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miseries-mistress · 1 year

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SOLICITUDE | LEGOLAS GREENLEAF

Synopsis: solicitude /səˈlisəˌto͞od/: care or concern for someone or something.

The fellowship had set camp for the night in a clearing in the forest. They had set a fire and took refuge around it to stray off the coldness the night always seemed to bring. However, when you elicit to sit by a tree, a decision made out of insecurity, you find yourself not alone for too long as a certain elf notices your disappearance,

Warnings: female reader, insecurity, some self-depreciation, fluff. W/C: 3153

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"Do you not wish to join the others?" a soft-spoken voice breaks you out of your stupor. You jump, startled by Legolas's sudden appearance, and he cocks his head to the side at your fright. He must have thought I heard him, you muse silently.

You flash the elf a smile before returning to inspecting your blade slung casually over your thigh. The others, the fellowship, had gathered around the fire, telling stories of better times and victorious battles alike, their eyes gleaming with a joy that would soon diminish on your coming journey to Mordor.

It was rather embarrassing to admit why you had secluded yourself to a tree away from your newfound companions. There had been a lack of room around the glowing embers, everyone else already fitting comfortably in their spot, laughing as the halflings cracked jokes, and well…you didn't want to intrude. It was evident that your presence was not warranted or needed, so instead of bothering them, you had taken refuge under the shade of the tree, and while the bark dug uncomfortably into your spine, it helped you ignore your strange longing to be apart of the group of men who had obviously grown accustomed to each other in your short time together. However, Legolas seemed to be the only one to notice your absence, hence his imposing figure standing above you with innocent curiosity adorning his profile.

You admired Legolas far more than was permitted for a human such as yourself. His serene nature was a long-forgotten melody, gracing your ears with the enriched words that flowed effortlessly from his dainty lips. His personality, sharp wit, and impeccable features were a delight to be savored and worshiped, as his majesticness was truly a sight to behold.

It was painful to get around him when your feelings grew with every passing day, but the journey you had voluntarily embarked on was one without an end in sight. The ground you covered in a day trek was not nearly enough to get you to that wretched place in any small amount of time.

But that endeavor of putting distance between Legolas and you was for not as he waited patiently for an answer to his question that took root in the back of your mind, the sweetness of his voice a delicacy to be enjoyed for centuries.

You try with all your might to maintain truth in your smile, but he sees through your thinly veiled lies, and his lips curve into a frown at your saddened gaze.

"I fair fine here, Legolas. You should return to the others," you offer, dropping your gaze from the intensity of his. From the moment those words parted from your lips, Legolas seems to read your expressions, your feelings like a child's book in Elvish. Your inability to lie to him was humiliating, and you were mortified that you could not lace your words with enough sincerity to prove convincing to not trouble others with your burden because the last thing you wish for is for Legolas to pity you. That would twist your guilt further into something much darker, you surmise as your finger glides across the metal of your sword.

You can feel his gaze bearing down on you as if he is considering an idea before his feet shift and some hopeful part of you wishes he would not abandon you; he would see through your struggle and wordlessly share his company with you. It takes a moment before you realize that he has, in fact, taken a seat next to you, and the air seems charged with energy and anticipation of what is to come.

"Why do you detest me so?" The words leave him quickly as if he did not intend to speak them. In your surprise, you raise your head, only for your breath to stutter at his closeness. There's no more than a couple of inches separating you two. It's exhilarating but yet so daunting. "Please tell me what I have done to not earn your eye."

You blink at him, astonished. Even though words cannot convey the severity of your feelings, any other speech fails your tongue.

Your irises which once held a far told sadness, fall away from his, and Legolas concludes that your lack of acknowledgment simply won't do. Gentle fingers lift your chain so you can gaze upon him once more. The connection is not rough or demanding but hopeful- pleading. Your heart scatters at the contact, beating erratically at the softness of his skin, being like the drip of silk, too impossible to feel so beautiful at the touch.

You turn his question over and over through the gorges of your thoughts, the answer as clear as day, but a vulnerable emotion holds you back.

Fear.

It's easily recognizable and brings a dim chill over the cloudless sky of your admiration for the elvish male.

"I do not detest you." Your words are simple, keeping your feelings at bay behind the motor and stone of your mind.

"Then why do you avoid me?"

"I do not."

"I didn't take you for a liar."

Shame befalls your features, and Legolas's hand retracts from your face.

"If you will not share with me that, then tell me why you retreat from the others."

Your eyes search the ground in determination for a good lie. However, Legolas reads your face with ease, practically predicting your formation of a lie, and his gaze falters at your unwillingness to share the truth with him.

More so, worry sets in his stomach. What had he done for you to despise him? He didn't think that your past conversations served with colorful banter were filled with ill intent on his behalf but had you taken something he had joked about to heart? Was that the reason he could not earn your gaze? Legolas was conflicted, toeing the lines of a worry that bordered something more than friendliness or natural curiosity with his willingness to right any wrongs he may have imposed upon you.

"I would most certainly like the truth if you would grant it to me," he tries.

Once more, you rip your gaze away, and embarrassment overturns your expression. You resign to following the thick roots that snake across the forest floor while you try to gather your thoughts, quite an impossible task with an elf of his caliber next to you.

"It's rather foolish, I'm afraid. You would think me to be silly." Your defeated sigh does not go unheard, for Legolas's ears pick up every hint of dejection and the undercurrent of embarrassment lingering in the phrase cast into the open air.

"I could never think of you in such a way," he affirms hesitantly, almost as if he had deliberated the action for quite some time. Then, finally, he places a tense hand on yours.

Your breath stutters at the contact, and his muscles seem to pull even tauter at the breathless hitch. You silently chastise yourself for such an unbecoming reaction. He was only trying to comfort you as a friend would, yet you twisted his intentions into something entirely impure. It's shameful that you would even entertain the idea that he would want something more than mere friendship. He's never shown any inkling of that line of thought, and yet you let your fantasies run wild like some little girl.

You turn your mind back to his statement, tossing it around, weighing the pros and cons while Legolas watches with interest, his careful eyes never straying from your hunched skeleton.

"My presence was not needed, so I decided to resign myself to my solitude," you spoke plainly, your woes weighing down your spirits. Legolas stills.

"It's silly, I know-"

"Why would you believe such a thing?" he asks suddenly, and your body betrays you as your eyes snap up to meet his worried ones. It takes a moment for his question to register, and before you know it, the words hastily tumble from your lips.

"I was obviously not needed, and I did not want to be a bother and intrude..."

"So you thought you were unwanted?"

You frown, shame burning your cheeks all the way to the tips of your ears. With your blade now forgotten on the forest floor, you curl within yourself, desperate to hide from your own insecurity and Legolas's gaze. What would he think of you now, knowing how easily you succumb to your insecurity? How weak and pitiful must you look, curling within yourself like a frightened animal?

You hear faint shuffling before his body is pressed against yours so intently that you can feel the heat radiating off of him.

"Look at me," his voice is a gentle command, yet firm in its intention, but you don't have the heart to meet his eye and face his disappointment. "Your insecurity is misplaced."

At this, you cannot help but search for his features for falsities or ways of deceit wormed into the etches of his skin only to find none, just kind eyes glittering with empathy. Legolas's expression seemed to brighten at your acknowledgment, and he continued. "You have no reason to believe that we lament your person accompanying us. You are part of this company, the same as Aragorn or me, and you have proven your worth and reliability many times over. You could never be a burden or an annoyance."

"How do you know that?" your question strays on the path of bitterness, and you are tempted to turn your head away but not before gentle fingers grip your chin, forcing you to remain in contact.

"I have come to know you and the company. They would have expressed their dissatisfaction by now," he replies simply, the warm brown of his eyes blazing with the truth he believes so heartily.

"How do you know for certain they do not talk behind my back when you or I cannot hear?"

"I would hear them."

"Legolas," you gently scold. The twitch of his lips indicates his amusement before his face morphs to one of gentle compassion.

"Heed my words, you are by no means a burden, meleth nin."

Legolas holds for a moment, his eyes aglow in surprise at his own words.

The crease between your eyebrows furthers as you study his uneasy expression. You can't hold back your curiosity as the question slips between your parted lips. "What does that mean?"

"It matters not, only that you are not plagued by what appears to trouble you."

Way to turn the conversation around, you think bitterly, your head falling ahead to the fire by which the others ignore the two of you.

"Confide in me if that would ease your burden. Seeing you so troubled over matters I do not know of worries me greatly," Legolas fairly pleads, his voice not rising above the faint chatter of noise and voices of the forest.

"It is nothing in which you can aid me, Legolas," you reassure him, but by his dissatisfied expression, he does not fall prey to the illusion you have spoken of. His hand falls to your thigh, and in an instant, it feels as though all oxygen is violently sucked from the air, leaving you unable to swallow the growing lump in your throat. Every nerve comes alive at his touch as if your soul is burning with the same adrenaline you are feeding off of.

"Please."

Oh, valor almighty, you didn't know how you possessed the strength to stray from this elf as long as you have; to resist his presence that intoxicated you because now, at the slightest taste of it, you were addicted, like a practiced addict.

Still, he begged so sweetly. An elvish prince asking for you to share your woes unknowing that he was the cause of them. Every second thought, every hesitation was a result of the influence he held so fiercely over your heart.

It's as if the Maker was pulling every winding tension tighter, making the oxygen that has now returned to your lungs come in short pants and allowing your mind to spiral as each moment passed in minutes instead of seconds. Eternity felt closer than the second this instant would end.

A shadow casts over his pale features, making his already unreadable countenance impossible to decipher. His dark pupils seemed to have swallowed the riches of his irises, drawing them into a sea of darkness. The source of this darkness, the specification of what kind of darkness that seemed to linger in his hardened sight, was unidentifiable in the light given to you. His hair, braided in the ways of his kin, framed the strong muscles of his face as his jaw clenched, and you could find the peaks of his ears behind the waterfalls of blonde spilling over his shoulder.

Irresistible.

You met in the middle.

There was no tender or ounce of patience to be found in the dance of his lips but the hungry desire of a starved being engulfing you. From what you could decipher over your pounding heart, his lips were slightly chapped and thin as your mouths tangled and tangoed, learning that language of lovers as they explored every unknown crevice of one another. It was all so much, yet not enough.

You craved to feel more of him, of his body's sinful softness or his hand's possessiveness, which had begun to move up and down your thigh tentatively as if he was unsure what was allowed.

Among the silver of devotion coming from tentativeness, there was passion, built up and overflowing, and you couldn't tell what was up and down from the way his mouth claimed yours.

Your mind moved too fast to comprehend the full scale of his actions. The elf you had secretly pined for was kissing you as if Middle Earth was going to end with you under a tree with your friends mere yards from you. But for the moment, you let yourself succumb to your passion and indulge in a moment of weakness before this moment inevitably ends.

And it did as all things do.

You both pull back, gasping for breath while short pants leave those kiss-bitten lips of his.

"Forgive me if I have overstepped–" Legolas unceremoniously trips over his words as they rapidly slip out of his mouth fervently. You shake your head and press your forehead against his, sharing a breath.

"No, there is no reason to forgive you." Legolas's hands meet your face in a touch so light you were unsure if it was there. He waits for a moment for you to raise your objection or pull away, but when you remain firm, his deft fingers become more confident as they trail the contour of your face. You sink into the feeling, pushing out all else for a second of forever; of all that could be.

