#anyway if they skip over all the mourning he's about to do i will take a massive shit on the floor in disney's lobby

[alwaysshallow]

― blood on my shirt, rose in my hand

SUMMARY: Simon Riley knows you have bad experiences with dating, but he also knows you don't really need no one but him. He's gonna provide you anything. So you can imagine how he could change, when for the first time, you think you've found the one man who's right for you. To your surprise, weird events happen during the time you date Nick. Thankfully, Simon's there to help you. (11,4k)

READ ON AO3

A/N: this is SUCH a long piece, so some of it is here, but the full version is on AO3. i hope you're gonna forgive me for this one </3

"It's not like I'm ugly, right? I thought about it. If I'm ugly, so that's why it doesn't work out." you sip your favorite wine, looking right at your best friend, who has been listening for the past hour your ramblings about dating.

"You're fuckin' stupid, but not ugly, pet."

He's the best friend in the world – you can say this, meaning it with your whole heart. In fact, he's the best friend everyone probably wished to have, at least in your mind. Not only here for you, but loyal, you can tell him basically anything. He wouldn't say a thing, even if someone was nagging, and he was mostly a good adviser; all the qualities you looked for in a best friend, right?

And he was brutally honest, like right now, but you don't mind it. Simon Riley had this thing, and even if sometimes you were almost offended at his bluntness (like this one time, when he told you you're a crying mess and you act… worse than a toddler), you mostly appreciated it. Your other friends couldn't compare to his honesty, this man was not the one to lick your ass.

Or, so you thought.

"Excuse me?" you raise your eyebrow, laughing, while shaking your head. "You should, I don't know, tell me I'm amazing and they don't deserve me. Or so." you joke; it causes him to roll his eyes.

"That's what I told you. Different words, but the same thingy."

"Right."

It sometimes sucks for you that Simon isn't a girl. He has this unbelieveably annoying guy thing, where he just can't be delusional with you, and he can't just mourn over some hot guy. His way of thinking is… on the other level, he totally skips the mourn part, the part that is pathetic; he's just saying things like "move on" and "there's a lot of them anyway". Again, you love it, but you really wish you could cry about guy being so pretty that it hurts, without him rolling his eyes.

Yet, when you're more in mad mood than mourning one, his attiude is just perfect. He's the one to encourage you to scream, he even brought you a few times to rage room when you needed to smash a few things, not to mention the attiude he was setting you in. Powerful, not giving a shit about a "piece of a man that doesn't deserve you".

Simon sighs. "You're worryin' too much. Really that desperate?"

You huff, as you sink more into the plushy couch in your apartment. "I'm not desperate. It's just…" you take a few seconds to think "being love starved."

"Sex starved, you mean."

"Love starved." you send him a look.

"Mhm. You fancy plushies, hugs, and all shite like this?"

"You're so fucking British, it hurts" you laugh. "Yeah. Yeah, I want something like this. Someone to hold me, someone that cares about me and I know it. Sex comes in package, of course, but it's just… ugh, I want a man" you groaned.

You feel as pathetic as ever, when Simon doesn't respond – because how exactly should he? He wasn't vocal about things like this, he usually just nod his head, and there it was, another topic. A miracle it was that he was already listening to your date rambling, not cutting it off because he was uncomfortable or something.

Dreams about your love life… more girly conversation.

Mostly – you know guys who loved talking about it, obviously, and you adore it pretty much, especially when you can know their perspective on some things, but… Riley wasn't really one of them. He had "simple hookups" as he said one day, when you asked him about doing double-dates. It wasn't even an option, he just liked to ocassionally fuck and that's all.

So you stopped trying a few months ago for a double-date. Instead, you focused more on finding a man that would meet your expectations at least in the middle, and that was exhausting, to be honest. Tinder dates were just a disaster after disaster – if it wasn't some catfish, a guy that wanted to marry you and have kids after two weeks of writing, it was most definitely a guy with a desire to bang you quickly.

Romance was dead these days, you noticed. That wouldn't keep you away from trying to find someone, though. Patience was a key in things like these.

"Maybe you will set me up with one your friends? It wouldn't suck. You know them." you think out loud.

"Definitely too much wine f'you." Simon takes your glass, and pours all of the liquid to his mouth, swallowing it like it was some kind of juice, not alcohol. "You don't want a guy from military in your life. Trust me."

There's some sternness to his tone, at which you raise your eyebrow. It was just a funny comment from your side, nothing else – you know by the heart that this man doesn't like the idea of connecting his two worlds. "I know, Simon. Just joking, right?"

You place a hand on his. It's a comedic, yet, heartwarming view, when you see the size difference.

"And, you're pretty cool for a military guy."

He huffs. It seems like pretty cool offends him, but he doesn't say it out loud, so it can be only your imagination working. "You met me before I enlisted. 's different."

"How different?"

"You knew me before military."

He doesn't give you another answer that night, nor the continuation of this one – he brushes you off, like you are some kind of bug that is disturbing him, and brings up another topic, about his deployment. He asks if you can watch his apartment when he's gone, take care of it; it's stupid, Simon knows that you will always agree, but it's the need of asking you anyway.

And, he likes coming home, where he can smell your perfume, where he can see that you made some changes. You tend to do that a lot, mostly buying stuff to his apartment. "It looks worse than room in the hospital" you always say, when he cocks his eyebrow with amusement. He doesn't say that, but he finds it really adorable that you care so much, to make his space… cozier, even if he's not really attached to it. Mostly, it's for your comfort when you come to visit him, and that happens a lot; not like he minds it. Anyone else would be banned from his apartment, but you? Oh God, you wouldn't be, not in the milion years.

You could probably be the worst ever to him; call him names, punch, anything, and he would still be your Simon. It's what he was used to, to being by your side, no matter what time, no matter if you were in the good mood or not; your presence was everything to him.

Not like he'd ever confess that, but it is what you know, silently.

Yet, you are so good to him. Always sending him letters or texting him when he is on deployment. A couple of times, you sent him little things too, if he forgot something, photos included too, but new ones; mostly you captured views, but you were here once or twice. His happiness may not be that visible to outsiders, but his heart is full every time.

"My girl", he'd tell boys when they saw a polaroid of you, swiftly tucking it into his vest because no one was allowed to see it more than three seconds.

Often, Gaz joked if you are actually his girl even if you're not dating, but it sounded so bizzare to Ghost. How would you not be his? Thirteen years of friendship counted as something beyond being only his best friend, no? At least in his mind it was like this. He was used to you dating briefly other guys, but it lasted maybe a few months top. Nothing serious, probably his hookups were more meaningful than your relationships.

So you can easily imagine his confusion, when your mutual friends tell him big news about your new object of interest; someone that he doesn't even know yet, but he's not really his fan on the beggining.

It was just a month of being away.

His eyes are on you now; you are embarrassed, looking anywhere but at him. You don't even speak, you just wave your hand in dismissive manner, trying to change the topic because you don't really want to talk about it. Not in the presence of your best friend, at least.

It works for everyone but Simon, and you know it by the way he looks at you, processing what he just heard. Changing a topic, sudden talkativeness from your side is like buying time in that, time precious to think what to say to your best friend later on.

Because you know for the fact that he'll ask. He always does, and now he has a reason.

You have your reasons why you haven't told him. "It's nothing serious. That's why I didn't tell you." your voice is a little more silent than usual, but he can hear it anyway. You two are taking a walk to your apartment with no one around; and it's awkward one.

Simon seems like he doesn't want to say anything about your poor choice of men. It worries you; he always wanted somehow to make fun of you or make comment. Now, it's just a nod, like he gets it, but you know it's not it. He doesn't get it.

But you don't know what it is.

"C'mon!" you nudge him, and when it doesn't seem to affect him, you stand right in front of him. A little wobbly because of alcohol, your vision isn't so great too, but it makes him stop in his tracks. "Say something."

"Somethin'" he grumbles, and you can't help but roll your eyes. "What? Told me-"

"-I know what I told you!" you cup his face in your hands. Your head is a bit hazy, but the intensions are clear; making him talk and soft. It always works, so you have a lot of hope. "He's a good guy, but I want to meet him a bit closer to be… certain about him, you know? You've heard me whining about boys a bit too much."

"You can tell me everything." he muses, and you can't help but smile at that. Of course – of course you can tell him everything. You never doubted it for a second, and you think of yourself as stupid, doubting that he wouldn't want to hear about it. "Ill be the judge of that, though. Good guy thing."

"I can't be trusted?" you tease, and when he lets out a low chuckle, you grin even more. It's like a reward after him being his grumpy self.

"No." he shakes his head. "You don't know what is good for you. But that's why I'm here."

Under the influence of alcohol, you didn't pay too much of attention to his words; probably you wouldn't pay attention to it even if he'd say this when you are sober. Simon as your protector – it's so natural, you don't even need to think about it as something weird. It's just the way things are for thirteen years, everyone knows this.

Your friends, who were a bit reluctant on the beggining, but two parties later, when he joined the competition of drinking on time and wasn't drunk at all, he won over their hearts.

It was tougher with your parents, when you were in highschool. A little distanced at first, they constantly asked where were his parents (which, you told them, was rude asking, especially to his face), telling you how much of a bad news he could be for you. Suggestion of him ruining your future was the worst, you never thought of him this way; that discussion caused you to give them the silent treatment for a few days.

Apparently after that, suggesting that Simon is around you too much, clinging to your side and giving you "weird glances", they stopped the narrative, admitting that the boy might be damaged, but not broken. You still felt like they're judging their every move, but seeing that he had pretty good life plan, seeing that he thought about military and went here actually? Hell, they completely stopped being suspicious in any means.

Riley just had this thing of charming people, even if they didn't like him in the beggining. He had everything under his finger, trying to keep things under control – it was like that… pretty much since the beggining of his life. You met him when he was an adult, but he always liked to keep things under control; people, things that he cared about. What belonged to him was sacred, untouchable for anyone else.

The possessiveness started in his early childhood with toys, when he absolutely despised everyone who just wanted to touch his things, to lay their dirty, filthy fingers here. In early classes, it was considered just rude.

When he was older though, he started fighting for various things. Knowing he has the advantage, he used his legs, fists, when he had to, and no one was looking, besides the actual victim. He wasn't stupid; he knew how troublesome the public can be, he also knew the power of manipulation a bit too well to get caught so easily. Wasn't the plan, getting caught; it once happened, but because he wanted to; he even broke his own nose, making it like the other guy did it, just to get what he needed. The reputation of kid who was broken in the childhood, so he's just not opening on others was… suitable, for him. No one could suspect anything, especially when the kid just happened to be "attacked" by one of the popular ones, right?

The idea of power was something that Simon truly desired from the beggining; maybe it has something to do with the lack of his parents in his life, being transferred from one foster family to another. Maybe it's just him being a little fucked up – who knows.

What mattered, was the fact he had you. You, so sweet, so considerate to be by his side, to be protected by him, to be the person who "opened" because of her. Little did you know, he opened just because he wanted to be closer to you, not those fuckers you hang out with.

If you knew his past, you would have another reasons in mind, why he showed up to meet your potential new boyfriend. Jealousy, posessiveness, power complex, him being a control freak who can't give you to anyone he personally doesn't trust – if ever, considering you were his precious best friend. He isn't willing to share.

You aren't really aware of him being this crazy. You think of his flaws, and you see someone that has been damaged, someone that you can and will help, if he just asks for it – or if you'll see he needs it. So, naturally, you help, and grin the widest you can, when you see him in the door. He shows completely unexpected. It doesn't take you long to wrap your hands around his neck, tight, as you hug him.

Happy as always because you can see your friend, happy as ever because moments like these means a lot to you. When he's deployed, you can't even see him, so you're taking all in when he's right in front of you.

"Hope 'm not interruptin'." he murmurs into your hair, as his head is practically buried in them; he has to bend down a little to be at your level, but it's something he enjoys. The power.

"Never." you say immediately, not even hesitating in your statement. "Actually, you found a pretty good moment."

"That I did, eh?" his eyebrow arches, as he straightens up.

"As always. Nick's here, you have to meet him."

|READ THE REST ON AO3|

#ghost x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x you #ghost #ghost cod #simon riley x f!reader #cod x reader #simon riley imagine #simon riley smut #simon riley fluff #best friends to lovers #best friend simon riley

[lovebugism]

Heyo!

Can you pretty please with sugar on top do something with Steve and shy!reader and then passing notes?

Feel free to skip if you want, and thank you in advance! Your writing skills are so good!

ty angel! hope you like it xoxo — after a scolding from keith for talking to you on the job, steve takes matters into his own hands (shy!fem!r, fluff, established relationship, 1.3k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Grieving, grieving, grieving.

Steve goes into his fourth hour on the clock mourning the lack of you. You’re sitting just beside him, click-clacking away at the chunky computer, but he misses you anyway. He hasn’t said a word to you in an hour. He’s pretty sure it has to be a record by now, especially with you close enough to kiss.

Keith got mad at the two of you for ‘fonduing on the job.’ Whatever that means. Now, the two of you are silent and unsure of what to do with yourselves. This job was only tolerable because he could spend eight hours with you. What’s he supposed to do now? Work?

“Have a good day,” he says, a bit robotically but with a smile, as he hands a customer their bag of movies. Killer Klowns, Poltergeist, and Basketcase — for what must be a horror movie marathon for a holiday season cleanse.

The customer service grin washes away the second the door dings open and shut again. The store is quiet and mostly empty, eerily so without you to fill the void. 

A funny joke pops into his head then, and his first instinct is to tell you about it — just to see you smile ‘cause he knows you’ll laugh even if it’s not funny. He looks over his shoulder to make sure Keith isn’t looking, then finds the weirdo watching him like a hawk, only his beady eyes visible over the aisle of tapes.

Steve cowers beneath the ice-cold glare and turns away again. He reaches for a sticky note instead, bright yellow and with the Family Video logo printed in green at the top. The jotting of his pen against the pad fills the mostly silent store. 

He yawns and fakes a stretch to stick the thing on the counter next to you.

You don’t notice it at first — because inventory has drained your awareness so much that it’s all you can focus on — but you’re smiling the second you do. It schlicks when you un-stick it from the laminate to find a sloppy drawing of a cartoon pig. 

“Missing you pig time” is written in something close to chicken scratch just beside it.

You get all giddy, like a schoolgirl in the back of the classroom getting a note from their crush. Being with Steve feels exactly like that, all the time. On the legal pad next to you, you write a cheesy pun of your own — a plump hippo in a neater cursive that reads “I hippopota-miss you.” 

You rip it from the notebook slowly and with a palm spread flat to avoid making too much noise. You crumble it up to pretend like it’s trash, then intentionally miss the bin beside you. The thing bounces by Steve’s sneakers before he bends down to pick it up with a golden hand.

He smooths out the paper as best he can on the counter. Then leans on his elbow and props his scruffy chin in his palm, using his fingers to hide the beam on his face. With his free hand, he draws you a hedgehog adjacent to the cartoonish animal you’d created — only he doesn’t really remember what a hedgehog looks like, so it’s more of a circle with spikes.

“Could really use a hedge-hug right now,” he writes.

He crushes the paper between his palms and tosses it into your lap.

You shoot him a glare, accompanied with a small smile, but he looks away too quickly to see it. 

