#ah yes angst my beloved
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I'm sure your friends will show up this time.
#fnaf#five nights at freddy's#fnaf ruin#fnaf security breach#cassie fnaf#fnaf cassie#ah yes. my brand of ANGST applied to EVERY fandom i like#angst my beloved#so who else teared up at that part#my art#zachiedoodles
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I’m the happiest I could ever be rn- MOST ATTRACTION I HAVE EVER GOTTEN ON A FANFIC IN MY YEARS OF FANFIC WRITING!!! Expect new chapters after exams are over! :D
#ao3 writer#fnaf security breach#fnaf au#fnaf sb#fanfic#fnaf fanfic#my writing#i am so happy#I can’t wait to write more!#just wait till you guys see who’s going to die..#I can’t write a plot line without angst and death#ah yes Daycare Attendant angst my beloved#poor Moon’s mental health 🫶🏾#expect more art for this series!
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🌀❄️🌤️🌧️🌈☔
🌀Post the fic summary for a fic you haven't written/published yet. It can be hypothetical or something you really plan on releasing...
Septimus Heap never existed, but his mother, Sarah Heap, has memories of him that she shouldn't have. With the help of Marcia Overstrand (who also has memories of him she shouldn't have), she tracks down her son and brings him home.
❄️Share a snippet from a WIP of your choosing.
"Madame Heap?"
Sarah hums, encouraging her to go on as she sets about making tea.
"I can send her away--"
She highly doubts that. The poor girl looks ready to keel over. Oh, but Marcia does delight in terrifying others. "That won't be necessary, dear. I'm making tea."
There's a long pause. "For--For the Extraordinary Wizard?"
Sarah hums again.
🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.
"Madame Marcia, those are my fucking eardrums."
🌧️Share something angsty from your WIP.
His hands are in her hair again, yanking her head up, and this time she cannot keep him out of her mind.
🌈 Share something soft/fluffy from your WIP.
"You have rice in your hair," she says, returning the embrace somewhat hesitantly.
Septimus laughs.
☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?
Probably my timeline hopping au only because it's the one I don't often think about. I'd like to write it but I think it would just get bigger and bigger. Basically the idea is that Septimus, Jenna, and Beetle accidentally end up traveling to alternative timelines and some are funny and some very much are not. It kind of has a plot but it's more exploratory which is why I don't ever work on it seriously.
#septimus-heap my beloved#the context for the snippet is that sarah is talking to idk a new member of the palace staff beccause they probably have staff right#and she refuses to call her sarah even though sarah tells her all the time that its okay and then one day the eow is just in the gardens#and she's terrified but sarah is like ah yes of course marcia wont come inside and tell me she's here herself#dont remember what the angst is from#and the rice in your hair line is the only dialogue i have written from the timeline hopping au because hes so happy to see her#when hes finally in his own timeline that he slams into her and she's literally in the middle of cooking#and it goes flying and gets all over them both and she's annoyed#i really dont have like anything fluffy or soft written so uh that was the best i could do
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call me when you get this
Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington
Summary: Eddie and Steve are best friends, but even the best of friends have secrets.
WC: 3K
Warnings: Story told through voicemails, mild angst, coming out to each other, secret feelings, friends to lovers, kissing, swearing, light angst very brief, references to Robin and Gareth, drunk shenangians, idiots in love, set in 1991 but it doesn't matter too much, no mention of the Upside Down stuff
A/N: I have like three other WIP's happening and zero time but this idea was given to me by the beloved @tinytalkingtina in the discord and then I couldn't get it out of my head. Ao3 link here for those interested!
Tuesday, September 24th, 1991, 12:52am
GARETH hi yes I know it’s late but HAVE YOU LISTENED TO THE ALBUM YET? I need all of your thoughts immediately. Like, all of them. Every thought. Dude, my head is spinning. Ohhh, man. Kurt is a fuckin’ legend. Woooow. Okay, I could talk about this shit for like three hours but I don’t want to run out your tape so just call me back when you get this and then talk to me about it for three hours. Can I come over a little early tomorrow? Yeah, I’m gonna come over a little early tomorrow. Maybe a lot early. Alright, catch ya then.
Tuesday, September 24th, 1991, 3:40pm
Uhh, ha. Hey Steve. Thiiiis is Eddie, obviously. I, uh, I just realized I called you in the middle of the night last night on accident, and - uhh, sorry about that. It was just - ah, screw it. You know what I am. Byeeeeee-
Tuesday, September 24th, 1991, 7:30pm
“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”
Eds, how many times do I have to tell you to change your answering machine message? What if, like, the president calls? Okay, maybe not the president. But an employer or something. Or, like, what if you give the girl of your dreams your number and she calls you and hears THAT? Food for thought. Uhh, anyway, it’s fine. I wasn’t even home when you called me. Robin was, though, and so you’ll probably hear her wrath next time you come over for movie night. Good luck with that. Oh, wait. You’re at a show tonight, right? Damn. I swear I’ll make the next one. Okay, bye, dickhead.
Wednesday, September 25th, 1991, 1:12pm
“You have reached Steve Harrington. Figured I should say that in case whoever is calling me thinks they’re calling someone else. Anyway, I’m busy right now so I’ll call you back. Bye!”
Ha, ha. You are so funny, Harrington. You ever think about being a stand-up comedian? Jesus, and you say I’M the dramatic one. Uhh, the show last night went well, by the way. Not that you were THERE. Seriously, what kind of friend even are you? I’m hurt, Steve. I’m hurt. Anyway, see you tomorrow for movie night. I get to pick. It’s only fair, right?
Thursday, September 27th, 1991, 4pm
“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”
You’re not picking the goddamn movie. No way. Last time you did that we got scarred for life. Also, um. I can’t tell if you’re joking or not about me and your shows. I didn’t realize you - uhh, you’re probably joking. Forget I said anything, and see you tonight. I’m at work right now, so I’m gonna rent some backup options just in case.
Sunday, September 30th, 1991, 2pm
“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”
Dustin says you were being a total dick last night. Good. That shrimp deserves to be humbled every once in a while. Your answering machine message still sucks, by the way, and yeah I’m gonna tell you every time.
Monday, October 1st, 1991, 3:21pm
“Hey, this is Steve.”
“And Robin!”
“And you’ve somehow managed to call us when neither of us are here.”
“We are probably together.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Or we just don’t want to talk to you.”
“Oh, that too.”
“Either way, leave a message and we’ll get back to you later!”
“Probably.”
“Probably!”
Steve. My guy. I can’t believe you make fun of me for my bullshit message all the time and now you’ve created and advertised THAT abomination?? I’m - wow. I forgot why I even called.
Monday, October 1st, 1991, 3:23pm
“Hey, this is Steve.”
“And Robin!”
“And you’ve somehow managed to call us when neither of us are here.”
“We are probably together.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Or we just don’t want to talk to you.”
“Oh, that too.”
“Either way, leave a message and we’ll get back to you later!”
“Probably.”
“Probably!”
Okay, I remember now. I know you said you have that date tomorrow with Heidi or Melissa or Samantha or whoever is currently obsessed with you, but I really do want you at the show if you can make it. You can bring her, if you want. Actually, it might be a good test. If she hates metal, she fails. I only want the best suitors for you, Steve Harrington. Be there or I’ll be REALLY annoying about it forever.
Tuesday, October 2nd, 1991, 11:45pm
“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”
Hey, it’s Steve. So, uh - I saw your show tonight. You’re probably not home yet, but I don’t know where you are. Cuz like, I tried to find you after your set but you disappeared. I hope everything’s okay. You sounded great, by the way. I mean, you all did. Remember me when you’re playing at the Garden? Oh also, I heard like three women talk about how badly they wanted you, so…I dunno, just figured you’d like to hear that. Hey, maybe you got with one of them and that’s why you’re not answering. In that case, hope you’re having fun? Okay, now it’s weird. Bye, Eds.
Wednesday, October 3rd, 12:54am
“Hey, this is Steve.”
“And Robin!”
“And you’ve somehow managed to call us when neither of us are here.”
“We are probably together.”
“Yeah, probably.”
“Or we just don’t want to talk to you.”
“Oh, that too.”
“Either way, leave a message and we’ll get back to you later!”
“Probably.”
“Probably!”
Steeeeeeeeeeeve. You absolute buffoon. You beautiful, oblivious man. Why’dya think I wanted you there’so badly t’night, Steve? T’wasn’t for the girls. Ha, girls. Yeah, okay. I may have had several alcoholic beverages, Steve-o, but you’re still the dumbass. Cuz you’d have to be an absolute idiot t’think I have any interest in those women. ‘Specially yours. Your women, I mean. Sandyyyyy. Ugh, she was perfect for you, Harrington. Juuuust perfect. So perfect I didn’t wanna stick around to see any more of it. I hope you two have beautiful children. Name one after me, will you? Uhhhh I think I might puke. So, I’m gonna go, but - but do you get what I’m saying? Do you - do you get it? Tell me you get it. Steve, I - Oh, hey Gareth. Do you wanna talk to Steve? Wait why are you - Dude, I’m FINE. I’m handling it! Stop! Gareth, don’t hang up the phone, I haven’t -!
Wednesday, October 3nd, 1991, 9:05am
“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”
Dude, did you fucking break into our apartment last night? Robin and I came home this morning and found a broken lock and some shitty note we could barely read next to the answering machine, and - what the fuck, man? You wiped the damn thing clean. Just - call me back, okay? Jesus.
Wednesday, October 3nd, 1991, 11:36am
“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”
Eddie, come on. We really need to talk. I’m not - I’m not mad, honest to God. Call me back, as soon as you get this. Got it?
Thursday, October 4th, 1991, 3:47pm
“Hey, it’s Eddie. I proooobably won’t listen to whatever you’re about to say, but shoot your shot anyway.”
It’s movie night, but I’m assuming you won’t be here considering you’ve pulled your magic disappearing act. Thanks for that, by the way. You know you really piss me off sometimes? All the time, actually. I’m getting real tired of you constantly poking fun at me, and then you pull this breaking and entering shit and just take off? Just like that? We’ve been friends for years, Eds. You and me. But you never want to just be serious, not once in your goddamn life, and I’m over it. So, uh, thanks for that, I guess. I dunno what I did.
Sunday, October 7th, 1991, 1:12pm
Hi! You have reached Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley’s home. Leave a message at the beep!
Huh. You know what? I kind of miss the old message you had. Yeah, yeah, I know, I’m impossible to please, yada yada yada, and now I’m doing the avoiding with humor thing again. Shit. Uhh, hi. Listen, I’m sorry I disappeared off the face of the earth for a while. Really, really fucking sorry, if you can believe it. I was just, like, mad embarrassed, and I didn’t wanna - uh, can we meet up soon? Alone? Like, without Robin even? I know that’s - like, unheard of these days, but I figure maybe you’d make an exception for me. Or maybe you won’t. Just let me know, yeah?
Sunday, October 7th, 1991, 1:30pm
Hi! You have reached Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley’s home. Leave a message at the beep!
See, I would just hop on over to your place to talk but the thing is, I’m a total chickenshit and it’s not like I did super well the last time I showed up to your place unannounced, so…Uhh, while we’re on the subject, I’m sorry about your lock. If you haven’t replaced it yet, I will. I’ll at least pay you back. In my defense, that thing was like two seconds from falling off anyway. But still. Anyway, I know you always spend Sundays at home, soooo…hellooooo? Come on. At least pick up the phone and tell me to fuck off. I know you’re listening. At least - I hope you are, anyway. Just pick up, man. I - I really gotta talk to you.
Sunday, October 7th, 1991, 1:37pm
Hi! You have reached Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley’s home. Leave a message at the beep!
So, quick update, I called Henderson. He confirmed you are at home, which means you are DEFINITELY listening, and either you’re trying to punish me or a part of you still finds my piece of shit ass charming somehow. Look, I know I fucked up, but - but I can explain. Shit. I mean, I’m not good with words or anything and I’m a total asshole but I - just, please. Pick up. Pick uuuuup. Come on. Now you’re just being a dick. Ha. Figures, I’m apologizing and calling you a dick in the same message. Dude. Seriously. Your tape is gonna run out of space and then what? You stop hearing from me? I’ll find other ways to annoy you, promise. This is a threat. Steve. Steeeeve. Pick up pick up pick up pick upppp -
“Will you just shut the hell up already?”
Eddie dropped the phone and heard it clack against the floor. He would have recognized that voice anywhere.
He turned around and there he was.
“Steve, what are you -?”
“You would just be yapping on that damn answering machine my whole drive here,” Steve said with his hands on his hips. “I don’t know why I expected any less. And, thanks to you, we had all the space in the world for you to take up, so -”
“H-how did you get in here?” Eddie stuttered.
Steve rolled his eyes. “What? You think you’re the only one who’s not afraid of breaking and entering?”
They hadn’t seen each other in five days. Hadn’t even talked, aside from a few voicemails. And those never told the whole story.
“I’m sorry,” Eddie began.
“Yeah, you should be,” Steve replied, taking a step closer to Eddie in the kitchen.
Eddie winced, his heart racing a million miles a minute. He just had to get all of the words out, while he still could. While Steve was listening.
“I left you this really stupid voicemail,” Eddie explained. “That night, after the show. I was drunk off my ass, and - and Gareth told me I’d said shit I shouldn’t have said, and then I panicked, and the two of us went to your apartment and I - well, you know the rest.” He slumped down into the chair at the dining room table, putting his head in his hands. “Which is all just so dumb. And I didn’t wanna deal with the aftermath, so…”
“So you stopped talking to me?” Steve said, taking another step closer. “Because you thought that would be the straw that broke the camel’s back in our friendship?”
Eddie shook his head. “I dunno, I -”
“You’ve done some real weird shit over the years, Munson,” Steve continued. “Sneaking into my apartment doesn’t even make the top three.”
Eddie buried his face in his hair. No amount of boyish charm would get him out of this one. Jesus H. Christ.
He sighed. “Okay, so I overreacted, what else is new?”
“I heard the voicemail, dickhead.”
Eddie’s heart went from breakneck speeds to stopping entirely.
“What?”
Steve sat down in the other seat at the table. “I heard the voicemail. It was 1am, again, so yeah I was at home.”
“I thought you would have been with Sandy,” Eddie muttered.
Steve shook his head. “Nah, Sandy was - she’s great and all, but she isn’t - she’s not -”
“So you heard the voicemail, but you weren’t home when I showed up,” Eddie noted.
“Right,” Steve said. “Because I was headed to your place.”
“What?”
Steve rolled his eyes. “I just - I didn’t understand why you never told me you were queer. Like, you know I don’t care about that. You know about Robin…”
As Steve talked, Eddie realized that Steve only heard half of what that voicemail was trying to express. So, it was time for Eddie Munson to face the music.
“I didn’t tell you I’m gay because I knew that once I did, you’d figure out the rest of it,” Eddie blurted out.
Steve furrowed his eyebrows. “The rest of it?”
Eddie groaned. “Oh, God. See, drunk me had the right idea saying this kind of shit over an answering machine. Christ, I’m so bad at this, but I’m just gonna say it, because if I don’t I think I’ll lose my shot with you and I - I can’t deal with that. So, here we go.” He squeezed his eyes shut and powered through. “Steve, I - ha, shit. I love you, dude. I’m - I’m IN love with you. I have been since, like, forever.” He opened his eyes, but kept them fixed on their feet against the linoleum kitchen floor. “Which is, uhh, a lot, I know. But it’s the truth. So if there’s any chance -”
“Oh, my God,” Steve interrupted. His voice wasn’t angry, or scared, or anything like that. It was soft and understanding.
“Yeah,” Eddie agreed. “Wait, what are you thinking?” He looked up to see Steve staring off into the distance before meeting his gaze.
“I’m thinking,” Steve replied. “That I owe Robin twenty bucks.”
Eddie cocked his head to the side and felt his heart skip back into rhythm. “You do?”
Steve nodded with a slight smile. At some point, his hand had ended up on Eddie’s knee. “Yeah, I didn’t believe her. Told her no way, not possible.”
Eddie didn’t know how to feel about this reaction. It wasn’t the worst possible response, but it certainly wasn’t Oh, Eddie! How I’ve longed for you all this time! Take me now!
