#remember when I did this every day and breath support/air flow came naturally? remember???

[musical-chick-13]

They should invent a Way of Singing Healthily that doesn't Require Warming Up.

#I HATE VOCALIZATIONS I /HATE/ THEM #UGH #(good news is that said vocalizations allowed me to record some stuff I just have to listen to them to see if anything is usable) #mc13's complicated relationship with art #remember when I did this every day and breath support/air flow came naturally? remember??? #REMEMBER WHEN I KNEW ABOUT FORMANTS #lmao #OH ALSO REMEMBER WHEN I HAD A WORKING FUCKING CAMCORDER AND DIDN'T HAVE TO RECORD ON MY PHONE #singing

[watevermelon]

✧ Soulmate!Sakusa x Reader; You are Karasuno’s manager and, unfortunately for the both of you, very popular among those in your year.

➳  A/N: This is so fluffy and nothing like how I usually write, but it was fun!! Thanks for the ask!! (: <3

✧  Masterlist

----xXxXxXxXxXx-----

There was a strange pull to volleyball that you could not fully explain, just that you were always associated somehow with the sport. In middle school, you were the manager of Kitagawa Daiichi and tended to hang around the loud duo of Oikawa and Iwaizumi. And eventually, when you chose going to Karasuno, it was no surprise that Kiyoki had roped you into becoming a manager again.

You were the last of your year to meet your soulmate - many of your friends having met their’s already. 

Kageyama did not recount it often, but Hinata made up for it on a near daily basis. The short player described the event vividly, remembering how the setter’s intimidating face was almost enough for Hinata not to realize that suddenly his world was much more colorful.

Yamaguchi described his encounter like a breath of fresh air, a sudden rush of adrenaline that came with each and every color of the world. The sky was blue, the grass was green, and the seeing members of the team often joked that Hinata looked like a bright orange fruit.

You didn’t even know what orange looked like.

Soulmates were an interesting concept in that some people may live their whole lives never meeting them, wallowing in the black-and-white hues that they were born with. Some give up, disheartened over trying for so long to no avail. Your teammates were especially lucky to have met their soulmates, even more so to have met them at a young age.

Many of the members of the student body either didn’t care for this soulmate business or cared too much about it. Some were hunting almost constantly for any sign, while some expected the fact that they were going to have to travel far eventually when they were adults.

You tried not to think about it at all.

It was cute, hearing the stories of reunions and having someone who nearly completed you. But it was hard to imagine someone who was meant to be with you.

As much as you hated to admit it, you were quite popular among many in underclassmen. You were one of the infamous Oikawa Toru’s close friends and had the looks to rival his own. Many people had complimented the two of you in the past, asking if you were soulmates and saying that you would make a good couple based on looks alone.

It annoyed you how much fair skin and flowing locks were enough to blind people to who you really were. Your friendliness often got misconstrued for something else, many of these dumb boys digging for more than just the amicable smiles you were giving.

Tsukishima said the simplest solution was to shave your head, to which you almost killed him. And Yamaguchi said it was only natural since you were very pretty. Tanaka joked that the power of two beautiful managers would win them nationals alone.

And so, almost on a daily basis, you were rejecting boys' confession left and right. From the notes hidden in your locker, to the ones passed to you during class, to those who were brave enough to wait for you outside of the gymnasium - you rejected them all with careful smiles.

But that small amount that you gave, they reached for it hard.

Give an inch and they’ll take a mile.

Many hadn’t been deterred in the least, eager to try to make you fall in love with them despite having said you were not interested. It annoyed you to no end, being surrounded by flowery language and people who wanted to get close to you, but not for who you actually were. It was all looks and appearances, nothing more.

And you hated it.

There were times that you wondered if you should just take the lid off. 

Why stay cool and composed over people who hardly cared about how you felt?

Didn’t you just want to go batshit crazy one day?

Thankfully, your volleyball boys were also a big help in warding away others. Tanaka and Nishinoya were quite the pair in keeping people away from you during practice games, even when it wasn’t necessary.

((You remembered they first time seeing Akaashi’s cute face and begging to whatever volleyball god’s were out there that he was your soulmate. It was only a little disappointing to hear that he already had one. But seeing how cute the setter and Bokuto were, you figured they truly were meant to be.))

Tsukishima was a silent help, even if he did not admit it. His quick wit and salty words were more than enough to keep others at bay when he was around. Hinata, bless the poor boy, was much denser than you and often didn’t realize flirting until Kageyama had his tongue down his throat.

Karasuno was progressing all the way to Spring Nationals and you could not have been more proud of your boys. The team was built like pillars on-top of pillars, teamwork and hardened skill having sharpened all of them over the past year.

The first day of nationals, the team was mingling in the lobby among all the others that had progressed this far. It was almost intimidating, being surrounded by some of the strongest volleyball players your age in the entire country.

And, unfortunately, you weren’t free from leering eyes then.

Kageyama branched from the group to greet some of the friends he made during the training camp and Tanaka was off having a spiritual moment. You were scanning the room until suddenly you were just standing there alone.

It was the perfect opportunity to pounce and there was someone within your immediate personal space already asking for your name. You smiled at the sudden attention of one, two more people, attempting to back away before the group got any larger. Excusing yourself from them, you headed toward the wall to try to distance yourself and get your bearings.

Someone was already there, huddled in on himself in the corner and basically telling everyone to stay away. He had a mask covering most of his face and his hands were tucked in his zipped jacket, basically staying away from touching a single thing around him.

The moment you made eye-contact, it was almost like a flash of light.

You were looking at a bright mix of yellow and green, contrasted by his pale skin and pitch-black hair. It seemed he was just as surprised, bright eyes widened comically as he stared back at you.

It was more than just the school uniform - there was color everywhere.

From the tan of the walls to the gray tiles on the ground, you scanned the room and saw the different assortment of schools like you had never seen before. Bouncing around was a tuft of orange, Hinata eager to talk to members of other schools as he bounded around the room.

Orange.

You turned back to the reclusive young man and you realized the startling new fact.

Sakusa Kiyoomi was your soulmate.

One of the best spikers in the entire country and resident in Tokyo, hours from where you grew up, was your soulmate.

You knew all about him from the volleyball spreads to the front covers. Among the hundreds of other kids here, he was one of the top picks to watch in the entire nationals. Itachiyama was even one of the top seeds to win it all. It was crazy to think that he, this already highly decorated teen, was your destined other half.

If not for volleyball, would you have ever met?

“What’s your name?” His voice was barely above the crowd and you took a step closer to hear him proper.

You introduced yourself and thought about offering a hand for him to shake, just to realize that the germaphobe would probably never take it. And so, without a word, you rubbed a bit from your hand-sanitizer and then offered the appendage to him.

There was a hint of smirk behind the mask before he took it, muttering your name low on his lips.

He reached into one of his pockets and took out his phone, wordlessly waving it in the air for you to exchange chat ID’s. You recited the numbers back to him, adding each other to keep in contact. And while you both surely had questions, there were only a few minutes until the starting ceremonies.

“Karasuno?” He recounted, “Kageyama Tobio goes to your school.”

You wanted to groan, unsure what the setter’s reputation was like on the high-school level. You would defend your blueberry friend against his king of the court days, but with your soulmate, was that weird?

“Yes, we’re in the same year.”

“Ah.” Sakusa replied simply, his eyes still wordlessly on you.

Was he expecting a response?

“Your eyes are blue.” He commented bluntly, “They look different, nice.”

“Thanks?” You chuckled and responded lamely, “I don’t even know what blue means.”

You saw a small smile form beneath the mask, a crinkle in the corner of his eye. “I’ll show you, one day.”

“I look forward to it.”

There was something about his voice, low and throaty that had you desperately wanting to hear more for it. And while you enjoyed your little moment, there were a few alarms and shouts from the administration, it was time to line-up soon. You bowed curtly in thanks and turned to leave, waving at him as you left.

It was sort of… not what you had imagined?

Not that you were truly expecting anything. You were both still teens and at a competition, it was not like you were hoping to jump into your soulmate’s arms and get married into the sunset right away. But Sakusa was so curt, so blunt. So different from what you were used to.

It was refreshing.

Kiyoko took up the task of fetching Hinata’s shoes and, for once, you were the manager sitting alongside the coach courtside. You felt the reassurance and support from Karasuno’s cheering section, many familiar faces from your Shiratorizawa match. But, along with it, you felt the strange outpoor of pressure at having eyes on you.

More than once you were scanning the crowds to see people avert their eyes, caught in the act. How did the volleyball players deal with this? Each movement they had - receives, spikes, serves - it was heavily scrutinized by every person in the audience. Even more so on this level of competition, with commentators for live TV observing each match.

You saw some of your competition floating around, many sporting pensive looks and even notebooks as they observed Karasuno. Slapping your cheeks lightly, you steadied yourself to focus as you took your own notes on the team. Every successful jump server from Asahi, every spike from the other team’s ace, you had it all down.

And you were on the court, near jumping for joy with the rest, when Karasuno locked itself in as victorious in the first round.

Sakusa approached you after you were all done packing up, most of your team surprised at seeing the strong ace approach you so casually. Kageyama was the only one that was even his acquaintance, but he waved off an informal greeting as well.

You could tell immediately that he was not comfortable, tending to stick to himself normally. And yet here Sakusa was, approaching you when it was not expected of him at all.

“Congrats to your team.” He stated in a low voice.

“Thanks.” You said with a smile, watching as his eyes dropped to your shoulders then back up to your face. “Something wrong?”

He pursued his lips silently before moving to take off his outer jacket, “Here. Wear this during tomorrow’s game.”

Tomorrow's game with Inarizaki? You mentally wondered.

You didn’t question it, taking the jacket with a small grin and folding it in your hands. You still had your Karasuno jacket on and didn’t want to fumble around while the gorgeous ace was watching.

Of course, your team hadn’t caught on either.

“OH?!” Tanaka was immediately on the offensive, “And what claim do you have here city boy?”

You raised your palms to calm him down, an enraged Nishinoya not far behind him. Suga sighed in the corner, moving to grab them by the backs of their collars before they tried to throw hands with a nationally ranked spiker.

Before you could say anything, Sakusa explained with a flat face. “She’s my soulmate. Is it wrong for me to try to get closer to her?”

The reaction was immediate. You heard the, waaah!, from where Hinata was standing the sudden, excited gasp from Yamaguchi.

“Wow! Lucky you, (L/N)-chan.” Suga stated, a smile on his face as he regarded the both of you.

“When did this happen?” Daichi inquired after offering you both smiles.

“Before, when I got lost during the opening ceremony.”

“And you didn’t say anything!” Hinata exclaimed more than questioned.

“I didn’t want to distract you from the game.” You stated back, shrugging lightly.

Sakusa cleared his throat and you turned back to him, “I have to meet back with my team.”

“Okay, safe travels.” You said, earning a nod as he left.

“Wow, he’s so… different from you!” Hinata observed, trying not to be rude.

“He’s… nice to you.” Kagayama commented also, his head tilted and his eyebrows furrowed as if he was trying to find a better word to describe it. 

“That seemed pretty normal though?” Yamaguchi asked.

Kageyama immediately countered, “No, his normal is not like that.”

“He’s cute.” You responded lamely, thinking about his dark hair and matching eyes. 

He was quiet, but not to the point where you felt like he was purposefully closing you off. It was more like, if he had nothing to say, then he would not find the need to ramble on. Blunt with a purpose - which you honestly liked.

Meanwhile, Sakusa was hoping you took his words to heart and wore the jacket the entire next day. He had thought about his soulmate once or twice before, but never really dwelled on it since he had more important things to worry about. A soulmate was something he could not physically complete on his own, and while he hated leaving the issue half-assed, it is what it is.

But now that he knew who you were? 

Sakusa wanted to know you whole.

There was no denying it right at the onset - you were beautiful. If there were any other words - immaculate? Stunning? Absolutely show-stopping?

He had no expectations and yet here you were blowing them all out of the park, your beautiful looks only enhanced by how observant and friendly you had been at the onset.

It annoyed him that he was not the only one to have noticed this, many leering eyes following you as you went. Even more so when you were on the bench in the main stadium, many people in the stands around him remarked that Karasuno’s manager was insanely attractive.

No matter, you were his soulmate.

It only get worse when the rice-field asshole showed his face, Atsumu greeting Sakusa with the usual, Omi-Omi.

It seemed they were both interested in watching Kageyama play with his team. He was good during the training camp, but another thing entirely with the small spiker that completely their freak-duo.

But of fucking course Atsumu had to make a comment about you.

“And suddenly I’m lookin’ forward to playin’ them tomorrow.” The setter stated, eyes shooting to where you were sitting.

Sakusa had half the mind to put him in his place, but it would do no good. After all, the setter was an idiot, but actually liked to get on his nerves sometimes.

And so wearing his jacket should be more than enough to stake his claim.

Sakusa had a game the next day, but the bright hues of his yellow-green school colors were easy to pick out in the crowd. You were wearing it just like he asked, the jacket looking much too big on you.

But it was the smile on your face as you cheered on your team that made him want to smile back, even though he knew for a fact that you were not looking.

Baby steps, you would get there soon enough.

#sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa x yn #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #sakusa oneshot #sakusa angst #sakusa fluff #soulmate hq #haikyuu soulmate au #hq soulmate au #sakusa soulmate #sakusa kiyoomi x you #sakusa humor #sakusa hcs #sakusa imagines #sakusa scenarios #sakusa headcanons #sakusa texts #miya atsumu #hinata shouyou #hinata shoyo #kageyama tobio #haikyuu to the top #sakusa x you #sakusa x y/n #sakusa kiyoomi angst #sakusa hq #hq smau #kagehina

[librarianandguardian]

Just a feeling- Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Pairing : Saul Silva x Female!Reader

Word Count : ~2300

Warnings : Fluff, brief mention of drug use and burns

Music : Un homme - Jérémy Frerot

Author’s note : Getting pretty stressed because of a huge project at school, so I wrote this to blow off some steam ! I also wanted to say that I do not agree with the way some characters are written and treated in this show. I hope I did not perpetuate these errors, and that I got Silva’s personality a bit right at least. Feedback is appreciated, may it be on the story telling or even the grammar. English isn’t my first language. Flahs-backs in italics. Enjoy ! :D

GIF ‘s not mine, and I can’t find the creator.

French First World songs resonate in the Great Hall, she is dancing. Wild and free. Her loosened hairs fly through the wind. She has traded her Specialist armour for a long flowing dress. Her feet are hammering the ground in rhythm. The crowd carries her all over the dancefloor; she twirls and claps her hands following the music.

From an ignored fairy bloodline, her parents considered her a Specialist Legacy. When her mind fairies powers woke up, everything went wrong ; she was always an overwhelmed child. No one could help her everytime she lost control. Nothing but medication: earrings to contain, and pills to attenuate. It wasn't bad. She lived like that her entire life.

Silva is sitting on a plastic chair, leaning on the table by his side, his gaze lingering. She is an exceptional fighter; dance must be a piece of cake and fun judging from her large smile. To be fair, he barely remembered her from their time at Alfea. Farah told him she was three years younger than him and seemed to have a few memories.

« (Y/N) travelled a lot to the First World prior to college. Her parents were emissaries and brought back souvenirs. Rumours said that her room resembled a cave of wonders.

-Ever went there ?»

His friend chuckled.

« Once. It was full of trinkets, books, movies, postal cards too. Ben caught interest in it, especially the giant botanic encyclopaedia throning on her bookshelf. We both agreed after a while that she might be the ray of sunshine of her Specialist promotion. But I guess she was discreet, if you've never heard of her.»

It took some memory searching, but he indeed remembered one thing. A conversation between a bunch of 1st years talking about a secret party displaying famous First World movies. A few hours later, on the training field, (Y/N) battled fiercely. It caught the attention of many students, who gathered around the platform. Curiosity taking the best of him, he had followed the crowd.

« What's that First World song that I love to describe you with ?

-By the light Clairo, is it really necessary ? »

Her opponent mocked her. She rolled her eyes, wielding her sword before choosing her fight stance.

« You son of... Maneater from Nelly Furtado. Now let's fight please.

-Alright doll, eat me up. »

(Y/N) huffed in annoyance. Clairo was a good fighter, but a little bit too flirty. He launched himself at her. The young woman stayed incredibly calm. Dodging to the right, she left him to stumble before hitting his back with the wooden weapon. He fell to the ground with a grunt. A shy smile spread on her features.

Now that he thinks about it, her earring had intrigued him : an ear chain hanging from the top of the cartilage of her ear to her lobe. Each end was composed of a lavendish round lilac crystal. When she lost control recently, those crystals lit up with a blinding light and burned her skin.

« I change the earring every five year. Every year If any several big crises occurred.

-What about your burns ? How did they clean them up ? »

Her left hand ghosted over her intact lobe, while Harvey healed the bruised flesh. Her eyes stared at the floor of the greenhouse. Saul was holding her other hand.

« They... I stuffed myself with pills. Sometimes enough to sleep through an entire day. Within the Solarian force, it was the only way for them to treat me. None of their mind fairies could calm me down. I don't think you realize how much this, she lifted her intertwined hand, helps.»

The soldier chuckles at the memory. His eyes examined his fingers, remembering how she locked hers, as she found an anchor in his mind.

« My best guess ? Your training forged your head to have a certain mindset in crisis.

-Loads of Solarian troupers could have given you that.

-Yeah. I can't really explain it, she laughed shyly, maybe because you're a teacher, that two of your long time friends are fairies or just because you're good with people.»

Their gazes crossed. The air thickened. Truth to be told, (Y/N) was so lost upon why he managed to calm her down. Farah tried to guide her, but even then, nothing positive came out. Her youth as a student at Alfea only consisted in shared side glances with him in hallways. She sure as hell found the man attractive, but she had other stuff to think about.

A loud giggle snaps him back to reality. (Y/N) falls on his laps while trying to take off her high heels. Her eyes are opened wide and a little glassy. She's definitely drunk.

« Oh by the light, I'm sorry Silva. Aimed at the table ! »

The atmosphere becomes lighter. He catches her when she nearly trips off by trying to get up, one of his arms snaking around to help. Steadying herself on his laps, she catches her breath slowly, though some giggles erupt as she looks around.

« How can you still dance, uh ?»

With a guilty smile, she leans slightly against the table.

« Alcohol ! It's the only thing keeping me up, baby !»

Instant regret shoots through her veins. Some red creeps up on her cheeks, as her hands cover her mouth. The soldier chuckles, enamoured by her adorableness. One thing that strucked him when they met was her lightness. Out of all the solarian troupers out there, or even all the specialists he ever crossed paths with, she was one of the few who stayed so bright and playful. Subconsciously, his fingers dig slightly in her hips.

« It's alright, (Y/L/N).»

She giggles a bit, but thanks him. Farah watches from a far, joined by Ben. (Y/N)(Y/L/N) has been teaching at Alfea for a year now. The entire school seemed to have transformed into a much more joyous place : students got along better, the shyest opened a tad and the roughest softened. Ben's daughter Terra found a supporter of her personal projects and a confidant. Ben himself benefited from her return. Mostly in books and knowledge but that meant already so much to him. Farah gained a daughter ; (Y/N)'s powers were a mess for her advanced age, helping felt natural. But what she loved the most was how confused Saul got with the new Specialist. Their bond strengthened with time, however the first few days rocked the Headmaster all over the place.

«(Y/L/N), what did you do to our office ? Did you... Are these books classified by alphabetic order and colour ?! »

His colleague shrugged, trying to see if he was mad or just surprised. It happened a few days after her arrival. Their shared office went under few renovations.

« (Y/L/N), why dancing classes ? »

She shot up, put her hands on his desk and took twenty minutes to explain how it would make their movements more flexible, strengthen teamwork and be a tool for future mission on the job. Astonished could not describe Silva's feeling.

An admirable change that proved beneficial to the students. These two grew very fond of each other. A lot more than they thought. Words in the hallways started to spread about their growing fondness.

« Okay, I got a question for you, soldier boy.»

Saul tilted his head to the side.

« Are you having fun ?

-Of course I am.»

(Y/N) looks disappointed. Turning around, she pours some water in her cup and chugs it down.

« Really ? 'Cause the only thing I've seen you do is sit in a corner all night. »

He lowers his head, searching for the right words. How does he say that he just loves watching her run around the dancefloor ? How she bounds with students but also keeps their respect ? The fact that she's so organised that she could plan a First World themed party and keep her teacher skills to their best ? The shortest way for that would be admitting his feelings. He zones out long enough for her to talk again.

« It's okay. »

His eyes lock with hers. How did she sober up so quickly ?

« I know you have a reputation as a serious and frowny teacher to keep. And this is a graduation party, so. »

Never mind, she did not. The woman gets up, only to kneel under the tablecloth. He panics briefly.

« (Y/N), what on Earth are you doing ?»

She mumbles before appearing back outside. Her hands are holding a package. Another bright smile shines on her face. Silva knows what's coming, and he has mixed feelings about it; between fear, excitement and confusion.

« Happy Birthday Saul. »

His heart nearly stops. Few people know about his birthday, she is now a part of them. He frankly does not mind, even wished for it for a while now. His hands gently take the package to open it. Before his eyes lies a hard covered sketchbook and a wooden box full of high-quality pencils. The cover has a crow flying in a pearly sky with a red sun. The box is made of ebony and his name carved in silver. She knows an another of his secret. He tears up. The woman worries when he starts to sniffle. Much to her surprise, the soldier puts the gifts on the table before hugging her with all his might. Thank God the students are dancing or already out of the hall to smoke. (Y/N) answers his embrace, reassured.

« Thank you so much dear. »

It's her turn to have glossy eyes. She buries her face in his shoulder. This man is constantly under pressure and she has always wondered what he does during his free time : Does he train more ? He probably reads, right ? The answer came on a regular afternoon.

Silva knocked on her quarters' door. He heard shuffling before (Y/N) opened. She was wearing a bathrobe and a towel around her hair.

« Hi Saul ! Sorry hum. I woke up late and did not expect you so soon so, hum. »

The woman looked around, making her towel fall. Picking it up, she invited him in. He indulged, though a bit surprised.