You begin to beam as your eyes dart over the crumbled paper, an expression so wide Steve can see it in his own head. He’s grieved to miss it, but he doesn’t want Keith to see him and think he’s distracted again. Besides, he knows if he looks at you too long, he’ll have no choice but to kiss you stupid.

Now all you are is unkissed and grieving, more so than you were just five minutes ago. You grow empty with the feeling. It makes the spark of bravery and sudden longing burn brighter behind your ribcage.

You rise from your squeaking swivel chair and walk the very short distance to Steve. Three steps. Five, maybe. Six at the very most. You don’t count them, too overwhelmed by your love for the boy who doesn’t see you coming.

You wrap him up in your arms, wedging yourself between him and the countertop. Your arms clasp behind his lower back as your cheek squishes into his sternum. He smells like home, cologne, and something warmer.

Steve tenses beneath your embrace. Not because he doesn’t welcome it, but because you’re not usually so affectionate this way. It took you months to kiss him first — longer to stop asking to kiss him before you did it. 

And you’re a delicate little thing, too. You hate getting in trouble. Hate the thought that someone, somewhere in the world, was at some point unhappy with you. And even though you don’t particularly care for your boss, you’d think you’d probably cry if Keith ever scolded you.

Steve knows this, too. So he doesn’t give in to you so easily.

“Whatcha doing?” he croons lowly to you.

“Give you a hedge-hug,” you mumble into his chest.

He scoffs a faint laugh that fans across your forehead. “You’ll get in trouble,” he teases in a gentle whisper, slowly melting into your embrace. His wide hands smooth warm along your spine. He doesn’t press you anything closer with his touch, just cradles you softly against him.

“Don’t care. I just miss you.”

“Hippopota-miss me?” he jokes and noses into your hair. You smell like home, in both the figurative and literal sense of the word. Equal parts because you spent the night at his place and because your scent strikes something short of nostalgia inside his chest.

You laugh. He can feel the golden sound of it in his ribcage. “Pig time,” you answer.

“How’d you like that one, huh?” he asks, muffled against you.

“It was genius.”

“Right!” he chuckles. “Thought of it outta nowhere and had to tell someone about it.”

Your head shakes against him as a grin blossoms on your lips. He can’t see it from this angle, but he can feel it — in the way your cheek squishes harder against his sternum. “Your brain is so amusing, you know that?”

Steve, knowing that would be an insult coming from Robin, decides to take it as a compliment from you. He presses his petaled mouth to your forehead and lingers there for several moments. “Thank you,” he murmurs after.

The Robin in question turns out to be his savior, neither intentionally nor ungrudgingly.

She’s stacking VHS tapes on the shelves with Keith, both of them crouched to restock the bottom rows. She rises first, bones creaking in protest. “God, I feel like an eighty-year-old, man,” she groans and stretches her aching knees.

Back to full height again, she sees the two of you wrapped in an embrace behind the counter. She scoffs and rolls her eyes. Not because she’s jealous — she’s definitely not jealous — but because the two of you couldn’t last a whole hour not talking. It’s deplorable.

But despite her internalized complaints, she refuses to let Keith catch you fonduing a second time. Right before he stands beside her, she swipes a hand over the top row of tapes. Adventure movies titled L through M tumbled to the ground, a few of them knocking the older boy on his mulleted head.

“Ow!” he winces, nasally and whiny. He cradles the top of his deep brown, only slightly greasy hair and stares daggers at the girl above him. “What the heck was that for?”

Robin shoots him a shaking smile, freckled face blotched pink. “Sorry,” she lilts, voice trembling. “Spasm.”

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #stranger things #stranger things imagine #steve harrington imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: bug turns one

[bunnystalker]

enemy's daughter (18+)

albert goes after chris's daughter.

a/n; @thatgirlgames who said i was teasing? also teehee i love old man wesker sorry guysss

cw; creep!wesker, afab!reader, major age gap (reader is 21, wesker is 61), circa 2021 aka re8, wesker lives au, unsafe sex (p in v), creampie, brief nipple play, clitoral stimulation, fingering, door sex, slight breeding kink, praise and degredation

petnames used; little dove, dearest, angel

you still haven't told your dad about your boyfriend, but honestly, you don't think he needs to know. not like he ever asks, or checks in with you, anyway. growing up, you'd rebel to get his attention, but this is your best try yet.

you're dating the albert wesker, the one your dad swore he killed back in 2009. what a stupid idea, you know, but you're head over heels for the much older man. every touch warms your chest, that feeling travelling up and warming your cheeks, too. it's a different kind of high, getting the attention of an older, dangerous man that your father absolutely despises. in some weird way, being with an older guy makes you feel safe. when albert wraps his arms around you, his toned forearms warm on your stomach even through your shirt, you feel… good. you don't think about what's troubling you as much. you feel light, and like you can relax because he's got you.

he makes you go dumb in many ways. his favorite way is take you by the waist and press a kiss to your forehead, muttering about "what a good girl" you are. the way your eyes gloss over and your cheeks flush pink makes his cock hard in his leather pants. every time you give him that look, it takes all of him to keep from fucking you wherever you may be. you knew you were in for it the first time he said it for you, because he's never let you live it down since.

you just hope your dad doesn't come home to see wesker when his restraint fails. like now.

albert hasn't bothered to undress you properly as he presses you against your front door, your tits squished against the fiberglass composite exterior with your back arched, his hips flush with your own as he rips your tights open by the gusset. fleetingly, you mourn the loss of another pair of tights.

"baby," you whine as he grips your hips with one hand, the other coasting around to and down your tummy to cup your cunt through your sinfully sheer underwear. you're wet, but what's new? you've been wet since you greeted him at the door, hours prior, and now as he's about to leave. of course, he can't leave you without giving you some of his cum.

"i know, dearest, i know." he murmurs, his hard-on throbbing in the confines of his pants. they're becoming uncomfortable, his precum forming a wet patch in his boxers. he needs you now.

the hand on your hip moves, slipping under your shirt and beneath the cup of your bra to lightly pinch your nipple, eliciting a soft moan from you as you press your cheek against the door. your knees are hardly supporting you at this point. his hand cupping your cunt moves the gusset of your panties aside, two long and cold fingers moving between your wet folds, pushing into your weeping cunt with ease. gummy walls flutter and clench, a breathy noise leaving you. the heel of his hand bumps against your clit with every thrust of his fingers, the friction bringing you ever closer to your impending orgasm.

you don't really have time to be doing this, though. your father is due home in ten minutes.

just as you get close, your cunt sucking in his fingers with every welcome thrust, he rids you of them and instead forces them in your mouth, his other hand leaving your body to undo his belt and nearly tear his fly open. he skips taking them off, favoring pushing them down just enough for his cock to be let free. it's leaking something fierce, even as he drags the fat head through your folds as a warning before sheathing himself fully inside you.

the stretch brings about an unwelcome burn that melts into pleasure within seconds as he starts thrusting with the desperation of a dying man. as much as he'd love to surprise your dad with you impaled and drooling on his cock, on edge and ready to cum, he'll save that for another day. he's too preoccupied with how your cunt sucks him in, how you whine and dig your nails into the tough material of the front door, the brass doorknob digging uncomfortably into your thigh. if he could keep you this dumb, this sedated from his cock forever, he would.

you're all but drooling, every thrust forcing a sinful sound from the depths of your throat. the lewd squelching noise you two make together only adds to the intensity, how he's so rough with you. his whispers in your ear, praise mixed with filth, make you squeeze him extra nice.

"such a sweet girl, angel. my dumb little dove, already drooling just from my cock," he croons in your ear, hardly breaking a sweat as you draw nearer to your climax. you nod, fucked out and dizzy.

"mhm- m'gonna c-cum- fuck-" you scratch at the door just as the pad of his middle finger circles your puffy clit, his free hand nearly crushing the bones in your hips. he groans quietly, just barely audible but with the close proximity it's hard to miss.

you cum with a final cry of his name, your kneels threatening to buckle below you. he bites your pulse point, stifling the moan he lets loose as the coil in his own stomach tightens. he's not going to pull out, either. he never does, in hopes of knocking you up, and he knows you're ovulating. you made the mistake of telling him so just a few days ago and he hasn't stopped thinking about it since.

you're whining that it's too much, that your dad is almost home and that you two need to stop really soon. he cums not a moment later, not stopping as he fully intends on fucking his spend as deep as possible into you. his cock pokes your cervix and you yelp, briefly realizing that nobody's ever done that to you before.

just as quickly, he's tucking himself into his pants and hoisting you up in his arms to place you on the couch. he pecks your lips before rushing out the door with a brief "goodbye", leaving you stuffed with his cum and dizzy in the middle of your living room. you hear his car start and peel out of the driveway, just as your dad texts you that he's almost home. you let your eyes flutter shut as you turn on your side, falling asleep shortly after.

when you wake up, you've got a blanket over your lower half and your dad's sitting in his recliner, glass of bourbon in hand and a cigarette in the other. he doesn't need to tell you that he knows what happened.

#bunnystalker ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡ #bunny's fics ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ #albert wesker #resident evil #albert wesker x reader #resident evil fanfiction #albert wesker smut #albert wesker fanfic #resident evil x reader #resident evil smut

[sixosix]

IT WAS ALL BY DESIGN | KAVEH (2)

tags second chance, angst and fluff, time-skips, lovers to exes to lovers again, profanity, happy ending

a/n wc 6K (omfg) kaveh lore spoilers and not rlly canon compliant

previous part

when kaveh is jostled awake, he dreads the pitiful expression of the forest ranger who called for him.

kaveh now stands over people hunched and bent to their knees, picking up what they can clean and batting away the aggravated fungi.

the withering, they said.

there’s nothing left. or, well, what should be his masterpiece is just dust and debris. it was so close to being like what he imagined when he could still dream. it was so close to finishing, why—why did it have to…?

he’s the only one standing over kneeling people, yet he’s never felt so small at the moment. as if he’s back to being a little kid, unsure of what to do with himself as everyone scrambled about in front of him. he hasn’t felt this need to cry since the building blocks he had spent hours stacking meticulously on top of each other all came tumbling down with one wrong swipe.

the withering struck at the same moment kaveh thought that things were going perfectly. he should’ve known—it could never be that easy.

he only snaps out of it when you come to his side, reaching for him. he doesn’t even realize he is quivering until you run your hands through his hair, and he feels like breaking inside because he doesn’t deserve it.

he should’ve known. he should’ve known.

he should’ve listened to dori.

dori is furious with him, which is somehow even worse than seeing his own creation in ruin when it was perfectly fine the day before. dori’s face is twisted in rage, screaming at him to leave this goddamn project. large, extravagant, do whatever you want, dori had said, repeating her words, and this is what happens?

“fuck,” he groans, burying his face in his trembling palms. it’s no different from a child throwing a tantrum.

“kaveh,” you murmur, and he tenses for all the wrong reasons.

you shouldn’t see him like this, so weak and pathetic. he’s humiliated, distraught, and you’re seeing all of it. his face burns in shame, his eyes growing hotter along with it.

“kaveh,” you repeat. kaveh, stubbornly, childishly, doesn’t look up. “i’m feeling tired, can we stay here?”

“...okay.”

neither of you comment on his quaver, and kaveh knows he’s the one trembling in the knees, not you. small mercies like these give kaveh the courage to blindly reach in front of him to feel your hand. you take him, and kaveh’s never felt safer despite everything.

“remember, kaveh, when i told you that mourning flowers reminded me of your eyes?”

confused, kaveh replies slowly, “yes. you gave one to me. i still have it.”

you beam at his response, encouraged to continue. “i learned about another flower, a specialty in mondstadt. windwheel asters. i want to pick one straight from the grass, tuck it behind your ear, and watch it spin around before i get distracted by your eyes again because they have the same shade.”

“we can have someone deliver it,” kaveh mumbles, his shoulders slumping. “so you don’t have to travel all the way there.”

“yeah.” you breathe in deeply, resting your forehead against his. “yeah, i should’ve.”

kaveh hasn’t realized that the rangers and construction crew started filtering out until it was dead silent, enough for kaveh to feel like he could hear the stars speaking to him. enough where your heartbeat is the loudest sound at the moment.

“it’s okay. we can stay here for as long as you need,” you assure him with the kindest smile that he knows shouldn’t be directed at him. “i’m too tired to walk back anyway.”

“i love you,” he whispers, the first time either of you called it what it was. he feels that this is the truest phrase he had ever said, even though he’s not sure you even heard it.

kaveh held you closer to him that night, afraid that the withering would creep in and take you away from him, too.

do the right thing, no matter what it costs you.

kaveh has heard this saying before, over and over again. he first heard it from his father, and kaveh fully believed that he’d do so without hesitation if ever the time came. then from old, wise scholars who told tales of how much they sacrificed to have this much success today. but dreaming about his father brings him back to himself, curled up on a dusty couch, having returned from fontaine to attend his mother’s wedding.

if the cost is his own happiness, is it still worth it? is it still the right thing to do?

he hadn’t seen his mother smile so wide since she wrapped her arms around her new husband. kaveh wonders how she was able to let go so fast, but he finds that he doesn’t blame her because this is what she deems is the right thing to do.

no matter what it costs you.

kaveh awakes with a start in the middle of the night, when crickets are still loud in his ears, and the streets are dead silent as most of everyone has gone to bed. his head is spinning, heart racing, but there’s a fire in his eyes that he thought had been snuffed out since the incident.

“kaveh…?” you rub your eyes tiredly from where you’re resting on his chest.

kaveh smiles at the tender sight of nuzzling up to him like this, soft with sleep and smelling like him. “you should go home and clean up.”

you’re slurring your words together, heavily lethargic. “but what ‘bout you?”

“i’ll be fine,” kaveh murmurs fondly, unable to resist kissing your forehead. “i’ll be fine.” because he knows now that even if he were to do the right or wrong thing, he still has you to come back to, and that’s more than enough for him to do it no matter the cost.

kaveh sells his house.

it was almost underwhelming. he was expecting a heart-wrenching realization stopping him halfway through even making that decision, yet all he felt as he talked to the buyers was this empty feeling—the same one he feels every time he comes back to it as if it’s still his home.

all that runs through his mind is that he has a new one now. and this one, he will not even think about selling off. more than a building, more than just a house.

this revelation keeps him chin-up and strong as he faces dori and tells her about his decision. he’s sure that dori’s cunning smile will haunt him for a few days.

“you’ve been so busy, kaveh.” you narrow your eyes, studying his face from all angles with your hand on his chin. “what’s up? have you been feeling unwell? someone pushing you to your limits?”

kaveh is trying so, so hard not to smile and spoil the surprise, but you’re poking his cheek and pouting again like before, and he’s weak to anything you give him. “no,” he laughs, letting you move his face around so long as you keep your hands on him.

“you’re happy,” you conclude. “something good happened. another commission?” you frown when kaveh shakes his head. kaveh kisses the point where your brows furrow, unable to help himself. “don’t give me that. even cyno isn’t telling me.”

“cyno knows that you’ll like this surprise this time.”

“the last time you hid something from me, it ended terribly,” you warn.

kaveh huffs. “not anymore, i swear on it. because it’s finished, and i’m going to show the surprise right now.”

“what?”

it’s not quite finished, the palace of alcazarzaray. there are people on the sidelines painting the walls, some digging their hands in the dirt and watering the carefully selected flowers. he watches as your eyes draw to it first, gaze softening impossibly—and this is where kaveh knew that he did something right.

