#i want to relearn the joy and what was so special about these characters. even if i get to the awful stuff i still want that magic | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

commander-rahrah · 6 months

Text

Talking to the Moon: Part V

Pairing: Astarion x GN!Reader Word Count: ~6200 Warnings: emotional hurt/comfort, arranged marriage, slight family angst aka daddy issues? I'm terrible at these

archiveofourown: here

masterlist: here

part I: here part II: here part III: here part IV: here

Summary: Set at the end of Act II, after Moonrise Towers and Kethric. Reader/Tav leans on Astarion and reveals more about their family and their story from before the Nautiloid.

Notes: I've emerged from my cave I made on the couch in my basement and finally finished this update! I got bronchitis a week or so ago and it kicked my booty, but I'm finally feeling better!! YAY! I have no voice still, but good thing I don't need that to write fanfiction!

So this update reveals more of our Selune blessed Tav's backstory that is based off my original D&D character. I was really hung up on whether or not I should include more backstory and lore for this GN!Tav/Reader, since it isn't very typical for a lot of the gn!reader fics I've read. But it was giving me such writers block if I did not include it, as I honestly have the rest of this fic completely planned out and the endgame I have for this pairing relies on more of this backstory, so I decided to include it! Also, its my fic… and my character sooo I hope you enjoy my baby and the little story I wrote for them five years ago. This character will have a special place in my heart forever, and I'm excited to share more of them with you all!

I also desperately wanted to include a scene of Astarion and Tav/Reader kissing for the first time since his confession and them setting boundaries about physical intimacy and contact. I know the game just lets you click the kiss option right away, but I like to think its something that Astarion would build himself up to again and would maybe even have to relearn — not kissing like it was a performance, but instead an expression.

Thank you for reading and sharing your thoughts! It means so much to me and every time I see a notification! It fills me with infinite joy ♡♡♡ I know there is lots of posts circulating about this and tags get filled with it, but reblogs and comments are so so appreciated!! :)

·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨:·..·:¨༺ ༻¨

He wasn’t sure how you did it. Astarion was exhausted, beyond that actually — shattered. His feet were stiff and aching, his mind fuzzy with weariness. Yet you were still smiling, accepting the gratitude of every single person at the Last Light Inn with humble nods and smiles. He’d never had a longer day in his life. The temple, the Shadowfell, Shadowheart, Moonrise Towers, the goddamn Absolute. Gale... Gods, you had talked down Gale from fulfilling the desire and demands of an actual goddess. All in one day. All he wanted to do was to fall into a bed with you, and sleep. To just pretend for one moment that there wasn’t any marching armies or impending vampire masters waiting in Baldur's Gate. To ignore the thrum of anxiety and fear that coursed through him as he remembered exactly what was carved into his back — what Raphael had finally revealed to him. Just for today, he had wanted to rest. But no — the end of this never ending day was to finish with a celebration. An annoying, lively celebration. The vampire was being stereotypical as ever — standing in a shadowy corner, moody and silent as he nursed a red glass. It was wine. Gale had found a decadent bottle, buried away and forgotten about on some dusty shelf. The wizard had made an eloquent toast to the group gathered on the bottom floor of the inn. But he was now standing with Wyll — the two of them conversing politely with a pair of obviously flirtatious tieflings. Karlach had her arm wrapped around Damon, the two of them chatting enthusiastically and laughing. Astarion was surprised to not see Shadowheart by Karlach — the two of them inseparable as of late. No, what was more shocking was that the dark-haired cleric was sat next to Lae’zel. Their mouths barely opening as they spoke to each other in low voices, buried under the noise of the celebration in the inn. He almost choked on the sip he had just taken as his red eyes finally returned to you — where several people were forming a makeshift line to speak with you. The next one more bashful than the last as they leaned in to speak with you, all flushed cheeks and batting eyelashes. You always had a certain charm about you, an innate ability to draw out easy smiles and laughs from others. You were also undeniably attractive — anyone who said otherwise would be a blind idiot. But other people being enraptured by you had never bothered him before. He had just silently agreed with them — that yes, you were indeed a prize like no other. But you were his now, weren’t you? As he was yours. Even without the label or words that he still couldn’t figure out how to say. That he was too afraid to say. Regardless, why were you entertaining these fools?

He'd not felt this before — was it jealousy? Gods, he was being like a petulant child who didn't want to share their toy. You were a person, you could make your own decisions. That was the entire point of all of this.

What was he going to do — follow you around like a lost puppy? Drape himself over you, clutch onto you like a coat so others would see he was with you?

You must have felt his red eyes piercing through you as you suddenly flicked your eyes over to meet his gaze. Your face instantly brightened, a smile tugging on your lips. An overwhelming sense of relief went through him as you waved apologetically to the small group in front of you, before weaving your way over to his dark corner.

"Yes, darling?" He drawled as you approached, trying to hide any emotion betraying on his face as he tipped his wine glass in front of it and took another sip.

"Why are you hiding away in this corner? Not feeling like being paraded around like a hero?" You said sarcastically.

Astarion rolled his eyes at you, replying dryly, "I am many things, but a hero, I am not."

You leaned in conspiratorially, lowering your voice until it was just a whisper. "I would beg to differ. But you have a reputation to uphold, don't you?"

He barked out a laugh, before flicking you in the nose gently. "You cheeky pup."

"Ow." You feigned, scrunching your face up at him. "That hurt."

A wave of courage swept through him as he pushed back the little voice in his head. He leaned forward and pecked his lips onto the tip of your nose. He hoped the tingle that spread across his lips as they met your skin would spread to you. It seemed it did as your skin then flashed a delicious, brilliant shade from surprise. A tiny squeak even escaped you, your eyebrows shooting up.

You had not kissed, not since his confession. Not since all of this had started. Not a brush of lips against hands or cheeks, nothing. The look on your face and the sudden increase in the thrum of your heart had him feeling light headed. Did he truly have such an effect on you?

For a moment, he let his gaze from you lapse as he swept his eyes across the inn. To the disappointed glances of a few partygoers, and the knowing looks of his companions, watching the pair of you interact.

A flash of gratification went through him, satisfied at the effect he had not just on you but at those who had eyed you before. It squashed the jealously that had made a pit in his stomach, instead twisting it with a new, slowly recognizable feeling.

"There, all better?" He smirked.

You let out a breathy laugh, nodding at him.

Astarion rubbed his lips together, the tingling sensation on them lingering still. "How much longer does the Hero of the Shadowlands need to stay down here?"

You looked over your shoulder to the gathered patrons, the crowd thinning out more and more as the evening faded into a dark, late night. "Bored already?"

He let out a weary sigh, letting his shoulders droop. "Exhausted, darling. And I know you are too."

You were always a sight to see, holding a beauty he could have never imagined or conjured up in his head. But he could see the purple circles under your eyes, the usual sparkle in them had long gone dull.

Your eyes flickered to your boots, nodding your head in defeat. "You're right."

"I believe they have set some rooms aside for us, if you wish—"

"Do you?" You caught him off, trying to hide your own eagerness.

His gaze softened, a smile tugging on his lips, "Very much so."

The pair of you bid goodnight to your companions quietly, subtle nods and waves as they continued their own conversations or headed to their own rooms. Astarion walked slightly behind you on the stairs, his hand resting gently on the small of your back as you led the way. The path you took was familiar, the worn floor boards creaking before you were outside the private room the two of you had occupied once before.

Astarion let out a sigh of relief as he closed the door softly behind him, the sounds from the lingering party below muffled and leaving you in a peaceful quiet. But as he found reprieve in finally being alone, you suddenly crumbled.

You dived for the bed, a heartbreaking sob escaping you as your hands covered your face.

Your name choked out him before he crossed the room quickly and joined you on the edge of the mattress. Gods, what was it about this Inn and room that had you breaking apart on it? "Darling, what's wrong?" He asked, concern etching every feature.

"I- I, didn't-"

He remembered your words earlier today — gods, was that today? How comforting his touch was for you, being reminded of his presence. He placed his hand carefully on your own that was trembling on your thigh as you tried to speak.

You finally gasped out, "She wasn't there, she wasn't-"

Mol. The little tiefling girl. You had promised those rascal children downstairs you'd find her. And it was you who had told them she wasn't in Moonrise tonight, swallowing deeply as they dipped their heads with disappointment. But you had told them not to give up hope, that she was resourceful and strong. You had sounded so convincing that even he had believed you.

But here you were, sobbing and breaking apart in front of him. "Oh, sweetheart. Gods, I should have seen this, I'm sorry."

You sniffled, glancing up at him with wide eyes. "Why are you apologizing?"

He gave you a sad smile, his eyes shining with understanding, "I know you better by now. It was a mask you were wearing tonight...," He tucked a stray hair back behind your ear. "I hate it when you wear it."

"I just wanted everyone to be okay, I tried so hard..." Your voice cracked and broke.

"You've done so much, darling. Look at what we did today, that was because of you."

You always took care of everyone else. But who took care of you? Astarion thought, perhaps... him. He could… he would.

He had been.

"Oh my little moon, you don't have to carry the world by yourself, you know?"

You sniffled and nodded, silver still lining the bottoms of your eyes.

"May I?" He echoed the question you so often asked of him. You'd never touched him without asking the question first. Your consent you'd granted him was a separate conversation, one where you had told him casual, simple touches were okay. A silent conversation and agreement sometimes was exchanged with a look of your eyes. But with him, you had always asked. He thought that now he would return that favor to you, as you opened yourself to him — vulnerable and upset once again on the edge of this mattress.

He hoped you appreciated the sentiment, as much as he did.

The vampire reached down, hovering his hands over your boots. Your brows furrowed slightly before you were nodding. Your eyes never left his pale fingers as he untied the laces of your boots, gently prying them off before setting them down neatly at the foot of the bed. Then he did the same to his own before he slid his way up the bed, leaning against the headboard before patting the spot next to him.

"Come here."

You hesitated, before beginning to scooch over to him. When he opened his arms as a silent invitation you hesitated again. "Are you sure?"

"Yes. Please come here." He nodded solemnly.