« I'll be back in a jiffy, you know, putting some clothes on and all. Okay.»

She disappeared in her bathroom, leaving him to explore her room. Many watercolour paintings covered the walls, some abstract and others from the Realms of the Otherworld. However, a few landscapes felt unknown to him. On her desk lied sketches with a horde of different pencils. He discovered portraits of Farah, Ben, Terra, Sky, Riven and finally him. The lines were thin, some shadows sharp for the warriors and smoother for the fairies. A hint of jealousy took over him, quickly brushed away by shyness. The fact that she took the time to draw him was flattering. His fingers grazed over the pencils, wondering if he had time to prepare a little surprise. He puts down the file he came to discuss. A few minutes later, (Y/N) came out, dressed but her hair still wet on the edges. Silva was leaning against her desk, file in hand, a small smile on his features. She mirrored it before asking about the important matter at hand. Twenty minutes later, he left. Her eye caught a change in her drawing material : the portrait of Farah and Ben switched positions. She shuffled them, making sure everything was here, only to find an unknown piece. A cute fox was smiling, a little bubble under him stating :

« Nice Work (Y/L/N). Nice pencils too. Wish I had your talent.»

That last sentence made her wonder if he indeed had an artistic side. Needless to say that his quarters gave her answer. Same reason as his when he came, she knocked on his door one night. Though he did not fully invite her in, her eyes caught glimpses of nice sketches lying on a table, some rudimental equipment next to it.

They stay like this for a few seconds. The headmistress and Professor Harvey look at each other. No words, no need. Terra is chatting with a second year in a corner, bur her eyes catch them. She smiles, looking away shyly, but happy Sky sees the scene too, thanks to Riven who taps on his shoulder. They can't help the smile growing on their faces. Sky's father figure finding support is definitely going to be one of the highlights of their first year. (Y/N) and Saul part. One of her hands pats his arm.

« Wanna dance ? »

He closes his eyes, sighing. There is no lack of desire but the fear of what the students will say.

« I wish but... I don't know.

-I get it. But one day, you will ! That's a promise. »

With one last smile, she strolls back to the dancefloor, leaving him sheepish. He takes the sketchbook and a pencil. He might not dance tonight, but he'll make up to it.

#fate the winx saga #saul silva #saul silva x reader #sky of eraklyon #fate riven #farah dowling #ben harvey #saul silva imagine

[midautumnnightdream]

Family

For Cosette Appreciation Week

*

Cosette doesn’t remember much of the day her father died.

She has no idea how long she spent kneeling on the bare floor, her cheek pressed against the rough fabric, her hands clasping a larger one, that only recently had been stroking her head. She vaguely recalls Marius speaking to the portress. The doctor had been called back, though for what purpose, she couldn’t say. When Marius helped her to her feet, she could hardly stand without support.

Upon re-entering No. 6 Rue des Filles-du-Calvaire, she had gone straight to her chambers, leaving Marius to explain matters to his aunt and grandfather. He had followed her soon, in a state of great agitation: Cosette had watched him marching back and forth, filling the air with rambling, disjointed explanations that she barely listened to, and understood even less. The flood of broken self-recriminations surrounded her like an ocean, and she knew that she should care, but her papa was gone, and she felt cold and helpless and so very alone.

At some point, Marius had turned to her, and whatever he had seen in her face had stopped him short. There was something indescribable in his expression, an odd mix of realisation and dismay. He had reached out his hand, as if to touch her, and glanced at the door, as if to flee. In the end he had done neither, instead perching on the edge of the bed, several feet away from her. They sat together in silence for a long time.

Grandfather Gillenormand had been full of effusive sympathy and condolences. He had offered to take care of the funeral arrangements, but Marius had corralled him with great care, and had cited the wishes of the deceased, that a minimal fuss should be made. In the end, the funeral party had consisted only of the four members of the household, joined by Toussaint, whom Marius had invited on Cosette's behalf. It had also been Marius, who encouraged the rest of their party to say their farewells after the church service, leaving the young couple in their privacy at the graveside; and it was Marius, who had penned the odd little verse on the otherwise unmarked gravestone. Cosette had stood silent and numb, all the words she wished she could say threatened to choke her. Only tears flowed.

The morning after the funeral, Marius had finally explained it all; slow and hesitant in a way that carried nothing of his earlier agitation. In brief words he had explained the nature of her papa’s best kept secret, the confession he had made and the facts he had left out. Without sparing a single detail, he had described Jean Valjean's actions in saving his life, and his own actions in driving him away. At times, the familiar tone of self-recrimination would seep into his voice again, but then he would break off mid-sentence, seeming more ashamed of that bitter flood of guilt than the actions themselves. Cosette couldn’t say she wasn’t relieved: she was quite sure she didn’t have it in her to reassure him.

She should be angry, she knew. At Marius, certainly, probably even at papa. Marius certainly seemed to expect it from her, but she didn’t have it in her to conform to his expectations either. Perhaps she was angry, but her heart was heavy with exhaustion and grief, and she desperately didn’t want to be alone. When Marius placed a tentative hand on her wrist, she turned, wrapped her arms around him and wept.

Marius walks on eggshells around her after that day. Where before he would declaim expansively on any and all topics with an air of authority, he now seems to hesitate on every word, his eyes searching hers for approval. He’s attentive to her every mood, fidgeting around her like a great dark guardian, and yet disappearing instantly when she gives the slightest indication of wanting to be alone. She has no idea where he goes when he leaves her. He seems lost. It is both a relief and a concern.

Right at this moment, he’s doing a poor job of pretending to read a newspaper, his gaze flickering over to Cosette in her window seat and to the long forgotten needlework in her lap. Cosette can feel the weight of his eyes on her, distracting her from her reverie.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks eventually, his voice painfully hesitant. Cosette sighs and tears her gaze away from the window.

“My mother,” she answers honestly.

“Oh?” Cautious, encouraging.

“Papa used to talk to me about her when I was little. Then he stopped. I suppose he thought once I was older, I might start asking questions he couldn’t answer.”

“Do you remember her at all?” Marius asks.

Cosette shakes her head. “I don’t remember much of my childhood. I think I remember being held and I know it must have been my mother, who sang to me and rocked me to sleep. After...” She hesitates. “I was fostered, I think, or maybe just left behind. I was terribly unhappy there. Then  papa came and took me away.” It was so strange and dark and confusing, that part of her life, filled with bizarre recollections, many of which must have surely been just nightmares of her childish mind. She had never liked thinking about it and papa hadn’t liked talking about it. Now, she supposes she will never know.

“I don’t remember my mother either,” Marius says suddenly. “At least not well. I remember what she looked like, but that might be just her picture on grandfather’s mantelpiece.” He’s lost in thought for several moments, before continuing. “I remember her illness, and being taken to her bedchamber to say goodbye. We were staying with grandfather then; my father was away in the war. Afterwards, grandfather wouldn’t let him see me, and told me he had abandoned me. And then he died. My father died alone, because my grandfather lied to me and kept me away. I hated him for this. I walked out of his house, left him behind and hated him for many years. And now I’ve done the same –” His jaw snaps shut. “But this isn’t about me.”

Cosette would like nothing more than to close the subject, to turn away and let their wounds heal in peace, until such time would come when she is ready to soothe them away. She had done the same with her papa, countless times – and look how that had turned out. Every instinct tells her they are on the cusp of something that may yet define the rest of their life together. She suppresses her fear.

“Marius. What are you saying?”

The look in Marius’ eyes is full of anguish and uncertainty. “This isn’t about me,” he repeats, his voice holding a cadence of a mantra. “Your grief for your father, the relationship the two of you shared, the memories you still hold dear – none of this has anything to do with me at all, does it? My guilt and my fervent regret for how things turned out are superfluous to the issue at hand.” He hesitates, as if trying to explain some great revelation he doesn’t quite have the words for. “Your grief matters more than my experience of it. I’ve been in your place, but now I’m not. What matters is how you feel.”

Cosette doesn’t reply, unsure of what to say. She’s never heard Marius speak like that, isn’t quite sure she understands all that he’s trying to communicate.

He does that sometimes, thinking and brooding about an issue for so long that when he resurfaces, he’s bringing with him conclusions that are so profoundly simple as to be self-evident at the first glance, despite the layers of meaning visible only to him. Yet his usual ruminations tend towards the greater social questions and his own views on them. This? This feels different.

Something of her thoughts must have reflected on her face, for Marius expression grows rueful. “I suppose what I am trying to say is that I've never been very good at listening, at paying attention. I see what I expect to see, hear what I expect to hear and discard the rest. But bemoaning my foibles doesn’t help – the important thing is to do better. I will do better, for you.”

Cosette takes a deep breath. “Do you promise not to lie to me any more?”

“I promise!” Marius answers instantly, then hesitates. “I gave him my word to keep his secret before I even knew what it was.”

“You also promised he could visit,” Cosette replies quietly. “Why keep one promise and not the other?”

Marius has no reply to that.

“I swear I will not lie to you again,” is all he says.

“And you will not keep from me anything that has to do with me?”

“I swear,” Marius says. After a moment he adds. “I know it is a paltry excuse, but hurting you was the last thing that either of us wished to do. We were trying to protect you from suffering, and in doing that, we made the wrong choices. I made the wrong choices, because I failed to keep your feelings in mind, and that is something I can never make up for.”

For a long moment, the young couple sits in silence.

“Perhaps,” Cosette says eventually. “There was no good choice you could have made, because the choice wasn’t yours to make in the first place.”

“I’m your husband,” Marius says, grieved. “If I cannot do right by you, what’s the use of me?”

“Marius,” says Cosette. “Do we not, in this house, live in a republic?”

Marius huffs out a laugh. “I believe Monsieur Louis-Philippe would have something to say about that.”

“Do we not agree that it is no good, one person making all the decisions?” Cosette continues, unperturbed. “Your grandfather has made some terrible choices, both for you and for your aunt. My papa chose badly, in leaving me. I do not wish for any children of ours to live like we did, alone in their grief and helpless in their ignorance.”

“Never,” Marius assures vehemently. Cosette doesn’t meet his gaze, but she can see his expression growing horrified. “You do not believe me.”

“Marius,” Cosette answers, equal parts fond and exasperated, and perhaps just a bit resentful. “I think I need you to know, that before anything else, you are my family. The only family I have left. Do you know what that means to me, an orphan several times over, registered in my marriage documents under the surname given to me through kindness of strangers? I love you.”

“You say that you love me and I believe you,” Marius replies quietly. “But you won’t say that you trust me.”

“Marius,” Cosette says. “Do you trust me?”

“Always,” Marius replies instantly, the grows quiet under the weight of the promise.

Cosette takes his hand in hers. “Then, as long as you keep trusting me, I endeavour to trust you. How does that sound?”

Marius remains quiet and pensive for a long minute. Then, for the first time in weeks, he smiles.

“That, I believe, is what my friend Bahorel would have called a treaty.”

#Les Miserables #Les Mis #Les Mis fanfiction #Cosette Week #Cosette #Marius Pontmercy #Jean Valjean #(is not really there) #character death #post canon #The One In Which Marius Considers Someone Else's Perspective For The First Time Ever #(he's terribly unnerved by the experience) #Cosette deals

[animedaddymilkers]

Kinkmas 2020: Day 20

Prompt: Size Kink w/ Kisame

Genre: Smut/18+ || Tags: Size Kink, Comfort, Tummy Bulge, Cum-Flation, Fingering, Penetrative Sex || Characters: Kisame Hoshigaki, Female Reader || read it on ao3 here

"Hi, can I help you find any…anything?" your customer service voice chimed out, only stuttering over your words when you finally looked up and up and up and met the eyes of the customer in front of you.

Said customer was a hulk of a man, though the bluish tint to his skin had you questioning even that part. You were used to being generally small and short but the height of this man made you remember that all the more. Still, you had a job to do and kept the cheerful smile plastered onto your face. The man turned around and looked down at you rather amused, though you were relieved when his face broke out in a smile.

"Why yes, I need help finding some bandages and perhaps a new shirt," his voice boomed out, nearly sending you to your knees at the pure baritone nature of it.

Only now did you notice the tatters in his shirt and the gash covering his torso, "Oh, gosh, okay! H-Here just follow me!"

Clamoring about you collected medical equipment and grabbed his hand, leading him to the back of the shop after flipping the open sign to closed. You sat him down at your simple kitchen chair, which almost looked comical under his large form. But you didn't have time to ogle over the sight of him as he was still actively bleeding. Your hands prepped the supplies quickly and you were about to start fixing him up when his hands wrapped around yours, effectively stopping you.

"You don't need to do this, little dewdrop. I can do it myself."

Besides the affectionate nickname catching you off guard, you steeled your resolve and shook your head at him, "Please, let me do this! I don't see how you can stitch yourself up with your hands shaking so!"

He raised an eyebrow and looked to his hands holding yours. Sure enough, even while clasped around yours, his hands were shaking. Damn, the injury must be affecting him more than he thought. With a defeated sigh he let your hands go and leaned back into the chair, the wood ominously creaking beneath his weight. You sat on another chair in front of him and went to work, first, discarding him of the tattered shirt barely covering him. Still, to see his chest completely bare had your cheeks heating up. Your hands pressed against his abdomen to put pressure on the wound, intent to stop the blood. As you held your hands there the man in front of you rubbed his face.

"How did you get this injury?"

"Best not for you to ask questions, little one," so much for small talk.

"Can I at least have your name?"

The man seemed to think about it for a moment before answering, "Kisame. Yours?"

You gave him your name and reveled in the small smile he offered you after hearing it. After the introduction he seemed to relax slightly, allowing just a bit of small talk between you two. He told you he was injured in a fight, though he wouldn't go into too much detail and you wouldn't ask. The blood flow finally slowed and you took the cloth away, throwing it into a nearby bin. Then you set about cleaning the wound, frowning when Kisame tensed at the antiseptic that no doubt burned. Your other hand grabbed his and held it tight to support him through the pain. Briefly, you took in the sheer size difference of your hands, your own barely as big as his palm. After cleaning, you carefully bandaged the gash, paying mind to patch it up so it hopefully wouldn't rip open again.

"Thank you."

It was a simple statement, but it conveyed a tone of finality, that he was leaving and you turned from putting the supplies away, "You still need a shirt. And please, let me make you some food. It'll help you recover better."

Kisame should have turned down the offer, but you were hospitable and altogether unassuming. So, against the better judgment, he was trained with, he accepted your offer. Thankfully, you had a meal already on cooking since the morning and you dished out two bowls for the two of you. As you ate, it felt natural and easy to sit across from each other and chat. The conversation flowed from topics of your favorite colors, to what you thought about the fate of stray dogs. There was no rhyme or reason to what you talked about and that's what made it interesting. But, as Kisame finished his fourth bowl, you realized it was once again drawing to a close. You weren't sure why, maybe it was his attractive looks, but you didn't want to say goodbye to him. He offered to help do dishes and you actually accepted his help, if only to keep him around that much longer. Again, that only lasted for a handful of minutes until you were left shifting from foot to foot as both of you stood around in silence.

"You… You could always stay the night," you offered boldly before quickly adding, "To help you heal more, of course!"

His eyebrows raised before he nodded at your second part, "Of course, of course. You're right. It would help. I'll stay. Do you have an extra bed?"

Your face dropped slightly and you laughed a bit nervously, "Uhh, well, no, but you can have my bed! There's room enough for you."

"And enough for you too? Well, 'suppose even if not, you could always sleep on top of me, dewdrop," Kisame stated plainly before laughing at your sheepish reaction.

"I-I suppose," your cheeks heated up at the image of you curled up on his chest, another reaction that Kisame didn't miss.

He leaned down until he was eye level, grinning suavely, "I still need to repay you for patching me up, so name your price, and don't be shy about it."

You thought about it for a moment, knowing he wouldn't accept 'nothing' as an answer, "Kiss me."

"Damn, that's a pretty cheap price for a wrap job. But I guess I shouldn't complain. I'll gladly kiss you a million times over," with that, Kisame lifted you from the floor so your face was level with his.

Wrapping your legs around his torso, careful to mind his wound, you rested your hands on his broad shoulders. His smile was contagious and even as he leaned in for the kiss it was all a bit surreal. The soft lips against yours tasted, unlike anything you ever kissed before. Reminiscent of salt with a spearmint kick to it, almost like taffy. It was far from bad and when he went to pull away you found yourself following his mouth, keeping the contact. He exhaled in amusement against you but obeyed your wishes, kissing you again and again. His large hands supported your bottom, one hand easily covering an entire cheek as he held you close. The sheer size of the man had you wet from the second he walked into your store and now that he was kissing you in his arms you were a bit anxious to get the show on the road if you will.

You pulled away to peel your shirt off, white eyes taking in every inch of newly revealed skin. The shirt landed somewhere in the hallway as Kisame wandered through to what he deemed your bedroom. Not like it was hard to spot anyway, it was the only room that had a bed in the middle. Gingerly, he laid you down on the bed and snickered.

"You're definitely going to have to sleep on top of me," He grinned and kissed down your jaw to your neck.

"You say that like it's a bad thing," you responded in a breath, moaning at the way he sucked on your skin.

The sharp teeth so close to your jugular had your heart beating a bit faster. Though you were almost positive Kisame wouldn't hurt you, just knowing there was a possibility turned you on even more. He nipped slightly and you gasped at the feeling before letting out a moan. The reaction was exactly what he wanted and he took it as an invitation to do more to you, a hand placing itself between your legs and rubbing you through your pants. A grin spread across his face as he felt your wetness even through the material and went about undoing them, eager to see just how soaked you were. Once completely bare he slipped twin fingers down, damn you really were soaked. He pushed the thick digits inside, slowly working you open and making a comment about how he needed to stretch you.

Foolishly, you thought that just meant fingering you for a few minutes and then the main event, but you couldn't have been more wrong. Just when you thought you were going to get fucked, Kisame instead pushed a third, thick finger inside of you. You were already a moaning mess but he still pumped his fingers in and out, working you open even more. He curled his fingers just right and before long you were having your first orgasm of the night. Finally, he pulled all of his fingers out and began kicking your juices off. His fingers then hooked into his pants and boxers, pushing them down and off, leaving you gasping at the sight of what lay underneath.

Words were unfathomable as you took in the absolute fear-invoked of a cock he had. Truly, when people wrote about a cock able to split a person in two, there was a picture of him next to it. It made sense now as to why he went to such lengths to prep you and still you thought maybe he should go back to prepping you more. Yet you didn't voice any of those fears, the feeling of lust overtaking you and you decided you needed to try and take it right then and there. Kisame seemed to notice though and asked if you had any lube, pouring a copious amount onto his length before flipping you onto all fours. Like the horny bitch you currently were, you pressed your face down and wiggled your ass in the air slightly, begging him to fuck you already.

"You look so good like this, dewdrop. I'm going to fuck you so good. You're gonna look so sexy trying to take as much of my dick as you can."

His lewd words earned a moan from you and the tip of his cock nudged against your entrance. Slowly and carefully, he pushed inside of you, listening for any cues from you for him to stop, but when none came he went as far as your pussy would allow him to. For a moment, he stayed still, the sheer size of him spearing you had you moaning and gripping at the sheets nearly losing your mind. He barely got halfway in, but that was still impressive for your first time taking him. Inch by inch he pulled out until the tip was the only thing left inside of you before pushing back in, forcing you open again. You whined and wiggled your ass slightly, needing more movement from him, no matter how much it could potentially hurt.

Kisame groaned and obliged, pulling his hips out a bit quicker before thrusting back in. His heavy balls slapped against your clit, sending shivers down your spine. Where other lovers would lean down and kiss your shoulder, Kisame easily leaned over and caught your mouth in a kiss, not having to worry about stretching to reach at all. His large hands played with your tits, tugging on your nipples like they were toys. Though even with all the rippling pectorals and sheer body size, each of his touches were soft and playful. He pounded into you and you came at the sight of your stomach protruding with each thrust. The squeeze around him as you came was honestly a bit painful for him, but hey it's a good thing he got off on that. He helped you ride out your orgasm and then continued, almost literally, rearranging your guts.

"Fuck, dewdrop, this pussy feels so good wrapped around me, I could keep you like this forever."

Somewhere, your mind knew you only met this man today, but the overwhelming majority just didn't give a shit. He could keep you forever and it'd be a happy life. As long as it meant he'd fuck you like this, you'd be content. His hips seemed to only go faster, but with the amount of thigh muscle he was working with, it made sense. You came again when his balls hit against your clit particularly rough, sending your thighs shaking and you gripped the bedsheets desperately. Kisame groaned as you came again and his hands never stopped touching you, groping at every inch of your body.

Though it was only after your third orgasm did he start to falter himself. He grunted and gripped your shoulder a bit tighter than before, hips stuttering in their rhythm. But, he wasn't done yet and flipped you onto your back before picking the pace back up, fucking into you like a crazed animal. You weren't about to complain though and not like you could either, at this point you could barely form words longer than his name and various cusses. Kisame nipped along your collarbone, muffling his groans before he growled and shoved himself deep, covering your inner walls in white. It didn't stop there, his load felt like it kept coming and coming, the sheer feeling sending you into another orgasm. By the time he was finished your stomach had a barely yet still there bulge, thanks to the massive load he gave you. You babbled incoherent whines, whimpers, and moans and now this time, it was Kisame's turn to tend to you.

As he cleaned you up and, like promised, settled you on his chest, he grinned while rubbing your back, "Guess I should get stabbed more often."

hope you enjoyed! remember likes & reblogs help me reach more people! :D

#naruto #naruto x reader #kisame hoshigaki #kisame x reader #kisame x you #smut #naruto smut #reader insert #kinkmas 2020 #size difference

[ithinkilikeit-reactions]

Nu’est “You accidentally tell them you love them”

Nu’est Masterlist                                           Group Masterlist

Ask: Omg hello?! Is this the krusty crab?How about existentially telling nu’est you love them💕Thank youu

Jr/Jonghyun: 

It was one of those days, where he had sat writing all day. Trying to correct lyrics, trying to get the words out that he wanted to in this song. Jonghyun was feeling a lot of things and well one of those was missing you. Having been holed up in the studio meant he hadn’t seen you much. 