“oh,” you murmur.

kaveh doesn’t take your silence as an insult—quite the opposite. he lets you soak it all in, just like he did when the building looks more like what he envisioned, even when he’s drawn this over and over in his head and on paper.

it’s not his place. he doesn’t own it, but deep down, he proudly calls it his.

“this looks like the draft you made that day,” you say after a long moment of silence. “the one you said you did on ‘autopilot.’”

“that’s because it is.” kaveh lays his eyes on it. “i sacrificed so much for this.”

you grin, turning to him. “you know what i’ll say already, don’t you?”

“that i’ve wonderfully lost my mind?”

“that there’s nothing i wish more than to see what the world looks like in your eyes.”

kaveh blushes madly. “you shouldn’t. you’d just see yourself.”

he wanted to give you a tour, but there’s not much to be done when your lips slot against his under the stars, and you’re right in front of his magnum opus as if you’re part of it.

whispers come quickly and float long enough for kaveh to pick up on it the moment he stepped foot on the hallways.

there he is, they say. kaveh built the palace of alcazarzaray, didn’t you hear? yes, yes that one. light of kshahrewar.

he wants to smile politely when they all look at him as if he’s hung the stars, but he knows it’d only come off as bitter. they aren’t wrong: he did something right and good with that project, and everything turned out safe and finished in the end—

but it doesn’t just end there. he sits in a pile not of mora but dust and a heavy heart upon the reminder that he sold off what used to be his home for this. it cost him; does that mean this is the right thing?

kaveh takes a deep breath in and knocks on tighnari’s door.

immediately, he’s greeted by the sight of his friends: al-haitham and cyno tucked in some corner playing TCG (cyno winning), tighnari pointing in his direction, and you brightening as the door closes behind kaveh.

“kaaaveehh!” you garble happily, crashing into his chest and snuggling. “kaveh, you’re here.”

kaveh doesn’t need to sniff the air to piece two and two together. “you’re drunk already?” kaveh smiles, helping you regain balance.

tighnari sighs as he trots over, ears drooping in shame. “that’s my fault. i didn’t realize y/n took my glass until i took a sip and tasted water.”

“kaveeeh,” you wail, holding onto his sleeves desperately like someone is going to take him away. “kaveh, look at you! you’re so—so nice. so pretty. i love youuu…”

“i love you, too,” he says warmly, turning his head away so you wouldn’t see the stupid grin on his face.

in this angle, he can see the judgemental stares of cyno and al-haitham, which prompts a “shut up!” from him despite them having not said anything.

you hiccup. “kaveh, i need to sit down. kaveh, can we sit down?”

he leads you to the nearest loveseat, never once separating from you—not that he can when you aren’t giving him a chance to, anyway. “can i get a glass, too?” he asks tighnari, who was holding back laughter while watching the entire scene.

when tighnari comes back with enough glasses to have kaveh know right away that he won’t be leaving this house with steady steps, they all their glasses for a toast. to kaveh, to the palace of alcazarzaray, to everyone.

“hey.” kaveh rests a hand on the small of your back, which you bat away clumsily.

“i have a boyfriend,” you grumble, “don’t… don’t…”

“what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” kaveh teases.

“ugh, don’t talk to me. go away. i feel like i’m about to hurl yesterday’s lunch. i’ll do it on you,” you threaten, head lolling as you try to sit up. kaveh helps you through it, chuckling quietly when you push him off and repeating that you have a boyfriend.

and then you start crying.

said boyfriend, of course, panics, hands flying uselessly as tears fall and keep falling from your eyes. “why are—are you crying? what happened? do we need to take you outside?”

“my boyfriend… i want to be with him forever…” you sob through sniffles, awkwardly wiping tears away with a wobbly arm.

kaveh frowns. “well, why can’t you?”

“because i can’t stay here forever. but he stays here forever. i want to stay with him forever, but i can’t. i need to go everywhere, not—not stay here. my head hurts. please, i need water.”

overwhelmed, kaveh goes to fetch a glass of water, numb. “here, water. drink it slowly,” he says.

“thank you,” you say. “don’t tell him i said any of those.”

“i won’t, i promise,” kaveh says, his voice small.

without warning, you climb over and settle on his lap, resting your cheek against his chest. kaveh doesn’t know if it’s the first sip of alcohol or if it’s just you making his heart race and placate all at once—but he already knows the answer.

“i thought you have a boyfriend?” kaveh asks, carding his fingers through your hair.

“i do, but…” you exhale slowly, your weight getting a little heavier as you relax, and kaveh smiles because how could he not? “you smell like home.”

he’ll bring it up some other time.

unfortunately, he doesn’t get the courage to bring it up. he faces his consequence when it’s too late, and you’re the one to speak to him about it.

you’re braiding his hair, slow and steady, the way he likes it. you’ve bought him various hairpins that you said match his eyes. he doesn’t think he’s met someone who’s loved his eyes as much as you before. to show his appreciation, he insists on wearing all of them, even if he doesn’t need them.

“do you remember the exchange program i mentioned briefly a while back?”

kaveh ransacks through his head for the memory. he only remembers you warning him that you won’t be staying in sumeru forever when you first got together, and some drunken conversations. “i think so, yes. you said you’ll finish there. why? what brought this up?”

“i got accepted.” the last hairpin clicks into place. there are about six on his head. “i’ll be leaving soon.”

kaveh’s eyes brighten as he turns to you, expecting you to be thrilled, but you look nervous. you aren’t meeting his eyes.

“y/n,” kaveh says softly, holding your cheeks in his palms, “what’s wrong?”

“it’s in inazuma,” you say carefully. “and if i finish there and continue with my dream, i won’t really have… all the time to go back here.”

that’s too far, is what kaveh wants to say. he doesn’t, because he vividly remembers you saying you want to go everywhere someday, and who is he to bind you to him because he is selfish and needy? in the grand scheme of things, he is no one in your life.

“will you be alone?”

“no. i’ll be with anis, and i’ll have soraya come with me to liyue when the time comes. i won’t be alone.”

kaveh nods, easing a bit. “that’s good.”

kaveh must be wearing a pitiful expression if you scramble to speak again. “we can write each other letters,” you say weakly. “or i can send gifts…”

he thinks of his mother, leaving to fontaine, writing to him on occasion. he thinks of seeing his mother again after so long, seeing how happy she is, and he thinks about how he hadn’t seen her like that when kaveh was still living with her after his father’s death.

“and tie you down to me?” kaveh shakes his head. “don’t worry about me while you’re taking on the world. too many sights to see to think about me.”

your expression looks pained. “you’re not tying me down. i love you more than that.”

kaveh’s reply is instant. “enough to not leave?”

you wince, and kaveh curses himself, flinching away from holding your face to ball his fingers into fists beside him. “no, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean that, please ignore i said that. i’m sorry.”

“kaveh,” you say, and kaveh understands, more than anyone, what you’re thinking right now.

“i know.”

“kaveh, i—i’m sorry, i can’t… i don’t…”

“that’s okay,” kaveh says, “i’m glad you told me, really. no, look at me. i’m happy for you; you can be happy for yourself, too.” it feels like we had only gotten together yesterday, and it’s already falling apart.

this was divine intervention, telling him—no, reprimanding him, don’t think about it. don’t say anything else, you might as well ruin it more; toss it in quicksand, will you? this was them telling him that if things were to work out in his favor two times in a row, he’d regret it later.

kaveh takes a deep, shuddering breath. “i was planning on leaving, too. we’ve just graduated, we deserve a vacation.” he was hoping to take you with him, but only here he realizes how selfish it was. you warned him, too, so he can’t say you didn’t.

you seem relieved that he’s keeping a conversation. “really?”

“yes. just here in sumeru, though,” he says, sheepish. “you’ve set on something bigger, and i was already nervous about my choice.”

“you’ll be fine, kaveh.” you sound so sure. kaveh doesn’t know how you make it sound like you know him better than himself. “the world is so beautiful, and it can’t wait to see what part of it inspires you.”

at least, this time, he gets to say goodbye, and he gets to see you while he says it.

“so, that’s it?”

“don’t hold back because of me, kaveh,” you tell him. “if love finds its way back to you again, catch it and don’t feel sorry for me.”

kaveh wants to say it in return, but the best he can do is be selfish in silence. he doesn’t want you with anyone else that isn’t him—just thinking about it hurts him.

“i’ll come home someday,” you say. kaveh nods because he wants this promise to be real this time. “and maybe we can still be friends, if you’ll have me.”

this, kaveh realizes, is really what his father meant when he said to do the right thing, no matter what it costs you.

later, he invites tighnari, cyno, and al-haitham out for dinner.

and when they arrive at the table, the first thing kaveh says is, “i’ll be leaving next week.” his friends weren’t able to pry much from him, but they could figure it out on their own if they saw the list of the students going abroad.

things go on: too slow for kaveh’s liking, and a little unsteady from time to time, but when he pictures you living your life somewhere, he thinks he can’t let you beat him to it, so he tries his best.

it’s been a while since you last visited sumeru.

everything looks the same since you’ve last been here, but something feels different. it takes you a while to realize it’s the people walking about happily, and to you, it seems like something is missing from their ears.

you had already removed the akasha the moment you moved out, but it was still a little jarring to step into your homeland without it, and seeing people do the same. the two guards who were usually in charge of handing them out to tourists are gone from their place, too.

anis breathes in deeply, then exhales shakily. she had stayed in liyue for far longer than you had, habituated herself to it, but still, sumeru is where she looks right at home, with trees and shades of green surrounding her. “oh, how i missed this! no other region can beat the fresh and dewy air of sumeru, no matter how beautiful their architecture is.”

you nudge her. “you were the one complaining about having to leave mondstadt yesterday.”

anis scowls, huffing petulantly. “i was tired. and the goth grand hotel had funny guests. you spent all day picking windwheel asters—make a whole flower shop with them already, will you?”

“shh, don’t be so loud.” anis flails around until you free her mouth from your palm. she stares at you, scandalized. “no one is supposed to know i’m back yet.”

“you shouldn’t have come with me if that was the case, then,” anis says, and you two continue walking up the bridge of the palace of alcazarzaray.

“you were the one who begged me to.”

it’s been forever since you’ve last seen it—the pictures you took don’t compare to the real thing—and yet it feels like the first time all over again, with warmth pressed on your side and the back of your palm tingling from the feeling of someone’s lips kissing it a few seconds before.

your heart aches faintly.

anis takes note of your face with a contemplative hum. “then again, you probably missed the man behind this the most. you should be grateful that i even managed to commission him! everyone flocks to kaveh the moment they get the chance.”

“it’s because you’re also from his darshan,” you argue, embarrassed. just hearing his name makes your face heat up.

“and i’m the best friend of his ex—right, right.” anis yelps when you pinch her elbow, but it fades off into laughter soon enough. you smile, but only because her glee is as contagious as wild fungi.

passing by the palace of alcazarzaray and into a secluded hut right across it, you and anis continue catching up, recalling akademiya memories that both of you agreed never to bring up again. it was mostly groupmates you hope are still failing their darshan with their incompetence. you hear some people chiming in, telling you about how a traveler and your friends saved the entirety of sumeru. weird, but not entirely outlandish.

“al-haitham as the acting grand scribe?” anis gawks. you are probably wearing a similar expression. “what happened while we were gone?”

you sigh. “i wish i knew, too. i wish i knew.”

“oh, look!” anis gestures ahead, under a large tree that curves forward and casts enough shade for a whole garden. “that’s the place kaveh asked to meet me in. and if i’m not mistaken, that blond guy over there with the red cape…”

“oh,” you breathe.

you didn’t think kaveh could be prettier than he already was, and he was already turning heads back then. stripped off the akademiya’s uniform and into something he looks more like himself in: drop-dead elegant. you appreciate the slit on the back of his blouse. (he’s still wearing six red clips.)

anis elbows you. “you can back out. i’d rather you don’t because i know how much you missed him, but—”

“i won’t,” you say. not that you can bring yourself to turn back when kaveh is right there anyway.

“kaveh!” anis calls out; you purposefully slow your steps so you’re in her shadow, yet kaveh’s eyes still snap to yours right away.

“anis.” kaveh stands from the table clumsily, his eyes round in surprise. “...y/n. both of you are back?”

“hi, kaveh,” you greet with a wave. “you look good.” he does. too good for someone who’s currently standing a few feet away from his ex. it almost feels like revenge.

“you, too,” kaveh smiles, reluctant, “it’s been so long.”

“i like your new style, kaveh!” anis whistles appreciatively, and you want nothing more than to nod and pray kaveh doesn’t see the way you’re eyeing him. “suits you. a natural artist, even outside construction.”

“speaking of,” kaveh starts. you can’t help but notice that even when his client is right there, his eyes stray to you too often, and you’re starting to feel like some flustered teenager over it, “you’re a talented artist yourself, anis. it was a surprise to hear from you about this project.”

“i know i am, but who am i to waste the opportunity of taking advantage of my connections? i’m fortunate enough that you accepted right away.”

“of course. congratulations on the engagement, anis,” kaveh says sincerely, from one old friend to another.

“thank you.” anis smiles in return. “people in liyue were too charming. now here i am, with a ring on my finger.” she wiggles the fingers of her left hand for emphasis.

kaveh quirks a brow. “were they?”

anis grins slyly. “don’t worry, y/n wasn’t looking at all.”

you gape, incensed. “anis!”

kaveh hides a laugh behind his hand, and he’s only looking at you. “thanks for telling me.”

embarrassed, you duck your head and remind yourself that anis owes you a trip back to liyue for that. you can still feel kaveh’s stare on you, burning on your head.

mercifully, he does drop it, straightening his posture and looking more like sumeru’s most famous architect anis commissioned. you’re seeing what years and years have done to kaveh—it’s done him good. “before we get straight into it, would you tell me more about what you had in mind? along with your partner’s opinions, of course.”

and because anis is cruel and evil, she drags you along with it the entire time.

anis excuses herself to order water, saying her mouth is dry from all that talking and debating with kaveh over designs. you wonder how they even got along as group mates.

“the padisarah is clever,” you say, gaining more confidence when kaveh beams as you start the conversation. “i’m glad you learned to appreciate flora in your works. it’s perfect.”

“i’m grateful to the one who taught me all about its beauty,” he replies, eyes twinkling.

you laugh, trailing off stiffly, unsure what to say. so you don’t reply.

you want to ask him so many questions. how are you? i missed you. did you tailor this outfit yourself? you look good. do you hate me for leaving? because i do. yet looking at him, you find yourself speechless.

“where are you headed next after this?” kaveh asks, shifting his weight from one foot to another. it reminds you too much of what he used to do back in the akademiya.

“i’m not sure. i heard cyno’s in the desert right now, so i might head to gandharva ville first. say hi to al-haitham for me?”

kaveh’s expression falls. “yeah… yeah, of course. i’ll see you around.”

tighnari opens the door, his face melting in surprise. “y/n?”

“tighnari!” you greet with a bright smile, opening your arms for him. “surprise…?”

because tighnari was never really the most affectionate, he shuffles forward and lets you hug him with great difficulty. he mumbles, “since when have you returned to sumeru? you didn’t even tell me.”

“you need to be reminded of the definition of surprise, tighnari,” you laugh, stepping inside his house when he moves aside. a lot has changed in this one, brimming with more books and looking worn down than you last remember. there’s a bed on the corner, the blanket kept clean and tidy.