"I didn't know you felt the same," he chuckles elatedly, and you press your lips together to contain what might be a wide grin of pure elation.

"I did not know either," you both share a peal of laughter before a moment of quiet passes over you, the tone shifting into something more doleful.

"I still know not of that which troubles you." He brushes the hair from your face before tucking it behind your ear, his hand blazingly ghosting over the shell of it.

"I was afraid. Afraid that you would never harbor the feelings I do for you." The audible slip of breath makes your chest clench in anticipation. "I distanced myself from you to protect my heart from heartache."

"Did it work?"

"It did nothing but make me long for you even more than I already had." His hands smoothed down your dirt-ridden skin. There was no need to address what would happen now after you revealed feelings towards one another and you found no reason to. For spoiling this moment you have dreamed of would be a great sorrow, but Legolas seems to feel otherwise.

"What will happen to us now?" he asks, fingers passing over your lips before cradling your face.

"I do not know," you murmur, tracing the lines of his skin with the gift of light bestowed upon you and him. His hands slip from your face, and your head moves back, startled by the sudden loss of touch. However, he did not stand or even attempt to put space between you two, but his fingers began to undo his braid behind his right ear, his dominant side, with the ease and precision only an elf could possess until all that remained were strands of crimped hair and a delicate silk tie that mirrored the color of his hair in his hands. He gazed down upon the band as stillness filled with buzzing energy grew as the seconds he spent focused on the tie.

You knew little of the elvish culture, but from what you did know, braids were quite crucial to them, and who did them appeared to change the meaning behind said braids. So why had Legolas taken his? Did he intend for you to braid his...?

Oh.

Legolas outstretches his hand, his palm facing upwards in an offering to you. Inside his palm sat a hairband of string. In what you could only describe as astonishment, you looked up to find him proposing to you a smile as sincere as the admiration brimming in the palace of his eyes.

You pulled away from his face, back to his hand where the hair tie stood waiting for you. No doubt stood in your mind, nothing besides your undying and unyielding feelings that filled your body with giddiness of the likes of which you've never known. You trusted Legolas, not with just your life but now with the very essence of your soul and the light in it.

You took the hair tie.

Your fingers began weaving through his silky hair, as soft as you imagined, sewing a new braid into his locks of gold with diligence and patience. You threaded a new promise through his soft strands, one that could not be conveyed by tongue but by emotion.

It was as if the light herself guided your fingertips, showing you the path in which your hearts were now embedded to, destined to be intertwined for all of eternity.

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milksnake-tea · 2 months

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━━ morning in clear skies .

As a traveling merchant, Luocha is constantly on the move, rarely able to settle down in a place he can call home. But with you, he finds temporary relief.

luocha x gn!reader

contains: fluff !!!! lots of phys touch and kissing bc thats my thing, just waking up w my baby, if you squint u'll see a hint of angst

word count: 1.1k

a/n: cant believe this is my first oneshot/longer drabble for my man ANYWAYS THIS IS MY very very late BIRTHDAY FIC FOR MYSELF BECAUSE LORD I MIGHT BE TOUCH STARVED AND I LOVE LUOCHA ANDIUDFJNFION this is just me being down bad for 1k+ words my bad

Long and slender fingers trace the very edges of your face, their repetitive yet ginger motions pulling you from your sleep, lifting you from the dark sea of slumber in their embrace. You stir, squeezing your eyes tighter for just a moment as you slowly come to.

Your eyelids are heavy; it’s difficult to open them, and truthfully, you don’t want to. It’s comfortable here: the linen sheets lay loosely across your body, light enough so they aren’t suffocating, yet they trap heat as well as wool. The pillow that lays under your head sinks under your weight like a cloud.

But perhaps, what tempts you most is the man that lays at your side. Even without your sight, you can picture him so clearly. His breathing is soft, relaxed. Blonde hair tickles at your face as he shifts, and you imagine it splaying over his body like a waterfall of gold. His fingers, finally gloveless for once, leave the edges of your face and instead move to cup your cheek.

His thumb comes to rub under your cheek, his touch almost ticklish. A fond chuckle escapes him as you squirm, the sound like sweet honey to your ears, a baritone melody.

“Good morning to you too,” he muses as you finally peek your eyes open. Sunlight cascades over Luocha from the window besides your bed, bathing him in an almost divine glow. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was an angel sent down by the Beauty themself.

Gone is the heavy coat he usually wears, along with the rest of his daily attire. Instead, Luocha’s form is covered only by a thin, long-sleeved shirt that just barely hugs at him. His eyes gleam like the finest of emeralds, warm and tender with affection as he gazes at you.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks. You nod drowsily, not yet ready to leave the comfort of your pillows. Luocha’s eyes crinkle knowingly - he knows all too well the pain of having to leave the bed.

He sits up, long hair falling as he does, but it's not long before he swoops down in a long, languid motion and captures your lips in a sweet kiss. He lingers there as if to savor it - the feeling of you against him - then pulls away, a satisfied smirk on his lips.

"You taste as wonderful as ever." You roll your eyes at his statement and he snickers. "I only speak the truth, love. You don't take me for a liar, do you?"

You shake your head, an amused smile creeping onto your face.

"Of course not."

You reach up towards him, pulling your arm from the blankets to caress Luocha's face. Your lover's eyes soften fondly, and he takes your hand in his own, nuzzling your palm, never breaking eye contact with you.

"Are you leaving?" you couldn't help but ask. Luocha sighed, his smile faltering.

Due to Luocha's career, he rarely stayed home - and when he did, it was never for long. He was like the Nameless of the Astral Express - always traveling, always searching, always wandering. Even at his "home" with you, his stay was temporary. Sooner or later, he'd pick up that blasted coffin of his again and set off into the cosmos, leaving you with nothing but calls and text messages for weeks on end.

"Now, don't give me that face," he says gently, thumbing at your eyes. "You'll get wrinkles."

He touches his forehead to yours, that emerald gaze enrapturing you, enchanting you, and you couldn't help but get lost in its forests.

"I'm not leaving," he assures you. "Not yet."

"How long?" you say. Luocha's eye twinkles.

"A month."

Luocha suppresses a laugh as he watches you slowly process his words. He doesn't have to wait long, for the drowsiness soon leaves your eyes and you visibly brighten, and Luocha swears he's never seen a better sight in the universe.

"You mean it?" you ask. There's excitement evident in your voice, yet also hesitance, as if this is all too good to be true. Luocha doesn't blame you; rarely does he get a weekend to spend with you, much less a month. After all, his clients are far less understanding than you are.

"Why wouldn't I- whoa!" Luocha barely manages to get the words out before you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him into you and the mattress. Laughter fills the room as the two of you tumble.

Somehow, one way or another, you ended up on top of him. Your legs straddled his waist, and your arms caged him between them. Luocha had always been a beautiful man, but by the Aeons, he'd never looked so tempting. His hair splayed out from under him like a halo, his face a tinge flushed and his shirt slightly lifted to reveal his stomach.

"Careful there," he says breathlessly, amusement and absolute adoration evident. "It would be a shame if you-"

He's swiftly cut off by your kiss, a startled yet pleased yelp escaping him. You decide to take advantage of his brief moment of vulnerability by sliding your tongue into his mouth. Luocha hums against you, closing his eyes and allowing you to do what you wanted with him.

Gradually, he lets himself sink into the mattress, obliging as you tilt his head up to deepen the kiss. While you have your way with him, his hands began to wander, reaching to hold your back and caress what skin he could find. His fingers are cold to the touch as they slide beneath your shirt, and you shiver at the feeling.

When you finally part from him, it's with great reluctance. A single string of saliva briefly connects the two of you before Luocha swipes out his tongue, breaking it as he licks his lips teasingly. You let out a exasperated yet fond sigh, dropping down on top of him so that you can nuzzle into the crook of his neck.

"Satisfied?" Luocha teases, letting out a small oomph! as you playfully hit his chest.

"Hardly," you scoff. You move so that you can look up at him from his shoulder. "There's a lot of lost time we need to make up for."

"I'm aware," he hums. "But there's no rush. We do have a month, after all."

"I suppose." You trail a hand over his chest, feeling as it swells and falls with every breath Luocha takes. Finally, it sinks in that he's here, he's still here and he will be here for an entire month.

You smile to yourself, your heart warming.

"I missed you."

Luocha closes his eyes, his grip on you tightening.

"I missed you too."

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

#honkai star rail #honkai star rail x reader #hsr #hsr x reader #luocha #luocha hsr #luocha x reader #hsr luocha #hsr luocha x reader #x reader #reader insert #y/n #reader #writing #oneshot #archives 🏵️

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camille-lachenille · 3 months

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A flickering flame

She looks at the babe in her arms, blissfully asleep and unaware of the world he just entered. This little boy who shouldn’t be, her miracle and her curse.

Drained, she leans back against the pillows as the midwife cleans the room. It’s a sad place, to bring a child to life in, this rickety little cabin in the woods. And yet, it is the only way to keep her secret, to keep her son safe.

“Do you have a name for him?” the midwife asks quietly. It is not the first time she asks, and not the first time silence is her only answer.

No, she doesn’t have a name for her son, because she did not mean to have a son. Because, by any mean, he should not even exist.

Yet, exist he does, and his warm weight against her breast chases some of the pain and melancholy away. She presses a light kiss to his soft dark hair. His eyes are blue, for now, and she wonders if they will change to her own brown or stay as blue as his sire’s. She considered calling him his father, even if just in her heart, but the wound is still too fresh and the word stings at this gaping absence. He left her, alone with this tiny, flickering life; he does not desserves any other title than sire of her son. And yet…

And yet this is not her son, she muses, not entirely, for the life in him is brighter and stronger than it ought to be. This babe a mere hours old already has a keen gaze, his large eyes reflecting the light. She wonders if they will reflect the stars, if she brings him outside.

She does not have foresight, for this is a gift of the Eldar, but she knows her time with her son is limited. That she has to secret him away and rip yet another piece of her heart if she wants him to live. He does not belong to the green forests of Ladros and the villages scattered there. He is not destined to the simple life of the men of this land.

With a heavy sigh, she carefully lays her son next to her on the bed and asks the midwife for the paper and ink she packed with her own supplies. The letter is short and to the point, just cryptic enough that anyone unaware of her identity can’t understand the message. There is precious little wax in the cabin, but she sacrifices a bit of her candle to seal the letter before handing it to the midwife.

“Give this to the closest courrier you can find,” she says, an order despite her tired voice. The midwife nods and tucks the letter in her bag. She won’t speak, she knows.

***

The answer comes swifter than she expected, in the form of a tall, cloaked figure entering the cabin at night. She almost screams in fear, reaching for the knife on the bedside, before recognising the face half hidden by the hood. The bright eyes shine in the dim light of the lone candle.

“You called for me?” the figure asks, his voice melodious and fair. If she did not know the identity of her visitor, she could have mistaken his voice for another, beloved one, just for the faintest moment. But he is not him. She will never see him again and she thinks ‘good riddance’ even as her heart bleeds.

Mutely, she signals to the visitor to sit on the side of the bed, and places her son in his arms. “Take him to safety, my Lord,” she says. “Tell whatever lies you want about his origins but keep him safe with his kin.”

“But you are his kin, my friend,” he replies calmly, even as he rocks the babe in his arms. And what a picture it would be, to see this great Lord playing nursemaid, if the situation wasn’t so painful.

