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alwaysinlimbo · 4 days

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Body Image

-----If you're not a fan of discussing body issues than i urge you not to proceed and I am sending you love-------

A journal prompt for tonight

How have the media and societal standards affected your body image?

Back in 12th grade, there was a girl in my writing class that was taking a survey: "Have you ever felt self-conscious due to social media?" I said no. I lied.

Social media has been one of my favorite things, but has also been the bane of my existence. On one hand, I see it as a scrap book for my life, where I can share things with my friends and pretend I'm pretty cool for a little while. I enjoy sharing. Sometimes oversharing. I take it that stems from childhood trauma too, as most things seem to.

As of right now, I currently have instagram and tik tok off my phone. for one, cause I am in my senior year of college studying STEM and need to focus on finals, but also because I found myself in the never ending loop of comparison again.

I often see people online, and even knowing full well that social media is completely fake, I still compare and compare and beat myself up over stupid things. It's a dumb thing really, looking at a place full of filters and perfectly chosen photos and thinking "wow I must be a real wreck huh." simply untrue.

I deal with chronic bloating, and because of this over the past year and a half, have become very self conscious in my day to day life. My most recurring thought is "what if someone thinks I'm pregnant???" I have spent so much time pondering why that's my first thought and why I am so scared of people's perception of me (something I cannot control might I add). I've come to realize that I find myself doing that at times, looking at another woman and having that thought. But then I thought to myself, where did I get that from??? Well, I've chalked it up to social media. How many times do you see a celebrity post a photo where maybe her tummy isn't perfectly flat, and suddenly, the comments are flooded with pregnancy skeptics.

It's terrible. If people would stop commenting on other peoples bodies I think the world would be an easier place to live in. But either way, whether you like it or not, seeing repeated comments like that, you end up being conditioned into having those thoughts yourself. I once read somewhere years ago that your first thought is what you've been conditioned to think, and it's really your second thought that matters.

Social media now has also been overtaken by trends upon micro-trends upon consumerism galore. A terrible cycle really. Every week it seems there's a new buzzword for a new micro-trend, and then Shein picks it up and adds loads of clothes under that buzzword, and then millions of trend followers run after and spend all their money on those clothes, only to follow the next micro-trend a week later.

I found myself falling into this cycle I wont lie. I will always say that I hate trends, I've never been someone that NEEDS to follow trends. If a trend happens to be something I like, then I'll be on board and if not, I'll just keep doing my thing. But the problem is that with the rise of tik tok came the rise of these aesthetics and names, and then these tik tokers who make these aesthetics their entire personalities. And when you see someone have millions of people love them for sticking to one aesthetic, you get stressed and start telling yourself that you have to stick to one aesthetic or you'll be a poser, or people will stop liking you.

It's simply not true, it's a poison that the internet has fed us, and I'm convinced they've done it as a way to make fast fashion companies richer, but that's a story for another day.

What I want to say now is that it's all complete bullshit (I hope I'm allowed to swear on here still, I haven't been on tumblr in ages so if not tumblr i'm sorry). We are human beings, and human beings are complex creatures with complex brains. We weren't built to only like one specific thing. We were made to be curious, and continue to expand ourselves and our interests. We are not an "aesthetic."

I have spent many wasted hours and days sitting and pondering my entire existence because I don't fit into a box. I'm cottage-core, but I'm also goth, but I'm also punk, but also I'm goblin-core, and I'm also 2000s twee, but I'm also a 70s rocker, but also an antique 20s girl, but don't forget that I'm 90s grunge, oh and trust me, I'm also midwestern Americana and southern gothic. Read that sentence over again if you couldn't figure out whats wrong with it. and again and again and again until you get it.

WE. ARE NOT. AN AESTHETIC.

You are allowed to dress however you want. There are no rules. These "rules" that seem to be unspoken but very loud, they're completely fake. Made up by mouths that could not process the information their eyes received correctly.

We are so complex, and that complexity creates such beauty. It's quite cliche but when you really think about it, it holds: If we were all exactly the same the world would be a horribly boring place.

I hope this gave some solace to anyone who stumbled across it. I know it certainly quieted my mind in the way I needed it to today. If you're hear, thank you for taking the time to listen to what I had to say, and I hope if you related, your days get easier and your heart feels less heavy. Much love <3

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thesecretattic · 1 year

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I have a horrible sore throat and high fever I’m literally dying. I’m ending m-y l-i-f-e however due to the following reason. He was my soulmate but nothing like me, that was the real tragedy, nowadays people have become so narcissistic and diabolical no one’s life or health matters, what should will never come first, my SOS posts are far MORE IMPORTANT than your stupid narcissistic attention seeking photos as in “look how good looking or beautiful/handsome I am” or your rubbish banal tv shows/movie trailers/boring videos/dreary repeat hearsays & quotes/flaunting things money can’t buy such as relationships, “friends & family”, boyfriend, husband, stupid announcements, lovers & other personal achievements that has nothing to do with us, simply because you’ll know some of us don’t have all that because maybe you got our share too and that’s why some have nothing while others have everything. He is ORDINARY just like everyone else who has superiority complex, full of conceit HE WANTS everyone to like him but he doesn’t want to give anyone a speck of attention, when I like something I don’t think twice before hearting it or following certain pages, commenting etc. I just realised it’s a BIG DEAL and probably how “great” or good I am because I do it without giving it a single thought but others - all those immature ordinary people are not like that, that’s why I’m a loner and I have 0 likes and followers (forget those haranguing futile SOS posts but even on my other account - CashmereVanilla.co on insta) because of these “supremists” who think they are God so the only kind of human interaction I have is in the form of signs and innuendos, they are not on an elevated plane like God, they have a b-loo-dy mouth to speak and fingers to type. Its highly immature when you don’t want to show people that you are around by giving them attention. It hurts a lot when no one views my stories it’s as if I’m a fool who’s constantly speaking to herself, I am facing this sheer ostracisation and ignorance/hate since the past 8 years and when it’s done by someone who means the world (mainly by them even if you ignore all others for their ignorance) it’s beyond hurtful. There is only one way to end it and that is - with my life, I’ve been bearing enough, they isolate someone easily on social media as if they are kids or teens. I won’t live with this INSULT. I can’t cry in my condition I have high fever but I can’t stop myself from doing that, I am going to throw everything in my room and destroy it completely and then die. Cuz I’m an effing fool and you are a God-like personality, I will never forget that, I’m not being petty you are, love is never leaving someone alone normalcy means considering someone and helping them when they post an SOS 🆘 because it’s your responsibility as a normal human being to do that, normalcy means realising that someone’s life matters more than your gorgeous superficial attention seeking posts. These psychos killed me. He didn’t even view my story I have 0 ppl 0 friends I feel so alone it’s like I’m already dead or I don’t exist NO human interaction, no one to talk to no one to share anything interesting with, I can’t stop crying, only shameless fcks everywhere, just me having a conversation with myself obviously in a crazy world which forces you to be alone and then sats unrealistic things like go love urself and watch yourself and like yourself and blah blah if so then why are you in a relationship? It was the last chance I gave him, even small things matter a lot, it will never be the same again anymore, he must be busy sleeping with someone the whole day yesterday no wonder, it was a Sunday remember? I’m a lip virgin and over there he just can’t have enough of it. - Zara Sauleh

Btw I haven’t seen his social media profiles since 7 years because of panic attacks, he doesn’t have that excuse as he is fit and fine and in every condition to go to the gym or dance, unlike me who’s been bed ridden due to jerkings, convulsions etc.

www.lilacnights.com/post/your-reality and

I had thought that when I’ll find someone I won’t be alone (due to lack of friends or more importantly all the bullying and jealousy in my life from those fake ones) I used to think he will be my friend and he would ardently like my posts, he’d follow me even if no one else would, comment etc. He used to religiously like my pics on that dating app where they had that feature back then in 2015 I have all the screenshots in my old laptop, you’ll find the album in iPhotos

Simple. It’s unfair. Bye… I have been enough patient and good with him ALSO. Other MEN/BOYS SWALLOW THEIR PRIDE. Treat someone badly like trash & yet expect them to be in love with you like a fan… keep living in delusion.

- #harshrajput - #jiyashankar #rocky #pavitra #heerranjha #romeojuliet #sunday #actorslife #pishachini

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daydreaming-in-letters · 3 years

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School Prize Night

(A Good night, Mr Cavill Sequel)

Part 1 - Through my eyes

07/07/2021

Pairing: teacher!Henry Cavill x plus-size teacher!reader (3rd person)

Word Count: 2,531

Warnings: rpf, body issues, self-loathing, angst, sexual innuendos, comforting, fluff, Henry being the sweetest boyfriend a (plus-size) girl could ask for

Summary: It's School Prize Night at Miss Y/L/N and Mr Cavill's school. But as she is getting ready for the event, she finds it impossible to accept her reflection in the mirror.

A/N: As I already feared, this dream of a man simply refuses to leave my thoughts. And so I used the first day of the summer holidays to come up with a four part sequel to Good night, Mr Cavill. So here is the first part. I'm afraid it has become a little angsty, but I promise to make it up to you with a lot of teasing and passion in the other parts.

Picture found on Pinterest

If you like my story, you are very welcome to like, comment or reblog. Please don’t copy, repost or share my work on other platforms.

For a long time she had been wondering what to say whenever someone asked her what her special talent was. Now she knew, pinching her paunch harshly between her fingers until it formed a prominent, round bulge. Self-loathing. That’s what she was good at. A profession she had perfected over the last years.

And as if to prove her point, half the contents of her wardrobe lay scattered around her feet, mocking her with all their colourful beauty that magically turned into hideous abominations as soon as they covered her form. If she didn’t know any better, she would let herself believe that she was somehow cursed—a gorgeous princess trapped inside the body of a manatee. But sadly it wasn’t that simple and instead of an evil witch she could only blame herself for the reflection she saw in the mirror.

Giving herself another once over, she actually considered covering her eyes to spare herself the view, when thankfully her eyes seemed to have mercy on her tortured soul and salty tears began to blur her vision. Too late, as she noticed. The gears of self-hate had already started to turn and once they were in motion, nothing could stop them, pulling her deeper and deeper into the darkness.

She hardly realised that her whole body was trembling by now, her knees finally giving out underneath the weight of the world that pressed down upon her shoulders, making her sink onto the plush carpet with a heartbroken sob while the world around her fell away.

“Darling?” The familiar voice came from somewhere down the hallway, but she couldn’t hear it in the state she was in. “Do you have any idea how to tie a decent Windsor knot? I’ve watched this stupid video about a million times by now and I just can’t seem to—“

His heart almost stopped beating as he stepped into the bedroom, his eyes immediately falling onto the pitiful picture of misery that used to be his girlfriend, crumbled into a tight package in front of the mirror.

“Y/N?” But instead of an answer there just came another soul shaking sob from the huddled creature and he didn’t waste another second to get over to her. “Whatever is the matter, love?” His voice was warm and soothing as he squatted down beside her, but it was still not enough to break through to her. Desperate to find a clue as to what might have caused her distress, he took in the setting and when his eyes finally landed on the pile of clothes that surrounded her devastated form, he suddenly understood.

With a sigh he sat down beside her, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug before he pulled her onto his lap. “Sh, darling. Don’t cry,” he cooed, rocking her in his arms like a child. Slowly his hand drifted across her hair, as if his touch could just stroke her pain away, his lips tenderly pressing down on the crown of her head, before his cheek finally came to rest there.

“Well, what else am I supposed to do,” she croaked hoarsely, and the only thing that pained him more than the agony in her voice were her next words, “considering that you will leave me someday soon.”

He knew that it was only her insecurity speaking and yet he felt a bit slighted that she still couldn’t fully believe his feelings for her were nothing but true.

“Now why would I do that?” he muttered into her hair as calmly as he could, “I love you, Y/N, and as long as you don’t want me to, I’m not going anywhere.”

Something about his words must have finally gotten through to her as he could feel the sobs die away bit by bit and he was almost positive that he would find a small smile on her face when she wriggled out of his embrace, but to his surprise he was met with a pair of defiant eyes.

“How can you be so sure of that? It’s only been three months, Hen. That’s probably just the hormones talking, and once they’re back to their normal levels, you’ll finally see the real me. And I can’t blame you if you want to run as soon as you realise what you’ve gotten yourself into.”

“Hey!” he barked, his hands clutching her face in a firm grip to make her look at him. “You know how much I hate when you talk about yourself like that.”

“Yeah, well, I guess it’s easier to love yourself when one looks like you,” she spat and he regretted his harsh words instantly as he saw the tears that were threatening to fall again.

“Oh, no, darling. No, no, no. This is not about me and my body image, it’s about you.” He sighed again, his jaw clenching dangerously and he needed to close his eyes for a second to force his anger back down to its source. “I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to see yourself the way I do, maybe not, but that doesn’t give you the right to question the way I feel for you. You see, just because it’s hard for you to love yourself, doesn’t mean it’s hard for me as well.”

And there they were, the tears that had been threatening to fall again, streaming down her cheeks freely now. “I’m so sorry, Hen. I should never have—“

“You bloody well shouldn’t have,” he said sternly, but then his eyes softened like they always did whenever he looked at her and he pulled her closer to press his lips to her forehead in a symbol of forgiveness.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, her head fell down onto his shoulder and she nuzzled his warm skin affectionately. “Ugh, I’m such a mess,” she mumbled, and he could feel her lips move against his skin.

“No, you’re not, darling. Like so many, you’ve been traumatised by an ideal created by the media and greedy companies, telling you to constantly chase after their standard of beauty instead of focusing on those things that truly matter.”

For a moment, a deafening silence settled between them, but he knew she simply needed a while to think about his words. And just when he could feel the uneasiness of doubt crawl from the pit of his stomach, she sighed, a deep sound of realisation that soothed his worry.

“I guess you’re right,” her muffled voice came to his ears from the crook of his neck. “You always are. Perfect idiot.”

Her little remark coaxed an amused chuckle from his chest and he could feel her body tremble in his arms from the vibration. But when his face fell upon their reflection in the mirror, the short moment of lightness suddenly died away and he wished with all his heart that just once he could give her his eyes before he would lift her around her body so she could feel what he felt whenever he looked at her. Grasp the reason why he loved her so much and why he never wanted to look at anyone else for the rest of his days. If only—

Silently he signalled it was time for them to get up and as soon as he stood, he offered her his hand and pulled her up against his chest. Colliding softly with his firm pecs, she could feel his lips brush against her ear, his deep voice causing a shiver to run across her skin.

“Do you trust me?” he whispered, his hands drifting over the small of her back and down to her full cheeks, squeezing them reassuringly.

“Of course I do.”

“Then close your eyes.”

And so she did, without hesitation. Slowly she could feel his hands glide up her body again, stopping at her waist when he ordered, “Now turn around.”

His strong hands guided her as she carefully obeyed his wish again and she could feel his hot palms come to rest on her stomach, her back securely leant against his chest.

“Hold out your hands, sweetheart, palms facing upwards,” he demanded, and she wasn’t sure what exactly caused the heat to pulse through her nether regions, his hot breath that fanned across her shoulder, the authority in his voice, or the enticing combination of both. She had no idea what he was up to, but she couldn’t help the slight pang she felt when his hands suddenly left her body. He must have picked up on the little twitch of her lips before she could stop herself from pouting, judging from the triumphant chuckle that made his chest quake. Cocksure bastard.

But then she could feel his touch again, his fingers gently gliding along her forearm until his hands pushed underneath hers.

“Let me show you something, darling.” And as if the dark timbre of his voice would actually leave her a choice but to let him take over from here, his lips ghosted across the sensitive spot of her neck to ensure her compliance.

She was still trying to concentrate again when she felt something squishy and warm underneath her fingertips and it actually took her a second to realise that he had brought their joined hands to her belly. On reflex, she tried to pull away, but his grip on her tightened to hold her back.

