#All of these in one day is truly making me feel delighted to be alive

[dollwrites]

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), human!fem!reader, dumbification, fellatio, mindbreak, two dick!sukuna, making out with sukuna’s belly mouth hehehe, degradation, multiple cock worship, true form!sukuna, mentions of flirting with death, smothering, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗸𝘁𝗼𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟯 ∣ day seventeen [ ryomen sukuna + dumbification ]

“My, I think I’ve truly broken you now.”

his voice was thunderous; and surrounded you— engulfed you in vibratory baritones that would’ve melted any thoughts you might’ve had— had your brain still harbored the capacity to produce any. the autonomous luxury of thinking for yourself had long been fucked out of you, and you were left with muscle memory. base instinct.

“You act just like an animal now, a bitch who’s always in heat.” the grin the curse wore was evident, even though you couldn’t see his face. he was proud to have destroyed who you had been, and created a living, breathing sex toy in your place. both, massive cocks obstruct your view as their weight lays across your face, and you drag your lips, parted and drooling, over every ridgid vein. you could suffocate under their heat, Sukuna’s raw musk, and the idea alone excited you. “Yip for me, wild bitch.”

your eyes roll back in your head, and you mewl for him, gurgling against his skin. even his insults had become intoxicating. he could make you cum by telling you how worthless you were, and how little you mattered outside of draining his balls, and your cunt would tremble and weep for him all the same. you let out a pathetic, half bark, kissing your way down to his heavy balls, smashing your face into them, smothering yourself in his stench. the smell of sweat and cum that clings to the rough hair and salty skin.

“That’s a good girl,” with a hand heavy on your head, he pushes your face deeper, allowing you an inch closer to asphyxiation. your feet slip out from under your butt, kicking slowly, “You’ve been fucked so dumb, haven’t you? Stupid girl, you can’t even feel that you’re about to suffocate between my legs. Do you even care anymore?” he purrs, the crimson in his gaze wild and looking down at you with impish delight, “Look up at your master, fuck meat. Watch me smile as you teeter on the edge of death.”

your legs are the only things that try and protest your smothering— sliding against the gritty ground, but your arms hang, hopelessly at your sides. and though you choke and garble against his gnads, you can bring no oxygen into your lungs, your eyes start to water as they flicker up the length of his mighty torso at him. the mouth that splits his stomach is grinning wider than the one on his countenance, baring sharp teeth.

“Your glassy eyes trying to focus on me while you struggle for breath makes my cocks hard.” he chuckles, smearing your face against the dual bases, a growl rumbling as you choke on him, “To think that you’d been the brightest, young thing your village had to offer me, and now not a single thought lives behind those dazed eyes. I’m afraid I’ve turned you braindead.” he chuckles, and it sounds like unfiltered malice. “You’re not even alive anymore, not truly. You rely on my cocks to live now, don’t you?” his fingernails dig into your scalp, prying you from his groin, and you sputter and choke on the influx of oxygen that burns your deflated lungs. your mouth slack, tongue hanging out, and drool leaks from the tip of it, but all you can taste is his musk. the scent of him that he’s bedaubed your countenance in. “You’re not living if I’m not inside that fragile, little body, gaping your greedy holes. Am I wrong?”

but you shake your head, hanging limp in his grasp, before he laughs and releases you; your face smears against his abdomen, meeting the mouth there, and the lips part to allow the fat tongue to slither out. you, too, push your tongue closer, and the curse’s muscle dominates your smaller, weaker one, coiling around it, before filling your entire cavern with its girth. the imposing length of it ensures that he can taste the inside of your throat when he pushes you flush against his belly, your cheeks scraping the harsh, sharpened teeth. you’re half convinced that he could probe all the way through you with that wicked, thick tongue of his, but he’s simply being merciful by forcing you to gag and cluck as it bulges against your windpipe.

“You worship every inch of me, and take me in every hole like you’re the bravest little whore. But in reality, I know the truth.” he grins, bestial and depraved, and runs his thick, calloused fingers through your hair, leaning back to watch your mouth and gullet decimated by yet another organ of his. “You’re just too stupid to care if you choke to death on my tongue, and too greedy to mind the sensation of my big cocks tearing your ass apart.”

#sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna smut #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

[hotmentransformed]

No One Acts Like Gaston

When Alex first received the call from Disney offering him a position as a character actor at one of their parks, he was over the moon with excitement. After graduating with a BFA in Acting several years earlier, he had hardly been offered any work, so he was over the moon to work at the happiest place on earth. Eager to embark on this new adventure, he accepted without hesitation, not even bothering to ask which character he would be portraying.

Entering the park, Alex was greeted by a symphony of sights and sounds that filled him with wonder and amazement. Children laughed and squealed with delight, the air was alive with the promise of magic, and families posed for photos with beloved characters, an honor he would soon hold.

The anticipation bubbled within Alex as he approached the grand spires of Cinderella's Castle, shooting upwards like a beacon of dreams. His heart raced with excitement, each step bringing him closer to the realization of his lifelong ambition.

As he marveled at the sights around him, Alex couldn't help but feel a sense of awe wash over him. This was it – the beginning of a new chapter in his life, a chapter filled with adventure, excitement, and the boundless possibilities of Disney magic. But before he could dwell on the moment for too long, a friendly voice interrupted his reverie: "Hey there, new guy! You ready to make some magic?"

Turning to see the source of the voice, Alex found himself face to face with a Disney cast member, their eyes twinkling with mischief and merriment. With a nod and a grin, Alex followed the cast member through the bustling crowds, and towards the double doors that read Cast Members Only.

As Alex stepped into the backstage area, the air crackled with excitement and anticipation. He could hardly contain his enthusiasm as he followed the seasoned Disney cast member through the bustling corridors. The cast member regaled Alex with stories of the magic that awaited him within the park's hallowed walls. Alex listened intently, his heart soaring with every word as he imagined the countless adventures that lay ahead.

As they approached a nondescript door labeled Character Costumes, the cast member turned to Alex with a knowing smile and pushed open the door to reveal a sight that took Alex's breath away: Row upon row of costumes stretched out before him, each one a vibrant tapestry of color and imagination. From the sparkling gowns of princesses to the swashbuckling attire of pirates, the room was a treasure trove of Disney magic, unlike anything Alex had ever seen. But as his eyes scanned the array of costumes, they came to rest on one in particular: a regal ensemble that seemed to pulse with an energy all its own. It was Gaston's attire from "Beauty and the Beast.” Confusion washed over Alex as he stared at the costume, his mind racing to catch up with the sudden realization of what was happening. "But… Gaston?" he stammered, turning to the cast member in disbelief. He was a small guy, maybe 5’ 8” on a good day and 120 soaking wet.

The cast member nodded with a reassuring smile. "Trust me, kid, you're gonna knock 'em dead," he said, clapping Alex on the back before ushering him into the locker room to get into costume and closing the door behind him.

Left alone with the costume amongst the lockers, Alex decided to give it a shot. He slipped into the too-large ensemble. Was he ready for this? Could he truly embody the larger-than-life persona of Gaston, the arrogant and boisterous villain of a beloved fairy tale?

As Alex stepped into the Gaston costume, the fabric seemed to cling to him with an almost magnetic force, molding itself to his form in a way that felt simultaneously exhilarating and unsettling. At first, there was a faint prickling sensation, like pins and needles dancing across his skin. Then, a surge of energy pulsed through his veins, surprising him and causing him to lose his footing and stumble back onto the bench.

His limbs trembled as muscles he didn't know he possessed began to swell and ripple beneath the fabric. What was once a slender frame now burgeoned with newfound strength, his arms thickening with sinew and his chest expanding with each breath. The costume strained at the seams as if struggling to contain the sheer power that coursed through him. Stretching taller and taller, Alex felt his massive muscles elongate and shift, leaving him a gigantic 6'4". But it wasn't just his physique that changed. As Alex glanced down in disbelief at his massive legs and feet which now seemed miles away, he watched in awe as coarse tufts of hair sprouted from his skin, spreading like wildfire across his legs, and etching its way up his torso and onto his arms. The sensation was strange and unfamiliar, yet somehow right, as if this was the form he was always meant to inhabit. As he scratched the forest of hair on his massive chest, he felt... manly.

His face began shifting, his features sharpening and his jawline becoming more pronounced. A shadow of stubble emerged along his jaw, framing lips that curled into an arrogant smirk. Even his eyes seemed to change, gleaming with a newfound intensity that mirrored the character he now embodied. With each passing moment, Alex felt himself slipping further and further into the role of Gaston. His movements became more fluid, more confident, as if guided by some unseen force. His Adams apple, swelled, leaving his moans deeper and more resonant, booming and echoing with authority, his voice dripping with the same bravado that defined the character he now portrayed.

A surge of energy pulsed through him, and a strange sensation washed over his entire being. The world around him spun in a dizzying whirl, and Alex lost his footing and reached for support, only to stumble toward the doors to the main park and fall through. The sights and sounds of Disney World blended into a chaotic blur. Faces rushed past him, their voices a cacophony of excitement and laughter, but to Alex, they were nothing more than fleeting shadows in a swirling storm.

His head swam with confusion as he struggled to make sense of his surroundings. "Where… where am I?" he muttered, his deep voice lost amidst the din of the crowd. He reached out, grasping for something – anything – to anchor him to reality, but found only the empty expanse of the park stretching out before him. In his disoriented state, Alex stumbled forward, his movements clumsy and uncertain. But then, as if guided by some unseen force, he felt a surge of power coursing through him, filling him with a newfound sense of purpose.

With a deep breath, Alex straightened his posture and squared his shoulders, channeling the boundless confidence of the character he now embodied. His steps grew more assured, his gestures more deliberate, until finally, Gaston arrived at his designated spot in the park.

Gaston stood before the eager parkgoers, flexing his muscles and flashing a cocky grin. Embracing his new role with all the bravado and charm of the legendary hero, he was ready to leave his mark on the magical kingdom of Disney in a way he never could have imagined.

#male tf #transformation #tf #transform #male transformation #muscle tf #muscle transformation #disney tf #costume tf

[moonlit-midnight]

The Sound of Sunshine

Characters: Housewardens (pick your favorite).

Genre: Romantic fluff.

Summary: A good time spent with a loved one is worth it, no matter the weather.

Warnings: GN!Reader, self indulgent, inspired by a real experience.

—

The skies above are gray, and the morning, autumn breeze is a little bit chilly.

Yet, there you are, running barefoot around the seashore, looking gloriously alive while laughing gleefully without any care in the world.

Happiness looks truly beautiful on you. Your lover thinks to himself as he admires you from a close distance.

Getting up from the sandy ground, he slowly walks up to you. An endearing smile plays on his lips at the delightful sound of your laughter echoing through the semi-empty beach. 

“I’m surprised that you’re having a good time.” 

Your running comes to a halt when you hear his voice behind you.

“Did you expect me to be sulking?” A grin graces your face as you turn around.

“I’m glad you aren’t.” He chuckles lightly, and lets out a relieved sigh. “I sort of feel bad though. I woke you up early to watch the sunrise, only to find out that there’s a 70% chance of rain.”

“Even if we checked the weather earlier, I’d still want to come here.” you wrap him in a warm embrace, lips curled into a smile as you look at him with fondness. “It’s alright. We’re making memories at the moment, so that’s all that matters.”

He returns a soft smile, and holds you closer. 

“You’re right, sweetheart. Come to think of it, it’s actually a pretty lucky day.”

He woke up feeling hopeful. Blessed to witness a new day with the person he loves so dearly.

He got to walk hand in hand with you in a peaceful and beautiful place.

He got to sit next to you on the ride home.

Indeed, it was a pretty lucky day filled with gratitude and the little joys in life. 

Whether the sky is pouring rain or the sun is shining in all its glory, he loves every moment of it because it was spent with you.

#🌸hannah’s musings #twst #twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst scenarios #twisted wonderland imagines #twst fanfic #twst fanfiction #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #kalim al asim #kalim al asim x reader #vil schoenheit #vil schoenheit x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #malleus draconia #malleus draconia x reader #twst fluff #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

[laurashapiro-noreally]

Looking for something to read?

Oh look, it's another recs post! This time I'm featuring two stories per author. These are writers I always make time for, whose work stands out as unusually hot, clever, funny, or smart -- sometimes all of the above.

I'm gonna start you out strong with two by @werpiper: After Hours takes Aziraphale and Crowley to the baths after their oyster supper, and all sorts of interesting pleasures are there for our angel to sample. Piper's Crowley is one of my favorites: always evaluating the situation, not quite aware of what his own heart is doing but feeling it anyway.

Fitting In is a new story, still a WIP, but I am utterly tantalized by Muriel's first taste of love -- and tea. This is already rich in detail, soft and fragrant, and I can hardly wait for the action to get going in earnest. The pairing seems surprising but when you think about it for ten seconds of course it makes sense. Sex workers help the curious, the awkward, and the inexperienced every day, bless them.

If you enjoy these, check out @werpiper's back catalog -- they have done a ton of ineffables-through-the-ages, and their series Miracles and Heresy is worth many delightful hours of your time.

I love what @copperplatebeech has been doing lately:

He's Not My Friend is a T-rated story that explores Aziraphale's constant refusal to acknowledge his relationship with Crowley, and Crowley's mirror of that, and how things glacially shift over time. It is subtle and yet specific, it will make you ache and smile.

All Of The Above, also T-rated, is a warm and fuzzy alternative to that, a hilarious celebration of true friendship that made me laugh out loud and still got me right in the feels.

@copperplatebeech can do everything, from quiet, gentle, and romantic to devastating plotty AUs to extraordinarily horny established relationship to absolutely ridiculous humor. Do dive in if you haven't already.

Next up, @cumaeansibyl, master of kink:

better living through technology manages to shove everything I want in a dirty story into less than three thousand words: uptight Aziraphale reduced to sodden wreck, Crowley gleefully showing him what he's been missing, character-driven erotics, and exceptionally funny dialogue.

indulgentiam peccatorum nostrorum is somehow all that and more, turning the "I was wrong" dance into a kink (something I can't get enough of, recs welcome). This one is post-Bastille so it is extra-juicy. Mind the tags!

@cumaeansibyl has a gift for established relationship one-shots, which readers of mine will know are my entire jam. They also have a mind-meltingly hot inverse!omens AU that features different variations of angelic/demonic Crowleys and Aziraphales for our ineffables to play with.

A new-to-me author, Calico, has me hanging by a thread with their Ineffable Romans series. If you want to remember that your ineffables aren't human, that they are inordinately clever but very stupid, that the feelings they have for each other are truly beyond what anyone alive has ever felt, Calico may be the writer for you. This stuff is deep. Also hot af.

Sub Rosa reads like a nasty shag at Petronius', but there's so much more going on here. It is Extremely Queer, driven by power dynamics, and Crowley is fully demonic here and absolutely in control...or is he?

The Intemperance of Liber Pater continues on this theme, with dialogue-driven smut that reads less like a seduction than an inevitability. There's another story in this series, unfinished, and I can't wait to see what happens next.

Last but not least: two short pieces by @ineffabildaddy. I stumbled on their stories just this week and I absolutely love their approach, which I've not seen done quite this way before.

take me as your wife has a tight first-person perspective as Crowley meets Aziraphale for a meal and imagines (or is it his imagination?) that Aziraphale is suggesting Certain Things about how they might occupy themselves later. Indeed, is he suggesting even more? Something about their relationship? Or is it all in Crowley's head?

Only in Dreams is kind of a companion piece, from Aziraphale's point of view -- though hundreds of years later. This one's set after the events of S2 and although just as romantic as take me as your wife, it also offers an ineffable take on the ol' glory hole concept. Just in case you thought I was getting soft. 😏

@ineffabildaddy has a whole series of poems and ficlets like these and I can't wait to explore them all.

#good omens #fic recs #good omens fic recs #ineffable husbands #ineffable partners #ineffable spouses #ineffable divorce #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #crowley #aziraphale #aziracrow #crowley x aziraphale #rare pair #muriel

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Um so, reader was a princess, and when she was alive if you wanted to court her, you had to beat her in a fight. If you lost you had to pay, with money, property, clothes, crops, animals, food. Anything really. And many many men tried but all failed. So she had a lot of stuff when she died (I imagine that she probably had feasts with all the food that she got)

So reader is a participant in ragnarok, and says like “if you win I’ll let you court me”

with Buddha, Loki, Thor, Lu Bu, Jack, Poseidon, Hades, Kojiro, Ares, Hermes, and Odin

(this is based off of the princess that if you lost you had to gift her, I think, ten horses. So when she died she had like 10,000 horses)

Ah you mean Khutulun! Great-great-granddaughter of Genghis Khan himself!

-You were a Mongol nomadic princess, part of a once great nation that by the time you were born was beginning to wane. However, just because the nation’s power was waning, didn’t mean your own was.

-You were the strongest of your siblings, the only girl out of thirteen brothers, able to beat them in any sort of combat sport from archery to horseback riding to your personal favorite, wrestling!

-None could oppose you, even men two to three times your size, you always pinned them, you always won!

-This stemmed from the deal you made with your father, giving him power as a bonus, that you would only marry someone if they beat you in wrestling, and if they lost, they had to give you 100 horses.

-You settled down after your father’s reputation took a blow, after you remained unmarried, despite the 10,000 horses you now called your own.

-In Valhalla, your reputation preceded you, as you rose in your prime, when you were winning horses left and right, as well as food, treasure, and fine silks, and you were delighted to meet truly strong people, ones you could test your strength against.

-Many were eager to find out if your legends were true, if you were undefeatable, many were cocky and quickly learned that your legends were completely true, as you beat them left and right, making it look easy!!

-Despite getting to challenge warriors from all over the world and from all points in history, you quickly grew bored with these weaklings that kept trying to challenge you, day after day, wanting you for their own, but your stipulations remained intact, if they wanted the chance to court you, they needed to beat you and so far, none were worthy to do so.

-That is, until you met (Love) who just seemed to radiate power, power that quickly caught your interest and you could feel your pulse rushing as he came, seeking you out, as he was curious if your strength was really all that.

-You cracked your knuckles, giving him a flirty wink, “If you beat me you can date me.” While surprised at your arrogance in your skills, he agreed, wanting to test himself.