Until he heard a knock on the door and saw your face peaking through the crack. Just when he needed you. “Hey you.” He said with a smile on his face and you returned it. “Hey you.” You placed your bags on the ground by his desk. He extended his arms for you, a signal for you to hug him. 

He aired out some of his worries over the song to you, as you sat across from him and simply watched him. You couldn’t understand why he was so worried, the lyrics sounded great. They were warm and heartfelt and well, as you read over them you couldn’t stop your mouth from speaking. “I love you.” It came out before you had the power to stop them. Just with how hard he worked, with his sweet written words and the way he was looking at you, you couldn’t help but feel the wave of emotion. 

It caught him off guard, not because he didn’t feel the same but because it seemed like you were surprised with your own words. It made him laugh, especially as he took a look at your expression. 

“Don’t worry. I love you too.” 

Aron/Aaron: 

You weren’t entirely sold, when Aaron asked you to come over after work. After having a really long and tiring day, you weren’t quite feeling the need to go and do something. But you went anyways because a day without Aron was significantly worse than a day with him. Maybe your mood would change. 

Entering his house, your nose was filled with the smell of food and spices. It almost greeted you like a hug. “Hey.”  You said, turning the corner and looking at Aron behind the stove. “Hey!” Aaron smiled at you before coming to give you a quick kiss, returning to the stove right after. You looked at the food, to see homemade chicken soup and side dishes almost ready to go. 

“What’s all of this?” You asked, taking your jacket off and putting your things down. “Well you sounded like you had a rough day so I thought I would make you dinner, in hopes to cheer you up. Chicken soup is your favorite right?” He asked, eyes wide with expectation. You weren’t expecting this, not at all. So much so you felt your eyes well up with tears. Walking around the counter, to give him a hug. “Thank you for taking care of me. I love you.” You were thinking it, you didn’t mean to say it. However it came out anyways and you didn’t mind. Those words had been in your mind before. 

Aaron hugged, stroking your back gently as you said it. It made him pause for a moment, this was new but it was appreciated. He pulled away and looked at you, stroking your cheeks. 

“It’s my job to take care of you because I love you.” 

Baekho/Dongho: 

You couldn’t exactly remember what you were laughing about, but Dongho had you clutching your chest and gasping for air. For someone who was as stunning as he was, he sure was strange and incredibly amusing. 

“Are you laughing at me?” He asked, rolling over to you on the picnic blanket. “I am.” You laughed, leaning over him and putting your hand on his chest. Dates like this were few and far between, but immensly cherished. Especially as he made you laugh like this. It made you feel all warm and bubbly. 

Dongho pulled you down on top of him, laying you flat on his chest and rolling you over to tickle your sides. You fought against him between laughter, not being able to escape his strong grasp so you started tickling his own neck.  “I love you so much.” You huffed between breaths and laughter, your words were meant to be a thought but the laughter had fogged your brain. 

You instantly covered your mouth, feeling that Dongho stopped tickling you to look at you. “I’m sorry, I mean it’s alright if you’re not there yet. I didn’t mean to say it yet I-.” He cut you off, kissing your lips sweetly and moving his hands to stroke your hair. 

“I love you too.” 

 Minhyun: 

Coughing was natural instinct as you entered his apartment, it was filled with thick air and slight amount of smoke which naturally made you panic. Quickly walking to the source you saw Minhyun running water over a pan which seemed to be the source. Noting that nothing was actually on fire, you took a deep breath. 

“What happened?” Your question startled him, not even having realised that you had come in. “Well... I- you see this recipe said to leave it in the pan for 20 minutes and I forgot about it.” He admitted sheepishly and looked at you with an apologetic face. You couldn’t help but laugh, no one got hurt, well maybe the pan but that was about it. It was a comical situation, truly. 

“I was trying to cook for you but- yeah.” He said and you cupped his cheeks. “Oh honey.” You laughed, not entirely knowing what to say. The gesture was so sweet. “Ahh, I love you but leave the cooking to me.” You didn’t quite realise the weight of your words, or that they were a love confession. Not until you watched his eyes go wide. 

“You love me?” Minhyun asked, face turning from surprised to smug as he could tell you didn’t quite mean to say it. His hands moved yours from his face and you tried covering your own in embarrassment. 

“It’s alright, I almost burned the place down because I love you too.”

Ren/Mingi: 

Mingi amazed you every single day and to say that, was an understatement. Watching him perform in musicals, playing the roles he does to be so open with, it was amazing to watch. Especially after the first night of him in the show, you were amazed by him. 

“Woahhh that was amazing.” Mingi said, coming off stage and still riding the euphoria he feels after a show. “I agree.” You said wrapping your arms around him and enjoying the energy flowing off of him. “Did I do a good job?” He asked as you walked back to his dressing room together. “Of course. It’s so amazing to watch you like this.” You said, not wanting to let him go. 

“It’s just so cool to watch you take these roles head on. I love you so much for that.” You meant it all, you just didn’t mean for it come out like this. It was accidental and Mingi could tell when you covered your mouth. He started laughing, running a makeup wipe over his face. 

“You should see your face. You’re a tomato.” He commented and you shook your head. “We haven’t said that yet, I didn’t mean for it to come out like this. But I guess. It’s out there now.” You said, feeling slightly stressed that your own mouth had betrayed you. Mingi turned to look at you, with a soft smile. 

“I love you too and love that you support me like this.” 

A/N: I’m in my nu’est feelies so this request actually made me cry because I am a crybaby. 

#a&mlibrary #nu'est #nu'est reaction #jr #jr reaction #aron #aron reaction #baekho #baekho reaction #minhyun #minhyun reaction #ren #ren reaction

[jiangwanyinscatmom]

The funniest thing is JIANG CHENG HAD MULTIPLE CHANCES TO DO THE RIGHT THING but every time his jealousy and resentment towards wwx won. Are we gonna forget that his jealousy for wwx is the main thing that jin sect used to separate wwx from a little "support" he had left

Whuuuut? But he tried so hard during the biggest turning point! 🥺

Jiang Cheng’s brows were knitted. He rubbed the vein that throbbed at his temple and soundlessly took in a deep breath, “… I apologize to all of the Sect Leaders. Everyone, I’m afraid you don’t know that the Wen cultivator whom Wei WuXian wanted to save was called Wen Ning. We owe him and his sister Wen Qing gratitude for what happened during the Sunshot Campaign.”

Nie MingJue, “You owe them gratitude? Isn’t the QishanWen Sect the ones who caused the YunmengJiang Sect’s annihilation?”

Within the last few years, Jiang Cheng insisted on working late into the night every day. That day, just as he decided to rest early, he had to rush to Koi Tower overnight because of the thundering news. He’d been suppressing some anger under his fatigue since the beginning. With his natural competitiveness, he was already quite agitated since he had to apologize to other people. When he heard Nie MingJue mention the incident of his sect again, hatred sprouted within him.

The hatred was directed at not only everyone who was seated in this room, but also Wei WuXian.

Lan XiChen responded a moment later, “I have heard of Wen Qing’s name a few of times. I do not remember her having participated in any of the Sunshot Campaign’s crimes.”

Nie MingJue, “But she’s never stopped them either.”

Lan XiChen, “Wen Qing was one of Wen RuoHan’s most trusted people. How could she have stopped them?”

Nie MingJue spoke coldly, “If she responded with only silence and not opposition when the Wen Sect was causing mayhem, it’s the same as indifference. She shouldn’t have been so disillusioned as to hope that she could be treated with respect when the Wen Sect was doing evil and be unwilling to suffer the consequences and pay the price when the Wen Sect was wiped out.”

Lan XiChen knew that because of what happened to his father, Nie MingJue abhorred Wen-dogs more than anything, especially with how intolerable he was toward evil. Lan XiChen didn’t say anything else.

But he's such a wonderful diplomat, who had no way of protecting his brother. Curious how he doesn't expand on what he means by that debt and just lets the hate about the Wens take over even though Lan Xichen tried to get more information even though it would have helped to show Wei Wuxian was not power hungry.

Taking this opportunity, Jin GuangShan spoke, “Sect Leader Jiang, this was supposed to be a matter of your sect. It wouldn’t have been appropriate for me to barge in. But now that things are like this, I’ll have to caution you on the topic of Wei Ying.”

Jiang Cheng, “Sect Leader Jin, go ahead.”

Jin GuangShan, “Sect Leader Jiang, Wei Ying is your right-hand man. You value him a lot. All of us know this. However, on the other hand, it’s hard to tell whether or not he actually respects you. In any case, I’ve been a sect leader for so many years and I’ve never seen the servant of any sect dare be so arrogant, so proud. Have you heard what they say outside? Things like how during the Sunshot Campaign the victories of the YunmengJiang Sect were all because of Wei WuXian alone—what nonsense!”

Hearing this, Jiang Cheng’s face was already quite dark. Jin GuangShan shook his head, “In an event as important as the Flower Banquet, he dared throw a fit right in front of you, leaving however he pleased. He even dared say something like ‘I don’t care about the sect leader Jiang WanYin at all!’ Everyone who was there heard it with their own ears…”

Suddenly, an indifferent voice spoke up, “No.”

Jin GuangShan was in the middle of his fabrication. Hearing this, he paused in surprise, turning along with the crowd to see who it was.

Lan WangJi sat with his back straight, speaking in a tone of absolute tranquility, “I did not hear Wei Ying say this. I did not hear him express the slightest disrespect towards Sect Leader Jiang either.”

Lan WangJi rarely spoke when he was outside. Even when they debated cultivation techniques during Discussion Conferences, he only answered when others questioned or challenged him. With utmost concision, he overcame, without fault, the lengthy arguments of others. Apart from this, he almost never spoke up. And thus, when Jin GuangShan was interrupted by him, he experienced a far greater shock than annoyance. But after all, his fabrication was exposed right in front of so many. He felt a bit awkward.

The good thing was that, not long after he felt awkward, Jin GuangYao came to save the day, exclaiming, “Really? That day, Young Master Wei busted into Koi Tower with such force. He said too many things, one more shocking than the next. Perhaps he said a few things that were along those lines. I can’t remember them either.”

His memory could only be equal to Lan WangJi’s, if not better. As soon as he heard it, Nie MingJue knew that he was fibbing on purpose, frowning slightly.

Jin GuangShan followed the transition, “That’s right. Anyhow, his attitude has always been arrogant.”

One of the sect leaders added, “To be honest, I’ve wanted to say this since a long time ago. Although Wei WuXian did a few things during the Sunshot Campaign, there are many guest cultivators who did more than him. I’ve never seen anyone as full of themselves as him. Excuse my bluntness, but he’s the son of a servant. How could the son of a servant be so arrogant?”

He never believed at all what Jin Guangshan was saying, and he was only jealous because Wei Wuxian always overshadowed him and shouldn't have. Wei Wuxian only ever cared about showing off like he said and never took Jiang Cheng's feelings into account and cruelly ignored him for everyone else. Obviously Jiang Cheng wanted to stand up for Wei Wuxian like Mianmian and Lan Wangji, but he had no power (never mind that Lan Wangji and Mianmian had a lesser position in all of this and despite being mocked tried to be heard and keep Wei Wuxian from being blackened). What? Noooo, he's not at all buying into what Jin Guangshan is saying about his own first disciple he's always expressed faith in Wei Wuxian.

With him having brought up the ‘son of a servant’, naturally there’d be some who connected it to the ‘son of a prostitute’ standing in the hall. Jin GuangYao clearly noticed the unkind stares. Yet, his smile remained perfect, not at all faltering. The crowd went with the flow and voiced their complaints.

“In the beginning, Sect Leader Jin asked Wei Ying for the Tiger Seal with nothing but good intentions, worried that he wouldn’t be able to control it and lead to a disaster. He, however, used his own yardstick to measure another’s intents. Did he think that everyone is after his treasure? What a joke. In terms of treasures, is there any sect that doesn’t hold a few treasures?”

Ignoring the rioting voices behind him, Lan WangJi stood up as well and exited. After Lan XiChen understood what happened a few moments ago, hearing how the direction of their discussion worsened, he spoke up, “Everyone, she is gone already. Let us settle down.”

Now that ZeWu-Jun had spoken, of course the people had to give him some face. In Golden Pavilion, one after another, they began to denounce Wei WuXian and the Wen-dogs again. They all spoke with passionate hatred, letting their indiscriminate, irrefutable loathing dance in the air. Using the atmosphere, Jin GuangShan turned to Jiang Cheng, “He’s been plotting for a while to go to Burial Mound, hasn’t he? After all, with his skills, it wouldn’t be too hard to set up a sect of his own. And so, he used this as a chance to leave the Jiang Sect, intending to do whatever he pleases in the bright skies outside. You rebuilt the YunmengJiang Sect with so much work. He’s got a few controversial traits in him to begin with, and still he doesn’t restrain himself, stirring up so much trouble for you. He doesn’t care about you at all.”

Jiang Cheng pretended to stand his ground, “That probably isn’t that case. Wei WuXian has been like this ever since he was young. Even my father couldn’t do anything about him.”

Jin GuangShan, “Even FengMian-xiong couldn’t do anything about him, huh?” He chuckled a few times, “FengMian-xiong just favored him.”

Hearing the words ‘favored him’, the muscles beside the corners of Jiang Cheng’s mouth twitched.

Jin GuangShan continued, “Sect Leader Jiang, you’re not like your father. It’s just been a couple of years since the reestablishment of the YunmengJiang Sect, precisely when you should be displaying your power. And he doesn’t even know to avoid suspicions. What would the Jiang Sect’s new disciples think if they saw him? Don’t tell me you’d let them see him as their role model and look down on you?”

He spoke one sentence after another, striking the iron while it was still hot. Jiang Cheng spoke slowly, “Sect Leader Jin, that’s enough. I’ll go to Burial Mound and deal with this.”

Jin GuangShan felt satisfied, speaking in a sincere tone, “That’s the spirit. Sect Leader Jiang, there are some things, some people that you shouldn’t put up with.”

After the gathering ended, all of the sect leaders felt that they received a terrific topic for conversation. They walked quickly as they discussed with all their might, their passionate hatred still burning strong.

No this is not Jin Guangshan taking advantage of Jiang Cheng's well known complexes over his dad and Wei Wuxian. He is not using the fact at all that Jiang Cheng hates that people flock to Wei Wuxian naturally to set off Jiang Cheng's complex about being seen as lesser than Wei Wuxian in anyway. Jiang Cheng was powerless after all to stand up for Wei Wuxian's reputation and help.

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #lol two prides #at this point Jiang Cheng made it clear his sect leader reputation was what he cared about

[ey8508]

Words and thoughts

Rumors and Secrets: Li Zeyan (李泽言) | Victor

Li Zeyan SSR: 寸步 | 言思合缝

【Following the handwriting, he will definitely find the place to start 】

Note:

R&S for this card (CG above)

Chapter SPOILERS up to Season 2: Chapter 10-13 (read at your own risk)

Contains 5 chapters

Translation isn’t 100% accurate (or include grammar errors)

Every part for LZ’s dialogue would be in “this setting”

Do not repost to any other site (reblog is fine)

Chapter 1

Page 1

Early in the morning, president Huarui's office.

"President, this is the main agenda for today, do you think there is a need to add other arrangements?"

Looking at the president's back in front of him, Wei Qian fixed his glasses. He lowered his head and glanced at the notebook he was holding: there was a contract signing and a negotiation in the morning, two meetings in the afternoon, and a business meeting in the evening, not to mention there are many documents and reports that needed to be reviewed and signed...

The president has always handled such a busy and high-pressure work schedule in an orderly manner. It is indeed the style that the "king" he has admired since his school days can have.

Page 2

The "king" recognized by Wei Qian is now standing by the window and looking out. After listening to Wei Qian's schedule reminder, he responded with a low voice: "That's it for now."

"Understand, Mr. President" Wei Qian paused "By the way, the producer of Time Media has been in the small conference room. Do you think you should sign the contract now, or..."

The man by the window finally turned around. He looked calm, wearing a black ironed suit with white pocket squares and even his hair seemed to be rigorous and pleasant. Today's weather is very good, the sun shines brightly and glisten through his side profile.

Page 3

Turning his gaze to the door, Li Zeyan nodded imperceptibly: "Let's go."

Time Media has been in the limelight in the recent years. They had planned and produced many popular variety shows. The cooperation with Time Media this time is a rational decision made by Huarui after examining various data and estimating the return.

Page 4

In the small meeting room, the producer of Time Media held up the contract that had just been signed and the ink was not yet dry. His eyes were sewn up with satisfaction. Finally reached a substantive cooperative relationship with Huarui, and with this large capital support, he can finally flex his muscles and plan his "genius variety show".

Probably people are easy to float on happy occasions, the producer carefully put away the contract, while cheerfully and subconsciously complimenting: "If Mr. Li is free, you are welcome to come to the recording site of the program team at any time. If you can be a guest, the ratings will definitely increase!"

Li Zeyan's movements clearly paused for a moment. After a few seconds, he faintly said: "Absurd"

Page 5

But his sudden deepness and silence naturally viewed differently in the eyes of the producer. The air pressure in the conference room seemed to become invincibility colder. The producer couldn't help but regret: After all, he is the president of Huarui with a busy schedule. How could he have time to entertain the public as a variety show guest?

Just when the producer was hesitant to say something to fix the situation, Wei Qian smiled in time to clear the situation: "If you have no other questions, I will send you downstairs." Li Zeyan nodded tacitly and watched them disappear at the door of the meeting room.

Page 6

He knew that the producer had misunderstood. His momentary pause was not displeasure, but a daze caused by an unannounced impulse. As the producer's voice fell one by one, the words ‘HBS’ suddenly flashed in his mind. It seems that in another real time, someone initiated an invitation to him to be a guest on the show.

He frowned slightly, wondering where this vague feeling came from. It flashed out of thin air and there was no more information, but a seed was planted in his heart.

Chapter 2

Page 1

When Wei Qian sent the producer back, Li Zeyan was sitting sideways on the chair behind the desk. The spring sunshine fell on his shoulders and his hands were gently clasped together, not knowing what he was thinking.

When he saw Wei Qian coming in, Li Zeyan asked him in a deep voice: "Wei Qian, do you know HBS TV?"

"HBS, do you mean that TV station that has the highest ratings for variety shows in the United States for 50 consecutive years?"

Li Zeyan gave a low "Hmm", and seemed to say to himself: "In my impression, there should be no company in Lianyu City that cooperates with HBS."

Page 2

Wei Qian quickly gave an affirmative response: "You remember correctly. Although many companies have extended their arms to HBS, they have not received any response for the time being."

It is as expected. So just now...

Li Zeyan bent his elbows and raised his hands, rubbing his temples. He slept very restlessly last night, he should be fatigued.

Seeing Li Zeyan frowning and closing his eyes, Wei Qian hesitated for a moment: "Why Mr. president suddenly ask about HBS if you wants to cooperate with the other party? If necessary, I will make confirmation about it."

Page 3

"No need." Li Zeyan opened his eyes, his face has returned to calmness, and his eyes are repainted with seriousness and sharpness. "It has been half a month, how is the acquisition plan of TEC Pharmaceuticals progressing?"

"The report is on my desk, Mr. president wait a moment."

"Wait." Li Zeyan called to him, "Bring in a cup of coffee on your way back here."

Page 4

After processing the two documents, Wei Qian returned with the coffee and the rich aroma was floating in the air. Even with the mellow smell, Wei Qian began to report seriously to Li Zeyan about the progress of the acquisition of TEC Pharmaceuticals.

"Over the period of time, according to the previously formulated plan, we have carried out two negotiations with TEC Pharmaceuticals with the letter of intent for mergers and acquisitions..."

Page 5

The hydrogen-containing coffee mist rose up as Li Zeyan took a few sips from the cup of coffee while listening to Wei Qian's report. The coffee flowed into his throat, and he twisted his eyebrows slightly. It was clearly the same coffee beans. From when, he gradually felt that the taste of the coffee seemed to be something missing. Sometimes he even had an inexplicable conviction, as if it was because he was missing a person to drink coffee with him.

Li Zeyan squeezed his eyebrows a little irritably.

Page 6

At the same time, Wei Qian's report came to an end. "... TEC's company representative said that the conditions given by Huarui had not yet reached the best expectations, and also cryptically revealed that a century-old company in Europe is also approaching them. So at present, the other party's attitude is not clear, and it is in an ambiguous wait-and-see stage."

Li Zeyan spoke a long time after the voice fell, and his voice became lighter than before: "I see."

Page 7

In fact, Wei Qian had already noticed the strangeness of the president during the report. As a meticulous assistant, he couldn't help but care: "Mr. President, are you uncomfortable?"

Li Zeyan shook his head, and handed the documents that he had just processed to Wei Qian: "It's just that I didn't sleep well last night." After saying that, he glanced at his watch and said, "It's getting late, get the materials for the negotiation meeting, see you downstairs."

Chapter 3

Page 1

The time bar of a week suddenly passed by.

For a whole week, Li Zeyan has been busy with the acquisition of TEC Pharmaceuticals. With Li Zeyan's resolute and personal efforts, just now, Huarui finally succeeded in advancing its acquisition territory one step further.

In the car, Li Zeyan was looking at a work report that he had just received before getting on the car. Li Zeyan sighed softly when thinking of her bad habit of submitting something and being tired of teaching. The report was about the progress of the charity sale next month, and he quickly scanned it. He still remember last week, under his agitation, she confidently bet that she would win the support of the city government. In this report, she did it.

Page 2

Li Zeyan put down the iPad and curled his lips in relief. He remembered the bet he had made before: if she really did it, he would pick her a small gift. Of course, Li Zeyan didn't intend to break his promise. What's more, although he always commented on ‘boring and naive’ about choosing small gifts for her, he subconsciously felt that it was natural to do it.