Astarion willed himself to keep steady and clear, drawing a breath he truly did not need. He enveloped you in his arms as you laid next to him, trying to stop his limbs for stiffening. It was all so foreign, it was terrifying.

But your familiar scent filled his nose, and he could feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat with your chest pressed to his side. His fingers laxed as you settled into him, bunching into the material of your shirt. Your breaths started calming and eyes fluttering as you laid with him.

"Is this okay?" You whispered — uncertainty laced every word.

"I was just going to ask you the same thing." He said softly, before swallowing thickly. "I don't know what I'm doing." You started to remove your limbs his, but he tightened his hold on you. "Don't, please."

"Astarion if you aren't comfortable—"

"I am, it's not that." He rubbed the soft material of your shirt between his fingers as he spoke, "I want so badly to be this for you, to be what you need. But I don't know how."

You craned your neck up to look at him, "I think you're doing a good job of it."

He looked down at you through his long lashes, "Truly?"

"Yes, Astarion." You sounded genuine, "No one... no one has ever made me feel the way you do."

He let out a sigh of contentment, settling in deeper with you before resting his chin on the top of your head. "I know we have so much left to do... But laying here with you. It makes it worth it."

"Are you scared?" You asked in a whisper.

"Terrified, actually." He admitted.

Your thumb rubbed across his stomach in smooth lines back and forth, "I will be with you every step of the way."

"That's part of what makes it all so terrifying." The vampire whispered, "Sometimes, I know that I couldn't do any of this without you by my side. But other times... when Ketheric turned into that thing, that abomination, with you looking so small in front of him..."

"I know."

Astarion moved his head so he could look at your face, "You were right though."

"Hmmm?" You hummed.

"This is nice. Gods, when did I get so soft?" He chuckled, the movement of his chest vibrating your head until you joined him.

Both of your faces were etched with bliss and contentment as you laid in the bed. On this bed where before he had laid awake, willing himself to fall into a trance, convincing himself to keep his distance from you, trying to protect himself from the inevitably of you.

Now, you both fell asleep like that, still in your regular attire, wrapped in each other's arms with your head buried on his chest.

The stars caressing their moon.

• • •

The journey towards Baldur's Gate was turbulent and nerve-wracking while also... hopeful.

The group was buzzing with energy — the anticipation of returning to Baldur's Gate had made some of your companions restless in more ways then one.

You were all sat for a short rest, relaxing in a patch of long, green grass just off of the dirt road you were traveling on. It was just your group now, the other parties and groups had begun moving at different paces and times until it was just your familiar companions now.

Astarion was laid out in the grass, his head resting on your lap and your fingers absent-mindedly playing with his soft, white tresses. His eyes were closed, basking in the glow of the sun that was set high in the sky at this time of day. Occasionally the shadows on his face would bounce as his long lashes flickered, opening his eyes to glance at you with a dreamy expression on his face.

It made your movements stutter each time you noticed it. But the grip he had on your heart — that was steady and true. He had possessed you in a way you still could not articulate, even all these weeks later.

But you blinked back to reality as Gale's voice broke the silence. "You're a beautiful couple."

You looked up, a sheepish smile spreading across your face from being noticed. Astarion craned his neck, his red eyes rolling back to look at the wizard before settling back into your lap with a disinterested look crossing his face.

"Oh, I'm sorry... I'm made things awkward, haven't I?" Gale mumbled, his hands twirling with the blades of grass in front of him.

You couldn't help the blush that was spreading across your cheeks at the attention. Especially as you realized the rest of your companions were looking over with small smirks.

Gale continued as you remained silent, "I just meant that... Well, its nice to see my friends so happy. That's all."

"Thank you, Gale." Astarion drawled, readjusting himself so he laid deeper on your lap.

The wizard blinked in surprise, "You're welcome. Are you — is it a secret, or?"

"Not a secret, no." The vampire purred with a shake of his head.

"We are just taking our time." You finished, a soft smile growing on your face to match the one spreading across Astarion's.

"Hmm, that's nice." Gale trailed off, a wistful expression on his face.

Before the silence could really settle in again, the rest of the party started a conversation up.

"Won't be long now until we get to Baldur's Gate." Wyll said, his face hard to read.

"Are you nervous?" Karlach stretched her long leg, nudging him in the ankle playfully.

His mouth scrunched and nose crinkled, "I... I don't know how to feel."

"I can't fucking wait! I'll be able to show you guys my old stomping grounds!" The barbarian said excitedly, falling back dramatically into the grass with her limbs spread wide. She addressed you, shouting up to the blue sky, "What about you, Giggles? Excited to see home again?"

"Oh," Your fingers froze, hovering over Astarion's hair. "I had only lived in the city for just under a year. Home will always be in the north."

"The north? I don't think I've heard you speak of your home much." Shadowheart asked quietly, a quizzical look on her face.

"I, yes— near the Ice Spires." Your mouth twitched.

"You hail from a noble line, yes?" Gale asked. Everyone was eyeing you with curiosity, even Astarion still stretched out on your lap. His red eyes shifting slightly as he studied you.

You swallowed, painting on a polite smile before speaking, "My father is a Viscount. He is a formidable figure in the region."

"Ah." The warlock grimaced, his eyes sad. "Why do I get the feeling our stories are more similar than I realize?"

You bristled. "I'm not exiled or anything... It's just been some time. That's all."

"That's all?"

A humorless laugh escaped you, "I am a second born child. And my older brother is much more obedient and better suited to the game of politics than I am." You couldn't help the sad, bitter smile that spread across your face. The thought of home stung in more ways then one.

Astarion noticed how tense you had become, his hand squeezing your knee as he pushed himself up with a dramatic huff. "We are never going to get to the city if we sit here lounging all day."

You shot him a grateful look, and he gave you the slightest nod in recognition as he offered his hand to lift you up. He did so easily, brushing off blades of grass lingering on you both gently.

"You were the one complaining not long ago about how long we had been walking for!" Gale said, sounding completely exasperated as Wyll helped him up.

"Me? I said that? I don't think so." The rogue playfully scoffed, shaking his head so his soft curls bounced dramatically. He looked over his shoulder at you with a conspiratorial smile before stretching his hand out for you. His fingers intertwined with yours easily as he pulled you along the dirt path, away from the questioning and burning curiosity of the rest of the party.

• • •

Your group finally settled down for the night — picking a small clearing just off of the well-worn, dirt path you had been traveling down. Perhaps the last time you would be sleeping in the wilderness. You would be at Wyrm's Crossing by midafternoon tomorrow.

Astarion had set up your tent on the edge of camp, attempting to give you both some sense of privacy from your busybody companions. He knew they meant well, that they hadn't meant for this afternoon to turn into an interrogation. That, like him, they were just curious to know more about you. As kind and good you were to all of them, you were still somewhat of a mystery. You had revealed the origins of your powers to the group yes, but you rarely spoke about yourself or your home.

Not even to him.

The vampire had been content to let it lie. He knew it would come with time — and he certainly couldn't make any demands of you. Not after how gracious and patient you had been with him. But he couldn't deny that part of him wanted to know more. Astarion had somehow become an open book with you — revealing and exploring parts of himself that he had buried down so deep that he was surprised he could find them.

He worried that it all had been about him for so long. His trauma, his past, his goals. That maybe you had kept parts of yourself hidden away, on the back burner for him.

You had your back turned to him at the moment, the golden flickering of the candles in the tent illuminating the curve of your spine and freckles across your bare skin. Your muscles stretched and tensed beautifully as you lifted your arms over your head —pulling your nightclothes over yourself as you changed in the corner. It was a boundary that was set much earlier, that he had slowly started making less and less strict.

He wasn't ready for anything more yet — he knew that. But his red eyes couldn't help but roam your figure. He couldn't help the familiar sensation of want twisting low in his stomach, the twitch of his fingers at his side as he imagined running his fingertips over your soft skin again.

The smile you gave him as you turned around was dazzling, even in the dim light and tight space of the shared tent. You joined him cross-legged in the center of the tent, both of you not quite ready to go to sleep just yet.

He picked at his nail for a moment, trying to seem nonchalant as he opened his pink mouth to speak. "So... the Ice Spires?"

You raised a single eyebrow, a hard to read look crossing the rest of your features. "Yes?"

His fingers continued to fidget in front of him. "It's cold... all the time?"

"Not all the time. Our winters can be brutal though." You said with a scrunched nose.

"Oh, what a lovely sell. I can't wait to go now!" He said sarcastically.

"Ha." You laughed dryly, before your voice turned wistful. "It's beautiful honestly... I miss it."

The vampire studied your face as you undoubtedly saw visions of your home in your mind's eye. The edges of his lips curved up as he remembered your promise to take him there one day. He broke you out of your daydream with a quiet cough before he spoke again, "You don't have to tell me, if you don't want. But why did you leave there, darling?"

Your eyes flashed to the floor of the tent, your mouth forming a hardline. "Promise me you won't be upset?" Your voice was barely a whisper.

His eyebrows furrowed together at your reaction. He took two fingers, dipping them under your chin so you would look up at him. "Why would I be upset? You leaving home for whatever reason is why you are here now. With me."

Your eyes softened with his answer, before you nodded. Yet you still licked your lips nervously before speaking, "Well... you know that Selûne told my mother I would be destined for a different path then the life of nobility. My mother agreed to it all those years ago, both my parents knew and yet... they still hoped they could reel it all back in. That enough etiquette and language lessons would shape me into the perfect child they hoped I would be. But it was never me. I tried for them, I really did. Instead I started to fantasize about the people in our history lessons like they were characters in a book, and I spoke too loud and laughed at the wrong moment at dinner."

Astarion couldn't help the smile that spread across his face as he imagined you as a child — your face round and soft with innocence, your brilliant smile with missing teeth. The havoc that you would have caused, racing down wealthy halls as you acted out scenes from your books and danced in an empty ballroom with your melodic laugh echoing in the space. A piece of himself he had long forgotten about twinged inside him. He couldn't remember his own childhood anymore — it was lost to the last two hundred years of darkness. But something warmed in him as he dreamed up what yours was like.

