#*rubs my hands together and posts my gay little fics*

[1000punks]

bonding. //bedding

bonding. //masterlist

pairing: spawn!Astarion x named!Tav (non-binary OC)

warnings: 18+. nsft. mdni. bondage. oral. fingering. smut-to-fluff.

word count: 5,196

summary: two gays remodel a house domestic fluff and some character background building, set in post-game baldur's gate. two people who are weird and traumatized work on their relationship and reclaim their sexuality through a shared kink. lots of gooey romantic smut while these two slowly figure out their future together.

named!Tav is my non-binary tiefling ranger, Festé. i was seeing far too few fics with tiefling!Tav and i thought it was crucial, nay, critical to include them in the headcanons. i hope you all enjoy! ♡

Astarion stirred when he felt Festé press their face into his chest, lifting his head from the pillows and blinking the sleep from his eyes. The tiefling had wound all of their limbs around him, including their tail, and they had begun snoring softly into his neck. Their warm breath on Astarion's neck encouraged a shiver to run up his back. He looked around the room, gently shaking the hair out of his eyes, and his gaze fell on a rapidly fading sunbeam from between the thick curtains. The elf smiled, running his fingers over Festé's back while he closed his eyes once more, doing a self-assessment. He was still stiff from the previous night, though the bath had helped. The tiefling moaned into his shoulder suddenly, and Astarion froze, smirking when he felt their back arch under his hands. They pressed themself tighter around his body, and the elf's eyelids fluttered; he so welcomed the warmth as he felt them start to rub against his thigh. Whatever they were dreaming of, he could tell they found it pleasurable, from the way they clung to him and lazily rocked their hips. He steeled himself; he wasn't quite so depraved as to take advantage of his little imp, of course, but that wouldn't stop him from waking them up to play. He drew the blankets tighter around the both of them, giving Festé a tight squeeze.

"Good evening, darling," he murmured softly. "I'm ready to make good on my promise." He couldn't resist biting their ear gently, sucking at the lobe with a devious chuckle as they twitched bodily in his arms. They shifted, baring their neck for him instinctively, opening their eyes, and letting out a heated sigh. Astarion claimed their neck with a messy kiss, his voice velvety against their skin. "Did you have a pleasant dream, darling? You were moaning about something; what was it?"

Festé yawned, shivering as he kissed down to their shoulder and up again to their ear, whimpering at the attention before clearing their throat. "I'm not telling, my love. Reality is so much better than some tired old wet dream." They chuckled, smoothing their palms over the elf's sides. 

Astarion pressed his thigh firmly between their legs, chuckling softly. "It certainly was wet, my dearest." He pressed against them, pushing his imp to their back easily and draping his body over theirs. "Isn't it fortunate that you have me here to clean you up?" He rested on his elbows, dipping his head to kiss Festé deeply, licking into their mouth before pulling away with a hard suck on their bottom lip. He breathed out roughly against the corner of their mouth. "Gods, darling…" he sighed. "You smell absolutely fucking divine. It's overwhelming." 

"Indulge yourself then, Star. Smell me. Taste me." Festé smirked at him, kissing softly at his lips and chin and moaning out involuntarily when he ground his thigh between their legs once more. They heard him growl in his chest and pulled back to meet his eyes, which were dark and hooded. Full of lust. Festé tried to sit up before Astarion pushed them down roughly by their chest. His grip was exceedingly gentle as he moved his hand to their throat, resting his body on theirs and kissing them once more, brushing his nose over their skin subtly. Festé hooked their thigh over his hip, pressing up against him. Astarion promptly pinned it to the bed, moving his other hand from the tiefling's throat and resting it on the mattress next to the tiefling's head. He pushed himself off them, and smiled down at them.

"Wrists, darling." His voice was soft, and Festé held them out without hesitation, while Astarion reached for the hank of rope hanging from the headboard. He measured it out and fashioned it around one of his imp's wrists. His eyes raked slowly over their body and he licked his lips. "Spread your legs," he spoke again in that soft tone, though Festé could tell it took some effort. Astarion wove the rope through the headboard, pulling it taut and tying the end around their other wrist. He slipped one finger under the binding to check it was safe, and he sat back with a haughty grin. Festé squirmed as they opened their legs for him, and he looked over them with a hint of triumph in his eyes, glancing down before meeting their gaze once more. "You're leaking all over our nice sheets, darling. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I say, I can't help it; my fiancé is an apex predator that wants to devour me." They chuckled softly as he glared at them, finally shaking his head and joining in. Astarion moved close, clawing up their sides firmly and leaning down to nip over their collarbone, pressing his fangs to their skin in warning.

"You don't know just how right you are, my dear," he murmured against their chest. "However, you won't be laughing for long. In fact, my plan is to have you moaning my name." Festé let their head fall back against the pillows, and the elf glanced up at them, grazing his teeth over their chest. "May I?"

The tiefling nodded, their mouth dropping open as his sought the soft skin above their heart. He sank his teeth in and drank messily, but only for a moment. He pulled away and let Festé's blood trickle down between their breasts in small rivulets. They squirmed again, following the small river of blood with their eyes and shivering as it began to pool in their navel. Astarion had sat up, his face sombre as he met their eyes, and blood staining the corners of his mouth. He didn't even bother to lick them clean, instead opting to lay between the imp's legs, dipping his head and lapping softly at their navel, his body relaxing and humming his appreciation. The elf leaned up, licking slowly back up to the seeping wound on Festé's chest and sucking deeply.

They tried to put their hand in his hair, to pull him closer, but instead they yanked their wrist hard against the rope. Astarion groaned softly, smiling against their skin and continuing the slow sucks. Festé began to whimper, arching their back and whispering, "Star, it's too mu…" He pulled away immediately as they spoke, bending to circle their nipple with his tongue instead, sucking it into his mouth a moment later. The tiefling moaned in relief above his head, their breath hitching. Astarion moved his arms under their legs, pressing messy, bloody kisses down their stomach. He gripped Festé's thighs, pushing them up on his shoulders roughly while his nose brushed against their hip. He glanced up at them, watching their skin flush an even deeper shade of red when he breathed out over their clit. They lifted their hips, and he pulled his head back with a smirk, not letting them have contact.

Festé tried again, letting out an exasperated sigh when the elf reached up and pressed his palm firmly on their stomach, shaking his head. They strained yet again, which earned them a firm bite to the inside of their thigh — enough to bruise, but not quite enough to bleed. 

"Patience," was all he whispered, pressing a messy kiss against their clit, and they resisted the urge to jerk their hips up, pulling the ropes taut once more, and stifling a moan. Astarion was satisfied, licking slowly through the folds between his imp's legs. He moaned softly, pressing the flat of his tongue to their entrance with each slow lick. He moved to lock his arms over their hips, pulling them closer, and they gasped in pain when the rope cut into their wrists. Festé couldn't resist bucking their hips up with a low moan when he sealed his lips around their clit, and he looked up at them through his bangs as he sucked with varying pressure. He didn't let them settle into a rhythm, pressing his nails into their skin as he held their hips down and forcing them to submit. Festé let out a low, shuddery moan, watching their elf pull away and run his tongue messily over their clit, simply raising his eyebrows when they began to shake beneath him. Astarion lifted one hand when the tiefling moaned out again, reaching up and pushing two fingers into their open mouth, moving them slowly over their tongue, and pressing down on it. He hummed approvingly when they got the message and began to suck at them messily, breathing shakily. He cast his eyes down once more, eventually closing them and loosening his grip on Festé's hips, letting them rut freely as he dipped his tongue against their entrance again. Slowly, he withdrew his fingers from their mouth, spreading drool over their chin before pulling his hand away. Festé keened when the elf moved back to their clit, flicking his tongue lightly over it. They choked off into silence when he slipped his fingers inside them, and he sighed through his nose as his imp's body seemed to swallow them up. 

Festé began to move their hips in shaky bucks, pressing their mouth against their bicep to stifle the moans that Astarion was prying from their chest. He curled his fingers subtly, looking up at them again as he licked firmly over their increasingly overstimulated clit. His free hand moved to grip their thigh, and he pressed his nails into their skin. The elf felt their entrance start to twitch around the base of his fingers, and he started to move them in slow thrusts, increasing the pace the more they moaned. He breathed raggedly, the scent of their arousal fully overwhelming him as he started sucking messily, the tips of his fangs pressing into the skin above their pubic bone. They rutted more firmly before going slack on the bed, their inner muscles squeezing around Astarion's fingers while he kept them moving, teasing out their orgasm.

He worked his fingers free slowly, moaning out with a short chuckle as Festé all but gushed over his palm. The elf quickly dove to lick them clean, slipping his soaked hand down to grip his cock, and starting to roll his hips slowly against the bed to slick himself up. He moaned roughly, unable to get enough of their taste, continuing the adoring, deliberate licks. Festé encouraged him with a litany of soft pleas, and he responded in kind, breathing in their scent as it seemed to assault him from all sides. His tongue trailed through their folds and along the insides of their thighs, and he was losing himself almost completely in the moment. 

"Star…" came a whisper from above him, and his head snapped up. He looked positively debauched. Astarion was panting, leaning up on one elbow, and rocking his hips into his hand. His cheeks and chin were slick, and his lips were pink, parting slightly as Festé looked down at him. "Star, untie me; I want to touch you. Please?" they begged in a soft voice. Astarion let out a heavy breath, sitting up between their legs and wincing as he moved his hand from his cock. He reached up, undoing the slipknots on Festé's wrists quickly, and reached down to cup their cheeks in his hands. 

"How do you feel, darling? Mm?"

"I'm floating, my love," they whispered, reaching up to grip his wrists, and Astarion sighed out softly, giving them a gentle kiss on the nose. They let out a heavy breath. "I need you, Star…" Festé pushed their hands into his hair, pulling him down with a sigh and kissing desperately over his neck.

Astarion was only too happy to oblige, resting his body on theirs, turning his head, and claiming his imp's lips forcefully. He pressed his hips to theirs inquisitively, and they nodded, one of their hands moving to grip the back of his neck, not daring to break the kiss. The elf adjusted with his free hand, slipping into them easily and sliding home with a hard sigh. He bit their lip, fingers searching blindly around his thighs to pull the blankets back around them both, finally gathering them around his shoulders. Festé moaned roughly into his mouth as he began to thrust his hips lazily to theirs, his arms sliding under their back and crushing their body closer against his. In reality, neither of them were moving much; each was opting to rut against the other and simply enjoy the way their bodies pressed closely together.

The tiefling broke the kiss first, knocked breathless when Astarion pressed as deeply as he could inside them. They clung to him tightly as he dropped his head to their shoulder, arching when he pressed his nails into their back. He was trying desperately to stifle his moaning against his imp's neck as he rutted against them. Festé could tell, even in their altered state, that this was not perfectly polished and practiced skill. This was a vulnerable man, acting out of pure sexual desire and carnal need. It was a relief, they thought, to finally see this side of him. They tilted their head, breathing roughly against his ear, while they redoubled their grip on the back of their elf's neck. He stiffened above them, letting out a soft whimper and rolling his hips to theirs in a firm, slow grind. One of his hands moved up Festé's back, cradling their head as he pulled back slightly, brushing the tip of his nose against their own. 

"Darling… touch my back," he murmured. When Festé looked incredulous, he shushed them, whispering, "I know why you never do; it's because you're frightened of hurting me." The elf kissed at the corner of the tiefling's mouth, keeping the movements of his hips slow and breathing out heavily in pleasure as he felt them squeeze around his length tightly. "I want you to touch it. Please. I need to feel tenderness on that part of my body, for the first time in my life." He met their eyes, his own wide and pleading. "I want you to have that honour, my love."

Festé's fingertips travelled cautiously down his back, so lightly that Astarion could barely feel them. He arched to their touch regardless, knotting his fingers into the hair at the nape of their neck, pulling and tilting their head up. They watched his face cloud over with ecstasy and smiled. "Does that feel good, my love?" they breathed. He nodded, responding with slow, messy kisses over their neck. Festé experimented, running their fingers up the dip in the elf's back, and his hips jerked forward, surprising both of them. 

"Sensitive…" he moaned softly against their jaw. It wasn't like him to be so pliant; it was usually Festé in his position, coming apart so easily under another's touch. They marvelled silently at the phenomenon, matching their breathing with his and tracing slow figure-eights along the small of his back, and his hips stuttered, grinding to theirs roughly. Finally, he pressed their hips to the bed with one hand and gritted out, "Don't stop." Festé chuckled impishly, dragging their nails up his back softly. It was interesting to watch Astarion try to act tough while he was whimpering into their ear. The friction soon proved to be too much for the both of them, and Festé broke first, much to their chagrin, and they kept their touch light, dragging their nails slowly up their elf's back. The weak pulses of their muscles forced a moan from his chest, and he was suddenly slamming his hips with no rhythm, just need. He didn't stop even when he hit his peak, panting raggedly as he trapped their mouth with his. They smoothed their palms over his back, their touch soothing enough to get him to slow down, and he melted under it entirely, resting on top of them with a shaky sigh. 

"I've never felt like that before." Astarion whispered, a long while later. He hadn't moved an inch, and Festé had continued running their hands slowly over his back. "I didn't know that could feel so… good." He looked up at Festé from their shoulder, his eyes hooded, and hummed softly, nuzzling into his imp's neck. "How do you feel, my darling?"

"Peaceful, my dear. It's nice to see you so… blissful." They smiled, closing their eyes, their hands still moving over Astarion's bare back. "Seeing you experience genuine pleasure is pleasurable to me."

"That's a very selfless statement to make, darling," the elf quipped. "Are you saying that if I were completely selfish about my pleasure during sex, you would find pleasure in it still?" He reached up, stroking two fingers along their jaw.

"More or less, yes. As you probably know, I'm very sexually flexible." Festé chuckled. "I'll do anything with you, so long as we both consent to it."

"Anything, you say?" Astarion pushed up on his elbows, looking them over and narrowing his eyes. "What if I kept you right here all night?" he lifted one hand, touching his pointer finger to their nose. "To satisfy any and all of my cravings?"

Festé smiled widely, tilting their chin up and nibbling their elf's finger. "I wouldn't mind that at all, my love. Oh-!" Astarion had bucked his hips to theirs firmly, and they huffed out, chuckling. "How are you still ha-!" Another rough slam of his hips silenced them.

"Magic, darling," Astarion answered sardonically, smirking at his little imp. "It has nothing at all to do with the fact that you're beautiful, and I love you." He bent forward to kiss Festé, as if to drive home his point. "Mn… beautiful, and handsome, I might add." He chuckled, kissing softly down one side of their neck and up the other, pressing his hips to theirs in a hard grind, forcing a gasp from Festé's chest. 

"Flattery will get you everywhere, Star…" They lifted their thighs, and Astarion caught one, holding it over his hip. The tiefling's eyebrows furrowed as he pressed painfully deep, their breath hitching and coming in short gasps. He leaned back, one fang peeking from behind his lips as he smirked widely, watching their mouth fall open in a snarling moan.

