more perfect than marrying jeon jeongguk. your relationship is nothing more than a ruse - while your friends pester you for being perpetually single, jeongguk desperately needs a wife to complete the pristine image of a family, fooling his way through the parent interview at the nation’s most prestigious private school. only time will tell how deep your lies will run as you find home in one another’s minds. because untangled in the moonlight, he is but a spy, exposing a secret world of corruption, and you, an assassin, ridding the streets of danger one hit at a time. 
sweet apple biscuits by @rosaetae a
↬ a story about someone who receives letters from themselves ten years in the future and asks them to fix all their regrets and save a particular boy. inspired by the anime 'orange'
i'll be home by @wwilloww f s a ft.knj
↬ When your first love, Jungkook, disappeared from your village five years ago, no one thought he would return, let alone on the night of your betrothal to another man. 
white lies by @noteguk f s a
↬ in which Jungkook lies his way out of and into trouble. But he can’t tell white lies when it comes to you. 
yes coach by @/taleanewastime s
↬ You play in a local netball team and as a new season starts you have a new coach. Enter Jungkook, he may look soft, but he turns out to be a hard taskmaster, one who ruffles your feathers when he makes some changes to the team. Tensions grow between you through the weeks, until they finally reach breaking point.
spf 50 by @gimmeyoon f s
 ↬ If you have to spend your summer home from college working a job you hate, it might as well include sitting by the pool with Jungkook. Now if only kids could stop vomiting in it.
fifth wish by @jiminrings f a
↬ jeon jungkook, world-class socialite and nepotism baby, should be out every night to celebrate while he’s at his prime. why should he fake-date his bodyguard instead? alternatively, jungkook regularly throws coins to wishing wells with only one desire in mind — to get rid of you.
blacklisted by @/httpjeon s a ft. kth
↬after departing from your dom, you’re assigned to two incredibly powerful men.
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↬looking for other jjk fics or the other members check out my library
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earthtooz · 4 months
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x : MY DILUC, MY EVERYTHING :*+゚
in which: you tell diluc that klee finds him 'too boring' to be your boyfriend. he can't help but feel like she's right.
warnings: 1.3k words, insecure diluc who needs a little reassurance, mostly dialogue, klee being cute but also a menace, so much fluff with a dash of angst.
a/n: i have not posted anything in so long, but i wanted this to be my first fic of 2024 because i love diluc <3 i hope you all enjoy this little fic!
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“What do you mean Mr Diluc is your boyfriend?” Klee asks, tilting her head to the side with an inquisitive look in her eyes as you bend down to her height.
“I mean that Mr Diluc is my boyfriend. My partner. We’ve been together for years now.” 
“You mean that Mr Diluc, right?” She raises a tiny hand in the direction where the red-haired in question stands. He’s immersed in conversation with Kaeya and Jean, but from one glance you can tell the estranged brothers are up to no good. Or rather, that Kaeya is having the time of his life provoking your partner.
“That’s the one. I think he’s the only one, Klee.”
Her pointer finger then comes up to her chin in contemplation, and her breath of contemplation materialises as a small cloud, condensating in the winter chill. “Why?”
“What do you mean, why?”
“Why is he your boyfriend?”
“Well, why wouldn’t he be?”
“No offence to Mr Diluc, but he’s so cold and boring!” She cries, clenching her fists to her chest, as if being ‘boring’ was a crime to humanity. “And he never smiles. He should smile more but I would find him scarier like that… so maybe he should stay the way he is: a total gloomy bum bum!”
You can’t help but laugh at her honest statement, muffling the noise with your hand. She blinks at you and wonders what she said that made you laugh, but you simply tell her that it’s nothing.
“Maybe, but I love that ‘gloomy bum bum’ just the way he is.”
“But… why? Y/n is so kind and knows how to smile! Mr Diluc is too sad and boring for you.”
Over the course of your relationship with the wine monopolist, you were met with resistance from various people who believed they wanted ‘the best’ for him. These were including, butand not limited to, businessmen, his admirers, and old aristocrats with wealth on the brink of collapsing. You never let their passive aggressiveness get to you, their comments burned to ashes by the way Diluc lights the way for you with his undying flames. 
Yet hearing a child, who has no real grip of the world beyond explosions and how not to blow up Monstadt, explain that Diluc shouldn’t be with you because he doesn’t know how to smile is… unbelievable. Her intentions are nothing but pure for her knowledge of the world has not yet been tainted by the nuance of human behaviour. As refreshing as it feels to have her support, any insults you hear about Diluc are unpleasant to hear. Though she may not hold any malice, perhaps her judge of character needs to be deepened.