He snapped back to reality as you spoke again. "But I had a duty. I'm the second born, I wasn't being primed to one day take over for our father and run the keep, but I could be used in other ways. I've known of it since I was twelve."

His white brows furrowed again, "Known what?"

"When I became of age I would be married off to secure wealth and political ties with other territories. I'm engaged... technically." You admitted.

His eyes dropped immediately to your fingers, the several jewels that adorned them from the moment he met you. He had never thought anything of them — thinking they were an artful display of rings that matched your personality and appearance well. But there it was — a golden ring of much higher quality then the rest, with a large ruby sitting in the center of it. Gods, how had he missed that.

"Oh my gods. I'm a homewrecker." Then he burst out laughing, his head thrown back and his hands holding his stomach as he howled.

"Astarion, you'll wake up half the camp!" You leaned forward and hissed.

"I'm sorry, I just —" He let out between gasps of breath, "It's so funny. Of course the person I fall for is to be wed to someone else."

You joined his chuckles, shaking your head. "It is like a cliché plotline from some terrible drama."

"It is! Or like a punchline to some joke. Did you hear the one about the vampire and the fiancé?" You both laughed for a moment, before he clutched onto your hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

"So you aren't upset?" Your voice a whisper again, uncertainty flooded every word.

"Upset? Darling, why would I be upset?"

You huffed out an exasperated breath, "Astarion, I just told you I am betrothed to another person."

"And you are on the other side of the continent from them. Not married. And sitting in my tent. Is this why you left?"

Your eyes widened in surprise, "Yes, we planned it all out actually— my betrothed and I."

"Really?"

You nodded, "They had also spent the last years troubling over it, attempting to delay it for as long as possible."

"I'm assuming getting kidnapped by mind flayers was not apart of that plan?" He said with a smirk.

"Definitely not. I so badly wanted to travel, to see the world outside of our keep I'd known my whole life. So... they insisted to my family that they needed a spouse that was learned and well-traveled. That I could enroll in a college to become a more suitable match."

Astarion raised a white brow, "And that worked?"

"It did. I think my father was so desperate for it all to work out that they just agreed."

"And how did you attending a college lead you to Baldur's Gate so many miles away from home?"

You let out a dry chuckle, "I will say that I did go to the college like I intended. I lasted a week. Just long enough to purchase supplies and stationary from the college before paying for a spot on the next wagon out of Silverymoon."

"Stationary?"

"I've been sending letters home for the past year, using stationary from the college so my family believes I'm still there studying and being a model citizen."

He raised his eyebrows, a smirk spreading across his lips. "I'm impressed. That's very conniving... I didn't know you had it in you."

You smiled sheepishly, your fingers twisting in your lap. "I'll admit it was a clever idea. I ran out of supplies about a month before the Nautiloid."

He pursed his lips as he finally understood, "They haven't heard from you since then?"

You shook your head, "No. I imagine my father has sent some of his men to check on me, and they have long discovered that I took back my tuition deposit and left months and months ago."

"This whole time we were worried about a vampire master storming our camp, when really it could have been a disgruntled father or worried mother finding us?"

A large exhale left your nose as you shook your head, "Oh, my father would never come himself. He would just send his second-best men and a strongly worded letter ordering me back home. My mother though... I can only imagine how she betrayed and worried she feels."

The vampire squeezed your hand again before running his thumb along the backs of your knuckles. "Why did you never tell me this?"

"Astarion, the hardship and abuse that you went through...," Your eyes shined with pain, "My story is nothing compared to yours."

"Your story is not nothing." He shook his head, his voice earnest. "Your story is you — and you are everything. Never spare parts of yourself from me."

"Even the messy parts that years of etiquette lessons couldn't train away?"

He let out a breathy laugh before smiling at you, "Especially those parts, my lovely moon."

"You have gone soft on me, Starry." You teased before matching his smile.

• • •

After another day of travel, you stood in the abandoned castle in Wyrm's Crossing, bracing yourself on the stone wall. The skyline of Baldur's Gate could be seen from here, the distant sound of the bell's ringing heard even from here.

Your party had finally made it — after all of these weeks. You would walk the familiar cobblestone streets of Baldur's Gate tomorrow. The familiar scents and sounds of vendors and citizens, the bustle and crowds would be so different from the wilderness and forests you had been traveling through.

The group's energy was buzzing as you settled for camp in the abandoned castle — a strange mixture of excitement and nerves. Astarion hadn't hidden his feelings with you — his anxieties and insecurities surfacing with every step closer and closer to the city limits. With every step closer to Cazador and his ritual. Hundreds of different ideas were bouncing around his head, you could tell.

Yet your confession to him last night was still replaying in your head, especially as your stared at the ring on your left finger — the red gem catching the light. You weren't sure why you wore it anymore. A habit, you guessed.

The sound of purposeful, shuffling feet announced that you were no longer alone. Craning your neck you looked over to see the man who normally consumed your thoughts, climbing the stone steps that led up to the falling apart battlements you stood on.

"What are you doing up here, darling?"

"Just taking a moment." You admitted as you loosed a heavy breath. "And you?"

"Oh, just over pretending to be interested the idle chat by the fire." Astarion waved his hand, before sliding in next to you. He braced his elbows onto the edge looking out over to the skyline. You watched him take a deep steadying breath, his eyebrow crinkled with worry for a moment.

You fiddled unconsciously with the golden ring on your left hand as you watched him. The movement caught the vampire's attention, his red eyes snapping to it before looking up at you. He chewed the inside of his lip, before speaking, "Can I ask you a question?"

Your stomach tightened with sudden nerves, "Of course."

"This wedding... Your arranged marriage."

"Hmm?" You hummed.

His pale throat bobbed as he swallowed, "Would you have gone through with it? If there was no Nautiloid, no tadpole — none of this. Would you have gone through with the arrangement?"

A heavy sigh escaped you as you pushed your elbows off of the stone edge and stood up, "I would have... I would have tried. It felt inevitable before — inescapable."

He shifted around, so he was facing you — standing to his full height and looking you in the eyes. "And now?" He whispered, his long fingers reaching to brush the insides of your wrist lightly.

"Astarion... I never could have imagined any of this. I spent my whole life fantasizing and daydreaming of an escape and grand adventure. Nothing I've dreamed up has ever come close to being with you. I have fought mind flayers and ogres, refused Gods and marched across the country so that we can keep going. So that we can have a chance. I will take my father's disappointment and wrath for ruining his plans for financial security."

"Heh — We can add him to the list of people we've angered along the way." He joked, but his eyes were glimmering with unspoken emotion after your declaration.

You studied the handsome man before you, your lips parting slightly as you took him in. He was radiant in the moonlight, his white hair and pale skin shining. The way his usually sharp eyes softened and rounded as he looked at you.

Gods, you loved him. You had known for sometime now that you did. The words had been crawling up your throat, lingering on your tongue and swirling in your mind for days. But you would be patient for him.

One side of his pink mouth turned up, "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Your head cocked to the side, "Like what?"

"You..." He seemed like he was at a loss for words for a moment. He shook his head at himself, before he admitted in a whisper, "They way you look at me... you make me feel like I'm poetry."

"You are, Astarion." You said simply. Courage suddenly flooded through you. You knew you would be fine, no matter how he answered. You wouldn't dare rush him. But you wanted to ask tonight. "May I — May I kiss you?"

He blinked in surprise before his red eyes flicked down to your lips and he unconsciously licked his own. Then he locked eyes with you, nodding breathlessly. "Yes," He whispered back, his long lashes fluttering. "Yes."

Moving your hands up slowly and gently, your fingertips gripped the side of his strong jaw. You heard his breath sharpen as you moved your face to meet his — slowly, giving him time and space, allowing him to change his mind and pull away. But he didn't. Instead his eyes closed softly, his head tilting towards yours as he waited for you to kiss him. Then your lips locked as your mouth pressed softly against his, carefully as you waited to see if he would kiss you back. A low noise escaped you as you felt his lips press harder against yours, returning the kiss.

You had long thought of your first kiss with Astarion in the woods near the Druid's Grove all that time ago. You thought you had memorized the sweet taste of him on your lips, the scent of leather lingering from his armor and groans that made the hairs on your arms stand up.

But this — this was so different. Not practiced, not ritualistic like he so often said.

This new first kiss was so painfully soft and tender. He tasted like wine, rosemary and honey. His hair softer then you remembered as your finger toyed with the curled tips at the base of his neck. The happiest of sounds escaped him as he parted his lips for you, allowing you to deepen the kiss as your tongue slid across his teeth. You both stood like that for a moment, relishing in the feeling until you both felt dizzy. Your lips stuck together slightly as you pulled away. His forehead was pushed against yours, like he was no longer content to not be touching you.

Astarion's eyes were ablaze in the moonlight as he looked at you, his mouth falling open as he caught his breath. "Again. Kiss me, again.” “Starry?” You asked, your brow twitched. “Kiss me. Please. I miss it, I've missed you." One of his hands gripped the tip of your chin as you moved your mouth back towards him, halving the movement as he pulled you back in for another kiss. The other intertwining with yours in between you, squeezing your fingers gently.

His sharp teeth dug into your bottom lip, causing a shudder to run down your spin. "Slow down, my love." Your groaned out.

"I have — weeks of this — to catch up on." His voice was breathless and he continued to interrupt his own words as he pressed lips to yours over and over.

You pulled away, studying his face — the skin around his mouth pink from kissing, a slight flush crossing his complexion. But his eyes were fixed on you, filled with want and need. "I'm not going anywhere, Astarion. We have time."

"Good. " He beamed, resting his forehead on yours again as you both breathed each other in. The two of you silhouetted on the crumpling battlements as you held on to each other for a moment longer.

Read Part VI here

#bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion x gn reader #astarion x tav #astarion/tav #astarion/reader #astarion fanfic #bg3 astarion

57 notes · View notes

sailforvalinor · 9 months

Note

Seeing your post got me thinking. How did you feel about Ten's ending? Especially the fact that he "didn't want to go". That hit me rather hard when I first watched Ten's ending. It was rather unlike Five's for instance where he accepted his fate. I forget in what order I watched it, I think I watched Five's story after, but I digress. I don't know, it felt so human to me, and raw and David Tennant delivered it flawlessly. So I wondered your thoughts on it.