"Darling… I've never heard you make that sound before," he purred. "Do you like a little pain? Or shall I ease up?" His imp shook their head quickly, gritting their teeth when he rocked forwards again. "No? You be sure to tell me if it's too much, hmm?" They nodded once, and Astarion pushed up to his knees, pulling both of Festé's legs up and hooking them over his shoulders. He gripped their hips firmly, jerking them down the bed towards him, and hitting their inner wall in the process. They arched their back with a hoarse moan, their tail flicking out across the sheets and curling up. Astarion glanced over at it, one hand smoothing over his imp's stomach and pressing the heel of his palm firmly below their navel. He hissed out a sigh as he started to move, lips curling into a grin as he felt his cock move under his hand.

Festé brought their arms above their head, stretching out languidly below their elf. The tiefling's tail snaked over the bedsheets, coiling easily around Astarion's wrist and pulling it, forcing him to increase the pressure on their stomach. They watched his eyes widen as he splayed his fingers over their skin. Festé pressed their hands against the headboard, trying to get leverage to rut back against their elf's thrusts. Their mouth hung open slightly as they worked their hips, and Astarion leaned forward, forcing them to fold in half. He trapped their wrists in his free hand, gripping them tightly, and watching his imp struggle in his grip with a hot sigh.

"That's it, darling. Pretend that you don't want to give in, and then submit to me. It's adorable." He kept his thrusts even, the angle allowing him to press deeper into them with every movement. Festé all but writhed below him on the bed, hissing out their pain and pleasure as Astarion's movements gradually became harder and faster. He stopped suddenly, laughing when it made his imp whine out loudly. "Oh, oh…" he cooed, pressing firmly at their stomach while he slowly pulled out. Festé gave him a pleading moan, tugging at his wrist with their tail. He wrenched it from their grip easily, chuckling and gripping one of the tiefling's shoulders, forcing them to turn over. Astarion pressed the heel of his palm in between their shoulder blades, catching their wrists and holding them against the small of their back. "Good, stay on your belly for me, darling," he murmured softly, leaning down and nipping softly at the back of their shoulder. Festé only thrashed in his grip, their whines muffled against the pillow.

Astarion kept the grip on their wrists, clawing down their back with his other hand before wrapping his arm under their hips and yanking them up. He slipped back into them effortlessly, heaving a sigh of relief when he buried himself within their slick heat once more. The elf smoothed his palm over their belly with a breathless chuckle, staying still while his beloved imp started to rock their hips back against his.

"Calm down, darling. Let me take care of you, mm?" Astarion whispered, walking his fingers down Festé's lower stomach and brushing them lightly over their clit. Their hips faltered, nearly collapsing on the bed, before they pushed their knees apart. Their breaths came in rapid gasps as they moved their hips with no rhythm. "I've got you, my love. Move however you like." He squeezed their wrists gently before letting go, bending over them and kissing up their back messily, resting his free hand on the bed next to their shoulder. He never stopped moving his fingers between the tiefling's legs, pushing them to the edge. Festé began to moan out in need, and Astarion subtly moved his hand from the bed to their throat, pulling them upright and back against him in one fluid movement. Astarion sat down on his knees, pulling his imp into his lap. He felt them freeze, and he started to laugh. "Don't move, darling, just enjoy… mmh, the feeling."

Festé leaned forward slightly, resting their hands on their elf's knees and panting out, "I don't think… I can move, my love. You're so…" they shivered, clenching around Astarion's length as he squeezed their throat, starting to rub at their clit in slow circles once more. Eventually, he released his grip, dropping his hand to their stomach and raking his nails over their skin. Festé's hips twitched, and they stifled a whine, taking a deep breath instead. Astarion sat up slightly, taking his hand from between their legs as his chest brushed against their back. He reached forward, closing his hand around theirs and pulling it slowly. Festé glanced down, starting to squirm as they grasped what he was doing.

"Touch, darling." Astarion's lips grazed their shoulder, starting to guide their hand, his fingers deftly pressing over their own. "Let me help," he chuckled darkly.

"N…nuh…" was the only sound the tiefling could produce in response; between the depth and the way he was manipulating their hand, it was all becoming too much. Festé slumped in the elf's lap, barely moving besides their chest heaving as they gave up another orgasm to Astarion. He gripped their wrist, encouraging them to continue rubbing slowly as his left arm snaked across their chest, holding them steady.

"I find it so endearing whenever you turn into a little ragdoll, my dear. For one, it's adorable, and it's also so much easier to lay you down, like so…" He guided their limp form back to their stomach on the bed, smoothing his hands up their back firmly before pulling their hips up, holding them tight as he started to rock into them. "And then take advantage of you, like this." Festé moaned weakly in agreement, and Astarion tutted at them softly. "Keep your hips up for me, darling; that's your only job." He watched them nod slowly, balling the sheets up in their fists when Astarion began to slam into them roughly. His breath came heavily, the heat building low in his stomach when he reached down, knotting his fingers in Festé's hair. "You're so good for me, darling…" His mouth hung open, realizing the undertone of his statement and deciding to say the quiet part aloud. "I love you, so much…"

Festé mumbled softly against the sheets, arching their back and pressing firmly back to the elf's thrusts, catching him by surprise. He wrapped his arm around their hips and held them firmly against his own, grinding out his release and succumbing to the heat that seemed to blossom over the surface of his skin. It nearly put him flat on his back, and for once, he felt warm again, nearly human. Slowly, he came down, pressing his hips forward and catching himself with one hand on the bed next to Festé. The elf felt the sudden, sharp desire to blanket them with his body, and he gave in to the urge, slipping free of their twitching warmth and curling around them protectively.

Astarion shifted their body gently, laying next to them as he pulled them to lay on their side, breathing against their ear and kissing softly over their shoulder. "What did you say, darling?" he whispered breathlessly against the back of their neck.

"I said: 'If you love me so much, let me feel it'." Festé answered in a weak whisper, resting their hand on top of his, and pulling it to their chest. Astarion felt their heart racing, and he chuckled, nuzzling their neck. He reached down clumsily to pull the blankets around himself and his imp, and pulled them tight against him, shivering a bit. "Are you cold, love?" Festé murmured, turning over and wrapping their limbs around their elf when he nodded, brushing his cold nose against their cheek. The tiefling twitched and laughed softly, wrapping their tail around Astarion's thigh.

He sighed in bliss when they began to pet over his back softly. "Darling, do you know what I've always admired about you?" He peeked down at Festé's face tentatively.

"Hmm? What?" They tilted their head up to look at him.

He quickly averted his gaze, brushing his lips on the tiefling's forehead. Festé smiled. Even if their pale elf had lost his ability to blush, he still had his tells. Astarion paused for several moments, collecting his thoughts. "Your confidence," he finally said, resting his chin on the top of their head and stroking through their hair. "You've always faced things head-on, since I've known you. When I tackled you the first time I saw you and pressed a dagger to your neck, you were calm and level-headed. You refused a deal with a devil without breaking a sweat, then walked into his home and killed him. You faced down a shapeshifter in her… meat suit, dashing outfit though it was…" he chuckled to himself. "You climbed a netherbrain and essentially told it to go fuck itself. You never let anyone manipulate you, least of all me." He winced briefly at the memory of their first time together. 

Festé hummed, "Well… you were there with me the entire time, love. Wouldn't that make you equally confident?" They looked up at him, smiling warmly when he looked down to meet their gaze. He was smiling half-heartedly and shook his head.

"I was terrified the entire time," Astarion snorted. "The only confidence I had came from following your lead, and being thoroughly invested in you. I kept thinking that things could fall apart at any time, and they very well could have, but you were there." He sighed and traced his thumb over their cheek slowly. "Whenever we had stopped to camp for the night, and everything felt completely hopeless, you walked to everyone's tents and talked with them. I watched you every night of our little adventure. You definitely soothed my fears whenever I saw you approaching; I'm sure the others have similar sentiments."

"You flatter me, my love, but I-"

"Shh, shh. Let an old man get to his point." The elf rested a finger against Festé's lips, giving them a wry smile. They rolled their eyes and chuckled. "My point is, I appreciate that you are the way that you are. You're like the sun, loathe as I am to compare you to something that can burn me alive… But you brighten every darkness in your loved ones' lives. I aspire to be more like you." He moved his finger, leaning down to kiss them softly. "Now, it's your turn."

Festé was blushing fiercely at this point, and they shook their head, blinking. "I… I didn't realize you felt that way, is all. It's a lot to take in. Not to be, well, the hero, but; meeting everyone that we did, and seeing that most of them were as frightened as we felt made me feel that I had no choice but to act. Maybe that's stupid, because I don't think I knew what I was doing. I was frightened, mostly, of not being able to keep the promises I made. To you, to our friends, to the rest of those people… You know what I mean?" They paused, feeling tears well up, and they laughed wetly while Astarion looked on with concern. "I'm glad that my tenacity is what won out in the end, but I was equally as terrified."

Astarion squeezed them tightly, rubbing their back in slow circles. "Well, you're either very adept at hiding it, or, my darling…" he pulled back, tilting their chin up with two fingers. "Or you're not giving yourself nearly enough credit. Despite your fear, you were confident. You are confident, and I love that about you. You're never paralyzed, do you understand? You always seem to know exactly what to do, and I just…" he swallowed, his throat suddenly dry, and smiled sadly.

"You know what I admire most about you, my love?" Festé whispered softly, palms splayed on the elf's back, and he hummed in curiousity. "You're open-minded, far more than you give yourself credit for, before you start protesting." They smiled, resting a finger on his lips and beaming at him. "Even after everything you've faced in your life, you're open to new experiences. Lesser people would have given up, but you are ready to embrace life." The imp sighed happily, cupping his cheek. "Following strangers across the Sword Coast, then allying with them. Taking a chance on someone who was supposed to be a one-night stand. Playing devil's advocate, or, well… advocating with a devil to seize your freedom. This right here, as well." Festé traced their fingers down Astarion's spine, looking down between them and around the bedroom, smiling. 

Astarion smiled along with them, and the two fell into a comfortable silence as the night stretched out before them.

a/n: thank you so much for continuing (or starting, if you just got here) to support this fic! you rock! you matter! check out the masterlist if you want more sweaty elf-tiefling goodness!

#.fic #fic: bonding. #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion acunin #astarion x tav #astarion bg3 #spawn!astarion x named tav #bg3 astarion #i'm all pointy ears #oc: festé #astarion

[a-whispering-echo]

I didn't know you wore glasses.

A Crust/CrossDust oneshot for my band au, where Cross didn't know Dust wore glasses

They're very gay.

This will be in the oneshot book that I'll post after the full fic is finished updating :)

Theres a bit that get a bit suggestive, so just a heads up, Cross is fantasising, but nothing happens any more pg than a kiss here :)

It was a lazy Sunday afternoon, and the Night Shard Crescents were taking a break from their busy schedule. Dust and Cross had decided to spend the day together at their shared apartment, enjoying each other's company and catching up on some reading.

As Cross lounged on the couch, engrossed in a book, Dust sat across from him curled up in an armchair, a novel in his hands. He had a habit of squinting slightly when he read, his expression one of concentration and focus.

Cross found himself stealing glances at the brunette every now and then, unable to resist the urge to admire his boyfriend. He loved the way heterochromatic eyes moved across the pages, brows furrowing in thought as he absorbed the words. He loved the way Dust's lips would sometimes curl up in a small smile or how he would chew on the end of his pen when he was engrossed in a passage.

But today, something was different. The blond noticed that Dust's squint seemed more pronounced, and there was a faint hint of a frown on his face. He wondered if something was bothering Dust, but he didn't want to interrupt his reading.

He didn't want to pry if Dust wasn't ready to share whatever was bothering him, so he decided to keep his observations to himself. Instead, he continued to feign interest in his book, while stealing glances at Dust every now and then, his concerned eyes hoping to catch a glimpse of what might be bothering his boyfriend - who kept fidgeting and occasionally rubbing his eyes.

As the minutes ticked by, Dust's eyes started to strain even more, and he found himself blinking rapidly to try and ease the discomfort. Eyes flicking up, he checked to see if Cross was looking at him, relieved to find him with his nose in his book, Dust took a deep breath and carefully reached for the drawer of the nearby side table.

The bassist's heart skipped a beat as he saw his subtle movements. Now, with his curiosity piqued, he continued to pretend to be engrossed in his book while carefully keeping an eye on his boyfriend. He watched as Dust opened the drawer of the lampstand, raising his head slightly to see what he was searching for.

His heart only continued to swell when he saw the guitarist take out a glasses case from the drawer. He had never seen Dust wear glasses before, and the realization that his boyfriend needed them for reading hit him like a sucker punch to the heartstrings.

Dust's face relaxed as he put the glasses on, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and Cross couldn't help but find the sight endearing. He watched as Dust's squint disappeared, honey-brown and ocean-blue eyes sparkled in relaxation behind the glasses. Seemingly, he believed he'd gotten away with his little secret.

He tried to push away his thoughts and be nonchalant about his revelation, but his mind kept flicking back to the image of Dust wearing glasses. He imagined reaching out and pushing those stray strands of hair away from Dust's face, tucking them behind his ear to get a better view of those beautiful eyes framed by the glasses.

'No, bad Cross, don't think about that, he clearly doesn't want you to know!'

But imagine him all flushed and pretty - blown-out eyes only looking bigger behind the lenses, as he stared up at the blond over him with adoration, as he whimpered, arms held pinned above his head by entwined fingers…

He quickly shook his head, trying to clear away the inappropriate thoughts.

'Focus, Cross, focus on your book. Stop daydreaming about your boyfriend in glasses.'

Every time Dust looked up from his book, Cross couldn't help but stare, captivated by the new sight. He found himself mesmerized by the way the glasses perched on the guitarist's nose, founding his face and making him look even more adorable than usual.

The brunette continued reading, seemingly unaware of Cross's internal turmoil. He occasionally adjusted his glasses, pushing them up slightly when they slipped down his nose. He found even those small gestures incredibly endearing.

Waking up in the morning with him sitting up in bed, glasses perched on his nose, his hair tied back and messy, the freckles that coated his face visible as he handed Cross a cup of coffee, his voice raspy with sleep as he muttered 'Good morning.'

The more Cross tried to distract himself, the more vivid his daydreams became. He imagined lazy mornings spent in bed, cuddled up with Dust, savouring the quiet moments before the world woke up. He pictured himself tracing the bridge of Dust's glasses with his fingers, leaving light touches on his cheeks, and feeling the warmth of his breath as they shared gentle morning kisses.

'Get a grip, Cross. This is not the time to fantasise about your boyfriend.'

But he couldn't help it. The image of Dust wearing glasses captured his heart, and he found himself falling deeper in love with the guitarist. It wasn't just the glasses; it was the vulnerability and intimacy of Dust sharing this part of himself with him, even if unintentionally.

As the afternoon sun began to dip lower in the sky, Dust finally closed his book, stretching his arms above his head in a contented yawn. He pushed his glasses up once more, the movement drawing Cross's attention yet again.

"Hey, Crossy, what you staring at?" Dust asked, catching the blond's gaze.

Cross quickly averted his eyes, feeling a blush creeping up his cheeks. "N-nothing," he stammered, trying to act casual. "Just lost in thought."

"Lost in thought, hm? What kind of thoughts you having that make you blush like that, huh?" The guitarist smirked.

"Oh, you know, just daydreaming about… stuff," he said, trying to play it off as casually as possible.