The breeze of spring blew in from the gap of the car window. It was rare to feel the breath of spring easily. He cast his eyes out of the window casually. Suddenly, he seemed to catch a glimpse of something...

‘parking.’

Page 3

After letting Wei Qian leave first, Li Zeyan walked to the door of the store that had just been polished ​​and opened the glass door.

This is a gift shop that looks bright and exquisite, with a dazzling array of gifts and goods in an orderly manner. Li Zeyan walked around the shop carefully, and the clerk always followed him politely and kindly.

Although these gifts looked exquisite, there was nothing he would have liked at a glance.

Page 4

Just when he was a little disappointed, a humble keychain suddenly broke into his sight.

The keychain itself is not special, but the wrapping paper underneath it attracted Li Zeyan's attention. The wrapping paper painted a red telephone booth with a British atmosphere.

Perceiving Li Zeyan's pause, the clerk quickly asked: "Mister, do you like this keychain?"

Li Zeyan responded and took the keychain to look closely.

Page 5

"This is a classic British feature," the clerk smiled graciously. "It seems that your feelings for London should be unusual, right?

"...Mhm"

It seemed that the clerk had finally met a usual person and said in a low voice: "I wish I could go to London someday. I heard that there is a great Christmas atmosphere there. I don’t know if it’s true."

Page 6

In fact, in Li Zeyan’s opinion, Christmas in London is nothing more than something that people are familiar with, but it’s nothing special.

But just as he was thinking this way, a red phone booth suddenly jumped into his mind, just like what he was holding in his hand at the moment.

It was as if there was a snowy winter, he looked anxiously at the telephone booth near Big Ben, looking for the ‘her’ who held his heart.

Page 7

Li Zeyan was in a daze for a moment. The feeling of the sudden attack was so real, it made him feel completely empty, as if the snow in London had really drifted from memory to the present. Snow fell into his heart, making his heart fall and contracting in an instant.

When did he experience this memory? Who was the ‘she’ he was looking for?

He was shocked for only a few seconds, and the clerk did not care about his speechlessness but politely extended his hand: "Are you sure you want to buy this? I'll wrap it for you."

Page 8

Li Zeyan handed the keychain over. There was an unreasonable certainty in his subconscious: she would like this gift very much, because...

What is it for?

In front of the cashier, recalling his inexplicable and determined feeling just now, Li Zeyan looked at the little gift that the clerk was holding in his hand and carefully scanned the code.

Chapter 4

Page 1

The ‘Mid-Month Charity Sale Event’ finally kicked off the sale scene. The location of the opening event was set at the street park with the largest daily flow of people.

As the planner of this event, the girl came to the park early for the final inspection and preparations. Not long after, as the sponsor of the event, Li Zeyan also appeared at the Charity Sale Event and delivered an opening speech with the municipal staff.

"...Huarui is a company rooted in Lianyu City. It is the goal and code of conduct for Huarui to pay back this city that has given us warmth and support in various ways. Finally, I wish today’s charity sale a complete success, thank you."

Page 2

After a while, the charity sale officially began. The citizens who had seen the news on the internet enthusiastically gathered around the venue, and the scene was more lively than expected. As soon as Li Zeyan turned his head, he saw a proud smiling face, probably infected by her, and he also slightly raised the corners of his mouth.

Now that the activity has started smoothly and the reporter's on-site interviews are over, he intends to walk around in the park at will, and she naturally follows him. They didn't know that after turning a few paths, there is a forest with swaying branches in front of them. Accompanied by the soft sound of the rustle, the fragrance of the leaves and the smell of earth came to their face.

Page 3

It's rare to be able to walk away leisurely outside the annoyance of official business, they just stop and walked aimlessly, laughing and chatting casually.

It's strange to say that they didn't know each other for a long time, but the relationship between him and her was extraordinarily natural and comfortable from the beginning, as if they should be like this.

Sometimes he even feels unfamiliar, as if he had walked a lot with her a long time ago.

It also includes dense woods as they are now.

Page 4

The sudden phone call made her pouting. It seemed that there was something wrong with the Charity Sale Event. She patted her chest and said that she would be able to solve it, and hurried away confidently. Li Zeyan stared at her back, with a faint smile on his mouth, but somehow, he suddenly felt that the scene before him seemed familiar.

It seemed that at some time, he had also watched a slender figure from the back in the woods. And a sourness mixed with fatigue slowly condensed in his heart. In the vagueness, he vaguely felt that he seemed to have crossed thousands of mountains and rivers in confusion and anxiety, spanning an uncountable amount of time and space of light years, just to see this figure again.

Page 5

In the forest mist, he saw the back in front of him turned around, and the girl gently called out his name.

He also responded with a chuckle, and then tightened his grip on the girl's hand: "Dummy... it’s not name-calling it's confirmation."

"... Confirmation?"

But the forest mist blocked the girl's face, and he anxiously didn't know how to confirm it. At this moment, the wind in the woods suddenly blew, blowing away a corner of the mist.

There was no one in front of him.

Page 6

But when the fog disappeared, he heard a playful question. The girl asked, how did you find me afterwards?

Li Zeyan was stunned. He didn't remember what his answer was or whether he answered.

But subconsciously, a place appeared in his mind -Souvenir.

That seems to be where the answer opens.

Chapter 5

Page 1

With the ‘Closed’ sign in Souvenir, the brightly-lit dining room seemed to be empty, except for a slight noise from the kitchen.

In the spacious and clean kitchen, Li Zeyan is wearing a white apron, making pudding attentively. Pouring the boiled sugar juice into the pudding mold evenly, then pour the boiled milk on a low heat into the stirred egg mixture, stir evenly, and finally slowly pour the pudding into the pudding mold, and then put it in the baking pan.

Li Zeyan picked up the baking tray and put it into the oven. When the time and temperature were adjusted, the oven made a button sound, which was particularly clear in the quiet Souvenir. But Li Zeyan was leaning on the side of the table platform, but he was extremely calm. In Souvenir's back kitchen, he can always find the peace in that corner.

Page 2

Looking at the oven with the built-in light on, his eyes gradually moved farther and farther.

Those recent seemingly sudden and unattainable feelings are like a bunch of woolen threads scattered on the ground, but he never believes that all stories can always go to the source, and these woolen threads must be from a certain source. The person who could lead the other side along, a name had already surfaced in his heart.

Page 3

Messy thoughts thrashed in Li Zeyan's mind. For the first time, he decided to abandon the so-called rational analysis and chose to believe in his own heart. Because he later realized that in addition to the beating of the heart in his left chest, it turned out that there seemed to be inexplicable feelings and emotions.

"...ting!"

The oven makes a crisp sound, it should be the pudding. Li Zeyan stood up straight and was about to take it, but a slight footstep suddenly heard from the door. The owner of the name in his heart was walking towards him on high heels.

Page 4

She probably smelled the scent of pudding, she sniffed her nose and her eyes lit up. Holding a souvenir-like thing, she came to him in three or two steps, opened the box triumphantly, and then raised the small crystal lamp in front of him. The moment she turned the switch on the bottom, the orange starlight immediately appeared from the small crystal lamp.

Almost at the same time, a similar orange starlight was gradually awakening from his long memory. It seems that Souvenir is full of Christmas atmosphere. In the little light, a girl raises her head with a smile-

That face is so familiar.

Page 5

It turns out that the girl really exists in those vague memories that are not clear.

In the kitchen at this moment, the scent of pudding diffuses through the oven. Just as some distant but clear fragments are slowly rolling in.

Memory and reality, the past and the present, overlap closely. Li Zeyan stared at the smiling face in front of him that was dyed softer by the orange starlight.

________

#mr love queens choice #mr love queens choice victor #love and producer #rumors and secrets victor #love and producer li zeyan #李泽言

[obae-me]

The Demons Inside- Part 3

Part 1 (Lucifer)     Part 2 (Mammon) 

Word Count: 2185

Description: Levi’s Part of the request “The brothers reacting to an MC crying suddenly in front of them and then trying to act as if nothing happened”

Levi had been waiting for tonight. He’d been antsy about it for days, anticipating it so immensely, he was jittery. Although, it’s entirely possible his twitches and little shakes were thanks to the many energy drinks he had downed today. No matter. He needed to be fully awake and aware in the present. Today he would be spending every hour with the resident human. His Henry, MC. 

Envy had nearly driven him mad these past few weeks. MC had done nothing but spend seemingly every precious moment with one of his brothers. Everyone but him. And he knew why, it wasn’t hard to guess. Lucifer was perfect in every way. Mammon--despite his general scumminess--was fun to be around. Satan was vastly intelligent. Asmo was gorgeous and friendly. Beel was strong and supportive. Belphie was relatively calm and clever. And him? Well, he was an eccentric shut in. But despite all that, MC had made sure to hang out with him today, on a day where they both knew no one would be around to bother them. 

He jolted out of his frantic thoughts as soon as a knock could be heard from the door. Usually, he’d have his visitor answer, but he was aware of who it was, and he was so excited to get on with their activities he had no patience for his many passwords. Swinging the door open with quite a wild look in his eyes, MC appeared a bit startled. Levi, feeling embarrassment seep into his bones over his eagerness, had his face flush a bright red. Adjusting to his normal sheepish behavior let MC smile, holding up some grocery bags he could see were filled with a plethora of snacks and drinks. 

“Sorry I’m a bit late,” MC apologized as Levi held the door open for them to enter his room. “Not only did I buy some snacks, but I had to shoo away my chauffeur.” 

Levi shook his head, his long bangs threatening to cover his vision. His core sin threatened to burn at the thought of, again, any sibling other than himself hanging out with MC. Maybe he had wanted to go to the store to buy snacks, so why did MC not ask him? You hate the grocery store, you know that, he reprimanded himself. “No worries, it gave me time to clean my room a bit!” Levi pushed his intrusive thoughts to the back of his mind as he gestured proudly at his now immaculate room. Trash was devoid from the floor, old clothes were put in the laundry bin-- “And I even dusted off all my figures!” To prove his claim, he snatched a frilly figure off one of his many shelves, holding it out to MC as they observed it. 

They beamed at him, forcing a persistent flutter in Levi’s chest. “It looks great!” Levi noticed something lacking from their expression, like they seemed a bit drained. This urged him to take the items from them and shut his door before the human could think of leaving. Was that faded smile due to him? Had they not been looking forward to this as much as he had? Did they not want to be here? Panic made it hard for him to breathe, but he handled it as best as he could as he pulled up a second chair to his desk for the human to sit in. MC’s eyes flickered over his fancy monitors and equipment, slightly transfixed by all the pretty lights. 

“I’ve got lots of things planned, if that’s okay,” Levi told them, the confidence in his voice wavering. The last thing Levi wanted was for himself to blow this fun day with something stupid. 

They nodded to assure him, and while their smile might’ve still shown hints of something more, Levi’s panic melted away. “Of course! What’re we doing first?” 

Too giddy for words, he opened a game on his desktop, doing his best to explain the rules to MC as he handed them a controller. It was some kind of online fighting fantasy game, and while there were many like it, Levi promised that this was the best of the bunch. They both settled in, picking their characters. Without a second thought, Levi picked his; a bright colored female character with a glowing staff and too many bows on their clothes to be considered natural. 

“This is Luma, she’s my main! Who’re you choosing?” Levi squirmed in his seat, ready to get started. 

“I don’t know...there’s so many to select from...I’ll just pick someone random for now,” MC shrugged, clicking on the first character that caught their eye. Not wanting to waste any more time, Levi set up a lobby for their matches. 

Everything had gone fine...at first. Of course, MC kept dying, but Levi assured them it was their first time playing the game, and the character they had picked was set at a larger difficulty than others. The human nodded and pushed forward. The first match ended with MC getting no kills, stacking up the most deaths, and looking at Levi’s score in shame as the demon had racked up more K.O.s than any other player combined. 

MC laughed sheepishly, letting the controller settle languidly in their hands. “Guess I’m no good at this game.” 

A pang of something familiar flashed through their eyes, and Levi felt the pain. “Not true! Here, try this character, they’re ranged and a little op, so you’ll be just fine!” They started again, Levi bursting forward from the starting point, already landing a triple kill. Meanwhile, all MC got ten seconds away from base was a magical explosion to the face, killing them rather instantaneously. The further they went forward, the more MC’s shoulders slumped. The more they died, the more the fun light they had started with drained in their eyes. At one point, after MC had gotten nuked right after they respawned, their character stopped moving. Levi glanced to the side, watching as MC placed the controller away from them on his desk as they used their hands to cover tears starting to drift down their face. 

Panic flared in his chest again, his skin prickling. He practically threw his own controller away from him, turning in his fancy gaming chair as he placed his hands on their knees. “What?! What happened? What did I do? Oh no, you hate me now, right?” As they sniffled and sobbed, his lungs felt themselves shrink smaller and smaller, air struggling to get in. The match ended, and before it could automatically have them play again, he turned to the screen to leave the lobby. Fumbling with the cursor, he ended up closing the game altogether instead of trying to remember where the Leave Match button was. Swiveling back to look at the human, he blinked in confusion when their eyes were dry and their grin was fully repainted on their lips. 

“MC? But you were--” 

“--Oh, it was nothing, I had an eyelash in my eye. Want more snacks?” They interrupted him as well as quickly changing the subject. They lied to him, right to his face. Something was up, and yet they would rather do anything else than tell him. Despair overtook his thoughts as MC refused to look at him, opting instead to reach for a bag of puffy chips. 

Speaking low, the demon of envy clutched the fabric over his heart as he felt it breaking. “You can’t stand me now, is that it?” Levi brought his arm up to cover his eyes as his mind swirled in dark reasoning, coming to the wrong conclusions out of self-depreciation. “You didn’t even want to hang out with me in the first place?! You came to my room out of pity?! You’re so ashamed to be with me you had to cry?!” His demon form slid into view, his tail slinking against the cold tiles of his floor. Hot salty drops of tears streamed down his own cheeks, his fingers moving up to wrap themselves in his hair as his Envy began to spiral out of control. “Of course you’d rather be with my brothers, of course. Why would you want to hang out with someone like me when...when…” 

“When you’re a demon? When you’re a powerful ruler of hell? When you have extraordinary powers?!” Levi lowered his hands and opened his eyes at MC’s escalating volume. Their lip quivered, the bag of snacks fell from their grasp, now abandoned on the floor. “These past few weeks since I’ve been hanging out with your brothers really just drove home how...useless I am. I’ll never be as put-together as Lucifer. I’ll never be as cool as Mammon. I’ll never be as smart as Satan, as pretty as Asmo, as strong as Beel, as witty as Belphie. And I--and I thought maybe hanging out with you would make me feel better but--” Their voice cracked, resulting in the demon nearly flinching as the pain in their voice almost physically hurt him. He expected them to list the many reasons they couldn’t stand to be around him, how he had done everything wrong. Expecting the worst, he curled up in his seat. “But I can’t even play a game correctly...I can’t do anything...I just wanted to be fun like you…” 

He had seen so many shows and anime, read so many perfect fantasy romance novels, played so many dating games, he knew exactly what to do. He’d wrap them into his arms and say some gushy poetic speech that would make sparks fly and every bit of doubt in each of them flow away. And yet...all he could bring himself to say was, “H--huh??” A few lingering tear droplets let themselves drift down his face as he attempted to process the words he had just heard. They both sat in a painful silence for a moment, both blubbering messes, both ashamed to be looked at by the other. But as Levi finally comprehended what MC had told him, he began to laugh. “You were envious of me?!” Falling into a giggle fit, MC stared at him, jaw agape. “I was worried that--that you thought I wasn’t good enough for you!” 

MC briefly wondered if they had broken him. “But you’re a powerful demon!” 

“You’re an amazing human! You watched me dance in cosplay for four hours the other day!” The mental image of the situation bubbled in MC’s brain, causing their tears to transform into laughter alongside Levi. The two of them chuckled uncontrollably, drying their cheeks, thankful they were alone in the room, far from judging eyes. 

“You made a cute magical girl,” MC grinned, no malice or intent to harm behind the teasing words. “But...I still don’t see how you can possibly think I’m amazing. I have little talent, no grand prospects for my future, no powers to speak off, a plain personality, and I have the obvious penchant for crying over silly things.” 

Biting his lip, Levi slid his own chair closer to theirs, the armrests brushing side by side. “Umm...well...the--the way I see it, you have things that are almost impossible for demons to have. Compassion, empathy, an open mind, it takes a lot of effort for demons to feel those things. It’s something that is rare to find in any living being nowadays, except for maybe angels, but even then you’ve heard Luke’s opinions on demons. Angels do like to condemn. I don’t know what’s typical in the human world but you seem rather extraordinary to me.” Taking a deep breath, he gently used his thumb to wipe away the last stray tear on the human’s face. With a single finger, he rubbed absentminded circles into MC’s knee. “Anyone different would’ve taken one look at my brothers and I and ran away as fast as they could...and yet you stayed. We’ve done everything we can to push you away, and yet you never gave up on us...on me...You’re wonderful, more than I could ask for, I--” He cut himself off, cheeks burning red as he bit his tongue to stop himself from speaking. He’d almost let something embarrassing slip. Racking his brain for something else to say, he felt the tips of his ears start to burn as MC grabbed his hand and let it settle in their palm. “I don’t think,” Levi blurted, recalling and nearly quoting a line from a Ruri-Chan anime, “that worth is defined by power and popularity. I like you just the way you are, isn’t that enough?” 

MC initiated it first, almost fully sliding into his lap as they moved from their chair into his to hug him. To prevent them from falling since his seat was only made for one person, he wrapped his arms tightly around their waist.  Both of them felt the heat and warmth from one another. It made Levi want to melt and yet explode at the same time. MC pulled him close, his face pressed against their shoulder. “Thank you, Levi.” 

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me levi #obey me levi x mc #obey me levi x reader

[cloudninetonine]

Follow the light

Chapter 1

Synopsis: A Genshin impact/Avatar x fem!reader

A/N: INSTANT SECOND CHAPTER. Also, some stuff from my previous post about this crossover is probs gonna change

I do not own the Genshin Impact or Avatar franchise

Warnings

“Let’s try it again”

Nodding, you took a deep breath, focusing yourself on your actions as you began to move. 

Light on your feet, just like the leaf, if you meet resistance, you must be able to spiral away at a moment’s notice, move like the wind, move like you’re free.

Tsering had practically drilled that into you when you began to learn airbending. ‘It was a must’, she had told you, sending a blast of wind into the the spinning death trap- I mean, into the spinning gates, ‘if you are to be the Avatar you must know how to air bend, even if your power is just that of an average bender as of now’

She was right, of course, but the thought of helping restore Raava’s power and find your brother itched at your mind constantly, kept you awake at night as you practiced your moves, occupied your thoughts when you ate, never had you been so desperate to leave the temple.

Despite that, the thought of leaving these people caused your chest to burn, like you had been stabbed right in the heart with the intent to kill. These people had become family to you, on level with your brother, they cared for you and you cared for them, so you knew when it finally came time to leave, which if you were correct, would be a few days from now, you would shed tears.

You would be alone and it scared you.

“Much better” Tsering clapped, as did the other four nuns, the leading nuns, when you finally ceased, bright smile on your face “You’re improving every day, I’d say you could become a master in just a few more years”

You placed your hands behind you back, rocking on your heels “Would I be able to get my tattoos if I did?”

She smiled back “Of course, you’re considered a nomad after all”

A familiar squeaky voice piped up from your left “Paimon thinks you could improve in your stance”

You sent Paimon the stink eye “You can’t even bend, elf”

“Excuse you! Paimon doesn’t need to bend to know you’re stance stinks-”

“Alright you two, no need to fight” Another nun, Nun Palmo laughed, “(Name), you are dismissed, remember to keep training and if you need help, you only need to ask”

With a ‘thank you!’ and quick bow, you headed off with Paimon for your daily walk around the temple.

“Paimon was only joking earlier, you’ve really improved, your bending was pretty flawless! Though, Paimon noticed that you looked a bit distracted, is everything okay?”

Paimon, the ever so observant, when food wasn’t involved, or when she wasn’t talking, or when she was just...herself. The spirit seemed to know you well enough to notice the shift in your attitude as you bent, mind fogged up over other matters that you didn’t need to think about at that moment.

“Yes, Pai, I’m fine, it’s just…” You searched for the words “I’m starting my journey in a few days and I know Raava is here with me but...I’m going to be alone when I travel so I’m nervous. I’ve never travelled by myself before, my brother’s always been with me so….”

A sigh fell from your lips. “It’s stupid-”

“No it isn’t!” Paimon leaned in close, shaking her fists in exaggeration “Being alone is a big deal! Paimon knows from experience that it sucks being by yourself, so, Paimon’s decided to accompany you on your journey! She am a spirit of guidance after all!”

Your head snapped towards her “Wait...seriously?”

“Seriously!”

The grin that spread across your face was contagious, the spirit mirroring your expression as you hugged her tightly, both of you laughing. “Thank you, Paimon, thank you!”

“No need for thanks!....Actually, keep it coming”

Your heart filled with warmth.

You wouldn’t be alone.

The day came faster than you had expected. As cheesy as it sounded, it had only felt like yesterday when Raava had first spoken with you and the two of you had merged, but it had been just over four months with air bending training being a subject for every single day. A mix of grueling and fun, because learning how to fly using a glider brought you back to earlier days with your wings, but getting your arse kicked by spinning gates, falling from far heights when you mess up your bending- not as fun.

A sort of leaving party had been held the night before, a great buffet for you hard work and just fun games to play with your newly aquired airbending skills. (Tsering had beaten you 5 against 1 in Airball and even then, you were sure she had given you the last one out of pity)

You were changed in your older clothes this time, pulling on your gloves and boots, looking yourself in the mirror in your room the last time. It was weird, seeing yourself in your travelling attire when for the past few years you had been dressed in the familiar orange, yellow and reds of air culture, it only further settled as a reminder that you were leaving today.

You had successfully held back the tears till this point.

“(Name)” Glancing towards your door, Tsering stood with her hands clasped together, a small smile on her beautiful features “Are you ready?”