I loved it. I loved it I loved it I loved it. I was a bit too emotional at the time to post anything coherent about it, but…yeah. If it tells you anything, my dad cried—and he’s seen it at least three times before 😂.

Here’s the thing about the “I don’t want to go” line: Series 1 and 2 is a positive character arc for the Doctor. At the beginning of Series 1, he is at his lowest, the Time War having just occurred. He is angry, closed-off, refuses to be “domestic”—i.e., he’s refusing to get attached again. But Rose drags him back into all of that anyway—and this arc is a lot of things, it’s about him rediscovering joy, confronting grief and guilt, but most importantly, he is allowing himself to care again.

But to care is to leave yourself vulnerable to loss, and that’s what happens when he loses Rose—and it’s inarguably devastating for him. His characterization takes a definite shift here, he’s lost a bit of his joy (and even at times when he does express happiness or joy it can feel like a mask, or at least somewhat forced), and he becomes so unwilling to let go—think of the “I can do this, I can do anything” scene where Astrid dies in “Voyage of the Damned.” To me, Series 3 and 4 and the specials are a negative character arc for Ten, though a subtle one, one you don’t realize is occurring until it culminates with the Time Lord Victorious—a slow, agonizing trainwreck. He’s lost so many people by this point—not just his Rose, but Martha, Donna, the Tylers, Mickey, Astrid—and he’s been isolating himself to avoid getting attached again, to avoid hurting anyone else, but when he comes to care for the crew of Bowie Base One and loses them, he snaps. And we all know what happens—he falls for the lure of power, the illusion of control. And he himself falls.

“The End of Time” is the consequence of that fall, and I would argue that the Doctor finds himself much in the same position as he was in at the beginning of Series 1–desperately lonely, but unwilling to get close, so so scared of loss. Though in a very different way, I think Wilf helps Ten relearn the same lesson Rose taught him all those years ago, that he has to care, to try to force himself to be apathetic is so much worse, but Wilf (and the Ood) help give him the second half: he also has to learn to let go. It’s a constant cycle: “you have to love -> you have to lose -> you have to love -> you have to lose,” and Ten finally, finally understands—but as he’s dying. He’s finally grasped the truth, he’s seen the light, but he’s seen it too late. And that’s the tragedy of it. As I watched the specials, I got the sense that he wanted his time to end—it’s never explicit, but you can sense it, he seems tired, makes references to having lived too long. He had all that time he wasted self-isolating and alternately wallowing in despair or trying to force apathy, but it is on his last day, at the sound of four knocks, that he finally realizes that he wants to live. And he can’t.

I think that Matt Smith was an absolutely brilliant casting choice as Eleven, because it would be impossible to not resent any other replacement after that. Smith’s Doctor is just so sweet and goofy and joyful that it’s hard to dislike him for long. Honestly, my personal headcanon is that Eleven is like that because of Eleven, trying to make up for Ten’s lost joy.

Anyway, sorry about the ramble, I had more thoughts about this than I realized.

#I do wonder how Ten and Eleven will interact—and yes I do know it’s coming because it’s impossible to exist on the internet without knowing #about the existence of the Day of the Doctor #personally I would think Ten would resent Eleven to a certain degree #anyway I digress #thank you for giving me a chance to ramble and read way too far into this 😂😂#Doctor who #tenth doctor #tenrose #Val cries over a madman with a blue box

17 notes · View notes

maybedefinitely404 · 4 years

Text

Not Your Typical

Genre: college AU, hurt/comfort (kind of?)

Pairings: romantic Demus, Logicality, and Prinxiety

Content: some language, autistic character, sensory overload, mentions of losing friends in the past, anxiety, unintentional self harm, Roman is kind of a jerk but he regrets it, food mentions, unable to eat certain consistencies, beach/water/swimming, Janus being a disaster gay, ASL, selective mutism.

Word count: 6k

Comments: Like always, I don’t intend for these to be so long. Holy cow.

Janus is written based mostly on my experiences as someone with autism, and how it’s affected my childhood/relationships/daily life. No one’s experience is the same.

Janus was always alone. Alone, not lonely.

Most of the time, that is.

His whole childhood was an endless cycle of make a friend, weird them out, be alone. Find another friend, weird them out, be alone. And sometimes it hurt, yeah, but he got used to it. At home, he spent the entire day in his room, assembling structures out of legos before tearing them down and starting over. Sometimes he’d build something really cool, and that would stay up for a long time. He didn’t have any siblings, and his parents didn’t give a whoop as long as the floor was generally clear, so no one ever bothered the space ships or towers or just really long lines that stretched from one wall to the other. He liked those.

Things changed when he got to middle school. Life started getting real, people became more than just recess friends, and that unsettled him. He made a couple close friends, friends that he really opened up to only for them to leave him when he became too much. He just couldn’t help it though; he couldn’t help the way he bounced when he got so excited he couldn’t breathe, or how he couldn’t use words when he got overwhelmed by the touch and the noise, or how he couldn’t stop talking about his favorite shows or books. He was labeled as childish. It was like a label had been stuck to his chest that read “avoid at all costs”, and people did.

So he relearned how to be alone. He put a lava lamp next to his bed for when he needed something constant to look at, he got a collection of chewy necklaces and stim toys that never left his room. After a lot of research, he convinced his parents to buy him a weighted blanket for when every touch was too light, too agonizingly light, and he needed something firm to ground him. At school, or really around anyone, he learned to control his more obvious stimming and touch sensitivity by staying in oversized sweaters and jeans. He taught himself basic sign language for when he couldn’t talk, even though he knew his parents wouldn’t understand him. They took forever to learn basic signs, for ‘water’ or ‘quiet’ or ‘no’, and both eventually got frustrated and gave up. As if their frustration was anything compared to his.

It was going great, not perfect but better than before, until he graduated high school. Suddenly he realized he was about to move halfway across the country, to a new environment with new triggers and new people who didn’t understand that he wasn’t frowning because he was pissed, but because smiling when you didn’t understand the reasoning was exhausting. Why do people smile and greet you when they enter the room? Why couldn’t that be more of an… understood thing? I’m here, you’re here now, we both know that, so why bring so much attention to it? For once his parents were kind enough to help him out, taking him to the campus during the summer to get acquainted with the surroundings and learn the map by heart. He talked to the admission’s counselor, explaining his disability and why that meant he couldn’t be on the side of campus near the highway, because the constant noise and common sirens would make him explode. They were eventually able to move him to one of the other buildings, one with apartments instead of dorms, even though that was generally only for third and fourth years. It took a load off his shoulders; less noise, less people. The one thing he couldn’t do was meet his roommates before the year started.

The school got them into contact, and since he was the last to be assigned to the six person pod, they added him into their pre-established group chat. The other five already had nicknames, ranging from ‘Dad’ to ‘Rat Bastard’, and he immediately felt like an outsider. Not like that was new to him, though. Except, he didn’t stay like that. When one of the group, ‘Nerdy Mcnerd’ on the chat (he’d long forgotten their actual names), asked him what he liked and he immediately sent a list of special interests and hyperfixations, the top being snakes, it was like a door had been opened. Nerdy Mcnerd was a fan of space as well, and the two stayed up until all hours of night on their own chat discussing space and their place in the universe. Rat Bastard had an affinity for what people would categorize as “creepy animals”; octopi and squid, spiders, star-nosed moles, and most importantly, snakes. Their conversations mostly involved dopey pictures of snakes and unintelligible key smashes and emojis. Emo Disaster shared his love of darker themed TV shows, and they started a couple new ones at the same time, constantly updating each other with theories. When he mentioned his major was psychology, Dad was immediately overjoyed to be sharing the major with someone, and offered to help him study for the harder classes. He didn’t hit it off quite so well with Princey, who was put off by Janus’ so called “moodiness” and didn’t trust him.

When they finally met, it was supposed to be great. Janus knew the environment, somewhat knew his roommates, and was surprisingly excited for the new year. His joy was suddenly vanquished, however, as meeting these people face to face took a turn for the worse. Dad, Patton, immediately tried to go for the hug when he walked into the apartment for the first time, and was slightly taken aback when Janus reared back so hard he hit his head on the wall. The glee disappeared and he apologized profusely, and that’s when Nerdy Mcnerd, Logan walked in, explaining that Patton was very physical. They were over it rather quickly, but Janus shuddered as soon as the other two turned to each other. They had already claimed one of the three rooms for themselves, so Janus chose the one furthest into the apartment. He dropped his suitcases next to one of the two beds with a deep sigh. The thought of a hug… no. It unsettled him greatly, made his skin crawl. Maybe one day, but not now.

Emo Disaster and Princey, Virgil and Roman, arrived later in the day, hand in hand, bickering animatedly when they walked into the apartment. They were greeted with a huge hug from Patton and a side hug from Logan, and that’s when Janus recalled that they had all been roommates the year prior and again, felt a small tinge of pain. He was still the odd one out. Virgil gave a two finger salute to where Janus was sitting curled up on one of the bar stools, knees pulled to his chest and for the first time, Janus didn’t feel compelled to give a forced smile in greeting. It was a relief. The small nod was all that was needed. Roman however, was a different story. When they happened to make eye contact for the first time, the taller man still standing in the doorway, Janus flinched. Hard. The man’s eyes burned through him, as if scouring through his brain, eyes so full of passion that Janus had to look away. Eye contact was only an issue for him sometimes, but with Roman, it physically hurt. Which only made the theatre major more suspicious of him. As he passed him on the way to get a glass of water, the taller man blurted out, “You’re a first year, why are you in a third year building?”, earning him a gentle smack from Virgil. He answered with a lame shrug and rushed back to his room, conceding to just go to sleep, regretting leaving his drink on the counter.