“have you met up with kaveh yet?”

“...of course i have.”

tighnari’s ear flicks, and he smiles knowingly. “he still loves you as much, you know.”

you grimace. is that really the first thing he’s going to talk about? tighnari was also never one to mince his words and spoonfeed it gently. “it’s been so long. you can’t assume something so absurd.”

“y/n,” tighnari says, returning to his table where he seems to be working on a concoction, “you weren’t there for when kaveh decided to leave for the desert. i’ve never seen him want to get so drunk that badly. he was just talking about you.”

you grimace. “oh.” you remember every word you’ve said clearly and his expressions that keep you up on lonely nights. “that just proves my point.”

“no. he was moping, sure. but the alcohol in his system made him all the more honest. he was just talking about you.” tighnari crushes leaves in his bowl, eyes flicking up to meet your nervous ones. “reverently, almost. like you never broke up.”

“years ago, tighnari,” you remind, face hot.

“he’s always been the most romantic one out of the four of us.”

you let the silence settle for a few moments as your thoughts wander, back to kaveh and back to the windwheel asters you kept on a pot and carried as is to sumeru. it’s never been that easy.

“well, i didn’t come here for a pep talk,” you say, clearing your throat. “is that the waterproofing oil you’ve been working on since back then? it looks much smoother than before.”

tighnari grins. “i’ve learned a lot, and i know so have you. from one amurta graduate to another, surely you know what i mean?”

he talks you through what he’s been doing for the past years. it feels like you’ve gone through a lifetime without them, but that’s coming from you, who was convinced that you wouldn’t be returning at all. if tighnari notices that your mind is far off elsewhere, he generously doesn’t comment on it.

you aren’t needed at all, yet anis still takes you to the next meeting, where kaveh will reveal his first proposal. you remind anis of this, but she only replies with:

“don’t give me that. kaveh was the one who asked to bring you along.”

you rolled your eyes at that because not even you would believe her.

but still, you come along because these quick meetings give you a chance to see kaveh without having to come up with a half-baked excuse. you’ll treasure these few days before you eventually have to see him again when tighnari—or cyno, or maybe even al-haitham—gets tired of this unbearable push and pull and forces a date. and things go south because kaveh will say he’s been happier without you, and you travel back to another region, heartbroken.

…at least that’s what you were expecting. kaveh usually hasn’t gone on for this long when dealing with clients, and both he and anis know what they’re doing. what’s more surprising than that is anis takes it all in stride, which doesn’t appease your confusion.

it’s the fifth day. usually, kaveh would be working on the building itself by now. (times change, you remind yourself, you don’t know him anymore.)

anis looks over kaveh’s nth proposal, huffing in what could almost be discerned as amusement. “oh, dear.”

you don’t see anything wrong with it. “it looks good to me…”

anis pinches your cheek, making you frown. “please, y/n. do me a favor and just ask him out already. all this hopeless pining is wearing down on his creativity.”

your face burns. “he’s my ex, anis! isn’t there an unspoken rule not to get back together with your ex?”

anis scoffs. “that rule doesn’t apply when both of you don’t act like exes in the first place.”

“i told him that if i got back, we can still be friends, that’s why…” you argue weakly.

“friends? you’re not fooling anyone, especially yourself.”

you sit under the stars and wonder if you ever went wrong, or if you’re slowly going back to the right path. you don’t regret leaving sumeru and exploring the world, but you regret ending things with kaveh like that. taking on the world had been so lonely thinking about him being happy with someone else. others from the regions you’ve visited tried their hand at pursuing you, but you’re too desperate to see blond hair and red eyes in them to let them in.

is this the right thing? being friends is better than being nothing, right?

kaveh appears from the entrance, looking around briefly before eventually—like it always does—his eyes land on you. “y/n? anis said you called for me.”

you smile at him. “yeah, i did.”

he steps forward and stops there, looking like a wary shroomboar against an armed ranger. you sigh, setting the pot aside and patting the empty space next to you. kaveh follows, sitting on the edge.

“are you scared of me, kaveh?”

“i don’t know what i can do,” he admits, and your expression eases.

you pick the pot up and place it carefully on his lap. kaveh’s hands fly out to catch it when it loses balance, brushing his hands against yours. maybe you shouldn’t be doing this sober

“a windwheel aster, for you.” you hold a finger in front of his face, feeling around in your bag to reveal another one, more crumpled and less alive than the one on kaveh’s lap, but it still spins when you blow on it. “and, uh—here, let me.”

kaveh closes his eyes when you lean in. (you’re not sure if it’s instinct.) you tuck it behind his ear, unable to help your grin when you pull away, and the breeze that catches on it makes the petals turn.

“i was right,” you say. “they look good with your eyes.”

“that’s cruel, y/n.”

your stomach drops, flinching away. you wring your hands on your lap, too ashamed to gaze at him directly. “i’m sorry, you probably didn’t—i shouldn’t have—”

kaveh reaches for your wrist, looking heartbroken. he kisses your palm, your wrist, and it’s then you realize that he’s not upset at you, but at himself. “y/n. i thought you wanted me to go easy on me and leave forever.”

“would it have been easier for you?”

“not unless you still want me to confess to you like we’re back in the akademiya, and i’m distressingly in debt.”

“aren’t you still distressingly in debt?”

kaveh breathes in the air shared between the two of you, face twisted in a way that looks like he’s barely holding back from smothering your face with kisses. “y/n, please.”

he still loves you as much, you know.

breathing hitching, you ask, “do you know what you’re saying…?”

“fate brought us together again. surely you don’t think i’ll be blind to another chance gifted to me?”

ah. tighnari is never wrong.

well, you should’ve known. you never could’ve been just friends with kaveh, not when he’s looking at you like you were never gone, and you still thought about him every night when you were.

“we can try, again,” you say. “you and i.”

“again,” kaveh agrees. “i won’t let you go this time.”

( you see kaveh there with dark bags under his eyes and his grip trembling slightly as it cuts across the page in something beyond a confident stroke—more so angry, barely held in, brimming and ready to spill.

students who pass by whisper to themselves and stare at him longer than they should’ve, but he doesn’t seem to care—or rather, doesn’t even notice that he’s in a public space. his eyes are trained on the stack of papers in front of him, eyes aflame.

anis notices your fond gaze and smirks.

she says aloud, “having this kshahrewar genius seek you out so constantly… i can’t even imagine—i’ve heard enough from my peers talking about how they regret not getting a chance to speak with him.”

“i don’t see how it’s my fault that kaveh didn’t want to entertain them.”

anis chortles. “oh, no wonder why he likes you so much.”

the collar of your uniform feels stiflingly hot all of a sudden. you hide what must be a pinched expression with a glare. “it’s not like that. it’s not.”

“you won’t be able to fight against it if it’s your fate.” anis throws an arm over your shoulder. “you should be thankful i followed your plan and made him notice you. now you’re inseparable! ah, love.” )

a/n i have never written this much before so art i hope u like it (and u owe me a xiao fic for this) <33333 but also this was actually rlly fun to write (if not for the fact that i hated writing it halfway the same reason i avoid writing long fics) rbs and comments fuel me!! ty for reading!!

#606:GENSHIN #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x you

[straydog733]

I just need to share with you one of the stupidest writing choices I've seen in a long time.

(Spoilers for The Gilded Age S2 Premiere)

-/-

-/-

So The Gilded Age is not a good show, but it's a not-good show that I'm going to watch every second of. It's by the guy who made Downton Abbey, leaning into all his worst habits, and it's trash in incredibly tacky outfits. But anyway, in Season 1, they have this character named Peggy. She's a young woman, from a Black Elite family in New York, ambitions to be a journalist, but also some mysterious secret that she's keeping all season. It's eventually dribbled out that she had a baby who died at birth, but when someone tries to blackmail her for her scandalous past, turns out she was married at the time (to a lower class man her father didn't approve of, but married nonetheless), so she can be pitied, not scorned. After the baby died, her father paid her husband to fuck off and annul the marriage. This was a few years ago, and Peggy has been trying to find the midwife who delivered her stillborn, to talk to her and get a bit of closure.

PSYCH, BABY'S ALIVE! Her father paid the midwife (what must have been an absurd amount of money) to kidnap his grandson, foist him off to another family, and tell Peggy her baby died. The first season ends with her and her mother heading off on an adventure to find and reunite with her boy.

So this plot was very unpopular and got the show a lot of criticism. It was boring, it was a scandal with all the scandal removed, it was a retread of a Downton plot, and it took Peggy away from the actually interesting stuff about New York black high society and black journalism at the turn of the century. So how best to respond to these criticisms in the premiere of Season 2?

PSYCH, BABY'S DEAD AGAIN! We start the season after a time skip, in which time Peggy has managed to track down her three year old son, gotten in contact with his family, and almost reunited with him...only to learn he died of scarlet fever six months ago. The season starts with them having learned this a bit ago and already in mourning, because the show creator refuses to put anything interesting on screen, and by the end of the episode she is determined to leave her parents' home again and basically return to her non-baby Season 1 plot. 

And I just can't get over the fact that they double-killed her baby. I get wanting to write out this stupid plot, but there are ways to do it that don't feel like a shaggy dog story and bury a vibrant character in mourning for the season premiere! 

Andrea and I have been plotting alternatives, and it would have been SO easy: have her meet the kid, realize he's a happy toddler with a loving family, and that she doesn't want to tear him away from that to be a single mother (which a character on Downton did twice with the same baby, so you'd even be attoning for a previous sin!). "Oh my darling son, I am glad to know you, and I will make you proud of your mother's accomplishments as I take the publishing world by storm!" Then you never have to show the kid again, can throw in a line every now and then about her visiting, and she can still do her fun plotline! Boom, fixed it!

It is all just brain-bendingly stupid and I needed to ramble and share the joy. And as a reward for getting to the end, have a ridiculous costume photo of an unrelated character:

#the gilded age #downton abbey #julian fellows #they double-killed her baby

[starlightshadowsworld]

Five nights at Freddy’s but it's Batman.

If you were expecting this to make sense....Don't.

I started ranting about this while half asleep.

I'm not following any time line just game order.

Also we're skipping fnaf 2.

Barbara Gordon is Charlotte "Charlie" Emily.

She is killed by Joe Chill aka the Joker aka William Afton aka the Purple Guy.

Her father, Jim Gordon aka Henry Emily is devastated. He has no idea how this occurred.

Not a clue.

Totally didn't see the purple car at the crime scene.

A purple car he sees every morning.

... Nope.

He goes to the cops but it's Gotham so they don't do shit.

However, because it's Gotham Batman shows up to help.

But unfortunately no one knows who killed poor Babs so gotta do some investigating.

Also there's been a string of dissappearances around the restaurant.

People are loving calling it "the missing children's incident."

And the cops are doing nothing so Batman is also investigating that and wonders if the two are connected.

Bat's makes the great decision to go undercover as a nighttime security guard.

And despite the fact he is very clearly billionaire Bruce Wayne in a security uniform.

No one recognises him.

He is now Mike Schmidt.

... You know still a better name for his cover than Matches Malone.

And because I recently watched Batman: The Doom that came to Gotham.

Great, one of the weirdest things I've ever watched.

... Don't watch it if you like Talia because... Yikes.

Anyway, so Bruce is very much on his fear works because villians are superstitious and cowardly.

I don't believe in magic, everything can be explained by science.

...And than Golden Freddy bursts into the office.

Had to rework a few things than.

It takes him less than 5 nights to figure it all out.

Beats the shit out of and gets Joe Chill arrested.

But it's Gotham and FNAF so it doesn't even go that far.

Not that they know for years later.

During this time Bruce adopts another kid, Jason.

Yeah Dick is here but he left to another city.

He's officially the smart one.

No he doesn't have a character equivalent he's just... There.

Jason however later turns out to be Jason Chill aka the son of Joe Chill.

Aka this worlds Michael Afton.

Gets wind his real father isnt Willis Todd but Joe Chill.

Goes after him, despite him being in hiding for years.

Does this by working at Fazbear Frights as a nighttime security guard.

Witnesses Joe Chill destroying the animatronics.

Releasing the spirits and causing Joe Chill to back into his Spring lock suite.

Multiple springlock failures occure.

Jason gets on tape that he's the murderer and killed Barbara Gordon.

Bruce and Jim show up and together they set the place on fire with Joe Chill's body inside.

But no body is ever found.

One of the old locations starts up again.

Bruce finds out Joe Chill had another son, and adopts him.

Leaving out the whole... We set him on fire.. Maybe.

This kid is Tim Chill aka the crying child.

Who Jason likes to mess with and Tim messes with him back in turn.

Jason plays a seemingly harmless prank on Tim... That he ends up taking too far.

And in his defence no one knew that the Golden Freddy animatronic had the jaw strength of a shark.

Bruce goes into mourning.

The body goes missing.

Jason wanting to fix things does his own investigation and finds Circus Baby's entertainment and rentals.

Ran by Chill robotics.

Turns out Joe Chill decided to literally put his child back together.

And infused Baby with his remnant.

His lil clown.

Though both sides of Tim, both Joker Jr and the brother of Jason fight over Jason's fate.

Whether he should live or die.

Joker Jr I mean Baby wins and Jason is scooped.

Dick, who was staying in Gotham for Tim's funeral, realises Jason has gone missing.

And goes out to search for him.

Finding the his brother now a disturbing shade of purple and an undead zombie.

Gets Jason back home, Jason is basically catatonic only repeating "You won't die, you won't die" over and over.

Bruce gives him a big hug, apologising for blaming Jason and pushing him away.

Though Jason is convinced Tim's fate is his fault.

He ends up puking up Ennard, which Bruce captures and puts in the Batcave.

They take what's left of Baby and upload Tim's consciousness to a robotic version of him Jim just... Had on hand.

Along with a robot Barbara.

... Yeah don't, don't worry about it.

Jason apologises profusely, Tim calls him a dumbass, things are finally right with the world.

Butt this isn't enough for Jim who realises an animatronic can't replace his Barbara.

Decides if I can't have my happy ending none of you can.

Has a redo birthday party for Tim and sets the place on fire.

... Except it does literally nothing and Bruce shoves him in Arkham and just takes Babs back with him.

Way to go smart guy.

Damian Wayne aka Gregory shows up at some point. He got told he couldn't go to the pizzaplex.

And went anyway.

Gave everyone a heart attack, stole Glamrock Freddy and made a friend in Cassandra Cain aka Vanessa.

A trained assassin who Joe Chill was trying to hypnotise into killing for him.

They tried to kill each other if the cause of a night so they're friends now.

Bruce adopts another child all is well with the world.

Until Jonathan Kent aka Cassie shows up because of a fake message luring him to the pizzaplex saying Damian was in danger.

The mimic gets it's butt kicked, Bruce lectures Clark about not keeping an eye on his son.

The hypocrite.

And everyone goes home.

Oh and Jim and his wife got divorced when Babs died.

His wife taking and raising their son, James Gordon Jr aka Sammy Emily.

Who's just off living life and is still a serial killer.

Soo... Yeah.

... Idk what this is but it exists now.

