#Hmm. Perhaps I could replicate this...

[kykyonthemoon]

How to romance the lovely Miss Hunter

By finding out the tropes you like to read in romance novels, he might know just how you would like this love to be.

ಇ. Character x Reader/MC

Included parts in order: Rafayel, Xavier, Zayne, Caleb

ಇ. Tags: soft, sweet, fluff, cheesy (it's a warning), teasing, established relationship (except for Caleb's part), roleplaying (with Rafayel), jealousy (Xavier being jealous with his other identity - Lumiere), mentioned of all the romance tropes I like to write about, childhood friends to lovers, adopted brother and sister, princess and her merman slave, damsel in distress.

ಇ. Word count: 4k3

ಇ. Requested by Krys.

ಇ. Masterlist

ಇ. Request

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍 

"What have you done just now?! "That was my first kiss."

The princess exclaimed. She then covered her lips with her fingers and concealed her face behind the veil that had just been removed.

The attractive mermaid, with his bare chest revealed beneath the water, smiled, half cold, half alluring. He migrated close to to the Princess and declared:

“Now you are mine.”

The book in Rafayel’s hand rolled from the sofa to the floor, and he began laughing uncontrollably, crawling even. You seized the book in anger, folded it flat, and requested:

“Please stop.”

Rafayel covered his lips with a palm and smiled. His eyes shone with tears, his cheeks went scarlet, and his stomach ached from laughing so hard. He leaned absolutely back on the sofa and gazed at you.

"Your Highness, you do have a hobby of reading such cheesy love stories."

Rafayel replicated the dialogue from the book, making you even more enraged. You shot him a stare.

"Hmm." You gripped the book hard in your hands. Ever since he caught you reading this romantic novel inspired by the legend of Lemuria, Rafayel had been teasing you by reenacting passages from the written scenes, but in a sardonic style that left you flush with embarrassment.

"Your Highness, where are you heading to?" Rafayel grabbed your wrist as you turned to go. "Do not forget that now, you are mine."

Rafayel restrained another chuckle. You violently yanked free from his grip. 

“I'm… sorry…” Rafayel cleared his throat. He eventually came to the decision to stop this childish game. 

"With the exception of a few references to Lemurian mythology, the rest are too… much. The author has let her imagination wander too far.” 

"You are insulting other people's interests!" You frowned and responded. "I enjoy reading passionate love stories like this. Is there a problem with it?”

Rafayel stared at you with an expression of pain. You were the one who got furious, so why did he appear to be more upset?

“If you wish to learn about Lemuria, wouldn't it be better to just ask me directly? You don't need to read stories like that.”

The book in your hand was titled The Lemurian Kiss. The plot focused on a handsome mermaid and the princess he was forced to obey. Tara first exposed you to it, which piqued your interest. Then you were absorbed in the love and resentment, as if it was your own narrative from another life.

Rafayel hated it. Yet you did not understand, if he disliked it so much, why did he even bother to read it more attentively than yourself? Even when he tormented you with passages from the narrative that made you blush, you had to concede that he had read and comprehended it better than you could.

Perhaps it was due to his Lemurian ancestry. Perhaps he had heard a similar story elsewhere in his long life. You had no idea how long he had lived, and you understood very little about Lemurians. Indeed, when you bought this book, you anticipated it to disclose more about his kind than he was eager to share.

Suddenly, you came up with an idea. You gave up attempting to get out of Rafayel's grip. To his astonishment, you crouched down closer to him, giving him no opportunity to sit up. A hand rested on Rafayel's chest, gently forcing him down into the sofa.

"So? Will you tell your beloved princess all the secrets of Lemuria then?"

You altered your voice to seem icy and pompous, like the princess in the tale. Your gaze fixed on Rafayel's, making it impossible for him to ignore you. He was completely taken aback by your abrupt shift in attitude.

“You… What are you doing?”

“Is that how you speak to a princess?”

You appeared unsatisfied, and before Rafayel attempted to get up, you opted to sit on top of him.

“Ouch! That's painful!" He shouted. “You're so heavy! Get off!”

"How insolent of you!" You grabbed Rafayel's chin so he could obediently stay down in place. "I'll have your scales peeled off for daring to insult my weight like this."

He snorted coldly while he was still pinned down on the sofa. "That's it! You're bullying me!"

"Isn't this your favorite scene from the story? When the merman attempted to flee, the princess sat on him. I'm merely offering help since I see you immersing yourself so much in the role from the story there.”

Rafayel's sullen attitude brought you a delicious triumph. He turned his face away, as if he was upset at being bullied. He stated:

“It's best that you don't read these kinds of stories anymore!”

Pleased, you softly patted his cheeks as he puffed them up like a toddler. You stood up, satisfied, and said:

“I'm going to let it slide. Next time, don't tease me like that anymore."

But Rafayel showed obvious disappointment. He grasped your wrist.

“Is that all?”

"Huh?" 

“Are you really going to leave?” He grumbled. “You are not dedicated to the role you play after all.”

Rafayel sat up immediately, then he pulled you down on the sofa and in a blink of an eye, you were in his arms. “Once you start a role, you have to be committed to it.”

Rafayel's long fingers slid down the bridge of your nose, then paused at your lips. You held your breath, looking at him, waiting.

“Her Highness loses interest too quickly.” 

You grinned, recalling the personal passages between the two main protagonists in the novel. Sometimes you put yourself and Rafayel in it. How astonishing that this was truly happening.

“Entertain me then. Would you?”

Your clear voice rang out. Your fingertips had rendered Rafayel's face red, and you could hear his heart pounding furiously in your ear. 

“I can grant all your wishes.” Rafayel held your hand and placed it on his chest, then began to kiss you. First your hair, then your forehead, a lingering kiss on the tip of your nose, and finally he stopped for a moment at your lips. “I can even make you forget all the cheesy things a human wrote about Lemurians in that book.”

Rafayel's fingers gently parted your lips a little. Yet still left you hanging. 

“After all, Her Highness needs not a work of fiction, when she already has a true Lemurian, in the flesh, right here.”

At that moment, the merman offered the princess a long-awaited kiss, as if reconnecting an incomplete romance from the past life.

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓 

Those days, Xavier noticed how you often had your nose buried in a book. It was nothing like daily life science research, nor was it like the ones you would usually read. It was brand new, with a silver mask on the cover.

He also realized another thing, that you always laughed to yourself while reading it. Occasionally, you would give him a covert glance, then go back to bury yourself in the pages of the book and smile. Other times, you would hold the entire open book in your hands and roll around on the bed with immense excitement, which he could not comprehend.

Then, one day, he picked it up, that thick large book. What caught his eye was the title of the story: Moonlight Lover. He rolled his eyes. 

Xavier's slightly trembling fingers opened the book in a slow motion. The page you were reading was marked with a lovely tiny star-shaped bookmark. He failed to take his eyes off the words presented under the light.

“My beautiful lady, fear not! I have come for you. I will protect you with my life.”

“Oh, my Lumiere…”

A very complicated expression appeared on Xavier's face. He read on, and the next paragraphs perplexed him. 

In the midst of fierce battle, Lumiere gave his lover a passionate kiss. Time stopped, the moonlight shone on two hearts in perfect harmony. Right at the climax, you walked in. With a haste you snatched the book from his hands.

“This… is mine!” 

You hid it behind your back. Your face turned red as if you had just done something so embarrassing.

"You… Why have you read my book?"

"You…" Xavier was ready to say something, but hesitated. His look remained stunned, as if he had just witnessed something so horrific that he could not speak. Yet that may be true.

"Tara let me borrow this book!" You spoke fast, not daring to look him in the eyes. "She said this… this is the best-selling romance novel in Linkon…"

"I see." Xavier responded. "Do you like reading romantic stories?"

"S-Sometimes…" You murmured. With the book in your hand, you swiftly turned to the bookshelf and placed it there. As you turned around, you nearly ran into Xavier. When did he come to stand right behind you? "Oops!"

"S-Sometimes…" You murmured. With the book in your hand, you swiftly turned to the bookshelf and placed it there. As you turned around, you nearly ran into Xavier. When did he arrive to stand directly behind you? "Oops!"

You exclaimed with surprise. You promptly drew away. Your back was ready to collide with the bookshelf, but Xavier's extensive hand saved you.

His face was so close. Somehow, you imagined that behind a silver mask, he would look just like Lumiere, which was bizarre.

"Xavier…" You quietly uttered his name, indicating that you were safe and that he could let you free. Yet Xavier held you even tighter.

“Do you like Lumiere that much?” He questioned abruptly, his expression not even trying to cover his evident sulking. 

“Lumiere… It's merely fiction…” You defended. 

“What do you like about him? His flashy appearance? Or his way of flirting with the female lead?”

Xavier's face stiffened. You caught his eyes gradually darken.

“In stories like this,” you clarified. “The male lead often appears just as the main protagonist is in peril to defend her. I simply appreciate their love..."

You could feel Xavier's heavy breathing on your cheek. His hand, which was previously on your back, then moved down to your hip, pushing you towards him so that your bodies were pressed against each other.

“I do the same too, don't I?” Xavier's voice was calm and soft, yet contained so much bitterness. “I will always defend you. I'm always there when you need me."

“Yes… That is true…” You replied, casting a quick glance at him. He rested his chin on your head and wrapped his arms around you in secure, as if afraid Lumiere would appear and take you away at any moment.

“So, me and Lumiere, who do you like more?”

Xavier's question left you hanging in confusion. Before you could respond, he added:

“Lumiere cannot hold you like this. He cannot be there whenever you call. He cannot hang out with you. Cannot be close to you… like this…”

A kiss from Xavier landed on your bare shoulder. You felt dizzy after being embraced with such force. You gasped:

“Erm… Lumiere is a… a legend… Even if he's real… he's probably a lot older than me…”

Xavier sighed deeply once more. He leaned in toward you and pushed you closer to the bookshelf. 

“Then tell me. Do you like me more, or him?"

Just when you thought everything was settled, Xavier continued to ask that question. You knew all too well that you could not get out of this situation if you refused to give him the answer he needed. Yet the look on his face made you want to taunt him even more.

“Well, let's see. Lumiere has a luxury attire, exceptional abilities, and—”

Without waiting for you to finish the sentence, Xavier's lips locked your mouth. His kisses were always as gentle as his demeanor, but this was more intense than ever. You were held in his arms, lips devoured by him to the point that every breath slowly left you, your body and heart trembling as you were forced to surrender to him in such a manner. 

When Xavier let you go, your mind already went blank. Who was Lumiere again? You no longer remembered. You could not recall.

Xavier gazed down at you, his lips parted slightly into a smile. He removed the book off the shelf and placed it back in your hands. 

“Return it to Tara once you're done reading.”

He turned away. At that moment, you concluded that you could read every love story ever written in this world, but the one true male protagonist in your life could only be Xavier.

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

There was a book café established on the same street as Akso Hospital recently. And so you have found another place to go while waiting for a certain doctor to finish his shift.

Originally, you intended to pass the time by sipping a drink and munching some sweets. Yet you had no idea that you would also be drawn into the pages of books there, especially a very thrilling love story about a man. The doctor who led two divergent lifestyles.

He was a doctor at an esteemed hospital, also a cold-blooded killer who must conceal his identity from the person he loved. Right from the very first lines, you were drawn into the story that was both tragic and sensational. Especially when the main character resembled a doctor whom you admired. You were so absorbed in reading that you failed to notice the time. You went around the café, holding the book in your hands, and read without paying attention to the world. As a consequence, you ran into someone.

“Zayne?” You cried out in surprise. He stared at you first, then at the book on the floor. He leaned down to pick it up.

“The secrets of Doctor Li?” Zayne read the title aloud. In a haste you used your hands to protect the book from his inquisitive gaze. When he returned it, you clutched it securely against your chest and purposefully turned the cover toward you.

“Well… This is…” You searched for an explanation. “My reference book…”

"Is that so?" Zayne's eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Another one of your reference books?”

You were perplexed while recalling that you had lately left another book in Zayne's office. Of course, you claimed that it helped you understand more about the medical field, and he had pointed out some of its factual misunderstandings. This time, just by looking at the cover, Zayne understood precisely what type of books you were reading, and they had nothing to do with medicine.

“I thought medical books were supposed to be displayed on the other side of the coffee shop, right?” Zayne replied nonchalantly.

“Ah… It was a bit crowded over there, so I moved to this area…”

Zayne turned around to look at the other side of the café. There was not a single person seen. On the contrary, the place you had chosen had more readers.

Realizing what a mistake you had made, you quickly pulled Zayne's hand out of there. “Let's go, Doctor Zayne! I've been waiting for you and now I'm hungry!”

A few days later, you caught Zayne intently reading something at his desk. Moving closer, you recognized the very familiar cover of the book almost immediately.

“The secrets of Doctor Li?! So you're reading it?"

Being caught in the act by you, since you had decided to come to the hospital on your lunch break that day without a notice, Zayne could only chuckle. He covered half of his face with the book, leaving only his eyes visible behind the pair of glasses. You knew he was adjusting the muscles around his face.

“Yes. Hello."

"You. Are. Reading. This. Too!" You uttered every single word as if this was a big deal. 

Zayne calmly lowered the book, closed then placed it neatly on the table. He replied:

“I also want to refer to some things from there.”

You appeared perplexed. “Didn't you say that this book is wrong in even basic healthcare knowledge?”

Zayne's serene demeanor belied a sense of perplexity in his gaze. His eyes never lied. He immediately turned away. 

"Medical expertise is not what I am looking for in it."

“What is it then?” You placed a hand on your chin thoughtfully. “Is there anything that even Doctor Know-It-All Zayne has to learn from love stories? Unless it's…”

You abruptly discontinued talking. It appeared you already knew the answer.

Zayne glanced at you for a brief moment. He pursed his lips, but it was evident he was smiling.

“People easily find what they want in fiction.” He explained. “For instance, if a girl likes to read romance, then she is waiting for such a sweet love story.”

“That doesn't sound like something Doctor Zayne would say.” You inquired once again: "Are those actually Yvonne's words?"

You guessed, given that you just witnessed the nurse passing the identical book to Doctor Greyson in the corridor.

Zayne confessed that Yvonne had suggested that he read the romantic novels you enjoyed to better understand you.

Zayne admitted that Yvonne had hinted that he should read the type of romance novels you liked to understand you better.

“I've never dated anyone before.” Zayne did not look you in the eye, but his fingers were squeezing your hand as he stood up. “At the start of our relationship, I had certain concerns. I'd want to know which type of partner you prefer, or how you wish to be loved."

You could not hold back the happy smile on your lips anymore. The fact that Zayne was so open about what he was thinking like this was enough to bring you closer to him.

“You can just ask me. Just like how you would always answer my questions about anything.” 

You took initiative to stand on tiptoe and wrapped your arms around Zayne's neck. He gently rubbed his nose against the tip of yours.

“I like to be loved by you in your own way,” you whispered very softly, just enough for the two of you to hear even though there was no one else in the office. “There is no need for any stereotypes. Just be yourself, because that's who I like.”

As soon as you finished speaking, you placed a gentle kiss on Zayne's cheek and added: "Do you find me easy to please?"

Zayne lifted you up and let your feet rest on his. “You are as easy to please as a three-year-old child. Just give you sweets and a few romance books, you would obediently sit still all day."

“As expected, the person who understands me best is certainly Doctor Zayne!”

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃 

During the summer, after graduating from high school and waiting for the official announcement from the Hunter Association, you spent the whole day lying at home resting. And, with so much spare time, you began re-reading literature that you had previously missed.

While you were giggling with a romance book in your hands, Caleb stepped in. He snatched it and said:

“Does Gran know you're still reading these things?”

“First,” you said. “Grandma is not at home. Second, I am old enough to read whatever I like now.”

You extended a hand towards Caleb, but he refused to give the book back. He quickly glanced at the cover, then looked at you with a serious expression.

“Pip-squeak, did you forget that I and Grandma had to confiscate your books?”

You crossed your arms over the chest and huffed at him. “Speaking of which, you were a snitch who told her about my books.”

“You stayed up all night reading until your eyes got dark circles.” Caleb laughed. “While you must focus on studying. Books like this will give you a false perspective on love. I'm just worried that any boy would say a few sweet words like in those stories, and you would give him your heart."

“Do you even know what I read?” You sighed. “But you got exactly what you wanted. I've graduated from high school without having had a single romance. Now give me back the book so I can continue daydreaming, okay?"

You sat up straight and were about to reach out to take the book back when he held it up higher. He shook his head.

"Not yet. I must read it first to ensure that this book is safe.”

He sat in another armchair and proceeded to open the book to the page you were already reading. Quick as lightning, you darted forward and placed your hands over to stop him.

"No way! This… You can't read it!”

Caleb glanced at you with perplexed eyes. With just one hand, he easily pushed you away. 

“I said, you can't read it!”

The more you attempted to reclaim the book, more firmly Caleb held both of your hands. He rapidly read the stuff you never wished him to know. You bit your lip and dropped your head to the floor in ashamed defeat.

He knew. 

He knew what you read. He knew what kind of love you were desperately hoping for.

A moment later, after about ten pages, Caleb turned to look at his sister, who was sitting on the ground in her pajamas and her hair undone still. You simply wanted to hide yourself away so he would never find you, since you knew he would only lecture you.

In fact, you were waiting for that lecture to happen, but Caleb said absolutely nothing for a while. He closed the book and placed it on the sofa.

“So…” He eventually spoke. “The story you are reading… Is it the romance between a brother and his sister?”

“Foster brother and sister.” You added it right away. “They are orphans… Like us.”

You deliberately said the last words in the most quiet tone. But Caleb heard it. He cleared his throat. 

“So you like romantic stories… like this?”

You covertly gazed at him before turning away immediately. This room suddenly became so airless.

When you were alone, you could let your imagination run wild. You could prolong the daydream in which you were free to express your feelings. Just like the heroine in the story. Yes, you adored that story, because it told you about the romance that bloomed between two orphans who were adopted and fell in love with each other as they grew up. You enjoyed portraying yourself as the female lead and dreaming that he was the male lead.

That was probably why you dated nobody during your school years. That was probably why you always waited for his vacation to greet him when he returned from Skyhaven.

You wanted to be connected to him in a different way than being his adopted sister.

Then he already knew everything. How could you simply bury this guilt? You dared not look at him anymore. Nonetheless, Caleb sat down in front of you, on the floor. His hand was placed very close to yours.

“Well… You could have told me that you…” Caleb stopped mid-sentence. You also did not know what to say in this case. Then he decided to leave.

During that weekend, you never spoke to each other save for brief phrases when compelled to say something. 

Caleb returned home the following weekend, but he arrived by the doorstep late at night. The unexpected summer downpour soaked him. You soon let him inside and after taking a shower, Caleb sat in the living room alone with his hair still dripping.

“You should dry your hair.” You spoke, in your hand a clean cotton towel.

Caleb grinned, but averted your gaze. "You usually help me with it."

You refused to say anything else and proceeded gently towards him. There was a chaotic sense between the two of you, as if a fire that had been smoldering for a long time suddenly flared up in violence.

You did not sit next to Caleb, but rather stood behind the sofa, drying his hair. Caleb's eyes were closed, he leaned back slightly, and his gorgeous face was directed towards you. If it had not been for the cotton towel, his hair and head would have likely touched your abdomen.

"It's done." You spoke quietly. You slowly took one step backwards. But Caleb reached out and held you back.

“Pip-squeak, don't go.”

You lost your breath and lowered the head to look down at him. His eyes opened a little, just enough to capture the image of you half confused, half expectant like this.

“Do you still read that story?”

Your head shook slightly as an answer.

"How come? Why did you stop?"

“It makes me… think about nonsense. Didn't you want me to stop reading those kinds of novels and hoping too much for a romance?"

Caleb laughed. His cold fingers touched your cheek, then slid down to the corner of your ruby lips.

“What a pity. The two characters in that story seemed to… truly be together eventually.”

He knew, since he had read ten more pages than you. You never picked up that book again after that day.

“Of course, because they are the male and female protagonists...” You replied in a soft tone.

“You can also be the main character,” said Caleb. “You are the main character in your own story. So… How would you write it?”

He looked at you for a long moment, waiting for your reaction. Waiting for a sign from you. Waiting for you to let him in. 

At last, you allowed yourself to be immersed in his touch, his breath and the delicate aroma of soap on his skin. You rubbed against his palm, your head lowered slightly to get a little closer to him. 

If you were the heroine in that story, you would hope this dream to never fade.

“I want… I want Caleb to be mine…”

[zhongrin]

𒆙 zhongli

part 7/8 of ⎡∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺⎦, a zhongli 2023 birthday event

© zhongrin | 2023  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

𖧷 tags ┈ fem!reader (you get called nǎinai), afab!reader (implied past pregnancy), you’re both grandparents with grandchildren, super domestic, teeth-rotting fluff, ocs: liwen & liwei

𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓊 ❬ masterlist ❭ 𐫱 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭

𝒾t would not be an over-exaggeration to say that there was no greater happiness at this moment than the way the innocent bright smiles of your grandchildren filled you up with warmth, even more so given the harbor’s chilly cold breezes of the night.

“yéye, nǎinai, bye bye!” the youthful cheers were just as energetic as ever despite the lateness of the night. the tiny mostly-humans waved at the both of you, some jumping and bouncing like overexcited hatchlings, others in a calmer manner reminiscent of your husband’s temperament.

“don’t run!” you reminded them as you waved back, a fond smile stretching your lips as you watched them walk further and further into the distance. the same expression made itself home on your beloved’s face, even as your not-so-small family turned around the corner, vanishing from view. a poignant silence blanketed the two of you, the solemn tune of tranquility momentarily accompanied by the squawks of the gulls passing overhead.

a gloved hand settled on the small of your back, and you inhaled deeply in pensiveness before following the guiding push. zhongli led you towards the calm docks, making sure to choose the flattest paths so your bad knees would have the least strain. as if that wasn’t considerate enough, you knew he was also attentively judging your condition from the way you gripped his arm to help you walk.

he was ever so silent and yet, you knew his head was full of many things. he seemed to be getting especially contemplative with each of the years that passed lately.

“….. liwen is turning out to be a wise mother,” he remarked after a few minutes of silence, “perhaps she had unconsciously learned the art of parenting from dealing with all of liwei’s sudden bursts of high energy ever since they were young, do you think?”

“perhaps… but i think she learned it from you,” you chuckled, “just like how she’d perfectly replicated your special slow-cooked bamboo shoots soup.”

“to be more specific, your slow-cooked bamboo shoots soup.”

“oh, i forgot about that,” you snickered, “’soup so good even rex lapis is hopelessly infatuated with it!’…. that past self of mine sure has great foresight, hm?”

“that you did, my dear,” zhongli chuckled, eyes twinkling just like that day, but this time with his convivial smile in full view. he had long since felt comfortable enough to bare himself in front of you, knowing that you would never turned up your nose against him across all of your lifetimes.

your conversation temporarily halted so you could focus on climbing up the small steps of stairs with zhongli’s help. a series of huffs and puffs later, you sighed deeply, one hand pressed onto your cheek as your husband paused in your walk just so you could take a little breather, “dear me…. i think for your next birthday i’ll have to spend it in a wheelchair.”

“then i shall be sure to speak to master zhang to get the commission started,” zhongli smiled, “may i propose a mechanism so it can only be pushed by someone who wields geo elemental energy?“

there he goes, flirting with you again.

“and whatever will i do when i need someone to help me push the wheelchair while you’re not around, hmm?“

“are you implying i will just abandon you at the side of the road? after all these years? you wound me, darling.”

“you’re so dramatic, i swear to rex lapis.”

eyes rolling, you shared a chuckle before continuing on your way back to your modest shared abode.

as you walked, golden shadows of the past clouded your eyes, the ghosts of the past playing moments remembered before the deserted streets, unconsciously creating an upward curl on the corners of your lips.

you saw the first time you walked back home, with the newborn twins tucked safely within yours and zhongli’s arms: with you panicking internally, because dear gods you were not ready for two babies, while zhongli merely gave you a comforting smile and tried to calm your nerves with his soothing reassurances. you saw the two of you chasing the two toddlers, nearly knocking over the pots of marigolds on your front porch: zhongli panicking because liwei’s shapeshifting had gone out of control and he was practically zooming about everywhere in his dragon form, while you couldn’t help but laugh at your husband’s attempts to lead him back home without attracting too many eyes. you saw the two of you seeing off the twins, the first day they insisted on going to school by themselves, because ‘all the big kids do it and we’re big kids!’: the both of you the most anxious you had ever been in your lives, despite knowing big brother xiao would be faithfully watching the little ones and would never allow any harm to befall them.

so many memories, so many years, so many birthdays... passed in the blink of an eye.

“hey, li…,“ you hummed and squeezed his arm with your wrinkled fingers, “…….. happy birthday. even if i won’t be here to say it next year, make sure to spend it with our family, okay?”

“yes, darling.”

“don’t get too lonely, okay? i’ll be back in your arms again before you know it.”

“…. i know, my dear.”

in actuality, he would gladly spend hundreds of birthdays without you, just to spend one birthday with you. but had he told you this, he had a feeling it would add a sad frown onto your lovely face, so he refrained. so instead, he planted a kiss onto your forehead, lined and creased with age and wisdom, with a fond whisper that carried the weight of his devotion.

“i know you always will.”

𖧷 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭ ┈ @abyssmal-skies | @hamdehlesmis | @depressivecomforts | @sunnshineflxwer | @yuutasbabe | @queen-belial | @stygianoir | @silentmoths | @niktwazny303 | @dustofthedailylife | @marina-and-the-memes | @mixed-kester | @lordbugs | @anonymousficreader | @shizunxie | @ansy-tea | @irethepotato | @sassy-cat-in-town | @syrenkitsune | @smokipoki | @cakeboxie | @crystalflygeo | @ciexuvia | @illaasya | @celestewritestoomuch | @pams-comfortzone | @spidermanluvr444 | @ourstrawberryclouds | @ryuryuryuyurboat

[chirpycloudyrobin]

Have you ever heard of Xianle? The grandest kingdom to have ever graced the Central Plains? Home of the Scrap Immortal Xie Lian?

Yes? Good. Good.

Now, have you ever heard of its Wei Clan? No? Well, perhaps not. Not many remember the commoner clans of fallen kingdoms, not even those as strange as Xianle's Wei.

Why are they considered strange, you may ask? Hmm, perhaps if you have time to spare, I may be able to divulge some knowledge lost to time long ago.

You do? Alright, here's what I know.

Xianle's Wei were Western Xianle but they were neither royal nor noble. They say the commoner clan lived in an isolated patch of land near one of the many lakes of Western Xianle. They also said the family cared for a grove of willows and cypresses and pines with magical properties, but no one can really attest to the truth of that now, can they?

Like all Xianle people, the Weis loved music and and beauties and art. Gold and precious jewels? Not so much. They would like to have them because they make life easier but they as a clan are pretty content where they were.

That was the impression they gave anyway as a clan that lives sequestered away behind their groves.

Hm? What did they look like? Why, like your everyday Xianle natives of course!

No, no, not like Taizi Dianxia Xie Lian. Dianxia is an outlier and we can't even dream of getting anywhere near his level.

Ah? You don't know how everyday Xianle natives look? Hm...

The people often say that Xianle natives are best identified through their eyes. The Wei clan were no different.

They say that Xianle natives have eyes best described as 如黑曜石般, like obsidian. Obsidian-dark of the starry skies. Deep, intense, captivating. If one looked into the eyes of a Xianle native, they would see the starry skies reflected back. Truly a beautiful manifestation of their natural brilliance as a people.

Xianle is- was a country of immeasurable wealth, talent and beauty, to the point where even the filthiest commoner could be a legendary beauty underneath all the dirt. Their natives' eyes are said to be a preview to the vast amounts of talent hidden within Xianle's blood. Taizi Dianxia Xie Lian was said to have the most brilliant starry eyes, and the golden hue of his eyes after ascension was simply the stars of his eyes shining at their brightest.

Ah, sorry. I seem to have strayed from my original topic. Back to the Wei clan.

Again, the Weis lived a secluded life with their willow groves. Those who visited their clan compounds talk about the peaceful beauty of the place and how that beauty was also reflected in the clan members themselves.

But jealous tongues wagged incessantly as well.

They say that the Weis paid something horrible in exchange for their beauty and talents. You see, there was a reason why the Weis lived so isolated from the rest of society. There was a reason why they loved and guarded their groves so fiercely.

The Weis were closer to beings of the afterlife than the living.

Do you know what their willows, cypresses, and pines have in common? They are often planted in graveyards.

Despite being a commoner clan that have never produced cultivators or soothsayers or mediums, the Weis are weirdly adept at communicating with the dead. The Weis communicated with the dead with an ease that many cannot replicate. They have soothed many fierce spirits that most would balk at using their words and occasional music alone.

But why didn't they gain fame and renown from their seemingly seamless communication with the dead? Perhaps it was because they were just a commoner clan with no notable ties to any gentry. Or perhaps they liked their peace better than the -ahem- very active gentry life. Either way, they rarely interacted with living people, and living people rarely interacted with them outside of requests to soothe the dead.

Some say that you could never know if you were talking to someone living or dead within the Wei compound because both sides apparently peacefully coexist in there. Rumours say that the Weis don't miss their dead for too long because most of them linger. They had no need to record their history in writing because they could easily contact their ancestors.

Ah, what happened to them? Who can say... Maybe the natural world has had enough of the living consorting with the dead. Maybe someone thought them too unnatural to continue existing. Maybe their dead spirited them off.

What we do know is that several years before the fall of Xianle, the kingdom woke up to the Wei groves burnt to ashes. The burn was apparently so thorough that no one could figure out if they were attacked or left in their own accord. No one could contact their dead.

Perhaps if they were gentry, the kingdom would've poured more effort into looking into their disappearance. But alas, they were just a commoner clan who was only slightly weirder than most.

One does wonder if their disappearance was an omen for what was to come. But who knows, really? Fate is fickle like that.

Hm? You know of a Wei? Two Weis? Are you sure it's 魏 and not 位 or 衛? Ah, so it's really 魏?

So they've popped up again after all these years? Who would've thought...

Tell me, do they still talk weird to the dead? Do they live around graveyards befriending all the ghosts?

Come, come, let's trade a story for a story yeah? Tell this lowly one all about these new Weis.

I certainly have forever to listen.

[fishyfishyfishtimes]

5 8 and 12!!

5. What features would your Perfect Treehouse have (realistically or not)? Hmm, waterproof ceiling, and also it ought to be waterproof overall so there’s no mold. Maybe curtains. Something soft to sit on like a sofa or mattress, but I’m also not really sure if that could handle moisture and develop mold? I may be thinking about this too realistically TToTT If it can be as unrealistic as possible I want it to be waterproof all over and also perhaps keep out the gnats and mosquitoes! And also a minifridge would be epic.

8. What underrepresented creature do you most want a plushie of? Channeling my inner child here, marine reptiles! I desired nothing more than a plesiosaur plushie as a young girl, I even formulated plans of how, if I could ever obtain a long-necked dinosaur plushie, I would tape on paper to its limbs to make them look like flippers and therefore make the whole animal look like a plesiosaur. Pliosaurus was another one I craved very very deeply, but that one I did manage to replicate with a Tyrannosaurus rex toy by.. you guessed it, taping green paper to its limbs to make them look like flippers. This particular toy had a disproportionately large head and arms and nonexistent legs, so the illusion was quite sound! I think child me would’ve flipped if she ever saw an actual plushie of her favourite reptiles, I think we really really need aquatic reptile toys in the world to satiate the thirst of water-and-reptile fans such as myself.

12. What's your favorite type of seashell / beach forage? Besides cockles, I like collecting the sand itself! Some places have very unique sand, either by colour or grain size or shape.

[lutiaslayton]

Um. Okay um. How do I put this.

I think we may have finally found some major hint coin lore.

Remember that infamous weird coin from Miracle Mask? Well, I had completely forgotten that there actually is some dialogue when it is found. And the Japanese version… is absolutely fascinating.

オウムさんがコインを落としていきました！ これは、ひらめきコイン…に、似ているが違うようだね。 ぜんぜん、ひらめきそうにありませんね。なんなんでしょうこれ…。 ふむ、名づけるとすれば、『ひらめかずコイン』といったところかな。 ひらめかずコイン、ですか…。

Luke: Mr. Parrot dropped a coin! Layton: This looks like an inspiration coin… but it’s different. Luke: I don’t think it’s going to give any flash of inspiration at all. I wonder what this is… Layton: Hmm, if I had to name it, I would call it something like the “un-inspiration coin.” Luke: A coin that doesn’t inspire…

Not to forget the item’s description once it is in the collection box:

ひらめかずコイン　ほとばしるひらめきのチカラを感じない。どうやらこれは、まがいもののようだな…。

Un-inspiration coin: The surge of inspiration’s power (力) cannot be sensed. Apparently, this seems like a fake…

Okay so. To break all of this down bit by bit.

ひらめき: “Inspiration” Coins

Inspiration would be the simplest way of translating the “ひらめき” part of 「ひらめきコイン」, the Japanese name given to hint coins starting from Diabolical Box onwards (in Curious Village and the original version of London Holiday, they are referred to as 「ヒントメダル」, aka “Hint Medals”). A full translation would be “flash of inspiration,” or insight.

So as this dialogue seems to say quite clearly, hint coins, in-universe, are coins that somehow give you a spark of genius when you use them.

ほとばしる　ひらめき　の　チカラ: The surge of inspiration’s “Power”

As ridiculous as this sounds, this really can’t get much more esoteric yet straightforward than this. Hint coins seem to radiate some sort of power, since this specific coin’s description says that contrary to a normal hint coin, this one’s “power” cannot be sensed.

Speaking of “power,” the word is written in katakana, which is an interesting choice. I honestly am not quite sure what to make of it, but I thought I would at least make a note of it. Specifically, the word チカラ / 力 has a lot of potential meanings to it, most related to strength, energy, power, you name it.

Anyway, what do we make of this?

The first and most important thing to be taken from here is what hint coins actually do when they are used. They give the user some sort of sudden Eureka moment, then disappear, perhaps by being dissolved into thin air as they lose their power.

This does not exactly say what needs to be done in order to “trigger” a hint coin into giving you some help, but this at least seems to say that the hint coin has some mystical power of some sort, and that the way it works is through literal… telepathy, or whatever you want to call it.

This, in itself, brings quite the interesting hypothesis:

Is this how puzzles could, for example, transcend language?

Just think about it. Anyone in the world can solve puzzles. Animals can solve puzzles. It does not seem like puzzles can actually talk. And how can puzzles even tell whether or not you solved them?

If puzzles and hint coins are made of the same stuff, or at least are connected in the way they function and coexist, then it seems logical that if one bases its powers on the mind, then so does the other one.

Additionally, what is that one Azran thing I have been talking about quite a lot every now and then that is also known to manipulate puzzles and read people’s minds? Yes, the Illusory Forest. The Azran Mechanical Trees have simply been replicating what natural puzzles and hint coins have been doing since the dawn of the universe.

The Azran have harnessed the power of one of the most intriguing constants of the world, and have been bending it to its will. When Aurora said that there was no puzzle [they] could not solve, perhaps this had to be taken far more literally than it seemed at first glance.

So let’s recap.

Puzzles are physical, tangible somethings that can move around on their own, like to hide, and according to the currently undocumented dialogue in LMJ in which Ernest feels like he is being watched by one, they may or may not stalk people passing by. The London Holiday tutorial has this interesting line in particular:

部屋の中をタッチすると、隠されたナゾが出題されます。

When you touch inside the room, hidden puzzles will question you.

In short, puzzles literally lurk in the shadows, then jump at you for an unprompted pop quiz. They do not speak, but they don’t need to; as both their questions and the flashes of inspiration provided by hint coins are merely the result of the mind’s active thinking—of the sparks of electricity that course through nerve and neuron, which seem to be in tune with whatever puzzles and hint coins are made of and/or like to interact with.

As a recap of previous observations already, puzzles are also capable of moving around, disappearing in a puff of smoke (according to Katrielle), being summoned from even distant places as if they could teleport if Granny Riddleton has anything to say about it (who, by the way, is said to be capable of “popping up” as well in the weirdest of places, like her cat and… well, I’ll just name-drop Pavel for fun even though he (probably?) has nothing to do with this).

(Screenshots graciously provided by @magicwhiskers29​)

So in the end, what’s the deal with this coin anyway? Is it like the Fashion Farthings from LMJ, a coin that looks like a hint coin but has little to no puzzle-related power, either because it has lost its power but somehow did not vanish, or because it was simply created this way, the same way you can have diamonds of multiple colours depending on the nature of the impurities in their composition? Was it man-made?

Given the fact that the gang instantly compares it to hint coins rather to, say, regular human-made currency (since it is canon that they have pounds, shillings etc thanks to various puzzles that show them in action), I would lean towards the former. After all, this coin is different from both hint coins and Fashion Farthings in colour, pattern, lack of “inspiration power” (though fashion farthings probably don’t have that either), and the fact that it has moss attached to it (if this part even means anything).

Regarding the pattern, it is of note that since LMJ’s hint coins look different from hint coins from the other games (and that the hint coins from CV also look different for no apparent reason), it is a wonder whether the pattern on the coin even matters, if it exists at all in-universe. I at least am in favour of the hypothesis that if hint coins display a pattern despite seemingly not being made by anybody, then patterns are far more varied than what we are shown by the UI.

So if this Enigma Coin reminds them of a hint coin faster than it reminds them of regular currency… Perhaps what remains is the one thing we, players, cannot feel: the texture. The material composing it.

Sadly, if we want to get any more specific than that, this question shall remain an enigma; but that enigma sure helped solve a much bigger puzzle than itself.

Now, if only we could have some kind of terminology to use in order to finally stop talking about “somethings” or “stuff” all the time, at least so we could put a word on what they’re even made of… It seems like whatever puzzles and hint coins are made of, what they have in common, would be some kind of material that is capable of interacting with the brain in some sort of capacity, like reading people’s thoughts or even memories; something that is also capable of moving around through long distances, as if it were capable of teleportation. Something that, surely, scientists in-universe should have been head over heels about, not just the Azran!

Sigh… It truly is sad that despite this, we will likely never get to have canon terminology for discussing this topic in more depth…

        Oh, wait. We do :)

[typingatlightspeed]

Hmmm..... What if pyro really wanted to take Engie on the best date he's ever had, and have dinner at the most Texas style restaurant with the biggest 72oz steak. And some extra fluff too because I'm a sucker for those two being bff's and lovers. Maybe it'll be a double date with two of their buddies that just happened to have the same idea?

TF2 Fanfic - Flesh and Blood

Filled with new clarity on his feelings about Engineer's body modifications, Pyro takes him out to dinner to talk about it and spoil him a little.

Ao3 Link! Part of Monstrous Intent!

Hope you don't mind I deviated a little, Dizzy!

---------

"So you see my problem here, Doc?" Engineer asked, gesturing to a drawing in a well-worn notebook that sat on his drafting table. "With arms and legs, I can observe 'n get good enough photos for easy replication o' detail, but with face and torso, I'm fightin' one hell of an uphill battle, 'n I'd rather not just rely on photography. It can only catch so much accurately, especially with the finer details, like depth of colour 'n subdermal stuff that shows through. And hair patterns."

Medic stroked his chin as he peered over Engineer's shoulder at his notes. It was one of many battered and rumpled spiral-bound affairs that contained his scrawling and theorizing on his life's passion project. "Perhaps degloving?"

"You think flayin' me's gonna be the best option?" Engineer asked earnestly, crossing his arms over his chest in thought.

"Nein, not simply flaying. It would need to be a degloving to preserve detail."

"The difference bein'?"

"Flaying is simply removing the skin from the body. Yes, often kept intact for preservation, but it usually does not bring with it the subcutaneous tissues, so the structure is not maintained. Degloving is usually from a shearing force, and removes the subcutaneous tissues still attached to the skin, which not only can help better preserve shape but also structure, which—I wager—will allow you to better map the details to your artificial reproduction. It will also protect against stretching or distending during the removal, which would be done with proper tools, rather than an actual shearing injury, of course," Medic explained, grinning excitedly. He wanted to go fetch his tools right away, even though they were mostly talking suppositions and theory for a much-later project. After all, Engineer had a lot to build before he started working on the exterior facade for a full-torso replacement.

Engineer nodded thoughtfully. "So how're we gonna work around respawn, is the next question? After all, you can take the skin off o' me, but it'll get picked up by respawn quick as the rest o' me, with nothin' to show for it save you havin' a fun afternoon."

Medic chuckled at that and walked over to the work bench, hopping up to sit on it and crossing his legs knee-over-knee. "We would need to keep you alive, then," he reasoned.

"I don't see myself gettin' much work done while I'm screamin' in agony 'n bleedin' all over the place what with havin' no skin." A little chuckle hefted out of Engineer at that, and he uncrossed his arms, leaning one elbow on the drafting table as he regarded his friend.

He loved these sorts of conversations. Medic was just as excited as he was to work on this project, as un-squeamish as a man could be, and made a great sounding board to bounce ideas back and forth. He'd never has gotten as far in his bodily conversions as he had without his friend's help, both by virtue of his surgical expertise in installing the new parts and in his way of figuring out a solution to damn near any problem, no matter how unlikely or outlandish. The word, 'impossible,' did not exist in Medic's vocabulary, and that fact alone made the man worth his weight in Australium.

Silence fell as both men thought, a few quiet 'hmm's filling the space. Finally, Medic perked up with a soft hoot of excitement. "I have an idea! The medigun regrows tissue easily, after all. All I would have to do is keep you alive, deglove you, and regrow the tissue, good as new!"

"That could work," Engineer hummed, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.

Medic hopped to his feet, talons clicking on the cement floor as he began to pace, one arm tucked behind his back, the other gesturing as he spoke. "I can medically induce a coma, then perform the degloving procedure while you are unconscious, so that your body will not go into shock from the pain! Then it would be a simple matter to focus the medigun beam on you, set it to high charge, and allow it to regrow your tissues, which would only take a few minutes at most. In fact, the whole procedure would be just a morning, really. We could do lunch afterward! Depending on how quickly you come out of the coma, of course." He tittered. "The removed skin and subcutaneous tissues would need to be kept in refrigeration or they would begin to rot within a day or so, but if kept cold, could last several days before they rot enough to discolour. I could store it in formaldehyde, but I would need quite a lot, and it may alter colouration and structure, which would make it useless for your study, then."

"Reproducin' it realistically would be an issue then, yeah. I'll just have to work fast, I s'pose," Engineer mused. "Worst comes to worse, we just do it again so I can get another fresh piece to work with."

"That is absolutely an option," Medic conceded. "Though I would assume the amount of labour this entails, plus the time sensitivity, means it would be best pursued during a furlough rather than trying to work around our combat schedule."

Frowning a bit at that, Engineer had to nod in agreement regardless. "Yeah. Shame to waste a vacation stayin' on base, but I guess that just means I gotta time it right. And make sure Pyro ain't got plans for us already once I do pull the trigger on settin' this up."

"Speaking of Pyro," Medic hummed, giving his wings a stretch, "how are things progressing with him?"

"With my prosthetics 'n all?"

"Ja."

"Well, ever since we figured out the magic of it, 'n the how of why the Australium's been the only material to make this cockamamie project actually work—somethin' that causes me no shortage o' consternation since it means I gotta admit I was just kinda chuckin' science at the wall to see what stuck—it's been a little better. He's still not too keen on me swappin' out healthy tissue, but he ain't all unsettled by the parts themselves anymore, now that he understands why they look the way they do to his magic sight."

"He needed to look even deeper."

"I could'a taken it at face value," Engineer countered with a shake of his head. "But I ain't gonna sit here 'n tell a man older than my species what reality is. That's way too philosophical for my reckonin' anyway."

Medic made a shooing motion with one gloved hand. "Bah, reality," he dismissed with a chuckle. "But I'm glad to hear things are getting better."

"Me too. And for once it wasn't my fault for bein' a stubborn horse's ass."

"I mean, you are one. It just wasn't the problem this time."

Engineer slugged Medic in the shoulder with his left hand, laughing all the same.

"I am surprised by one thing, however."

"What's that, Doc?"

"That you're able to recreate your own body with such detail, down to veins under skin and pigmentation variations. It's an incredible artistic achievement, Engie. Especially for a man without formal training."

"Oh, I got an art degree," Engineer countered, matter-of-factly.

"I thought all of your degrees were in hard sciences."

"All my PhDs are. I got a bachelor's in fine arts when I was workin' on post-grad for my bio master's."

"You're kidding."

"Nope. Also got an associate's degree from a two-year vocational course in special effects makeup. Once I decided this was what I was dedicatin' my life to, I knew I needed more than just the metal. Prosthetics are one thing, but a full body conversion should be able to look however you want. And I've gotten enough positive feedback on all o' this," he gestured vaguely to himself, "from fellas over the years that I'm keen to keep it."

Medic laughed. "You never cease to surprise me, Engie."

"Someone's gotta keep you of all people on your toes. Well. Talons."

The door to the workshop opening drew both men's attention, and Engineer broke out in a broad grin upon seeing Pyro slip through the door in his chemsuit, mask in hand. "Well hey there, darlin'!"

"Hallo Pyro! We had just mentioned you! Were your ears burning?"

"My ears are always burning," Pyro chirped, giving Medic a grin as he trotted over to Engineer and wrapped his arms around him. "Hey there, baby bear."

"What's up, firefly?"

"Wanna go out for dinner tonight?"

"Ooh, getting asked on a date by the hottest man on base!" Medic teased, taking this as his cue to leave, clapping his friend on the shoulder before heading for the door. "Have fun! Make good decisions! Don't do anything I would do!" he called, giggling as he slipped out of the room to the sound of exasperated groans.

Shaking his head, Engineer pulled Pyro close, threading his arms around the djinni's waist. "What's the occasion?"

"Demo told me there's a really good steakhouse in town, and I wanted to treat you," Pyro replied, nosing in to press a kiss to Engineer's cheek. "So, can I pick you up around five?"

With a chuckle, Engineer gave him a squeeze. "Sure thing, just gotta go get all gussied up."

"Oh good, one of us should be dressed appropriately, at least."

*

"You sure that's gonna be alright?" Engineer asked as he watched Pyro unscrew the side filter of his mask and thread a straw through the gasket inside. The straw led down into a hurricane glass filled with a bright blue beverage, a pineapple skewered with a paper umbrella mounted on its side.

"Oh yeah, it's fine. To be honest I messed up the seal on this mask a while ago so I only wear it for aesthetic reasons, not to actually filter anything. Work masks stay in my locker."

"So this is your casual, day-to-day gasmask," Engineer reasoned, smiling against the rim of his pint of beer.

"Look, when you can't let ninety-eight percent of people know what you look like, you learn to accessorize for the occasion," Pyro teased, punctuating with a sip. "Oh man that's way stronger than I expected. Really good though."

"It's bright blue."

"Blue is objectively the best colour for a beverage to be. That's just science," Pyro reasoned, taking another sip.

"Knew I should'a done at least a bachelor's in culinary," Engineer chuckled.

A slim young man in a smart black uniform rounded on the booth they shared, pulling a notebook and pencil from his apron. "And have we decided on food yet, gentlemen?" he asked, eyes lingering on Pyro, unsure if he used the appropriate form of address. "...o-or if you need more time, I can swing back around in a little bit." He looked to Engineer, then nervously back to the person in a full chemsuit and gas mask sitting in the middle of a steakhouse, and decided that, indeed, the stout man in a stetson, yoked shirt, and nice jeans was the one he should be talking to.

"Sure, I'll have—"

"The thirty-two ounce prime ribeye—rare—with the garlic and herb butter, and the loaded baked potato," Pyro interrupted, looking pointedly to Engineer, who could tell from his body language that he knew exactly what he was doing.

With a chuckle, Engineer shook his head. "You heard the man. That's what I'll be havin'. And, uh, add a side salad on there, too. Ranch dressin'."

"Anything else?" the server asked, eyes darting between them in confusion.

"I'll take the twelve ounce tenderloin, medium rare. With the sweet potato mash, and a slice of cheesecake. Bring that out in a to-go container with the check, though, okay?"

"You want the ribeye here?"

"Yeah."

"Sure thing, sir," the server replied, spine stiff, deeply unsettled as Pyro's darkened lenses seemed to stare right through him. "I'll—I'll go get that order in for you," he stammered, peeling off to be as far from the table as possible.

"The wild thing is, this is still more relaxed than people would be around me outside the suit," Pyro mused, shaking his head. He plucked the straw from his mask and sat up. "And a side salad?!"

"Ribeye with butter's a lot o' fat 'n protein. Even more so prime grade, all that marblin'. I ain't gettin' any younger, darlin'. I'm gonna need the roughage; keep things movin'."

Pyro snorted a laugh, reeling back in his seat. "Gross! So does that mean I'm not topping tonight?"

"That's gonna be your risk-reward calculation to make," Engineer chuckled, taking a sip of his beer. "So what's the real reason for all o' this, anyway?"

"I can't take my Delly Sandwich out for dinner?"

"You absolutely can, but spoilin' me with the nicest cut on the menu feels like more'n just general appreciation. This some kind o' occasion? I ain't forgettin' an anniversary, am I?"

Pyro laid a hand atop Engineer's and tilted his head a little, indicating a smile. "No, nothing like that. I just—I wanna spoil you a little. As an apology."

"An apology?"

With a nod, Pyro squeezed his hand. "For making things hard with the whole... cyborg thing. My hangups shouldn't be your problem." A gentle frown settled on Engineer's face, and he set his beer down to hold Pyro's hand with both of his. "Py, you got a right to feel how you feel about about it."

"Yeah, but not to expect it to change something you've been working toward your whole life, and finally have the tools to accomplish. That isn't fair. And it isn't right. And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you needed to choose between me and your life's work. I promise you: you don't, and you never will."

"Thanks, darlin'," Engineer said softly, giving his hand a squeeze.

"Actually, Soldier said something that got me thinking."

"Oh lord..."

"No, seriously! It's... it's like you said. You're not getting any younger. You're in pain basically all the time."

Nodding, Engineer conceded, "Sure. Some days are better'n others, but..."

"And a lot of that can't really be fixed short of replacing things. And sure Medic can do a lot with his exotic animal parts, but what's sturdier than machinery? It can be maintenanced, and cared for, and parts swapped out when they get too worn down. It can last. Dell, you're already middle-aged. And someday, you'll be an old man. And someday, you won't be. But I never age." Engineer averted his eyes. He'd never been a fan of thinking about that fact.

"I'm used to outliving lovers. But I don't wanna be. I don't wanna keep doing it. I wanna be with you as long as you'll have me, but it's hard when I realize that in what's the blink of an eye for me, I'll be burying you. I can't handle the idea of a world without Dell Conagher in it, which says a lot, considering just how long I existed before Dell Conagher ever did." Pyro dipped his head and took hold of both of Engineer's hands with both of his, lifting them to the front filter of his mask as a kiss. "That's how important you are."

"Pyro..."

"If replacing meat and bone with plastic and metal means you won't be in so much pain, and maybe I won't have to stand at your grave..." Pyro's voice choked out, his shoulders slouching, and Engineer knew tears were rolling down his burning cheeks.

"Oh, Firefly," Engineer sighed, rising from his seat to circle the table and scoot in beside Pyro on his booth seat. He wrapped his arms around him, and Pyro leaned into him and tried to hold back sobs.

He fought down his own anxiety about such a display in a public place, casting a glare at anyone who would dare look their way. Pyro needed him, and that was more important than anything.

He rubbed soothing circles on the djinni's back, holding him close. "I dunno if I can wring forever outta this project. But I can get more time. And with that time, I can figure out how to get even more time after that." He nudged a hand under Pyro's chin and tilted his face up, looking into darkened lenses with a warm smile. "So if you're tellin' me you wanna be with me the rest o' your life, I'm gonna do my damnedest to make that happen."

Pyro squeezed him tightly, burying his face in the crook of his neck, and let out a weepy little sigh. "Okay," he replied, his voice wobbly. "Sorry for crying; I didn't mean—"

"It's alright, darlin'. Took a lot to come out with all o' that. I'm just sorry we're in a restaurant so I can't hold you proper."

A dreamy little hum cut through Pyro's quiet sobs. "Later, then."

"If you're still cryin' later that's a whole problem," Engineer chuckled, leaning in to press a kiss to the crown of Pyro's mask. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Pyro sighed, nodding against him.

"Alright." With one last squeeze, Engineer let go let Pyro scoot over to give him room. "Want me to stay here next to you?"

"Won't it look silly, both of us on the same side of the table with nobody across from us?"

"Don't it look silly, a feller in a cowboy hat havin' dinner with a feller in a gas mask?"

"Okay, fair."

"Don't worry 'bout it, darlin'. I'll stick by your side, and if you need to lean on me, that's what I'm here for."

"Thanks." Pyro's smile was audible in his voice, and he nudged Engineer's shoulder with his own.

"You wanna hear a story, Py?"

"Sure," Pyro said, gathering his emotions back up and taking a deep breath to calm himself down. He half-turned, leaning against the side wall of their booth so that he could face Engineer as he spoke.

"When I was a little boy, I was fascinated with my grandaddy's Gunslinger. He built it outta necessity; lost his arm in some contraption, so he slapped that baby together outta steel 'n Australium, hooked it into his nervous system with a damn pair of pliers and a whole mess o' laudanum to calm hisself down. Worked better'n the arm he lost, 'cept he was always in pain from it. Never said a word about it; that's how he was, but I could see. The way he'd wince if he hit the cuff that capped his stump, or how he took to wearin' a leather glove over it when he was workin' in the sun, since it'd heat up real nasty. No insulation in the build, y'see. Kinda like how I did with my Gunslinger, 'cept I used rubber to insulate for when I'm workin' with electricty."

Pyro nodded, listening intently, sniffling a little and wishing he could wipe his eyes. Stupid mask.

"And that's the thing. I saw how that thing helped him, and how it hurt him, and I wanted better for him. I wanted to make somethin' better. Then the accident happened."

"Accident?"

"When I was ten, the horse I was ridin' got spooked by somethin'. Bucked me off. I landed bad 'n messed my back up somethin' awful. Herniated disks, messed up a few vertebrae. Ended up needin' surgery. Took a lot 'o physical therapy to get me back on my feet, 'n even more to get me back to fightin' trim. Could'a killed me, if I'm honest. I was lucky to be alive, but I sure didn't feel lucky."

"So your back's been bad ever since you were a kid?"

"Essentially," Engineer admitted with a half-shrug. "All the liftin' I do ain't that kind to it, though. I learned real young how to lift my with knees, but that wasn't to kind to them neither. By my twenties I knew I was cruisin' for a knee replacement by my fifties. Was basically a matter o' time, 'n put a hell of a ticking clock over my ability to take mercenary jobs, 'n work on the kind o' machines I really love. It was after my first PhD that I decided I was gonna start workin' on prosthetics as a personal project on top o' my schoolin' 'n refinin' my granddaddy's sentries, 'n my daddy's dispensers. Both of 'em did a pretty number on Australian teleporters with their iterations, 'n I did the same, too."

"You based your machines on your dad and granddad's blueprints?"

"Standin' on the shoulders o' giants," Engineer hummed. "Conagher tradition. Every generation has his breakthrough, but he also inherits a legacy o' the work that came before, to get him started out 'n learnin' to iterate on a design proper. Granddaddy Radigan invented the Gunslinger, so I invented fully artificial legs 'n arms that can adjust to temperature 'n serve as the base for upgrades, 'n housin' for 'em that looks like flesh 'n blood if the wearer wants it to. I invented a spine I can replace this ol' busted thing with 'n won't leave me paralyzed. Assumin' the Doc installs it right." He chuckled. "And eventually, I'll invent a total body conversion."

Pyro nodded, understanding more than he thought he ever had. It wasn't just curiosity, it wasn't just drive, and even though he invoked it, it wasn't just legacy either. Engineer was in chronic pain, so like anything else, he decided to solve that problem. That had been the start of it all.

There was something just so right about that.

"You're always in pain," Pyro murmured.

"And I can fix it," Engineer said, reaching across the table to retrieve his beer.

Pyro smiled behind his mask, wonder in his eyes. "I know I'm not a scientist, or a wizard, or even a particularly good artist or anything, but if there's anything I can do to help with your... transition, I will."

Engineer smiled softly at that. "Thanks, firefly. I could use the perspective of someone who knows my body real well," he chuckled. "And if you got any suggestions for upgrades."

Pyro tilted his head to the side in thought as Engineer raised his glass to his lips with his free hand, taking a sip. "...vibration."

Engineer choked, snuffling as he fought to keep beer out of his nose and gulped it down with great effort. "Pyro!"

[boundinparchment]

Dream a Little Dream of Me - XVIII

Celestia has a cruel sense of humor. He’s always known this, ever since his days as a student. But a soulmate? Really? Dottore/Female Reader Soulmate AU. Lore speculation, interpretations, etc. AO3 Chapter is Here.

You had a vague notion that you should be doing something.  It nagged, a rose’s thorn under your skin, persistent in its sting.  

Easier to ignore if you didn’t focus on it.  So you didn’t.

It would come to you.  

Eventually.

____________________

Yujing Terrace was absolutely packed to the brim.  Beyond the rooftops, you could see the dark waves of the sea beyond the harbor, an outline of a rocky series of islands cast in brilliant moonlight.

Everywhere, murmurs of wishes and speculations for the Rite of Descension in the morning.

Rex Lapis would come down from his lofty home and make his presence tangible for a single moment.

It wasn’t all that different from the Hydro Archon’s approach, considering she was only ever seen in Court.  Or perhaps that was simply a poor way to understand the love so many held for Rex Lapis.  You never heard of a god spoken of so lovingly, so respected for their own merit, not out of fear.

This year’s Rite seemed…strategic.  A Fontaine orchestra playing alongside a Liyue theatre troupe.  Dandelion wine from Mondstadt served by Dawn Winery itself.  A translated and bound edition of the tales of the Adepti, handled by one of Sumeru’s expert scholars.  You spotted a replicated suit of armor, delivered by the Pyro Archon’s own honor guard.  From the Tsaritsa Herself, a branch of a tree, glowing white with a power that you could only place as otherworldly.

The performance ended as all of them did, with bows and applause and a sensation of finality.  There were tears in the eyes of the onlookers.  It meant all of you had captured precisely what you’d meant to.  You, too, felt your eyes sting as you’d read the sheet music and listened to the singer, her voice like no other.

They stung even more when you caught sight of the scholar, dressed in Akademiya regalia.  Younger, certainly, but who else had hair the color of seafoam…

Gone in a blink and you were distracted again, jostled by your colleagues, attention stolen.

____________________

“Again.”

Your tutor raised their hand, poised for conduction, and you readied your fingers in return.  This was the fifth time running through the piece, from the top, and your fingertips ached to the point of numbness.

The last note held until you muted the strings and their vibrations ceased.

You jumped at the sound of clapping from behind you.  

“Beautiful progress.  I expected no less of you, of course.  It appears my persistence to your academic guards paid off.”

“Oui, monsieur.   I am glad you enjoyed it.  It still needs work, however,” you replied, peering over your shoulder.

He already interrupted you late at night as it was.  And he insisted you play for him whenever it suited him during the day.  Was even your time with your tutor, the single instance of the outside world, no longer sacred?

Not that you needed a tutor.  But you couldn’t rely on your perspective alone.  You would rot, otherwise.  Stagnate.

Hands fell onto your shoulders, a gesture that outwardly may have appeared to be one of pride.  You tried not to flinch under the weight of it.

“It sounded perfect to me.  Add it to the list of pieces for tonight’s banquet.  I want the Fatui to be impressed, comprenez vous?”  Do you understand?

The figure brushed their index finger against your cheek, the signet ring cold against your skin.  You tensed as the touch lingered, and you felt your hair being played with, as though you were a toy for amusement, not a musician.

“Je comprends, mon seigneur.  Ça sera fait. ”  I understand, my lord.  It will be done.

Hot breath teased your ear.  “Good.  And wear that dress I bought for you, hmm?”

You nodded, your spine ramrod straight until the door closed.  You were hardly the first, you knew, to end up in such a position, and it was nothing your tutor had never seen before.  But it was the first time your own patron had made such a brazen move in front of another who was not a member of household staff.

One look said everything you couldn’t.

“I will let you know of any openings I find,” your tutor said softly.  “But you will not find better patronage accommodations; anything else will not afford you the time to compose.”

“At the rate he keeps me playing, let alone anything else, I do not know if I have much of a career left at all.  And I’ve barely started.”

You didn’t recall walking your tutor to the door, finding your way to your rooms to soak your hands and get ready for the evening.  It was as if someone had shaken an hourglass and shifted everything around.

Usually, you were relegated to a corner during dinner, to play as everyone ate and conversed.  Little more than a distraction for your patron, really, whose eyes fell on you mid-conversation with his guests.  Your skin prickled.

Tonight, however, you were after-dinner entertainment.  Solo piece after solo piece as guests mingled, drank, and relaxed, no longer confined to a dinner table and only speaking left or right per course.

In-between pieces, you couldn’t help but notice the diplomat you heard so many whisper about throughout the night.  A Fatui Harbinger.  The Second, no less.  Blue hair, no, perhaps teal, you realized, his white suit immaculate and his gestures exact, his words arrogant rather than haughty.  He had no use for preening, as other men in the room did, you’d noticed.  If anything, his body language screamed that he wasn’t interested in any conversations except for those with your patron and a select few others.

Your patron, of course, introduced you to everyone.  All of them ignored that you’d played almost non-stop, shaking your hand without consideration.  You were pressed firmly to your patron’s side, his hand holding your hip as you’d only seen lovers do.  Beneath your dress, your skin felt as though it was on fire, wanting only to be free of his grasp.

“Lord Harbinger, you seemed to have quite enjoyed the performance.  If I may introduce you?”

Your patron’s voice was honey-smooth; you noticed a twitch in the diplomat’s neck, his mouth a firm line.

“He should give you a bit more of a reprieve, mademoiselle ,” the Harbinger turned directly to you, speaking freely.  “Playing back to back only to have you immediately make use of your hands…”

Rather than shake them, you found your own hand raised to the Harbinger’s lips.  Despite the upper part of his face being covered by a mask, you could tell from the cut of his jaw and his posture that he was more than he appeared to be, that he did not need eye contact to know a person’s nature.

“I am Il Dottore, Second of the Fatui Harbingers.”

“Very pleased, monsieur,” you replied, your name falling from your lips.  “I hope Fontaine has been to your liking.”

“It is near impossible to see anything beyond the persistent smog but I believe I have a source of inspiration for tomorrow’s meeting with the rest of the Triumvirate and the Archon Herself.”

You smiled gently.  While you didn’t know the inner workings of international politics, you knew when it was better to say nothing at all.  The Harbinger lowered your hand but did not let go, his thumb brushing against your joints, as though searching for something.

“Your patron really should take better care of you,” he said.  “Humans and machines are alike in that way.  Repetitive motions without rest, especially with such passion, is a risky behavior.  You play so beautifully, it would be a shame to pay such a high price when you have only just begun.”

It took you a second to realize that he was, in fact, attempting to ease the ever-present tension in your hand.  Your patron made a polite remark and dragged you away before you could excuse yourself.  When you finally had the liberty to gaze around again, he was gone in a flash of white coat tails, and all you could recall was the feeling of his gloves against your skin.

____________________

You wiggled your toes in the sand, the grains warm despite the cool waves lapping at the shore and your exposed legs.

At long last, all of your hard work, persistence, and passion paid off.

You grasped the letter in one hand, wondering how you would manage to break the news without risking your well-being even further.  It would be better to have someone with you.  Perhaps your tutor.  Presuming the session wasn’t canceled.  Your patron liked to do that, as of late, in favor of other activities.  You suffered for it two-fold, usually laid up in bed the next day, which was exactly what he wanted.

No longer.  Not once you left for good.

The national orchestra meant traveling, playing in a group, seeing the world.  No longer shut away, kept like a songbird.

Your grip on the object in your other hand tightened, the stone warm against your palm.  It’d appeared in the sand as soon as you’d opened the letter, glimmering in the waves like a seashell, calling to you.

A Vision.  Golden like the mora in your wallet, full of potential.  As soon as you touched it, you could feel each individual grain of sand, each tiny piece of Geo energy around you.  

You would carve your own path.  And you would not be at the mercy of the whims of fate any longer.

____________________

“Noor 'eini?  Where are you, I have wonderful news!”

You blinked, the voice so familiar and yet so foreign to you.  Before you, sheets and sheets of music, your pen wet with ink as you finalized your first composition’s draft.  A figure entered the room, teal hair askew and goggles pushed up to the forehead.

“I’ve been calling for you, are you well?”

Red eyes watched you, wide with their owner’s enthusiasm, tempered with concern.  Where had you seen such eyes before?

“I’m fine,” you replied, the words instant, as if you’ve said them forever.  “You’ve finished, then?”

“Yes, and it’s even more magnificent than I anticipated!  Come, I cannot put the final piece in place without you!”

Your beloved’s enthusiasm knew no bounds at times but he had been working on this project for years now.  You capped the pen and set it aside, thankful to no longer be at the mercy of an ink bottle, and arranged the sheets to dry.  As you neared the figure in the doorway, you watched his shoulders fall slightly despite your bright smile.

“You promise you’re well?  You look so tired.”

You felt tired but that was par for the course when you had deadlines to meet.  Tenderly, you pressed a kiss to one spot on his cheek that wasn’t covered with soot.

“I need the break anyway, Zandik.  Please, show me?”

Once again, that nagging feeling danced in your brain as you made your way through the house.  Only this time, it was accompanied by another flash of white, and a pair of green eyes as verdant as spring.

[moonlight-eternal]

Okay so, technology in this world runs mostly on things called "computer chips" or "circuitboards", there's probably one big one called the motherboard and maybe a couple little ones all hooked together inside your holocaster there. Each chip is a flat plate etched with tiny channels like special runes, and we put lightning magic into them, and the lightning flows down the channels and sometimes it can pass through a gate and sometimes it can't and the flow changes based on the shape of the runes and how much initial lightning we put into the channels in which spots. Got it so far?

Software is like a set of instructions for a circuitboard, to open or close its gates so that the magic flows through it in a particular way. Every action you do on the device sends a cascade of lightning magic which results in whatever you wanted to do happening on the screen, or over the network to other devices, and a software update just modifies the way the tiny lightning moves inside so it can do more things, or different things. You can download new software and the computer chips will modify themselves to use the new instructions.

...Just be careful when downloading things off the internet. If you see something advertising hot single women in your area, don't click it, there's probably bad software attached which will make your device do things worse instead of better.

........Hmm. That does make a little bit of sense. I still believe the most help would come from seeing such a thing firsthand, and testing mine own magic upon it, though my knowledge of lightning came from father Gwyn, whose use thereof was in felling dragons and thus far beyond the realm of fine-scale control.

It would be an interesting project, nonetheless. Another subject to study while I remain unable to find my way home, and perhaps even a technology I could learn to replicate in Lordran one day.

[sailingmakai]

@oraclememehacker // Continued from here; LINK

-----

oraclememehacker answered:

"Hmm?" She was currently writing some stuff down, which was a list of recipe ideas that she had in the even that Sojiro decided to make the place more than just a curry and coffee place. Yeah, that was what it was about, but it would be nice to have a few more things that were sold here right? Including Iced Cocoa as a drink since Futaba loved it.

As she looked up, she saw who it was and was realizing who it was. Futaba had indeed talked about him, this guy who travelled between worlds and had some really interesting stuff to him. "No, I'm not busy. Not with anything important anyways. This just a recipe list." She showed him it since it wasn't a big deal. "So, you're the one who hops between worlds via a travelling ship right?"

"Oh-! Oh, well - I'm still a bit sorry for interrupting, but it's good to know it's not something direly important." Or not something on a time limit, or secret. Though Akira supposed one could argue that recipes could be secret with her, depending on how she thought of them... Oh well. Not important right now-

"That would be me, yes. A... debatably Cognitive galleon-like ship, I'm not 100% sure one what it is or how it works, just... how to steer it." Unfortunately. Or perhaps for the better, since it meant it couldn't be replicated. "Couldn't tell you where it came from either, ship's mostly a mystery to me. Unfortunately. Probably the only thing I'll be disappointing with, answer-wise~" He chuckled, grinning slightly. "Or at least I hope so- I'd hate to be boring, where talking about the multiverse is concerned."

[elllerian]

" 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐢 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐫𝐞? " he had, of course. once in the morning when the sunlight streamed in through the stained glass windows, her beauty awash in arrays of citrus and gold. once in the afternoon just before he retired to the council's chambers to hear of the littany of burdens that befell stormwind since just last week. enough times where he was certain that she would grow weary of hearing it — but he meant it.

light knows he meant it.

in all of his years, no one had ever been quite as astonishing to him as his wife. even well before they had truly become accustomed to one another; her smile could render him breathless and he could swear to the heavens above that she was the only one who could ever bring him to his knees if she willed it. it is the evening now, a time that was only for them and their child who had not yet been born, but the swell of her belly grew by the day, just as the king's love for her and whoever their child may come to be did.

he outreaches, taking her by the cheek with a gentleness that was so often lost upon the warrior king. varian brings her closer into his arms, if only to press a kiss to her forehead, then to the tip of her nose, and finally concluding against her lips for a lingering moment of sheer devotion.

" before you say anything clever, i remember that i have ... but perhaps you could humor me a little this one time, hm? "

VARIAN LOVES HIS WIFE HOURS.

husband ♡

— @throned

The callouses on his hands denounce years of sword practice of one prepared for the role of warrior no less than he was to be prepared for the role of king. In their chambers, he is neither. Both crown and sword are but fragments of all he is; here, he needs no more than be himself, armor and mantle set aside.

It takes her aback, sometimes, how completely Varian claimed her heart for himself. What follows is always gratitude — there are as many stories of matches like theirs that led to sorrow as there are leaves in a tree. Instead, they have this: each other, and a bond that duty alone could scarcely replicate.

Varian (this one, entirely hers, vulnerable as he cannot often allow himself to be) is more undoing in that gentle touch than the strength he was widely known to have. Tiffin melts easily upon contact, the amused curl of her smile softening further as blue eyes close; a complete surrender to his affection, basking in the loving contact of his lips as a cat would in sunlight.

To say she would never be accustomed to it would be a lie: she is, already; unable to imagine herself without him, unwilling to entertain the thought. Nevertheless, she knows it will never lose its wonder, to wake by his side, peaceful ere the troubles of the day can get to him, to hear his voice whenever the mood strikes him to offer her sweet words, to taste the devotion in the kisses he offers and to share quiet moments such as this, illuminated in candlelight and allowed the peaceful sanctuary of each other's embrace — there is an endless list with every little reason why this must be some sort of magic on its own, more than any elemental mastery could claim to be.

Long fingers settle on the back of his neck, brushing dark hair gently, as her other hand rests upon his chest. He brings them close, and she finds her place there easily, his arms around her a perfect fit. When the last kiss is broken and she looks up to meet his gaze, there is amusement in her eyes, light laughter following. "Hmm, I was beginning to worry about your forgetfulness."

Yet if the teasing cannot be entirely avoided, when she speaks again there is naught but sweetness in her words. "You can say it again, one more time or a thousand — I will never tire of hearing it, my love, so long as you are the one to say it."

[theheadlessgroom]

"And despite saying looks aren't everything, you always fixate over mine." Constance haughtily remarked, "Hmph! For one who claims there's more to love than good looks, you can't seem to understand how my husbands ever fell for me. There are plenty of ways to make someone fall for you. Why Ms. Emily barely had to do anything to make you fall for her." She snickered with a wry smile, "Part of me thinks you might just be jealous." "And besides, for as 'terrifying' as she may be, you still don't see her around, do you? I don't believe either of us have any control over that whatsoever." Constance twirled a lock of hair around her fingers, staring off dismissively, "Who knows? I may even come to replicate her 'talents' someday." The Black Widow smirked, next interlocking her fingers. "After all, your bride exists in memory, surely, but who here has merchandise with her name and face on it, hmm? And who here has blood on their hands? Emily may have disturbed, but she's no killer." Though her grin quickly became more malicious as she added, "I'm sure you and the man she was meant to marry can attest to that." Constance outstretched her arms, tilting her head back slightly as she sighed, "Perhaps I could've loved him, from what you've said of him, he sounds like my type. Though, perhaps if he were richer." She twisted her arms around again to hold her shoulders, "After all, if he were marrying Emily for her money, that means he probably didn't have much himself, did he? Sorry, but even if I can respect his mentality, I could never be with such a pathetic man. What's there to gain?" She smiled serenely, "...Well, apart from a wedding of course. Those are always lovely to attend. My weddings were always the talk of the town in my life, you know?" She chuckled a bit from behind the back of her hand, fondly reminiscing, "And I'll have you know I don't JUST think of murder and money. How blasé. My husbands can attest that our marriages are perfect and that I am a wonderful bride, they're all perfectly happy and content in our relationship, even if they don't have much of a choice otherwise." She paused for a moment, before continuing, looking off, "...And yes, yes, it was a figure of speech. Honestly, as if her going on about that wasn't bad enough as it is. That girl never shuts up about it." She rolled her eyes, clearly thinking about the other stretching portrait ghosts.

"Oh, please," Randall rolled his eyes at the "jealous" comment-pretty bold claim in his book. "I just don't understand what any of your husbands would see in you: You're not particularly attractive, and your personality isn't much better. I suppose the only answer is that either you were that good an actress (which I doubt...), and your husbands were all blind as bats. Either way, poor bastards.

"And believe me, Constance, the chances of you becoming anywhere nearly as frightening as my Emily are the same as the chance of pigs sprouting wings," he snorted. "And she's a far better woman than you could ever be-you're pathetic, making your money by burying a hatchet in the necks of love-hungry men. You're not better than her just because you have the willingness to kill. You're nothing but a monster-you say you love your husbands, but what you really love is their money, and the attention you probably got after you killed them. You probably kicked up some big ol' crocodile tears for the press, didn't'cha? Tragic widow, oh, everyone come gather 'round the poor, heartbroken young bride! And all their wealthy friends did come along to comfort you, and you had a whole lotta new prey...

You're nothing but a soulless witch, Constance, and I wish when you kicked the bucket that Ol' Scratch came along to take you down to Hell as his bride. Though that might be too cruel to do to even him, honestly."

[x-rds]

Yeah we kinda prefer the ds for things like "having different mechanics that the remasters can't replicate"

Like for 999 and for hotel dusk, some parts require you to do things with the ds that I don't think a remaster could easily replicate (and the remaster actually screwed up the final puzzle for 999, it doesn't have the same emotional impact as the ds version. Also, talk to me about 999 I'm as normal as any introject could be about it.)

But the part with the audio makes sense, seems like the game relies on music a lot to keep up the "hip and trendy" atmosphere. And it's very good, I think one song in particular reminds us of another game but I'm not sure what.

Oh and I actually have some questions about the release. I was reading a small excerpt from Game FAQ about it's release. Apparently there was little to no advertising for the game, but because word of mouth about the game spread so much it sold out on it's release day. Just because all the game stores ran out of copies for it. Is this true at all? Is there anything else talking about it's release date?

Oh we need to play 999, it’s been on our list of things to play for a while. Maybe once we get a chance to bring our DS back from the states we will.

But yeah, music themes are a huge thing in the game both in atmosphere and in worldbuilding so they really wanted it to sound good haha.

Hmm, I’m not sure about that bit - I’ve read a lot about it and I don’t remember seeing anything about it selling out day one, nor anyone talking about that online, but I suppose it could have! I do know it had a bit of advertising - but it wouldn’t surprise me if it wasn’t a lot. Subsequent releases and the sequel all had pretty poor advertising as well. (When the switch port was coming out, I’m pretty sure Nintendo did the bulk of advertising for it - which frustrated a lot of people. SE didn’t even show it for E3 that year despite it being their game, and it showed up just shortly in the Nintendo ‘coming to Switch’ reel...)

That said, word of mouth definitely did a lot for it. The DS release did ok but not amazing in Japan (maybe a failure of advertising again, I’m not sure, but based on their track record...) but it did far better in English speaking countries - perhaps thanks to the great localization. The game is good in Japanese - but a lot of flavor is added in the English version thanks to the script localization that I think really enhanced it. (There’s one bit that’s a spoiler so I won’t say it yet, but there’s a small script mistake only in the DS version that a lot of people really liked because it felt like a sneaky hint instead of a mistake and I’m sad they removed it from subsequent versions because it was great.)

[pukanavis]

Neon MFD ‘23 Memory Story “The Good in Me, The Good in You” Part 2

Neon: Wow…

Chrom: Oh my…this looks far larger than I imagined it would be.

Neon: Yeah…it’s amazing.

…Ah, there's sculptures over there.

Chrom: Please wait a moment, Neon.

Neon: Why?

Chrom: Before our visit, I took the time to research the most time efficient route for viewing everything the exhibit has to offer.

According to my findings, it would be best for us to go in a clockwise rotation from the entrance.

Neon: Then…do we start from here?

Chrom: Precisely. Let’s be on our way.

Neon: Yes, let’s.

♡　♡　♡

Neon: This sculpture looks cool…

Chrom: It appears that this sculpture was created to replicate one that was crafted approximately 300 years ago.

It’s a gate that was featured in a prominent poem that was written long ago.

It would seem that this is a gate to a place known as “Hell”.

Neon: Hell…? What’s that?

Chrom: It is believed that after a human’s body dies, their souls will go to either a place known as Heaven or one called Hell.

From what I’ve heard, Hell is a terrifying place ruled over by the Devil—a sinister demon.

Neon: Hmm…I don’t know much about that, but I think this sculpture is really impressive.

Chrom: Certainly. It’s unbelievably magnificent.

The original sculptor spent many years working on it but ultimately, he never finished it in the end.

Neon: This isn’t finished?

Chrom: Apparently so.

Neon: …Maybe he wasn't happy with the end result?

Chrom: Huh?

Neon: This sculpture is decorated all over with people that look like they’re in pain.

It’s like I can feel the suffering of the sculptor too…

Chrom: I see…

Though, it’s unimaginable to think the feelings of someone from so far in the past could still be conveyed…

Neon: Yeah…I think it’s an amazing work of art.

Chrom: As do I.

…Well then, shall we proceed to the next one? There’s still an ample amount of sculptures to see.

Neon: Yes, let’s go.

♡　♡　♡

Neon: Fufu…this one is kinda cute.

Chrom: These…seem to be animals. They’re rabbits, yes?

Neon: The sign here says that it’s two rabbits boxing…what’s boxing?

Chrom: If I recall correctly, it’s a combat sport of sorts. It involves two people wearing gloves on their fists hitting one another in the face or upper body areas.

Neon: So…it’s a sport that humans play? That sounds like it must hurt, right?

Chrom: It does seem that way. Although, perhaps it’s a game of pursuing a strength that surpasses that pain.

Neon: Hmm…y’know, this sculpture kind of looks like they’re playing too.

Chrom: …Oh! I can certainly see that, now that you mention it. In a way, it looks like they’re having fun.

Neon: It’s nice. I like it.

Chrom: As do I.

Neon: …The next one is this way, right?

Chrom: Yes, it is.

Back | Next

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Love em' and leave em' is there going to be part 3 ?

There is now 🥵

Love ‘em and Leave ‘em [pt.3] || Bucky

Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, smut, oral (f rec), unprotected sex WC: 1.8k

main masterlist || bucky masterlist || part one || part two

Every instinct of yours told you to run, to get out that door and get as far away as possible. On the other hand, a small ache in your chest hinted at a larger pain you would feel if you were to leave. This was breaking every rule.

“Here, you look like you could use it.” Bucky chuckled as he handed you a large glass of wine.

“I didn’t pick you for a wine drinker.” You frowned as you accepted the stem.

“There’s lots about me that would surprise you, if you got to know me.” He teased as he sat down on the couch beside you.

“What are we doing Bucky?” You sighed as you ran your finger around the ring of the glass just to keep your fingers occupied. “If you want to know more about me, I’ll give you my file but this just feels weird. I mean, we have had sex on this couch more times than I can count and now you want to casually chat?”

Bucky shrugged and stretched his arm over the back of the couch, fingers delicately trailing along your shoulder. “I’m not saying sex is off the table.”

“Well that’s a relief.” You rolled your eyes. “It’s the only reason I’m here.”

He smirked as he raised the glass back to his lips, a small sip savouring the flavour while you tipped yours back and emptied it. He was right, you did need the drink if you were going to be having such a heavy conversation, especially for a Tuesday night.

“You don’t have to lie to me, doll. You knew the deal when you came here.”

“And now I am regretting it.” You muttered under your breath as you placed the empty glass on his coffee table. “I’m not sure what you are hoping to prove if I stay the night.”

“That you actually like me.”

“I do like you Bucky…when you're busy using your tongue to make me cum and not talking about feelings.”

He placed his glass on the table beside yours and pushed you back into the couch so he could spread your legs and fill the space between. His hands shoved your dress up to your hips and he ran his fingers over your mound, pressing the thin fabric into your heat. This was what you were hoping for on his return from his mission, this was the release you were chasing and that your fingers couldn’t replicate.

“Hmm, you can say you don’t like talking but look how wet you are.” He teased as he brushed the fabric aside and gathered your arousal on his fingers so you had to watch him lick them clean.

“Bucky…” You groaned as his touch disappeared and you squirmed with the need to feel it again.

“Don’t worry, I missed you just as much.”

His lips placed light kisses along the inside of your thigh, the tickle of his stubble sending goosebumps across the skin. The feeling was so foreign to you that it almost seemed to give you a brain freeze and you couldn’t remember how to breathe. Everything was alway hard and fast, passionate and violent sex. You didn’t know he could even show restraint let alone take his time to make love.

“What are you doing?” You gasped as the word crossed your mind.

“I’m getting to know you.” He breathed across your skin as he began to make his way up your other leg. “Every inch of you. Close your eyes.”

You stared at him for a moment, wanting to know if there was some trick but his intense blue orbs looked sincere so you blinked a few times before closing them completely. Your ears were sensitive to every sound, the blood rushing through your head, Bucky’s timed breathing or the quiet smacking of his lips as they kissed your skin. You heard it all and it left you dizzy.

A soft moan fell from your lips as they parted, your muscles relaxing under his hands that massaged them and still he kept bathing you with his kiss. Perhaps this was how the gods felt when they were worshipped, it was no wonder they had such big ego’s, the high was intoxicating. Spots of light flashed behind your eyelids as you felt him getting closer to where you needed him most.

“Lay down.” Bucky ordered and you moved so that you laid down the length of the couch. “Good girl.”

You waited for his touch, about to peek out from under your lashes when cold liquid drizzled across your stomach. A gasp jumped from your lungs at the sudden unexpected chill before Bucky’s tongue lapped it up, the sharp scent of the white wine added to the sensual experience. He could feel your body shiver and you felt the rumble of his deep chuckle more than you heard it.

His fingers dipped between your legs and he hummed in appreciation. “So fucking wet for me.”

“Please, Bucky, I need you.” You whined as you felt the throbbing deep in your core that hadn’t been reached since he left.

His resolve was breaking as he watched you squirm for him with desperation, your eyes screwed shut and mouth open as he worked his thick digits in and out of your pussy. Unable to deny either of you any longer, he pulled his hand away and told you to open your eyes. You blinked slowly as you were blinded by the bright lights above you and took the hand he offered you, pulling you onto shaky legs before leading you to his bed.

“I was half expecting rose petals scattered everywhere.” You joked as you looked around his tidy room.

“It crossed my mind.”

You weren’t sure if his smile said he was teasing or if he actually had thought about doing it. You weren’t sure what shocked you more, that you didn’t turn and run or that you would have found the notion…sweet. He seemed to notice you were getting lost in your head again and he dimmed the lights before pulling you to his chest and capturing your lips.

The kiss didn’t end, even as he sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled you over his lap, his cock straining against his jeans and you rolled your hips to get the friction you desperately needed. You both broke away with the need for oxygen and he laid back on the bed, tugging you higher up his body.

“You wanna cum babydoll, then get up here.” He said as he patted the space beside his head. “I missed your taste.”

You climbed his body at the promise of release and settled yourself over his face, his hot breath warming your damp thighs before his tongue reached your folds. Your head fell back in ecstasy as he explored your slit with his tongue, moaning to himself as he tasted your juices that were flowing from you before giving your sensitive pearl some love.

“God, that feels fantastic.” You moaned as your hips began to roll, pushing his head into the mattress and you tried to feel more. “I’m gonna cum all over your face, Buck.”

You couldn’t make out what he said with his mouth full but it sounded promising and when his hands cupped your ass and ground you against him even harder, you were done. Bolts of lightning splintered your body and you cried out as your legs began to tremble around his head, clit pulsing over his tongue as he let you ride out your orgasm against it.

Your head was spinning as you collapsed onto the mattress beside him, a lazy grin across your face from the sheer intensity of your orgasm, all thanks to the slow build up he had given you. You couldn’t believe both of you were still pretty much completely dressed with the exception of your panties laying discarded somewhere in his living room.

“You are way overdressed for the evening's activities.” You said as you tugged the button of his shirt open and began to pull the material up over his abs as he smirked.

“Plenty of time for that, we are just getting started.”

You were 99% sure if he wasn’t pinning you up against the shower wall that you would have sunk right down the drain as his hips pistoned into you. All you could do was hang on for dear life as another orgasm ripped through while you were meant to be getting clean. You had figured out his ploy was to fuck you until you couldn’t walk because then you couldn’t leave before spending the night and you had to give it to him, it was going to work.

“I can’t, Bucky, I can't, it's too much.” You whimpered as he dared to elicit another orgasm from you before he came.

“You’ve had more than this before.” He strained as his own release loomed over him.

“It’s different.” You admitted quietly as you bit your lip. “These are so fucking intense, please, Bucky I need a break.”

Your begging seemed to break him and his hips dug into you before he stayed buried as deep as he could get, his breathing in your ear and his cock throbbing in your cunt. “Fuuuck. Holy shit.”

Your arms hung limp around his neck as his strength kept you upright and you sighed with relief after enduring so much pleasure you couldn’t possibly take anymore. Gently placing you back on your feet, he checked your legs weren’t about to collapse under you before washing your body clean, then his. You might as well have been a ragdoll considering how boneless you seemed to be.

“You can rest now.” He said softly as he laid down beside you, your eyes heavy and already beginning to close. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper as you drifted off to sleep, body curling into his. “Goodnight, Bucky.”

A moment of peace washed over you as you opened your eyes, the morning rays casting golden light over the room. You thought that the shadows made Bucky’s jaw look even more defined and your finger traced the line before your mind caught up and you froze.

“Hey.” He smiled as he opened his eyes, the blue pale in comparison to how dark they were last night. “Are you okay?”

You didn’t trust your voice so you nodded, a thousand thoughts running through your head. There was the urge to escape, the urge to lie, the urge to stay and the urge to tell the truth - so many urges you didn’t know which would prevail. Opting for some place in between you accepted his kiss as he pulled you closer into his embrace.

“I will be.”

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[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Hmm can you do a licorice cookie x reader human au? Idk if this is an au but basically their humans and not cookiesbut maybe reader works at library and Licorice comes often but strictly so that he could see reader? Basically reader being oblivious to licorices obvious crush on them, sorry if this is not specific enough!!

"Hello, where can I find your most sinister--I-I mean most informative books on necromancy?"

As you were all done shelving the books, you turned around to meet the eyes of your customer.

You never knew what to expect when people entered the library, often coming from distant lands with their royal outfits and crazy hairstyles. From knights to bandits to actual werewolves...everyday was a surprise.

This man in particular might as well be the grim reaper, wearing a robe that looked hastily-sewn together and a skull necklace. His licorice-black hair fell over half his face, showing only one golden eye.

Intimidating for sure, but you simply smiled. "I don't know off the top of my head, but I can show you where our horror fantasy section is."

"That'll do." He grinned, not at all sounding as menacing as he did previously.

"I should let you know, though, that we have a policy against bringing large weapons in here." You politely explained, pointing out the bone scythe he was holding and a nearby sign. "We just don't want any books or displays falling over."

"Awh.." Grim Reaper Man pouted. "Guess one of my minions can hang onto it outside. Schwarzwälder!!"

Then he bolted away very suddenly, leaving you standing there alone. But you just waited for him to return, now scythe-less.

"I feel less evil without it.." He sulked a bit, though when he heard you chuckle he tensed up, feeling his chest fluttering.

'What was that? What happened just now..?'

"Even evil knows when to follow the rules. Now lemme show you where-"

"L-Legion."

"I'm sorry?"

"That's my name...n-not that I would tell you my real name anytime soon." He sneered, trying once more to keep his image up.

"Oh, that's a cool name." You chuckled once more as you both walked to the horror section. "I'm [y/n]."

'Th-They think my name is...cool????' Once again, Legion got that funny feeling in his chest.

A feeling that wasn't good nor bad, but simply foreign.

'Are they cursing me?? No, no..they're just being nice. It's their job, stupid.' While distracted by his own confusing thoughts, he didn't realize you both arrived and you were currently searching for a book similar to what he asked for.

Finally you found one and handed it to him. "Well you're in luck. This is only the first volume but.....Legion?"

"H-Huh?! Oh..right. Thanks." He took the book from you, looking at the title. "Ah yes..this shall serve me well. Is there a chance you'll get other volumes?"

"I'll look at our database, but until then you can check back over the next few days in case anyone returns them. I'm here all week so if you need any more help don't be shy."

"Shy? Me? Hah! I would never shy away from an opportunity for more power....o-or rather knowledge of how I can replicate this power, of course..."

God, why was he getting so tongue-tied over nothing?

The moment he turned to leave, he felt his face growing warm as he stared down at the book. Though when he overheard you helping another visitor he glanced over his shoulder, seeing Hero was asking you about some chemistry mumbo jumbo.

He scoffed, but then wondered why he instinctively scoffed.

Was he...catching feelings for someone he just met? Who was only doing their job and may not actually be this kind at home?

Legion knew he shouldn't let his emotions go astray. Not when he's trying to win the Dark Enchantress' favor. She comes before all else...

Or so he convinced himself until now.

After checking out the book, he exited the library with a huff, much to Brute's confusion "What wrong, master?" He handed the scythe back to him."

"N-Nothing."

"...you seem interrrested in-" Bat-Cat began.

"Silence."

No. He wasn't going to let any silly emotions or thoughts about you get in the way of his quest.

All he'll return to the library to do is research and find the books he needed. Nothing more.

............

As it turns out, you were the only reason Legion kept coming back to the library. He found himself wanting to spend more time with you.

If you were on break or not immediately available, he would browse around until Bat-Cat spotted you or used his echolocation to pinpoint your footsteps.

Yeah..that's a little creepy to anyone who knew, but being creepy was the dark sorcerer's specialty!

Despite denying it again and again, his two main minions weren't that dumb. They knew their master had a crush on you and came up with several plans to push him to confess, while still maintaining his villainous image. Perhaps you could be his evil sidekick!

The only problem?

You were oblivious to all their efforts.

It never occurred to you how flustered Legion got when he asked you to help him find something..only for you to jokingly remind him he asked you the same question just yesterday.

Even when Bat-Cat and Brute encouraged him to partake in the "ritual of exchanging phone numbers" and hang out at a nearby café, you just saw it as him wanting to be close friends. Nothing more.

But he, on the other hand, saw you as someone who could fill that gap in his cold and almost-empty heart. Unlike the enchantress he often complained about in his journals, you paid attention to him when nobody else did.

Not to mention...you were actually sweet to him even outside of work, once you got to know him better and learn why he turned to dark magic. Of course he fibbed some of his "tragic backstory" simply because he wasn't ready to tell you the truth.

All the while he fell for you more and more.

Part of him was scared that he's setting himself up for heartbreak. He was already alone enough and didn't know much about love. Heck, he refused to even ask others who were more knowledgeable about this because of his pride.

He wasn't sure if you realized yet...or if you even saw him that way, too.

Until then, though, he'll keep trying.

For once, he wanted this plan to work.

[thecraftymagician]

Other Gift Ideas for the Main 6:

In honor of the new story, the Heartsong Festival, that got added today I came up with some gift predictions/ideas when starting it. I won't spoil any of the ones in the game but I'm kind of surprised at how close and vastly off I was haha but let me know what you think!

Asra 💜

Why was Asra the trickiest? What do you get for the snarky magician who has everything? They might have a.. unique sense of fashion to some but it does give some inspiration. Perhaps matching hats, scarves, or tops for you both and maybe one for Faust too!

A new travel bag or satchel. They're always on the move and going on adventures, it wouldn't be a shock if their luggage became worse for the wear. You could replace it or maybe you can repair it for them after they threw it out believing it to be finished. Nope! Good as new with quirky, adorable patchwork and designs from his favorite.

A tapestry or some kind of hanging. Maybe it has foxes, constellations or is even from somewhere you traveled together months ago. Good thing you're good at packing so he didn't find it! Or maybe you meant to give it to him sooner and forgot.. It doesn't make the fact that you thought of them any less special!

Muriel 💚

A large cozy blanket, I'm talking 64×64 at the smallest to keep him all warm and safe. I know he has furs but I just think he'd be amazed at having something his size, especially from you.

A knit sweater to match his scarf maybe or one with chickens or bears in the pattern. It might be silly but I'm sure he'd love it. Or a subtle motif around the collar or sleeve situation.

Let's say Muriel teaches you how to carve and you spend weeks trying to replicate Inanna's essence.. no matter how great or bad you find it to be, he would be speechless in the best possible way.

Nadia 💙

Now here's the thing; Nadia LOVES sparing no expense on those she loves but in return she'd rather you not break the bank for her. Of course she'd love anything you get her, though.

A custom piece of jewelry with crystals that remind you of her or vice versa. Or your initials together in a creative way, or zodiacs, etc. Maybe to replace a certain gaudy ring or a lovely tennis bracelet she can wear all the time.

Depending on how good of a chef you are, cooking her favorite meal. Obviously Portia would help you if you need but I'm sure she'd just love the taste of home and the fact that her favorite person? Took the time and effort? To cook her, her favorite dish? The talent, the absolute thoughtfulness!

Honestly anything that might remind her of home. And if she gets wistful or a little homesick.. you let her know you cleared your schedule and are ready for an adventure whenever she can next!

Julian 🖤

My first thought was due to tiktok; a custom brewed mead. Strawberries, chocolate, roses, the works! You could also surprise him with it on a boat ride at dusk to star gaze together, hmm?

A sleep mask or a calming room spray (maybeee with a spell or special ingredients that just happen to make you very tired and make you get at least 8hrs of rest). This man needs to sleep but if you give him something to help, he'll have no choice but to use it. Neglect a gift from you? Never!

Poetry or any kind of love letter. Make it heart-felt, make it bold! Become Shakespeare! Even if you aren't comfortable expressing your feelings that way or find it silly, he will weep unironically and cherish it forever. If it's a bit cheesy then you'll both be sure to get a good laugh out of it too!

Portia 🧡

Something handmade like a pitcher or vase (in which case you give her full of her favorite flowers, aww!). For some reason I also thought a picnic basket, hand-woven by you or otherwise. Just something that she can use and think of you!

Your favorite book(s) and/or her favorite(s) from growing up or borrowed from the palace. Even if your favorite is a heavy, dense read on magic she'd love to get to know you in this new way. Also, please teach her some spells or charms! She'd love it so much.

A herb planter box. I'm sure she has plenty around but just a little one to keep in the windowsill with the ones she uses most frequently for cooking and baking. Maybe a few tea plants for good measure. You could also get her a mortar and pestle in the same vein but she might already have one.. oh, well! Who ever said you can't have two, especially if one is from a loved one!

Lucio ❤

A portrait of the two of you! You'd think that'd ruin the surprise but there are ways around that; Surprise him with it the day of (I'm honestly sure he wouldn't mind posing all day regardless but at the same time he'd get bored after a while haha) or get one done months ahead of time, insisting you want it for yourself.. just to have the artist make a copy for him. Either a small one to keep in a locket/pocket watch situation, or a grand one to hang in the palace halls, he'd love it!

A custom sword, perfectly balanced as all things should be. Either one made for the battle field or a gaudy, shiny masterpiece for show. You could have it engraved with your initials or full name too.

Something like gloves or a cloak that has something stitched on the inside, a hidden message just for him. He may be a larger than life count but he needs words of affirmation sometimes. No, he's not crying! His cloak just.. got fur in his eye is all!

Bonus:

(These could be extras and/or work for anybody!)

Enchant it to smell like you or spray it with your go to scent!

A massage from you or couples massage, face masks, a calm night at home together; these people need to r e l a x

Coupons! Kisses, hugs, date night, you name it. It might be basic or over done but they can still be cute.

Handmade card, handmade card, handmade card

Scavenger hunt for you or their gift!! Take them to all the places you've gone together or just across Vesuvia. (Muriel might have to just be in the forest but it'd still be nice!)

*cough* proposal *cough* (only if everyone is comfy with it!)