No one besides Janus was surprised when the door burst open at three am and a loud voice screamed, “I’M BACK, FUCKERS!” He was frozen in place, woken with such an adrenaline rush that he couldn’t move. Outside, the other four exited their rooms with varying levels of annoyance and delight, greeting the final member of the group. Remus, as Janus heard them proclaim, was his roommate, the only two dwellers not in a relationship. The gremlin burst into the room, a deranged smile on his face, and Janus wanted to cry. Why did he have to be stuck in a room with the loud one? But Remus saw the mismatched eyes poking out from under the blanket and with no hesitation, sunk to the floor next to the bed, still smiling but a million decimals softer.

“Hey, Snakey. Sorry to scare ya. I’m Remus, but you can still call me Rat Bastard if you want. Call me whatever, I don’t really get offended. You go back to sleep, I’m gonna get settled in. We can talk in the morning.”

Janus wasn’t planning to fall asleep, not with this new person in his room, but Remus was shockingly silent as he unloaded his things (he packed a bunch of garbage bags, not even a suitcase or box), and he couldn’t help the way his eyes slipped shut.

First semester came to a close, and he was equally delighted and horrified that everyone was staying on campus for break. It had become harder and harder for him to avoid movie nights, or family dinners (as Patton called them), or days they all went into town together. In the beginning, he put it off to being tired. Then, studying for exams. Now with school halted for nearly a month, he was out of excuses. It was getting to the point where he could feel the frustration from his roommates, and he wanted to admit how much he wanted to spend time with them, until his drawer full of secret stim toys and chewy necklaces called him back. At times, he let himself spend time with them. Baked something with Patton, talked about the stars with Logan, sat with Virgil as they studied, and it was good. He never was able to escape Roman’s cynical glares that made him absolutely shudder, but he got on much better with his twin.

Remus never minded if Janus only greeted him with a raised eyebrow, and he was okay to have more one sided conversations while Janus drew, or after a few weeks, stared unapologetically. Because god, there was so much about Remus that Janus couldn’t help but watch, even if a normal person would get uncomfortable by his wide and unblinking eyes. Luckily, Remus was no ordinary person. But the younger still kept the drawer to himself, only allowing himself to nom on the plastic or squeeze the orbeez filled squishy snake with intense fascination when he was alone. So every time he was with the others and felt the need to stim or infodump or was about to have a stress induced meltdown, he would excuse himself and leave without so much of a goodbye. He couldn’t, not in front of them. Every time he left, he could hear Roman’s quiet remarks about him that stung more than he wanted to admit.

He’d had so many people leave, people he allowed himself to get close to, only for them to see the side of himself he tried to hide. In his heart, he knew that part of him wasn’t bad. It was just him. Other people didn’t understand that, though. No matter how much he tried to convince himself that no one would judge him, or laugh at him because they weren’t like that, he was scared. The effort was wearing him thin, and it came to the point where he realized he had to tell them. He had to, or he would burst, and that would be way worse.

It was just three little words: I. Am. Autistic. And he’d explain everything, tell them about his stims and limits and how he needed space sometimes and hugs others, and spill everything about himself, and they’d accept him. They’d have to, right? Only, the night he was planning to blurt out the truth, something stopped him.

They were eating dinner, one of the only ones he’d attended in a while. Patton kept glancing at him from across the table as he picked half heartedly at his lasagna, distracted from the lively conversation between the twins and Virgil. The whole thing was speckled with bite sized pieces of mushrooms and zucchini, two of the foods that he couldn’t eat to save his life. The texture made him want to recoil into himself and scream and yank at his hair, and he’d learned early in life that that wasn’t a normal response to food. He wanted to explain to Patton that it wasn’t the meal itself he was avoiding, that it wasn’t Patton’s cooking that he didn’t like, it was just the texture of those two things.

Well, maybe that was a good gateway into his big announcement, if you could even call it that. It felt almost as scary as his coming out to his parents had been. If they didn’t take this well, he might be exiled from the group. If they tried to put up with them, they’d get irritated so quickly and slowly freeze him out. He really didn’t want that. It needed to happen though, he realized. How much worse would it be if one of them walked in on him having a meltdown, holding a pillow over his mouth to block his screams, biting almost animalistically on a necklace? How unsettled would they be if they saw him hitting his blanket pile out of repulsion of the feeling of his textbook pages? Better to warn them ahead of time. It was only luck that had gotten him this far.

Just as he opened his mouth to speak, Logan hit the table with the heel of his hand and let out an almost guttural scream before storming into his and Patton’s room, slamming the door behind him. Janus nearly fell backwards off his chair, matching Virgil’s surprised expression. Roman went silent, wincing slightly.

“What…” It was the first word he’d said the entire meal. Patton whipped his head towards him as if he’d forgotten he was there, a sudden sympathetic look on his face. He gave a weak smile.

“Sorry about that, kiddo. Logan has autism, sometimes he can’t handle the stimulus around him. Or maybe he just had a rougher day than I thought. I’ll check on him after dinner, give him some alone time.”

Logan has autism.

Oh my god.

It was like everything clicked into place. His passionate talk about topics he was interested in that could rival Janus’ (if he would ever let himself infodump like he wanted). His mannerisms, his occasional emotional outbursts, his rigorous unbreakable schedule, it all made sense. For a brief second, Janus was elated. Someone like him, someone who understood! And if they accepted Logan, maybe they would be able to understand him, even if they presented different areas of the spectrum.

But… how would that look? Janus had hidden away his neurodivergent traits for so long, repressed them until he felt like he would literally explode… what if they thought he was faking it? It’s not like they knew him well, not with the amount of time he avoided being around them. They might think he was lying to get attention, didn’t want to be left out. Wanted to be special.

Patton seemed to be waiting for a response, he noted. He gave a curt nod, hoping it displayed that he was unbothered by Logan’s disability, before giving a stupid excuse about some reading to finish over break and darting back to his room. Remus joined him later, saying nothing about the fact that Janus was huddled under his weighted blanket, no book in sight. He sat down in front of the bed, a common habit of his now, and began to quietly talk about some new dark fantasy story he was designing, his lilting voice soothing Janus to sleep.

Time passed, winter came and went, and the end of second semester was drawing near. Janus was still careful with the way he presented to the others. They had picked up that he didn’t like physical contact, and though they never said a word about it, Patton’s lasagna recipe shifted, kept changing, until it no longer included mushrooms and zucchini. Janus refused to believe it was for his sake, though. He tried to join them for a couple movie nights, but the constant fear of stimming made his anxiety spike, therefore finding the need to stim more compelling, until he had to leave. It was getting harder, however, now that it was that pleasant in-between time where he understood how his new profs worked but it wasn’t exam season yet. His excuses were dwindling. Like always, Roman made his stupid quips that hurt him more than was probably intended, and he’d finally had enough.

Maybe that’s why he was staring out at the open lake in front of him, hands playing absentmindedly with the hem of his shirt as Patton and Remus squealed, sprinting into the water without a second thought. One of their shirts had landed on Janus’ sandaled foot, and he quickly kicked it off as the light touch began to irritate him. Logan stood to his side, watching his boyfriend with an almost imperceivable smile.

“You guys could have helped carry stuff if you were just going to stand there!” Roman’s indignant voice carried over the lawn, muffled slightly by the pile of towels he was carrying. Virgil snorted, whether in agreement or at Princey’s expense, Janus didn’t know. Either way, he dumped his handful of lawn chairs unceremoniously onto the lawn at their feet.

“You two set these up then. I’m hot, I’m going swimming.”

“Damn right, you are,” Roman grinned. Virgil raised an eyebrow.

“Damn right I’m hot, or I’m going swimming?”

“Yes.” He didn’t give any of them a second to retort, scooping up a shrieking Virgil before sprinting them both into the water.

“They didn’t even take their shirts off,” Logan commented, picking up a chair from the pile and unfolding it. Janus quickly joined in, helping him set the four chairs into a line and placing the towels down in front of them. “Did you want to go swimming?”

Admittedly, Janus hadn’t actually gone swimming, much less to the beach, since he was a kid. He was lucky to have even found a swimsuit amongst his other barely worn clothing; how it had snuck into his suitcase, he didn’t know. The water looked inviting and it was hot, but right now he was exhausted from the long ride over in Remus’ truck, having to refrain from plugging his ear when it got too loud or maintain his breathing carefully when a leg touched his.

“Maybe in a bit. I’m kind of tired.”

Logan turned to look at him, dare he say scrutinizingly? He washed the expression away quickly, asking, “Would you like me to stay with you?”

“No, it’s okay,” Janus mumbled, “You go have fun. I’ll be fine, I like the quiet.” As if to punctuate his point, a child screamed from the playground, making them both flinch.

“Are you positive?”

“Yes. Go enjoy yourself, Logan.”

He nodded curtly, pulling his shirt over his head in one fluent motion and walking towards the waves professionally, as if he were walking towards a lecture. Patton cheered from the water.

Janus didn’t concern himself with the time as it passed, instead letting his mind wander while he focused on a line of ants that were crawling up a tree next to him. It wasn’t until a fast approaching form caught his attention did he tear his eyes away, hearing him give a shout of “Be right back!”.

Remus plopped himself onto the towel next to him, still panting from the run, but grinning from ear to ear. As he ripped open a water bottle and drank greedily, Janus couldn’t help but stare. Water glistened on his skin like jewels in the afternoon sun, plastering his hair down over his jaw and eyes. His eyelashes were barely fluttering against his cheekbones as he guzzled nearly half of the bottle, his adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow. The jut of his shoulder, almost touching his throat, taking his weight as he leaned back on his arm… the whole thing was fascinating. People interested Janus as a whole; the way they functioned, how they seamlessly picked up on little cues from others that Janus was still in the process of figuring out, even down to intricate biology of cells was incredibly captivating. But Remus was so much more than that. His voice when he spoke him to sleep, never mentioning it the next day, the way his dark eyes glimmered with hope when Janus agreed to eat with them, the twitch of his moustache as he covered a laugh at Patton’s corny jokes.

He was art, plain and simple.

Janus didn’t know if what he felt was romantic attraction. It sure felt like it, except it had never felt quite like this before. It wasn’t that he was asexual or anything, he was actually decently far from it. It was just how uncomfortable most physical contact made him that gave him the idea he might never have a partner in the way that he wanted. He wanted to hold hands, to cuddle, to kiss… but at the same time, he didn’t. That is, he didn’t know how he’d handle it. Sure, he’d had crushes in the past, cute boys from his classes or celebrities in the shows he hyperfixated on, and still the feeling of uncertainty had stayed. With Remus, something was different though. Never before had a crush ever felt so breath stealing, chest clenching, awe inspiring-

“Like what you see?”