#five nights at freddy's #Idk #Batman #DC #bruce wayne #jason todd #the joker #michael afton #tim drake #joker jr #baby fnaf #barbara gordon #jim gordon #charlotte emily #charlie emily #william afton #damian wayne #fnaf gregory #dick grayson #cassandra cain #vanessa fnaf #Long post #jonathan kent

[jakesduskwood]

take me by the hand

Pairing: Jake x Fem!MC

Genre: Hurt / Comfort, Post-Episode 10

Summary: Following the reveal of The Man Without The Face, MC is a little too worried about Jake. So she does the only reasonable thing she can think of. Heads to Duskwood to find him.

EPISODE-10 SPOILERS AHEAD!

[ A/N: Hello :)

I just started this blog to talk about my love for Jake / post fanfics I might have written after / during my playthrough of Duskwood. So if you would like to talk about the game / Episode 10 / theories / anything at all, feel free to send me a message / ask :)

Anyway, this is a fanfic I wrote Post-Episode 10. ]

I love you.

The realization hit me a little later than it probably should have, but I did. I loved Jake. Perhaps I knew before. No. I definitely knew before. Jake had told me he didn’t trust easily. He hadn’t. Not until me. Even then, it took time to break down his walls. Get him to trust me. Enough to tell me his name. That Hannah and Lilly were his sisters. His whereabouts. That he loved me.

What if that was the last thing we said to each other?

After everything—everything we’d been through, after Richy, after Jake’s promise to meet me in Duskwood when all of this was over—we were so close. So close. We had risked too much for it to end like this. He had protected me too much. And if—if he didn’t make it out of there, I would have nobody to blame but myself. After all, he had gone into the mine in my place. Gone into the mine to find Hannah, but Alan found Hannah and Jake was—No. I couldn’t think like that. It had only been minutes. Minutes since I’d heard Richy tell Jessy he’d been the MWAF. Minutes since Jessy’s cries had died down in my head. Since my own cries had died down.

Richy. Who I’d considered a friend. Who I’d mourned when he died. Who I’d told to go comfort Jessy when she was attacked by the Man Without A Face. Who I’d like I was responsible for. If I had only begged him a little harder not to go into the woods—but no. No. He was the one behind it all. He was the one who had kidnapped Hannah. Who drove Amy to her death. Who lied to the people who trusted him. Who betrayed us. And now—

Suddenly, a message on my phone came through.

CLEO: Richy’s dead.

My heart skipped a beat.

DAN: What?

CLEO: There was a fire. Explosion.

CLEO: Suicide, they think.

I leaned my head back against the wall. Richy was dead. I didn’t know how to feel. I didn’t know if I wanted him to make it. If I thought it’d be easier. He had asked if I believed he was sorry, but my answer remained the same. I didn’t know. I didn’t think I could forgive him either way. But I did care about him. I did consider him a friend.

Jake.

My head snapped up. Jake was in the mine. Well, maybe. He told me he would text me when he made it out. My phone showed he was still offline. No time to panic. He would be nowhere near Richy. But—Jake was the one who told me the mine was in danger of collapsing. And even if he made it out, who was to say he wouldn’t be caught the minute he did? Alan was right. There was no way the FBI were there for Hannah. And they had probably placed men at every exit. He had promised me he wouldn’t be caught, but how sure could he be? How could he possibly know the next move they’d make when he was trapped in a crumbling mine with no phone service. A stray tear slipped down my face. If Jake didn’t make it—I would bring Richy back to kill him myself.

Your fault, my head screamed.

I love you.

I love you, too.

“Come on, Jake.” I whispered harshly. “Don’t do this to me.”

Jake is offline.

Shit.

Maybe it had only been a few minutes, but it felt like hours. Felt like he should have been out of that mine already. Felt like he should have been texting me to reassure me he was fine. That he’d made it out. That they hadn’t caught him and that we would see each other soon.

I needed to see him.

I needed him to take me into his arms and reassure me the way I had wanted him to since we had first started this thing. Sure, at first, he was a little suspicious. Maybe suspicious wasn’t the right word to use. Just…cautious. Like he didn’t trust people. But I had broken down his walls. Gotten to know him. Gotten to fall in love with him. I didn’t care that I didn’t know what he looked like or that I’d never heard his voice or that he was wanted by the government. I’d fallen in love with him—with who he was.

And he loved me back.

Well. Apparently, Jake didn’t know one thing about me. It would only take a few hours for me to get to Duskwood. I’d looked it up on my maps at the start of all of this—before Jake had begged me not to go. He would probably be mad at me. It didn’t matter. His life was in danger. That was something worth breaking a promise for. Besides, if I got to see him—I would take his anger and frustration with a smile. Kiss it off of his face.

I took a deep breath and texted the group back.

ME: They haven’t found anybody else, have they?

LILLY: No, [MC].

I didn’t know whether to be relieved or cry.

Well.

Forgive me, Jake.

But I’m going to Duskwood a bit early.

———————————————————————

The road to the Grimrock Waterfall was crawling with numbers of police. The aftermath was still fresh. I assumed Hannah was long gone, probably settled into the hospital with her friends by her side. I’d visit her eventually. Maybe I’d figure out how I knew her. If I even did. Perhaps she had sent the wrong number. Maybe Richy had set us up. Maybe I would just have to live with the not knowing.

It didn’t matter, anyway.

Hannah was safe. Richy was dead. If I repeated it enough times in my head, maybe I could make it sound true. Make the nightmare we’ve been living in go away. Maybe I wouldn’t have to look over my shoulder every five seconds, wondering if someone was watching me. If I would be the next victim. Maybe we would be free to live now.

I could have been in there. In the mine. Blindly feeling my way around. Maybe I would have met Richy at the waterfall. And then…would he have killed me? Maybe I would’ve seen his face and he would’ve taken me hostage too. Drugged me and put me on a never-ending video loop to play for Jake and the others.

A figure caught my eye by one of the trees. My breath hitched for a split second until I realized it wasn’t who I thought it was. But it was somebody. I made my way over, stuffing my hands in the pockets of my sweater. For late-May, it was surprisingly cool outside.

“Thought you’d be at the hospital.”

The figure turned. Wheels squeaked underneath him. “Too many people right now. Figured that I would…” He motioned down at the wheelchair. “This was as far as I could go. Think they would kill me for tryin’ to go further anyway. What are you doing here?”

I shook my head. “Don’t know yet.”

“I don’t know if I believe it.” Dan shook his head. “Richy. Didn’t think he could hurt anyone. To know that…and I was the one who—”

“You can’t think like that.” I responded. “Dan, he would’ve hurt somebody. You were just doing what you thought was best. Nobody can blame you for that. Besides, he had plenty of time to get help before he died. He did this to himself.”

He hummed. “Maybe.”

“How’s Jessy?”

“Went to the hospital with the others. She wanted to be alone, but I don’t think anyone was ready to let her. They were close, you know. Always felt like I had to compete with him for her. I think she would have picked him in the end.”

“She cares about you, Dan.” I promised. Then, after a minute: “And Hannah?”

“Thomas said she’s as okay as she can be. Think she’s more in shock than injured. To be held by someone you trusted, someone you considered a friend, that’s rough. It’ll take time. I think she’s also dealing with the fact that everyone knows about Jennifer now.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I reminded him. “It doesn’t make what Richy did right.”

“Yeah.” He shrugged. “You think he’s still here?”

“I don’t know where he is,” I answered. “He said he would let me know when he was out. It says he’s been offline for hours but…I don’t know.”

“You plan on staying here?”

I shrugged. “Probably, at least for the night. Guess we’ll see where it gets us. Don’t think I could sleep much either way. I still feel like I’m being watched. Like Michael’s going to turn up at any moment and say it was all a joke. That it was him.”

“I think that would be too easy.”

I smiled weakly. “Probably.” My smile faded. “Dan? I’m sorry, about—”

“I shouldn’t have asked.” He waved a hand. “I know I’m not the first person to. I knew you were involved with Hackerman. Just hoped you weren’t. But it makes sense. The truth is, I don’t have a reason to dislike him. Just think you could do better than a life like that.”

“I have my demons too, Dan.” I told him. “Besides—I think I would go anywhere in the world if it was with him. We can still have that movie night, though.”

He grinned. “I look forward to it.”

“I don’t know why I came,” I crossed my arms over my chest and rubbed them, suddenly feeling like an idiot. “He’s not coming out here, no matter what. There’s cops everywhere. I just thought he would text me and I could find him or—sounds like one of those stupid romcom movies now that I think about it.”

“Maybe stupid romcoms are your thing.”

“No, they’re not.” I laughed.

“Maybe they are,” He said again. “Don’t you wonder something?”

“You’re going to have to be more specific.”

He looked up at me. “That guy over there’s been glaring at us for ten minutes.”

My heart skipped a beat. My head snapped up to where Dan’s head was tilted toward the edge of the woods. There was a figure, hidden just enough that you wouldn’t be able to see them without actually looking for them. Their dark attire blended into the trees. Their face was tilted down and hidden beneath their black hood. Still, I could tell that Dan was right. Their posture was rigid and stiff. Turned toward us like they were unhappy. At first, I thought it was Michael, maybe coming to laugh and tell us that it was him all along, that he had framed and killed Richy and that he was coming to kill me next.

But then my phone buzzed.

Jake is online.

No. No way. All of the emotion I felt inside of me came bursting out at once. Tears poured down my face no matter how furiously I wiped at them. Jake was alive. He was alive. And Hannah was safe. And Richy was dead. Richy was the MWAF. Michael wasn’t coming back from the dead to tell us it was him. And I hadn’t cried about that yet. No. I had. I had cried while I was on the call with Richy. Watching him bleed out from a gunshot wound. I’d cried as I watched Jessy come to terms with the realization. I’d cried when I realized I didn’t know if Jake was okay or captured or if he was dead and I would never see him again. I cried during all of it.

But not like this. I hadn’t felt my limbs shake with each gasping breath as I realized that my final words to Richy had been nothing but resentment. As I realized just how serious the situation was and that never seeing Jake again was an actual possibility. And yet—here he was. And that made me sob harder. The guy who loved me was standing there, and all I could think to do was cry and shake because drawing attention to him would cause them to find him and I could not handle that when I just got him back.

“Please do not pass out on me.” Dan warned. “It’ll be really hard to catch you.”

Somehow, that made me feel worse. I sniffled and wiped at my eyes, feeling incredibly weak and stupid for someone who just realized the guy she’d drove two hours to see was actually alive and not dead. My phone buzzed in my hand.

JAKE: I told you I would contact you when I got out.

JAKE: Please do not cry.

I snorted slightly. Yet—it gave me more comfort than anything had in a long time. To know that we did it. That we found the culprit. Sure, it was someone we trusted, and sure, we lost someone we considered a friend tonight, but it was over.

JAKE: Come here.

I looked down at my phone and then back at the hooded figure. I didn’t want to risk it, but when I saw him take a step toward me, I gave in and hurried toward him without even a quick goodbye to Dan. It was okay. He’d understand. I plowed into the figure at full force, nearly knocking him off of his feet and burying my face in his neck.

He was the perfect height. The kind where my head fit perfectly against him, where I could hear his pounding heart against my own, feel his face buried in my hair. I probably looked a mess but I didn’t care. I tightened my grip around him, burying my tears in his hoodie and soaking it with my face.

“Jake—”

“It’s okay,” he whispered back.

Oh. His voice was soothing. The kind you could fall asleep to. The kind you knew you were safe around. He kissed the top of my head and I melted. I remembered when I watched Richy die, the first time. I told Jake I wished he could take me in his arms. Much like he’d done now that Richy was actually gone.

I pulled back to look at him, reaching up to cup my hands around his cheeks. He moved his head to look at me and I got a glimpse of him for the first time. And—hell—he was handsome. I knew he would be but seeing it for myself was a whole different experience. The moon reflected off of his face and lit up his eyes, the soft reflection in them that gave me butterflies like I was back in school again. He gave me a soft smile.

“Hi,” He whispered.

I smiled. “You kept your promise.”

“I told you I would.”

I tightened myself around him again. Like, maybe, now that he was here, all my worries could go away. It didn’t work. Still, it was a nice thought.

“Did you read the group messages?”

He shook his head. “Haven’t had the time.”

“Richy’s dead.”

His hands around me stilled. “Oh. [MC], I am so sorry.”

“Jake, we were wrong.” The words felt weird on my tongue. “Michael wasn’t the MWAF. It was Richy. He—he kidnapped Hannah.”

“What?”

I shook my head. “I don’t feel as relieved as I should.”

He pressed another kiss to the top of my head. “I’m here now.”

“Will you tell me again?” I begged.

“Tell you what?”

I pulled back to whack him lightly across the chest. “You know what,” I told him softly. “I have to hear you say it.”

“I love you.” He tilted my chin up so he could press our lips together. It was short and sweet and made me crave more. There would be time for that later. “I would do anything for you.”

“Yeah, we have to talk about that.” I warned him. “We’re going to have to compromise. I cannot have you risking your life for me whenever you feel like it.” He laughed softly.

“We’ll talk about it.” He hummed. “So, you still want a life with me?”

I smiled. “Jake?”

“Hm.”

“I love you, too.”

#duskwood #duskwood everbyte #duskwood game #everbyte studios #duskwood jake #jake x mc #duskwood fanfiction #jake duskwood #mc duskwood #duskwood jake x mc #duskwood mc

[dalishthunder]

Throw a Dart at the Map (p1)

Pairing: Nebarra/LDB (Gender Neutral Reader) Rating: Mature Words: 1131 Additional Info: Pining... Fluff and pining, Takes place after "Honor and Glory", Takes place during the Island Quest

During the Great War, there had always been a twinge of sadness when the battle ended. Whether the skirmish was won or lost, there were dead to count and name. Letters to write... and no time to mourn.

After Nebarra had begun mercenary work, that had shifted to a disappointment that his bloodlust could not be fully sated. The battle ended before he'd barely wet his blade.

And now... it was more relief. Relief and the wanting to see that furiosity and passion on your face longer. More often. It was odd to think that he'd been traveling with you for over a year now. But he wasn't about to ask you to bed just to see your expressions or passion between battles. You certainly didn't feel that way about him anyway. You were Skyrim's darling. The most eligible person in the entire province and even other parts of Tamriel....

Oh, Old Soldier...

He looked over to where you stood at the bow, cold sea air whipping all around, wreathed in the glow of the auroras above. There was something so wild and serene about it... about you.

It was the first time he'd gotten to be alone with you in probably close to a month. He wasn't even quite sure why you'd volunteered to come out here with him just to make a bit of coin.

Probably needed a break from all the pomp and circumstance.

Before he knew it, he'd made it to your side, leaning against the railing, shoulder bumping against yours as the waves rocked the ship.

You gave him a smile, eyes tired, haunting in the soft green glow, before leaning against him.

"You know..." He started after a long, long while, "We can go anywhere we want to now...."

A laugh bubbled from your throat like champagne, "We? You mean you're not sick of me yet?"

"Never said that." He almost wished you could see his grin. "But as far as traveling companions go, I supposed I could do worse. And someone needs to make sure you don't get yourself killed doing something irrationally stupid."

"That someone is Xelzaz.... For both of us."

"He does have a better head on his shoulders than most, I'll give him that."

You chuckled, and after a moment, you asked, "Where would you like to go?"

Home.

"Somewhere warm."

He wasn't quite sure if it was a good idea to bring you to the Isles. The Thalmor had started to show... interest in your activities, and bringing you into the den of serpents as it were would be unwise. No matter how certain he was that you would get along well with his brother. His parents....