“Sometimes, the coldest people are really the warmest,” you begin, gently wrapping her scarf around her neck. “Mr Diluc is one of those people.”
“Really?”
“Warmer than a fireplace, or a Pyro Crystalfly, or Jumpty Dumpty.”
Her eyes widen. “Really?”
“Yes, but please don’t go blowing one up just to see how warm it can be. Jean already told you about the animals hibernating during winter, you shouldn’t go disturbing them.”
She tucks her hands behind her back, eyes downcast and ears flopped.
“Do you remember when Albedo took you to Dragonspine and when you melted a chunk of ice, crystalflies flew out of it?”
“They were so pretty and became super warm! I wish I caught one of them, but they flew away too quickly.”
“Mr Diluc is just like that ice with the fireflies. You just need to warm up to him and when you do, he can be one of the best people you’ll ever meet.”
“Will he fly away too?”
“You could keep an eye on him and find out.”
She nods, determination alighting in her eyes with the new task you assign her. Although you’re pretty positive she won’t ever succeed with it, you’re just happy you’ve found a way to show Klee that your lover isn’t as terrible as she deems. A flash of familiar red hair appears in your periphery.
“Dear?” He calls, capturing your attention. “Shall we head into the tavern now? It’s too cold to stay out here.”
Sparing one last glance at Klee who regards your partner with fire in her eyes, you can’t help but smile at the pure innocence in her heart. With a ruffle of her hair as goodbye, you take Diluc’s hand and stand, waving goodbye to the rest of the group before heading in the direction of Angel’s Share. Shuddering, you sink deeper into the wool of your coat and the warmth of his Pyro Vision, a perfect combat to the winter frost that’s covered Monstadt.
“You know,” you begin when both of you have arrived at the empty tavern and the red-haired has a fire started in the corner. He urges you to continue with a soft ‘hum’. “The conversation I had with Klee just won’t leave my head.”
“Oh? What’d she say?”
Sitting down on a cold stool, you keep your gaze on him as he walks behind the counter. It seems like he’s preparing drinks and snacks for you: some cheese, crackers, and grapes.
“First of all, she only found out today that I was dating you.”
“Oh? Jean or Albedo haven’t told her before?”
“I guess neither of us appear that much in conversation together. But she refused to believe it at first, being like ‘you mean that Mr Diluc?’, ‘why is he your boyfriend?’,” you laugh. “She thought that you were too gloomy to be with me and that I should be with someone who knows how to smile.”
His cheese knife halts, the sound of metal meeting wood slicing through the atmosphere. However, you’re too engrossed in retelling the story to notice the way he freezes.
“How silly. Kids really have the wildest presumptions and thoughts to match.”
Diluc continues preparing the food, stiff hands moving along the counter. You don’t say more than that, saving further conversation for when he’s done. As he sets the arrangement of crackers, cheese, and grapes down, it’s accompanied by a heavy sigh.
“What if… she’s right?” Asks the winery owner, voice no louder than a whisper.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“I did, but I don’t understand why you think that way too.”
“Well, smiling isn’t my strong suit anymore and I’ve been told by the knights that the children find my expression too scary.”
“You know anyone can smile, right?” You ask jovially. “It’s not like a statistical impossibility-“
“It’s not just that,” he interjects sharply. Your smile fades, acknowledging Diluc’s sombre expression that clarified he wasn’t joking around like you thought. However, seeing the change in your attitude sobered him and that sharp glance fades, turning into something remorseful and softer. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap like that.”
“No no, it’s my fault for not taking you seriously. Please, go on.”
“I’m quite boring, you know.” He fiddles with the ends of his leather gloves. “Did you never think that maybe what Klee said could be correct?”
“Never because she’s not correct. Honestly, Diluc, after all these years of being together and hearing what some people have to say about us, I never thought you’d think like this.” 
He casts his gaze downwards. “Because those people don’t know me like you do.” 
Two hands come up to cup his cheeks, gently directing him to look up at you and meet your kind expression. All inhibitions he had melt away at the sight of your smile.
“I can only hope they never do,” you reply simply, confidence lacing your words. 