Janus flinched, realizing Remus had finished drinking and was beaming at him with that stupid gorgeous gleam in his eyes. He looked at his lap immediately, feeling his face heat up.

“Sorry.”

“Not a problem,” Remus smirked, having the audacity to wink at him before standing up. “I’m going back in. Coming?” He reached out his hand, hopeful. Janus took a breath, acknowledging that this was his first time initiating contact since he’d arrived, and grabbed Remus’ hand. The surprise on the other’s face was almost enough to make him laugh. He pulled the younger to his feet, keeping a firm hold in Janus’ hand. And… that was okay.

Until it wasn’t.

The second his feet touched the sand, it was like alarm bells exploded behind his eyes. He couldn’t describe it, but it felt wrong. It gave in too much, light sprinkles of sand covered the top of his feet and instantly every nerve was on high alert. He ripped his hand from Remus’, stumbling backwards onto the grass again. The elder spun to him with concern.

“Snakey? What happened?”

“I- hmm, no. I can’t. Nope. No no no. Wrong. It… hmmmm. Can’t.” The last word dragged out as his brain seemed to disconnect from his mouth. His mind didn’t work, so focused on how every blade of grass was swiping along his soles too softly, too gentle, too much. His hands had curled into fists and he was fighting against everything inside him to scream bloody murder, because oh god the wind was brushing the hair onto the back of his neck and it tickled and make it stop make it stop!

Janus could vaguely hear someone shout, and the loudness floored him. Get away, get away, it’s too much it’s too much. The feeling of the grass was gone, and he was sitting on his beach towel, but the wind was still brushing his hair too much, so he grabbed at it uselessly, begging it to stop, stop, stop.

“What’s happening?” Roman.

“Is he okay?” Patton.

“Does he look okay?” Virgil.

“Janus, breathe. You’re safe.” Logan.

Yeah, he knew that. He knew, objectively, that the wind isn’t out to get him and grass doesn’t hurt and sand isn’t supposed to fry your nerves. That didn’t change the fact that it did for him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, it connected that they were seeing him have a meltdown, finally. But he couldn’t focus on that, not when someone was touching his arm why are they touching my arm LET GO!

He screamed now, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His breaths were ragged and gaspy, hands ripping at his hair to try and stop the fluttering strands. Then there was a new sound, an engine, a boat, and with it came the deep bass of some terrible music and there were people shouting and his head was hurting, why was it hurting so bad?! New hands grabbed his wrists and he writhed, pulling back from the grip that was pulling his fists away from where they’d been hitting his skull, over and over, trying to just get his stupid brain to work. Come back to the present, ground yourself, do SOMETHING!

And then something was in his hands.

His eyes peeled open (when had he shut them?) and he saw the dark blue stress ball, almost crushed between his fingers. The hands were gone from his wrist, and he took a deep breath, relaxing his hand and watching the slime filled toy slowly return to its natural shape. It was just like one from his drawer, the first stim toy he’d ever gotten. Familiarity. He kneaded it under his fingers, enjoying the comforting texture, the color soothing to his sensitive eyes. Bit by bit he felt himself relax, still holding the toy inches from his face between stiff hands, letting his legs unfurl. Without thinking, he raised a shaking hand to his chin and did the sign for ‘water’, and immediately regretted it. It was just such a habit around his parents, the only other people who had seen him break down to this extent, how could he be so-

He flinched as a water bottle was pressed into his raised hand, the lid already taken off. The water was so good, settling his senses and grounding him, like he’d been in hyperfocus before and it was dulled now. He gave the stress ball another squeeze, captivated by the way the slime moved, not even flinching as someone snapped in front of him.

Looking up for the first time, his first instinct was to crawl into a hole and die. Logan was sitting in front of him, slowly putting the cap back on his water bottle before handing it back to Patton, who was standing just behind him. Roman and Virgil had begun packing the chairs and bags agonizingly slowly and quietly. Impressive; they were almost done and he hadn’t noticed until now. He turned to his left and his heart completely shattered. Remus was sitting statue still, a few feet away, with a look of pure fear in his eyes. He sat on the edge of his knees, like he wanted to pounce forward and hug him but was holding himself back. He appreciated that.

Logan snapped again and Janus turned back.

‘Better?’ He signed slowly.

‘You know sign?’ Janus responded weakly, confused.

‘Patton too. I go nonverbal as well. Are you okay?’

The younger nodded, returning his hands to the stim toy on his lap. ‘Yours?’

‘Yes.’

“Is he okay?” Remus whispered suddenly, drawing their attention. He looked so scared, like anything could break Janus and he was scared he would cause it. Oh. Did he think he caused this?

‘Not his fault.’

Logan looked between the two, a look of confusion settling in his face. “What?”

‘Not. His. Fault.’ He signed sharply, a frustrated hum emitting from the back of his throat. ‘Not his fault!’

“Remus, he’s saying it’s not your fault. What does that mean?”

“I- I took his hand, and then this happened…” Remus started, leaning back onto his feet ashamedly, “If that wasn’t the cause, what was?”

‘Sand.’

Logan’s eyes filled with understanding, and he responded, ‘Sand?’ as if to double check that he got the right sign. Janus nodded again, slightly thankful for the mute state he was in. He wouldn’t be able to explain this as well as Logan would.

“If I’m understanding right, then my first assumptions were correct. Janus, did you just experience a sensory overload?”

Janus could only nod, meeting his eyes shakily. This is the moment. Now is his segway. If Logan wasn’t already suspicious, he surely was now. And he’d rather not have to explain, or come up with some half assed excuse if he was confronted later on why sinking his foot into sand had made him break.

‘I’m autistic.’ He fingerspelled it, not knowing what the sign was, or if there even was one. There was a beat of silence, the twins and Virgil exchanging puzzled looks, and Janus couldn’t even bear to look at the two people who would have understood. All his fears came rushing back. Would they think he was lying, or seeking attention, or or or-

“Oh, sweetie,” Patton crooned, sitting cross legged beside Logan, “We thought maybe… well, the possibility came up in conversation before. Lo was the one who brought it up.”

“Yes. Though our experiences differ, you seemed to exhibit symptoms that are common to the ASD spectrum. I thought it feasible, but did not wish to offend or frighten you by mentioning it.”

“We thought that if you were autistic, it would be yours to tell us,” Patton smiled softly.

“Wait,” Remus interrupted, “Janus, you have autism?”

Janus’ nervous glance up must have been enough to clue the rest of the group in, because Roman sighed and ducked his head into Virgil’s shoulder while Logan messily signed something which roughly translated to ‘how dense can someone be’. Jan couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not, but he cracked a smile anyways.

“Shit. Dude, I’m so sorry,” Roman murmured into Virgil’s shirt, “All the times I made fun of you for not joining us or anything, that was way out of line. I truly apologize.”

The youngest gave him the worldwide gesture for ‘it’s okay’; not exactly ASL, but it got his point across. Everything was packed up now, and Janus realized the implications.

‘Home?’ He asked Logan, eyebrows scrunched together.

‘Yes. You need to rest.’ He was right, he was exhausted. Getting to his feet along with Patton and Logan, he reached down to grab his towel, only for it to be promptly swooped up by Roman.

“I… I got it. Don’t worry about it. Okay?”

As soon as Roman turned his back, Janus couldn’t help his heavy sigh. This was another reason he had refrained from telling anyone. He didn’t want to be seen as a burden, or worse, a child. He didn’t need help with menial tasks like grabbing a towel. Virgil and him lifted all the belongings again, with less complaining this time, and began the short trek to the truck.

‘He’s not babying you,’ Logan signed, as if reading his mind, ‘He’s just guilty. If you want my advice, get as much out of it as you can.’

“Logan!” Patton chastised, failing miserably at hiding a smirk.

“Guys?” Remus’ uncharacteristically timid voice prompted them to turn back, “Could I talk to Janus for a sec?”

“You understand he is unable to speak at the moment, correct?” Logan raised an eyebrow, probably coming off more harsh than he meant to.

“I know. Just… please?”

The other two shared a knowing look that Janus didn’t understand, before Logan turned to Janus. “Is that okay?”

The youngest nodded, watching over his shoulder as the lovebirds joined hands, leaving him and Remus alone. When he met his eyes again, he was standing much closer, eyes searching nervously.

“Maybe this will actually be easier since you can’t talk,” he laughed, before his face fell dramatically, “Fuck, that’s not what I meant. I’m such an idiot, I didn’t mean-”

Janus held up a hand quickly, as if to say ‘it’s fine, settle down’, holding back a snicker. He’d understand if someone was upset by the comment, but he’d learn to take Remus’ jokes lightly. He never meant to actually offend, sometimes he just… blurted without intending to. He rolled his finger in a ‘keep going’ motion.

“Shit. Okay,” He’d never seen Remus blush, or stumble over his words before. Not like this, at least, “Now, don’t feel obligated to say you feel the same or anything, okay? This is just, my feelings, and mine alone,” A deep breath, “I like you, Snakey. I like you a lot. More than… more than a friend.”

Oh.

Janus was ninety percent sure he died right then and there. But Remus kept going, tripping over his words in a way that was so unlike him, and yet so perfect.

“I have for a while. I never said anything because I thought, maybe you disliked me? After today though, I think… well, maybe I was misinterpreting those signals. Like I misinterpreted today. That you didn’t want to be around me, no matter how hard I tried.”

Okay, Janus took it back. He wanted to be able to talk now, but his voice came out as another low hum, and he slapped his hand over his mouth, embarrassed. Remus pressed on, unfazed.

“Snakey, I swear to you, that you having autism doesn’t change those feelings at all. It’s not a bad thing, or a flaw, it’s just you. And everything about you is amazing, and perfect, and this is just another thing I get to learn about you. Any fears you had around telling us, telling me, you don’t need to have them.”