Dust raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by Cross's flustered state, as he strode closer. "Stuff, huh? Care to share what kind of stuff you're daydreaming about?"

"Well, it's… um, you," he admitted, trying to avoid eye contact.

Dust's playful smirk grew into something much darker, a mischievous glint in his eye, as he got closer again, their noses almost touching. "Me, huh? What about me?" he hushed, leaning down, practically in his boyfriend's lap.

Cross's cheeks turned even redder, and his heart pounded in his chest as Dust got closer. He found himself unable to look away from the captivating gaze of those heterochromatic eyes behind the glasses.

"You look really good in glasses," Cross blurted out, unable to hold back the compliment any longer.

That gave him pause, as he blinked, reaching his hand up to trace a finger over his glasses, feeling slightly self-conscious. "Oh…I forgot I was wearing them, heh."

Cross gently reached out, taking the brunette's hand in his own, intertwining their fingers. "Don't be embarrassed," he said softly, bringing Dust's hand to his lips, leaving a tender kiss on his knuckles."You should wear them more often; you look gorgeous."

"I might if you keep looking at me like that."

Cross couldn't help but smile at Dust's response as he leaned in, unable to resist the pull between them, and pressed a gentle kiss to Dust's lips, conveying all the affection and admiration he felt for the other man.

Dust melted into the kiss, his fingers tightening their grip on the bassist's hand as he leaned in closer. The warmth of their embrace, the taste of Cross's lips, and the feeling of being cherished made his heart swell with love. The glasses on his nose bumped lightly against Cross's cheek, making him smile.

They broke the kiss but remained close, foreheads touching as they breathed in each other's presence. "Well, I'm glad you find my glasses so fascinating," Dust murmured, his voice soft and filled with affection.

Cross smiled, his eyes locked with Dust's. "I find everything about you fascinating."

#undertale au #undertale #fanfiction #dust sans #dusttale #dusttale sans #cross!sans #xtale cross #cross sans #human au #band au #xtale sans #murder!sans #murder sans #Crust #cross x dust #dust x cross #Crossdust #background BSP #in the full fic #its just these two here

[craftyinternetland]

I've been seeing a few posts on the royalteeth tag about queenie being a supportive wife for Kinger being gay, even after her abstraction. So just for this fic, I'll set aside my chess siblings headcanon for this.

I just want to say real quick, I support both Royalteeth and Checkmate. Do not attack me, this exception will probably only happen once.

Fic is under the cut!

Caine clacked a few keys on his keyboard, finishing a new line of code. Bubble dragged a wooden door onto the stage using his teeth, leaving deep marks in the wood. The members of the circus watched with curiosity.

After Caine finished the code and a moment of silence, Jax finally spoke up.

"Alright, what's going on, Caine? What's with the door?"

"I'm glad you asked!" Caine lifted his cane from the ground beside the door and tapped it 5 times on the ground. A breeze passed through the circus, sending shivers down everyone's spines. "I recently finished a line of code giving our wonderful friends a newer form! Only temporarily... But we can communicate with them again!"

" 'Wonderful friends?' Who are you-" Ragatha started her sentence, only to pause in shock as the door was opened.

A wispy silhouette emerged from the doorway, resembling an old friend of the members: Boris, an abstracted member who went insane before Zooble joined. Everyone stared in shock.

"Hello, Boris! It's great to see you again!" Caine waved hello to the canine ghost, and was greeted back with a snarl of annoyance. Caine merely chuckled. "Still the same old Boris!"

"BOOORIS!!" Gangle cried, running towards the wisp. Thankfully, she crashed right into him, confirming everyone's hopes that they could hug their old friends. More abstracted characters returned to the circus in wispy ghost forms. The last one to return was... Queenie.

Kinger hadn't even noticed her presence, as he was more focused on his boyfriend enjoying the positivity. Though he noticed when she tapped his shoulder solemnly.

"Ah! Queenie, my-" He paused his words. She stared at him patiently. He glanced at Caine before continuing. "My dear... It's been so long."

"I know, dear. I'm overjoyed to see you again." She grabbed Kinger's hands and held them tight with love. Kinger chuckled awkwardly. She rubbed his hand with her thumb, as she used to when she wasn't a large eye-covered beast. Caine watched the interaction awkwardly, afraid to say anything.

"Queenie, dearest..." Kinger began, pulling his hands out of her grip. She blinked in confusion. "I have something to tell you."

"Oh? Please, go right ahead, love!" She curled her own hands together. Jax heard her words and chuckled awkwardly, wanting to watch a potential fight but didn't want to be thrown into his room. Caine gripped his baton.

"Well- You see, um-"

"Oh, Caine! There you are darlin'!" Queenie waved to ringleader, startling Caine and having him drop his baton. "Oh, dear, you dropped your baton!" She wasted no time in climbing the stage and helping him out, ignoring his stuttering. Kinger discreetly took the ringleaders hand as Queenie lifted the baton from the ground.

"Here you go, dear. Be careful next time!" Queenie cheerfully handed the baton to Caine, who simply responded with a shy nod. Queenie then turned back to Kinger. "Now, what was it you wanted to tell me?"

"Um..." Kinger gripped Caine's hand. Queenies eyes drifted towards where their hands joined and gasped, surprised. Kinger immediately jumped to explain. "Now I swear I can explain this, Queenie-"

"Oh Caine, you're making my old boy happy!" She said excitedly, clapping her hands together. The ringleader blinked in confusion at the stranger reaction. Kinger looked just as confused. "Uh, Queenie-"

"Don't worry about me, Kinger, darlin'! I'm 100% okay with you dating this old gentleman!" She flicked her hand at Kinger, waving away his concerns. He sighed in relief. "Oh, thank god..."

"Kinger, I don't understand why you'd be so concerned. I've always been supportive of our little queer friends! Don't you remember when Boris and Jax had a little affair?"

"QUEENIE!" Jax shouted in embarrassment, stomping his foot. Quiet giggles erupted from the other members.

Queenie took the two lovers hands, squeezing them tight. "I support you both in your little love endeavors. Don't worry about me getting jealous; I half-expected this anyway."

"Oh. Well in that case..." Caine grinned at Kinger, placing one hand to his face. Kinger blinked in the confusion before being bombarded with kisses. "AH, NOT HERE!" Both of them laughed. Queenie watched with excitement. "Ah, to rekindle a broken heart. Truly a sight." She sighed happily.

~

As time passed, and the adventure came to a close, the ghosts soon waved goodbye as they passed through the wooden door. Queenie was last to leave, waving goodbye to the couple as she grinned. "Treat him right, Caine!" She said finally before the door shut, closing the barrier between the digital and the abstracted.

Caine floated closer to Kinger shyly. "Soo... Would she have any objections to marriage?" He muttered quietly, but loud enough for him to hear. Instead of yelping in surprise at the idea, Kinger chuckled.

"I think she'd be estatic. Maybe we could invite her to the wedding."

#kinger x caine #royalteeth #tadc fic #tadc

[chawarin-panich]

Nani, I gotta tell you that after the epic highs and lows of ep. 7, I feel like reading your 3 fics about FK's really gay fanday would heal me.

I am so sorry for what im about to do to you. I realize that I have lulled you into the false security that I write fluffy FK from all that is my ao3 profile but there's nothing good that can come from episode 7 and FKs repressed gay desire for each other so uh just know that in some ways you did ask and so you're receiving:

Pairing: FirstKhao Rating: G

Firstkhao post GMM fanday concert

-----

There’s few ways to describe riding out another crescendo next to Khaotung, reaching new highs in his life knowing it’s only possible as his partner, next to him. Khaotung’s face is splotchy from the sweat and tears and the cake of makeup who’s durability he’s testing to its maximum. And he looks perfect, he feels perfect, he feels so much better than what First’s imagination could have ever come up with.

Khaotung takes his hand like he doesn’t have to think about it, and even though his heart rate picks up infinitesimally, fast as it was going already, he doesn’t either. Because this is who they are, always ready to support the other, that nothing is truly off-limits, nothing exactly forbidden.

Khaotung tugs him to the dressing room and doesn’t let go until the door is shut behind them, they’ve done this enough times to know that they both need this, First doesn’t know what call it other than aftercare, of just him and Khaotung coming back down into their bodies together after soaring somewhere beyond the capacity that mortal souls were made to contain.

But there’s an undercurrent of something different today, at least in First. It felt a little like he’d given away a little too much of himself, in his performance. Too many loving looks, too much honesty in the way he'd held Khaotung like he'd never let go. It felt like he’d indulged in his greed for Khaotung a little too much, maybe just a drop past what is durable.

But when Khaotung shines so bright, how can First love him with anything but the whole might of his being. Khaotung falls into him like he always does, like he loves First with all of his being and 

When Khaotung is like this, small and trembling from the drop in adrenaline, makeup smudged from where he’s finally been rubbing at it because it irritates his eyes, a smear of glitter and a cacophony of the stench his cologne and sweat, shirt loosened, looking almost debauched as he’s tucked in First’s arms how can First love him with anything less than everything he has to give.

“I love you, Fir.’ Khaotung whispers into his shoulder.

What can First do but hold him tighter and say it back.

“I love you too, TungTung. More than anything else.”

And it’s so easy and so simple, so sincere in the way that it’s absolute that he doesn’t feel the need to add, “maybe more than I should” because what’s the point in that. What’s the point in qualifying it beyond the joy of having Khaotung right here, right next to him. 

Khaotung looks up at him, his eyes glistening, playful like on stage, holding magnitudes in the way that he shouldn’t. What does it matter when Khaotung closes his eyes when First puts his hand on his cheek, fingers tangling into the cold grime of hair gel pooling at Khaotung’s hair to pull him close. What does it matter when Khaotung shivers and exhales like he’s slotting into place, when First pushes their foreheads together and loves him with a greed that cannot be satiated until he’s consumed Khaotung whole.

What does it matter when he gets to have this, Khaotung pulling him close and loving him back with a sincerity that shatters his heart.

What does it matter, when even if it’s just in this moment, he feels that Khaotung is his and it fills him with a contentment so deep that he can spend lifetimes basking in it.

#nani writes #nani answers #firstkhao fanfiction

[spritehouse]

My Nightmares Have Nightmares Every Night

Drabble | Derek & Luke (could be platonic or romantic) | derek and luke talk about their abusers over chinese food

this was written by maya (with tori co-con/near the front) who doesn't usually write fics & posted with her permission. it doesn't end on any concluding note because we switched before she could finish it

CW: discussions of past abuse and abusers

“Do you ever worry he ruined you?”

Derek pauses, food halfway to his mouth, lips parted as his company breaks their silence, soft brown eyes staring at him, searching for answers the former agent doesn’t have as they sit in the 24/7 Chinese restaurant a few blocks from his apartment.

“Yeah,” He says after a minute, lowering his chopsticks to return the younger man’s eye contact with a sincere nod. “When he– When Buford,”

“There’s power in saying their name; they can’t hurt you anymore. You won.”

“When he started losing interest in me, I felt… empty; I almost missed it—you know, feeling wanted, even if that want was fucked up—and that scared me. I thought I was dependent on him—that I needed him to feel okay again,” Derek takes a deep breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “And when I went to college and started experimenting, I was afraid he made me gay, so I stopped sleeping with guys. I was terrified he made me something I wasn’t, but I’ve learned that I am who I am despite him, not because of him.”

“Do you feel like that anymore?”

“Sometimes. Sometimes, I can hear him talking to me or feel his hands on me, and it feels like a punch in the gut because I should be over it by now, and if I’m not, it means I never will; that all I am, and all I’ll be is that little boy, but that’s not true. There’s no timeline for healing; that doesn’t mean they ruined you.”

“Do you ever still miss it?”

“I don’t miss him or what he did to me, but the attention, yeah. It felt like I was his whole world—abusers will do that—and sometimes I want to feel like I’m someone’s everything again. That doesn’t mean I wanted or deserved it, though, and that applies to whatever you’re feeling, too.”

He’s silent for a few minutes, hand shaking as he reaches for his glass, finishing his water in a few anxious sips.

“I think I still miss her sometimes,” Luke admits, voice low and wavering, fidgeting with his fingers as he drops his gaze. “She was my best friend and my first girlfriend, and we– we had so many plans for our lives– our lives together; I wanted kids with her, and wanting kids now, it feels like a betrayal, almost.”

“Yeah, it sucks—leaving behind someone who played such a big role in your life—it’s like mourning who you could’ve been if they never hurt you.”

#shortmc #criminal minds #luke alvez #derek morgan #morgalvez #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction

[xenon-demon]

For the Steddie Ask Game: 5 & 11!

WOOOO OKAY I WAS HOPING SOMEONE WOULD ASK #11 :D Thank you so much for the ask!

5. If they had pets what would they be?

So I don't think either of them had a pet growing up - Steve because his parents didn't want an animal shedding fur all over the house or causing a ruckus, and Eddie because by the time he wanted a pet he was already living with Wayne and the trailer's way too small for most pets. Eddie does, however, go out of his way to befriend the stray cats of the trailer park and leave food out for them; he's named them all and says they all have very distinct personalities.

Once they're living together and have their own place, however, they definitely get a dog. Steve has always dreamed about having a dog, something on the bigger side, that he can play with and take with him when he goes jogging at the local park. Eddie is fine with getting a bigger dog - he might be more partial to cats thanks to his devoted following of stray cats back in the trailer park, but he's one of those people who's partial to both - but they do have some arguments about what specific breed to get. It's settled when Steve says that Eddie's welcome to get a cat of his choice if he lets Steve choose what breed of dog they get - and that's how they end up with Maverick the labrador retriever (he's one of the chocolate-coloured ones) and Elvira the incredibly spoiled housecat (who's black with some white patches).

(Also, after a while, Eddie finally twists Steve's arm into letting him realize some of his more exotic pet dreams. Eddie absolutely gets a pet snake and he's in love with her.)

11. Which one would confess their attraction/love first? Why?

(Okay this post got super long because of my chronic case of can't shut the fuck up, so I'm putting my answer to this one under a cut lmao)

OOOOOOH BOY OKAY *rubs hands together gleefully* In terms of fic, I can read/write it going either way (depending on the AU/interpretation of the characters/events leading up to the confession) but assuming we're going with a classic post-canon "vecna's dead but everyone else is fine actually" type of setting...

I think Eddie is the one who confesses first, but he's not planning for it to be a confession. See, I'm a die-hard truther of Confident Bisexual Steve Harrington™, and let me tell you, the moment that man realises he likes Eddie he is laying it on thick. Sure, not as thick as he would with girls (because homophobia is a thing, and also he's not as sure-footed with seducing another guy as he is a girl) but he is absolutely hitting Eddie with the full power of the Harrington Charm. Eddie, who is really not used to being pursued by other men (especially not like this; usually if someone's pursuing him, it's in a gay club with the intention being a bathroom quickie) absolutely does not know how to handle this. Doesn't help that Eddie's got a tiiiiiiny little complex about being inherently unlovable/"too much" for other people and commitment issues as a result of that, so he's terrified of letting anyone get too close for fear they'll realise Eddie actually is too much and leave him.