-Was stunned, staring up at the sky as you bent over him, hands on your hips, huffing lightly. He didn’t win, but he sure as hell gave you a workout, more than anyone ever had in your whole life, alive or dead. You beamed down at him, “That was fun! Wanna go again?” he groaned as he sat up, feeling achy and stiff all over, “You’re inhuman, I hope you know that.” You weren’t bothered, “I just know what I want, and I want someone who can beat me- that proves that they’re strong.” He grinned up at you, taking your hand as you spoke, “C’mon, let’s go get something to eat and drink- you can try again tomorrow.” Despite the pain he felt, he wanted to try again, feeling drawn to you.

            -Ares, Kojiro, Jack, Hermes, and Loki

-He couldn’t believe it, he had lost! He was one of the strongest warriors in Valhalla and he lost to a maiden of all things!! You beamed as you offered your hands to help him up, banged and bruised but grinning as you had finally gotten what you wanted, a match that made you work for the win! He took your hands after seeing the gesture and you easily pulled him to his feet, “You’re the closest anyone has ever gotten! You’re pretty strong!” he felt a bit flattered at your praise because you meant every word of what you had said. He ached, but in a good way, as you gave him what he also wanted, someone who could stand up to him for more than a few seconds. The two of you ended up going out for food and drinks, not a date, as you asked him to fight you again tomorrow and he grinned at your enthusiasm. You truly were unlike any woman he had ever met before and he didn’t want to let you go.

-Buddha, Thor, Lu Bu, Poseidon, Hades, and Odin

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror ares #ror kojiro sasaki #ror jack the ripper #ror hermes #ror loki #ror buddha #ror thor #ror lu bu #ror poseidon #ror hades #ror odin

[justporo]

Revelations

A Night of Fake Smiles and Hidden Lies: Chapter 10

As the joy and their love still echo through each other, Astarion sweeps up Tav for another dance - that makes them reminisce about all the things that might have been and be thankful for all the things that are.

Author's Note: Three months... It took me three months to get back to this - I am deeply sorry but life - you know. I have however this and four more chapters already drafted ready for you - and there's still more to come so I hope you're ready to jump back into this adventurous night with Astarion and Tav, start the night anew or maybe get lost in it for the first time? Anyways, I hope really hope you enjoy a chapter of a lot of emotions and banter - there's quite some more stuff to come!

Songs: Serenade for Strings in E Major - Antonín Dvořák (and also that's their second waltz)

Pairing: Astarion/Fem!Tav (You)