Gods what a dumb turn of thought. You could absolutely not meet his parents.

Ever.

How much wine had he had already?

Not enough.

You straightened up, turning around so your back was against the railing and you could look at him. Your smile was intoxicating. "Alright. I'm down for that. I'm kind of interested in seeing the Sea of Pearl. Maybe Topal Bay?"

"Ohohoho, look who's been brushing up on geography. And here I thought I'd be able to mock you forever for being a dullard."

You gave him a halfhearted shove. "Sorry, been too busy saving the whole world to know every world detail up to your standard."

"Excuses don't look good on you, my dear Dragonborn."

You rolled your eyes. "So, it's settled then?"

"That you'd a dullard?"

"No!" You smacked him on the shoulder, and he just snickered. "That after everything's over we're setting sail for the Sea of Pearl."

His heart skipped a beat. "Yeah, it's settled. Once this whole mess has been dealt with, we're going south and getting some good wine. Something full-bodied. Actually, have you ever tried metheglin?"

You shook your head.

"We'll have to get some when we head south."

"What's it taste like?"

"It's a honey liquor. I haven't had any in ages.... There was a small town near where I grew up that made the best lemon infused metheglin. Last time I had it was the night before I was shipped off. Let me tell you the hangover while I was signing away my life to The Dominion was probably the worst one I've ever had." He let out a breathy chuckle. "I thought I was going to vomit over the poor hag's shoes." You laughed again, "You'll have to show me sometime."

"Maybe after the Sea of Pearl and Topal Bay."

"I'm holding you to it."

"I said maybe."

"Too late, you've already gotten my hopes up, Nebbadiah." Your smile was infectious, and as he realized the way he'd been leaning in, he was very, very glad for his helmet. He was sure kissing you was one of the dumbest ideas that had ever cursed his mind.

"Bad idea...."

"Oh..." Your smile faltered. "Yeah... sorry, that was a silly idea. The Thalmor don't really like me... no need to stir the pot even more by going into the heart of The Dominion...."

"On my oath, I will protect you if we ever do. Besides, if I'm going to retire on Auridon and buy a vineyard, the Thalmor had best get used to you or have a blade shoved through their gut."

It was difficult to make out in the dim green light, but he was pretty sure your cheeks flushed... or perhaps it was wishful thinking. And then you headbutted his shoulder. "What's the point of retiring if we can't relax."

We.

Yes, he was very glad for his helmet.

"Hmmm... I suppose we could settle for southern Cyrodil instead if we really have to." He drawled.

We.

Your forehead was still pressed into his armor. He was afraid if he moved, the mood would shatter; That nebulous future together fade on the wind....

"I think I want to travel a lot more before I retire."

"We've still got plenty of time left." After all, you were supposed to be the avatar of Talos or some such nonesense that the nords had made up. And as much as he liked to complain, Nebarra wasn't even technically middle aged.

"We've still gotta get Xelzaz to Highrock.... And figure out what happened to Lucifer."

He rolled his eyes, of course you'd have to bring them up while he was trying to live in some stupid little fantasy. He looked out over the horizon, spotting a small island. Someplace to dock for the night and potentially hide the boat until he needed it again.

Because as much as he'd like to believe the wine, and talk about sailing away or settling down together, he needed to live in the real world. So, reluctantly he pulled away.

"Yes, well, like I said, plenty of time."

#nebarra #nebarra skyrim #skyrim #custom voiced followers #thunderous applesauce #odt #I know I'm writing a lot for him #I am sorry.... It will happen again #Throw a dart at the map

[look-at-the-soul]

Look at the soul- Tacos Night for the birthday girl

Series master list

🥳🎂 Happy birthday Flor @raincoffeeandfandoms !!! Wishing you all the best! As part of your celebration I decided to make this part of a special short edition for my series LATS with my OC, Marianne… so what a better way to celebrate than a tacos night out? 🥰🥳✨♥️

“I’m going to skip our Taco Thursday Night.” Lee announced as soon as she walked into Marianne’s dressing room, like always she was either reading the script, doing homework or working.

“Nooo, why?”

“Because a friend is celebrating her birthday today and she’s by herself, I don’t want her to be alone.”

“No, of course not…” She wouldn’t want to be on her own on a date like that. “Why don’t you invite her over? If she doesn’t mind of course, I don’t think Heidi would object either.”

Lee chuckled. “Object? Who are you? Cillian, you two spend so much time together that you’re even starting to speak the same.”

“Hey remember my brain thinks in English and Spanish at the same time.” Marianne answered to Lee’s teasing.

“Speaking of Spanish, let me text Flor… you know what would be good? Maybe we should invite a couple of male friends, it’s time you get someone.”

“No. Why?” Marianne shook her head.

Lee took the chair in front of the big mirror to apply some blush on her cheeks. “There’s nothing wrong in that, maybe you meet someone special here. I really don’t understand why you didn’t like Rowan, he’s a cool guy.”

“You mentioned he likes to hunt, I’m against it… and he is younger than me anyways. No thanks.” Marianne caught her reflection in the mirror, deciding to add some blush as well.

“Being twenty eight it’s not a big deal.”

Again there was a shaking head. “I’ll pass.”

“Okay, how about Patrick? Works in IT and he loves the gym.” Lee had her hopes up, showing her a photo.

“I think he’s already in a relationship with the gym.” Marianne answered with a smile.

“You know what? You’re impossible, I tried to match you with Dylan and you said no because he’s a workaholic. I’m making a cast to find Mr. Perfect for Marianne.”

She giggled, surprised by her friend’s eagerness to match her with someone.

“Unless…” Lee’s eyes sparkled.

“Oh God I’m scared now.”

“Cillian is available and he’s handsome.”

“Lee…” Marianne added with a warning tone looking at the door, scared someone might hear.

Lee waved her hand, “he’s a widower remember? And he’s smart and a gentleman… and handsome.” She repeated, making Marianne blush.

“From all of the people…”

“Oh, stop it he’s the best candidate for you.”

“He lost his wife, he’s mourning.” Marianne crossed her arms.

“And that’s what makes him perfect, there’s no toxic ex wife to deal with.” Lee added with a smirk.

Marianne gave her a shocked look.

“Don’t look at me like that, she can’t come and hunt you down,” Lee raised her hand, “you already know me, I’m the bad influence from the two of us.”

First, Marianne gasped at the bold comment but she was used now to Lee’s funny and dark sense of humor. Mortified, Marianne played with her hair. “He’d nn-ever look at me as a woman.”

“How can you be so sure? Maybe if you flirt a litt-”

A knock on the door interrupted their talk, as the door opened, Cillian’s face appeared smiling.

Marianne gave him a nervous smile, pretending to focus on Lee’s hair.

“Hey there! Come in.” Lee invited him, then looking at her friend, she winked. “Could you do me a French braid?”

“I thought you were gone.” Cillian joined them, taking the couch, completely oblivious of their previous chat.

“No, she was waiting for you.” Lee replied him, feeling Marianne pull slightly at her hair as a pleading to stop.

“Sorry, there was a knot.” Marianne lied, stealing a quick glance in Cillian’s direction.

“Have you decided yet on the proposal?” Cillian asked casually.

Turning the chair around, Lee looked at him with a wide smile, asking to know about it.

“Asked her to appear in a music video I’m filming next week.”

“Of course! She says yes!” Lee answered excited.

Cillian laughed and looked at Marianne. “What happened with your tests?”

She cleared her throat, feeling her head spinning and heart hammering.

“Scheduled in two more weeks.”

“So, do you want to do it? I can talk to Enda about the rehearsals.” Cillian promised leaning forwards, showing interest.

“I guess so.” Marianne could only think of him like a widower now.

“Awesome, I’ll tell you more about this idea in the next couple of days.”

Excited, Lee did a little clap. “Fabulous!” Then as Cillian was walking towards the door, she decided to take a little risk. “Cillian? We’re having a little girls night out, but I can’t decide on what color to wear. This?” She showed him a lipstick and then pointed at Marianne. “Or that?”

Unconsciously, his eyes landed on Marianne’s lips. “That.”

“I can’t believe you did that!” Marianne hissed.

Lee looked at her innocently. “I only asked him a question.”

Marianne was mortified opening the door to walk out.

“Lee please, for the love of whatever you want the most… you can’t say this to anyone!” She felt trapped. What would the rest of the cast think?

What would Cillian think?

She was working in this play, had to remain professional. Lee promised to not mention anything.

Finding Heidi already waiting by the exit, the three of them were ready to go to Marianne’s flat.

“No traffic tonight!” Heidi stated over the music of her car.

“We got lucky to find the shop open.” Lee added talking about the cake and moving carefully holding it in her hands.

Marianne rushed to open the umbrella and door for her, she was now used to the Irish rain; the sky would pour down for ten minutes, then it’d stop out of nowhere. “I’ve always loved the smell of rain, but here it’s completely different. Did you send Flor the address?”

“Ya, she’s on her way.”

As they rushed inside, Marianne left the umbrella by the door and passed around the slippers she had for them, she found them on a store and each had the H and L embroidered.

“What do we do?” Heidi asked after cleaning her hands.

“The margaritas please, all the bottles are on the counter.” Marianne asked taking one more glass out for Flor, just as there was a knock.

“That’s the birthday girl!” Lee announced rushing towards the door. Wrapping her friend in a tight hug, she then proceeded to do the introductions. “This is Heidi and this is Marianne, we’re working in a play. Ladies, my friend Flor.”

“Hello.” She replied with a shy smile. “Thank you for having me last minute.”

“Happy birthday!” Marianne gave her a hug too. “Where are you from?”

“Welcome, I’m Heidi and happy birthday!”

“Thanks! It’s so nice to meet you, I’m from Argentina. Lee tol-”

Then, out of the blue, Marianne started speaking and Spanish and Flor replied learning she was Mexican, leaving Heidi and Lee without understanding a single word they were saying.

“Hey, we need a translator over here.” Lee requested over their excitement.

“I’m sorry, I got carried away, it’s not so common to find another Latin girl around.” Marianne explained giving Flor another hug.

“So you understand the excitement over our tacos night?” Heidi laughed.

“I’ll get the tortillas ready.” Marianne announced. “Make yourself at home.”

“Oh! We got you a cake!” Lee told Flor, guiding her towards the kitchen.

“I put the dip and the chips on the bowl.” Heidi added, taking the lemons to cut them.

“That’s the best dip-fucking-ever.” Lee praised, taking a bunch in her hand.

Marianne chuckled. “I’ll just add the guacamole and sauce in there.”

“Guys thank you so much! I wasn’t expecting to do anything today and without knowing me you’re giving me the best birthday ever.” Flor shared, feeling grateful for the last minute celebration. “Lee told me about your tacos night and I wanted to taste them so bad.”

“Wait until you taste the margarita.” Heidi added raising her hands.

“Alright tacos are almost done, guess we can start with a toast?” Marianne looked at the group, excited to see how the night would unfold.

Heidi passed each a glass.

“To Flor!” Lee wrapped an arm around her friend.

“To Flor!” Cheered Heidi and Marianne, wishing the birthday girl the best day and for her dreams to come true.

“So tell me about they play where you guys are working on.”

“It’s an amazing project!” Answered Heidi, passing Flor her plate.

Lee pointed at Marianne. “She’s the leading role, but you have to come to the theater sometime to see it.”

“The entire cast, music, script… everything is incredible.” Praised Marianne when it was her turn.

They took a moment to say a small thank you as Marianne requested for the opportunity to share that moment with Flor on her birthday and then they all laughed and chatted non stop, enjoyed the amazing food and later got to sing the happy birthday to Flor over the cake time.

“Okay I bought this vintage camera the other day so let’s try it out.” She showed them the vintage Polaroid camera.

After asking the group to get get together she adjusted the settings and snapped a photo, getting a candid shot of them.

Marianne walked back to have another margarita, feeling like she definitely needed a night like this so much. With the amount of work she had and the play around the corner, she was extra grateful for these moments with amazing people.

As they waited for the photo to develop they danced to the music and finished the chips with dip, having an absolute blast and celebrating Flor’s birthday.

***

A/N: I got this done pretty quickly, but apart of the birthday celebration I wanted to add something that it’s finally starting something from now on. Fasten your seatbelts! 🥰✨

Tag list: @lyarr24 @gypsy-girl-08 @cillmequick @zablife @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @kettlechips3 @heidimoreton @forbidden-forest-witch @kaitebugg03 @thenattitude @forgottenpeakywriter @onlydeadcells @babaohhhriley @lonelyweeb0044 @lovemissyhoneybee @ange-thoughts @already-broken144 @shelbydelrey @cutecurly-hair @winchestergirl22 @moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @lespendy @kittycatcait219 @stevie75 @esposadomd @sloanexx @shaddixlife @rangerelik @peakyscillian @woofgocows @cillianlove @imichelle-l-rigby @emmanuelle19 @sydneyyyya @cljordan-imperium @mrkdvidal1989 @flippittygibbitts @adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @elk96 @shelundeadxxxx @kmc1989

#that’s what Cill said #cillian murphy #cillian murphy imagine #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy x you #cillian murphy x oc

[felice-jaganshi]

His Pet

Chapter 15

The next morning, Zariah woke with a yelp, immediately sitting up and looking around, shaking. Angel fell out of his chair,

“Jesus christ! What the fuck?! What's wrong?!”

Alastor's eyes immediately shot open from the sound and slowly sat up, “Darling? It's alright, I'm here.” He tried to comfort her.

She turned to him and buried her face in his chest.

“Sorry… bad dream. I remembered someone from when I was alive… someone who hurt me real bad… I always hoped they'd end up in hell so I'd never see them again. But now I'm here too. Guess yesterday's ‘adventures with Valentino’ brought that back to the surface.”

“Well, I'm certain you'll never see them again, and if you do. Just point them out to me and I'll take care of it.” He pet her head. “For now though, I'll go make you breakfast, Angel will stay here with you. If that is acceptable?”

She nodded, “Okay… I'm not really hungry though.”

 

“I'll keep it light then. You need something since you skipped dinner.” He kissed her forehead and she practically melted.

“Hm, okay, whatever you say.” He chuckled, oh he needed to keep that in mind. She'd do anything for forehead kisses.

With that, Alastor stepped out. Leaving the two alone for a while.

Angel picked himself up off the floor, “Alright, how about I run ya a hot bubble bath? I know I usually like one after a night like last night.” 

“Ooh, a bubble bath sounds nice. You can help me blow dry my tails after too.” She got up and stretched. Angel went and started the bath water.

“Hey, does Smiles know you just asked me to blow you?!” He smirked at his joke, pleased with himself as she laughed so hard she practically doubled over. God, did he need to hear her laugh after all that happened. Good thing dirty jokes were her weakness!  

 

Once the bath was ready and she was soaking, Angel sat on the floor leaning against the tub.

“Hey so… Val's dead. Strawberry TallCake killed him. And I… I don't know what to do now…” He started shaking, “I… don't get me wrong, I'm glad I'm free but… Val was nice once… and… I always hoped, that maybe, somehow, some way… that nice side would come back, and things would go back to the good days.” She put a hand on Angel's head, petting him.

“Yeah… I get that. I felt that way about… Arthur… They always love bomb you in the beginning, make life seem like rainbows and sunshine, and promise you everything you've ever wanted… then once you're under their spell… they take everything you don't want to give.”

“Yeah… just sucks that I miss someone so horrible.”