So Eddie is being driven slowly insane by Steve's relentless charisma until one day he snaps and asks Steve what the actual fuck is going on here. Because he's so frazzled (and a little insane because of the Steve of it all), he accidentally exposes himself as being very into Steve in return. Steve is thrilled, tells Eddie that what's going on here is that he really likes Eddie, and how about they kiss about it and maybe go on a date sometime? (Plus or minus the miscommunication spice of Mr Commitment Issues Munson saying "oh but this is just a fuckbuddies thing right" and Steve going "oh god oh fuck- I mean haha yeah sure" and them having 20k words of angst about it before Sorting Their Shit Out™.)

I don't think Steve would take the plunge of actually confessing because he, too, has a complex about being inherently unlovable and not being good enough for just about anyone he cares about, really, but especially Eddie. Plus, he has a lingering fear that he bullied Eddie directly in high school and forgot about it, or that Eddie might have forgiven Steve for his asshole jock days enough to be his friend but not enough to be his boyfriend. He's confident enough in himself to flirt with Eddie, especially after the first few tentative tries get what look like positive responses, but he's absolutely not going to put himself out there without some plausible deniability. If Eddie wants him, Steve reasons, then all he has to do is make it obvious that he likes Eddie back and then Eddie will make a move, right?

These boys are So Clueless and have So Many Issues and I need them to kiss on the mouth about it.

Ask me about my Steddie opinions! (steddie-pinions?)

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie headcanon #steddie ask game #steve x eddie #ask games #charlie.mp3

[singsweetmelodies]

i feel like WE ALL KNOW, but i wanna hear you say it anyway

17 and 19 pls 😏

well hello, anon ;D thank you so much for the excellent questions, ehehehe, i am going to enjoy these 😏😍

17. Who's more likely to pull the other in by the waist and kiss them passionately?

yeah, this really is a great one *rubs hands gleefully* and i'm going to give you two answers for it: the pre-relationship and post-getting together versions. i feel like before they get their act together and start dating, it would be charles who goes in for it and makes the move. charles would be the one to pull pierre in by the waist, go for the gap and just kiss him if pierre gives him the slightest hint that the feelings are requited. (in my headcanons, it's always charles who makes the move first. pierre, for all that he is a smug and cocky bastard, also has that insecurity and overthinking, and will insist to himself that charles Can't Possibly Feel The Same until very definitively proven otherwise.)

after they're officially dating/a thing, though, the answer changes 100% to pierre, imo. this is not to say that charles doesn't grab pierre by the waist and kiss him when he feels like they've been apart for too long -- it's just that pierre is usually way more shameless and handsy, and gets there first. (come to think about it, they would probably find some way to make it a competition. IDIOTS (affectionate.) but that's a whole other fic, lmao.) in general, i would say that pierre is more likely to grab charles by the waist and lay one on him, because charles really does just walk around looking like That, and makes it very hard to resist. (and also, WE ALL KNOW pierre loves to grab charles' waist at every opportunity. we know, and who can blame him 😌)

19. How do they feel about PDA?

HA, lol, okay... i feel like they would be the most insufferable couple in the entire world (behind closed doors/with trusted friends, of course.) i mean, even when they're just saying "hi" at the driver's parades, they always have to clasp hands or fist-bump or brush shoulders or make sure they touch somehow. gay or european, huh so i think that, if they were officially dating, they would be even WORSE. even in public, those little "hi" touches would linger for just a second too long. they'd shake hands, then forget what they were doing bcs they were too busy staring into each other's eyes, hopelessly moony-eyed. and when there are no cameras on them/when they're surrounded only by people they trust... omfg. imagine THE worst PDA-crazy couple from back in high school or uni - yeah, the ones who were always standing with their arms wrapped around each other, and stealing kisses, and/or whispering alternately sweet nothings and dirty things into each other's ears. yeah. that'd be them, without a doubt. they would be absolutely unbearable, and i, for one, 10000% support it 😌👌

(obligatory otp asks)

#asks & answers #anon #obligatory otp asks #lmao i love how most of my piarles takes can be summed up as something along the lines of #'oh yeah they are absolutely unbearable but also unstoppable/inevitable and i fucking love them for that' #MWAH. #ooohhhh and thanks so much for these asks bestie!! #i will take ANY AND ALL chances to rant about piarles and how obsessed they are with each other #so ily for this :DD <3333 #🦑🏎️ piarles #piarles headcanons

[bunnyinatree]

Feel free to ignore this if you want, but I saw your tags on my post about loveless marriage in a positive way, and I'm interested! I'm a fic writer too, and making one of my favorite characters loveless is a ton of fun! So- what's your fic about? I'm curious, cause it sounds fun (and honestly like a cool idea)!

Omg, no, I really appreciate being asked about it! :D The fic kind of has a long set-up, to be honest, and I feel like that Always Sunny conspiracy theorist image whenever I pitch the idea. There are also a lot of Death Note spoilers, so I will put everything under a Read More, just in case! :)

Essentially, my fic is a sequel to Death Note, where the character Mikami didn't die, because when Near wrote his name in the Death Note, they were like, "May as well fuck around and find out." So, they added a bunch of wild clauses to see how far the Death Note's influence could extend, on the off-chance that the 23-day rule was fake--including a bit that says that Mikami will be happily married.

Now, this fic started off as a joke between a friend and me, because Mikami does seem very gay at a glance, what with how devoted he is to Kira. And we thought that it would be silly if Near was rubbing their hands together, like, "Let's see if I can use the Death Note to legalize gay marriage." But then, I was like, "Plot twist: What if Mikami isn't even gay?"

So the story turns into Mikami telling Near that they ruined his life, because he's aroace and romance-repusled and loveless, but now his Death Note entry is pressuring him into a committed relationship (amatonormativity personified). But Near is like, "Oh, wow, I didn't know that you were aroace. Me, too. Okay, how about this for a solution, then: I will marry you, platonically." But Mikami doesn't even like Near as a friend; he hates their guts.

So the fic is just Near and Mikami being legally married and going from hating/being neutral about one another to eventually turning into genuine friends. I give them a little mystery to solve to force them to work together, and I have a lot of fun exploring what being aroace means to each of them. I only headcanon Mikami as loveless, and I think that he would be much more romance-repulsed and sex-averse than Near.

I have not begun posting the fic yet, but I did just finish my first draft this morning 🥳 I hope to go back and edit it chapter by chapter and then muster up the courage to begin posting. It is... very long. And I started writing it over a year ago. So you can imagine how far from normal I am about this topic :P

But again, thank you so much for asking! A-spec headcanons are truly the greatest badge of honor that I can bestow upon a fictional character! C:

#remus-of-reston #asks #bunny babbles

[feralghxuls]

rubs my gay little hands together. every time i post about amnesia fic i snag another person's interest

i have the first chapter done, it just needs a little tweaking but i want to have at least three or four chapters complete before i start posting bc i know this is gonna be a long fic and i have no idea how long it's going to take me to write it or how long it'll end up being

#plotting out fics in advance? don't know her #i simply start writing and see where it takes me #i have like.... #idk maybe half of chapter 2 done? #dorito.txt

[quil12]

❤️🦋🎁?

Ooh, thank you!!

❤ Genuinely kind of a hard question lol. I do really love the last line/paragraph of "Lend Me Your Heart and I'll Just Let You Fall". That section is:

"Even if the world was ending around them, even if there was no hope left to be found, he knew that he would always be safe with Yosuke. He was his faith in the darkness, his sunlight in the rain, his first blossomings of spring after a harsh winter. He knew that no matter what tribulations they might face, if they were together, they would be all right. Yosuke was his light. Yosuke was his love. Yosuke was his home."

I remember spending so much time workshopping that section and I'm really happy how it turned out!

An honorable mention though goes to the final line of "Do You See How Much I Need You Right Now?" This was more angst focused, but it was the line that I had in my head that made me want to write the fic.

"Slowly, he felt something warm and wet start to drip down his cheeks as, finally, he let himself mourn the loss of the relationship that had never been his to begin with."

🦋 I really do love writing Yosuke and things from his perspective. I do a lot of him and Yu, but I find the internal thoughts easier to write for Yosuke. I definitely project on to him more, so that's probably a big part of it.

He's also one of my all time favorite Persona characters (probably my favorite tbh). I just find a lot of what he says and does super relatable - the sense of wanting to be bigger than yourself, finding home in the people around you, (being closeted gay and having a massive crush on your best friend - rip). Even the part where he doesn't like fish I relate to lol. So, I feel like when I write him, my characterization is very similar to myself, just more outgoing.

🎁 The WIPs that I have going rn are mostly the things for Souyo week coming up. I can share like a page or so of the one that I'm doing for Day 1. It’s just kind of fluff near the end of it. I’m gonna post it under a break because this post is already getting kind of long lol - This is also not edited yet, so forgive any weird wording.

Yosuke pulled him into the shower, turning it on. 

“Sit on the floor,” Yosuke said once he was in.

“Why?”

“You’re too tall.”

“I’m not too tall.”

“Taller than me.”

“Not by much.”

“Just sit down.”

Yu smiled, complying, sitting down with his legs crossed. Yosuke sat down on his knees behind him. He made him lean back a little to get his hair wet before pulling him out of the direct water. 

After that, Yosuke got some shampoo and started massaging it into his scalp. 

Yu closed his eyes, letting himself get lost in the sensation, his fingertips running over his head, gently rubbing the shampoo in. He let himself lean back against him, making a small noise of contentment. 

He could have easily fallen asleep like that - the warmth of the water, Yosuke’s chest solid behind his back, the comfort of his fingers against his scalp. Yosuke probably knew that and was letting it go on for longer than was really necessary. 

Finally though, he pulled his hands away, leaning him back into the water to rinse it out. After that was done, he conditioned it as well - that wasn’t quite as nice, conditioner not going on his scalp, but the sensation of him touching his hair was still welcome.

When he was completely done, Yu pulled away, “Do you want me to wash yours too?”

“Yes please.”

Yu smiled, trading places with him, sitting up on his knees while Yosuke sat in front of him. Before grabbing any shampoo though, he wrapped his arms around him, burying his face into the crook of his neck. He sat there for a few seconds before pulling away, getting some shampoo and beginning to wash his hair, moving his fingers in small, concentric circles on his scalp.

He did that for a while before rinsing it off, conditioning it as well. 

They finished their shower, getting out and drying off. 

“Do you want to spend the night?” Yu asked. 

“If you don’t mind.”

“You basically live here at this point.”

#fanfiction #fanfiction ask game

[1000punks]

bonding. //dating

bonding. //masterlist

pairing: spawn!Astarion x named!Tav (non-binary OC)

warnings: 18+. nsft. mdni. fluff. mild sexual harrassment.

word count: 2,360

summary: two gays remodel a house domestic fluff and some character background building, set in post-game baldur's gate. two people who are weird and traumatized work on their relationship and reclaim their sexuality through a shared kink. lots of gooey romantic smut while these two slowly figure out their future together.

named!Tav is my non-binary tiefling ranger, Festé. i was seeing far too few fics with tiefling!Tav and i thought it was crucial, nay, critical to include them in the headcanons. i hope you all enjoy! ♡

Festé had dozed off after a short while, and Astarion moved gingerly, laying next to them and pulling them into his arms. He tensed as they stirred slightly, holding his breath, but they didn't wake up. The elf relaxed, reaching to brush Festé's hair back from their face, his lips curling as their eyebrows furrowed and smoothed out at his cool touch. Astarion wished he could still see what they were thinking in these small moments, what dreams they were having; but he relished the change of circumstances and the relative safety he felt now compared to before. He watched them for several moments, taking in all of the expressions they made in their sleep, mirroring them unconsciously. Festé shifted, rolling over and pressing their face into his shoulder, and he ducked the imp's horns with a soft smile, leaning up on his elbow. He reached out hesitantly, resting his cool hand on their shoulder. Gods, how he savoured their warmth, physically and emotionally.

"Darling," he whispered, rubbing slowly down their arm, giving it a squeeze. "My sweet love, I know you're not used to the night shift, but wake up; I don't feel right showering you in kisses when you're passed out..." Astarion spoke in a soft singsong voice, tickling his imp and laughing when they squirmed against him. Their eyes fluttered open and fixed on his face. 

"Star..." Festé pouted blearily. "I'm sorry that I fell asleep." They moved closer to give him a slow kiss.

"Mm..." he hummed into the kiss, pulling them on top of his chest and tracing his fingers down their back. "All is forgiven, my love. Are you hungry? There's a few hours yet before dawn. Can I treat you to dinner?"

As if on cue, Festé's mouth screwed up in an embarrassed smirk while their stomach growled. They pursed their lips and spoke softly, "Well, yes, I suppose. It's a shame though, all of those lonely vegetables in the kitchen will have to wait until tomorrow." The two chuckled together quietly, Astarion sitting up with resolve and helping his imp out of bed.

"Well, shall we?" He led them to the bureau, opening it and picking out a clean shirt and breeches for them, holding them out before pulling them away suddenly when Festé made to take them. He smirked, wrapping one arm around their waist and pulling them close, murmuring, "Wait, here's a tasty little thought, love: I'm taking you out on a nice date while you're still full of my cum." He popped his lips and laughed wickedly.

Festé smiled widely, taking the clothes from him and shrugging into the shirt, lacing it up. They tugged on the breeches and tied them, letting their hands linger against their waist, subtly framing their crotch. Astarion's gaze followed the movement of their hands, and he licked his lips. "That you are, dear. Does that get you hot?" They asked innocently, moving one hand to his chest, feeling it rise as he inhaled with a shiver. He had only gotten his own shirt halfway up his arms, and he was debating taking it off once again. With a swallow, he watched Festé pull it on with a smirk. He seized the opportunity to kiss their neck as they laced it up, brushing his nose against their skin. 

"You have no idea, darling." He wrapped his arm around their waist, leading them to the front door, and draped the tiefling's coat around their shoulders. He pulled his own on and offered his arm to Festé. The pair strolled off into the chilly night, their pace relaxed despite the looming threat of dawn. Festé looked up, taking in the soft lights of the street as they made toward the Elfsong. Astarion inhaled deeply, the scent of his beloved imp mingling with the chill in the air. "You know, it may just be cold enough to frost over tonight, love. It was a good call, harvesting the garden today." He squeezed their hand, bringing it to his lips to kiss with an admiring smile. "I can't say that I particularly enjoy the thought of snow just around the corner, however. Awful cold stuff; I've no idea how other people handle it. Not to mention some awful memories to pair with it," he grumbled, a look of consternation twisting his pale features.

Festé nodded, chewing their lip as he spoke. "Well, it's all the more reason, I think, to make new memories together. Happy ones, to boot. I'm excited to do that with you, my love." They sighed, tilting their head to the side and shrugging. "It might not erase the bad, but I hope to at least balance them out." They leaned up, kissing their elf's jaw softly and squeezing his hand in return. Astarion gave them a sad sort of smile. 