Warnings: none

CHAPTER LIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER |NEXT CHAPTER

~~~

You could have just stayed like this for the rest of your days: Astarion’s arms firmly holding you while the world blurred around you completely with your head thrown back and you dancing together until the world would fall down.

Your vampire being your single focal point, the one thing to always return to, the only thing you really ever needed – while the rush of the dance and the prickling sensation of having drunk just a tad too much gave you a feeling of pleasant light-headedness. Life could be so easy, so beautiful.

The waltz went on forever with you and Astarion beaming broadly, drunk on love, champagne and each other. And yet the dance ended all too quickly.

When an enormous crescendo began announcing the end of the waltz you lifted your head up again and grinned broadly at Astarion who was still rushing with you over the dancefloor as if he’d never done anything else in his life.

His red eyes were so open, the smile on his face as genuine as you had ever seen. A look that could almost make you believe that it had truly always been like that: no two hundred years of torture, just this perfect, gilded vision of a happy life.

You both knew it wasn’t true – but for this moment it was more than enough.

Horns in the orchestra rose up for a grand finale. Astarion turned you even more eagerly for these last couple of rounds, an almost feral grin splitting his face. Just the pure joy of the speed with which you were almost tossed around, made you throw your head back once more. A joyous, wild, almost feral laughter escaped from your lips – caused by the simple but deep delight of feeling so, so alive. You saw it on your vampire’s face too: a power so strong his undead self might’ve been more alive in this moment than others were in their whole existence.

Astarion’s hand let go of yours and joined his other at your waist and you leaned back even more to enjoy the dizzying rush, your hands quickly moving to cover your lover’s while you were sure you had never felt this free in your life. Flying couldn’t have felt any better than this.

And the vampire couldn’t rip his eyes from his beloved, the corners of his mouth curled up so far it made his face ache as he beheld his soulmate experiencing some of the rawest, purest joy, he’d ever seen in anyone. It seemed one of the divine entities he’d prayed to had eventually answered his pleas by putting you in his way after all. Finally blessing him with a piece of paradise.

But not a single god could have even competed with you in this very moment as Astarion could barely believe the beauty of the love of his life. His feeling of wonder and glee not second to yours in this moment that felt almost detached from anything – your surroundings, your past, your future.

Truly a night and a moment to never forget.

With a beat of the drum the orchestra ended on a high note. Couples all around you broke into cheering and clapping while the other guests joined in. The volume quickly rising levels over what the musicians had just ended with.

But Astarion and you didn’t join in. His hands were still on your hips and his eyes on your flushed face full of happiness. Your chest was heaving heavily. Who could have predicted that dancing could be just as exhausting as going into battle (or indulging in other physical activities). Your earlier assessment had been quite right you felt like. Although of course the aftermath felt much more delightful and much less dreadful.

It did nothing to bother you though because wild, unbound happiness was still flooding through you. And you saw it mirrored on Astarion’s face as well in the way his eyes sparkled like garnets and you felt his hands restlessly squeeze and tap on your hips, his vigour barely contained.

He opened his mouth wanting to say something while around you people were still in a frenzy. But before he could get a word out you stepped forward, dragged him down by his face and crushed his lips to yours in a way you had never kissed him before. The urge to show him how your heart was flowing over with love for him in this very moment was just too strong to resist. You needed an outlet for the overflowing in your chest – your whole body!

The vampire let it happen, arms raising almost helplessly before he wrapped them around you and pulled you in closer, kissing you back with just as much force and emotion. And when you released him, detangling from his arms, his crimson eyes were wide with surprise. He almost stumbled back being released from your passionate embrace.

Astarion was flustered and obviously speechless.

It must’ve been an illusion of the low lights, but it almost looked like a slither of pink blush crossed over his face up to the tips of his pointy ears. He blinked several times while his mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes were still on you: as if he had perceived a miracle right in front of his own eyes. And maybe that was exactly what you were to him.

Well, that surely was a first.

Your giggle felt almost a little hysterical as you rode off the last waves of this incredible emotional high and wrapped your arms around Astarion as your vampire was still staring off into space in surprised but delighted bliss. Meanwhile around you the dancefloor emptied slightly while the thundering applause had drizzled out already.

“We need to do this again some time, love, if that’s your reaction”, Astarion murmured as he regained his wits slowly and reciprocated the hug slowly. You buried your face at his chest, still grinning almost maniacally, not ready to let the moment pass.

Some of the guests passing around you, leaving the dancefloor threw the two of you glances. Everyone had seen your display of heartfelt affection and that seemingly had warmed up the crowd to you. One or two people went as far as touching your or Astarion’s shoulder as you kept standing there: the very illustration of a happy, young fairytale couple.

As that thought crossed your mind you almost started to giggle again – your little ironic roleplay had maybe become just a little tad too convincing.

You lifted your face off Astarion’s chest who had let his thumbs wander softly over your arms. “Now, my prince, are you ready to get your white stallion and steal me away for our first night of passion before we get married, and I have no other task in life than bear your children and raise them while you go off to some war from which you’ll never return?” you asked him, rambling on and on with the newly found energy and placed the back of your hand on your forehead in a dramatic gesture.

The vampire’s eyebrow in the meantime had arched higher and higher the more you added to the cliché imagery of your fairytale. He grinned at you, eyebrow still raised, giving him the expression of seriously questioning your sanity in this moment. “Darling, I honestly think you’re getting just a tad too much into this,” he whispered while the party, the drinking, the chatter rose up around you again.

“Also you do know my stance on horses, sweetheart.”

You laughed and pinched one of his cheeks. You were definitely still feeling high of everything and were in a silly mood. Thankfully Astarion didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he could barely contain his own laughter as he answered you.

“But at least you put the night of passion before the marriage, at least it’s not a prude tale,” he continued, his voice taking on a sultry note while he inclined his head to you.

“But scrap the terrible, stereotypical ending, my love, I’ll happily stay right here with you for as long as we both want to,” Astarion closed, his tone now a lot more genuine again. You could only answer with a big happy smile, placing your head against his chest again.

The orchestra in the meantime had taken a short break, some of the musicians allowing themselves to indulge in a singular glass of offered champagne before they continued playing for what would surely be a very long night still.

You pulled back from Astarion a little with a sigh: “You’re right, I guess this is all going straight to my head more even than the alcohol. I guess once we’re back home I will have to spend a week in the Lower City and get shit-faced every night at Maeve’s until they let me sleep under the big bench on the floor. You know to ground myself again.”

“Ah see, there’s my little feral street cat that I love so much again”, the Astarion replied in a haughty tone – with a tinge of disapproval and teasing disgust.

You kicked him – but only slightly as you stood too close to him to get him properly. “Be nice, you prick!”

The vampire only laughed and while holding onto your slim shoulders pressed a quick kiss to your lips. The orchestra was now getting ready to start playing again. The conductor tapping his baton against his stand again to gain everyone’s attention. Another waltz was announced while you tried to kick Astarion again for being a meanie.

“You could give me just one deeply romantic moment once in a while, you know that, Astarion? Without ruining it with your sass!”

“I didn’t bring up getting drunk at this piss poor establishment someone even dared to call a tavern,” Astarion replied. You simply tried to swat his arm but the rogue took a half step back, dodging just out of your reach

“Did you really get so drunk at this forlorn tavern that they let you sleep it off on the floor?” he asked with mock worry on his face

“I won’t answer this question right now, Astarion,” you replied and let go of him to take a step back yourself while pursing your lips.

“Well then, darling,” he said and grabbed hold of your wrist before you could step away from him further. “Allow me another question then: will you join me for another dance?” The low, golden light of the chandeliers sparkled in Astarion’s eyes as he said that with his head slightly bowed to you. He was all of a sudden on his best behaviour again as you heard the musicians in the orchestra readying themselves for another piece.

In this in between moment you took a second to take your partner in again. You had been with him all night. You had seen him get dressed even but with how he looked at you right now you were just wholly smitten by him again. He looked like sin in a suit – and you were so ready to indulge again. Forgotten was the short insolent quarrel. But how could you stay mad at him for long when the look on his face and wide red puppy eyes spoke of nothing but adoration and deep affection for you.

So, when his smile and his offered hand promised you another round of exhilarating joy should you accept his offer, you didn’t even think before agreeing and grabbing his hand.

His fingers wrapped around yours as Astarion smiled happily at you and swung you around once more while the strings softly began playing a new piece.

Your vampire made you take one – or two – extra turns before he pulled you back in, arm wrapping firmly around you once more and then starting to twirl around the room again. It was a slower waltz now that fit well with how the mood seemed to have shifted from electrifying frenzy to something a bit calmer now. The dancefloor had emptied quite a bit. Many of the guests, as you noticed while turning your head around while Astarion made you glide over the polished wooden floors, were back to drinking, chatting, showing off and gossiping. And another thing you noticed: if everything had been highly polished at first, just like the gold buttons on most everyone’s doublets or the silver of amulets around necks, there was a slight general disarray noticeable. Some cravats and scarfs had been loosened, buttons opened up, lipstick smeared, and headpieces started to slide dangerously off people’s heads. All which was going hand in hand with a general air of tipsiness and derailment. At this point in the night, it might’ve been impossible to find just about one person not slightly stumbling from maybe having had one or two glasses of champagne too many.

And you were pretty sure you even spotted at least one hysterically laughing tiefling lady sipping directly from a huge, heavy-looking bottle – having to use her other hand to even get it lifted. When another turn took you around again, you spotted her once more – and realised that it was the woman who’d been involved in the group from earlier. Apparently, she had dodged her cheating husband for a good bottle in hopes of something less treacherous – good for her.

Your gaze snapped back to Astarion, trying to find out if he had spotted her as well. And you knew he had when you saw his wicked, almost vicious smirk as he pulled you in a little closer with his hand on the small of your back. He sighed abruptly and dramatically while his face formed to a mocking expression mimicking disappointment and compassion: “Seems not everyone can be as lucky, loving and harmonious as the two of us, my love.”

Apparently just for the timing of the punchline did your feet choose this moment to make you stumble and almost fall onto Astarion. He hissed at you.

Only his roguish quick reflexes grabbing you by the shoulders and counterbalancing you stopped you both from toppling over. He lost not a moment before picking up the pace of the waltz again while you were still recovering from the shock.

Astarion clicked his tongue in disapproval, lips pursed: “I stand corrected.”

You snarled at him and were just about to show him how ‘harmonious’ you could be when you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. Someone else that was familiar.

You craned your neck in hopes of catching another glimpse while Astarion kept scolding you for not paying attention and how you would cause the two of you to lose the image of the imposing, perfect couple if you tumbled over each other while dancing. But you were indeed barely paying attention and therefore ignored what your partner was blabbering about.

Another turn and then you saw them again: another couple enjoying the dance together. Maybe a tad slower than the two of you and a bit less fluently. And in one half of the couple, you recognised your lovely elderly lady neighbour. She was dancing with a man much taller than her small frame, elegantly clothed with long black hair, tied together at his back in a low ponytail. While they slowly and a bit sluggishly turned, you saw how young and devilishly handsome her partner was. She was beaming up at him. And just the huge, genuine smile took years off her aged face.

You couldn’t help yourself, your mouth fell open. Your gaze snapped back to Astarion once more, hoping again that he had observed what you had just seen. And surely, he had, because there was at least slight surprise and even a bit of admiration on his face – his downturned corners of his mouth and lifted eyebrows giving him away.

“Old lady still got it within her, it seems”, Astarion commented and hummed approvingly. You had to agree.

“I hope it’s not for her money or estate,” you replied. You felt how the vampire just shrugged under your hand on his shoulder. You craned your neck again to look at them. But when you saw how he as well looked at her as if she was the most precious thing, he’d ever come across you knew it wasn’t.

“I do wonder though. When they go to bed how well she’s taking it with the age differ-“, Astarion began with a wicked glint and a grin that made him look almost fiendish.

This time you stumbled fully on purpose. Causing Astarion to hiss at you angrily again.

“You’re one to talk about age difference, grandpa!” you hissed back and stuck out your tongue when he began twirling you around with more force as if he was trying to work the insolent attitude right out of you by force.

Had he called the two of you harmonious just moments ago? Apparently only if the harmony was accounted for by the way you both violently bickered with each other like an old married couple.

“Why am I even taking this from someone barely older than a child,” Astarion snapped angrily while his grip on you got a little firmer, trying to show you there would be no more slip-ups, not under his watch.

“Be happy, I’ve decided to take care of an elderly citizen, love,” you spat back but barely hiding a grin.

Astarion huffed. “You’re not simply after my money, are you?”

You snorted. “There’s barely any notable amount to speak of, is there?”

The pale elf sighed in mocking disappointment: “So you’re only in it for the love – how sentimental and very unbusinesslike of you, my dear.”

“Guess, we’ll have to do with the feelings we have for each other,” you sighed back. Astarion too gave you another dramatic sigh as well while you shared a deep look into each other’s eyes. Then you both started to laugh softly before the strings of the waltz became slower still and more melancholic, the bittersweet music making a feeling of yearning rise up in your chest.

You were focused wholly on each other again with only the music lulling you. The room, the party, the other guests swirled by in colourful but easily ignorable billows. With steady moves again now you let yourself be taken away by the feelings rising up within your chest and your vampire’s tender expression while you moved over the dancefloor once more with the elegance of water in motion.

“Have you,” Astarion began in a much more sombre and genuine tone now after a while of just gazing at each other, “have you ever wondered how it would have been? If we’d met under different circumstances? Happier ones, I mean.”

“You mean, if you hadn’t become-“ you awkwardly gesticulated around with your hand wrapped with his. He simply nodded. And you immediately understood what he was trying to say: would there have been a version of events where you had found each other without all the pain and the turmoil in between?

The way he looked at you in such a vulnerable manner now made your heart ache. You saw the cracks within him he usually did his best to cover up and hide – and that he only trusted you with to only ever see. If only there was a way to relieve him of this weight he felt.

A pained smile swept over your face: “I have.” You sighed. You had to look away for a single second.

“Although in every version I’ve come up with so far we would have crossed ways and probably would have only spared each other a spiteful glance – with me having grown up homeless on the streets and you being a magistrate with noble upbringing and everything”, you continued. And then you remembered something you had spoken about earlier that evening, your gaze snapped back to his. “And I would have probably left with your purse and laughed about how stupid you were.” A weak smile played on your lips with the weak attempt of lightening the mood again.

You saw some of the pain you felt mirrored on the vampire’s face. His gaze shortly slipped from yours as well as he seemed taken by his own imagination of an alternate meeting, another ending to your story. Then he offered you a small, slightly sad smile when he looked into your eyes again: “If only you were an actual princess, things might have turned out differently, my heart.”

“That’s a lot of ifs, isn’t it?”

Astarion shrugged and was prepared to move on from the topic, but now that he said it, there was something about it.

“Although,” you began, catching the vampire’s fleeting attention once more. He cocked his head slightly. “This might have not even the biggest ‘if’.”

Astarion’s interest was caught, his full lips forming a questioning “oh” while his eyebrows jumped up. Frankly, he seemed thankful for an opportunity to leave the territory of hurtful memories and regrets behind.

You cleared your throat, getting yourself ready to reveal something about your past you didn’t like to dwell on – at all.

“Well, I might have told you that my father was a pretty high-up elven noble, right?” Astarion bowed his head to you, waiting for the new piece of information in this, narrowing his eyes.

“Turns out, he’s actually the king of a small, mostly secluded living elven enclave in some Faerun forest – all this being part of the reason why my mother dropped me on the steps of some cloister after birth. A bastard child is one thing, but the bastard child of a king – unimaginable, not tolerable”, you burst out all at once like ripping the knife out of a wound. And just like a blade viciously pulled from flesh made blood gush from the cut, making it hurt more, you felt how a whole lot of emotions of long hidden away memories were about to wash over you.

You couldn’t hold the vampire’s gaze for a few long moments while you fought to not get swept away by hurtful, long stowed away memories. Astarion’s gaze at you softened, his thumb wandering over your entwined fingers. He didn’t fully understand what all this meant for you. But he surely knew and realised when someone was not willing to share further details about pain of the past.

If you wanted there would come a time and a place to talk more about this and what I meant for you. But the middle of a dancefloor during a big ball was neither for that.

You remained in silence for long heartbeats while you asked yourself why you had so randomly offered up this piece of information about yourself – something that you had neither thought about in a long time nor wanted to pay any mind to in the future. Where you came from meant nothing to you, only the present and the man that held you was important for you now.

After a while you had caught yourself again and you lifted your head to meet his gaze again.

“I guess that’s just what we are right now, Astarion, a vampire only having broken free from his master after two centuries and a former street kid that also barely made it as a thief”, you said with a small bitter laugh.

Astarion let his thumb wander over your entwined hands again while he pulled you in closer once more, both his hands on your back now as he still made you both turn around lazily, another waltz nearing his end.

“For what it’s worth, darling,” he murmured and offered you a genuine smile with wide, open eyes, “I’m sure you agree we would have both been happy if we hadn’t gone through everything we did to get here. But I am still very happy that I’m here now and that I get to share it with you, my heart. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

His crimson eyes conveyed his love for you as he cupped your cheek and the strings drew out a single last mournful note. Slowly your lips curled into a smile and saw it spread over Astarion’s face too – two partners in crime.

What was it even worth to mourn something that could have never been?

And you had to agree with him. You were incredibly happy for the time since you had met him, if not for the circumstances. But luckily, from there on out, things had been looking up tremendously.

Your future, you thought, looked quite golden, and with a fair share of garnets strewn across.

Taglist (DM if you want to be added please):

@spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @aurasyn @margoteve @usuallyunlikelyfox @hollowmasque @worryknotdear @wraithmaine @darlingxdragon @hereliesblackdragon @ayselluna @ajokeformur-ray @i-cant-get-into-my-other-account @rikuyrk06 @marina-and-the-memes @somewhatclear @davenswitcher

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #a night of fake smiles and hidden lies #tav #bg3

[blindbatalex]

bruins fic rec list 💛🖤

after 4+ years I've recently found my way back to hockey -- and hockey rpf -- which has meant that I had so much fic to catch up on, because man, you guys can write. here are some of my recent favourites, listed in alphabetical order, with one cheeky self-rec thrown in.

feast season by @sphesphe. swaymark, 5,963 words. 5+1 with ully hand feeding sway food. as with any story by sphe the characterisation and the language are spot on in this one, sway as the pov character is a delight to read, and sphe possesses a singular talent in taking food sharing to hitherto unknown levels of hotness.

finally i feel like i have a home here by @fvcking-damage. marcheron, 21,257 words. an au fic, in which bergy, who is trying to get his life back together after a bad break-up meets brad, a photographer, on a chance encounter late one night and it goes from there. hands down one of the favourite fics i've read in any fandom. every character is written with so much care and depth the healing the story affords them without dismissing their heartbreak is sublime. simply a masterpiece.

Funny That You Mention It by @thebluejayawe. marcheron, 7,531 words. marchy realises that bergy is going to propose - things spiral from there. this is a rollercoaster of a fic which grabs you by the throat and does not let you go until the last word. it is such refreshing take on bergy and marchy's relationship, and marchy is a revelation in this story. his insecurities and love and anger - it's all done to perfection.

like a stranger by yours truly. marcheron, 13,142 words. bergy was the person brad wanted by his bedside any time he was injured or sick -- except now bergy is retired and things haven't been the same between them in some time. what can i say? i am still trying to process bergy's retirement and i'm a hoe for the way ppl can grow apart and find their way back to one another.

they must have been leafs fans by @dragongirl180. marcheron, 9,704 words. brad is missing and there remains little hope of finding him with each passing day. beside himself, Patrice makes a impulsive decision to buy a pet rat. an absolute delight of a story. bergy's anguish at having lost marchy is written so vividly it comes alive off the page and you read it and think -- yes, this is exactly how it would go if marchy was turned into a rat via some hockey magic.

Sweet by anonymous. marcheron, 15,559 words. per the NHL rulebook, teams must provide any vampires on the roster with an emergency blood-use donor for medical treatment, should they be incapacitated during a game. an ingenious take on the vampirism trope, this fic makes you think YES this is exactly how it would go if bergy was a vampire. brad's voice as the pov character is so good and i am obsessed with the way the author uses the vampirism set up to explore who they are to one another and what it means to want and to care for someone. it is also ridiculously hot.

Please do reblog and add more recs -- including self-recs -- because i still need more fic to read! also, given that I am me, these are almost all marcheron but I am here for any and all bruins pairings. 👀

#boston bruins #hockey rpf #marcheron #swaymark #fic rec

[pinchofhoney]

Hiiiii can y do a story with prompt 1 on the fluff factor . I’d love it where The reader is spotted on the shadow and set and every is curious as to who they are until Ben finally introduces them

thank youuuuu

lights, camera, a(ffe)ction # 200 follower special event

» prompt event » special events masterlist

fluff prompt one: “do you know how glad i am to have met you?”

photo is not mine, credit to the owner

i combined this request with another one, because they are practically the same: can u do one where the reader is spotted wandering around the shadow and bone set and all the cast members wonder who she is until they find her and ben together

ben barnes x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

warning: none, it's pure fluff with singing in the trailer and meeting people important to ben

summary: Is it a coincidence that both home and love have the same number of letters? Maybe home is not just the four walls of your apartment.

a/n: i hope the title i came up with makes sense, because it popped into my head at the last minute,, hi!!<33 thank you for joining the event, i hope you enjoy this short piece of writing! let me know<3

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: @wolfmoonmusic @myladydarkling @alexxavicry

Oh, don’t you dare look back.

Just keep your eyes on me.

I said you’re holding back…

Movie sets were known for their bustling energy and frenetic pace, with hundreds of people scurrying to and fro to ensure everything was running smoothly. The air was often alive with a palpable sense of excitement, as everyone strived to bring their best themselves possible on the set.

But on this particular day, there was one trailer that stood out from the rest. From its closed door came the unmistakable sounds of radio music, its catchy tunes carrying on the breeze like a siren's song. But it wasn't just the music that was drawing people's attention. Mixed in with the melody were the strains of joyous laughter and loud singing, the kind that only came from someone who was truly enjoying themselves.

“She said shut up, and dance with me!” Ben sang, his eyes alight with amusement as he watched your smile widen and the sparklers in your eyes dance with laughter.

Together, you stood in the middle of the cozy trailer, relishing the moments of rest between his takes. The music from the small radio was infectious, and soon you both found yourselves dancing clumsily to the beat, lost in the sheer pleasure of the moment.

As you twirled and spun, your cheeks ached from the laughter bubbling up inside you. You couldn't help but giggle at the sight of Ben, decked out in a black-and-gold costume with carefully coiffed hair. He looked every inch the villain he was playing on screen, but in this moment, he was carefree and alive with joy, his voice ringing out in exuberant song.

“This woman is my destiny,” he said with a playful grin, his hand gentle as he took yours and pulled you closer, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“She said ohohohhh!” you chimed in, howling like a wolf rather than hitting the notes of the song. But it didn't matter. In this moment, nothing did. You both laughed until tears gathered in your eyes, your hearts overflowing with the pure delight of being able to be in this moment.

As the music continued to fill the small trailer, you found yourself leaned into Ben's embrace. The bustling film set outside seemed to fade away as you rested your head on his shoulder, feeling his arms wrap around your waist. You couldn't help but smile as you noticed the intricate details of his coat – the stitching, the buttons, the way it hugged his shoulders. It was clear that it was a high-end piece of clothing, and you couldn't help but feel a little intimidated by it. It probably cost more than your six months' rent for your rented apartment and you would sink to the ground if you accidentally destroyed something.

But Ben didn't seem to care about the coat, or anything else for that matter, except for the two of you in that moment. His warmth and strong embrace made you feel safe and cherished, like at home, even though this place was far away from him. Not only because you were in a trailer on a film set, but also literally far away – you were in Hungary, in Budapest. You could hear the beat of his heart as he held you close, and it only made your own heart beat faster.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze and feeling a rush of affection wash over you. Ben leaned down and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head before resting his chin there, and you felt your heart swell with love. The music had slowed down now, and you felt Ben swaying with you in a gentle rhythm that only he seemed to know. “Do you know how glad I am to have met you?” he whispered, his voice soft and filled with emotion.

His words brought a smile to your face. “I'm so glad to have met you too,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible above the music. “You make everything feel like home.”

You heard a deep sigh from Ben, and his arms slowly loosened their grip around your waist. He muttered about having to go back to the set, sounding downcast at the thought of leaving your embrace. As much as you wanted him to stay, you knew that his work was important and that he had to go.

You leaned back slightly, looking up at his face. His lips were pursed into a pout, and his brows were furrowed in disappointment. You couldn't help but smile at his cute expression, feeling a sense of warmth in your chest.

“Can I come with you?” you asked, not wanting to leave his side just yet.

Ben's face brightened up at your suggestion. “Yeah, of course you can,” he said, grinning from ear to ear. “You can see what goes on behind the scenes, and meet some of the other actors.”

You felt a flutter in your stomach at the thought of meeting Ben's co-stars. You had always been a fan of his work, and the idea of getting a glimpse into the movie-making process was thrilling.

It was your first time on a film set and to say you were stressed was like saying nothing. You clung to Ben's arm tightly as he led you towards the set. The butterflies in your stomach had turned into a full-blown storm, making it hard to catch your breath. The hustle and bustle of the film set were overwhelming - people rushed past you, carrying equipment and props, while others huddled around monitors, intently watching the scenes being filmed.

You were excited to finally see the behind-the-scenes action of the movie industry, but at the same time, you felt like you didn't belong there. Watching big productions on a TV screen was one thing, but witnessing how they are made was something completely different. The thought of intruding on Ben's professional life made you feel like you were crossing a boundary.

As you walked past the crew, you noticed some of them staring at you. You couldn't tell if it was because they recognized you as Ben's girlfriend or if they were just wondering who you were. Their curious gazes made you self-conscious, and you felt like you were under a microscope.

You kept your head down, trying to avoid eye contact with anyone, and focused on the ground beneath your feet. You felt like a stranger in a foreign land, unsure of what to expect or how to behave. The adrenaline pumping through your veins made you feel alive, but it also made you feel vulnerable and exposed.

As you walked further into the hall, the actors slowly turned back to their work, but some of them still threw you curious glances. You recognized them all from the show, from the fierce Jessie Mei Li to the charming Kit Young. You couldn't believe you were actually on the same set as them. You had heard a lot about them, you knew they were amazing people and they all treated each other like family, but you had never had the chance to meet them in person before. Just as you were starting to feel overwhelmed again, you quickly felt Ben squeeze your hand to give you encouragement.

You looked up at him and saw the familiar glint of mischief in his eyes. He leaned down and whispered in your ear, “Don't worry, they won't bite. Well, maybe Kit will, but he's harmless.”

You couldn't help but giggle at his joke, feeling a warmth spreading in your chest. It was amazing what kind of character Ben played in Shadow and Bone series, because in reality he was the sweetest person you had ever met. When he playfully winked at you, you felt all the tension slowly leave your body. It was a small gesture, but it conveyed so much.

As Ben led you towards the group of actors, your heart pounded in your chest. You couldn't believe you were actually meeting the people who brought your favorite characters to life. You felt Ben's hand on the small of your back, and his touch filled you with a sense of comfort and safety.

The actors turned to face you, and you felt a wave of nervousness wash over you. But as Ben introduced you to each of them, you could see the warmth in their eyes and the smiles on their faces.

“Y/N, it's so nice to finally meet you!” said Danielle, as she enveloped you in a warm embrace.

“You must be the lucky girl who stole Ben's heart,” said Kit, with a mischievous grin. You laughed, feeling grateful for the playful banter that seemed to break the ice.

“He talks about you all the time. He's been practically glowing since he met you,” Amita added with a lovely smile.

For a moment you felt like crying, feeling a sense of acceptance and belonging that you had never experienced before. The other actors came forward, greeting you with smiles and hugs.

“Welcome to the family,” said Freddy with a grin. “Now I'm going to be a little jealous,” he joked, to which Ben rolled his eyes with amusement.

As the actors welcomed you with open arms, you felt like you were part of their family. You laughed at their jokes, listened to their stories, and shared in their excitement for the show's success. It was as if you had known them for years, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of belonging.

Looking up at Ben, you saw the pride and happiness in his eyes. You knew that he was happy to share this special moment with you, and that he was grateful for the love and acceptance that his co-stars had shown you.

#pinchofhoney's special events #200 followers #200 follower special #200 follower celebration #shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone fanfiction #ben barnes #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes imagine #ben barnes prompt #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x female reader #ben barnes x fem!reader #ben barnes fluff #fluff #fluff prompts #ben barnes x you #ben barnes x y/n

[pedropascallme]

The Good, the Bad, and the Better II

Pairing: gunslinger!Joel Miller x f!Reader

Summary: "You stood, walking into the main room to see the Millers sat at the kitchen table, conversing in hushed tones. They stopped speaking when you approached; Joel kept his gaze down, and Tommy shifted to look at you, offering a polite smile."

Content: Mentions of crimes? Is that a warning? If I missed anything please let me know!

AN: Hi this took forever to edit because I love overusing adjectives. Anyway this is part 2, part 1 is here! I likely won't be updating this series super often because I'm way too busy but nevertheless I persist.

You learned quickly that this was not a house of God.

The Miller boys were…brash, put lightly. It wasn’t shocking; of course, two grown men, unmarried and in a territory where anything could happen, and often did, were going to eat, drink, and be merry on their own accord. But you were startled by Ellie’s delight at being included in their fliting and fighting. You listened for hours on end as El and Tommy hurled insults and laughed while Joel looked on with a glint of humor in his eyes, never cracking a smile; the men drinking beer and Ellie sipping sarsaparilla, her hand dwarfed by Tommy’s as she tried her best to beat him in an arm wrestle.

You didn’t mind, in all honesty, but the culture shock was something you hadn’t expected. Maybe you should’ve known that your aunt’s friends wouldn’t be gentlemen to the highest degree, given her track record and the company she often kept, but it was better than sitting at home and waiting to join your parents in the Heavens—death by boredom and self-pity.

Despite the disorder, you found solace in the moments you were granted now, in Texas. The sun was radiant, adding natural blush to your cheeks and making you feel truly alive in the midst of all your losses. And the company was, though chaotic, far from bad. You continued to teach Ellie the hand games you used to play with the girls at church, Tommy watching idly, his foot hitting the floorboards in sync with the rhythm of your hands smacking together. You did, truly, have a soft spot for the younger girl. It was something that felt familial, the thought of two orphans living under the same roof and sharing the experience of adventure and the wild west—or maybe it was just because she made you laugh till your stomach hurt, tears creeping out of your eyes when she made you cackle with glee, the taste of the salt on your face finally associated with joy instead of sorrow.  

Tommy, too, was increasingly easy to be around. He was polite, for someone who lived in such a frenzied manner, and seemed to genuinely mean it when he waved good morning, putting breakfast in front of you first when the sun rose.

“How come I never get fed first?” Ellie whined, still in sleep clothes, knees tucked into her chest as the sun crept in through the windows, heating the house.

“Ladies first.” Tommy winked, serving you before reaching over to drop down Ellie’s plate in front of her.

“I could be a lady!” Ellie spread herself out, arms and legs wide as she slumped in her chair.

“Do ya wanna be one?” Tommy arched a brow, feeding himself now.

“…Just want some damn eggs…” She grumbled.

But Joel still made you out of place, still gave you that uneasy heat in the bottom of your stomach that you had grown accustomed to pushing down. He stayed mostly quiet, even when it came to rough housing; his looming presence felt more adjacent to violence than Tommy and Ellie’s wrestling, and his blunt, grunted responses to their insults made your heartbeat pick up just a bit. He barely addressed you, opting to care for the horses while you ate, leaving for town shortly after and returning after dinner. You didn’t know where he went, where he found himself on the long days under the Texan sun, and all Ellie ever told you was not to worry about the work the Millers did.

You heard Joel say your name once or twice on occasion while you readied yourself for bed, Ellie snoring behind you on the mattress you shared, unable to pick up any other dialogue between Joel and Tommy from the other room.

You hated to admit it, so you didn’t, but hearing your name fall from Joel’s lips excited you more than anything else ever had.

~~~

Texas, November 1847

“I don’t understand—how will I know if the next card will be the right number to help me get to twenty-one?” The cabin was quiet, save for your conversation, and you heard birds circling nearby, calling down at the nothingness of the fields below. Joel and Tommy had left after breakfast, and Ellie used the silence to her advantage, finally teaching you the games Tommy said would create a poor influence.

“You don’t! That’s the point—give me your cards.” Ellie snatched the stack of cards in front of you, shuffling them together with her own and dealing them out again. “It’s all luck, that’s all betting is. Joel says it’s cheat or be cheated, but I think it’s fun.”

“He doesn’t seem to say much else…” You muttered, peaking at Ellie over your cards, “Oh—uh, hit me.” You tried to remember the correct terminology for the game, making El smile up at you.

She passed you another card, “He’s not so bad. Don’t know why you don’t like him.”

“Who said I didn’t like him?” You felt defensive, “I never said that. It’s rude to talk about people when they aren’t in your presence.”

“Ain’t it also a sin to gamble?” Ellie looked devious, and you bit back the urge to toss your cards at her.

“I don’t have money down. And I don’t think Joel likes me.” You countered. “Never even looks at me.”

“That’s just what he’s like,” Ellie echoed Tommy’s words from a month prior, and you still didn’t like how they sounded, “Quiet type.”

“I think it’s rude.”

“So you don’t like him.”

“I like him fine. Just wish he would address me. Wonder sometimes if he even knows my name.” You felt heat creep underneath your corset when you recalled that he did, in fact, know your name, and the memories of hearing him say it in hushed conversation with Tommy when they thought you were only made you feel warmer.

“Uh huh,” the same devious look returned to Ellie’s face, and she revealed her cards to you—a perfect 21, “I win.”

You heard the patter of hooves outside, a whinny, and then the sound of boots hitting the dusty ground. Joel and Tommy pushed through the door, respectively stoic and jovial. You noticed the guns strapped to their legs, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your own skin; why did they need those?

And why did you want to watch Joel pull the trigger?

They weren’t anything like the hunting rifles your father had owned but never used. They looked like props, shiny and decorative, but all too heavy on the belts of the men in front of you to be anything but the real deal.