A middleground, if you will.
“Oookay,” Eddie said. “Well, I don’t really know what to say now.”
“I’m queer too, ya know,” Steve continued.
"Wait, really?" Eddie balked. "Steve Harrington, ladies man?"
Steve chuckled. "Uh, yeah. Turns out, not so much," he said. "I feel like I’m pretty open about it. Guys, girls, whatever -”
“Yeah, but we all do that,” Eddie reasoned. “Me, you, and Robin all talking about how hot everyone is on our movie nights. It doesn’t prove anything.”
“Except that it totally does,” Steve countered. “Because, like, what do we all have in common?"
Eddie thought about it, and he didn’t have any other defenses.
“O-okay, so you’re queer too,” Eddie said. “And the other thing I said?”
Steve took a deep breath and looked Eddie directly in his frightened eyes.
“Eds, obviously I love you too,” Steve admitted at last. “Come on, seriously? After all I’ve put up with? I’ve been waiting around for like five days for you to call, like some lovesick puppy, and the moment I heard your voice I drove here instead of picking up the phone like a normal person. I’ve got it so bad for you that Robin is sick of it, and honestly, I’m sick of it too, because I hate having feelings. It blows, dude. I swear to God, if you try to bolt again when things get tough -”
Eddie lunged forward and cut Steve’s words off with a kiss. Their first kiss, even if it didn’t feel that way. Eddie had cupped Steve’s cheek in the past while he teased him. Steve had curled his fingers in Eddie’s hair in the past the night Robin taught him how to braid. Eddie and Steve had all kinds of physical contact in various ways over the years, and it was as if all of that was just practice for this.
Eddie broke away from Steve’s lips purely out of necessity, because he needed to catch his breath. “Okay, woah,” he said.
“Yeah,” Steve agreed. “Woah.”
Everything changed after that. But also, nothing changed at all.
-
Tuesday, October 16th, 1991, 4:12pm
“Hey, this is Eddie Munson’s phone. Leave a message and I’ll call ya back.”
Hi, Eds. Okay, I was wrong. This new message you have is, like, super boring. Anyway, I’ll see you at the show tonight, Rockstar. Love you.
xx
I did have a taglist way back when but the tagging system is super annoying on tumblr, so please reblog this if you liked it and follow me or my Ao3 for other works! Masterlist is the pinned post on my page for those interested. Thanks for reading!
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— of lattes and dozing generals
in which you're just a cafe employee, and he is the luofu's revered general — the one who can never seem to stray too far from you, no matter how much time passes.
CONTAINS : gn!reader, 10.4k wc, fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, coffee shop!au(-but-not-really-but-yeah-but-also-not), set slightly before current timeline, (old) friends to lovers, (attempts at) humour, pining pining bc they are old..., mentions of death (reader killed a mara-struck for the first time), hints of blade x reader if you squint
A/N : after a month the fic is done... i am so unwell for this man good lord ಥ_ಥ
General Jing Yuan is a cafe addict. That much is common knowledge among the citizens of the Luofu. Spanning from those who have been around for as long as he — and even older — to children and visitors alike, there’s not one person who hasn’t heard of this rumour.
When asked by a few brave (or nosy, depending on how you look at it) souls, the corners of his lips merely quirk up in a display of fond affection as he vocalises with equal sentiment, “They have my favourite there. How can I possibly resist the temptation?”
…Yeah. Whatever that meant.
Unsurprisingly, word spreads fast. News of the Cloud Knight’s general making regular trips to a meagre cafe? Just what in the world did they have to cause the great, beloved General Jing Yuan to return time and time again?
In the end, no one could actually figure out what his favourite item on the menu was. Every time he went in, it would always result in him leaving with something new! The only consistent occurrence, however, was the same employee taking his order with an expression akin to that of exasperation.
Meanwhile, to the regulars who have grown used to his profound presence within the humble cafe, they know better. This so-called ‘favourite menu item’ rumour that’s been going around? Preposterous! Having bore witness to the general breeze through the entrance in a bee-line to wherever it is you may be currently stationed (typically behind the counter) on many occasions, they’re confident the last thing in Jing Yuan’s mind when visiting is the menu.
After all, for what reason would he have to visit other than to converse with and see his favourite employee?
As a Xianzhou Native, you’ve experienced many oddities and menial routines throughout your extensive life. From being a medic-slash-supporter during countless wars and purges to your current job in a humble cafe, your options are beginning to run thin. After all, life is about exploring the new and revisiting the old (in your philosophy, at least), and there’s plenty of time to do so after having lived as long as you have.
Granted, outside of your role in purging the Denizens of Abundance, it’s safe to say your current occupation in the cafe has been your longest one yet! Well, you suppose the citizens of the Luofu — and, by extension, the Xianzhou Alliance — were never really ones for drastic change. At least the outworlders who come to visit bring some semblance of entertainment in your mundane life.
Yes. Your simple, mundane life you have come to appreciate.
“I see you’re busy as ever,” comments a baritone voice — languid in intonation yet you’re no stranger to the power which belies it. Against your better judgement, your eyes lift from the marbled counter to meet the smiling face of the bane of your existence, and the general whom the masses respect and fawn over. “Mind taking another customer?”
Ah. Right. This guy.
Out of everything that has been thrown at you, you’re almost certain this man takes the cake for the strangest experience in your life. And the longest, you suppose.
Although, it seems the same can’t be said for your coworkers, as you practically hear their beams of excitement before they can vocalise it.
“Welcome back, General Jing Yuan!”
You sigh at the enthused greeting from one of your coworkers, the beginnings of a headache teetering along the edges of your conscience.
Ignoring the commotion, you resume your work. What was it you were making again…? Oh, right. One milk tea and a—
“If you keep frowning like that, you’ll drive away customers.”
“Will it drive you away?” you retort, focusing on the last part of the order. After securing the small fruit tart from behind the display case, you pass the milk tea and pastry to a coworker so they can take it to the customer.
“Sorry to disappoint,” he drawls, impish smile magnified by the glimmer in his eyes when you turn to make contact, “but it’ll take much more than that to drive me away.”
You stare at him for a few seconds, unsure of what it is exactly he wants from you this time. Your eyes begin to narrow. “Are you saying a smile will drive you away?”
He feigns an exaggerated expression of hurt. “Drive me away? Oh, how your accusations wound me!” A chuckle bubbles from his throat when you glare at him for his theatrics, lifting his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I concede. Would you believe me if I said I’m worried your attention will be stolen away from me if you smile?”
“Not at all.”
“I’m merely looking out for you, [Name],” he says with a sigh, a shake of his head and a light tutting sound. “While I am immune to your smile, the customers are not. I don’t wish for you to be bored due to the lack of customers.”
Seriously, you can’t believe this guy sometimes. If he wants a challenge, then you accept.
And so you close your eyes and present your best century-perfected customer smile (which, to your credit, has been the number one selling point for many of the regulars and returning customers), deciding to play along with his whims. “Welcome back, General Jing Yuan. Would you like your usual today?”
(Granted, he likes to vary his order every now and then but the caramel latte seems to be his most consistent choice as of late. Pretty good taste, if you do say so yourself.)
“…”
…Why is it so quiet all of a sudden? Did everyone just unanimously decide to up and leave?? Is there a minute of silence you’re unaware of???
A meek cough disrupts your thoughts. Relieved at the new sound, you open your eyes only to be stumped by the general in front of you. His prior relaxed posture is now rigid, eyes focusing everywhere but on you. Wait, upon closer inspection, is he… shaking?
“...Please excuse me.”
Huh?
You’re not given much time to process his words. With one swift turn he’s already stalking towards the door.
“Hey! What happened to not being driven away?!” He doesn’t turn back at your shout. No, it seems to only make him speed-walk faster. Barely a blink and he’s gone, the only indication of his presence being the echoing chimes of the bell.
He bigged himself up saying he wouldn’t be driven away but then he goes and leaves you in the dust the moment you smile.
What a hypocrite.
(Unbeknown to you, the regulars who happened to witness the spectacle could only chuckle in fond exasperation at their general’s splutter and flushed skin, the only time they can truly get a read on his thoughts, and your dumbfounded expression.)
“One milk tea, as always.”
“No need to sound so enthusiastic,” Tingyun laughs before thanking you. A satisfied hum leaves her lips when drinking the beverage, and that’s all the indication you need to know you have, once again, aced the recipe.
Well done, me! You deserve a pat on the back and a century-long holiday away from as many people as possible!
Graceful movements snap you out of your fantasies. You blink rapidly to process the flutter of a fan, a disarmingly sweet giggle and a cold, paper-like material pressed into your palm.
“Have fun with your dream man~”
“Wait what—”
And then she’s gone, leaving you to stare blankly at the place she was standing mere moments prior. You’re starting to see a pattern here with people abruptly leaving you in a fit of confusion.
Well, nothing you can do about it now, you suppose. So instead you move your focus to the small, thin object enclosed in your hand. Its now-exposed surface gleams under the cafe lights, the reflection obscuring the details. A picture? But what can you do with a—
Wait. Is that… Jing Yuan… winking at the camera…?
Sure enough, under the pressure of your scrutiny as you hold the picture in various angles and heights, the winking face of Jing Yuan stares back at you in mockery. Somehow, this photo feels slightly more personal than the usual ones Tingyun distributes to the masses. Actually, you’re not sure how she even manages to obtain these photos in the first place and, quite frankly, you think it's best you don’t know.
…The hell am I supposed to do with this?
Just as you were wondering what to do with the polaroid, a familiar voice comes from behind — almost as if the small, glossy image clutched between your fingers had the ability to summon him. “If you wanted my photo, all you had to do was ask.”
“Please don’t misunderstand, general,” you deadpan in response, your head swerving to meet his amused gaze before placing the photocard on the counter. “I was given this against my own will.”
“Is that so?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm,” he hums, a melodic sound which serves to speed up the palpitations of your heart. It comes to an abrupt slow, however, when you spot the corners of his lips lift into a smug curve, already dreading whatever it is that may leave his lips. “I wonder why I find that hard to believe.”
“That's not my problem.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
…
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“Like what?” He laughs at your groan, eyes crinkling with joy at the dispense of your suffering. Yeah, why suffer when you can make drinks? Besides, you already know he’ll accept whatever it is you make, so there’s no reason to ask for his opinion!
He follows close behind when you venture behind the counter in search of some ingredients, uncaring for the stares he receives from the customers who aren’t regulars.
When you crouch, you shoot one last accusatory glare at the still-smiling general before disappearing to rifle through cabinets underneath. “For someone in a position such as yours, you sure do have a lot of spare time to be spending it on a humble cafe worker such as myself.”
You’re not sure if he responds, too focused on searching for what you need. After finding the ingredients, you rock back on your heels and stand, the top of your head brushing against something smooth. When you rise, you realise it was the back of Jing Yuan’s hand which you made contact with, as he grips the edge of the counter where your head most definitely would have hit if he hadn’t cushioned the impact.
He merely grins when your eyes travel up the length of his arm to meet his gaze. “Well, what can I say other than you are worth every second of my time.”
…
“Don’t look at me like that, [Name].”
“Like what?” You watch as his smile strains when you repeat his words from earlier, a victorious grin creeping its way onto your lips. “Alright, alright. I’ll make your drink now. It won’t take long.”
True to your words, it doesn’t take long. Within a matter of minutes you’ve prepared a caramel latte. (It was the only thing you could find ingredients for. Perhaps it’s time to go shopping again…)
After securing the lid on the takeaway cup, you hand it over to him. He reaches out, your fingers brushing slightly and—
The silence is unnervingly loud as you both stare blankly at the spilled drink rolling across the counter.
“...I’ll be charging extra for that latte today.”
“Aha…”
You’re no stranger to quiet days in the cafe, and neither are the staff and regulars. After a particular incident way back when, it’s safe to say the establishment has faced many peaceful shifts. Though that’s not to say there hasn’t been any disputes from customers, but they’re usually small, easy to resolve issues that only require a practised smile and a (sometimes threatening) deal before sending them on their merry way.
Today, however, doesn’t seem to be one of those easy days.
“Sir, I’ll have to ask you to leave,” your voice resounds in the quiet cafe, stern and unwavering. The man in question tears his attention away from his phone to glance over his shoulder, his once haughty expression now fallen into a scowl.
“And why’s that?” he asks after telling the other person on the line to wait for a moment. “I’m not being disruptive to anyone.” With the progressively hostile looks he’s been getting since earlier, you beg to differ. Well, even if he clearly is an outworlder unaware of the Xianzhou customs, that doesn’t justify his ignorance.
And you decide to tell him just that.
“Since you seem to be a visitor, let me give you a piece of advice: it would do you well to cease all mentions of seeking immortality when aboard any of the Xianzhou ships, lest you want to make an enemy of yourself to the locals.”
“Oh? And who are you to tell me that?”
Your eye twitches at his haughty tone. Within a second your signature customer smile is plastered onto your expression, an even tone conveying your next words, “A Xianzhou Native, of course.”
And the next thing you know there’s a seething customer causing a disruption in the middle of the cafe. Though not unexpected, you still held onto a fraying hope that the issue could be resolved somewhat peacefully.
How bothersome.
A light weight plops itself atop the line of your shoulder, shifting slightly with a soft brush against your jaw before coming to a still. With a blink, you and the man share a brief moment of confusion, and you find yourself more stupefied at the finch gazing up at you with a slight tilt of its head.
It looks familiar, but that isn’t much to go off of. Besides, the first person to come to mind already said he would be busy this week, so you highly doubt he’s managed to appear at just the right time like always… right? Right—
“What seems to be the issue here?”
Your answer comes in the form of a tender warmth encasing your back, a beguiling voice resounding from behind, and a familiar scent relaxing your tensed muscles. It doesn’t take a genius to recognise who’s standing behind you, but perhaps it’s because you’re so used to his presence that you can identify him the moment he steps into a room.
“General…” you trail off at his unexpected appearance. Jing Yuan does not meet your gaze, however, instead choosing to remain upright behind you and fixate his focus onto the man who kicked up a fuss, expression hardened into that akin of a general.
The little finch is not deterred by the overwhelming presence Jing Yuan now exudes. Rather, it chirps happily and nudges its head against your jaw once more before making itself comfortable along the slope of your neck. Looking at it a little closer you realise it's the one who sometimes greets you when you and Jing Yuan meet up, finding purchase on your shoulder during a round or two of starchess. A smile makes its way onto your lips when it leans into the touch of your finger.
It would seem the small bird did a great job in distracting you, however, for the next thing you know wind sweeps past you, exclamatory apologies spewed out in haste follow and gradually fade in its wake. There’s a faint chime of the bell and a missing presence in front of you.
Oh, you blink, he ran away.
Jing Yuan turns to you then, expression much softer than it was a few moments prior. “Are you alright?” he asks, his hand gently squeezing your free shoulder.
“Yeah, thank you,” you sigh. Your fingers lift to massage away the built up tension in your temples. “I’m sorry you had to see that on your break.”
There’s a small pause. “You shouldn’t apologise for something like that.”
“Huh…?” It was a mistake to meet his gaze, you belatedly realise, for your breath is ceased by the flame which burns molten gold, your heart caught in your throat amidst a gravitas you haven’t seen for a while.
His lips part, tone gradually changing to something more light-hearted; a stark contrast to his current expression. “You were just doing your job. It was that customer who was in the wrong. Honestly, he should have known better than to talk so flippantly about that topic.”
Well, you can’t refute his words.
“What are you doing here anyway?” You cough in an attempt to divert the topic, only to raise a brow at his unreadable countenance. “I thought you said you would be busy.”
Jing Yuan pauses, as though hesitant, before responding, “I sent you a message to send notice of my visit but you didn’t even leave me on read, so I knew there was something wrong.”
“I didn’t even notice…” Without a moment’s haste, you pull out your phone. There on your home screen displays notification banners: 6 unread messages from my headache <3.
my headache <3: I have some free time, so I will be paying you a visit. Don’t mention this to Qingzu though, she doesn’t know I am taking a break. =w=
my headache <3: Are you busy? You don’t usually leave me on delivered for longer than five minutes.
my headache <3: Did I do something to make you mad?
my headache <3: [Name]?
my headache <3: …
my headache <3: I will be at the cafe soon. Wait for me.
