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friendly-alien-fucker · 5 months

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Cultural Differences

Warnings: non-sexual nudity, fluff

Pairing: yautja x gender neutral! reader

Summary: the beach episode, your yautja and you go for a swim and some shenanigans happen.

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For hunters who regularly, and quite literally, bathed in the blood of their enemies, yautia were surprisingly hygienic.

It was one of the first things you noticed when you agreed to explore the galaxy with your lover. They could be rolling around in mud, get beaten up and bruised with blood running down their mandibles, but they always returned home to you clean and smelling completely neutral.

It was pleasant, really. Seeing as you'd already made peace with saying goodbye to your sense of smell when you met them, having only known them as sludge-covered barbarians back then.

You smiled softly as you admired your body in the one-piece bathing suit and swimming trunks you'd picked for today. There were many things you didn't know about their species, in fact you still find yourself surprised by the gentler aspects of their society.

Mothers asking politely if their pups could touch your odd-looking dreads, elders stopping in their tracks to tell you you did a good job when they see the small rodent skulls you cleaned up and hung on your belt, or that group of overconfident youngbloods that promised to teach any yautja that decided your inferior strength was grounds to get touchy a lesson.

Their species was full of unexpected kindness. And the reason you were getting ready for a swim today was proof of it.

Yautja Prime, their home planet, wasn't quite what humans would call idyllic. The atmosphere was dense and hard to breathe in, the ground rocky with little vegetation. You'd compare it with a desert, except unlike a desert, their planet had a vast amount of water, stored in vulcano-like craters.

Only problem is, the temperature there is just barely below the boiling point of water. Way too hot for any human.

So after complaining to your mate for the upteenth time, they decided to surprise you with a little trip to another, much cooler planet. Your concerns about deadly creatures lurking being quickly shut down when they told you it was a place often sought out by elders to relax after they were done hunting.

So now all you had to do was pack your few things and board the small freighter you and a few other Yautja would be flying to get there.

The thought unnerved you a little, being so close to a bunch of strange Yautja, especially since your mate would be waiting on the planet already and therefore couldn't protect you if something happened. But even through your innate fear, you knew those thoughts were stupid.

These were trusted elders, not only were their hunting days over, but they would never bother trying to take down a lone, unarmed human. Especially since you were basically trapped, with nowhere to run or hide, and therefore way too easy prey, if they could call you prey at all.

So you grabbed your small bag full everything you'd need on your trip and made your way through the long halls until you reached a much smaller ship.

Standing a little further off, you watched as different Yautja conversed with each other and walked on board, feeling your dread rise regardless of wether it was logical or not.

You tried to make out what they were saying, but despite living amongst their people for a while now, their language still only sounded like random clicking to you. You sighed.

"Okay?" a deep voice interrupted your solitude.

You flinched as a big hand grasped at your shoulder, quickly disappearing at your reaction. "Sorry."

It was another Yautja, seemingly a little older than your mate, adorned with battle scars and markings and missing a tusk. Their voice sounded stiff and robotic, like they learned their English from computer recordings, which wasn't too odd. Many youngbloods had started to learn human languages to aid the relationship between your two species.

Which made you silently wonder why this elder was learning it. Regardless, you bowed your head respectfully, and used your basic knowledge in ASL to greet them. Hearing their rapid clicks, you couldn't help but crack a smile.

"Heeelo, hello." They huffed, placing their hand on your chin to make you look up at them. When you faced them again, their mandibles were spread widely - something you've come to understand as a smile of their own.

"Ooman. I know your language, speak with me." They growled, and you nodded sheepishly. Apparently learning the best through doing is a universal experience.

And like that, your little trip seemed just a little less terrifying.

Nin'tui, as you'd gotten to know them, had shared with you stories of their greatest hunts, occasionally switching to sign language when their English wasn't enough. And while, as expected, the other elders on the ship were less enthusiastic about your stay, they didn't bother to complain. There were even a few who'd join in to chat about their own battles and the planet you were about to visit.

All in all, the trip was less unnerving than you'd thought, and a lot shorter too. Your sense of time wasn't the best up in space, but you could swear it wasn't longer than two hours until the ship gradually slowed, before setting down onto rich brown earth.

Once you set your eyes on the surrounding scenery, you couldn't get out of the shuttle fast enough. If not for your traveling companion, you would've probably been scolded for the amount of Yautja you almost tripped by running outside as fast as you did. But there was no helping it- blue skies! Brown earth! And, most importantly, air that you could actually breathe in!

And when your feet finally hit the ground you couldn't help but let out a long and joyous laugh. "Aaaaaah, I can't believe we're actually here!"

"Believe it." a way too familiar voice called from behind you, making you spin around to throw yourself at them in excitement.

Without flinching, they simply caught you, holding you high in their arms as you all but assaulted their face with kisses and thank you's. Or at least that's what the other yautja must've thought, muttering amongst themselves as if they were viewing something scandalous, a few stepping closer to get a better view of the strange ritual.

But your mate simply purred, leaning into your affection as their voice rumbled against you "You should wait to express your gratitude until you've seen the waters!" they laughed, and you shook your head as you gave them a last kiss between the eyes.

"I'm just so happy to be here! Just look!" you jumped out of their arms, gesturing towards the fields of flowers "this planet is beautiful! Almost reminds me of some corners of earth..."

You smiled at the thought, and they chuckled as they put a large hand on your back. "We should walk with the others, the waters are not far."

And so the two of you walked slowly behind the larger group of yautja, them slowing their pace to match yours as you cheerfully took in your surroundings. Beautiful was truly the right word for it.

Tall grass with taller flowers that swayed gently in the wind, going on for kilometers until reaching a distant forest, that you imagined to be just as wonderful.

After about 30 minutes of walking, elongated by your habit of stopping to sniff every alien plant you could reach, you finally made it to the lake. About 500 meters of fresh water that seemed to almost glow in the sunlight.

Standing in awe, you barely registered your mate sliding your backpack down your shoulders and throwing it to the side. It was only when you felt a claw tug at your shirt that you snapped out of it, matching their equally confused expression.

"Don't you want to swim?" They asked, and you chuckled at the misunderstanding.

"Oh, yeah. These are my swimming clothes." you explained, yet their expression didn't seem to lighten.

"No, no. Swimming." they accentuated their words, pointing towards the water as if you simply didn't hear them the first time.

You nooded, dumbfounded, "Yes. Swimming." but as they continued to stare at you like an alien (heh), you shook your head "just- here, come on."

You took their hand, leading them towards the water and to your relief they followed without complaint. At the edge of the lake, you grinned up at them excitedly, before taking a leap, splashing them with the surprisingly mild-temperature water.

Though as you came to the surface and brushed your wet hair out of your face, you were not faced with the annoyed yet amused expression you'd expected on your mate, not that you were registering their expression at all since seeing them stand there in all their naked glory practically fried your brain within seconds.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" you yelled, making them jump slightly and their mandibles flare.

"What?" they asked, way too calm for your taste.

"You're naked!" you whisper-yelled, and they simply nodded, before jumping into the water next to you.

"Yes. Swimming." They repeated your words back to you with a very deadpan expression.

"But- love, no!" you were furious as you tried to explain this to them "We're not alone out here there are oth-" but as you looked to gesture at the others around you, you were met with even more naked yautja, unashamedly bathing in the sun.

Blood rushing to your face, you try to cover it with your hands, glad to be able to stand at this point in the water. You felt a hand lay itself on your shoulder.

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?" your mate asked quietly, bending down to meet you eye-to-eye. "I didn't know you'd be bothered by this. You were fine with me disrobing, I thought..."