He’d never felt this kind of feeling before. In that second, he knew for a fact that this wasn’t a crush that he had on Remus. That wasn’t possible, because a crush had never made him want to break his social barriers like this. A crush had never made him want to make an exception, to stand on his tip toes and kiss him, even if the thought of a new touch usually caused goosebumps to rise on his arms. Because he felt so safe, so blissfully numb, so comfortable with Remus, that he’d be willing to give it a try.

This wasn’t a crush. This was-

“I love you,” Remus whispered, his statement accompanied by a large shaky breath.

He couldn’t say it back, not right now. Later, he would. For sure. Maybe a hundred times. So he did what he’d never thought possible and took that step forward, breaking his bubble that he’d always thought to be unbreakable.

It’s okay. You’re okay. This is okay.

For once, he actually believed it.

Janus reached a hand up, slowly, and rested it on Remus’ face. It wasn’t light, he couldn’t do half touches. It was solid, warm, real. Not a tickling touch that made him twitch, or a brush by that stole the very breath from his lungs. The positive response affirmed his will power, and he leaned up onto his tip toes. Remus looked absolutely stunned, but he didn’t pull away, he couldn’t if he tried. His breath caught in his throat as the elder glanced down, an unmistakable look to his lips.

Had Remus always had those green flecks in his eyes?

And he kissed him. Janus surged forward, pressing their lips together harsher than he’s intended, pulling a small gasp out of Remus. There was a whoop from the vague direction of where they’d parked, followed by a loud smack, and Janus couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

Remus’ hands were clasped at his chest, unmoving, probably afraid that if he touched Janus wrong, this would all be over. He’d have to explain half touches later. For now, he took one of his hands in his free one and guided it around, pushing it into the small of his back until Remus got the message to keep that pressure. He let out a small sigh through his nose, an action that sent a new round of butterflies exploding in the younger’s stomach.

This is okay.

This is all going to be okay.

#lywrites #sanderssides #sanderssidesfanfiction #demus #prinxiety #logicality #autistic janus #sanders sides college au

300 notes · View notes

strangergrove · 4 years

Text

× VOL 001 × 04.19.2020 ×

TUMBLR | @bambixxblue AO3 | moonlight_xx

× these hearts adore (every other beat, the other one beats for) ×

WORD COUNT: 10,569

CHAPTERS: 2/?

My Tumblr prompt fics all in one place. Some pining, some angst, but usually always a damn happy ending.

1. peach, curve of an ear, coffee grounds, veined hands, thunder

2. ways to say 'i love you' - 'i brought you an umbrella.'

The writing in this is so exquisite. It feels like cracking open a favourite book on a rainy Sunday morning, when the rest of the world is still asleep. It's comforting and poetic and incredibly heartwarming.

The first chapter takes us along on a sweet little vacation to California, a last hurrah of sorts, before the kids head off to college. It's sweet and peach-soaked and you can feel the ocean breeze against your skin with every passing word. It's the exact brand of happiness our boys deserve.

The second part is an achingly beautiful redemption for Billy. He learns how to let his wounds heal, learns how to let others in, learns how to trust and love. His initial interactions when he meets Steve are so precious and it shows how complex of a person he is, the softness beneath his concrete shell. I will devour any update to this amazing collection.

× the light of day shows me how ×

WORD COUNT: 39,173

CHAPTERS: 7/7

And from Robin, a single picture: the official cast list.

ROMEO MONTAGUE...BILLY HARGROVE

JULIET “JULIAN” CAPULET...STEVE HARRINGTON

Ah, fuck.

(or, Steve and Billy are in ballet school. They're cast in LGBT+ Romeo and Juliet. Featuring mutual pining, angst to fluff, and an Ancient Slavic demon cult. It gets weird.)

This is such a fun read. The spattering of background into the story really carves out the characters so well, choreographing the story in such a way that you fall into their lives without realizing it. You sit down to watch Steve practice his role for Julian and suddenly find yourself wondering if that small stutter you just saw has anything to do with any number of little details you know of his past. You see Billy storm across the studio floor and know that he’s trying to bury something that keeps resurfacing, but he refuses to let anyone help him.

It’s wonderful watching the way the boys play off of each other, pushing one another to better themselves in both their dance and their personal lives. Watching Steve fumble with his newfound and confusing feelings is sweet, hopeful, just waiting, waiting for it to tip over the edge, for the boys to fall into the space they’ve always belong: by each other’s side.

I’ve never done ballet, only watched it here and there in movies and shows, but I fell in love with this story, the way their dances are described, their movements. So if you’ve never been that into ballet, don’t let that deter you from reading this story. It’s so much more than just ballet.

× friends should sleep in other beds ×

WORD COUNT: 13,517

CHAPTERS: 2/2

It isn’t easy being in love with your best friend.

It especially isn’t easy being in love with your best friend if he’s the practical-Godfather of your university.

(or, 'I won't let anyone hurt you; you're safe with me' prompt fill where Steve thinks his love is one-sided but it absolutely isn't. Feat. loving girlfriends and Hawaiian vacations.)

This story is beyond achingly stunning. It’s all whirlwinds and longing and the white-knuckle deathgrip of trying to hold onto something you’re convinced is going to slip away. The deep, binding relationship between Billy and Steve is beautiful and heartbreaking and hopeful at the same time. Both characters have obvious trenches of emotional trauma they’ve had to trudge through to get where they are, trenches they’re still slowly crawling their ways out of.

The words are so wonderfully crafted that I felt the sway and break of Steve’s emotions at the same time he did. I felt the longing, the sorrow, the sputtering flame of hope that just refuses to gutter and die. I want to say I wanted more of this story, but I don’t know if my heart could have handled it. No, it was the perfect length, detailing the long harrowing journey of love and friendship, of finding family that doesn’t come from blood, of holding desperately onto things that are worth the bruises they leave on your fingers.

TUMBLR | @cameorabbit AO3 | CaffeinatedBunny

× Life Is Sweet ×

WORD COUNT: 8,676

CHAPTERS: 4/4

Snapshots of domestic bliss, between loving boyfriends.

(This story will be marked as complete but I will be adding chapters as the muses come to me or when I need a break from some of my larger wip)

This wonderful little collection offers us a sweet insight into the boys' relationship. We get small glimpses into the boys' pasts that add layers to the stories. We get to see little snippets of Steve's relationship with his mother and grandmother. We get to see Billy's insecurities.

Each story has it’s own little theme, if you will, from baking Christmas cookies to battling insecurities in their relationship. Each story gives us a little more, brings us a little deeper into these boys’ lives, adds that next layer to them that has you coming back to see how they’ve developed. I'm looking forward to any future additions to this collection.

× When I run out of road (You bring me Home) ×

WORD COUNT: 5,316

CHAPTERS: 1/1

The road back to Hawkins Indiana is long and tedious with neither of them really wanting to reach their destination; so to distract them both Billy has a plan to make it as pleasurable for both of them as he can.

Uffda. This was a fun read. Now, before I dive into the review, just a heads up: this is a PWP with dom/sub. And apologies in advance for my inability to be eloquent about smut.

The dynamic between the two was a joy to read. Steve's mannerisms as a baby and the way Billy handles him as his Daddy was fantastic. It's not heavy dom/sub here, but you can tell they've had this relationship for a while. They're both comfortable in their roles and both know exactly what they're doing, and how to get a rise out of each other. But between the power play and the drops of backstory, there's actually some beautiful writing here, too. There were a few lines that I found myself rereading just because they sounded beautiful.

Also, I just have to say... The way Billy handles his own cock... Why do I love that so much? Just little things, too, like tapping it against the steering wheel while he's teasing Steve.

× I'll Keep you Mine ×

WORD COUNT: 3,926

CHAPTERS: 1/1

Billy's forged a kingdom and took an empty throne, and he'll burn anyone and anything that tries to take it from him.

(My Dudes this whole story is pretty much the Grumpy Possessive one claims the Sunshine One - Literally. And I ain't even mad.)

Here we get a gorgeously written tale that spins the events of the Upside Down in a different light. I don't want to spoil what that is, as it's not explicitly stated in the summary or tags, so you'll have to read to find out! This idea could easily be fleshed out into a much longer piece, but there's also something about just getting a small taste of an idea that is very enjoyable.

There is this persistent sense of danger beneath all the beautiful imagery. It's in the pacing of the story, in the way Billy needs to claim Steve. We get enough of a taste of this otherness to want more, to want to see exactly how everything unfolds.

TUMBLR | @wickedlydevious AO3 | wickedlydevious

× Weak Hands, Weak Lungs, Strong Heart ×

SERIES: Strong Heart

WORD COUNT: 2,771

CHAPTERS: 1/1

After the events at Starcourt Mall, Billy is recovering in the hospital and bored out of his mind. The only bright spots are when Max comes to visit.

And then Steve Harrington starts visiting too and that's even better.

There is a very beautiful light and warmth throughout this story. Billy's character feels so accurate, and the way he deals with being in the hospital and everything that entails is exquisitely portrayed here. What Billy has to deal with in the wake of the Mind Flayer grates against his entire personality, but it forces him to step outside of his comfort zone, outside of himself, and relearn how to interact with people, namely Steve.

The thing I loved most about this story is that we get to see these different facets of Billy, facets that maybe even he didn't really know were there, ones he never allowed himself to show because of his father. Still recovering, still being dependent on other people forces these different aspects of him into the world, and it's beautiful. It creates this very special sort of relationship between Billy and Steve that is just so pure and heart warming. I'll definitely be coming back to this when I need a spark of joy.

× Weak Backbone, Strong Convictions ×

SERIES: Strong Heart

WORD COUNT: 3,212

CHAPTERS: 1/1

After the events at Starcourt Mall, Steve starts bringing Max to visit Billy at the hospital.

And then Steve starts visiting on his own.

The sweetness continues with the second part of the Strong Heart series. The events of the first part are retold, but this time through Steve's POV. I've always loved the idea of telling the same events from different perspectives and this did not disappoint. The events may be the same, but you feel them differently than when they were told through Billy's perspective. Though the tone of the previous installation is ultimately uplifting, it's clear Billy is struggling. This part, however, is overflowing with hope, which only adds to the already beautiful feeling of the last piece. Don't think that because you already know the events that will take place because you read the last part that you shouldn't read this one. It's beautiful and moving and there are moments added that would be a shame to miss out on. I really hope this series continues, because it is wonderfully uplifting, but it stands strong all the same, just as it is.

× T(h)ree Mistakes ×

WORD COUNT: 4,559

CHAPTERS: 1/1

It’s their first Christmas in their own apartment and Steve reluctantly tasks Billy with getting the tree.

Mistakes are made.

This is a great read for the holidays. Billy's tree-getting adventures brought back so many memories of going to the tree farm down the road from our house as a kid and making a day of trying to find a tree that didn't look like trash and wouldn't break the bank. The feel of the story is cozy and sweet, like a warm and sleepy holiday morning. The kids, now teens, make a short but fun appearance that really makes this story feel like it's about found family.

This story is like coming home, rounding up all of your best friends you haven’t seen in ages, and making a night of the holidays. It’s sipping eggnog, the lights turned down low, and listening to the sweet croon of gentle music somewhere in the house. This story is comfort and happiness and love. Now I want some hot apple cider...

QUESTIONS? VISIT THE FAQ

FIND ALL VOLUMES HERE

#Harringrove #Harringrove fic #fic rec #creator spotlight #billy hargrove #steve harrington #billy x steve #steve x billy #Creator appreciation

63 notes · View notes

3cf · 4 years

Text

AoS Finale

It is the end and I have too many things in my head and too many feels, so I am just going to put out there a “few” things I really love about 7.12 and 7.13. I tried to kind of sort it out by character.

(Warning: forget proper English, it does no exist here, or at least probably even well less than usually).

Mack

This is the end and we get to have the iconic association of Mack and his axeshot gun one last time.

Love his sassy answer to the chronicoms coming for their faces: typical Mack one-liner (and Sousa’s comment afterward).

Him bounding with Sousa and showing him appreciation.

“Find me some duct tape”. I guess I appreciate comic relief Mack a lot.

Reunion at the bar with YoYo. awww

Director Mack building a Lola for Coulson, being with YoYo, being uncle Mack and all. Always there to be the SHIELD, leading his man. Love to see it.

Deke

When he imitates Fitz !!! Especially considering the fact that the posture is something that Deke actually unconsciously do quite regularly (something that many amazing “like Bobo like grandson” gifsets show perfectly). The scene takes very little time and it is cute and funny and a proof of the FitzSimmons Family bond. I love it so much.

When there are vibrations to open the door, Deke is in defense position to protect Nana in no time. Protective Deke

And then so sweet, and caring with his beloved Nana who is so lost.

Him figuring out what is the machine and proposes the plan to bring the chronicoms. Well played Deke.

CEO mode, I’m in charge of the operation vibe.

Mack telling him he is a great friends, thanking him, calling him agent Shaw and all.

Staying for the team and especially for FitzSimmons to have their happy ending and because he is competent with the tech. I wish we had more of a goodbye but time running out and all... He expressed that he could actually like being stuck in the 80s (7.8 I think), he found his place in this time and so he too can have a happy ending there, even if he does have to sacrifice seeing the team.

the new guy in charge *what? oops* “yeah!”. It is SO Deke.

(I really love what they did with Deke in s7, especially as his writting has been a diffucult journey sometimes).

They did mentioned him being in another timeline and being missed at the bar ...

Sousa

Well, AoS is really good at dynamics and relationship but they really nailed wrtting ships. In only 11 episodes they manage to make Daisy & Sousa love interests in a way that neither felt forced or rushed. I was a bit skeptical at first but I have to admit they made it work. Partly thanks to the whole loop in 7.9 as it gives different opportunities and less risk on Daisy’s part as he will not remember. So I did like the Sousy part of the episode.

“Impressive” “Thank you” I just found it hilarious.

Gentleman and very smart man: chronicoms becoming missiles. Hell yeah!

He got to be a part of SHIELD, see the universe and be with Daisy, so he is a happy man.

Coulson

Throwback to s2 (with the hand and) with Fitz’s tech against Gordon (Science biatch!)

We got to hear him say on last time the classic: I am Phil Coulson Agent of SHIELD

Smug Phil agains Sybil and all. Plus Coulson interacting with the villain is always good.

His relationship with May getting better by the minute.

Well, good news he does not feel like “dying” just yet, he enjoys the world, is crazy about Alya and all, I was expecting so much sadder but no! He got to be around quite happily!!

Coulson Academy!!!!!!!

LOLA !!

May

Phil & Melinda sorting things out. Both wondering who they are, because they have been through so much changes, expressing their appreciation for each other even after all of those changes... It was time they had a bit of time to address it and I’m happy they made it and it was in a very Philinda way.

Huging Daisy !!!! and once she felt like it might have been to impulsive, Daisy reassuring her. (Daisy is so happy, smiling so much).

Her banter with Coulson

The Cavalery !!!! My fav thing about May in the finale. So much trauma, so much fights but she made it, she can own that name now, make it mean something else. That’s just... woaw powerful and beautiful moment.

someone other than Coulson calls her Melinda during the bar/annual reunion scene ! (i was shocked but happy they are family after all).

Saying she hates her job and complaining is such a May moment. But like Coulson says she loves it and somehow she seems to be stuck to find and take care of her own little ducklings from now on. FitzSimmons and Daisy gone well there is an academy full of potential agents to form and help becoming their best version of themselves.

She really insists about Coulson passing by and it seems like she really wants to be closer to him.....

YoYo

YoYo killing it is always a joy to see.

Her little exchange with Sousa

I think we got one last turtle man from her at the bar.

She got her happy ending, things going well with Mack, kills it as an agent. She does what she always wanted, changing the world for the better, saving lives, giving hope. It fits her so well. I love that she works with Piper and Davis. (7.8 was such a great episode and it gives her her time to shine, the whole bouncing back storyline is so beautiful).

Daisy

Her being all happy about the kiss with Sousa, she simply radiates joy and excitement and there is a playful side too.

Happiness and hug when she sees Deke! Okay her moto was saving my sister Jemma (SISTER JEMMA!!!!) so I was very pleasently suprised by her relief and warm welcome of Deke.

Any scene where she uses her power.

Talking about Jiaying and being lost with Kora.

Going straight to hug Coulson at the bar and then to May. I love when she embraces her daughter status

That fight against “Mister I am always in the tag”. Pure Agent Quake. And the last quake... damn. (Thank you Kora on this one though.)

Happy Sousy building a relationship. Still with SHIELD, helping Kora to find a place. The series is in a good part about her leaning who she is and relearning when everything changes, finding a family, a place and she does it for Kora... Happy Ending for Daisy !!!

That last talk with Coulson

Fitz

That he is THE threat to the chronicoms, the one constant that make them loose.

When Fitz appears! and then his joy and the whole team’s joy.

He is back with his accent and gestures. Trying to explain stuff and all.

He asks Deke to team up with him on the machine. awww

Fitz was so well prepared for the whole memory thing. It was geartly done.

we had time flashback and FitzSimmons scenes.

the whole she remembers a bit of Fitz but not her feelings for him and then Fitz issaying that she forgot something that matters way more !!!!!! I mean he is hopelessly in love with her and he says that !!! Seriously such a magnificent proof of love for his little monkey. (because that left no doubt that they had a baby).

OUR EVERYTHING !!

Happy loving Dad Fitz !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

When Fitz arrived in the bar having trouble working I was so disturbed but it is just his little monkey. and LITTLE MONKEY like it is everybody’s headcanon about Dad Fitz but we got to hear in the show !!!!!

Jemma

Costume and can I have one stuff when she saw Daisy (+ Daisy and Deke’s yes). Cute and funny bit in the episode.

Smell his hairs!!!! When she says UNSTOPPABLE!!!

She called Z1 home !!!

two becomes one and three becomes one when putting the 084 together because no way they don’t have a child. so yes I love it/

Jemma’s ring beeing the key is such a Fitz and FitzSimmons thing to do.

we had time flashback and FitzSimmons scenes.

When she remembers,” what we are fighting for” ahhhhh

every scene with or about Alya. FitzSimmons Family in Z1.Mama Jemma ! I want it all.

Enoch

loved every single mention of him or small apparition I love both.Enoch

when the chronicoms say as we have always been... that punch in the gut. (though it does not make that much sense)

His ending is way less happy but 7.9 gave him a beautiful one no the less and it took the time to do it properly, it makes me cry so much but it really is a special moment and they did no rushed the scene for which I am very grateful.

Piper & Flint

I was so happy when they appeared on the screen, even if we did not see them much, I was expecting less, so good suprise.

Just all the Piper in 7.13, felt good to have her back.

anything you want -> Davis !!!!!!!!!!! Damn !!

Flint at the academy !! (May is going to have to take care to new ducklings).

Alya

Well I love that she exists. The little family is the cutest, they are so happy to be a little family, all the uncles and aunt seems to love her so much too. FtzSimmons as parents are adorable (and unstoppable).They are just so happy with their little life together and their own perthshire cotage. And she seems a bit special in a very FitzSimmons way so... I love it!

Also, the whole doing her own fish is so funny and cute. Especially with Little Girl Jemma talking about her project to study some special kinds of fishes in inescapable and the little ref to it when her memories are still a mess.

Other stuffs

Young John Garrett (I like him in his few episodes in s7).

Kora “redemption” but like mainly because she was very clearly being manipulated and because of Daisy. it is less heavy on Daisy like that and in some ways she got another chance with her biological family and she can do for her what other have done for her.

084 scattered through time and in pieces to not be seen by Sibyl & cie. It’s smart, 084 is also a classic of early seasons (one of the first mission, Skye, the whole obelisk...) and Enoch

I like that they say “what we are fighting for several times” but never really explicit it. (I think)

Happy endings for everyone !!! Honestly that does feel great. Plus, they are just happy to see each other again.

#Agents of SHIELD #aos #aos ramblings #aos 7.12 #aos 7.13 #aosspoiler #aos spoilers

4 notes · View notes