"Very well, darling. I will do my best by your side." He turned, putting a hand to their chest before pulling their body against his firmly, kissing them enthusiastically. Festé heard scattered whoops and wolf whistles from behind him, surmising that they must have reached the tavern and that there were drunken onlookers nearby. They both smiled as they broke apart, Astarion rolling his eyes at the sparse attention before leading his imp indoors. "You sit, my dear, and I will hunt you some dinner," he purred against their ear, kissing their neck softly before disappearing to the bar. Festé obliged, taking a seat at one of the corner tables and taking a slow look around. They watched Astarion lean over the bar, no doubt putting the charm on the keeper for a free meal and drinks. A smirk played over their lips, shaking their head at their favourite rogue's antics and reaching up to chew at their thumbnail, only lifting their gaze when they felt someone smack their shoulder.

"Oi! You ignorin' me, you little morsel?" The tiefling turned, their eyes narrowing when they saw a rather burly-looking half-elf standing over them, with two human cronies in tow. Festé's nose wrinkled; all three patrons reeked of ale, and the large one's eyes were bloodshot. They grimaced as they took the man in fully.

"Beg pardon?" they snarled, crossing their arms, looking the men up and down, and wondering how sharp the chair leg would be if they broke one off.

"I said, ain't you one of 'em heroes that went on savin' the city and all'at?" he spat, sloshing his ale in his cup as he pantomimed swordplay. His friends snorted, and he turned halfway around, continuing in his beer-soaked accent. "Imagine it, mate, beddin' a hero. 'Specially one of 'em devil-spawns? 'Ave never 'ad it all red meself, what abouts you lot?" He chortled loudly, and the other men joined with hearty guffaws as he turned to face them once more, a sleazy smile plastered across his lips. "What say ye, love? Ever 'ad 'un as big as this?" He reached for their arm, gripping it uncomfortably as he wrenched it toward his crotch. 

Festé let him, though they were thoroughly unimpressed. "I am." They sneered, cupping his crotch. "And believe me, I've had bigger." The half-elf looked confused as they smiled, their tone much more seductive, tilting their chin up and glancing over the man's shoulder before their eyes flicked back to his. "But, if you would like to embarrass yourself with this pitiful little tadpole, I would enjoy laughing at you somewhere more private." They couldn't believe he hadn't noticed the red eyes staring daggers into the back of his neck. 

The half-elf's face turned beet red, then a deep purple as he worked out what they had said. He redoubled the grip on their wrist and shouted, "You fuckin' handle-head, I'll- "

"Gentlemen. I would choose your next words very carefully, you great stupid bastard." Astarion had wound his arm silently over the man's shoulder, his dagger pressing against the skin of his thick throat. Festé surveyed the table next to them, where their dinner and drinks sat untouched, and grinned. He hadn't lost his touch. The pale elf tapped his dagger against the largest man's neck as his friends made to turn around. "Ah, ah. I wouldn't do that either. Let go of my fiancé's hand before they tear your useless cock off." He sounded surprisingly calm, given the situation.

The half-elf looked down his nose at the tiefling, who licked over their fangs slowly and chuckled. "He's seen me do it. That's nothing though; I've seen him bathe in some poor innocent's blood." Festé grinned, clicking their teeth. The man slowly released their wrist, and they crossed their arms once again.

"Good job." Astarion crooned, "Now, I'm going to give you five seconds to leave the tavern before I bathe in your blood, darling." Festé could barely hear him whisper above the din of the other patrons. Astarion slowly removed his dagger from the half-elf's neck, who looked as if he were about to turn around until Astarion began to count. "Five... four... three..." The man's eyes went unfocused for a split second as he turned and faced Astarion, taking in the red eyes and the pallor of his skin. He was gone in less than a moment with his friends in tow, knocking over an empty table in the process. Astarion calmly sheathed his dagger, turning to pick up the food and goblets and setting the plate down with an adoring grin in front of his imp, caressing their cheek before sitting down himself. He took a long drink, closing his eyes and taking a deep whiff of the expensive wine. Festé watched him silently, resting their elbows on the table and steepling their hands. Astarion looked sidelong at them, raising his eyebrows and looking pointedly at their plate. "Go on, dear. You look peckish, and you more than earned dinner after dealing with that brute." He bit his lip, leaning closer. "Don't you like pot roast?"

Festé took the leg of beef, furrowing their brows at him with a strange little smile, taking a bite, and shaking their head slowly as they chewed. Astarion's lips parted slightly, his forehead wrinkling in concern and confusion. The tiefling swallowed, picking up the spoon on the plate and pointing it at him, their voice low. "You said 'fiancé'." They beamed at him, starting to tuck in to their mashed potatoes, chewing thoughtfully, and watching Astarion lift his drink to his lips once more, his eyes wide over the rim of the goblet. "Did you mean to say 'fiancé'?"

Astarion laughed a little too boisterously, taking another deep drink and setting his goblet down hard. "Well! I..." He trailed off, looking away with a tight smile as he moved his hands to his lap. Festé grinned, taking another scoop of potatoes.

"Are you wringing your hands under the table, my love?" they asked airily.

Astarion whipped around, scowling as he banged his hands on the table. "No, I'm not," he hissed. His tiefling laughed, setting down their spoon and taking another bite of the beef. "I... it was a slip of the tongue," the elf whispered. Festé knew that if he could, he would be blushing.

"Is that where you see this relationship going?" they asked, keeping their voice low and scooting their chair closer to his. They took one of his hands and laced their fingers with his. "Is that what you want? Truly?"

Astarion grimaced as if in pain, taking a breath to answer but choking instead when his eyes met theirs. Festé played with his fingers idly, giving him a polite nod and waiting. Astarion's face softened, his tone subdued when he spoke again. "I bought you a ring months ago, darling. Before we even faced the brain. I..." He looked up, taking another breath. "I didn't know when would be a good time to ask you, because I've never done this before. But... I do. I do want this." He smiled, though his eyes were watery. "What is it that you want, darling? Is this what you want, too?"

The tiefling ducked their head, attempting to hide their broad smile. "I do," they said simply. 

"You're not serious, are you?" He snarled, his voice shooting up an octave as he reached shakily for his goblet. "Is it really that easy? Here I thought it was a grand gesture, and that I had to get down on one knee, and... and- "

"Well, some people make grand gestures, my love, and arguably, you've done a number of them. But..." they shook their head, reaching out to cup Astarion's cheek, "I don't think you and I are like other people. If you like, you can still get down on one knee. Do you want to?"

"Can I just put the damn thing on your finger?" he sighed, taking a final drink from his goblet, his eyes flicking to theirs. He set it down, his fingers seeking the inner pocket of his coat. Festé had barely blinked before they felt the cool metal against the skin of their finger. Astarion kept their hand covered with his own, avoiding their gaze. "I saved a bloodstone from when we first started wandering on the coast. When I... when we made the decision to be together, I took it to Dammon, and I asked if he could cut it into the shape of a..."

Festé slipped their hand out from under his, giving him a devious smirk before they looked down. Their other hand shot up to cover their mouth, tears springing from their eyes when they saw it. "...a coffin. Darling..." The tears made silent tracks down their cheeks as they looked back into Astarion's eyes.

He took their hands in his once more, a half-smile catching his lips when he glanced down. "I thought it would be perfect." He leaned over, kissing their forehead and nuzzling it. "Death, and rebirth, the shade of your lovely skin, and my eyes. Your... odd commitment to loving little dead elves like me." He chuckled wetly, wiping his eyes. Festé stood up halfway, throwing their arms around his neck. 

"It's perfect," they whispered.

"You're perfect, darling."

a/n: hello all! thank you once more for your continued support for this fic, i really appreciate everyone who's read it!

i hope you enjoy the fluff, the next chapter is going to be racier, stay tuned!

GIF CREDIT: bg3astariononlydeok (go support them too!)

#.txt #.fic #i'm all pointy ears #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #astarion acunin #astarion x tav #spawn!astarion x named tav #bg3 astarion #astarion #fic: bonding.

[the-letter-horror-lover]

Nobody had noticed Agni and Nina had stayed back at the cabin once everyone had left. The two were locked in a heated discussion about a certain secret Nina knew she couldn’t keep much longer.

“She’s into Sebastian Agni and there too many risks!”

“Nina! Just tell them you’re gay as hell and into Meyrin it isn’t that hard! I came out to Sebastian last year and we’re still cool.”

“See! You’ve only come out to one person too!”

“Nope. A bunch. My family, my best friends, and my best mate’s younger friend Ciel.”

“Ugh?”

Nina threw herself onto the couch of the front room.

“I have to don’t I?”

“If this blackmail you and Hannah have got on each other is as bad as you’re making it seem, than I’d go ahead and tell people whenever you get the chance.”

Back in the mess hall, Ciel sat awkwardly across from Sieglinde and Lizzie, unsure of what to say.

“We need to talk about last night Ciel.”

Sieglinde finally spoke up and Ciel inhaled sharply,

“Sieglinde... I was out of my mind last night. You’re extremely beautiful and smart and spunky, but I just don’t know what we can be at this point in my life . I’m sorry.”

Sieglinde felt her stomach jump into her ear. Ciel had said what she feared the most. That everything was due to the alcohol. She’d been proved once again that she may be unloveable and that she falls too hard too fast, even though she tries so hard not to.

“Um... yeah I feel them same ok... I’m gonna go now, I think I should leave. Well Lizzie, I’ll see you later then.

Sieglinde felt betrayed even though she knew from the start deep down that it probably wouldn’t mean anything. She got up and slammed her did tray into the trash, and once she got outside she ran, she ran until she reached her cabin, and she hid from the humiliation as best as she could.

“Way to go, loverboy”

Doll glared at Ciel.

“Oh don’t look at me like that! I met her last night in a drunken haze and we committed a felony together this isn’t a quirky coming of age movie,

Doll it’s my life!”

“Sully is the nicest person I’ve ever met and honestly drunk or sober you two would’ve made a great couple.”

“What are going on about?”

“Ciel, Sully isn’t a party girl, she’s a bookworm with a big heart that loves adventure.”

“Really?”

“Yep, and she saw something in you that screamed adventure, that screamed good. You’re lucky because I don’t think I’ve ever seen that in you before.”

“And I just screwed it up... just like I screw up everything?”

“You don’t screw up everything, but you may have screwed that up.”

“Fan- f’in- tastic!”

Ciel put in head his hands and rubbed his temples.

“Um... bird for brains?”

“Yes doll?”

“You still have that bonfire tonight. Get joker to bring his guitar and I’ll see if he can play some sappy romantic music, apologize, and tell Sully you were wrong and wanna see her again.”

“Wow you make it sound so easy! Why didn’t I think of that?”

“Oh wow! I didn’t know I ordered sarcasm with my eggs this morning!”

Chapter 7: A/N #2

Summary:

• not a chapter of “no more happy campers”

Chapter Text

Hello! First off I’d just like to say thank you for reading my slightly cheesy series thus far, I’ve had a lot of fun writing it so thank you for visiting and leaving kudos for me :)

I haven’t been writing and posting for very long so I promise my writing will get better over time.

I have two announcements!

1. I may slow down on how fast I write chapter updates, I am a student, and I have a busy life but I promise to try to add updates as much as I possibly can. I just may need a little more time :)

2. I have a new series! If you ever get bored or sick of the high school partying and lifetime movie sequel drama of this fic, You can read my series featuring my OC Maryann and her adventures with the kuro characters in their actual time period.

Notes:

• I don’t not own kuroshitsuji not am I affiliated with it .

Happy Birthday, Bocchan

noemiluisa

Summary:

It's Ciel's birthday.

I do not own Kuroshitsuji nor its characters.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

‘Happy birthday, Ciel!’ a colourful crowd shouted at him as he and his dark butler had just entered the mansion. He stretched a fake smile towards the people in front of him. Damn pests invading his house. To his dismay the manor had been redecorated so that now it looked like some damn kid’s wonderland. Pink and blue ribbons adorned the walls while paper strands of different colours were spread all around. There was even a table with food and drinks on it, although it probably wasn’t safe to eat since it must have been cooked by his actual cook rather than Sebastian. Speaking of whom, why the hell hadn’t Sebastian warned him? And more importantly, why had he not stopped them?

Ciel glanced at the impeccable butler who was already attending the party, pouring glasses of a dark liquid to the guests. He got nearer to where he was standing, intent on scolding him. However, someone grabbed hold of him before he could reach his final destination. ‘Ciel!’

He half turned, his eyes softening to meet Lizzie’s. ‘I am glad to see you, Lizzie’.

‘Oh Ciel, I was so happy when Sebastian told me that we were going to organise this surprise party for you, I can’t contain myself!’ she giggled, clearly overly excited.

‘Oh did he now?’ one of Ciel’s eyebrows rose, the child was not pleased. No, he was absolutely displeased by his butler’s behaviour.

Lady Elizabeth retreated a bit, noticing his dark aura. ‘Ciel…let’s dance, Ciel! It’s your party after all’.

As if shaming myself in front of all these people is going to make it any better. Ciel thought. Who is here anyway? ‘Maybe later, sorry,’ he said to a disappointed Lizzie, who strangely didn’t object, perhaps she wanted to make this evening special for him.

Shrugging his shoulder he looked around surveying the area. His servants were standing in a corner, he could clearly see Tanaka joyfully laughing while holding his ever-present cup of tea. The young Finnian wore a light blue suit which complimented his reddish blonde hair and fair eyes, he looked fairly embarrassed though and it was clear he was searching for an excuse to leave the room, just like Ciel.

Mey-Rin was standing next to him, her maid’s dress had disappeared though and she was wearing an elegant long dress which left her right shoulder uncovered as well as part of her back. However, she kept adjusting her skewed glasses ruining the sophisticated look that the dress gave to her figure. She seemed to be immersed in an interesting conversation with Bard, who was instead wearing his cook’s clothes. ‘And yes, I made a special treat for our Lord…trust me he will love it,’ Ciel, who in the meanwhile had gotten closer, overheard him say. Dread filled his heart as he took in the cook’s words, what else did he need to put up with?

‘Ciel, my friend!’ prince Soma caught him in a hug before Ciel could step back enough. ‘My Prince, please, don’t strangle the poor earl,’ he heard Agni’s voice from behind. ‘Happy Birthday,’ the man said to Ciel bowing in his direction. When the spirited prince finally released Ciel, Lau came closer, a trail of smoke following him. ‘Happy Birthday, Earl. I hope your business is going well’.

‘Thank you, everything would be more than fine if all of you just left right now…I mean, if I could call it an early night since I have had a stressful day’.

‘Is that so? But your butler said you’d have enjoyed our company since you think too much about work as of late’.

‘Ciel!’ cried Soma, ‘Don’t say such mean things to your friends. I want to have fun with you, I have missed you so much…’ he hugged the earl again, but this time Ciel managed to push him back without too much effort, he was getting sick of all this hugs. Actually, he was sick of the whole situation before it all even started.

‘Shall I propose a game to play then?’ his butler’s voice came from behind, making Ciel jolt. He turned towards him, deadly eyes glaring at the demon. Sebastian expressionless face didn’t betray any thoughts, but internally he was belated by the effect his little plan was having on his master. This was going to be an interesting evening, for sure.

‘What kind of game do you suggest?’ Ciel coldly asked.

‘One where everyone in here can get involved, my Lord,’ the demon smiled at him.

‘Will you be more clear, Sebastian?’ Ciel was already getting angry.

‘But of course my Lord, if you will allow me, let’s all take a seat…’ everybody sat on the chairs in a circle, Lady Elizabeth standing to the side of her beloved Ciel. Sebastian arrived a few seconds later, holding pieces of paper.