A pang of guilt seeps into your conscience. You hadn’t realised he sent so many messages. Did that customer take up that much of your attention? Also, do you really not leave him on delivered for more than five minutes??
“Oh! You kept the heart I put there?” Your thoughts are promptly cut off by the baritone voice resounding beside your ear. His light breaths puff against your skin as he leans against you, peeking over your shoulder to read the messages he sent.
“Why wouldn’t I?” you huff, eyes trained onto the device to avoid meeting his gaze. “I said you could make any changes you wanted to your contact name and this was what you wanted.”
He stiffens at your words, breath stuttering ever so slightly against your skin but quickly catches himself. There’s no response for a while, instead a wave of calm washes over you as you scroll through your phone with Jing Yuan watching from his place over your shoulder, sometimes recalling a particular memory which comes to mind at certain photos in your camera roll.
It goes on like this for a little while until he shifts, strands of silver brushing against the shell of your ear when he releases a light sigh. You glance over your shoulder only to see him already looking at you, the lines of his features soft and gentle.
“You know,” he starts, voice soft with a twinge of nostalgia seeping through, “I’m your first and longest supporter.”
Well, that certainly came out of the blue.
But he’s not wrong, and perhaps that is why you find yourself huffing out a breathy laugh in response. “What? You want me to praise you?”
“Would you?” he asks, an instantaneous response to your lighthearted jest.
You stare at him, incredulous, but he doesn’t falter. His gaze holds weight, seizing your breath and rendering you speechless. Ah, he really isn’t good for your heart.
“Keep dreaming, general.”
Despite the scoff backing those words, you make no effort to hide your smile. And though you don’t catch it, Jing Yuan makes no effort to hide the adoration glistening in his gaze.
Sidestep to the left. Duck. Step back. Parry. Clang! Step to the right. Pivot. Clack! Raise your arm—!
A sword flies up, twirling mid-air as it plummets back down and digs cleanly into the grass. It gleams under the artificial sun, becoming a focal point in the otherwise barren grounds. You straighten your posture, spear at your side and a bottle of water in hand as you approach the worn-out aspiring Sword Champion.
“You’ve improved, Yanqing.” You smile when he looks up, breathing ragged as he mumbles his thanks before guzzling down the fluids of the water bottle now in his hands. You sit beside him, and it’s not long before a refreshed sigh escapes him, setting the near-empty bottle in his lap.
A lapse of silence. A faint breeze. A wave of heat. A shift of gold.
You sigh upon noticing the boy’s gaze switching between you and your weapon. “What is it?”
“That spear,” he starts, “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”
“How so?”
“It’s different from the spears the rest of the Cloud Knight’s use and, even though it has a similar aura to the general’s Devastator Glaive, it feels like… it was almost made for you. A weapon that only you can wield.”
For a teen yet to explore the larger part of life, he is frighteningly perceptive. He’s quick to pick up subtle nuances and yet retains that innocent curiosity which enables him to ask questions most adults would not. It’s part of a child’s charm, and you can only hope he will never be robbed of that part of him.
“Made for me, you say?” You cast a glance to your side, vision tunnelling into the fine details which adorns the crafted spear. Despite the many centuries the weapon has braved through, it still appears as though it were only crafted yesterday. Its colours are still vibrant and its exterior holds minimal wear. Your breath hitches when your gaze trails down towards the hilt and hones in on the faintly carved names: yours and the one who gifted this to you.
Your mind numbs. There’s a matching bow which sits in your home, you recall, locked away in a spare room deep within the confinement of your walls. There are other accompaniments, too, surrounding it in decorated, bejewelled boxes filled with handicrafts ranging from everyday trinkets to carefully crafted ornaments carved from the purest of jades.
It sits there, collecting dust all year round. All year round except for one single day — a day when your thoughts surge to new heights and can only be tamed when in that room, cleaning off layers of dust and spiralling into seemingly endless nostalgia. It serves as both a commemoration of the past as well as a reminder for what will never again be.
Immortality truly is a wretched thing.
“[Name]?”
You blink, snapping out of your thoughts. Yanqing, who was sitting beside you mere moments prior, is in front of you with a hand on your shoulder. He probably shook you while you were lost in thought, you surmise. How mortifying…
“Your teacher seems to be slacking off,” you cough, swiftly changing the topic. He doesn’t take note of your awkward transition, but, if he did, he’s done a good job hiding it. “Is he busy?”
“The general?” he repeats in a murmur, chin held between his thumb and forefinger with a contemplative expression. He blinks. “Nope! No clue.”
“I see,” you sweatdrop. Worry begins to pool in the back of your mind, but it is quickly smothered when Yanqing jumps up, bouncing on his heels as he shows off his recovered energy and readiness to spar with you for another round.
You cast one last glance at your spear before standing, following close behind an eager Yanqing as he bounds to the middle of the field with his sword in hand.
(You can still recall him; the young man who gave you these gifts way back when, putting on airs of nonchalance in a poor attempt at masking his bashfulness, the furtive glances, the hand raised to rub the back of his neck, the awkward cough he always did before excusing himself after gifting whatever it was he made that time — all of it is practically ingrained into your mind.
You can still recall him; how could you not when he is the same man who haunts you when in your lonesome.)
--
He’s not here. Again.
You’ve lost count of the number of times your focus darts to the door when a resounding chime of the bell is heard, only to be left with aching disappointment when it turns out to be anyone other than Jing Yuan. His radio silence is concerning, though you suppose any kind of silence from him has that effect considering he always made sure to notify you when he would be busy, therefore unable to visit you due to urgent matters.
Has he been well? Has he been eating regularly? What of his sleeping habits? He’s not overworking himself again, is he? What if he left on an expedition without saying anything?
Your answer appears in the form of Yukong.
“The general?” she repeats, blowing lightly on the freshly brewed coffee before answering you. “While I am not completely in the know, I’ve heard in passing that he has been cooped up in his office. For once.”
It’s practically common knowledge to the Luofu citizens how Jing Yuan tends to be absent from the Seat of Divine Foresight. More often than not, he will appear as a hologram, sometimes choosing to instead give advance notice of his lack of presence. Well, you suppose most have grown accustomed to finding him at the cafe. So for him to now hide away in his office without a word is of course a matter of concern. After all, the last time he did this was years ago, and that was because he didn’t want you to worry about… him.
You pause, fists clenching at your belated realisation. A tinge of frustration begins to creep up, but the concern over his condition is far more prevalent, curling around and constricting your heart as worry clouds your senses. “That guy…”
--
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he comments, voice languid in a valiant attempt to hide the undertone of surprise at your arrival. He quickly recovers with a genial smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your arrival?”
Admittedly, it would have fooled many others. Unfortunately, you have known him too long to be fooled by such tactics. You’re sure he knows, if the slight waver in his gaze has anything to say about it.
Instead of answering, you choose to remain still in front of the now-shut doors. He doesn’t seem to notice though, as he merely resumes his task in a robotic manner. Except for the two of you, the office is void of the usual stationed knights and his few assistants, making the room feel much larger. It’s daunting.
Your unease does not fade after hearing his voice. No, it only heightens, his sluggish movements and voice laden with exhaustion further spiralling you into a state of distress over his well-being. You watch his slow blinks, head dipping slightly only to snap up to prevent himself from falling into slumber before continuing to sign document after document, replacing each signed sheet with a new one in a never-ending cycle.
It would have been comical if you weren’t aware of the fact he’s been neglecting his health to finish these papers.
Typically, he wouldn’t be having this issue, always having been the type to get his work done ahead of time despite his… less than professional demeanour at times, though it seems the papers have been brought in heavy bulk this time around; that, or they contained pressing matters which couldn’t be put off.
“Take a break,” you finally say, unable to stand the sight of him pushing himself any longer. He doesn’t spare you a glance. If it weren’t for the brief pause in his writing before continuing, you would have thought he didn’t hear you. Teeth digging into your lower lip and eyes narrowing into a glare, you try once more. “I’m serious. Take a break.”
Palpable silence douses the room.
And then he lifts his head, meeting your furrowed gaze. His eyes are anything but bright, a dull glaze coupled with dark eyebags signifying his lack of sleep.
“I have to finish signing these papers,” Jing Yuan sighs out, giving what you assume to be an apologetic glance before lowering his head back down to resume the paperwork.
Unfortunately for him, you won’t allow him to succeed in his attempts.
“And I don’t want you to collapse from overwork again!” He flinches at that, and you know you have managed to convince him when he places his pen down on the table’s surface and relents with a deep sigh. When he finally nods, defeated, the building tension dissipates and you’re able to breathe without worry again.
With cautious steps, you make your way over to the large chair. Having been in this room countless times, it’s easy for you to glide to where Jing Yuan sits despite the darkness which now drapes like a veil over the interior.
When you reach his seat, your eyes harden at the scattered documents, staring at them for a few seconds in hopes it will miraculously burn them, before tearing your gaze away and focusing on your weary friend.
“Let’s get you home,” you mutter. You lean down and prepare to help him stand in case he needs the extra support after having sat for too long. It doesn’t go as planned, however, when he tugs you down beside him and plops his head onto your lap. “Hey—!”
“Just for a moment…” he intercepts, voice heavily laced with sleep. The second you lock eyes, you know it’s all over for you. “Just for a moment, stay here with me.”
And you sigh knowing ‘a moment’ will turn into hours. But you’re fine with that. As long as he gets his rest and can finally let his guard down, you would gladly lend him your lap for days on end.
“Fine.” You shift slightly to provide him more comfort. “Take as long as you need. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
He responds in the form of a grateful smile and soft squeeze to your hand. Within a matter of seconds he’s sound asleep, the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing the dull ache in your heart.
Cautiously, you raise your free hand and reach out to his peaceful expression. His hair is silkier than you last remember, easily threading your fingers through the soft strands to brush them away from obscuring his features.
‘Than I last remember’, huh…
Your eyes trail to the hand clutched in his.
Thinking back on it, it has been a while since you last relaxed like this with him. Life tends to be busy, the cafe takes up most of your time, and Jing Yuan has his official duties to take care of. No matter how lax he tries to play it off, you’re aware he has his hands full with governmental affairs and conjuring a multitude of tactics to minimise losses. That’s the kind of person he is — to badger you about the happenings in your life, yet hide away and gloss over his with a genial mask so as to not worry you.
You’ve always hated that part of him. Why can’t you worry for him? Why must it always be he who consoles you but not the other way around? Does he truly not know how his evasive tendencies pain you, intentional or not?
Questions, questions, questions; all these questions and yet there’s never a concrete answer.
Is he… really so oblivious to the way his secrecy is what spurs your distance with him?
Your hand pauses.
Perhaps steadily drawing a line between you is a pointless pursuit in clinging onto the past, a fleeting hope for everything to revert back to the way it was before; to deny the happenings of bygones which paved the way for the present.
Things will never be what they once were. You understand that. You accept that. And, perhaps, that is what makes it hurt all the more.
Four familiar faces emerge from deep within the hidden crevices of your conscience, ones you have not physically seen for a long time — too long, perhaps. And yet they appear just as vivid as before everything went up in flames, endlessly haunting you when you’re left alone with the silence of your own mind. No matter how tightly you shut your eyes in blatant refusal of their presence, nor the strength in which you cover your ears to drown out the remnants of their voices, they never leave you alone. They cling to you, desperate; the same way in which you are to be free of them.
But even so, in spite of the hostility and bitterness and hurt which remains in their wake and binds itself to their legacies, you cannot help but to wish they are doing well, wherever it is they may now be.
And maybe it’s the full moon glaring down at you which spurs this wishful thinking but, on the off-chance they return, perhaps those of you that are left can gather at the cafe after closing hours and chat about anything and everything, exciting and menial, you have come to experience in the time spent apart.
(Just like old times.)
But, of them, only Jing Yuan remains, and maybe that is why he doesn’t manifest alongside them as a result of this aching nostalgia, instead resting peacefully on your thighs with steady, even breaths; the only indication that he truly is here with you.
“We will be okay, Jing Yuan,” you find yourself whispering as you gaze down at him. “We’ve made it this far, and we’ll continue on, braving through our fate.”
The image of him blurs, his colours further contorting the more you try to blink it away. It is then you force your eyes shut, lean down towards him, lightly brush away his fringe and press two fleeting, chaste kisses: one against the skin of his forehead and the other atop the mole under his left eye. “If not for myself, then, for you, I’ll be okay.”
Whether that’s to reassure you or him… you’re not sure.
For as long as you can remember, Jing Yuan has always been with you.
It wasn’t merely a matter of staying by each other’s side during the day; no, it’s more than that. Your relationship runs deep — centuries bordering a millennia worth of memories tucked away in the crevices of your mind — and it would be an understatement to say you know each other like the back of your hand.
Together, the two of you have been through it all, in practically every sense of the word.
--
Despite enlisting into the Cloud Knights, it was far from what you wanted, instead aligning with the demands of your parents. To have that expectation of continuing your family’s tradition, to have that burden of battling for the Xianzhou Luofu’s legacy, to have that constant worry of one day being mara-struck due to your race, to perhaps never be able to do what you want for yourself, shackled to generations of family service… that was the meaning of your existence. Whether you liked it or not.
You eventually gave up, simply accepting your unwanted fate and following the hollowed footsteps carved by your ancestors. That was how you ended up amongst the new recruits for the Cloud Knights and listening to the current general’s speech about glory and honour and pride — all for the Xianzhou Alliance; all for the Xianzhou Luofu; all for the Cloud Knights.
Fate is such a weird thing, you remember thinking to yourself as your gaze swept across many others in the same uniform as you. Because despite you all looking the same, despite you all holding the same make of spear, you knew their passion and dedication to serve the alliance would far outweigh your own.
He was no exception.
Contrary to you, the boy who stood a couple rows in front wanted to be there. It was obvious in the way his eyes glimmered, the way he held himself in an upright posture and focused with rapt attention on the general at the front. Perhaps that was what caught your eye back then — the pure, unadulterated desire rolling off him had rooted you in place and forced your attention to be on him.
With a sigh you averted your gaze. There was only one thought which resonated within you in that brief moment: you would never grow close to that boy.
For, unlike you, he was made to shine under the glow of the artificial sun, while you were a passionless bystander relinquished of your fate.
--
It wasn’t long before you made a name for yourself amongst the new recruits of the Cloud Knights. It stemmed from a training session-turned-competition. One which you came out on top.
A natural prodigy is what they called you.
A lucky fluke is what they whispered behind your back.
Looking back, you’re not sure why you tried so hard. Did you think you would have it easy if you won? If anything, it probably made your future that much more troublesome with weighty expectations and watchful eyes from those around you.
Well, there went your quiet life.
At least it couldn’t be as suffocating as it would be back at home. The most you would receive are jealous glances from your weaker peers, or urges from your trainers to try a bit harder. But what reason was there to try when the outcome never changed?
“Why are you here?”
“Huh?” When you looked up, hands still gripped tight around the length of your training spear, your unimpressed eyes met pools of gold. They widened upon contact.
“Wait— that’s not what I—!” he had cut himself off with a sigh, pink dusting his cheeks. He quickly regathered himself and faced you once more. “I mean, why are you here when you clearly don’t want to be? I watched your matches earlier, but there was no light in your eyes… Kind of like now.”
Was that the expression you had? You would never know. What you did know was that the boy was persistent. Evading the topic would not work on him and, quite frankly, you were tired.
“I’m only here because of my parents,” you began. Your fists clenched and your eyes hardened as you lowered your gaze to the grass. “I hate my fate. I have no say in what I can or can’t do in my own life. That’s all there is to it.”
There was a moment of silence after your sombre words. Maybe now he would leave you alone and be on his way. Just like it should be. Someone like him who shines above the rest has no business with you, whose passion was extinguished before it could manifest.
“That’s not true.” Your gaze snapped up, words of protest ready to be let loose only for that burst of anger to dissipate the second you locked eyes. “You can escape your fate.”
