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historiaxvanserra · 2 months

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Every Exquisite Thing | A Regency AU

Summary: The first of the season brings with it so many things; new friends, new enemies, a masquerade ball, and a rakish young gentleman with eyes like burnished gold.

Pairing: Eris Vanserra x Archeron!Reader (Regency AU)

Word Count: 3.1k

This is the first part of a series that had been consuming my thoughs day and night for about two weeks. We don't meet Eris yet but we get glimpses and I like what I see 👀 I just wanted to give a feel for the regency vibe and see if we're feeling it or not! Next chapter well get Eris in all his regency glory and I promise you, he's worth the wait.

The townhouse that your family occupies on the main street of the Ton is unusually quiet this morning, you think. The first of the season typically brings with it an air of frivolity; the ladies in their Spring colors, gentlemen riding horse-drawn carriages through the cobblestone streets and the hum of the city beyond. A myriad of color -- lilacs and honeysuckle, dappled with the greenery that climbs along the facades of the townhouses -- a colorful oasis from the bleak gray and green of a Winter spent in the country.

However, today, the main square, where Pryhtian’s most ancient and noble families convalesce during the fairer months, is blanketed in an oppressive palette of indigo and gray as the last of the Winter’s storms ravages the world beyond Crescent House.

The sound of the howling wind as it rages like a great tempest through the streets rouses you from your perch on the chaise near the dying hearth.

The street below the parlor is veiled in the shadowed hues of the storm and not a soul in town has dared brave the wrath of the elements since the dourpour began. Hail patters dismally against the window panes of your families townhouse and an ice-kissed wind crawls its way along the exposed planes of your shoulders and collarbones and in the distance you hear the distinctive draw of a carriage along the main square, near Forest House. As you near the window you observe the hail as it falls like pearls from the darkening sky onto wet, cobbled streets.

From the oppressive darkness a carriage emerges; a considerable vehicle of polished wood, lacquered with dark emerald paint, the trim and doors are framed with delicate golden embellishments and the doors and rear bear a family crest, obscured by the gloom of the afternoon. The cart itself is drawn by four bay stallions with long, dark manes, sodden with the downpour. From the cabin steps a shadowy figure of a man, once obscured by the oppressive darkness, now illuminated by the lamplight; he’s all dressed in black, save for the white collar of a linen shirt and his long hair, curls away from his face in tousled, auburn waves. He burns most ardent against the bleak afternoon, even in the din of the oil lamps, he looks like something out of one of Feyre’s paintings. Or perhaps the formidable and brooding romantic lead of the romance novels Nesta so adores. Either way he cuts an intimidating figure in the dark streets of the main square. Tall and broad-shouldered, and rather rakish as he stalks up the steps of the townhouse opposite yours.

From your perch overlooking the street you see him turn outward; admiring the graceful planes of his face, the aquiline nose and high-cheekbones falling to the slender cut of his waist and hips and the broad spread of his shoulders and sculpted arms.

It occurs to you then that you have been all too obvious in your voyeurism.

You are watching him.

And he is watching you in return.

The very thought elicits something in you; something dark and sentimental and terribly anxious. It is a cruel, coiling thing, in the pit of your stomach. Some ill-fated omen. A harbinger of your own downfall. The ghost at the feast, or a raven in the night that spells your undoing. Whatever it is, there is a deep sense of foreboding in you at the prospect of what this dark figure might herald in with him.

The tolling of the city bells brings with it a flurry of movement on the street and your eyes meet his strange amber gaze across the way and he scowls. A deep furrow of a brow; the firm set of his jaw, the flex of a pale hand, before retreating into the house.

“Come away from the window girl,” Your mother chastises in her usual cutting tone as she eyes you from her place in front of the hearth. Her gloved hand inspects the fine silk fabric of the dresses the modiste had sent to her. She holds the fabric between those fine-boned fingers and drapes each swatch over the pale skin of her slender arm with a rehearsed ease as she takes the time to scrutinize every hand-sewn seam and embroidered adornment.

“Yes mama.” You say absentmindedly, casting one last longing glance towards the dark facade of the townhouse across the street, where the orange flicker of candlelight illuminates the window..

Your mother is an austere woman with a cutting sort of beauty rather unlike your own. Her eyes are cold and grey and her features, angular; feline in a way that is almost unnerving to look at. Though even in her age, she bares fine, high cheekbones, unblemished skin, and her long golden hair falls over the delicate slope of her shoulder in coiffed ringlets. She had been quite a remarkable beauty in her youth, it had been said. Now all that remains of her lost youth is an oil painting hung above the hearth-- the paint, yellowed and cracked with age-- and the legacy of her ancient and most-noble lineage.

Her piercing gaze falls onto you again as you take a turn about the room, perching on the cushioned bench in front of the pianoforte. You run a hand over the untuned keys and in your wake dust mites filter through the stagnant air.

That piano had once been the beating heart of this room; a symphony of high arching notes that rang through the halls of this house.

It has not been touched since Nesta left.

“You look drawn, my dear,” She says simply, her eyes cruel and unyielding as she looks over you and the fine silk draped over her arm, “green does so very little for your complexion.”

She considers you for a moment longer before turning to the modiste with a quirked brow. The seamstress at least, has the good grace to look apologetically between you and your youngest sister before nodding in agreement to your mother. She murmurs that a deeper shade of green would suit you better, though your mother ignores her entirely.

“Perhaps an emerald tone would suit better” she muses to no one in particular.

“It would make you look more…tempting” The modiste decides with a sly smile to you when your mother looses a shrill gasp. Your mother hums her disapproval once more from her spot in the armchair before turning her attention towards Feyre on the modiste’s podium as the slender woman takes her measurements for the last alterations to her gown.

“You look beautiful Fey,” You say lightly, pulling at your own faded sage gown as you regard your youngest sister, “the silver looks exquisite on you.” Feyre smiles brightly at you from her place on the podium and pulls a few strands of her long, golden hair to frame her face. She looks as though she is wreathed in starlight in the silver gown; the high bust lays perfectly over her chest and the cuffed sleeves are trimmed with silver thread and sheer lace and accentuate the slope of her strong shoulders, the skirts fall in a swathe of silk and chiffon and the pearls and opal sewn into the skirts catch like moonglow in the blue light. She smooths the skirts with a flair of her gloved hand and admires the matching slippers that peek out from the long hem.

“Hmm,” Your mother murmurs lowly, bringing a slender hand to her painted mouth as she assesses the garment carefully, “Yes - the silver favors you, my darling.” Your mother purses her lips once more and nods decisively at the modiste who offers a courteous bow in response.

“I have hopes that the Lady of Autumn might name you her ‘incomparable’, afterall.” Your mother’s voice is frightfully wistful as she casts a look up to her portrait hung above the dying fire. Beside it, on the mantle Nesta’s painted face stares back impassively at you and you feel anxiety twisting within you again. Feyre laughs. A small, disbelieving thing as she thanks the modiste and exits the parlor in favor of her sketchbook.

“She did so love Nesta when she was first presented,” You mother recalls, her eyes glassy as she sips at her cold tea with a grimace, “and your sister does so remind me of her.”

You smile fondly at the thought of your eldest sister; painfully absent for the last few years but missed dearly. Nesta had always bore the brunt of your mother’s cruelty -- until she could bare it no more -- and then you took her place.

“Yes mama, she will do very well at court.” You say genuinely, though your mother can’t bring herself to acknowledge you. You bite down the bitter taste of jealousy when her eyes linger on the portrait of Nesta hung along the mantel. The way her brows dip in a moment of fleeting grief for her favorite daughter.

When she looks at you again you get the sense that looking at you now -- in the pallid light of the storm -- is like looking in a mirror.

It is a mother’s curse you think.

A daughter’s burden.

Breathing deeply as the modiste pins the hem of the dress you find yourself thinking of the happy recollections of your childhood; you think perhaps your mother is reminiscing on those times too.

She had been the only daughter of an Earl somewhere on the continent once. Beautiful and graceful. Green and foolhardy. Named the incomparable of her own social season; she had dreams of an idyllic life in the countryside, summers shaded in the laughter of her many sons, and measured in the unyielding smiles of a good husband.

Of course, as was the way of things, her girlhood ideations had been nought but that-- dreams. Dashed and divided like stardust in a vast twilight abyss.

A series of scandals and bad investments led her to Pryhtian as the sole heir to an old name. A lamb to the slaughter by her own mother, to be the docile wife of some dull Lord, almost two decades her senior

In time, she did the same to her own daughters.

Time is a cruel mistress; and the woman she is now is one tarnished by the years. Imposing and cynical; demanding in a way that it was impossible to please her. In your youth you recall her endless cruelty towards you all, though none more than Nesta.

Her prodigy.

Her pride and joy.

It was that ceaseless need for perfection that drove Nesta away in the end.

So with the wave of her hand she gestures to you to take to the podium.

An ill-fated replacement for the daughter she lost.

Her perpetual disappointment.

The modiste is a young woman, who hails from the continent with beautiful dark hair that fell in coiled ringlets over her shoulders, she speaks to you in a low, velvet tenor and has a thick accent that distinguishes her to the natives of this land. She is favored by many of the young ladies of the Ton for her exquisite garments; each made with richly adorned and embroidered fabrics imported from her homeland. You watch impassively as she records your measurements and swatches a few scraps of fabric against your skin. The woman quickly discards the silver that Feyre had worn and opts instead for gold and offers your mother a few other options for your dresses this season; sapphire and cerulean, emerald and ruby, topaz and onyx.

Then selects a beautiful emerald gown, trimmed with jade and adorned with matching beads and crystals that shine with the glittering darkness of some forgotten forest when the light of the storm outside refacts in their many surfaces. The modiste admires the garment as she holds it up to you; her keen eyes finding yours and smiling brightly and nodding deliberately.

“This is the one,” She says, her accent so thick with delight that it is difficult to fully understand the words, “perhaps the Lady of Autumn might name you her favorite in your sisters place” She offers it jovially, almost in jest but your mother’s face twists nonetheless.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Your mother laughs cruelly as she regards you in the beautiful garment. You think perhaps that in you she sees all the things she hates about herself. Your mother takes a moment to scrutinize you; her eyes reap over every curve and divot of the skirts as they fall against you, every minute details to find fault where she can.

It is a mothers’s curse, not to know a daughter’s pain.

You imagine it is also a mercy too when she looks at you like you are her own reflection.

Her perpetual disappointment.

After another silent moment she nods her head to the modiste and rises to her feet. The tea cup rattles and rings viscously through icy air as she sets it down and wanders towards the doors.

“Oh Feyre darling, you look exquisite!” Your mothers voice is shrill and dripping with pride that elicits a strange sort of jealousy and you swallow down its bitter taste. In the foyer your sister glides down the marble staircase dressed in all her finery.

Feyre has the type of beauty reminiscent of a falling star; all pale skin, that looks like porcelain, dappled with the iridescent stardust that falls from the sky around her birthday each year. Her dress is one of flowing indigo and complemented by intricate silver embroidery along the cuffs and bust, the long line of her neck is adorned with pearls and diamonds that refract in the light of the chandelier; dashed and divided like a million stars in the night sky.

She smiles brightly and her laugh echoes like birdsong around the hall as your mother takes her hand. And almost like an afterthought, your mother regards you with thinly veiled horror at the garment that clings to you like a plate of armor.

A deep merlot gown, inlaid with rubies and pearls; that cast a bloody halo as you step into the light of the chandelier. The skirts bleed into a train made of gossamer thin spidersilk that has a metallic quality to it that makes you feel as though you are some ancient Goddess of love and war.

Aphrodite perhaps, as deadly as she is beautiful.

Your hands, though they tremble, bare many gold rings, each polished to the heavens so that she sees her face distorted in their many unblemished surfaces. There is a part of you that hopes craves your mothers love more than you long to insight her ire.

But that part of you died the day Nesta went away.

“How do you suppose you’re going to tempt a man into marrying you dressed like that,” She chastices, pulling at the skirts of your wine red dress, “you look like a common whore.”

“At least a whore is paid to abide the insipid company of boring men.” you counter under your breath as your mother strides out into the street. You catch Feyre’s eye and she smiles at you like a feral cat.

The rest of the carriage ride is spent in solemn silence as the facade of The town hall draws ever closer. You mother’s idle gossip about one Lord of the other hardly seems the rouse you from though as you watch the world beyond this cart pass you by.

The storm had broken sometime around midday and the tempest gave way to sunlight; soft ochre and gold as it filtered through the open windows of your father’s library, where you had spent the afternoon. Nestled into the worn armchair favored by your father and a quiet comfort when he is away. There, in the confines of your father’s study, you allow yourself to dream; of debauched gentlemen and tortured artists. Stories painted with the vivid imaginings of Gothic heroines and vast and sweeping landscapes. Of temptation and sacrifice.

It is a hobby inherited from your sister and one much discouraged by your mother.

But as afternoon bled into night you were called away from the pages of manuscripts written in some foreign tongue. For, the Lady of Autumn’s masquerade ball marks the true commencement of the social season each year. It is a night of mystery and secrets; of dark romance and all things fanciful.

It is the one night a year that you allow yourself to be swept up in the excitement of the season and tonight every eligible Lord and Lady will don their finery for a night of high-arching orchestral music and sweeping dances that herald in the social season.

It is tonight of all nights where the Lady of Autumn will name the incomparable of the season; a young woman both fair and accomplished that will inspire awe and ire in equal measure. For her troubles she might hope to tempt an eligible gentleman into marriage by summer’s end. And as your mother gives Feyre one more adoring look you know that she is hoping that your sister will insight that awe tonight.

The carriage draws to a tumultuous halt outside the doors of the grand town hall and you hear the distant laughter of courtiers. The chatter of the ladies distracts you momentarily and you catch their idle chatter; something about the new Duke and his wicked beauty. A beauty as cruel as he is, they say. Their chatter dies when they meet your eyes and they devolve into mean-spirited whispers about the poor Archeron girls and their absent sister.

“Quickly girls, we mustn't be late.” Your mother instructs and steps from the carriage turning expectantly as you disembark from the vehicle with all the grace you can manage. Your stomach twists in knots and the anxiety is so consuming that it addles your mind. So much so that any intelligent thought you might have had seems to abandon you.

The gardens of the town hallare saturated in the light of the last shadowed sunbeams as they are obliterated by the rapidly falling night; veins of indigo and amethyst that streak across the black. The air is heady and thick with the smell of wildflowers and wine and every now and again you catch the scent of half-burned oak and bergamot’s on the evening breeze.

The first of the season is in full swing and the courtiers look like a jewel toned fire in their finery; swathes of ruby and topaz, dappled with emerald and carnelian. You had felt the shift in the air when the sun had begun to set in the sky; that anticipation so palpable you could taste it. It tastes like wood and wildflowers, undercut with something darker.

You abandon yourself to the thought of it; what he might taste like.

Hedonism; earthy and dangerous as you swallow it back.

In an hour or two, when the stars materialize like a million quarts against the velvet abyss, the Ladies will retreat into the mazes, in twos or threes and their Lords, like hungry wolves will begin the hunt.

A hunt that will last the season

#acotar #acotar x reader #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris x you #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris acotar #eris vandaddy

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shinhoebakuhoekitten · 1 year

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Shinso as a roommate w spice 👀

I can talk about this guy for hours. 🥵

Also send me an ask with a person from MHA and I will say how they are as a roommate. Please advise if you want some spice

I know that some people are sick of the cat and Shinso comparison but I think it is the perfect comparison for him when it comes to being a roommate.

You do not see him often when you first become roommates (and honestly unless you heard him leave his room to go to the bathroom or kitchen you were sure that he just wasn’t there) and it wasn’t uncommon to just say hi in passing once a week or so.

Something changed though once you had been roommates for around 6 months and he was more comfortable around you.

You started seeing him more and more but he did it pretty subtly. It started with him joining you for whatever tv show you were watching- and it rally did not matter what. He watched your (in his words) “pointless reality trash” or “tame horror films” and though he wouldn’t admit he liked them he also watched your “over dramatic teenage shows”.

It got to the point that it was common for you to knock on his bedroom door with a “take out will be here in thirty, I ordered your favorite ramen. Hurry up so we can finish the series tonight.”

What you weren’t expecting was for him to open his door clad in only a towel that was tied lowely on his lean hips as he ran another towel through his shoulder length hair.

“You’re home a bit earlier then usual” he stated, his voice low in a way that you knew he had just been smoking a joint. Just as you thought that you were hit with the smell, making your nose scrunch slightly.

You weren’t against weed but your job did randomly drug test throughout the year so you had not partaken since your first year of college.

“Oh shit, sorry I forgot to spray something before opening the door. I wasn’t quite expecting you home so early.”

“Oh, no worries. I get it.” You felt your heart race as your cheeks flushed with heat. You had seen Shinso shirtless. It actually wasn’t uncommon to see him that way when you two were watching TV or when he was cooking throughout the week.

He said it was because he ran hot, but you swear he continued to do it only after he saw you no so subtly check him out the first time you had seen him shirtless.

“Extra spicy?” He questioned as he back into his room, spraying an air freshener to help combat the smell. It never quite worked but it was nice that he tried.

“What?” You questioned, completely caught off guard as he turned around to look at you, his signature soft smirk pulling at the corner of his pink lips before he bit his bottom lip to try and make it go away. You couldn’t help but notice the blood rush to his bottom lip, making it a bit redder.

“My ramen, did you by chance get it extra spicy?”

“Oh yeah, yes I did. No worries, I know how you like it.”

You could feel the air continue to thicken as your tried to stare anywhere but him but you couldn’t quite take your eyes off of him.

While you had been attracted to Shinso the second you saw him (you mean, you weren’t blind) it had really been the past few months that your crush had gone from a small school yard crush to a full fledged stomach lurching infatuation.

You had honestly couldn’t remember the amount of times that you had spaced out thinking about the indigo haired man and you had definitely lost count of the nights that had ended with your hand down your panties getting off to the thought to him.

“Um, I’m going to get the show ready and listen for the takeout person. I’ll see you when you are ready.” You said quickly, embarrassment an understatement at this point as you got out of his room as quick as possible and walked to the couch.

It wasn’t long before you heard the trill of your doorbell, signaling the delivery guy. As you got up from the couch to get the food you saw Shinso emerge from the small hallway.

“I got it.” He said as he walked passed you quickly, your living room wasn’t very big.

“Oh I haven’t paid the guy yet, let me get it.” You insisted as you stood at the edge of the couch.

“I got it this time, you can get it next week.” Shinso reasoned as he opened the door while also digging into his black sweats for his wallet. He pulled out enough yen to cover the meal with a generous tip before grabbing the bag of takeout and muttering a thanks as he shut the door.

“You know, you said the same thing last week about me paying this week.” You said softly after Shinso had untied the bag and handed you your cup of ramen.

“Did I?” He muttered “must have slipped my mind. No worries, I’ll make sure you don’t get out of it again.” He said with a wink as he handed you your chopsticks.

You couldn’t help the warmth that spread across your chest and neck at the wink, butterflies erupting in your stomach as you thanked him while taking the lid off your food before placing it on the coffee table in front of you as you grabbed the remote to put on the last few episodes of the show that you two had been watching.

Dinner was quite as you tried to pay attention to the show you were watching but try as you might, you couldn’t get your brain to shut off. You made a mental note of needing to watch these episodes alone sometime soon because before this you had been wrapped into the story.

It wasn’t until the finale, the fourth episode you both had watched tonight, that you were able to pay attention. You were completely lost at this point, confused why the main character was in an abandoned farm but you tried to catch up as you watched.

A particularly frightening scene involving a chainsaw man that was wearing body parts of his most recent victims made you a bit jumpy and of course Shinso noticed right away.

“Come here” he whispered as he opened his arms while also putting his feet on the coffee table. It wasn’t completely uncommon for you two to cuddle but it was usually reserved for nights that one you have had a awful day and it never happened after so much sexual tension had been prevalent just hours earlier.

But you also knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth and you were basically crawling to his side without a second thought as you made yourself comfortable by placing your face onto to the chest of his white plain t shirt as he wrapped a long arm around you.

“No scary chainsaw man can get you know” he whispered into your hair. You could hear the grin in his voice as you slapped a hand onto his chest before moving to get up.

“Oh where do you think you’re going? I finally get you in my arms and you think you can leave?” As Shinso said this his arm tightened around you as the other one grabbed onto himself, effectively cocooning you into his side. You couldn’t help the laugh that erupted from your lips as you looked up to his face.

What you weren’t expecting was for his face to be so close to yours. Frozen from shock you continued to stare at him as he stared down at you.

Shinso couldn’t help but look from your eyes to your lips and quickly back to your eyes.

“Tell me to stop and I will.” He whispered as his head began to lean down towards you, his lips quickly capturing yours.

You could feel as he undid his embrace on you while also placing both of his hands on either side of your cheeks.

It didn’t take long before he was deepening the kiss and placing one hand on your hip as his skilled fingers drew random small shapes on your hip.

You broke the kiss, needing to breath. As you stared at him for a second you noticed that your hands had had a mind of their own and we’re both at the edge of his skull, pulling gently on his purple locks.

“Woah” you exhaled.

“Good woah, or ‘oh shit what the fuck did we just do’ kind of Woah” Shinso questioned with a quirk of his eyebrows. You noticed that when Shinso got nervous he talked a lot more the he normally would.

“More like ‘why the hell have we not done that sooner’ kind of Woah” you corrected with a smile.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since you became my roommate, but I also didn’t want to fuck anything up.” Shinso confessed.

Your eyes widened in surprise. Sure there had been some sexual tension, but he had thought you were attractive since you had two met? Why the hell did it take so long then?

“Maybe we shouldn’t waste anymore time then” you said, trying to sound very nonchalant but you could hear the tremor in your voice.

Shinso didn’t need to hear anything else as he grabbed you by your hips and placed you onto his lap.

Where the hell did he get so strong? You wondered as you widened your stance to allow both of your legs be flush with his hips as you straddled him.

Shinso placed a hand behind your head as he guided you back to him while whispering “if you want to stop at any point, tell me and I will. I don’t want to do anything that you don’t want to.”

You couldn’t help but feel your heart melt at the words. There was just something about your roommate that made him very different then most guys your age.

“Same goes for you” you whispered back before kissing him.

It wasn’t long of him kissing you that he began testing the waters by allowing his fingers to inch up a few inches up your shirt as he felt the skin beneath. You gave him permission to do whatever he wanted by tugging harshly onto his hair and moaning.

He quickly made work of taking off your oversized shirt, a twing of a smirk gracing his lips as he realizes it’s one of his black shirts that you must have stole at some point. He made a mental note to tease you a bit later, but for now he had way more important things to do.

As the shirt fell to the floor he couldn’t help but grown at the sight in front of him. He hadn’t realized due to the bagginess of the shirt but you were wearing a bra and damn if you didn’t have the pretties tits he had ever seen.

“No bra” he quipped as he cupped them in his large pale hands, loving the way your soft supple skin felt in them as your back arched a bit at the sensation of him kneading them softly, testing the waters to see what kind of pressure you wanted.