“No,” he growled, his lips close to her ear again. “I want you to feel yourself, to try and see yourself through my eyes. Just a few minutes, that’s all I ask.” But still he didn’t proceed until he could feel her resistance melt away. “Can you feel how soft your belly is? So velvety smooth, it’s practically inviting you to touch it, to caress it, to relish in its malleability. Mmmh, so wonderfully soft,” he moaned his appreciation, making her insides tingle pleasantly.

“And here, can you feel this?” He guided her hands towards her hips, pressing her fingertips into the supple flesh. Slowly moving back and forth, she could make out the small ripples he had probably wanted her to notice. “I know you hate your stretch marks, but whoever decided to call them that probably had no idea what they truly are.” He made a short pause to emphasise his next words. “They’re tiger stripes. And you earned them all on your way to becoming the strong tigress you are. So be proud of them.”

She had wanted to protest when his lips pressed lovingly to her temple, a gesture that always made her soft for him, and her will to speak up against his sugarcoating of her flaws fizzled out.

“Mmmmmh,” he sighed again, as he lead her hands to her rear, “now let’s come to one of my favourites.” Slowly he made her hands move in circles across her behind, as if this was necessary to help her visualise the incredible magnitude of her butt. And to top it all off, the absence of her visual sense seemed to further enhance the depths of the dips and dents that coated its surface.

“It’s not only the luxurious lushness of your behind that compels me to run my hands along it as often as I can and squeeze it tightly. No.” He growled lowly again, his teeth sinking into her shoulder as he made her fingers dig into her cheeks and this time she found it impossible to hold back a moan. “I wish you could see the way it jiggles and quivers with every thrust of my hips when I take you from behind. It’s magnificent.”

“Oh God, Henry,” she mewled when she could feel the treacherous wetness pool between her legs, soaking her panties in an instant. She wanted to pull away again, but this time to spin around and press her body against his while her lips devoured his filthy mouth before it could drive her completely insane with need. And yet again, Henry was stronger, securing her in her current position for just a little longer.

“I see you’re starting to get the point of this whole exercise. Good for you, darling.”

“Henry, please,” his teasing made her whine, as it always did, and she almost missed how he hooked her fingers underneath the straps of her bra to peel away the obstructive lace.

“Sh, don’t fuss. This is the best part, I promise.”

And with that he closed her hands around her voluptuous breasts, massaging them tenderly. “Did I promise too much? This really is the good stuff, isn’t it? I don’t think I’ve ever held anything as fluffy as these two delights in my hands. I still remember the way they moved to the rhythm of our lovemaking that first night. So enchanting. But you know what is even better?” he asked, his head dipping down to nuzzle her neck yearningly. “To rest my head upon your chest after we both came undone. I love to be embedded by this softness while I can listen to your heartbeat. There is something so utterly bewitching about witnessing how it slowly calms down after I made you touch the sky.”

Without thinking twice her eyes flew open, just in time to catch a glimpse of all the affection his heart held for her as it reflected so openly in his blue eyes.

“Oh Hen!” And finally he didn’t hold her back when she tried to spin around, cupping his stubbly cheeks gently in her hands. “I love you so much.”

And without giving him the chance to answer, her lips found his, moving with them until she didn’t know anymore where she ended and he began. Her head still spinning slightly, she broke away, their heavy pants the only noise that filled the silence for a while.

“And I love you.” A beaming smile curled his lips, passing on to hers while it slowly set her on fire. “Even the parts you despise. Maybe I love them the most. And I will not stop loving them for the both of us until you can love them too.”

She didn’t know what she could have possibly replied to that. He was right, it was still a long way to go. There would always be difficult times. After all, self-love wasn’t a permanent state she would be in for good once it was reached. She rather saw it as a concept, an idea she would possibly never reach in her life, but at least she could count on him to be there and help her see through his eyes whenever she was struggling.

“Now, can I make a suggestion regarding your outfit?” he derailed her train of thought. “Take the white summer dress with the pink peonies I love so much. You know how great your ass looks in that, don’t you?” He smirked while, once again, his fingers dug into her behind.

“So you keep telling me, Hen.”

“Because it’s true.” His lips briefly brushed over the tip of her nose. “And it will remind me all night long of all the things I’m going to do to you as soon as we get back here.”

Part 2

***

Tag List: please let me know if you want to be removed or added by either ask or DM - thank you!

@summersong69 @myloveforhenrycavill @dorothea-hwldr @omgkatinka @ashesofblackroses @amberangel112 @madbaddic7ed @icarusblinders @zealoushound @asuni921 @endofalldays01 @nerra75 @indigosaurus @nowyouseeme098 @cap-just-said-language @miss-rebel-without-applause @wheretheriversrunintothesea @maan24 @mochionly @introvertedmouse @sofiebstar @kebabgirl67 @agniavateira @enchantedbytomandhenry @lumiousmoon @littlewrenofrivia @greensleeves888 @babypink224221 @lharrietg @diegos-butt @made-of-stars03 @sassy-pelican @marantha @jadert15 @legendarywizarddetective @mis-lil-red @memoriesat30 @irishprincess89 @honiebee @440mxs-wife

#teacher!henry cavill x reader #teacher!henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #teacher au #henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fic #henry cavill rpf #good night mr cavill

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incorrect-blind-channel · 3 years

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Joonas: I CAN'T shut up, baby!!! I am absolutely FULL of STUPID and simply MUST share it with the world!!!

#blind channel #joonas porko #incorrect quote #source: tumblr

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hueningshaped · 3 years

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★ comme des garçons | y.jh

▰ genre: some angst some fluff stupid stuff

▰ word count: 4.5k *sighs*

▰ synopsis / request #2: (btw anon deserves the world)

▰ possible warnings: vulgar language and a lot of insults and use of ‘stupid’ and ‘idiot’ and some blood and also this really sucks but let’s get into it

"Late again, are we?" Jeonghan crooned with a smirk.

"Shut the fuck up." You hissed in reply.

This was a common intersection of events, and for today, it was the greeting to one of your electives, to a class that you needed simply for the credit. Nestled in between two of your pals, Joshua and Jihoon, Jeonghan had a perfect view of all who walked in, including you. How you both shared the same group of friends was beyond your comprehension.

All you knew was that you hated Jeonghan, and he hated you.

"Well, well, well, you'd think we had a pair of cats in this class because of all the fights," Wonwoo commented from beside you, without looking up from his stack of notes. "It's getting bad."

You'd shoot him a scowl that you never had the pleasure of seeing him catch, or maybe he knew this and chose not to for this reason. This was an everyday thing, most people knew this. You stuck with an eye roll and decided to resume your day.

The others have made it their mission to reiterate to you that you can't hate him forever, but considering how long you have and everyday you have to fight with him, you insisted that they were wrong.

It wasn't even your fault to begin with. This years long dispute fazed your minds so completely that if you were both to try and hash things out from the initial moment, you would misremember things and another inevitable argument would insinuate.

All that was known that when you both first encountered the other, you were having a rough day and decided to keep your chin up and not explain yourself. New to assertiveness, you took the wrong way.

The establishment is that the two of you had shown up to a class that had been canceled. That fateful encounter was a little short of a full two years.

"Did you know that you're wearing your shirt backwards?" Jeonghan asked from beside you, knocking you out from the reality of reading the mini poster on the door. You turned to him, mouth ajar. Profanities circled the entirety of your unconscious as you turned to him and mustered the classiest, friendliest, least offended smile.

His expression left little room to think he could have possibly been genuine about it. Nor did his next comment.

"Your eyes are really red, too, and you're wearing two left shoes, too." His tone was unintelligible and once you saw that smile, your rage unsettled completely.

There was perhaps some more said: passive aggressive backhanded comments.

"Do you always state the obvious?" You probably asked. It must have been rude because why else would Jeonghan victimize himself.

"Are you kidding?" Maybe he said.

"Well, do you think I don't realize?"

"Well, there's a lot going on on you. It happens. I think you can relax."

"I don't even know who you are. Don't tell me what to do."

"Alright, alright. Jeez. For all that you're wearing and talking, you sure have a lot of pride and attitude, may I add."

The muscles of your neck tightened at his audacity. If only you knew that this would offer the first of many collisions of tension from him and your own body's hyperactivity.

With the lack of elaboratation, there was no way an argument and rivalry was not going to ensue. Once the argument and backhanded insults had been ping-ponged and the day had concluded to begin a brand new one, you did feel some remorse.

The next day, when class resumed to its usual course, you had fixed your appearance and made sure to whip up a nice statement that would blow over yesterday, so you could both laugh at it and move on, like adults. Despite your hopes, Jeonghan surrounded himself with friends he seemed to make out of thin air and gave you the filthiest smirk you could see when you walked in.

With the class' conclusion, you chose that moment to try and catch him before you went separate ways, but he was waiting for you outside.

"Looking sharp, huh, Y/N?" You furrowed your eyebrows. Why would he use your name just because he knew it?

"Yes, and what about it, Jeonghan?" You retorted already feeling your heart begin to fumble in its trigonometry and physics to maintain your rate.

"Anyway," you go, but he cut you off, scoffing and crossing his arms with a satisfied grin. "Why is everyone so inferior to you, huh? Am I talking to Dr. Superiority Complex? And cutting me off, too."

"Will you shut up, you prick!" You slapped a palm over your mouth too late and his own aloof eyes widened.

Everything else melted away into the timeline of your hatred for him. A professor overheard the very events of that day, knocking your grade down a few points. Soonyoung had encouraged you to take revenge on whoever was causing you trouble, which you did. Ever since then, it all remained the same. How you both never managed to move on from was beyond the two of you.

Since then, your soul has not known peace. Granted, the entanglement with the fiend that he was put you through much turmoil and moments that one could define as nothing other than consistent low points.

Bickering and exchanging banter had nestled into your very habits and schedule, even at your big age.

Neither of your friends liked it. If you asked Seungcheol, he'd say that it made him feel uneasy enough to not hang out with the two of you. The best boy in the world refused to enter the same room as you two.

Tonight, there was an arrangement to play Super Smash Bros on Josh's Switch. Evening came and your stroll to the apartment homes became a path directly into the night. Of course, the dark goaded you on to run, looking back this way and that. Leave it to you making the worst choices and pulling facades over them. You truly should have taken Wonwoo's offer to be picked up.

Instead of running into one of your many friends on the way over, it had to be your greatest enemy driving slowly beside you, chuckling and rolling his window down.

"I'd never pegged you for a scaredy-cat, you prideful, little thing." He laughed from the vehicle. It ran gently and with a robust shape, similarly to one that a rich, teenaged girl would be gifted with. You kept your chin high and gaze forward, trudging on with a frown burning across your lips. "Turning down Wonwoo's offer which would have saved you from this —"

With little thinking, you simply resolved to peering over at him and speaking in one breath of a "please piss off," and it made him laugh all the more.

The heightened scores of muscle in your neck and shoulders noticeably melted, despite the abyss of woods and trashy alleys between the apartment homes. His sickening cherubic eyes were trained on you; he would put it in all the work of guarding you, it seemed.

Right when a bridge was nearing, his miniature jabs came to a halt and he upped the notch by honking at you.

"What?" You shouted, face slack with exasperation.

"Get in the car, I'm serious! Idiot!" Jeonghan nodded emphatically.

After back and forths of deliberation, you groaned all the way into his car, which he locked and unlocked until you threatened to puncture his tires with your pen.

The change in atmosphere followed with your own feelings. A lilac air freshener looped around his Calico Critter car decor as the low a/c filtered the air. At this angle, Jeonghan felt different. You had forgotten to shut the door behind you as you were all too engrossed with reading the pad of his music shuffle queue. His sigh whisked you away from your reading to his eyes.

"You could at least use your head to have gotten us there already. Y/N, seriously, I come out here and reach out a hand to you. Everyday you surprise me: you're so full of pride and you forget everything. I always wait for you to pick a struggle, but I guess you just love choosing every single one, huh!" He enunciated with a flat laugh and you had to frown at that.

The next song of whatever his playlist consisted of queued up some song your heart yearned to follow along to, as if your heart it thousands of times before.

"Sounds a lot like you think you know me, asshole..." you muttered under your breath and crossed your arms, keen on either forgetting about the passenger door still ajar or adamant on not doing it yourself since Jeonghan seemed to enjoy doing whatever he did, which inevitably made your life terrible.

He scoffed aloud. In one motion, he moved his arm around the head of your seat to improve his view.

"Sure, I do. Like I know you're the most insufferable person I've ever met." He tossed a few glances to the door, hoping to continue his game, but you peered over whatever possible dust particles and intrigued moths flutter over his unmoving headlights.

"God, Jeonghan," you sighed, not watching his growing leer.

"God, Y/N," he imitated you with an exaggerated tone.

"Jackass, can I speak? I just... It's been years, I know that much, since you like to preach that I know nothing, but all this time, you act like you know me. Day one, you've talked to me so informally. You always act like you have some right to speak to me and to speak to me like I'm some written character. Is that all you want? Some stupid feud with someone you clearly hate and don't want? You don't know me! You never have and you never will. So, back off."

A readied smirk, typically loaded with a bombshell of a constantly prepared retort, was expected, but to your surprise, his cherubic silhouette expressed an emotion you couldn't quite put in words. His eyes dawdled across your features, every island of flesh but your own eyes.

Wordlessly, Jeonghan then reached over you and your seat to shut the door. He was practically nose to nose to you.

Not another word was spoken, even after you were settled in playing games.

You were nestled between Chan and the arm of the grand futon, fist underneath the suppleness of your cheek.

"Hey, Y/N," Chan whispered from beside you, and you simply nodded, eyes fixed on the screen. "What happened?"

At that, you furrowed your eyebrows and peered over at him.

"Huh?"

His eyes widened in a flash and he shook his head, nudging your arm.

"I just never thought I'd see the day where you and Jeonghan hyung aren't ripping each other's hair out. I was thinking maybe he had a premonition and decided to grow up, but then Seungkwan hyung told us all that he saw you in the car with hyung."

"So, is everyone wondering the same thing?" You asked just at a whisper and Minghao from the opposite side of the sofa yelled, "Yes!"

Wonwoo turned around from in front of you and chuckled, nodding as if he had been waiting for someone to say it.

"Well?" Seungkwan practically shouted from over the couch, standing with arms crossed over his blazer clad chest. "Aren't you two going to tell us what's going on?"

Whoever turned down the volume of the television, even going so far as to pause the game, would pay, but the ice of the awkward cooled off whatever misdirected anger you held.

"Absolutely not." Goosebumps bloomed at the realization that you and Jeonghan had spoken simultaneously.

The two of you made eye contact, silently bickering over how to deal with the situation.

"You know what," Joshua piped up from another sofa, stretching an arm out in mild effort. "I don't think we should question this weird fate tonight; we should be thankful they're civil and in the same room."

The night bled away into comments like that, even as you tried your best to move on, since it seemed to you that Jeonghan was adamant in doing so. You had no business approaching him about why you didn't wish to speak to the other, and clearly neither did he. However, with the racket everyone was making over you and him not constantly doing your thing was eating you up at such a frequency that you were hardly up for continuing the game.

By eleven at night, Seokmin wanted to bake cookies, and unfortunately you had a bad taste in your mouth. Your perception of Jeonghan had snapped within a few minutes and it was crashing down before your eyes. For what reason, you felt you'd never know.

You don't quite remember rising and throwing a few goodbyes, unable to meet their eyes while heading out in a much more informal fashion as you arrived. It could have easily been one of your other friends who followed after you but in this case, it was Jeonghan.

"Hey, numbskull, don't you want a ride back? I give you one here, and you just walk out?" He called from the door, shivering enough to cross his arms into his body. You didn't meet his eyes, merely angling your neck to listen.

"I called my other friend to pick me up," his silhouette buckled into the corner of your eye. "Really wasn't expecting you to follow me out like this."

The colors of his figure shifted and the door shut with a rap behind him.

"Is that really what you want?" Jeonghan's tone dropped with his approach.

"What are you talking about?" It was then that you took the moment to look at him. Jeonghan's face typically held a leer that looked like he always knew more than you, but now, there was a knot of taut muscle where his eyebrows met.

A shimmer of headlights filtered over the anterior of the apartment complex. Your friend-chauffeur had arrived.

"Nothing." He breathed with a smile that almost broke the ice of his expression, but you glanced to the floor before nodding.

"Well, my ride's here." Jeonghan swallowed a lump down and mirrored your action. Part of reality felt like a scene out of a movie because of the loose air of the night but the tension between the two of you was so tight. You turned towards your friend, whose gaze was transfixed to their phone, and when you glanced back, he disappeared.

For the throng of the week's courses, Jeonghan changed his seating arrangement, and no longer seeking explanations to waste yours or his time, you assimilated with the change. Utilizing the pack of independently reticent students as the backdrop, you and him took turns surrounding yourselves by them.

A part of you felt much relieved of the burden of keeping your guard up to such a severe form, which he visibly did, as well. You heard well enough from Soonyoung and Mingyu. An even larger piece of you thirsted for something that you couldn't quite put your finger on.

Since Seungcheol was home this week, to commemorate his return, considering he had a habit of leaving every other week due to sports, he and the crew decided to throw one of those stupid parties where you drink and just meet people. Essentially, the remote of his and Joshua's place flipped topsy turvy when it came to these things, but they didn't mind.

Jeonghan no longer mattered to you nor was he a factor of whenever you had to make a decision. You accepted Wonwoo's and Soonyoung's offer of going and taking you to the party.

It had been six days since you last interacted with Jeonghan, as you had for the past three years.

"Isn't it too early to be drinking? We aren't even there yet." Soonyoung patted you from the backseat, tone thick with distant concern.

Wonwoo eyed you from the driver's seat, hands fastened at the wheel. All you did was shrug, turning back to halfheartedly grin at the boy, and with that done, you continued your trip to finishing the bottle of absinthe in your hand.

Drinking was no new concept to you. Using it to quell some sort of absence that you didn't comprehend was, however. It was something your friends took notice of.

Your arrival was just as rocky as it was from your residence to the party, vision fuzzy and dim.You made your way to the kitchen to rummage through possible brought snacks, even taking a few spare soju and beer bottles for sport. Opening them with a partially working mind inked painful calluses into your hands from the rigid caps of the bottles.

As Seungkwan whistled at your actions, something wet caused you to lose grip of one bottle, tripping to catch it, and before you knew it, there was a minor crowd growing at the sight of your bloody palm.

As loud as everything was, a part of you countered with how silent your world had become since you and Jeonghan wordlessly had gone separate ways.

"Does it hurt?" Minghao asked. You were now at the dining room table, a foldable one with metal legs that were surprisingly still standing despite being kicked in countless times. You shook your head and met the faces of your friends, scanning them for something you didn't know. It barely stung, but a fire lit from behind your eyes.

Soonyoung slapped your arm, recounting to you for the fourth time that you were in a guest room because you cut yourself.

The bass of the music met with the wall across from you and pictured frames of your friends trembled. A couple made out in the corner, limbs sprawled. For the most part, the room changed colors due to the LED lighting, which did nothing to help an intoxicated mind.

"Are you sure?" You asked, doubting Soonyoung's sadly sober mind — he had been ordered not to drink for the night, but Jihoon had promised him that next time, for sure.

Half your hand was bandaged and your head hurt. Pain had nothing to do with it, or the lack thereof, but you still felt like weeping.

As if you had been summoning the devil himself, Jeonghan let himself in without a word, without much of an entrance really, but you knew enough that it was him because you could read the back of his head.

"What did you do?" The timbre of his voice recused the tense knots of your shoulders without your notice. You looked into his eyes. It strangely felt as it had been years since you had done so.

"Hyung, I earned my PHD, that's what I did. I bandaged Y/N here and — "

"Soonyoung," the elder used a tone you were familiar with, one your professors would use when notifying you and him to leave the class after a fight got out of hand.

"Well, Y/N, I'll be on my way then," he announced with a laugh. "Take care of my patient, Jeonghan hyung."

Mirrored glares and giggles were shared between the two until it was just the two of you.

"I was talking to you. What did you do?" He crossed his arms at you, frowning at the slightest. It looked weird on him. His brindled hair crowned his head with few loose ends curling like some flowers towards the sun.

"Hey," Jeonghan waved his hand in front of you, expression all the same. You watched his figure get painted in fuschia with the changing colors.

"What?" You remarked harshly. He sighed loudly and reached out a palm to you.

Perhaps you took too long deciding what he wanted for his liking for him to just grasp it, his firm hand enveloping yours in a way that made you feel as if you were hanging over a pile of hot coals. Jeonghan joined you on the sofa, scanning over Soonyoung's work in the dim lighting.

"You do know I'm studying to be a pediatric nurse, right?" His voice was so silent so it was a miracle you heard it.

"No, what the fuck..." you blurted, confused he was being so informative, about as much he had to be on the first days of any class.

"Well, since you learned something new today," he started, using that familiar tone and you almost smiled. "I need to know if you did this on purpose."

Your lips parted at that.

"I what?"

"You're the only idiot I've ever known to confidently do the illogical thing. I swear, you numbskull, I've gotten so used to telling you it may as well be a catch phrase of mine." He ran his nimble fingers over the lines of the rest of your palm before glancing back up to catch your stare.

"You're crying," the words fell out of his mouth and you expressed your surprise with a bewildered expression. "I..."

Now, this was new territory.

"It's nothing, I don't know why I'm doing that," you shrugged it off and sniffled, a confirmation of your tears.

He scoffed, sitting back and crossing his arms.

"Of course, you'd say something stupid like that!" Jeonghan nudged a plastic bag of napkins towards you, which you took with a grumble to wipe your tears.

"Oh, so it's only me capable of saying stupid things! How come you only hear yourself and think it's me with the idiotic stuff?"

"You calling me an idiot?" He emphasized with a pointed finger towards you and then himself. Life returned to Jeonghan's face in full force.

"Yeah, of course, I am. You're the one who's always running their mouth as if your life depends on it!" You practically screamed.

He grinned, pearly teeth aglow in the dim room before dropping his eyebrows.

"Y/N, you always talk crap about me. Can't you go one day without my name in your mouth? You know what, you should be addicted to shutting the fuck up."

You feigned an impressed surprise but rolled your eyes, almost laughing.

"Ooh you wanna kiss me so bad you don't even know it. Makes you look so stupid."

Jeonghan paused within a heartbeat before angling his head and smirking. You were ready for something equally as dumb as his comebacks, but he reached forward for your free hand and loosely caging you in the arm of the couch. His breath circulated near yours, just like that night in his stupidly cute car.

"And what if I do?" That smile and those words were like ice and fire to your every sense. It was you who actually was unprepared.

"That, wait, you, the-the, God!" You babbled and sputtered, unable to maintain eye contact. He chuckled thickly. Jeonghan was so close.

"That should be my line!" You retorted, all thought processes going haywire and scouring the plain of your mind for something wittier to say. His wicked smile widened.

"So, you do feel the same way?" You all but gasped at the audacity you met with.

"Yes! No, wait, uh, yeah! Never!" Jeonghan failed to stifle his genuine laughter and tossed his head back. "Fine!" You then reached up, taking the collar of his jacket into your curled fist and bringing his lips down to yours.

Judging by his widened eyes, he was not expecting that, but that mattered little. You melted along with it, shutting your eyes. In the next millisecond, he brought you forward with a hand behind your head and another keeping himself upright beside your body.

As everything was, the kisses progressed to a point where you attempted to outdo the other, passionate, quick exchanges building up to shared touches.

Your other hand gripped a portion of his clothes, pulling so nebulously he all but leaned closer towards you. As the other couple had left during the minutes of your petty argument, it literally felt like the moment was offered to the two of you only, no one else.

Jeonghan cheated when he gently tugged on your hair, earning a punched out whine from your lips. He pulled away from your swollen lips to hear it, grinning once you did so.

"You jerk," you muttered hotly, red and ruddy. He smiled and moved a few strands of hair behind your ear gently.

"Y/N, what if I've been wanting to do that for a long time?" He asked, voice a bit strained. You didn't know what to do with yourself, flustered and glancing around.

"Oh," you murmured. The heat practically beat off you in waves.

"You're something else, really. I wasn't sure how long we were going to not talk to the other. I wouldn't have been able to confess and it would have been awkward." He snickered over your shoulder before regaining his proximity with you.

"Wait, so is this your confession? You suck, you're going to have do it again. C minus." He scoffed and sighed at that.

"The kiss, too?" He arched an eyebrow curiously. You slapped his shoulder at that, struggling to keep up with him.

"No, but seriously are you telling me you like me?" A much more serious tone cooled the heat of the moment, and he winced at that.

"From the moment I met you," he began and it was then you realized your facial expression was bitingly skeptical, revealing your feelings about it all. "Do you feel the same way, Y/N?"

"All that teasing and picking on me was just your stupid way of letting me know you like me?" It was Jeonghan's turn to blush from every corner of skin to the other, sighing and covering his face to cope with whatever he felt.

"It took me a while to realize it, alright?!" His tone was defensive, but you knew he meant it lightheartedly. "I just wanted you to know somehow in some way that every time I got to see you, I was grateful. Each and every time allowed me to learn more about you because you're so...you're something else. You've always complained how I don't know you or perhaps the lack of right I have to know you, I always felt I did, but I didn't want it happening for the wrong reasons. Took me a while to realize I didn't want to lose you, that I...wanted a friendship, a relationship, but the longer I sat back and continued to confuse what we had and I wanted was just going to tear us completely. So, luckily, since I'm a genius, I thought to man up about it."

You could only peer at him, letting his words simmer.

"But, if that's not what you want, or you feel uncomfortable in any way at all, just say it. Say whatever you feel." You'd never encountered this gentle tone of his. There were so many more sides to him you wanted to learn.

"I want some time..." you muttered and he nodded, visibly hanging on to your words. "For you to show me that you want me, and you know, for me to process this. I've wanted you for a while, but that voice was so quiet under all the 'I've never wanted to fight someone so bad' and the 'I'm going to implode like a star because of this guy'." You both laughed at that, and it almost felt natural to do so.

"Okay, then," Jeonghan nodded with a contented smile. There went that annoyingly hot gaze of his. So, that’s what it’s always been: hot. "Can we still make out?”

You squinted at him and opened your arms up with a sigh.

“Just kiss me already!”

#seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #ill see myself out #svt imagines #svt scenarios #jeonghan #jeonghan angst #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #seventeen x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt fluff #wonwoo #mingyu #Seungcheol #scoups #seventeen

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imaginedisish · 3 years

Text

Devil’s Advocate (Tenet) Neil x Reader

Chapter 2: I’ll Try Anything Once

A/N: Hi guys! So this sort of feels like a filler chapter, but I hope you still all enjoy it :) And ps...this chapter is based on I’ll Try Anything Once by Julian Casablancas (it’s derived from one of the Strokes’ demos I think)

Summary: You and Neil land in London to some majorly unfortunate circumstances that are too overwhelming for you to handle, but Neil is done letting you get hurt.

Warnings: Death, guns, gunshot wounds, explosions, violence/murder (implied more or less), cursing, minor angst maybe, and yay fluff!

Word Count: 4,191

“Hey,” A voice whispers softly; the familiar sound encourages you to lift your eyelids. “(Y/N), we’re about to land,” The voice whispers again as you feel yourself slowly rocking back and forth. You groggily open your eyes.

The cabin of the plane is dark except for a few scattered overhead reading lights. You notice that your head is still resting against Neil’s chest as his warm hold envelopes you, keeping you pressed tightly against him. A tickle twitches in your stomach as you feel the plane drop down closer to the ground. The tickle quickly turns to terror as you remember where you’re headed. You feel your heart rapidly beat in your chest. You take a deep breath, hoping to suppress your paralyzing fears of being back out in the field.

Neil’s calming voice grounds you. “Are you alright?” He asks, his arms tightening around you. The airplane drops some more, causing the tickle in your stomach to continue.

“I’m not sure,” You respond honestly as you try and swallow your fear in your throat. Of course, it doesn’t work. The airplane drops again, and you pull slightly away from Neil to look out the window. Lights twinkle below you, and you can see Heathrow Airport in the near distance.

The seat creaks a bit as Neil moves closer to you. His cheek brushes up against yours as he peers out the window. His closeness was comforting.

Neil sighs. “I know you don’t want to be here, (Y/N),” Neil says as his right arm wraps around your shoulders again, stealing your attention away from the lights of the towns below. “But it’s going to be okay. We’ll get in, get what we need, get rid of who we don’t, and get out.” He shoots a smirk in your direction.

The plane grows even closer to the ground but the tickles disappear, and nausea fills your stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick,” You complain. Anxiety courses through your veins, worsening your current state.

Neil, with his arm still around your shoulders, shakes his head and pulls you away from the window. “You’re not throwing up here,” He says, chuckling a bit. “Or I’ll be doubled over with you.” You find yourself laughing too, but it’s no surprise. That’s simply what Neil does to you. He makes everything seem like it could be…

Okay.

You were too wrapped up in thoughts of Neil to notice when the wheels of the plane came crashing on the ground. The sound of skid marks screeching against the tarmac gave way for the anxiety to settle back down into your stomach. You shudder, imagining all the things that could go wrong. All the stupid little things that could go horribly, horribly wrong.

You watch as everyone begins to stand up from their seats, walking out into the aisle and grabbing their things from the overhead compartments. Neil gives you a final squeeze before letting go and following suit with the rest of the people on the plane. You look back out the window for a second, contemplating whether or not being in Tenet is worth it at all. There’s so much danger, so much death, so much fear.

And my own father is the enemy, You think.

“Are you ready, love?” Neil calls, breaking you out of your thoughts.

You shrug and stand up from the seat, hunching over ever so slightly as to not smack your head against the ceiling. “I don’t think I’ll ever be, so I might as well just jump without looking, right?”

Neil smiles sadly, almost as if to apologize. “Then I’ll be ready for you, and I’ll catch you when you fall.”

Your heart flutters in your chest at his reassurance, despite the sardonic nature of your comment. “Neil I-,” You say, carefully stepping out into the aisle. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“Don’t thank me,” Neil starts, seemingly minimizing his ability to change your entire mood. “This is what friends are for.”

Right, friends.

Neil guides you out of the plane and onto the bridge. After a short walk, you enter the airport.

It’s a ghost town. Some people are sleeping, slumped over in uncomfortable, stiff chairs waiting for their flight. You had forgotten that the time had changed. You look down at your phone to see that your New York time zone has already been switched to London’s.

3:56 AM

It only takes a few shuffles out to the main concourse for you to recognize how exhausted you are in spite of your ability to sleep on the plane. After all, that had been the most sleep you had gotten since the…accident.

You and Neil walk in silence for a while. It isn’t an awkward silence. It’s the comfortable, relaxing kind. It’s the kind of silence shared by two people who don’t need to talk to share how much they enjoy the other’s company. You take in all the shops and food stores as an attempt to keep yourself distracted from the terror of the mission.

You step onto an escalator, and your attention finally lands on Neil’s face. You had studied it a million times, as odd as that sounds, but you couldn’t help it. You liked looking at him. You liked getting confirmation that he was in fact real and was in fact with you.

“Hey,” You finally speak up. “Aren’t we in your hometown now?”

You watch as Neil’s cheeks lift and the corners of his mouth turn up. “Yeah,” He says back. “I guess we are.” His eyes rest on yours for a second before they flicker down to your lips. It catches you off guard, but the moment is gone just as soon as it begins as you’re forced to step off the escalator. You enter the baggage claim area and head straight towards the exit of the airport.

Conveniently waiting outside the doors is a black town car. You look to Neil, making sure it’s the right one. Neil nods, silently confirming that this is a part of the plan. You open the door and plop onto the seat. You hear Neil open and close the trunk before he takes his spot next to you in the car.

“We live in a twilight world,” Neil says. But there’s no answer.

You clear your throat nervously, reaching underneath your black, baggy, menswear dress pants, clutching onto the small revolver tied against your calf. “He said, we live in a twilight world.”

There’s no answer again. You take the revolver out, aiming it at the man. You look over at Neil and notice that his shirt is undone; he had already taken his gun out. He always kept it under his shirt, attached to his chest. He hunches over, slowly moving towards the man through the center console.

The man’s hat is titled over his forehead. Neil takes it off.

Neil parts his lips. “Fuck,” His voice is shallow. “He’s dead. He’s got a bullet in the center of his forehead,” There’s a panic in Neil’s voice. He looks up to the windshield, and you follow his gaze. There’s no point of entry, no shattered glass.

“So someone else has already been here,” You remark. Neil’s eyes widen as he moves the man’s shirt over a bit.

That’s when the light beeping noise starts.

“SHIT!” Neil screams. “Get out of the car! NOW!” He opens the door on your side of the car and practically shoves you out. You stumble, barely able to catch your balance when your feet hit the ground. Neil sprints to the trunk, opening it up and grabbing the luggage.

You follow behind him, tugging on his arm, trying to pull him away. “The luggage, really?” You shout in disbelief.

Neil secures both bags in his right hand, and grabs your wrist with his left. You both break out into a sprint. “We need to take cover,” Neil says in between breaths, his eyes frantically searching around the taxi area. “Do you see-,”

BOOM!

“FUCK!” Neil yells, practically tripping over his feet as the concrete vibrates violently below. He catches his balance just before he can face plant into the ground.

The car explodes behind you. The heat of the flames radiate on your back. You don’t dare look behind you; you keep running.

You and Neil finally reach a parking lot, and stop for a break.

“What the hell was that?” You whisper, angrily grabbing Neil by the collar and bringing him in between two minivans for cover, just in case anyone had followed you or was planning to attack.

Neil grabs your waist in return, brining you even closer to him. Your breath hitches in your throat as you realize how close you are to him. “They must know we’re here,” Neil says. His eyes are still wide and his breathing is still heavy.

“And the suitcases?” You question with heavy concern, and even frustration, in your voice. “Do you not have firefighters come into your elementary schools in England? Do you not get taught that stuff can be replaced and human beings can’t be?” Your whisper turns into more of an angry shout.

Neil shakes his head in disapproval. “There are explosives in my suitcase, (Y/N). If they detonated we would be dead,” He says, panic still evident in his voice, and a bit of anger as well.

You nod, loosening your grip on his collar. “I’m sorry I just,” You pause, knowing full well what had just come over you. “I just didn’t want anything to happen to you, that’s all.” You feel your eyes becoming glossy. This was the very thing you were afraid of. You were almost blown to bits, and worse than that, Neil could’ve died. The mission was already failing, and it hadn’t even truly started yet.

You shut your eyes tightly, and a few tears roll down your cheeks.

Neil swallows hard, his arms still resting on your waist. “No, I’m sorry. You didn’t know. I shouldn’t have jumped down your throat like that.” Neil pulls you into an embrace.

“It’s okay,” You mumble quietly into his chest.

You let him hold you in silence for a few moments. You needed to process things. You needed to ground yourself. You needed this second with Neil.

You feel yourself dozing off a bit in Neil’s arms. Visions of a bed with a plush comforter and satin sheets play over in your head. It had to be almost 4:30 in the morning at this point.

“How are we going to get to the hotel?” You ask, longing for a good night’s sleep. “And what if they know what hotel we’re staying in?”

Neil pulls apart from you and reaches into his pocket to grab his phone. “I’ll call TP and figure out what we’re supposed to do.” Neil types in his passcode, presses on the screen a few times, and lifts his phone up to his ear.

You look up into the night sky to distract yourself. The stars twinkle lightly, but there’s too much light pollution to get a good look. The cold wind nips at you roughly. You turn to face Neil. He’s pacing back and forth about twenty feet away from you. You try and tune into what he’s saying.

“They fucking know we’re here, what am I supposed to do?” The frustration in his voice is clear. He waits for a response.

“Yeah, she’s alright I guess, but you shouldn’t have forced her out into the field this early,” He pauses again. “No I don’t care that you’re the boss, she wasn’t ready when she left this afternoon and she definitely isn’t ready now!”

Silence, and then another sentence. “No, I’m not letting my feelings get in the way, that’s not what this is.”

Feelings?

“I mean of course it’s because I care about her, you know how I feel…” He trails off, and walks a bit farther away from you. What he says next, you can’t hear.

After a few seconds, he starts to walk back, still keeping a bit of a distance. “Alright, we’ll head over there now,” Neil looks up at you and winks, confirming that there’s some sort of plan set in place.

Neil turns his back to you. “And I swear to God,” He whispers, thinking you can’t hear him, “If she dies, I’m going to kill you.”

A shiver rolls down your spine at his words. You knew Neil cared about you, but you didn’t know he would threaten TP for you, even if it was just a sarcastic threat.

But this wasn’t a joke.

“Yeah okay. Thanks,” Neil says finally. “Talk to you later.” He takes the phone away from his ear and presses the red button to hang up. He walks back over to you. You’re still overwhelmed by what Neil had said on the phone, but you push those thoughts to the back of your head.

You yawn listlessly. “So what’s going to happen?” You ask, ready to crash to the ground in exhaustion.

Neil smiles. He picks up the luggage in his right hand again, and points to the other side of the parking lot. You notice a separate lot filled with rental cars. “TP put in a favor and we’re getting our own car. Looks like you’ll have to deal with my driving.”

You can’t help but smile back at him. You didn’t mind Neil’s driving at all, to be honest. You felt safe when Neil drove. But then again, you felt safe with Neil no matter what he did.

“It’s just on the other side of the lot,” Neil reassures. You roll your eyes at the thought of more walking, but you figured it may be a good time to talk about what you had just heard Neil say on the phone.

Before you can think of something to say, Neil loops his left arm around your waist. His fingers settle on the exposed skin underneath your oversized blazer. Your nerves tingle underneath his touch, and any thoughts you had before disappear from your mind.

After a few seconds, you force yourself to think back to the phone call. “Neil? Can I ask you something?”

“Anything,” Neil says back, smiling down at you.

“The phone call you just had, with TP,” You pause, trying to find the right words.

Neil shakes his head. “Whatever you heard, don’t worry about it, please. I know what I’m doing,” He pauses and pulls you closer to him. "You don’t need to worry about me. I’ll be alright. ” You’re not entirely content with his answer, but it’s enough for now.

After a five minute walk, you finally reach the rental lot. Neil walks over to the man inside of the tiny cube shaped building. You can’t hear what he’s saying, but a set of keys are exchanged, and Neil motions for you to follow him. You begrudgingly pick up your pace to catch up with him.

“What kind of car is it?” You ask. Neil presses the panic button once, and the headlights of a black, Porsche 911 flash across your face.

You go to get into the car, approaching the door on your left hand side, forgetting you’re now in Europe. Neil smirks at you, grabs your hand, and brings you to the other side of the car. He sets the luggage down on the ground, and opens your door, letting you slip inside. Normally, you would have a cheeky response to Neil opening the door for you, but you were too tired now. Neil grabs the luggage, and walks around the other side of the car. He opens his door and puts the luggage in the back seat.

Neil puts the key into the ignition and starts the car. He takes out his phone, and through your blurry vision, you watch as he slides his finger around.

“What are you doing?” You ask. Your voice is barely above a whisper and it’s filled with tiredness. “Just drive,” You order sarcastically, nudging Neil with your elbow. Your sarcasm melts away when you remember the gravity of the situation. “What if they’re already here? What if they’re looking for us?”

Neil puts his phone in the cupholder, and rests his hand on your thigh. “I’m just setting up the GPS and choosing some music, love,” Neil says. “Take a deep breath. TP just arranged for us to stay at a different hotel, and he has eyes and ears everywhere. We’ll be alright.”

Ten decisions shape your life,

You’ll be aware of 5 about,

7 ways to go to school,

Either you’re noticed or left out.

“I love this song,” You say, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“I know,” Neil says. “Try to sleep, I’ll wake you up when we get there.” His voice is calming, and you almost do as he says, but you remember where you are. You wanted to look at the city. You wanted to see it before all the chaos began. You had been to London plenty of times before, but leaving the United States still excited you, even though you were rarely there at all anymore.

When I said "I can see me in your eyes,”

You said "I can see you in my pants,”

That's not just friendship that's romance too.

You like music we can dance to.

The highway goes on for a while, looking reminiscent of highways in America. Grass and trees line the black concrete. There’s no light save for a few street lamps. Each time you start to doze off, you force yourself to wake up. The feeling of Neil’s thumb drawing circles on your thigh doesn’t make it too hard.

Sit me down,

Shut me up,

I'll calm down,

And I'll get along with you.

The trees melt into industrial areas. Car dealerships, stores, apartments, hotels. And finally, after a few more minutes, you’ve hit Central London. The lights are bright and the buildings are beautiful.

Don't don't don't don't it's not safe no more,

I've got to see you one more time.

Neil pulls into a parking garage and finds an open spot. “We’re here,” He says, squeezing your thigh lightly.

You unbuckle your seat belt, carefully open the door, and slide out of the car. Neil grabs the two duffle bags and gets out after you. You head inside the hotel, and Neil checks in. He grabs the keycard and ushers you into the elevator.

The second you enter the lift, worry fills Neil’s face. His brows furrow and he shuts his eyes as he lets his head hit the wall behind him.

“Neil?” You ask. “What’s going on?” Maybe it was the jet lag, or maybe it was the exhaustion, but you feel more confident than usual. You step towards him and grab his hands in yours.

Neil takes a deep breath. “I’m so sorry we’re here,” He says, his eyes still closed, as if he’s too guilty to face you. “I didn’t want to do the mission yet. I really wanted to wait. I know you aren’t ready yet. I just-,”

You wrap your arms around Neil, and hold him tightly against your body. “I’ll be alright Neil, I promise.” His arms wrap around your body in response. You pull away from him slightly, your heart beating rapidly in your chest. You look up into his eyes, down to his lips, and back into his eyes again. Neil brings his face closer to yours, so close that you can feel his breath against your lips.

“(Y/N), I need to-,”

The conversation is interrupted by the dinging of the elevator and the giggles of a drunken couple as they step inside.

The woman speaks up. “Sssorry for interrupting, loves,” She slurs, cackling a bit. Her boyfriend joins in and cackles with her. Neil politely smiles and nods. He picks up the luggage yet again with one hand, grabbing your wrist with the other. He pulls you outside the elevator and into the hallway.

Your heart is still beating wildly in your chest. “Neil, you had something you needed to say?”

But the moment is over. He shakes his head. “We can talk about it some other time, I don’t want to overwhelm you. Enough has happened tonight.” Your heart sinks in your chest. Neil swallows, glancing back over towards the elevator. “And those people seemed off. We should really get inside the room.” You nod, agreeing, and allow Neil to take hold of your hand and guide you down the hall to the suite.

You finally approach the room.

505.

“This is us,” Neil says, setting the luggage on the ground to swipe the keycard. The door unlocks, and Neil press down on the handle. You enter the dully lit room, and immediately flop onto the king bed. Neil smirks at you from the doorway.

He walks inside, and you sigh in relief. “This is so nice,” You murmur, sliding your black converse off your feet. You push yourself further onto the bed so that your head rests on a pillow.

“We should probably shower,” Neil says, crossing the room. He places the duffle bags on the desk by the window. He takes his suit jacket off.

You chuckle. “What, like, together?” You erupt into laughter. There was something about being so unbelievably tired and jet lagged that made you a completely different person. It was like being drunk.

Neil shakes his head and smiles widely. “If that’s what you want,” He retorts.

Oh? Is he flirting with me? He can’t be.

“I-I think I’m t-too tired for a shower a-at all,” You stutter, not sure what else to say.

“Me too,” Neil says. He begins to undo the buttons of his white dress shirt one by one. Suddenly, his chest is completely exposed. You feel heat rising to your cheeks.

He undoes his belt, unzips his fly, and steps out of his trousers. He’s only wearing his boxers now. You had seen him like this a million times, but it still caught you by surprise. He walks over to the other side of the bed, grabs a pillow, and drops it on the ground. He grabs the throw blanket at the edge of the bed and drops it on the ground as well.

You furrow your brows, confused by his actions. “What are you doing?” You ask.

Neil’s blue gaze meets yours. “Setting up camp,” He jokes, sending a smile your way.

You breathe deeply, still riding out on the confidence that being sleep deprived gave you. “Why don’t you sleep in the bed with me?”

Neil inhales sharply. “I don’t want to bother you. You’re exhausted.”

“I think I’d sleep better if you were with me, actually.” You let the words come right out, no regrets. “You make me feel safe, Neil,” You confess.

Neil smiles and bends down, grabbing the pillow and the blanket, placing them back on the bed. He lifts the covers and slides in. You get underneath the covers too. You don’t realize how close you are to Neil until you turn onto your side to face him.

“I’m glad I make you feel safe, (Y/N),” Neil finally responds. Your heart feels like it might burst. You and Neil had shared a bed in the past, but you had only ever been this close inside of one a handful of times before. “You have no idea how much I care about you.”

“You have no idea how much I care about you, Neil,” You say.

Neil pushes himself up a bit, and presses a kiss against your forehead. You’re stunned. “Goodnight, (Y/N),” Neil says, and he reaches over to turn off the lamp next to his nightstand. The room goes pitch black.

“Goodnight, Neil,” You say. Neil turns over to the other side and you do the same. You stay like that for a few minutes, before tossing and turning a few times. Seconds ago you were comfortable, and now you weren’t.

As you laid alone in your thoughts, your anxieties all began to flood back to you. How the fuck am I going to do this? How is this mission going to turn out? This is going to be absolutely impossible. What if something happens to Neil? Your mind races with thoughts. You turn a few more times before you feel a hand on your waist.

“I thought you were exhausted,” Neil snickers.

“I am but-,”

Neil cuts you off. “But that doesn’t stop your mind from racing?”

You turn around to face him. “Unfortunately, no.”

Neil wraps his arms around you, and pulls you into his bare chest. “Is this okay?” He asks.

“Y-yes,” You stutter, pressing your face into the center of his chest.

And finally, for the first night in over a month, you were able to sleep, nightmare free.

So why not try it all,

If you only remember it once?

Sit me down,

Shut me up,

I'll calm down,

And I'll get along with you.

>>>>>Chapter 3

74 notes · View notes

pseudofaux · 3 years

Note

Some more Spicey comte for tipseu? I love that man ❤️

MORE COMTE 4 TIPSEU 4 YOU! 😍😍😍😍😍 Thank you for requesting this, I really really really love him and writing him feels so indulgent I feel bad doing it unless someone is kind enough to ask and let me release the kraken 🤣 (love makes me very stupid, I am sorry)

This turned out longer than I planned but it gets there, I promise!

is Comte a PPG? WHAT IS HE NOT, I ASK YOU

“You’ve put a stop to all my admiring you,” she pouts with a grin. He smiles over her in their bed and the warmth in it curls her toes. He is so full of joy these days, like some door has been thrown forever open and the sunlight in his heart is escaping onto the world at last. He has somehow become more generous, better natured. This is a thing she has learned love can do.

He has also become slightly—only slightly— less sly, and more openly playful.

“Please forgive me,” he begs, ducking his head to chase her mouth for kisses. “I simply” kiss “needed” kiss “to admire you” kiss “instead”.

When she laughs, he cups her face and kisses her cheeks, her lips, her teeth. There’s something freeing her own happiness in their love, as well. These days her joy feels like an endless dawn that shift colors and gives way to delight after delight. .

His breath becomes heavy and she can feel him against her, aroused— always, she now knows and marvels— and insistent in a way that is less polite than he would like, but precisely as needy as she likes. It is a powerful thing, to be desired by a man she desires so much.

“What should we do today?” she asks, putting her arms in their place around his neck.

Le Comte de Saint Germain hums his particular, thoughtful hum, and she has to try not to giggle because if she does that in their bed he will tickle her until she screams and then he will apologize by biting her while he is sheathed by her body (until she screams), and then nothing else will get done that day at all.

It wouldn’t be so bad. But it’s a lovely day and she wants to go to town with him.

“What would you like, mon coeur? I don’t imagine you will let me take you shopping.”

He is grinning, and she cannot help but do the same.

“Maybe I will surprise you,” she offers, and rolls toward the edge of their mattress even as her heart and sex cry rebellion against such foolishness. Denial now for satisfaction later, she reminds herself. To dress instead of returning to bed is a torture only lessened by the hungry way he watches her, and by the soft kiss he lays on the back of her neck when she is done.

—|—

A carriage ride and a boulangerie visit later (they buy only four baguettes and le Comte pays an obscene amount to have them delivered to the mansion so they do not have to carry them), she agrees to accompany him to a boutique. He was handsy in the bakery, pressing all advantage in the quiet shop. His palms found their way around her waist when the cheerful shopkeep turned to slip their bread into a bag, and he kissed the back of her hand before escorting her out the door.

So it is for their own good that she lets him take her into a dress shop before he scandalizes someone. Or before she does, not discouraging his behavior. Thankfully, the bored looking young man there to greet them at the door quickly smartens up when he sees her companion, and ushers them immediately to a private side room. A female attendant tells them she will be in to assist madame when they call for her.

The room is all warm wood and green velvet, with a pretty screen done in darker wood and champagne silk. There’s a small raised platform for her to stand on for measurements and pinning. There’s also a couch of deepest emerald green, and le Comte de Saint-Germain sits on one side and beckon-begs her to join him there.

“What should I try on?” she teases. “Something with a thousand buttons? What are you considering?”

“I am considering the virtue of ravishing you on this settee or asking you to bend over its back, my dear,” he whispers. “Do you have a preference?”

His easy way of promising exactly what she wants goes straight to a low place between her hips. She’s not sure she has it in herself to deny him now, but it will be better—she knows it will be better— if she can. So she calls in the attendant and tells her she would like to look at gowns in brown and blue.

“What game are you playing?” he rasps in her ear as soon as the other woman has left. His body is already over hers on the emerald velvet. “You have not told me the rules, and you know you have made me quite stupid with love, chérie.”

His skillful hands do not touch her waist and cherish her neck as though they are stupid. She is not fooled. “I suppose it is a waiting game,” she tells him. “Until you cannot wait any longer. But do not frighten the employees.”

He calls her a cruel beauty and kisses her slowly and deeply until just before there is a knock at the door and a soft announcement of entry.

She goes to the screen, where the attendant helps her take off the dress she has worn and try on the first gown, lovely brown satin that gleams in daylight and must look even lovelier in a ballroom at night. The woman respectfully takes her hand and helps her onto the little platform in the middle of the room, then adjusts a nearby mirror.

A mirror. Oh.

Their eyes lock as though they have noticed it together, and she hopes they have. A mirror changes things. Perhaps one dress more and they will dismiss the attendant. But only if she can make it that long! There is so much devilish heat in le Comte’s gaze, his brows low and eyes narrow, and any minute she expects him to put one of the knuckles of his beautiful fingers between his lips to test her resolve.

“I like this,” she blurts out, then recovers herself with an apologetic smile. “But I will need to discuss it with my husband. Could you give us a few moments, please?”

The attendant curtsies and gestures to a bell on a small table by the door, and tells them they need only ring whenever they are ready for her to return. She is respectful but clearly not new to this job. She leaves immediately once madame establishes she does not need help back to the floor. And then they are alone in a private room in a dress shop with a mirror.

“Ma femme,” he says, spreading his legs. “Come sit with me and let us discuss this gown.”

“As you say, mon mari,” she says, and carefully steps onto the floor and toward him. As she expects, he is on his feet and pulling her to him before she has taken two steps. His hand is pressed into the hair pinned behind her head, and his mouth his wet against her jaw— her throat— he is moving so quickly her brain cannot register his kisses as quickly as he makes them.

He turns her around, facing the mirror, and begins to undo the line of buttons at her back. He mutters a very low class curse and she puts a hand in front of her mouth to stifle her laughter. When he is in this gentleman’s panic, her sweet Comte, he says the silliest things.

At last, she is free of the dress, and he holds out a hand to help her be steady as she steps out of it, and his other hand gathers it from her feet and tosses the gown onto the seat. It’s even lovelier against the dark green, like a seam of soil in nourished grass. She knows he likes these thoughts, so she shares them.

He says something else shockingly, delightfully rude about a seam he would prefer to see, and then the game is clearly up. In the next moment he’s slipped in front of her, tilted her back over his arm, and put his other hand up her combinations without further preamble.

“You know,” he says onto her collarbone, and then he licks her as though it punctuates his quiet speech, “that it gives me great joy to see you in new dresses.”

“Is that true?” she tries to make the tease airy but his thumb and forefinger are gently, directly rolling a very sensitized part of her between them, and she can’t keep her voice even. He laughs right onto her skin, dark as his gaze from earlier, and she whimpers to get everything she wants so easily. His finger is already pushing inside her, making her feel like she could melt wax with the barest touch.

“There are few greater joys in this world,” he promises, turning them like they are dancing despite the location of his hand. She knows exactly where he’s putting her. When he moves behind her she is only surprised to see how rumpled her reflection is, and has to hope that’s from after the attendant left the room.

“There is one greater joy I am thinking of in particular,” he whispers from behind her. He is not hiding any of the desire in his voice, and she leans against him more heavily, already addicted. She doesn’t think she could tease him if she tried, and she is glad his fingers are working in earnest and not teasing her, either. She has wanted him since before they were flirting in bed.

He kisses her shoulder without breaking their eye contact in the mirror. She feels the tinest, most divine scrape of his fangs, small as needles. They raise heat, not blood. He’s so careful with this.

“When you fall apart,” he says without ever closing his mouth, “Now there is no greater joy than that.”

Her hand clutches at his forearm and her hips move forward toward the mess he is making, then back toward the unmistakable length trapped between their bodies. She fights the instinct to close her eyes and keeps watching the reflection of him loving her. Even over their breathing she can hear the wet, furtive squelch as his fingers spread wide when they leave her body, then push back inside, quicker than a mortal man could move.

“This precise moment,” he tells her, moving his thumb over her like a practiced string player. “Here.” And it is. She sags back against him and he kisses and praises her, lists the things he loves about her body until she covers his mouth with her hand and he kisses that instead.

“Please buy me the brown dress,” she says, “and take me home.”

He tells her it will be his pleasure. They are still in the carriage when he shows her how.

#ikevamp comte #ikevam comte #ikevamp fanfic #ikevam fanfic #ikevamp fanfiction #tipseu

109 notes · View notes

anyoneseenadam · 3 years

Text

Home: chapter one

azriel x reader (acotar)

summary: (y/n) is a daughter of Persephone, still recovering from the trauma of her fall into Tartarus and doesn’t have time for a stupid, handsome, annoying, stunning, injured man. But now they’re stuck together in the middle of nowhere and there only chance of getting home is if she can heal him, and fast.

warnings: big spoilers for mark of Athena and house of Hades, also some for the acotar series, eventual smut, blood, PTSD, graphic descriptions of violence, injuries and torture, enemies to lovers so az is a bit of a dick to start, swearing

word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is the first proper fic I have written in so so so long and i’m legit nervous to post it so pls be nice, plus feedback is always appreciated. there are more parts to come, I’m not sure how many yet but i’m going to try post regularly! message me if you wanna be tagged and i’m gonna try figure out how to make a masterlist :)

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The view from your window was beautiful yet haunting. Your eyes roamed over countless wildflowers, yet your stare would linger on a poppy or a Red Admiral butterfly and you were back there. You were tied down and crying, body and brain equally numb until another searing lash stripped your back of flesh, white-hot pain rushing through your body and forcing an involuntary cry to tear from your lips.

You quickly stood, wiping your hands down your skirt in an attempt to quell the memories surfacing, the ones you had desperately tried to supress since you had fallen. You quickly moved, all but running to the bathroom, needing to do something, anything, so long as it got you out of your head. You stopped when you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, looking exactly as you felt. The dark circles under your eyes from nights spent with hot tears flowing freely down your cheeks and into your hair and ears made you look ghostly, paired with the dull tone your skin had taken on, losing its natural glow. You looked as empty as you felt, a shell of the person you once were.

Tears welled in your eyes, but you quickly moved away, instead walking to the kitchen, the nausea from not eating overcoming you, yet the thought of eating just made you more nauseous. You found an apple at the bottom of a practically empty fridge and cleaned it softly, then used a blade to cut it into four, forcing it down, repeating the benefits it gave your body as you went, the basic information you had learned in your high school biology class, using the information to push through the sick feeling residing in your stomach, and instead focusing on the energy you desperately needed.

Your gaze drifted to the ajar door that led to your expansive garden, the cottage you lived in itself was small, but your garden was your pride and joy, your power sifting through all the plants in it, bringing them to life in ways of indescribable beauty, nearby animals coming to exist in harmony, safe under the care of their protector. But recently the usual vibrancy of the garden was dimming, the grass turning yellow and the plants wilting. There were no deer napping under bushes and barely any birds taking full advantage of the seed you laid out for them. You pushed past the door and into the garden, the plants brightening as you trailed your hands over their leaves. You found your favourite spot to sit in and dragged your fingers through the grass, smiling despite yourself as it visibly perked up, turning greener instantly. Your gaze trailed to a ruby throated hummingbird that had landed on the special feeder you left out for them, your breath hitching at the red colour, mind instantly returning to the dark, unable to tear your eyes away from the innocent bird.

The first thing you remember seeing was red, red water flowing like blood, red rocks beneath your bent knees, and your skin tinted red from dried blood seeping out of the wounds the chains around your wrists had inflicted on you. You sought to remember where you were, your mind drifting back to how you clung to Annabeth, your stomach aching from what must have been a broken rib, even as she was roughly pulled backwards, even as Percy desperately grabbed her, falling over the edge too, not quite reaching Nico’s shaking hand as he desperately tried to save you. You remembered been torn from their grip during the fall, a Fury hoping for a demi-god it could pick apart, you remember Annabeth screaming they would save you. But you don’t remember landing here, and you don’t remember the chains being attached to your wrists and ankles, or your shirt being removed, a choice you decided couldn’t mean anything good. However, you knew you would never forget the dark chuckle you heard behind you. Or the colour red.

Azriel didn’t know where he was. He knew he wasn’t in his world at least, but that was as far as his knowledge went. He was simply tired after a long mission far away from Velaris and his family and had tried to travel through the shadows to his home. Yet here he was, farther away from home than he had ever been and absolutely exhausted. He stepped out of his shadows and had to blink as the tallest buildings he had ever seen came into view. He absentmindedly took a step forward, then another until he was roughly shoved into, a man with a thick accent he couldn’t place swearing at him. His head whipping around as he got his bearings and moved to follow the direction more people than he could believe were walking until the crowd thinned out.

With less people present he slowed his pace, hands drifting to his pockets when civilians stared, old insecurities that never really left him rising to the surface, and instead took the time to admire the strange world he was in. the fashion in this new world was vastly different to his own, groups of girls congregating in tiny shorts and tight tops, next to groups in which there were girls in all black and boys in skirts. There were men and women dressed sharply talking quickly to no-one in particular, with hands pressed to their ears, there were people in rags begging for money and there were people dressed in ways he couldn’t even fathom to understand. By the time he reached the end of the street he was sure he had seen everything, and walked onto a more recognisable street, one with smaller buildings, unlike the magnificent glass structures, made from stone and wood and with friendlier faces behind stalls filled with food he recognized along with food he had never seen before.

He made his way through the market, losing track of time, the initial anxiety he felt seeping away, if he got here, he could easily return home, right? Instead, he chose to focus on the culture of this new world, determined to tell his family of the wonder he had uncovered, faintly hearing different languages from people’s conversation, and music coming from the open window of what he presumed was a coffee shop. He distantly wondered if they could see his wings, as no-one eyes lingered the way he had grown used to, in fact it seemed they couldn’t look at them, he presumed humans in this world simply had a natural glamour preventing them from seeing fae, that being said however, no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t spot another fae.

Eventually he reached the end of the street and decided he should return home now in order to stop his family from worrying, searching for a shadowed alley so as to not draw to much unwanted attention to himself. He walked to an alley that he decided would do the trick, excited to share this adventure with his family, but stopped short when he came face to face with a girl in a short skirt with incredibly pale skin and fire-like hair leaning over a passed-out man, sucking blood from his neck. She looked up when he approached and he saw that her hair was not just fire-like but literally fire, and her eyes were glowing red, and angry. More alike her then came out of the shadows, he quickly counted six, sighing as he pulled Truth-teller out of its sheath.

Shit. I am not in the mood for this.

You strolled through your favourite farmers market in NYC, the colours that filled the stalls always bringing some cheer back into your life, along with the thought of home-made meals and your practically overflowing basket, filled with fruit, vegetables, bread, and other necessities, but not meat, not since the animals started speaking to you when you first arrived at camp, and nothing red, you still couldn’t face that.

You made a quick stop at your favourite coffee place, opting to get your drink to go, only making polite conversation when you had to, and smiling through any other interaction. You were soon ready to leave, basket and dusty blue corduroy jacket slung over one arm, cup in that hand and your phone that the Hephaestus cabin had adapted in the other, when you heard pained grunts and the cackle of a monster you wished you could just forget already from a nearby alley.

You gave a pained sigh, looking longingly at your coffee before chugging it and throwing the cup in a nearby bin, making your way over to the alley. When you got there, you saw an unnaturally dark alley filled with a gaggle of Empousa surrounding a tall, winged man who was fighting incredibly well but clearly hadn’t gotten the celestial bronze memo, as his blade was defective.

“Long time no see ladies” you said, smirking at the growls that tore from the back of their throats as they tore around to stare at you, recognition in their horrifyingly red eyes. “What no hugs, no happy reunions?”

“You.” The middle one snarled, lunging forward, only to be cut down by the thick, green vine you had grown, intertwined with strands of celestial bronze you kept wrapped around your wrists disguised as thin, looping bracelets, and exploding into dust which you nonchalantly wiped from your shoulder.

“Whose next,” you laughed as three of them leaped at you, two staying behind and keeping the winged man, who had taken to staring at you with an unreadable expression, occupied. You destroyed them quickly enough to see the man falter as one of the Empousa force their talon like nails into his side, twisting it and pulling it out. You rolled your eyes, moving to pick up his slack, wrapping the vine around its neck and pulling until it exploded into the fine dust. The man was on the floor now, clutching his side, as you stalked forward to the final monster.

“You know I really just wanted a chill day,” you complained,

“I remember you,” it hissed, smiling at you with razor sharp teeth.

You fought a shudder and forced the memories down, “I’m glad I made an impression.”

“They want you back you know, we never got to finish playing.”

You snarled and went to move, but it was too fast, and you realised your mistake in waiting too long as it released a piercing cry that must have notified monsters from miles away, “shit,” you muttered under your breath, killing it quickly and moving to the winged man’s side.

“Hey, any chance those wings are good at flying,” you asked, “cause we’re about to be swarmed and I really just wanna get home.” You put his arm over your shoulders and dragged him up, grunting under his weight.

“I-it, poison.” Was all he said, fully leaning on you.

“Shit, okay um,” you racked your brain for an idea, furrowing your brows when you saw monsters start coming around the corner, eyeing you like their favourite toy. The man looked up from beneath his thick, dark hair before cursing and tightening his grip on your shoulder.

“Just hold on,” he said,

“What? Wait no!” you shouted, clinging to his arm as suddenly you were engulfed in darkness, only to suddenly be blinded by bright, hot light, forcing your eyes closed.

When you opened them again, you were on a sandy beach facing an impossibly blue ocean. Your mouth fell open and you turned to ask the man some questions, (or yell at him you were yet to decide) just in time to watch him collapse, falling onto the sand with a soft thud, red blood steadily flowing out of his side, the blood draining from your face at the sight.

Shit.

You stared down at the man in disbelief for at least two minutes. He can shadow-travel. Is he a son of Hades? Gods know I don’t need another step sibling. Also, where the fuck am I? Why a beach? Is it LA? I might marry him if it’s LA. A million thoughts raced through your head as you stared at him, guessing that the unnatural darkness you saw before must have come from the shadows you could now see were surrounding him, protecting him from the light and, when you moved closer, you. From what you could see, he was handsome, if not slightly dead looking, thick, dark hair and a lean, muscular build. Wait dead looking? You cursed jumping into action, checking his pulse, relieved when you found it, before moving to his side using the knife you kept tucked into your boot to hack through the leathers he was wearing in order to reveal the gash.

It wasn’t wide but seemed deep as it was gushing dark red blood, you blanched and screwed your eyes shut at the sight, fighting the memories of your own dark red blood. You opened your eyes purposefully not looking at the cut as you used his torn leathers to put pressure on the cut and start dragging him up the beach to an area you could grow the thin vines you would need as makeshift stitches.

Azriel woke to an extreme discomfort in his side, in a place he didn’t recognise. He pushed up into a sitting position, wincing at the reminder of his wound, and looked around, finding himself shirtless, surrounded by trees on a sandy floor. A girl was sitting cross-legged, staring- no- glaring at him and he felt himself return a confused expression, vaguely remembering her as the girl that had killed the monsters that he could have sworn were completely invulnerable.

“What are you?” She asked suddenly, her bluntness taking him by surprise, but before he could answer she continued, “I mean I’m presuming you’re some sort of child of Hades, given you shadow travelled, but I don’t understand what else, cause you’re defo not part human?”

“Hades?” he asked, frowning at the words he didn’t understand.

“Yeah?” she asked slowly, raising her eyebrows at him as if it was something obvious.

He scoffed, “I don’t need to tell you anything.”

“Oh, is that so? No thank you or anything? I mean it’s not like I saved your life and I mean least of all I would expect an apology.” She was rambling as she stared at him in disbelief.

“An apology?”

“Yeah, for getting me stuck here.”

“Where’s here?”

“Fuck if I know,” she threw her hands up in exasperation, “I thought you know, I’ve done enough, I’ll let him find a cure for that poison on his own, I just wanna go home, so I decided lets get my bearings. I’ll find a high place and work out where I am, only to climb to the top of a fucking mountain and realise you got us stuck on a fucking Island!”

He slowly stood, bracing himself on a tree, as she remained sat, levelling him with an unimpressed stare. He shook his head, not needing to babysit this girl, and instead shot up from the ground, flying above the island to see she was in fact correct, there didn’t seem to be land for miles.

Suddenly, a sharp shooting pain went up his right side and he lost control of his balance for a second, all but plummeting to the ground.

“Yeah you shockingly haven’t healed completely yet,” the girl said moving to his side and pushing away his maimed hands from his wound, barely even glancing at the scars, “I have some ideas as to what will cure the poison, but if you want to fly away and leave me to die here, be my guest,” every word was dripping with sarcasm and he fought back a growl at her as she inspected his wound, were he saw he had torn the peculiar, green stitches.

He watched her carefully, not fully trusting her, as she inspected his stitches, furrowing his eyebrows when she significantly paled at the sight of his blood. “What scared of a little blood,” he instantly regretted the biting words when she snarled at him and put more pressure on the wound than was necessary, feeling slightly guilty given she had saved his life, but her attitude was infuriating, and he just wanted a hot bath and food.

“Okay, so here’s what’s going to happen, I’m going to stitch you back up, and then we’re gonna find a lake or some source of fresh water, you’re going to heal extremely quickly so you can take us back home and you’re not going to give me anymore shit? Kapeesh?” The stare she gave him could’ve rivalled his own in terms of intimidation, but instead of challenging her he just nodded, setting his jaw.

“Good. Now, nice to meet you, I’m (y/n),” she said reaching out a hand,

“Azriel.” Was all he said, meeting her small, soft hands in his rough, scarred ones, the difference in texture astounding him, still not entirely used to touch, and ignored the tightness in his chest when she offered him a cocky smirk.

#azriel x reader #azriel #acotar #acomaf #acosf #acofas #rhysand #feyre #percyjackson #greek mythology #heroes of olympus

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kenrik · 3 years

Text

I’ve written a lot of GoUta fics,

Sharing all of them here would take forever. So, just sharing my favorites!

First and foremost, however, I want to say that I adore, absolutely adore (and find myself always re-reading!) onemoreword’s works. These fics are the pinnacle of everything I could want from GoUta. The world this author has created, the grasp they have of the characters -

onemoreword’s writing is simple and straightforward, yet so beautiful, so haunting. They’re the best for me, in a ship with so many awesome authors and stories already. UwU

PrettyKittyLuvsU also holds a special place in my heart!

Their fics are just so pure and deep. Mine’s are really just surface, just to get me through my brainrot fics. 🤣 I’m trying to write stories with deeper insight into the characters in canon, but, it’s taking me forever to build a story. The rules set by the JJK world, their dynamics, the tone I want to achieve of their relationship, are all so tedious to factor in. Most of what I’ve written are AUs and fluff because I just put in the bickering and teasing and call it a day. xD

I’m trying with Still Blue, This Black Sky, but it’s a new fic. And I’ve just come up with a plot. I’m only updating once I have a draft of the entire story. Posting without one is a pain, I lost my way a lot with 01 and Cast Away.

I also reread my fics! I write fanfics after all, so I can read my HCs. Hahahaha

So, if you happen to find my fics fun to read too, we’re in the same boat! xD

Ao3 says I’ve written 21 JJK stories. 🤣🤣

This shipper’s brainrot is too real, too potent. 🤣🤣 I can’t even with my self. 🤣🤣

Here are my favorite stories to reread -

1. Drinking Parties - Canon-Compliant, Funny

A series of oneshots following GoUta go from bar to bar.

And now, there they were. At their drinking party. The drinking party where Gojo said everyone would be going to. It would be fun, he told her. Everyone would have a such a blast, he said.

Honestly, Utahime could only blame herself for being foolish enough to believe him.

This damn idiot. She thought with a glare as she slammed her mug of beer on the table.

"You're really mad." Gojo looks at her with a curiosity. "Why?"

Why? Utahime seethed. "Where the hell is everyone?!" She threw her glass at him. And his infinity just catapulted it away and made a shattering mess on the floor.

"That wasn't nice, Utahime." He shakes his head at her. "It's that time of the month, huh?"

Utahime flushes red the next second. And with an embarrassed cry, she reached out for Gojo's very own glass and flung it at him as well.

"You're paying!" She screamed at him in finality when she's gotten tired of his stupid infinity. And she drops back to her seat and yells for the waitress to serve them a round of beer.

"Drink!" She barks at him when he was just playing with his glass. "Drinking party, my ass." She grumbles to the rim of her mug. And she downed her drink in one go.

2. The Clearing - Series of AUs, Japanese Folklore AU, Samurai AU, Pirate AU

A series of AUs covering soulmates over the course of history.

(Pirate AU)

They were cruising in the high seas when Satoru was leaning on his back against a wooden pillar, idly sharpening his knife. He was whistling to himself when a crew member walks up to him with an anxiousness about him.

"Um, captain," He didn't know what to say; how to say it. "I think I found a stowaway."

Satoru turned to him with a dangerous twitch in his eye.

"What?" He spits with a venom.

And in the next instant, a woman in menswear was thrown before him at the deck.

He took it as a personal offense that anyone dared board his ship without his express approval. Let alone a woman. He spat at her gall. He would have her head, he thinks to himself in a growing spite.

"The sharks are going to be full today." He tells his crew coldly as he looked at the woman who didn't dare face him, whose angry gaze was directed to the wooden floorboards.

"Have any final words before you die?" He asks her to make peace with her inevitable demise.

And when she doesn't speak, Satoru just waves a lazy hand, signaling to his crew to just get it over with.

But before anyone could touch the woman, she speaks in a low voice, "I'll do anything."

Satoru turns to her with a confusion, with a raised brow.

"What?"

And she suddenly looks up at faces him with a fierce glare in her eyes.

"I'll do anything! So, let me stay on board!" She cries. And her hands clench against the wooden boards; the smell of the ocean consuming her; the adventure she's yearned for her whole life was so close she could taste it. "Let me stay!"

Satoru leans back, surprised.

Then, he starts to smile a sinister smile.

"Do you even know what you're saying?"

Utahime clenches her jaw.

"Do you have any idea where we're going?" He laughs at her dryly and crouches down at her; his face patronizing.

"You won't last a day with us."

"You'll get raped."

"You'll get killed."

"You might even just stub your toe and start crying for your mom." He laughs at how ridiculous she was.

Then, he pokes her cheek with the dull end of his knife.

"Don't be stupid."

I can’t even begin to say how much I love this Pirate AU. I love all the AUs in this story. I love everything I write honestly, even if it’s just plain crack. xD

But, they’re just so cute in this AU. I love them so much. And I owe readers a sequel.... 🤣🤣

3. the most valuable relationship to a sorcerer is friendship - Canon-Compliant, Friends at a wedding, Have a serious conversation, about their life as sorcerers

Uta and Satoru find themselves attending the wedding of a mutual friend.

He finds her in a bar alone, nursing a drink. And when her gaze drifts from her beverage to him, she almost spits out her drink.

"What are you doing here?!" She cried at him in dismay. And Gojo just chuckled as he approached her.

"You don't have to be so mad about it." He tells her with a small smile. "I'm on vacation."

"You take vacations?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"Occasionally." Gojo grins at her. "Rarely." He adds. And Utahime frowns at him when he eventually says, "Mostly never."

"You here for the wedding?"

And he laughs again when Utahime just turns away with a deep sigh.

"I am." She sips her drink. And, she fights back the twitch in her eye when Gojo takes the empty seat next to her.

"Shall we go together, then?"

Utahime turns to frown at him.

"You think I came here alone?" She hisses at him in disbelief.

And Gojo just smiles at her. "Didn't you?" Then, he laughs when Utahime relents.

"Fine." She sighs. "I still can't accept that out of everyone I know, I run into you, you of all people, in Hawaii." She groaned to the heavens. And Gojo just chuckles. "In Hawaii, Gojo. Why?" She cried to the heavens for an answer. Why did they have to keep torturing her?

"Must have been something you did in a past life." Gojo offers with a laugh, resting his cheek on the palm of his hand.

Beside him, Utahime's face soured.

4. Sweet - Modern AU, Barista Utahime, Cafe Shop

Uta is worried about the health of one of her regulars.

"I can't, in good conscience, serve you anymore bubble tea."

"You took an oath or something?" He smirks. "Not to over serve poor salarymen with a sweet tooth?"

Utahime raises a brow and bites back her laugh.

"So," The man leaned over the counter with his smile, looking down at the selection of drinks in the menu laid on the bar. "What would you recommend I get?"

"An americano." She simply tells him and slips cups for a previous order into the plastic melder to seal them.

"All right." The patron smiles, too wide, and too familiar for Utahime's liking.

What was wrong with this guy, she couldn't help but frown in discomfort.

"But, add three tablespoons of honey." The man adds, and laughs at the look of disbelief on Utahime's face. "What? Honey's not sugar."

"It is..." Utahime couldn't believe this guy. "Whatever." She sighs and prepares his order. But, instead of the three spoonfulls of honey, she put a single teaspoon.

And when he drinks it in front of her, she laughs out loud at the disgusted, sour look on his face. And he demanded she give him five packets of sugar.

5. Immature - Canon-Compliant, Gojo “teasing” Utahime, First Meeting, Childhood GoUta

Uta finally meets the kid with the Six Eyes.

When the family before them leaves, when they're presented as the Iori house, Utahime is fuming red. But she bites her tongue and keeps her mouth shut in respect for her parents, for her relatives around her.

And when she sees how the six year old looked at her condescendingly, slouched forward on his seat, looking at her with his calculating eyes, seemingly appraising her; she starts to shake in a growing rage.

Then, he smirks. The six year old smirks at her.

And something inside her snaps when he tells her, when he chuckles and tells her,

"Did you know?" He smirks at her with a chuckle in his lips. "Did you know you're so weak?"

Red with rage, before her mother could stop her again, Utahime cries out and angrily grabs the empty juice box in front of her; and she throws it at the six year old; hitting him square on the face.

And he flushes. In an instant, he flushes red. A very, very angry, humiliated red.

"Utahime?!" Her mother cried out in dismay.

And Utahime had to be dragged out before she could get her claws at the six year old and set him straight.

6. Red, Blue, and The Purple Moon - Canon-compliant, Post-Shibuya Incident Arc, GoUta living together, Powerless Gojo

GoUta play house.

"Wow," She mouthed, not noticing how Gojo's face paled. "I actually got to hit you for once." She unconsciously ruffled the hair on the top of his head, making the strongest sorcerer twitch in annoyance.

"I can actually hit you, now." She suddenly gripped his head with some force. And Gojo could only look in horror at the murderous glint in her eyes.

"Utahime..." He tries to laugh it off, the growing tension in the air. And he tries to take Utahime's hands in his, tries to pull her hands off him, when Utahime suddenly looks down at him with a demented glare on her face and started chuckling.

"Gojo," She smiles at him sinisterly. "Do you remember," Her hands started to trail down from his hair, from his face to his neck. "Do you remember how you've been calling me weak since we've known each other?"

Gojo tries to smile back, tries to laugh with her; "Of course," He forces a chuckle. "We have our fun, Utahime!"

"Fun?!" Gojo sees the murderous glint flash in her eyes too late. And the next thing he knew, Utahime started choking him and shaking him like there was no tomorrow.

This is my first fic. I’ve had to rewrite this a lot, since I’m learning so much more about their world and the characters. Still, I really love this. I love the fact that Gojo is powerless. HAHAHA. I will definitely find myself editing this fic again. But I love it already as is.

While I love No Love and 01, and all the other fics, I do not like angst. Just thinking about how it’ll hurt later on is just so painful. I don’t know what’s up with people and pain, but those who’ve read my stories seem to prefer angst. The heck. 🤣 Isn’t JJK canon enough pain for you guys? 🤣🤣

#gojohime #gouta #fanfic #i wrote some #just a few #🤣🤣🤣🤣

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aberfaeth · 3 years

Text

fuck it! comfort fic rec list, inspired by @gukgaksupremacy everyone say thank you abby. not organized in any way and for that im so sorry

i hate to look into those eyes and see an ounce of pain by BookNerd8 aka my dear friend chloe | G | 1k | Guns N Roses

im putting this first because otherwise you might miss it and ur simply not allowed to miss it. no context provided you just *breaking news tornado jail brennan voice* you must read it, please read it, read it now

If You Could Let Me Inside Your Heart by @featherquillpen | G | 2.5k | Leverage

poetic fucking CINEMA!!! this fic is genuinely the most compelling group character study i’ve ever read in my life like the way the team dynamics are portrayed through the lens of psychic magic....its is just art and its so beautiful

Be Gay; Solve Crime by @phonecallfromgod | T | 9.2k | American Vandal

honestly all of anna grace’s fics are incredible but this one in particular is so comforting to me. the slice of life peter sam shenanigans is so well written and the whole thing is just very goofy very soft!

only a full house gonna have a prayer by @iasmelaion | T | 3.5k | 17776

this fic has it all: aliens! the voyager satellites! humanity’s enduring capacity for love and kindness! nine ten and juice are so endearing and funny. also this introduced me to thin blue flame so thank u op for that

on this winter’s night with you by @grasslandgirl | G | 1k | Dimension 20 (The Unsleeping City)

literally i think about this fic once a week. it is possibly the warmest piece of literature to exist ever in the world. sofia and dale deerwatching is something that can be so personal and special and dear to me

A Lock of Your Hair, For Science by moemachina | M | 2.3k | iZombie

i can only wish to ever in my life write dialogue as good as this fic. every single line is absolutely golden and its just. yknow that gifset i reblog every other month of major and ravi being really soft and stupid. this fic has that energy exactly and its so funny and delightful

Hat Trick by @cauldronoflove | T | 14k | American Vandal

sam ecklund a friend to all! this fic takes the lil detail of the truck stop hats and spins a story of friendship in all its different shapes and forms. sam and peter are so sweet in this but so is sam with everyone else like its so wonderful for real

Reggie Horowitz Rekindles the Light by americanhoney913 | G | 4k | Julie and the Phantoms

jewish reggie jewish reggie jewish reggie! for real this fic makes my little jewish heart sing it’s so kind. reggie and the boys, reggie and julie, reggie and ray! all of his relationships are portrayed with so much care and love and it just makes me so so happy

but if i say i’ll see you ‘til the end will you promise to take my hand? by @enobarias | T | 2k | Leverage

a lil postfinale parker POV! parker is so wonderful in this fic, her voice is so strong and well written, and the ot3 in general is just clenches fist soooooo good. tbt to when i found this before watching the finale and thought it was a fix it fic ahahahahahhhahhh

this untitled fic by @handcoversheart-76 | G | 2k | American Vandal

its literally about peter and sam sharing warm sweaters u cannot get more up my ally comfort fic wise!!! the dialogue is so good and theyre just so sweet with each other i am going to cry

if not for love by @eternalgirlscout | M | 5.5k | The Penumbra Podcast (Junoverse)

then love for pitys sake!!! genuinely the best pre-s2 finale jupeter reunion concept to ever grace the planet. it takes reconciliation slowly enough to feel earned without feeling too painful and just. <333 peter nureyev my beloved

the game is already lost by @altschmerzes | T | 9.2k | The Adventure Zone (Balance)

taako receives affection the musical! this fic is all about hugs so naturally it feels like one big long bear hug to read. it is so warm and sweet and the last chapter especially i reread alllllll the time

major triad by @joeslie | G | 4.6k | Julie and the Phantoms

extremely sweet ot3 get together fic! reggie’s pov in this is so earnest and goofy and in LOVE!! chicken soup for the brain soul for sure

flew like a moth to you, sunlight by @gendermybeloved | G | .5k | Dimension 20 (Fantasy High)

pushing my poly bad kids agenda but this fic is genuinely sooooo warm and beautifully written! the prose is literally like sunlight and its just. UGH i love them i lvoe them

Richie Tozier is famous and loves his boyfriend, OK by @teashoesandhair | T | 63k | IT

im literally not even an it person im not a reddie person but every single second of this series is so beyond delightful. its like a media series so its told in the format of comedy specials and mean tweets and wired presents: and its SO funny and sweet!

Yesterday is Here by @cirrus-grey | T | 53k | The Magnus Archives

time travel shenanigans! jonmartin x2! elias bouchard eat my shorts etc! i read this as it was coming out weekly and it was an unparalleled experience. this is a delightful fix it and also a wonderful examination of the archival staff’s relationships!

Fundamentals of Self-Awareness by Rainbowcat | M | 4.2k | Community

goofy and sweet and hilariously written. the study group in this is one big stupid (incredibly stupid) family and troy and abed’s relationship is written so well it makes my heart so warm for real

#i could honestly go on forever but im cutting myself off here #also if there are any authors on here who i couldnt find the tumblr accoutn of who u know pls let me know and ill edit!#please check all of them out if u have read the source material #but also read the first one regardless. u dont have to know a single thing abt guns n roses. my friend chloe sure didnt and she wrote it #c.txt #rec list

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sevlgi · 4 years

Text

don’t want to see you

requested: yes

group: blackpink

pairing: jennie x fem!reader

genre: angst, questionable fluff

contents: fashion designer!au, rough breakup

warnings: none

synopsis: After your terrible breakup 4 years ago, you’re the last person Jennie wants to see at her dream job.

a/n: I accidentally did 4 years instead of two but eh... I’m glad you enjoy my writing!

word count: 2.4k

“This is it, huh?”

Jennie laughs as Jisoo wipes a fake tear away, pouting as she opened her arms for a hug. “Stop pretending to be sad, unnie, you know you’re glad to be rid of me.”

“Never!” the older girl protests, arms wrapping around Jennie. Under the cold winter sky, Jisoo is a source of familiarity and warmth that’s all too hard to let go of. “But I am glad you got this position. It’s been your dream for such a long time, and you gave up your first opportunity for… her.”

As soon as the mention of you slipped out of her mouth, Jisoo winces; she knows that over 4 years after your breakup, Jennie’s still not over you, not in the slightest. The younger girl forces a smile, hitching her designer bag up her shoulder a bit as she detaches herself from her friend. “Yeah. Thanks for sending me off, I’m off to be a successful adult now.”

“Rude!” Jisoo calls out, hands on her hips but a smile beaming across her face. She hopes that Jennie isn’t too affected by her words, and that nothing spoils the day her friend has been looking forward to for years. “I’ll have you know I’m a perfectly successful actress!” She continues waving until she’s just a tiny dot, her younger friend passing through the building’s gate.

Even the air smells fancy, Jennie notes as she steps through the revolving doors. She’s glad she wore an expensive outfit, no matter how cold the skirt is-- name brands are practically glued onto every person in the building. Filtered sunlight shines off of silk scarves and glimmers over fine dresses, heels clicking on the glossy marble floors. Various colognes and perfumes mix in the air, and Jennie inhales with a grin. This is her new life, the one that she’s wanted and worked for ever since she was a child.

The elevator ride up is lonely, of course, but she recognizes the frosted glass door she passes through to reach the office of the man who interviewed her for the position in the first place. “Ms. Kim,” Taehyung greets her, his voice deep and gentle. “Good to see you.”

“You too, Mr. Kim,” Jennie bows politely. Despite the fact that she’s only a year younger than him, he’s interestingly intimidating. “Ah, I thought you said my partner would greet me today?”

Taehyung nods, hands fidgeting with the Gucci blazer he wears. “Yes, we decided your new partner yesterday. Y/N’s just a bit busy, though, so she sent me to greet you first. Come with me to the elevator, your studio’s on another floor.”

Y/N. Jennie’s blood runs cold at your name even as she scurries to keep up with the man’s long legs, memories of screaming and slamming doors suddenly fading into her mind. She does her best to shake it off, though; it’s not like you’re the only person ever with that name. The world doesn’t revolve around her, never mind her shitty relationship from years before. “Oh. I see.”

Professional chatter about work fills the elevator ride; Taehyung’s already a senior at the company and a prodigy with fashion. Honestly, he could be a model as well as a designer, Jennie thinks as he smiles politely, opening her new office door for her. “Please.”

To no surprise, the studio is gorgeous, with floor-to-ceiling windows and sparkling modern furniture. Gorgeous swaths of fabric are displayed on benches all over the room, golden mannequins draped with clothing. Jennie doesn’t stop an exhilarated gasp from escaping her lips as she reaches to touch one of the designs splayed out on the table, and she also doesn’t stop the horrified one when she recognizes the signature on the paper.

Just in time, Taehyung’s deep voice sounds behind her. “Y/N, glad you could make it.”

Jennie turns quickly to face the doorway, and her heart leaps up into her throat as a far too familiar face greets her.

You look a hundred times better than the last time Jennie saw you, she has to admit that. The fancy outfit, probably something you made yourself by the looks of it, suits you perfectly, and your makeup is probably professionally done.

At the sight of her, your jaw drops, though you recover quick enough that your shared supervising officer doesn’t have a reason to suspect anything out of the ordinary. “Hi. Y/N Y/L/N,” you introduce yourself as you stick a hand out to shake. “You must be Jennie Kim.”

“That’s me,” she breathes, still a bit horrorstruck at the sight of you. It’s so difficult to pretend not to know you when Jennie still remembers every inch of you; she almost shudders when she remembers the way your skin felt under her fingertips. “You’re my new partner?”

“Yep,” you nod, biting down on your lip. Jennie remembers that habit of yours; it got annoying sometimes, when you tasted of blood. “I am.”

Taehyung smiles, “Y/N, I expect you to take care of Ms. Kim. I think the two of you will get on well. For now, I’ll leave the two of you to become acquainted, and Jennie, take all the time you need to become comfortable. Please, ask me if you need anything.”

As soon as the elevator door closes again, Jennie relaxes and you go rigid. Her eyes widen as she hisses, “What’re you doing here? Since when are you a fashion designer, Y/N?”

“Oh, good to see you too,” you scoff, turning away and plopping into your desk chair. To her annoyance, you’ve already occupied the side of the room with the better lighting. “I see you’re just as rude as when we broke up, Jennie Kim. No tact or professionalism at all; how did you even get hired?”

“For my talent,” Jennie scowls, crossing her arms defensively. “And you really expect a hello after that disaster? Remember when you got me evicted from my apartment, and we fought for days in a row?”

You sigh and pinch the area between your eyebrows. “I told you time and time again, that wasn’t my fault. It’s just like you to blame me for your own failures, no wonder I got your dream position years before you did.”

An incredulous gasp escapes Jennie’s lips as she tosses her bag down on her desk. From the start, it was an insecurity of hers that you were more accomplished, more successful than her, and she still never expected you to throw it back in her face. “Real mature, Y/N. Did you really usurp my position just to spite me? How childish.”

“I didn’t usurp anything, Jennie.” Standing suddenly, you’re eye-to-eye with Jennie, and she can smell the familiar perfume you’ve always worn. Your eyes are narrowed in anger, nose scrunching in anger. “I have my own dreams too, aside of you, but you’ve never seen that. You’ve always seen me as an object, without my own capability of thought.”

“That-- that’s not true.” She curses herself for stuttering, drawing her chin up. You’re barely inches away from her face, nails digging into your biceps with your arms crossed. “You know what, Y/N? I hoped you changed in these past 4 years, and I hoped that we could stay civil, but you obviously have remained just as much of an asshole as you always were.”

Rounding her desk and sitting down in her chair with a huff, Jennie pulls her computer closer to her. It’s just her luck to see the person she never wanted to see again on her so-called perfect day.

Weeks pass without you and Jennie holding a real, full conversation; to be honest, she knows that any single word out of your mouth would sound rude and conniving, even if you didn’t mean it that way. You fight over the stupidest things- did Jennie take your stapler? Did you take hers? What about that nice sweater you left in the office overnight?

Suffice to say, it’s nothing less than miserable.

Jennie finds solace in Joohyun, who was the one to recommend her for the job. The older woman knows plenty about the disastrous breakup years ago, and is a perfect source of good advice.

“Are you sure you’re not still harboring feelings for her?”

Okay, maybe not-so-good advice.

Spluttering, Jennie coughs on the sandwich she was eating for lunch, Joohyun’s gentle taps on her shoulder not really helping. A few other coworkers stare as they pass by in the cafeteria. “What?”

The other woman shrugs, delicately sipping at a cup of coffee. “You’re obviously not over her, and she you, if you’re still fighting over stupid things. If you didn’t like her anymore and simply hated her, you’d just ignore her existence.”

Jennie scowls, patting at her lips. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. We were miserable in our relationship, Joohyun unnie, and she broke my heart.”

“That doesn’t mean you can’t still love her.” The brunette sounds sage, as wise as the demure blue silk blazer she wears. “You need to have a good talk with her, without shouting or arguing. Get your feelings out in the open, no matter what they may be.”

The younger girl pouts, chewing contemplatively. It’s highly unlikely that you’ll ever agree to a talk with her, as hostile as you are. Maybe Jennie’ll just have to survive like this, arguing with her partner.

She can survive anything for her dream job.

Jennie stares in shock at the huge pieces of fabric missing from every single one of the 5 dresses she was working on, skirts and bodices alike ripped to shreds. “What. In the hell?”

She slams her coffee down on one of the desks, not caring of the brown liquid splatters all over the papers that just happen to be yours. Her eyes sweep the room, narrowing in rage when she finds all of your projects completely untouched.

“Holy shit,” she hears behind her, and swirls to find you standing in the doorway, mouth agape in shock. “Um, that’s an… innovative design?”

Lunging forward, Jennie’s hands connect with your chest, pushing you into the wall. “Did you do it?” she shouts, barely noticing that you flinch when she raises her voice. “I thought you were better than this!”

“I…” You’re lost for words, seeing the sheer anger in your ex-girlfriend’s eyes. “I didn’t! I swear! You have to believe me, Jennie, I wouldn’t stoop so low.”

Her forearm slams into your chest again; you wince, not at the pain, but just at how evil of a person you must be in her eyes. “I don’t.” Her voice is flat and cold as she seethes, “I get it if you hate me, but don’t sabotage me like this. You know better than anyone how important this job is to me.”

She lets go, stumbling back a bit as she stares at her hands. Your sound raw when you ask, “Is that what kind of a person you think I am? Jennie, I may have hurt you, but I’m not evil.”

The other girl bites her lip; some part of her wants to apologize, and another part of her- damn. Maybe Joohyun was right after all. “I don’t care. Stay away from me, Y/N. It doesn’t matter if we’re partners, I don’t want to see your face.”

“Ms. Kim?”

Taehyung knocks on the open door of the studio, stepping inside. His eyes widen at the sight of the fabric shreds that Jennie sweeps into a dustpan. “Ah.”

“Please, call me Jennie.” The girl bows and attempts at a professional smile, though she’s sure that anger still twitches in her eyebrow. “What can I do for you, Mr. Kim?”

“Taehyung, then,” he says kindly. “Someone reported that your designs were destroyed? I came to take a look and evaluate what should be done. This is much more serious than I thought it would be.”

Jennie frowns; she doesn’t believe that it wasn’t you, but she also isn’t the kind of person to be so petty as to ruin your career. “Yes. I’m not sure who did it, and I’d like to know who.”

Holding a shred of fabric between his forefinger and thumb, Taehyung raises an eyebrow. “You don’t have any suspicions at all? Not… your partner, perhaps?”

“Why would you say that?” Jennie lowers her dustpan, schooling herself to look expressionless as she says, “Y/N is just my partner. I have no history with her whatsoever.”

Sighing, the tall man turns with his hands in her pockets. “Jennie, Y/N came clean as soon as Joohyun suggested you for the position. She told me that you two have… a past, and that she feels terrible about it. She requested you to become her new partner, actually.”

Silence falls between the two designers, Jennie stepping back as if to shield herself from information she doesn’t want to know. “What? You must be mistaken. If Y/N told you that she’s my ex, you must know that she hates me.”

Taehyung walks a bit closer, a soft smile on his face when. “Look, Jennie, I know her. She regrets hurting you, I promise, and she’d never want to sabotage you like this. You need to talk with her.”

His shoulder just barely brushes up against Jennie’s as he walks out, pausing at the door to reassure her, “We are reviewing security footage, though, and I promise we’ll have an answer for you soon.”

Once he’s gone, Jennie’s left alone, staring at the shredded remnants of her projects on her desk.

Can it really be that you don’t hate her?

Jennie stares at the bowing employee, Taehyung smiling cheerfully at his desk. You avoid her eyes, counting ceiling tiles where you sit. “This is him, Jennie. He sabotage you. Would you like to tell why?”

The employee looks almost scared as Jennie crosses her arms, eyes flicking to yours and Taehyung’s. “I… was jealous. I wanted to be Y/N’s new partner. I should’ve been the first choice, not someone random that a senior recommended!”

Even as he explains himself, Jennie can only find herself staring at you; when your eyes meet, Jennie’s struck by just how much she’s missed you in the past 4 years. A soft smile from you elicits a feeling she hasn’t known since you left her, a feeling other than heartbreak or anger.

Taehyung fires the employee on the spot, and Jennie feels like she’s in a daze the entire time. After being kicked out of the office so that Taehyung can work, she avoids meeting your eyes in the hallway. “So…”

“I hope you don’t still believe that it was me,” you interrupt, stepping a bit closer to Jennie. “I know I hurt you, Joohyun told me how heartbroken you were. I’ve changed since then, Jen.”

The nickname’s nostalgic, and Jennie is startled when she feels a tear pricking at her eye. “I… I know. I’m sorry for thinking it was you in the first place, I should’ve known.”

Your hand brushes under her chin, tilting Jennie’s face up so that she can meet your eyes. Your expression is soft, no longer guarded, and emotion pulls at the corner of your lips. “I don’t blame you. Breaking up with you was the worst decision of my life, Jen. If you’d let me, I’d like to make it right.”

“What, you want to be together again? It doesn’t work like that, Y/N.” The other girl wipes furiously at her eyes with her hand, not caring if her makeup smears. “You might regret it, but you really did hurt me.”

“Yeah. I did. And I’m not asking to be together again.” You inhale, the corners of your own eyes a little bit wet. “I’m asking for you to forgive me, with time. Give me a second chance, just let me become your friend again. That’s all I want.”

A second chance. Do you even deserve a second chance? Jennie wonders. After everything you did to her, do you deserve to be let in her heart again?

But as you search her eyes for an answer, suddenly so much older and wiser than she remembered you, Jennie knows.

Her hand reaches for yours, soft fingers curling around yours as she smiles, “I’ll try.”

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archonanqi · 3 years

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fragile as dust | 5 - culmination

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🔖 a/n - aaah some stuff finally starts going down in this chapter, thanks y'all for staying patient through the last four chapters. please let me know if you’d like to be tagged for updates! enjoy!

—

“Admittedly,” Zhongli sighed, “I may have gone a little overboard with the food.”

You both peered at the carnage leftover from your feast, the table strewn with at least half of the meal left.

“Are you full?” Zhongli inquired. He wasn’t smiling, but there was unmistakeable amusement in his voice. You nodded — a few minutes ago, you’d felt like you could have eaten everything on the table, but the physical limits of your stomach betrayed you. “Very well. Let’s clean up, then I will show you around the house. How does that sound?”

It still took you by surprise, each time he asked you for your opinion. “It sounds good, Mr. Zhongli.”

—

The first time you touched him was as he handed you one of the plates, as you thumbed over the intricate blue-white markings and felt your fingers brush. You didn’t know it then, but it would not be the last.

He was wearing his gloves, and so it was really leather that you’d touched, but it was electrifying all the same. You winced, searching his features for any displeasure. It was not your place to so much as gaze upon a noble of half his status without permission, let alone touch — you’d been taught that lesson, quickly and very early on.

“Please take this to the kitchen,” he requested, as though nothing had happened. You obeyed with slow, deliberate steps, squashing even any thoughts of dropping the fine china. Gingerly — how in Celestia was even the inside of his fridge elegant? — you set it down, closed the door and almost jumped out of your skin. He was standing right behind you, arms crossed as he studied you, features unreadable.

“Tell me a little about yourself, Hansi.”

Small talk? Or a test? Surely, certainly, he wasn’t genuinely curious? You felt naked under his probing gaze, still clad in that plain white dress. Had it really only been a day since you’d met Zhongli? Every second with him seemed to stretch over the length of a millennia. Instinctively, your hands wandered to your chest, feeling for your Vision. Wasn’t there. Wouldn’t help you even if it was.

I grew up in a shithole with a dozen other people. I stole, robbed, dredged myself through life, you imagined yourself saying to him, just to get sold to a nobleman who thinks I’m too stupid to understand his intentions.

By the way, three nights ago, Rex Lapis smoked up something real good and gave me a Geo Vision I don’t know how to use.

“There is nothing to know about me,” you said, instead, “save that I am bound to you in loyal servitude, and that I will do as you please, Mr. Zhongli.“

“Hm.” Zhongli hummed, a low echo. His golden gaze rend you through Then, rather abruptly, he said, “Let’s begin the house tour, shall we?”

Somehow, his curtness stung. Had you said something wrong? What you’d said — that was the textbook response you were meant to give, no? Regardless, you nodded your obedience, swallowing the fear you felt, as always, at his displeasure.

—

You almost expected there to be a dungeon of some sort hidden behind one of the doors, some skulls, maybe a poor chained up Hilichurl or two.

What you didn’t expect was so many rocks.

And paintings. And scrolls, and trinkets, and jewelry, arranged carefully upon display stands in each room. You remembered how cluttered the drawers were that you hid your Vision in. In the daylight, now that your mind wasn’t clouded with as much fear and fatigue, you were realizing just how much stuff Zhongli owned.

(Vaguely, it brought to mind images of dragons — the billowing, fire-breathing, treasure-hoarding creatures you’d read about in one of the many storybooks you’d stolen. You shook that image out of your head. Zhongli was plenty intimidating, even without a set of horns and fangs.)

“—and this is the bathroom,” Zhongli said, pushing open the door. The bathroom, on its own, was bigger than the shack you’d shared with four other families growing up. In the middle of the room, the dark marble floor gave way to a large, circular bathtub — it looked a little like a pool. “You are free to use it, and anything in it, whenever you’d like.”

The idea of a hot bath was heaven, but you were a hundred percent certain that your current state — dirt-caked fingernails and unkempt hair and all — was all that was keeping you safe. If you got nice and clean, who was to say what he would decide to do to you?

No, you would avoid taking a bath as long as you could.

Zhongli closed the door, and hesitated. “Hmm. There is less than I thought to show you,” he admitted. “These other rooms are simply full of items I’ve collected over the years, and I’m sure they would bore you.“

“It would be my pleasure to hear more about them,” you said, quickly. You wanted to keep him talking; as long as he was talking, he was doing nothing else. Besides, you found yourself growing more and more intrigued about Zhongli — only so that you could read him better, you promised yourself.

“Well, then far be it from me to deny you your pleasure,” he said. “What would you like to know more about?”

You glanced around, gaze landing on a small, glass standing display case. Two gemstones sat side by side in it, both a rich, translucent gold — like his eyes, you thought. “What are those?”

“Cor Lapis,” he said, and you heard a hint of something in his voice. Pride? “They were a gift, from someone close to me.”

“Are they worth a lot? They’re so pretty.” You bit your lip. They were probably worth more than the average Liyue merchant would ever earn. Pretty? Really?

“In terms of Mora, yes, they are worth no small amount,” Zhongli replied. “However, their value far surpasses material currency, for these are prime Cor Lapis samples from Mount Hulao.”

“Hulao... in Jueyun Karst?” You’d heard the rumors that floated between drunk fishermen and merchants, of the dangers of the mountain, of those who entered and came back changed. You had never put much stock in them — drunk men would say just about anything.

“Yes. And as I’m sure you know, Jueyun Karst is a dangerous place to venture into, without the proper precautions.”

“Dangerous… even for you?” You glanced at the Vision hanging off his waist. You couldn’t imagine a situation where Zhongli would ever be forced to break that collected facade of his.

“For any human.”

You found yourself enjoying the light conversation — you couldn’t remember the last time you’d spoken to another person like this. “Who gave you these?” You tried to smile, and it came easier than you expected. “They must have been really nice, to give away something so expensive.”

Immediately, you regret opening your mouth. Zhongli’s eyes darkened, and his face fell visibly.

“Yes. She… was certainly very kind,” he said, quietly. He looked as though he wanted to say something else, but didn't. Couldn’t.

Was? You wanted to kick yourself. Of course you’d manage to bring up his dead friend in your first real conversation with him. The next seconds of silence were almost unbearable. Finally, you spoke up with the first thing that popped into your head. “So, you like rocks?”

By the Archon, weren’t you on a roll today.

You were pleasantly baffled to hear him chuckle, a deep, throaty rumble from the depths of his chest. “Yes, one could say that I am fond of them.” He said, amidst soft laughter. “And you?”

“I don’t know much about them,” you admitted, “but the ones you have are beautiful, Mr. Zhongli.” So was his laugh.

“Is that so?” He asked, the previous conversation seemingly forgotten, as he strode over to a case across the room, “perhaps you will find these to your fancy as well — these pieces of Noctilucuous Jade were mined from the deepest mines of the Mingyun...“

—

By the time Zhongli had finished regaling you about his rock collection, the sky outside had become a smear of pink and orange, the sun drifting barely over the horizon. You hadn’t even noticed the time — Zhongli simply had the kind of voice that demanded wholehearted attention.

“I seem to have gotten carried away again,” Zhongli smiled. Was it just you, or were his smiles coming more frequently? “Thank you for being such a good listener, Hansi.”

You nodded in response, not quite sure what to say to that. The praise had a strange, warm feeling spreading through your chest.

“All that’s left of the house is the library upstairs,” he paused, the tacit question clear on his lips.

You froze. Ever since you started stealing to survive, you’d made a point to sell everything that couldn’t be eaten. Jewelry, hairpins, no matter how pretty, no matter how much your heart ached to put them on, went straight to the pawn store. But you could never sell books. You couldn’t bear to give up the worlds within them, the promises that one day you would be able to live as freely as the heroes of those stories.

So you stole. First from Wanwen bookstore, then when the owner learned to watch for your grubby hands, from bags and pockets and homes. You devoured them like hot meals, kept them under the floorboards of your corner, read them out loud to the kids who lived with you, read them till the dirt from your fingers had smeared the words to unrecognition.

You wanted to see Zhongli’s library, so badly that it hurt.

But to tell him this would be to admit to him that you’d stolen those books, that you taught yourself a skill that someone of your social class didn’t deserve to learn. Something you weren’t worthy of.

“I can’t read anyway,” you lied.

“I see,” Zhongli said. “Then, shall we go and get some dinner? Are you feeling well enough to make a trip to Liyue Harbor? I know the most splendid restaurant.”

—

You thought that things were going relatively well, that you were doing a fine job of squashing the unease and distrust of Zhongli that still gnawed at the corners of your mind. You were giddily excited, even, to be going to a restaurant for the first time.

So, as you two arrived at the outskirts of Liyue, close enough to hear the bustle of nightlife, you certainly weren’t expecting the sudden wave of emotions that knocked you clean off your feet.

It had started small — the unrelenting reminder of how out of place you would look at the restaurant. How out of place you would look in public, next to Zhongli in all his regality. Then: how out of place you truly were — how absurd of you to have started warming up to Zhongli when you knew, with every fiber of your being, what all men like him wanted; when you knew that one day he would grow impatient of waiting for you to offer it.

If you took his dinner, his food, his kindness, what would you begin to owe him?

Suddenly, you couldn’t breathe. The bile that rose through your throat was hot and bitter, and you doubled over and retched noisily into the nearest bush. Vaguely, you could hear Zhongli’s exclamation and his footsteps approaching, but you couldn’t stop until your stomach was empty once again.

You flinched violently at his light touch on your shoulder. “Hansi,” he said, and you were baffled at how genuine his concern sounded, “what happened? What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know,” you whispered, and it was true. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“

“Please don’t apologize. Can you stand?” Zhongli asked, voice low and soothing. “Let’s get you home.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry I ruined dinner.”

“Nonsense, your health is infinitely more important.” He said. “Do you think that you can walk?”

Once again, you nodded. You let him lead you home.

—

When you reached the front door of the house, Zhongli’s hand on your shoulder firm and gentle, something had begun — deep in your heart — to fester. The fear, the confusion, the things that had fallen into place but didn’t quite fit together — it had all been boiling too long, too hot.

“Mr. Zhongli.” You said, as you stepped through the door, once again greeted by a warm gust of air.

“Yes, Hansi?” He asked, close behind. His hand on your shoulder was suddenly heavy, and hot. You shrugged it off, whipping around to stare him in the eyes.

“Please, just— do whatever you’re planning to do to me.” You said, knowing that if you lost your momentum now you would never get it back.

“I beg your pardon?”

“I’m not a child. We both know what I'm here for. When I lived on the streets, two pieces Mora would have earned any nobleman a night -- let alone... however much you’ve spent.” You were vaguely aware of how many lines you were crossing with each word, but there was no stopping the words flowing from your lips now. You could feel your heart thrashing against your chest, anger warming your bones.

“We both know that I have nowhere to run, no way to defend myself, so just DO it already. Be cruel, hit me, whatever, do your thing so that I can stop holding my Archon-damned breath and waiting for the inevitable. What exactly are your intentions with me, sir?”

You paused to catch your breath, and the horror set in suddenly. Your temper had always been the bane of your well-being — you just had to let it get the best of you, every time, didn’t you? Why couldn’t you have just bided your time and waited for his patience to run out later rather than sooner?

Zhongli stayed silent, face pulled into a frown as though he was pondering over your words. Time seemed to slow into a viscous fluid, drowning you in its wake. You glanced down the hallway at your room.

If he raised his hand against you, would you be able to make it to your room? Would you be able to grab your Geo Vision before he caught you, and would you even be able to use it against him, against the years of experience he’s had with his? You knew the answer to all of those questions: a resounding no.

Would he let you live if you apologized? You opened your mouth to beg.

“My intentions with you...” he said, brow pulled down over heavy lids. “Hm. It seems that I must apologize.”

You let go of a breath you didn’t know you were holding. For the umpteenth time since your meeting with Zhongli, you wondered: What?

“I have been trying to let you acclimate to your new life at your own pace, whilst moving on from your old.” Zhongli’s pursed lips were the only sign of discomfort in his composed features. “I did not know that such concerns were going through your head, though I should have seen that your seeming lack of fear was but a facade from your incredibly strong character.”

In the corner of your eye, you saw your hands trembling. You tried to get them to stop. They would not.

Zhongli swept on. “The circumstances of our meeting are... unfortunate. In time, you will understand my intentions in orchestrating our meeting, but for now -- you have been put in a very uncomfortable situation. I am remiss for not having acknowledged this much earlier.”

What?

Zhongli cleared his throat. “Hansi, please listen to me. While you are under my roof, I will never lift a finger to cause you any harm, physically or otherwise. And for as long as you are a part of my household, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you are never again touched by hunger, frost, hardship. That you will never be subject to the kind of fear that’s making you tremble,” he reached out slowly and took your hand, “like this.”

He had done all the speaking, but it was you who had lost the breath from your lungs. Each of his words was a low rumble, earthquakes in their own right. You didn’t know if you believed him, but you so badly, badly wanted to, with every inch of your shaking body.

“I do not expect you to believe me, right now,” he said, as though reading your mind. He let go of your hand, and it fell back to your side, still shaking. “However, you will soon come to learn that I never break my word.”

You were beginning to see why Rex Lapis had chosen to grace this man with a Vision. He commanded — no, demanded — your attention, your respect, your trust, your entire being. There was more to him than the rich, lonely nobleman he seemed to be; in that moment, you had never been more sure of it.

“Is there anything else you would like to ask me, Hansi?” Zhongli asked.

You shook your head, mutely. There were a lot of things you wanted to say to that, but the swollen words stuck in your throat. “Thank you, Mr. Zhongli,” you said, and hoped he heard everything behind it.

Tomorrow morning, you supposed, it’d be alright if you had that bath.

#zhongli #zhongli fanfic #Zhongli fanfiction #Zhongli genshin #genshin #genshin fanfic #Zhongli x reader #fragile as dust #anqi writes #my writing #this is solidly toeing the boundaries of self indulgence/projection #but I hope y'all like it anyway ;;

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