“Uh, yes!” Fumbling for your bag, you made your way over “I’m- I’m ready”

“Good, but before that” Pulling something from behind her back, she presented it to you “You earned this”

Sat within her palms was an airbending staff, accompanied by your familiar red sash that you supported on your clothes previous. You stood in awe as the elder airbender tied the sash around you, tightening it gently before grasping your cheek, stroking it softly with her thumb. “I will miss you, (Name)”

Tears finally pushed through, eyes glazing over as you engulfed the woman in a tight hug, face shoved into her chest. “I’ll miss you too, Tsering”

Ten minutes later, you were heading towards the bison, specifically your bison, one you had befriended by accident and now considered one of your lifelong pals. You hadn’t meant to bond with him, only airbenders received bison, but you had stumbled upon the ordeal when exploring and he just didn’t seem to care about anyone else. Tsering had let you have him without much argument and smiled when you named him Viator, something she didn’t quite understand back then but now was a completely different story.

“Food has been packed for you, along with water, spare clothes and other necessities” Paimon was already sitting upon Viator’s back, munching on what you guessed was something from breakfast, when you jumped onto the bison’s head, stroking through his fur with love. “Be safe, (Name) and please know, you may return whenever you wish”

“Thank you, Tsering. Thank you everyone, you showed me kindness for all these years and treated me as one of your own. I’ll miss you all so much but I promise I will come back” With a commanding ‘Yip, yip’ Viator had pushed himself off the ground “Farewell everyone!”

The younger airbender girls screamed their goodbyes, waving their hands wildly while the older nuns bowed, sending waves once you began to disappear West, towards the mainland of Teyvat.

Finally, your journey began.

-----

“Look, there it is!”

It had taken an entire day, much faster than you had originally expected and you couldn’t have been more grateful for the existence of sky bison. 

From your point, you could see giant cliffs, a small, sandy bay sat beneath them with a path that led deeper into the mainland, your bison following it when you finally hit the shoreline.

“Did Raava say anything about the statues, like, how to even get the power in the first place?”

You shook your head “No, so I’ll just have to see once we find one- woah”

It had taken only five minute to reach a clearing and boy, was it a sight to behold. Cliffs surrounded the area in a crescent shape, the valley holding a plethora of beautiful trees ranging from the famous forest green to autumn time orange. Beyond it stood a city of stone, laid within a sparkling blue lake, Mondstadt you believed. Dead center sat a small isle within the valley, containing just the thing you were looking for.

“That was quick”

Viator grew closer, groaning when you called ‘Yip, yip!’ to drop the lot of you onto the tiny piece of land, Paimon clapping her hands excitedly.

“Oh!” She cried in delight “That’s the statue of the Anemo Archon, Barbatos! He’s the spirit of Air!”

Floating down, you jogged up the statue with your companion following behind, eyeing the tall structure with intrigued eyes when you finally stood before it, glancing around it briefly before Paimon spoke up.

“What now?”

You shrugged “I...touch it?”

“Paimon..agrees?”

Delicate hands reached out, brushing against the golden plaque molded into the botton of the monument when a beautiful glow was produced from the carved diamond patterns, both you and Paimon gasping in surprise as a heavenly sounded resonated through the area, the glow winding up the statue and forming into a beautiful light orb within the hands of the figure head. Slowly, the ball floated down towards you, like a leaf in the wind, then flew into your chest, a feeling of weightlessness flowing through your entire being.

You glanced over yourself.

“Was...that it?”

Paimon huffed “You know, that’s kind of rude to say about the power the Archon just gave you!”

“I didn’t mean it like that-”

A brilliant light flashed before your eyes, blinding you, the whole surrounding scene blurring away. You threw your hands over your face, protecting yourself from the harsh brightness when it faded as soon as it came, the sound of nature that once encircled you now replaced with a deafening silence.

“(Name)”

You turned towards the voice, smiling “Raava”

The spirit flew towards you, you once again lending your hand out only to notice the slight difference within the being.

“You’re bigger” You noted in excitement, watching her wind up your arm “Have I already restored some of your power that fast? If so, this’ll be easy-peasy”

“You mustn't underestimate this journey, (Name)” She spoke with a wisdom that you hadn’t experienced for what felt like lifetimes, your body straightening up in response to her tone “We have only just begun and the road will only grow more treacherous as we push forward. Not everyone will be so supporting in our quest”

A sigh escaped you “Yeah, you’re right, nothing is ever that easy. I wish we had more help though”

“You are not alone in this, (Name)”

“I know, I’ve got you, Pai, Viator-”

“That is not what I meant”

The noise of confusion you made was cut short at the sound of….wind? It grew louder with it second, until the whisper because a magnificent howl, collecting around the two of you before bursting outwards, forms of multiple figures appearing from the darkness.

“Air nomads?” You glanced around at them all “Wait, not just air nomads”

“No, each is an air nomad in their own right” The multiple air nomads eyes snapped opening, revealing a familiar white glow “Not every nomad is in touch with their culture, some fade away, whether that be from their own choice or anothers, while others stick with air custom”

It hit you.

“Past air nation Avatars….” There were so many, you couldn’t keep count! They even faded into the far distance of this mind space! You had known there had been plenty of Avatars but seeing this much was just...wow “But, I don’t get it, the Avatar cycle was destroyed. Wouldn’t the Avatars have vanished? Like in that Water tribe….Korra, like in Korra’s era”

But then again, Tsering had told you that the following Avatar, an Earth Kingdom boy named Genji you believed, had somehow restored the previous Avatars despite the new cycle. No one ever found out how, but no one really cared, they were just grateful for the Avatar.

“I, as well, am not sure why they are returning” The spirit glanced around before facing you once again, sliding further up to reach eye level “Perhaps it is our connection? Your own spirit? Or maybe it is just luck that they return, but they will help you in your journey, they will be your guides alongside me”

You grinned “Good to know I have more backup”

“(Name)!!!!”

The voice of Paimon echoed around you, concern evident in her voice and you glanced around, trying to find her.

“It is time for you to return, but you can always find us again”

The world around you began to fade, the past avatars disappearing within the darkness along with the spirit.

Paimon sighed in relief when the glow finally dissipated from your eyes, you blinking a few times then glanced towards her with an apologetic smile.

“You can’t just go all Avatar on Paimon like that!” She chided like a mother, waggling her finger at you “Paimon wasn’t sure if what happened was worrying or not!”

“Sorry, Pai, didn’t mean to worry you”

She huffed, floating back to Viator “Let’s just continue on, Paimon thinks we should head over into Mondstadt!”

You hopped onto your bison, patting his head “Why, Mondstadt?”

“It’s the city of Wind of course! Poetry and language flow like the wind, so there must be someone who knows about your brother! At least that what’s Paimon thinks”

“Sounds like a good start, yip- huh?!”

A large shadow cast over you, a bellious roar sounding through the valley, deep, thunderous and strong. Glancing upwards, you both watched as a giant creature, with beautiful blue fathers flew overhead, aimed towards the heart of the forest that laid ahead.

“What was that?!” You cried as Viator groaned in alarm, Paimon looking as spooked as you felt “Paimon!?”

“A dragon! We’ve gotta be careful!”

Dragon? What a weird dragon indeed. You had seen quite a few in your lifetime, exploring different worlds with your brother meant you got to experience a whole lot of different things, dragons were no exception. They differed in different worlds, some violent, some passive, some young and naive some old and wise, but one thing that tended to stay the same was that their appetite was a meaty one and when you glanced down at Viator, you decided to take a cautious step for your furry companion.

“Paimon, stay here with Viator” Opening up your staff, you hopped off your animal and flew in the direction of the forest. Your friend called after you, voice high with panic as she begged you to come back, but you weren’t listening, no, you were focused on keeping the people close to you safe, even if that meant fighting a dragon, which you knew for certain you weren’t ready for.

The forest was practically silent compared to the valley. The sound of life that played within the sun had dimmed with the looming trees of oak, muffling the wind that blew through the perfect path that had been carved through the nature with perfect precision, it’s goal on leading to Mondstadt clear with each tentative step you took that lead to where you had seen the great beast land.

‘I wish I had my sword’ Such words shouldn’t come to a nomad, you knew that to be true, but you had lived through battle after battle with your brother for so long, the weight of the blade, the leather of it’s handle, it had been burned into the skin of your hand many times ago. Guilt boiled within you during your years with the nuns, how could you think of fighting while surrounded by such peaceful people? But then again, you could take a warrior from war, but not war from a warrior.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s alright now, I’m back”

You pushed your back against the nearest tree, glancing around it’s wide trunk at the scene.

The dragon was great, indeed. Coloured in an array of blues, from aquatic to deep ocean, feathers and furs adorned it’s body, tipping the tail, decorating it’s wings, lining it’s belly but ended at it’s claws, replaced with silvery scales that reflected the light of the day. From it’s back, however, protruded two tainted purple crystals, that you could sense, all the way from your hidden spot, held nothing but a dark energy that made your skin crawl. The creature’s sheer size was intimidating enough, especially compared to the boy who stood before it, but those crystals- wait.

Only then did you finally notice, too focused on the dragon to see the small male who held his hands out towards it. Sure, you had heard the voice earlier, but the blue beast’s appearance had overshadowed it, though now, you saw him, clear as day and your thoughts screamed about how such a small, fragile looking human could stand tall before such an intimidating animal-

A shout echoed through the forest, a familiar high shout that made you groan inwardly when the dragon let out an ear piercing shriek, swiping towards the boy only for him to jump back to your relief, snapping his head towards you direction, then disappear in a flashing light, the dragon leaving along with him into the sky with a final roar for extra effect.

You glared back at Paimon, panicked stricken face frozen in terror atop Viator’s head, who had tucked into himself at the appearance of the other animal.

“Really, Paimon?!” Running over, you soothed your bison softly “I told you to stay put! What if that dragon attacked?!”

“Paimon- uh- Paimon….” The spirit stumbled over her words for a few moments, when she noticed something within the short distance of where the dragon had been perched “What’s that?”

On closer inspection, it appeared to be a floating crystal, shaped eerily similar to a teardrop which glowed a crimson red, screaming an aura of negativity and…

“Sorrow” You hesitated when you reached out, but ultimately grasped it between your fingers gently “You can feel it right? That sorrow from it?”

“Yeah, almost like spiritual energy but just...sad, really sad” Frowning, Paimon turned towards you “Paimon feels kinda sad now too”

“Yeah, me too”

A cloth emerged from your pocket with a tug, the crimson glow disappearing under the raggedy brown of the material as you wrapped it carefully before stuffing it a bag on Viator’s back.

“Take care of this, will you bud?”

The animal groaned.

“Thanks”

Hopping down, you grasped Viator’s reins and continued down the dirt path.

“So, Mondstadt?”

It didn’t take long to reach the end of the woodland’s winding path. The once dense forestry parting way to a clear road to that great city that stood proud a few acres away, towering cliffs decorating your left for quite a way while to your right laid the beautiful crystal blue waves of what Paimon called Lake Cider.

A strange name, you had to admit, but your spirit friend’s explanation of the city’s famous winery industry only seemed to make it fit.

“-If we ask around, we’ll find some information! Oh, this city is famous for bards! So we can definitely-”

“Hey, you! Stop right there!”

Another threat?

Caution was thrown into the wind and you raced into action, pulling forth your staff in a defensive stance and ready to protect your companions with every last inch of you. Viator seemed to feel the same, as his large frame grew closer to you, towering in size with a guttural growl that even shook you slightly, bearing giant teeth.

Paimon merely fell behind, cowering away nervously.

‘Wow, thanks a lot Pai-’

A figure flew overhead, leaping off one of the shorter cliff sides and descending down to the dirt before you, rolling for safety then bouncing back up on their feet.

Long, dark brown hair, lively golden eyes, fair skin and covered head to toe in red.

Fire nation perhaps? Nun Tsering did say that descendants were fond of the colour.

“May the Anemo archon protect your stanger-...” She started, face kind but guarded until she fell upon your sash and bison “Ah! You’re an Air nomad! I am so sorry!”

Then she bowed, deep and apologetic and you sent Paimon a side eyed glance when she floated back to your side.

“Mondstadt is the city of wind and considered air nation territory” She whispered, “Monks and Nuns are highly respected, well, everywhere, but much higher here. You’re basically considered royalty”

You nodded in understanding before approaching the girl “Hey, it’s okay! It was an honest mistake! What’s your name? Mine’s (Name). This is my spirit guide, Paimon and my bison, Viator”

The younger woman bounced back up, narrowingly missing your head with her own while she stumbled over herself, finally findinger her words as she saluted (?) towards you all, forming a fist on her chest then being thrown outside, hand flattening by her side “Yes, of course! I am Amber, Outrider for the Knights of Favonius. I would like to personally welcome you to Mondstadt, dear Nun and once again apologise for my rude approach”

“Like I said, it was just a mistake!” Laughing, you bowed “It’s nice to meet you, Amber”

Amber paused for a moment, eyes wide then bowed in return “Likewise, Nun (Name)”

“You don’t need to call me that! I’m only a...nun-in-training, really, so, (Name) is just fine”

“Are you sure? It seems impolite to call you that, even if you’re only in training!”

From the sidelines, Paimon smiled.

The spirit had been informed by Nun Tsering of your inner conflict when you had first stumbled into this world. How hard it had been to open up, how you had struggled to interact with the others nuns, always so closed off and scared, the festering feeling of abandonment brewing a deep rooted fear of interaction, lest any person you may come across would be the next to leave you in the dust, by their own will or not.

When Paimon had first arrived, you had still struggled with that fear, even now if was still visible, if you looked close enough, but she knew she didn’t have to worry as much now, you were doing so much better and seeing you grow more confident made pride bloom in her chest, where her heart would be if she were human.

“Please-” Amber gestured over to Mondstadt, “Allow me to escort you to our city”

“Are you sure? If you’re a knight, you’re probably out here for a reason and I don’t want to get in the way of that”

“Not to worry, my duties have been fulfilled for today, so taking you to Mondstadt wouldn’t be much trouble”

With a smile, you nodded and off your little group ventured.

The walk to the city wasn’t long, no, only 5 minutes at least, filled with friendly chit chatter between you, Amber and Paimon, your bison huffing for your attention like he usually loved to do when your focus shifted. The knight looked ecstatic when you offered her a ride some time, bouncing up and down excitedly then engulfing the beast in a hug.

You liked her attitude, her excitement. It reminded you of simpler times and on a more somber note, of Aether. He always was kinda like the sun, even when you two bickered like normal siblings did, he kept on that lightened aura that just kept you from staying mad at him, a smile surfacing on your face while he cheered in accomplishment, a small tease of ‘You know you love me!’ before you smacked him right around the head and your famous fist fights ensued, the ones you always won.

You missed your squabbles, you his light, you missed him, but you had to remind yourself that this was the start of your journey to finding your brother and you would be reunited one day.

The guards bowed when you finally entered the city, as did the seemingly grumpy blacksmith you passed, the flower girl, the adventure guild receptionist, the jeweller- everyone and you did the polite thing of bowing back.

“You’re attracting quite the crowd already!” Amber laughed, the many citizens watching your group with wide gazes “It’s only natural though, I’m sure Paimon’s already told you that Nun and Monks are regarded highly in the city of wind!”

“Yup! Paimon made sure it was the first thing she knew!” You were positive the spirit ignored your stink eye, “So, who do we speak with about missing person posters?”

“Well, it’s best to speak with Master Jean, if you come with me I’ll show you the way! Here, I’ll give you a little tour around too!”

“That sounds great!” You glanced back to Viator, who stood patiently beyond the gates and watched you with soft eyes. “Stay here, bud! I’ll come back soon- and with some hay!”

The great beast groaned, waddling off somewhere beyond the gate and leaving the three of you to wander deeper into the city.

With each step you took, you felt as though you were being watched with the familiar sensation of eyes pinpointed onto you, though, it seemed... unwelcoming, their stare burning holes into your form. For a moment you glanced around, Amber and Paimon too distracted with talking to notice your focus shift. It didn’t take long to find the perpetrator, a man with long red locks, a few yards away, glaring at you with arms crossed.

You noted to yourself to look for the man later.

“Hey, isn’t that Barbatos?” Gaze shifting once again, your look upon the grande statue before Mondstadt’s church, a figure akin to an angel with long robes, wings and hands out, cupped towards the sky “You know, Paimon remembers him wearing less clothes”

The knight shared a disturbed look with you.

You didn’t really need that mental image.

“The headquarters is right over here-”

There was an instant shift in the air. 

The sky darkened with malicious grey clouds, hiding away the bright summer’s sun and replacing it with only a layer of doom, the wind picking up harsher undertones.

“The sky…”

There it was again. 

The dragon from the Whispering Woods.

It raced towards the city, circling it’s borders ominously while growling a thunderous and threatening growl before erupting into a blood curdling screech, the noise bringing forth a miniature cyclone along with powerful tornadoes. 

The people of the city screamed in fear, rushing around to escape the attack, parents crying for children, knights ordering for citizens to take cover, animals yowling out their own grievances, utter chaos reigned and you felt panic at the thought of Viator alone, waiting for you patiently where you left him.

“I have to go get Viator!” You were already sprinting back to the gates “I can’t leave him alone like this!”

Amber raced after you.

How had this happened so fast? And why when you had just arrived? What was going!? Only moments ago you were touring the city towards the Knights of Favonius headquarters and now this!

“Paimon thinks that the tornado is getting too close!” She was right, it was practically on your heels! “Hurry! Or we’ll get caught up!”

If only it had been that easy.

Amber had tried, you had seen her panic as you felt the pull of the powerful wind current begin to drag you closer, she had reached out, grabbing your staff with strength only adrenaline could cause, trying hard to keep you grounded but you could see it was for naught, as her feet slipped against the stone and the fear she would also get sucked in plagued you.

You made a rash, last minute decision.

“Get Viator!” Her eyes met yours “And take care of my staff!”

You let go and watched her horrified face as you were sucked into the winding wind.

It was terrifying, you had no idea what way was up and what way was down, left was right and right was left. Paimon was screaming, something you couldn’t hear in your throat crushing fear, curled into a ball and eyes shut tightly, hoping for it to end soon. If only you had your wings, if only Aether was here, if only...

“Ravaa” Your own whimpering could not be heard beyond the screaming of the wind, but you begged that the spirit still heard you. “Please, I’m scared”

A beat passed.

The wind still roared.

Another beat passed.

The screams of citizens still echoed through Mondstadt.

Then another.

And your eyes snapped open, glowing a brilliant white.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact paimon #genshin impact amber #traveler!reader

[gusu-emilu]

Wangxian: The Autumn Chrysanthemum

Post-Canon, Rated G, 1.5k - read on AO3

Background Info: The Chongyang Festival, or the Double Ninth Festival, is a lucky date for longevity, celebrated with customs such as climbing mountains and drinking chrysanthemum wine. The word for 'nine,' jiu, sounds like the word for 'long (time),' creating a link between the meanings.

* * *

Wei Ying raised the jar of liquor to his lips. The sweet, floral liquid swirled inside him, sending a rush of heat, then coolness through his chest. A small, sticky dribble slid down to his chin. He wiped it off.

“The chrysanthemum wine is good,” Wei Ying said. “Very rich.”

He turned to the man beside him. The sight of the gentle curves of his face, his tall, steady frame draped with light blue robes—this image filled Wei Ying with warmth that met the unique coolness of the flower’s liquor, the currents flowing into each other and relaxing his entire body.

He smiled. “Lan Zhan, do you remember the first time we shared a drink?”

Lan Zhan stirred a bit. His lashes lowered as he glanced toward Wei Ying’s feet, raised as their eyes met for a brief moment. Then he looked back out to the landscape stretching before them, a vast green valley beneath the mountain they had climbed, dots of the autumn’s scarlet and golden colors reflecting in his eyes.

“I remember that you used a talisman to coerce me.”

Wei Ying choked on the wine a bit, until his coughing melted into a syrupy chuckle. “Of all things you could’ve chosen to reminisce about, you had to pick that.” He drew in a breath of crisp air and sighed. “Why must you incriminate me so? Tell me that you secretly felt exhilarated by breaking the rules, or that you wished you had let me play with your headband, or that you liked calling me Wei-gege. Don’t leave me to say all the sappy memories myself.”

A flock of geese flew overhead, their wings stroking the morning sun and blending with the sound of the mountain breeze.

“All these things, I remember fondly,” Lan Zhan said.

“So do I.” Wei Ying swirled the jar of liquor, watched the pale, honey-colored liquid encircle itself. “You know, the Chongyang Festival is the only time I would drink chrysanthemum wine over Emperor’s Smile.” He shot a grin at Lan Zhan. “Otherwise, I would always prefer this one splendor I know from Gusu.”

The corners of Lan Zhan’s mouth crept upward. “Flattery will not bring you more to drink.”

“Aiya, you see right through me.” In one swift movement, he locked arms with Lan Zhan and nuzzled his cheek into Lan Zhan’s shoulder. Lan Zhan’s breath slowed, a comfortable swell against him. “I already have too much of one certain splendor from Gusu. Better not to have more.”

Lil’ Apple hummed quietly behind them. The donkey was tired after long months of wandering with Wei Ying, until finally meeting with Lan Zhan at the halfway point to Gusu. And actually, Wei Ying was tired too, for they had only returned from their travels a few days ago.

He sank deeper into Lan Zhan’s side.

“When I was traveling with Lil’ Apple, I kept dreaming about our days in the Cloud Recesses. I…I miss it. Back then. How we were all so young. Not even as old as A-Yuan is now.” He lifted the jar up to eye level and shook his head at it. “You know, I think this wine is making me a little too nostalgic.”

Lan Zhan’s arm softened in Wei Ying’s hold. “Chrysanthemum blooms in autumn when other blossoms are fading.” He tilted his chin up slightly, looking out over the trees changing colors in the valley. “Naturally, upon drinking, one would remember moments passed.”

“Mm, you’re right.” Wei Ying lifted his head from Lan Zhan’s shoulder to join him in admiring the scenery. “I shouldn’t forget the meaning of Chongyang, should I?”