She shakes her head. “He may share my blood but not my soul; I can see it in his eyes. He belongs with you. Please, take him and tell no one the truth!” and she hates how her voice shakes, how she is reduced to beg to have her son taken away from her. But she cannot keep him, she knew that from the very moment she felt this little life growing within her.

Her visitor sighs softly in defeat, and even this sound is music. “Very well, my nephew has a young daughter and his wife is still nursing. They will be happy to call him their son.” And his words sound like a promise.

A knot loosens in her chest at the knowledge her son will be well cared for. “Thank you, my friend,” she whispers quietly. “But go now, before dawn comes. There is a basket with supplies for the babe on the table.”

The visitor raises, towering over the bed she has spent the last few weeks in, close to her son, and secures the still sleeping babe in a sling against his heart with the uttermost care. Yes, her son will be safe in these hands.

He is about to leave, basket in hand, when he pauses by the door and turns to look at her. “You never told me his name.” His voice is serious and his gaze piercing.

She looks back at him, calm and sure of herself for the first time since he entered the cabin. “Artanáro,” she says with a tight little thing of a smile. “For his life is bright as a flame.”

Her friend smiles faintly as he looks back and forth between her and the babe. “Artanáro. Yes, it suits him.”

#tolkien #the silmarillion #athrabeth finrod ah andreth #gil galad #gil galad son of plothole #finrod #andreth saelind #implied aegnor x andreth #silm fic #tolkien fic #my writing

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theyhavetakenovermylife · 5 months

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Jungle Fantasies (18+)

2007!Leonardo x reader

Takes place before Leo becomes the Ghost of the Jungle, and before he decides to stay in South America. Leo has been in the jungle for a few weeks and just can’t stop thinking about you.

Warnings: Masturbation, descriptions of sex, gradually getting more and more desperate in nature, spelling.

------------------------------

Leonardo walked alone through the heart of the South American jungle, surrounded by the symphony of chirping insects and rustling leaves. The humid air clung to him like a second skin as he moved through the forest, the rhythmic swish of his katana cutting through the stillness of the night and the plants in his way, as he made his way to his hideout.

The jungles of South America offered a stark contrast to the urban landscape of New York City, where you, his constant muse, navigated the bustling streets. As Leonardo honed his skills under the dense canopy that made up forest above his head, he couldn't escape the persistent thoughts of you that tugged at the corners of his mind. It had only been a few weeks and he already missed you as if it had been years.

In the daytime, as the sun filtered through the lush foliage, Leonardo's training sessions were filled with the echoing memories of your laughter and the gentle brush of your fingers against his skin. The longing for the simple joys of holding you close and feeling the warmth of your embrace lingered in his every movement. It was usually with his longing he would write his letters to you. Telling you how much he was thinking about you, and how he was already dreaming of the day he would be home with you again.

But nighttime brought with it a different kind of struggle. Alone in the vast wilderness, Leonardo's thoughts took a more suggestive turn. The distant sounds of nocturnal creatures became a backdrop to his fantasies, where the intimacy he craved with you played out in his mind. And as he let those fantasies play out in his mind, he felt the growing need and longing for you. Not just in his heart and soul, but in his loins. A need that had been growing ever since he first arrived in South America, causing conflict in his mind. It was a battle between his commitment to training and the yearning for the physical connection he had left behind. It was in these moments he thought of abandoning his training, just so he could spend one more night in your bed, feeling you hug every inch of him. But Leo stayed in the jungle, determined to become the leader his brothers needed.

To cope with the loneliness and in an attempt to suppress his needs, Leonardo began to document his thoughts and feelings in a worn journal. Each page was a canvas for his emotions, a testament to the dichotomy of his desires. He sketched images of the jungle at the corners of his letters, just so he could somehow share the jungle and its wildlife with you. You in turn would do the same in your letters to him, adding small sketches of your life. But none of it stopped Leo’s longing to be with you again. It only made it stronger.

One day, as he sat on a moss-covered rock beneath a waterfall, Leonardo traced the flow of the waterfall at the bottom of his newest letter to you. The cascading water mirrored the rush of emotions within him, the sound a soothing melody that seemed to carry the whispers of your name through the dense foliage.

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, Leonardo retreated to the cave he had been calling home for the last few weeks. The makeshift shelter, hidden among the roots of ancient trees, became a sanctuary where his thoughts and emotions unraveled in the quiet solitude.

Inside the cave, the air was cool and damp, and the distant sounds of the jungle served as a gentle lullaby. Lying on a bed of moss, Leonardo stared up at the patch of sky visible through the entrance. The twinkling stars seemed to reflect the countless thoughts that danced in his mind, each one a testament to his longing for you.

As fatigue settled into his muscles, Leonardo closed his eyes, attempting to surrender to the embrace of sleep. However, the tranquility of the jungle only heightened his awareness of the emptiness beside him. His thoughts circled back to the intimate moments he had left behind - the shared laughter, the stolen glances, and the simple joy of having you by his side.

In the darkness of the cave, Leonardo's mind painted vivid scenes of cuddling with you. He could almost feel the softness of your presence, your warmth seeping into every crevice of his being. The imaginary touch of your fingers tracing patterns on his shell brought a comforting ache to his heart.

A sigh escaped Leonardo's lips as he yearned for the weight of your head on his plastron, the closeness that transcended the physical and delved into the realm of emotional intimacy. His mind danced on the edge of fantasy, exploring the idea of shared warmth beneath the celestial canvas of a starlit night. The gentle rise and fall of your breath and the soothing cadence of your heartbeat. Leonardo's mind drifted to the gentle caress of your fingers along the edges of his shell, a sensation that lingered in his muscle memory. As he lay on the mossy surface, thoughts of cuddling with you took on a more nuanced flavor. Leonardo envisioned the curve of your body fitting seamlessly against his, the space between you shrinking until it was nonexistent.

As Leo’s thoughts played out, he felt the need in his cloaca grow even further. Frustrated, he ran his hands over his face before casting a glance down to his crutch. Pulsating, aching to drop. How Leo wished you were there with him. Outside of his mating season, he was not used to this aching feeling. Hell, he had not had a painful mating season ever since he started dating you…

Leo closed his eyes, once again imagining you were cuddled close against his side, already naked from activities he only wished the two of you had been up to. He imagined the need in your eyes, as he pictured your hand sliding down his plastron instead of his own. As his hand got closer to his cloaca he felt himself drop, just like he had promised himself he would only drop for you.

In his mind it was your hand that held on to his erection as your lips met his. He felt the pre cum on his head, using it lather up his hand, before ever so slowly moving his hand up and down his rod. He could see and hear you in front of him, whispering and telling him how much you had missed him, all while your hand started working faster on him. He imagined that his own hand, the one that had been wrapped around you holding you to his side, made its way down your back, grabbing your ass before sliding even further, until he found your wet entrance. Your moans were clear in his mind as he played with your soaked slit, before pushing a finger into you.

You moaned out, your face falling to his shoulder and your breast pressed against his plastron. Fuck how he missed that feeling. The thought only made his hand work faster on his member. He bit his lip, holding back a moan, dreaming of your lips making their way down his front, all while he still had his finger pumping into your pussy. He could still remember the sound from last time he did so to you.

Leo buckled his hip at the thought of his member in your mouth. “Fuck…”, he breathed out, wishing he could hold onto your head so he could thrust into your mouth. If you were there with him, he would have taken you over and over again, every single day.

Leonardo turned over in the moss bed, closing his eyes, imagining you were laying beneath him, begging for him to bury his cock deep inside of you. Normally he would tease you with it, rubbing his head against your clit, even eat you out til you were almost screaming for him to fuck you. But there, alone in the cave, Leo was the one that was about to scream for you. Frantically he grinded his hips against his makeshift bed, chasing the release he had been suppressing for so long.

The moss felt nothing like you, but at that moment Leo did not care. He just wanted to cum with the picture of you in his mind, sprawled out underneath him, needing him just as much as he needed you.

Normally Leo would be whispering all sorts of dirty things to you, like how good you were taking him or what a good girl you were for him. But that was not what Leo did in that cave. He was a moaning, whimpering mess, calling out your name over and over again as he chased his high.

Leo’s head fell to where he imagined your neck would be, lightly biting onto your skin to muffle his moans. But instead of the skin of your neck, it was the skin of his upper arm.

As Leo felt his high coming closer, he imagined you holding on to his shoulders, crying out as you were about to cum. Leo felt his head spin as he was about to cum, dreaming of your high pitch moans in his ear.

Leo came unto his moss bed moaning out your name, imagining you tighten around him as you came yourself. Your expression of pleasure as clear in his head as it was the night he gave you a proper goodbye.

With shaking breath Leo turned onto his back, staring up at the cave ceiling. His member softened ever so slowly as he tried calming his breath. Leo closed his eyes once more. Normally this would be the time for aftercare. Either you and Leo would take a shower together, or you would cuddle close until you fell asleep. But in the cold damp cave none of those things felt right without you. Without your soft warm body next to him, calming down from the pleasure he had just given you.

Leo tugged himself away, getting up to do a quick cleaning of his moss bed, before getting ready to sleep for the night. As sleep claimed him, he couldn’t stop himself from dreaming about you one last time. He pictured you next to him, already asleep, hair a mess, your cheeks pink and your face at peace. The image of you nestled in the crook of his arm became the anchor that tethered him to the promise of a future where the distance would be nothing more than a fleeting memory. The day he had finished his training and would come home to you again.

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seelestia · 1 year

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— 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄?

SUMMARY. zhongli never lies; he always says the truth as it is, even if it is a hard pill to swallow. or in which you realize you are not his greatest love and that is alright... right? (3.3k+ words)

CHARACTERS. zhongli.

GENRE. major angst, hurt with little to no comfort (sort of?).

CW. insecurities to a partner's past love and gradual acceptance (?), zhongli's past love is implied to be guizhong and uses she/her pronouns, use of pet names, possible sappiness. + read the alt text on zhongli's header for an extra summary!

THOUGHTS. i haven't written angst in a vv long time, so my sincerest apologies if i've become rusty! but i tried my best and writing zhongli always gets me sniffling <//3

EXTRA THOUGHTS. a gift for @medeaheartly! so, do you remember the "special privilege" request you sent me in this ask?? hehe, tadaaaa. happy birthday, jae! <3

✰ main masterlist. // series masterlist.

THE VERY FIRST TIME you asked him that question was on a day like every other. In fact, there was barely anything special about that day that could've brought rise to such a forward question. Liyue was as calm as the ocean breezes from the direction of Guyun Stone Forest, the same as ever. You were sitting across from the man of your dreams with delicacies laid out on the table at Third-Round Knockout, the same as ever.

But it was no compulsion, no forcefulness either, just a need to reaffirm. For it still felt like a dream that you were here right now, sitting across from him.

"ZHONGLI, do you love me?" You asked.

He was a man of respectable virtue, a man whose knowledge knew no bounds, a man of perfectly sculpted features that you had to rub your eyes in a daze when you met him for the first time. Nothing could begin to describe how honored you felt to have him call you his lover and him yours after all those years of admiring him from afar.

Even now, it still felt surreal. So, so surreal that he chose you, just like how you'd choose him over any other on this land — but, you needed a confirmation, a reassurance that this was all true. And so, that was why you just had to ask.