Maybe they just liked hunting in style; you pushed the thought from your mind, supposing that ignorance would be bliss.

You watched Tommy take a handful of coins from his pocket, placing them on the table in front of Ellie, who delighted in running her fingers over the metal. You stayed seated, curiously stealing glances at the money. You nearly jumped when you felt a tap on your shoulder, turning to see Joel standing over you before he reached out his hand to offer you a coin like the ones Ellie and Tommy were giggling like school children over. You placed your hand over it shyly, feeling the cold of the metal where it met the warmth of Joel’s hand.

“Keep it.” He turned before you could ask what for, let alone say thank you.

You looked at Ellie from across the table. She just smiled.

~~~

You spent the following morning at the small desk in the corner of your bedroom, writing notes to your aunt and describing in less than stellar detail the events of the past month, asking how New York was and ensuring that she knew how deeply you missed her. The paper was old, and the ink nearly dry, but it was all you could find in the house and felt it would be a waste not to use what you had so luckily stumbled upon. You pushed the letter out of the way, putting down the pen and watching it roll back on the wood of the desk. It hit the coin Joel had given you the day prior, and you sat staring at it for a moment; why on earth was this clouding your mind so much? It was just a coin, a dollar piece—Ellie hadn’t seemed disturbed by the wealth the Millers had brought home yesterday, why should one dollar cause your hands to tremble?

You knew why.

You knew it was because of the mystery, the sudden understanding that these men were likely insincere, despite your best efforts to see the best in everybody. You knew it was because of how the coin complemented the tanned skin of Joel’s hand when he had gifted it to you, and the way you could still see the imprint of his thumb against the stamp of lady liberty. The thought of Joel keeping one of the coins with the sole intent of giving it to you made you turn scarlet.

Your first crush had been an older boy at church; his hair was dusty blonde, and you liked the way he sang his hymns. And then there had been the boy who worked at the stables in town, who tried to steal a kiss from you when your father stopped to talk to the man who ran the place. There was the man who worked at the shop down the road, and the other boy from church. And of course, the boy on the ranch next door that your mother insisted you bring fresh bread to whenever she had made enough, pushing a basket into your arms and encouraging you to find yourself a lifelong connection.

But they had all been so…plain.

You felt dirty, knowing that deep down you harbored any sort of feeling for a man who wouldn’t even look you in the eyes, one so much older than you with a hint of gray in his beard and calloused hands, silver gun strapped to his hip and money you didn’t know the source of in his pockets—but maybe that’s what made it fun this time, instead of harboring a guilty conscious about whether or not you were good enough for him, you were left wondering whether or not he was good enough for you.

It was a complete role reversal, a situation that turned the tired trope of your incessant need to be a good, God-fearing young woman in order to appeal to someone on its head. You were already good enough—great, even. Better, at least, than he was.

And at the very least, it was more interesting than any other crush you had experienced.

You stood, walking into the main room to see the Millers sat at the kitchen table, conversing in hushed tones. They stopped speaking when you approached; Joel kept his gaze down, and Tommy shifted to look at you, offering a polite smile.

“Where’s El?” You asked when you realized they wouldn’t speak unless spoken to.

“Off somewhere.” Tommy was casual about Ellie’s outings. You felt almost jealous of how easy it was for her to go off exploring on her own, taking a horse—her horse—and spending her days wild and free; you wondered what life would have been like for you if you had been granted that type of liberation growing up.

You supposed you would be much more like your aunt.

“Oh,” you tried not to show your disappointment at the younger girl’s absence, or your anxiety at being left alone with the two men currently in your presence. You spoke directly to Tommy, facing him to speak rather than leaving your words ambiguous in the direction of both men. Joel didn’t seem to care, not that you’d be able to read his expression properly if he did. “I have a letter for my aunt. Will you mail it for me?”

“You can mail it yourself today!” Tommy’s grin grew wider, “You’re goin’ on an adventure, girly.”

“What?” You couldn’t begin to hide the surprise in your voice. You hadn’t left the house since you’d arrived, opting to familiarize yourself with the space and the patch of land surrounding it, and the thought of leaving made your stomach churn just a bit.

"You have land, ever think to check on it?" Tommy teased, though he clearly sensed your distress with the way he pulled another chair out from the table, beckoning you silently to sit. You did, crossing your ankles and clasping your hands in your lap.

“When? Now?” You prodded, trying to maintain a shred of dignity, but feeling antsy.

“Slow down, now—in a bit. Y’ever ride a horse before?” Tommy narrowed his eyes at you playfully.

“No.” Joel interrupted before you had a chance to open your mouth.

“I—yes, I have.” You tried to ignore Joel, side-eyeing him while you answered Tommy’s question.

“She’s not takin’ a horse.” Joel was gruff, and you liked the way his accent paired with his deep voice, but that didn’t quell your confusion.

“C’mon, Joel—” Tommy raised his shoulders, something you noticed he did when arguing with his brother.

“No. Too dangerous.” Joel leaned forward, “Not worth the risk.”

Tommy let his shoulders sag, looking between you and Joel. He let out a defeated huff. “What, then—she ridin’ with you?”

With you?

“S’what makes the most sense.” Joel shrugged, nonchalant, and reached for a bottle of something on the table before taking a swig. “Safer.”

You think this may be the most you’d ever heard the elder Miller speak in one sitting, and you didn’t know whether to be honored or threatened that he was talking about you.

“I don’t…I can’t ride that well,” you muttered, feeling as though it was only fair for you to get a say in the outcome of this argument, even if you were agreeing with Joel, “Joel’s right.”

Joel and Tommy locked eyes, and Tommy raised his hands in defeat, before silently leaving the table to prep the horses.

You sat quietly next to Joel, sneaking glances, and listening to him swallow the remaining liquid in the bottle he had in front of him. You felt hot again, unsure of why you had agreed to share a horse—unsure of why it was Joel taking you in the first place, why Tommy couldn’t be your guardian for the day, why you didn’t just take the cart they had picked you up from the train station in.

“Y’alright?” You jumped at the sudden intrusion from your thoughts, looking up at Joel, who stared back at you.

“N—yes, I’m fine…How are you?” You tried desperately to make an awkward situation less awkward, still almost frightened by Joel’s presence despite the way it thrilled you. Joel made a face that neared a smile but still managed to come off as more of a sneer.

“Doin’ fine, darlin’.” He stood, finding his way outside to help Tommy, leaving you to reflect on how stupid you must look trying to engage with him. 

When you mustered up the courage to leave the shack and locate the two men, you found Joel mounted on his horse, Tommy winding the rope they had used to keep the animal close to the house around his fingers. Joel looked statuesque; high and mighty, wide shoulders sending a shadow behind him that you let your shoes toe at in the dirt. The suede of his hat barely hid the graying hair he had pushed back underneath it, and as you studied him atop the white, speckled horse, you found yourself thinking of the Bible verse that had scared you so much as a child, about death and his steed. You felt your thighs tremble and buried the thought.

Tommy snapped you to attention, whistling low.

“You ready?”

“I—yes.”

“Got that letter?” He smiled at you. You patted your apron pocket, reassuring both Tommy and yourself that the note to your aunt was tucked away safely. “Atta girl. Get on up there, then.” Tommy nodded towards the horse and an uninterested Joel, and you hesitated. There was no mount, no saddle for you, and the Millers seemed to forget that you were shorter than they were—and wearing a dress. You heard Joel huff before he dismounted, boots landing hard on the dirt, crunching rocks underneath him as he walked towards you and, wordlessly, picked you up.

“Joel!” You felt red rush to your face, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist until he stood parallel to the ever-patient horse, where he maneuvered you bridal-style and waited for you to get your legs around the horse’s midriff. You couldn’t look up, stunned and somewhat frozen in place, refusing to make eye contact with an amused Tommy as Joel himself got onto the horse with ease in front of you.

“El jumps. For the record.” Joel muttered at you, “Hold on.” You hesitated again, raising your arms before an impatient Joel delicately connected his hand to one of your own, pulling it against his stomach. “I don’t bite, darlin’.” You could see the white of his teeth when he spoke. You scooted closer, pressing your chest into him slightly as if to test the waters. He didn’t budge.

“Best get a move on,” Tommy reminded you of his presence, “Wanna be back before sundown.”

~~~

It had been years since you had ridden a horse. As a child, you knew girls whose parents were wealthy, and could afford the luxury of buying their daughters their own personal mare to parade around. You tried not to feel envious; you were happy for what you had—for everything God granted—but you couldn’t help the flare of envy that rose in your throat when you saw girls braiding the dusty manes of their horses, putting Queen Anne’s lace and dandelions in their tails.

Joel was silent. He hadn’t said a word since Tommy had seen you off on your excursion, and part of you was glad. You could focus on the slow sound of the horse’s hooves against the landscape and the way the breeze knocked the short plants over themselves. You could feel Joel’s stomach expand with every breath he took, your hands still planted cautiously around his waist. You found yourself leaning forward into him every few minutes, the comfort of his back, the friction of his jacket against your cheek keeping you grounded. You jumped where you sat when he turned slightly to spit the chewing tobacco he had in his cheeks.

“Sorry.” Joel grumbled a short apology, and you lowered yourself back onto him hesitantly.

“It’s alright.” Your breathing fell in sync with his. More silence followed, and you tried to think of ways you might break the tension that surrounded you. “Joel?”

“Mm.”

“Why did you give me that money?” Your words were quiet, nearly vanishing into the suede of his jacket. Joel didn’t respond for a long while.

“Wanted you to have it,” He shrugged, and you moved with him, his shoulders lifting your neck slightly, “ain’t like you got a job.” His head turned just enough for him to view you in his peripheral, and you looked up at him, not fully convinced by his answer.

You didn’t believe him. “Got land.”

“Not the same, darlin’.” Joel returned his attention to the path in front of him.

“Where’d you get it?”

“Pardon?”

“The money.”

Joel sighed, as if he had been anticipating your line of questioning. “Y’ask a lot of questions.”

“No, I don’t.”

“You’re difficult, too.” He spoke with an air of amusement.

“Yeah? Well, you’re rude.”

“Why’s‘at?”

“You don’t address me properly, you don’t look at me when you speak, you drink too much, and you manhandled me earlier.”

“That all?” Joel snorted, amused by your distaste.

“You aren’t a gentleman.” You removed your arms from his waist and placed them at your sides.

“I’m not?” Joel was taunting you now, entertained by your outburst.

“You’re not.”

Joel purposefully kicked at the horse’s side, encouraging it to speed up and cross haphazardly over a brush. You bounced, quickly returning your hands to Joel, wrapping them tighter around him this time, and feeling his stomach vibrate as he chuckled.

“Joel!”

“You’re no peach yourself.” Joel brought the horse to a trot once more.

“I’m—what?”

“You ain’t as proper as you act, darlin’. It ain’t hard to tell.”

You spluttered, taken aback by his attack on your virtue. “I hardly know what you mean.”

“I think you do,” Joel brought the horse to a stop, jumping off before reaching out a hand to help you down. “Pretty thing like you in that fancy dress, roughin’ it with three strangers out in th’middle of nowhere.” Joel didn’t wait for you to reach for his hand; instead, he placed his palm on your waist and maneuvered your leg over the side of the horse to let you jump off. “I know you like those card games El taught you. I think you like the idea of letting yourself get a li’l corrupted.” Joel’s eyes were like molasses under the sun, and you averted your gaze, watching his lips move when he spoke instead of trying to make eye contact. The choice only made it worse, pink lips forming his words so precisely that you could practically see his accent. “Where do you think the money came from, sweetheart?”

“I…I can tell you where I hope you got it from…” You felt relief when your feet hit the ground. Joel’s hand didn’t leave your waist, and you looked up at him, realizing that this was the first time you’d seen him smile—all it took was a few insults at his expense, and his own analysis of you.

“Where’s‘at?”

“A bank.”

“Then that’s where it came from.” He abruptly removed his hand from your waist, and you expected to see a bright red print when you looked down at the spot he had been holding; instead, all you saw was the same blue of your dress, a warm, damp feeling on your hip where you could still feel the excess heat from Joel’s skin. “C’mon. We’re walkin’ the rest of the way.”

You followed him, feeling a bit pathetic at the way you ran to match his stride before he could leave you in the dust.

“But that isn’t where it came from, is it?” You pushed, not done riling yourself up, kicking dirt up on the trail as you walked.

“Why’re you so worried ‘bout where it came from?” Joel stuffed more tobacco in his lip without breaking step.

“I’m—it isn’t worry.” And it wasn’t, to an extent: really, you were just curious to unravel the mystery that the Millers had so plainly laid out for you. That, and with the new knowledge that he had a gun strapped to his hip, something gnawed at you to know any shred of truth you could get out of him. “I’m just curious.”

“I couldn’t tell.” Joel didn’t look at you, but he slowed his pace, putting his hands on his hips. “All money comes from banks, darlin’.”

At that, you dropped the subject, understanding that at the present moment you’d get nothing else out of him. “Why do you call me that?”

“Mm?” Joel’s speed increased again.

“You call me darling. But you don’t call El that.”

“Mm.” Joel mumbled again, in assent this time.

“Do you call my aunt that?”

Joel guffawed, “No—Tess’d serve my head on a platter.”

“So why me?”

“Suits you.” Joel looked down at you, and you avoided his gaze, leaving you unable to see the sudden consternation in his face. “Why? Y’don’t like it?”

“I—no, I didn’t say that…”

You rounded a bend, and the house came into view in the distance; it was old. Worn down, but not nearly as much as the old shack the Millers and El called home. It looked sturdy, at least—like it could sustain life, if someone was there to give it a little love. The thought made you think of Joel, and you didn’t know why.

Maybe you did. Just a little.

You were about to ask more questions, try to get more information out of Joel, when he smacked a hand on your stomach, landing with a thud that made you grab at his wrist to steady yourself.

“Joel—!”

“Quiet.” He looked stern, a far cry from the grins and giggles he had shared with you, however hesitantly, on the journey. You followed his line of sight, narrowing your eyes against the glare of the sun, and you could make out three men and their horses.

“Joel…?” You whispered now, hand still grasping at his wrist.

“Get down.” You did as you were told, following Joel’s lead and flattening yourself against the sand and pebbles beneath you. The earth was cold, like it had just rained, and you could hear Joel breathing beside you, his arm coming to rest over your back, shielding you. From what? You were unsure. You tried to crane your neck to see what the men were doing—get a glimpse of the people who surrounded your would-be home, who were clearly making Joel antsy—but the weeds were too tall, and the men were too far away. You could hear small crashes every now and then, ground crunching under boots and hooves, unable to make out any conversation. Joel’s hand was heavy on your back, and you could feel his calloused fingers gently brushing against the fabric of your dress. Whether it was subconscious on his part or not, you couldn’t complain; it felt soothing in the midst of whatever you had stumbled into.

You don’t know how long you lay in the dirt before you heard a whistle, and the sound of horses running too close to you for comfort.

When you peaked your head up again, Joel quickly moved his hand up your back and clapped it on the back of your neck, bringing you down to his level, close enough to see the sweat dripping from his temples. “You stay right here.” He didn’t give you any time to respond with so much as a nod before he was lifting himself off of the ground and grabbing the pistol from his hip, walking slowly toward the house; gun drawn, head down, steps silent. You counted the seconds until you were given a sign that you, too, could remove yourself from the ground.

“S’alright,” Joel called over his shoulder to you, “c’mon down here.”

You caught up to him, wiping what you could of the dirt off of your dress and stretching your limbs after lying idly for so long.

“Can I please have an explanation,” you stomped as you approached him, “as to what that was about?”

“Later,” Joel muttered, “Get inside.”

You meandered towards the entrance to the house, the small wooden door looked as though it might fall off its hinges if you pushed too hard, so you tried to open it with grace despite your frustration. Leaning against the frame, your head fell, neck stiff from your attempts to follow the action from your spot in the weeds, and you spotted a piece of paper in the grass.

You bent down, grabbing the torn paper and dusting it off as best you could. Your heartbeat picked up, and the hot air made you feel suddenly thirsty and dazed. The muscles in your knees tightened.

“What’cha got, darlin’?” Joel made his way to the door, ready to get out of the sun.

You pushed the paper into him, and you’re sure you must have looked an ugly combination of hurt and outrage, glaring at him when you pressed it between his ribs. If he was worried, his face hardly gave it away; the cold look he always wore marred only by a bit of mud and furrowed brows as he delicately slipped the paper from your hands and brought it up to his face.

WANTED:

JOEL and THOMAS MILLER

DEAD or ALIVE

NOTORIOUS ROBBERS of BANKS and TRAINS

$5,000.00 REWARD

CONTACT SHERIFF and RAILWAY AGENCY

Joel smiled at the poster in his hands, tracing the sketches of himself and his brother with his eyes, then moving his gaze down to you. You continued to glare, now feeling unafraid to look him dead in the eye despite what you had just learned.

“Told you, it all comes from a bank.” Joel sounded almost sheepish, but you couldn’t tell if it was because he now knew someone was looking for him, or if it was because of how quickly the ad had turned you against him.

You turned on your heel, and slammed the door in his face, not caring if the hinges broke and the wood splintered out at him.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us smut #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou smut

[undermine-the-instinct]

Crush or Chance?

● Bard!reader masterlist ● Next part.... ●Warnings: None ● Wc: 5.9K

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times and shame on the both of us. So what be said for a fourth time?

(Or in other words, Kaveh met you long before you knew him.)

If he's being a little honest, Kaveh has a bit of a crush on you. 

Or maybe it's something more like a bittersweet admiration, the same way you'd look at phoenix and think, this will end in flames.

The more he worked, the more clients he contracted the more dissatisfied he became. Functionality over art, structure over beauty, efficiency over soul. He felt like life was being drained out of him. And after a while, he started thinking; Why should I? What was the point? However great he was in the eyes of others, no matter what praises they heap onto him, he is but one person. What could he do on his own?

And how arrogant of him to hope to even try! What has he ever truly done? Even his Magnum opus; A palace that doesn't even belong to him and has buried him in a lifelong debt. He was never really ever going to amount to much.

 It was during one of these depressing bouts of his that he met you.

Bars are cesspools, collecting tears and drunken spurs, but also joy. Like his polar opposite you lit up the room, and he couldn't help but feel drawn. Your voice resounded throughout the space, and it stirred something deep in his heart. He felt like he had just found the answer to a puzzle he was grilling over for so long, and seemingly, for no reason at all. He was alive! He was in a bar! Shouldn't he be joining in on the merry?