“Jiu yue, jiu ri,” Lan Zhan said.

“The ninth day of the ninth month.” Wei Ying waved the jar farther out in front of them, lifting it higher, as if offering it to the valley. He called out loudly like a proclamation. “Two nines—two jiu’s—two long times—just like the two long lives we will share together!”

He smiled, his eyelids feeling heavier as he lowered the jar and leaned against Lan Zhan once more.

“I am happy you have returned,” Lan Zhan said, his voice quivering a bit, like a pond suddenly overcome with ripples at the final entrance of a skipping stone. “Wherever your future takes you, I am happy for it.”

Lan Zhan had never been one to repeat himself. But this sentiment, he had said more than once in the days since Wei Ying returned from his travels, always with that slight tone of turbulence. Listening to these words might have done more to move the soul than drinking chrysanthemum wine.

“Lan Zhan,” Wei Ying chided. “My future takes me to you, and nowhere else.”

A warm stillness spread through them, passing from one man to the other through their intertwined arms.

“You’ll have to help me with that, though,” Wei Ying added. “I need to build up Mo Xuanyu’s golden core so I can cultivate to immortality with you.” He chuckled. “Who would’ve thought that after everything, I’d wind up as a student at the Cloud Recesses yet again?”

Lan Zhan’s bangs blew in the breeze, waving gently over his cheeks. “At last, you come back to Gusu with me.”

Comfort bubbled inside Wei Ying at those words. He let it fill the cavern of longing that time had dug deeper and deeper into him.

“I am. I am so, so glad to come back to Gusu with you.”

They watched the morning sun rise higher over the valley. A splotch of golden color from a small field of chrysanthemums lay below them, glowing brighter, almost caramelizing, as the sun’s rays strengthened.

“Have you heard of the poet Tao Yuanming?” Wei Ying asked.

“Tell me.”

Wei Ying paused, suspicious that Lan Zhan knew of the poet already and was just pretending. But perhaps he would be content to listen anyway.

“Well, he wrote a lot about the beauty of chrysanthemums. He appreciated their noble nature, their power for healing.” Wei Ying swirled the jar of wine again. “He was a lot like me, really.”

“You have written chrysanthemum poetry?” Lan Zhan said with a small smirk.

Wei Ying laughed sheepishly. “Ah, no, no, I haven’t. Sorry to disappoint.”

Lan Zhan gave him a fond look that said, I know. Continue.

“Okay, let’s see.” Wei Ying stroked his chin, making a show of thoughtfulness. “As Tao Yuanming was growing up, he was surrounded by hardship. Clans were fighting with each other, overthrowing each other, wreaking violence and betrayal at every turn.

“He joined the civil service to help his people, but all he met was hypocrisy. Scheming, thievery, wars.

“Then, his sister died.”

Lan Zhan’s frame grew tense, as did Wei Ying’s own body.

“The death of his sister was too much for him, and the government officials had only ever abused his good intentions, so he decided to flee public life. He went to the countryside to become a meager farmer, and started a new family.

“Generals came by and asked him to rejoin the civil service, but he refused. He could not compromise his principles by returning to that world. Instead, he lived in poverty, for the single richness in his life was the ability to admire nature and write of its beauties.

“Sometimes he felt lonely.”

Wei Ying breathed in the mountain air, along with the calming scent of tea leaves and pine. This scent usually filled the Cloud Recesses, but now it hung from Lan Zhan beside him, steadying him.

“However, there was a visitor who would come to Tao Yuanming’s farm. This visitor would bring him liquor, and simply sit with him, enjoying his company.”

The faint surface of a low wooden table seemed to grow in the space between them, the chatter of guests at a restaurant, the sting of spicy peppers on soft tongues, the crinkling sound of A-Yuan playing with a toy butterfly.

“So Tao Yuanming grew fond of liquor, and he drank it in front of the chrysanthemum blossoms. He found peace and gratitude where one would have thought he had nothing.”

Having concluded the story, Wei Ying looked to his side.

After a long silence, Lan Zhan said, “In these things there lies a deep meaning. Yet when we would express it, words suddenly fail us.”

“Wow!” Wei Ying’s eyes widened, and a grin spread across his face. “So profound! You should be a poet like Tao Yuanming, Lan Zhan.”

A terse, barely-audible huff escaped Lan Zhan. “You speak highly of the artist, yet do not recognize his words.”

“That’s Tao Yuanming’s poetry?”

Lan Zhan’s only answer was to gaze back onto the sunny valley, an air of amusement floating in the breeze around him.

“Oh, well. I suppose that’s what I get for trying to impress you.” Wei Ying took another sip of liquor, felt its heat and coolness rush through him.

“Here, you can have the last bit.” He held the jar up to Lan Zhan’s lips. “Hanguang-Jun should drink the chrysanthemum wine of the Chongyang Festival, so he has a long life with me.”

Lan Zhan’s eyes twinkled, the same golden color as the wine.

Wei Ying tipped the jar of wine between Lan Zhan’s lips. Then he placed his own lips on Lan Zhan’s to savor the chrysanthemums a little longer.

* * *

What is there I can do to assuage this mood? Only enjoy myself drinking my unstrained wine. I do not know about a thousand years, Rather let me make this morning last forever.

-Tao Yuanming, "Written on the Ninth Day of the Ninth Month"

* * *

If you enjoyed this story, you can be a supportive sibling like Jiang Yanli by visiting me on AO3!

I am not of Chinese descent, so feel free to inform me of any cultural missteps.

#i wrote this so long ago and forgot to post it. here it is #my writing feels so different looking back lol #mdzsnet #mdzs #cql #the untamed #wangxian #wei wuxian #lan wangji #mdzs fanfic #the untamed fanfic #cql fanfic #mdzs fanfiction #the untamed fanfiction #cql fanfiction #wangxian fanfic #wangxian fanfiction #emilu fics #emilu creations

[nyxdelanuit]

It Started With a Postcard (Sero x F! Reader)

This is my contribution to the BNHarem’s penpal event! This event is nsfw so be warned! I had a lot of fun with this collab <3 

Please see the Penpal Masterlist to see the other characters! 

Warnings: smut, nsfw themes below!

Sero stood outside his apartment, staring down at a flowery postcard in his hand with an apprehensive gaze. The early afternoon sun warmed his shoulders, reminding him that he was still stood outside of his modest house. He brought the mail inside, kicking off his shoes at the door. Bills and various coupons were glanced over quickly before his eyes returned to the stiff postcard. The other mail was inelegantly dropped on the kitchen counter. Sero’s eyes scanned the delicate writing as he rummaged his kitchen for a drink. The handwriting was rushed and messy, but still a softer hand than his own.  

It had been a spur of the moment kind of thing, signing up for an anonymous penpal. He had been passing through a stationery store on his way home from patrol, preferring the calm walk home instead of flying above as he did for work. It allowed him to leave a lot of the tension of his job outside of his home as he watched the calm masses meander through the streets in the dying light. He had passed the shop many times before. There was just something that pulled to the shopfront that day. The scent of wooden pencils and lightly perfumed paper leaked out onto the streets, likely from the kiosk placed in front of the encompassing window. He knew it was a ploy to get more out of a dying business, selling a penpal package with bundled paper, envelopes, stamps, and a single postcard. There were spaces to fill out his information, and all letters would be sent through the shop. It had been tempting at the time, the opportunity to talk to someone who didn’t know his hero persona.

It had gotten tiring throughout the years, being the backbone of his friend group. Bakugou didn’t have the emotional intelligence to comfort their friends, Kaminari and Mina were too reckless and blase, and poor Kirishima was ironically too soft. So it had fallen to him, the voice of reason. The one everyone called at three in the morning when the weight was too heavy for one of his friends to hold alone. He had carried it all for years, not stopping to wonder who would hold him together while he supported everyone else. He just had to shrug it off with a smile, as they expected.

But now, the unassuming postcard in his hand offered something different. This person expected nothing more from him than a letter. He didn’t have to be Sero the hero, or Sero the strong one, he could just be Sero. His eyes roamed over the postcard once more before he searched the house for the bundle of paper he purchased. He flopped down onto his couch, picking out a soft grey piece of stationary and leaning over his coffee table to write.

For the first time since high school, Sero struggled with his words. His sentences were awkward and stunted and he floundered over what to say. It was harder than he remembered to start up a conversation with someone who couldn’t instantly reply. Even more so when he was trying to be vigilant about not letting his penpal, Y/N, know about his hero work. Everything he put down about his life felt vague and he hoped his new penpal would overlook his obvious avoidance of the topic.

It took a few days before Sero received a reply. He couldn’t excuse the excitement he felt at the soft envelope in his mailbox, stamped with the stationery store’s address. Sero briefly wondered about who his penpal could be, it would have to be someone within his patrol area. The store was locally owned after all. Perhaps he had even saved his penpal before.

While Sero’s letter had been subdued, neutral in both color and tone, his penpal was decidedly exuberant. The paper itself was awash in pastels with a light littering of designs, neither dark enough to obscure their writing. He noticed the writing was less hurried, but not much neater. It helped anchor Sero to the idea that it was another person on the other side of this letter, something as little as not having the best penmanship was oddly endearing.

His name ‘Hanta’ curled in a delicate slant at the top, causing the breath in Sero’s lungs to hitch. He had forgotten he hadn’t signed his full name, too worried that his penpal would connect it to his hero life and put him on some sort of pedestal. His penpal wrote significantly more about themselves than he had, but didn’t seem perturbed at his reluctance.

They worked a job they were okay at, they lived modestly within their means, they saw their friends often enough, and they met with their parents once a month for dinner. They were happy, but they wished for something to break up the monotony, therefore they signed up for the penpal service. Even though the topic was a bit dull, Sero saw the life behind their words. Humor laced their words and although Sero wasn’t quite happy about the self-deprecating tone, he could work with that. Your name was signed at the bottom, a messy smiley face scrawled just next to it. Without thinking, he brushed his thumb over the doodle, the smile blurred but still bringing a smile to Sero’s face.

There was no hesitance this time as he picked a more playful stationary. The words seem to flow onto the paper with no thought, he had forgotten how nice it was to just communicate with someone with no pretenses.

Weeks passed this way, and people could tell there was a little more pep to Cellophane’s step. He was more eager to get home, a new letter appearing in his mailbox every few days. Truth be told, he hated the wait. Every word poured out to pages made him feel closer to his mystery friend. He paused today, walking through the busy streets. Did he consider his penpal his friend? In every way you could consider someone you know only through words on paper, he supposed he did. Throughout the months of writing, there had been no lack of conversation. They shared in each other’s good fortune and even a few less fortunate events. Sero looked forward to their letters even more than Kaminari’s occasional club invites. Even now as he dodged his neighbor’s attempts at conversation, all he could think of was the softly scented envelope he hoped was waiting for him.

His hopes were rewarded. Sero glanced sheepishly at the growing piles of neglected mail on his counters as he cradled the letter to his chest. He wasted no time reclining on his couch and opening your letter. He wondered, not for the first time, if you sprayed some sort of perfume on your letter or if that was just the scent of you. Either way, it had become a comfort to him. There was no stopping the grin that dominated his face as he laid back onto the couch, intently running his eyes over your words. You always made sure to respond to everything he said, Sero had no idea the last time he felt this seen.

He was already moving to pen up a reply before he noticed your signature smiley face was missing from the end of the letter. Instead, penned in a shaky hand,

‘Call me sometime, Hanta. XXX-XXX-XXXX’

Sero stumbled over his feet trying to get up, ultimately ending up in a heap on the floor. In his haste, he struck out with his tape, pulling his phone from the counter into his hand. He quickly unstuck the tape and tapped open his contacts. Once your contact was filled out, the empty picture stared Sero in the face. His fingers seemed to move on their own, pressing the phone icon softly. It finally registered as the dial tone rang through his silent house, his hands fumbling to get the phone to his ear.

You picked up after two rings.

“Hanta!” His heart swelled as he realized he wasn’t the only one eager to talk, not to mention his given name falling so easily from your lips.

“Wow, do you have some sort of psychic quirk?” He chuckled into the phone. Neither of you had disclosed your quirks as of yet. You returned his laughter nervously.

“Oh definitely, I haven’t been answering every unknown number the past two days with your name or anything.” Sero settled himself on the floor, his free arm stretching up over his head. The sun streaming through his window, the particles in the air lit like tiny embers as they drifted. It felt as if his grin was etched into his face with how much he was smiling. He almost missed the silence that stretched on as he tried to imprint your voice into his head.

“Oh, sorry. I just got off of work, why don’t you tell me how your day went while I unwind a little?” It almost felt as if he was floating as you prattled on about the mundane happenings of your day. It was so normal, so nice. He forgot how nice it was to just live for a minute.

“Hanta?” He hoped you couldn’t tell the way he choked on his breath every time you said his name. “You just got off of work, how was your day?”

“Well I’ve got a few hours to rest before I’m on call, but today was pretty low-key as far as they go.” It felt natural to tell you about his day that he didn’t notice his slip up. It wasn’t as easy as it was on paper.

“On-call?” Sero cringed as you questioned. “Like at a hospital or something?”

”Something like that.” He rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He heard you hum an affirmation, but to his surprise, you didn’t push any further.

“Sounds kinda rough, Hanta. I know I’m pretty cranky when my schedule gets changed.” He appreciated how you kept trying to get to know him without pushing the things he wasn’t ready to share. “And it must be some commute if you work in something like a hospital. There aren’t any close-by. Oh, sorry, I guess I’m assuming you live nearby since the paper shop is local.”

“Yeah, I do. Live nearby, I mean… and the commute isn’t terrible.” Sero muttered awkwardly into the phone.

“I wonder how many times we’ve passed each other without knowing.” Your voice came out a little breathlessly as if you were daydreaming on the other end.

It was easy for Sero to fall into you. Hours passed by as the two of you talked about anything that came to mind. He had barely even noticed the shadows growing deeper as the light faded from his house, until only darkness remained, cut by a singular beam of light from the bright moon. He was fully content to talk to you all night, provided that he wasn’t called into work. At least he was until your yawn cut through your voice.

“I didn’t realize it was so late. Shouldn’t you be getting some rest?” Your voice was getting exponentially drowsy with each minute that passed.

“I’m already on-call, you should get some sleep though.” He chuckled softly into the receiver. Your sleepy voice was adorable.

“Hanta! You shouldn’t have let me blather on instead of letting you rest.” You tried your best to reprimand him, but it only brought forth another soft chuckle.

“I’ll be fine. It was worth it to talk to you, anyway. Now go to bed. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Hanta.” Your voice was barely a breath, and Sero was reluctant to hang up.

It became a nightly ritual between the two of you. Sero called whenever he got off of work, and the two of you talked throughout the night. He insisted you stay on the line even as he made dinner. Sero gave good advice on your shitty coworkers, and he told you stories about his eccentric friends to fill the empty space. You had even tuned into a show together, commenting about the bad storyline and cheesy acting. Every night, Sero would wait for your yawn and wish you a goodnight. You had buried yourself in his heart, and he was in no hurry to remove you.

You were convinced you had worried a path in your floor. Sero’s calls were never on a set schedule, but he had called you every night for over a month, and it was passed the time you usually fell asleep on him. There had been no word from him all day, not even a text to say he’d miss your call.

Sero got back home late. It had been the worst day that he’d had in a while. He was called for assistance rescuing people while some of his more combat-oriented heroes took on a villain, but there had been heavy casualties. All the tape in the world couldn’t fix someone crushed by the rubble. Sero knew that too well now.

His body moved on muscle memory. He had already changed out of his gear and showered at the agency, so he simply kicked his shoes off and stumbled to the couch. There was no thought to it as he dialed your number.

“Hanta! Are you okay?” The panic in your voice floored him.

“Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t even think of how late it was. Did I wake you?” The somber tone of his voice shook you.

“It’s fine, did something happen?” Sero sighed into the phone, choosing his words carefully.

“My work involves helping people, but I wasn’t able to save all of them today.”

The two of you talked into the early hours of the morning. Sero felt everything spill over as he spoke, and you somehow took everything in stride.

“...And I couldn’t do anything.” Somehow his chest felt lighter and tight all at the same time.

“That doesn’t mean that your work isn’t important anymore. You make a difference. A big one.” Was this how other people felt when he was on the other side? It didn’t stop hurting, but knowing that someone was there carrying the weight with you was more than Sero could have hoped for.

Life returned to normal after that, with the exception that Sero started being a little more forthcoming with how his days went. You still didn’t know his exact occupation, but you knew enough to help on the rough days. It only made the feelings Sero had for you more intense. Even though the two of you talked every night and sent little text messages throughout the day, neither you nor Sero stopped sending little letters to each other.

Sero was rummaging through the leftover bits of his penpal package, trying to find a good piece of stationery to pen his next letter. His frown marred his face as dull, formal paper littered the bottom of the box. It would have seemed silly to him at the beginning of your correspondence, but he wanted everything to be perfect in his letters. He had saved every one you had sent, after all. If you were doing the same, they had to at least look like they were worth saving.

Sero wandered into the stationery store, sunglasses perched on his face and a practiced neutral expression on his face. With his hoodie bunched up around his oddly shaped elbows, the only recognizable feature Sero seemed to have was his trademark grin. If he could get in and out without being noticed, he would be able to get a letter out tonight instead of tomorrow morning.

If drumming up business was the reason for the penpal event, it sure seemed to work if Sero was any judge. He wandered through the aisles, stopping often to look at delicate papers with seasonal decorations. He noticed with a flush that all papers in his grasp were soft and floral, reminiscent of new spring love. In an effort to shake those thoughts from his mind, he watched the other patrons roaming the store. Any of them could be you, passing by without even knowing. One customer in particular had caught his eye, thumbing papers in soft greys and a pale yellow clutched in her hands. How lucky he would be if you were anything like her. He realized a bit later that his distraction had only led him deeper into his daydreams, so instead, he browsed the rubber stamps and stickers towards the end of the aisle. Would you like it if he placed stickers on his letters? Which ones would you like? Maybe the delicate cherry blossom stickers, or the pack with puppies? Did you like a specific character?

He had been so lost in his thoughts, he almost missed the ring of the vaguely familiar voice from the front of the store. He heard it every night, but never this clear. Who else could it be but you? He rushed to the front of the store, the bell chiming as it fell closed. He had half a mind to follow you into the street, seek you out finally. Maybe then he could get you out of his head. But the shopkeeper had called to him, noticing his armful of papers, and Sero knew it was too late. Even if he left now, he wouldn’t be able to pick you out of the crowd. Next time he wouldn’t hesitate.

It was easier to admit on paper. Sero wrote to you that night about how he thought he may have just missed you earlier, and how he had started thinking about meeting up. His hand trembled as he wrote about he was a bit nervous about how much he liked you. He finished the letter quickly, sealing it in an envelope and placing it in the mailbox before collapsing in bed. No taking it back now.

It had been quiet for days, and Sero was starting to feel on edge. He liked the days where there wasn’t much to do, it meant that everything was safe and he was doing his job, but multiple days in a row meant trouble. It didn’t take long for his hunch to be proven correct. Glass shattered onto the streets, metal crunched against metal, and Sero moved as fast as he could push himself to go.

Thankfully a few heroes had been nearby to assist Sero with the robbery-turned-mass-destruction. It took them longer than Sero liked, but the villains were subdued. With the criminals apprehended, Sero focused on the cleanup. He had no more than a few scratches, but he was worried about all those that may be trapped in the toppling buildings. A few buildings sat askew, steel beams exposed like snakes reaching out into the sky. It was fairly easy for him to stabilize the buildings, swinging around with his tape like a spider cocooning its prey. As each building was stabilized, he quickly scanned through the halls, escorting any remaining citizens out of the building and past the danger zone. He worked methodically, moving down the street and clearing each building before the next. Compassionate, yet logical. He couldn’t let the recent memory of his losses skew his current predicament.

Those thoughts had swum through Sero’s head until a harsh squeal accompanied by a metallic groan met his ears. He wasted no time jumping into action, flinging himself through the sky to the source. There you hung, dangling by increasingly sweaty hands as you desperately tried to get a better grip on the slowly sagging steel girder. Sero’s heart beat erratically against his chest, but his body moved on instincts ingrained in his muscles.

It always looked so smooth in the movies when the hero swoops in to save the girl. The girl would stare up at the hero in admiration as they glided through the air, as graceful in the sky as a bird. That’s not how you felt. Cellophane’s body collided against yours like a truck, pushing the air from your lungs. Your whole body lurched against his as he scooped you up. The crashing of the beam behind you echoed in your ears, you couldn’t begin to imagine what would have happened if he had been even a minute later. Cellophane may have swung through the air like he was made for it, but your body was jostled by the air beating against your face. The helmet seemed a really wise choice at the moment. As you struggled to grip onto his form, you felt the phone in your pocket easing it’s way out.

“Hey, stop squirming. I’ve got you.” Cellophane spoke to you calmly, but all you could think of was the phone that was about to shatter across the pavement far below you. Your hand reached out to grasp at the device, grasping around thin air. “It’s just a phone, you can get a new one.” Cellophane tried to comfort you as you watched the glittering of your phone exploding and becoming one with the debris of the street.

“No, I have to be there when Hanta calls!” You cried out. Today had already been hard enough, and in your frightened state, all you could think of was how Hanta would hate you if you ghosted him. Cellophane’s chuckle rumbled through where your chests touched, and you couldn’t help but smack his shoulder lightly. “It’s not funny.” Tears gathered in your eyes, all these emotions were too much for you.

“I think Hanta won’t mind if you miss a call, Y/N.” He cooed. You were startled as the tears escaped your eyes.

“Hanta?” His grin was visible through his helmet as he clutched you a little closer to his chest.

“Gotta say, this wasn’t what I was thinking of when I said I wanted to meet you.” You manage to loop your arms around his neck and pull him closer, causing him to veer off course slightly. He righted himself with a nervous chuckle, landing gently on a stable rooftop nearby. “Sit tight for a bit and I’ll come get you, okay?” You could only nod numbly as he propelled himself back into the sky.