“Hah! What nonsense are you—”
“Because that’s what I did.” You blinked once, twice. Your disbelief must have been obvious by the way he flushed slightly, the crimson tinge spanned from the tips of his ears to the apples of his cheeks. “I mean, my ‘fate’ was originally supposed to be a scholar or some kind of official in the Realm-Keeping Commission and follow my family’s footsteps, but look where I am now. I’m nowhere near that.”
It was strange. He was not supposed to be someone similar to you. He was supposed to be someone you could only gaze at from afar. He burned brightly; you did not.
And yet, through his next words, you discovered that you, too, were capable of dreaming and hoping, the light suddenly appearing in what you deemed to be an abyssal darkness.
“I’m now a Cloud Knight, and I believe that you can also change your fate!”
A sense of camaraderie formed between you and the golden boy that day, an odd, tingling warmth coiled around your heart. Though an unfamiliar feeling, you found you didn’t hate it.
--
“Master asked about you today.”
“Tell her my answer is still no.”
“You don’t even know what she asked about!”
“Don’t need to.”
A sigh came from your left at your instant retorts, but that didn’t bother you. The sun was still up and you were set on soaking up as much of it as you could before Jing Yuan had to leave for his training.
It had been a couple years since you first met now, and you somehow became an inseparable pair; where one of you would be spotted, the other wouldn’t be far behind if not already there.
Well, most of the time, at least.
When Jing Yuan had caught the attention of the Sword Champion, Jingliu, he was offered a place in her team. He accepted, of course, and ever since then he began training under her guidance. As a result, those were the only times you were actively separated.
But by extension, you were somehow roped into her interest.
“So this is where you were.” You grimaced at the familiar tone, turning away as Jing Yuan scrambled beside you.
“Master…!”
“You go on ahead, Jing Yuan. There’s something I need to discuss with [Name].”
Although you hadn’t raised your head, the hesitation in Jing Yuan’s movements were clear. The silence stretched on for a long few seconds before he sighed, “I’ll meet you after I finish, [Name].”
And then he was gone, only you and the Sword Champion remained under the tree’s shade. Blades of grass swayed under the faint breeze, but that, too, came to a standstill within seconds.
“I noticed you didn’t take the oath earlier,” Jingliu said, the silence broken.
A humourless laugh escaped your lips. “I didn’t realise the Sword Champion was keeping such a close eye on me.”
“You’re hiding your talent.” You fell silent at her abrupt statement. Your fingers twitched when she continued. “I know you’re capable of more than you let on.”
What do you know? You thought to yourself as your fingers dug into the grass. You know nothing about me, so stop acting like it.
You never understood why she was so persistent. Was it because of how close you and Jing Yuan were? Had your parents somehow managed to contact and persuade her? What did she even gain from chasing after you when it was clearly a waste of her time? Why…
“Why… why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“Because he worries for you.” Your body stilled at her words. You stayed silent for a moment before responding, albeit weaker than your previous tone.
“I’m fine. There’s no reason to worry about me.”
“…[Name]—”
“It’s probably best if you go. Jing Yuan’s waiting for you.” She faltered at your words, ultimately conceding.
A sigh escaped you when you noticed her fall back and prepare to head to their usual training spot. She lingered however, and cast a glance over her shoulder to regard you once more.
“You should visit our training sometime,” Jingliu uttered, her usual stern expression a touch softer than what you were used to. “It would be nice to train together, and you can spend more time with Jing Yuan. I hope you can at least consider it.” And then you could only watch as she walked away, the hues of the sunset steadily engulfing her form.
Back then you had scoffed at her words, unaware of the bond you would come to form with the members of the High-Cloud Quintet as a result of your wretched curiosity.
--
“Someone became mara-struck on the expedition.”
“What…?” A soft gasp came from your left. “Is that why only you…”
“Yeah,” you hummed. You had no courage to face your friend next to you, choosing to instead stare listlessly at your quivering hands. “It happened so quickly. One moment we were discussing tactics, the next we heard screaming. It was agonising. And then, in the blink of an eye…” you gulped, drawing in a harsh breath as your hands clenched into fists, “I killed her. I had to. I… I was the only one left from the team and she kept coming after me and I realised then I truly didn’t want to die and—!”
Your words came to an abrupt halt, smothered by an all-too familiar warmth. The beat of his heart against your ear calmed your erratic breaths, allowing you to regain some semblance of composure. Even when you could no longer hear the rapid pounding of your heart ringing through your ears you remained slumped against his chest, the fatigue weighing down your muscles.
“Jing Yuan,” you called in a hoarse tone, “am I a monster now?”
“You’re not,” came his immediate response. You couldn’t find it in you to believe him.
“But I killed someone, Jing Yuan! We were comrades in arms and I took her life!”
“The situation was out of your control and it was the only thing you could do. It was for your survival and to stop her from suffering any longer. You’re not a monster, [Name].” His voice was steady like a pillar of support, a calm sound that could make you believe all the prior happenings were a mere nightmare you’d just awoken from. His arms around you tightened and pushed you further into his familiarity. “You never could be. Never to me.”
That day was the first time you had ever cried so hard to the point you passed out, the exhaustion having finally caught up. That day you were left unaware of the tears Jing Yuan held back as he bore witness to your rare vulnerability, vision blurring and heart aching as he internally vowed to stay by your side — until he no longer physically could.
--
As you both grew older within this endless spiral of longevity, you could only watch as he became something more than a mere soldier of the Cloud Knights — as he began to be someone out of your reach and unfamiliar against a golden glow too radiant for you to perceive.
It wasn’t long after that you left the Cloud Knights for a placement in a newly opened cafe, having had enough of a life out of your control and dictated by others. You had stayed with the Cloud Knights long enough and you finally found the courage to leave after your numerous contributions.
And while your family may not have been pleased with your decision, Jing Yuan had been supportive, taking it upon himself to visit you when he could despite his limited free time in-between training and expeditions. The other four of the High-Cloud Quintet would tag along as well, sometimes relaying entertaining stories to embarrass the others or to simply catch up with you during your time apart as you readily prepared food and drinks for the six of you to enjoy.
It felt like a dream to still be able to laugh with them.
Unfortunately, all dreams must come to an end. It was a notion that was so glaringly obvious, and yet it never truly occurred to you; not when their visits gradually became less frequent. Not when you began to notice the tension between a couple of your friends. Not when a familiar cold lingered during the moments where all was silent and you were alone.
It was through those moments you foolishly clung to the fraying hope that everything would turn out okay — that all the budding tension would smooth itself out, allowing for you to all converse like it never happened and to move past the hurdle.
Perhaps it was because you had deluded yourself into believing everything would be okay that, the moment your fantasy shattered before your very eyes, it hit you in a way far more torturous than death could ever hope to be.
It hit you in the form of Jing Yuan returning to you on that fateful day in his lonesome, eyes hollow and empty, body battered and bruised; your heart which beat for him shattered when he slumped against you, your world crashing in pursuit. The after-effects of the sobs wracking his battle-worn being reverberated through your slack form, a seemingly endless stream of tears stung the skin along the crook of your neck as he released his unfiltered anguish within your trembling embrace.
You found there was no need to ask how the confrontation with Jingliu went, for his desperate grip and hitched breaths spoke louder than his voice ever could.
At that moment, you believed there was nothing more painful than the sound of his broken cries — your mind, body and soul yearning to take his pain and make it your own at the sheer despair in his eyes as he seeked your comfort. In that moment, you had never felt so powerless, so utterly weak and useless when all you could do in the face of his agony was lend him your familiarity in the confines of the closed cafe.
Even now, seven hundred years later, you still do not believe there to be anything more painful.
During your quiet moments, you’ve always wondered what it would be like to experience some of the scenes penned in countless novels you’ve read. Would they be just as heart-throbbing as the authors depict them to be? Or would they fall flat and lacklustre when put into a real-world scenario?
What about the stories you’ve overheard during your shifts, or the tales the regulars recounted during the slow days? Would they ever happen to you as well? You’ve always wondered about these things, however…
Just what is this situation?? Isn’t it a bit too similar to that one scene in a novel you recently read? Well, it’s not as if you’re hiding away in the middle of an apocalypse, but the setting of an empty cafe after dark where it is just the two of you still remains the same.
Jing Yuan stands before you, his imposing silhouette prominent against the fragmented brushes of moonlight, pools of molten gold stark against the night’s backdrop. He remains still in the face of your racing thoughts.
The pelting rain (courtesy of the alliance’s artificial weather) drowns your thoughts. In all honesty, you can’t recall how you came to be in this situation. One moment you were closing up the cafe, the next a sudden downpour arrived alongside a drenched general. In your haste to bring him inside, you didn’t stop to think about why he was in the rain in the first place, the only objective in your mind being to dry him as soon as possible.
And so that’s what you did. Only, in your attempt to persuade the man to share an umbrella and walk back home, you were pulled back into him, the umbrella rolling helplessly across the floor as he rooted you in place by the presence of his hands on your shoulders.
Which leads you to your current predicament now.
“What is it?” you ask upon noticing his silence. There is hesitation in his silence. It prolongs in the way a void is endless, stretching on for miles upon miles with no end in sight. There’s a flicker of light in the form of his voice as he brings himself to speak, his words firm yet lacking that usual self-assured intonation he always has.
“Am I someone close to you? No, do you consider me as someone close to you?”
“What nonsense are you…” your words die out when you fail to see his usual air of playfulness, a grave countenance piercing you in its stead. “Of course I consider you as someone close to me. I wouldn’t have spent centuries upon centuries by your side otherwise.” He doesn’t seem to take your light jest well, if his darkening expression has anything to say about it.
“Then why are you still formal with me, even when in private and away from prying eyes?”
“Because you’re one of the Seven Arbiter-Generals, while I am a cafe employee. In a realistic perspective, we are not the same and I’m aware of our boundaries. In fact,” you mumble, meeting his conflicted gaze with a blank one, “I should be the one asking you if I’m someone close to you.”
It’s silent for a brief moment, up until a whispered murmur of “And just who is the one speaking nonsense now?” shatters it.
Your patience, too, shatters alongside it.
“Then what else am I supposed to think when you’re always keeping things from me? You’re always asking about what I’ve done in the day and prying into the details of my life, but what about you? Whenever I ask how things are, or if there’s anything troubling you, you just brush it off like it’s nothing and avoid answering altogether! Am I not allowed to worry about you? Am I not someone who can lend you a shoulder?
You always blabbered about sharing each other’s pain, to not keep our hardships to ourselves, but take a look at yourself first. ‘Am I someone close to you?’ ‘Do you consider me as someone close to you?’ You have no right to ask me those questions when it’s you who's been the one keeping their distance this whole time. What…” A shuddering breath escapes you, your mouth running dry amidst your high emotions. There’s a dull pain which spreads through your bottom lip, your teeth digging into the soft flesh just as your nails do in your palms. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you can only hope it's enough to prevent the well of tears building behind your lids. “What else am I supposed to do if you refuse to let me in?”
You’re tired, you come to realise. Tired of his avoidance and tired of his secrecy. Even if you don’t have the energy to voice your other built-up sentiments, you have an inkling he already knows — whether or not he wants to admit it… well, that’s a problem for him, not for you.
The sigh you release is heavy; heavy with emotion and fatigue.
Your gaze drifts to the window behind the silent man. Despite the ripples in the puddles, the previous downpour has begun to let up, now only a faint pitter patter is all that remains. Seeing how Jing Yuan has made no effort to move or speak, you decide it would be best to leave as soon as possible. After all, there is no fight left in you, only a frail shell hollowed by your insecurities.
When you try to move, however, his grip tightens. You’re pulled closer than you were just a moment ago and his fingers dig into the fabric of your clothing — as though he were desperate to keep you in his sights. Your protests die before they can even arise, for the way his eyes glimmer despite there being no light renders you immobile.
“Do you really not see?” His voice comes in the form of a broken whisper, and you try to suppress the suffocating ache in your heart when he gazes at you as though he witnessed you pluck the stars and hand it to him.
“See what?” you scoff, a weak sound that pales against the hammering of your pulse. “All I see is a coward running away from his problems.”
A cold silence. A trembling grip. A shuddering breath.
“You’re right. I am a coward.” You’re taken aback by his ready agreement, though you’re unable to dwell on it for long when his voice gradually begins to rise, his emotions spilling over in pursuit. “I run from problems I cannot handle. I avoid anything that can be deemed as troublesome. I fear that if I burden you with my pain — with my hardships — you will grow tired of me and leave. You’re already so far away, you’ve always been so far from my reach, and yet…” A strained gulp follows his dying words. “And yet if even your fading silhouette is something I can no longer see, then I don’t know what I will do with myself.”
There’s a plethora of things you want to say, but none can be articulated. No matter how much you try and force the words out, nothing is uttered. Just as you think the words will string together, he laughs, humourless and empty.
“You’re right. I have no right to ask you when I’m the one pushing you away — when I’m the one causing this rift between us. But what else must I do to stay by your side, if not this? Where else can I reach you, if not shadowed by your light? You’re the last person I want to lose, [Name], so please,” his voice trembles ever so slightly, a detail that would go unheard if it were not for the fact it is just the two of you, a desolate silence, and frail streaks of moonlight, “don’t go to some place I can’t find you.”
His chest heaves in tandem with his shuddering breaths, the only sound which punctures the still air. You’re not sure which is louder: that, or the white noise ringing amidst your senses. There is no room for thought, however, as you barely take note of your lips parting and the words which leave them.
“You… make me feel like a fool the longer I stay with you.” Your words are not loud, nor are they particularly harsh. But with the current atmosphere being so tense, you may as well have shouted them from the bottom of your heart with the way the echo ricochets within the empty cafe.
Even if your words are not loud, the silence most definitely is; deafeningly so.
After your… confession, for a lack of better words, belatedly registers in your conscience, you have half a mind to slap yourself silly. After all, who in their right mind responds to such an emotional, heartfelt barrage with… that.
You, it would seem.
(A petty part of you deems it fine considering the inner turmoil he’s put you through for Aeons knows how long.)
“Do you want to know something?” he asks, leaving you with no time to linger on your life choices. “When I’m with you, I feel like a fool as well.” Your surprise must have been obvious as he chuckles lightly with a gaze never straying from you. There’s a subtle shift in the atmosphere, one which lightens your heart without dismissing the emotions woven into the space between you. Before you can even think up a response, he continues. “Even if I rehearse what I plan to say to you, it rarely comes out the way I want. Sometimes the words don’t even come out at all. It’s always been this way, even before we became acquainted with each other.”
You blink at his words, stupefied. “You mean back when we were first enlisted into the Cloud Knights?” His sheepish chuckle is answer enough. “Wait— you mean— since all the way back then— huh??”
“Yeah,” he responds, voice light and teeming with unbridled affection, “since the moment I saw you in the welcome ceremony.”
????? Since then?! All you can remember is not wanting anything to do with him back then! To think you never noticed anything until he said it now, though technically it’s not entirely your fault since he never explicitly said anything… right?
Yeah, no it’s both your faults.
“I’m sorry to not have noticed anything till now,” you sigh, your head drooping. “Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”
(Jing Yuan just barely manages to control himself from kissing you senseless right then and there. Who gave you the right to be so adorable?? Not him, but you won’t catch him complaining.)
“Anything, you say?” he asks after a cough or two. Your eyes narrow at his behaviour before shrugging it off.
“Well, within reason…” you trail off at his pointed look, your mouth instantly shutting at his expression akin to — dare you say — puppy-dog eyes. It’s oddly cute, though you’ve always found his sleepy, cat-like demeanour to be the most endearing and heart-melting of all. (Not that you would ever admit this to him, of course. Well, not when he’s awake, at least.) And so, unsurprisingly, you relent. “Okay. Anything.”
“Then don’t be formal and act distant in public. Just call me ‘Jing Yuan’ familiarly like you used to.”
You blink once, twice. “...That’s it?”
“Well,” he drawls, “considering how you only addressed me as ‘General’ or ‘General Jing Yuan’, which was admittedly closer to my preference, despite being one of the few who were well aware I never wanted to be a general in the first place, I believe it’s the least you can do to show your sincerity.”
You scoff. “You sure know how to hold a grudge, foolish Jing Yuan.”
And he laughs, a breathy melody which sets your heart ablaze. Then you feel his fingers thread through yours, the faint callouses brushing against the back of your hand a testament to his battle prowess.
His lashes flutter shut as your hand is brought up towards his lips. Just as the plush of his lips grazes against your palm, his head dips, instead planting a soft kiss along the pulse point of your inner wrist. There’s a huff of laughter against your warmed skin, and you’re positive it’s because he found amusement in the way your pulse surged and stuttered under his lips.
Smug bastard.
His lashes flutter once more when they open into a half-lidded gaze, your wrist growing ticklish as his lips begin to move against your skin as he murmurs out, “I suppose that makes two of us, my foolish [Name].” When he turns to stare at you completely, his expression is nothing short of soft — eyes filled to the brim and overflowing with tender adoration doused in liquid gold and a warm, gentle curve of a smile that has you clammed up and breathless.
“Yeah,” you mumble after regaining some semblance of composure, unable to stop the smile which blooms on your lips, “I suppose it does.”
if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33
#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#jing yuan x reader#jingyuan x reader#honkai star rail x you#hsr x you#jing yuan x you#jingyuan x you#honkai star rail imagines#hsr imagines#honkai star rail fluff#hsr fluff
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Hi I was wondering if you could make a part 2 worth the dateables for the “in another universe” fic. I just read it and it was amazing and now im crying 😭.
in another universe...
includes : diavolo, barbatos, simeon, solomon.
summary : what could have been, in a better universe.
warnings : gn! reader. angsty angst. death & mortality (solomon). prob a little ooc but shhhh. italics indicate the 'other universe.'
part one here.
DIAVOLO
...you weren't the prince of the devildom.
It was another day filled with princely duties, and another day you find yourself all alone. It was painfully empty in the large bed, and you knew you couldn't do a thing to fix it. Instead you close yours eyes and wish you could have woken up in his arms.
In a perfect world, you'd wake up in the arms of your beloved. Not Prince Diavolo, just Diavolo. You'd wake up to the feeling of kisses peppered against your face, and giggles would fill the room as you try to push him away but he won't relent. "G'morning my love," he whispers between kisses, "We gotta get up~"
"Noo," you whine, and he chuckles, pulling away to look at your cute scrunched up face. "Let's just call in sick and stay in bed allllll day." You peak an eye open to see Dia, who grins.
"Sounds like a perfect idea." And thus the day was spent burning making food, watching shitty tv drama, and cuddling- and of course kissing too.
But when you open your eyes, the coolness creeps in, and the emptiness of the room is unsettling. A knock on the door alerts you of Barbatos' presences, and he speaks from the other side of the door.
"Are you awake?... Lord Diavolo asks me to send his regards, he has another day ruling over the Devildom, and wants to let you know to not expect him until late." Pulling the sheets over your face, you decide to indulge in your fantasy world a little longer before facing the harsh reality.
BARBATOS
...i came first.
It's not that you didn't understand, no you knew perfectly well that Barbatos' job was very important and required him to be away from you for long periods of time. What you didn't understand was that he refused, almost too eagerly, a day off. Diavolo noticed he'd been working him too hard and offered a little vacation. You thought he'd take it, so he could spend what little time granted he could with you, but instead...
"I was thinking we could head to the human realm, and have a nice date there."
"Oh yeah?" You coo, leaning closer to him and grinning. "And what should we do there?" He hums, deep in thought. A nice restaurant, perhaps dancing involved, walking around a fairy-light lit park, being in each others arms. Yes, that sounded nice, and thus he informed of you such thoughts. "That does sound nice, it's a date then." You press a kiss to the corner of his lip- tease. He's quick to correct your mistake, placing a proper kiss to your lips.
"You... You rejected the offer?" Barbatos undoes the buttons of his shirt, glancing over his shoulder at you with a slight frown.
"Obviously. As much as I'd like to trust him..." He tsks and shake his head, pushing away the thought. "Nevermind. Shall we turn in for the night?" He slips into more comfortable clothing, giving you that cool, unwavering smile. Ah, you don't know how much more you can put up with this...
SIMEON
...you stayed the night.
"Goodnight." Simeon spoke in a soft, quiet voice, his smile kind. It makes your heart do somersaults. You bid him a goodnight as well, and as he goes to turn, you hesitantly catch his wrist.
"You know... You could stay the night... If you wanted." His eyes widen. Stay the night? Something inside him shifts, his eyes filling with what seems to be pity.
"I'm sorry... I can't..." He speaks, gently removing your hand off his wrist and giving you a weak smile. "Goodnight." And then he leaves, not a single glance back. Did you just ruin your friendship with five words? You just wanted him to stay a little longer, just be near you for a while more...
"Stay the night?" You nod, fiddling with your shirt. "Well... I suppose that would be okay." Your eyes widen in delight. Really? He'd stay? He chuckles at your obvious enthusiasm and allows you to drag him back into your room where you set up a spot for you to sleep on the ground.
Simeon shakes his head at this. "I'll take the floor." After a little arguing, you both end up on the bed, both too jittery with excitement of staying near your crush to properly sleep. As you try to close your eyes, try to calm your mind, however, you feel a pinkie brush against yours- and feeling a little bolder, you move your hand even closer. Eventually, your hand in Simeons, and his in yours, you both with small, dorky smiles as sleep comes for you both.
Tomorrow will likely involve a long talk.
SOLOMON
...we could grow old together.
"You're going to be the cutest grumpy old man." It was an offhand comment, something you didn't really think about, you were just teasing him... But then the mood in the air shift, and it got real quiet, and you were suddenly reminded that you wouldn't be growing old with him.
"Shit... Sorry." You, but Solomon waves his hand dismissively, forcing a smile as he claims it's no big deal. It is, though, it's an incredibly big deal. Not only feeling the despair of it, but Solomon too- if he could, he'd most definitely choose mortality with you than whatever he's got going on now.
Sitting in your own separate rocking chairs, holding hands. You reading a book while Solomon nags about 'children theses days' or something or another. Getting up and then having to help him because his knees are what they used to be. Listening to a song considered old, dancing close to each other and remembering all your beautiful memories together. Eventually dying together.
Ah... But none of that will happen. He'll eventually watch you pass away, and he'll try desperately to hold on to your memory but when your face fades away from his mind who will he become? Solomon gingerly holds back tears that sting his eyes. Damn his immortality, damn it all. He truly wishes he could give it all up for a lifetime with you- it'd truly be worth it.
#obey me x reader#obey me imagines#obey me headcanons#om x reader#om imagines#om headcanons#diavolo x reader#barbatos x reader#simeon x reader#solomon x reader#angst#om angst
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Bells Ring (3)
Title: Mary of Silence
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
Warnings: Mentions of infidelity. Angst angst angst.
MDNI
John is fuming. Two strong arms shove open the doors to his chambers, startling his wife who was cozied up in his bed with a book. He quickly strips himself of his clothing in favor of slipping on a nightshirt instead, climbing beneath the duvet and rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. The queen sets her book down and rests a gentle hand on his heaving chest, eyes wide with concern.
“Mah love, wha’ is troublin’ ye?” She questions, her other hand slowly pushing away his own so that she can see his face.
“The prince,” he responds plainly.
“Wha’ of him?” Aiyla removes her hands from him completely, wrapping her arms around her stiff body nervously, jaw tight with concern. “Is he alreit? Wha’s happened?”
A sour taste settles on John’s tongue, and for a moment, he wonders if he should let his wife live in ignorant bliss of her son’s actions. When he looks up and sees the fear in her eyes, however, he realizes that he should calm her nerves with the truth, disappointing as it may be.
“Nothin’s happened, mah dearest, he is safe. But ah’ve discovered the cause of tension ‘tween him an’ the princess,” the king sighs, brushing a stray strand of copper hair from his bride’s pale face, tucking it behind her ear and placing his free hand in hers. “It seems tha’ he has found himself a mistress. The princess is rather upset aboot it.”
Silences seem to follow John, he ponders, as Aiyla does not say a word for some time. He can practically see the information processing behind her amber eyes before her brows scrunch in amusement.
“Is tha’ all?” She asks with humor in her tone, baffling the king, who immediately withdraws his hand from her freckled cheek.
“Ah beg yer pardon?” John scoffs, scratching the stubble beneath his chin as he stares at his wife incredulously.
“Ah mean tae say, is tha’ the only cause fer strain in their marriage?” Aiyla clarifies, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “My King, tha’s hardly reason fer such foolishness. Every noble has their mistress or lover, bu’ they dinnae let tha’ affect their union—or their devotion tae rule.”
“Ah have ne’er taken a mistress, nor ye a lover,” John laughs humorlessly.
The aura of shame that passes through the queen’s softening eyes makes John’s heart still in his broad chest. He releases his other hand from her grasp, rubbing his wrist like it’s been hurt, scratched by a bloodthirsty demon eager to drag him to her depths of hell. All of these years of what he thought was a perfect marriage, and he never knew that his beloved had been betraying him?
Aiyla tries to reach for him, but he shoves her arm away, nearly in tears. What kind of respectable king cries in the face of trouble? Still, he cannot help the sob that escapes his throat, or the red flush that makes its way up his neck.
“Were ye no’ already aware, John?” She frowns, rubbing her fingertips along the glossy silk of her nightgown. “Mah love-”
“Dinnae call me tha’!” John barks, shoving the duvet off of himself and standing from the bed, absolutely furious.
“Where d’ye ken ah go when we are no’ together? When ah have nae duties tae perform or relations tae have wit’ ye?”
“Ah suggest ye leave,” the king mutters just loud enough for her to hear, one shaking finger pointing towards the chamber doors.
Wordlessly, Aiyla grabs her book and swiftly walks out of his room, her form slipping past him with a rush of cool wind. John imagines the whisper of air is about as chilly as her heart, if she ever had one to begin with. He slams the doors behind her, glaring at them as if he could still see her walking away, as if she could feel his rage seeping through her skin, into her brittle bones. He only backs away when he can no longer hear the soft thud of her descending footsteps.
In a frenzy, the heartbroken king drops to his knees and pries a loose wooden plank free from the floor, his hiding place for every sentimental item he wishes to keep away from curious eyes. Among the collection are every single letter Aiyla has ever written to him, from the time before he’d ever begun courting her, up until her most recent journey to Dublin, where she frequented. John was quick to believe his wife before every voyage, when she’d tell him she was going to visit her loved ones once again. He now recognizes the truth—she was meeting someone she loves, just not relatives as he’d thought.
It makes him sick to think about all the times he had been so ignorant, so blindsided to the truth that had been right in front of him for God knows how long. Bitter teardrops spill from his glassy cerulean eyes onto the fading ink adorning the wilted paper, muddling the words he’d once clung to but now feel as empty as his soul. One by one, he tears each letter to shreds until he can no longer make out a single sentence. Each scrap of paper gets scooped up into his trembling palms and thrown into the fireplace carelessly.
Sparks of burning ash rise from the bottom of the pit and land on his face. John doesn’t even bother to swat them away, rather revels in the fleeting pain that blossoms before the flakes of char snuff out as quickly as they had arrived. He likens them to all of the happy memories he’d made with Aiyla, indulging in them for just a moment before feeling them fade away as though they had never existed in the first place. He wonders how many of those very memories she remembers, or if they’ve been replaced with those of her lover, whomever he may be.
The fire has long since burned to nothing but a fraction of what it used to be when John finally gathers the wit to climb back into his bed. The sheets still smell of the queen’s delicate floral lotions, the imprint of her head still nestled into the satin pillow beside his own.
He wonders if her lover has ever felt so lonely in her absence.
#call of duty#cod#cod mw2#johnny soap mactavish#john mactavish x reader#soap x reader#female reader#reader is fat#royalty au#SoundCloud
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fruit picking ✧ neteyam
THIS FUCKING GIF IS LEGIT MAKING ME CRY RN 😭 LOOK AT HIS SMILE I CANT DO THIS
anywho, here is my first fluffy fic! i normally stick to smut but figured i should throw some fluff (and a lil angst) into the mix so here we are! plus i love neteyam and the thought of him as a perfect mate 🫠
°˖➴ warnings: fem omatikaya reader, pregnant!reader, agedup!neteyam, l-bombs, a little angst, fainting mentions, worried teyam, happy ending dw - yawne: beloved
being three quarters of the way through your pregnancy was crazy to you and neteyam, wondering where the time had went. your stomach had quite the swell and neither of you could wait to meet your little one. despite being very pregnant, you didn't let it hold you back from doing what you loved. you had only taken a pause on your tsahik practices just recently, much to your dismay but mo'at insisted that you take a break from your duties and cherish the last bit of your first pregnancy. you still traveled through the village, picking fruit and even hunting.
today was just like any other day, out for a stroll while neteyam was doing his own duties throughout the day. you came across some fruits, deciding they would be a perfect snack for neteyam's arrival home later on. you pick a few, putting them into a woven basket that kiri had made you. you hummed as you continued on, suddenly feeling a sharp pain shoot through your head. "ah.." you wince at the sensation, placing your free hand upon your forehead. you move to lean against a nearby tree, pain becoming worse by the second. you search your surroundings, noticing that your vision has now become blurry. your eyes begin fluttering, and next thing you know you are seeing black.
"grandmother!" kiri announced as she barged into the tsahik tent, holding you up with the help of lo'ak. "what happened here?" mo'at questions, helping kiri lie your currently unconscious body down onto a woven mat. "go get neteyam" she gestures to lo'ak, urging him out the door. "i just found her in the forest, slumped down against a tree like this, i don't know how long she was like this before i got to her" kiri rambles as she grabs your hand, praying to eywa as her other hand rests atop your baby bump. mo'at collects items before she gets to work on you. neteyam bursts into the tent with lo'ak on his tail, breathing coming to halt when he spots you on the floor, his grandmother moving around you as kiri still remains at your side. "my brother, come" kiri motions for neteyam to take a seat beside her, "kiri, what happened?" he questions frantically, intently watching mo'at's actions. "i don't know, she passed out i guess? i was just walking and saw her like this, looked like she was picking some fruit.." she gestures to the basket that lo'ak had placed near the doorway. "fuck..." he mumbles and pulls on his braids, feeling angry and anxious all at once. "she will be okay, and so will the baby. grandmother is an amazing tsahik.." she hugs him from the side, his eyes filling with tears and dropping onto his crossed legs. "she has to be okay, they both have to be" he whispers, leaning more into his sister's touch. mo'at says one final sentence before leaning back on her knees, hand pressed against your forehead.
as if on cue, you take a sudden sharp breath and shoot up slightly, eyes flickering open. "stay down, my child, relax" mo'at says as she lays you back down onto your back. "yawne!" neteyam exclaims, moving to come into your view. "you're okay, i'm so glad you're okay" he exhales, placing his forehead on yours, some tears dripping onto your cheeks from his own. "i'm here, ma'teyam, don't cry" you move one hand up slowly to wipe away his tears, stroking his cheek after. he smiles softly and pulls away to kiss your forehead, looking to his grandmother, "grandmother, is the baby alright?" your breath hitches as you await an answer, that being your next question as well. "yes, healthy and well, as are you, y/n. your great health allowed your baby to be protected in this moment" she smiles and begins to clean up her items, kiri gives your hand a squeeze before getting up to help her. "both okay..." neteyam whispers, kissing your forehead again. "i don't even really know what happened" you sigh, bringing a hand to rub over your bump, "all of a sudden i got this pain, then everything was blurry... now i'm here" neteyam places his hand on top of yours, nodding as he listens to you. "i'm sure it was scary, luckily kiri stumbled across you" you smile and grab kiri's hand just as she goes to collect the last of mo'at's items, "thank you, kiri. you literally saved my life," you nod down to your stomach "and theirs". she smiles back, "you do not need to thank me, i would do anything for you and the baby". you allow her to grab the items, looking back to neteyam.
"can you help me sit up? i'm feeling a bit more steady" he holds one arm out for you to hold while the other helps you up from your back. you get a better look around the room, spotting your basket of fruit by the doorway. "my fruit!" you giggle, spotting lo'ak against the wall beside it. "lo'ak, did you save my fruit?" he nods and chuckles a bit, "i did, kiri was a bit ahead of me and found you first, then she called for me and demanded i bring the fruit as well", "well thank you, i'm going to enjoy that later after all this" you giggle a bit more and look to neteyam as he shakes his head. "what?! it was mainly for you, by the way" you smile and kiss his cheek. he laughs quietly, "are we okay to head home?", "yes, but be careful for the next few days, stay close to home and rested" you nod and stand up slowly with neteyam right beside you, "thank you, mo'at. you are not only my mate's grandmother and my teacher, but a wonderful tsahik. thank you" she places her hand on your cheek, smiling softly before gesturing you two to head out.
once you arrive home, neteyam hugs you as tightly as he can with your bump in the middle, hands rubbing along your back. "scared me back there, yawne" you nod and hug around his neck, toying with his braids. "i know, i was scared too, when i fainted... had no clue what was going on. and i worried about the baby... first thing i thought of when it all went black, same with when i woke up" you sniffle a bit and nuzzle into his neck. "well you're both healthy and both here, which is what matters most" he whispers as he continues rubbing your back, pure love and relief surrounding your bodies. you nod into his neck, relaxing instantaneously under his touch. "i love you, ma'teyam, thank you for being the best mate and best soon to be dad" you move out of his neck to stare into his eyes, sparkling with adoration, "i love you too, so much.. you're the best mate, honestly, and i know you'll be the best mother" he leans in, lips interlocking with yours in a devoted kiss.
#avatar#avatar 2009#atwow#avatar fic#atwow fic#avatar masterlist#avatar the way of water#avatar smut#avatar fluff#avatar angst#atwow smut#atwow fluff#atwow angst#atwow master list#neteyam#neteyam sully#neteyam x reader#neteyam fic#neteyam smut#neteyam fluff#neteyam angst#jake sully#jake sully x reader#jake sully fic#lo’ak sully#lo’ak x reader#lo’ak fic#lo’ak smut#jake sully smut
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Yan Alastor when he sees his kids arrive in hell? The family is soon to be back together again!!? I need some angst! The family drama is crazy, and im all for it.
Also i hope you’re doing okay! Sending you some supportive vibes!! Remember to take care of yourself and take breaks!
Ps: Al would totally forgive his daughter of his death and compliment her daughters aim.
STUCK WITH U?
[you should prob read the story first!]
— reunited with your children years after your death, something strange happened.
hello, nonnie!! im doing well as long as u guys r enjoying this story 🥰💕
beloved mother, wife, and daughter
resting beside her love, may her soul find his in the afterlife
if you tried to be optimistic, hell wasn’t so bad. you never had to worry much for the exterminations. nor, did you have to worry about being harassed on the streets of hell by various sinners. after all, alastor was there to protect you.
but despite that, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t tear you down to make you compliant.
you sat in a corner of alastor’s broadcast tower as he brutally tore apart another overlord. and as he went off the air, he turned to you. “are you enjoying yourself, my doe?” he asked. “i don’t understand why i have to be here…” you said, mentally hurling from his new pet name. “you’re so delicate, my love. one trip and you could break! i have to be there to make sure you’re well at all times.” he cooed to you. “stop patronizing me, alastor. i won’t let you take away my dignity.” you glared at him. “darling, i may not own your soul. but, you are still my wife. you are mine, understand?” he explained, walking to you.
you didn’t respond to him, refusing to let him degrade your self worth. to this, he grew angry— grabbing you by your jaw and scalp, his claws scratching against your porcelain skin, lovingly yet still rough, as if he thought it was for your own good. “i said, do you understand?”
his face came close to your’s as he kept a tight grip on your hair, waiting for your answer. your fight or flight response was sending signals and going haywire as you tried to pull away from his touch. “yes— gh, let go of me, alastor. please…” you begged as he finally let go. “good girl.”
and just then, an awfully convenient knock came from the door. a man with lamb-like features peered through the door. “and, who might you be?” alastor raised an eyebrow to the man. “so it’s true… d-dad..! it’s me!” the familiar voice said. could it be?
“noah— is that you..?” you asked. you hoped it wasn’t him, that he didn’t end up in hell. but at the same time, you wished to see your son one more time so badly. “momma, it’s me!” he smiled, hugging you and alastor tightly. “ah, my boy…” alastor sighed. “you’re so much older than your old man now, huh?” he remarked. but then, it hit you, he was dead.
“wh— dear, what happened, how did you die?” you asked. “killed in action, ma. guess i should’ve just retired already…” he joked. “oh, my son…” alastor grinned.
and things were normal— at least, as normal as they could be with your deranged husband. things stayed as they were for 13 years.
when rumor spread of a mysterious man-eating sinner— she uses them to build her power, and then she drops them like dirt trash. she’s amassed so much power, she’s certainly a threat to alastor’s power. if he couldn’t get rid of her, perhaps he could keep her under his thumb.
“well, how do you do, sweetheart? alastor, pleasure to meet you, quite the pleasure! this over here is my darling wife!” alastor introduced both him and yourself to the older woman with features that resembled a coyote. “alastor..? is that you, dad?” the honey-like voice asked.
alastor’s eyes had widened as he realized the woman in front of him. “little emi, is that you?” emilia reached out to hug the both of you. she aged beautifully, still as charming as she was the day you died.
“oh, my pretty girl, you’ve made quite the name for yourself down here in hell, hm?” alastor grinned at his daughter. “i learned from the best!” she laughed back.
and as they conversed, you felt like an odd man out. as if alastor was talking to his own clone. given, she is her father’s daughter after all.
“darling! our little emi is here, our little family is reunited at last.” alastor grinned to you. “this calls for a celebration, don’t you think? why don’t we have a special dinner tonight?” he suggested. by his tone, the only thing you could think of would be that he wants to have another sinner served on the dinner table. “i-i don’t know…” you shook your head in disagreement. “now don’t be such a negative nancy!” he laughed. “i’ll cook a feast tonight!” he declared, taking emilia to your home in hell.
and, just as you suspected, he served the flesh of a fellow overlord, fillet mignon style. “come now, dear, eat!” alastor said, encouraging you to take a bite. “no thank you… i’m not hungry.” you frowned, shaking your head. alastor looked frustrated as you denied him. “eat.” he said, shoving the meat into your mouth.
you felt sick. but, as he shoved it down your throat, you had no choice but to swallow. “delicious, isn’t it?” he asked. your stomach churned, the guilt settling in your gut. it tasted disgusting. but, as much as you wanted to protest, you were scared of what he’d do if you disagreed. “yes… it is— delicious.” he grinned. “lovely.”
and so, your family dynamic had returned to as it had 47 years ago. back to normal… that is, until that odd day.
you woke up in your bed, as per usual. and, there was a note where alastor should be. not that you weren’t grateful he wasn’t there though.
‘leaving for a sabbatical, you know overlord work! i’ll be home very soon, my doe. kisses and love.
~ A’
sabbatical, huh? he’ll be gone for quite a while, a year at most? and, without alastor, you’re free. it felt as if breathing fresh air for the first time. even if just for a year or so, you won’t have to be on his leash anymore. all would be well now, right?
right..?
but with your freedom, alastor’s protection was gone. sinners started to harass you. and without the company of emilia, you could do nothing but withstand it.
this is all apart of being free. might as well enjoy it until alastor returned, right? make the most of the year.
or, seven years.
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#alastor#alastor x reader#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#hasbin alastor#alastor hazbin x reader#alastor hc#alastor headcanons#human alastor#alastor the radio demon#yandere alastor#yandere hazbin hotel#yandere
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Ok I agree with dad!schlatt but the way my hc works is that c!Schlatt and c!Puffy are divorced exes and Puffy is c!Tubbo’s mom and c!Dream is his half brother.
No one knows who Dream’s dad is.
Oh and XD is Dream’s half brother also with no relationship to Schlatt whatsoever.
And Tubbo has no idea and no interest in knowing this.
Any dadschlatt truthers still out there…? 😏
Ik I am LOL. I literally have this whole theory of how that’d work. Also c!Puffy is c!Tubbo’s bio aunt. c!Foolish is c!Tubbo’s bio cousin. c!Dream is also c!Tubbo’s cousin.
None of them are aware of this 💀
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TO THE LONG FORGOTTEN PROPHECY neuvilette x gn!reader
summary speaking of prophecy— of course the fountaine citizens immediately thinking about the prophecy about fontaine's future that always haunting their sleep, remembering that what happened in the future involved their own lives. but there is one prophecy that almost (or even everyone?) everyone forgets; the prophecy regarding the hydro dragon— who has always remaining alone will meet his mate.
⋆ 𖦹 ˚。⋆ fluff, no plot/plotless, light angst, reader is not traveler, fontaine archon quests spoilers, there might be some ooc, cross posting on AO3. a/n : im trying to get out of my comfort zone by not using google translate too much! so pls be easy on me T~T (yes english is not my first language) my draft suddenly disappeared & i had to write t again
the discernible hints of the prophecy starting to become reality didn’t went unnoticed by fontaine citizens, as they started to feel anxious— even scared to death.
and of course, mortals being themselves always helplessly blamming their beloved archon. mouths vociferate loudly as they continue blamming her for not being able to do anything. but oh little did they know about what struggles she’s been facing all this time merely for the sake of her own folks, that they couldn’t even face it themselves. but they just keep howling like wolves.
‘…that all people from fontaine are born with sin that cannot be absolved; one day, the waters of fontaine will rise and the sinful people will all be dissolved into the waters, and only the hydro archon will remain; weeping on her throne- only then will the sins of the people be washed away.’
and after the prophecy has passed, the trial of sins and a 500 year long show that is finally coming to an end, and the hydro dragon finally forgiven their sins.
and when the spotlights in the opera went out one by one, the seats are empty, and furina finished her part at the performance. she remained silent. the endeavor she faced all this time is finally gone. and now the theatrical has ended, what will she do now?
a small performance that performed by furina herself must be met with painful reality; she has to go. leaving the place where she had been living, in order to start a new beginning.
in the morning she started packing her things, helped by her venerated partner— neuvilette. but she suddenly remembered something that focalor had told her before.
“ah, well.. neuvilette,” she hesitantly said. “i want to remind you about a… prophecy that i think you forgot.”
one of neuvilette's eyebrows rose in curiosity. "oh? and what prophecy is that?" he’s sure that he never forgot about an important prophecy.
‘….alas! it will rain heavily one day; the hydro dragon cry to bid farewell to his dearest friend all-the-time. only to be changed by a rainbow, now that he finally found his mate.’
“that…” neuvilette give her a heavy sigh. “i don’t believe in that prophecy.”
“why? don’t you know that it’s raining heavily outside?” he peeked at the window. and like furina said, it was raining very hard outside, and he knew why. “it will never happen,” he replied.
furina only smiled at him. because deep down in her heart, she believed that her friend would find the perfect partner. as a reward for his hard work until now.
“well then, neuvilette. goodbye and…. thank you.”
insignificant annoyance were heard with every step neuvilette takes. why does it keep raining? they said. and a small child asked his mother innocently, ‘why does the hydro dragon keep crying?’
neuvilette could only stare at his reflection in the water distorted by raindrops. even if lightning started to strike, it would not dare to approach him. for the first time in a long time, he felt worldly tranquility he had longed for.
and that's why he chose to ignore the figure standing beside him. neuvilette didn't intend to glance at that person, just to see their figure. until…
“hydro dragon, hydro dragon, don’t cry!” that sentence was like a mantra for neuvilette. for a moment he thought that the voice of the person beside him was calming and soothing.
so neuvilette take a glance at the person beside him. time seemed to stop, neuvilette's heart was caught. the person's eyes shone amidst the darkness that accompanied neuvilette, they looked at him with worry. they’re captivating, their beauty is surreal that he’s sure that he’s dreaming right now.
and suddenly, the rain stopped. a rainbow slowly began to appear from the other end. maybe, just maybe, he can believe this one prophecy.
#konstelasiv fanfic#genshin fluff#genshin x reader#genshin imagines#genshin impact x reader#genshin scenarios#neuvilette x you#neuvilette imagine#neuvillette x you#neuvillete x reader#neuvilette x reader#neuvilette x y/n#genshin x gn reader#genshin x you#genshin x gender neutral reader#genshin x y/n#genshin angst
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So About that Alley .3
Jason Todd x fmc
DC masterlist ALL OTHER PARTS FOUND HERE
Unedited***Also I swear Tumblr is messing up my spelling on purpose cuz everytime I re-read something I know I fixed it's wrong again
Alex: short, curvy, red hair, green eyes, redheads go through pain meds way faster than normal people to the point I personally don't even take them, it's a joke, they last 30 min at best
Summary: Alex finds out her bf is red hood, after she spills some not so great secrets to the masked man while stitching him up.
Warnings: Vaginismus* angst, sexual assault, self-harm, depression, drug use by Alex, violence, cursing, NSFW, smut, thigh riding, vaginal fingering, guided masturbation?, p in v (not overly described), pain during s*x, hiding said pain, hickeys?, self-hate, insecurities, eating disorder, weight loss
A/N: I do not own dc booho
"Hey, Jay," she asked in a totally calm totally cool manner the next morning, completely numb thanks to the nice little combo she'd whipped up. Not floating or un-present but not in pain, even where the arm of the couch was digging into her side as Jason squished into her, laying fully on top of her.
"Yes, my beloved?"
"Don't make me take away your books you little dork. I was just wondering if your family knows about you...you know, not being dead?"
"Uh, yeah, why?"
"Just if I happened to run into them I wouldn't wanna be like 'oh I'm dating Jason' and they'd be all 'wtf is wrong with this chick, he's dead' you know."
"I guess. Alex," he said grabbing her hand and pulling it to his mouth," I'm gonna introduce you, I'm not ashamed of you or whatever the hell else your mind is trying to say. My family is...overwhelming for most and I didn't want to scare you off."
"I get it dude, and since I just recently placed you as Robin you would have had to hire a family, or spill you deepest secrets to me. Lucky for you, I am the most understanding woman on the planet."
"I'd argue, but you're right. I'll text Alfred, the leader of the gang, and see when we can come for dinner. Be warned though, it could be tonight, they've been trying to get me to come home for a while now."
It was in fact that night. Alex scurried around for a clean pair of jeans, then after a glance in the mirror at her too large reflection she ripped them off and tossed them to the floor. A dress? No, that one has a tear. This skirt? No, it's too short. Jean short, they're clean but who the fuck wear jeans shorts to a mansion. Business slacks, no that says trying too hard. Ah ha, a superman t-shirt, and black leggings, then top it off with one of Jason's zip up hoodies.
"Is that what you're wearing," he asked with a laugh as he came into the room. In fact the laugh became a full blown fit and he doubled over nearly to the ground clutching his stomach and wheezing. With each second she got more and more self-conscious. Of course she couldn't wear what was basically pajamas to a fancy place, what was wrong with her. With a sigh she took off her boots and slid out of the leggings and switched them for her jeans, that she hated but whatever. Searching in vain for something that wasn't a graphic tee, or a business blouse she was half way through her closet when Jason recovered enough to notice what she was doing.
"No, put it back on, it's great, doll, I wasn't laughing at you, I was laughing with you."
"I wasn't laughing," she said without emotion.
"Hey, come 'er." Much to her wiggling protest he pulled her tight against him and placed several loud kisses along her scalp.
"Everyone else will be in pj's I solemnly swear, in fact I was just about to change into my matching flannel set, someone amazing bought it for me, but I can't remember who," he said tapping his chin with mock thought.
"Really?"
"Cross my heart," he said, though his fingers were crossed behind his back.
"Ok," she conceded trying to get free. He held on for another minute before spinning her out away from himself and winking when she fell back onto the bed. Matching pj's in hand he headed to the bathroom, not for privacy but to send an urgant group chat explicity stating lounge clothes were to be worn.
See masterlist for more
#bruce wayne#dc batman#dc comics#dcu#dc universe#dc fanart#batman#dick grayson#jason todd#batfam#tw depressing thoughts#depressing shit#tw depressing stuff#jason todd x y/n#jason todd x you#jason todd x reader#jason todd x oc#damian wayne#tim drake#vaginismus#angst
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Poly Xianle Quartet Dynamics Headcanons/Thoughts
Okay so first we have our main big ships: Hualian and Fengqing
Xie Lian x Hua Cheng: our star-crossed lovers duo. Constant heart eyes. We know them. We love them. It’s very important to me that they both love each other the same intense amount tho.
Feng Xin x Mu Qing: Rivals to lovers type. I think they both definitely had a crush on each other when they were younger, a bit of a “fuck this guy but also he’s kinda pretty wait what-“. I think post-canon they finally try and do get over their general angst and bad communication and become a duo that really make a fantastic team when they can. Like. Not kill each other enough to actually listen. The Martial Gods of the South. They’ve been at each other’s side (and at each other’s throats) almost always since they’ve met, and I think that fact really is the foundation of their dynamic.
Alright, now the more fun stuff.
Xie Lian x Feng Xin: ‘Body Guard x Royal’ dynamic my beloved. I think they’re very much childhood friends to lovers too. Like saw each other in diapers type. I think Feng Xin was born to a noble family (with a strong martial background) that was mostly dead by the time the kingdom fell, and therefore was one of the few people deemed high ranked enough to be friends with the Crown Prince. Which makes him like. The person Xie Lian knew the longest. Intensely loyal, especially post-canon once they get over their angst. Honestly I think they may be a little bit codependent for a bit, but they ease out once they’ve settled into their relationship again. There’s definitely more to say here but I’ll leave it at that for now.
Xie Lian x Mu Qing: Ah yes, it’s the Unrequited Love complex they both nurtured for me. I read It’s In Your Warmth, I Feel The Coldest, by PeacefulDiscord on ao3 (it’s great you should check it out). And they wrote a line which really pinned down their relationship for me; “I always thought of you as my beauty,” Xie Lian says. His gaze is firm even as his hand gentles where he’s still holding Mu Qing. “My jade. My love for you drove me mad, it made me too harsh when I believed you to have discarded me so easily.” And that right there has to be the crux of their relationship. I think they both crushed on each other when they were younger, and they found each other’s differences fascinating. But that difference in class made it so difficult for them to actually understand each other. I think post-canon, once they both have lived closer to the contexts of each other’s childhoods, they both have a much better understanding of the other person. They both had strong insecurities when it came to each other, a balancing act when they never knew what the other might take the wrong way. And the power imbalance that Mu Qing was always intensely aware of and that Xie Lian never even considered. Which made them lash out the minute they felt unsure. Assumptions galore. I think after a long chat post-canon, they settle into a sweet and close relationship again, and I think their experiences after they parted lent them a new understanding of each other they bask in now. The intense admiration (and love) they have for each other goes unshadowed now.
Alright, now probably the most juicy dynamics (at least in my opinion):
Hua Cheng x Mu Qing: I headcanon that they knew each other, when they were kids. Same impoverished neighbourhood type. I’m not sure how close that relationship was, but I think they definitely had one, even if it was just Mu Qing lying about Hong Hong’er’s whereabouts when his family or some other kids try to hurt him. They have lots of animosity to get through, especially regarding the whole Xie Lian stuff. And I think because their childhoods were similar, it made Hua Cheng even less inclined to forgive Mu Qing for what he viewed as his abandoning Xie Lian (especially cause I wouldn’t have done that, he thinks to himself). I think Hu Cheng also envies him the relationship he had with Xie Lian when they were younger, thinking him undeserving. I think any headway they make happens after an explosive verbal fight, which is probably how their other two lovers learned they knew each other when they were young. Once they actually talk out the resentment, I think their relationship eases a bit. The spark of admiration they had for each other when young erupts into a whole forest fire pretty quickly after that. (Mu Qing was definitely Hua Cheng’s gay awakening when they were younger, and Xie Lian was Feng Xin’s. Mu Qing’s was Feng Xin, to his eternal despair and Feng Xin’s eternal smugness. And Xie Lian’s was obviously his San Lang, it was almost Feng Xin tho, but he was too oblivious). They turn that lingering animosity into gossiping and judging people together, it’s their favourite bonding activity. I think their shared background eventually makes Hua Cheng the person that can read Mu Qing the easiest, and Mu Qing the person that catches Hua Cheng’s insecurities the easiest too. Their relationship is surprisingly soft. Theres is a slow burn.
Hua Cheng x Feng Xin: These two bitches might actually be enemies to lovers. Hate at first sight. Hate for a long while after. They have no basis for a relationship outside of their assumptions about each other, and the early post-canon years consist of snide remarks and actual fist fights sometimes. Their own unique relationship with Xie Lian means they have no qualms about throwing him at each other’s face, and it wasn’t until they almost made him cry doing that they finally calmed down a little. Still. Lots of animosity that doesn’t get solved until some sort of mission together forces them to actually exist around each other enough to not try to explode each other with their brains. They realise, after a fraught silence, that they’re both quite similar. Especially with loved ones. Especially when it’s loyalty. And they both, respectfully, hate this new understanding of each other. “What do you mean I can’t get mad at him for doing the most for someone he believes and is loyal to?!” “What do you mean I can’t hate him for leaving our shared lover because he proved more loyal when being asked to leave?!”. Unfortunately for them, this does prove to be the ice breaker for their relationship. They end up bonding over their shared drive to keep their loved ones safe, and they understand each other’s intense more than anyone else. It’s a slow surprise to both of them when that starts to include each other as well. But they find it’s nice to be the object of someone’s intense for once too.
Alright that’s all for now. I clearly had more thoughts than I assumed.
#seriously this was not meant to be the essay it turned into#can you tell this is my newest obsession#heaven official's blessing#tian guan ci fu#poly xianle quartet#feng xin#mu qing#hua cheng#xie lian#polyamory#xianle quartet#fengqing#huaqing#mulian#fenglian#hualian#huaxin#so many ships lmao#headcanons#dandy’s deliberations
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if i could just get my hands on you.
feat: bonten!mikey, kokonoi, kakucho, + sanzu. i really wanted to put the haitani brothers in but i cant think of anything rn ;-;. afab! reader x bonten.
a/n: this probably, most definitely ooc bc lets be real they would most likely not hold back(unless ur kakucho) but this was self indulgent for me!
warnings: i say “maybe” a lot. face-fucking (kokonoi), voyeurism + panty!! stealer!! kakucho my beloved!!!, a bit of angst, drug mentions/usage(sanzu), squint and there’s some yan, oral f! receiving(sanzu). minors dni.
manjiro sano always gets what he wants. it doesn't matter if it's something as simple as taiyaki or becoming the most notorious gang in japan. every request is met with a "yes, sir.” but for some reason, mikey, just can't have you. his pretty receptionist. he’s not entirely sure why he doesn't just order you into his room, bullying his way into your tight cunt and fucking you dumb. maybe it's the way you always smile at him, even as he's just ordered sanzu to kill the three rival gang grunts begging for their lives off-site. or maybe it's the way you make him his tea every morning, doing your best to make sure its just right and none of it spills. you're so sweet to him and yet every time he touches you, he feels the way you stiffen. the way you begin to tremble when he gets too close. he thinks you shine brighter than the sunlight that peeks through the curtains onto his desk. perhaps, there is still a piece of the old mikey left, because he just can't bring himself to hurt you. so instead, he fucks the next whore that sanzu throws at him wishing it was you.
due to his massive amount of wealth, kokonoi hajime, loves to spoil his girls. anything they want, he gives, as long as he gets what he wants in return. which means face-fucking them until he shoots his load down each one of their throats, throwing them away until he calls them up again with another tempting wad of cash and the promise of luxury. you walked in on him once, trying to fulfill one of mikey’s orders. a small gasp left your mouth once you realized what was happening. you shut your eyes, immediately apologizing and slamming the door. after that incident kokonoi wanted you to see him again. he’d think about it every time he shoved his cock deep into one of his playthings. would you run away again? probably. or maybe, you'd join in and beg him to take you next. he'd like that, he thinks, as he slams into one of his girls, a bit frustrated that her moans and wails were doing nothing for him. ah, if only he had the guts to ask mikey if he'd want a new receptionist.
kakucho is in love with you. every morning, he waits to hear you greet him. and every night, he waits for you to take his blood stained coat off and welcome him home. unfortunately for him, you do that for all of them. bonten's little maid, who runs around the base tending to each and every one of them. sure, they have the money and the access to all the top doctors in japan, but most of the time you're enough. as japan's top gang, no one really ever stands a chance against them in a fight and anyone who does is promptly shot. he feels so guilty, stroking himself with your used undies, outside your bathroom door. he drinks in your sweet voice as you hum a familiar tune, his little songbird. he desperately wishes he could slip inside your shower, your back arching against his chest, fingers sinking deep into your cunt. he imagines kissing you to swallow your moans, hand coated in your slick as he fucks you thoroughly on his fingers. ever so gently, he’d ease you onto his aching dick, feeling the flutter of your plush walls. he thinks you’d look so beautiful, more than usual, being bounced on his cock, water running down your body. he climaxes quickly once he hears the water switch off, stuffing your soiled panties into his pocket. he hopes you won’t notice this is your third missing pair.
sanzu haruchiyo needs you to need him. its only fair considering how badly he needs you. when he finds himself slipping from reality or sobering up from a bad trip, your voice always calls out to him. “sanzu… sanzu?” he blinks, your fuzzy form bringing some much needed company. as he continues sobering up, you always bring a cup of water to his lips, coaxing him to drink. it’s mind numbingly sweet the way you swipe at his scarred mouth when some liquid drips. you always dim the lights as well, not wanting to overstimulate him as he sobers up. if he wasn’t so fucked up he’d probably pounce on you then, ripping your clothes to shreds as he dives face first into your pussy. sanzu wants to feel the tug on his pink locks, envisioning how you would desperately grind on his face inching closer and closer to completion. what he would give to taste you just one time, to be completely soaked in your juices. he could probably eat you out for hours, licking and sucking on your poor puffy clit. maybe he’d tongue fuck you next, ignoring your pleas and overstimming you until you’re a trembling mess on his bed. but those are just dreams and by the time he’s grounded in reality, you’re gone, back to mikey’s office.
#tokyo revengers#tokrev#tokyo revengers smut#manjiro sano smut#sanzu haruchiyo smut#kokonoi hajime smut#kakucho hitto smut#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo revengers x you#pibby writing#kakucho x reader#manjiro sano x reader#sanzu haruchiyo x reader#kokonoi hajime x reader
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𒆙 the god of commerce
part 3/8 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 ┈ gn!reader, crack, fluff, a sprinkle of angst, this time you’re both a humanboss and a humanfailure (tf is a gn term for girlboss and girlfailure help)
𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓊 ❬ masterlist ❭ 𐫱 𝓂𝑒𝓂𝒷𝑒𝓇𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 ❬ taglist ❭
𝑜mbré dark brown fading to gold was rex lapis’ most favored hair color, and most shop owners would use this fact on top of their god’s bright amber eyes to describe him on his ‘past visitations’, in an effort to try and pull customers into their establishments. having the god of commerce’s approval was a most effective marketing strategy, after all; who would doubt their beloved deity’s judgment when he was the one who had the idea to build a city by the harbor which was steadily getting more and more prosperous with each lunar moon that passed?
and for such a small restaurant owner such as yourself, the decision to put a little slogan next to your shop’s humble sign - claiming how rex lapis couldn’t get enough of your signature dish - was a no-brainer move. it brought in curious customers, and your little shop was located in a not-so-strategic location anyway, so what were the chances of an incognito rex lapis stumbling upon your slightly skewed business ethics, right?
riiiight.
you felt a lump of nervousness in your throat as this particular customer stared down at you with his amber eyes with gold and the slightest red lining his pupils — you sure hoped that was a natural color and not indicative of his anger.
“so you’re the shop’s owner?”
“yessir. i mean god. i mean. um.”
how do you politely address a god to their face? you had no idea. you weren’t educated enough to know and you never thought you had any reason to need to know.
thankfully, he didn’t seem to mind your lack of reverence. instead, his lips seemed to curl upwards.
huh. maybe he didn’t notice my little lie and was just here for a good meal?
“and you started this business, yes? your shop’s name does not ring any bells.”
“well… yeah, uh… my dad was a peddler and mum was a greengrocer, so. yep.”
“ah, i see, i see,” his voice was deep and calming, and you were about to gesture towards the wooden menu to allow him to choose a dish when his next words made you feel like you’d been hit with a petrifying spell — just like the ones the storytellers on the streets would narrate, “then pray tell, do remind me at which point after your establishment’s founding, have i ever said that i was… in your own words - ‘infatuated’, by your so-called signature dish? you see, if my memory serves, it has yet graced my tastebuds.”
fuck.
“ahaha… w-well…… you see…… about that…….,” you coughed and averted your eyes guiltily, trying to rack your brain on how to escape the divine punishment you were sure about to receive, and the effort came out in a jumble of words, “…. look, mister- uh- god. i gotta be able to feed myself somehow and i didn’t think it would hurt anyone but okay fine sorry i was so so wrong but if i let you dine for free will you consider not flattening me and my poor shop with your stone pillars? please? oh great archon?”
rex lapis’s fingers snapped open his folding fan, and for a moment you swore you saw a flash of a smile before the intricately drawn paper covered the lower half of his face. you also swore you saw mirth dancing beneath the elegant lines of his raised eyebrows and the way the corners of his eyes formed a gentle crinkle. this observation, though it might have been the works of your distressed imagination, made you dust your deflated courage off the ground.
“h-how about this,” you proposed, gesturing towards the kitchen, “give me a chance to make the slogan a reality. i promise you i’ll serve one of the best dishes you’ve ever eaten!”
“…. very well,” the immortal chuckled, “your determination and resilience is admirable. a chance is something i am willing to give.”
oh, blessed be rex lapis.
a few minutes of mental breakdown in the kitchen and a series of anxiety-filled food preparations later, you returned to his table with a tray full of side dishes and the main course, steaming hot and still bubbling inside the heated clay pot. you had no money to serve him his favored osmanthus wine, but you do have freshly dried osmanthus flowers, so as he observed the feast, you poured him a fresh brew and placed it right beside the little ornamental vase housing a single yellow hibiscus. you would have silently prayed to your god in the hope that the food was to your guest’s taste, but seeing as how the very same holy being was also the source of your anxiety, it seemed akin to washing coal.
the god of wealth gently picked up the wooden spoon and dipped it into the hot broth, before his lips closed around the utensil.
…..
a thoughtful hum rose from the back of his throat.
you half expected him to turn up his nose in disgust, but you were surprised to see how he repeated the action, as if trying to savor the taste with utmost diligence. it was only when he had properly sampled each of the ingredients inside the soup, he finally lifted his gaze to meet your gaze across the table.
“what a complex, rich flavor,” was his comment, “what is your secret?”
flabbergasted, you nearly spilled your entire cooking process and the detailed recipe like a sinner confessing their transgressions in order to beg for forgiveness - but you managed to refrain yourself at the last second. you did, however, let the rush of dopamine take over the forefront of your mind.
a proud smile not unlike a freshly bloomed glaze lily lit up your expression, “sorry, but i’m not selling my trade secrets! not even to rex lapis himself, hehe! uh- well, maybe if i die with no children or if i don’t have anyone who wants to continue the business, i might tell you- but! for now, it’s a secret!”
“ah, the farseeing mind of a businessman,” he nodded, “fair enough. i suppose it means i have to frequent your shop if i ever crave such delicacy.”
“ha! told you you’d get addicted!” you grinned cheekily, watching him elegantly continue to enjoy the cuisine, “… should i pack one up for you to take back home- palace- uh, wherever your godly abode is? as a birthday present?”
morax felt his temporary mortal vessel heat up, warmer than the indulgent food within his stomach, warmer than the sunny radiance of your smile.
“you need not try so hard, i never had the intention of ‘flattening’ you and your shop for a fairly harmless attempt at dishonest advertising. however, i must implore you to not take such risks moving forward.”
“…. alright, alright, sorry……,” you scratched your cheek sheepishly, “but i’m glad the great rex lapis actually liked my cooking! if you ever decide to stop by again, i’ll feed you other things,” you flashed him a cheerful grin, and unbeknownst to you, the geo archon felt his chest quake.
quickly shaking himself out of his stupor, your patron nodded in approval.
he did eventually learn the secret recipe of your infamous slow-cooked bamboo shoots soup. the handwritten recipe card was tucked neatly within the letter your apprentice-turned-next-owner had given him after your passing. inside it, you had penned down both an abstract yet also tangible step-by-step instructions; quality and care, time and patience, meticulousness and attentiveness.…
yet none of your successors, not even the ones who turned it into a pavillion and the leading beacon of one of the distinct cooking styles that represented liyue, could recreate the same taste of the very dish you cooked for him that day.
…. ah. but of course.
it was only natural, seeing as how he could not see your smile across the table as he ate anymore.
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
#genshin impact#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#zhongli#zhongli x reader#rin writes#∞ / 𝟔 𝟎 𝟎 𝟎 ⁺
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♡ Summary: Y/N loved her members with all her heart, they were her brothers. They raised her since she was fourteen and now she is twenty-five, she was old enough to make adult decisions. Well, not in their eyes.
♡ Rating: Pg - 14
♡ Genre: 8th member au, comedy, romance, fluff, and little angst
Authors note: Surprise idol boyfriend lol
L/N Y/N was the eighth member of Bts. She was younger than Jungkook by one year and everyone always compared them too. It was annoying but what else did she expect, she was the only girl in a primarily boy group. She was on the quiet side when she was younger, she would only talk to Seokjin and Yoongi. They made her think of her older brother back at home and it was comforting to be around something so familiar. She didn’t really shine until the DNA era because she was finally an adult and felt more comfortable in her skin. Her relationship with the members grew and Army saw the true her.
Now she was twenty-five, she was a beloved idol in the industry. She had a sweet angelic voice that sounded like snow falling during winter and many said she had a siren’s voice. While all her members did their solo albums, Y/N took this time to truly relax and focus on her life more. Seokjin and Hoseok already went to the military, something that saddened her but she knew they would be back.
Y/N looked around before entering the tall building. She smiled at the receptionist who recognized her immediately (then again who wouldn’t), “Ah, Y/N. Back again.”
“Yeah, I am. Unnie, do you know where he is?”
She smiled at this and nodded her head, “He’s in the dance room on the fourth floor. Room 2B.”
“Thank you, unnie.”
Y/N bowed at the older woman and made her through the building. She made sure her hat covered her eyes the best she could, she didn’t want attention on her. She listened to his voice through the elevator and a smile appeared on her lips. She always loved his voice and how he could easily carry the song with his high note, it was just beautiful. She knocked on the dance room door and she opened it to see him standing there already looking at the door with a smile.
“Jagiya~.” She ran towards him as his face heated up from the name but he ignored it and wrapped his arms over her waist. She nuzzled her face into his chest as he kissed the top of her head, “I missed you so much, Doyoung.”
“I missed you too.”
Y/N and Kim Dong-Young from NCT have been dating for almost two years now. All the members of NCT knew about the couple but her members had no idea that she was even seeing someone. She never really talked about people she was interested in, she kept it to herself. She met Doyoung during the end of the Golden Disk Award backstage.
She accidentally went into the wrong dressing room and that’s how she met him. She always thought he was cute and she would be lying if she said she didn’t have a crush on him. She would always listen to NCT in secret in the dorms and whenever she saw him appear on her screen, she felt her heartbeat get faster. Doyoung was the first one to speak to her and the rest was history. He was shy and more introverted than her, she would make him talk and take him out whenever they had free time.
Doyoung wanted Y/N to move in with him but she had to figure out how to tell her members. This was a sensitive subject for the two. Doyoung understood why she was hiding but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. She felt so guilty about hiding their relationship but she knew how her members get when the opposite sex looks at her.
When they let go, she leaned up, placing a kiss on his cheek, “Did you get my flowers?”
“Yes, I did. Thank you, I loved them.”
“It’s not every day that your partner releases a sub-unit album.”
He rolled his eyes and kissed the top of her head, “When are you going to release your album?”
She wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned her head against his chest, “I’m not in a rush for it. When I do though, it will be a love song for you.”
“Aish, jagiya. You love to embarrass me.”
“I do, where’s the others?”
He pushed some hair behind her ear and smiled down at her, “I was practicing on my own today.”
“Did you eat yet, jagiya?”
“I ate this morning.”
Y/N’s head snapped at him and she glared at him, “It’s four in the afternoon and you haven’t eaten. Doyoung, that’s bad.”
“I’m sorry, do you want to go eat right now?”
She pouted her lips and nodded her head, “You can’t do that to yourself. It’s not good for your body.”
“I’m sorry, let’s go to your favorite restaurant.”
“No, let’s go to your favorite restaurant.”
Doyoung let out a small laugh and rolled his eyes, “Fine. I know your stubborn heart will make things difficult, let’s go.”
She smiled at this and leaned forward placing a quick kiss on his lips, “I always win.”
He gathered his things and grabbed her hand. His thumb creased the top of her knuckles as they headed out. They walked out of the building towards the back and headed towards his car with smiles on their faces. He opened her door, helped her into the car, and placed a kiss on her forehead before closing the door. She felt her face get hot but she shook her head. He entered the car and started playing classical music. He turned towards her and saw that she was already looking at him with love in her eyes. He smiled and leaned forward placing a longing kiss on her lips, “I love you, Y/N.”
“I love you more, Doyoung.”
“Where did she go?” Jungkook was looking through her apartment and turned towards his hyungs with a confused look. Namjoon sighed to himself and rubbed the back of his neck roughly, “Jungkook, she might have gone out with her friends.”
Taehyung entered her bedroom and his eyebrow raised when he saw an album on her bed. He walked towards it and gently picked it up. Jimin entered the room and tilted his head, “What’s that?”
Taehyung looked up at him with a frown, “It looks like our maknae has been hiding something from us.”
“Oh like what?”
Taehyung flipped the album and Jimin’s eyes squinted to read the message. His eyes quickly went wide and looked at Taehyung, “No, way!”
“What are you guys yelling about?”
They both turned towards the door frame to see Yoongi standing there. They both glanced at each other and then back at Yoongi. Yoongi is the last person that should find out her little secret, it would cause trouble for her. Taehyung shrugged his shoulders and looked down at the floor, “I saw a spider.”
“Then why did Jimin say no way? What are you holding?”
“Hyung-”
Yoongi snatched the album out of their hand to take a look. Normally he wouldn’t look at their stuff but with Jimin’s reaction, it made him worry. He glared at the album and then back at Jimin, “Do you think this is true?”
“Hyung, I-I don’t know.”
“Namjoon! Jungkook! Get in here!”
In the living room, Namjoon and Jungkook looked at each other with raised eyebrows. Jungkook shrugged his shoulders and they went inside her bedroom. Namjoon wrapped his arm over Yoongi’s shoulder, “What’s going on?”
“Y/N is dating Doyoung.”
“What?”
Yoongi handed the album to Jungkook and Jungkook glared at the album, “To my favorite person in the world. My love, thank you for the support on this album, it means the world to me. Whenever you listen to this song I hope you picture me with you on the beach. I love you, Doyoung. That little shit.”
Jimin let out a small laugh and rolled his eyes, “That little shit is older than you, kook.”
Namjoon let out a small cough and took the album out of his hands, “It's sweet that he wrote her a message. I think it's cute that she's dating someone.”
Yoongi rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over her chest, “He’s too old for her.”
“Hyung, he's only two years older than her.”
Yoongi glared at Taehyung and shook his head, “That doesn’t matter to me. He’s too old for her. Wait until I tell Jin and Hoseok this.”
“We will have that dinner this weekend with them. Should we tell her that we know this...”
Namjoon let out a sigh and shook his head, “It’s not our business.”
“It is because she's our little sister, hyung.”
“Jungkook, it’s her life and it sounds like she's happy with him.”
Yoongi tossed the album back to the bed and looked at all the members, “We’ll tell Jin and Hoseok before the dinner and we can figure it out from there. Let’s leave before she comes back. I bet she's on a date with him right now.”
Doyoung placed some rice cake on her plate and she smiled at him, “Thank you, oppa.”
His face turned red and looked away from her eyes, “D-Don’t call me that in public.”
She let out a laugh and took a bite of her tofu stew, “Why is it because of your oppa kink?”
“Jagiya! Stop it!”
She placed more rice into his bowl and gave him a smirk, “You know it's true. Speaking of oppa, we’re having dinner with Jin-oppa and Hoseok-oppa this Friday.”
“Oh, that’s good. I know how much you miss them.”
“I do miss them...I was thinking that you could come with me?”
Doyoung choked on his rice and looked at her with wide eyes, “You want me to come!?”
“I was thinking about it but I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”
“Should I be around people that know how to handle guns especially when I’m dating their little sister?”
“Good point. I'll tell them I’m dating someone then.”
Doyoung reached over and placed his hand on top of hers, “Baby, are you ready for that?”
“I want them to know I have someone in my life. I want them to see how happy you make me.”
“If you're ready then I’m ready.”
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
“Oppa, can you hand me my brush?”
Jimin looked up from his phone and nodded his head. Y/N was in her bedroom with Jimin and Taehyung getting ready for dinner. Well, they broke into her apartment and didn’t want to leave so here they are now. Y/N fixed her baby blue shirt and took the brush out of his hand, “Thank you~.”
“Of course, anything for you.”
She brushed her hair and Taehyung glanced at Jimin. Jimin shrugged his shoulders and Taehyung sighed, “Hey, Y/N.”
“Mmm?”
“You wouldn’t hide anything from us right?”
She glanced at him through the mirror and then back at her reflection, “No, why would I?”
“Just asking?”
Taehyung looked at Jimin and Jimin sighs, “We were just curious, hun. We’ll be in the living room waiting for you.”
She watched them leave and she frowned to herself. They were acting weird, weirder than normal. She shook her head and let out a small laugh, “I’m just tripping.”
They had never had an awkward dinner but tonight was the night to change that. She sat next to Jungkook and when she came in, he wouldn’t even look at her. He kept staring at his plate or he would be talking to the other members, leaving her hanging. Yoongi was more quiet than usual and Seokjin had this tight smile when she hugged him. Everyone else was acting like they were walking on eggshells. She sighed at this and slammed her chopsticks, “What’s going on?”
Namjoon smiled at her and took a sip of his water, “What do you mean?”
“You guys are acting weird...I don’t like it.”
“You know what I don’t like, liars.”
Y/N looked at Yoongi with a confused look and furrowed her eyebrows, “What do you mean?”
Jungkook looked at her and shook his head, “Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Tell you what? What-”
“Y/N.” She looked at Jin and saw that he had a serious look. She wanted to disappear because she hated this look on him. Jin put down his chopsticks and looked at her, “How long have you been dating Doyoung?”
Oh, she hated this so much. Her mouth fell open and ignored everyone in the room but Jin, “What-How do you know?”
“Answer the question.”
“Fo-For almost two years…Oppa-”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She glanced down at the table and then back at Jin, “I didn’t tell any of you because I knew how you would react...”
Hoseok gave her a small smile and shook his head, “Y/N we wouldn’t-”
“Yes, you guys would. Look how you were treating me just now. I’m not fourteen anymore, I’m twenty-five. I thought you guys would be happy for me.”
Jungkook scoffed next to her and shook his head, “You hid this from us and you think you have the right to get mad at us?”
“Stop treating me like I’m a little kid. You guys got mad that I was talking to Changkyun and even threatened Shownu to keep him away from me. We were just talking about a video game. So yeah, I’m sorry that I hid this from you guys but you made things hard for me.”
Yoongi slammed his hand on the table causing her to jump. She glanced at Yoongi feeling small under his eyes, “Everything we do is to protect you, Y/N.”
“Oppa, I know that but-”
“It hurts that you hid this from us. We could’ve celebrated together but now were hurt because of you hiding the truth. Have you ever thought about that?”
She frowned at this and looked down at the table. She shook her head and then looked back at Yoongi, “Oppa, you guys don’t-”
“Y/N you should’ve just told us.”
She looked at Namjoon and shook her head at this. She stood up from the table and looked at them with a sad look, “You guys always treated me like a kid. I know I’m the youngest but I’m an adult now. Every time I tried talking to a guy you guys pushed them away from me. I’m sorry I kept this away from you guys but you guys need to understand why I did it. Oppa, I’ll call you when you are free at the camp. Bye.”
She ran out of the restaurant and took her phone out. She dialed Doyoung’s number as she let the tear escape from her eye. She sniffled and roughly wiped her eyes, “Jagiya, can you-can you pick me up?”
“Are you okay? You sound like you're crying.”
“Please pick me up...I’m at the restaurant that you took me to last week.”
“I’m five minutes away. I’ll be there soon. I love you.”
“I love you more.”
He came by fast and it even shocked her how fast he got there. He got out of his car and wrapped his arms around her waist. He kissed the top of her head, “What happened?”
“How did you get here so fast?”
“Ignore that, what happened?”
She sighed and wrapped her arms around his waist, “They were being difficult...can I stay at your place tonight?”
“Of course, you can. Let’s go.”
Seokjin watched from the window and let out a deep sigh. He turned towards the guy and shook his head, “You guys didn’t handle that right.”
“Hyung-”
“No Jungkook. I was going to tell her I’m disappointed in her but I would love to meet him. You guys took it too far and treated her like she was small when she’s not. She’s at the same level as us.”
Yoongi shook his head at this, “She’s our little sister-”
“Who’s twenty-five, hyung.”
Yoongi turned his head towards Hoseok who gave him a look making him sigh, “I know she’s twenty-five...I just want to protect her still.”
Hoseok sighed at this and took a sip of his water, “You can’t always protect her, hyung. She has to go through life and we just have to support her.”
“Fuck, I know. We need to apologize.”
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
It’s been three days since the dinner and Y/N hasn’t really talked to anyone. Jin and Hoseok already apologize for their attitude at the dinner. She of course accepted because she loves them with her whole heart and she misses them. The others haven’t even tried to say anything to her and it was honestly making her upset. She came home from a late meeting and her eyes widened when she saw Doyoung waiting in the lobby with roses in his hands.
She smiled at this and slowly walked up to him, “You got me flowers?”
He jumped at the sudden voice and gave her a small glare, “What did I say about scaring me?”
“But it's so fun.”
She took the flowers out of his hand as he rolled his eyes, “I don’t think it's fun. I thought you deserved roses after the couple of days you had.”
“Thank you, it made me feel better. You want some dinner?”
“Oh, what are you cooking?”
“I had leftover tofu and I was just gonna fry them.”
The couple made their way to her suite, talking about random things. When she unlocked the door she was met with the smell of chicken and freshly made rice. She glanced at Doyoung and he got in front of her just in case. They slowly made their way down the hallway and she pushed past Doyoung with an annoyed look, “What the hell are you guys doing?”
Her members looked at her with wide eyes and Namjoon gave her a small smile, “An apology dinner?”
“Is that a question?”
Yoongi rolled his eyes and glanced at Doyoung. He swallowed some spit and bowed at him, making Doyoung stand there with wide eyes, “I’m Min Yoongi. It’s a pleasure to meet my sister's boyfriend.”
Doyoung glanced at Y/N who just shrugged her shoulders. He turned towards Yoongi and bowed back, “I-I’m Kim Dong-Young, Y/N’s boyfriend…”
Jungkook smiled at him and clapped his hands, “We wanted to make dinner for Y/N but you can sit with us, only if you want to.”
Doyoung rubbed his neck and nodded his head, “I-I would love to stay and eat.”
She glanced at Jimin and Namjoon and whispered, “This doesn’t mean you guys are forgiven.”
Taehyung overheard her and let out a small laugh, “We know but this is a start. We made your favorite.”
She rolled her eyes and nodded her head, “Thank you oppa…”
Jimin smiled and kissed her forehead, “Let’s eat, we have to interrogate your boyfriend.”
“Oppa please don’t.”
#bts reactions#bts scenarios#bts imagines#bts jungkook#bts namjoon#bts seokjin#bts taehyung#bts jimin#bts yoongi#bts x reader#bts hosoek#Bts#bts 8th member#bts fanfction#bts fanfic
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