And so he danced the night away. He sang and greeted old friends and he paid for all his drinks that night. It wasn't until the place was closing that he thought about the bard that stirred his heart and feet into action. But by then you were long gone. If it's meant to be I'll find them again, he thought, and began the trek home.

He didn’t get to meet you that night. He found you again though another day, dancing in the center of a crowd that had surrounded you. There was a man playing a fiddle, while another played on a flute. You were barefoot, a scarf around your waist trailing behind you in a ribbon of silk, a smile on your face. You weren't afraid to get too close to the crowd, you snapped fingers and captured a delighted stranger in your scarf, taking a child by the hand and twirling them around and around.

Mentioning art is the quickest way to end a conversation, is something that is generally known in Sumeru. But there was no conversation to be had here, there was only music and laughter, for the simple joy of being able to move. He felt like a bystander watching a moving painting.

Shouts sounded behind him, and as one the crowd turned back to see. Matra were approaching with scowls, a collective thunderstorm to usher the people on and disperse the crowd.

“Hey! You folks! You're under arrest for public misconduct and unsanctioned musical performance!”

“Uh, no we’re not!” with a last bow to the crowd, and a trilling sound from the flutist, you and your companions ran in opposite directions, gone like magpies in the wind. One second you're there and then you're gone. 

Kaveh wants to know what your name is. Who are you? 

“Oh, that pest? Just some runt from all the way in Monstadt,” a client frowns, deep and fissured.

“One of those traveling sorts, so let's hope that they pack up and get moving soon.”

“Have they been especially troublesome?” He scoffs at this and looks at Kaveh with wide disbelieving eyes.

“‘Especially trouble?’ Like you wouldn’t believe! You and I both know how the Akademiya hates those artsy types, and then this person shows up and decides to make a whole mockery of that. And for what? Out of spite? How childish.”

“I might have seen them around actually, at a few bars I've visited with some colleagues,” Kaveh supplies, refilling the man’s drink.

“They didn’t look like the sort to cause much trouble.” He’s a liar. As a matter of fact, that smile you wore back then spoke nothing but mystique and mischief. 

“Those Monstadt types always like to cause trouble. They had one revolution and think themselves all martyrs and rebels. Trust me, I’m older than you and I know. Remember that one girl who graduated from the Akademiya in two years? I even offered to sponsor that girl and look where she is now; working as a librarian in that grass field of all places,” he scowled.

“What a waste of talent. I’ve had enough of them, so let's hope this one hops over to Fontaine or something, they'd be welcomed over there I bet. Now, didn't we come here for something? The plans for my building, you got them?”

“Of course sir, right here…” This isn't the first time he's heard something like this, especially amongst his oldest clients. It's a shared sentiment, and it feels like something bitter and vindictive. He knocks back his own glass.

Kaveh doesn't know who you are, but he wonders; if you ever went to Fontaine, would his mother like you?

The next time he sees you is in a public garden. And he's late, he was supposed to be at a meeting with another client at least forty five minutes ago, but rushing along, the way you were just standing there caught his eye.

He can hardly see you above all the rolled blueprints and stuffed folders he's carrying, he forgot his bag and it was too late to go back and get it, but he could tilt his head back and get a clearer look at your form in the grass.

Standing in the shade and dappled sunlight of a great tree, barefoot and…posing. He followed your gaze to a book you had lying open in the grass, and saw a few poses and stands he half recognized, all hand drawn with notes in the margins.

You paid no mind to the odd looks or stares you were getting, the way that people gave you a wide berth of space, how some shook their heads and scurried their children on, the way that others would stop and stare before shaking themselves out of their reverie. Kaveh wasn’t part of either group, but he was still…watching you.

He must have been more obvious than most because you lifted your head just as you were stretching, tilting your head in question like a bird, an automatic smile on your face. Quizzical but warm. He tilted his head back at you, like the idiot he was, and your smile broke out wider. 

“Good morning to you too, stranger! What are you up to this fine morning?”

Him? You were speaking with him? He lifted up the filled blueprints he had in his arms, obscuring his face more. “Off to work. And, um, how about you?”

“Stretching! Or at least, pretending to.” You twirled a bit into your next position, so that you had your back to him now.

“You're not doing a very good job pretending.”

“Oh? Am I being too obvious?” There was mirth in your voice, amusement.

“You're doing an arabesque in a demi-plie, I think it's obvious.” You stumbled a little and whirled so fast to look at him that he wondered for a second if you could get whiplash. He was holding too many blueprints he could imagine it was hard to see anything other than his bob of his hair and his brows.

“...You know what an Arabesque is?” He shrugged carefully.

”My mother lives in Fontaine, and they are fond of performances there. I know a few terms.” He saw your expression fall a bit through the peeps of his papers, but you brightened up before he could say anything more.

“That's still more than most people I've talked to. What else do you know?”

Kaveh could see you, eager and open to a stranger like himself. He recalled the way the crowd clapped along with you when you were dancing in the street. The way you sang, loud and unabashed, like a thunderbird whose only job it was was to wake the world, to a prophecy now foretold. But he couldn’t tell the future, and he thought neither could you.

How naively brazen you are. How unapologetically bold. How lovely.

“...Aren't you afraid?”

“What?” Your face shuttered off into confusion but he went on.

“Sumeru isn't the most ideal place for musicians and artists. I’m sure you've felt the general attitude and atmosphere, so, what are you doing? Aren't you scared of the repercussions?”

“Repercussions?”

“The sages have the matra set on you. That's not a rumor-it's fact. Aren't you scared of what else they could do to you?’’

“Well yeah, of course I am? But what else am I supposed to do, change the way I live?” His eyes widen, while you scoff, kicking up your feet.

“I’ve said it before and I'll say it again, they’re frightened of us.”

“Frightened? Frightened of what?” What could the sages, the governing force and face of Sumeru, have to fear from the populace?

“Frightened of what we can do? What has humanity done when pushed against the corner, or forced inside the cave? What have we done when the night falls and the rain pours?” You spread out your arms and tilt your head towards the sky.

“We sing! We gather together to tell stories over our work, we dance around the fire, we paint the tales of our passages onto the cavern walls, all things we have done before the written word. Even then, when we learned to write and record our stories, we created fables and tall tales to tell one another.”

“After humans discovered how to read and write, civilization did start to advance, at a before unprecedented rate.,” He admits.

“Art is what pushed civilizations to prosperity. It continues to.  The only reason The Akademiya doesn't acknowledge this is because they don't see nor recognize everything as a form of art.”

“Isn’t that a bit naive though?” He shuffles the load in his arms.

“That sounds like romanticism to me.”

“It is. And what's wrong with that?” You shrug.

"Tell me, who embroiders those elegant robes they all wear? Who tills and plants their outdoor gardens? Who builds their offices and homes and buildings? Who cooks their food or carves their furniture? Art is intrinsic to humanity. It is inevitable, irrefutable. Are they trying to deny that?" You scowled.

"Do they not find these things lovely, and necessary? Do they think themselves above the divine craft of creation? Do theyhink themselves as Gods?" You scowled harder, but then sighed, letting your breath out in a single push.

"Hm. But, that's not the question you asked me, right?"

“....No.” Then you thought, tilted your head up to the sky and huffed out a laugh.

“Well, actually, yes I am. But what else can I do, change the way I live?...No. I’m going to continue as I've always have, and if that’s something that makes me a target, then that’s just what comes with the territory of being a star.” You grinned, bright.

“....There are rumors that the Akademyia will deploy the General Mahamatra to subdue you if you make any sort of big fuss.”

“Well, what kind of star doesn't have a scandal or two under their belt?” You grinned again, but wobbly at the corners, and take a good look at all the papers he's carrying.

‘I…hope I'm not keeping you up? You seemed to be in a bit of a hurry before–” He gasped, cutting you off.

"Oh Archons, yes! Damn it, I'm going to be so late!!” He got completely sidetracked!! He gave you a nod that he hoped you saw and ran off to his appointment. Hopefully the client was still there.

Life is art, and art is intrinsic to life, basically, right? If that's the way someone like you sees the world, maybe he can adopt that mindset.

And hopefully he'd find you again, and greet you properly this time, no matter what rumors you were embroiled in. He’ll leave it up to fate this time as well.  it's already led him to you twice before.

You're so pretty. Kaveh has a bit of a crush on you already.

He woke up to a dark familiar room, and a dull throbbing in his head.

This was familiar, and normal. He wasn't kidnapped, or anything. He must have gone drinking again, and stumbled his way back home. The question was how he got inside. He’s pretty sure that he lost his keys several days ago and hasn't yet found the time to go get a new pair made. So the question stands…

Actually, the question can wait. His mouth feels like it's full of dust and cotton, and he needs water. That's his first priority.

His feet are bare and the floor cool as he pads his way over to the kitchen, trying to rub the heaviness out of his eyes. 

When he reaches the kitchen he stops, and rubs at them again because what are you doing sitting at the kitchen island talking to his jerk of a roommate?

“Oh, you're up.” You stand and walk over to him, reaching out like he needs steadying.

“What are you doing here?”

“We went out drinking and I carried you home, remember?”

“Oh, I remember of course, I wasn't talking to you though dear, I was talking to the man standing there like a mother ready to catch her kid sneaking back inside.”

“Because that's exactly what you did.” The bastard had a steaming cup up to his face, not even bothering to look at him. “How did you get in without your keys?”

“We used the key under the mat. I lost my keys, so how else?”

“I had taken the key and hidden it somewhere else.”

“What? Why would you hide the key?!”

“Because then you'd lose that one too, obviously.”

“Tch. Wait, then how did…” You laugh and shuffle a little, culprit.

“Yeah, sorry, this is my fault. I really wanted to get Kaveh into his bed so I kinda…picked the lock? It’s not broken or anything but still…” You lower your head in apology.

“I wasn’t willing to be patient, I’m sorry.”

“Yes, I'm sure you were in a hurry.” Al haitham sighs in reply and Kaveh bristles.

“What was that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. What do you think I meant?”

“I think you know exactly what you were insinuating.”

“Then why don't you spell it out for me?” He finally looked at him, tri-colored eyes gleaming oddly in the light. He looked…Apprehensive? No, that was just irritation, as usual.

Kaveh clicks his tongue in annoyance and turns back to you.

“See? What did I tell you about this guy? You don't need to apologize to this jerk, alright? You’re perfectly fine.”

“Oh? Talking behind my back now are you.”

Kaveh scoffs, heat curling in his chest. Or maybe just the leftover alcohol.  “It's nothing you wouldn't outright say yourself, so no need to ponder what I’ve said directly. I only spoke the truth, which is even sadder if you ask me.”

“Okay, stop it, that's enough,” You step between the two of them, frowning.

“There is no need for this petty back and forth. It’s late and we should all be in bed already. In fact,” You turn to him, “You were sleeping when I left you, do you need something?”

“...Were you two talking?”

“Just…greeting each other. He came in not too long after we did.”

Another cup sits on the table, softly steaming and obviously yours. It hasn't been long, but you’ve been here for more than a few minutes at least.

You scratch the back of your head with a sheepish grin. “Maybe I should have waited, then I wouldn’t have needed to break in.”

“No harm no foul.” Kaveh’s mouth gapes open when Alhaitham waves you off.

“‘No harm no foul?’ Have you lost your mind?! Are you sick?!”

“I'm perfectly fine you fool,” He sighs through his nose.

“I just expect as much behavior from any of your companions. Nothing was harmed in the end so its fine, I’ll just have the locks changed tomorrow.” He drinks from the cup, and looks up at him.

“I hope you know I’m not paying for your own set of keys.”

“What?! Why not–”

“Kaveh,” You interject. “Are you alright? You were dead asleep when I set you down.”

He groans, rubbing his forehead.

“About that, Thanks for carrying me all the way back here. I was the one who invited you out but you ended up taking care of me.”

“Well, you let me pick the place so I guess it's even between us. Did you get thirsty or something?”

He nods. “Then go lay back down, I'll bring it to you.”

“What? I can't have you serve me under my roof.”

Alhaitham snorts. “‘Your roof?’ Technically its–”

“Ah ah ah!” You cut him off with a raise of your voice and a sharp look, Kaveh grins from behind your shoulder. Alhaitham’s eyes widen by your audacity, and by the archons are you lovely. You turn back to him.

“It's fine. You're the one who needs to rest so let me help you out. Go lay down.”

“Well. if you insist.” He turns and starts the trek back to the room, and the house is quiet enough that he can hear your lowered voices as he walks off. He can't help but feel that you sent him away so that you could say something, or finish talking with Alhaitham. But why would you?

He has a hand on the knob, shutting his door when the thought strikes him, Why is Alhaitham even up at this hour? Sure, sometimes he'd get back late from his scribe duties or whatever, but that was rare. And it's not like he went drinking out late that often (as if he had people to go with him).

And beyond that, why was he talking with you? Of course you were amazing and charming in your own right but people like the both of you don't mesh very well, and with your reputation, it was best to avoid him. As The Scribe, he was technically a Matra, after all.

Oh fuck he’s a matra.

He's just about to go swing the door open to dash to your rescue when it swings open of its own accord, and there you were with a glass of water, wide eyed to see him there.

He grabs your shoulders and tries to turn you to steer you back, but damn it you’re strong. You don’t budge.

“Uh, buddy? Are you alright? What's going on?”

“You have to get out of here, like right now.”

“What, why? Can we calm down for a second?” 

“Nonono, you can’t, you have to go now–” He tries to grab you and pick you up around the waist, but you spin around behind him, grab him by his collar and drag him inside the room.

“I’m being serious!” You shut the door, a laugh under your breath.

“I’m sure you are, so explain yourself first.”

“My roommate, he’s the Grand Scribe.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So he’s technically a Matra. And I wouldn’t put it behind him to do something so you need to… like, go, before he reports you or something! One word and the matra would come swarming in here like flies to honey.”

“But he won’t.”

“Darling listen–”

“But he won’t. Not only have I already done my community service, paid my fines, did my time and stayed out of trouble, he actually wanted to thank me.”

What? “Thank you for what?”

“For getting you inside quietly. He just came back from work he said, and didn’t want to deal with any of your drunken shenanigans. So he said it's alright that I picked the lock.”

“He told you it's alright?”

“Yeah, as long as I use the extra key next time.”

“What?!” He threw his hands up in the air.

“He told you where the secret key is?”

“Yep. And he said that he's gonna give me a copy of the new one.” You pop the ‘p’.

“And sorry, the stipulation that I can use it is that I’m not allowed to let you know where it is.” He sucks his teeth and they laugh, reaching out to tug the sleeve of his shirt.

“Sorry love. But come now, take off those scarves so you can lay down, alright? It's late.” And something goes warm and gooey when you use that soft tone of voice, so Kaveh does exactly that, and takes the glass from you with a grateful look when you hand it to him.

“Does your head hurt?” 

“Just a little. Not as bad as it usually does.”

“See? That's why you drink water before you pregame.”

“Well now I know for the next time.” He takes a big gulp and hands the rest of the glass to you, waving it away when you try to put it back in his hands.

“Oh, fine.” You finish it yourself then, and Kaveh falls back into the sheets, heavy lidded once more.

“How come you’re not drunk or stumbling, hm? It’s not fair.”

“Oh, I am drunk,” you giggle, “I just know how to hide it really well.”

“It's not fair.”

“That’s because I'm from Monstadt dear, my blood has at least a 10% alcohol content.” Kaveh sighs and covers his eyes, drinking in the quiet. You’re sitting next to him, humming softly under your breath, a brush away from fully singing.

“Hey, why do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Call me those pet names. Like honey or dear or love. Why do you do that?” He looks and catches the tail end of your shrug.

“Because you're my friend. You’re like, the only real friend I've made in this entire damn nation, so I gotta be a little sweet with you, yeah?"

“Sweet with me?” He turns so he's facing you.

“Yeah! You make syrup with honey and not salt, right?” You smile, gold flashing at your throat in the low lamp light.

This close he can see the warm flush that the alcohol has given you, the way you give your smiles even more easily than you normally do, eyes soft and direct.

If he’s being a little honest, Kaveh has a bit of a crush on you. There's no other way to put it. He's so excited to see you, whenever he can, whenever you can, and he wants to see you now more than ever. He wishes you didn’t have to hide so often because he wants to be seen out in public with you, not sneaking like teenagers to some seedy bar, where people are too drunk or too downtrodden to care who comes in.

You…like those kinds of places though, odd as you are. You order a drink, and as soon as you down it you're tuning up an instrument and springing into song. By the third song the whole bar or tavern is joining in, and tears are replaced with smiles, at least for that night.

“Will you stay the night?”

You laugh, again. “And where would I sleep, silly?”  

“Right here. Right next to me.”

“Oh, I could never.”

“But you could.”

“I could. But I won't.” You move to get off the bed and Kaveh shoots up, grabbing onto your sleeve.

“Then you can have the bed. Just, stay here. For now. Until morning.”

You chew the inside of your cheek, and his heart while you're at it, while he waits for your answer. Maybe it's because of the way he implores you, or this quiet moment of the night, but you sigh and he knows you’ve given in.

“The bed is big enough for the both of us. Scoot over.” He does as he's told and hopes his face isn't giving his excitement away. He slides under the covers while you slip off your outer layers, and soon enough he can feel you slither beneath the sheets next to him.

“You want to keep the lamp on?”

“No, turn it off.”

“Alright.” The room floods in darkness, and you settle back down.

He’s had a couple sleepovers before. Although, the majority of these were before his father’s…incident, while he was still a very young boy. The others were during his Akademiya days, and were most often just him and his colleagues passing out after days of working on a project non-stop.

So this was new. He’s perfectly aware of his and your bodies; every shift, every position, the way your breathing sounds. He wonders how he’s gonna fall asleep like this.

“Kaveh?”

“Yes?”

“Are you up?”

“Yeah. How else could I answer you?”

“Oh, yeah, sorry,” You giggle. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You just did love.”

“Another question, silly.”

“Of course.” You wriggle a bit till you're laying on your stomach, face towards him.

“Why didn't you come to the anniversary performance? The one with me and Miss Nilou?” He winces, and turns to face you too.

“I’m sorry.”

“Why didn’t you come?”

“Would you believe me if I said it was work?” He sighs.

“Really. I had to meet some bigshot client and I tried but I couldn’t reschedule.

“I really wanted to go.”

“...Yeah, I wanted you to go too.” The guilt twists and churns inside him, and he sits up in bed.

“I'm sorry, truly. Tell me when the next one is and I'll be there, I promise. I’ll even miss an appointment if I have to.”

The silence reigns heavy, you don't speak. He's about to repeat his words, swear on them, when you answer him. 

“Cyno came and interrogated Zubayr and his son. He then had the members takes a few days leave of absence so that he could interrogate us each. So, Zubayr decided that I shouldn't have any more performances, for the time being. The whole thing with Cyno put the theater on blast, so no more future performances.” Your voice is somber and dull, like a worn knife, disappointment sour.

“And no more public performances either, huh?” 

“Not for a while. Cyno is keeping a closer eye out on me. The only reason I could go out with you today was because he had to go out on an excursion, and I know how to avoid the lower Matra.’ You sigh and roll over onto your back.

“So maybe its better if you didn’t come. You would have been targeted too if you were seen with me.”

“...Well, you might not be able to perform publicly, but The Akademiya has no say in what goes on in private property.”

“So?”

“If you…ever want to sing or dance or anything really, you can come find me. This place was given to Alhaitham and I to be refurbished as living quarters, or you can even find me at the Architects Guild, since that building isn’t government owned.”

“Kaveh,” and now it's your turn to sit up. “I can’t put you in danger like that.”

“I won't be in danger.”

“You know, better than I probably do, that the Akademiya don't like outliers. I’m an outlier. If they come to know that you’re friends with me, what do you think will happen to you?”

“It’s not like you’ve done anything wrong. Not really.”

“I’ve undermined them and they really don’t like that. It's hard enough for you, the light of the Kshahrewar, to get clients and make ends meet. I don't want to make things any harder.”

“Things are already hard and I'm doing fine enough, so you don't need to worry about me. The worst I’ll have to deal with is a couple of rumors, and those are everywhere in Sumeru.

"If my reputation is as good as people proclaim I can survive a few rumors.. Furthermore,” He cuts you off as you open your mouth to speak.

“I know how hard it is for you to be here. I know you feel like you have something to prove but that doesn't mean I don't want to make things easier for you, even at my own slight expense. You can't change my mind, love, so don’t try.” Silence returns to the room in a wave, while you two stay poised, tense. Kaveh doesn’t know if you can see him in the darkness; he stares into the room until the dark takes over his vision, blinding him until he blinks it back again. 

“I used to be a knight you know,” You speak.” Back home in Monstadt, I was a part of the Knights of Favonius.”

“Oh, wow, that’s amazing.”

“I quit,” You continue without fanfare.

“I started to hate my life, and hate myself. I was young too, and I was in a relationship that was falling apart and my whole life felt like it was ending.” You laugh.

“Goes to show how naive I was then. But I quit, and I left, and I just decided to do the things that made me happy, and went along with my morals. I never wanted to feel so miserable and hopeless ever again. Those feelings still sometimes come back, but what I do then is go to where the people were, and sing, make them smile and laugh.

“I don't have that option in Sumeru. I mean I do but, it's never been a choice I’ve ever been actively punished for, before. I'm going to keep doing it of course. I’ll be damned if I ever let a government silence me, but…

“But it still hurts a little, you know?” He reaches out and drags you closer till you're resting in his arms. You've hugged one another before, but this time he wraps his arms fully around you till your brow rests on his collarbone, his cheek against your hair.

“Well, my offer is open for you anytime, at least. I’m sorry my home hasn’t been exactly welcoming to you.”

“Mhm.”

“It must have been hard for you. I’m sorry.”

“You don't need to apologize,” You breathe, reaching to hold him back.

“You've been perfectly wonderful. I don't know what I would have done without you.”

“Well, we are both fellow artists on the brink of homelessness, so we ought to stick together.”

“If your roommate ever kicks you out you can stay with me. And if I'm ever kicked out we can roam the streets together.” He chuckles, and he's sure you can feel it where you're pressed to him.

“Well, I can play an instrument, so maybe we can be traveling bards. We can go to Fontaine and meet my mother.”

“Oh, that would be a shock, I bet. I met a girl in Liyue once who plays that Fontaine rock music. I could send her back something. Is your mother a nice lady?”

His chest twinges, remembering tears,  heavy silences and dull eyes, The memory of sunshine.

“She's a rather shy woman, and she’s just gotten over some adversary. She's perfectly lovely.”

“What does she look like?"

“Well, I suppose you can look at me and figure it out,” He shrugs. “I've been told I look remarkably like her.”

“Oh, so she's beautiful then.” He starts, and he feels a flush crawl over his face, warm and slow.

“Oh, you sweet talker, you.” You tilt your face up and he's sure you have that sweet smile on your face, that cat's curl.

“I speak only the truth, my dear, I swear it. Anywho, how else am I supposed to keep you by my side, if not with my wily words?”

“Perhaps your fiery temperament? Your musical skill? Your graceful figure? Your sweet kisses?” And you reach up and kiss him, taking the bait.

And yes, you’ve done this before as well, nothing further, but Kaveh’s heart never fails to race. Your mouth is skilled in more than just song, and your tongue is sinfully soft.

You definitely feel the heat of his face when you pull away and rub your cheek against his.

“You’re absolutely precious Kaveh.”

‘Oh, don't patronize me,” He grumbles, and pulls you in even tighter, shoulder to hip aligned, legs entangled. “We have to sleep now. It’s late enough.”

“Why should we?” You flirt. You brush your mouth against his once more and snuggle yourself closer. 

“”I'm afraid your kiss has sent my blood racing. It will be hard enough to go to sleep now.”

“Hm. Well, why don’t you sing then? Maybe something calming, a lullaby your mother would sing to you before bed.”

“Hm…I spoil you too much already.”

“But you'll do it, right?” He chuckles when you bonk your head against his. But you settle down, and it's not long till your voice comes hither, soft and lilting. It's hardly more than a tune under your breath, a hum in your throat, but it is soothing, and soon enough he’s actually asleep.

When he wakes up in the morning, the dull throb lessened but persistent in his head, you are not in his bed, or his home. There's only a single note, a badly drawn winking rabbit, but he smiles and pockets it, getting ready for another day. He’ll run into you again soon enough. And if not, then he’ll simply find you.

There seems to be a commotion a few streets away, from what he could hear. Kaveh sighs, harsh and loud, and pushes himself off the wall that he's been leaning against. He came out for some fresh air, and the promise of some spectacle does not entice him. He starts making the trek back to the Architects guild.

Pounding footsteps slap the ground behind him, and he turns just in time for a figure to dash into him. He barely shakes off his shock before he reaches out to half catch the person, but the weight drags him down and he falls too.

“What the hell…? Archons, are you alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Sorry for being in the way.” And its the way you turn your head to check behind you that gives him a clear look at your face, familIar and shocking. He barely has the sense of mind to reply back, struck like hammer against a molten steel.

He…hadn’t been looking for you, to be honest. It’s been three times already, that you’ve met but never properly seen nor greeted each other, and he had hoped another opportunity would just…come. Fall into his lap, luck be damned. 

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times and shame on the both of us.

So what could be said for a fourth time?

“....the General Mahamatra.”

“The what now?” the General Mahamatra? He heard the rumors, but he never thought that you would prove yourself trouble enough for the sages to deploy him. Against you?

You must have done something reckless, like dancing in the streets again. Or singing in the taverns or just being too you. You were lovely, but sumeru likes its lovely things in glass cases, not prancing in bars or dashing down alleyways.

You speak quickly, and the words just register in his brain before he hears the commotion in the plaza, nearer now, the wince on your face and the way you jolt, ready to flee. He makes a decision.

He grabs at the hand fate and has dealt him, and pulls you further inside the commercial alleyways, knowing exactly where he wants to take you and nothing of what he wants to say to you.

But he can start with this. “ I have heard of you! I’ve been wanting to meet you!” He grins, bright like a star.

“I’m Kaveh. You are?

Taglist

@jjkclub, @jaguarthecat, @swivy123, @seajellyx, @ash-in-lavender, @pepithe3rd, @uchihaeirin .

#my stuff #my writing #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kaveh x bard!reader #cyno x bard!reader #bard!reader #gn reader #kaveh x gender neutral reader #cyno x gender neutral reader #kaveh x reader #cyno x reader #genshin impact kaveh x reader #genshin impact cyno x reader #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin kaveh #genshin cyno #al haitham #genshin al haitham #genshin impact alhaitham

[underfaller]

Chapter 7: ζ (Pt.2)

Pairing: dottore x angel!reader

Summary: You are a Heavenly Messenger from Celestia that’s been captured by a mysterious Doctor

CW: violence

Word count: 3k

You find yourself in a familiar place. You take small, tentative steps forward, looking around with an emotionless gaze. It’s nighttime. The empty streets of Celestia are quiet as usual. You’d usually revel in such silence, but right now, it makes you feel even more wistful and lonely. As you continue walking, you see a familiar person. She’s standing in front of the fountain you two always sat at as children. You know who it is before you even remember her name. You place a hand on her and as she turns around, a lump forms in your throat. 

“R-rider?”  

Rider doesn’t answer you. In fact, she refuses to even look at you. That messy, vermillion hair of hers covers half her face, obscuring her expression. You don’t care though. You embrace her, choking back a sob. 

 “I’ve missed you.”

You step back, giving her a wry smile to ease the awkward silence. 

“Do you even recognize me?”

Your friend still doesn’t answer. It’s then that you suddenly feel upset. 

No, it isn’t sudden. You’ve always been upset, ever since the last night you spent together. Sad that she left, angry that she was so eager to. Or maybe you’ve been upset longer than that. Not just at her, but at Celestia, mortals, the other messengers, and most of all, you. 

But right now, only one of those individuals is in front of you, so you can’t help but direct this pent up despair and frustration at your closest friend. 

“Of course you wouldn’t,” You whisper, gritting your teeth as your fists clench. “Do you even remember me? Or have you found new friends exploring Teyvat? I think about you-- I thought about you-- every day for so long. But you… You’ve probably forgotten all about me.”

You let out a humorless laugh.

“If you hadn’t left, if we’d stayed together, if you’d kept your promise-- perhaps things would’ve gone differently. This is all your fault!”

She stays silent. 

“Say something, gods dammit!” You yell. You feel your anger take over as you grab Rider by the collar of her shirt, shaking her violently. Her head lobs about like a doll before she snaps forward, looking at you and smirking. 

“Well?” You spit. 

Rider opens her mouth, uttering, “My, my. You have quite the fever.”

Your eyes snap open. Dottore’s standing over you, hand on your forehead, that familiar smug expression on his face.  

“Pyrexia after a fracture is often caused by infection, my dear.” 

Instantly, you jerk away from him, the sudden movement sending waves of pain through your broken appendages as you press yourself against the wall. Despite your dreams, you wish you’d stayed asleep. You wince as you let out a hiss of pain. 

“Get away from me.”

Dottore crosses his arms. 

“Hmph. Why do you continue to fight me? Perhaps you don't want my help.” Dottore frowns and shrugs before narrowing his eyes at you. “No matter. I wouldn't help you anyways. You've brought this upon yourself, after all. I'm simply here to observe the effects of your injuries.”

You are well aware that he won’t. This isn’t the first time the Doctor has come to visit you. He simply comes to check if you’re still alive or to mock you like right now. You glare, but it’s a pitiful facade- like an animal's last ditch effort to survive. You’re half delirious from the fever and pain-- perhaps it’s making you bolder. Or maybe you just didn’t care what he did to you anymore. Something inside you snapped when he broke your wings. You truly were defeated. 

But there’s no way in hell you’d let him know. 

“Your delight in my suffering is a bit too evident, Doctor. I'm beginning to think you wanted me to attempt an escape so you could do this.”

Dottore hums with amusement.

“I won't deny it adds a bit of spice to our already interesting dynamic. But no, my dear, I'm simply making use of the situation,” He leans forward, gazing deep into your indignant face. “In fact, I'm a bit disappointed that you would fall for such an obvious trap. Perhaps I overestimated you.”

“Tch.” You scoff. You feel a bit of satisfaction seeing Dottore’s face twitch with annoyance. You know he hates it when you do that. 

“It would have been even more illogical to stay. Even a sliver of chance that I may have to leave you is worth the risk.” 

“Fascinating. You still have some fight left in you despite everything. You’re not as weak-willed as I thought,” The Doctor reaches for your cheek, mockingly caressing it, before lifting your chin sharply with a gloved finger. He gives you a toothy grin. “ But do you really think you can escape me that easily? Did you really think you’d be able to kill a Harbinger? You may pretend, but you certainly are not the strongest individual.” 

Your head pounds. It’s hard to focus on your conversation in this state. Your body is clammy as you feel a chill run through you. How is it possible to be so hot yet so cold at the same time? Still, through your ailments, you glare at Dottore. 

“I'm not stronger than you, no, but you're not perfect... as much as you believe you are...I'll just wait till you actually do slip up.”

It’s at those words that Dottore lets out a roar of laughter.

“Ohoho! Is that so? Then you’ll be waiting an eternity because I do not ‘slip up’.” 

His fingers move from your chin to your neck, tracing your jugular vein. 

“I must say, I do miss the obedient, docile version of you,” Dottore muses. “This rebellious streak is a bit childish, no? Perhaps I should rip out your vocal chords so I don’t have to hear your little, snippy remarks.”

As he says that, his hand wraps around throat. His tight grip cuts your airflow as he presses your head painfully against the wall. Your hand clasps over his, trying to pry his fingers off. 

You’ve never hated this man more than now. You would try to escape a hundred times and more if it meant even a chance of freedom. However, you couldn’t help but feel a twinge of regret for attempting to do so. Part of you wishes you’d never tried and had continued being his good, little assistant. Part of you wishes he wouldn’t be upset with you. Still, your anger outweighs any desire to please this monster.  You cough, choking out a reply. 

“Do what you want.... at least I know you won't kill me. You need me.”

Dottore lets out another laugh. 

“Oh? Do I indeed?” Dottore states. His grip tightens as he leans forward, whispering, “Don’t think too highly of yourself. You may be my favorite test subject in a while, but I certainly don't ‘need’ you. And I certainly don't want mouthy, disobedient subjects. If you were any regular mortal, your corpse would already be floating down the Snezhnaya River.” 

Dottore lets go of you and you fall forward a bit, coughing. Your hand finds its way towards your throat. You grimace as you lightly touch your aching skin. You don’t have to see your neck in the mirror to know it’s already bruising. Dottore’s hand brushes against your right wing, bruised and swollen. A wicked glint flashing across his masked face.  

“As a scientist, I shouldn't be interfering with the subject during such an experiment, however...Sometimes amusement is more important than curiosity when it comes to these things.”

You let out a pained gasp as Dottore suddenly squeezes your wing. You try to move away, but he pushes you back, climbing on the cot. His knee presses into your body as he straddles you in place, giving you no escape from his torment. Dottore continues to dig his hand into your broken wing, feeling precisely where he snapped your radius and presses it. You try not to cry-- you don’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing your tears. You bite the inside of your lip until a metallic taste fills your mouth. 

“What’s that? Aren’t you going to say something? No more retorts?” Dottore chuckles, squeezing your broken wing even harder.

Dottore smiles viciously as he watches you writhe under him. He’s enjoying every moment of this. As the torment goes on, you betray yourself and your face is soon tearstained as you cry and beg him to stop. You regret even speaking at this point. The room is filled with the sounds of Dottore laughing and your own cries. How did he always manage to reduce you to such a pathetic state? 

You can feel your consciousness slipping. With your fever, your delirium, and this pain-- you’ve overexerted yourself. As your eyes close, one last thought passes through your mind.

I wish things would go back to the way they were. 

There’s a loud crash in the lab. Several glass jars shatter on the ground. Dottore has thrown the Khaenri'ahn journal at the wall. 

How long has he been trying to decipher this piece of trash?

You’re taking your anger out on an inanimate object when it’s your own shortcomings at fault. 

“Oh shut up,” Dottore mutters to himself. He sits up, stabbing the scalpel he’s been mindlessly twirling in his fingers into the desk. There’s enough frustration in that stab to keep the blade standing upright in the wood. Dottore huffs as he shuffles over, picking the book from the ground with a long sigh. He looks down at the chemicals blending together at his feet-- those two should definitely not be mixing together. He rolls his eyes, waving his hand.  

“Darling, clean this up for me,” Dottore says, shaking the journal of the spilled contents as he turns towards where you usually are. However, instead of seeing you diligently working on whatever task he’s given you, you of course, are not there.

Oh. 

That’s the last straw. Dottore slams the journal back on the ground, grumbling as he storms towards the cleaning closet in the back of the lab. He rips open the door, sending several pieces of cleaning supplies skittering across the floor. Dottore grabs what he needs, before slamming the door closed again and stomping back to his mess. 

“Must I do everything around here?” He says aloud. 

As Dottore fervently begins cleaning, his mind inevitably lingers back to you. You and that cursed journal-- it’s all he ever thought about these days. Two pains he can’t seem to get rid of. Even if you are the perfect lab rat, he’s beginning to wonder if having someone immortal around is more of a curse than a stroke of luck. 

Although, Dottore has become more accustomed to your presence than he’d like to admit. You are a bit more useful than he expected. He never realized how many mindless tasks he did until he shoved them all on you. With you out of commission, he’s stuck having to do them again. 

Furthermore, the lab is much too quiet without your snide remarks. 

“Tch,” Dottore shakes his head. 

Great, now you have him doing it too. 

It is your own fault. If you hadn’t tried to run away, he wouldn’t have broken your wings…Probably. Not at that moment, for sure. It’s your fault that you are now stuck in just a pitiful state and he’s without an assistant to clean up this mess. 

I swear, I do not have time for these things. When I decipher that asinine journal, I’ll use that knowledge to create a clone or something. Someone who doesn’t run away from me the first chance they get. 

He finishes cleaning, picking up the journal and resuming his work. 

Perhaps it would be easier to just let you translate this…

Dottore draws in a long, frustrated breath. He is a stubborn man--And prideful to boot. He’d never stoop so low as to ask someone from the gods for help. The very thought makes him recoil with disgust. 

However, the only thing Dottore could despise more than asking for help is not knowing something. He sighs and stands up, leaving the lab with the journal in hand. 

Why did it have to be you?