Sero may have rushed through his work, knowing you were waiting for him as the chill of the night started to set in. It had been a long time since he felt such a thrill soaring through the city. He circled lowly around the building, coming up behind you as you swung your feet off the edge of the building, staring up at the night sky. He plopped down beside you, removing his helmet and fidgeting with his sweat-slicked hair.

“So… come here often?” Sero pulled a startled chuckle out of you before you leaned onto his shoulder.

“Good one Hanta. Or should I say Cellophane? Now I kinda get why you were so reluctant to tell me your job.” You returned your sights to the sky, a little nervous to look him in the eye.

He stood then and offered you a hand. “Sero Hanta, hero name Cellophane, at your service.” He grinned down at you, and you took his hand to help you stand. You toed the ground with a flush.

“So should I call you Sero then?” It was Sero’s turn to blush.

“Actually, I was hoping this wouldn’t change much between us. I like it when you use my given name.” You nodded, finally looking into his eyes.

“Then you should use mine, too!” Your joined hands still sat between you, and although Sero had realized, he simply gave it a soft squeeze.

“Well, my place is nearby if you want to get cleaned up?” He offered awkwardly. You were suddenly and intensely aware of how all the dust and dirt clung to your skin.

“That would be wonderful.” His smile turned mischievous as he pulled you to his chest, not giving you time to get nervous as he vaulted the two of you off the roof. You had half a mind to scold him, but you were too focused on enjoying the ride. Seeing the city you lived in, the streets you walked every day, from a bird’s eye view was not something you would forget anytime soon. The biting wind stung your eyes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to close them.

To your surprise, Sero deposited the two of you on his balcony. Why waste time with the front door when he could meander through the sliding door? He quickly ushered you through his room. He tried to at least. You were having too much fun pretending your legs were jelly and trying to get a glimpse of his room. It was nice to know that the light-hearted chemistry you had felt over the phone was more than present in person by the way Sero was laughing along with you instead of kicking you out.

The two of you settled into his living room, cold drinks in hand as you tried to catch your breath from the whirlwind of a day. Sero seemed to be keeping an eye on you, and you wondered if he was simply looking for any lingering unease from the attack or if he was as enamored with you as you were with him.

“The bathroom is down the hall, you should get cleaned up.” He broke the comfortable silence, motioning to a door behind you. You shook your head vehemently.

“Oh no, Mr. Hero, sir.” You giggled at him, “You worked a long and hard day, I can wait.”

“You’re the guest!”

“And I’ll be a damned good one and let you go first.” Sero huffed at you before conceding, tossing you a remote to the television as he passed.

“Fine, but next time you go first.” You gasped as he disappeared behind a door.

“Oooh, so you already think there will be a next time? Hanta, I took you for a gentleman!” You jeered at him playfully. Even with the door closed, you could hear him groan.

“Shush! I have neighbors ya know.” He tried to sound put-off, but you could hear the laughter in his voice. To his credit, he didn’t make you wait very long. Steam rolled out of the bathroom as he walked out, still toweling his hair. You tried not to stare at the way his shorts hung low on his hips or the way his shirt stuck to his still-damp skin, but there was no good place to look that wouldn’t make it obvious. Luckily, he didn’t seem to notice your conundrum, simply gesturing to the bathroom.

“It’s all ready for you, I’ve put out a towel you can use. Feel free to use any of my stuff, although it might smell as nice as you’re used to.” You thanked him softly as you escaped into the bathroom to hide your flush. The water still ran warm from Sero’s shower, and you were quick to strip and step into the stream. You watched in fascination as all the day’s mess ran down the drain, a sickly grey.

Sero waited for you on his couch, still pristine. He frowned, realizing that you had probably stood the whole time as to not dirty his furniture. You were too stubborn for your own good, it seemed. He mindlessly flipped through the channels, wondering vaguely if he should just watch one of the many shows he neglected. It wasn’t until he heard the soft padding of your feet that he pulled himself from his thoughts. You stood at the entrance of the hallway, covered only by the fluffy towel he had left for you. Your face was fully flushed, and Sero tried to convince himself it was only from the shower.

“My clothes are completely wrecked, do you have anything I could change into?” Your voice was soft and reluctant, and Sero was quick to pop off the couch, slipping slightly in his haste to help you once again. He tried to slip past you to his room, but he couldn’t help stopping as your skin brushed against his. You looked up at him, eyes wide and questioning.

Sero prided himself on his control. Out of all of his friends, he was known as the level-headed and logical one. Even so, that restraint only went so far. Seeing you in such a state of undress, looking up at him so earnestly, it broke the dam holding back his desires.

His hands tangled in your wet hair, pulling your lips to his with bruising force. You gasped into his hold, dropping the towel as you draped your arms around his neck. Clothes were forgotten as his hands traveled down your neck, moving your head to fit against his better. His tongue traced against your lips with agonizing slowness, but his hands held no such restraint. His rough fingertips drifted down your neck, ghosting past your nipples as they made their way to your waist. He didn’t hesitate to lift you by the thighs, making you anchor your legs around him.

Sero staggered to his room, never once compromising his hold on you. His body followed you down onto his bed, not letting his lips leave you for more than a moment. When he finally broke away, eyes hazy with lust, he gazed down at you.

“Is this okay?” He wanted you to be sure. You were, especially after his question.

“Yes, Hanta. I want you.” Your voice was heavy with your desire, driving him to strip his shirt with an urgency he rarely felt outside of work. The fabric flew into the darkness of the room and his lips were on you shortly after. He let his hands roam now that you were in his bed, kneading experimentally at your breasts. You pushed your chest into his hold, encouraging him to give you more. Your hands found their way to his navel tracing down the path of dark hair. Sero was already straining against the fabric, and you softly swirled your fingers over the tip. He groaned darkly against your mouth, pulling back to rip the shorts off of his body. His lips descended on your chest, harsh nips and soothing licks raining down on your skin. You were so focused on the way he wrapped his lips around your nipple that you hadn’t noticed his hand grazing your skin down to your core. Sero swirled his tongue around your nipple, lavishing the other in rough pinches and soothing circles.

Your back arched off the bed as he spread your folds, skimming over your clit. You bucked against his hand, desperate to feel his fingers against you.

“You’re so wet for me.” He panted against your chest, staring up at you with dark eyes. “Did you think of me after our calls? Did our talks make your heart race like they did mine?” You nodded helplessly.

“Please Hanta.” You begged for his touch and he was too enamored with you to resist. His finger entered you deftly, his palm rough against your clit.

“I had hoped so, ya know I liked you even before I saw your face. Now I know how good you look, I don’t want to let you go.” He finished his breathy sentence with a nip to the underside of your breast, making you squirm against him. He moved back to watch you, adding another finger and then two. The squelching noises coming from his fingers would have normally embarrassed you, but you found yourself lost in the way that he stared at you like an oasis in a desert; like you were something he had been waiting for so long to indulge in. “I already knew you must be beautiful, just from your voice, but fuck, you are so much more than I could imagine. I think I could be happy to spend the rest of my life in this bed with you if you kept looking at me the way you do now.” His hand retreated from your heat, and your body tried to follow. “I’m sorry, I can’t hold back anymore.” He panted, fisting his weeping length before sliding it through the slick collected between your legs.

It was a sweet stretch as Sero sunk into you, a few thrusts before he was fully seated inside you. You reached for him, scratching at his shoulders as you tried to roll your hips up to meet him.

“Fuck, babe. You’re pulling me in so good.” He groaned, placing sloppy kisses across your shoulder. He pulled out to the tip, teasing himself as much as he was teasing you, before slamming home with a lewd smack. Your keening moan set him off, pistoning into your tight cunt without remorse. His fingers dug into your thighs as he tried to angle them higher without slowing. Sero’s hands slid up to the underside of your knees, almost bending you in half as he rolled his hips viciously, grinding up against your engorged clit with every thrust.

“I can’t get you off of my mind. F-fuck, I can’t let you go now. You’re stuck with me.” His hips stuttered against you as he spoke, slowing down to edge himself. The slowed pace had you writhing, not able to buck up against him well in this position. He chuckled softly, his breath hot on your skin. You were so focused on chasing your high, your eyes shut tight and head thrown back, that you barely noticed the tearing of tape coming from Sero. He deftly crossed your legs, attaching the tape to his headboard off to the side in a way that still allowed him to see your face. “Goddamn, babe, you’re so tight like this.” His breathing was erratic as he placed his newly-freed hands on your ass, separating them until he could clearly see himself sinking into your warm cunt. You gasped under his intense gaze, clenching around his cock. The veins were clear in his neck as he tried to hold himself back, his voice caught in his throat.

Then he snapped, a low groan resonating throughout the room. He was all fast, demanding thrusts and blissful praises. You responded in kind, wordless wails of pleasure and breathless gasps. “I’m not gonna be able to last much longer. Cum for me, baby, please.” He pleaded with you, his voice gravelly and needy. His calloused fingers found your clit easily, rubbing figure eights just on the right side of pain. Your legs struggled against the tape as you tried to grind yourself more on his length, pushing his cock into the spongy area that craved his attention. You felt yourself wind up, breaths shallow as you stayed rigid against his passion, desperate for him to keep rubbing against that spot. Your head was swimming with the lack of oxygen as you held your breath long enough for the tension to snap. Sero’s head flew back with a moan as your walls started to drag him further in, constricting his cock with an encompassing ecstasy. He sped up, keeping you on the precipice of over-stimulation. With a final wet smack, he sheathed himself within you, pulsating as the warm ropes of his cum branded your insides.

He stayed within you as he gently removed the tape from your skin, leaving soft kisses on every reddening section of skin. His hands rubbed soothing circles into your thighs, moving down to your calves. “Are your legs sore? I probably should have asked sooner.” He looked a bit ashamed as he asked, only relaxing once you shook your head. “Good.” He pulled out of you slowly, your combined fluids steadily flowing from you.

He quickly ran to his bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with warm water. Once he returned, he returned to his spot between your legs, delicately wiping up all remnants of your fluids. His touch was careful against your swollen sex, and the warmth soothed away any ache that may have remained. He cleaned himself quickly after, only settling himself in bed once he deemed you were taken care of. Once he collapsed onto the bed, he pulled you onto his shoulder.

“So… would it be presumptuous of me to call you my girlfriend?” A thread of nervousness weaved through his voice as he tucked your face away from his flushing face. You allowed yourself a tired giggle.

“I think that’d be nice, Hanta.” He shuddered at the feeling of your breath against his neck.

“Oh, great! Well then, does my beautiful, caring, amazing girlfriend want to stay the night.” You could feel his grin against your head and couldn’t resist the one on your own face.

“Well, I’m pretty sure I don’t have work tomorrow, so why not.”

#sero x reader #sero hanta smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #nyx writes #bnharem collab

[mego42]

fav lines tag

RULES: share your favorite sentence/paragraph from each one of your fics and tag 6 other fic writers to do it too :)

tagged by the talented brilliant incredible @foxmagpie (💖)

tagging: @pynkhues @hypermania @bethsuglywigs @riosnecktattoo @missmaxime @sothischickshe @joeyjoeylee

some ground rules: I’m only doing brio fic bc at some point when I wasn’t paying attention I wrote a metric fuckton of it and we’re already gonna be here all day bc my other ground rule is I’m allowed to interpret the concept of a line however i want. i’m also gonna tell you why i picked them bc no one can stop me. cool? cool. good talk. 

your monster looks like mine

okay so my first choice for fav would be the entire ~conversation around whether or not beth had a choice when she set rio up bc oooof I just love how that came out so! much! BUT if I’m limiting myself to something closer to a line, I’m going with this one. i love what it establishes for rio’s emotional state when it comes to beth, i love how it captures their push/pull constant one upping battle, I love the rhythm of the flow of it and the grandiose verbiage (i was having a frankly unreasonable amount of fun with natural phenomena imagery throughout the whole fic and this captures a bit of it). idk I just think it’s neat.

The words rip through him, a bright, blazing comet trail whipped across his sky, illuminatin’ his landscape, impossible to ignore.

Elizabeth’s spread out on the bed below him, golden hair tumblin’ around her face, mouth red and swollen, lookin’ up at him like she’s got him. Like she’s figured some shit out. Like she fuckin’ did something by putting that together.

Like Rio doesn’t fuckin’ know. Like that doesn’t fuckin’ haunt him, torment him, mock him every time she pulls some of her bullshit and he’s left picking up the pieces, knowin’ damn well what the right answer is but also knowin’ he’s always gonna be wrong when it comes to her.

--

a song inside the halls of the dark

another one where I’d pick a whole scene if I could BUT if  the whole opening flashback isn’t on the table (idk I love it for 14,000 reasons including how it sets up the bookend structure for the chapter, how it sets up a bunch of the final payoffs, the tone of it, idk everything about it came out exactly how I wanted it to and I really love how it tees up the ending), then I’m going with this bit from the final brio scene. it ties back in a whole bunch of threads that have been woven in and out all the way back to the first chapter and closes them out in a way that also feels (to me) like a beginning which I love bc the whole theme of the chapter is it’s a beginning, not the end.

What does it mean then, that he’s slept so soundly beside her?

The playhouse glows softly. She wonders how many more times she can get away with sanding it before it weakens past the point of supporting the kids’ weight and the whole thing collapses.

Behind it, she can see the long shadow it casts reaching for the boxwoods bordering the yard. The lines of the structure frame windows of bright moonlight on the grass, eerily reminiscent of the windows that loomed large in the nightmares Beth abruptly realizes she hasn’t had in weeks. Not since that last night at Rio’s loft. And that’d been the last one since...his car. Canada. The night all of this started.

Beth blinks. What does it mean that she’s slept so soundly beside him?

A-live, alive, alive, I—

Her breath catches.

—

pills’n’potions

I don’t have any grand reasoning for why I picked this bit from the 4th (i think?) ~ch as my fav, I just really like writing annie and rio interacting and I especially love writing them with annie like, intellectually aware that she should probably be afraid of him but also spiritually incapable of not being herself and rio being wildly annoyed by it

"What?" He asks, giving the t an edge sharp enough to cut.

There's a pause. "What like you didn't hear me, or what like what do I want?"

[...]

"Hello?"

Now the sister sounds like she's getting annoyed, and Rio's really gotta do somethin' about the two of them runnin' 'round actin' like he's someone they can get away with not takin' seriously. Like he's some sort of pet. Defanged. Declawed. Fuckin' neutered.

"Get to the point."

"I mean, I kind of did in the message."

—

trade my heart for honey

the only thing sexier than rio being good at pool is beth being a fucking shark and rio being out of control turned on by it.

Dropping all pretense at being less than she is, Beth grabs the cue ball, positioning it slightly to the left of center where the felt is slightly more worn. Even without the tell, she's seen Rio put it there enough times to know it's the table's sweet spot. Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Rio shift his weight before she tunes him out entirely, drawing the stick back and letting it fly.

It's as close to a perfect break as she's probably ever managed. The cue ball connects dead on, scattering the rest far and wide. The one and the six drop neatly into pockets, the four and five coming to a stop right on the edge of the left side and far left corner, nearly closing off that whole side of the table.

Every stripe remains in play.

"Solids," she says, not letting herself dwell on the way Rio's mouth hangs slightly open, his eyes glazed over.

—

swaying evergreens

the whole theme of this fic is the terrifying intimacy and vulnerability of sharing your most precious moments and memories with someone you care about and I like how this touches on that along with sort of nutshelling the double edged sword of grief-tinted memory which is another major theme

There's somethin' extra about these unguarded moments. That Elizabeth trusts Rio enough to drop her guard completely and give him this completely unvarnished look at her. It's been over a year since he's been back in her bed, since the first time he'd slept here, but there's still somethin' tentative about it. Like there's a part of him that's never going to be all the way over the first time he'd been here, that can't fully believe how far they've come, that this isn't going to crumble, melt, drain away.

Truthfully, Rio doesn't mind it, that faint edge. He's well acquainted with the different flavors of loss, and the threat of it's a counterpoint that keeps him sharp. Lets him know this is real but not somethin' he'll take for granted.

—

swear on a silver knife

there were a couple of sexy tension bits that made for strong contenders but ultimately this won bc I’m obsessed with how this reference to 306 came out.

“I told you. I got my own debts to pay.” He bit off the words like it cost him something to repeat them.

Beth shivered, abruptly right back at that picnic table, cheeks wet and staring at him, searching for any hint of the man she’d—she’d—anyone besides the cold, unfeeling stranger sitting beside her, blood so fresh on his hands she could nearly smell it underneath the scent of the cold, misty night rain falling around them, blurring her eyes, beading in her hair and on his eyelashes.

—

listening through the air shaft

this was a really hard one to narrow down but I ultimately went with this but bc I love it for a culminating look at how beth and rio’s relationship has evolved throughout the fic and also bc a version of this scene was the first thing I wrote for the whole fic so it was fun to finally get there with everything in place behind it. I also just love it as a reference for the dichotomy of both beth and rio and also how complicated that is makes being around them for everyone else

They aren't even doing anything, just quietly working side by side, but there's a synchronicity to their movements, a quiet peace that makes Dean feel more like an intruder than anything else that's happened today, and he hates it.

It’s so far from the guy that’d broken into his home, beaten him up. Who’d looked at him with those terrifying, blank, shark eyes before casually shooting him in the chest like it was nothing right where they’re about to sit down and share a meal.

A guy, Dean suddenly realizes, he hasn’t seen any hint of in a long, long time. It’s not that he doesn’t think that part of him isn’t there, it’s just...it’s weird, is all, how completely he puts it away.

It reminds Dean of Beth, actually, now that he’s thinking about it.

God. They look so...so domestic. Sweet. Disarming in a way that completely undermines everything Dean thought he'd known about the guy and their whole...thing.  

He just—he doesn't get it, what Beth sees in him.

—

now use both hands

idk I just like this bit let me live

"What are you—what service?"

He makes himself take the route through the showroom that brings him right past her, leaning in and softly brushing a lock of hair out of her face for the first time in longer than he can remember.

Her eyes flutter shut, and he feels absolutely nothing.

"Helping sad, lonely housewives get off once their husbands are done with them."

Her eyes snap open, and he makes himself look at her long enough to watch the hit land and the hurt bloom.

He's empty, untouchable, she's nothing to him.

Rio doesn't look back.

—

I'd give her a HA! And a HI-YA!

you can take my made up backstory for rio and mick from me when you pry it from my cold dead hands.

Mick had been there the first time Rio'd had to get his hands all the way dirty and had kept an eye on him when he'd gotten blackout drunk after, and Rio'd done the same for him. Every bloody, grimy step Rio'd climbed, Mick had been right there with him, watching his back all the way to the top.

The point is Rio's Mick's brother in every way that counts.

Mick'd seen him twisted up over business and twisted up over personal shit, but he's never seen him let both get twisted up like he had since that fuckin' weasel Boomer'd got his ass handed to him and Rio'd gotten curious about it.

—

as the world turns, the blunt burns

I pull this every time I have to pick a fav and I can’t even really explain it aside from I think I’m really, really funny and that’s enough

Beth suddenly sobers as much as she can when she feels like she's simultaneously floating away and sinking into the Earth and wipes her eyes. "Are you gonna get in trouble?"

"You're in the house, ain't you?" He's answering Beth but looking at Rio.

"Mick," Beth frantically tugs at his pant leg because apparently, he doesn't have all of the information. "We're in the yard."

"Yeah, Mick," Rio says, glaring. "You're in the yard."

Mick shrugs, and Beth realizes he isn't scared of Rio at all. That's a neat trick. How does he do that? Maybe he can teach her.

—

smoke, fire, it’s all going up

there are realistically many other better lines in this fic but this one never fails to make me laugh so it remains my fav.

"You- you-" She sputters at him, flailing around a little. "You were the one that started mailing me pieces of a dead body."

"You blocked my number." Rio snarls, which is not what he'd meant to say, and he hates that she trips him up.

"That is not a proportionate response!"

—

got a kiss (with your name on it)

it was this or the text exchange at the beginning of the fic bc I strongly believe established relationship brio would continually roast each other for their past dumbassery but the elizabeth kink won out

"Come here," Rio's voice is thick but insistent in a way that brings every cell of Beth's body to attention. She hooks her thumb over her bottom teeth and drags her lower lip a little, a gesture full of who me mock innocence, waiting for him to say-

"Elizabeth." There it is.

There's an endless amount of things that Beth finds ferociously, irresistibly sexy about Rio, but when he says her full name in that commanding tone? Even if she's pissed the fuck off and has no intention of doing what he wants, it gives her goosebumps.

—

say it’s all in my head (i remember what you said)

I will be real with y’all, I forget I wrote this fic a lot of the time hahahaha but! that means every time I’m reminded I go back and am like oh yeah! I like this! anyway there isn’t like, one specific but I really love most as much as I really like the tentative breathless nervousness and then also overwhelming so muchness and I like how this but captures both of those

For a single, breathless moment, she stands in the middle of the room, alone and terrified.

Then Rio wets his lips and comes towards her, moving with that languid grace she's never been able to look away from even before she had any idea why that could be.

All of the fear collapses like a dying star, sending a supernova of relief and molten heat zinging through her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Her head swims, and every cell in her body feels like it's leaning towards him- like she's made of magnets on a molecular level and he's the lodestone.

He gently pushes her bangs off of her forehead, slowly running his fingertip down the side of her face, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. He tilts his head towards hers and stops, going no further than halfway, leaving it up to her to close the distance.

She lets her eyes fall shut as she leans into him and tentatively touches her mouth to his for the first time.

—

the world is on fire (and no one can save me) / what a wicked game you played (to make me feel this way)

two for one!!! idk if either of these is my number one favorite line from either fic individually but I really like how they both play together. I like writing beth and rio pov and having them mirror each other’s narration both in thought and structure a lot bc I like thinking of them as two versions of the same

Beth checks her phone, nothing from Rhea, and sends a quick I'm here, text me when you're close, and I'll grab a table before wetting a paper towel and wiping away the last of her smeared mascara. With precise, brisk movements, she snaps open her bag and fishes out her compact, her lipstick, and her mascara; lining them up click, click, click on the tiny shelf below the mirror.