You simply shook your head at them, forcing yourself to be a grown up and pry your hands from your eyes. "No...no." you sighed "I'm fine."

"But a warning would've been nice, I uhm..." you couldn't help but grin at your own embarrassment "I-I guess I just didn't expect to ever see any nude yautja aside from you, you know?"

Thankfully they didn't seem to judge you for it though, as they simply looked at you with that ever present curiosity. "Humans arent nude around each other?"

"We are but....usually just around friends and family, you know." you bite your lip as you dare take another glance at your surroundings "and usually only around our own species."

You can see them nodding from the corner of your eye, "I understand." yet something still seems to bother them.

"You are free to do as you please, however... you always encourage me to partake in your culture. Perhaps you should try and see this as an opportunity to partake in mine."

Their words stung. They were said without pressure or malice, a simple suggestion- but it stung. They had always gone out of their way to make you the most comfortable, this trip was proof of it, and you liked to think you were doing the same for them.

But were you?

"But what if they'll look?" you asked, your face still a shade darker just at the thought. "Then let them look." they replied in earnest "You are very attractive. Let them see what they don't have."

And people did look.

Though, to your surprise, no more than they usually do. Seeing a human walk around and do human things could only get so exciting you guessed, and nudity truly was natural to them.

Over time and with a little coaxing you were even comfortable enough to briefly leave the water, if only to get your towel and wrap it around yourself.

Letting yourself relax in the sun that, even hours later, didn't appear to go any lower, you're interrupted by the low purring of your mate. Smiling, you turn to face them.

"Thank you for bringing me here," you begin, only for them to interrupt "Thank you for coming. And," they truly seem grateful as they incline their head "thank you for 'stepping out of your comfort zone.'"

You chuckle at the human idiom. "My comfort zone is wherever you are." you say earnestly, and they simply purr louder in response.

#yautja #alien vs predator #💚original post💚#alien #slasher #yautja x human #alien x human #monster fucker #predator yautja #fluff #yautja fluff #requests? no #its a idk how many words post about something no one asked for ever but i wanted to write #didnt end how i imagined it to but yk how sometimed you have half an idea and just start writing?yeah

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musubiki · 7 months

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hidden mochi snuggles because lime cant help himself

#the cat witchs guild #the misc adventures of mochi and lime #tcwg #tmaomal #mochi #lime #limochi #art #ocs #original #fluff #feeling tired this weekend but i wanted to draw... something #i feel like its been a while since limochi so here we go #he pulls her on the side for short snuggles between class sometimes #(im feeling down) he tells her and just holds her hostage for a few minutes

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keydekyie · 18 days

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Ruyak being a pest (again)

#don't worry he's very gentle #he just likes to be annoying sometimes #tmatb iv #should be editing book III but I just want to draw cute things send help #g/t fluff #sfw g/t #g/t #tmatb #grace makes art

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whoopssteddiefeels · 1 year

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Penny in the Air

Robin is a lot of things: judgey, hyperactive, anxious, impulsive, talkative, loud- there’s a list okay, and she’s very familiar with it. High up the list is that she is very, very gay (if possible, she’s pretty sure she’s actually getting gayer. She blames Steve for this, as she’s pretty sure it has to do with being able to finally talk about her crushes to someone other than her reflection.)

The point is, she’s gay, so she’s not surprised that she notices first. The Steve-Eddie thing. Because it is, in fact, a thing at this point.

She knows Eddie is gay- knows it like the sky is blue and David Bowie rocks- because of, y’know, the way he is (if she had any doubt, the way he leaned in while calling Steve “big boy”, ew, killed it dead.) Her research suggests this is “gaydar,” but its very unfair, she thinks, that so far it has only detected exactly (2) gays, both men, making it pretty much useless. It has given her exactly 0 information on Vickie.

She empathizes with Eddie’s position. Feels it pang under her sternum when his eyes go soft watching Steve talk emphatically, hair flopping around in that ridiculous way it does. Knows how it must catch in his throat when his hand suddenly retracts halfway to Steve’s shoulder, going to his own hair to cover the aborted movement. Tries hard to not over-identify with the sharp tug he gives there, trying to snap himself out of it (fails because she did literally exactly that when Vickie was in the video store the previous day, almost as if he had seen and copied the mechanism).

The part of the puzzle she can’t figure out is Steve. She’s annoyingly aware that he likes (groan) boobies, thanks Fast Times, and he isn’t treating Eddie like a girl whose number he’s trying to score. That being said, whenever the older boy appears, Steve lights up like a damn Christmas tree. Affection doesn’t have to be romantic; she knows this- wants to hit several of the kiddos over the head with it whenever they allude to her dating Steve- but empathy for Eddie is tinting her judgement, and once you put on the gay rose-tinted glasses it’s hard to unsee the possibility. It certainly seems like flirting. Rearranging his hair every three seconds, drawing Eddie’s eyes to the mane that is his pride and joy. Getting what she can only describe as unnecessarily close when he squeezes by Eddie in the video store aisles or whoever’s living room they’re sprawled in, hands brushing a shoulder, back, or one time his hip under the pretense of maintaining balance. The soft blush whenever Eddie flirts hard in a way he knows can be passed off as a joke. The honest megawatt smile Steve gets whenever Eddie starts in on his usual antics is infinitely more endearing than the smolder he’s learned to use like a weapon.

She usually knows exactly what Steve is thinking or feeling before he does. They’ve got that whole platonic soul mate telepathy thing, and he’s easily the center of her social world. So, since she can’t tell what he’s thinking (other than the obvious but unhelpful “Eddie, yay!”), she’s 99.9% sure, from experience, ok, that it means he isn’t thinking. Like at all. So, what she’s witnessing is instinctive, his body just moving into Eddie’s space because it feels correct, and he hasn’t paused to think about it.

He’s walking that line of comfortable and affectionate that is ambiguously intimate. Could be platonic, could be more. It would be frustrating for anyone with a crush, but she knows from bitter experience with straight-girl crushes that Eddie must be going insane. And yes, Robin and Eddie are friends, but not close enough for her to open a conversation with “So you’re obviously gay and into Steve, my best friend who I talk to every second of every day, and no he hasn’t mentioned it, and neither have I. What’s up with that?” Similarly, she can’t quite figure out how to bring it up to Steve without accidentally outing Eddie in the process.

That’s the main reason she’s keeping her mouth uncharacteristically shut on the subject. She is not, however, above the occasional raised eyebrow, ok, especially as Eddie’s flirting slowly becomes ridiculously obvious. The man is literally leaning on the counter, chin on his hand, mooning up at Steve through his eyelashes. Steve has his hip propped on the opposite side, leaning into the shared space. How are either of them this oblivious, seriously.

~*~

She’s there when the penny finally drops.

They’re not even watching a romantic movie, it’s fucking Life of Brian, all three of them calling out their favorite lines along with the actors, throwing things and generally goofing off. If she takes the armchair to force the boys together on the couch, she doesn’t think anyone can blame her. If she’s feeling a little smug that they both sit in the middle, right next to each other, instead of taking opposite ends, she keeps it to herself. She might not want to stick her foot right in the middle of that mess, but she’s not above setting booby traps.

Robin couldn’t tell you exactly when Steve’s arm went around Eddie’s shoulder; it was somewhere between Eddie practically climbing into Steve’s lap for a “Biggus Dickus” re-enactment, the closeness and flirting safely enveloped in humor, and Steve attempting to force Eddie to “haggle” for the bag of chips. When she glances over from the safety of her armchair, Steve’s arm is trapped behind Eddie’s head, draped over his shoulder on the opposite side. Eddie, usually a constant ball of fidgety motion, is frozen stiff like he’s trying not to scare off a nervous rabbit. Even in the blue light coming off the screen she can see the flush coloring his usually nocturnal-pale cheeks.