Dottore bursts into your room once again. It’s been a full day since he last saw you, but you still look rather irate at his presence, probably still vexed from his actions yesterday. Why did you have to always hold a grudge? He doesn’t pay heed, instead striding towards you and dropping the journal on your lap.

“You can read this, correct?” Dottore demands. 

You pick it up, flipping through its contents before nodding. 

“I already said I could read this.”

“I need you to translate it then.”

“Wait… does the great Doctor not know something? That’s actually surprising,” You say, before muttering under your breath. “And a please would’ve been nice.”

Cheeky little- 

“I do. But I want you to teach me this language as well,” Dottore responds bluntly.

“Me… teach you?” You raise an eyebrow before pursuing your lips.

“I’m still the smartest man in Teyvat. Which is why it is absolutely embarrassing to admit not knowing something as simple as an ancient dialect like this. So yes, I want you to… educate me.” 

You cock your head, “Isn't it a bit odd to ask your captive to tutor you?”

“Careful…” Dottore hisses, eyes glinting dangerously. “You have a lot of other bones I can snap.”

“Alright, I digress,” You say, giving Dottore a weak smile. You turn your attention towards the journal, flipping through it. As you do, Dottore can see your eyebrows furrowing in thought. At first, he’s afraid you actually can’t read it, but instead you turn towards him, saying, “This is absolutely blasphemy. To create life is a sin to the concept itself.”

Dottore feels relief wash over him, but he doesn’t show it, instead crossing his arms and giving a small laugh. So he was correct-- this journal contains the Art of Khemia. 

“Naturally so. The gods never allow much fun, do they?”

“I'll need another journal to translate this into. But I must say, my use of this language is a bit rusty. It’ll take me a while to refresh myself,” You respond. “Also, you don’t even know if the knowledge in this is accurate. Perhaps don’t get your hopes up?”

“Ah my darling, the thrill of discovery is exhilarating in itself!” Dottore declares. “Now if you’ll excuse me…”

Dottore’s nearly salivating over this knowledge.  He certainly does not care about morals, let alone the gods' wills themselves. In fact, the idea that this is taboo excites him more. Angering the gods? That was something he did by merely existing. You can clearly see his enthusiasm and respond with a look of disdain, however, you do not argue with him. 

You watch him leave before quickly returning with a blank journal, writing utensils, and some medical supplies. Your eyes warily glance at the tools in his hands. He laughs. 

“Oh, my sweet little birdie. Don't be so paranoid! This is for you.” Dottore hands the blank journal and pen to you. 

“And this…” He shakes the medical kit. “...Is to fix you up.”

You narrow your eyes as you skeptically examine him. 

“Tch...why are you helping me now?” You hesitate. 

Why must you always ask so many questions?

“We have a lot of work ahead of us and I need my teacher to stay conscious throughout my lessons,” Dottore explains shortly. He hands you a couple of pills. “Take these.” 

You stare at him. He sighs. Skeptical as always. 

“It’s Acetaminophen. For your fever.” 

You take it. 

As Dottore works on making a splint for your wings, you begin your translations. He peers over your shoulder curiously. The bits you’ve already written fully capture his attention. He couldn’t wait to read it in its entirety. You turn towards him. 

“Yes?” 

“Nothing,” Dottore mutters. He looks down, having completely forgotten about the task at hand. As he continues, you begin to speak.

“Why don’t you have any other assistants?” 

“What?” Dottore looks at you with confusion. “Where did such a question come from?”

“Well, when I tried to escape, I didn’t run into anyone. Now that I think of it, it’s a bit odd, no? Shouldn’t someone of your ranking have a bunch of assistants and guards?”

Dottore waves his hand in dismissal, responding shortly. 

“People find it difficult to work with me.” 

You let out a bitter laugh. 

“That is an understatement, Doctor.”

Dottore glares at you, crossing his arms. 

“Well, I don’t find them very pleasant to work with either,” He scoffs. As Dottore observes your injuries, he makes a humming noise. “I really did a number on you, didn't I?”

You turn a bit. He can see that familiar, annoyed glint in your eye. 

“Admiring your handiwork?”

Dottore laughs humorlessly. 

“Well, what can I say? I put pride in all my work.”

He continues to examine your wings. 

“Hmm... The left bone dislocated. I'll have to move it back into place before I splint it.” Dottore says as he firmly grips your left wing. 

“This may hurt quite a bit.”

You let out a hiss of pain as he quickly shifts the bone in place. You grip the sheets of the bed tightly. He can tell you’re trying very hard not to cry. He would’ve drawn out the process until you did if you weren’t translating that journal. He didn’t want your tear stains on the paper. When he’s finished, Dottore splits your appendages, wrapping a clean bandage around them. As the Doctor stands up, he can’t help but tease you one last time. 

“Poor thing. So much trauma for such a young bird. Good thing I take care of you, right?”

You open your mouth to argue, but quickly close it, deciding it wasn't worth arguing. Instead you simply respond, “Yeah....thanks.” 

Good girl. Perhaps you weren’t such a dismal assistant, after all. 

Dearest Y/N,

Celestia has ceased to give me messages to deliver, so I’ve joined the Forest Watchers in order to acclimate to life in the mortal realm. This is the one time my bow skills have been useful, haha. Despite enjoying it here, my time in Sumeru is coming to an end. I’m traveling to Liyue to aid a friend. Initially, I wanted to travel to Snezhnaya, however, the other Forest Watchers were quite adamant that I avoid that country. Apparently, there is quite a bit of unrest revolving around their politics. 

I’ve learned much and met many people. I’ve made many friends I hold dear in such a short time. However, despite the new faces I meet, my mind always wanders back to yours. I miss you, dearly. I wish you would reply. 

Rider

Past chapters here

#dottore #dottore x fem!reader #dottore x reader #genshin x reader #ao3 #cross posted on ao3 #genshin impact #fic: dead doves do not mourn

[zoeykallus]

Hello my dear, first of all many thanks for everything you write for us. I know the requests are really A LOT and that's why I want to thank you for indulging us!

Aaaaand I actually have a request lmao actually it's just an idea I wanted to share. I was thinking: what if the bad batch (+ Rex, if you feel like it) confess to the reader and she feels the same way but she's kinda scared because she has never been in a relationship? (not only when it comes to intimacy, but regarding her feelings as well)

I don't know if that makes sense or if you have already written something similar (I apologize if you already have).

Again, thank you for your time. Have a nice day! 😙

Aloha! I'm not sure if I got that right, but I'm trying my best 😅

The Bad Batch/Rex x Inexperienced Reader (In every regard) HCs - Untouched Innocence

_________

After your clone confesses his affection to you, you confess to him that you have never been in a relationship before, everything related to it is new territory for you. Here's how he reacts.

_________

Tech

"I'm afraid I don't quite understand"

Tech looks at you innocently, questioning. The fact that he just confessed his feelings for you still makes his pulse race. He is excited and a bit beside himself.

"I've never felt this way about anyone before," you say carefully, "I don't have any experience with it, in any way."

His cheeks blush a little and he smiles shyly.

"Oh. But you have feelings for me?"

Your nod, makes his heart beat faster once again.

"Well, that makes two of us," he finally admits.

Tech is a very logical, but also gentle mind. He has no problem whatsoever with taking things very slowly and step by step. He has butterflies in his stomach and all he wants is for you to feel comfortable with him. So you can count on him to accommodate you in every way.

"I'm looking forward to exploring this new territory with you".

Hunter

"Oh, I see," Hunter says slowly.

After a moment of silence, he asks, "And you're afraid I'll want to jump right in? Or that it would bother me that you want to take things slow?"

You admit, "Honestly, yes."

Hunter smiles softly and gently strokes your cheek with his knuckles.

"Mesh'la, don't worry, I want you to feel safe and secure with me, I would never force anything or push you."

"Really?" you ask, looking up at him, hopefully.

Hunter nods and says solemnly, "You have my word, Mesh'la. One step at a time, you set the pace"

Relief floods through you as you are truly drawn to him, and you are incredibly glad that he is so understanding.

You smile and say, "Sometimes I look at you and I can't believe you're real".

Hunter laughs softly, "Want me to pinch you just to show you that I really exist?"

He pinches you, but in the arm, but gently and grins at you.

"What does it look like now? Am I real now?"

With a giggle, you say, "That was meant metaphorically."

"I know," he says with a grin, "I was just having a little fun with you."

Wrecker

He shrugs his massive shoulders and says with a smirk, "I have no experience either. I've never found anyone as great, and gorgeous as you".

You feel heat rising in your cheeks. Wrecker, the gentle giant, is a true gem. He gently lifts your chin with one finger and says, "Well, I think this is wonderful, we can explore this new territory together."

He takes his hand back down and beams at you.

"Only if you want to, of course"

Shyly, you smile back, "I would love to".

You flinch briefly in shock as he lets out a squeal of delight, but then you laugh heartily. Wrecker is so lively and full of infectious joie de vivre. It's almost impossible not to feel alive and energized in his presence.

Softly, he asks you a moment later, "Maybe tonight we'll go to the fair that's in town?"

"Sounds like fun," you say with a nod.

Wrecker says eagerly, "That will be fun, I'm sure. Don't worry, I'll take care of you, you're always safe with me."

Echo

Echo laughs nervously and says somewhat shyly, "Well, I'm not completely inexperienced myself, but as far as real feelings go, this is also new territory for me."

You're glad he's so open with you.

"I just wanted you to know that I don't really know what's next. I mean, theoretically, of course I do," you say, a little uncertainly, stepping from one foot to the other.

Echo smiles and gently grabs your upper arms.

"Relax, my dear, we don't have to rush into anything. We'll take our time, you can set the pace if you feel more comfortable with it"

With a relieved sigh, you hug him stormily and Echo wraps his arms around you after a brief, somewhat startled hesitation.

"Are you okay, Mesh'la?"

You snuggle up to him and say dreamily, "Everything's wonderful."

Echo laughs softly, also relieved, and says, "Very good, my beautiful."

Crosshair

He looks at you thoughtfully for a long moment, which makes you feel a little unsettled.

But finally he says calmly, "Thank you for being so honest with me.

Still a little unsure, you look up at him.

"Why wouldn't I be?"

Crosshair replies, "You'd be surprised how many people would lie about something like that."

After a moment of uncertain silence, he says, "Well, I guess I should be honest too."

"That would be great," you say with a small, shy smile.

You know Crosshair is a rather closed person and rarely opens up, but with you, he wants to be as open as he can.

He sighs softly before saying, "I've had experiences of an intimate nature, and for a while I thought the rush of it was something like affection or love. Since I've known you, however, I know that there's more to it than that, and that this feeling can go much deeper even without physical contact."

You look at him in amazement, you didn't really expect that. You feel flattered, honored almost.

You don't know if you should say something.

Quietly you say, "Thank you, it means a lot to me that you are so honest".

He nods with a small smirk and says, "Don't worry, Kitten, this feeling you're giving me is well worth approaching with patience and sensitivity."

Rex

He smiles, and your world becomes all soft and shimmery, as it always does when he looks at you like that. Rex is a gorgeous man, strong, with integrity and yet gentle at the right moments. Full of verve and yet very thoughtful. You adore him.

You can understand why his men trust him and look up to him.

"And you're worried because you have no experience?" he asks quietly.

You nod and say softly, "Sort of."

He gently puts a strong hand on your shoulder and says, "You don't have to. We can take our time and explore together what you're comfortable with and where it all takes us"

"You're a wonderful man," you say dreamily.

He laughs softly, you see his cheeks flush, and he scratches the back of his head nervously. He is a warrior, a strong, good soldier, and yet also a level-headed, gentle man. How could anyone not admire him?

"You really think so?" he finally asks.

"Yes, definitely."

With a smile, he says, "I look forward to seeing where we will go together"

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaws

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@taskfork-archive

@cpnt616

@starwarsnerd111

#hc #star wars headcanons #headcanon #tbb headcanons #hunter #wrecker #echo #crosshair #tech #tbb #tbb fanfiction #crosshair tbb #echo tbb #hunter tbb #star wars tbb #sw tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x reader #tbb echo #tbb hunter #tbb hunter x reader #tbb tech #tbb tech x reader #tbb wrecker #tbb x reader #wrecker tbb #bad batch #the bad batch #clone force 99 #tech tbb

[child-of-the-danube]

So this is truly it, huh? Just like that, no more Doom Patrol?

I don't think I can completely explain how I feel about the show as a whole and how much it means to me, but this final episode just left me empty for both good and bad reasons.

WARNING!!! SPOILERS INCOMING!! DO NOT READ FURTHER IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE EPISODE YET!

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The whole Immortus/Butts resolution felt like such a cop-out. Immortus just going "Nah, you know what, I'm fine. Here's your longevity. Oh, and I'm besties with the Butts now. Too-da-loo 🥰" after being presented as their biggest threat ever? Meh

It would have been more cathartic had they somehow defeated Immortus when she was occupied with the Butts and got the longevity thingy off her neck to then run home only to find Rita already dead with Laura frozen with shock/grief beside her. To have them think they managed one more victory but with their biggest loss yet. And for Rita and Laura, the moments before she died could have been used to have a proper conversation and resolution between them. I would have loved if the final scene between them (and with alive non-ghost Rita in general) would have been Laura bringing her the Immortus nail just for Rita to decline cause she's at peace with dying. Even a simple "You're forgiven" would have been enough. And what was the point of telling Laura she's part of the Doom Patrol now to go "Yeah, you should all go your own way now" five minutes after she kicked the bucket???

Vic's ending was expected. It was obvious from the start that he would make it. And I'm glad cause he deserves happiness and to build a future that HE feels is right for him finally.

I'm also delighted Jane (a.k.a just K now) got her happiness both within herself and with Casey. And she's the only one we saw on screen saying goodbye to at least one person properly. Her and Cliff's realtionship was one of my absolute favourite things about the show.

Seems I managed to guess Larry's ending almost exactly. It was so sweet and beautiful. He didn't just return to space with Keeg but Rama as well. Can't lie, I've shed some tears during that scene. And his moment with ghost Rita... 12/10 wouldn't change anything about it

Cliff's ending is my favourite and the one that got me bawling my eyes out. "It's ok. I made it home" Uhm, excuse me?????? How dare the writers break my heart like that???? I am unwell and will need 5-7 business days to recover from it. Poetic, beautiful, amazing, showstopping etc. I love Cliff so fucking much

Dorothy who? Guess she just fell off the Earth after Immortimas

Also, Shelley? Never heard of her. Try looking in the woods when it gets foggy maybe 🤷

I guessed Rita would definitely die too but her whole "Each of you will be better off on your own" turnaround just didn't sit right with me. She's the one that spent her life keeping this little, broken, miserable bunch of just the unluckies motherfuckers known to the world together and managed to create a family that loves and supports eachother to death and THIS is her conclusion?? That they should just disband? Nope, not buying it. I guess it's somehow a way of telling that now the one that held them together, the heart of the show if you will, is gone that it's all done but I feel like that's a an insult to the rest of them and to the strength of their bond. Yes, Rita's insistence brought them together at first, but they've grown and gotten close so much since then even without her interfering in their one-on-one relationships. It just doesn't feel right. I also knew we'd get a Malcolm reunion scene but am I the only one that doesn't really care about him? Tbh, we didn't get to know much about him beside the fact that he was Rita's lover that tragically died. I just can't care about a character I know nothing about. I guess have fun posthumously frolicking in a field, Rita and Malcolm 🤷

So Jane got Casey and her sanity, Larry got Keeg and Rama, Vic got his friends and students, Cliff got see his family, their future and die peacefully beside them, Rita got to reunite with the love of her life in eternity and Laura got to, uhm, *checks notes*, play with a flamethrower? Like, ok, I do dig that she got to destroy the place that ruined her whole life guns a-blazing but what exactly does she get to do later on? The ones who remained alive all got someone to share their new found joy with, a proper plan for the future, they're at peace. Laura didn't get to neither truly reconcile with Rita, nor the Sisterhood, and now the only people she felt close to either died or went their own way without a true goodbye. What, pray tell, does her future look like beside, once again, loneliness and grief???? I fucking hated her ending. Give us a Laura de Mille spin-off, you cowards. Make it right...

#doom patrol #doom patrol spoilers #doom patrol finale spoilers #doom patrol season 4 #doom patrol 4x12 #rita farr #april bowlby #jane #diane guerrero #cliff steele #brendan fraser #larry trainor #matt bomer #victor stone #cyborg #joivan wade #laura de mille #madame rouge #michelle gomez

[amethystfairy1]

(Buckle up, this is gonna be a long one.)

Hi! Hello! How are you? :]

Let me just say, your work is simply incredible.

I've been binge-reading your TTSBC series for a few days now, as you can probably tell from all the kudos (you deserve them!), and I have been going crazy

First of all, I think this was the first Hermitcraft ship fic I've read. Conclusions/thoughts;

1) You've made me a flower husbands fan, great job, I am now obsessed with them

2) the relationship between Scott and Martyn is so precious to me, you have no idea

3) I am now a fan of ALL the relationships you've written; flower husbands, treebark, desert duo, Tango/Zed, Lizzie/Joel, Shelby/ Katherine, Etho/Doc (I hope I didn't forget anyone)

4) PEARL IS A MENACE AND I LOVE HER. SHE IS MY FAVOURITE, YOU HAVE NO IDEA. She is the big sister™ and she is the best

5)Scar is a sweetheart and that is a FACT. HE WAS SO SWEET TO CUB?? AND TO GRIAN?? I LOVE HIM

6) I absolutely love mom Cleo, her and Bdubs are so kind and thoughtful and caring to each other, I will simply explode

7) KATHERINE STRAIGHT UP JUST SAID "nope" AND WENT BACK TO THE UNDER-CITY

8) I need more Scott as a journalist. I need to see his hunger to get all the details. I need to see him use his silver-tongue skills on someone, and I need to see Jimmy(or anyone) be scared but also fascinated. I need to see more Scott and Pearl fighting for the best interview.

I don't even watch cc!Scott, and now look at me. Im obsessed with his character.

9) PESKY BIRDS BEING LITTLE WAS THE CUTEST THING EVER I WILL CRY TEARS OF JOY. SMALL BDUBS?? CHILDREN ARE SO CUTE

10) I also,,, kinda,,, want to see someone react a bit badly to seeing their partner being from the under-city. Maybe,,, Martyn being angry with being lied to? Maybe,,, Scott screaming at him that what he's doing is helping no one? Maybe, maybe,,,,

(im secretly an angst-girlie at heart, what can I say. I love me some good hurt/comfort)

11)JOEL AND LIZZIE'S BACKSTORY IS ALL I NEEDED IN LIFE, I CAN NOW DIE HAPPILY

12) please let zed and tango have a happy ending pleasepleasepleasePLEASEPLE-

13) also the titles have all been so cool! I saw a post of yours that said you use terms of endearment, and I thought that was really cute :)

14) SOUP GROUP

In conclusion, I am crazy for your work, please feed us more.

To show you how crazy I've been over this series;

I went completely nuts, explaining to my friend some basics about it the moment I was sure I've read everything, and Im probably gonna make them read it too. I've already sent them the link to the series.

They are not even a Minecraft fan. They don't know what Hermitcraft is.

Anyway, this was all to say; you're amazing, your work is truly fantastic, your writing style is one of the best I've ever seen/read (and I've read a lot of fics, do not doubt me)

Please don't feel forced to write anything I've said! I'm just throwing ideas that came over my head when reading!

(your traveling thieves series is also amazing! Im just currently full of ttsbc thoughts rn, its eating me alive /pos)

Hope my spam liking was not annoying!

Have a great day!

:D

It was not annoying in the SLIGHTEST!

Hello hello, thank you, thank you! I'm so glad TTSBC has been so enjoyable for you and that you've had fun binge reading all of it!

I am delighted and honored to be the first author you've read that has written Hermitshipping and that you've enjoyed it and it's caused you to love all my ships! That's a great day for a fanfic author!!!

FLOWER HUSBANDS ARE MY FAVORITE! More people who like Flower Husbands? HAPPIER I AM! It is a DIRECT correlation!

Someone commented at some point that they reminded them of drunk girls comforting each other in the bathroom after a party, and I think that's exactly accurate 😆

YES! ALL THE SHIPS!

Pearl is the Big Sister ™️ of the group and if anyone hurts any of her little siblings it is game over!

Scar is SUCH a sweetheart in this AU! He's a superhero, he's a boyfriend, he's a best friend, he's a professor, and he's just doing his best to juggle it all!

Zom-Mom and Sentient Glowstick. Only the best combo!

Katherine said "Wait crap I think that was the love of my life!" and dove back in!"

Journalist Scott will be making a return in several pieces of the future, don't you worry! We'll get to see him strut his stuff! I'm very glad I've gotten you to love c!Scott even if you don't watch cc!Scott, that's just the best!

PESKY BIRRRRRRRBS!

ooooo there's an angsty take. Hm. Well, there is certainly more angst on the docket for everyone, I assure you, and while I can't promise that brand of angst in particular, there is other stuff left to unpack! Please look forward to it!

JOEL AND LIZZE! BUTTERFLY AND CAT LADY! MARRIED FOR OVER A DECADE AND RUNNING A BAKERY! ADORABLE!

Zedango will return! That is all I shall say!

I'm so glad you like the titles! I think it's very cute but I have to admit I'm starting to struggle to come up with terms of endearment I haven't used before 😆

SOUP GROUP

I'm so glad you're trying to get your friend into TTSBC! The nice thing is I don't think it's too terribly difficult to spring into without context of watching any of the CCs because the characters all pretty much explain themselves within the AU. Maybe looking up some fanart for what everyone ought to look like, but it's not the worst thing!

Glad to hear you also like Traveling Thieves! I was gonna point you that way when you said you were an angst girlie so good that you're already there!

Thanks so much for coming by! 💖

#fanfic #ao3 fanfic #hermitcraft #traffic smp #through the sky blue cracks #life series #hermitshipping #trafficshipping #empires smp

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Comte’s Drama CD: Track One, Prologue

Since I got the Comte drama CD and there’s nobody around to stop me from inflicting that on everyone else, it’s time.

The premise of the entire recording is that MC and Comte spend a day together, so it’s basically Comte non-stop simping for nearly an hour. As you can imagine, I had an excellent time and I hope you will too.

I will say I did enjoy a few of the tracks more than others, only because he’s the most dramatic man alive and I love him. His head is empty and he’s the only one for me!!! More seriously though, there are also a lot of sweet moments that really speak to how vulnerable and real he is with her--and I’m always really drawn to that duality in him. Yes we all mask the true nature of who we are to a degree, but I think there is something to be said for the effort he makes to be honest with her; especially considering how deeply rooted that instinct to conceal is for him.

Without further ado, I will go through each track with little snippets of actual dialogue in the CD. Please note again, I am by no means a professional or a perfect translator; I’m just too obsessed to be stopped. 

The rest is under the cut to avoid spoilers, also because it’s long meta/squealing fest:

So the first track is called “Prologue” and as you can imagine it is exactly as it sounds. There really isn’t a whole lot to this one, as he basically recaps all the things we learn in his main story route. I do want to comment mostly on the beginning and the end of it though, since it’s exceedingly cute and makes me want to kiss him.

His spoken lines at the beginning are as follows:

So this is where you were. Were you looking at the moon from the balcony?

…Indeed, it’s true. It’s hard not to be captivated by such a beautiful crescent moon.

Usually it would be time to go to bed, but it’s such a lovely moonlit night. Let’s stay up a little late tonight.

We could have a glass of wine, or play a game? What would you prefer?

...huh? You want me to tell you a story?

Like. There are so many moving parts here, I don’t even know where to begin. The fact that he’s always seeking her presence (this can easily be corroborated by dozens of event stories). The way that he’s also drawn to the moon, the little silence there speaks to his thoughtfulness and musings of his own that are unknown to us. What does it evoke for him? Is he, too, reminded of the night they first met (hoping MC is thinking of the same)? Can you tell the thought alone is killing me?

The fact that he wants to spend that time with her, lingering beside her and unwilling to part. The way he always gives her a choice, always wants to know what she wants too. The audible surprise when he’s like ????? Storytime? And mind you I don’t think it’s because he thinks it’s immature, rather that he wasn’t expecting it. In a life surrounded by people--both purebloods and humans alike--that are entertained by so little, it’s heart-warming to be with someone who looks for something deeper, something closer to the soul. That, in a way, she’s asking for the gifts of his mind and voice, two things entirely unique to him.

I weep.

He goes on to say:

(his laughter SOBS) That’s a very sweet request…not at all, of course I don’t mind. 

I am neither a playwright, nor a novelist. I don’t know if I can tell a good story.

I hope I can fulfill my princess’ expectations.

…Hm, what should I talk about?

Well then…what about a man who lives forever?

So many things going on here, and no I will not remove my commentary because it’s essential to recreating the experience for the poor souls who will never hear the majesty of his seiyuu’s acting. Truly Horie-san exists to bring Comte to life and I hope he knows I owe him a blood debt.

ANYWHO so like. The way he’s delighted to indulge her (screaming and crying and throwing up why is he so cute??????). But not only that, the self-conscious bent of how he says “I don’t know if I can tell a good story.” I feel like it’s easy to forget that Comte is very much the type of person who prefers to blend into the background; he doesn’t seem to like or be in the habit of drawing a great deal of attention. He likes MC’s attention but I think that’s not really comparable, he’s very specific about who he shares himself with/seeks attention from.

Also I will say. I’ve never really been the type to like the term of endearment “princess” (he literally says hime in the CD) but. Because it is Comte and his adorable face that I want to squish between my hands, I will allow it. He’s a silly goose and he’s more than enough, I love him sm.

Following that he goes into his life up to that point, and because a lot of it is a bit repetitive I might leave bits and pieces out. I do want to highlight a few lines--mostly because they give insight into his character construction that might not have been as obvious in the main story.

A long time ago, so far away that even memories can grow dim…a man was born into a certain aristocratic family.

The family had a great secret. They weren’t human--they were pureblood vampires.

A person who was born with the promise of eternal life.

A person who had the capacity to pursue every pleasure in this world forever.

…But there are always two sides to everything.

…The endless life was, in other words, a prison made of time.

To have met and parted countless times with his loved ones,

The man’s chest ached with loneliness, overwrought by the emptiness.

He had no choice but to watch the world pass him by in endless hours.

I think there is. Something so haunted and fascinating in the words “But there are always two sides to everything.” Even more so because in his literal main story, he openly says “The brighter the light, the deeper the shadows”; always returning to this idea that all things in life are dual in nature. For all that you see one quality, the opposite exists as well. Interesting too because I feel like it explains a lot of his deep-seated anxieties about waiting for the other shoe to drop. Where love exists, loss exists as well. Where joy exists, so does pain. Where fulfillment is possible, so is emptiness. I think it makes a lot of sense that, when you live in an endless expanse of time, perhaps the scariest aspect of it is the constant fluctuation and change. Life is fun when things are going well, but what happens when the painful parts stretch so long? How do you cope?

Just things that keep me up at night yk.

I also think it’s fascinating the way he speaks about his immortality. In Leonardo, we see him address it as something that is monstrous and unnatural. He feels it is an abomination, something to be rectified or removed, almost. Comte doesn’t seem to share that view entirely. He says “He had no choice but to watch the world pass him by.” The removal of agency here is something that I want to highlight. Leonardo sees immortality and his identity as something that has to be reviled; there is a self-retaliatory nature to it in my view. Since he can’t fight against it, he fights against himself. Comte’s words speak more to dissociative terror; to force disconnection from your own body/mind because the pain of your entrapment or the threat to your life is so great. And tbh it’s brilliantly tied back to his lifestyle.

Comte uses the repercussions of his trauma two-fold. To seek out parties and novelties on one level expertly cloaks him in the mien of someone who is a devil-may-care product of overwhelmingly sustained privilege. But on another, I think it’s reasonable to argue that he seeks these things out with two other motives in mind; protection and grounding. He openly tells MC that his greater motive in attending parties is to seek out information to understand who to support on the world stage. This tells us that he does operate on a political level, if only to ensure the safety of his family--but I suspect it is also his way of moving the tides of fate around him in more benevolent directions. Furthermore, keeping himself engaged in something ensures that he is not left alone with his thoughts for too long and keeps him rooted in the present moment, something he also admits to struggling with. (And is a core feature of more extreme dissociation, the endless struggle to live in the present moment.)

I suppose I’m just incredibly interested in the way Leonardo regards himself with such self-hatred and revulsion, where Comte just seems so…removed. Not that Comte is empty of self-contempt, only that it does not feel quite as charged as Leonardo’s. I guess for me it more evokes the image of a child locking himself in a secret hideaway. Where Leonardo lashes out, Comte is the opposite; he retreats/hides. The only time he chooses to fight is when he’s protecting someone else (screams and cries, pls don’t get me started on his righteous fury I could go on for years, every time I remember Jeanne’s rt I’m 👌🏼 close to sobbing).

I also still don’t know how to reconcile the fact that his room is deadass filled with hourglasses (bruh), yet he says “…The endless life was, in other words, a prison made of time.” Like. Something something is his room considered the prison made of time ????? Because if that’s the case my god I’m throwing them all out. Then again it could be his attempt at controlling that which he fears, which I can respect considering I too delude myself into thinking I can control shit I can’t to face the impossibilities of the universe…

After that, Comte starts to explain the agreement he and Vlad made. Honestly it really is a summary for the most part, but there is a section I find worth discussing:

They wanted to create a person who would not die, and would continue to shine with their unique talents.

Without realizing how arrogant it was, they tried to find meaning in this life lived forever.

But…it didn’t go well.

Until there was a sizable rift between the old friends--and they parted ways.

They both loved humans, and worried about their future…they should have felt the same way.

…regardless, all that was left was a door that could cross time and space freely.

What I find interesting about all this is how Comte processes the conflict that transpired between them. Granted there is always the possibility that he’s not addressing everything he’s feeling (the man is REPRESSED) but there’s something that stands out to me when he says “they should have felt the same way.” I feel like when people have a fight with someone they tend to be pretty preoccupied that the other side was wrong; Vlad certainly is desperate to prove he was in the “right.” Comte doesn’t seem interested in that at all. He seems more confused, as if he simply doesn’t understand who Vlad is anymore. Like he doesn’t recognize the person who once cherished human life as much as he did (which I do have some contention with; I’m really not sure Vlad ever did love humanity the way Comte did. Perhaps Comte had believed it was so because he so deeply wished to have friend to comfort and understand him in his pain). I don’t think it’s that Vlad isn’t capable of caring about humans, more that--following the massacre of his clan at the very least--he has too great an interest in retaliation to be able to interact with them without power abuse happening.

I do say this fully understanding that Vlad probably saw some fked up shit, I’m just saying objectively the man sees humanity in an adversarial lens, an oppositional force. Comte tends to be more neutral/positive; he’s more interested in working to a common goal and identifies more closely with them psychologically speaking.

I also find it interesting he says their goal was “arrogant.” Recently I’ve been thinking about the complexities of arrogance. I think it can be easy to oversimplify it as shallow motives that are only focused on self-aggrandizement, but I think it can develop in even more complex situations--often with the best of intentions. I think Comte is trying to say that, while they wanted to preserve lives that were inspiring and uplifting to others, there is folly in the idea that only a few people can manage that. 

People and life in general are multi-faceted things; so many influences and variables act upon them. It is more sustainable to be a single unit of immovable, radical mindfulness and extend that outwards. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with people working together to achieve that goal, only that the responsibility for changing the world can’t fall on a handful of shoulders. It requires everyone to care and think more critically about their behavior, with the help of the people around them (ideally). There is arrogance in the belief that they had control over the fate of the world--an arrogance Vlad will not relinquish, one that continues to get him into trouble and lost him his oldest friend.

Aight and because that’s enough of my brainworms, this track ends with:

And the door brought another important encounter…that’s you. :> 

Now, you know what I mean, don’t you? That’s right…that’s the story until you and I met each other in our destiny. 

But that was only the beginning…now, we move forward together.

Our very sweet, and happy love story.

I just…………like I know I say it over and over again, but the way he just fills me to bursting with uwus. Another important encounter, a life-changing one for him…that a new story is being written, one that they get to write together. That “we move forward together” in a “very sweet, and happy love story.” It’s nearly like a fairy tale but somehow it doesn’t feel contrived or hokey when he says it, it just fills me with warmth. I think I just love that, for all his initial hesitations, he really doesn’t waver when he’s decided on something he wants. And if MC is willing to bet on him, he’s ready to up the ante.

All right well that about sums up track 1, next one to come is track 2! Enjoy these musings until then~

#ikevamp #ikemen vampire #ikevamp comte #ikevamp saint germain #ikevamp meta #ikevamp drama cd #fangdad propaganda #oh yeah and some leonardo meta if you squint #ikevamp leonardo #honestly i'd like to thank cybird for giving me a hundred more reasons to love comte #it's not like i necessarily needed more fuel but by god do i go feral #especially since he gets a bit more monopolizing as the event stories go on #MMMMMM BOY I DIE #god and kazuma horie.......... #the way he is just so good at the 'hahahahaha court jester aristocrat' to 'baby girl/panty smashing ho' #the man sends me to the stratosphere i sincerely can't imagine comte with any other voice at this point #when he laughs im just 'i need a moment' **bawls my eyes out** #truly a man who understood his assignment #that being said stay tuned for the other six tracks #ya girl is off to take a nap #being comte's simp is a full time job and i am dedicated

[thesolemnhour]

A slightly modified version of inspirations for my most prolific and neurotic brainchild! Reasoning under the cut:

Alase Brinz-Widowknife from Lost Kingdoms and King of Chaos.

I've waxed poetic plenty on how much I adore Wesley's interpretation of Old Sarkoris in Lost Kingdoms, but his present-day Sarkorian characters are just as definitive to me. Alase is a young woman who practices the old art of Godcalling, where Sarkorian summoners call on the ancient protectors of their communities. One of the last Sarkorian Godcallers in the last Sarkorian village still standing. Alase feels a deep desire to do something with her abilities and dreams of taking back to city of Undarin, where Clan Widowknife used to reside. Alase also wonders whether her eidolon Tonbarse truly has a touch of the divine or is simply a loyal companion.

This meditation on what it means to be a Sarkorian one hundred years after the Worldwound opened was so foundational to Agria's character that I named her mother after Alase and decided to make her family another branch of Clan Widowknife.

Aerith Gainsborough, from Final Fantasy 7 (remake).

When I was still trying to nail down Agria's voice, my trick was to imagine all of her dialogue as though Aerith were saying them. Aerith has this delightful combination of sweetness and forcefulness. She's a very nice girl, and you're going to do what she asks! Possibly my favorite line in the game is when she and Cloud are halfway through a plan to sneak into a mobster's house, and she's telling him the last thing he needs to do. Cloud is like, "Hold on a minute," and she says, "No can-do, Cloud. This is our plan, and you'll learn to love it!" I'll take "Things Agria has said to Woljif," for $100, Alex.

Emma Woodhouse from Austen's Emma.

When Jane Austen set herself to writing Emma, she wanted to create "a heroine no one but me will much like." Emma is often selfish, unkind, and thoughtless, but she also cares deeply about the people around her and is willing to change her mind to accommodate them. Agria, likewise, can be a bit too attached to her own way of thinking to consider anyone else's, and it's Emma I look to most when I think about the ways that Woljif forces her to consider other perspectives.

Katara from Avatar: The Last Airbender.

A little bit like Emma, it's Katara's best and worst traits that make her such an influence on Agria. Katara is equally as capable of being kind, curious, and passionate as she is of being controlling and emotional. She can carry grudges and be competitive. Agria is many of these things as well, and the combination of these traits is what always brings me back to her

Kitri, from Don Quixote.

Kitri, my love! From her very first entrance to the ballet, Kitri effortlessly commands the attention of those around her. After every movement, it's like she turns to the audience to say, "Ta-DA!" She is fiery and joyful and alive! She has enormous spirit and insists on having things her way. She's a bit of a brat (affectionate). She is who I look to when I want to represent Agria being a drama queen.

Evgenia Medvedeva, Russian figure skater and Olympic silver medalist.

There is a kind of insanity at the heart of athletes that I'm obsessed with. A sense that if you just push yourself hard enough, you will accomplish everything you want. Evgenia Medvedeva has so much of this, and I am convinced she is the most intense person who has every lived. "As soon as you take it easy," she explained in one documentary, "you get nowhere. You're the same as everyone else." Are you sure about that, two-time world champion, Evgenia Medvedeva?? But it's never enough. That's Agria!

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#cant believe i forgot emma and alase the first time hope i die #ag tag #pwotr pals