‘Now then I shall explain. Each one of us draws a piece of paper, there’s one detective and one murderer. The detective has to catch the murderer who in turns kills people by winking at them. All the while, we are to chat normally while people die around us’.

‘Oh, that sounds interesting,’ exclaimed Bard.

‘True, let’s play!’ said Soma. ‘I want to be the detective’.

‘Prince Soma, the butler has just explained the rules, you have to pick a piece of paper’.

‘Ah…ok’ and so the Indian prince grabbed a slice of paper, looked at it and frowning sat back onto his chair.

‘Please, refrain from revealing your identities,’ added the butler.

Everyone then picked up a piece of paper and after committing to memory their roles they all started conversing with the people around them. The first to die was Lau, who was standing next to an enchanted Mey-Rin and Agni. ‘Oh well, I suppose I am out,’ was his comment before he rose and went to fetch himself a glass.

‘It must’ve been one of the people close to him, so either Agni or Mey-Rin,’ commented Elizabeth.

Ciel scoffed, ‘The murderer wouldn’t risk his position that easily, if he was going to hit, he wouldn’t go for the people closest to him given that those are the easiest to catch’. He glanced at Sebastian who was seated behind Mey-Rin as he said so.

‘Oh’. The girl stared at him with her mouth open.

‘You surely are an expert at this, young Earl,’ commented Lau.

‘I merely like to play this kind of games a lot,’ the child innocently replied.

A crash on his left attracted his attention. Tanaka’s eyes rolled into his head as the tea dirtied the floor directly below his chair, his cup broken into pieces. It all seemed as if he had been poisoned. Ciel got up but Sebastian intervened first.

‘Here, let me clear this my Lord. And worry not, part of the game states that the victims must act out their deaths quite dramatically, I forgot to mention’.

‘I see. It’s a pity I couldn’t catch who the murderer was because I was distracted talking, but at least I know it’s not Lizzie’.

The butler cleared the floor quickly while Tanaka fell asleep and the game resumed shortly after. Again, Ciel was distracted in another conversion with Soma this time when Mey-Rin fainted, her face flushed red and her faked death not very much believable. Now, who would make Mey-Rin blush so much… Ciel’s eyes wondered back on his servant. ‘Do you think it was Bard, Ciel?’ asked Lizzie.

‘What?’ Ciel snapped back to reality.

‘You said that it probably wasn’t someone near her…’

‘At this point it could have as well been, that’s the third death, we have no way to tell. I have a feeling that the murderer is watching over us’.

Lady Elizabeth shivered, an insensate fear wrapping her body. ‘Worry not my dear Lady, for I prince Soma, will protect any girl at disadvantage and promote happiness for all…’ he was interrupted in his speech by Agni’s hand grabbing at his vest, ‘Prince Soma…I…am sorry, I think you will have to continue your journey through life without me from now on’. He was holding is chest with the other hand and his face was pained.

‘Noo! What are you saying my proud warrior, my best man…I cannot live without you by my side. Don’t die, please, someone do something!’ Soma shouted.

‘But my Prince, the murderer got me, he has winked and thus my fate is marked’.

Soma sobbed over the shoulder of his dying servant, ‘I will never forget you and your services…I hope I will soon follow you’. And in a matter of seconds he too was dead. There were only five people left and one of them was Sebastian. Ciel stared intensely at him, he didn’t want to miss a single movement of the “man”. ‘Ciel, I’ve got it. It must be Bard…look at how he is agitated now, I'm sure he will kill Sebastian next’. Ciel was forced to turn around by his fiancée who was pointing her finger towards Bard. She got up, her voice shaking ‘I accuse you, cook of the manor, of being the one murdering the people in this room’.

‘Lizzie what are you doing? He is not…’ Ciel started.

‘I am innocent Miss’. The cook said before exhaling his last breath.

Miss Elizabeth’s brows furrowed at this and she looked around the room, her eyes scanning Finnian, Ciel and Sebastian. One of them was the murderer but who?

‘May I suggest you sit down, my Lady?’ said Sebastian with a smile.

‘A-ah yes’. She sat on her chair her eyes on Finny while the gardener’s scared gaze kept jumping from one person to the other, sure that it was his time now. And indeed he was next to die, with a scream nonetheless. ‘S-sorry,’ he uttered before closing his eyes. Both Ciel and Lizzie stared at Sebastian now.

‘Sebastian, are you the murderer?’

‘Why, my Lady, took you quite some time to figure it out,’ he winked at her making her blush.

‘Pff, what a boring game,’ Ciel crossed his legs. ‘I could sense from the beginning that you were killing people around, Sebastian’.

‘My, my you are being rather self-confident tonight’ the butler commented. Mey-Rin adjusted her glasses again behind him and Bard took some sweets to share with Finny.

‘I have reasons to believe that, had I been the detective, more than a half of people would have survived’.

‘Why don’t you try being the detective then?’ Sebastian winked in his direction making Ciel’s heart skip a beat ‘Since you are our special guest tonight, my Lord, it would be fitting for you to be the main actor in this game. Though, it might be more interesting to switch game…it is a guessing game, I am thinking of, you will need to leave the room for a bit and then return after a short while. In this time, we will come up with a very simple story which then you’ll need to figure out by asking questions. Is that clear enough?’

Ciel looked at him, unsure if he liked the idea or not. ‘Fine,’ he finally said rising from his seat. ‘I shall allow you to play one turn of this game’. He left the main area where the others were staying and went to pour himself a glass of that dark liquid. As soon as his lips touched it he realised it was alcohol, port probably. Shrugging his shoulders he drank it anyway, thinking he was going to need it for the rest of what seemed to be a long evening.

A few seconds later Sebastian called him back and sitting on his chair he started questioning.

‘Are we in my house?’

There was a choral yes. ‘Mm, is the story about me?’

‘Yes’. Some of them laughed, which caused Ciel to feel irritated.

‘Did you come up with something funny?’

‘More or less…’ said Lau, a smile on his lips.

‘Am I doing something in particular?’

‘Denfintely not,’ said Mey-Rin, adjusting her lenses.

‘Am I alive?’ he asked, glancing at Sebastian.

‘Yes, very much my Lord,’ was Sebastian’s reply.

‘Am I working?’ Ciel was already getting tired.

‘No’.

‘Would I want to be working?’

‘No’.

‘Is there anything I want to do?’

‘Yes’. Lizzie changed her position to better adjust on her seat.

Ciel scratched his head. What would I want to do if I were in my manor, not working? ‘Is it day?’ he asked.

‘Not really,’ was the unclear reply.

‘Am I asleep?’

‘No, surely not’.

‘Am I eating a cake?’ he attempted, not expecting a positive answer.

‘Yes, a very big one’. Bard said rising his thumb.

‘And I assume there must be tea…?’

‘Your favourite blend,’ replied Tanaka.

‘So to recap, I am in my house drinking tea and eating cake, while not working. Sounds legitimate, and boring. Sebastian, I thought this would play out more interesting then describing my morning breakfast, or afternoon snack’.

‘My lord, why do you assume the story is ended?’

‘Oh is there more?’ the child asked.

‘Yes’ again they all replied together.

‘I…does something happen while I eat the cake?’

‘Yes’.

‘Is this something related to fire?’ he didn’t know why he had thought of fire, but then again the answer surprised him.

‘Yes,’ Elizabeth shifted in her seat again.

‘Is the fire, say, affecting me?’ It surely must be…

‘It is, oh my god Ciel!’ the young Lady stared at him as if she was seeing his little body wrapped in flames. Sebastian licked his lips. Ciel gulped and went on. ‘Was the fire accidental?’

‘No, sadly not,’ Lau shook his head.

‘Was the fire started by one of my employee?’

‘Yes, dreadful. Such a shame for us!’ said Bard.

Ciel nodded, taking in the information. ‘Was it Sebastian?’

‘My Lord, why would you think so badly of me?’

‘Was it you, Sebastian?’

‘It was not me, you can rest peacefully now,’ the butler bowed before him, hand on his chest.

Ciel’s teeth gritted. ‘Did it happen because of the cake?’

‘Yes, unfortunately’.

‘So, was it Bard?’

The cook looked shocked his Lord would suspect him. ‘Not a chance’.

‘Finnian?’ Ciel turned to the gardener.

‘Not me, for Master Ciel…I would never…’ the boy left the room, overwhelmed by his emotions.

Ciel sighed, ‘Mey-Rin?’

‘N-no…’ she adjusted her glasses again, her face a deep red.

‘Then that leaves you, Tanaka’. The Earl simply stated.

‘Hohoho, young Earl, you surprise me. Yes indeed it was my fault’.

‘Was it because of the tea as well?’

‘No, tea was fine’.

‘Was the cake fine?’

‘Yes’.

So what the hell went wrong? Did he fall asleep? ‘Did you fall asleep, Tanaka?’

‘My old age is to blame for that, my Lord’.

Another sigh from Ciel. ‘Are you involved, Soma?’

‘I am afraid, I am. I'm so sorry Ciel…’ the prince was on the verge of tears.

‘I suppose Agni is too…?’ he looked at the ex-monk.

‘I am, sadly so’.

‘Lau, you couldn’t possibly be involved, could you?’

‘Indeed my little Earl I am,’ said the man wrapped in smoke.

‘I almost expect you too to be in some obscure way involved in this, Lizzie,’ Ciel added.

‘I am, Ciel, but I love you so much…’ she attempted to hug him, without success.

‘So somehow Tanaka manages to start a fire, because he fell asleep and everyone here except for Sebastian, Bard and Finny is involved. Also the main cause is the cake, tea was fine though,’ he said crossing his legs. ‘A very difficult riddle indeed’. His hands where clasped together in front of his face as he spoke so.

‘Sebastian get me a glass of Port, I feel like I need it’.

‘My Lord, you shouldn’t drink at such young age…’

‘It is my birthday today, isn’t it? I might as well do as I wish. Now get me the port. That’s an order,’ he said with authority.

‘Yes, my Lord,’ the butler bowed before moving away.

‘Now then, back to the cake. Was the cake ready when the fire started?’

‘No’.

Then how the hell was I eating the cake…this makes no sense at all. Still he continued, ‘Did Bard make the cake?’

‘Yes’.

‘Then, was Tanaka the one supposed to supervise you?’ he asked directly to Bard.

‘Yes, he was’.

‘But he fell asleep, so…did Mey-Rin help you?’

‘She did,’ Bard confirmed.

‘Bocchan, your Port’.

Ciel grabbed the glass an slowly drank from it, noting how Lau had gotten one for himself. ‘It is unclear to me how you would have gotten involved. Wasn’t Mey-Rin supposed to be doing housework anyway?’

‘You could say so’.

‘Were you doing the laundry?’

‘Not really…’

‘Ironing clothes, perhaps with hot instruments which are unsafe?’ he tried to wrack his brain to find a possible plausible cause, ignoring Sebastian’s annoying smirk.

‘Yes,’ the maid confirmed.

‘Ah…I see’. He sipped the Port adding, ‘Did Bard ask you to hand him the heated tool at any time?’

‘He did,’ Mey-Rin voice was a bit too high as she replied.

What the hell was he going to do with an iron? Iron the cake? ‘Did you iron the cake?’

‘I did,’

‘AHAHAH,’ Soma burst out in a laugh, unable to contain himself. ‘I'm sorry, Ciel, this has become so funny.

‘Indeed,’ the Earl coldly replied. ‘Did you and Agni suggest him this idea?’ it sounds about right.

‘Yup, we did’.

‘Was it because it would have reminded you of some strange curry?’

‘In some ways…’ Agni said with an uncertain look.

‘And Lau,’ Ciel turned his gaze, ‘Did you put something into Tanaka’s tea?’

‘I did, how perspicacious of you Earl,’ the man bowed.

‘Ah-ah. I knew I was close to discovering the truth,’ Ciel said with a triumphant look. ‘Lizzie, did you say that you were involved perhaps because you came to my manor, uninvited, unexpected and rushed to the kitchen causing Bard to get a little too distracted with his work and use the iron to set fire to the cake?’

‘That’s exactly it, Ciel’ she blushed while saying so, a smile hidden behind her hands.

‘Very well. Is there anything more I need to ask?’

‘No, there isn’t’.

Ciel straightened his back, ‘To sum up, I was going to eat cake and tea, when Lau gave Tanaka some sleeping stuff and Tanaka fell asleep, failing to watch over Bard, who was advised by Soma and Agni to use an iron to make my cake. Of course, Mey-Rin thought it would be wise to give him the tools for destruction and furthermore, Lizzie came at the right moment to set my house on fire…very interesting indeed’.

‘Ahahah’ Everyone laughed at this, the Earl excluded. ‘It was all a fake Ciel…’

‘I know it was, it was a story after all,’ Ciel said annoyed.

‘Even the story…there was no story, you made it up,’ replied Lau.

‘What?’ Ciel was confused.

‘Allow me to explain, Bocchan. When you left we decided a simple rule to answer yes or no to questions. Yes was for questions ending in a vowel, no for questions in a consonant and mid-way for a “y”. So you made up the story,’ Sebastian smirked.

The Earl’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘Oh,’ was all he said.

‘Ciel, let’s dance,’ he was grabbed by a smiling Lizzie, ‘You promised’.

‘Wait Lizzie…’

It was too late though. A violin had appeared in Sebastian’s hands out of the blue and music was already playing. The Earl was forced to dance, against his will. Swirling around, his head started spinning, also due to Port. After two dances he couldn’t take it anymore and walked over the seating place and slumped himself on a chair. ‘Ciel! You can’t leave me like this’ protested Lady Midford but he was deaf to her dull cries. All he wanted now was to rest.

‘My Lord, if I might suggest, you should open the gifts they gave you’.

At this Ciel jumped up. Gifts? I don’t want any…

‘Yes, let’s see what we got you,’ said Lau.

Everyone gathered around Ciel, including Finnian who had returned to the room. The child felt the impulse to run away and hide from their gazes but resisted and with a straight face went to open the first pack. It was a collection of tea bags, carefully selected and a on a small piece of paper he read “May these bags bring peace to your mind, my Young Lord, as I continue to serve the Phantomhive house, for as long as I live. Tanaka”

Not too bad… he moved on to the next one, Mey-Rin and Finnian’s one apparently. It was a strange wooden sculpture, dressed up in badly knitted clothes. He didn’t even try to seem pleased and they must have seen the frown on his face because Finnian started crying.

Suddenly someone crashed through the window. A swirl of red, a red coat and a scythe. A reaper was in his house. Somebody screamed behind him as a wide grin spread on the newly arrived guest. Sebastian’s eyes glowed, a silent warning for the death god. ‘Sebby-chan. How stunning you look in that outfit!’

‘This is my normal outfit, Grell. May I enquire as to why didn’t you enter the room from the main door?’

‘But then, where would have the scenic appearance gone to?’ As Grell winked at him, Finnian ran away, fear written all over his face. ‘Oh, did I do something wrong?’ the reaper said.

‘Nothing you should concern yourself with,’ replied Ciel. ‘Why are you here?’

‘To wish you well and to see my Sebastian of course’.

Sebastian turned away, his face showing disgust.