 

“You don't miss him. You miss who he pretended to be. You're mourning someone who never existed, and that's okay… mourn the mask you fell in love with… then let it go. That's what I did. Though I still had a nightmare about him today. So, guess some scars just stick around.”

 

Angel sighed, “Since when did you turn into a therapist? I'm supposed to be the one comforting you. He didn't touch ya in anyways did he?”

“Nah… He tried till I bit off a chunk of his wing and nearly clawed off one of his eyes.”

“You what?!” Angel looked at her, horrified. 

“His wings tasted gross too. It was all powdery and tasted like ashes…” 

 

Angel groaned, “What am I gonna do with you? Ya little weirdo.” He then smiled, “I'm glad you're okay Sis… I'd be a pretty shit brother if ya died on me. Alright, I'll give ya some alone time.”

She smiled, “Okay. Turn on the radio on the nightstand so I can listen to some music. Oh, and the Spicy stories are under my bed if you wanna read them!”

“Yep, got it!” He turned on the radio and picked out one of her stories, choosing one that looked to be about a demon king and an angel falling in love. It sounded interesting enough. 

 

When Alastor finally returned with food. He didn't see her, but her radio was playing. He sat down the food at her desk, then heard her singing coming from the bathroom as she sang along with whatever was playing.

 

“My heart's a stereo, it beats for you so listen close, and hear my thoughts in every no-ote~.

Make me your radio, and turn me up when you feel low.

This melody was meant for you, so sing along to my stereo.”

He realized she was in the bath, which meant he was in her room while she was naked! He felt panic fill him, a proper gentleman doesn't enter a lady's room when she's in a state of undress!  

 

“If I was just another dusty record on the shelf, would you blow me off and play me like everybody else?” She kept singing along, completely unaware he had returned. Well, as far as he knew.

“If I asked you to scratch my back could you manage that?

Furthermore, I apologize for any skipping tracks, it's just the last girl that played me left a couple cracks. I used to- used to- used to, nah I'm over that! Because holding grudges over love is ancient artifacts!”

 

He thought about leaving, but something about the song made him stay, or was it her voice? It felt like her soul was tethering him in place. Which it very well might be, given he owned it.

“If I could only find the note to make you understand, I'd sing it softly in your ear and grab you by the hand! Just keep me stuck inside your head like your favorite tune, and know my heart's a stereo that only plays for you!”

 

She kept singing and he felt like he was under a spell. He sat at her desk chair, and closed his eyes, letting the melody flow over him. She certainly had found the note to make him understand. He had plans for her these days. He intended to teach her how to collect souls and make her an overlord herself. Then, if she became strong enough, maybe she could take on who held his leash…

 

Suddenly he was shaken from his thoughts by the sound of sloshing water, she was getting out of the tub! He started to panic, until-

 

“Hey Al, is my blow dryer on the desk? I think I left it in there.” She knew he was there this whole time?! He looked at the desk.

“Y-yes, it is. I'm sorry for the intrusion, I did not know you were bathing!” He sounded extremely nervous, but she just laughed.

“It's fine! If I had a problem with it, I would have said something. You're fine Al, I know you're not a perv or a creep, so don't stress so much. I know I'm safe with you around regardless of my state of dress, and I hope you feel the same about me.” 

 

“I… suppose I do, actually. You get away with a lot more touching than I'd allow anyone else to do. For some reason, you don't make my skin crawl, and I'm not sure what to do with that.” He was opening up to her, just a little.

 

“You don't have to do anything with it if you don't want to. I'm just happy to be by your side. But getting to hug you and hold your hand makes me crazy happy too.” She came out of the bathroom in her towel and went to pick out fresh clothes before returning to the bathroom to change. Alastor kept his eyes off her the entire time, face bright red.

She came back out once dressed with her hair wrapped up in a towel. She went to grab her blow dryer to work on her tail, but Alastor's shadow got to it first. 

 

“Let me assist you, my dear, that way you can focus on eating.” He got up from the chair and guided her to sit. He wouldn't stop staring until she started eating. Then he hummed in satisfaction and gave her a tiny kiss to her forehead, “good girl.”

 

Alastor took one of her books and began reading while his shadow worked on her tails. After a few minutes, he spoke up again.

“Hm, Zariah, you seem awfully fond of holding someone in your sleep. Might that be something you'd like to do on a more regular basis rather than just when you're in peril?”

She looked up at Alastor with shock! But he kept his eyes glued to the book he was “reading” as he tried to look indifferent. 

 

“Yeah, I love cuddling! It makes me feel so safe and warm. Especially if it's you, you're always allowed in my bed.”

“I see. Then let me make an adjustment to your room.” He snapped his fingers, and her bed became a king sized, rather than the twin it previously was. “There, now if I decide to humor you I won't be so cramped.” 

 

He thought about their potential future together as she ate and gushed over a new story idea she had while in the bath.

He wanted her on his broadcasts, his Radio Angel… they needed to get her training for that, luckily in life he helped his lady coworkers find their voice all the time. So he was confident he could shape her into a proper radio hostess.

Yes, they'd go for walks together, cook meals together, have tea with Rosie, collect souls together. He felt warm in his chest. 

Yes, the radio demon truly did have a heart. And this little angel had won a special place in it.

 

(So this could be considered the end, chapter 16 is just a "bonus" chapter. Will contain consensual cannibalism, if that gets anyone excited.)

#hazbin hotel #alastor's pet #alastor x oc #ace alastor #alastor x reader #aroace alastor #alastor #platonic alastor x reader

[shadyteacup]

A sigh escapes your chapped lips as you gaze at the city visible just beneath your toes. You were being unreasonable, half of your mind knew that. A silent, yet persistent voice kept warning you, urging you take a step back from the edge of the high rise you stood on. But you had decided to be petty today. Unfortunately, that might just cost you your life.

You didn't understand it, really. Why are you being so dramatic? It's not like you had experienced something scarring, or traumatic. Nor had someone close to died, leaving you mourning and alone. Your life is, in the best way possible, very ordinary. You have people who love you, you are pursuing education in a field you loved, you aren't broke. So, why are you here?

Maybe it was because you have always been a thinker. Too preoccupied by your thoughts to notice the world around you. It can get lonely, sometimes. Your own thoughts often betray you, make you sad inspite of it all being great.

Or maybe you're here because you are frustrated. The week has been stressful, and a minor inconvenience led to the flood gates breaking, letting all the pent up emotions rush out all at once.

Life was pointless, anyways; you thought, gazing down at the millions of tiny lights on the now darker street. The evening was quite a beautiful time. It was mesmerizing.

The fall called out to you. It outstretched a comforting hand, beckoning you to experience the euphoric rush of falling down. Would it feel like flying?

"Finally decided to join me, have we?"

Your breath stilled at the intrusion. You hadn't realised your little conversation with yourself was being observed by a third person. It was just you with you, till now.

"I guess.", you murmured.

Dazai came to stand next to you, on the slightly raised edge. Your breath hitched at how casually he hopped up, not a care of slipping on his mind. Then again, it's Dazai. When did he ever care about living?

Dazai noticed your concern, but ignored it, a ghost of a smile turning his lips at your genuine care for him.

"Why?", he suddenly asked.

You blinked. You hadn't expected him to ask you that. You had expected him to simply understand.

"Don't you know?"

Dazai turned to meet your gaze, then.

"Life is not worth it. Is that it?", he asked.

You exhaled deeply, trying to figure out just why you are here, yourself.

"No.", you decided.

Dazai eyed you, as if asking you to explain.

"I'm frustrated. It's painful to be me. I, I'm tired.", you whispered. Tears welled up in your eyes. Saying it out loud was much more taxing than thinking it.

Dazai chuckled.

"Have you considered taking a break?"

"From life?"

He rolled his eyes at that, almost having expected your quick reply.

"Take a few days off. Go shopping, gaming. Pamper yourself.", Dazai suggested.

"Or simply lay in bed all day. I'll cook. Or we can order in."

You pondered over what he said. It seemed too good to be true. Ordering in did sound good, but you'd end up gaining too much weight, which would leave you depressed. Plus-

"Don't think about calories. Fuck how you end up looking by the end of it. Don't take a bath, or stay in the tub all day long.", he continued upon sensing your thoughts.

"Do what you like. Not what magazines or influencers online term as 'relaxing'. Don't do what the trends say. Do what truly makes you feel good."

You felt like you had been hit with a splash of water. He was so right. You don't have to spend your evening reading a book and sipping red wine to relax. You could just laze around on your couch. Hell, you could stay in bed all day, and not get up even once if that's what you wanted.

"Ignore studies, skip classes. Just relax."

That sounded so good.

"And ofcourse, cuddle me. I'm the best hang out buddy, afterall.", Dazai said cheekily, winking at you.

You chuckled.

"Okay."

Dazai smiled genuinely at you, and tucked a stray strand behind your ear. You nuzzle into his touch, thankful for having him in your life.

Your confession made you feel much lighter. And his presence made you feel much better.

You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply. Opening them, you stared at the empty spot next to you. Disappointment flooded your heart.

He wasn't real. But to you, he was. He might be just some character in some anime to others, but he was real to you.

You took a step back, away from your troubled thoughts and frustrations, and onto the roof, a safe distance from the edge. You did that for yourself. Not for some non existent lover, but for yourself.

In your mind, Dazai smiled proudly at you. You smiled back.

You promised to treat yourself well.

#bsd dazai #shadyteacup #shady☕ #dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #dazai x reader #bsd #bungo stray dogs dazai #kunikida doppo #bsd x reader #☕ says #yes i felt like writing so here i am after like a millennium #dazai angst #dazai #dazai scenarios #dazai bsd #dazai+x+reader #dazai x you #osamu dazai #dazai smut #dazai x y/n #dazai fluff #dazaibsd

[sunsage]

This is an activity he skipped last year, still too unused to the city to try much of what the Summer Festival had to offer. It feels a little odd to do it now as well (especially the way he plans to do it), but he chalks that up to the usual anxiety around crowds and picks a spot away from everyone else.

There are the four boats one might expect from him, each with a little folded paper version of the person they correspond to. These are easy to let go of - well, easier now - though he still holds one of them to his heart for a moment longer before releasing it into the water.

There is the fifth one, though, that is in his lap now, a blue paper lion sitting inside. Wukong takes it out, holds it in his hands. He should probably say something. It's not like many would mourn the guy, especially now. At least most people in the Mortal Realm wouldn't know what he did and it's not like Azure ever cared what those who live in Celestial Realms think of him, right? He didn't even care what Wukong thought of him, apparently.

"I really wish I had something nice to say about you, bud." He fiddles with a corner, bending it this way and that. "I mean, we had some good times, right? We were friends. At least that's what I thought."

His grip tightens and the paper lion crinkles loudly in protest.

(If Azure was here, he would hold his hands until they relaxed and tell him how strong he is but that kind of strength requires patience and surely someone as amazing as him could spare some for his friend.)

"But you aren't- weren't the kind of person who would leave a friend to rot under a mountain for five hundred years without at least trying to free them. Or, you know, visiting them once. Unless you came by in my off hours?" It's a bad joke but he laughs anyway, a short, abrupt laugh that fades away almost instantly, a sour smile replaced by a tired scowl. "So I guess I wasn't really your friend after all."

The crease at the corner he's been folding over and over starts fraying at the edges, a small rip forming at the point he put most pressure on. After some consideration, Wukong crumples it into a ball and tosses it into the river. Watches it soften as it takes on water and disappears. Pulls out another piece of paper. Starts folding.

"You were brave, I'll give you that. And strong. Dedicated to your goals, even the stupid ones. Especially the stupid ones."

The ground here is uneven and the new paper figure is coming out a little crooked, but it doesn't stop him. The imperfections only make it more accurate.

(If Azure was here, he would laugh at it with that deep warm laugh of his and say something like "Wow, is this really how you see me? I'd like to think I'm more handsome than that." and he would- they would-)

"Should have probably seen the signs in how you'd step over everyone who was in your way, but I was too busy listening to all the praise you'd shower me in." He laughs again and it comes out scratchy and forced, as if his body is fighting against the sound. "Oh hey, here's another one: you were really good at compliments. You'd always sound so genuine, made it real easy for a guy to believe he can do anything. To believe that you actually cared about me outside of what I could do for you."

Folded paper rips in his hands, the almost finished head coming clean off when he pulls at it too harshly. Sun Wukong stares at his hands and waits until they stop shaking.

("Hey," he would say, quiet and soft, as he placed his hand on Wukong's shoudler, strong and dependable in face of someone as turbulent as him, "it was a good attempt. I kind of like it like that, actually. Shows character.")

He inhales shakily and doesn't cry, though a part of him wants to.

"I wish it didn't end like that. I wish you just listened."

But Azure isn't here (and if he was, he'd just try to kill him again and he would-). And he didn't listen, and he wasn't his friend and now he's dead and never will be his friend again. As always, the brunt of growth and forgiveness and grief is for him alone to carry.

Scooping up the two pieces of the unfinished paper craft, Wukong places them gently into the raft and sends it into the water.

"Goodbye, Azure. Wherever you are now, I hope you find peace."

He doesn't stay to see it drift away.

#isola drabble #spiralefes2023 #havent done a self-indulgent drabble in a while now so the last day of the fes is a great time for it #i think about wukong and azure a lot man. toxic friendship central over there. skewed perspective on both sides #i should write a separate post about them sometime

[andy-solo1]

Bonds of The Past

Obi-wan and Cad Bane are relics left over from a time the empire has tried to erase. Perhaps an unlikely friendship is what the two need to feel normal in a galaxy of turmoil .

Words: 1,127

Warnings: This came out more angsty than i was thinking it would 

Notes: Thanks to the Duros Hoes server for encouraging me to finish what started off as a simple little wip that i didn’t even know where to go from. 

***

Cad Bane was a cold hearted killer. 

He stole children, killed aimlessly, tortured jedi, and left a trail of fear and despair in his wake all for the sake of credits. 

To some, Cad Bane was the monster that would come for them in the night. Sometimes taking them alive to face their true fears, their masters they turned against or the men they’d done wrong. Sometimes, he did them the mercy of killing them first, if you could even call it mercy. 

So why then, did he keep finding himself here of all places in the galaxy. 

The small hut stood before him, practically blending in with the sand dunes around him as a hot breeze blew past, kicking up more of the dust that had already managed to get everywhere. His hat was tipped low to protect from the blazing heat of the two suns above him, even for a Duros there was such a thing as too much sun. 

His worn boots padded silently up to the door, the trail left behind in the sand already blowing away in the breeze as the ever shifting sands covered them over once more. 

He didn’t even bother to knock as he made his way inside, to the one person he couldn’t cut out of his life. The person that even death had somehow skipped over as if to torment Bane with his existence. 

Obi-Wan Kenobi opened his eyes from his seat in the middle of the floor. He already knew Bane was coming. He’d sensed his return, but it was more than that. It was their routine by now. Whenever Bane was between jobs, he came here. 

Neither spoke aloud their questions about it anymore. Neither wanting to place what it was, for fear of it ending perhaps? Although perhaps in Bane’s case it was pride. A weakness that nobody could know, not even that weakness himself. 

“You seem worn out.” Obi-Wan greeted him quietly as he slowly pulled himself up into standing, joints audibly popping as he did so, making the once jedi wince. 

“Not looking so hot yer’self dere Kenobi.” Bane drawled in response, vaguely gesturing towards the greying hair that seemed to dominate more of the human’s head everytime Bane dropped by to see him. 

Obi-wan huffed out a low, humourless laugh. “Such is the fun of ageing I’m afraid. You just have the pleasure of not showing your age.” 

“I ain’t dat old.” Bane hissed in reply as, finally, he drifted away from the door frame to sit himself down at one of the few seats around the small hut. 

“I’m fairly certain you’re far older than I am.” Obi-wan replied, no real bite to his tone. “Care for a drink?” 

“Duros live longer den humans, and I’ll take anyt’ing but that shite tea ya drink.” Bane drawled, 

“And whatever shall you do when you manage to outlive me. I imagine your days will be dull and boring.” Obi-wan replied as he began getting drinks for the both of them. 

“If t’ings hadn’t gone as dey had I woulda outlived ya anyways. Probably woulda finally managed ta kill ya.” 

Silence fell in the hut for a moment as they both silently mourned the galaxy as it had once been. Perhaps that was the true reason why Bane kept finding himself coming back here. Obi-wan was the last connection he had to the jedi, to the life he’d lived before the empire. As much as he’d loathed the jedi, in a way, he had purpose with them. 

Someone would always want the information a jedi had, want a jedi gone, so they paid Bane to be the person to do the dirty deed. It gave him a true purpose, but now. Now the jedi were gone and the empire was too corrupt for even Bane to want to lay a hand near it. 

Obi-Wan came back over and passed Bane a drink, some liquor he kept around solely for Bane, before sitting down and sipping at the tea he’d grabbed for himself. 

As for Obi-wan, perhaps he enjoyed Bane’s company because for once, he wasn’t Ben, a man who’d lost everything and everyone close to him, save for one little boy and one little girl, who even then, didn’t know him. He was just Obi-wan Kenobi once more. A jedi master, a man who hadn’t lost his brother, his friends, his troops hadn’t betrayed him, and he wasn’t watching over the only remaining hope left for the galaxy. 

“If it could have prevented all this from happening, perhaps it would have been best if you’d killed me.” Obi-wan muttered silently, though Bane still heard him. The bounty hunter tilted his head slightly as he observed the former jedi silently, the only sounds were their breathing and the wind outside. 

“Kenobi, don’t go doing this shite again. Dis ain’t yer fault. Even if ye were dead, I remember how hot headed dat padawan of yers was. He woulda still turned.” Bane said eventually. 

Bane didn’t know everything, something that suited both of them well enough, but Obi-wan had confided eventually to the bounty hunter about Anakin’s turn to the dark side, and what Obi-wan had been forced to do. 

Obi-wan let out a shaky breath, “I know. There’s just days where I wonder what I could have done differently.” 

“De galaxy don’t revolve around ye Kenobi. It woulda happened anyway.” Bane replied, chugging down the last of his liquor. Obi-wan had been around the bounty hunter enough by now to know his tells, and he knew at this moment, they were both still hurting at the loss of how the galaxy had been. 

But at least they had each other. 

*                                                                                                              *                                                                           *

Cad Bane  found himself once more standing outside the small hut in the desert, only this time as he made his way inside, no former jedi sat waiting to greet him. Instead the small critters of the sands darted out past his feet, startled at the intrusion to what they had clearly begun making into their home. 

Sand already covered the inside in a fine layer, shifting underfoot as Bane silently walked to the centre of the hut. He stood for a moment, the silence around him deafening before he went over to where the liquor Obi-wan had kept for him was kept. 

Even that too was covered in sand and dust, though more than the other items. His lack of visiting all the reason for it. He blew the sand out of a glass and poured himself a shot, downing it back quickly before deciding to just drink straight from the bottle. 

Nursing his drink, he walked over to the single trunk of belongings Obi-wan had, and opened the top. He looked through the items silently, before pulling out one thing that caught his eye, a photograph of Obi-wan with Anakin and the lil’ lady togruta that had followed them around. 

“Well Kenobi, de empire’s gone. Dat Skywalker kid did it, he took em down.” Bane said quietly, “The jedi can come back now like ya wanted. Too bad you ain’t around ta see it.” With that, he put the picture back silently and stood.

He walked out of the hut as silently as he had come, unawares of the spirit that had come by to see his old friend one last time.

#cad bane #obi wan kenobi #old ben #tattooine #Obi wan and cad bane become friends #could be taken as kenobane #angst

[a-pocket-full-of-rodents]

And so on Judgement Day I am not worried.

What is there to fret over the presence of the divine?

And I know I have already let my grandparents bury their grandchild,

But what has ever been the harm in a little teeth and claws?

What am I if not an old portrait on a desk somewhere?

Judgement day is creeping closer and I have never felt more doomed.

Another bath should cleanse me hopelessly free of myself.

On Mondays I work at an art gallery that has exactly one hole near the ancient history section and a puddle near the impressionism.

It doesn't pay well and it makes me cry more than anything but when has art ever done the opposite? When have I been able to gaze into oils and truly admit I had not unravelled myself a thousand times over to recognise it?

And anyway this art gallery has all these sculptures and to tell you the truth I'm more of a portrait man myself but there is one that has lived through every last rendition of me yet

And he sits at the back behind a peeling gate and his artist statement is broken over with blood and small hands and he's nothing special, really, and it's silly to wax poetics about sticks in the mud

But I think I like it no more than I have grown fond of it. As every morning I touch-up the glaze and I paint him over in fresh polish and I fix up his skin with new, uncracked clay

And you know I'm standing here, a bleeding corpse with an eye for the wretched, and I wonder just how old this really is? Cuz sure, it's got the date of creation (day of mourning, day of funeral bells) right there next to it but oh god he's been sculpted and twisted so often is it even him anymore? Is any part of him whole?

When I repair the cracking in his skin what am I adding? What did I just take away? When my father scrubbed this artwork and when his father and his father and his did the same they weren't really cleaning so much as they were praying, huh? How much of this clay has been set from the beginning? How much modernism seeps in his bones?

My english teacher tells me poems aren't meant to be this long, Monty, you're meant to break them up into little words and say only the essentials so if I make a cut here and here and you can see, can't you, how condensed it now is? How much more palatable your words sound now that you aren't rushing them?

And when I went home that day and carved Eve's rib out and shaved my head and dumped my words heaved over into my sink until they clogged I think I understood. And I think, this understanding of relatability, of "is this even really a poem you're just saying things by now", I think that gave me the driving force to submit my resume

And so I think, Father, forsaken as you may be, I was not right and it was immoral and still you are wrong to deny me my wings and still you are wrong to chain my knees to your temple and god I know pretty little girls like me aren't any good for begging or howling or cursing but really when you've taken all my teeth and they've been stained a horrible shade of yellow and the tips are sharp as the claws on the lambs feet no Father I do not repent for myself and yes Father I will drag this helpless screaming body down your catacombs through my digestive track out of the gates of eden and Yes father I will love love love in anyway I can and No father I quite like my disgustingly miserable face and honestly I can't even recall what this was about and I don't know why your churches get the best architecture when there is an art gallery right next door do you see it? Do you see me? Exit stage left on the cabaret of displacement look at your beautiful lamb close your eyes and enjoy the buffet and so, in the grand scheme of things, Father, I think your prophetic day of Binaries will do me no good and I think I will skip today's pressured reinvention and then tomorrow I will wipe at my sculpture as I always do and I will wipe and scrub and clean it completely free of fingerprints of humanity of relation and I will clean this hollowed-out misshapen shell of a man as I always do as I always have and as you never cared to and Father I swear to you I will make something holy of your hands creation and I swear to you I will make something of this body. I swear to you I will not kill the one thing that I love.

On Monday mornings I take the blade and I carve myself up and on Monday evenings I take my artwork home wrapped in an almost smothering sheet.

Baths are good remedies for atheism, I have found.

And devotion is nice for Hell but really who's keeping score nowadays?

Portraits are not so good for the escapists, but there is always the chisel,

And wool on a lamb glints dark in the shadows of claws and howls.

And I do feel bad about mutilating that sweet grandchild of theirs into a burnt family portrait, I must admit.

But Jesus watches me scrub my hands till they bleed gold and he sees me puking up prayers over Sunday dinner so what's the fear in a little Religion?

Judgement day never seems to end and I am hopelessly doomed.

#poetry #poets corner #poets on tumblr #art #queer poetry #trans #trans poetry #queer art #trans art #heeheehoohoo #oh boy don't we love A Feeling

[rueitae]

Season 1, Episode 6, The opera in the outback caper

I find Player’s desire to do accents adorable and hilarious at the same time. A fun tidbit for his personality. ‘Cause he’s absolutely willing to do it again later. Bonus points that Carmen teases him for it. (At least I choose to interpret that as teasing)

Player: wow good sign or bad omen? (In an episode in which Carmen gets brainwashed)

Me: stares at camera

Seriously though, the foreshadowing of the dark red arc throughout the series is so well done. It’s so brazen. So much so you don’t see it coming. Crackle’s civilian-ization is, I believe, the first introduction of brainwashing tech. Upon rewatch it's so clear what they’ve done. I bet the writers were cackling to themselves the entire time for this one.

I, for one, am so happy they made Carmen the opera a thing for an episode. Thank you CS for not wasting this niche opportunity. And all the zingers that come with it.

Love how they suspended audience (and Carmen) disbelief for a while by not having Le Chevre show up right away, so Carmen thinks that Gray is running this job. Until she really gets a solid look at him in a different light. I just appreciate how the scene went down. Clever and fun writing to introduce us to the issue.

I also like that Player isn’t taking any crap. He never does. That’s what I like about his character. He’s the only one who can really tell Carmen “how about not” and she’ll think about it. (And 90% of the time she skips off anyway). Though the few times in the series she does take his advice on an emotional decision are very poignant and some of my favorites.

This fight scene above the opera??? The elegance, the silence so we focus on the opera music (as Bellum wants) the timing of the machine hitting the rafters. VERY nice.

VILE NOTE

Player stop hunching over in excitement, your back is gonna hurt by the time you’re 30.

I dunno I like that after all the times they say “VILE”, Player decides to not use the acronym to seemingly try and bring home a point to Carmen to be careful, they could be up to anything.

The glider is really silent wow. Gray doesn’t hear her until she lands. Well done Ivy.

Ultimately she’s heartbroken he doesn’t remember her, but also he’s not trying to kill her so there’s that. In this first season in these moments you can tell she misses the innocent life she had. And she supposedly hasn’t been civhting VILE for long, so that’s a nice character piece there that she’s still mourning a more innocent time that she can never go back to. She knows she can’t and won’t.

8pm. I find it so hilarious for that need to specify because I personally would be like “8…am?”

Me: googles all the deadly creatures and weather in Australia

Me, hides Google doc: it’s…totally not for fic research.

LOL I love the utterly confused civilians during dramatic moments. Sorry Miro

Lab coats! Everyone in a lab coat!!! Thank you CS.

OPERA IS FAR TOO DISTRACTING. Love her character. The backstory she gives to Zack and Ivy and their FACES is delightful

Ivy and Zack are not trained thieves. That’s what makes them so fun to watch while they’re trying to hold her back. Carmen is creative too, but she has fighting experience to fall back on. The sibs don’t.

I wonder if Carmen realizes what’s happening in the split second before she goes under.

Player has the BEST “sus” face. And also rewatching I realize that the writers did give Player a chance to snap Carmen out of it. It doesn’t work. And it wouldn’t have worked for dark red arc.

Carmen really stands there saying “launch the boomerang” for almost a minute and a half lol.

The DINGO alert.

There’s something in me that appreciates that especially in these early episodes it’s always the sibs vs El Topo and Le Chevre. They get to know each other. That’s why the diversion works.

Ivy almost going up with the rocket is a TOP angst trope for me. I still get so excited over it. Not even kidding this is the millionth time I’ve watched the episode and I’m salivating over the near miss.

MIRO he just sits in the car but I’m glad we see his relief.

Okay after the first episode (well second technically) where he’s worried this is the first big protective!Player moment. He really drills into Carmen all the reasons she shouldn’t meet up with Gray again. Like. Gets really serious. These are my FAVORITE moments. And this one in particular I like because Carmen takes his advice here, she changes her mind because of what he says but for an entirely different reason. For Gray’s protection.

Carmen’s a good person. VILE totally miscalculated everything about her.

I love Maelstrom’s office it’s so EXTRA with the fish tank lol. Very clever working the darkness of what Maelstrom is asking into a kids show, with the replacement of “hat” for “head”. Hello Paper Star see you next week.

#carmen sandiego #carmen sandiego weekly #csweekly #carmen sandiego netflix #carmen sandiego 2019 #cs liveblog

[artblock-tm]

So! Most of my followers would not have known this (since I didn’t talk about it on this account), but I’ve been reading the Irish poem The Pursuit of Diarmuid and Gráinne. I just finished it recently, and wanted to share some personal highlights:

-Fionn exhibits SERIOUS maidenless behavior

-I’m still floored that Gráinne put the taboo on Diarmuid right in front of the rest of the Fianna. And the Fianna had to go “sorry bro better do what she says….yeah we’ll miss you good luck bro.”

-It’s so funny that Oísin and Oscar are both seriously against Fionn’s bullshit but are dragged into it anyways

-Fionn somehow keeps finding the STUPIDEST MOTHERFUCKERS to go try and kill Diarmuid. Diarmuid killed 150 people in the span of 3 days by going, “Hey, wanna see a cool trick?” and doing some stunt and each day 50 men died trying to replicate that stunt.

-The. The berry plotline.

-The whole poem emphasized that Diarmuid would never so much as look at Gráinne the wrong way. And then at one point she just randomly drops the bombshell that she’s heavily pregnant. With Diarmuid’s kid. They fucked and there was no mention of it.

-The fact that a group of knights, in attempting to clear their beef with Fionn, gave Fionn some berries and be like “we picked these :) too bad we didn’t see that Diarmuid guy though” and Fionn’s response was “I call BULLSHIT. I can smell Diarmuid’s skin on those berries.” (It’s likely that they, too, have fucked in the past.)

-The fact that Diarmuid was fucking with the chess game between Fionn and Oísin??? Just so Fionn would lose??? And then kissing Gráinne after he was caught??? It’s so petty I love it.

-Skipping to the part where all is forgiven. Apparently the whole thing takes place over 16 years. Which makes a bit more sense with the pregnancy thing but I still feel like there was some character development we skipped over.

-It’s sooo much fun to read about your Irish mythology blorbo after being brutally gored and disemboweled by a boar suffering and about to die while Fionn insults him </3

-Thank goodness Oísin was there to talk shit at his dad for not giving Diarmuid the water! But Diarmuid still died :(

-Gráinne hoping she can mourn her lover but Angus goes “Nope. I’m taking his body off to fairyland so I can bring him back to life every day so we can chat.” And he did. And she had no say in it.

-The ending, unfortunately, was really anticlimactic. Gráinne hyped up all her children and sent them on quests so they could train to avenge their father, but Fionn manages to sweet talk Gráinne into living happily ever after with him. When her kids came to get revenge, Gráinne was like “nah we’re cool now” and the kids went, “oh okay” and it just ended there. The end.

#artbabble-tm #irish mythology #I recommend reading it since I did skip over a lot #And it’s really funny but only in the way that learning about mythology is funny. It’s really ridiculous yknow