“Almost never when I’m in a baggie top.” You admitted with a flush.

“I’ll have to remember that for the future” he said with a shit eating grin before he latched onto your left nipple, rolling a very expert tongue around it.

You let out a louder moan then you meant to but this only seemed to spur Shinso on as he suckled harder.

“Shin, fuck, Shin, can we take this to one of our bedrooms? Not that fucking on the couch doesn’t sound fun, I just think I would rather be in a bed.”

“So demanding” he teased as his lips popped off of your bud, but in that same breath he grabbed you and hoisted both of you up off of the couch, his hands digging into the fat of your thighs. “My room? I just washed my sheets today.”

“We’re you hoping something was going to happen, Hitoshi?” You teased as you kissed his nose.

“Only every fucking day, also please continue to call me that. It sounds so fucking sexy coming from you and I can’t wait to hear you moan my name.”

“Well, just know I don’t just moan to inflate a persons ego, I have to mean it.” You quipped back.

“Don’t worry, you will.” Shinso said with a wink as he slapped your ass, making you giggle before attaching his lips to your neck and walking you to his bedroom.

Also, don’t worry. You moaned his name all night long.

#this was supposed to be quick #but fuck this man #the things I would do to him #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #bnha #my hero acedamia #hitoshi shinso x reader #hitoshi shinso smut #shinsou smut #shinso x y/n #roomatesAU

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tsukimara · 10 days

Text

➸ "Forever together" Masterlist (Important)

➸ A silent voice / Koe no katachi AU

➸ « Text » = Writing

➸ Warning: Violence, bullying

➸ Chapter 1

𝚆𝚎𝚒𝚛𝚍𝚘ᯓᡣ𐭩

Many people say that life is wonderful and full of happiness. But is it true? No matter how hard you try, everyone will blame you for everything. They'd rather stab you in the back than forgive you. But it's his fault, right? It's all because of him. If it weren't for him, everything would be fine...

Six years earlier

Scaramouche, Heizou and Kazuha went to the bridge that was forbidden to enter. Boys loved to get involved in such activities, regardless of whether they were dangerous or troublesome. They did it all so they wouldn't get bored. They loved entertainment.

"I'll catch up with you anyway, Heizou!" — Young Scaramouche shouted furiously from a distance, chasing Heizou who tried to run away seeing Scaramouche running towards him but was caught by him and pulled back. Kazuha in the distance, who was walking towards them, laughed slightly to himself as he saw his friends rolling on the ground.

"It will hurt if we jump from this height." — Kazuha stated looking down at the water. Scaramouche looked where he was and smirked as he finally let go of Heizou who was trying to get some air — "Then you jump first, Scara."

"Yeah, that's right!" — Heizou agreed as he stood up from the ground, brushing off some of the dirt. Scaramouche just rolled his eyes and crossed arms.

"You'll never know if it hurts if you don't try." — With these words, Scaramouche jumped off the bridge, ignoring the surprised screams of his friends. After hitting the water, he quickly surfaced to take a deep breath. He felt pain as his adrenaline wore off, but he decided he not to tell them it hurt.

"Did it hurt?" — Heizou asked, shouting so that Scaramouche could hear him clearly — "Not at all! Come on guys!"

Kazuha looked suspiciously, not really believing Scara's words, but when he was about to warn Heizou, he was already standing on the edge and jumped with a scream. Kazuha facepalmed but he put his bag aside so it wouldn't get wet in the water, he knew that his friends wouldn't let him live if he didn't do it and jumped into the water.

"That hurt, you idiot!" — Heizou exclaimed as he emerged from the water with Kazuha who was trying to get the leaves out of his hair. Scaramouche just stuck out his tongue at him and swam towards the shore to get out of the water. The weather was warm so they weren't too worried about getting sick. They took their things and headed towards Scaramouche's house.

"Damn, I forgot to take my shoes off." — Scara complained under his breath when he saw the condition of his shoes, they were dirty and soaked.

"They are really dirty, man." — Assented Heizou who was walking behind with his hands in his pockets. Kazuha raised his eyebrow at his friend's shoes — "Do you really want to go home like that? These aren't the new shoes Ei bought you?"

"Yeah, I mean I'll leave them outside and dry." — He answered him without really caring about it. Even if Ei complained about him, he would ignore it. It wasn't that he didn't have a good relationship with his mother, but they weren't particularly close either.

They tolerated each other.

Scara shook his head to stop thinking about it and started walking a little faster when he saw his home. Scaramouche opened the front door to his house, or rather to the hairdressing salon that his mother ran, which was connected to their house.

"Hello, Mrs. Reiden!" — Kazuha and Heizou said at the same time, smiling like angels. The indigo-haired boy just waved his hand in greeting, not really wanting to talk.

"Welcome back, boys." — Replied calmly Ei, who was trimming her client's hair. Scaramouche's mother was very pretty, with long purple hair tied in a braid, shining purple eyes and light makeup. Scara took any leaflet he came across, pretending he was interested — "Do we have any snacks?"

"There's some in the fri-" — After seeing what the boys looked like, Ei immediately stopped talking. They were soaked and dirty, with a few leaves and small twigs sticking out of their hair. The condition of their clothes looked much worse because they were covered with dirt. Scara just looked at her questioningly when she stopped talking.

"How did you get so dirty? Next time use the back door, boys." — Ei said slightly annoyed as she saw dirty water leaking from them onto the floor, both customers just laughed as Ei scolded them and the boys looked down in shame, except for Scaramouche.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

"The 41st daily daredevil contest?" — Ei asked confused as she threw the towel towards Scara who glared at her as the towel hit in the face. Kazuha was sitting on a chair in the kitchen with a cup of water in his hand and Heizou was eating some chips he found, they both had towels tied around their bodies.

"We do this every day after school." — Kazuha announced, drinking the last drops of water from his cup. Heizou nodded in agreement with a proud smile — "Today we jumped off the bridge into the river."

Scara who was drying his hair with a towel just rolled his eyes when he saw Heizou bragging to his mother.

"You guys should stop playing such dangerous games." — Ei said as she crossed her arms looking at them in disbelief — "You two don't have to hang around that idiot if you don't want to, you know?"

Scara just looked at her furiously and threw a wet towel towards her which she caught so he looked away, looking out the window so as not to look at her.

"It's okay, Mrs. Reiden." — Heizou responded, giving Kazuha some chips, which he gladly took. Ei just shook her head and turned her attention to Scaramouche's shoes — "Your shoes are all muddy."

He turned his attention to her and when he was about to answer, she grabbed his cheeks and looked at him annoyed — "Sheesh! Next time you will wash them yourself Kuni!"

Heizou tried not to laugh when he heard Scara's mother call him but he failed so he burst out laughing and Kazuha just chuckled lightly. Scaramouche felt embarrassed and pushed her slightly away from himself as he ran towards the stairs — "I told you not to call me that, you old hag! Die!"

Ei just sighed annoyed and went back to her work. Heizou and Kazuha looked at each other confused but they shrugged and followed Scara who had already gone upstairs.

Scaramouche's room wasn't very clean, but it wasn't very messy either. The two boys sat in different places reading books and Scara played a game on his console to avoid getting bored.

"Where's the next book, Scara?" — Asked Kazuha who was trying to find the book but couldn't.

"In my sister's room." — Scara got up and walked towards his sister's room only to find her on the ground sleeping. He just shrugged and took the book from the table while leaving her room to let her sleep.

"Here." — He handed Kazuha the book who mumbled thanks and began to read. Scaramouche sat back on the floor and continued his game.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

The school day was like any other day. The girls were talking to each other, gossiping about things and the guys were causing some problems. Suddenly, Sucrose walked in and shyly cleared her throat to get her class's attention. She was a shy girl but that didn't stop her from being the class representative.

"Big news everybody...! I heard that a transfer student was going to join our class." — She informed and most of the girls ran up to her to ask about the new student.

"For real?!"

"Yes, I heard Mr. Diluc talking about it in the in the faculty office."

"I wonder if it's a girl or a boy, what do you think Scara?" — Kazuha questioned him while he was just playing with a pencil, not really interested in the new student.

"Who cares? Girls are boring and other boys are losers." — He answered and Kazuha only sweat dropped seeing that his friend was not very happy about the fact that there would be a new person in the class.

Scaramouche was the type of student who didn't pay attention in class but was still able to answer questions he was asked, which is why he got bored quickly and he hated this. He was not interested in any of the things that were discussed in the lesson, he preferred to do something else. So, after school, he went with others to another bridge to jump into the river.

"Woohoo!" — Heizou exclaimed as he jumped into the river with Scara, creating a big splash. Heizou accidentally put some water in his mouth so he started coughing when he tasted it. Scaramouche looked up at the bridge where Kazuha stood looking at them.

"Why don't you jump?" — Scara asked and Kazuha let out a small "huh". When Heizou finally stopped coughing, he also looked at Kazu — "Are you afraid?"

"Oh... Well, actually... From now on, I'm out." — Kazuha replied to them as he rested his chin on his hand looking at trees. The boys looked at him confused, not knowing why the sudden change occurred.

"Didn't I tell you I started cram school?" — A small "nerd" from Scaramouche could be heard in the background, to which Kazuha sighed heavily and he put on his backpack — "We'll be in high school next year, so I want to prepare."

Kazu said goodbye to them, but when he was about to leave, he suddenly heard the boys shouting — "Hey... It's a cat!"

Kazuha quickly turned back and looked out to see the cat Scara was pointing at. The cat licked its paw, it had white fur and blue eyes.

"Let's catch it and keep it as a pet!" — Heizou announced and Kazuha's eyes lit up, looking at the cat. He quickly took off his backpack and shoes to jump into the water.

When they caught it, Kazuha happily carried the cat in his arms and stroked behind its ears, causing the cat to make a purring sound.

"Let's name it!" — Heizou exclaimed as he stroked the cat's head. Scaramouche looked away from them and noticed that the place where his shoes should have been was not there — "Where are my shoes!?"

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

"Are you sure you looked for them properly?" — Ei questioned him, looking at her son who gave off an evil aura — "Yes! I looked for them for two whole hours! I even jumped into the river that's why I'm so wet!"

"You can be kind of absent-minded, Scara. Someone probably stole them when you're not paying attention." — And it was Mona Megistus who spoke. These two didn't like each other, they always called each other names or made stupid pranks at some point — "Shut up, witch! What are you doing here anyway? Couldn't you go to another salon?!"

"Kuni!" — Ei hit him on the back of the head, Mona laughed under her breath and stood up with her hair down — "It's fine Mrs. Reiden."

Scara almost started to push her out of the salon to get her out of there if it wasn't for Ei who grabbed the back of his shirt and looked at Mona with a small smile — "Thank you for coming."

"Of course Ma'am!" — Mona waved to Ei, giving Scaramouche a look and sticking her tongue out at him, which made the boy start shouting at her, but Ei covered his mouth with her hand.

When Mona left, Scara quickly got away from Ei and went towards the regiment to take a few books with him.

"This is probably the worst day of my life. Stupid witch." — Scara mumbled to himself, but when he noticed that there was another customer in the living room, he immediately stopped talking and sighed deeply.

"Welcome." — Scara greeted the customer painstakingly who was sitting on a chair with a hair catalog covering her face, all he could see was [ hair color ]. Noticing that the client wasn't going to answer him, he made an irritated sound, saying something about people not having respect anymore. He decided to leave this person alone and go to his room where Kazuha and Heizou were waiting for him.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

"Aren't these your shoes, Scara?" — Kazuha handed him a photo that showed a boy with shoes that looked awfully similar to the Scaramouche shoes that had been stolen from him. Heizou crossed his arms and leaned against the car parked in front of the hairdressing salon, looking at the photo.

"Yes, that's them, who is this guy?" — Scara asked him as he handed the photo back to him — "A guy from 2nd elementary I go to cram school with. He started wearing them right after yours went missing, and when I asked if he had stolen them, he quickly ran away."

"I see..." — Scara started to think about a plan when suddenly he felt Heizou's hand and grinning. Scaramouche only raised his eyebrow, allowing him to speak — "I have a plan!"

It was a hot day, which bothered Mona terribly. She took her water and when she was about to drink, she heard a boy yelling at everyone to get out of his way. Mona smirked and walked over to him as he stood, wiping his face with a towel.

"Umm... Excuse me" — The boy turned towards her and looked at her questioningly — "A teacher told me to carry some things, but they are very heavy, can you help me?"

Mona smiled angelically at him, making a boy blush slightly and nod in agreement. Mona clapped her hands and showed a boy where things were.

On the other hand, Scara, Kazu and Heizou waited patiently for Mona to bring a boy. Kazuha was leaning against the wall with Heizou. They were hidden around the corner of the school on the stairs outside where no one was because everyone was going to their own class.

"Are you sure you can beat him?" — Kazuha asked his indigo-haired friend who was impatiently looking around to see if a guy or Mona was coming. Heizou turned his head towards them and looked at them surprised.

"Beat him? But that wasn't in-"

"Shh" — Scaramouche shushed him and then he noticed Mona leading a boy behind her, he quickly positioned himself, alerting his friends. Scara blocked the passage for the boy, who frowned as he met his gaze.

"Give back what you stole." — The boy just crossed his arms smirking.

"What if I don't?" — This only made Scara more angry and he punched the boy in the face, causing the boy to lose his balance and fall onto the dirty ground. Scaramouche took this opportunity, roughly grabbing him by shirt to punch him again but Kazuha quickly grabbed his arm shaking his head. Scaramouche just shrugged and put his hands in his pockets, walking away from his friends who were calling him. He no longer cared about his shoes, he just wanted to go home.

The next day, Scaramouche decided to skip school and went to the bridge where he met Kazuha and Heizou talking to each other.

"Are you doing anything today?" — Scara asked as he stood in front of them. Heizou started to think and Kazu nodded.

"Yeah, I'm going to cram school today. I skipped too much so have a nice day guys." — He passed them, waving goodbye. Scara looked away from him and his eyes met Heizou's.

"So it's just us." — At this, Heizou shook his head, making Scaramouche look at him strangely — "Sorry Scara, but I'm out today."

Heizou patted his shoulder as he started to walk away, leaving Scaramouche standing alone on the bridge with no one around. He frowned and hand clenched his hand into a fist. It wasn't like he had to be with someone all the time, he didn't mind being alone, but something made him dislike this idea. And so he spent the whole day alone, playing or reading books in his room, but soon he started to get bored. Lying on the bed with a book, he turned his head to look at the time and saw that only 30 minutes had passed. He sighed heavily and put the book aside, thinking that tomorrow would be a better day.

✦•······················•✦•······················•✦

Scaramouche sat in his seat, constantly clicking on his pen. There was a change of seats so his chair and desk was next to Mona who was not happy about it.

Neither did he.

Their teachers entered the classroom. Mr. Diluc who had beautiful red long hair that was styled in a ponytail, his eyes matched his hair and he was wearing typical clothes that teachers wear, a white shirt with a collar, a black tie and elegant trousers to match the shoes.

"Listen everyone. Today a new student will join us." — Everyone in the class started getting excited and whispering to each other, Scara just rolled his eyes ignoring it all. A girl with [ hair color ] hair entered the classroom, her [ eye color ] eyes were looking down at her legs. Mr. Diluc lightly tapped her on the shoulder, causing the girl to start taking out a notebook from her backpack. This slightly intrigued Scaramouche so he finally looked at what was happening, putting his pen aside. The girl opened her notebook and showed it so that everyone could read what was written there.

«My name is [ Last Name ] [ First Name ]. It is nice to meet you.» — This made everyone look at each other in confusion, Scara rested his chin on his hand as he read — «I would like to get to know everyone through this notebook.»

«When you want to talk to me please use this notebook.» — She flipped to the next page, causing many gasps.

«I can't hear.»

Scaramouche's eyes widened, he had never met someone who couldn't hear. As if she were from another planet.

"What a weirdo!" — Scara said, not knowing that he said it loud enough for the entire class to hear. Mona looked at him in surprise and then smacked him on the back of the head, causing him to glare at her and mumbled — "Stupid witch."

Mr. Diluc just sighed and then lowered himself to [ Name ] height to show where she will sitting. It was an empty space in front of Scaramouche. The girl began to bow to each person in front of her to greet them, and they gladly did the same. Finally, [ Name ] stood in front of Scaramouche, she smiled at him and bowed, making Scaramouche frown and turn his head away from her. Ignoring it, she sat down in her seat, taking her things out onto the desk.

Scaramouche's gaze returned to her. He didn't know her, but something made him dislike her. Was it because she couldn't hear? What normal person couldn't hear?

She was weird.

➸ There will probably be 60+ chapters oh well 🧍

➸ I didn't know I would write so much honestly

➸ ANYWAYS I'm a big Arlecchino simp

(⁠つ⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)⁠つ TAGLIST — @leafyaa , @luvkvni

Red = I can't tag you

#⁀➴tsukimara #⁀➴A silent voice #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x you #wanderer x you #genshin x reader #scaramouche x deaf!reader #wanderer x deaf!reader #scaramouche #wanderer #genshin impact #genshin #deaf!reader #fem!reader

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anlian-aishang · 5 months

Note

For the practice drabble thingie, Sweat/Scent kink? 👁️ 👁️

I just. k n o w. I have this headcanon that Levi always uses baby/scented powder to avoid sweating so much on expeditions/missions, but maybe one day he just runs out of it or rushes out of his room, so Levi gets flustered or self-conscious for the rest of the day or smth, idk I don’t think he would smell **that much**, but… still, he smells pretty masculine, yknow?👁️👁️

Tags: levi x reader [mutual pining], sfw [but fetish-based material], sweat & scent stuff, canonverse, gn!reader Word count: 2700 A/N: Holy hell, thank you, this is exactly what I wanted. nsfw sequel is in the works <3

It was his fucking day off.

Levi was the most cautious when it came to anticipation. Sights no one should have to see had scarred him to the point of learning: if you never got your hopes up, nothing could let you down. That thought rained on most of his parades, but he supposed there was little letdown to be had when it came to the likewise little things. On returns from expeditions, he allowed himself to look forward to the removal of his heavy gear and tight belts. When the smell of fresh-baked bread wafted through the barracks, he let his tongue salivate and his stomach sing. Today would have been his first day off in - he couldn’t even remember - god knows how long. Last night, his stagnant stoicism seemed to float away, head in clouded daydream of how to make this day perfect.

But some days weren’t meant to be perfect.

Instead of birds chirping and the first rays of sunlight that Levi anticipated, it was a series of harsh knocks at the hour of indigo sky that woke him up. Levi startled out of sleep, snapping up with a breathless gasp.

In hindsight, maybe he should’ve said nothing, maybe then they would’ve left him alone. However, being woken suddenly, though a common occurrence, almost always meant disaster in the Scouts. His voice cracked a barely audible “W’What?” No response. Levi coughed and cleared his throat, the return of his scathing tone, “What?”

The knob swiveled. His door creaked. In the shadows of dawn stood a domineering, a commanding, six-foot figure. The leisurely pace with which he entered the room conveyed that there was no life-or-death emergency, and thus no good reason, for having barged in here on his day off. Levi rolled his eyes and scowled, “I didn’t say ‘come in.’”

Erwin ignored his remark and instead cut to the chase. “Supply transports were raided in Trost.”

His mind already set in vacation mode, it was remarkable how quickly his knowledge of the restock had left him, “What?”

“Tug-of-war with the Garrisons and MPs, scouring over the leftover scraps of the materials that were supposed to be.”

“The hell do the MPs need anything for?”

“I’m headed to the capital to find out.”

Too tired to think - let alone attempt - to disguise his confusion. Levi’s brows arced, lips parted as he tried to piece together what the hell this had to do with him. When it dawned, his trademark pout revived.

“...No.”

“So you’ll take my stand, running morning drills in -” Erwin checked his pocket watch - “twenty minutes.”

“I’m off today.” Levi refuted. “Get Miche or Hange to do it.”

“They’re coming with me.” Erwin’s eyes were dead set, nearly offended, don’t you know I’ve thought of this already? “Unless, of course, you want to make the trip.”

To yak with the higher-ups? He would sooner crawl through mud.

Though he was given a choice, he took pity at his situation: “Bullshit…” Levi cursed beneath his breath, his version of whining.

Impatient, Erwin tapped his foot, “Are you going to get up or would you like to sit here and talk about our feelings?” The commander’s voice was starkly monotone, despite the sarcasm dripping in his statement.

Levi could play that card, too. “Are you going to leave or are you just here to watch my bare ass roll out of bed?”

Right. Erwin turned on his heel, door slammed in his wake.

His impulse was to throw his head back on his pillow and an arm over his face, but twenty minutes - he didn’t even have the time for that. Levi bunched his sheets in his hands, so angry that his fists trembled, and swiveled his legs over the edge of his bed. A pang of nausea and a sharp headache, his body was pissed at him for the violent disruption of his sleep cycle. Levi held his forehead in hand and shook, blame eyebrows, not me.

Levi’s limbs felt heavy, like he had just come indoors from a rainstorm. Clouds of colorful swears and harsh grunts propelled him through his morning routine. A three-minute shower, trimming his bangs, toothpaste and mouthwash followed by tea. One of many identical uniforms was laid out on his dresser, but before that…

From head to toe - undercut nape, under the arms, the shelf of his pecs, between his thighs, and finally his feet - Levi always applied a handful of drying agent. At this time of year, headquarters could seriously reek, and Levi refused to contribute to that filth. Pressing his lips together and stifling a yawn, he turned the container upside down. Lips parted, though, when nothing fell out.

Shake. Shake shake.

A blockage, a clump, maybe? But there was no sound. The slightest of twitches in his fingers as Levi delicately, anxiously, twisted off the cap and peered inside.

That’s right. He had made a mental note yesterday, that part of his day off would be dedicated to visiting the market, buying tea leaves, some new briefs, and his astringent powder - all items he was too mortified to order through the Corps. Given the thieving that had just happened, it was not like those supplies would’ve arrived anyway, but now, he would not have the freedom to go out and get them.

With the jar completely open, he considered a few shakes in vain, but the bottle was so empty that he could see the reflection of his dark-circled eyes in the bottom of it. Levi allowed himself a heavy, exasperated sigh as he set the empty vessel back on his bathroom countertop just to loudly smack it into the trash can. Fucking shit.

At least he had showered, but peering out the window and onto the training grounds, he could already see waves of heat radiating off the pavement. Come noon, it would be far worse. Clock ticking, for now, his only solution was to cut down on layers. It was then that he realized how little leniency the uniform lent. Gritting his teeth, Levi reluctantly left his top drawer shut, forgoing his undershirt and underwear. Walking past his mirror, his reflection caught his own eyes: his ivory skin barely yet noticeably peeking through the buttons of his grey shirt. Goddammit, he ripped the brown, canvas coat off its hanger and crossed it tight across his chest. To the harmony of his soles on wooden floor, his inner voice melodized: Could an outfit be both breathable and modest?