‘Who is he, Ciel?’ asked Lizzie.

‘An old acquaintance…I think it’s become quite late, you should go soon’ he added.

‘But you haven’t opened my present yet!’ she protested.

‘I will soon’. The child resumed opening the packed stuff in front of him. The next one contained a clay statue with a rosary around its neck. It was from Soma and Agni, ‘With the hope that it will protect you and your young spirit’. Agni saluted him with a payer and Soma hugged him before walking out of the manor.

‘Lizzie, which one is yours?’

‘This one,’ she showed it to him. As he opened it, his heart raced. ‘Mm, what is it Young Earl?’ Lau spied from above his shoulder. It was a fine sword, of good quality as well. He didn’t take it out of the sheath, but could tell it was a valuable present. A “thank you” escaped his lips and the girl blushed. ‘Well, then I think I’ll take my leave. It has been a fun night Ciel. Good night’.

As she was leaving, Sebastian accompanied her to the door and welcomed another unexpected guest. ‘Evening Earl’.

‘Undertaker, I was not expecting to see you here. Have you finished playing with your dolls?’ his tone was not warm at all.

‘Not quite, but tonight they rest while you are here, full of life…’ suddenly he was behind Ciel, ‘How does it feel, losing another year of your life, getting closer and closer to the day when I will finally place you into one of my personalised coffins…’

‘I would appreciate,’ Sebastian interrupted him, taking his hand away from Ciel’s shoulder, ‘If you didn’t touch my Master’. Red glowed into the Butler’s eyes.

Ciel coughed to attract the others’ attention. He opened the last pack, which contained a series of scandalous items he thought well to dispose of as quickly as possible. ‘Those are for now…or when you grow up a bit more, Earl,’ commented Lau. ‘I must leave now, business awaits me, ah’.

‘Sebastian you can show him the way out…Bard, weren’t you talking about a present for me’.

‘Erm…I tried to…not sure…a cake…it didn’t…’

‘At least my house has not burned yet,’ the Earl sarcastically commented. ‘I’ll have a bite, I feel brave enough’.

‘S-sure…’

Five minutes later Ciel was struggling to swallow the driest cake he had ever tasted. It was so difficult he almost choked on it before Sebastian sent away the cook and his cake recommending him to never try again.

‘S-sebastian…water’.

‘Bocchan, I told you it didn’t seem a great idea to eat that thing,’ the demon’s eyes were narrow.

‘Sebby, would you not leave with me for a night of fire?’ Grell asked with dreamy eyes.

‘I am afraid my night is already booked. I have to attend to my Master’s every wish and cannot leave the manor at this time’.

‘Seriously, you need a break from your job. Well, do come and find me when you’re free…I’ll be waiting for you,’ the reaper said while leaving through the same window they had shattered before.

‘You’re the only one left, Undertaker. For some reason I feel you might want to give me a present,’ Ciel said looking at the dark figure on his left.

‘Hihihi, indeed I do, Earl,’ the once-reaper giggled, ‘It’s something you might find useful in the future, when your most important date comes…’

‘If it’s one of your coffins then I decline’.

‘It’s not,’ Undertaker said.

‘Oh?’ Ciel’s surprise showed on his face.

‘It’s a suit, for a dead man that is, ahah’ the dark man laughed his head off at the expression on the Earl’s face.

‘I don’t think I would enjoy it as a present’.

‘Too bad, too bad Earl, for your death might come earlier than you think’.

‘Sebastian, would you kindly see Undertaker off, I'm rather tired, I think I’ll go upstairs,’ the Earl said.

‘Of course my Lord,’ the butler replied with a bow.

Ciel walked towards the stairs while he heard Undertaker’s laugh behind him as he left the house. It was truly late and his birthday was almost over.

Notes:

Originally I had meant for this story to be shorter and include a sex scene between Sebastian and Ciel. However, I then realized that I didn’t want to move this fanfic to the mature section and published the second chapter as a one shot under the name “Happy birthday, Bocchan: His butler’s present”. If you are interested look for it on my profile.

Warning: it contains explicit yaoi content and a bit of blood/violence.

Series this work belongs to:

← Previous Work Part 4 of Kuroshitsuji Next Work →

#black butler fanfiction

[buckleyblueyes]

anon! I got your prompt and I love it!! 

#rubs my little gay hands together #will post the fic as a response to the ask #it may take some time for me to actually write it #but I will get it done eventually #(I've got some crazy personal shit going on next week that's gonna take me away from my writing)

[arrowflier]

Fic prompt: How do people who tangentially know Ian react when Gay Jesus goes viral? Do they reach out to Ian/the Gallaghers? Lip's college friends, Milkovich cousins, ROTC classmates, Kash and Linda ... Is Gus Pfender telling someone Gay Jesus was his brother-in-law for 4 seconds? :D

I Heard it Through the Grapevine

“This is a pretty new one,” Gus Pfender said into the mic, sitting onstage at a little bar on the outskirts of New York City. “About a girl I knew a while back. A girl that was totally crazy, you all know the type.” He paused and waited for the knowing laughter to die down.

“No, but really though, she was!” he continued, idly tapping on the neck of his guitar as he talked. “She got me to marry her and everything, then slept with her ex, then tried to marry some other guy before we were even separated! Can you believe that?”

The laughter was more awkward that time, but he didn’t notice.

“Anyway, turns out she came by crazy honestly, runs in the family or something.” Even his band mates were starting to get a little antsy behind him, but he wasn’t quite done throwing his ex under the metaphorical bus.

“Yeah, get this—her little brother started a cult, called himself Gay Jesus or somethin’. Just saw him on the news—he blew up a van!” Gus laughed so hard he almost fell off his stool, but the audience was quiet.

The drummer cleared his throat behind him, and Gus finally got with the program, righting himself and coughing into the mic before saying, “Anyway, here it is; sing along loud if you know it, maybe she’ll hear us all the way back in Chicago.”

And he launched into the opening chords of “Fuck You Fiona”.

In the audience, Mandy Milkovich straightened up at the first round of Fiona’s name echoing around the dimly lit room. Her date—well, her client—touched her arm, and she jerked away before she could remember herself. Remember that she was supposed to like being touched, now.

“Sorry,” she simpered at the short older man, putting her hand on his when he let it fall to the table between them. “You just surprised me, hun.”

She smiled at him sweetly, pressing her tongue to the back of her teeth until it hurt. “Be right back,” she promised him quickly, before standing and grabbing her purse from the back of her chair. “Just need to go freshen up for you.”

She cringed as she said it, but it had the desired effect, the man just waving her away as he turned his attention back to the stage just in time for the rousing chorus of “fuck you”.

As soon as the bathroom door slammed shut behind her, Mandy was leaning over the sink, breathing heavily. Chicago. Fiona. Crazy family. Little brother.

Ian.

She fumbled in her purse for her phone, a sleek black thing that one of her more dedicated clients had bought for her. She swiped past the homescreen that he had set to a picture of the two of them, and opened up her browser.

Ian Gallagher she typed in, holding her breath as the results of the search loaded.

It came out in a single whoosh when she saw it, leaving her limp against the dirty porcelain.

Chicago’s Ian ‘Gay Jesus’ Gallagher Charged with Arson and Destruction of Property read the very top headline. Mandy skimmed the rest through the tears that filled her eyes, not daring to let them fall.

Ian Gallagher, middle child of six, pled guilty by reason of insanity at his trial last week, claiming his unmedicated bipolar disorder was the reason for his irrational behavior.

Oh god, Ian.

Last time she saw him, Ian had his shit together. He had a job, and a boyfriend, and he was taking his meds, and he kept her calm and helped her deal with a fucking body and gave her a place to stay for the night. What had happened since then? How had things gone so wrong for him again?

She didn’t know. She needed to know. She needed to know that he was okay.

Mandy bit her lip, mind racing as she considered her options. None of them were good. Mickey was gone. She didn’t speak to the rest of her family. She could call Iggy, or Colin she supposed, but she wasn’t even sure they weren’t in jail themselves. Besides, if they weren’t, she didn’t want Terry overhearing.

With shaking hands, she dialed a number she had been pretending she didn’t know, instead. A number that she had been trying her best to forget.

Phillip Gallagher picked up on the very first ring.

“Yeah, alright. No, I know, Mandy. Don’t worry, I’ll keep you posted.”

Lip sighed as he pressed the end call button, rubbing a hand over his face. Joaquin, sitting next to him, blew a stream of smoke in Lip’s face until he straightened again, coughing.

“The hell was that for, asshole?” he asked, waving the smoke away. “You know how much shit I’m gonna get if Tami smells that on me?”

Joaquin snorted. “Still can’t believe you shacked up with your baby-mamma, man,” he teased. “You have a kid now, what the fuck?”

“Yeah, well,” Lip muttered, reaching over to steal the joint right out of his hand despite his warnings about the smell. “A lot of things have changed since the last time I saw you.”

No shit. The last time Joaquin had seen Lip Gallagher, he’d been helping him steal money from the high-end startup Lip was working for. Then he’d just disappeared, only to wander into the little cafe where Joaquin liked to take lunch just a few days ago. They’d been catching up a little bit each day since, but Joaquin’s head was still spinning trying to equate this short-haired, run-down family man with the brilliant guy he knew back in the day.

“So, who was that?” Joaquin pried. “Who’s Mandy? You two-timing your girl already, Gallagher?”

“Fuck no,” Lip exclaimed, nearly spitting out the joint. Joaquin snatched it back immediately—the Gallagher he knew never would have risked the good stuff like that.

“No,” Lip repeated more calmly. “I uh, used to date her,” he revealed. “Before I knew you. But that was a long time ago.”

Joaquin nodded. “So what’s she callin’ you for then?”

Lip rubbed at his lip—Joaquin giggled in his head at that thought—and went quiet for a long moment. Joaquin just sat by him and smoked, content to wait it out.

“She was asking about my brother,” Lip answered finally. “They were friends.”

“Which brother?” Joaquin questioned. “The janitor, or the crazy one?”

Lip eyed him oddly. “The janitor is the crazy one,” he said, but Joaquin shook his head.

“No, no,” he rambled, “the little guy, the one you thought was dealin’.”

“Carl?” Lip clarified, and laughed, fingers picking idly at the knee of his jeans. “Nah, Carl’s actually doin’ alright now, I think. It’s Ian. The one you met.”

“What’s goin’ on with him?”

Lip hesitated, and then, “You heard about Gay Jesus?” he asked, and Joaquin felt his eyes go wide. He almost dropped the joint himself this time.

“No way,” he breathed out. “That was him?” He gestured wildly. “With the kids, and the cult, and the van?”

“That was him,” Lip confirmed grimly. “Off his meds, we think. That’s what he says, at least.”

Joaquin whistled, and handed the joint back. “Think you need this more than me right now,” he said.

Lip didn’t disagree when he took it.

Linda looked up when a stranger entered her store, then promptly rolled her eyes and went back to her magazine. The kids were with the sitter and the store was practically empty, so there was no reason not to take some time for herself for once. A single stoner wandering around the aisles wasn’t that much of a concern.

Still, she kept an eye on him as he poked through what they had to offer. He wasn’t bad looking, despite his floppy hair and red-rimmed eyes—reminded her a little bit of a young Kash, even.

She promptly hated herself for thinking of her absent, no-good husband, and hated the stranger in the store for making her do it.

So when he finally came to the counter, holding two bags of chips and a Red Bull, she might have been just a tad ruder than normal.

“Put it on the counter,” she ordered gruffly when he just stood there, staring into space.

“Whoa, yeah, sorry, sorry,” he rambled, doing as he was bid. “Just came from visiting a buddy, guess I left my mind behind a bit, huh?” He giggled. A grown man just giggled in her store.

“Maybe you know them, the Gallaghers?” He continued while she rang him up. Her hands barely paused when she heard the name. That was a long time ago, and they didn’t come here anymore.

The stoner was still talking, though. “Man they’ve had some bad luck, you know?” He shook his head. “First with Lip’s stuff, now his brother again?”

Linda stilled, bag of chips still in hand.

“Which brother?” she asked despite herself. She shouldn’t care, but somehow she still did. That little shit had stolen her husband, got his boyfriend shot in her store, and bailed on her with no warning, but when he had been there, he had been good to her. Helped her run the store, even helped her with the kids if she begged. She’d been sad to hear it when he went off the rails, but the rumor around town was that he was doing better, now.

“The crazy red-haired one,” the stoner answered, and she guessed a rumor was all it had been. “They call him Gay Jesus now, he blew up a van and everything.”

“Ten seventy-five,” she told him, not commenting any more on the topic. It wasn’t her business.

But as the stranger walked out the door, leaving her to her magazine again, she considered sending some sort of basket to the Gallagher house. For old time’s sake.

She was so caught up in her thoughts, she didn’t even notice the bell over the door ring a second time as someone else hurried out.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Iggy Milkovich muttered to himself as he rushed off down the street away from the Kash’N’Grab, forgetting to even steal anything in his hurry.

Ian fucking Gallagher. Gay fucking Jesus. How had nobody around him seen that coming?

Iggy remembered when Ian was living with them, before he went crazy the first time. Or while he went crazy the first time? Who fucking knew, that kid was always off the rails if he thought taking up with Iggy’s kid brother right under Terry’s nose was a good fucking idea.

But there was that one time, when things were mostly still going good, when he remembered hearing Mickey talk to his boy about crashing some funeral. A funeral for a fairy soldier that Ian knew when he was going by his brother’s name out at bootcamp. They’d come home from that thing with Ian practically vibrating, bouncing off the walls with fury at the protest they had wandered into, and he had seen the way it made Mickey freak out.

Mickey was in Mexico now. Iggy knew that. Everybody fucking knew that, even if they pretended they didn’t. And it was a bad fucking idea for him to find out about this, for so many reasons.

But Iggy couldn’t do that to his brother. He couldn’t hide something like this. And if Mickey found out some other way, from someone else…well. There was no saying what stupid shit that fucker might do.

So when he got home, he hit the bong to calm his racing heart. Then he picked up the phone, and dialed a number he wasn’t supposed to know.

“Yeah, thanks Ig,” Mickey said into his burner phone. “I already knew.”

His partner for the day, some new cartel wannabe that got paired up with the Gringo to see how he managed the streets, gave him a weird look as he shoved the phone into the pocket of his jeans.

“Who was that?” the burly man asked, voice rough, and Mickey rolled his eyes.

“Your girlfriend,” he answered dryly. “Wanted to know if I had dropped your ass in the grave yet so we can go fuck in peace.”

The idiot looked like he actually believed it, and Mickey snorted.

“A fuckin’ contact, okay?” he revealed. “And none of your fuckin’ business ‘til you manage to climb the ladder past ‘basic bitch errand boy’, so get the shit and let’s get movin’.”

At least the moron followed instructions.

Mickey wiped a hand over his face while the other man’s back was turned, gathering himself. It was confirmed, then. First by those weird-ass rainbow shirts, and now by Iggy, who wouldn’t lie to him about something like that. Ian Gallagher had gotten himself in trouble, and Mickey wasn’t there to save him this time.

He sighed as his partner came back with the rest of the goods, and they set off to a new position on the next corner.

One way or another, it looked like Mickey Milkovich was going back to Chicago.

#this one was really fun #thanks for the cool idea! #forgot the ROTC kids though #daily speedwrite #gay jesus #ian gallagher #gus pfender #mandy milkovich #lip gallagher #joaquin #linda karib #iggy milkovich #mickey milkovich #lots of mentions of the exploding van #not sure how to warn for that but I know somebody asked for warnings for car crashes and car accidents and this might count

[a-froger-epic]

Get out your glitter leotards and pour some champagne in your cat mugs! 🥂 🍾 It’s time to celebrate Freddie! 🎉😸

🎊 Freddie Mercury Weekend 2021 🎊

❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜

ABOUT THE EVENT

This weekend is a content creation event in honour of the man himself, the legend we all love, Freddie Mercury! Once more, everyone who is inspired by Freddie is invited to share their creativity with the fandom. You can write, draw, edit, record, even cross-stitch 😉 content for absolutely anything related to Freddie, any ship, any genre, any way you like. This is an indiscriminately inclusive, positive event. Everyone is welcome, there is no wrong way to be a fan of Freddie! (Except convincing yourself you're dating his ghost maybe. That's pretty wrong. And weird. Don't do that.)

WHEN? On the 21st, 22nd and 23rd of May.

HOW? On the above dates (or after!), post your contributions to the AO3 collection or alternatively on Tumblr, tagged ‘#fmw2021’ or/and ‘#freddie mercury weekend 2021’. If you post on Tumblr, please also tag @a-froger-epic to make sure you get a reblog from me!

❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜

THE PROMPTS

You can be as free with the prompts as you like. They are here to inspire, there is no wrong way to write them! Change them around, mix them up, make them fem!Freddie, A/B/O, add your favourite ship. Anything goes! 😊

21st of May - 500-1000 word challenge!

We’re kicking off the event with ficlets and drabbles. First time writer just testing the waters? No need for an epic, just write a scene! No time to write but you want to participate? Surely you’ll find time for 500 words! 😉 Interpret these mini-prompts however you like (every one is a separate prompt, but you can combine them!):

Make-Up 💄   |   Pain/Pleasure 👀

Strip 👕   |   Ring 💍

Forbidden 🤫   |   Delilah 🐈

Piano 🎹   |   Dormitory 🛏 

Outrageous 🎉   |   Contentment 😌

Come Together 🎇   |   Ballet 🩰

Piece of Art 🎨   |   Leather 🧥

Cockring 🐔   |   Kimono 👘

Petals 🌸   |   Leotard 🕺🏻

Mustache 🧔   |   Last Time 😔

22nd of May - Is This The Real Life? 

A list of real event/canon timeline prompts from Freddie’s life. How real you want to keep them, however, is entirely up to you!

Down in flames

Freddie is 16 years old when he leaves boarding school. Does it have something to do with the school gardener, Sanjay? Did he flunk his exams or did he not even sit them? Is one thing connected to the other? Does he really find a boyfriend when he goes to stay with his aunt in Mumbai (then Bombay)? Either way, there’s the small matter of his parents finding out about all of it... (Sources: x x )

When Freddie met Kenny

Freddie is a guest on Kenny Everett's radio show in spring 1974. Freddie is living with Mary, Kenny is married. Two gay men, deep in the closet. To no one's surprise, they hit it off immediately. (Source: x )

But when did he? 

At some point during his relationship with Mary, prior to his relationship with David, Freddie had already begun sleeping with men. But how and when did that first happen? Cottaging in London? On tour somewhere in the world? Your guess is as good as ours… 

Flying High

Sex, Drugs and Rock n' Roll. Like all rock bands of their time, Queen doesn’t escape the copious amounts of cocaine in the entertainment industry for long. Somewhere on tour in America, perhaps, Freddie is first introduced to it. Where? How? 

Hide your tears

Jim said that he tried to be strong for Freddie and only cried in private, so as not to burden Freddie with his feelings. But this time, he is found. 

One-liners:

In 1969, Freddie doesn’t know how to cook an egg and neither does Roger (Source: x )

In 1977, Freddie meets Joe while on tour in Boston and starts dating him behind David's back

In 1990, Brian and Freddie work on 'The Show Must Go On' (Source: x )

In a year of your choice, Jim reminisces about his fondest moment(s) with Freddie

In 1976, Freddie and Mary end their relationship 

In 1984, Winnie gives Freddie a wedding ring (middle of the post: x )

In the late 60s, Freddie agrees to model for an Ealing Art School fashion show, but panics and flees the runway (Source: x )

In 1974, Freddie is strip-searched upon arrival in Australia (Source: x )

In 1982, Freddie and Roger go shopping in Amsterdam (Source: x )

In 1978, Freddie swings from a chandelier - naked (Source: x )

23rd of May - Is It Just Fantasy?

A list of AU prompts to spark your imagination. Take them and run with them or change them up, just have fun!

Make your dreams come true

Freddie hasn't been very fortunate in his life, until he finds a very special oil lamp, and rubs it just the right way. 

Beautiful stranger

Freddie meets an alluring stranger at a masquerade ball, who has more secrets than he can hide behind a mask. But Freddie has some of his own. 

Thicker than water 

Freddie agrees to a dreadful fate in order to save his little sister from the very same. Fortunately, he has friends who are more than willing to help him, but can they? Or are they, too, in danger?

Diamonds are a boy's best friend

Freddie is the prized jewel of the court, a skilled belly-dancer and entertainer, but he may also be plotting murder and getting away with it. 

Almost Real

In a distant future, humans have all but done away with face to face interaction. Humanity largely lives online. Children grow up isolated and live with only their families well into young adulthood. Cybersex is the new normal, although some families take a puritanical approach for fear of addiction. One day, impossibly, a real life young man falls through the containment field in Freddie’s back garden. 

One-liners:

This plane is going to crash (Freddie knew there was a reason he hated flying) 

Shipwrecked on an island (Freddie could never bear to be alone, but luckily/unfortunately for him…) 

Hunger Games AU (Freddie is so dead) 

A terrible road accident (Everyone is so dead, or are they?) 

Blind Date AU (Freddie's best friend is so dead for setting him up with this person… or are they…) 

Bank robbery (but who are the robbers and who are the hostages?) 

Magic AU ("Yer a wizard, Freddie!")

Film Noir AU (Secrets and cigarette holders) 

Interior Design AU (Does the carpet match the drapes?)

The Bodyguard AU (“And I will always love yooouuuu…”)

❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜

RULES & FAQ

⛔ Strictly No Hate ⛔

This is the NUMBER ONE RULE of the event, to ensure that everybody feels safe. No rudeness, provocations or hate aimed at creators or other commenters will be permitted, not on AO3 nor Tumblr.

Follow these steps if you receive a comment or ask that distresses you:

Do not engage. (You can take a screenshot as proof.)

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Alert me ( @a-froger-epic ) or @aboutnothingness, who is lending me a hand to make sure all needs are attended, all questions are answered and everything runs smoothly. We are here to actively support you. We’ve got your back, and we will gladly talk to you and help you feel better.

If you choose to ignore this rule, your work may be removed from the event. We would hate to resort to that.

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Can the thing that upset you be tagged, but it wasn’t? Then please inform @a-froger-epic or @aboutnothingness, and we will bring it to the creator’s attention. (Remember to use the appropriate tags, everybody!)

Was the thing that upset you already tagged? Or is it perhaps simply the characterisation you find disagreeable? Then we suggest you click on the ‘back’ button, take a deep breath and remind yourself it's just fanfic.

Who can participate?

Anyone who is inspired by Freddie Mercury in any way shape or form. This event is open to all.

Can I combine prompts from different days?

By all means! We look forward to your futuristic Freddie-gets-kicked-out-of-boarding-school Maycury Film Noir AU. With leotards. Go crazy.

I'm not sure where my creation fits in, what day do I post it? 

The days, like the prompts, are only suggestions. We don't mind when you post it, as long as you post it! Even if it's two weeks late! 

Help, I've never posted fic before! 

Don't worry, we've got you! (And more importantly, we've got AO3 invites!) @aboutnothingness is more than happy to walk you through the process of setting up an account and is also offering her services as a beta.

I’m still too nervous to participate!

You can post anonymously to the collection. You can disable anon comments on your work. You can disable comments entirely and just collect the kudos. You can close anon asks on Tumblr temporarily. But most importantly, we are here for you and we want you here!

❤️ 🧡 💛 💚 💙 💜

“I love the fact that I make people happy, in any form. Even if it’s just half an hour of their lives, in any way that I can make them feel lucky or make them feel good, or bring a smile to a sour face, that to me is worthwhile.”

- Freddie Mercury

#Freddie Mercury Weekend 2021 #FMW2021 #freddiemercuryweekend2021 #fandom event #Queen fandom #Freddie Mercury #it's here! #REBLOG REBLOG REBLO-

[shyvioletcat]

I have no idea if you’ve seen NCIS: LA, but they have an episode just like your fic Treacherous of two agents posing as a married couple in the suburbs!! It’s season 3 episode 22 for reference!

Prompt based on that: A comes home and sees blood, panics and follows the trail thinking B has been hurt/killed. Carefully pushes the door open and finds A has simply cut their foot and didn’t hear B

I have watched some and I did go looking for this episode but came up bust in my search. It could have provided some good inspiration I’m sure. We all love a good fake relationship.

*EDIT: TAGLIST DONE. Sorry if you’ve already seen it and are getting the notification.*

Treacherous Masterlist

~~~~~

Grabbing the shopping bags out of the boot of the car Rowan swept his foot under it to activate the automatic close, all the while suppressing a yawn. He was dead tired. Aelin had gotten her revenge after the pen incident, setting an alarm clock in his room to wake him up at exactly 3:47. The damned thing hadn’t been within reach so he had to get out of bed to turn it off. And from copious missions together Aelin knew once he was up, he was up so he’d hadn’t bothered to try and get back to sleep. Knowing her she might have set others up in the room anyway, even if he had tried to sleep again paranoia would have kept him awake. All the while she slept blissfully across the hall.

Being just the two of them in the house they hadn’t bothered to keep up the bed sharing part of the charade. They slept in separate rooms and thank the gods for that. If he didn’t have that space to himself he might have never been able to get away from her and have some quiet. Aelin seemed to fill every room she was in and it was suffocating for him… most of the time. She had a way with people he had admired at times, it was what made her such a good agent, especially when undercover. Not that he would ever tell her any of that. No need to inflate her already insufferable ego.

When he had grumpily asked her over his third cup of coffee why she’d chosen 3:47 exactly she’d smiled at him, bright and cheery as ever after sleeping in until 8 o’clock, and alluded to some lockeroom talk she’d heard about certain measurements—in millimetres. When he had rolled his eyes she had gone on to clarify she was talking about 30 and not just 3 he’d promptly left the room, well and truly done with her immaturity. Her laughter had chased him out.

Shifting the shopping bags so he could open the back door, Rowan entered the kitchen expecting to find Aelin in there preparing the food for the ridiculous party tomorrow while listening to some obnoxious music very loudly just to piss him off. But she wasn’t, in fact the house was silent.

“Aelin,” he called, stepping around the length of the counter.

That was when he saw the blood.

Rowan dropped the bags, things crushing on impact. The blood pooled in one spot, then splatters made a path across the tiles. He didn’t have a gun on him, but there were enough stashed around the house and he found one in a low kitchen drawer. It was pointed and ready in moments and Rowan made sure he didn’t disturb the blood on the linoleum floor.

“Aelin,” he called again. “Agent Galathynius.”

Still silence. He followed the trail of blood towards the small bathroom that was on the bottom level, his heart pounding in his ears. There wasn’t enough that the situation looked dire, but the assailant may have dragged her off to another location, hidden away from windows. Why hadn’t the team been alerted to anything? Where was the back-up? Panic started to fill him, but his training kept it under control. If something had happened to Aelin…

He shook his head to shake out the thought. She was a perfectly capable agent, one of the best. Rowan was overreacting and he needed to calm down. A deep breath in and he nudged the door, when there was no reaction he kicked it open, gun ready. Eyes darting around the room, his gun dropped to the side when he took in the scene before him.

Aelin was seated on the floor, holding wads of toilet paper on a wound on her foot, wincing from what he gathered to be pain. She hadn’t noticed his entrance and was still focused on her foot.

“Aelin,” Rowan said, but got no response, so he tried a little louder. “Aelin.”

She jumped looking up at him. “Why do you have a gun?”

“Did you not hear me calling out?” Rowan asked, putting the safety back on the gun.

Aelin took small earbuds out of her ears. “What?”

Rowan rubbed a hand over his face, panic turned to exasperation. “I called out to you and you didn’t answer.”

“Podcast,” she held up her earbuds in explanation. “But the gun?” Aelin then asked him, her attention going back to her foot.

“The blood trail…” he said but didn’t elaborate.

Aelin straightened where she sat and looked up at him, then laughed. “Did you think I’d been murdered in the bathtub?”

Rowan didn’t answer her question. “Would you mind telling me what happened exactly?”

Aelin sighed. “I was trying to cook and I knocked a knife off the counter and my hands were full so I couldn’t catch it. It nicked my foot and now here we are.”

“Okay,” Rowan said, the adrenaline finally settling and he knelt down to assess the injury.

“What are you doing?” Aelin brows were furrowed in confusion.

“Inspecting the cut, you can’t get at it from the right angle,” Rowan said, turning her foot and earning a hiss.

“I can do it myself,” Aelin said and tried to pull her foot away but Rowan held firm. She relented with an over dramatic sigh and leaned her back on the bathtub.

Aelin had already got down what he needed, so he cleaned the cut up and foot, putting a large bandaid on it to stop the bleeding. “There,” Rowan said succinctly, brushing a thumb unconsciously along Aelin’s arch before letting go, making her suppress a laugh. She was ticklish.

“Hmm,” Aelin said, looking at him curiously.

“What?” Rowan asked, standing and washing his hands. When he turned around to dry his hands on a towel she was still looking at him.

“Careful Whitethorn, someone might think you were concerned for my well-being if they found out about this.”

“Not likely,” Rowan scoffed. “It was the paperwork I was concerned about.”

Aelin snorted and walked past him, Rowan taking a moment before he followed. There had been a moment when… He shook his head. Concern for a partner was only natural, no matter the feelings of enmity between them. The two of them couldn’t stand each other, but that didn’t mean he wanted her hurt or dead. Rowan left the bathroom, headed for the kitchen to put away the groceries when he heard a frustrated exclamation.

“Are you serious, Rowan?”

Any concern he had felt evaporated at Aelin’s tone. Entering the kitchen he found her holding a carton of eggs, leaking yellow and clear goop. They must have cracked when he dropped the bags in his panic at the blood.

“You need to go get more,” she told him, dropping the ruined eggs in the trash.

“No, I am not,” Rowan groaned. He was tired, he didn’t want to take another trip to the grocery store across town.

“Oh, you are. I needed those eggs for the barbecue tomorrow, so because of your overreaction over a little bit of blood I am now eggless,” Aelin explained. There was no answer from him as Aelin unrolled some paper towel to clean up both egg and blood. “Off you go.”

Too tired to fight anymore Rowan just grabbed his keys and left to get more precious eggs.

~~~~~

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