But love might've been too strong a word for a mutual connection that had only sparked so recently. Maybe he, too, thought the same because Zhongli turned to look at you with an expression that spoke of surprise. For a moment, you felt conscious underneath his questioning gaze.

Goodness, why did you say that? Why did you act so impulsive? It was as if your mouth had a mind of its own and for a moment, you wanted to bury your face in your hands and never look up.

Perhaps, you should just take back that question—

"Let me put my thoughts into words," he hummed in response, the slight shock on his face subtly dissolving into gentleness. By doing so, your thoughts were grounded to a halt as he rested a hand on top of yours. Its warmth was familiar and you had to stop a bashful smile from blooming like a flower on your lips.

Zhongli was actually humoring you and your silly question, you realized.

"Well... oftentimes, I find myself staring at Silk Flowers, knowing that they remind me of your soft gaze and that I'd want to give them to you as a gift. Although, at times, that plan is unable to come to fruition if I forgot to bring a pouch of Mora with me," he mused, eyes closed.

You stifle a mirthful laugh with your hand at the last part, even more when you noticed that he was stating it matter-of-factly rather than saying it as a joke.

"And when I sit down to watch Ms. Yun's performance, there are times where a voice in my mind echoes to me, 'they would've loved this' as I listen. Slowly but surely, you begin to occupy my mind so naturally, as natural as the cycle of the sun and the moon," he added.

You were hanging onto his every word, his melodious voice, his beautiful amber irises, his everything. You knew why; because he was never the type to sweeten his words with sugar or honey, never with the intention to entice you into falling harder for him with speech. No, rather, it was because Zhongli was always honest. As if his words were gospel to your ears; anything he said, he meant it and this time was no exception.

If there was ever a moment that you wished you could capture and replay over and over again like a broken record, it would have surely been this one. It was only when his previously serious tone morphed into a fit of chuckles was how you realized you were spacing out. His eyes crinkled even more beautifully than the crescent in the night sky as he said, "Well, is that enough or shall I tell you more?"

"N-no, that's enough," you tried to hide your face behind your unoccupied hand, albeit horribly failing because Zhongli only seemed to laugh harder. His voice echoed like music in your ears and Archons, you just fell more and more for him.

He said it himself; that he was yours, yours, yours, finally yours.

(But at the time, you were yet to be made aware of the stories from the past.)

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

THE SECOND TIME you asked him that question was when you discovered that Zhongli, once, had a lover. At first, it wasn't surprising to you because almost everyone had a love that either wasn't meant to be or lost itself to time. In his case, it was the latter, or so you heard from the whispers of passersby.

"There is a tavern that puts a vase of Glaze Lilies on their tables when they open at nighttime and when the gentleman from Wangsheng Funeral Parlor visits, he stares at the flowers longingly while he sits. I think the flowers remind him of someone."

"Maybe it's Mx. [Y/N] he is thinking about?"

But you knew better, Zhongli said it to you himself; Silk Flowers were what reminded him of you, not Glaze Lilies. A trivial detail to some, but it meant a lot to you. You weren't mad nor angry but instead, you felt rather curious.

You never heard any of the stories from Zhongli himself, although you supposed you already knew why. It was either he never brought it up to shelter your feelings, or maybe even his own. They said curiosity was what killed the cat, but you still held on to this curiosity, whether that be for better or for worse.

When you finally came to the decision that you'd gather the courage to ask him about her someday, it was a time when the both of you were resting from the mundane routines of the day. Your head was on his lap and his fingers were tangled in your hair, courtesy of being gently pulled onto his lap after you complained about a headache quietly.

The desire to ask Zhongli about his previous lover was constantly knocking in the back of your mind, the words of it lost somewhere on your tongue. Was this a good decision? Why did you become so inquisitive as of late? But you finally managed to gulp down the boulder of hesitation caught in your throat.

"...What kind of person was she? The one before me?"

Your tone was doubtful, your question was vague — but still, his fingers that were just carding through your hair stopped. Halted in its tracks so abruptly that you felt an instant rush of worry coursing through you, you sat up from your position with a concerned frown.

"'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have—"

"No," the man shook his head, his voice meeker than the usual certainty that you had grown used to. Your heart sank, had you crossed the line? As if your thoughts were written across your forehead, Zhongli placed his hands on your shoulders and laid you back onto his lap. "It's alright," he smiled.

You wondered if that smile was just a front to comfort you, but his gentle gesture was too hard to resist and you found staring up at his face with your head on his thigh. His gaze didn't meet yours, however; he wasn't trying to avoid you but rather, he was looking into the distance.

Looking at something, looking at a memory.

"She was wonderful," he uttered, a delayed answer to the question you asked him. The image of a fond smile had seemed to sew itself tight on his lips, you couldn't help but gape in awe at his beauty. Oblivious to your adoring gaze, he continued his story, "We used to chatter into the night, she more than I, about the present and future of Liyue with cups of Osmanthus Wine in our hands."

His fingers made themselves at home in between your locks again, smoothing out and counting the strands idly. You managed to note a familiar detail in his words as you hummed, "Osmanthus Wine? Like the one you brought home for us the other day?"

"Yes, dear, like the one I brought home for us that day," Zhongli chuckled at the sudden way your sharp memory decided to make itself apparent. "I used to drink the wine with her and my old friends," he added. Zhongli always had a fondness for that drink and only now, had he told you why.

But it invoked an unnamed feeling inside your chest, knowing that mellow yet sweet drink you once shared with your lover was actually a token from the past he used to share with another. ...Was this jealousy? No, you shouldn't. You felt guilty, terrible for feeling this way when he was speaking of nostalgic memories so beautifully.

"You must've loved her greatly," you tried to muster a smile, one that looked sweet from the outside but came from a bitter place deep down. "Yes, I did," Zhongli smiled too and the genuineness in that smile only hurt you even more.

Will he ever speak of you that way too? Will you be able to replicate the happiness that came with his previous lover and his old friends?

"Do you—" Before you knew it, you had already begun to ask yet another question that seemed to bubble up without a second thought. Your lips were dry as you carried on your sentence, "Do you love me too?"

As much as her? More than her? Less than her? Words unspoken.

All you knew was that you craved an answer from him. You didn't want reassurance, you just wanted the truth. But was it hypocrisy if you said that deep down, you were expecting yourself to be more special in his eyes? No, expecting wasn't the right word, it was hoping.

"Yes, I loved her and I love you," Zhongli smiled again, wistful. His voice was loving and his answer was said so clearly — but somehow, it only left you feeling even emptier than before.

You didn't know why, but something was just missing. Unsettled, an uneasy feeling that'd make your stomach churn like realizing that you left the door open or forgot something important at the tip of your tongue.

(Or maybe, you really were a hypocrite, after all.)

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

For the past two times, you realized that you had been asking Zhongli the same question, merely presented in different shades. First, it was: "Do you love me?" An innocence that was meant to be a confirmation that your dream to be his finally came true. Second, it was: "Do you love me too?" A question that derived from the insecurity of knowing that he once had a lover who clearly outshone you in every way.

It was only during THE THIRD TIME you asked him that question were you finally able to pinpoint that hidden void in your chest from last time — and it just so happened that this revelation descended as the two of you stood in front of an unnamed grave.

But the bouquet of Glaze Lilies in Zhongli's hands was already telling of whom the place of resting belonged to. The sheer longing in his gaze was a telling indication too, as painful as it was for you to admit.

For these past few days, Zhongli was kind enough to tell you stories about his former lover; of her bright mind, of her delightful demeanor, of her connection to a field of Glaze Lilies in his mind, of her memorable presence in his life. Even in this moment, he invited you to come alongside him to visit her grave, an intimate and precious place that he never disclosed to anyone before. But you knew that he made sure that your comfort was his priority, never speaking or telling too much unless you specifically asked.

"It's growing dark," the sigh that came with his words drifted away to become one with the wind. You assumed if it weren't for the time, the both of you could've lingered for a little bit longer here. Zhongli kneeled on one knee to place the bouquet on top of the grave, you watched silently as a sign of respect. There were a few moments of nostalgic silence as he stood up. He rested his hands on the back of his waist, a little habit of his, and he tore his gaze away from the grave to you.

"I must thank you for accompanying me here today," Zhongli regarded you with a sweet smile but somehow, this smile was much more feeble than usual.

"Before, I was only able to cherish memories of her alone by myself," he stated as he stared into the darkening skies above that was beginning to make way for the moon to shine. But he wanted to look at you in the eyes as he spoke, so the male pivoted aside to face you properly. "You've given me the opportunity to speak of her legacy. I know that this topic might not be the easiest for you to hear, so I just want to thank you. For understanding and for listening." The smile on his face as he spoke was growing wider this time, more earnest.

Words failed you, all you could manage was to return his smile with your own. Zhongli was kind, too kind, really... which only made the guilt upon your shoulders grow heavier, for you had one last question to ask of him.

"Let's go home, dear," he held out a hand towards you, fully expecting you to grab onto it so the two of you can make your journey back to Liyue Harbor — and you did, you grabbed onto his hand but you didn't move from your position.

Your feet were firmly planted on the ground at the very same spot. Your chest felt heavier than any metal bladesmiths could ever hope to get their hands on, but you told yourself multiple things: one, that this question will be the last one and two, that his answer will not change anything between you.

You just needed to know, was all.

"Zhongli," you croaked out his name. His amber eyes crinkled at the corners with concern as he replied, "Yes?" Archons, you couldn't bear the reality that you were the one causing him to feel that way, but you managed to force the words out of your mouth before you put this off any longer.

"...Do you love her most?"

Zhongli froze, just like the very first time you mentioned her name to him that day. His mouth opened then closed again, thinking of the right words to respond. What was happening?

He was always known for his ability to be straightforward and honest. Yes, that was what he'd normally do, but that was one of the concepts about love. Love makes you do strange things, love makes you stray from your usual self before it has yet to course through your veins, love is strange — and for the first time in forever, Zhongli hesitated.

You searched for his eyes for an answer and you couldn't help, but wonder: why was he hesitating now? "Tell me the truth, tell it as it is like how you always do. But if you don't wish to answer, I understand," you squeezed his head reassuringly.

You weren't forceful, you gave him a chance to refuse, but that look in your eyes; just how much you needed to know, just how much you needed an answer. Was this the matter that bothered you all this time? Finally, he was able to figure out why such a forlornly aura had begun following you ever since the day you asked him about her.

He'll do it, he'll give you an answer. Zhongli is never one to lie and this time, he wouldn't either. He repeated your question to himself in his mind: Does he love her the most? And the answer that trickled out of his mouth in a quiet whisper was... "Yes," he said.

Your eyes widened. Not in disappointment, not in expectation, but in disbelief upon finally receiving the answer to the fog that had engulfed you for so long.

"I would cross the ocean for her, I would sacrifice my last breath for her, I would wait a lifetime of solitude for her. Even until now, that has not changed," he murmured.

"I see," you smiled ruefully, but it didn't reach your ears. You weren't able to meet her, but just through witnessing the utter loyalty the man you loved had for her, she must've been as wonderful as he described her to be. Of course, she was his greatest love and that's alright. He had all the rights to love someone that wasn't you, that's alright too. At least, the truth was finally revealed, right? That was all you wanted, right?

Right, [Y/N]?

"Please do not cry."

Zhongli spoke after what felt like an eternity of silence where you were left consumed by your own thoughts. You didn't even notice the tears that were rolling down your cheeks until he pointed it out — the warmth of Zhongli's fingers as he tried to wipe away at the pearly liquids on your face was careful, but that gesture only seemed to bring forward more of them.

He averted his gaze, "It was not my intention to make you cry..." Here came that unfamiliar hesitation again, rendering his tongue into a jumbled mess. But Zhongli decided to push through, there was something he wanted you to know; "I've never lied to you," he said, his voice and gaze were firm.

"When I told you that looking at Silk Flowers reminds me of your gaze and I want to give them to you. When I told you that I loved her and I love you. When I said that I love her the most."

By now, your tears had stopped and the only traces left of them were the drying streaks on your face. The times where you had asked him all those questions came rushing back in an instant as he listed them amidst his musing.

"Those things, they are not lies," Zhongli encased your trembling hand with both of his own, causing your blurry eyes to look at him. "I love you. This is not a lie either," he pressed a kiss to the back of your hand.

You were silent and he could feel the worry swirling inside his chest. It was only several seconds after that your mouth began to move, yet he couldn't make out what you had said. With a frown, the tall brown-haired male leaned closer and only then did he hear the words falling from your lips: "I never doubted that at all," you whispered in between sniffles.

"That wasn't a lie either, in case you're wondering," you chipped in. He chuckled, mused that you used his words against him so quickly, endeared by your very existence before him. But most importantly, his voice was rid of the sadness that he had upon seeing your tear-stricken face prior.

"Let's go home, my love," Zhongli said those words softly, as soft as the way he tucked back a stray strand of your hair that fell from its original position.

You nodded.

It was during that fateful dusk where you learnt that you were not his greatest love and that's alright. It'll take time to fully register itself in your heart and that's alright too.

(After all, he said that he loves you — and Zhongli is anything but a liar. Everything is alright, right?)

─ ⊹ ⊱ ・・・・・・☆・・・・・・・⊰ ⊹ ─

✰ TAGLIST: @meimeimeirin @tsuk4sa-yug1 @catcze @semi-orangeapple @yuuki4646 @d-a-r-k-s-w-a-n @daisydkj @omgscaramouche @coquettemaiden @herdrops @lleoll — [ bolded names are unable to be tagged + register here to be a part of my taglist! ]

#genshin x reader #genshin x you #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin angst #zhongli angst #genshin scenarios #genshin fanfic #genshin imagines #seelestial.inks #dylm.series 🍵

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chimielie · 6 months

Text

wonderland

summary: didn’t they tell us ‘don’t rush into things?’ didn’t you flash your green eyes at me? haven’t you heard what becomes of curious minds? (or: what happens after graduation to a pair of teenagers in love)

word count: 1k

cw: irresponsible decision making (but i assure you there will be no consequences), The Teenage Need To Get The Fuck Out Of Your Hometown, mountains of fluff, my usual Thing iykyk, excessive 1989-related puns

hajime’s never considered himself an impulsive person.

sure, he’s: headstrong, audacious, hotheaded. but he almost always has oikawa spearheading his more reckless decisions with wild emotional situations, a shield that makes him look like a calm, responsible adult. oikawa could make almost anyone look sane.

hajime is pretty sure even oikawa would call him crazy right now, if oikawa weren’t in argentina. maybe, for all his turbulent nature, his friend really is some grounding force; since he’s been gone, hajime’s felt on the precipice of something… big. earth-shattering.

“i just can’t stand it,” you say, head lolled back onto his shoulder, spine curving into his chest. hajime is trying valiantly to ignore the soft weight of your ass on his lap, even though you’re mostly sitting between his applesauce-crossed legs. he can feel it, though, against his right thigh. he is failing miserably. “it feels like everyone’s moving and i’m… stuck.”

“stuck,” he echoes, and you roll your head so you’re looking right, out of his bedroom window at the familiar landscape of miyagi. the sun is close to setting, having burned through the daytime clouds and casting a brilliant glow over you. your lips look darker and fuller and more kissable in this light, he’d thought earlier, right before he’d kissed them bruised.

“more like a balloon,” you muse. “on a still day. just drifting up, and up, and up, and the birds are just flying by.”

he hums, deep in his chest, in agreement. something’s felt wrong ever since graduation. you and he had stayed, and it had been what you both wanted at first.

but not like this.

miyagi without oikawa, without makki, who was rooming with mattsun in the city while the latter earned his junior degree and the former chased youtube fame, wasn’t what he’d thought it would be at all.

“it’s gonna be all ours,” you’d promised him, graduation cap tilted jauntily and smile brighter than the pure white clouds drifting above. “you’re all i need, hajime.”

but miyagi without the people you’d grown up with was empty, a melody that only echoed memories. it was you and him—and the ghosts of your childhoods.

“you’re not happy here,” he says. not a question.

you twist to look at him, eyes open wide. “i’m happy with you. i didn’t mean—”

“i know,” he says, kissing your pursed, worried mouth. “but we’re not happy here. i feel it too. maybe i’m crazy, but i think we need—”

“change!” you’re sitting straighter in his lap now. “every day is the same. i’m starting to feel like i need to do something insane. i need enrichment in my enclosure.”

he puts his arms around you and you draw yourself tighter into him until you’re cheek to cheek.

“do you trust me?” he says. you snort.

“what is this, haji, aladdin?”

“yes,” he says, rolling his eyes. in this light, they’re a forest, green and deep and irresistibly inviting to you. “do you trust me, princess?”

you nod, and he feels it against him, your skin rasping together. “of course. take me to wonderland.”

“that’s corny, too,” hajime grumbles. “don’t criticize my romantic gestures then reference the wrong movie.”

“whatever,” you brush him off. “how much do we need to pack?”

that’s how the sun sets on your last night in miyagi.

hayakawa tomoka’s job at the ticket counter is so boring. she sits there all night—during the day, she studies fine art—, a magazine propped up in front of her, arching high brows at anyone who hadn’t had the forethought to buy tickets online.

she does so now at the young couple skidding to a stop in front of her, suitcases bulging even if there’s only one each, panting for breath and knocking shoulders as though even their bodies are on a gravitational course to each other. they can’t be more than twenty.

“when’s your next flight to california?” one asks, his straight hair sticking up like a hedgehog.

“…where in california?” hayakawa asks, pointing her mouth at them. “it’s a big state.”

“anywhere,” the other says. “we’ll find our way to where we need to be.”

hayakawa blinks slowly at them. these new romantics are too exhausting to deal with at this hour. she types, click-click-click, wrinkling her forehead at the blue glow of her computer.

you stare anxiously at her as she does, desperately hoping for anything in the next day.

hajime tugs you into him as you wait, and you relax, turning a closed-eye smile up at him while he looks down on you with a mirrored expression.

“too impulsive for you yet?” he says, mouth twisting wryly. you shake your head.

“there’s one to santa ana,” hayakawa says. “the south. in five hours.”

“perfect,” you say eagerly.

“thank you,” hajime says.

there are two seats free next to each other, serendipitously. ticket prices are exorbitant, but not bank-breaking—both of you had worked all of high school at the café next door, earning good tips and waiting for something worth spending it on.

“okay,” hayakawa says finally. “your flight’s set, mr. and mrs. iwaizumi. safe travels.”

“thank you,” you say effusively, “so much.”

“you too,” says hajime, and then turns very red.

hayakawa watches you go, a rare and soft smile gracing her features as your suitcases crash into each other even as both of you refuse to let go of the other’s hand to control their direction. the night shift is boring. something like this shakes things up.

after a race—more like a marathon—through customs, hajime finds himself shifting in a plastic seat, peering through the blackness of the night for a glimpse of airplanes landing. falling stars, sort of, magic to be wished on. you breathe evenly, deeply asleep with your head on his shoulder, his denim jacket wrapped around you, leaving him with just his hoodie and the new band of cheap jewelry around his fourth finger.

his mother would flip if she knew how rushed his wedding was. next time, he promises himself, he’ll do it again with you if you’ll keep having him and the ceremony will be beyond your wildest dreams.

it’s colder than he thought it would be in the airport. the earth is moving under his feet.

you’re all he needs; he’s gonna give you the world.

#tbh i usually write hajime w brown eyes even though theyre green in the show im pretty sure. but it had to be done 😏#haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #hq!! x reader #iwaizumi my beloved my husband loml etc etc #iwaizumi x reader fluff #iwaizumi hajime x reader fluff #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu x reader fluff #haikyuu!! fluff #hq!! fluff #hq fluff #what if… i made this a snippet series. like their life as they figure it out as a couple married way too young navigating a new world #step one of the journey to irvine

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jungkwok · 4 months

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desperation | jeon jungkook oneshot

◤────────────•~❉᯽❉~•────────────◥

pairing: jungkook x reader tags: smut, porn without plot, husband!jungkook word count: 463 words

◣────────────•~❉᯽❉~•────────────◢

Hours upon hours of scrolling had tired me out. Whether it was the aimless musings of influencers, or slow motion shots of satisfying phenomena- nothing seemed to entertain me, and I found myself looking for my next microdose of dopamine with my left hand, instead of my right.

The bed laid cold, empty and silent- leaving no sign of the night of warmth and passion it had once endured a few nights ago. And yet that night, him– seemed a million years away.

I was hungry, and the only person that could satiate my appetite was not here. I whimpered, as if calling my mate, asking, begging– for him to hear my cries and come running to me, ready to begin the ritual once again. Some invisible thread was tugged, and my hand slid, then snuggled gently on my mossy opening. A cub, waiting for its mother’s milk.

Waiting, to be fed.

And so I obliged. Plunging my fingers into my richness, I clenched– wanting them to be completely soaked, desperate for some loose imitation of just how wet his cock was.

‘Jungkook,’ I moaned, this time shamelessly, into the abyss. ‘Egh, my Jungkook~’, my calls perfectly accompanying the soft thrusts of flesh against flesh and the golden squirts of my champagne confetti.

Perhaps I was a self-sabotaging siren, too hypnotised by my own song to notice the gentle, then firm steps towards our room. The door creaks open, and it is only when I hear a sigh– of disappointment? Of admiration? That I finally opened my eyes.

‘My love,’ he began, a natural melody in his voice. He seemed calm, and yet a paradox was emerging before my eyes– for his quickening breath and raised crotch suggested otherwise. I removed my hand, for there was another guest that now needs a warm welcome.

‘Please’, I whispered– my voice holds the same melody as his, yet laced with unbridled desire.

He stirred, and for a moment time stopped just for us– Jungkook and his mate, bound by soul, and about to be bound by flesh once again.

And then he was onto me– wearing nothing but the glint in his eyes and the tug on his smile. Slowly, he pressed his hardness against mine, gently rubbing and coating himself with my juices.

I could bear it no longer. With a quick thrust of my hips, he was within. Nothing laid naked in the heavy air, for even our bushes were intertwined. A soft, rich moan escaped him, and I suddenly sought for him to be even closer. Our moss warmly rubbed against each other with tender love.

We cum, in perfect harmony– and our juices watered each others’ forests, that even the forest nymphs would weep at the sight of such a monsoon.

#bts #smut without plot #jjk x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #bts drabble #bts jungkook #jungkook #jack harlow

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hisui-dreamer · 9 months

Text

minds alike

Pairing: Jade Leech x gn!reader

Synopsis: you wanted to move forward in your relationship with him, and where else but a glowing mushroom cave?

Tags: fluff, marriage proposals, reader is a simp, self indulgent, glowing mushrooms, bot proofread

Word count: 1.3k+

Notes: @dove-da-birb @fukashiin you guys did this

Masterlist

In the heart of the enchanting forest, where sunlight filtered through the leaves like gold and the gentle rustle of leaves created a soothing melody, you meticulously orchestrated your plan as your heart raced with a blend of anticipation and nervousness. Every detail was carefully thought out, every petal placed with the utmost care, leading to a hidden cave that held the promise of magic and wonder.

Standing at the entrance of the cave, your pulse raced like a wild stallion as you envisioned the impending moment. The culmination of weeks of meticulous planning now hinged on the next hour, and your hopes and dreams seemed to hang in the balance.

Your heart skipped a beat as Jade's figure emerged from the mountain trail, and an involuntary smile painted your lips as you waved him over. His presence alone was enough to calm the storm of nerves swirling within you. Jade's eyes softened as he caught sight of you, hastening his steps to close the distance between you.

"Ah, there you are, my pearl," he greeted, his voice a tender caress as he drew you into his embrace, planting a kiss on your forehead. "It feels like an eternity since I last saw you."

A giggle bubbled from your lips at his endearing exaggeration. "Jade, it's only been a couple of hours!" you chided playfully.

Jade chuckled, his warm laughter resonating like a soothing melody in the forest around you. "Time has a funny way of bending when I'm away from you," he mused, his fingers gently brushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Oh, you," you shook your head fondly. "Now, let me show you something amazing! " you said as you intertwined your fingers with his, a natural fit that felt as though you were two puzzle pieces meant to be together. "Follow me, okay?"

"If my dearest love wishes it, then I shall follow wherever you take me," Jade responded with a teasing twinkle in his eye, placing a hand over his heart in his customary polite manner.

You let out a playful sigh, a mixture of exasperation and endearment as you tugged him gently towards the cave, though you could hear him chuckle quietly at what you assumed to be the sight of your reddened ears.

As you ventured deeper into the cave, the soft luminescence of the mushrooms cast a gentle radiance along your path, painting the surroundings with an otherworldly glow. At last, you arrived at the carefully arranged picnic, where his favourite dishes were lovingly presented, the aroma mingling with the earthy scent of the cavern.

You watched his eyes widen in awe as they settled on the sight before him. The luminous mushrooms that adorned the cave's walls cast an ethereal radiance, their enchanting glow reflecting in his gaze like stars twinkling in a night sky. A mixture of excitement and doubt churned within you as you waited for his reaction.

"Surprise," you managed to say, your voice laced with a blend of hope and apprehension. "I wanted to make something special for us."

Jade's gaze shifted between the radiant mushrooms and you. The genuine wonder that crossed his features made your heart swell with a mixture of relief and pure affection. "This... This is incredible," he marvelled, and you found your lips curling into a smile, mirroring his unabashed appreciation. "You've truly outdone yourself, my dear," Jade said.

Your laughter was soft and genuine, an unburdening of the tension that had been coiling within you. "I'm so glad you like it," you admitted.

With the air buzzing around you, a mixture of enchantment and joy, the two of you settled down on the cosy spot you had prepared. You handed Jade a mushroom and egg sandwich and watched as his expression transform into bliss, his enjoyment evident in the way his eyes closed briefly, savouring the interplay between the earthiness of the mushrooms and the richness of the egg.

"I've never felt such happiness," he murmured, after finishing the sandwich. His eyes met yours with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine.

This is it.

Your confession, the words that you've rehearsed countless times, teetered on the edge of your tongue, ready to spill forth.

But before you could muster your courage, he gracefully drew you up to your feet, his movements imbued with a sense of purpose. With a deliberate shift, he gracefully lowered himself onto one knee, a gesture that carried a weight of significance that slowed time itself.

In a moment suspended between heartbeats, he produced a velvet box, opening it to reveal a ring that seemed to capture the essence of elegance and enchantment—a pearl centrepiece surrounded by diamonds. His words tumbled out with a raw authenticity that left you breathless. "You've brought magic into my life, made every day brighter, and every challenge surmountable. I don't want to wait another second to make you mine in every sense. Would you do me the honour of taking my hand in marriage?"

Caught in the unfiltered authenticity of his words, your breath caught in your throat. Surprise intertwined with an overwhelming wave of emotion, leaving you momentarily speechless. Your cheeks warmed, and your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and sensations.

"You're so sly..." You finally managed to say. His expression faltered ever so slightly, a rare glimpse of vulnerability evident in the poised and polished Jade Leech.

"I was planning to propose to you!" You exclaimed. With deft yet slightly shaky fingers, you retrieve the ring you had poured your heart into choosing. Opening the box, you unveil a silver mushroom ring, customized for the sole owner of your heart.

His eyes blinked a few times as if attempting to process the rush of emotions that had suddenly engulfed him. In an unrestrained explosion of joy, laughter erupted from him, the sound a harmonious melody that reverberated through the space, brushing away any lingering tension.

A grin adorned his lips, one that held the pure essence of his happiness. "You never cease to amaze me, my pearl. I suppose great minds do think alike," he managed between fits of laughter, his voice a reflection of his genuine amusement. "May I?" he asked as he extended his hand.

You nodded in eager agreement, an exuberant affirmation of his question. His smile deepened, a tender expression that spoke of his affection for you. As his fingers connected with yours, and with a touch both tender and deliberate, he guided the pearl ring toward your ring finger. The ring nestled comfortably, as if it had always belonged there. In that instant, his eyes met yours, and you saw a reflection of the unspoken promises that resided in both your hearts.

"Give me your hand too," you softly requested, a touch of anticipation in your voice, and he responded without hesitation. With the delicate grace of a sculptor crafting a masterpiece, you slid the silver ring onto his ring finger. Your heart raced as you watched it settle into place, a symbol of commitment that sent ripples of elation through your being.

He clasped your hand in return, his gaze flickering between the two ringed fingers, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "What an intriguing pair we make," he reflected, his words laced with a touch of wonder and amusement.

His hand cradled yours against his cheek, a gesture that felt like a silent proclamation of his affection. The world around you seemed to fade as you looked into his eyes, the intimacy of the moment enveloping you both. His lips pressed a gentle kiss against the ring on your finger, a kiss that carried a promise and a commitment that went beyond words.

"But I wouldn't have it any other way," he whispered, his voice a warm breeze that brushed against your senses. "I love you, dearly so," he breathed, his fingers weaving through the strands of your hair, finding their way to cradle the nape of your neck, and he met your lips with a tender smile.

Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

#twstnexus #rinnade #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland jade #twisted wonderland jade leech #jade leech #jade leech x reader

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astolary · 10 months

Note

Hiya!! I absolutely adore the way you write tighnari! If you are okie with it, may I request him and his s/o playing hide and seek together?

Thank you<3

I hope you have a lovely rest of your day/night

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓'𝐒 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐈𝐑 .

( Synopsis ) He knew what you both wanted, and you knew what you both wanted.

( Pairing ) Established Relationship. Tighnari x GN! Reader

( Content Warnings ) Tighnari playing hide and seek with reader? It sounds ooc of him but I see him being playful with the reader if they play hide and seek (in a fluffy way) HSHSHJ

( Word Count ) 1.0k+ words // NOT EDITED!

It's been 1 minute and 30 seconds since you started hiding, and you were scared.

One, it would take TIGHNARI a while to find you as your scent blended in with all the life forms residing in Gandharva Ville, along with the scent of Collei's famous pita pockets— but you never knew.

Two, if he could hear the morning dew, he could listen for your laboured breaths— but you never knew! Was he playing with you?

Three, did the forest rangers manage to stall him? You've been a flurry of chaos. Running, around the village, using the four-leaf sigils to pick up the pace, begging your amused co-workers to bombard him with more duties or paperwork—

The leaves rustled behind you, crunching and shaking and screaming and begging you to get up: Hello! Get out of your head! You're going to get caught in the lamest way possible!

"I was wondering where my love could be," Someone mused. "I got overwhelmed with the seemingly suspicious amount of spices Collei used when she asked me to test her food, the sheets of parchment that fell on my hands, and the dogs running over to me all of a sudden. I wonder who could be behind that catastrophe?"

The leaves stopped rustling as if they were shaking their heads at you in mock disappointment. How dare you. We rustled and forced our plant cells to wiggle for you— yet you fail to stay hidden for just 2 minutes. Seriously? 1 minute and 42 seconds? You could have at least stayed hidden for another 3 seconds to make the record 1 minute and 45.

A certain leaf floated and danced in front of your eyes. A bushy, furry, hairy green tail wrapping itself around your body teasingly.

Your eyes stayed glued to the leaf, refusing your defeat. You traced the details of the green plant, admiring the delicately glued flowers and gold flakes embedded in it.

"Do you remember this leaf?" Tighnari asked all of a sudden, staying tails length away from you. (He'll let the game last a while longer, after all, he didn't touch you with his hands yet.)

You nodded fondly.

What was it, the tenth kiss you both would share at the beginning of the relationship? At that time the wind was picking up when he was going to share a kiss with you— only for a leaf from the tree above the both of you to slip in between your lips, effectively blocking Tighnari from feeling your lips against his own.

Although your amused laughter was serotine for his heart, he was most certainly not pleased. His ears twitched around, embarrassed and flustered.

"Do you know what else I'm planning to do with this leaf?" An amused tone edged his voice.

(He's getting his 'revenge.')

You froze and slowly stood up. A forest breeze weaved itself with the strands of your hair. It was like the forest gained hope for you, yes! We believe in you! Now run with those puny legs of yours!

You wholeheartedly agreed, and boosted yourself with the four-leaf sigil conveniently only a few meters away from you.

Tighnari laughed, then you laughed—

— then the forest rangers started cackling when they caught sight of you, Collei giggled, the dogs barked happily, the birds chirped melodiously, and then the forest sang and laughed all together.

"5 seconds!"

Five.

Your heart sped up in excitement, fear, anticipation, childishness, fear dread shame— oh archons you were going to die who cares at this point you were fighting a losing game— "No! Please! I'm tired!" You heaved.

Four.

Despite your complaints, you continued running at a slightly slower pace, then you turned around and grinned— and Tighnari saw the world pause for a moment. You continued pushing him to the limits, yet always slowing down and reminding him to take a break. You listened attentively to his ramblings about research, yet somehow you both would drift away from the topic and end up talking about what you did today.

Three.

The world continued revolving.

Two.

You ran as fast as you could, using what oxygen you had left in your lungs to see mercy for one more time. Faster than the time you chased after him when he stubbornly marched (crawled) further into the desert when you were both younger; faster than the time he chased after you when you stole his final research paper draft, final-final research paper draft, and final-final-final research paper draft.

One.

But not fast enough that you stray far from him (your beacon home), him losing you from his hold (he'll do his best to protect you in this world.)

Zero.

So Tighnari got up, and ran and ran and ran after you.

He promises to do his best to make you smile and laugh. To welcome you home with open arms and lean his forehead against yours and rub his nose with your own. To give his 1000/1000 in the relationship. To love you not because of his primal instincts but because he loved you as both fox and human. To go against the problem instead of fighting each other—

—You promise to not be with him just because of the promise, but because you want to be with him and love him and let him love you. To not say I love you too as if agreeing with him that you loved him as well (you do), but to say I love you too because you wanted to show him more of your love as he has done with you—

You were both an organized mess, the strings twirling and tangling tightly like a cascade of braids.

