#flangst

im sure this has been done before, but i've been thinking abt a soulmate au where it isn't guaranteed to be a romantic bond.

the soulmate bond is just about compatibility.

i love thinking abt a hopeless romantic who waited their WHOLE life for their soulmate - saving their first kiss, first date, first time, etc.

then when they finally meet their soulmate, it breaks their heart that their soulmate isn't interested in them (YET.)

Flufftober 2024 Day: 31 Found Family

Flufftober 2024: Prompt List by @thepenultimateword

Would not feel right not to end flufftober with some flangs. By ending it with some Kim looking back on the found family they left behind🥺

… … … … …

And how does it feel when someone lets you down

You've got a head full of thorns

When you should really be wearing a crown

But at least a crowded room will never seem empty

Dazai: Hmmm... let's see... 1) die, 2) have crabs at my grave 3) commit shinju with a pretty lady- Chuuya: Who am I to you then? Dazai: I am not committing suicide with you. Chuuya: Why? Dazai, with a serious face: I don't want you to die. Chuuya, blushing: Well-uh... I- Dazai: You need to deliver crab to my grave every day- Chuuya: *punches Dazai in the face*

~

Bonus:

The wind blew gently, Chuuya's hair fluttering along with it. On the little hill was a graveyard. That suited his partner. Maybe as a ghost, he would annoy his neighbouring dead bodies, and that would pass the time for him. But in some way, Dazai's grave seemed to be separated from the other ones. The name on his stone was clean. Never lined with moss.

"At least you completed your resolutions for this year..." Chuuys nodded at the grave in front of him, pouring a rather expensive bottle of sake onto the soil over his partner's probably decaying body. Hopefully, that alcoholic wouldn't suffer too much from alcohol withdrawal.

Chuuya opened a can of tinned crab, the brand Dazai always ate without cooking. Chuuya placed the can in front of the gravestone without any sort of utensils. That mackerel can eat like a savage for all he cares.

"Well...uh... dig in!" A pair of lips touched the headstone and parted. Red hair danced in the wind. "Bye."

The trashcan near the graveyard was full of empty cans, Chuuya batted an eye at them and smiled.

Chuuya managed to stick to his resolutions too: to feed Dazai crab at his grave.

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 鬼滅の刃 | Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (Anime), 鬼滅の刃 | Demon Slayer: Kimetsu no Yaiba (Manga) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Akaza | Hakuji/Rengoku Kyoujurou Characters: Rengoku Kyoujurou, Akaza | Hakuji (Kimetsu no Yaiba) Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Sharing a Bed, Pining, akaza is painfully in love with kyojuro and has no fucking idea because he's an idiot, Stitches, Bathing/Washing, Caretaking, Akaza | Hakuji is Bad at Feelings (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Soft Akaza | Hakuji (Kimetsu no Yaiba), Rengoku Kyoujurou Lives, Blood and Injury, Blood Drinking, akaza is sooo so normal about drinking kyojuro's blood, Sleep Deprivation, Memory Loss, hakuji brain turns partway back on and makes it everyone else's problem, Skinship, Touch-Starved, akaza domestication arc Summary:

“The sun is coming up,” he says, quite stupidly. Nothing in Kyojuro’s countenance changes, but the fire that makes up the soul of him towers impossibly high for fractions of a second. Normally, Akaza might be enchanted by it, but right now it just annoys him. Everything annoys him, currently.

So, here it is! I think the ending is poop but I finished it. Sorry it took so long :(

@skitchskatchbat , I promise this is the last of it

P1 / P2 / P3 / P4 / P5 / P6 / P7-End / / A03

Chapter Seven

Steve really hoped his parents stayed gone for a good while yet. He wasn’t sure how things had worked out so well to stay with Uncle Wayne (and Eddie!), but he wouldn't risk it ending by questioning it too far.

He’d never had such…unconditional care that he could remember. Maybe Mama had done so, when he was too little but it’d long since faded into the structured affection his father demanded.

“I love yous” and un-prompted hugs never happened, couch cuddles were a thing of fantasy and he’d never be able to clamber on his father’s back like he could with Eddie.

It was rare to get a kind word from his father, it was usually preceded by some significant effort on Steve’s part. Sitting utterly still during a stilted and stuffy dinner, or reciting some dull fact about a business partner when thrust into the spotlight. Nothing because Steve was his son or he was legitmitely proud of the boy.

Life here was so different than before. The only rules were for safety and he got sandwich shapes, and no one ever brushed him aside for something “more important.” Sure, He had his room, but no one ever scolded him or made him stay in there alone if he wanted to be with them instead. 

He got to learn so much, too! Steve vaguely knew he should already be in school, unsure why he didn't attend. It certainly wasn't like his parents were trying to increase his education independently. If he asked questions about how things worked, his father would scoff and tell him he wasn’t paid to teach children and to figure it out. His mother sometimes answered, at least the initial query, but if he continued to ask or try to dive deeper, she would get frustrated or annoyed and shut it down.

Eddie had told him all about ants, which was really cool. He still wasnt sure why boy ants had to be workers and not kings, but Erica explained that it was because girls are naturally better leaders, and only people messed it up.

He didn’t think that was completely true, even if none of the others had said otherwise. It might be, though, since he saw how everyone tended to listen to follow Joyce or Nancy’s lead in things, albeit after much grumbling and detracting.