Levi could not bring himself to abandon his cravat, so instead of tying it beneath his collar, he let it sling out his back pocket, at the ready to grasp for when he needed to wipe his sweat away. That moment was inevitable, but he preferred not to think about it. He ran his fingers through his hair, base of his hand lingered on his widow’s peak, grinding pressure away like a mortar and pestle. Whatever, he tried to assure himself, as long as no one was around…

At first, he thought he might manage. If they got close enough, they would surely notice the glimmer shining upon his skin. However, by terse orders and points of his fingers, he had maintained a perpetual distance from the hoard of trainees. He was more of a hands-on kind of teacher, opting to join them as they ran laps or learned to grapple through trees. Today, though, he was standing in the shade several yards from the action. If anyone gave him shit for lazying aside, he had an excuse in that he wasn’t even supposed to be on-call today anyways. However, perhaps because he looked particularly irritable and scary, no one dared question his bystanding.

Then came you.

“Levi?”

It was the first time you had ever seen startle on the captain. A simultaneous, steep flinch in each of his shoulders. Hairs stood on end, he whipped his gaze around, “What? What’re you doing here?”

The sight of panic on someone so fearless, it caused you to fret by proxy. “I - I uh…” You had never second-guessed him before, you had never had to. “I’m covering for -”

“Erwin?”

You knit your hands behind your back, a sheepish grin, “He said you’d need help. You know, given the heat…”

Levi crossed his arms and bit the inside of his cheek. How shitty could that oaf be? The truth was that this heat was getting to everyone, yet in his fluster, Levi was sure that not only Erwin knew about his secret susceptibility, but that he had spilled it to the last person Levi wanted to know. No words seemed adequate for response, so instead, he kicked his foot against the barrack wall, leaned back, and deferred to silence.

Something was off, your eyes darted in search for it. His cheeks had been tainted a light red. Luckily, you chalked it up to the temperature, though Levi knew that was not the sole factor. His hair was slicker than its usual light-and-airy allure, you figured he had just gotten out of the shower. That was true, but this damp was sweat, not soap. Your gaze started to descend down his body, and on the way, you noticed it: no cravat.

A dog without a collar. A missing puzzle piece. Mildly irksome yet disproportionately intriguing. It was like he had read your mind, the mocking timing with which he reached back into his pocket and lifted the cloth to his forehead, sighing and swiping. After a couple wringing flicks of his wrist, he folded it and shoved it inside the lining of his tan jacket. His left hand tucked it away, hidden, while his right hand lifted the coat away from his chest, granting him the space to do so. Again, his own state snagged his attention - the dark, drenched patch of fabric at his underarm jumped out like a bug on a wall. Fiercely, he snatched his jacket shut again, praying to whatever was out there that you had not seen.

And though you had not seen the soak of his shirt, his odd behavior was garnering more and more of your attention. Cruelly, that made him sweat even more: not only the sun’s rays, but the blaze of your stare burning onto his skin. He cursed the thickness of his leather boots, the ODM gear that strapped his clothing tight to his skin, the turn of events that had brought you to this moment, his stupid genetics, and his even stupider feelings for you. Thoughts spiraling, humidity could mess with him in ways that titans could not.

If you thought hard about it, you may have realized that his humidity induced the same haze in you. Bangs glued to his forehead. Chest rose high and fell deep - combined with his light panting - made your brain boggle. Now and then, a clear bead of sweat would fall from his temple, down his jawline and neck, before disappearing down his collar - where you noticed that his top button was uncharacteristically undone.

The loud pop! as he uncorked his canteen broke both of your thirsts. Head tilted far back, Adam’s apple deliciously bobbed as he gulped down his water. Lips absentmindedly fallen, your eyes drank as he did.

Levi recognized, pretending that he hadn’t noticed your stare had thus far failed to shake it. He scoffed internally: someone could use some self-awareness, he was literally dripping with it. With a straight-on side-eye, he maintained eye contact as he gradually lowered the canteen from his lips, only to thrash it and splash it upwards into his own face. Still, you gaped like an idiot. Finally, Levi decided: if you were going to be this indulgent, he would be, too. Maybe then, you’d realize. Levi thumbed a leaking drop from the corner of his mouth. After briefly sucking the digit dry, his tongue snuck between his lips to slowly lick them clean.

Stone-cold steel eyes and his soft pink tongue - that was what it took to break your concentration. Immediately, you snapped your gaze down to your toes and silently mouthed sorry.

Despite the heat, shivers somehow managed to seize his figure. With your gaze averted, you thankfully missed them. However, when you no longer had your sight to rely on, other senses instinctively took over. Particularly, scent: aged sandalwood, burnt charcoal, bitter tea. On the training grounds, these smells did not come naturally. And if it were anyone else, you may have cringed at the combination of scents, but upon realization of the one and only source of this musk, you felt your middle warm with inexplicable satisfaction.

Meanwhile, he was squirming: fuck, how badly he wanted to hit the showers. If Erwin had left this assignment to him, he had every right to leave it to the next person. The thing was, that next person was you, the blinking, doe-eyed, fresh promotion who hardly knew their blades from their gas. If you were anyone else, he could see himself saying: take this cash, head to the square and stop at this stand, buy the tallest bottle they have and bring it back to me. Say a word, you’re dead.

But you were the entire reason he strove to keep this secret under wraps. To give you such orders would essentially be a confession, erasing the whole point. Between a rock and a hard place, Levi stood frozen in fever.

The air was thick with moisture and silence. With each breath, the memory of that canteen escapade and his intensifying aura seemed to suffocate you. Internally, he was simmering over how to shoo you away from his disgusting sorry state. On the other hand, you were parsing over how to excuse yourself without being rude.

The 10:00 bell rang, you used it to craft a feigned excuse, “If you’ve got things under control -”

“I do.” In some ways, he did. In others, absolutely not.

“- I’m supposed to help mess out with lunch.”

Levi knit his brows, seemed unlikely, but he would not object. With a slight flick of his head, his gesture released you from post and encouraged you inside.

At the door frame and with his back turned, you could not help but take one last look. At his last end and assuming you had departed already, he finally shouldered that Scouts jacket off, revealing his light-grey button up having turned dark with his sweat. His fist clutched his collar and fanned ferociously, allowing his skin to breathe. Inaudible to the other, you both simultaneously reprieved, “Fuck me…”

At 11 on the dot, Levi and the platoon of morning athletes were in the cafeteria line. So what if it meant they called it quits prematurely? Inside, no one was complaining. Levi was relieved that he did not find you there, hopeful that you were in your room avoiding heat stroke, and oddly satisfied to have correctly suspected your “cafeteria-duties” bluff earlier.

Levi looked like he had been rained on then dunk-tanked. At least, that was how his squad put it, jeering and elbowing, “What happened to you out there?”

They didn’t want to know. He didn’t want them to know. Most of all, he would rather forget this day ever happened. He took his steel tray and made for his room to eat in private - but more importantly, to shower again.

The venture back to his quarters seemed to drag - maybe it was because the dampness of his clothes had weighed him down, or maybe it was because the empty, lone quiet of the halls allowed his consciousness to echo loud and clear: humiliating, huh?

He could not deny that it was fucking humiliating, but for as scathing as the memory of that embarrassment was, the recollection of your rose-colored stare was just as impactful. All along, he had feared that if you witnessed his weakness to heat - more so the sweat and stench that came with it, it would have sent you running the other direction. Self-doubt suggested: they did end up running, though. That mess-hall excuse, them being them, they were probably trying not to offend you as they took cover from your reek. Self-confidence objected, but remember the way they looked at you? Don’t play dumb. You know that look anywhere. They like you - and hell - maybe they liked it.

On his doormat, a tall white bottle and a handwritten note confirmed the latter.

Seemed like you were missing something… …not that I think you need it. - (Y/N)

// masterlist //

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wardenparker · 3 months

Text

Summer Rose

Professor!Santiago Garcia x female OC Co-written with @julesonrecord

Rating: E for Explicit 18+ Word Count: 6k Warnings: OC is named (Daphne Antonelli) but has minimal physical description. Age gap 10+ years. Both parties are consenting adults. Alcohol consumption, mutual pining, professor/student, oral sex (f and m receiving), 69, sexy mythology references, vaginal sex, protected sex, fingernails/scratching, a bit of biting. Summary: Daphne is having an absolutely terrible day and has missed office hours to turn in her final paper to Professor Garcia. When she turns up on his doorstep to turn in her assignment, the professor she's been crushing on for ages offers her a supportive ear -- and help relaxing. Notes: A little collaboration between myself and my beloved Jules featuring a character we've working on (Daphne) and today's wet daydream of college professor!Santiago. Honestly this is just a bit of porn with the barest thread of a plot, and we're not sorry. Also, just a disclaimer that I have no clue how one finishes a masters degree, but it doesn't matter. We're here for the porn, not the threadbare plot.

Twilight is beautiful on campus. Santiago has always thought so, even before he had the letters after his last name that demarcate him as faculty. He enjoys the blush of the sun fading, the purple of the dusky sky fading to blue-black, indigo, then glitter with starlight.

He likes walking home after class this way; a quiet moment to ease his mind after lectures and before grading. This late in the semester, it will be one of the last walks before the summer term. As he passes through the quiet neighborhood and climbs his front doors, he glances up, spies Orion's Belt in the heavens. He thinks about introducing the story next time he holds his Mythology and Myth-Making class. Did he include it this year? He can't remember. He'd been... distracted.

His phone pings with a text as he sets his messenger bag on the dining room table and undoes his cuff buttons, rolling them up. Too damn hot for this, damn dress code rules... He peers down at the message, and notes it's from an unknown number. His students know to text him if they have an emergency, so he opens it straight away.

Hi, Professor Garcia. I know that it's after office hours, but the fact is...I missed office hours altogether. Would it be an inconvenience to call you and explain? Otherwise I'm not sure how to get my final paper to you. Thanks, Daphne Antonelli (Mythology and Myth-Making)

Santiago lifts an eyebrow. He recognizes the name. Oh yes, he recognizes it. In fact, he's called it to mind more often than is probably appropriate, along with the image of a very beautiful graduate student with a focused stare and drop-dead gorgeous eyes. She was an attentive student, responsive, ready to answer questions but never one to hog the spotlight, making insightful, empathetic, and razor-sharp questions. It was unlike her to miss anything, never mind not visit office hours. They'd spent many such visits over the semester. Short. Professional. Of course.

So why does his heart rate increase, his teeth sink into his bottom lip as he thoughtfully taps the phone screen, spelling out a careful, professional text?

Hi Daphne. As this is your final paper, I would really like to have it ASAP as I am required to submit grades on Monday. Why don't you swing by my home to drop it off?

Feel free to call, he types, then deletes before sending. He wanted to hear her voice. He did need that paper. No reason why he couldn't do both in person. No reason at all.

He had had his graduate students over for a spring dinner after midterms so they know how and where to find him. The bonfire that night had lasted for ages, as tipsy grad students who were feeling feisty with a full meal in their bellies debated the cultural implications of different myth origins and the similarities of some creation myths that they had just been discussing in class. Daphne had been amongst the students that night, animatedly defending her points with unmatched ferocity that was impossible to ignore.

The text that comes through a few moments later takes a while for her to decide on, judging from the continuously undulating bubbles indicating how long she was typing compared to the brevity of the eventual message.

Thank you for understanding. I'll be over shortly so the rest of your night isn't interrupted.

Satisfaction. He tosses the phone down and leans over the table with a slow sigh, taking a look around the room. The same old familiar wall-to-wall bookshelves line the tidy bungalow. The same pendant lamps up, tacky, that he'd meant to change when he bought this place... four years ago. His degrees might be hung in his office upstairs, his clothes are here, he shaves here, but who does he have here, really? Nobody. Warm sheets for a night and then no one. Nothing. There was no reason to bother, really—

And then Daphne. Daphne with her slowly blossoming smile that melted from shy to beaming when he said hello to her on campus. Daphne with her neat notes in the margins, Daphne with the legs that had so often been tucked primly next to his as they leaned over a book or paper together, never touching but so close, close enough so that he could smell her perfume: cinnamon, orchid, incense.

"Fuck," he mutters to the table. There's no way of hiding from himself, not really. He pushes off the wood and stalks to the kitchen for a beer. He cracks it open efficiently and takes a long swallow, Adam's apple bobbing. He wants her. That much is clear. How could he not? She was intelligent, fierce, gorgeous. He could fool himself all he wanted, her coming here was a bad idea. It's been a long semester, keeping her close but not too close.

But, he realizes with a jolt, she's about to graduate. This is her final, his course is over. He is... well, technically by Monday, no longer her professor.

"Fuck," he mutters again, this time to a magnet of a catfish, his only catch from a weekend out fishing with the guys.

It's twenty minutes later precisely when his doorbell rings. There was no sound of a car outside on the street or dramatic slam of a door, but when he opens the door there is a bicycle leaning against his front gate and a frazzled looking student on his front step.

"Hi, Professor." Daphne stands on his step with a mix of anxiety and embarrassment on her face and she digs into her bag right away to pull out a manila folder with his class name and number written on it alongside her name. "I'm so sorry about this. I know it's technically late and that you'll have to dock points for that. It's completely my fault."

"Hey, hey, easy." He lifts a palm and lowers it soothingly, taking the manila folder gently. "There's no need to be sorry, accidents happen." Then, as he knew he would, he asked, "Would you like to come in? It's the end of semester, though. Maybe you have a party you'd rather get to?" He smiles fondly, bumping his shoulder against the doorframe and folding his arms to show off his tanned forearms, shirt sleeves straining slightly.

Yeah, he's still got moves. And he wants to show them off. To Daphne. Who is no longer his student. Who's staring up at him with the anguish slowly sliding from her face. He wants to remove it, stroke her stress away with his thumb, ease it out of her slowly—

Fuck, he's screwed.

"I'm not really – I mean, I haven't –" She doesn't get invited to parties, is what she's trying to say. Not that she doesn't enjoy parties, because she does. She absolutely does. The night they spent here at his house just sitting around the fire talking and sharing a meal was one of her favorite graduate school memories. But she isn't great at socializing with the other students in her program, she's found. There is something a little odd about Daphne, and it has reverberated through her life to keep her just a little on the outside of normal.

Maybe that's why she nods, accepting the invitation with swallowed thanks, and steps inside her professor's house. Her professor who has more than a decade on her in terms of age but has never held his years of experience or knowledge over her head. If they were colleagues, she might have even considered him a friend. As it is, being his student, she's stuck in a sort of limbo with a useless crush and fond memories. "I've had kind of a crazy day," she admits sheepishly. "Even if I had been invited to any of the parties on campus, I don't think I would be going."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Daph," he says, with real sympathy. "Is everything all right? I just opened a beer, would you like anything?"

"A pipe burst at my place and my landlord is claiming I'm liable, then my computer crashed in the middle of doing one last edit on your term paper and the tech office gave me grief, it's just...it's been a long day." She barely even nodded in agreement that a drink would be a huge relief, but he is immediately retreating to his refrigerator to grab her a beer. "Oh, and my summer plans fell through today." Her shoulders sag, the stress of the day dragging her down and determined to keep her there. "I'm just lucky I got up to take a shower first thing this morning or else the day would've been even worse."

"Oh, Daph, that's a rotten one," he says, placing the opened beer on the coffee table and settling his hands on her shoulders. "What happened to your summer? Surely you're going off to some incredible internship, you're more than qualified." And she is. He'd have recommended her to any program she wanted, and had, in fact, written her a letter of recommendation earlier in the year. "You know I'm not going to dock points, right?" he asks more quietly. "None of today was your fault, sweetheart."

Sweetheart. That shouldn't burrow into her chest and bloom into warmth like it does, and Daphne's eyes drop to the floor immediately to carefully focus on the toes of her boots instead of looking him in the face. That's your professor. Don't be creepy. "I had that internship lined up in London with the publishing company but they pulled the rug out from under me." She shrugs, feeling more vulnerable in the moment than she wants to admit. "Apparently the CFO's kid decided all of a sudden that he wants to be an author, so they rescinded my offer. He's going to get it instead."

His chest pangs. He hates that there is nothing he can do to fix this for her -- because she's right. That's the cherry on top of an extremely long day, and all he can do then is what feels most natural, which is to lift her chin up with the crook of his finger, his voice soft, gentle. "Hey."

When she meets his gaze, he watches them flicker slightly, scanning his face as he drinks in hers. Her eyes are so pretty. Like fresh honey dripped from a spoon.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he says again, and means it. "You deserve that spot, but you'll find something better, okay? Hey, look at me." She had turned away slightly, embarrassed or perhaps made shy by his praise, but her eyes fix on him again, golden and fringed with thick lashes. "I promise, you will. There's lots of ways into this world, and you're too talented not to break in. Okay? You want to sit down, tell me about it?" His fingers clasp around her delicate elbow, ready to guide her to the couch.

"There's not a lot more to tell, to be honest." Two people with two beers steer almost mechanically toward the couch, and Daphne finds herself being seated on his plush leather sectional just before he sits down beside her. This spring has been chilly and he still has a throw blanket out, which he pulls close to them as if to have it at the ready. "No summer in London means I'm going to have to either go back home and figure out my next step there, or find a new place here and do the same. Because I'm sure as hell not staying in the place I'm in now. As if the landlord weren't bad enough, now the plumbing is going."

"Huh." He trails his arm over the back of the sofa, sipping his beer thoughtfully. "What kinda guy is this-" Asshole, he wants to say, but quells it, "Fellow? Any chance he'll back off? Perhaps once he... calms down, he can be reasoned with." He's approaching the boundary of reason himself. He can see it, taste it, the drip of something sweet down his throat. "Beautiful woman like you? You could convince a man of anything."

The pffft sound that comes out of her mouth goes with a wave of her hand, but she does accept a sip of the beer that he's brought her with a grateful sigh. "The apartment is a piece of shit anyway, if I'm honest. I hate it there. It's just that it's affordable." There's a moment's pause where Daphne's eyes widen in panic and she deflates again with a groan. "I already put in my notice at my job, oh my god."

"Hey, hey, Daphne." He puts his beer down and reaches for her, wrapping one arm around her waist, cupping her flushed cheek with the other hand. "C'mon, it's going to be okay, I promise, but for right now, I need you to relax, okay? Can you do that for me, bebita?" They're so close now, almost nose to nose. He's lost in her eyes again, but he can feel the burning heat of her little cheek in his palm.

She had been so sure she was going to start crying instantly with that realization, but two searing hot hands on her skin steady her. His touch is grounding, pulling her away from the edge of panic and drawing her into his aura so effortlessly that she didn't even realize how close he was until she felt his breath on her skin. "O—okay—" He can't know that the thing keeping her from having a complete panic attack on his couch right now is the fact that all the blood in her body has rushed to her aching clit, but damned if it isn't working. Daphne nods vaguely, trying to keep her head from swimming, but all she feels is his hands on her and the way his coffee brown eyes have turned to oceans in front of her. "Okay," she repeats softly.

"Okay?" Santiago nods, his breath coming a little fast. "I'll help you. I'll help you relax, sweetheart. You tell me to stop any time, okay?" He leans closer so slowly, their breaths mingling. He can almost count her eyelashes. Her nose is sweet and soft as it brushes his, but it's nothing compared to her plush lips. They seal against his and he feels the world fall out from under him. Something deep and ravenous unlocks and spills out all over his inside. He barely chokes down a groan.

There is no doubt that this is the most surreal moment of Daphne's life, and it isn't as though she hasn't been in some weird situations before. It's a miracle that she managed to get her beer bottle onto the nearby coffee table without spilling or knocking anything over, but she needs her hands for this. For a year and a half she's been working on a master's degree and avoiding too much contact with the one professor who makes her mind fog up and her daydreams wander, until finally she had landed in his classroom.

And now on his couch.

Kissing him.

If it were anything besides the most surreal moment of her life, she might have jumped backward or at the very least, pulled away. But Daphne has imagined kissing Santiago Garcia far too many times to do anything but sigh in response and open up for him like a summer rose.

"It's okay," he repeats soothingly between kisses: to himself, to her, to the waiting tension in the room. "I've got you, cariño. I've got you now, there you go, so sweet for me. So pretty. Beautiful, smart girl." He deepens the kiss, tasting her lips slowly, reverently, one hand sliding slowly down her soft sweater to rest on her waist and squeeze gently. He brushes his thumb over the soft material and then flicks it open, wanting closeness, to drag his palm up her thin blouse, wide and slow across her back.

The sound that bubbles out of her is a plaintive moan, unsure but wanting, and one of her hands grasps for steadiness on his arm even as the other instinctively sinks into his curls to keep him close. The battle is want versus wisdom, and it takes longer than she's proud of for Daphne to drag her lips from his and pant for a breath that still has no prayer of clearing her head.

"But." The fog in her mind has settled thick and heavy like the arousal in her core, and even as she's trying to straighten herself out she's still clinging to him with digging fingers and sharp nails. "You'll get fired," she manages to breathe out a few seconds later. Her only real protest being that she doesn't want him to get in trouble over a whim – which is surely all this is to him.

"Baby, no, no," he shakes his head, almost laughing with relief that that is her only concern. "No, you're graduating. I'm not your teacher any more. You handed in your paper. We can finally do what I – what I've been—" Shit. This is going to sound so bad. "What I've been thinking about since I met you," he admits.

Santi leans his forehead against hers, sighing. "I'm sorry. It's so inappropriate, but it's true. I've been waiting so long to kiss you, baby girl. Let me kiss you." He brushes his fingers over her knee, lifting her skirt just a little. "Let me make you feel so good, my little nymph. Do you even know how long you've been haunting me?" His mouth brushes her again, gently, over the corner of her mouth, the edge of her jaw, the flutter of her pulse, which smells delicious, deep and floral, her scent.

His cock aches against his zipper.

"Fuck." This time Daphne groans, sinking further into the couch, and feels herself giggle softly in disbelief more than she's actually aware of making the sound herself. "You've been haunted?" She challenges, eyes burning with courage now that she's heard his confession. Heard him beg. Did he really just beg for her? "Do you know how long I put off taking your class because I didn't know if I could even concentrate around you?"

Using the opportunity of her gently reclining body, Santiago leans in for the catch. "I never could," he murmurs into the hollow of her throat, his hands sweeping her skirt up, revealing her pretty legs, and god her thighs, so plush and luscious in his hands. He takes a moment to stroke there, brush the hem of her panties with his thumbs. "Never. You came in with Eros and made me Apollo." One thumb slips gently under the gusset of her panties. "Are you running, little nymph, hm?"

"Fuck—I—no, I—I don't even think my legs work now," she huffs, all at once tense as a bowstring with desire and measurably more relaxed as the reality of the man she's wanted forever finally touching her exactly where she wants him.

Well, not exactly. But it's not going to take long to get there at the rate they're going.

"What should I..." Daphne's head falls back on the sofa cushion as his thumb strokes her slit and she moans. "Santiago is a lot of syllables to moan."

"Santi. You can call me Santi from now on," he murmurs, removing his thumb from her panties only to twist the thin white cotton things, Jesus, so fucking wet, around his fingers and slide them down, down. He tosses them to the side and shucks off her high heeled boots while he's there, his eyes locked on where she glistens for him, needs him. "But you can call out any god you want to, bonita." He flicks his gaze to hers and smirks. "Show me how much you were paying attention, yeah?"

If she can even remember a single name from his class at this point she'll be shocked, and the cool air of his house on her overheated cunt is enough to have her squirming instinctively underneath him. Her brain has pretty much given up the ghost already, overstimulated in the very best way possible far before the rest of her body feels the same. Although she has a feeling that it will get there. "Santi..." Trying it out, there is a sweetness on her tongue and heaviness in her core that really is just a whine waiting to break free. Daphne's hands have found their way to his shirt front, fumbling to free the buttons even while she's nearly shaking with desire. "If you get to touch me, I want to touch you, too."

His lips find hers again, almost impatient to taste her again. "You can touch me, I want you to," he mutters against her lips, lifting her blouse hem from her skirt as she takes care of his buttons. Santiago doesn't pause, doesn't make it easy for her or for himself, drowning himself in the touch of her, the sweet little noises emanating from her throat, the ones taking a running leap on the way to begging for everything he's ready to give. He lifts her shirt over her head and begins tugging down her skirt an inch at a time, his fingers dragging slowly over her hips, her now bare legs.

Nothing is exactly torn away, not specifically, but the pile of clothing that collects beside his living room sofa accumulates quickly and haphazardly — shirts and sweaters and everything else discarded blindly as they drown in kissing each other and swallowing those moans that make their way to the surface over and over again. With that building freedom Daphne finds a buried courage — not that she is a timid lover by any means, but there is an eagerness below the surface here that she hasn’t felt in so long. When the only thing left between them is the flimsy pair of boxers that do nothing to disguise how achingly hard he is, Daph bites down on his bottom lip to pull a groan out of him and soothes it away by sucking on the same spot as her fingers slip under the waistband of his last remaining piece of clothing.

"Fuck," he hisses, hips jumping forward so that the weeping tip of his cock brushes against her hand and he groans. He sits up straighter, caught in a web, aching to touch her – at least take his boxers off, fuck – but loathe to move away from her curious little hand. He settles for sitting up on his knees, staring at the place she's touching him, watching her explore him as though in a trance.

Taking advantage of the momentary shift, Daphne sits up along with him and nudges Santi backward so that he is on his back now instead of her. His curls are mussed and his eyes are so black with lust that he looks positively debauched before she’s even had a chance to touch him very much. Once he’s on his back, though, Daphne hooks her thumbs in his boxers and peels them away, groaning at the sight of him. Harder than diamonds and leaking precum like an eager teenager, a sly smirk rides across her face knowing she did that to him. “I want to suck your cock,” she admits, gaze flickering between his length and his blackened eyes. “You have no idea how many hours I’ve spent imagining sucking your cock under that desk in your office.”

Santiago closes his eyes a moment. Is he fucking dreaming? Or is his most fucked fantasy coming true before his eyes?

"Probably almost as many as what I've spent imagining what that wet little pussy tastes like." His voice is a low rasp, but he pulls himself together enough to halt her hand on his throbbing dick. His fingers squeeze around hers, gliding over the rigid shaft slowly, with control. His breath fans over her forehead. "You want this, baby? Hm? Gonna have to give me something in return. Come here," he urges, a low purr, her very own siren. "Come here and give me a little taste, cariño."

“Even Kama had to worship a lover in order to find his release,” Daph breathes, having spent an entire semester doodling images of the Hindu love god’s sugarcane bow and bird companions in her notes while thinking of all the various ways her professor could be worshipped.

"Kama was burnt alive by Shiva, sweetheart, and I don't plan on doing any different to you. Come here, that's it." Santi helps Daphne turn in his lap, both of them facing the wall. He guides her hips over his face as he lies back on the couch. Thank fuck it was big enough, for this and more, and then her perfect pussy is hovering over his face, tantalizing him. At heart? Santiago likes torturing himself, loves the thrill of giving into pleasure. Perhaps that too, is why he waited so long to take this girl into his bed. Perhaps that's why he's slow and sure as he spreads her lips, flattens his tongue, and tastes her indulgently, from clit to hole.

Daphne's momentary flash of composure is gone again as soon as he tastes her. Her legs shake on either side of his head, thighs pressed to his ears so her moans are muffled but it isn't on purpose. It's just been so long since she had a man between her legs who knew what the fuck he was doing that just having her clit noticed is a vast improvement. Daphne's body sags momentarily before she is shifting all her weight to one hand and wrapping the other around the base of his cock to stroke his base with the pressure that he showed her – the pressure he likes – while she takes as much of him as she can into her mouth.

When he moans it's with a growl into her pussy she can feel vibrate all the way up through her lungs.

She's not fucking sitting, and he knows it's because she's still, however minutely now that her moans are ringing sweet and clear across his living room, in her head instead of fully in her perfect body the way he wants. Licking up her slick almost lazily, he drags his nails lightly up the outsides of her thighs before firmly catching her hips in hand and pressing her into his waiting mouth, his evening stubble scraping across her folds. Only then does he give her a real reason to moan, encouraging her to grind while his laps at her clit with his tongue, filling his hands with all the gorgeous skin he can reach.

"Sit," he grunts, "Fuck, baby, I wanna to go to the field of fucking reeds with this pussy on my face, come on, you can do it, give it to me."

Come on, carińo, I know you can come for me, such a good fucking girl, he thinks, his brain a hazy lightning storm at the sensation of her hot throat squeezing around him as she swallows. Fuck, he could let her do this all night, but he's hungry for her pleasure and he's so close, he can taste it. Santiago lifts her hips with a final loud suck and trails a finger around her slit, teasing, almost pressing, but only just, his thumb running circles around her clit. With a deep breath he lifts his mouth, slips his tongue and a single finger inside, fucking into her with slow, measured movements.

The overwhelming pleasure of having more than just the tip of his tongue inside her pussy has Daphne moaning so earnestly that she pulls off of him cock with a lurid pop. "Dammit—I—fuck, I'm going to cum—Santi, baby, oh my f—" The shaking of her legs and the coil in her core twist down on each other so her thighs tighten and he breathes into her like he's going to devour her whole as she falls apart at the seams.

Oh yes. He really likes hearing her moaning that, but not more than the way she gives in as her orgasm rocks through her, grinding her hips down, into his waiting, eager mouth, helping her ride him through it until the aftershocks ease. His voice is barely a scrape when he lifts her up, his aching cock swinging between his legs as he presses forward, eager for her mouth. "Did so good, baby, such a good girl for me. I need to fuck you. Need to fuck you, baby. How do you want it?"

"Any way." Daphne gasps, trying to wrap her head around any kind of how that's more artful than just sinking down on him right here and now. When she does wrap her head around it, though, she groans in a less ethereal tone. "Let me grab a condom." Like any sensible, sexually active college girl, she carries one in her regular purse. Emergency cock wrap, if you will. She just never thought she'd actually need it.

"Wait, I got it." He scoots up a moment, digging into the small table beside the couch. From the drawer Santi draws out the foil pouch and rips it open, quickly rolling it on before turning his attention back on Daphne, who's watching him with drowned eyes, eyes deep and longing and still so lovely.

"Lie back, sweetheart. You ready for me?" He slowly glides the head over her silky wet folds, smearing her slick across his tip.

Deciding she absolutely does not need to know how many other girls have been fucked on this couch -- possibly at the end of their own courses -- Daph pushed herself up on her elbows to kiss him fiercely. Tonight is not to be wasted. Tonight is to be a fantastic memory. "I'm ready." Her nails drag down the base of his scalp, having caught a near purr from him earlier when she did the same. "I want you to fuck me, Santi."

Almost before his name is out of her mouth, he's pushing inside her with a low rumble, his head falling back slightly into her hands. Her nails scrape sensation over his scalp and down his spine, and her cunt is licking flames over him, so warm and perfect he almost comes right fucking there, but halts, breathing damp against her lips, his teeth nipping her lip possessively.

They hold like that, frozen together in the heat of the moment as he regains his composure and she adjusts to the stretch and fill and thickness of his cock inside her. The only movement, in this long moment of coming together, is the languid slide and tangle of their tongues together as they drown in the intimacy of feverish kisses.

Gradually, Santi comes down enough to get restless, eager again. He nips and bites down over her jaw and descends on her throat, sucking a mark low on her collarbone as his hands pay some long overdue attention to her pretty, heaving tits. Mine.

When the mark on her neck is soothed with his tongue, he sits up slowly, his eyes a glittering black, his lips parted. He looks like he's about to devour her. He takes one of her calves in his hand, eyes never leaving hers, tipping her knee up towards her head and then out, spread wide for him. He grips her ankle in a warm hand. Then, with a grunt, he's pulling back and pitching forward hard enough for their skin to clap obscenely, fast enough to make them both soon begin to tremble.

The position that he's in has him almost entirely out of her reach, just close even to graze her nails over his chest as he thrusts into her at a pace frantic enough to make them both pant and heave. Her back arches off the couch with a keen and her hands grapple with the couch cushions for purchase to hold on tight as Santi fucks her so deeply and insistently that she can practically feel him all the way up in her throat.

"Gripping me so fuckin' tight, baby, Jesus," he says through his teeth, his jaw tight, streaks of pleasure raking down his chest with her sharp, clinging nails. Keeping his relentless pace, he bends forward, pushing her thigh up, testing her limit. When he's low enough he seizes her mouth with his, grinding deep.

"One more for me, pretty girl, one more," he whispers huskily, his other hand skimming down her body to rub at her clit.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, so good baby, oh my fucking god—" Something in Daphne's mind short circuits, and the rambling begins in earnest the higher and higher she climbs toward a second orgasm. Tripping over her own tongue and throwing her hands up over her head as he slams into her so hard that either they are moving up the length of the sofa or the entire sofa is moving, Daph is completely lost in her pleasure. That volcano of pleasure building in her core is damn near ready to explode and the only thing she wants more than to erupt is to take him with her.

The second her expression breaks and she cries out for him, he's gone. He thinks he's done even before she clamps down on his cock like a goddamned vice, ripping his orgasm from him in a half dozen hard but increasingly languid strokes.

His upper body grows heavy, and with a groan he grinds in deeply just once more – never mind why – and leans his forehead on her soft breast, pulling out of her with a sigh. His entire body is basking, floating. If she puts her hands in his hair again he might even fall asleep.

There's a moment of quiet as he ties off and disposes of the condom, and for a split-second Santi disappears around a corner but he comes back with a warm, damp kitchen cloth to clean them both up with before curling back around her on the couch. "Goddamn," she huffs, giggling softly to herself as his arms come around her.

"Tell me about it," he says sleepily, flipping the throw blanket over the two of them as they settle, kiss, explore lazily what before had been greedily consumed. "Still not sure I'm not dreaming," he says, only half-joking, tracing her lips with a smile. "Did I really get so lucky?"

"I'm not sure how you're the starstruck one out of the two of us," Daphne teases, even though it's through a thin veil of honesty.

"Bonita, I've been increasingly starstruck all semester," he chuckles. "You have so much to look forward to. Shit, you're definitely going farther places than I am. I'm just happy to be here," he presses a kiss to her left tit, "To enjoy-" to her right nipple- "The satisfaction of being right." He kisses her forehead and studies her, his lids heavy. "Do you need anything before you fall asleep, baby girl? You wanna sleep here or in bed? I can't let you bike home this late, querida, so don't even try. Besides, you can shower here, my plumbing is fine." He smirks here, as if anticipating the swat he's earned himself.

"It's not that late." Daphne wrinkles her nose at herself. The protest was just good manners. She doesn't actually want to leave. She wants to wrap up in him and breathe in this comfort for as long as humanly possible. When he levels her with a disapproving look, Daph just ends up grinning. "Let's go to bed," she suggests, catching his lips as he drags them along her jaw. "And when I wake you up in the morning with my lips wrapped around your cock again, you'll be glad your back isn't sore."

The laugh bursts out of his chest with delight, easy and real. "All right, baby, all right, and what makes you think I won't beat you to it?" Santi pulls her to her feet, wrapping the soft blanket securely around her shoulders before guiding her upstairs with a hand at the small of her back.

No matter which one of them beats the other two it, they both know they aren't done. Whether it's a weekend, a week, a month, or even more. This night is just the beginning.

______

Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle @becsworld @julesonrecord @its-nebuleuse @itsrubberbisquit @mikeyswifie @guelyury @lizzie-cakes @for-a-longlongtime @vabeachazn @purplerain04 @weho2kcmo @madnessofadaydreamer

My Masterlist!

#Oscar Isaac #Oscar Isaac character fanfiction #Oscar Isaac fanfic #Santiago Garcia #Santiago 'Pope' Garcia #Santiago Garcia x OC #Santiago Garcia x female!OC #Triple Frontier #college professor au #professor!Santiago Garcia #pwp #really there is barely any plot here #and we're not sorry

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makeitmingi · 9 months

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Cause Baby You’re My Muse [Chapter 5]

Genre: Romance, Idol!AU, Music, Slight angst

Pairing: Mingi x Reader (y/n)

Characters: Producer!Reader, IdolLyricist!Mingi, IdolProducer!Hongjoong, Idol!Seonghwa, Idol!Yunho, Idol!Wooyoung, Idol!San, Idol!Yeosang, Idol!Jongho, cameo(s) by other celebrities

Summary: You always preferred producing underground, having an unknown face and governed by your own rules. But when you start freelancing for idol groups, you say goodbye to your lone wolf lifestyle as you learn to work with idol producers and lyricists.

Word count: 3.3K

[A/N: I know the Ateez members don’t stay in one dorm anymore but for the sake of this story, let’s assume that they do. Their old arrangement of Matz in one room, Mingi in his own room, San & Yunho in one room and the other 3 in one. ]

After you were finished, you left with Mingi and Hongjoong for movie night at their dorm. But of course, the others demanded that you make a quick pit stop to get snacks before going to theirs.

“We’re here.” The van stopped in the basement carpark of the apartment complex and you all climbed out. Hongjoong held his hand out to you to help you get down. Mingi didn’t say a word, taking your laptop bag for you so you wouldn’t have to carry it.

“Thank you.” You smiled at him. You rode the lift with them to the house. Mingi couldn’t even finish putting in the passcode when the door opened.

“Indigo!” Wooyoung yelled excitedly, throwing himself at you to hug you tightly. You caught him, surprised by the sudden attack.

“Shh, Wooyoung! You’re going to disturb the neighbours. Let’s go in.” Hongjoong scolded. Wooyoung let go of you but held your hand to lead you into the dorm.

“Glad you could make it.” San smiled.

“Thank you for inviting me.” You bowed your head. Wooyoung pulled you further into the dorm.

“Are you okay? Didn’t get chased by paparazzi?” Wooyoung asked, worry suddenly written all over his face. You knew he was referring to the article with Dean. You were a little surprised that they all knew about it.

“Oh, that. Don’t worry, I’m fine. I just went out for some drinks and people were probably excited that Hyuk had emerged again. No one has recognised me so far. Except those who know what I kind of look like, like you guys. Producer Indigo is still a ghost, I’ve not been photographed anywhere else.” You assured him. He let out a sigh of relief.

“Thank goodness. I thought someone would have recognised you or started some fake news about you.” Wooyoung smiled.

“Thank you for your concern.” You gave him an eye smile.

“Of course, we were all worried for your safety, even asked Eden hyung about it. But he said you’ve been at the studio the whole day with no disturbance.” Yeosang added as he walked past.

“I’m sorry if I’ve inconvenienced any of you with this. I’ll be more careful in the future.” You turned to whoever was around and bowed.

“Inconvenienced? What are you talking about? Never.” Yunho scoffed.

“Let me go wash up first since I’ve been at the studio to whole day.” You told them, a little flustered by their affection. Wooyoung led you to one of the bathrooms in the dorm.

You locked the door and removed your mask to wash your face. Since you were not outdoors, you removed your beanie to put your hair into a loose bun, not wanting your hair to be in the way. Before exiting, you put your mask back on.

“Wow, you really look like Hongjoong hyung.” Jongho stated.

“What are you talking about? Indigo is pretty, don’t keep comparing her to me. It’s insulting to her.” Hongjoong snorted.

“But hyung, you’re good looking!” Wooyoung chased after the captain to the kitchen. You chuckled and walked to the living room area. Yunho and Seonghwa parted to make space for you on the couch. Seonghwa asked you about the progress of the producing today and you gladly shared with him how it was in the studio with Hongjoong and Mingi.

“I’m excited to work with all of you in the studio when the time comes.” You said to the two.

“We’re... not the quietest group, if you haven’t noticed. It will not be different even while recording. The chaos is just as bad. That’s why the captain tries to split us up into smaller groups.” Yunho warned.

“Like that ever works. He puts Wooyoung, Mingi and Jongho together. Might as well send the whole group.” Seonghwa snorted.

“I’m guessing those are the troublemakers?” You asked with amusement.

“Even ATINY knows. Me, Yeosang and San are the good kids.” Yunho smiled proudly while nodding his head. Seonghwa rolled his eyes, everyone in Ateez had their own kind of chaos.

“Is there anything I can help with?” You stood up when you saw those in the kitchen preparing the snacks and drinks.

“Nonsense, you’re our guest. Besides, we can handle it. Now go relax in the living room.” Wooyoung placed his hands on your shoulders, turning you around and gently pushing you out of the kitchen. You turned back to look at the kitchen with uncertainty.

“They say they’re handling it but I swear I smell something burning.” You scratched your head. Seonghwa burst out laughing, patting your shoulder before going to check on those in the kitchen.

“You can help us pick a movie.” San and Yeosang said from their spots on the ground. They reminded you of kids, it was quite adorable.

“Sure.” You nodded and headed over, sitting with them.

“We would give you a tour of the dorm but the rooms are too messy.” Yeosang said, a little too honestly, making Yunho hit the back of his head. San also slapped his arm.

“Why would you tell her that?” He hissed.

“I don’t know about you guys but my room isn’t messy.” Hongjoong shrugged, emerging from the kitchen, having been kicked out by Seonghwa.

“Because you room with Seonghwa hyung. He would never let your room get messy.” Jongho said. Soon, Mingi, Wooyoung and Seonghwa came out with trays of snacks and drinks.

“Can I have an iced tea, please?” You requested, sitting up on the couch. Mingi reached out to take the bottle, pouring it into the glass with ice cubes. What you didn’t expect was for him to take out a straw and put it into the glass, making it easier for you with drink with your mask on. Then he carefully handed it over to you.

“Oh, thank you...” You said, touched by his actions, receiving the glass with two hand and a bow of your head.

“You’re welcome.” He smiled and turned back to the snacks. Instead of sitting on the couch, Mingi sat himself on the ground, in front of you.

“Am I blocking?” He turned back. You shook your head with a thumbs up.

“Can I sit with you?” Wooyoung asked. You nodded, patting the space. He grinned and sat down, draping a blanket over you and himself. The movie that was picked was a Studio Ghibli movie.

“Everyone comfortable?” Hongjoong asked.

“Yes!” Everyone replied. Hongjoong went to turn down the lights while San started the movie.

Throughout the movie, you would sneak snacks under your mask. Wooyoung would sometimes help you lift the blanket to cover the lower part of your face for you to eat, while his eyes were trained on the television screen. It was so comforting you hadn’t realised you fell asleep.

“That was a good movie.” Seonghwa stretched his arms as the credits rolled. Mingi sat up and looked behind to see you and Wooyoung fast asleep against each other. He reached out to adjust your mask first.

“She’s asleep.” Mingi said to the others.

“Jongho ah, go to bed. Go.” Yeosang gently woke his roommate. The youngest groaned, frowning slightly at being disturbed.

“Come on.” Yeosang pulled Jongho up by his arms and moved him to the room, bidding everyone goodnight at the same time. Seonghwa moved the sleeping Hongjoong to their shared room as well.

“Should we leave them? Rather than move them and risk them waking up.” Yunho asked.

“It’s okay if Wooyoung wakes up, not her. I’ll let her sleep in my room. There’s more privacy.” Mingi offered since he was the only one that had his own room.

“I’ll carry her.” San said. The other two nodded, trusting their member’s strength more than their own. You must have been in deep sleep because you didn’t even flinch as San slipped his arms under you.

“Careful.” Yunho cautioned. Mingi opened his room door and San gently placed you down on the bed.

“Let’s go.” San ushered everyone out. He draped the blanket over your body and they turned off the lights before closing the door. After that, Yunho retreated to the room while San went to wake his best friend to move him back to his room as well. Wooyoung whined, grumbling as San lifted him up and guided him to his room.

“You can sleep in my bed, Mingi. I can bunk with Wooyoung or Jongho.” San told the taller male, who sat on the couch.

“It’s okay. Sleep in your own bed. I’ll stay up for a bit more and sleep here.” Mingi patted the couch. San stopped, uncertainty written all over his face but Mingi just waved him off.

“Go on, I’m fine. Goodnight~” Mingi wished. San nodded and bowed before shuffling to his room.

You jolted awake, looking around at your unfamiliar surroundings. Your hands went to your face and realised that your mask had fallen off in your sleep. While reaching for it, you saw something on the nightstand beside you.

‘Here’s a new, clean mask.’

You saw the note beside the new mask but no one signed off. Putting the note in your pocket, you wore the new mask. The room had some merch with ‘Song Mingi’ over it so you guessed that you were in his room. But the tall male was nowhere in sight. Opening the door, you poked your head out.

“Ateez?” You whispered but the dorm was pin drop silent. You quietly tip toed out to see Mingi sleeping soundly on the couch, the blanket you shared with Wooyoung last night covering his body.

‘Thank you for letting me use your room and sleep in the living room, as well as the new mask. I owe you one! - Indigo’

After placing your note on the back of Mingi’s phone, which was beside his head, you carefully wore your shoes and left the dorm to go home.

“What time is it?” You checked your phone as you entered your house.

‘Thanks again for the movie night, Ateez. It was really enjoyable after a long day of work. I’m sorry I fell asleep, I promise to try to stay awake until the end the next time! - Indigo’

‘Next time?! Does that mean you would come again? - Wooyoung’

‘If you’d have me over. - Indigo’

‘Of course! And don’t apologise for falling alseep, we know how hard you’ve been working in the studio. - Seonghwa’

‘Plus your lack of a sleep schedule. - Jongho’

With a chuckle, you put your phone aside. You removed your clothes and jumped into the shower since you didn’t get to shower after work. Your intention was to come home after the movie and shower but you feel asleep at Ateez’s dorm. While your hair was drying, you made some breakfast food for yourself, which was french toast.

“Thank goodness there are off days.” You fell face first onto your bed. Tucked under the blankets, you scrolled on your phone, glad to finally have some time to relax and not need to think about work.

Mingi was the last one to wake up. He sat up, momentarily forgetting that he was sleeping in the living room.

“Oh, Mangi, you’re awake.” Wooyoung said, cup of coffee in his hand as he came out of the kitchen.

“Indigo still sleeping?” Mingi asked, stretching his long limbs.

“Nah, she went home while we were all still asleep. She texted that she was home when we just woke up.” Wooyoung explained before going back to his room. Mingi blinked and picked up his phone, seeing your note.

“Owe me one?” He laughed. Putting the blanket aside, he went back to his room to see the bed perfectly made. Even he doesn’t make his own bed so neatly when he sleeps there.

“Mingi, want breakfast? The others want eggs and sausages.” Seonghwa poked his head into the room.

“Sure, hyung... Just save me a plate. I think I’m gonna get a bit more sleep.” Mingi replied to the oldest’s question. Seonghwa nodded and closed the door. Mingi yawned and dove under his covers to get comfortable, hoping to get few more hours of sleep. Luckily there was no schedules today.

“Hmm~” As he scrolled on his phone, he found himself humming the tune that you and Hongjoong were producing yesterday. Chewing on his bottom lip, he opened his notes app and began typing away.

“Captain, breakfast.” Seonghwa called. Hongjoong sat up, ruffling his hair as he stared into space blankly for a few seconds. He came down from his bed and went to wash up.

“Indigo?”

“She went back way earlier, hyung. We were all still asleep when she left.” Yeosang said as he set the table. Hongjoong nodded his head.

“I’m glad she got home safe. I hope she enjoyed her time here yesterday.” He asked as he sat down.

“Yeah. I think she did, even if she fell asleep. She mentioned a ‘next time’ so that’s a good sign right?” Wooyoung asked, taking his seat beside San. Hongjoong nodded in reply.

When you woke up, it was slightly after noon. Thankfully you didn’t spend your day off sleeping. You went to the bathroom to wash up and change your clothes. You grabbed your bag, adjusting the cap over your head and the mask over your face. Checking the time once again, you left your house and made your way to the train station.

“One ticket for the 2:30 train, please.” You went to the counter. The lady nodded and handed you the ticket as you slipped the money under the glass.

‘You’re welcome, I just hope my bed was comfortable enough. No need to owe me. - Mingi’

‘Also, no one saw your face. I made sure to adjust it. - Mingi’

‘Come on, let me at least buy you coffee next time or a meal. And thank you for doing that. I removed my mask in my sleep at some point and wasn’t sure if anyone saw. - Indigo’

‘I want to assure you that the others and I have no intention of ‘un-masking’ you or taking advantage of you to remove your mask. - Mingi’

‘I know, I trust you guys. - Indigo’

With a soft sigh, you put your phone down and leaned your head against the train seat to look out the window. The train ride wasn’t too far away, it was only a hour’s journey. You took your laptop out to do some work.

“Hello?” You picked up your buzzing phone.

“Indigo! I heard you left early this morning.” You heard the captain’s voice.

“Oh, Hongjoong. Yes, when I woke up, everyone was still asleep. I didn’t want to disturb anyone so I let myself out.” You replied.

“Ah... Don’t worry about that. We can sleep like logs. I hope you enjoyed the movie night with us yesterday, as chaotic as the boys are.” He chuckled, much to the shouts of protest of people in the background. You couldn’t help but laugh, Hongjoong probably had you on speaker.

“After knowing you guys for two weeks and seeing how you are, I think it would be weird to see you guys not chaotic and energetic. It is practically a norm now.” You smiled.

“Thankfully we didn’t scare you off then.”

“It’s going to take a lot more than that to scare me off. And thank you for having me over, I had a great time with all of you.” You said.

“We’ll do it again some time-”

“Are you out now? I hear a train!” Wooyoung must have snatched the phone from Hongjoong. You could hear Hongjoong scolding the mischievious boy while Wooyoung ignored him and laughed playfully.

“Mhmm. I’m on a train.” You nodded, even if he couldn’t see you. You didn’t give too much away as to where you were or where you were going.

“Stop disturbing her and let her enjoy her day off! And give me back my phone!” There was the sound of a tussle and Wooyoung screaming before the call cut. You looked at your phone in shock. You couldn’t help but laugh, covering your mouth with your hand over your mouth to prevent your laughter from being too loud and disturbing the other passengers.

When the train announced your stop, you got up and exited the train. Although you didn’t get to work during the train ride like you intended, you were grateful for the call with Ateez.

“Ahjumma.” You greeted as you pushed open the gate. The old lady that was sweeping the ground looked up, a slight frow on her face. But she never said anything more, turning to head into the house.

“Haneul?” You called out. There were little footsteps and giggles from behind you. Bending down, you caught the little girl in your arms, hugging her tight and lifting her up. As she wrapped her arms around you, you inhaled her scent.

“Hi, baby.” You whispered.

“Unnie!” She grinned, both hands reaching out to pull your mask down. You didn’t stop her, just continuing to smile softly at her.

“I missed you.” You pushed her hair away from her face. From the back of the house, you heard a lot more children laughter but decided against going there. You were here for Haneul and Haneul only, she was your priority. You straightened up and held her hand.

“Hold on first, yeah?” You told her to wait as you went into the house. The old lady from earlier sat in front of the television, a bored look on her face.

“Here is Haneul’s living expenses.” You bowed, holding the envelope of cash in front of you. She wordlessly sat up and took the money, stuffing it into her pocket before waving you off.

Haneul was your cousin, who you decided to care for in their stead. They were going to give her up for adoption but you stuck a deal with the orphanage owner.

While you worked, the lady that owns the orphanage helps you to take care of her. In return, all you have to do is give her money for Haneul’s living expenses and her schooling. Unlike the other kids, Haneul goes to public kindergarten.

She doesn’t care much but at least she continues to hold up her end of the deal, using your money to care for Haneul and not putting her up for adoption with the other children.

“Are we going to your house today?” Haneul looked at you.

“Not today, baby. I’m sorry. Next week, you’ll stay with me for two nights.” You promised. Her eyes lit up as she nodded excitedly.

“Can we go to the zoo?” She requested.

“Of course, we’ll do anything you want.” You said. When Haneul came to the stay with you, you always made it about her. You brought her to a nearby park and brought her ice cream.

“Do you like it?” You asked. The 4 year old nodded her head happily. Haneul was your world, she was the only thing that motivated you to continue doing what you do. Soon, you hope to get her out of the system and have her live with you like she’s supposed to. But your job needed you to work 24/7, it would be unfair to her if she was with you and you couldn’t be there for her.

“I love you so much, you know that?” You smiled down at her. She held up her ice cream to you to share it with you.

“I love you too, unnie. Even if I don’t see you every day, I like that we can still video call! And I like staying over at your house with you.” She giggled while you wiped the ice cream off her lips.

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theinnerunderrain · 1 year

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Exchanges between Women [Yan! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader]

Warnings: Yandere themes, unconsenual kissing, deception, implications of violence, slightly suggestive content towards the end.

The Raiden Shogun was uncertain of why she had opted to keep Kunikuzushi alive, let alone assign him a name.

He emerged as a result of constructing the Shogun. She could be beginning to feel indebted to him in some way, but she restrained from attempting to control him. Perhaps that's the reason she's enabling him to stay in her residence for so long and why she's postponing implementing Miko's advice to get rid of him.

She likewise felt a twinge of guilt after witnessing him establish friendships with a young woman from the Kamisato clan, despite the fact that she knew he was too frail to handle the responsibilities of the Shogun and really had no purpose of being brought to existence. But it was too early to make any quick judgments; perhaps she'll give him a little more time to appreciate his tranquillity, or perhaps that's what she constantly tells herself.

He is harmless in any case, so there is no reason to subject him to suffering.

Given his incredibly mild nature, which prevented him from expressing any desires or demands, this was the first time in his brief life that he had ever desired for anything. She thought that if he could build a relationship outside of his comfort zone, he could be more than capable of taking care of himself. She therefore permitted him to pose as a young woman and don the attire of a lady of Inazuma because he claimed that this was the only method a timid woman like you would let him get near to you.

He was correct, despite the fact that his morals appear a little skewed. He may not yet have a firm understanding of what is good and wrong, and morality isn't her strong suit considering her understanding of it did fade over time.

The two of you got overly close after a few get-togethers and playdates. In the view of the general public, they would appear to be two close friends, but Shogun knew better and couldn't shake off that strange feeling. Kunikuzushi had a pretty physique, making it much simpler for him to abruptly pose as a woman, thus it was almost convincing.

Maybe she should halt this play before it develops into something much worse that she would later regret.

It should be fine. He's harmless.

Ei stopped at the door, positioned her delicate fingers on the doorknob, and eased it a little bit open, breathing out an unintentional sigh. It has been a few hours, so it was time for you to end this date of yours and return home. However, what she saw beyond the doorway made her shiver—you and the puppet were both nodding off against the chair. The indigo-haired man was dozing off in your lap, his dark hair spilling over the edge of your lap as you sat erect with your eyes closed. She was aware of Kunikuzushi's partiality toward you, but she may not have foreseen the extent to which he would develop feelings for you.

No, it was her fault. She should have known a fragile being such as Kunikuzushi would end up developing some sort of attachment towards others sooner or later.

Maybe she's just overthinking?

You both must have slept off after sipping some tea. Maybe it's best if she returns later, there's no point in disturbing your peace.

Ei peeks through the door's opening once more as she prepares to seal it, but as she does, she is diverted by the sound of faint shuffling. In order to get up, Kunikuzushi lifted himself off your knee, positioned himself against your lap, and leaned a little too close to you for the Shogun to consider it appropriate. She was aware that you only permitted him to approach you so closely because you believed he was a woman. Perhaps she even felt a little bad for letting him fool you in that way.

What is he…?

Your cheeks are pinched between Kunikuzushi's fingers as he chuckles lightly, causing you to squirm and turn in your sleep due to the intense discomfort.

What a mischievous child. Quite rude to be doing that to someone who's sleeping.

The Shogun let out a further sigh as she prepared to enter the room and reprimand the puppet for his uncivil behaviour and demand that he leave you alone. But once more, the Shogun comes to a stop as she observes in astonishment as Kunikuzushi leans so near to your face that his nose was practically brushing over the side of your flesh.

It was her first time seeing him allowing himself to be vulnerable to others.

He appears to study at your face before descending to give you a chaste kiss on the lips while trying to incline his head so that your lips may fit together more pleasantly. The sight was illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the drapes, which Shogun thought was reminiscent of the lovely Sakuras that would frequently bloom in spring. If it had been carried out with her approval rather than without, she would have felt it was a superb picture. She was aware of how repulsed you would be if you ever learned that a man had polluted you, given that you weren't married to him.

Poor child.

Kunikuzushi leans back and carefully traces the contour of your face with his fingertips up to your cheekbones, ending behind your ears. As he drew you closer for a second kiss, he this time put his tongue in between your lips, licked the inside of your mouth, and then chewed on your bottom lips. His eyes were half closed and his face was a bright scarlet, and when his other hand slid under your kimono, Ei couldn't help it but uttered his name.

"... Kunikuzushi."

When the Raiden stepped back, she unintentionally bumped up against the door, causing Kunikuzushi to break off his kiss and gaze at the entrance. As if he were a predator discovering his prey, his eyes appeared to turn gloomy and ominous. Both of them made eye contact, with Kunikuzushi appearing to glare at her—surprising given his generally reserved demeanour. He appeared to have been caught red-handed when his hands slipped out of your kimono, but he made no effort to apologise or explain himself.

He doesn't understand his actions were wrong.

Kunikuzushi maintains his fixed gaze on Raiden before making the shush gesture with his lips and fingers. In fear that you might wake up and realise your predicament, perhaps even causing you to lose your temper and become despondent, Raiden made no attempt to move.

No, he knows that his actions were one of sin.

Yet he doesn't care.

After all, perhaps she ought to have listened to Miko.

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the-oaken-muse · 11 months

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Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse

Dannymay Day 24: NASA

Read it on AO3, if you dare.

Of all the places in the Infinite Realms Juno could have sent him for community service, it had to be the fucking Ghost Zone. He never thought he’d miss the Netherworld, but at least there he didn’t have to deal with Warden Pasty Face and the stick up his entire ass.

He banked a hard left, bobbing and weaving through the zero gravity obstacle course provided by the ectoplasmic landscape. Behind him, the thud of armor against rock let him know he was down a pursuer, as one of the guards collided with an island of floating debris.

God, this place was a dump.

He dove through a thick patch of green fog before ducking behind one of the many floating doors littering the not-air; grateful that he didn’t have breath to catch. Walker’s goons zoomed past his hiding place, following his previous trajectory on a trail that didn’t exist.

Ha! Suckers!

He may have evaded them for now, but he would have to keep moving. When they realized that he’d lost them, they would fan out and search, leaving no stone unturned until they eventually found him and dragged him squirming back to that hell hole of a prison to be crushed under Walker’s boot once more. He needed to put as much distance between himself and this part of the Zone as possible. Or better yet, find a way to the human realm.

He looked to his left, green. He looked to his right, green. He looked down, an endless abyss of green stared back at him.

Looks like he was going to have to ask for directions. Great.

The next door he came across was a deep shade of plum with intricate panels of solid mahogany and a crystal knob. He yanked it open.

“Hey! Anybody home? Hello? I’m lookin’ for—”

A sopping wet sponge splashed against his face. It lingered there for a moment before slowly sliding down, down, down and falling into the chasm below, leaving his face dripping suds. “…the ...nearest portal to Earth.”

The door slammed shut.

“Ugh, soap.” He wiped his face with his sleeve, smearing it with fresh grime.

He floated over to another door, this one a dark weathered indigo with a heavy iron latch. He pulled it open with a loud creak, “Wazzup!”

A burly, tattooed arm emerged from the dark interior and slapped him across the face with a dead fish before slamming the door shut.

Jesus, the ghosts here were rude. At least it wasn’t soap this time.

Next, he spun the wheel on a silvery lavender hatch until it popped up with a hiss.

“Hullo down there!” his voice echoed back. “I’m lookin’ for a human portal! Can ya help a brother out?”

A thick tentacle, in a green so dark it was almost black, snaked out of the hole. In a blink, the tentacle lashed itself around his neck, crushing his useless windpipe.

“Look, I’m a hugger as much as the next guy, but this is a little forward, don’tcha think?” he wheezed.

In response, it whipped him back and flung him into the infinite green like a pitcher throwing a fastball.

He soared, eyes watering, hair whipping, and jowls flapping, for what felt like an eternity, but the five watches on his arm all agreed was only a few minutes.

His flight ended abruptly when he splatted against a strange metal structure. Its surface hummed with energy, vibrating his entire being. He peeled himself off, smoothing out the dents its rivets left in his skin, and took a look. A swirling vortex brighter than the surrounding ectoplasm filled its patchwork steel frame. Unlike the other doors, it remained fixed in place rather than floating up and down gently in a sea of green; it was anchored to something, to another dimension.

Bingo.

He stood on the edge of the portal, plugged his nose, and dove into the pool of light.

The portal spat him out in a large room made of the same patchwork metal as the doorway. Though the scent of death was strong here, in the glowing green of the machinery and in the air, it was mixed through with the unmistakable vitality of the living.

Perfect. Now he just needed to… find a way to get his powers back again…

He slumped forward and groaned.

Living people with The Sight were one in a million, and of those, the ones that were dumb teenagers were even fewer. There was no way Lydia was going to help him out again after the whole fiasco with their wedding either. He needed a new plan, a new pawn… well, there was no time like the present to start looking.

He floated up, poking his head through the ceiling into a modest kitchen. There was a table for four in the middle of the room, but only one chair was occupied. A pair of faded blue jeans and beat up red sneakers bounced impatiently and he could hear the scratch of pencil on paper. Sounded like homework. Bo-ring!

Like a shark fin cutting through the waves, the top half of his head glided across the floor to the fridge. Maybe they had beer.

A small pile of brown crumbs just under the door caught his attention. He sniffed at them, chocolatey. He floated a little higher so that his mouth breached the tile and licked up the remains of someone else’s fridge raid.

“Mmm, fudge.”

The kid at the table startled and looked over in his direction. He could almost believe they were making eye contact right now.

It couldn’t be that easy, could it?

“Who the heck are you?”

Looks like it could. He cracked a rotten grin and rose fully out of the floor.

“I’m the Ghost with the Most, pleasure to meet ya, kid.”

He held out a hand to shake, a centipede skittered down his arm and around his dirt-crusted knuckles before heading back into his sleeve. The boy just stared at the proffered digit in disgust.

“The most what? Grease stains on your shirt?”

“That and so much more! You name it, I’ve got it. Charm, good looks, STDs—”

“Modesty.” The boy deadpanned.

“Hey! I’ll have you know I wear pants at least…” he began counting the fingers on one hand, “thirty percent of the time!”

“That’s not what I— You know what? Give me one good reason I shouldn’t soup you right now.” The boy snatched a thermos off the table and waved it threateningly.

Jeez, tough crowd.

He wasn’t sure what kind of soup was in there, but something told him he didn’t want to find out.

“Beeecauuuuse…” His eyes darted around for something he could use to turn the situation to his favor. Math worksheet? No. Half eaten sandwich? Maybe later. NASA t-shirt? Perfect. “I’m a star, kid.”

“Oh yeah? What kind of star?” The boy narrowed his eyes skeptically.

“Red supergiant, Orion constellation… I’m sure you’ve heard of me…”

He crossed his fingers behind his back. Please work, please work.

“Betelgeuse?”

“Got it in one, kid.” He swallowed his relief and winked. “You’re even quicker on the uptake than Lydia!”

“Who?”

“Uhh, no one! Hey, what’s that?”

Betelgeuse darted over to a group of photos on a shelf and picked one up.

“Who’s the chick in the tight blue suit?” He whistled, letting the back of the frame fall open and the picture to unfold. “Really doesn’t leave much to the imagination does it?”

“Um, ew! That’s my mom!” The kid snatched the photo out of his hands and inspected the back of it. “How did you even do that?”

“I’d let her be my mommy any time.”

“…I will literally do anything for you to never talk about my mom ever again.”

“Anything?”

“Like, within reason. I’m not gonna, you know, kill anybody or anything.”

“Would you… be willing to… maybe… say my name three times in a row?” He bit his lip in anticipation.

The kid considered him suspiciously. “Is this like a kink thing?”

“What? No! Pshhh! No! Well maybe sometimes… Absolutely not, no. Cross my heart! See!” He drew an X on the right side of his chest.

“Yeah, no. Still don’t trust you.”

“C’mon kid!” He skidded to his knees in front of the boy. “Please, please, please! I’ll owe you one! I’m good for it! Promise!”

He clutched at the NASA shirt desperately. He couldn’t let this kid slip through his fingers, it might be another hundred years before he found another living person who could see him. He’d tasted the blood of freedom and he wanted more.

The boy grimaced and tried to pull away, Betelgeuse scrabbled after him. “I’ll get out of your hair, promise! Just three little words! Just three!”

“Okay, jeez, fine. If it’ll get you leave,” the boy groaned.

“YES! I mean!” He cleared his throat, “Yes.”

“Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse, Betelgeuse. Now get out of my house.”

Power surged then fizzled within him.

“Wow. That was anticlimactic.” He deflated. “Ah well, a deal’s a deal! See ya kid!”

He flew up through the ceiling with a sloppy salute.

What a chump! That was almost too easy.

-later-

That was definitely too easy.

Betelgeuse scowled as yet another hand reached through his head to grab a jug of milk.

His powers had been on the fritz ever since he got them back. One minute he was turning the floor into a writhing mass of roaches, the next, poof, they were gone! The unsuspecting sap he’d been about to scar for life left… unscarred.

He could tap someone on the shoulder, but when they turned around, they just looked straight through his carefully crafted horror show of a face; he’d hidden in dumpsters to jumpscare people taking out their trash, but they didn’t even see him; and his fruit fly cream pies went right through their targets.

Figures, it was just his luck that the one fucking human in this whole damn city who could see him was fucking defective.

Betelgeuse opened the glass door and stepped out of the grocery store refrigerator, he needed to find that kid.

#dannymay2023 #day 24 nasa #danny phantom #danny fenton #beetlejuice #betelgeuse #space nerd danny #loose interpretation of the prompt #crack #crack fic #swearing #feel free to peer pressure me to continue this one after dannymay

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beebotea · 10 months

Text

hey, are you listening? — part 02

summary: in which uni students decipher vague tweets and emotions... + ie: second-year students y/n and xiao are forced to work through their term project (and feelings) as their friends attempt to meddle with their love lives ‘for the greater good’ cw : swearing, slut-shaming, suggestive, reader she/her pronouns.

[prev] [masterlist] [next]

02. redemption party

act 1, scene 1

—

act 2, scene 1

With a frustrated sigh, Xiao stood up and walked out the door, leaving his cousin to finish smoothing out his hair alone.

“Hey, wait man! It was a joooke,” Scaramouche called from within the room, before Xiao heard the door open up again behind him. “It’s not like everyday we see you take any sort of interest in anyone… Come on a small thing like that is gonna shake up the great and mighty all powerful Xiao?” The (barely) younger cousin gave the other a light punch on the shoulder.

Despite often playing with Scaramouche as a kid and rooming with him for almost a year now, Xiao still never got used to the way he would joke and tease others. The teasing Hu Tao did wasn’t even close to how much of an instigator the bowl cut wearing male in front of him was. Although, it wasn’t his teasing that bothered the black and teal haired boy this time…

“Would you feel better if I said sorry? You don’t hear that one from me everyday!” It was true, an apology from the boy was rare, occurrences of such instances being far and very few in between. However, Xiao only shook his head in response.

“I don’t know, Kuni, sorry for getting so worked up I guess.” Xiao mumbled.

“You’re not usually that upset over a text… something the matter? Is it the girl? Oh! Did you already confess to her and got rejected? You sneaky bastard~—Ow!”

“No it’s not that—“

“Then why don’t you just talk to her like the other guys said? You’re clearly curious and I know you think she’s attractive. Who knows maybe you won’t be a virgin after tonigh—Ow! Stop hitting me!”

“Then stop saying stupid things. And you know I don’t like talking to strangers. You don’t either.”

Scaramouche shrugged. “Yeah but if I want something, like a hookup or a relationship, then I’ll put in the work to get it. What’s that thing you always say? ‘Everything requires a sacrifice,’ yeah?”

“…”

“And it’s not like you’re starting from scratch either, you guys have a common class to talk about.”

With another sigh, Xiao pats his cousin’s back in a silent thanks for his effort to console him. “I’ll think about it.”

“What’s all the commotion?” The two look up to see Kazuha and Heizou emerge from their room all dressed up and ready for a fun night out with their friends.

Scaramouche gave a look to Xiao to which he received a shrug. The indigo haired boy told their dorm mates of Xiao’s dilemma.

“Hey if you want I can wing man for you!” Heizou smiled at him.

“And I can find you a nice drink to ease the nerves alright? Everything will be just fine, my friend. But until then, we really must get going. We’re already late and I don’t want Aether yelling at us in front of Lumine’s friends when we get there.” Kazuha spins Xiao around and the three Inazumans escort the Liyue native out of the dorm and towards the tavern.

—

act 2, scene 2

Y/N looked over to Hu Tao who pointed into the general direction where Kaveh and Tighnari would come from. Surely enough, the four Sumeru musketeers emerged from the street corner and was walking towards them. Y/N fidgeted in place as she heard the oncoming voices of Aether’s other friends, a few she recognized and some she didn’t.

From that crowd she saw, Heizou, Xiao and Gorou from philosophy, and Childe from first year ethics. However, the boy with platinum blonde hair with a red streak, the one with a mullet and a snarky smile as he conversed, and the other with turquoise braids were relatively unknown to her other than one apparently being Xiao’s cousin.

Before she could snap her attention back to her two arriving friends, Y/N had accidentally caught a glimpse of amber eyes and made eye contact. The two quickly looked away as if nothing happened.

“Come on, Y/N, let’s go wait inside. Ooh we should order the good drinks before they’re all gone! You can talk to your boy crush laterrr~~” Hu Tao gave Y/N a wink before dragging her into the tavern by the hand.

The twins spotted the two friends and dragged them to one of the three tables immediately. It seemed that Aether even helped out with seat assignment—which was strange because she’d never heard of a seating arrangement for a party at a bar… Luckily, Y/N were seated beside Hu Tao with Yanfei sitting across from the two. A quick glance around the table told Y/N that the the rest of the table would consist of mostly Aether’s band mates.

“Hey! You slackers! Took you long enough to get here.” Aether’s voice echoed through the tavern and the party goers turned to see the incoming group.

He brought the arriving stragglers to their tables and sat everyone down as Childe was pulled by the ear to the center of the three tables.

“I can’t tell whether this is a college party or a wedding reception…” Y/N whispered to Hu Tao as the guests took their seats. Y/N’s giggling seemed to be cut short when she realized who had just taken a seat next to her.

Xiao had just sat down in the chair beside her, his cousin taking his place between him and Yanfei. Hu Tao’s side of empty seats were filled with the boy with braids and Heizou found himself in the empty seat beside Yanfei.

Amongst the new crowd, Y/N had only ever spoken to Heizou before… once.

Hey, can I borrow a pencil? Man alive I’m so stupid for forgetting my stuff on the first day.

Oh, yeah sure no problem.

Thanks! I’ll bring it back after class.

Ever since then, the two only interacted with vague waves and friendly smiles of acquaintances. In other words, Y/N was at a loss on what to say or even begin to converse with Aether’s friends.

All eyes turned to Childe in the center who thanked everyone for showing up and dressing up for his party, not expecting everyone to go all out. The guests around Y/N cheered as he confirmed that all drinks would be on him tonight and wished for everyone to have a good time.

Luckily, the boy with the braids sitting beside Hu Tao was the first to break the silence after Childe’s speech.

“So… I’m guessing not everyone is acquainted with each other so I’ll start! My name’s Venti, I’m in the Performing Arts program and I’m the leader, keys and vocalist of our band, 6WIRL! Asides from the guys and Hu Tao, it’s very nice to meet you two.” He gave Y/N and Yanfei a cute and welcoming smile that helped them calm their nerves a little.

“Nice to meet you! I’m Yanfei. I’m in Pre-Law as of now.”

“Woah, Pre-Law? That’s so cool! Allow me to introduce myself, I’m Shikanoin Heizou, future detective and current Criminology student. I’m our group’s resident drummer!” Heizou’s smooth voice spoke up next as he greeted everyone.

“I’m Y/N. I’m a student in our Bachelors of Marketing program. It’s nice to meet everyone!”

“And I’m Hu Tao! Business Management major~”

“Xiao. I study psychology… I play bass for 6WIRL. Nice to meet you guys.” Xiao mumbled from beside you, still not taking his eyes off of his phone since sitting down.

“I’m Scaramouche. I’m in Mechatronics Engineering and I play lead electric guitar. I’m also this idiot’s cousin.” Scaramouche side eyed his cousin and playfully slapped his shoulder a little harder than warranted, a signal to get him off his phone.

“Eh… don’t mind them heheh, those two are notorious for being ass at making friends.” Venti smiled at Y/N, who eyed the duo. “And our last two members are over… there, Kazuha, our rhythm guitarist and Aether, our vocalist and backup leader.” He pointed over at the table closer to the doors where the male twin and platinum blonde boy with the red streak of hair sat.

The rest of the evening played our fairly well, Y/N’s table of seven became quite talkative as Heizou and Venti continued to joke around with everyone and Scaramouche eased himself into the conversations.

It had turned out that Hu Tao and Venti were part of the same performance club for a little back in first year, which was why they had already known each other quite well. Even the members of other tables came to join the conversations and bring over cool drinks that they wanted to share with everyone. Y/N ended up making a good amount of new friends that night and increased her contacts list by quite a few numbers.

However, to her, the night seemed to be a little bitter as she couldn’t help but notice Xiao disinterested in all of the chatter. Even the few times she tried to initiate small talk with him, she was met with dry answers that barely met her ears.

Perhaps he wasn’t feeling well or maybe he didn’t really like her presence to begin with… Y/N, who hoped to get closer with the black and teal haired Liyuen decided to give up on the night’s original conquest. Perhaps it was a better idea to switch gears for his quick-witted and shaper-tongued cousin, who had been eyeing her like a slab of meat the whole evening.

—

taglist — comment to be added!

@ashhh-14 @sanghyuksgasolinestationscream

—

#[smau — hey are you listening?]#genshin impact x reader #genshin smau #genshin college au #xiao x reader #xiao smau #genshin xiao

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historiaxvanserra · 10 months

Note

hate fuck with Eris x reader pls!

HATE FUCK | ERIS VANSERRA

18+ please bitches. It's porn with minimal plot.

Warnings: enemies (ish) to lovers, established relationship, sort of dub-con (not really).

also i know the prompt was hate fuck but for some reason it came out more like two idiots in love but no one wants to admit it. don't judge me.

Sapphire skies melt into a darkening indigo as the last rays of sun sink below the backdrop of The Forest House and the sound of gentle orchestral music is a symphony in the crisp Autumn air.

The sea of dancing bodies inside the main hall glitter like a jewel toned wave as the chandeliers light kisses the Ladies' tiaras and dresses adorned in crystals.

From the outside looking in, this is a world away from the home you had grown up in. The Windhaven camp had not been kind to you, a half-breed woman of low birth.

Had Rhysand's mother not taken pity on you, this life would have been little more than a fever dream; the opulent dresses, and expensive wines, decadent parties and indulgent companions.

It may be beautiful but there is no denying the ostentation of it all. All of this grandeur and ceremony when the common folk still want.

Still suffer and starve while the aristocracy live in a world where hedonism is revered and indulgence is praised.

You imagine none of these people have ever known what it truly is to want.

Before you are able to abandon yourself to the thought your attention falls onto the figure emerging from the main doors.

They're swathed in shadow and from your place against the fountain you can just about make out that it is a Male who descends the steps with an otherworldly grace. He's tall and broad. And the strands of his unbound hair billow in the wind behind him in a silken drape.

As the figure stalks through the grounds and rounds the corner at the fountain he is bathed in the golden-hued faelight from the patio.

Eris Vanserra.

He walks with purpose towards you and as he falls into view you can't help but admire the way his skin shines like opal in the moonlight, or the way his face, half-shadowed, seems to hold some dark and ancient knowledge.

He's beautiful in a way that reminds you of old Gods, long forgotten. It's a strange and harsh type of beauty. And you hate him for it.

He has the kind of face that could bring cities to their knees and he knows it.

Eris Vanserra carries his beauty like a burden; he's all arrogance and self-loathing. A tempting oxymoron. And you hate him for it.

"Did no one tell you it's in poor taste to abscond from a party before your hosts?" The Autumn Prince sneers, furrowing his brow as he takes you in.

You hate him.

"Clearly you people know very little of good taste," You retort, digging you heel into the dirt beneath your barefeet and tilting your chin in defiance.

Eris eyes you carefully, a small smirk ghosting his face. His painfully beautiful face.

Why does he have to be so damned ethereal? And fierce. It's perverse and wholly confusing.

"And what is that supposed to mean, love?" he asks in feigned courtesy as he inclines his head towards you.

You hate him.

"Do you know that for one of those pretty dresses," You say pointing through the large window into the ballroom that glitters ruby and topaz, "you could afford to feed an entire village?.

Eris' broad shoulders visibly stiffen at the venom in your tone as you turn your gaze back onto him.

"I didn't know that," he swallows thickly. Perhaps learning to finally swallow some of his pride.

"Of course you didn't," you laugh bitterly, "you have never known what it is to go without."

"To be left wanting."

The laugh your words tear from him lights a fire in you, that signature louche quality he has to him. Total indifference. Tainted with something else. Something dark and base. It burns you in the most masochistic sort of way.

You hate him.

"Believe me, little girl," he spits, taking one long stride towards you so that his chest is inches from yours, "I know what it is to want."

He's half-breathless as he turns his darkening amber eyes upon you.

Gods, he looks like divine in this light. Like some sort of fallen angel. Ephemeral and cruel.

"And what do you want, Eris?" You eye him carefully, the rise and fall of his chest and the sheen of sweat that coats the exposed planes of skin under his shirt.

The way he looks at you then is enough to bring you to your knees. He moves like a predator, silent and resolute and his eyes glint against the black. Wild and dark.

"I want," He rasps as he cages you between strong arms, "You." his breath is hot as it fans your face.

Heat coils in your stomach and spreads through you like a wildfire.

"I hate you." You remind him.

Eris chuckles darkly, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger and forcing you to look at him.

The air is laden with the smell of him. Sandalwood and birch. Stained darker by the scent of his arousal.

"and yet," He whispers against the shell of your ear, like it is a secret shared between two lovers.

"You want me too."

His kiss is harsh and just a little painful, all teeth and tongue as he fights for dominance. His hands rest on your hips, fingers brusing the tender flesh beneath.

He wants to mark you. Wants to leave behind the remnants of his desire. To remind you of who you belong to. Belong with.

Your hands find purchase on his shoulders and as he deepens the kiss they become entangled in his long auburn hair.

The sound that leaves him is something akin to a growl. It's dark and animalistic. Claiming.

He tears his mouth from yours and you're left breathless and aching for him.

The way his teeth come to graze your neck feels like sin. And you find yourself begging. For release. For him. You're not entirely sure.

You had sworn you hated him but when his large hands come to rest on the exposed skin of your thigh you're not entirely sure where the line between love and hate began to blur.

Eris' laugh is cruel and taunting as his hands play with the hem of your pretty dress.

It shines like quartz every time the clouds clear and the crystal refracts in the moonlight.

"I wonder how many villages I could feed with this, hm?". Eris whispers to you as one hand continues his ascent up your exposed thigh and the other begins to pull at the restricting fabric.

For a moment he suffices to bunch the fabric at your waist but when the tight material reaches the apex of your thighs you find it constricting and unhelpful.

The tearing of fabric fills the night air followed by a sharp inhale of breath as Eris lifts you from the ground, your back slamming into the stone wall with an uncomfortable pressure.

"You ripped my favourite dress!" You complain, your hand flying to steady yourself against Eris' solid form as he holds you in his bruising grip.

"I'll buy you a hundred more," He promises against your lips, his teeth nipping at the sulk of your lower lip, "and for every one, I'll feed a hundred villages."

His promises are not empty ones. This you know. You and Eris have been doing this dance for longer than you care to admit.

You learned early on that there is a fine line between love and hate and with Eris that line is one crossed frequently. With reckless abandon. It is a line you crossed willingly, and you would do so again, in an instant because--

"Just let me have you." Eris' urgent hands finally hit their mark at the apex of your thighs, rubbing slow circles through the thin material of your panties.

"You have me," You remind him drawing him into a kiss, much more ardent and longing than the previous biting "so take me."

Wordlessly Eris lifts you against the wall once more, the gritty surface a cruel juxtaposition against the smooth expanse of your back.

Angling your hips as he frees his aching cock from his riding pants you moan into his mouth as he pulls gently at your lower lip.

His hot breath against your face, the heat building in your stomach from the ministrations of his deft fingers is of little consequence when you feel the thick tip of him pressing against your entrance.

"Fuck, love." Eris voice is a low growl in your ear as he sinks into you, your walls fluttering around him like a velvet vice when you feel him pressing against that sweet spot deep inside of you.

"So good for me," he coos as he thrusts harshly into you. His hips digging into yours with such force that causes your whole body to shake as he resumes those slow, torturous circles on your clit.

"I hate you," You remind him. You remind yourself.

"I hate you too," The way he says it is loaded with something else, something hidden. All the words you could not say.

Eris sets a brutal pace as he fucks into you, his breaths coming in sporadic succession as he nears his own release.

You feel your own imminent orgasm as it begins to wash over you. Eris brushes a stray hair away from your face as he holds your weight in his strong arms as he continues his assault on your aching cunt.

"That's it pretty love," He whispers, his words simple yet filled with something akin to adoration and much too far from the usual menace that marks his words, "cum on my cock."

Eris' encouragement is all the permission you need as you give into the wave of euphoria that washes over you like a tidal wave. The world blurs at its edges as Eris fucks you through your orgasm, chasing his own release.

"I hate you," You say airily, biting into the skin of his neck in a futile attempt to muffle the sounds of your pleasure as it breaks apart in your mouth.

Eris comes with a thunderous moan that pulls at your heart in a way that terrifies you. The feeling of his seed spilling out of your pulls you back to reality.

Eris laughs once more bringing you into another burning kiss. Only this time he is more deliberate and tender with you.

"I hate you too."

#eris vanserra #acotar x reader #acotar #eris x you #eris x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris acotar #eris headcanons #eris vanserra x reader

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erenspussy420 · 11 months

Text

Android Au TWST pt3

You knew what you wanted to see, after all it’s exactly what brought you here in the beginning. To this odd fancy shop, looking something like a gothic romantics dream, its odd mosaic tiles and the faint smell of wood and metal. You turn to the giddy Owner, who’s eyes look bright behind her pink mask as she waits for you as patiently as she could.

Which isn’t much seeing how the tip of her heels drag back and forth into the carpet of the floor.

“I want to see the Pomefiore Collection,” You tell her, pointing to the halls past the painted murals of twisted apple tree’s. The manager, who’s name you should care to check their name tag, nods eagerly. She tucks away her duster into her dress, leaving no dent of it.

She swings her hands towards the halls in a grand gesture,” Right this way! This way! Here you’ll see quite the beauties that not even Royal Sword Automation can boast about!” She trills like a bird, already having her hand behind your back not touching you but still urging you into the hall.

You wisely keep your mouth shut about the Neige Unit. You only saw pictures of the Vil Unit, and God, someone must have been in a good mood to make him. The Vil Unit is notoriously expensive, and you heard of people even willing to get into debt for him, not that you could understand. Really what android is worth that pain?

Biting your lip in excitement as you pass the murals of apple groves, at some point the budget of this company comes true as the tree branches emerge slowly out of the walls of the hall— now it feels like a small forest. As the leaves look glossy and true, branches touching you remind you of hands. At some point the hall ends at heavy doors, a bit dramatic but it adds flavor to the anticipation of the androids of Pomefiore.

The manager pats her dress, looking and peeking into her clothes as if trying to find something. You wait patiently, but you have to admit the manager is scatterbrained. The Owner mumbles in wonder, looking into her sleeves and her apron finding nothing but lint and her invoices. She pats her hair in distress but feeling a bump in her bun, she lets out a loud triumphant cry.

“Oh! I found it! Silly me!” she giggles pulling a golden key, slim and with an odd oval handle, out of her hair bun. You grimace seeing she had to tug it out.

“Ow! Okay, prepare to be amazed!” The manager speaks in her grand voice, with you politely clapping. ”Here the beauties of Pomefiore have no rivals! The amazing trio!”

With a soft click of the door, the loud creaks of the heavy doors give way to soft wisps of purple smoke, the room was dark with a faint gleam of marble pillars. Unlike the lower floor displays, these glass cases lay flat, their androids resting with their hands over their chests like a display of the sleeping soundly in their glowing coffins that glitter. In a way, you are reminded of the stories of sleeping princesses hidden in towers, awakened by true love’s kiss. In the darkness of the room, deep indigo tapestries hung above them, an apple, a bow, and a crown.

The manager watches you walk with a dazed look in your eyes as you find yourself drawn to the coffin-like display, glass with lights beneath, soft as the first snow. Staring at the display of a sweet face android, hair like lavender strewn across his pillow, eyes shut with lashes longer than your nails and soft pink lips. His clothes are like a kimono, like you say as there is an obvious difference in its style, with black sleeves covering his hands. His slim hands crossed over his waist with apple blossoms held between his hands. You wanted to see his eyes but that would be creepy to demand.

So you settle looking over him, wondering about his eyes, almost forgetting yourself as you touch the glass that felt warm. As you stare at them you don't hear the faint noise of metal squeaking.

“Oh! The Epel Felmier unit!” a sudden voice said way too close to your ear.

“Shit!” You yelp, frightened from the Owner suddenly appearing next to you. Scrambling, you push yourself off the poor androids display, looking at the manager with disdain. “A little bit of a warning would be nice!”

The manager shakes her hands rapidly,”My bad! I couldn’t help but notice your interest in the Epel Felmier Unit! Now let me tell you something about this short beauty, despite his cute looks he’s quite the little hot head!"

That, you can believe, as any short guy would be.

"Hard working, and willing to do just about any manly work,” She flexes her arms,” not to mention his units have been known to participate in the Harveston farming community, as a popular choice of android. A natural harvester and perfect unit for a cute sled date."

“So….a farm boy?” You ask, looking over him, and in a little awe you can spot soft delicate freckles splattered over his nose and cheeks. They're faint on his smooth 'skin' but noticeable, truly an art of the androids creators.

Even someone like yourself who lacks magic, can feel its faint pulse as they charge.

“Has the accent mode installed too!” The Owner then nudges her head to the other glowing glass case, where a taller unit is laid, in its case. Reluctantly you come to it. You can see high cheekbones, sharp with a more warmer complexion and a slight tan, his bob cut hair the color of dandelions that gently rest against the nape of his neck. Unlike the Epel unit, this one looks sturdy, his body lean but you can tell more fit with a muscular build.

" Here is the inspiration of the loyal huntsman of the Beautiful Queen. The Rook Hunt Unit! Loyal to its owner! Do you need a companion in the mountains or even your own personal ranger? Then the Hunt unit is for you. This deadly beauty is certified by most environmental rangers, and has been recommended by most outdoorsmen for those who want a guide or maybe if you are a fellow poet. Your own, admiring huntsman."

She winks as she looks down on the sleeping android. You don't blame her. Looking past his bob cut, even you had to admit there is a handsomeness to his looks, the curve of his sharp eyes closed and the dark lashes that grace his cheek bones. His lips are a bit thin, but look plump to kiss.

Unlike Epel, he held a hat that didn't match the scheme of his clothes. A brown hunter hat with a long white feather that curls. However it was his hands that rested on it that took you. Beautifully crafted, long fingers to knock bows, the grooves of his fingers and you can make a soft bump where he notches his arrows. Large hands and you can imagine what he can hold in them.

"Please stop touching the glass," The Owner pipes up, a bottle of winex in hand," it gets hard to get off."

Embarrassed, you clear your throat brushing your hair as the squeaky cleaning is done. You looked at the last coffin and felt your skin rise.

Stepping close, almost afraid, you could see him.

The Vil Unit.

If the other two were beautiful in a delicate or handsome sort of way then Vil was another level. There is a grace he was molded in, the curve of his jaw cutting yet a softness with it. The sharp shape of his eyes, yet there is a soft roundess brought by his long lashes. His hair a pale blond shade bordering white with oddly enough a soft ombre of purple at the tips of his hair. Long and braided back into a bun with a graceful twist, a gold decorated crown seated around him with hearts. Like the other two he wore his kimono inspired dress, his hands clasped together, soft and long with sharp painted nails. Even with no makeup he was breathtaking.

You didn't pay attention to the clearing noise of the Owner as you pressed into the glass in wonder.

Vil looked beautiful, a sleeping Queen instead of a prince surrounded by light of the fake flowers in his glass, the pink tint of his lips making them look so…so..

"Soft," you murmur over his face.

"Ahem!" You're pulled out of your trance as the Owner pulls you back, her friendly grin gone."Sorry, but no kissing the display case!"

An ungodly wheeze leaves you when you realize you're practically about to smooch the glass display. Face practically hot and sweaty, you turn away immediately embarrassed.

"I'm so so so sorry!" You apologize, stumbling over to the owner," I didn't-! I uh, this is so embarrassing!"

Feeling merciful the Owner sighs and begins to walk over with a winex bottle in hand and a towel she had on hand somewhere. "It's alright, you aren't the first one to try that," She sighs as she depressingly cleans Vil's display," this android gets more action than all of us."

That's oddly depressing, you think but you have no room to talk since you just tried to smooch the display.

Wiping down Vil's coffin, the Owner pipes up with a much warmer voice," As you can already tell Vil is our top best seller, a legacy android of the Schoenheit line, a popular model with both young and older groups. Whatever you want, an actor, a singer or even a trainer, Vil can do it. He's the best of the best, and can make anyone beautiful under his certified guided hands. As are most of our unit have been certified in their respective groups and for our customers' health."

"Oh! I know how handsome he is! Vil's tend to trend more!" Gushing over him, she looks at you with a more sympathetic look.

"Just looking at you, you might not be able to afford him but that's okay, he's too good for us both." She said assuring you.

"What! I can afford him!" You said defensively. Your bank account says otherwise but you will not acknowledge that or the loans.

"Yes of course!" She claps her hands rapidly like some golfer groupie," Customer can afford our brand lines like Vil!"

Oh, oh this owner! Annoyed, you look over Vil's display case to see how expensive and exclusive he must be just to see if you can pay it off in payments. Taking a glance at the pricing, your abruptly turn around on your heel and squeak," So about those other units!"

The Owner brightens and begins showing you out of the Pomefiore room and out into the dark hall.

Vil would have broken you.

#twst android au #android au #twisted wonderland #reader x twst #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt twisted wonderland #twst epel #epel felmier #epel x you #vil shoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #twst vil

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preservationofnormalcy · 6 months

Note

[Normal channels exhausted.]

[Backup channels exhausted.]

[Emergency alert triggered.]

Warning: Sites epsilon, delta, and gamma compromised. Lockdowns triggered. All agents, activate protocol indigo.

[Repeating message in 5... 4... 3... 2... 1...]

Indigo? We’re past indigo, who—

Did you hear that? Did you lock the door? Push a chair up against it. Check the closet, I had it stocked. Salt, yeah. You were trained on this, Jenny.

Why on earth are we still on Indigo, we should be on Wonderland….

The window. Jenny, the—get the window!

#office for the preservation of normalcy #ask #Halloween #wonderland protocol

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dangraccoon · 17 days

Text

Jari'eyc - Chapter 6

Read on AO3

Word Count: 1827

Warnings: anxiety, PTSD (Order 66 related), injuries (blaster grazes and hit, cuts, burn), impending awkward relationship conversation, medical care (stitches, bacta application), Echo and Fives are both lovesick puppies over the same woman, Tech just straight up telling it like it is

Fun fact: This description - "Echo said, his hand reaching up to rub that spot of his neck that always knotted up when he got stressed." - is based on what my mother refers to as her "mom knot".