"—(NAME)! RUN! MASTER TIGHNARI IS CATCHING UP TO YOU!" The children squealed. But it was too late.

You laughed when Tighnari tackled you to the ground. You both rolled on the damp, dirty, luscious grass.

Tighnari squeezed you tight.

"I got you." He murmured, smiling on your shoulder.

"Yeah," You agreed. "You got me."

Then, the forest healed.

—

The forest rangers marvelled at you both.

"Everyone relish at this moment." Umm mused. "He'll be back to being his cranky, sarcastic self later and scold you all."

The forest rangers saw Celestia as they marveled at you both.

Oh dear... Collei contemplated. At least they're both happy.

#（ ❁ଓ.° ） astro! genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #tighnari x reader #genshin tighnari x reader #genshin scenarios

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thisblogisaboutabook · 16 days

Text

Where Fate and Stars Align

Tamlin Week - Day 2/Poet -Tamlin x Reader

Tamlin and Rhysand’s sister daydream of a life of love and poetry.

Warnings: Language, allusions to sex, implied character death

A sea of green splattered with the vibrant hues of varying wildflowers rolled across the meadow in gentle waves, flattening into a soft bed of earth beneath me, my head resting on my lovers chest, bare legs winding through his muscled thighs.

We’d laid in silence for an hour, the melody of spring lulling us into a peaceful daze. I’d spent the morning weaving flowers into his silken hair, his emerald eyes not retreating from me once as I sat on his chest, fingers trailing through those golden locks I adored so.

The world saw him as another heir to a throne but to me, he was a poet, a musician, a muse. I could spend entire days admiring the sculpted features of his face, exploring plush lips with my own.

Neither of us were made for the courtly affairs we were born into, we had the passionate souls of creatives - and here, tangled beside the pool of starlight we were just that. Two artists captivated by the beauty of the world around us, by eachother.

Tamlin pressed a kiss to my forehead, whispering into my raven hair. “Will we be poets in another life?”

I warmed at the thought of him chasing me through space and time, living the vibrant lives that we only dared dream of, dancing the nights away, making love and art in all of its magnificent forms. He’d write limericks and play the fiddle, I’d paint and maybe even learn to play the piano.

We’d live in a studio apartment along the Sidra, sharing our art within the rainbow of Velaris. Or perhaps we’d live in one of the more liberal cities tucked away on the continent where art as a profession was respected and not seen as merely a hobby of the elite with time to spare. Another world, even, where war and grief did not exist.

My delicate fingers traced the curved ridges of his abdomen, “You’ll be the poet, I’ll be the painter. I don’t have the way with words that you and your silver tongue do.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Silver tongue, yeah?”

I hummed at the implication in his tone. “Yeah.”

Turning on his side to face me, head propped on a hand he held my face gently in the broad palm of the other. “Any world where I spend my days by your side, putting my tongue to use in either lyrical or the most salacious of ways is a world I would fight for.”

“Hmmm.” I pondered, tucking a lock of golden hair behind his ear. “In our world, we get to be lovers, not fighters.”

Tamlin let out a somewhat incredulous laugh. “I think you’ll always have that wild streak in you, and silver tongue or not, I am but a mere male. I’ll surely give you plenty of reason to fight a time or two.”

My teeth found my lower lip as I considered. He wasn’t wrong. “That’s not fighting, it’s passion. We’ll turn fighting and fucking into its own art.”

Tamlin’s hand dropped from my face, trailing along my breast, to the indention of my waist, and down to the curvature of my ass. With a little squeeze he only asked, “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

We made love in the meadow, tumbling in the grasses, playing the passionate parts of poet and muse. It was almost- almost believable, until a male voice called from the forest. “Tamlin! Get your ass back to the manor before father has your head.”

Tamlin stiffened. “You need to go.” He pressed a desperate kiss to my lips. “See you in a few days?”

I frowned. “I have to travel with my mother to Windhaven this weekend but once I’m back, we can plan our great escape.”

He looked at me as if he were truly considering it and honestly, if he ever took me up on the idea, I’d go for it. A life of love and peace, what a life that would be.

Pressing one final kiss to my forehead he whispered. “I’ll see you soon, my love. Go before my brother sees you.”

Tamlin hurried into the forest and I could have sworn a whispered, “Who was that?” carried on the wind to me.

And now I wait where fate and stars align.

Through time

Through space

Through love eternal

My poet tried to save me.

This world was not made for us.

—————————————-

Tags: @tamlinweek

General ACOTAR list: @lilah-asteria

#acotar #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #tamlin x reader #tamlin week 2024 #tamlinweek2024 #Tamlin Week Day 2 #Tamlin x Rhysand’s sister #Pool of starlight #spring court #Night Court #star crossed lovers #acotar oneshot #Tamlin oneshot #soft!tamlin #Tamlin in love #Tamlin

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ivryne · 1 year

Text

. . . you drew stars around my scars ! ✧

✦ ╮short drabbles of stargazing with you ☻

✦ ╮xiao, scaramouche/kunikuzush, kazuha

✦ ╮gn!reader ( no use of pronouns )

✦ ╮use of nicknames

NOTE. tried smthn different this time :D Sorry if ooc hehe

Xiao spends his nights on guard. Not letting a single crystalify distract him from doing what he does best--keeping Liyue safe. But tonight is a rather calm and peaceful night. In nights like these, the yaksha sits on the roof of Wangshu Inn, lying beneath the stars, listening to you rant about your recent endeavours. He watches you with a small smile as you tell him about your commissions. He chuckles at your silly stories and reassures you when your intrusive thoughts gets ahead of you. After a long exhausting day full of conquering demons and protecting Liyue citizens, he can't help but long for this moment. Where the two of you sit alongside of each other, basking at each one of your presence—not bothering about the worries of tomorrow. Because right now, it's just the two of you. Not the conqueror of demons or the Vigilant Yaksha and the famous adventurer. But right now, it's just Xiao and [name]; alone with the stars.

Scaramouche wastes no time for leisurely things such as watching the stars. No—he doesn’t have time for that. Not when his plan on being a god is in his line of sight. But there he was laying on the grounds of Mawtiyima Forest, where it's illuminating grass glows beneath his footsteps, eyes towards the stars as he talks about his oh-so-great plan to you. You can't help but smile at his ambitions. Watching him talk about his dreams and hopes of the future—that of course included you—with eyes so bright that it rivals the shine of the stars itself. Scaramouche no Kunikuzushi lets out all his worries and anxieties unto you. After all, you are whom he trusts most. One that he is sure will not betray him like his creator—his mother. One that is not afraid to keep him in check when he strays from his path. One that even after eternity found its end, will always be by his side. And same goes for him.

Light breeze sings in the air like a soft tune forming sweet melodies. It was a quiet night at the Alchor. No signs of either rain or storm coming for the heavens. The sky was darker than the shade of the ocean depths, contrasting the stars that hang in the sky like decorative pieces. Kazuha takes in the scent of the wind, enjoying the gentle breeze of the night. With your hand around his waist and your head on his shoulders, he averted his gaze towards his dear, softly tugging at the strands of your hair—not forgetting to leave a loving kiss on the top of your head after. It had been a long day at the Alchor but being here with you washes his tiredness away. Like fallen leaves swept away with a gush of wind—a gush of wind of your presence. He can’t imagine his life without your existence and Kazuha isn’t ashamed to admit that. Because at the end of the day, who is a poet without his muse?

do not repost, share, or copy ! Reblogs and likes very much appreciated!! ty for reading this! Be sure to give suggestions on what I should write next if you’re up to it!

#genshin x reader #genshin impact #genshin headcanons #xiao x reader #xiao x you #genshin xiao #scaramouche x reader #scara x reader #kunikuzushi #kazuha x reader #kazuha #scaramouche

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sithbelle · 10 months

Text

Hi there. I'm going to be vulnerable for a moment. I wrote this book (working title "Synia") over the last 5 years, and finished it up back in April. Since then, I've been holding onto it, willing myself to send out queries. But the fear of rejection, and the knowledge that it's likely not a "sellable" book, has kept me back from actually sending out any letters. To force myself to do something, I'd like to share the prologue with you all. The story is about a pair of siblings who are Syniae, or creatures who have magical gifts based on synesthesia.

If you would like to know more, I'll be happy to blab on about it ad nauseam. If you know of any publishers or literary agents who are interested in such a story, please let me know. If this falls into the empty void, well...that's also feedback that I need. Thank you for reading the above, and I hope you enjoy the prologue below:

-----------------*-*-*-*-*---------------

Grey.

Everything was grey. The sky, the walls, the fog inside her head. Even her tormentor’s eyes were a piercing, unforgiving grey. It was the color that invaded her every thought from the moment she awoke until the moment she finally passed out.

Long ago, there used to be a spectrum. She vaguely recalled the melody of a forest green, the sweet sound of a tempting red, the echo of a vibrant yellow. That was an æon ago. Now, she was reduced to monochrome, the lifeless color of a rainy day.

Today, she had opted for a change of scenery. Instead of spending the entire day in bed, staring at the grey ceiling, she instead sat next to the grey-filtered transpane along one of the walls, watching the mist that enveloped the view.

Suddenly, the dreaded low, silky voice behind her called through the mental mist:

“Oh good, you’re up. I was beginning to wonder if I had finally broken you.” The disembodied tone had an air of amusement to it, as though it had told some clever inside joke.

She scowled in reply, but did not turn to search for the source of the voice. She had no words for the man. Words had color to them, and this Orb didn’t allow for that.

“I see. Just as conversational as ever,” mused her captor. “Come now, there’s no need for such reticence. We’re far beyond that. After all, we’ve both held up our ends of the bargain so far, and you can clearly see the benefits. You’re fully cooperative now and haven’t tried to escape in quite some time, and in return, your living quarters are quite generous, and I do try to make sure you’re well fed. For all intents and purposes, you are far more my guest than my prisoner at this point.”

And it was true. The sleeping room she was currently sitting in was rather large, and contained a bed, a small table, and two chairs, one of which she occupied. Attached to it was a respectable bathing room, complete with a tub. There was even a small cooking and eating room across a small, narrow hallway. She should have been comfortable. There were just two major problems: she was here against her will, and everything was that same damnable shade.

When she didn't hear the sound of her "host's" footsteps echoing away from her prison,

her curiosity and anger got the better of her. Almost subconsciously, she turned and gave the lurking man in the entryway a withering glance. To the prisoner, he was barely more than a silhouette. What little she could see was distorted into the same washed-out shade by the specially- filtered light. Slate shoes and the bottom half of a charcoal suit protruded into frame, along with a pair of ashen hands clasped in front of his sharkskin belt.

He responded to her glare by tugging slightly at the cuff of his sleeve, almost as if he were uncomfortable. It was a ruse, she knew; they had played this scenario out before. She turned back to face the table and transpane as the Grey Man strode in from the entryway behind her. His footsteps tapped a muffled rhythm on the shaggy grey carpet. In another life, she could have made a song from it. Now, it was just another sound to interrupt the monotony echoing pointlessly in her mind.

When he reached the remaining chair across from her, he paused before sitting, and instead looked down at her calculatedly for a moment. Then, he pulled her forward across the small, round table by her chin, forcing her brown eyes to meet his grey, separated only a couple centimeters. She was a bit taken aback at the action, but did not dare show it on her face. He had never been this aggressive before.

“Tell me, Synia, what makes you hate me so much? After all, you invited me. I merely gave you everything you asked for,” he purred.

Her eyes widened for a fraction of a second, then just as quickly returned to the hostile glare she had perfected in the last year. He had just given her the ability to escape, but he didn’t know it.

Yet.

She fought to keep her thoughts from showing on her face, taking care to ensure that the mask was firmly in place. Fortunately, he misunderstood the lapse.

“Ahhh, yes. The truth is rather uncomfortable, isn’t it? Just think: if your curiosity and desperation hadn’t gotten the better of you, you wouldn’t be here, and this whole mess could have been avoided. How selfish of you,” he said, almost a whisper. The man thrust her chin away, forcing her to break eye contact and instead focus on her balance. He smirked slightly as he stood up and faced the entryway.

“Still, I must be grateful. Thanks to you, I have been given the greatest gift of all. Because of your greed, I’m free to move as I wish, and every whim I could think of is catered to my specific design!” His voice rose slightly with each sentence, as if convincing himself that it was true.

He paused and when he spoke again, his voice was back to its usual silk: “Before too long now, I'll have cracked the code, and you will truly be at my mercy. I’m getting oh so close. This last experiment yielded some remarkable results that the bots are still analyzing. And when I do figure it out, I will be able to be rid of you for good. Until then..." He trailed off dramatically as he walked towards the door. She did not turn to watch him leave.

His footsteps paused behind her, and there was complete silence for several seconds. Her curiosity once again betrayed her. As she turned, she saw him standing with his back to her, the grey fob in his hand extended to unlock the door. However, he didn’t activate it. Instead, he had waited until he knew she was watching to leave his parting shot. His voice returned to the deadly not-quite-whisper:

“Well, that’s the only reason you’re still alive.”

He activated the fob, and the door clicked open. She had already turned back to face the transpane again by the time he had crossed over the threshold. There was a sound of the electomag lock bolt sliding back into place, followed by gentle footsteps that retreated back into the silence.

She closed her eyes and exhaled softly, like she had a million times before. Only this time, there was a monumental difference: he had finally made an error. He had been so careful in the last four-hundred-and-thirty-two days, sixteen hours, and twenty-two minutes to make sure that her entire life had no color except grey. Every single surface and feature had been carefully selected to prevent her from using her gift.

He had the bots shave her head every other day or so, leaving nothing but a faint, grey stubble. Her now threadbare clothes had been carefully selected to be comfortable, but monochromatic. There were no mirrors, and every surface that could have possibly held a reflection was scratched or matted down, so she could not see herself. And her tattoos…she still couldn’t think about that, even as she subconsciously touched the scars on her left forearm where one of them used to be. She was to be as much grey as the room itself. But they could not change her eyes.

Her brown eyes.

For an instant, as he held her gaze so close to his own, the filtered light was broken by his own shadow, and his wintery stare became twin mirrors. For the first time in three-hundred-and-ninety-six days, eight hours, and twenty minutes, she saw a color. And she remembered.

She remembered what brown felt like.

That tiny glimpse was all she needed. It was the spark of hope she had been waiting for, that she had almost given up on. She had a color; a good one, even. For the first time in her life, she was grateful that her eyes were the color of cesspools, as he had once described them.

Now all she had to do was focus, plan, and wait for the perfect moment. She had all the time in the Orb. After all, he stupidly thought she was beaten.

#writing #writeblr #novel #new novels #long post #I'm so scared to share this lol #thanks for reading #querying #publishing #synesthesia #Synia #Syniae

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odditycircus-2002 · 3 months

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Since your requests are open: could you do a fic about MK11 Fujin hearing the reader sing and he thinks it’s absolutely beautiful, so the reader does a mini concert with just him watching?

If you need certain songs to put into this, I got you:

A/N: Thank you for the songs and for my first fic request that doesn't involve my usual Mortal Kombat men! I hope I do Fujinn justice, as he seems like a chill dude. Oh! And for the song in this fic, I went with "The Voice" by Celtic Woman. I'd thought it would be fitting with its elemental lyrics. I'll also try to keep these requests as gender-neutral as possible unless specified otherwise.

The Voice

Being the god of the Wind came with many perks. Not only is Fujin granted with divine power, but also the ability to fly and ride on the winds to wherever he desires. Currently, the wind god has no specific location where he desires to reach. Fujin is currently content with riding the winds on a rare peaceful day in Earthrealm, with no sign of an upcoming attack from Outworld's inhabitants. That is until the demi-god caught wisps of a melody within his breeze. The melody carried soft notes with an almost haunting quality to it. Fujin eases his winds to a halt within a forest, waiting to hear more of the melody.

His patience is rewarded when he hears it dancing on the breeze again. Fujin judges by the volume of the music, its source isn't too far from him. With footsteps light as the wind he commands, the demi-god treks through the woods, the music becoming louder and clearer with each step he takes. Eventually, his search takes him to a clearing with some mostly smooth boulders in the center. On top of those boulders sat a young adult Earthrealmer plucking at the strings off a worn but loved fiddle. They occasionally would play some notes before following them by singing in possibly the most beautiful voice he's ever heard in all of his existence.

"I am the voice in the wind and the pouring rain. I am the voice of your hunger and..."

The earthrealmer trails off before letting a huff of frustration which is when Fujin decided to make his presence known.

"Why did you stop?"

"Gah!"

You let out a shout in surprise, fumbling with your fiddle and bow as they almost fell from your arms. Fujin holds up his hands in a placating manner as he takes another step into the clearing with a soft expression on his face.

"Forgive me, I didn't mean to startle you,"

"Are you blind?"

You cut off the strange looking newcomer, taking in his bright pale eyes and long silver braid.

"Pardon?"

"Your eyes. They're really white as if you're blind. Are you?"

Fujin gives an amused grin.

"No and I am glad. Otherwise, I'd never get to see you sing err..."

"Y/N, the name's Y/N. Do you have one too stranger?"

You are quick to ask as you turn your head away from the tall and handsome newcomer, hoping he doesn't see your flustered expression.

"My name is Fujin."

The demi-godd decides to leave it at that, for now, not wanting to further surprise you and possibly drive you away by revealing his role as one of Earthrealm's divine protectors and god of the wind.

"So Fujin, you caught me at a bit of a bad time,"

"And why is that?"

Fujin gently asks. You look around at anything but the newcomer, while running your fingers along your bow.

"Well, I'm supposed to be composing a song. I have the notes but I don't quite have all the words."

"If it helps, your singing is very beautiful."

"Oh uhhh, thank you."

You blush as you start to absentmindedly pluck a few notes of your fiddle. Fujin is now just a few feet away from you, close but with respectable distance between you.

"I would like to listen to more of your work, if you'll allow it."

"Sure! Uh- I mean- I mean, sure. That would be wonderful. I could use a muse anyways."

You then stand up on your feet, realizing how you're only just slightly taller than Fujin with the platform beneath you. You dust yourself off, you then hop onto a higher boulder. After making a few adjustments with your fiddle's strings, you start to sing.

Fujin was fortunate enough to snatch snippets of your singing while he was riding the winds, but those pale in comparison to hearing you right in front of him. Your voice is strong and proud. It is ethereal and eerie. It is as if listening to the Elder gods sing themselves.

When you start to play your fiddle for the musical segment of your song, you jump down from your boulder to start skipping around the clearing. You almost appear to be floating on air, and actually do at one point, but you hardly notice as you're too engulfed by the music. Around you and Fujin, the wind starts to blow and picking up the fallen leaves, filling the clearing with a myriad of warm colors.

"I am the Voice of the past that will always be filled with my sorrows and blood in my fields!

I am the Voice of the future! Bring me your peace... Bring me your peace and my wounds... They will heal."

Throughout your mini concert, Fujin's gaze never wavered from your form as if trying to commit every move and gesture to memory. As you paint a rhapsody with your body but write a requiem with your song. At last, it comes to a stop and so the Demi-god does the only thing he could think to do and claps.

You give a beaming smile at Fujin before taking a pantomime bow.

"Thank you, thanks for being such a great audience and muse."

You then blow him a kiss.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #ask answered #kombatkid #fujin x reader #mk fujin #fujin #mk fic #mk fanfic #fanfic #oddball writes #mk11 #mortal kombat 1

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plotandelegy · 10 months

Text

Unleashing Creativity: Top Ways to Generate Unique Fantasy Story Ideas

Photo: Standard License- Adobe Stock

Welcome back,

There's no denying that fantasy has been at the core of some of the most enchanting, daring, and downright unforgettable tales (for one reason or another) that have shaped the literary landscape. Who doesn't love the thrill of journeying to some new adventurous place with otherworldly creatures and epic battles between the forces of dark and light? Personally, I'm all about the dark side. Even for the most seasoned writers sparking the imagination can be difficult. Things like inspiration seem elusive as a dragon hiding in a mist-covered mountain. Today, I will cover a few ideas to find your muse. My muse sometimes hides in a dumpster...so let's find better ways to do this, shall we?

People Watching, with a Twist: Observing people in everyday situations can be a great source of inspiration. Now, add a layer of 'What If?'. What if the barista at your local coffee shop could control elements? What if the older woman feeding pigeons in the park was a retired warrior queen? This exercise allows you to create complex characters with intriguing backstories, ripe for the world of fantasy.

Travel Through Time: History is brimming with periods that, with a little twist, can become fantastic settings for your story. Victorian England's social hierarchies, the Renaissance's scientific innovations, and the fierce battles of Feudal Japan offer fertile ground for fantastical tales. Weave in elements of magic or mythical creatures, and you have an intoxicating cocktail of historical fact and enticing fantasy.

Bioinspiration – Fantasize with Flora and Fauna: The natural world is a veritable treasure trove of inspiration. Let's call this approach 'bioinspiration.' Start by exploring Earth's biodiversity's peculiar traits, behaviors, and survival mechanisms. Why not envision a species that communicates like whales but hunts like a pack of wolves? Or perhaps a plant that blooms under the moonlight and has the power to manipulate time? The possibilities are endless when you fuse the wonder of our world with a dash of fantasy.

Take a Hike (Literally!): When was the last time you truly engaged with the wilderness, the mountains, or the sea? Natural landscapes are rife with potential for fantasy storytelling. As you walk through a dense forest, consider the creatures that might inhabit such a place in a fantasy realm. That murmuring stream could be a water nymph's dwelling, and the wind howling through the canyon might be a dragon's call. Try to visualize your surroundings through the lens of fantasy — you may be surprised at what your imagination conjures up!

Harness the Power of Music: Like music, few things can stir the soul and spark the imagination. A piece of music can evoke many emotions and images depending on its rhythm, melody, and harmony. Try listening to music without lyrics (like classical, orchestral, or ambient music) and let your mind wander. Picture the scenes that the music evokes. Is that tranquil harp melody the song of a peaceful elven village? Does the tumultuous symphony represent the climax of an epic battle? Use these mental images as a springboard for your fantasy narrative.

So there it is, everyone. Five unique ways to draw up some inspiration. Go find your muse!! Probably shouldn't have said mine hides in a dumpster. I'm all about being superstitious, so I'm sure she'll never speak to me again.

Happy Writing,

Indigo Everly

P.S. Need more? Check out this post!

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