All that to say, he loved his new life and hoped it would last as long as possible. It was the happiest he’d ever been and after about two months, stopped expecting it to be taken away. 

So of course, that’s when everything changed.

No one could definitively say why that day was the one that made the difference; it was altogether unassuming and didn't differ from any other. El had come over again for one of their Saturday Sessions.

Steve and she had cuddled up on the couch, watching Gummi Bears, and Steve was exclaiming about how he’d love to be able to bounce around like that in real life. He’d asked El if she could give him “bouncy powers” 

They’d done this before, in the early days of his “childhood” She would sit with him and concentrate on trying to undo the transformation, with a noticeable lack of success. To keep him from getting upset, it had been explained as El attempting to give him a superpower.

The fact that it hadn't worked just yet was simply a matter of not finding the right power, Steve was convinced that being bouncy would be it; he could be a knight like Cubbi and help fight bad guys.

Not seeing any reason to deny the boy, despite having resigned herself, and the others, to a child Steve, they settled into the familiar position.

Sitting cross-legged, facing each other on the couch, El leaning forward to rest her forehead on Steve’s. They linked hands and closed their eyes, 

She concentrated and pictured Steve as Steve, the way he had been in memories. They’d not interacted much one-on-one, but she’d had more than enough details relayed to her from Dustin and Robin to imagine.

They’d sat like this for around fifteen minutes, and she could feel Steve begin to get fidgety. He’d never had an extended level of patience now and they were halfway into the Smurfs episode. Smiling, she leaned back and opened her eyes only to exclaim in shock. “OH MY GOD!”

Her yell brought Eddie from his room and caused Wayne to look up from his newspaper at the kitchen table, and add their own yells to the mix.

Steve was still sitting in the same position , but his eyes were wide open, startled, and in a much older face.

His whole body was older as well, reverted back to his age. Thankfully he had worn one of Eddie's oversized band shirts for pajamas that night, as his clothes had not shifted alongside the rest of him. Eddie had a brief hysterical thought about how they began and ended this with Steve being pantless before focusing back on the situation at hand.

It seemed Steve had also cottoned on to the pant situation as with a yelp, he grabbed a couch pillow and held it to his lap. Frantically looking around the room, he asked “What the hell is going on?”

Laughing wildly in relief, El had thrown herself at him in a hug, deftly avoiding his flailing arms as he tried to keep the pillow, and his modesty in place. “You are back! I am telling Max!”

“Back?!” She ignored his question and made a beeline to the phone, leaving his bewildered gaze to fall onto Eddie for an explanation.

“Well, uh you see…you weren't exactly gone, but you also weren't here, you know?” Eddie began, unsure how to properly begin.

Steve rolled his eyes, “No, no I do not know Eddie, that's why I’m asking! And where are my pants?”

The kids and the rest of the group would be there soon, the veritable stampede only held back by the various social obligations (and mothers) they’d already had. Steve hid in his–the spare room, too embarrassed to consider facing the wait in the livingroom with Eddie and his uncle.

He’d been given a pair of sweatpants from Eddie's closet and a brief rundown of his life in the past weeks. He couldn't believe he’d acted like such a…child. 

That’s what he literally been, but he couldnt allow that explanation. God, Eddie must be completely sick of him now. Steve had used the man as a horse! He had cried about sandwiches!

And his uncle, this was not how he wanted to make an impression on the man. Steve wished a gate would open and drag him back to the Upside Down.

His shame spiral was interrupted by a soft knock at the door, “Steve? How about you come out here and join us in the kitchen?” Wayne’s voice filtered through and was the only one Steve wouldnt have ignored entirely.

Shuffling slowly, guilty like a kicked puppy, Steve came out and followed Wayne back into the kitchen.

Eddie was already seated, a cup of cocoa in front of him. An empty seat was to his left, and Wayne placed another mug in front of it and gestured for Steve to sit.

He did so reluctantly, unable to look either man in the face, unwilling to see how they thought about him now.

The silence lasted until Steve felt a nudge of something against his arm. Looking over, he saw a coloring book, closed with a box of crayons sitting on top of it.

Gazing up, he saw Wayne giving him a comforting smile. ‘Figured you might want to finish off the pictures in there; my collection isn't quite complete yet.”

“I’m not a baby,” Steve muttered, not realizing how closely he’d mimicked his younger self.

Eddie jostled his shoulder, careful not to spill the cocoa. “Nah, not a baby, but if you do not finish them, I’m going to, and I’ve never been able to stay inside the lines.”

He reached over and slid the book to his side of the table, only to be stopped by a firm hand on top.

“You have to stay inside the lines; it ruins the picture otherwise! I’ll do it, but only because they have to match the others.” Steve opened the book and flipped to a half-completed picture. Sure enough, the colors had been painstakingly kept within the image's borders, and if it crept out slightly, no one would say anything.

They all needed to talk; that was obvious, and the inevitable chaos that would occur as soon as everyone else showed up was looming. He would need to untangle this mess of emotions and try to figure out what they would do from here.

But, for this moment, it was peaceful. Sitting with family, creating a memory in wax and paper. No expectations, only comfort, For this moment, life was good.

The door was closed. The window opened.

P1 / P2 / P3 / P4 / P5 / P6 / P7-End / / A03