Being with him is not easy. He is a busy man, one who manages the entirety of Monstadt’s wine business during the day and takes to the shadows to look after your beloved city at night. Yet, despite working with the sun and moon, he still gives all of him to you. For as long as Diluc will allow it, you hope to be the only person he’ll pick baskets of grapes with, play slow games of chess with, and freely lay out his convictions to. 
You’ll be damned to give up your spot beside him without a fight.
Diluc doesn’t believe he deserves the same. “You’re too patient with me. I’ve let you down too much for you to be this forgiving,” he grabs your wrists and gently knocks his forehead against yours. “I can’t give you everything you want.”
“You’re my Diluc, you already are everything.”
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© EARTHTOOZ 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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shu-bullshit · 8 months
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Finally. John in the psychiatric facility.
Mumbles underneath
This was actually the first FAITH piece I started, the first thing I wanted to draw. But I was stuck for a few days and honestly it looked shit during the process.
I still struggle with realism a lot, result of years of unpleasant training. I often find myself thinking about the rules of the physical world so much that it kills the picture. There's also motivation of people-pleasing in it to me that is hard to get rid of.
When doing this one it felt very much like I'm being sucked into that hole again. But I decided not to look up references and accept things that look off. It's still not there, of course, but I try to take small steps away from that thinking. I want to remember why FAITH attracted me is it created such fear with such simple graphics, there's never the need to tell everything.
I didn't like the process at all, but I always try to finish every piece I started even though it feels like shit, and I'm glad I did. It's a bit less shit so I could also feel a tiny bit less shit about myself.
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khezuonhead · 1 year
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haven't been around much bc i've been trying to avoid Sonic Prime spoilers but heading into xmas there's a very real chance of me venting on here like mad bc i hate xmas and i hate most of my family but i'm forced to go otherwise risk my mum kicking me out so it's really great
a new drama today bc suddenly my aunt feels mega entitled to me + my brother doing "more", wtv the fuck that means
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moonsaver · 3 months
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Finished penacony. Sunday. Oh dear oh dear.
Yan!Sunday who seems obsessively off with you for the early start of something like a relationship. Calm, but underlying warning tones. One wrong word and you might tip him off too much. You've learned one way to decode his emotions are his wings. They tense up whenever you mention something.. unpleasant. Its a warning. You cut yourself off in the middle of your sentence. The silence passes, and his wings relax. He turns to you with a calm smile on his face. You barely squeezed through, this time.
Yan!Sunday who's just a bit delusional. He deludes himself into thinking about righteousness, and you're some sort of reward for him, for him to keep, and shelter, and nurture, like a christmas gift pet, but something more tender. Tender like a bruise, anyway.
Yan!Sunday, who seems.. to be slipping indisputably. In the corners of your eyes, in private, where he meticulously plans everything, every second where you breathe. He helps you dress and laces up your clothing just as he normally does, but huffs, and insists on doing it again. The first few times, he redid it only twice. His frustration would bleed through his fingers the more things proceeded in time, tightening the lace so much, your limbs almost went blue. He apologizes through gritted teeth, and you forgive him. It doesn't help the fact he practically suffocates you with the way he kisses you, though. His lips land on yours a bit too harshly, and you wonder if he actually hates you. Those thoughts dissipate when he relaxes more into it, though.
Yan!Sunday, who stares at you unblinking, waiting for you in the dreamscape, in the reverie, anywhere. Robin's.. departure has put him under more strain, so just for his sake.. ignore the way he tightly grips your arm, fearing it'll snap.
Yan!Sunday – you can't leave his watchful gaze. The last time you did it, he practically forced you to walk through the real dreamscape, deathly shivering as the atmosphere almost froze you, being forced to walk through unyieldingly harsh and twisted paths, doors never staying in the same place, being forced to use rough traversing methods, the dizziness of the memoria almost feverish. He waits for you at the end, a much gentler version of him. You fall into his arms, sobbing and weeping, and for once he handles you with care. Gently wiping your tears, stroking your hair, his hand guiding the back of your head to his shoulder, burying your nose into the crook of his neck. You notice just how much more warmer he feels in the dreamscape, not just due to the cold atmosphere. His wings gently flutter on your face. Let's leave now, he says. I trust you've learnt, my dear.
Yan!Sunday, who decides that maybe keeping you in the alternate dreamscape, Golden Hour, would be much more preferable. He seethes watching you be eyed by everyone – officials, businessmen, representatives, whoever it may be. He gently lulls you into the dream fluid, kissing your hands, up to your arms, neck, til your cheek, until you finally fall asleep. He places you down and gets to work in a second. When you panic, not being able to wake up, he's right beside you in a heartbeat, telling you there's just been a slight error.
Yan!Sunday, who would even go as far as to construct an entirely new dream for you and you alone. No one would be allowed to visit except him. He tells you it's for the better. Everyone lies in Penacony. Stay put and let him take care of this. Let him take care of you. Of everything. You dont miss the way his hands harden their grip around your waist. His gaze settles gently on yours. It's a harsh contrast to his eerily peering one, in reality. If you even remember what it's like being there, of course.
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planetsano · 4 months
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fem reader. both reader and yuji get zero bitches. waxing.
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I was having thoughts about Yuji getting his first wax at this really cute spa— its the new year so he’s really trying to make the effort of taking this whole “self care” thing he’s been seeing on TikTok seriously. He seems like the type to be pretty hairy down south anyway and in turn he trims it here and there but he never really upkeeps the maintenance. He wants to see what this waxing thing is all about.
So, he books the appointment and he gets you as his esthetician. He’s nervous! But also very excited! He booked a facial as well as the wax so you of course take very good care of him. The conversation is flowing beautifully and there’s a bit of chemistry there. He also thinks you’re drop dead gorgeous and when he walked into the studio, he tripped over his shoelace but that’s neither here or there.
When it’s finally time for the wax? You’re prepping everything all nice and instruct him to take off his pants and boxers— and Yuji immediately freezes. He’s all like “What do you mean?” so you look at him from over your shoulder because you think he’s being silly but the look of genuine confusion on his face lets you know he’s being deadass serious. You tell him, “Well, I can’t wax you with your pants on now can I, cutie?” as sweet as can be, its almost a little maternal too the way you say it.
Poor Yuji. He didn’t really think about any of this fully through. He mentally punches himself in the face because of course he would have to expose himself to the esthetician, that’s just how a Brazilian wax works! Yuji doesn’t want to make it awkward so he complies and takes off his pants and underwear before he lays back onto the table. God, he’s never felt so embarrassed in his life! Is the lamp really necessary..? The warmth of it did feel pretty nice. That’s beside the point anyway.
As he’s laying there while you dilly about with your back turned to him, his mind starts to wander. When was the last time he’s had a woman’s touch? It feels like ages because it kind of has. A year? Almost close to a year. He can’t really remember. Yuji thinks you’re pretty and a good time— you’re easy to talk to and if he didn’t know any better, he thinks he might have a tiny, little crush on you. He’s already been thinking about booking another service just so he can see you.
The thought is super cute, but what isn’t cute is Yuji fighting every single demon, every single thought— nearly trying to astral project so he won’t get hard. You didn’t give him a warning before wrapping your gloved hand around his shaft and he jumped, which did get a giggle and a little “Feeling jumpy today, are we?” out of you. He played it off with a bashful little “Sorry.” before relaxing again. You’re not really doing much but your job and that’s why he feels like such a pervert when all the blood from his skull has rushed to his cock.
For him, it’s like this huge elephant in the room but for you? You don’t mind, there’s always a possibility which is why you don’t take male clients but Yuji is the only exception because he’s cute and seems like a good boy. He probably thinks that he has a poker face but there’s a reason why you keep cooing at him because he’s definitely the type to wear his heart on his sleeve. It’s so desperately obvious that he’s trying to think about the most unpleasant and uncomfortable things but it’s not working.
As the service continues, Yuji is not longer trying to keep from stay hard but he’s now rather trying not to cum all over your hands and his chest. But it’s becoming increasingly difficult to do so. He peeks down every now and again to see the progress, he keeps telling himself “She’s almost done, she’s almost done.” that he needs to hold out for just a few minutes more then he can put his pants back on. But, unfortunately it doesn’t seem to work out like he would have hoped to plan.
Your hand slid up his cock with just enough pressure and friction to make him blow his, really fat load actually. He desperately tried to grab your wrist before it happened but it was already too late, the broken protest turned into a pitiful moan halfway, the panicked jerk of his body.. truth be told you thought it was sweet. You’ve also been going through a dry spell yourself. Your last ex made you want to do some healing but with that came with stepping out of the dating pool and no casual sex.
You, yourself felt like a bit of a pervert standing here with a man putty in your fingertips. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry” was all that left his lips as you cleaned him with with a Kleenex but all you could say in return was:
“Can I..? Have your number?”
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