The thing is, Steve had just discussed this move with her. Told her to invite Vickie to movie night, recommended light, easily joked off roughhousing and settling an arm around her in a way specifically gaged to judge the reaction. Which means he knows. No way he hasn’t finally figured out what his lizard brain has clearly been screaming for months (seriously, she deserves a medal. Someone tell her future girlfriends about her stamina), not with the way he’s twirling a soft brown curl around and around his finger. He must know Eddie can feel that. And oh. Steve is not-so-subtly glancing to his right, trying to gage that reaction like they discussed, to see if this is ok.

Yup. Robin needs to be literally anywhere else. She tries to be subtle (insert laugh here), muttering “bathroom” and legging it out of the room, seeking the safety of the kitchen. She wasn’t worried though- odds are she could start playing trumpet and those two wouldn’t hear it past the tension of the moment.

~*~

In addition to gay, Robin is also easily bored. She hums along to “Always look on the bright side of life,” drifting in from the living room, crunching on some peppery crackers she found in a cabinet in a way that vaguely matches the song’s rhythm. She would just leave the boys to whatever they were going to do (yuck, don’t think about it), but unfortunately the two people most likely to give her a ride home were occupied (seriously, no thinking about it). She’d held out for as long as she could, really, but if the movie was ending, surely she had given them enough time?

Hoping she wasn’t going to regret it, she peaked out of the kitchen, and was relieved to see that 1) everyone still had clothes on and 2) Steve and Eddie were cuddling. Fucking finally.

“SO, BOYS,” she boomed (remember loud is on the list of things she is), trying not to enjoy the way two ridiculous heads of hair jumped and then shifted away from one another anxiously. “Who finally lost the longest game of gay chicken I’ve ever seen?”

Steve’s head makes an audible thump as it drops against the back of the couch, hands coming up to rub at his face as she rounds the furniture to face them, feeling deliciously smug. Eddie gave up any pretense and buried his face in Steve’s shoulder, sweater and hair completely hiding his face.

“Shut up Robin, go away,” Steve groans.

“Nope! This has been the slowest burn of all time, you guys were killing me. I have to balance it out by being just as insufferable.” she chirped, doing her best Steve impression, hands on her hips and eyebrow quirked.

“Technically, I would say we both won gay chicken since neither of us pulled back. No chickens here. Roosters only, in fact.” Eddie surfaces with a smug little smile, dimples on full display.

“Oh you’re definitely a cock Munson, I’ll give you that,”

“Don’t make me flip you the bird-”

“That’s a bit of ostritch-”

“Well toucan play at that game-”

“I’m so happy I like tits-“

“Why me?” Steve grumbled at the same time Eddie dropped his teasing tone to ask, “Wait what?”

“Me? Lesbian. You? Obviously gay. Steve has been flirting back at you for months you dingus.”

“I’ve been what?” Steve sits up straight, suddenly laser focused on Robin. “I have not. I only realized, like, a week ago-”

He was seriously going to be the death of her.

“Steve. Stephen. My guy. What would you say if I told you a girl had been giving me a hair show, the unnecessary squeeze-by, and big eyes? Consistently. For weeks.”

Eddie starts laughing. Then cackling. Steve went an even deeper shade of red, though she could tell this one was more indignant ruby than embarrassed scarlet.

“Thank you,” Eddie wheezed out, fighting down another fit, picking himself up from where he had slid down the couch. “Oh my god, thank you for fucking noticing that. He was wasn’t he? I thought it was just in my head, y’know, and Gareth always said I tend to imagine signs that aren’t there.”

“Oh I know, you think you have a hard time, girls are so physically affectionate platonically, it’s impossible to tell-”

“Ok. Done with this conversation!” Steve interrupted, standing up between the two of them, hands furiously combing through his hair.

Robin only grinned wider at Eddie. “So, Munson, care to give me a ride home?”

“You know, Buckley, I would be delighted.”

“Hey now-” Steve tried to interject as the two of them moved towards the door.

“Why thank you, kind sir.”

“Don’t mention it, fair lady. Your chariot awaits.”

“Wait, hang on, Eddie-” Steve’s tone shifted from confused to plaintive as she stepped out into the night. And she resolutely pretended to not hear Eddie’s reply before he closed the door behind them.

“Sit tight, big boy, I’ll be right back!”

#steddie #steddie fluff #Robin Buckley #Robin POV #steve harrington/ eddie munsion #fic #ficlet #sometimes i write things #fluff #Am I the only one who remember Life of Brian? Biggus Dickus was iconic #I too am a tired lesbian #platonic stobin #gratuitous bird puns #i just think my writing style sounds like Robin so I wanted to try something #letterkenny reference if you squint real hard

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beanghostprincess · 5 months

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I think a very normal amount about Crocodile and Mihawk genuinely seeing Buggy's value. Genuinely appreciating his dream and his sense of adventure. Mihawk (bored-to-death swordsman who desperately needs something new) and Crocodile (the man who only cares about business because the last time he wanted something a kid with flip-flops sent him flying) seeing that the clown they're only using as bait and punching bag is actually the one with the biggest pirate heart. They realize he has charisma and followers for a reason and it's the fact that his "fake it til you make it" persona is actually built above his true dream. The words of fake confidence he speaks are actually words he genuinely wants to believe, but always fears will backfire because he doesn't have anything to rely on (unlike Shanks. Because even if Shanks doesn't need to rely on anything, he used to wear the trust and love of their captain in his head and everyone else supported him to be his legacy). So they end up seeing that they can do more with him. Together. Mihawk and Crocodile might have the money and the people but Buggy has the dream. They can go higher. They can be more than what they thought they were. Buggy shows them this side of himself between tears and sudden yelling and they have to admit that... They used to have dreams. Long forgotten ones. And okay, Buggy might not be the king of the pirates. They're so not saying that. But they can go higher.

They see this side of him and they never say it out loud (and even if they did, Buggy wouldn't even notice because he's busy begging them not to kill him. Which, y'know, fair) but something changes inside of them. Perhaps it's a faint, tiny sense of protectiveness. Maybe affection. Some type of appreciation they can't quite name because it would be too embarrassing for them to even say they care for this clown but- But it's there. Something.

So they keep Buggy around and he starts to feel less like a punching bag and more like somebody they care about. Kind of. And you know what? Maybe the damn clown can become the king of the pirates if he has already made the impossible happen once.

#somebody should put me down honestly i am going crazy #is it the fever am i starting to get delirious what the fuck did i write #anyway i think these three should make out and then a comically sitcomy camera should point at doffy and shanks crying #i'm making cross guild romantic and not just sexy !! behold the powers of fluff and hurt/comfort see what they can do #no but seriously i need these two to appreciate buggy bc although i love buggy being their little chihuahua sometimes i really want love #one piece #buggy the clown #dracule mihawk #sir crocodile #cross guild #the ship between these three is just cross guild right like why would you need another word #to me it's romantic in canon too who cares

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drarryruinedme7 · 1 year

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Harry looks sideways at Draco. They’re on their bed, ready to go to sleep.

Draco grabs his usual body cream from the nightstand, the coconut scented one. It’s the one with glitters in it.

You’re fifty, Draco.

So? Is there a law forbidding fifty year old people from using glittery body creams?

Harry would say that yes, there is, just to spite him, but not tonight.

Tonight, Harry shakes his head while he recalls every memory of their thirty years spent together. He smiles as he watches Draco spreading cream all over his legs, still so long, still so soft, still so hot.

“Thirty years,” Harry mutters.

Draco pauses for a second, legs glittering. “What?”

“I said —” Harry reaches out, traces an imaginary path down his husband’s shin. “I said — we’ve been together thirty years. That’s a long time.”

He knows he sounds sappy and he feels that too. His voice breaks and when a wicked smile appears on Draco’s face, Harry knows his mind is quickly filling with images from their shared years as well; of their fights, the first tentative and verymuchsecret dates, their first kiss, the many, many christmases, birthdays, lazy mornings spent in bed cuddling.

Draco covers Harry’s hand with his own. God. Harry knows everything about that hand; the small blue mole on the pinkie, the wrinkles time drew on it, the always, always, always, perfect nails.

“Are you trying to tell me it’s too much?”

“I’m trying to tell you,” Harry says, all too happy he’s now 100% able to discern Draco’s use of sarcasm-cause-I’m-embarrassed, “I still love you. More and more. Everyday. I look at you with your body cream and I just— love you so fucking much.”

Draco blushes. How is it possible to love someone so deeply after all this time?

“So sappy.” He turns back to his nightly routine. Looks at Harry out of the corner of his eye. “I love you too,” he murmurs.

#drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #drarry squad #draco x harry #fluff #idk what this is #just a nightly thought #sometimes I just want them to be cute and sappy and in love #drarry fic #drarry ficlet #drarry fanfic #established relationship #married drarry #mywriting

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nano30cm · 3 months

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ain't they cute?

#reprise reprise #total drama fanart #td sam #td dakota #td dakotazoid #if brick and jo are my '500k slow burn enemies to divorcees' pair #then sam and dakota are my 'coffee shop au fluff rated E for everyone' pair #they just like each other and they want to hang out and get to know each other #like they deserve a normal beautiful relationship and ya know what! they get it even when dakota is a kaiju!#idk what to tell you their love is simple and straightforward and struggle free #theyre both streamers obviously #sam streams vidya gaems dakota streams mukbangs and cute farming chill streams #did i mention they live on a farm? they do #neither one of them does any farmings i just think dakota should be allowed to snuggle lambs sometimes #her dads a billionaire you get it. theres nothing complicated about this

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invinciblerodent · 5 months

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Another case of the "I'm not done"-s seems to have possessed me, because the immortality and rebirth of elven souls and this fucking elf/vampire!elf romance I'm doing right now is kind of ruining me.

Because, well... look.

This shit is ripe for angst.

For so long, there is no real reason to think much about the passage of time. Death, it's but an abstract far in the future- a bridge to be burned when they get to it. It's easy enough to practically forget that mortality is a thing to account for: with both the endless stretch of centuries they have and her body as unchanging as his, that thought can be kicked further down the road for what feels like it might even be an indefinite amount of time. Their lives just inch along, endlessly, and twine together like the roots of an ancient forest, building around- and with one another. Friends come and go, live and die, and yet, every moment, every day, is permeated by the other's presence: even in their "sleep", they're reliving shared memories (there is scarcely another kind, by now) while holding one another.

Talking about which of their adventures they chose to remember in Reverie is one of his favorite parts of the night.

Until one evening, as she opens her eyes to greet both him and the nightfall with a smile, he catches... just the faintest opaque, silvery glint in her pupils. It's barely a flash, gone in an instant, as if it was merely a trick of the light, but the thought, like a pesky insect, begins buzzing in his head. It will not let him rest.

With this new thought gnawing at him, he can't not see that there's almost a... strange distance, to her now. Even with this hazy half-awareness, it would have slipped his note if he hadn't come to know her quite so intimately over the past half millenium, if he hadn't memorized her cadence and heard her every loving thought as if it was his own. But he's attuned to her: even as her fingers glide through his hair, and her lips speak her words of love like they have so many times before, the same words, they... ring slightly hollow, robotic, automatic in their sweetness now, and once the dreaded Sun begins inching over the horizon and he's forced back into the shadows once more, her kiss goodbye lingers just one second longer, she holds him just a touch tighter before she'd be out the door.

All day, he circles the darkened room like a trapped animal, mind flush with thoughts of robotic words, silver glints, and a creeping dread. Surely, it cannot be what he thinks. It cannot. It wasn't a half-moon, it's not the Transendence, it was merely a... a reflection off something, moonlight bouncing off a silvered picture frame, or the twinkle of a magelight lighting the street glancing through an improperly closed curtain, a... a stomach bug that she's toughing out and is too stubborn to say anything about, something. It cannot be what he thinks, fears that it was.

The day drags on, the hour he'd expect her back comes and then passes, and when she returns, it is closer to sundown than it normally would be. Usually when she must leave for the day, she tries to time her return so that they can rest together, and then emerge from their chambers at the exact moment of nightfall to maximize the amount of time shared, the time he can walk free with her on his arm, but today, she returns with darkness on her heels, and bittersweet sorrow marring her face.

"Arael, we need to talk," she says, and the beloved endearment in their shared native tongue, 'heart' and 'hearth', 'center' and 'lover' in a single word, turns to acid in his ears. Instantly, he knows what she's going to say.

"How long have you known." It's not a question in tone, only phrasing- the hiss of his own voice feels alien in his throat. "When were you planning on telling me."

"It's been... a few days."

A few days. A few days, she's been...! He can't bring himself to think the word 'dying'. He can't. His knees give way under the weight of her words, and he crumples onto the nearest chair.

"You.... should have told me right away." He wants so dearly to be furious. His hands itch to rip, to tear, to destroy everything, his tongue aches to spit bile that'd make her feel exactly the pain he does in this moment... Gods, it was so easy to grow complacent and start believing in forever, to stop counting the hours, the days, the years, and still, it's her godsdamned near-forgotten mortality that's come knocking-- now, that his life is inexorably intertwined with hers, that she's been the other half of his soul for long enough to see the birth and death of friends and enemies, the rise and fall of monarchs, nations. And yet, her life's thread is soon to be clipped, while his must stretch on, infinite.

He buries his face in itching palms and swallows the bile to make room for the flood of grief. "I could have prevented this," he whispers now, "We could have had the chance, at forever... forever, if I could have turned you, if only I had-- if I--"

A soft hand on his shoulder stills him now. "Arael," she repeats, and traces a line to his chin, gently urging him to look at her. "I could not have dreamed of a more blissful, blessed life, than the one I shared with you. But--"

"Don't say it!" She winces as he snaps, and his hand is now grasping her wrist, insistent, hard enough to almost hurt, as he presses her palm against his cheek. "Don't, it's not over yet-- she may be calling, but you don't have to answer, you can stay--"

"I can't, my love."

"But--!"

"Arvandor is calling my soul, Astarion. The Gate is open. Sehanine has shown me; I must answer."

"But not yet, there's still time, you--!"

Her thumb gliding feather-light over his lips cuts off his desperate shout. "I have time enough to get my affairs in order," she says, her voice barely above a whisper, "but I can delay it no longer than maybe another tenday. For now, please... simply be with me."

That night, they make love. Tender, aching love that leaves them both tearful in one another's arms- his whole body shakes, racked with heavy sobs as he buries his face in her chest, as if that way he could melt into her, to keep her here, keep her safe, keep her for himself, or... or follow her, anchor his soul to hers, stow away and smuggle himself into the afterlife that rejected him, so they can be reborn together, find one another again, have another six hundred years, and another, and another...

Hopeless. A fool's desperation, no more. There's no tricking the Seldarine: he had rejected rebirth in favor of this wretched, eternal half-life the moment Cazador's fangs sunk into his flesh so long ago now, and his soul was rent from Arvandor. There's no changing that now, no fighting it, and no putting it off longer either. So he kisses her through the sobs once more, makes love to her once more, and drinks deep from her once more, willing his tongue to carve this memory of her taste, her essence, her love as deep into his mind as it may.

She takes the promised tenday to get her affairs in order, and to set up all that may only be done during sunlit hours: she organizes herself a nighttime funeral, arranges for her assets to be dealt with as she may, and makes sure to hold him tight, to mourn with him as if she herself wasn't the one dying. And each night, she speaks sweet, reassuring nonsense of the permanence of memory, of rebirth, and the aching, heartrending beauty of gentle endings.

And once no more minutiae is left to handle, there is no more delaying the inevitable.

She is laid to rest in a modest ceremony, in a small circle of trusted friends, under the light of a waning moon.

He mourns, bitter and alone, for years- barely leaving his chambers out of necessity, flitting through the nights as a ghost not entirely unlike the one he was so long ago, until one evening he wakes to find the pain... bearable. There will quite possibly never not be a wound on his soul now, but even the deepest wounds, they scar over: there's new, tender flesh, pink and gnarled, stretching over the void of her absence now. And life, it continues as it does, relentless.

Decades pass. The new flesh, it toughens, thickens, until it can scarcely be seen, unless you know where to look for it: the loss now lives only in the absent-minded seeking of her warmth in his cold slumber, in the automatic gesture of taking two wine glasses from the cabinet only to set one back down; it lives behind the locked door of her untouched workshop and in the slip of parchment left between the yellowed pages of the book she had never finished reading.

Until one evening, shortly after nightfall, there is a knock, hard and insistent, on the door.

His body redies itself for a fight, as if a hunter might be so bold as to announce their arrival- but curiosity, it's too hard to resist, and he scarcely makes an effort.

It's... an elf. But not any elf- a woman, younger, taller, and fuller in figure than she was, and her hair, it's a tightly curled warm chestnut rather than her blood-red waves, but it's unmistakable: her features, they are exactly the same. The same fire amber eyes, the same freckles dotting her cheekbones, even the same raised mark at the edge of her jaw that sits there like an insect had folded its wings and chosen to make its home on her skin. And the stranger speaks, with her voice, before he could find his own.

"So you do live!" she says, equal parts disbelieving and relieved, "Or, well, something like that. I could tell that you were a vampire, from the-" she gestures vaguely to his face, "-fangs and all, but I still wasn't sure I'd ever actually find you."

There's... a prickle of understanding. It's her, but... not quite. Her soul. Her, but born anew. And she returned in a way, to reminisce, to meet him once more- and his mouth opens, but the words, wary and elated and tender at the same time, get lost on their way to his lips.

It's an imperfect replica of her laugh that leaves the woman's mouth. "Gods, don't gape at me like a beached carp like that! I've been seeing nothing but your damn face in my trance for decades now; I was looking for you, hoping you could answer some questions I have." The familiar stranger flashes her mischievous smile. "Can I come in? I feel we have a lot to talk about."

There is no love in this. But, there's nevertheless something... bolstering, in the unique opportunity he can present to the new owner of her soul: the opportunity to get to know, truly know, who she once was. Halting and strange as it may be, they do talk quite a long time, and when she leaves, it's with gratitude, and a short, awkward, one-armed hug that she bids her farewell.

And time stretches, infinite yet again.

As long as he may live, her soul, it continues seeking his across however many lifetimes, until one day, the strange elf finds the door in their hazy memories hanging off its hinges, and the home, collapsed and empty, maybe for decades now.

Occasionally, it is still said that in each generation, there may very well be an elf born whose soul feels an irresistible need to make a curious, solitary pilgrimage to the ruins of a city once known as Baldur's Gate, and hope against hope to find a pale man with red eyes wandering the empty streets.

And maybe, a woman who had once lived there so many centuries ago was right: there's an aching, heartrending kind of beauty in that.

#squirrel plays bg3 #squirrel writes #astarion #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #look it's the closest thing to actual fic that I've written in like 6 years #there needs to be a Cool Internet Slang Abbreviation for 'head in my hands'#i've decided right this second that i'm going to make it happen and just use 'himh'#himh take this away from me #i feel a weird urge to add just one or two more words because this is 2022 words it seems #but even though it's def not perfect i kinda don't want ot keep touching it #ANYWAY have quick and dirty and hastily written angsty fluff sometime far far far into the future

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sasanka-27 · 2 months

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Cozy movie night ✨💙💚

#destiel #destiel fanart #spn #castiel #dean winchester #spn fanart #my art #sasanka27 art #deancas #hunter husbands #just having movie night #they are retired from hunting life everyone is alive and free #and happyyy #okay now i gotta go sleep #inwas oddly productive despite feeling not that great so i used it to my advantage and finished this #fluff im all about fluff #im not in artsy angst phase yet although i want to sometimes heh

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clownprince · 1 year

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Look. Don't get me wrong. I love the batjokes fandom literally everyone I've interacted with has been SO nice for such an insane ship it's a surprisingly chill fandom.

That being said... sometimes I feel Weird because a lot of the community (not all! but a large part) is like haha yeah my favorite fucked up toxic problematic ship love how twisted it is >:) batman wants to fuck that clown even though he literally killed his whole ass son it's so fucked I love it.

And that's fine! No problem with that. Power to you.

But I'm just over here like... what if they both got better together and processed their trauma and Joker made amends with everyone and everyone was happy and content as a family.

Like, the most compelling thing for ME in Batjokes is easily Bruce's refusal to view Joker the way most other people do. Even in arcs where he does dehumanize Joker, he at the very least makes an attempt to understand him. Everyone else is just like yeah, he's evil, he's just doing this shit because he enjoys it because he's a monster. But even when their relationship is at its worst, like in Joker War, Batman tries to understand where Joker is coming from. He doesn't just assume oh yeah Joker is just doing this because he's evil there's no logic behind his crimes he just enjoys it.

Bruce actually understands that Joker is trying to show him something, i.e., that he isn't being Batman right (in Joker's opinion). And even after Joker literally tears down his life, fucking reanimates his dead father figure to torment him and re-enacts his childhood trauma on the city, Bruce STILL ends up agreeing that he had a point!

Like to ME... Batjokes is about loving someone so transcendentally that you devote your entire existence to helping them. It's about having compassion for someone even after they commit horrific atrocities. It's about loving someone who everyone else hates and views as a monster. It's about someone loving the parts of someone that they consider terrible and unlovable. It's about being misunderstood your entire life and finally finding someone who gets it. It's about love for one person motivating you to stay alive in a world that's been nothing but cruel to you. It's about finding someone who makes everything awful that's ever happened to you seem worth it. But most importantly it's about the refusal to give up on someone who everyone else has long since declared a lost cause.

#i just feel weird sometimes bc i'm like MUCH more compelled by the softer parts of batjokes #collapses to my knees. i just want them to be happy your honor #just a silly little ramble idk #batjokes #just like. bruce's consistent caring for joker even after all the shit he's done. ouhhhhhhighhihh #bruce's capacity to have compassion for people doing the most horrific shit #is so so special and important to me #but it just hits especially hard with joker #especially because they're both afraid of getting better.#anyway #and obviously there are a solid amount of people who like softer batjokes ik that #it just feels to ME like the majority of people prefer a darker more fucked up dynamic. like more comic accurate lmao #which is valid and fine. but i'm just like. sitting over here with my unrealistic fluff...

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whitleyschn33 · 5 months

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Actually hi, no, can we talk about how the Punderstorm is the physical manifestation of a mental or emotional problem, it singles out Blake and Yang specifically, putting them in a situation where they're far apart with a gaping chasm before them, and the only way for them to be able to truly come together is to "say things they've never said to each other before" and bridge the gap between them -

-and instead of addressing any of the actual problems that should be keeping them from reaching an understanding with each other, instead of exploring the idea that maybe these problems going unaddressed is the reason that they aren't already officially dating even though they've been acting like they are for the last two volumes, instead of finally coming back to the arguments, hurt feelings, and trauma from the Mistral arc that were never properly resolved, instead of finally talking through those problems and coming together now having a new understanding of each other and able to move forward, not with a massive chasm of misunderstanding and disconnect that drives them apart emotionally, but finally together again, instead of any of that -

They just have the two compliment each other and reassure each other about things that were never an issue in the past. Like, Yang's big line is "I like that you've never been intimidated by me. Even when you didn't like me all that much," - since when has Yang had an issue with intimidating people? And she's never brought up anything about liking Blake for not being afraid of her (which is ironic, giving how much more subdued Blake has become in later volumes). And then after Blake says that she was wary of people, she says "But you never gave up on them. Even when they hurt you. You never give up. You know what matters to you."

LIKE??

Yang, she left you, remember? That was the entire issue back in Volume 5, that you felt like she did give up on you, just abandoned you without a reason or goodbye - why are you now reassuring her that she doesn't give up on people? It's literally only Ilia that fits this idea of "you don't give up on people even when they hurt you", and she did leave Ilia initially when she left the White Fang. This doesn't feel like "something Yang never told Blake before", something Yang never actually told Blake would be "I was hurt when you left, I felt like you abandoned me, like I was nothing to you. I understand now why you did that, but it still hurt that you didn't even say goodbye" and then they can take a step forward and continue on with their heart to heart -

But nope. The things they never said to each other before, the problem that are said to be more mentally or emotionally impactful than the crossroads RWJ are in, is being able to call each other smart and brave and be all fluffy even though they've had absolutely no trouble being affectionate with each other for the past two and a half volumes.

And it kills me because there's something in here that could be so compelling, a few different somethings actually.

Having Yang and Blake act like everything is resolved between them, trying to act on those budding feelings for each other throughout V7/V8 but one or both of them awkwardly pull back each time, not quite able to cross that divide because those issues weren't ever actually resolved, and now it's time to finally be able to address the problems so they can finally have what they both want.

During V7 and 8 they try to let it go after the fight with Adam but tempers are still short, with the two awkwardly clashing and arguing with each other all the time - over Mantle, Ironwood, Salem, etc. They're both feeling hurt and unsure what to do - they don't want to fight, but they keep falling into arguments that make it difficult to work together, even having a fight during the Punderstorm, so the Ever After puts them in timeout to clear the air and stop this wound from festering any longer so they can work as a team.

Yang grappling with her love for Blake and her hurt at being left behind, trying so hard to just be friends again because Adam's gone now and Blake's here and she's happy with Sun, it's fine right? She never actually told Blake about any of the things she felt after she left, but it's over now, so no need to bring up the past, yeah? Trying to put both love and hurt behind her but still overwhelmed by both, culminating with an argument in V8 that's left unresolved until this point in v9 where Yang finally gets to talk about everything she feels towards Blake and so they can finally be on the same page again and start to actually heal.

But no. We get fluff. Instead of any resolution to any of the problems that should have been resolved years ago, we get a confession built on issues that weren't issues and was literally forced onto the characters by a plot contrivance. Okay.

#rwde #rwby9 #i just get frustrated sometimes #because there's things about b/b that i really want to like #but all of those things were completely glossed over by the writers #for the sake of fluff

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agentc0rn · 24 days

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I know there has been a fair amount of people that have reacted to my work but are there any more terapagos & az appreciators in the wild? Or do I need to work on making more propaganda/j.

#I don’t mean to try to pander or force people to like them but I also just wanna spread my passion for these underrated folks #like aside from their main lore establishments and well…underused roles and memes #I wanna share more epic #fluff and angst moments that further expands on their potential #But anyways I’m always grateful for you guys for bearing with my ramblings and enjoying them haha #I love creating first and foremost #but sometimes it kinda overtakes me to the point where I want people to feel that same feeling? Hard to explain but yeah #if you don’t like them that’s totally and obviously okay. they don’t have much to work with so it’s understandable and reasonable.

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pixlezz · 5 months

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lacy oh lacy [i just loath you lately]

name; lacy oh lacy [i just loath you lately] relationship; akutagawa ryuunosuke/nakajima atsushi rating; teen and up audiences word count; 3,236 summary;

“Don’t sacrifice yourself for me,” Atsushi replied rather seriously, and upon Akutagawa looking over at the white-haired teen he noticed the somber expression over the other along with his ombré eyes trained on the ground.

Ryuunosuke stayed silent as he allowed his fingers to slightly fidget with the bandage on his arm. It was wrapped too tight, as always. The weretiger was always afraid of Ryuunoske bleeding out should he tie the bandages too loose.

“Weretiger.”

“Say it.” Atsushi interrupted as he looked up at Ryuunosuke. His sunset-coloured eyes peered into Ryuunosuke's coal-coloured ones. “Say you won’t do stupid shit like that and get yourself hurt.

Ryuunosuke just stared at the younger with his determined gaze. There was something almost comical about it, however, there was also something… almost beautiful about it. And oh, Ryuunoske hated that too.

atsushi wraps akutagawaz arm in bandagez and they have a heart to heart (also it doesn't go as bad as my last sskk fic)

(basically i just decided to post one of my favorite fics that I've written from ao3 to tumblr just because and i might do so with my otherz idk yet .D)

ao3 link -> https://archiveofourown.org/works/50201491

________________________________________

“I hate you so much,” Ryuunoske said with an exasperated sigh as he allowed Atsushi to roll his eyes as he wrapped his arm in a bandage.

“I’m not the one who told you to dive in front of me.” Atsushi retorted sharply as he snipped the bandage with a careful claw before retracting it.

“You would have gotten hit,” Ryuunoske replied simply, however, they could both hear the underlying tone underneath his words—something about how Dazai-san wouldn’t like his prized knight to be scuffed by a nobody ability user.

“I have regeneration abilities, genius,” Atsushi replied with a sigh before tapping Akutagawa’s forehead. “Did that ever cross your thick skull?”

Ryuunoske stayed silent at that rebuttal, simply letting out a sigh as if he still couldn’t believe he was in the weretiger’s presence.

“Guess not,” Atsushi replied in a bland tone as Ryuunoske did everything he could not to send a tendril of Rashomon at the weretiger.

Oh, how he hated him.

Atsushi let out a sigh as he looked over Akutagawa with a calculating and firm gaze before his eyes slightly softened looking at the older.

“At least I know that you’re all better if you’re about to attack me.” Atsushi teased with a slight snort causing Akutagawa to furrow his thin brows.

“How are you so certain I’m about to attack you, Weretiger?” Akutagawa retorted as Atsushi let out a soft hum.

“Your finger is fidgeting. I know you’re considering using Rashomon to shut me up.” Atsushi said in a confident manner as he pulled himself off of the ground and grabbed the heap of bandages from the floor.

“I’m surprised you picked up on that,” Akutagawa responded as he let out a soft cough. “Perhaps you don’t just have a spiderweb and a marble in that head of yours.”

Atsushi let out another chuckle as he turned back to face Ryuunosuke with his hand on his hip. “Your vast amount of ways that you call me dumb never cease to amaze me.” He said with an eye roll as he walked back towards Ryuunosuke and sat beside him with a sigh.

“Akutagawa?”

“What.”

“Weretiger.”

“Say it.” Atsushi interrupted as he looked up at Ryuunosuke. His sunset-coloured eyes peered into Ryuunosuke's coal-coloured ones. “Say you won’t do stupid shit like that and get yourself hurt.

The way Atsushi’s mouth was curved in a frown, however, the edge of it slightly twitched. The way Atsushi’s eyes held so many emotions. All from guilt, anger, annoyance, and… care.

He cared.

Ryuunosuke wasn’t sure just how much but… the weretiger was never good at hiding what he thought. He hated that too.

The ravenette swallowed hard before nodding his head. “Okay.”

“Okay, what?” Atsushi retorted sharply.

He hated Atsushi’s sharp tongue too. Hated how the younger ones always had a savvy or stupid response. More so he hated how Atsushi’s tongue could either deliver the softest and most genuine words that affected whoever was on the receiving end with such… brightness. With feelings that didn’t feel deserved but he appreciated nonetheless. Ryuunosuke hated how Atsushi’s words would sound like poison at times. How that tongue could cut through anything with little thought until after the words had been spoken.

Just like bullets on skin. Just like scars on skin except these hurt more. They healed just fine as well.

Like mentor, like protege, he supposed.

God he hated linking the weretiger to Dazai-san.

They truly were nothing alike but his brain couldn’t relay that message to his consciousness.

“I promise I won’t do stupid shit to get myself hurt at your expense.” Ryuunoske coughed out as he realized that this was the second promise he made to this brat.

He hated that too.

“Good.” Atsushi simply responded as he laid his head back against the couch, perhaps waiting for Ryuunoske to leave. He didn’t though, instead he looked at the younger and the conflict of emotions on his face despite his eyes being closed.

He really wore his heart on his sleeve.

Ryuunosuke stared at the scar on his neck. An imperfection on his smooth pale skin. He hated that he was the cause of it. He hated the way it got on there. He knew Atsushi was thinking the same thing as he let out a soft hum before speaking.

“You’re staring at it again,” Atsushi stated simply.

“And you’re thinking of our encounter with him.” Ryuunosuke countered as Atsushi froze a bit. Atsushi opened his eyes with a sigh as he stared at the ceiling before looking at Ryuunosuke.

“Because I couldn’t save you,” Atsushi mumbled softly as he looked at the ravenette, small tears pickling in the corners of his eyes. “And for the life of me, I still can’t figure it out.”

“Figure out what?” Ryuunosuke asked his thin eyebrow carefully raised.

“Why you did it,” Atsushi whispered as he sat up and looked at the other. “Why did you save me…? Why did you allow me to escape without you?” Atsushi asked as his lip slightly twitched in nervousness. Scared of the response he would get.

“I-“ Ryuunoske started before Atsushi interrupted, blurting out in embarrassment.

“I understand if you did it because of Dazai-san’s approval but.. I-… well… I would have assumed you still would have tried to save yourself instead… Even if it hurts I understand if you-“ Atsushi blabbered on as he squeezed his own hands to keep them from fidgeting.

Another thing Ryuunosuke hated. He hated how Atsushi was so quick to doubt and so quick to come up with excuses to combat reality.

“Shut up for a second, Jinko.” Ryuunosuke interrupted and he harshly took Atsushi’s hands in his own in response which shut the younger one up immediately.

It was an odd feeling.

Atsushi’s hands were warm in Ryuunosuke’s cold ones. It felt odd for both of them. For Atsushi it felt almost like touching a corpse… and in some strange lapse of judgment… he found it comforting.

As for Ryuunosuke. It felt wrong to touch Atsushi. This wasn’t even in an intimate manner or even friendly but it felt weird, almost as if Atsushi’s skin burned him. In more ways than one.

“I didn’t save you because of Dazai-san,” Ryuunosuke said as he squeezed Atsushi’s hands. However, the younger one raised his eyebrow in confusion.

“I thought..”

“You thought wrong,” Ryuunosuke interrupted gruffly as he let out a sigh. “At first… I did so because of Dazai-san but now… it feels.. wrong to imagine you in my position. It makes my skin crawl to think of any sort of scar from that idiot. To see you be in harm's way.”

Atsushi simply stared at Ryuunosuke with a confused case as he opened his mouth to let out a sharp retort before he closed his mouth.

“What exactly are you saying?” Atsushi asked after a while before Ryuunosuke rolled his eyes in a frustrated manner, abandoning holding Atsushi’s hands to give Atsushi’s tie a slight tug causing the other to yelp softly in surprise.

“I was wrong, there is less than a cobweb and a marble in that brain of yours,” Ryuunosuke mumbled as he pulled Atsushi slightly closer to him, a firm grip on his tie. Atsushi narrowed his eyes on Ryuunosuke as he scoffed slightly.

“Then explain it to me since I’m too dense to understand.” The weretiger said in an exasperated sigh before Ryuunosuke rolled his eyes.

“I saved you because I… care about you, brat.” The ravenette hissed out as he took in the shocked look on the weretiger’s face. His ombre eyes widened in a comical fashion.

“I…”

“And I couldn’t allow Fukuchi to snuff out your life in such an unfavorable manner and should anyone else try to break you down or hurt you in such an unfavorable way I won’t allow it.” Ryuunosuke blurted out as he tightened his grip on Atsushi’s tie, pulling him closer so their noses slightly brushed against each other, taking note of Atsushi’s flushed cheeks. “Not because it’s because of what Dazai-san dictates or wants… but because I need you here still.”

Atsushi stayed silent as he let out a soft chuckle, his eyes slightly flickering in a bit of amusement before a careful eyebrow was raised.

“I take it that means you aren’t going to fight me in six months’ time?” Atsushi had the balls to tease before Ryuunoske scoffed in an annoyed manner before carefully crashing their lips together causing the younger by surprise.

Atsushi didn’t even think or care to pull away. Instead moving to wrap his arms around Akutagawa’s shoulders to keep himself steady as their lips pressed together. It was odd, despite his weird feelings toward the mafioso, that Atsushi felt comforted by the fact that his first kiss was shared with Akutagawa, of all people. The only thing swelling in his chest was an embarrassing amount of butterflies that he wanted to suppress but instead made his cheeks grow warmer as he kissed Ryuunosuke. His eyes slightly drifted closed as he felt a careful hand cup his cheek and slightly stroke it in response.

As for Ryuunosuke, this also felt a bit odd. This was his enemy. So why on earth was he holding him in such an intimate position and keeping their lips pressed together? And why on earth was Atsushi just… letting it happen? Ryuunosuke let out a slight huff in response against Atsushi’s lips before he slightly pulled away.

“Of course, I’m going to fight you in six months. Don’t be an idiot.” Ryuunosuke replied in an annoyed manner as Atsushi let out a flustered chuckle before cocking his head to the side.

“Does that mean I can report you for abuse?” Atsushi replied snippily as Ryuunosuke rolled his eyes again and crashed their lips together in a much harsher manner as he pushed the weretiger against the couch with a huff.

“God I hate you so much, weretiger,” Ryuunosuke mumbled against Atsushi’s lips as the other let out a muffled laugh against his lips.

“I can tell.” The brat teased back, slightly gripping the back of his coat. Ryuunosuke slightly pulled back and saw the expression on Atsushi’s face, his slightly dazed smile as he looked up at the mafioso with an expression that should never be directed at someone like him.

Ryuunosuke let out a sigh as he placed a soft kiss on the side of Atsushi’s mouth, causing the other to let out another chuckle of surprise. “I can never rationalize when it comes to you.” He mumbled against Atsushi’s soft skin. It felt almost like lace, soft and gentle.

“Is that a bad thing?” Atsushi asked softly as his eyes peered up into Ryuunosuke’s darker eyes that softened as he placed a kiss on Atsushi’s jaw before placing one on his neck.

“Yes,” Ryuunosuke said in an annoyed manner. “I hate that you’re taking over my life like this. I loathe your entire existence.”

Atsushi let out another hum as he let his eyes slightly flutter closed, his white eyelashes slightly getting caught together. Ryuunosuke let out another sigh.

“It’s not fair.”

“What’s not?”

“You.” Ryuunosuke admitted as Atsushi’s eyes opened again, his eyes growing concerned as Ryuunosuke brushed back his uneven and dumb bangs. The weretiger’s eyebrow slightly raised in confusion as Ryuunosuke shook his head, carefully tucking the longer bang behind his ear. It was too large of a chunk though, so a lot of the silvery strands still fell out of place.

“How am I not fair?” Atsushi asked growing a bit defensive before he sucked in a breath. “If you go on about Dazai-san I will kick you out-”

“It’s not just about him.” Ryuunosuke rolled his eyes as he looked into Atsushi’s softening eyes. “I hate how jealous I am of you and your relationship with him yes but… I hate that I’m jealous of the little things that you do. I hate how I try to scrutinize you with my eyes but instead, they just end up… finding things that I… tolerate about you.”

“What do you tolerate about me?” Atsushi asked with a curious gaze as he gently pushed a bit of Ryuunosuke’s hair out of his face.

“Your sharp and foulmouthed tongue still allows you to bring people up rather than cut them down. Your confidence when you forget about your past and upbringing. The way that you’re still determined to help and save people… no matter who it is. Your soft, lacelike skin that doesn’t feel like a corpse nor is stained with blood…. Everything.” Ryuunosuke breathed out as he looked down at Atsushi’s flushed cheeks, his eyes growing wide again as he let out a soft breath.

“I…”

“I hate how you poison me. Your actions feel like poison because they seem to… genuine to be real.” Ryuunosuke sighed as he rested his forehead against Atsushi’s, closing his eyes as he spoke.

“And I hate that scar on your neck,” Ryuunosuke concluded.

“Akutagawa, that’s rude, you’re the one who put it there,” Atsushi said with a growl as he looked away,

“I hate it because I put it there. I hate it because you weren’t able to heal it and I for the life of me cannot figure out why.” Ryuunosuke sighed as he opened his eyes again, slightly pulling back from the younger, watching the conflict behind Atsushi’s eyes.

“Neither can I.” Atsushi breathed out as he looked at Akutagawa.

“I don’t hate it because it’s an imperfection. I hate it because it doesn’t deserve to be on your skin… It doesn’t disrupt your lacy skin… but I despise how it got there.”

“I can say the same for yours,” Atsushi said softly as he brushed gentle fingers against the long and clean scar on Ryuunosuke’s throat. In a moment of hesitance, he carefully leaned up from the couch and placed a soft kiss on the scar causing Ryuunosuke to jolt in surprise.

“Sorry,” Atsushi said as he pulled back before Ryuunosuke shook his head.

“No, It’s fine… you caught me off guard.”

“A first?” Atsushi teased with a grin as Ryuunosuke rolled his eyes once more.

“Hush, brat.”

Atsushi let out another laugh as he slightly leaned his head back against the couch. Ryuunoskue watched the younger, wanting to find something he hated or found unappealing about the weretiger at that moment. Instead, he found nothing. He was staring at the boy as he felt his cheeks grow a bit warm and his eyes slightly softening. God, he was divine. God forbid he admitted it out loud though. The weretiger would never let him live those words down.

He just had… so much life to him. In every subtle movement. The twitch of his mouth as his rosy lips spread into a smile. His eyes crinkled in delight as they seemed to shine so brightly, even without his beastly ability. The way his hair bounced despite his poorly cut bangs, the white shade of his hair looked brighter and reminded him of a cloud. His nose slightly scrunched up whenever he was displeased with something or simply whenever his face scrunched up reminded him of a cat. Atsushi just was completely full of life. It was odd for Ryuunosuke to know and to see. Everybody he knew always had something devoid of life that would stop them from appearing like this.

Sure, Chuuya-san’s blue eyes crinkled in delight at times and he had a confident smirk that displayed on his face whenever he was pleased with the work Akutagawa did but… there was always that sense of underlying sorrow. The sorrow of his loss in the Port Mafia with the death of his many friends and the betrayal. Gin’s smile was pretty and often as carefree as it could be but was often hidden as a result of her position in the port mafia. There was also a hesitance to it. Tachihara-kun’s eyes held a sort of mystery before they were taken, but they never conveyed his true emotions… usually at least. Not to even discuss the lack of humanity and false warmth in Dazai-san’s eyes whenever he was facing him which simply got replaced whenever he looked at the uptight blonde or Atsushi himself.

They were all different though. None of them compared to Atsushi, especially considering the fact that the boy was so full of energy despite all that he had gone through. Obviously, there were times when it faltered and his pleasant expressions were replaced with anger, annoyance, sadness, or guilt but… it just made him feel more real the way that he wore all his emotions to the fullest.

“Akutagawa.” Atsushi interrupted as Ryuunosuke snapped out of his thought process to look down at the weretiger.

“What?”

“You’re staring,” Atsushi said simply as he carefully propped himself up on his elbows, a lopsided grin forming on his face. “And as much as I’d like to continue kissing you… Kyouka-chan will be home any minute and I think it’ll be better if she doesn’t catch us like this.”

Ryuunosuke sighed as he obliged, carefully pushing himself off of Atsushi as they both rose from the couch, Atsushi walked the older to the door as the ravenette stepped out of the dormitory to look at Atsushi.

“Hey, Akutagawa?” Atsushi asked as the latter hummed in response. “What are we?”

“The same as what we’ve always been,” Ryuunosuke stated with an eye-roll as Atsushi crossed his arms with a raised eyebrow.

“I don’t think enemies make out with each other on the said enemy couch.” The weretiger stated bluntly as he narrowed his eyes at the other. Ryuunosuke sighed in response before responding.

“I guess you have a point.”

“Then…?”

“Consider us the opposite of enemies if it pleases you,” Ryuunosuke stated with a cough as he turned to leave. Stopping when Atsushi grabbed his coat lapel and crashed their lips together. Ryuunosuke was slightly caught off guard but he carefully kissed Atsushi back, allowing his eyes to flutter closed for a second before pulling away.

“So does that mean we’re the best of friends?” Atsushi teased as Ryuunosuke rolled his eyes.

“I think I prefer enemies if you’re going to state it in that grotesque manner,” Ryuunosuke responded snippily with a slight purse of his lips causing Atsushi to let out another laugh.

“Glad to hear so, I guess,” Atsushi said with a lopsided grin as Ryuunosuke allowed a small and faint smile to play on his lips.

What was Nakajima to him?

A foe? A trial? A begrudging partner? His replacement? A sin?

A divine? (Perhaps not that one.)

A brat? (Perhaps that one.)

He wasn’t completely sure. However, Ryuunosuke could say that it was simply complicated.

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