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Hunter’s mind was still racing as Sinya scrambled to her feet, frantically looking around as she backed away from him. She watched him, her silvery eyes a depth of fear he’d rarely seen, then darted away in the direction of Movri’s stand.

“Wrecker!” he called as he got to his feet, pointing at the fleeing woman.

Wrecker noticed the woman running and stepped in front of her, blocking her path into the small alleyway.

“St-stay back,” she warned as Hunter got closer. He could just barely hear the soft hum of a vibroblade behind her cloak.

Hunter held his hands up, free of any weapons. “Take it easy, Sinya,” he spoke gently. “We’re not gonna hurt you.”

Sinya scowled, eyes darting back and forth between him and Wrecker. Hunter could hear her heart pounding.

“It’s okay,” he assured. “Can you put the knife away? We just want to talk.”

“You- you’re not going to- to attack me?” she whimpered, her tone wrapping around Hunter’s heart, constricting.

“We won’t,” he said. “I promise.”

“Hunter,” Wrecker whispered. Hunter followed his gaze to his own shirt, stained with a deep indigo.

Sinya coughed hard, the same indigo spattering from her lips. Her breathing was labored as she seemed to fight to stay on her feet.

Hunter hazarding a step forward. “Sinya-”

Sinya's eyes rolled back in her head as her body went limp. Hunter barely caught her before she hit the ground.

—

“I still can’t believe you’re really,” Echo breathed. He hadn’t taken his eyes off Runi in almost an hour.

“So you’ve said,” she smiled.

Fives snorted. “Yeah, Echo’s repeating things. How out of character.”

Echo rolled his eyes, but went quiet.

“We should probably talk about the bantha in the room,” Runi mumbled.

Fives shifted uncomfortably in his seat. She looked to Echo and saw a flash of confusion cross his features.

Echo’s comm pinged, but he pressed a button to ignore it.

“What bantha-”

The comm pinged again and Echo growled in frustration, tapping it. “What?”

“Echo, where are you?” Hunter asked.

“I’m with-” he faltered. “I’m with Fives.”

“Get back to the ship. We’ve got a guest and we don’t know if she had anyone following her.”

Echo shook his head. “‘Guest’? Hunter-”

The comm pinged again, signaling Hunter’s comm disconnecting.

“I hate it when he does that,” Echo grumbled.

“It sounds like there could be trouble,” Fives said warily.

“Maybe,” Echo agreed.

Runi tapped his hand. “Go,” she nodded. “We’ll still be here.”

Echo sighed. “Please come with me.”

“What-”

“Runi, I’m scared that if I let you out of my sight, you’ll disappear and this will have all been another dream.”

His golden eyes bore into her soul. “Okay,” she whispered.

The three of them made their way through Ord Mantell City, Echo’s hand never leaving Runi’s. Fives followed behind them, his nerves bundling deep in his gut as he watched the reunited couple.

“What’s the emergency?” Echo asked as he walked into the ship. He didn’t see anyone immediately, so he motioned for Runi and Fives to wait there. He listened carefully, following the hushed voices of his squad to the medbay.

The door was open and he peered in. His brothers were gathered, talking quietly to the side of the exam table. Omega was sitting in a chair next to it. There was someone laying on the table, but he couldn’t make out who.

Omega noticed him first, smiling and walking over to him.

He kneeled. “Hey, kid,” he gave her a small nod. “What’s going on?”

“Hunter and Wrecker were on the supply run and they found someone they know,” she informed him, glancing back at the person on the table. “But she’s hurt pretty badly.”

Echo nodded again, standing and walking over to the table. He felt his jaw go slack as he took in the sight before him. Sinya Bey was laid out on the table, unconscious, with bandages wrapped around her torso.

He felt like his brain was going to short circuit. “What-”

“She just about ran me over in the market,” Hunter informed him, coming to stand at his side. “She was… scared. Seemed like someone was chasing her.”

Echo scowled. “What the hell is she doing on Ord Mantell?”

“Don’t know. She barely got a few words out before she passed out, but she recognized us.”

Echo crossed his arms.

“Echo, she-” Hunter started before glancing back at the other group. His voice dropped to nearly a whisper. “She reminded me of the kid on Kaller; terrified, always checking over her shoulder.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” Echo muttered back. “Sinya’s not a Jedi.”

Hunter sighed, running his hand over his face. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I don’t like it. What if she’s bait?”

Echo’s eyes shut as he took a deep breath.

“Echo?” Fives called from the doorway.

Everyone’s heads turned to look at him.

“Right,” Echo nodded. He walked out to talk to him and Runi.

“What’s going on?” Runi asked.

“The woman in there… she’s a friend of-” Echo sighed. “Maybe was a friend of our old squadmate.”

Fives scowled. “The one that tried to kill you and was sent to hunt you all down?”

Echo nodded.

“Wait, what?” Runi sputtered.

“It’s a long story,” Echo said, his hand reaching up to rub that spot of his neck that always knotted up when he got stressed.

“Is she trying to kill you?” Fives asked, gesturing to Sinya’s unconscious form.

Echo shrugged. “Hunter said she seemed paranoid before, and she was badly injured. At least she’s not trying to kill us right now.”

Runi grabbed his hand, treasuring the way he squeezed it immediately. “Do you want me to take a look at her injuries?”

“Probably not a bad idea,” he nodded, showing her into the room.

Tech joined them as soon as they got to the exam table.

“A few grazes, one direct hit, several lacerations to the chest and abdomen, as well as a rather intense burn on her left palm and wrist,” he informed her. “We are unsure of the origins of her injuries.”

“Mind if I take a look?” Runi asked, already pulling back the thin blanket they’d covered her with.

“By all means,” Tech nodded. “I am highly skilled in many areas, however my medical abilities are more oriented for the field.”

Runi nodded, and began her examination of the twi’lek. She requested a few things from Tech, scissors or more light and Echo found he couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. It had been a very long time since he’d watched her work, and he remembered the way she took care of his brothers; efficient, but never lacking kindness or sympathy. He was sure his face was pure sappiness; like a lovesick lurca hound. What he didn’t notice was that his twin bore the same expression.

This didn’t escape Crosshair’s notice however. He nudged Hunter, tilting his head towards the Domino twins.

Hunter scoffed. “Could they be any more obvious?”

“Probably,” Crosshair chuckled.

“Kriff,” Runi muttered, taking in the sight of the woman’s wounds. “What happened to this girl?”

“As previously stated, we are unsure,” Tech answered. “We only have the information Hunter and Wrecker provided.”

Runi glanced up at him, a bemused smirk on her lips.

“That was…rhetorical, wasn’t it?” Tech scowled.

“Yeah,” Runi nodded, though her grin grew a little wider.

She set to work with Tech’s assistance, suturing the wounds before wrapping them again.

It took a while, most of the squad leaving to sit elsewhere in the ship, but Echo and Fives stayed, both sitting on the floor against the wall, right next to Jaine’s cot.

They’d been talking quietly for a few minutes, Tech couldn't hear what about, but he could tell the conversation was tense. He could tell Runi knew it too.

“Are you… okay?” he asked after noticing her right hand shaking a little.

“Fine,” she answered tersely.

“I can ask them to leave.”

Runi sighed. “I’ve never met more stubborn troopers than those two.”

“You have not truly met my batchmates.”

That got a chuckle out of her. “You ever work with the 501st?” He nodded once. “That pack was full of them, right up to Rex at the top. Never met him myself, but I heard Skywalker was, too.”

“It would not surprise me to learn that you were quite busy during your time with them.”

She was quiet for a moment. “What do you think they’re talking about?”

Tech hesitated. “Would you… prefer my actual opinion… or a more optimistic version?”

Runi glanced up at him, her face a mixture of surprise and confusion. She chuckled a little. “Your opinion, please.”

Tech used his arm to push his goggles up. “I believe it is fairly obvious that they are talking about you. Given how tense they seem I think perhaps they have figured out that they are both in love with you and discussing where to go from there.”

Runi paused her work for a moment, fully stopping to look up at him. “You’re rather blunt, aren’t you?”

“So I’ve been told,” he agreed. “However, you did ask for my opinion.”

“I know that,” she scoffed, smirk returning to her face. “And I know we’ve technically met before, but Raze is just a code name. My real name is Runi.”

“I am aware,” he stated, continuing when she shot a confused glance at him. “Crosshair discerned your identity before you came here with Echo.”

She didn’t reply, simply nodding her head a little. Before long they had finished the sutures and began applying bacta to the remaining wounds on her abdomen and chest.

As Tech applied the last bit to the graze on her upper arm and shot just above it, Runi unwrapped her burnt hand. She gasped lightly.

“What is it?” Tech inquired.

“I-I’ve seen a lot of burns in my time, but never one like this.”

Tech scowled. He had looked at the burn himself - it was second degree on her palm, first degree surrounding it - and hadn’t noticed anything unusual about it. He moved to stand next to her.

“It’s almost like- like it’s still on fire,” she whispered, her hand seemingly moving towards Sinya’s of its own accord.

“Don’t,” Tech said suddenly.

Runi tensed, Sinya’s hand falling to the table with a dull thud, alerting both Fives and Echo, who jumped to their feet.

“Echo,” Tech hissed. “Her hand.”

Echo’s heart was pounding as he stepped forward to look at it.

“Do you see it?” Tech asked, his voice seemed different.

Nervous, Echo realized with a start. He looked at Sinya’s wrist, his heart jumping into his throat.

Faintly, around the edges of the worst part of the burns was a wisping red smoke.

“Jaine?” Echo breathed.

Tech nodded solemnly. “If Sinya was attacked by Jaine and ran until she bumped into Hunter and Wrecker-”

“She could be on Ord Mantell.”

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Thanks for reading! - River

Jari'eyc Masterlist DangRaccoon Masterlist Taglist Form Read on AO3

Tags: @lokigirlszendaya @serenityselene @nomercyforthewarrior @ravenclawbitch426 @luna-the-lone-red-wolf @techs-goggles9902

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sasaranomiya · 1 year

Text

Koukyuu no Karasu Volume 3 Chapter 1 - A Rainy Night’s Visit (Part 1)

I’m back guys~~! This is the volume where a bunch of new characters are introduced and we start the overarching plot of the series.

Translation Notes

1. Banka is written with the characters 晚霞 which means “evening glow,” while Chouyou’s name is written with the characters 朝陽 which means “morning sun.”

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At the deep, deep bottom of the sea, stretched out in the silence of the night, I am always waiting.

In the dead of night, Ishiha woke up. He quietly rose from his bed so as to not make any sound. He felt like he just had a bad dream. It was because his throat was dry. The rain he had been hearing before he fell asleep had already stopped, but the damp scent of rain that was characteristic of the end of a shower drifted in the air.

――It’s different from the scent of the sea.

It was different from the smell of the tide, mixed in with that somewhat fishy smell, that clung to his skin. Ishiha hugged his knees on his bed. He hated waking up in the middle of the night. That was when he was the loneliest and the saddest. Memories of his hometown and of the time when he was made into a eunuch swirled around in his head, making his chest squeeze tight. He was having trouble breathing and he pressed his forehead against his knees. He choked back a sob.

“…You can’t sleep?”

He heard Onkei’s voice in the darkness. He felt him getting up in the bed next to his. Ishiha shared a room in Yamei Palace with his senior, Onkei. He hastily apologized.

“I’m sorry, I woke you up.”

It was dark, so his tear-stained face couldn’t be seen, but he sounded nasal. He could feel Onkei staring at him. Onkei slipped off his bed and left the room. Just as Ishiha was panicking, wondering if he had irritated him, Onkei immediately returned.

He was holding up a candlestick. His face emerged from the darkness with the flickering flames of the candle.

“Here.”

Onkei held out a cup. It was filled with water. He seemed to have drawn it from the water jug in the kitchen. “You must be thirsty.”

“Y…yes. Thank you very much.”

Ishiha drank the water, wondering how did he know. His parched throat now quenched, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Everyone has nightmares for a while after they become a eunuch.”

That was all Onkei said in his quiet voice. He was a beautiful man, but there was an unapproachable coldness in his appearance that made Ishiha too nervous to approach him. However, the gentle smile that sometimes appeared on his lips told him that he was a warm person at heart.

“Mr. Onkei, was it like that for you as well?”

There was no answer to that question. Onkei blew out the candle and darkness returned to the room. The faint wisp of smoke from the blown-out flame faded quickly. The smell of smoke and water mingled together. There was the sound of Onkei crawling into his bed, and Ishiha laid down as well. The water that soothed his throat slowly seeped into his chest and loosened his stiffened heart. His eyelids naturally drooped, and he was lulled to sleep as though rocked by the waves. In the waves, the image of his hometown floated and disappeared. His parents, the village elders. The fireside on stormy days, the sound of the wind beating at the window, and the starry sky after the storm had passed, like silver sand scattered across the sky. The elders’ tales. The islands born from the chopped-up god. The lost souls blown into the cove. The one or two new lives raining down from the river of stars. He wondered if the baby born next door was growing up healthy. He wondered how his siblings were doing. How was his childhood friend, Ayura, doing——

It seemed that the rain had stopped. Jusetsu turned her attention to the latticed window. Late at night, beyond the lattice, all she could see was a deep indigo darkness. Water was seeping into the darkness. When the rainy season began, there would be large downpours of rain all at once, but they didn’t last long. After the rain, the soil, greenery, and even the darkness became fresh, as if they had come back to life. The scent of life was strong. Jusetsu didn’t care for this time of the year. No, it might be Wulian Niangniang who didn’t like it. She didn’t know. Jusetsu looked at the table. What she had been looking at until then was placed there. It was a necklace of two strands of black pearls. A delicate rainbow pattern played on the jet-black surface in the light.

These black pearls were the feathers left behind by the “Owl.” The remains of what was once Shougetsu, who was created by the Owl. Shougetsu had turned into feathers and disappeared, but Jusetsu had gathered those feathers and stuffed them into a hemp sack. They turned into black pearls overnight. She asked the Directorate for Imperial Manufactories to string them into a necklace.

We were born from sea foam—that was what the Owl had said. Was that why his feathers turned into pearls? Jusetsu let out a sigh, placed the pearls in a mother-of-pearl box, and put it in the cupboard. It wasn’t as though she would know the answer just by staring at it.

Jusetsu no longer knew who she was. Was she the Raven, was she “Jusetsu,” or was she a mixture of both? The Raven came here from the distant Kakurenomiya. This was the taboo island where gods who committed crimes drifted to. The Raven was trapped in Jusetsu so that she couldn’t escape. Just as the Owl made the doll called Shougetsu, Jusetsu was a vessel for confining the Raven. If she was shattered, would her body turn into feathers and become pearls as well?

Jusetsu let out a small laugh. At night, when she had her attendant Jiujiu retire for the night and was left alone, an unbearable emptiness began to take root in her chest. Loneliness could be endured. However, emptiness ate into her heart little by little. Right now, she wasn’t being swallowed up by it because Jiujiu and the others were here with her. Even if she was disobeying Reijou’s words in the process.

Xingxing, who had rested its wings at Jusetsu’s feet, raised its head. Jusetsu looked back at the door. Xingxing spread its wings and made a fuss. Jusetsu gently flicked her hand and opened the doors. It was a visitor who had come to ask for a favor from the Raven Consort.

Now, she could understand painfully why the Raven Consorts had accepted the requests of the people of the inner palace until now. They wanted to be connected to people. As they weren’t even sure of their own minds, if they couldn’t rely on anyone, they would at least like to be useful to someone and have a connection with others, even if it was just a thin thread.

“L-Lady Raven Consort. I have a matter I wish for you to…”

Before she could speak, the doors opened, and the flustered palace lady falteringly said this.

“You may enter.”

Jusetsu sat down in a chair. The palace lady also sat across from her while looking around nervously. Judging from her appearance, she seemed to be an attendant of some palace. Her ruqun was of fine silk, and her sash was adorned with an ornament of white coral with a violet-colored decorative cord.

“I am the Crane Consort’s attendant at Hakkaku Palace. My family name is Ki, and my given name is Senjo.”

The attendant introduced herself. She was a thin woman with a slender and pale face. Her hands were tightly clasped together in front of her chest, and her body was trembling slightly.

“What is your business here?”

When Jusetsu asked her that, Senjo took a deep breath. Hesitant to speak, her gaze wandered, then she looked at Jusetsu with imploring eyes.

“A ghost has been visiting me.”

Senjo’s nails were digging into her clasped hands. She closed her eyes and repeatedly exhaled and inhaled, perhaps to calm herself. She touched the white coral hanging from her sash, and as she stroked it, her breathing finally evened, and she spoke again.

“…The ghost only comes on rainy nights. It comes to the door of my room. It doesn’t even knock on my door, much less come in. How do I know that a ghost is visiting me? I hear its footsteps. Footsteps walking in the rain. It walks steadily and stops in front of my door. When the rain stops, its presence disappears. There is a puddle in front of the door. It cannot be a person. A few times, I couldn’t help but peer through the lattice window. I see a black shadow there. But I can’t make out its appearance. It’s right there, but I can’t see it. Only its feet in long boots are visible. All that I can see other than that is water dripping from its clothing. No matter how hard I look, its face is indistinguishable, as if it’s covered in shadows.”

After speaking with a trembling voice, Senjo let out a deep breath. Her shoulders were heaving. While she was talking, even now, she was stroking the white coral frequently. It seemed that she couldn’t calm down unless she was fiddling with something. Jusetsu got the impression that she was high-strung, but that might be because she was haunted by a ghost. Her almond eyes, which would be charming otherwise, were red.

Jusetsu peered at her face, and then spoke.

“When did this begin happening?”

“It began on the first rainy night on my journey from my hometown to here.”

“It didn’t start after you came to Hakkaku Palace?”

“Yes. I have always been an attendant of the Saname clan—”

“Saname clan?”

“It is Lady Banka’s family. Do you not know it?”

“I know not. Who is Banka?”

Senjo’s eyes widened in surprise. Perhaps remembering that the Raven Consort was someone isolated from society, she cast down her eyes and said, “I beg your pardon.”

“The Saname clan is a wealthy family from Ga Province. They are a clan that migrated from the country of Kakami a long time ago, and they were once feudal lords who governed the whole of Ga Province, but now they have stepped away from government and are a powerful family with a large number of manors. Ga Province is a rich land, and the Saname clan is in no way inferior to that of a great merchant.”

Jusetsu recalled hearing that the Crane Consort’s family was wealthy when she visited Hakkaku Palace before.

“This Banka is the Crane Consort, yes?”

“That is correct, Lady Raven Consort.”

“Despite her family name sounding foreign, her given name is in the Shou-style.”

“Lady Banka’s name was given to her by His Majesty when she entered the inner palace. Since long ago, the Saname clan has never revealed their true names to others. Since the head of the Saname clan, Lady Banka’s father, calls himself Chouyou, His Majesty gave Lady Banka her name to match him.” (1)

“I see, afterglow, huh.”

It was a stylish name. That man could do something so elegant? Jusetsu thought of Koushun’s face, which always lacked expression.

“Master Chouyou was also very happy. And—um…”

Her face said, What were we talking about again?

“We were talking about when the ghost appeared. You said that it was after you left your hometown, and you have been an attendant of the Saname clan for a long time.”

“Yes, that was the case. So, nothing happened when I was with the Saname clan in Ga Province. When it was decided that Lady Banka was to be married to His Majesty, on the way from Ga Province to the capital, there was a night when it rained, and that was when it started. It happened when we were staying at an inn.”

Seeming to recall that time, Senjo trembled.

“Even after the rain stopped and the ghost disappeared, I couldn’t sleep for the whole night. Even now, when it starts to rain after dark, I’m out of my mind terrified. Tonight as well—”

“It was raining just now, was it not?”

Senjo nodded while trembling.

“After I confirmed the rain had stopped and the ghost had left, I couldn’t bear it any longer and came here. I have no other choice but to rely on you, Lady Raven Consort.”

“Do you wish for me to drive away the ghost?”

“Yes. Please fulfill my request. I will prepare compensation for you, so please—”

Jusetsu thought about it for a moment. A ghost that only appears on rainy nights—?

“…I’m quite curious.”

“Eh?”

“The fact that it doesn’t come through your door weighs on my mind. You say that it only stands there and does nothing?”

“Yes, but,” Senjo was about to protest, but Jusetsu held up her hand to stop her.

“On the other hand, I am also concerned about the fact that it is following you. It seems that it isn’t a ghost that has settled down in the inner palace.”

Senjo paled at the words “following you.”

“I wish to investigate where the ghost appears. Tomorrow, I shall visit your room. And then—”

Jusetsu stood up and brought over a piece of hemp paper from the cabinet.

“’Tis merely for peace of mind, but I’ll give you this amulet. It is for protection. It’s the type of thing that sorcerers walk around giving out, but weak ghosts will not come near you with this.”

Senjo gratefully accepted the amulet, which had strange characters written on it in ink.

“Do you not have any clue as to the identity of that ghost?”

At Jusetsu’s question, Senjo hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. “No.” She hugged the amulet against her chest and quickly left the pitch-black palace.

Jiujiu was always noisy in the morning. She talked incessantly while bringing in the water basin for washing her face or while getting breakfast ready. It was like the chirping of a little bird. She rambled on about things like how it wouldn’t rain today because winter wrens were flying high in the sky, or how it was good weather for laundry, or how the rice cakes in the kitchen had mold on them.

“In my hometown, they say that if the Fishing Star looks hazy, then it’s going to rain,” Ishiha said as he helped prepare breakfast.

“They don’t say that around here. We don’t have the custom of looking up at the night sky because they close the doors at night.”

Ishiha’s hometown was a small fishing village. For those who made their living by fishing, the stars were an important guidepost for finding directions.

“For us, it’s very important to know where the stars are and when they appear.”

“Then, your tribe isn’t afraid of the night, then? They say that Yeyoushen appears at night.”

“No, we’re afraid of Yeyoushen. That’s why we wear charms against our skin and don’t go fishing on starless nights. We’re afraid of monsters coming out of the waves and dragging our boats down to the bottom of the sea on dark nights.”

It was very interesting to hear about Ishiha’s hometown, which was very different from this area. Jusetsu had never actually seen the sea with her own eyes. The exception was through the eyes of the Raven who slipped out of the inner palace on nights of the new moon.

“The sea must be a terrifying thing.”

Jusetsu murmured as she scooped up her porridge with a spoon. Ishiha laughed brightly. His tanned skin wrinkled tightly.

“It’s scary, but it’s also warm. It’s like a cradle.”

“A cradle?”

“The waves. They come and go, like a very big cradle,” Ishiha gestured like he was rocking a cradle. “Besides, they tell us that you have to be afraid. Otherwise, people will underestimate the sea. We should be afraid of it.”

“Did your village elders tell you that?”

“Yes. They taught us a lot about the sea and the stars.”

Jusetsu supposed that it was similar to what Reijou was like to her. She blew on her scooped-up porridge to cool it. The congee with snow fungus and dried day lilies was so hot that it would burn her throat if she didn’t cool it down enough. It would be nice if they could serve it a little cooler, but the old servant Keishi would never allow it. She always said that food must be served when it was hot because it would quickly get colder and colder. She finally put the cooled porridge into her mouth. The crispy snow fungus was one of Jusetsu’s favorites. The pine nuts sprinkled on top of the porridge were fragrant and nourishing. In Keishi’s mind, Jusetsu would always remain a small, underfed child, and she still only prepared nourishing food for her.

“Niangniang, what are your plans for today?”

Jiujiu asked. Usually, her answer was “nothing in particular,” but today was different.

“I’m going to Hakkaku Palace.”

“Oh, you’re going out? It’s been a while,” Jiujiu suddenly sounded excited. “Then, this is a good opportunity for you to wear the clothing that was given to you by Hua Niangniang recently. The pale purple raw silk robe and peach-colored skirt…the crystal hairpin will do.”

She spoke like a full-fledged attendant. “I don’t need to dress up so excessively,” Jusetsu reminded her, but the exuberant Jiujiu wasn’t listening. Since she seemed to be in a good mood, Jusetsu thought, Oh well, and gave up. Jiujiu liked dressing up Jusetsu. According to her, it was boring how Jusetsu usually dressed in black.

As soon as she finished breakfast, she was made to change clothes. The colorful clothing was a gift from Hua Niangniang—the Duck Consort, Un Kajou. Kajou wanted to take care of Jusetsu as if she were her younger sister. She often had garments tailored and sent to her even though she said she didn’t want them, and Jusetsu, unable to ignore them, reluctantly accepted the gifts. Why did those around her never listened to her?

Jiujiu kept changing the sash and hairpins, taking on the task of changing her clothes until she was satisfied. Jusetsu simply stood there. She kept silent, because it would only prolong the process if she interfered. “Are we finished?” Jusetsu asked Jiujiu, satisfied with the pale red crystal hairpin and the dangling gold hairpins. “I believe so,” Jiujiu nodded with an air of importance. Kougyou, who was helping with Jusetsu’s change of clothes behind her, had her shoulders shaking with amusement.

Leaving the care of Xingxing to Ishiha, Jusetsu left Yamei Palace with Jiujiu. For some reason, the usually-difficult Xingxing had taken a liking to Ishiha and became attached to him. Xingxing—didn’t the Owl call it Harara? Could that be its real name? As Jusetsu passed through the woods surrounding Yamei Palace, she looked up at the treetops. With a cry of “gah,” a bird landed there. Brown wings with white spots. It was the spotted woodpecker. She thought that bird had also disappeared when Shougetsu scattered into feathers, but it was living in this forest.

――Didn’t he say that this bird is a tsukaibe?

Was that why it was staying here? Nothing could be gleaned from the eyes of the woodpecker—Sumaru.

They went through the woods and headed north of the inner palace. Onkei, who was Jusetsu’s bodyguard, was most likely watching over her from somewhere in the shadows. That was why she was walking without much caution. Within the inner palace, it was filled with trees, blooming flowers, waterways, and sturdy mud walls. The tiled roofs of the palaces looked like waves as they reflected the sunlight. Just as Jiujiu said, it didn’t look like it would rain today. Senjo must be relieved as well.

“What business do you have at Hakkaku Palace?”

Jiujiu asked as they walked down the alley between the mud walls.

“I received a request.”

“Ah, so a visitor did come last night. You slept until quite late this morning, so I wondered if that was the case,” Jiujiu pouted a little, like she was sulking. “That’s why I always asked you to let me stay up until much later.”

“One never knows when visitors like that will come. It is useless to stay up late for them. You and the others have to wake up early in the morning.”

“But…”

Jiujiu didn’t look happy. Jusetsu would lose if they continued this quarrel, so she changed the topic.

“Do you know the consort of Hakkaku Palace?”

“Was it the Crane Consort who visited last night? No, I’ve never met her.”

“It was the Crane Consort’s attendant. Even if you’ve never met her, do you know anything about her?”

Jiujiu tilted her head.

“I don’t really know much. Hakkaku Palace doesn’t have a very high rank within the inner palace, and it’s located on the outskirts. Rumors about it don’t reach this far. I believe she is a princess of Ga province. I heard that she is the youngest daughter of an old and powerful family, and that she is a generous person without the primness of a rich young lady.”

Jusetsu also heard that she was very generous in giving away fabrics and hairpins before. Senjo had also been wearing fine clothing.

“There’s talk that since the position of Magpie Consort is now empty, the Crane Consort or Swallow Mistress might be promoted. If anything, it seems more likely that the Swallow Mistress——”

“…”

Jusetsu still felt depressed when she thought about the Magpie Consort. The image of her blood splattering as her throat was bitten open flashed through her mind.

Jiujiu, who seemed to have sensed Jusetsu’s feelings, changed the subject in a panic.

“Oh, Niangniang. By the way, we have the peaches that His Majesty gifted us the other day. I’ll peel them for you when we return to Yamei Palace.”

“I can peel a peach by myself.”

“But your hands will get all sticky. Ishiha makes quite a mess of himself, getting the juices all over his face.”

“He is a child, so it can’t be helped.”

Jusetsu let out a soft laugh. Ishiha wasn’t accustomed to eating fruit, so he always made a big mess. It was quite adorable to see his mouth sticky with fruit juices.

A hedge of juniper trees came into view. It was Hakkaku Palace. There were crane ornaments on the roof tiles. Jusetsu went around to the back entrance. When she came here before, she also entered from there. Just as before, there were palace ladies drying clothes nearby. There was a palace lady who remembered Jusetsu and had a look of “Oh?” Jusetsu called out to her.

“There is an attendant I would like you to call for me.”

“Aren’t you an attendant of Yamei Palace?” She tilted her head in confusion. “But you aren’t dressed like an attendant today.”

It would be bothersome to explain, so Jusetsu didn’t answer her question. “Call an attendant named Ki Senjo here. She’ll understand if you say it’s someone from Yamei Palace.” However, before the palace lady could leave, there was the sound of running footsteps.

“Lady Raven Consort,” it was Senjo. “I’ve been waiting for you. I didn’t expect you to come from the back entrance.”

Apparently, she had been waiting for at the front gate. Looking between Senjo, who was out of breath, and Jusetsu, who was called the Raven Consort, the palace lady’s eyes widened. The palace ladies drying the clothes at the back were whispering to each other about something. There was awe in their eyes. It was the fear directed towards the Raven Consort, who lived quietly in a jet-black palace, darker than the darkness of night, deep within the inner palace, and took on any request from searching for lost things to curse killings. Jusetsu glanced at one of them, sensing something different in her gaze. Standing a short distance away, a palace lady was staring at Jusetsu. There was no fear in her eyes. That said, she didn’t know how to describe it. It was neither friendly nor hateful. It was, dare she say it, something like earnestness. Did she have a request for the Raven Consort?

“Lady Raven Consort, please come this way.”

Led by Senjo, they headed for the palace. They were guided to a palace next to the consort’s residence in the center. It was the residence of many attendants. Across the courtyard was the building used by the emperor when he visited. Double-layered gardenias were blooming in the courtyard. The white flowers were as vivid and distinct as summer clouds, and their fragrance was strong. Their whiteness and scent would be recognizable even in the middle of the night.

“Apparently, peonies used to be planted here,” Senjo explained after following Jusetsu’s gaze. “I heard that His Majesty ordered the garden to be reconstructed. He must be pained by the memory of his mother.”

Koushun’s mother was the previous emperor’s Crane Consort. “I see,” was all Jusetsu said, and she looked away from the garden.

Senjo’s room was in a corner of the palace. It had a door and lattice window facing the outer corridor. When Jusetsu entered the room she saw that there was also a door and window at the back, and guessed that the ghost came from that side. She tried opening that door and going outside. The back was poorly lit, shadowed and cool. It was even darker because of the trees planted there. Beneath the shade of the leaves, Jusetsu stared closely at the ground. This was where the ghost was standing.

―There is certainly indications here.

The faint remaining presence of a ghost.

――But, this is…

“How is everything, Lady Raven Consort?”

Senjo timidly asked from inside the room. Jusetsu turned around.

“There is no doubt that there is a ghost coming here.”

Senjo paled and pressed her hand to her chest. Jusetsu took a step back and pulled out a peony from her hair. She blew on it. The flower instantly turned into smoke and spread like a thin curtain as it wavered. Soon, the figure of a person began to appear beyond the smoke. It was indistinct at first, but gradually became clear. Its contours took distinct form, and vacant eyes and slightly opened lips emerged. Bloodless, pale lips. The ashen face belonged to a man in his twenties with a dishevelled topknot. Loose strands of hair fell over his forehead, and there was no light in his sunken eye sockets. There was the sound of water dripping. A puddle was created at his feet. No, it wasn’t water. It was red. Something red was dripping from the hem of the man’s robes. It was blood. His body was slashed from the base of his neck to his chest. Fresh blood poured down from his neck unceasingly. His blood stained his clothes and dripped onto the ground.

Senjo collapsed onto the floor with a sharp, shrill scream. Jusetsu blew on the smoke and the man disappeared. She rushed over to Senjo and was relieved to find that she hadn’t fainted. She and Jiujiu helped her to a couch.

“That was Saku Hashuu.”

Senjo said with a pale face. Her voice was trembling and shrill. Her breathing was erratic, so Jusetsu rubbed her back to encourage her to take deep breaths. After taking two or three deep breaths, Senjo’s complexion improved considerably. She squeezed the white coral hanging from her sash.

“…That ghost just now was named Saku Hashuu.”

Senjo said after drinking some water brought by a palace lady and calming down. Her voice was still trembling.

“Was he an acquaintance?”

“Hashuu was my fiancé. We lived in the same neighborhood, and we had been friends since childhood…even though it was called a betrothal, it wasn’t so formal that we didn’t even know each other’s faces until the bride’s veil is lifted at the ceremony, but rather a relationship where we knew each other well,” Senjo spoke softly, sometimes at a loss for words. “In our region, we have a tradition of paying a visit to the shrine of the local god before getting married. Three years ago, we went to visit the shrine. I was accompanied by my mother and a servant, and Hashuu was accompanied by his parents and a servant. It takes two full days to get to the shrine on the mountain and back, so it was a bit of a sightseeing trip. Pilgrims would dismount from their horses at the foot of the mountain, and from there they either ascend on foot or by palanquin. Hashuu was a good walker, but everyone else were women or elderly, so we had to go by palanquin. That was a mistake.”

Senjo sighed with deep regret.

“Starting from the first palanquin, Hashuu’s parents, my mother, and I rode in that order, and the servants followed Hashuu’s parents and my mother on foot. Hashuu accompanied my palanquin on foot, and since it was a mountain road, the palanquin bearers walked slowly and without haste. We proceeded without issue in this way for a while, but then it began to rain. The rain was getting heavier and heavier, and I could no longer see the palanquin in front of me, but it seemed that only the palanquin I was riding in was falling farther and farther behind. Hashuu became suspicious and urged the bearers to go faster, but the two bearers only gave vague replies and made little progress. I had heard that some bearers were miscreants who would threaten customers with exorbitant prices or even mug them, I had never imagined that I myself would cross paths with such wicked bearers. When we were picking bearers, we picked young men who looked as simple and honest as possible. They decided that it would be easier for them to attack me and Hashuu, who were unaccompanied by escorts. In the rain, they finally bared their fangs. They abandoned the palanquin and pointed knives at us, demanding money and goods. If that was all, Hashuu might have obeyed them for the time being. But they were also trying to kidnap me. Because of that, he——”

Resisted.

“Hashuu held the bearers back and told me to run. He told me to follow my mother’s palanquin and ask for help, and he wouldn’t be far behind. I ran. I fell many times because my feet got stuck in the wet ground. I had never hated the rain so much as I did during that time. By the time I returned after calling for help, Hashuu was already…”

Senjo couldn’t get the words out. She took a breath and then said in a hoarse voice, he was already dead.

The bearers had fled the scene, but they were soon caught by the police. Since they mugged and murdered someone, they were of course sentenced to death. They had already been executed.

“…If Hashuu hadn’t let me escape during that time, I don’t know what would have happened to me. I can’t believe that he…didn’t cross over to paradise and wanders around as a ghost…”

Senjo covered her face with her sleeve. However, it wasn’t unusual that he would become a ghost if he was killed. Jusetsu wondered if Senjo had vaguely foreseen this. Last night, when she asked Senjo if she knew anything about the ghost, she had hesitated in her answer. She probably didn’t want to consider it, her betrothed becoming a ghost.

But, that ghost…

Jusetsu turned to the door again and looked outside.

“The ghost didn’t appear when you were still in your hometown, yes? Also, he doesn’t come in through the door.”

Senjo turned around. “Yes,” she answered and nodded.

“One thing is certain,” Jusetsu pointed at the door. “That ghost is what we call a tsukaibe.”

Senjo tilted her head. “A tsukaibe…?”

“Someone has set him to work and sent him to you. To put it simply, he’s being used as a tool. As a tool of a curse.”

Senjo’s eyes widened. “A…a curse?”

“The traces of sorcery are immediately recognizable. But I know not the curser or their goal. There’s no meaning in a sluggish curse where the ghost is simply standing outside a room only on rainy nights without haunting its target to death. I don’t understand their intentions.”

Jusetsu frowned.

At this stage, I can only think that they simply want to scare Senjo.

“Returning a curse is easy. However, it’s not wise to return a curse without a clear idea of the other side’s intentions. This level of curse will not kill the curser even you return it. Rather, by returning it, they might even cast a new curse on you. Do you have any idea who is likely to curse you?”

Senjo shook her head vigorously.

“Then, I’ll have to investigate a little more now.”

“Investigate…what do you mean by that?”

“The people around you.”

“Haa…” Senjo looked worried. “Are you saying that someone I know has cast this curse on me?”

“A curse wouldn’t be put on you if the person had nothing to do with you. In fact, it would be easier to find you if they did.”

Senjo ducked her head and looked around.

“What…what should I do?”

“Think carefully about whether there is any reason someone would cast a curse on you, or anyone around you who can cast curses.”

“Yes…” Senjo nodded nervously.

“For now, I’ll put a ward around your room. It seems that the ghost doesn’t enter your room for now, but this is just in case he tries to enter.”

Okay, Senjo pressed her hands to her chest, looking a little relieved. Jusetsu took out a shaft with thread wound around it from her pocket. She unwound the thread and circled the room with it, from corner to corner.

“…This technique was originally used by sorcerers. My arts aren’t suited for delicate work.”

Jusetsu muttered as she unspooled the thread across the floor. The principle was the same as the barrier that was previously used on the Jakusou Palace pond. The arts of sorcerers and the Raven Consort were similar yet different, different yet similar. Were they originally the same, or were they completely different—?

Jusetsu tied the ends of the thread in front of the door.

“This will do,” she said and stood up. Senjo thanked her profusely. “This is not a fundamental solution, though.”

“No,” Senjo shook her head at Jusetsu, who was bewildered by her gratitude. “I can sleep peacefully knowing that no one will come in.”

“…I see.”

Jusetsu studied her pale face.

What good would it do to curse such a frail, powerless woman?

She couldn’t figure out the curser’s goal. Curses were more or less magic that placed a burden on oneself. If it was returned to you, it could kill you, depending on the degree of the curse, and the greater the power of the returner, the greater the danger. It wasn’t something with much benefit.

Is the curser a sorcerer who’s this confident that the curse can’t be broken?

However, if that was the case, she didn’t understand the point of aiming for a mere attendant like Senjo. It would be different if it was someone with status like Koushun.

The more Jusetsu pondered it, the deeper the wrinkles between her brow became.

I sense something troublesome.

These kinds of hunches were usually right.

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#koukyuu no karasu #koukyuu no karasu 3 #shirakawa kouko #translations

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moonlit-trolls · 1 year

Text

Ain't a Pretty Job

[Introduction to Don! Newest guy in the roster]

[Docs for your soul]

— You’re Costing me Business. —

The man behind the counter spoke. Metal left arm, made for fleetwork. Repurposed.

— Costing you business? I’m keeping this shithole afloat ritz. I’m the fuckin’ reason you buy whiskey every week. Cuz I go through the six bottles you buy and I take half of the one you keep for yourself. —

Donnie’s Voice came out more aggressive than it should. Ritz is nicer than anyone’s been to the man. But Ritz is right. In the middle of the night while everyone’s working donnie is here drinking. When people are spending time with their quadrants, he’s here drinking. Come to think he might be Ritz's closest friend… If only.

— I’m tellin’ you donnie if you don’t fucking stop scaring the customers with that spittin blood at every third drink crap i’ll have to kick you out. —

Ritz spoke again. slamming his metal fist on the counter, whiskey spilled down to the ground.

— Aw C’mon You love me, if you didn’t you’d have me gone a long time ago —

Donnie spoke, getting up from his seat, and putting a handful of crumpled bills on the counter. Walking out that door

And out that door he did walk. you might think night is time to do things, get busy. but that man has never been freer. Now that he fucking dropped his job, ain’t nothing stopping Donnie.

Two pills, flask to wash down, as the man stared into the end of the road, The lights seemed welcoming, they're just rushing cars ready to drop him. Maybe another bank got robbed, maybe another fuchsia killed but that’s not his problem any longer. hasn’t been for two and half sweeps. Leaving the fucking bacon behind was his best decision and he’d tell that himself.

But. Peace doesn’t go for long not when the fucking pigsty’s after a man. and the sirens sound like they’re coming for him. Faster steps, but they aren’t helping him. He's good but he’s not faster than a car type of good. Now his brain is running. shoot the tire? That'll piss them off. Shoot the driver? they’ll just pull the emergency brakes. and before he even makes a choice. The car stops beside him, running is useless; they'll just shoot him down if he makes a move.

— Heeeeeey fellas — Hands up, breath shaky — Didn’t know you patrolled here by these times —

A teal leaves the vehicle, baton in hand — Don. Don don don… C’mon Donnie you know we can’t play this game forever, You run, we find you. — The voice got lost in murmurs — Won’t you make this easier? one last job. — The teal wore a shit eating grin like it was a pinstripe suit — We can just cull you right here if that’s too much trouble too Don. —

Four guys. Car, Probably half full tank? He can take them. dying would just be the consolation prize.

— C’mon guys we don’t gotta fight like this! just let me go and i’ll never be trouble — Donnie’s voice was shaky, dying was consolation prize but he was going for first fucking place.

— No can do Don. You’re a dead man walking. waltzing around with god knows how many names inside your little brain that could put down the entire precinct. So No we’re not letting you go — the teal nodded as he spoke — one last job that’s all you need —

— Well you said that last time you blue dumbfuck — Donnie says dropping his hands down as the teal pulled a gun out

— C’mon Donnie hands back up, don’t want to shoot out your other kneecap —

Time felt halted as Don shoulder bashed the teal into the car. gun went off hitting the wall behind him on the sidewalk. as the cop spat blood on the floor. and fell down. The other three in the car came out. Indigo, Olive and Rust. Guns in hands shouting.

Don hid behind the car door, two shots fired one hit the wall the other grazed his shoulder.

Donnie bit his tongue. blood pooling in there he showed his face on the window opening and spat at the olive’s face. Two shots, from him, both miss. hitting the ground kicking up dust, at this point the streets have already been emptied out. no one wants to be the one to witness four men killing one. but maybe that’s not what will happen.

As the olive started to wipe the blood clean from his face don jumped him. using him as a shield, Four more shots. two on the olive’s chest, one on his leg. Olive is down for the count, two to go.

— Cities Finest? Cities better off with crime runnin’ wild — Don says kicking the body forward. it fell down with a Horrible sound. as he jumped forward to the rust blood.

punch in the nose. blood dripping down the fracture, the rust put his hands on his nose to stop it but, no use was it. Don took the gun and two shots was all it took. The indigo was shaken by the situation, sweat dripping down his face, eyes wide like two dinner plates, and the man ran into a building to never be seen again.

The Teal stood up — Good job Don. But your lucky streak ends here you fucking piece of trash — Aiming a gun down at donnie’s face.

— Pick a god and pray. fish. — and he pulled the trigger to the worst noise possible: click The gun jammed.

— Now, I'm not gonna start wearing red on the new sweep. Or throwing dice at the casinos. But I am. going to do something better — don smiled taking off his gloves

— I’m gonna give you a fucking can of Whoopass — Don throws the teal on the ground. breaking his knuckles on that man’s face.

blood drips from his fists, spitting purples and two more police cars waltz in. amazing how bad nights can get worse, all you need now is a fucking morning to burn you into fried fish.

— Good Job big guy — Don hears the heavy steps followed by a third bump in the ground. The chief — But there’s nowhere to run now. Surrounded. Bleeding, you spent more than you had on your account on these low line fucks and now you’re ripe for the taking. And taking we are —

— C’mon old man. I’m past my prime. Why'd you want an old violet ex copper — his voice filled with more contempt than fear. — And either way i’m more of a liability, why would you want me back? —

And that, made the chief smile ear to ear, sharp yellowed teeth from smoking a pack a day for the last twenty sweeps.

— Oh You know why don. You’re the only one with the guts to walk into a jade cave. And kill trolls who didn’t do a thing wrong. You did it before. Why wouldn’t you do it again? — his voice sounded like a whisper in the last part. and before he finished speaking. Donnie was already stealing the officer’s clothing to put on, the gun and the badge he never delivered to the pigs. Maybe that’s why they’re tracking him.

And The chief did not lie. Hours later, far too close to morning for donnie to enjoy. popping tylenols for every speed bump the car went over, and every other bump as well, washing down with the flask. until the chief spoke.

— Now don. You’re going in with a team Swat type deal. Go in, kill every single fucking jade in sight. Drop the mother grub. and leave. They’re not culling mutants, and they’re not paying their protection dues to us. Which means. we knock them down and then you can go on your merry fucking way —

Donnie remained silent staring out the window, sun’ll be up in four to five hours. That leaves about three to finish the job and one to find shelter until the night.

— Cuz this Ain’t About To be pretty Donnie. — the chief spoke, his grin reflecting on the rear view mirror, as the vehicle came to a halt. in front of a forested cavern. no one could know it was there unless they were looking for it.

— That’s where you’re going Donnie. Have fun. Team’s lagging behind — the chief waved as Don walked into the cave.

[ Six Days Later, News Broadcast]

— And it is with heavy hearts that we announce the official report of the cave near the forest. Six Swat members died, No jades were found in the cave. And neither was a mother grub. The menaces that they are remain running free. Here we have the Chief of the Department to give a few words.---

The news anchor said. not a glimpse of truth behind her voice but they don’t pay her to speak the truth they just pay her to speak.

— Yes. little ray of moonlight. Yes they are still running wild. If you do not remember. It is the weak link that breaks the chain. And we all know that mutants are the weak link. But helping the weaklings are a gang of jades. and a violet blood — A photo of Donnie appear on screen

— No one knows his name, Everyone just calls him Don or Donnie. Alert the closest fleet official if you see this man. He is a menace. He has allowed sixteen unidentified jades to run free. alongside at least two dozen grubs. — and the feed’s cut off as don turns the TV off. arm in a splint and two dozen stitches scattered. With a jade taking care of him.

at least he’s free now. Isn’t he?

#long post #My writing #this was fun to do!

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