She can live with this; she has to live like this; she will live like this.

She flips open the compact and methodically dabs away the flush and pallor and shadows that are not grief, are not loss, are not anything other than shock and horror that she'd gone so far, that she'd lost control, that she'd killed a man (that man).

and

So what the fuck had he been doin' with Elizabeth fuckin' Boland, giving her chance after chance to cross the line? What the fuck was the point of a line if it might as well not be there at all? All because he liked her big blue eyes and the way she worked a tight sweater? Nah, that ain't him. That can't be him. That's the kind of shit that'll get you killed, and he's got three spent bullets in his pocket and a scar next to his heart if he ever needs the reminder again. 

He shifts in the driver's seat, reaching into his pocket and fishing the bullets out. Lining them up on the dashboard with a definitive click, click, click. He looks past them to the brightly lit valet station. He's been parked in the back of the lot for ten minutes now, waiting for Rhea to give him the go sign. He ain't hiding, doesn't need to, Elizabeth ain't lookin' for him, he just wants to make sure he sees her before she sees him. Get a good look first, so he can size up the situation.

#good lord when did i write so much fic????????? #imagine if i hadn't onlly stuck w/ ch 12 of song #it would've taken me weeks to do this #tag games #my fic #shut up meg #gg related

[deathonyourtongue]

Sanguine Nocturnus | 3

Summary: Even after 2000 years, the world can still surprise you. Pairing: AU!Henry Cavill x OFC Word Count: 1.6K Warnings: It’s a vampire fic. Death. Blood. Gore. Sex. Horror. Not for the kiddies or the squeamish. I mean it. A/N : Thank you to everyone who’s been so excited and supportive of this one. I can’t even begin to tell y’all how much good stuff is in store for y’all!

The sun seemed different in Rome. Brighter, more nourishing somehow. Carla watched how the early morning light played against the soapy bubbles she brushed along her skin, smiling at the oil-slick colors and the sharp bursts of white whenever one popped. Even plain water looked different as it flowed over her, Carla admiring the little sunbursts that topped her pert nipples as the water brought goosebumps to nearly every inch of her. 

The water, so far, was her only complaint. Harder than what she was used to in New York, it had forced her to switch from her favorite shampoo to an Italian brand that promised to work even with the most mineral-deposited water; it was no wonder the locals preferred to drink bottled spring water wherever they went. Even her apartment’s size didn’t bother Carla. What her unit lacked in space, it more than made up for in natural light, French doors opened out to small verandas on each side of her corner unit, and medium-sized windows next to her front door gave Carla a scenic view of her building’s courtyard.

Stepping out of the shower, Carla took a moment to look at herself in the mirror, her smile growing in excitement as she thought about what the night would hold. Having been kind enough to give her a week to acclimate, Romulus’ owner had asked that she work her first shift on Friday the 13th. Far from being leery of the date, Carla found it only fitting given the atmosphere of the bar. Remembering she had all day to play sightseer again, she padded into her room to get dressed, only to find a big, near-blinding ray of sun sweeping across her bed. 

Dropping her towel, Carla crawled back into bed with a grin, intent on enjoying the sun for just a moment longer while the residual water dried on her legs. There was something daring about being nude just inside a second-story window, and while back home she would have drawn a crowd of gawkers in the building across the street, her view now held only the Palazzo Borghese, the blue sky, and the tans and terracottas of Rome. In short, she was in heaven. 

Since landing in Rome and settling into her apartment, Carla had decided that each day, she would pick a direction, and walk, intent on simply seeing the city as organically as possible. Some days she ended up at the Colosseum, marveling over the ruins, and others, in a little bookstore that specialized in first editions and rare finds. It kept the lonely and restless nature of her mind at bay, and in her opinion, was the best way to honor her mother’s wishes and heritage. 

Carla’s walk took her to the ruins of the Stadium of Domitian, and for the first time since arriving at Rome, her fascination for history was paralleled by an anxiety that she was wasting her degree. Having studied History at NYU, she’d always banked on getting a job at a museum or a library, but with each rejection, that dream had become further and further away. Now, with an opportunity to start anew, she wanted to try that path again. The more she walked through the ancient archways and old relics, the more confident she became that she would make something of herself, even after all this time.  

After a light lunch in the nearby piazza, Carla made her way home, stopping to grab a few things at the pharmacy and the little market near her apartment. One thing was certain, the pace in Rome was far more to her liking than home had ever been, and though the city was bustling, she didn’t feel the constant rush to get everything done like she had in New York. It eased her stress in a way she hadn’t even considered, and by the time she was back in her apartment, Carla felt light as air. 

Unsure of whether Romulus allowed their employees to eat dinner on-site, Carla made an early plate of pasta and readied herself for work. Donning black jeans, a black t-shirt, and her most trusted pair of boots, she added a deep red lip, feeling as though the color would not only act as a counterpoint to all the black, but that it would suit the mood of the bar. Nervous butterflies flitted through her stomach as she threw on a black motorcycle jacket and headed for the door, hoping she’d done enough to impress her new boss. 

Romulus’ owner, Fredo, was just as warm and complimentary in person as he’d been over the phone, and in no time, Carla had made herself at home behind the bar, grateful not only for the job, but for the fact that she had full control of her space. There were no other bartenders to contend with, no toes to step on. She was given free reign to do things her way, and that was more than enough to set her at ease. The only thing she’d been warned not to do was get rid of a drink called Sanguinem, one Carla had honestly never heard of. 

Coming in an ornate deep blue bottle with a crystal stopper, it looked like the design and marketing hadn’t changed since its inception. Curious, she’d poured herself a half shot of the stuff while on her first break and swirled it around in her mouth, spitting it out just as fast as she’d drank it. Sharp and metallic, she’d barely been able to pick up hints of blackcurrant and cherry before her mind had told her to eject the liquid. Intensely interested in finding out what kind of person would order such a foul-tasting concoction, Carla spent the first half of her shift hoping someone would order it. 

It would be two weeks before anyone did.

Despite having spoken Italian with her mother all her life, Carla had found herself freezing when she had to converse with native speakers, her mind tongue-tying her to the point where those she was speaking with often took pity on her and switched to English. Still, despite the occasional language barrier, Carla found Italians, as a whole, far more agreeable customers than their American counterparts. People were simply happy to be out and enjoying themselves, and they couldn’t be bothered to berate someone who was plying them with drinks. The laid back attitude helped her settle at Romulus, in much that same way she’d eased into Italian life in general and though there were times when her anxiety about the future still plagued her, most nights, she was too busy to even give it a second thought. 

On the first Saturday in December, Carla’s routine set of faces and orders changed, anxiety once more taking a back seat to the group of three stunning creatures that walked into Romulus unannounced, but very much known by the other customers. Carla watched, fascinated, as some of the patrons all but threw their money at her in their haste to leave, while others moved tables and seats closer to the semi-circular booth the group had chosen at their location for the night. Those who left seemed disturbed, and those who stayed, entranced. Without even needing to think about it, Carla knew she fell into the latter category; the two men and one woman all looked like demigods. 

Dressed almost too formally for the bar, the tallest of the three caught her eye first. Dark curls hung just to his brow, framing a jaw that seemed cut from marble and was nearly the same color as the statues of old. It was his eyes that took Carla’s breath away however, their shade reminiscent of tropical waters, their intensity almost neon. Wearing an all black suit with the shirt unbuttoned to reveal a thick thatch of hair, Carla was certain he could have any woman in Romulus that he so much as looked at.

His friends were no slouches either, the other man wearing a navy suit with a cream turtleneck, and the woman wearing a dress that had all the hallmarks of being couture and vintage. All three were brunettes of differing shades, their hair color setting off the pallor of their skin and the alien-like brightness of their eyes. They were, in short, immaculate. 

When the man in the turtleneck rose and made his way over to the bar, Carla forgot where she was. She watched his lips move, not hearing a word of what was said, too caught up in his overall presence to pay any attention to what was happening. It wasn’t until she realized he was waving his hand in front of her face that Carla came to her senses. Blushing, she shook her head and gave him her best smile. 

“What can I get you?” She asked, stumbling over her Italian and feeling the temperature in the room go up several notches as the man smiled back. 

“Two bottles of Sanguinem, and three chilled coupes, please.” The man’s words felt like they were coming from inside her own head and Carla was once more left rooted into place, unable to process how he could make himself be heard so clearly over the din of the music and other patrons. 

Blinking hard, she moved to grab the bottles, glad that she’d done her prep work prior to opening and that she had several of each kind of glass in the chiller, ready to go. Carla made a mental note of the type of stemware that paired with the drink, wondering if there’d be any variation in how it was taken; straight, on the rocks, or with a twist. 

The man in the turtleneck nodded his thanks, tapping one long finger against the list next to the till,  on top of the name Vinicius. Nodding her understanding that he had a tab with the bar, Carla watched as he headed back to the table and began to serve the other two, her glance quickly moving towards the dancefloor when all three of them turned to look at her with their piercing gazes.

#henry cavill #henry x ofc #sanguine nocturnus #deathonyourtongueoriginals

[bitchfitch]

Death crept through the lavish halls of a rich man's home. Old cracked paint flaked beside sun faded tapestries and over well worn wood floors. The raged leather soles of of his boots softly thumping along with the creaking of old wood that accompanied his every step. He found the room easily, following the sound of a fading cough and short not quite gasping breaths that failed to draw enough air. 

He ducked through the door and the dying man greeted him with age hazed eyes and a broad grin.

"Copper!" his exclamation carried joy even if his lungs couldn't support more than a creaking whisper, "Bastard, it's so good to see you again," he stopped to catch his breath, his eyes closing as he did so,

"And you as well," Copper returned the smile as he sat in the chair beside the bed, "But to be honest I'm a touch surprised, both that you can see anything through those cataracts, and that you would... Appreciate my presence," 

The rich man chuckled, "Not many people have hair that color, even fewer are as tall as you. I may not be able to see much, but I can still see that,"

"I suppose you're right," Copper huffs with a hand going to his dark red mess of a mane "Still, you must remember the terms of our deal and what my presence means for you now?"

"I do," he nods, "I'm going to die tonight, going to see Min again," 

"Min?"

"My wife," he smiles as he speaks of her even as his words become more labored, "That quill you gave me, I wrote a letter to the girl I had fallen in love with when we were young. I didn't know she couldn't read, so she had to get someone else to read it to her, but when she'd heard what I wrote she came all the way into the valley to slap me and call me an idiot," he laughs, "Told me we should've eloped when we were both still fresh, before she'd found another man to call her own,

I'd not even thought that she'd have gone on like that. It made sense, she could have, and did, do so much better than me. But luck of lucks saw that husband of hers dead not long after. I felt bad for being so happy, but I couldn't stop smiling when she and I married,

That quill- You, gave me the happiest life I could have imagined. I'm glad to pay my end of the deal now, because it means I get to see her again,"

"It's a rare treat to find someone with no regrets, thank you for your story," Copper smiles softly, genuine and warm,

"Oh, I've got regrets," the rich man say "Many, but I don't care to dwell on them, not now... or... Well, one, there's one,"

"Hmm?"

"Min and I, we had a fight right before... She was so mad at me last time I saw her. Do you think she still is?"

"I don't know, but you will have plenty of time to make it up to her soon,"

"Yeah, yeah that's true... It's close now is it?"

"Moments if I had to guess," Copper shrugs, "The clot in your lung is migrating and will soon block off blood flow to the area completely. After that happens you won't be able to get enough air and will... fall asleep, then you will suffocate over a few minutes. It won't be the most pleasant of deaths, but it won't hurt badly," he simplified things greatly, not caring for the slight inaccuracies so long as they helped keep the rich man calm and peaceful in these final moments.

"Any final requests?" Copper cocks his head,

"I think... yeah, I think I want to be alone for this. Thank you," 

"Of course. Rest well then, and may your sleep bring great growth" Copper stood from his seat, the blessing leaving him without thought as the rich man closed his eyes a smile still tugging on his old, withered face.

The door to the rich man's room shut with a light thud as Copper drifted down the halls, a heavy sigh falling from his lips. He rarely visited the dying, usually he only came to the deceased caught between their death's and their afterlives to guide them across, and this was why. He knew where the clot was, it would only take a moment and a little bit of concentration to break it up enough that the rich man's body would be able to handle it on it's own. Sure, doing so would probably only buy him a few more bed bound days, a week maybe, but healers can rarely be trusted to leave the sick and dying to the whims of nature and he was no different. 

He wandered through the empty halls decorated with treasures that, do to a single deal made half a century ago, would soon be his, and found his way into a shrine room. Shelves upon shelves of precious jewls and metals, fine fabrics and sculptures filled the room. Though the alter beneath the stained glass window held only sea glass and shells that glittered from around a poorly made tapestry that depicted a stormy ocean.

The threads were too loose in some places too tight in others and there were places where it was clear the weaver ran out of one color and had attempted to dye more only for it to come out just wrong enough to be noticed. It was clearly made by inexperienced hands and now stood displayed still in it's loom in the place of honor on this shrine. Pride in its existence radiated from it and that made it stunning despite it's flaws. 

Distantly, he felt the rich man die, quietly and peacefully.

One of Copper's aspects would guide him across and later while Copper slept he'd dream of the conversation that aspect and the rich man would have, and he would dream of the conversations his other, near innumerable, aspects would have, and have had, and have been having with every other human who has crossed into his domain since he last slept. Then he would wake, and forget almost everything said during those conversations as they meld together into a messy but beautiful tapestry. All the threads visible and traceable in their places but ultimately he saw it not for the individuals, but the grander thing they made together.

He picked at the stones and shells scattered on one of the shelves, his dulled claws scraping against the rough surface. He should probably go find someone to deal with the body...

The soft creaking protest of a floor board that no longer fit in it's place being tread on called from behind him. Copper turned, curious to who or what would be intruding on this moment, but he was left slack jawed with a greeting trapped behind his lips as he saw the man.

Surrounded by gold and silver and precious gems that glittered in the low moonlight that flowed through the windows, this man outshone them all. He was tall for a human, coming up to just below Copper's collar bones, with broad, strong looking shoulders. His sharp features highlighted by the silver light caressing his warm tan skin and haloed by that same light echoing through the broken strands of bleach blonde hair that fell from his neat bun to frame his narrow face.

Light agitation turned to wonder and awesrrucked silence as Copper struggled for a second to find words, but once again those words died when he met the man's eyes, they were probably a deep brown but the low light turned them onyx. His gaze was sturdy, not cold or calculating, not bored. Determined but practiced.

The strange, beutiful, human man wore the expression of a butcher or a slaughterer, he did not draw perverse pleasure or joy from what came next. He was so obviously merely doing a job as he moved faster than Copper's confusion addled mind could react to that that alone struck more fear into Copper's core than if the man were hissing and snapping with rage.

The ice hot cut of an iron blade dug past the flesh between his ribs and into his chest even as he recoiled. On pure instinct he growled an awful rumbling sound that made the butcher- the hunter, flinch as Copper managed to stumble away, nearly falling to one knee as his own lung struggled to inflate. He could feel his magic burning along the wound as it tried, and failed to pull it closed. His hand going to his bloodied side in a vain attempt of staunching the flow. 

The hunter advanced, cautious and silent, his blade, slicked with Copper's own viscous black blood, raised as he followed the retreating god.

Copper hissed as his back collided with a shelf, cornered he pulled his attentions together just enough to attempt to teleport away, only to feel his magic jolt painfully within him as it failed completely.

The hunter advanced, already readying another swing.

In that moment Copper forced himself to focus on the warm summer night air, on the flickering candles and the heat of the hunter's body, most seals could be overpowered, he just needs to rush it hard enough. 

Heat leaves the room, the hunter stumbles with a pained gasp as the heat leaves him too. Copper doesn't see if the hunter falls because the seal gives as he uses all of that stolen energy to burst against it.

He drops to his knees on the cold stone floor of the cave he calls home. His blood singing through magic seared veins, his hands shaking as he braces one against the floor below him as his world swims, both from blood loss and the disorientation that always came with pushing his power that hard,

He struggles with his wound, gasping with effort as his magic finally starts working again. The wound tieing itself closed beneath his palm, a thick black scar forming as he comes down from the mountain top high of fearing for his life for the very first time since before the advent of this universe.

Copper slumps against the water-carved wall of his home, his head falling back against it with a deep buzz running beneath his skin, and he Laughs, deep and hearty and Alive in a way he has not felt in centuries.

#tbh i dont have a name for this project #like the old one was super cringey and just straight up doesn't fit anymore #im taking suggestions znsnsnsssn #and also i will probably be boosting this again later when more people are awake #im proud of it :)

[giggles-and-freckles]

I heard you were doing some... whump drabbles? perhaps ✈: reaching out for someone or ✿: feeling so out of it, they need constant attention?? 👀

To say Ahsoka’s apprenticeship started unconventionally would be an understatement.

From the confusion with her master not even knowing he was her master to her immediate adventures on Teth and Tatooine, it had started off as uncertainly as any padawan’s. She’d listened to her creche-mates share stories of their masters choosing them after their trials, ceremonially offering an apprenticeship.

Anakin’s first real sentiment to her had been “there must be some mistake” before he’d tried to pawn her off on Obi-Wan. Although, looking back with a fond smile, she couldn’t say that would have been the worst thing in the world.

When she and Anakin had finally made it back to the temple and sat down to develop a real training regime, it felt...awkward. They’d already been in several life-and-death situations, not to mention been key players in establishing a game-changing diplomatic relationship with the Hutts.

Now they were supposed to create a meditation schedule? And go over basic lightsaber form?

A training bond doesn’t establish itself, Obi-Wan had reminded them with an amused smile.

Fuck off, old man, Anakin had replied.

So they’d tried. The first day or two of regular training at the temple was uncomfortable at best, miserable at worst, but after a few days, they were surprised to find how...easy it was. Ahsoka filled the small gaps in Anakin’s shields and he provided the bulky foundation she lacked on her own. Every weakness she’d ever been notified of by her teachers as a youngling was naturally corrected when she was at Anakin’s side.

She’d never say it out loud because he couldn’t handle the ego boost, but Ahsoka quickly found that she was the absolute best version of herself when she was with him.

They’d found an easy pattern, the two of them, and soon the audience in the observation room of their sparring sessions grew beyond just proud, old Obi-Wan. Masters and padawans alike came to watch, laugh, and take notes from the intensity and fluidness with which Anakin Skywalker and his new apprentice fought.

One time, Ahsoka even spotted Master Yoda.

She’d put all of her effort into flattening Anakin on his back, then, of course.

What had started as constant form modifications turned into form creation. Anakin didn’t just fight, he constructed. Out of the routine assaults and jagged deflections, the Jedi choreographed a sort of dance that only he was privy to.

Sure, Obi-Wan knew most of the moves. They’d mostly been inspired by him anyway. A padawan could only teach so much to his master, though.

So it was Ahsoka who received the bulk of this choreography, constantly watching and doing and watching some more. Trying to memorise the ebb, the flow, the rhythm of it all. And pretty soon–his dances weren’t solo at all. 

He wasn’t just showing her what he had made for himself. He was creating for them–and she was helping! They worked in tandem, moving, fighting, and breathing as a single unit. Ahsoka would marvel at it as she left the training room or battlefield, breathless yet not ready to quit.

It didn’t take long before they had signature things that were theirs. Like breakfast in the garden when they were at the temple on leave and impersonating Rex every time he was yelling at shinies and their Move.

Back to back, his right heel nearly stepping on the back of her left. Opposite shoulders pushed against each other, supporting and spurring on. Their Force bond compensated for most of their movement, but before they were encircled by droids or cornered by bounty hunters or whatever situation they found themselves in, Ahsoka would always, always reach behind her. Just the tiniest bit–to touch Anakin’s waist. 

It didn’t accomplish anything beyond giving her a tiny bit of comfort. A simple touch of reassurance that yes, he was there and so it would be okay, no matter what the next few moments of combat would entail. 

She was jolted back to the present as another punch flew toward her jaw.

“You’re gonna have to do better than that,” she snorted as she easily ducked. The Trandoshan’s movements were clumsy. Ahsoka could take this lump with her hands tied.

Which was good, considering they...were.

“This would be a fairer fight if you’d let me get a few swings in, you know,” she grumbled, pulling at the restraints again. “Maybe you could learn a few things?”

The Trandoshan growled in response. Ahsoka wrinkled her nose at his horrific breath. She was tired of this–tired of pretending like this guy offered any real challenge and tired of playing with her food.

She reached out, her arm instinctually moving behind her, feeling for Anakin’s waist, the way she had so many times before.

Her hand fell back to her side, passing through the air behind her.

Ahsoka faltered, her memory lapsing for the briefest of moments–where was he? Was he okay? Did she lose him in the mania of this pathetic excuse for a fight?

Harder than any blow the Trandoshan could get on Ahsoka, the reminder of her reality crushed down upon her, throwing her off-focus just enough for her opponent to move in. She deflected, easily enough, side-stepping another punch and surprising the Trandoshan. He hadn’t expected her to move so quick. She took advantage of his confusion and moved to a better position, kicking him from behind and watching him fall to the ground with no true satisfaction.

If Anakin were here, he’d roll his eyes at the groaning Trandoshan in a heap on the ground and say something witty like, “you should lose a few pounds, buddy.” Then he’d throw a smirk at Ahsoka, shrug his shoulders, and say, “Hungry, Snips?” and they’d go grab a burger.

But Anakin wasn’t here. He hadn’t been in a very, very long time.

Not since–everything. The clones, the purge, the darkness. Anakin was gone. Obi-Wan was gone. Master Plo, Jesse, Kix, Cody, Luminara, Yoda, Mace–

Everyone. Gone.

And Ahsoka couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been met with anything but empty air when she’d reached out.

#my fic #whump prompts #snips & skyguy #reaching out for someone #these are fun!!!!! #and hey this one is less than 1k!!!! #progress!! #star wars fanfic #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano