#and by this song i mean the silk route one

[prem-ki-pujaran]

sooooooooo..... my parents have heard me sing this song like a hundred times now cause almost roz gaati phirti hu so i thought that now, after ignoring my 'omgomgomgomg......' self, i can post this here

don't you dare judge my non existent sur-taal 🔪 (🙏)

[httpvomitello]

Hey, honey! I saw that you accept requests inspired by songs, so can I get an intense romance with Daemon x poc fem reader (who is as notorious, bold and rogue as he is). inspired by "Menina veneno" by Ritchie, please?

Hello, hello! I can also write without meaning to be inspired by some song, feel free to come back more often! Hope you like it ~ ♡

Venomous Love *⁠.⁠✧

daemon targaryen x f!reader

Daemon Targaryen had never been afraid of fire.

It coursed through his veins, the blood of Old Valyria, and he carried it in every reckless step, every bold word, every dangerous decision. But he hadn’t known true danger—not until the day he met you.

You weren’t from Westeros. The moment you’d stepped into the halls of the Red Keep, draped in silk the color of midnight, your skin gleaming like polished bronze, and your eyes sharp as a Valyrian dagger, Daemon had known you were trouble.

Trouble came naturally to him. He thrived in chaos, but you? You were chaos incarnate.

The first time he saw you, it was at a feast in King’s Landing. You had been seated at the far end of the table, your laughter echoing above the dull murmur of courtiers and lords. You had arrived as the representative of a distant kingdom, sent to negotiate trade routes or something equally dull.

Daemon hadn’t cared about the details. What mattered was the way you moved, the way your voice cut through the air like a blade, effortlessly commanding attention.

When your eyes met his across the room, there was no mistaking the spark that passed between you. You tilted your head, a small, knowing smile tugging at your lips, as if you were daring him to approach.

Daemon Targaryen was not a man to back down from a challenge.

He found you on the balcony later that night, gazing out over the city with a goblet of wine in hand. The soft light of the moon bathed you in silver, making you look almost otherworldly.

“You don’t strike me as someone who enjoys courtly nonsense,” he said, leaning casually against the stone railing beside you.

“It seems your words are right, my prince,” you replied, your tone playful but laced with a hint of sarcasm.

He smirked. “I take it you’ve heard of me, then.”

You took a sip of your wine, your gaze never leaving his. “Prince Daemon Targaryen. The Rogue Prince. The man who courts scandal as if it’s a lover. Yes, I’ve heard of you.”

“And yet, here you are,” he said, stepping closer. “Talking to me alone in the dark. Does that make you foolish or brave?”

You smiled, a slow, wicked thing that sent a thrill through him. “Neither,” you said. “It makes me your match.”

From that night on, the two of you were inseparable, drawn to each other like moths to a flame. You matched him step for step, word for word, your boldness rivaling his own. Together, you were unstoppable—a storm that swept through the court, leaving chaos and whispered scandals in your wake.

The first time Daemon kissed you, it was in the shadow of the Dragonpit. You had just returned from a ride on your horse —a gift from your homeland—and your hair was wild from the wind, your cheeks flushed with exhilaration.

“You ride like a madwoman,” he’d said, his voice full of admiration.

“And you love it,” you’d shot back, grinning.

He hadn’t been able to resist you. His lips crashed against yours, fierce and demanding, and you’d responded with equal fervor. Your hands tangled in his hair as you pressed yourself against him, your bodies alight with the fire that always burned between you.

The court was scandalized by your relationship. They called you his poison, his downfall.

“She’ll destroy you,” Viserys warned him one night, his tone weary. “She’s reckless, unpredictable. She’ll bring ruin to our house.”

Daemon had laughed, a sharp, humorless sound. “And what do you think I am, brother? A saint? We’re already ruined.”

But even as the whispers grew louder, you and Daemon only grew bolder. You flaunted your love openly, daring anyone to challenge you. Together, you were a force of nature—wild, untamed, and utterly intoxicating.

There was a night, late in the summer, when you and Daemon found yourselves alone in the gardens of the Red Keep. The air was warm, heavy with the scent of blooming flowers, and the stars glittered like shards of glass in the dark sky.

You sat on a stone bench, your legs draped lazily over his lap, as you sipped from a shared bottle of wine.

“Do you ever wonder,” you said, your voice soft, “if we’re too much for this world?”

Daemon tilted his head, studying you with those piercing violet eyes. “Too much?” he repeated. “Never. The world just isn’t enough for us.”

You laughed, a rich, melodic sound that made his chest tighten. “You always know how to flatter me, don’t you?”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear. “It’s not flattery if it’s true.”

You turned to face him, your expression suddenly serious. “Promise me something, Daemon,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Anything,” he said, and he meant it.

“No matter what happens, no matter what they say or do, promise me you’ll never let them break us.”

His hand cupped your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “I swear it,” he said. “On my blood, my fire, my very soul—I’ll never let you go.”

You were his venom, and he was your fire.

[lettalady]

Word prompt: birthday

oooh another for the Word Prompt Challenge! [ Send me a word (or phrase) and I'll write a story ]

Let's see what stirs. We've seen an Unsettled birthday, as well as something from the world of bodyguard!Tom. Hmm what other birthdays have we seen? Oh yes, we got to see our girl's birthday in YOJA (C37/38). There's not one but two very eventful birthdays that happen in Kept but I've not yet started posting that story from the Art of Villainy world so...

Why did LJH just kick me in the shins?

You round the countertop to see if changing the angle of approach will make any bit of difference. It doesn’t. Frustration fires out of you as you route back to the original starting point and carry on trying to light the many many many candles you’ve stuck into the top of the cake. 

“Ow. Ow. Oh!” You curse as the heat from some of the ones you’re having to reach over kisses the underside of your forearm. Adjusting your reach only helps so much. You’re on a time constraint – some of Heida’s relatives have relayed the alert that they’ve seen Bucky on the approach. 

Nobody to blame here but yourself, admittedly, in choosing individual candles rather than simply picking out the three otherwise needed to indicate age. One – hundred – and – eight. 

Perhaps you should have practiced this rushed moment. You didn’t anticipate how long it would take to light them all. 

Only two thirds of the way through, Bucky’s key turns the door’s lock. 

Caught. “Um… Happy birthday?!” Red handed with a match burning quickly towards your fingertips, you pause to watch his reaction to finding a cake with candles partially aflame. 

Bucky’s initial wide-eyed surprise bleeds into amusement, that bright smile that melts you every time it lands surfacing as he laughs, “You trying to set the building on fire? Guess I got home just in time.” 

The first of the candles you’d lit are burning all too quickly for you to get the whole cake alight on your own. Even as he moves further into the apartment, heading towards your position in the kitchen, you drop the depleted match and pick up another to light off one of the burning candles, “Hang on, hang on. Wait wait. Let me light them before you make a wish.” 

“Yes ma’am.” His laughter is infectious – and he doesn’t stand around waiting. He plucks one of the unlit candles from the top of the cake and starts helping with the process. 

As soon as the cake is fully alight, the first of the candles nearly drips of wax, he leans to blow and extinguish the lot. No songs for Bucky, then. Or perhaps he’s heard too many renditions today to care for another. 

He also doesn’t seem intent on cutting and trying any of the cake. “Now that the fire’s out….” 

He muffles any response you might have to his teasing by scooping you to him to receive a proper welcome home. Yes. Very good thing that the candles are no longer burning rapidly towards the icing atop the cake. You don’t want cake either after he’s through kissing you. 

“Gift time.” 

Your brain is buzzing, whole body alight with desires that have little to do with watching him unwrap anything and everything to do with climbing him and seeing where he’ll land the pair of you. But he’s walking over to the sofa and pushing it forward, reaching behind it to hand you a box. “Wh– Bucky. You do remember that it’s your birthday.” 

Those blue eyes burn bright as he hands over the small package, “I know it. Open the box.” 

A peek under the lid illuminates his intentions. He’s got one present he means to unwrap on his birthday: you, wrapped in red lingerie. The silk ribbon tied into a bow across the chest. Crotchless panties. Ah. A gift for you that is actually a gift for him. “Mm. To try on now? Forget the cake?” 

“Yup. Forget the cake. Till later. Might want to lick icing from my girl at some point tonight, too.”

[hydralisk98]

Angora Politics Summary (WIP Draft #1)

"LIVELY-WISE CAMERA PERSPECTIVE PRESENT DAY" mostly around ~4523-4525 of this world mainline solar calendar.

Negative values in the calendar meaning prehistorical periods like neolithic, mesolithic, paleolithic, ice ages, cenozoic... back to the cosmogony / big bang period. Which aren't much of a vital focus into the main story I am about to tell. But as time wraps around and timewise links are abundant + intricate enough, you could go to learn about such if so desired.

~0001-1440 timeline section (bronze age)

Bronze scroll libraries + bookstores, chariots & cavalry warfare, amber + silk road trade routes, mummies, hardened clay soldier replicas, mausoleums, nomadic migrations, written songs & poems, oral mythos, first legal + trade documents...

1440-2400 timeline section (iron age)

Classical naval exploration, papyrus codices, first adoption of the alphabet, popularization of the written word amongst lower classes, rise of non-fiction essay literature, dawn of the worldwide Samoan trade network (road to Gold & metals)

2400-3080 timeline section (axial age)

Vellum books, rise of democratic structures, spread of some organized religions, development of philosophy and ethos,

3080-4096 timeline section (early "celtic" & later "gothic" ages)

Mass adoption of a Shoshoni alphabet across its continent, printing presses, "Panini"+"LambdaCalculus" grammar thesis, first query-based Mundaneum, diversification of religions, explicit microtonality on one end and implicit then loss of microtonality on another part of the central world...

4096-4408 timeline section (early modern age)

Emulates the early modern age we got for the most part, still got some subtle differences but nothing too drastically different or very unique yet, there are index card libraries, still many well-preserved bronze-age scrolls preservatories, research towers, enlightenment-era windmills, data-wise automata, proto-socialist assemblies, charter of human rights and other worldly trade and cultural exchanging period with all its colonial jazz and imperialistic mayhem.

4408-4800 timeline section (late modern age)

Shoshoni elections diverges from the OTL around (1908?) 1912, 1916 compared to OTL and the rest diverges more from there onwards (because that ~1908-1912 period is the core point of divergence that drives future planetary history into either of the three timelines of my storyline) to accommodate my preferences in either ethos direction (50+% = majority). Progress-majority: Theodora wins majority with the Progressives party in 1912, enhancing the progress variable much and swaying the 16^12 galaxy to the less long-term destructive direction of them all albeit with stronger luddite 21st century unrest and rebellions due to the quicker, alienating, speed of technological progression. Features improved yet alternate technologies & unique cultural media, such as peer-to-peer distributed networking, synthetic "servant agents / sapients" beings by 2000, data rental stores, morphological liberties, magickaly spiritual freedoms & incentives, three worldly-scale conflicts (WW1, WW2 about defeating Strasserism & continental nuclear war limited in effects to the global South during the early-middle seventies [1973-1975]), worldwide data processing GAI benevolent modules, Lisp symbolic programming linguistics, tribble-based computer words, diversification of lifestyles, just to name a few of such era's worth of innovations in this timeline. Liberty-majority: Tina wins majority with the Republicans party in 1912, enhancing the liberty variable much and swaying the 16^12 galaxy in a moderately autonomous direction. Features somewhat fewer of the above technological enhancements but as the progression was way less alienating yet still significant enough, it features the longest line of historical records and the best balance of diplomacy + nicer integration with both of the other radical timelines. Including better federation diplomatic ties up to a certain degree. Harmony-majority: Toria wins majority with the Preservationists party in 1912, enhancing the harmony variable much and swaying the 16^12 galaxy in a diplomatic federated manner. Slower technological progression compared to the two others but stronger spirituality / religions, meta-awareness and overall diplomatic ties with the rest of the galaxy very early on. Makes for a easier repeal of late-game crisis factions & nemesis attempts due to powerful cooperation and most inclusive integration of the curators' lore from this specific galactic history. (There is a implicit non-Majority weaker "Harmony" TL aka a OTL-esque timeline that is very VERY similar to our very own that I shall use as counter-example of what to emulate narratively, essentially one where they elect a Woodrow Wilson-like figure in a minority Democrats government in 1912 [~ 40D-30P-25R-5S] and the rest goes pretty much like in our timeline henceforth. It does mean that it the timeline that is the most damaged by the Nemesis event, possibly without the possibility of triggering event chain from the Curator and his Communion due to the galaxy being too dead / undead by then as the game may have been killed by then (due to Nemesis undead lichdom victory) or simply too inhospitable for any lifeforms to enjoy life enough there)

More about all that ethos singularity madness in a later article...

4800-5600 timeline section (early interstellar age) [Stellaris + CivBeyondEarth RisingTide playthroughs]

Earlygame (early space exploration, expansion and planetary colonization), Midgame crisis (Marauders, Great Khan, Gray Tempest, end-point to the CivBeyondEarth RisingTide playthrough lore), Lategame crisis (Pretoryn Scourge, Feral Pretoryn, Hunters, Contingency, Cybrex, Ancient Caretakers, Unbidden, Aberrant, Vehement...);

5600-~6400 (middle interstellar age)

Victory endscreen (5600), "Deluge" / heavily modded Nemesis crisis about galactic hegemony in necromantic manners BUT quite timewise preserving (~6000), its aftermath and the slow benevolent overlordship rise through the road to the Communion event chain (fully ends at the dawn of year 6400, much happens within the last few decades prior depending on galaxy diplomatic autonomy and development status to welcome the Curator communion and the ethereal estates he rules by)

6400-RedShift / GalacticalClusterConsolidation (late interstellar ages)

The Curator and his sapient kin does actually resides in this era to best administer the full set of three timelines, so they naturally converge around those late interstellar / galactic ages. Still timeless enough to navigate to wherever they need be but preferring not to distribute their full weight onto other timespans so they project into volunteer hosts and constructs if need may be. Essentially a timespan with enough infrastructure and capacity to do anything they so desire and best made to accommodate ethereal patrons and estates. Most of them stay here but some do migrate forth or back in time to fill a mission / quest of theirs.

Dying Universe / Degenerate Cosmos group of ages

Somehow we visit this group of ages in the following order through the story through a psychic lens. Still unsure when to put the Curator's avatar host biological body birth and life across the first three eras among these. But as their energetic sapient spirit does belong from a darker yet similarly nuanced alternate reality (the axis victory one I talked about every so often) It think that doesn't need to be specified and can be left to the observer's imagination. However the core value is to weave some nihilistic optimism & overall constructive attitudes to every agent present during the soul projection.

RedDwarves

Not yet

BlackHoles

Not yet

IronStars

Not yet

HeatDeath

Not yet

Boltmann Brains / Judgment

Not yet

HALT, WAIT and then JUMP back to cosmogony when the programmable space is fully processed.

[thecoffeelovingfreak]

don't ever wonder

Pairing: Akiko Yosano x gn!Reader

Writing Genre: drabble

Genre(s): romance

Word count: 611

Warnings: alcohol & its consumption, me trying to write a first date having never been on a date before

Notes: I've been wanting to write a fic w/Yosano, and I figured that this was the perfect opportunity! And yes, this fic is titled after Ascension by Maxwell ;)

Bouquet Meaning: red roses - love & romance; sunflowers - adoration, loyalty, hope, peace; monarch butterfly - rebirth/starting something new

for the 'New Beginnings' collab by @venexus

Read it on ao3!

~~~

The crisp, natural scent of the bouquet in your hands momentarily eased your nerves as you thanked and paid the florist. Red roses and sunflowers formed the delicate shape of heart, and a bright monarch butterfly rested on top.

Is this too forward? No, Yosano is direct, if anything this is perfect… right?

You snuck another sniff from the bouquet to quell your pestering anxiety. The hum of the car’s engine was soon overshadowed by a soft song playing on the radio as you drove along the familiar route to your coworker’s apartment.

—

The gentle knock you rapped on Yosano’s door echoed the beating of your heart as she opened it. An off-the-shoulder dress crafted in red silk was the first thing to greet your vision – a large slit over her right leg drew your attention next. By far the most beautiful, however, was her dazzling smile encased in red. Her dark hair held a light curl, and her stunning magenta eyes were decorated with small, black wings.

“You look enchanting tonight, Akiko.”

“Thank you, Y/n.”

“I have a gift for you.”

Revealing the bouquet from its hiding place behind your back, you watched excitement bloom in Yosano’s eyes.

“Oh, wow, I love flowers!”

"I see a new arrangement on your desk every week, and I figured that you might."

"So, you've been watching me?" she queried, setting the bouquet down on her entry table.

"How could I not?" you replied, lifting up your hand for her to take as she finished locking the door.

"You're quite the charmer this evening, Y/n." she spoke, slipping her fingers through yours.

"Think of it as your effect on me." you smiled coyly, leading her to the car.

—

The dim light from glittering chandeliers highlighted Yosano’s golden jewelry – your eyes transfixed by her graceful movements as she finished her choko of sake. Her eyes twinkled as her fuchsine gaze fell over your features. Slender fingers traced over yours as she tilted her head, seemingly analyzing the emotions in your eyes. She hummed with a light chuckle, appearing to be both pleased and amused at what she found.

The waiter brought the check a moment later, and you slid your card in between the leather. Together you finished the tokkuri, feeling the hot sake warm up your body as it went down. The waiter brought back your check and card, and you thanked him before signing it.

Standing up, you grasped Yosano's hand and left the classy establishment.

"Thank you for the lovely dinner." she spoke.

"You're welcome, but the night's not over yet." you voiced with slight mischief.

She looked at you with curiosity and miniscule suspicion as you led her down the street, nearing a melodious park.

The trees were wrapped in little glittering lights, and bright delphiniums grew from the soil with diverse shades of snapdragons and primroses. A small orchestra stood off to the side of the cobblestone center – a smooth, slow, and romantic composition blossoming from their instruments.

"Did you do this?" she asked, still observing the dazzled environment.

"Of course! Why else would I have left the office early?" you replied.

"This is beautiful, Y/n, thank you." she smiled sincerely.

"It's my pleasure." you said softly, taking her right hand in yours, as her left slid to your shoulder, and your right moved to her hip.

Together you swayed gently, basking in comfort and an ever-growing feeling of love – one that had been blooming since you first met five years ago. This chilled night under the stars would become the first of many with Yosano, and mark the beginning of the next chapter in your lives.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

taglist: @kunikinnie @valonava @nakaharaswife @chuuyasboots @livingforteaandorange @exo-lllllll @hnnnnnnnm

[babubabibambam]

Can you write NSFW headcanons for Carla Tsukinami with human s/o? ^^

Oops sorry it’s late!! Been quite busy and my hand was stung by a hornet on both sides so I wasn’t really in the shape to use em. Hopefully this one’s good!! I haven’t really gone through his routes but this is just some assumptions based on his special cds and songs!!!

Carla Tsukinami HCs(nsfw)

• This man is very into power play. He wants to have power over every single thing that happens during the intercourse.

•Meaning he’s into orgasm control and breath-play. Also into bondage, but not those silly handcuffs. The man will tie you up himself with different types of ropes depending on his mood.

•If you were a good girl and he was in the mood to reward you, he’ll pull out the softest silk one he has, be a brat then expect the rough thick ones or maybe even chains.

•Man praises and degrades at the same time. “That’s my pretty little whore.”

• “You can handle it my obedient little slut, doing so well.”

•Though he mostly degrades you, “Shut up and take it bitch.”

• “I barely touched you and you’re already this wet? Tch when did you become such a slutty bitch.”

•Master/Sir kink. Call him anything else and expect to be punished.

•This man gives hard Punishments, whipping, edging, maybe even knife-play where he has a knife at your throat while he plays with your body. Twitch once and the cold metal WILL pierce your skin.

•Breeding Breeding Breeding. Gotta continue his lineage y’know?

•Sometimes when he’s too into it and wants to breed you, he’ll accidentally turn into his wolf form, after knotting into you he realizes what he had done and baby gets all embarrassed.

•That’s the only time where he’ll have the subby vibes. Just pure blushing from embarrassment, if you want to, this is the part where you could dom him. Especially if he’s in his wolf-form, play with his ears and he’ll melt into a put right then and there. Have your fun with your subby Carla, cuz tomorrow you’ll be taught to stay in your place.

•The man’s somewhat cocky, he isn’t really the type to easily get jealous of any other person, why should he? He’s already perfect. Though he does make it known that you belong to him. In subtle ways of course. He’ll have a fashionable choker for you that says “Carla”. Which everyone would think was some cute accessory.

•He has a hate love relationship with brats, he hates it when they disobey him, but also loves to see them in tears begging and pleading to him. Loves to discipline them.

•Finds it adorable when you wear his clothes cuz you miss his smell, will fuck you right then and there in his clothes saying ‘This is a better way to leave my smell on you.’

•Is quiet during sex, occasionally releases the deepest and softest moans and grunts that makes you clench around him so hard. Leading him to release a louder moan.

•Loves loves loves dressing you up in pretty clothes just to tear it apart when he takes you.

•Isn’t really into having sex outside the bedroom, but doesn’t mean that he won’t.

•Rarely gives you orals, only does so when he wants to reward you for being a good girl for him, or when he’s edging you. He also doesn’t really like receiving them. Refuses to cum anywhere else that’s not your little cunt. “It’s a waste of my cum.” He’d say with a blank face.

•This man also says the sexiest thing without even caring. Has turned you on by accident so, many, times.

•Gets pissed off when you talk to the Sakamakis or the Mukamis. Will “cleanse” you multiple times and it WILL eventually lead to the two of you fucking.

[bastart13]

I’ve had a lot of fun recently coming with with female mercenary characters for TF2. I really liked where the concept art was going with making them all individual characters rather than simply “if the characters were women”

The design style is fantastic for distinct simplicity so I tried limiting myself to basic colours and shapes to make these

and I’m pretty confident they pass the silhouette test!

Character names/bios under the cut!

Heavy

Name: Marie Jarrett

Age: Mid 30s-40s

Height: 6’5

Nationality: American (Hawai’i)

Bio: Raised in Hawai’i, growing up she developed more and more drastic measures to fend off the tourists swarming her home. Land mines, electric gates, guard dogs, none could stop them for long until she picked up her trusty minigun to send her message. But even still, she hears the click of cameras in the night.

Eventually, she left her home to explore the world. Enthralled with the image of seeing different wonders across different countries, she’s always disappointed. She’s travelled every continent and still finds nothing that lives up to her expectations. No place, no person. She’s outgoing and open to new experiences, only she usually hates them.

Mercenary life is a great opportunity to earn money, see sights, meet new people and kill them after they don’t meet your expectations. She hates New Mexico and takes every opportunity to destroy the buildings and insult her employer’s tastes. She finds some people she tolerates within the mercenaries as she hasn’t yet visited where they live. However much she hides it, she has a deep, instinctual fear of the Engineer.

  Soldier

Name: Linda Smith

Age: Early 40s

Height: 5’10

Nationality: Canadian

Bio: Canada’s perfect woman… or so she claims. The star of war propaganda posters and clearly decided for the role because of her great tactical assets. She’s there to motivate people into the fight. To spread the glory of Canada and inspire her allies. She believes she has higher orders than anyone else she’s working for (ignoring the fact she hasn’t heard from them for a good few years) and is determined to follow them to the letter. She may have lost the letter but she remembers it good enough.

She represents the ideals of Canada: polite, friendly, apologetic, and pacifistic. None of these are contradicted by how she throws around rockets. That’s not what Canada means. She’s superior to everyone around her and graciously educates them on how to improve through example. She loves her French and British allies and will kindly tell the Americans how to be better.

She’s motivating and actually fairly competent, it’s just that competency might be misdirected. She’s damn good at rocket jumping, shooting her shotgun, and supporting her team, it’s just that you really need to get it in her head when she’s meant to be doing it.

Scout

Name: Patricia “Pat” Herald

Age: 50s-60s

Height: 5’4

Nationality: English

Bio: In her years, Patricia has learnt fear… and she’s learnt to laugh in its face. She wakes up at the crack of dawn, ready to leave at the drop of a hat, boots polished and laced the night before. Her years have taught her that with a gun and Jeremy by her side, she can survive!

The postal route of Appleby-in-Westmorland.

She’s been chased by geese, dogs, cows, elderly ladies, and when her postal route had her delivering post during the war, she developed a taste for blood. Nothing will stop her from delivering her post on time. Every day before 6am, every postbox will have their letters and parcels. One chucked across barbed wire, another house jumped over a river, another house miles into the country with dogs on her heels, she WILL get there and she’ll get there FAST.

But after a couple of decades, she needs a change of scenery, and the Gravels wars are just the holiday she’s needed. With her trusty black and white cat by her side (ignoring the yowling and scratches) she reckons it’ll be great time to enjoy herself.

Quotes: “Oh, hello, Human Jeremy.”

“Bloody fucking Ethel! Building her house out in the country… surrounded by bloody hills and rivers!”

Pyro

Name: Nikephoros Papadopoulos

Age: Late 20s

Height: 5’11

Nationality: Greek

Bio: Survival of the fittest. Nature gives and nature taketh away. If you’re not prepared for that, well, Pyro is more than happy to teach you the lesson. They embody the old values of the Greek gods: f*ck or fire. She indulges her every whim and unfortunately for the people around her it often involves arson.

One year for the Olympic games, she was given the noble title of torchbearer. On complete coincidence, the Olympics shifted to primarily water sports. Underwater sprints became the hot new trend!

She’s merry and chatty, never missing the opportunity to talk to other people about herself and her world view. She can’t wait to spread her gospel to help other people improve themselves (though she always gets a laugh out of those who go out screaming in the flames). She can’t help it if she has a sadistic side.

Engineer

Name: Mikawo Kojima

Age: Early 20s

Height: 5’0

Nationality: Japanese

Bio: Japan’s early-rising industrial revolutions in technology are best exemplified in Mikawo, a young upstart determined to rise to the top, learning everything she can and building the best of the best. Unfortunately, she’s never been the most creative but when you happen upon other people’s blueprints and happen to construct them first, what does it matter who came up with the “concept”?

At first, she appears to be every bit the quiet and demure young woman people expect, only when silk hides steel, that steel is a massive automatic sentry gun. She’s motivated by a distinct contempt for the people who get in her way. Especially those who try to be better than her. She enjoys the flexibility of English, especially the cusses, and she has no reservations about swearing up a storm, even if she still refuses to give a straight rejection, preferring instead to give a small “I’ll think about it.”

Quotes: “This GUN is fair use on your head!”

Demo

Name: Qingzhao Zeng

Age: Late 40s

Height: 5’3

Nationality: Chinese

Bio: The Zeng family has a long-standing family trade in demolitions and explosives, traced down the line all the way to the Song dynasty. Luckily, Qingzhao has sisters so, you know, it’s not all that important. She doesn’t even have to stop smoking and drinking. She hasn’t blown herself up (that much) so clearly, it’s working. Precision is for other people to worry about. She’s apathetic to a T, having seen everything. Measurements come from the heart. A pinch of gunpowder there, a splash of paint there.

Her family has a deep-seated rivalry with the DeGroots. Long ago in ancient China, a Zeng matriarch woke up in a cold sweat, a message from the stars to let them know of their Scottish rivals. Due to being a continent away from each other, the families have actually met each other only a handful of times, but the hatred needs to be kept up because, what if?

Turns out, Qingzhao has met Tavish even before finding employment under the Mann brothers. One drunken night, the two of them had a short, whirlwind friendship, sharing secrets and declaring each other to be their best friends. Luckily for them, they both forgot the night, merrily hating each other as tradition dictates. However, headaches and flashes of this terrible night haunt them both. Could they really get over centuries of hate and become friends?

Absolutely not.

Sniper

Name: Ansa Aaltonen

Age: 27

Height: 6’2

Nationality: Finnish

Bio: Snow. Sugar. Cocaine.  Her life is run by many white powders. Ansa is a professional sniper, with a sharp eye and a steady hand… when she isn’t also high as a kite, lost in the snowy wilderness of Finland and screeching to the sky. When you’re up in the dark and cold, you need something to give you a little pep in your step. It just so happens Ansa liked having a bit more pep than most.

She’s there for a THRILL. There’s nothing better to get your heart pumping at 200 beats per second than a good headshot, embracing the chill, and a hit of sugar. She no longer feels the cold or heat or even pain, shrugging it off until she collapses. It just makes her feel alive. She’s efficient, fast, and determined to get her kicks.

She has an unusual taste, living off fermented fish and tree bark. To most people around the Finnish wilderness, she’s nothing more than an urban legend, but she’s very real and she’s looking for some excitement, happily found in employment in the Gravel wars.

Spy

Name: Yvonne Pleshette [Real name N/A]

Age: 30s

Height: 5’8

Nationality: American (California)

Bio: The silver screen calls to his woman and she’s happy to answer. She trains herself to act in every possible role she can, having a wide range of accents, body languages, and backstories. To truly test herself, she gave up her identity long ago. Lately she’s been going by the name “Yvonne.”

The world of Hollywood is cutthroat and full of backstabbers so she learnt to cut throats and stab backs. While some people tell her the terms are metaphorical, nothing else has given her more roles. Living the mercenary life is simply gathering research for her roles (and earning some much-needed money in the process).

She presents herself as a classic film star, despite being a minor name at best, mostly because she’s always changing it. She has high standards but a cheapskate personality. She’s a bit of a bitch, happily criticising others, especially if they’re working with her. What can she say? She’s a diva.

[Slutshames other spy]

Quotes: “Ugh, actors these days, they know nothing about getting into character. They still have names.”

“’AHHHHH—’ Wait, no. Once more from the top. Scream in agony.”

Medic

Name: Susan Monks

Age: 30-40s

Height: 5’7

Nationality: American (New Jersey)

Bio: The American Healthcare system. Is there a more glorious sight? The exploitation of pain. The money. The debt. The fear it strikes into the entire population it’s designed to help. To Susan, there’s nothing better. She squeezes every last drop from the people she helps, working on a purely transactional lifestyle. She’ll never help someone unless she has all of their insurance information and the payment secure in her bank, and god forbid she ever accept help. It’s not like she can afford her own prices.

She’s very self-aware of her own corruption and proud of it, though she refuses to be exploited in the same way, suspicious of anything “free” but also doing her best not to pay for anything.

That said, she doesn’t much care for how good a job she does. In her eyes, asking for surgery is one thing. Asking for successful surgery is another. She has a variety of skills in both cosmetic and military medicine. She just wishes the license board would stop sending her “malpractice” letters. Ugh, stick to your own business. “Disappearing” all their messengers is becoming a pain.

Quotes: “Why get someone else to do something for you when you can scrounge a way to do it yourself?”

[hpalways]

Broken Petals || Kazuha

Note: This is a hanahaki disease Kazuha oneshot! So heads up, angst is waiting hehe

Some days, he could hear it, crawling right out of him. Other days, it would be serene as the rippling waters below him. It usually altered between the two, distorting his reality for a few while the wind tickled his ears and the trees warned him of the inevitable. He was connected with the outside world, allowing them to guide him on all aspects of his life, because he longed for freedom. But this one very thing, he shrunk away from their touch, too stubborn to rescind the very thing that kept him going.

His eyes trailed to the [h/c] locks that furled with the breeze, to the gentle smile that was locked on your lips as you pulled at the wagon through the fields. Being the small townsperson you were, you worked in the fields of Inazuma daily until you had nothing left to lose. It was a difficult life, but most had no other choice, shouldering burdens to carry a family back home. Your mother sick and your brother too young, you were the one to take care of everyone. 

But deep inside, he sensed something more from you. It was a longing of freedom, just as he did. Each time he approached you, he could hear relief in your breath -- relief from the harsh labor that always came to haunt. 

"Do you need help?" he asked quietly, extending a hand to the handle of the wagon you lugged. 

You shook your head, gratefully smiling nonetheless. "You know it's always going to be a no. Besides, I'm almost done anyway. Instead, why don't you tell me a poem like you do sometimes? That, in itself, helps me a lot."

Pondering for a second, he watched your figure for a silent moment, red hues drinking you in. That was what he always loved about you. You were so selfless, so graceful, and so beautiful. You didn't need to be a noble to show off such attributes to everyone -- you didn't need to wear silky robes to become the person everyone looked up to. Nothing you did was ever taken for granted, because you lived your life with a smile, despite never being able to achieve your true dream. 

In the dark shed, he realized how tight spaced it was. Cheeks glowing warmly to be in close proximity to you, he stayed on the side to see you shoving the large wagon back. He dug his heels into the cool dirt when you turned to him, wiping sweat off your forehead happily. "No poem today? Aw, that's too bad." Stepping up to the samurai, you pat his cheek in a friendly manner. "Your presence was enough, so that's okay. Oh... I shouldn't dirty you in my hands. I'm sorry about that." Just as you were retracting your hand, he instinctively latched his fingers onto your arm to stop you. [e/c] irises widened momentarily, bewilderment coloring your features. 

There was nothing romantic about this -- not at all rosy like the poems he made up with his thoughts on you. He let out a sigh and released your arm. "My apologies," he whispered, stalking right out of the shed before you could utter a word. "I need to get going now."

His trek back to his home was a quick one, with stealthy footsteps from all his training as a samurai. The sun was setting warmly, casting shades of orange and pinks across the skies in an ombre fashion. 

Though each step was quick, the heavier it got as it went on. 

He thought about the Vision Hunt Decree and how he would have to escape from Inazuma soon. No matter what, he couldn't stay here, not when all his aspirations were kept in his vision. After what his dear friend went through to fight against the Decree, Kazuha could never sit back and allow the officials to rob of him. 

If he were to leave Inazuma, then there was one thing he wanted to do, to wrap things up and cut clean ties.

Arriving at his home, he walked into the cold building. Just before he could go in deeper, an unfathomable pain spread through his torso. Releasing a gasp, he crumbled to the floor, clenching his stomach and curling up into a ball. Salty tears clung to the corner of his eyes, blurring his vision and setting the world on fire. He was burning along it, fireworks going off internally, trickling red, red, and more red, that soon grew black. 

His nails curled into the wood planked floors while he whimpered, the agony becoming unbearable. Getting into a fitful cough, every sound he let out wrenched at his soul, tearing it into pieces. They took their time, shoving an arm down his esophagus and cackling in joy at his suffering. 

One last cough stopped the pain. Something flew out of his mouth, daintily spinning in the air like a lone ballerina. It was a petal, coated in thick blood at the edges.

Another one. 

Numbly staring at the sight, he thought that it looked beautiful. It was almost as beautiful as you, a soft texture to its surface, yet stronger around the edges. It was almost as beautiful as you, but nothing could ever match your beauty. 

He was going to endure this. For you.

The next day, he decided he had to rip the band-aid off. Time was less on his side by the day and soon he would have to leave. 

Fortunately, today you had a day off, so you invited Kazuha out to stroll around the paths of Inazuma. Of course, he agreed to it, knowing that this was the opportunity he was waiting. 

The two of you aimlessly wandered within the stretching paths, taking in the purple petals that sat prettily among branches and listening to the song of noisy birds. How stunning it was today, causing the corners of your mouth to lift up in sheer excitement. Your eyes lapped it up like a curious child running through the fields during free time, observing every little thing that failed to be inspected as a farmer. Staring at you, his heart squeezed. There was nothing more he wanted than to be by your side. 

"The Vision Hunt Decree is growing stronger by the day," you suddenly brought up, sorrow taking over your usual face. "You're leaving, aren't you, Kazuha? I know how precious that vision is to you."

But you're just as precious to me, he wished to say. "Indeed," he said instead, glancing up to the wispy clouds. "I am being called to leave. I don't believe it will be too hard to sneak out of here."

Your eyes watered and you opened your arms to wrap him into a hug. Skin brushed silk and your fingers clenched tightly to his back, trembling in sadness. Your head leaned into his shoulder, breathing him in. He let out a breath in surprise, heart pounding at your warmth, your skin, your touch. "I will miss you so much. I will miss your poems and your comforting voice and the time we spent fooling around like nobodies."

That was when he came to a realization. He was selfish for holding onto you, for even thinking that you would come with him when so many responsibilities held you down. Your situation and his were different, leading you two onto separate routes, never to be met again. 

He didn't want to let you go. It was driving him insane. It was driving him so insane a hand plunge into his chest. 

"Sometimes I yearn for more than what I have... more than what I deserve," he muttered, pulling away from you and putting a gap to the distance from the light of his life. 

"I do too," you agreed, wiping your tears with the back of your hand. "Come visit me when the Decree is over, okay? Promise me."

How could he give you false hope like that? Even if the Decree were to be lifted, how could he ever dare face you again after such heartbreak? He knew you didn't love him the way he did you, but he chose to stay ignorant about it. And now... because he came to terms with it, it stung like hell just to be by your side. "I promise," he lied, the words slipping from his lips like slippery honey running down. Too sticky to hold on. And too sweet to ever be true. 

"I love you, Kazuha," you murmured, planting a kiss on light colored locks, the action erupting goosebumps all over his body.

Those were the words he dreamt of hearing from you. He cried because of those dreams, but he cried even more because the meaning behind them were not the kind he sought. 

Soon enough, you left, your back turned on him and growing smaller in the distance. He watched you without ever taking his eyes off of you, feeling the same pain burst into his system. He continued to keep his eyes on you when he crashed onto the ground, wheezing in raspy breath. A waterfall of tears slid down his cheeks, combining into one at the bottom of his chin, his features contorted from torment. 

He would endure this for you. Always. 

A kick to the gut sent him reeling and he doubled over, hugging himself as he coughed, over and over again. A petal flew out... and then another...

A flurry of petals escaped his mouth, sprinkling the sky of petals. This was more than what he would normally get. 

Coughing turned into hacking, succumbing him into the earth. He was being suffocated, suffocated by a love that was never his to begin with. With one last cough -- a clean petal rested on the side of his cheek, representing you. Fluttering his eyes shut, he decided that he would endure this, even death, for you. 

[riveramorylunar]

Lifetime

Pairings: Dr. Xendalia x Reader

Warnings ⚠️: Death, Fighting, Blasters, Severe Wound, a slug named Baron Von Slugenstein, Based on the song Lifetime by Three Days Grace

Nicknames: Sweetheart, Sweet girl, Love & Darling girl

Word Count: 2,107

When I first met her she was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She didn't notice me because I was watching from afar. Her name was Dr. Xendalia is one of the top scientists in the galaxy. She had a pet slug that was always resting against her shoulders. She had the most striking Emerald green eyes I have seen and the most beautiful red hair that was always in a messy French braid which went into two smaller ones, that just went above her chest. Her skin was fair like silk. "HEY YOU WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE" I heard someone shout and I looked over to see a bounty hunter and a female soldier rushing towards me. My eyes widened in shock and I started running.

I ran past her and felt her emerald green eyes staring in the back of my head. As I was running I was pulled into the alleyway. I looked up to see Nav looking down at me with a questioning look. We watched as the hunter and soldiers ran past the alley. "Y/N you know you're not allowed to be seen you could have been caught" he said stepping away and I just rolled my eyes before huffing. "You weren't spying on her again were you" he said and I just folded my arms not answering.

"Come on let's get back to the others" he said and he walked off. I followed him towards the dockings until we came upon a ship. He typed in the code and we watched as the latch opened. "Where the hell have you two been" Atlas said and I just walked right past him as I picked comet up. "She was watching that scientist again" I heard Nav say before he scoffed. "Y/N you know she's dangerous" I heard Orion say and I just rolled my eyes. "Don't roll your eyes at me young lady" I heard him growl out and I lifted my head up to look at him. "I can do whatever I want you're not the boss of me" I said back and I watched him stiffen before he took a step towards me. "I'm technically your legal guardian so yes I am the boss of you" he shouted and I tightened my grip on comet. "YOU'LL NEVER BE" I shouted before I ran off the ship as I heard them all yelling after me.

I ran into an alley and slid down against the metal wall as I hugged comet tightly. I looked down at him to see his ears down while he frowned. I just smiled softly before petting his head making him purr. I buried my head into his and he started purring like crazy making me smile.

As I sat there on the ground for awhile I felt someone's presence beside me. I lifted my head to see her leaning against the wall right next to me. I scooted over shocked as she looked down at me. "Why are you crying" she said before looking away and looking up at the night sky. "Why do you want to know" I shot back and I saw her lips turn up into that devious smirk of hers making my face flush red. "Because I want to know is that so wrong to ask someone if they're doing okay" she said looking down with a glint of mischief in her eyes meaning she was teasing me.

I just frowned at her and she sighed before pushing herself off the wall. "Come on I wanna show you something" she said and I just looked up at her. "But you don't even know me why are you being so nice" I asked and she didn't answer. She bent down and grabbed my hand pulling me up and onto my feet. She wrapped her big hand around my small one and my face was beat red. She peaked out of the alleyway making sure no one was around before she walked out leading me out. "Where are you taking me" I said and she looked over her shoulder before she smiled. "It's a surprise" she said as we took secret routes left and right to avoid bounty hunters and soldiers. She was probably the only one who knew about these routes. We took a turn into an alleyway to avoid a group of bounty hunters. I looked over to see her kneeling down when she let go of my hand. She opened a hatch and looked up at me before holding her hand out. "Is this where you're going to kill me" I said and she just raised an eyebrow before laughing. "Just trust me alright" she said and I slowly nodded before grabbing her hand again.

We ended up in an abandoned train station. "How much farther" I asked and she grabbed my hand again leading me towards a train cart. We hopped on and she told me to sit down. I watched as she turned on the train cart and it started moving. I hugged comet tightly. "So Y/N why were you crying in an alleyway" I heard her say and my head shot up. "How did you know my name" I said and she looked over her shoulder before smirking. She walked over to me and leaned down putting her pointer finger under my chin. She tilted me head up so I was looking directly at her face. I saw her famous smirk plastered on her causing my face to flush. "Hmmm sweetheart I've been watching you for a long time now you just haven't noticed it, so of course I know what your name is" she said before chuckling and stepping away from me.

After what felt like forever the train cart stopped. "Are we here" I said and she shook her head no. "This is just the fastest way to get there" she said as we walked out of the cart. She took my hand in hers again and I felt a jolt of electricity making me shiver. We had walked a few minutes until we came up to the end of the tunnel. It was night time now and as we continued to walk I saw a clearing. "Well here it is" she said as she stopped. I looked around and gasped at how beautiful the place was. "I never knew this was here" I breathed out as I let go of her hand to walk farther into the open field. "No one does except me and now you I hope you can keep it a secret" I heard her say and I turned around before smiling softly. "Of course and thank you for bringing me here" I said and she just smiled before walking up to me. "Turn around" she said and I slowly turned around. I felt her smooth hands on my shoulders and her breath against my ear. "Now look up" she said and I tilted my head up to look at the sky right as a shooting star passed. "Wow" I breathed out and heard her chuckle softly.

The place was absolutely beautiful I didn't know fireflies were still alive until now. I was looking up at the night sky as shooting stars kept flying in the sky. Xendalia was sitting right next to me while petting her slug Baron Von Slugenstein. I was starting to get tired so I rested my head on her shoulder.

As my eyes closed I felt her lips press against the top of my head. "Sweet dreams my darling girl" I heard her whisper softly before I slipped into a deep sleep.

As the weeks passed we would always go to the spot and watch the shooting stars pass. My team always asked where I go but I just ignored them. I was sitting in my room petting Comet while I texted Xendalia. "Y/N get out here we have a mission" I heard Atlas say over the speakers and I huffed before throwing my phone on the bed. I walked out of my room to see everyone in the deck waiting. "What's this mission I was busy" I said and Orion walked up to me. "I don't care if you were busy you are going on this mission whether you like it or not" he said and I just rolled my eyes.

We arrived at a warehouse after Nav told us there was a shipment of illegal weapons coming in. We snuck into the warehouse and I tightened my grip around my blaster as we hid behind two shelves stocked with stuff I don't even know. Before I could do anything I heard a blaster go off and a scream. Wait that sounded like Xendalia I thought and I jumped from behind the shelves to see Xendalia on the ground holding her stomach. I turned to look at my crew and they were already looking at me. "WHY THE HELL DID YOU SHOT HER" I shouted as I rushed over to her. I fell down beside her after I dropped my blaster to the ground. I helped her up and leaned her against the wall. "X just hang in there just hang in please" I said and she tilted her head back before squeezing her eyes shut.

I was kneeling beside her as my hands shook. Blood was all over my clothes as well as my hands. Her shirt was covered in her blood as she leaned against the warehouse wall. "Y/N why are you helping her she's the bad guy" I heard Jaxon say and I just ignored him as I pressed my hands on Xendalia's wound causing her to hiss out as she grabbed my wrist squeezing it really hard. "Y-" before Atlas could speak I cut him off. "BECAUSE I LOVE HER DAMNIT" I shouted and everything went quiet instantly. "Y/N" I heard Xendalia say softly and I looked up to see her smiling sweetly before she put her hand on my cheek. I leaned into the touch as I closed my eyes. "I love you too my sweet girl" I heard her say and I opened my eyes to see only love in her eyes no pain or anything just pure love and adoration. I threw my arms around her and buried my head in her neck as tears spilled down my face. I pulled away and she grabbed my face pulling me into a passionate and loving kiss. I kissed her back and we pulled away after a couple minutes for air. I rested my forehead against her and she smiled softly. "Stay with me" she said and I immediately nodded my head. "I'll always stay with you" I whispered out and she smiled before laughing softly. "Promise me something Love" she said and I looked at her before nodding my head. "Take care of Baron Von Slugenstein" she said and I just laughed at the name causing her to smile lovingly. "I still don't know why you named him that" I said and she chuckled. "Promise me" she said and I nodded as tears continued to fall down my face. "I promise you X" I said and she pulled me into a passionate kiss again. "I love you so much my sweet girl" she whispered against my lips before she pulled away and rested her head against the wall. I was as the life in her slowly fade and I broke down into tears as I buried my head against her chest.

I had left my crew shortly after that and I took comet with me as well as Baron Von Slugenstein since I promised Xendalia I would take good care of him for her. I had met up with a Echobi to take his ship off of this planet that reminded me so much of her. "Thank you for letting me take one of your ships" I said and he just smiled before bowing his head. "It's my pleasure I hope you find your peace wherever you go" he said and I thanked him as I climbed aboard the ship. I sat in the pilot's chair and turned on the ship. "Are you ready Comet" I said and he jumped up and down as I petted Baron Von Slugenstein who was wrapped around my neck. As the ship lifted up off the ground I looked over to see a picture of me and Xendalia smiling while we hugged each other. "I'll always love you X no matter what" I whispered as the ship flew up into the sky and into space.

Which lovestruck character should I do next?

Taglist: @blckwidowsbf @inluvwithfictionalwomen

[rheawritessometimes]

In Bloom

{ Xiao x GN!Gardener!Reader }

{ Summary } Looking for flowers is more dangerous than it seems.

{ Warnings } Violence, Injury, Mention of Death, Not Even Proofread.

{ Notes } Reader runs on dumb luck and also is kind of like an ecologist or something. Reader is a bit of an airhead. This is probably the most serious fic I've written, with no jokes or additions stricken out. But yeah I just typed this out and didn't even read it over, so if it's bad... Just know this is just a little something while I work on longer garbage. Masterlist

{ Word Count } 2,112

Appealing to the Vigilant Yaksha was an easy, one could even say effortless, thing for you. You hadn't taken the almond tofu route as others before you had, instead, you left him some Qingxin flowers. These flowers did not come from the peaks of Huaguong Stone Forest nor the Mingyun Village, rather they were among the finest specimens you had grown in your garden. The translucent white petals were soft like velvet and entirely free from blemish.

Your small gift to the adeptus wasn't exactly intentional. In truth, you had left the flowers on the balcony of Wangshu Inn entirely by accident and when you returned to retrieve them they were nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a pale man with dark hair leaning over the balcony. When you halted your approach, he turned his head towards you, indicating he had heard your footsteps.

Striking golden eyes seemed to gaze straight through you, sending a chill down your spine. His expression was entirely neutral, you couldn't get even a hint as to what he was thinking. Nothing about his outward appearance screamed danger, but the ominous aura you sensed made you take a step back.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to disturb you," you squeaked out, sounding a lot less confident than you had intended. You take a step backward, but couldn't bring yourself to tear your eyes from him.

"Don't apologize. You're welcome to stay," he replied after a few beats of silence, his tone sounding strained for a reason you couldn't discern.

"Um, okay, thank you," you replied politely, feeling it would be too awkward to leave now. It felt to you as though you were now trapped here for a little while out of social obligation. You stepped out towards the railing, deciding to at least enjoy the view if you had to stay.

The man didn't look at you, but you couldn't help but take in his appearance. He was objectively good-looking with bright amber eyes, dark hair with teal highlights, and his stoic expression. His clothing wasn't outlandish, but it's not the type you would commonly see on the streets of Liyue.

It took a while for the dark mask resting against the man's hip to catch your attention, but once it did you felt like a fool. It was not common knowledge, however, the fact an adeptus resided at the Wangshu Inn was not exactly a secret. One which you were privy to. The mask was the most obvious indication of his status as an adeptus. Not just any adeptus, not that any of them were anything to look down upon, but one of the Yakshas. The last of the five Yakshas.

"Alatus," the name escapes your lips as a whisper before you can think to stop it. Immediately your eyes widen, but before you could issue an apology the man just sighs softly. It doesn't sound particularly angered, but rather weary.

"Xiao. My name is Xiao," he says without turning to look at you. That's all he says before vanishing in a cloud of black mist and falling feathers of anemo energy. The mist and feathers are both quick to dissipate, leaving you standing with your mouth hanging open.

After that encounter, it had become a regular occurrence, at least once weekly, for you to pick one of the finest flowers from your garden and bring it to Wangshu Inn to leave on the balcony, or give directly to Xiao should he show himself. Most often you brought him a Qingxin, but occasionally you would substitute other flowers as not to end up plucking every Qingxin you had grown. You never picked the very best flower, either. Even for an adeptus you couldn't bring yourself to pick the best examples, rather letting them grow in peace for your prolonged enjoyment.

It wasn't until the third time you had come to the inn with a flower for Xiao that he was waiting for you on the balcony. Seeing the yaksha there made you pause, heart skipping a beat in surprise. He turned from his place looking out across the landscape to see you, certainly not as surprised to see you as you were him.

The way he looked expectantly at the flower in your hand has you realizing you had been standing there frozen. You moved, extending the flower out to him in offering. He took it delicately from your hand, looking it over for a moment.

"Thank you," he said softly, so quiet you almost didn't hear it at all. You could only nod stiffly in response. He scoffed at you before turning around again to lean against the balcony railing.

Just as it had the first time you met the yaksha, it felt wrong to just leave. So, you decided to survey the landscape of Liyue with him in silence. After the first few minutes, the atmosphere became rather comfortable between the two of you. Still, by the time he disappeared in a cloud of black mist and anemo feathers, neither of you had spoken a word.

This morning you were out early in the morning to explore the wilds of Liyue. You were no adventurer, though. Your purpose was to analyze the populations of certain flora and fauna. These were trips you made often to various parts of Liyue, wishing to preserve the life of endangered species, and always alone. Bringing people along to the locations of such rare organisms, be it plant or animal, was a dangerous thing. In many instances, rare means valuable and there are those who would do anything for some Mora.

Today you found yourself in Dihua Marsh to check up on the Glaze Lily population. Based on your counts, the number hadn't fluctuated greatly since your last visit, there were even a few new blooms. This brought you great relief, Glaze Lilies seemed to be somewhat of a symbol of Liyue and it would sadden you to see their wild population disappear, even if they remained in Qingce Village and at the Yujing Terrace. It wouldn't be the same.

Once you had sung a few songs to the flowers, not worried about anyone hearing you in this rather secluded area, you made your way back to one of the main roads. The long walks back to the harbor always ended up with you lost deep in thought, which wasn't always a good thing. Lost deep in your own mind, you didn't notice the slow advance of a small group of Treasure Hoarders until it was too late.

There was no time to run away as they surrounded you, it was unlikely you could have outrun them anyways. Fortunately, it didn't take very long for the Treasure Hoarders to discover you had absolutely nothing of value on you, and while they may be thieves it wasn't often a Treasure Hoarder was a murderer. Of course, they had roughed you up a bit before ultimately leaving you alone. There was a nasty scrape on your cheek and you were sure you would be bruised in the morning, but you weren't seriously injured.

By the next day, your muscles ached and bruises had appeared in various places on your body, but the scrapes had stopped bleeding and it was nothing that would stop you from bringing your usual offering to Xiao. You spent some time perusing your garden, looking for the perfect gift. You settled on a Silk Flower, there was some worry in your mind that Xiao would dislike it because they did grow right outside of the Wangshu Inn, but you hope the exceptional fragrance and color of this specimen would gain his appreciation.

Mindful not to fiddle with the flower as to preserve its pristine state, you worried the whole walk to the inn. Even if the adeptus wasn't present, if he rejected the offering you felt you would know. Maybe you would find the flower sitting where you left it on your next visit, or maybe Verr Goldet would tell you about the silk flower she found laying on the balcony. Your heart clenched at the thought and you couldn't help but wonder when you had started seeking the yaksha's approval.

You hadn't even realized you arrived at the inn until you were stepping off the elevator, lost in thought again. Shaking your head, you thought it would be good if you started paying more attention. Getting ambushed by again was the last thing you wanted, the next time it could be worse than petty thieves.

Pushing the negative thoughts from your mind, you climbed the stairs to the balcony you so often visited. Your muscles ached in quiet protest, but the pain was mild. Peeking over the stairs, you spotted Xiao.

For the first time, he was already facing you, leaning with his back against the railing. You wondered if he had spotted you on your way to the Inn, offering him a polite smile as a silent greeting. You extended the Silk Flower to him once you stepped out onto the balcony.

"What happened to you?" Xiao asked immediately, tone stern. He took the flower from you without even sparing a glance down at it. Did he not like Silk Flowers?

"Oh, um, I just bumped into some Treasure Hoarders yesterday. Nothing serious," you answered after finally processing his question, bringing your hand up to the scrape on your cheek without thinking. His frown deepened with your response and the adeptus crossed his arms over your chest.

"You were hurt," he pointed out bluntly. You felt small under his hard stare.

"Oh, it's nothing, um, serious," you assured him with a nervous laugh. He only furrowed his brows at your response.

"If ever again you find yourself in any danger, call my name. Adeptus Xiao. I will be there when you call."

At his words, your cheeks heated up. Was this some sort of special treatment, or did he offer this to anyone? It felt wrong to receive such kindness from an adeptus if it was only for you.

"Promise," he pressed when you didn't answer.

"Okay, I will. If I'm ever in danger, I'll call you," you agreed meekly, feeling a great weight put upon you under his amber gaze. He huffed before disappearing in his usual manner, and it was impossible for you to tell if he was upset with you.

The next time you visited the inn, Xiao hadn't appeared. This wasn't unusual, but the worry that you had displeased him seeped into your bones. You tried to ignore this feeling, going out often to check on wildlife populations and spending extra time tending to your garden. Keeping busy was the best way to take your mind off your worries and stay productive.

A week after your meeting with the Vigilant Yaksha, you were back at Dihua Marsh checking on the Glaze Lilies. You were sitting in the middle of the lilies, singing softly to the patch of flowers when the sound of shouting reached your ears. Looking up, you noticed two hilichurls accompanied by a mitachurl with a stone shield who was charging your way.

There would be no time for you to get up and out of the way, so you closed your eyes and braced for the impact. You could only pray it wouldn't kill you, but even if it didn't you would probably be unable to escape death by the hilichurls soon after.

The impact never came, instead, a gust of wind blew past you and you wondered if the mitachurl had somehow run past you. When you opened your eyes, you saw Glaze Lily petals swirl into the air, dancing around the familiar figure of the Vigilant Yaksha. The mitachurl was already crumbling to dust, returning to the Abyss with it's hilichurl companions.

Xiao turned to face you, mask dematerializing from his face and reappearing at his hip. When he extended his hand down to help you get up, you furrowed your brows wondering why he had been here. Was it incredible luck, or had he perhaps been following you?

Taking his hand, you let him pull you up onto shaky legs. He didn't let go, looking a little worried you'd fall. You finally looked up to his face, scanning golden eyes.

"Why are you here?" you finally asked, throat feeling a bit scratchy.

"I told you I would be there when you called."

His words only confused you further until it dawned on you, the scratchy feeling in your throat was awfully similar to that which came with yelling. Had you truly called his name without even thinking, without even realizing?

"Thank you, Xiao."

[silverflame2724]

A cute prompt for you to make up for the angst: Merman Au. In a world where humans and mer are acquainted communities (trade and navigation partners), Mer-WWX sees human prince Lan Zhan and tried to get his attention! Splashing to draw eyes, making acrobatic jumps to impress, wearing his best jiaro silks, leaving cute trinkets on his windowsill in the hopes that he will like them, and singing enchanting songs for his Prince, all hoping that Lan Zhan will sing back and court him (mermaids court with music and gifts so write a completely smitten WWX and go nuts!)

Oh thank you!! I absolutely adore merman/jiaoren!WWX!! And this prompt is so nice! I really appreciate you giving me such a happy prompt since my grandaunt died two days ago from Covid.

_______________________________

It was a complete coincidence that brought them together. Wei Wuxian swam to the surface, intent on exchanging the jiaoren goods for coin and food, when he noticed the bright decorations around town.

As he handed the stuff over, red tail swishing every now and then, he asked the vendor, “What’s going on? Is there a festival I don’t know about?”

“Ah, Young Master Wei! You’re just in time! The second prince is coming here!”

“Second Prince? Why is he coming here?” 

“It’s just a yearly inspection.”

What? Wei Wuxian hadn’t heard about this in all the years he’d been here!

“Why haven’t I heard about this before?”

“Ah....the Second Prince doesn’t like crowded places or making a big deal about his arrival, so he takes some sort of alternate route to come here. Though, this year, that route was flooded.”

“I see.....”

“Do you want to see him?” The vendor asked upon noticing Wei Wuxian’s thoughtful look. “He’s rumored to be a beautiful person, second only to his brother, the Emperor. We can get a few of my friends to carry a tub over so you can see him!”

“Oh! I couldn’t bother you all that way.” Wei Wuxian politely refused. “I have other errands to do, unfortunately.”

“Oh....”

The real reason he was thoughtful was because of his and his people’s prior horrible experience with royals. They had fled Lanling, where the king had captured many of his people for the pearls they cried in place of tears. Gusu had been reportedly better, its Emperor laying down a law that bans the harm of mythical creatures such as the jiaoren. But Wei Wuxian didn’t want to risk any sort of attention to his people after they had just escaped. 

Wei Wuxian waved goodbye and dove back under the water. When he arrived at his home after going through a series of underwater caves, he found out his parents knew of these yearly visits from the prince and that it was fine to wander around since the prince doesn’t usually stay for long.

Wei Wuxian nodded along and decided to do make sure to distribute the food and coin around his community. 

Before he knew it, the sun had set. Wei Wuxian returned to the surface, considering he wanted to have some spicy human food for dinner. After eating on the edge of the dock, tail partially in to keep himself from drying, he heard music from afar.

Curious as to the owner of such a beautiful sound, he submerges and follows the sound towards a more secluded area of the dock. There, dressed in shades of blue, was a young boy, seemingly around Wei Wuxian’s age, playing the guqin with nary an expression on his face.

Something itched within Wei Wuxian and he had the urge to tease the boy into making a new sort of expression. As quiet as a mouse, he snuck close to the boy and burst out of the water, shouting, “Boo!”

As he expected, the white-clothed human became startled and nearly jumped in shock. Wei Wuxian cackled until he came face with a sword. He held his hands up in surrender even as his heart beat fast.

“Who are you?” The boy demanded.

Wei Wuxian lifted his head from the sword to come face to face with the most beautiful boy he had ever seen. The boy in front of him had the most entrancing pair of golden eyes. The boy narrowed his eyes and repeated his question, though the sword at his neck faltered a little.

Wei Wuxian took the opportunity to swim a little farther from the boy and pouted. “Gege, I just wanted to surprise you! You looked so serious sitting by yourself! You should look happier on such a beautiful night such as this!” The boy didn’t change his expression. “Also! Isn’t it rude to point your sword at a stranger?” 

“You do not know who I am?”

He’s probably some noble considering not many people own swords, but him specifically? “Nope! Should I know who you are?” He’s probably new or something. I haven’t seen him around before and nobles don’t usually come around these parts. ....Hmm, perhaps he’s here to see the prince?

The boy seemed to relax a little and put away his sword. “.....I apologize for pointing my sword at you. I was....unsure if you meant ill.”

“Why would I voluntarily bring harm to a stranger?”

“...” The human turned away and turned to his guqin, checking for damage.

“Hey, hey! Beautiful human with gold eyes! Don’t ignore meeee! Look at me, look at me!!”

The human merely sighed in exasperation.

Wei Wuxian’s pout became more pronounced and his tail splashed in irritation. The human’s eyes went wide with curiosity and shock and Wei Wuxian realized his mistake. “..Uhh....”

“A jiaoren?”

“Yeah! Do you have a problem with that?” Wei Wuxian said, guarded.

“No. I have never seen one before.”

“I see.” 

The atmosphere became awkward with the ensuing silence but Wei Wuxian could never stay quiet for long.

“So what brings you around these parts? I’ve never seen you before!”

“......I came with the prince’s entourage.” There was something odd in his tone.

“I see. You know, I’ve never seen the prince before. Is he as beautiful as the rumors suggest?”

“Vanity is against the rules.”

“Whose rules?”

“The palace’s.”

“Hmph. Well, this isn’t the palace. it’s fine to say something, hm?”

“....Gossiping is against the rules. Talking behind someone’s back is forbidden.”

Wei Wuxian threw his hands up. “Well, if I can’t talk about the prince, then tell me about you! That’s not against the rules, isn’t it?”

“........”

“A name! At least tell me your name! Mine’s Wei Wuxian, but Gege can call me Wei Ying since we’re already so close!”

“Shameless!” The boy hissed, ears red. 

“Oh come on!! I told you my name, it’s only fair that you tell me yours! Don’t be rude, Gege!”

“.....Zhan.”

“Hm?”

“Lan Zhan.” He repeated.

“Lan Zhan?” Wei Wuxian murmured and Lan Zhan nodded. Hmm. It’s a birth name, not a courtesy name. Is he trying to hide his identity? He’s not doing a very good job though, considering ‘Lan’ is the name of the royal family. Perhaps he’s a relative of the prince’s? I wouldn’t expect a prince to be out here by himself without guards so he must be a guard or something. Hmm. It’s something to think about later. It doesn’t seem like he means harm even after knowing what I am. Regardless, it’s not like he could follow me back to my home even if he did mean ill. Humans can’t hold their breath for that long. “Well, Lan Zhan, now that we know each other’s names, you’re now my friend!”

“........We do not know each other.”

“That’s what we’re talking for, silly! We’re getting to know each other, right?”

“Hm.” Lan Zhan packed his guqin away. “I must go. It is late.”

“Late? We’ve hardly talked though! Don’t leave me here, Lan-gege!” Wei Wuxian whined.

“Not.....Not.....gege.”

“Hm?”

“I have an older brother.”

“Hm? Oh.....oh! Okay, I understand! Lan-er-gege!”

Lan Zhan looked away, gripping his sword. “I will come back tomorrow night.”

“Huh?” Then he connected the dots. “Oh! Okay! See you later, Er-gege!”

Lan Zhan nodded and left. It was only when he couldn’t see him anymore did Wei Wuxian realize he could have just asked where Lan Zhan lived. If it was close to the water, he could just swim to him. That might put him close to the prince and other people from the palace which wasn’t a very comforting thought. He still didn’t know whether to trust the Gusu royals, despite possibly conversing with one.

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

The next few nights passed by in a similar fashion, with Wei Wuxian trying to get Lan Zhan’s attention and Lan Zhan hardly giving the jiaoren an inch.

Wei Wuxian, however, saw this as a challenge and began to do many things to get Lan Zhan’s attention. The most effective one was splashing him, though it earned him a glare as well as Lan Zhan predicting it and being able to dodge more often than not.

He moved onto trying to impress Lan Zhan by performing difficult acrobatic tricks. Lan Zhan looked amazed at this and Wei Wuxian was extremely smug, quickly turning an embarrassed red when Lan Zhan praised him, with a, “Beautiful.”

Wei Wuxian wailed, hiding his face in his hands, “Lan-er-gege, you can’t just say that!”

“Why?”

“It’s too embarrassing!!”

“Wei Ying calls me beautiful all the time.” Lan Zhan deadpanned.

Wei Wuxian peeked at him from in between his fingers, “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” He demanded. “You can’t just tease me like this! Where did the Lan Zhan who got so easily flustered go?” 

Lan Zhan said nothing, but Wei Wuxian could see the faint upturn of his lips that made his overall expression smug.

And Wei Wuxian didn’t know why, but it made his heart beat faster/

.......

It escalated. Because of course it did. Wei Wuxian wanted to hear Lan Zhan praise him again and see that faint smile again - no matter if it was smug or not.

He wore his best jiaoxiao silks - ones he personally weaved -, danced, and....and even sang to him. Lan Zhan even joined him sometimes, playing on the guqin.

He returned every night, sighing into his parents’ embrace about his Lan Zhan and his parents shot him increasingly knowing looks until they laid down the truth. 

“You’re courting him, aren’t you, A’ Ying?” His father asked.

“C-Court?”

“Yes, A’ Ying.” His mother patiently said. “You wore the most beautiful jiaoxiao silks you weaved, danced a well-known courting dance, and even sang for him. If you aren’t courting him, if you aren’t in love with him, then I call bullshit.”

Wei Wuxian clutched his burning cheeks. “Courting?” Am I really courting Lan Zhan? I mean.....I like it when he praises me and calls me beautiful and plays his guqin for me and even plays an accompaniment when I sing!

......Oh god. Oh heavens! I really am courting him!!! How could I not notice???!!!! Ahhhh!!!!

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

The nature of Wei Ying’s gifts and music changed, Lan Wangji noted absently. 

When Lan Wangji first met Wei Ying, he was unsure of what to think but was quickly captivated by his smile and intelligence. It made Lan Wangji reluctant to return to the palace. Or maybe even bring Wei Ying with him.

He shook that thought away quickly. He couldn’t just take Wei Ying away from his family!

Back to the point, Lan Wangji noticed the shy looks Wei Ying shot him from time to time and how his songs gained a sort of.....longing tone. The gifts too......they were pearl bracelets and hairpins that had to be made from Wei Ying’s tears. Lan Wangji may be shy but he was not oblivious to what it meant to receive a jiaoren’s personally made songs and pearls. 

Perhaps.....Wei Ying might share his feelings after all?

That thought made his heart beat faster. If he remembered correctly, jiaoren court through songs. And Lan Wangji had the perfect one in mind.

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

Lan Zhan had to leave today. He had to leave!!

Wei Wuxian wanted to cry, somehow. He hadn’t finished courting Lan Zhan! 

Fortunately, Lan Zhan seemed reluctant to leave too. “I can ask my brother to send me here soon.”

“Really? Really, Lan Zhan?”

“Mn.”

Wei Wuxian’s tail propelled him out of the water and forward so that he could wrap Lan Zhan into a hug. “I knew you liked me! Oh! Uh-- I mean--!”

Lan Zhan’s arms came around him. “Mn. Like Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian squealed happily. Lan Zhan liked him back!! He pulled back to give Lan Zhan a bright smile which, surprisingly, was returned!!

Wei Wuxian’s tail swished happily, “Keep smiling, Lan-er-gege! It’s really pretty!!”

Lan Zhan huffed out a laugh and Wei Wuxian grinned. 

.

.

“Wei Ying, there is something I must tell you.”

“Hm? What is it?”

Lan Zhan hesitated and Wei Wuxian sat up, sensing it was serious. 

“What is it?”

“Wei Ying, I have not been entirely honest with you. My name is Lan Zhan....... courtesy name: Wangji.”

Wei Wuxian took a moment to let that sink in. Where had he heard that courtesy name before?

“Hey, Mom.” Wei Wuxian asked as they crossed the border between Lanling and Gusu. “The Gusu royals. Are they good people?”

His mother nodded. “I was acquainted with the current king’s uncle until we had a.....” She winces. “A fight. They are good people, regardless of our past differences. The current king, Lan Xichen, and his little brother, Lan Wangji, have implemented a law that ensures the safety of creatures like us.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” 

“You’re the second prince?!” Wei Wuxian gasped, dramatically flopping into the water. The prince?! He was courting the actual prince of Gusu???!!!

“Mn.” Lan Zhan confirmed as soon as he surfaced, shoulders tense.

“Well, shit. I didn’t know, but it’s not like you’re going to punish me for my rather shameless behavior, right? I know humans have different customs for courting.”

“Mn.”

“Okay! Now that that’s out of the way, Lan Zhan - I can still call you Lan Zhan, right?” Lan Zhan nodded. “Then, Lan Zhan, now that I know you’re the prince, I know you must have a lot of business and I can’t push you to come here often. But do try to visit, okay? I’ll miss you a lot!”

“Mn. Will miss Wei Ying too.”

__________________________

Then, a few years down the line, the two of them get together because this is a happy universe and they know how to communicate!

[bloodpacks-archive]

clair de lune | jumin han

warnings: none man idk they’re in love and playin some piano kachow

word count: 1.6k

note: hi guys my best friend @kimjihyun​ really wanted me to write for jumin and i haven’t even done his route yet so i had to do a lot of studying to get his character down (aka read over her fics again and consult her about 20 times throughout writing this) but she seems to enjoy it and i hope you guys do too

Jumin plays piano with love. enjoy :)

The piano feels soft against Jumin’s fingertips. It moves fluidly, shaping the notes that encase the room and creep into his ears—leaving a sweet tone to ring. Yet, he’s out of practice. He pauses over some of the keys before deciding that yes, this is correct. He never lets out a sour note—he’s sure of that—but perhaps the pace is slower. It’s so rare he gets a moment to play these days, though. He’ll take slow if it means he gets it at all.

He lets a chord ring, feels it deep within the piano. Impressionist. A never resolving chord. An echo that is never returned.

Between the ringing, he hears soft footsteps against the cold tile. He knows the sound of her, knows the way she walks on the balls of her feet—he knows she tries to be quiet on her feet. And he knows she hates the tile, hates the chill it leaves in the morning. One day, he’ll change it to wood, he only needs her preference to put the decision through.

“It’s late,” She says, her voice carrying with the chord. He lifts his fingers off of the keys to hear the lilt of her voice better. “I have wine, if you’d like.”

He turns to see her standing in the doorway, two glasses of red wine in her hands. Silk loungewear drapes comfortably around her—a set that he’d bought her—and he watches as she moves closer to the piano, setting their glasses on the table that lays beside the grand. The glasses are surrounded by green plants that she’d put there, insisting that, for once, he could make his home feel a little more alive.

It should be as lively as you are, she’d said to him, placing a plant with draping vines onto the table. He’d thought to chuckle at her, thought to tell her no, I’d rather have your liveliness decorate my home, but he never did. He’s never been one to protest her wishes.

“What kind?” He asks, grabbing his glass off of the table to raise it to his nose.

“The 1982 Cabernet,” She answers, “I hope it’s alright with you?”

“It’s perfect,” He replies without another thought. He takes a sip of the wine and then places it back to the table next to hers. His fingers hover over the keys of the piano once more, but he stops, placing his hands into his lap instead and turning to look at her.

“No,” She says, “Please, keep playing. It’s been a long time since I’ve heard you.”

He nods at her and lets his fingers settle onto the keys. He plays quietly, careful to never allow the chords to speak over her should she wish to talk once more. Instead, the familiar tune acts as score, only meant to be heard by the ears paying closest attention, but the feeling known by anyone who dare listen.

“I’ve missed hearing you play,” She begins. He glances away from the keys to see her holding her glass close to herself, raising it delicately to her lips. The wine stains the very inside of her lips, creating a fade into a rich ruby. It’s a familiar sight to him, but he always finds himself staring.

“I’ve missed playing,” He replies. He glances between her and the keys, careful to miss neither a note nor any piece of her. He wishes to play this perfectly for her, but he certainly wishes to not miss any aspect of her expression, either.

“I’ve always been a bit scared of playing the piano.”

His fingers still on the keys, a third still rings through the strings. He turns to her, fully this time.

“And why might that be?” He asks. A rosy blush dusts her cheeks and peeks at her ears. He tilts his head and smiles at the sight—or rather the art piece that stands in front of him. He can hardly reduce her to only a sight, who is he to call her that? A perfection in composition stands before him, he should only name her as such.

“Well, what if I create an awful noise or a foul chord? Or my hands aren’t fast enough for the piece?”

“That’s the fault of the teacher, my love, never the student.” A smile curls onto her face as the term of endearment escapes him. She doesn’t move nor speak, so he reaches a hand out to her. She quirks an eyebrow at him, but he doesn’t waver, so she sets her glass back down and takes his hand, allowing him to guide her to the lower side of the piano.

She sits with him on the bench and he places her fingers onto the keys. He tells her which ones to play, and tells her when to play them. It’s awkward, the entirety of the song taking place in a higher key so she has to reach over near him, but he hardly minds.

He plays his part, the more complicated one, slowly. She’s never been one to not know music, enthralled by any piece from the moment she hears it, so she picks up on rhythms and patterns with ease—knowing them entirely by her own ear.

So he loses the need to tell her when to switch chords, and while they still play slowly, letting each note ring out for longer than the composer may have ever intended, it’s a lovely feeling. It’s a work of them together and it makes a smile break onto her face. Her head leans onto his shoulder as they play and it’s so natural, all of it.

He wishes to melt into the sound of her soul under her touch. He wishes to feel her fingers as the keys do—a soft and timid press into him until it consumes him. He wishes to become the sound she creates, be nothing more than the air that floats around her—to become her breath and her voice.

Jumin stops playing. He lifts his fingers from the keys, while her chord continues to flow about the room, vibrating through the piano and into his bones and blood. He doesn’t dare say a word, afraid to break the delicacy of the room, of the sound, of her.

Instead, he reaches out, taking timid fingers into timid hands. Her skin is soft against his, her hands cold.

“Did I play a wrong note?” She asks, her voice sweet as it travels through a now music-less room. She is the only sound that exists in this moment now, and he still wants to become nothing more than a product of her. Whatever she may wish him to be.

“No,” He answers, “No, you were perfect.” His eyes climb from her hands to her eyes. She’s watching him carefully, curiosity written onto her face as he holds her. She still has the stain on her lips, though her blush has long since disappeared.

In his life, there will perhaps never be another day where he does not wish to see her, lips faded into rubies, silk loungewear hanging off of her. There will never be another day in which he does not think of her as the only evidence of true life, love, and inspiration he has ever seen. She is the beginning and the end, she is the rain and the winter sun and the sound of piano keys in a room of cold tile on a late night in autumn.

He doesn’t have to consider it, he doesn’t have to think on it at all. He knows that this is what he wants. What he’ll forever want. He raises her hand, he twines her fingers and his, untwines them, lets himself feel the give and pull of her.

With one motion, he bows his head to her and presses his lips to the base of her ring finger.

A promise.

Any wish she could ask for, any item she could need, he would give to her. He will be the home for her rain, for her life, for her oceans, for her love. He will kiss ruby stained lips and taste vintage reds that have drenched her skin.

A joyous laugh falls past her lips. Effortless, breathy.

“What was that for?” She asks.

“Nothing, my love,” He answers, “You’ll know in due time.”

Then, without knowing its meaning, without knowing his thoughts, she takes his hand to her lips. There, she presses them to his own ring finger—right at the base, his left hand coated in the tingling euphoria of her touch.

Then she turns, letting go of his hand to return to her chords. When he doesn’t place his hands onto his keys, she turns to him.

“Well?” She prompts, “Do you plan to join me? It’s hardly Clair de Lune without the melody.”

He laughs then, shaking and bowing his head to her.

“No, it isn’t.” He hums then, “Good to feel needed.” She knocks her shoulder into his before he settles his hands onto the keys. With laughter, he presses the pads of his fingers into the chord.

And slowly, their score begins to form again. Yet the scene is still the same. An illustration of love, unwavering, not threatened by moonlight nor time. A shoulder pressed into a shoulder, fingers that know the touch of the other.

A promise for the future that lays in the sound of impressionism and the scent of wine.

[meganuzlockediary]

Fire red Final team

November 12th

So before I take on the Elite 4 here is my full team! In the end I decided grinding was a pain and so I have fallen for the rare candy tricks. (Pokemon Challenges on Youtube does the same so I'm only following his lead. I will only use it when totally necessary.)

First up: Surge the Zapdos

Calm Nature - Moves: Thunderwave, thunderbolt, Steel wing, Drill peck

Caught at level 50 in the powerplant. Going to be useful vs Lorelei and any gyarados I encounter. Help items are likely to just be berries or leftovers here. Trying to decide among the team whether to give Thunder to him and use some rain dance strategies between him and Lapras. Zapdos is not EV trained in the slightest and being new to the team has had very few battles. I think its fair considering he is a legendary.

Next up: Silk the Persian

Rash Nature - Moveset: Fake out, Water pulse, Bite, Return

Caught at level 18 on route 8. By no means the strongest in the team but will be useful for chip damage, Switch ins and may be my best bet gainst Agatha in some cases.

Third: Tigger the Arcanine

Adamant Nature - Moves: Extremespeed, Flamethrower, Strength, Dig

Caught at level 20 on Route 7. Arcanine and Persian have been with me for the entire second half of the game. Still, I feel Arcanine has yet to pull his weight. Its a shame he doesnt learn crunch by level up. He is my best bet vs Jynx and will be my back up for exeggcutor in the blue fight. He will certainly get his licks in.

Brock the Golem!

Brave nature - Moves: Earthquake, Rock slide, Brick break, Strength

My oldest Pokemon still around in this game. Caught in Mt. Moon at Level 9! He's been reliable from start to finish. Excited to finish with him by my side.

Amarillo the Alakazam

Adamant Nature - Moves: Psychic, Calm mind, Shock wave, recover

Obtained from Celadon Game corner at level 9! Has been so useful in so many battles, Being essential to Koga and Erika. Speedy and powerful But SOOOO frail. I am scared that one wrong move and Alakazam will go down.

Last but not least: Cerulean the Lapras

Sassy Nature - Moves: Surf, Ice beam, Thunderbolt, Perish Song.

Obtained from Silph HQ at level 25. Fully EV trained in HP, Partially trained in Sp. def and Sp. Atk. By far my strongest pokemon here and definitely a carry! He will be used most against Lorelei and Lance then fingers crossed he will be my main for Blue.

Overall a very stong team. With pretty much all pokemon I have never used before. I have definitely used Arcanine in Lets go pikachu when it came out. Lapras I may have even had in my very first run of the OG Pokemon Red! I never managed to beat Blue as a kid. Hopefully I can today. I would have liked, Nidoking and Venusaur in here too but losing them just makes the game much more interesting. This is going to be tough but I am excited to finish the first leg of this challenge.

[dinosaurtsukki]

BSD x university au hc’s | pt. 2

part 2 of the university au hc’s !! i am obviously a slut for chuuya and fyodor so don’t mind me. i hope you guys like this !!

check out pt. 1 here

***********************************************

Akutagawa Ryuunosuke:

i love akutagawa ryuunosuke my angst child but i’m just like ‘hmmmmmmm’ when it comes to what his course would probably be

after extensive research aka reading his character page on wiki i feel like maybe he’d be a history major because,,,, he likes antiques?

well his clothes do seem very dark academia-esque and i can see him liking something as cool as history

akutagawa’s probably into something like war history but he’s not weird about it he just finds it really cool how different strategies work or analyzing what exactly makes the winners win

he absolutely HATES the fact that he keeps having to read the Iliad for class

he’s also that classmate who INTENSIVELY DEFENDS achilles for being a bit of a little bitch (but he fully agrees that patroclus and achilles were gay af ok this was random moving on)

akutagawa has practically no social life. he doesn’t go to parties, he doesn’t talk to his roommate, he doesn’t even like to eat in the dining hall

BUT he absolutely loves being in debate team because WINNING

he’s such a nightmare to work with though but he just delivers so well when it’s time for him to speak. like, if he’s on a negative and it’s time to hash out rebuttals, just prepare to get MURDERED

other debaters: “esteemed scholars and adjudicators...”

akutagawa: “you, sir, have no idea how wrong you are.”

that is until dazai decided to randomly show up at a debate tournament all ‘la di da da’ like and completely crushed akutagawa along with his ego

from then on he started stalking dazai and just SOMEHOW managed to end up in his circle of friends

even though he’s antisocial in real life, akutagawa 100% runs a dark academia aesthetic blog on tumblr i’m right and i don’t accept criticism

it’s actually really good he has a ton of followers and even does requests for moodboards if someone asks nicely

atsushi was the one who actually found out about it but he’s nice so he didn’t tell akutagawa about it

kunikida probably follows that blog

Chuuya Nakahara:

if this part sounds like i’m just thirsting for chuuya then you’re absolutely right i love wine man

don’t get mad at me but i can ABSOLUTELY SEE HIM MAJORING IN FASHION DESIGN I MEAN LOOK AT HIM

he’s just always had such a good eye for fashion and he’s veryyy meticulous when it comes to snipping and putting together clothes

chuuya also carries a sketchbook full of designs and his drawings look amazing and he isn’t afraid to just show them off

that said he doesn’t dress like a tired uni student at all, like he just always looks so on-point and unbothered by his five million deadlines

dazai: chuuya, i said this was a CASUAL LUNCH

chuuya, dressed in what looks like silk pajamas: THIS IS CASUAL

tbh if he just wore a white t-shirt and jeans i would die maybe he’s actually saving us from this ordeal

he has so much talent though as a designer he’s probably had several internships with design companies all throughout his years at uni

i feel like chuuya’s also really active in extracurriculars and has been in leadership positions in some of them (he probably runs the student org for fashion design)

chuuya in a student band though oh my gosh i can’t breathe i can’t breathe him as a VOCALIST?? and wearing torn jeans and eyeliner and that same hat in concerts ican’t brEATHE

okay in all honesty he would thrive being in a band chuuya loves the attention and the creativity of being able to design their whole look and write songs

tbh i don’t know if he’d have a roommate chuuya’s probably the type who’d rather have one of those single rooms or just rent a flat for him to stay in even after graduation

because his social life is super vibrant, he does have a lot of friends and he does make an effort to get to know all of them individually 

but he’s more open around those who he’s been friends with for a really long time and as much as he’d like to say dazai isn’t one of them, he is

also chuuya is definitely the type to party hard during the weekends and has more than once crashed in someone’s house after drinking too much (dazai drew on his face on more than one occasion)

Oda Sakunosuke:

i love this man SO MUCH you guys have no idea i would literally die for him

100% this guy majors in creative writing because this is supported by FACTS and not just me wanting to be coursemates with him in this fictional world

super serious and diligent with his work especially since he’s passionate about writing. he loves to read in his spare time and is such a fan of classic novels about social realism or philosophy

oda spends 99% of his time in second-hand bookshops that the owner probably knows him by name at this point

he’s super old school when it comes to writing though, like he still keeps and writes in a notebook before typing it up on a laptop and no matter how many times dazai tells him its impractical, oda just keeps doing it

lmao whenever workshops come around he’s super nice with his critique. i bet a lot of his fellow classmates like sending their writing drafts to him

he draws smiley faces and always adds ‘nice work’ on people’s drafts omg i love odasaku

he’s such an old soul, he probably doesn’t do a whole lot of partying but he likes more quiet, private social events like drinking with close friends or just hanging out and talking at other people’s houses

he and dazai probably met when dazai decided to take an intro to creative writing class and wrote a long poem about double suicide on his first day that kind of put off everyone in the class from wanting to sit with him

odasaku was the only one who wasn’t exactly bothered but he did give dazai some comments to help him with his poetry and dazai instantly wanted to be his friend

in terms of extracurricular life, i can definitely see odasaku joining a writing organization and even the campus newspaper. he does find joy in interviewing students for newspaper articles

he’s also pretty into photography and uses a really old, second-hand camera that he bought at an antique store and fixed himself. at one point he won a prize in a contest

odasaku would be the best roommate. he’s super sensitive to when you have a bad day and will invite you to sit on his bed and hug his pillow and talk about your problems

scratch that, everyone talks to odasaku about their problems and now your room is like a therapist’s office

Edgar Allan Poe:

i swear this was the only gif i could find other than actual edgar allan poe

ANOTHER CREATIVE WRITING BUDDY AHHH I WOULD LOVE TO BE BESTIES WITH HIM AHHH

well actually i feel like since he’s super ambitious and already has a fixed idea on the stuff he likes to write, he’d probably double major in something like forensic science because he’d use it to write his mystery novels

omg that’s where he meets ranpo and now pretty much every main character poe writes is slightly based on on ranpo

it’s a problem. his professor brings it up more than once during his classes but it’s poe’s Thing now

he also has such an unending passion for gothic literature and he wears those white, long-sleeved blouses and waistcoats on a REGULAR BASIS

chuuya probably saw him once and was like ‘hmm, i could pull that off’

poe’s daily route is just going to the library and to class and then go home and that’s about it

he ended up working as a student assistant at the library because he’s just super familiar with the book collections and it’s a job that’s peaceful and quiet 

more than once though, he’d just be really in-deep with his writing to the point that he doesn’t even notice that the library has closed or that he hasn’t eaten the entire day

that’s alright though because ranpo always passes by the library at night to check on his friend and (reluctantly) give him some snacks

also since poe’s pretty much a recluse, he doesn’t go to any social event UNLESS it’s a halloween-themed one

he loves going all out with his costumes because he’s a Drama Queen like that but the problem is he keeps dressing up as gothic novel characters and nobody gets it

dazai, trying to guess his costume: umm,, Two-Face from Batman?

poe: IT’S DR. JEKYLL AND MR. HYDE

there was this one time when poe took it upon himself to host the halloween party and it was EPIC

he basically designed it as a murder mystery night wherein everyone who came pretended to be guests at a house and then a murder happened

the only problem was that ranpo was conspiring with poe and it was pretty much unfair

except for the fact that ranpo was frustrated at how bad everyone was at deducing that he ended up solving the mystery for them

Fyodor Dostoevsky:

one of my favorite scenes of him in s3 was of fyodor playing the cello because god damn that is beautiful and therefore i am hc-ing him as a music major and you can’t tell me otherwise

fyodor is an absolute music genius and he was definitely scouted by the university’s music program and then he was granted a scholarship (because in this ideal university, the arts are valued)

he purposely decided to go to a university rather than a music conservatory because he’s also interested in learning a bunch of other things

aside from his music classes, he ventures into comparative literature and philosophy, even a bit of computer science at some point

people always assume that since he’s a music major he probably wouldn’t do well in other subjects but SURPRISE BITCH

anyway, fyodor’s a genius because god clearly has favorites

aside from attending class, he’s even part of an official orchestra and has even landed a few solos 

that said, he’s quite busy and very preoccupied in his own work to actually have a social life either

you’ll often find him rehearsing by himself in an empty classroom for hours and hours on end (someone pls bring him food he’s also the type to forget to eat or even drink water)

if you are able to catch him perform at an orchestra or just practice by himself, it’s quite a mesmerizing sight. his eyes are often closed so he could focus on the sound alone and his fingers move so elegantly along the neck of the cello

(sorry i just love people who play any form of stringed instrument)

fyodor also takes such good care of his cello. also he would probably kill you on the spot if you touched his bow

he has a fairly small group of friends and they like playing chess together (even though fyodor is better than all of them) and just talk about um,, idk philosophy and stuff (whatever it is smart people do idk i’m not one of them)

i have a feeling he actually follows akutagawa’s dark academia blog and loves his content, even to the point of requesting ‘cello player moodboards’

also because he’s a cello player he needs to take care of his fingers so he wears gloves a lot (idk why i find this hot)

***********************************************

taglist (check out my post for details on being part of my taglist): @waitforitillwritemywayout @tpwkatsumu @laure-chan

[dreamiguess]

Day???: Coronation

A late submission for @fundyfiles FWT week. 

Summary:

Some twisted, selfish part of him wants someone to walk in, to witness the first and last time he’ll be able to love Dream publicly, to cause such a scandal he’d be removed from the line of succession entirely.

On AO3: divine rights

“I shouldn’t have found out from your father.”

No. He shouldn’t have.

“Found out what?” Fundy lies, thin as silk and half as smooth.

“Don’t play dumb with me,” he answers, the ice in his voice melting. The disappointment is worse than the steel, and he feels as if he were to peel back another layer he would find nothing but raw hurt. Because it hurts, doesn’t it? For Fundy more than anyone else, maybe. Dream would come at a close second. He stares at the floor somewhere between them, not ready to face either.

“I didn’t know how.”

It’s a half answer to a question that wasn’t asked, tired and barely audible. He hadn’t known how to process it for himself either, with one sleepless night to churn the news in his head over and over again before preparations for the ceremony began. The work made it easier at least, kept him too busy to think or feel. But standing in front of the captain, his captain, in an empty hallway, there is nowhere to escape it. As the silence settles between them, he finds the courage to look up.

Dream looks vulnerable, too vulnerable to be out in the open like this. He wears only a half plate and sword belt, still more lethal than most would be in full iron but it looks unnatural for him to be patrolling the castle in anything but. It’s standard off duty garb, but it’s too fitting for him to still protect his heart at a time like this. He had pulled his mask to the side, and it’s more intimate than if he were completely naked, green eyes staring him down. They’re not angry, though, and he thinks that’s what breaks him.

“It was supposed to be Tommy.”

He’s in Dream’s embrace before the first tear can hit the ground, cries muffled in his shoulder before they can echo against the stone walls. It’s terribly improper, to be seen in the arms of a soldier, especially in such a public place. Some twisted, selfish part of him wants someone to walk in, to witness the first and last time he’ll be able to love Dream publicly, to cause such a scandal he’d be removed from the line of succession entirely. Even as the tears subsides he can’t bring himself to step back, just moves so the crown of his head is pushed into Dream’s chest instead of his face.

“It was supposed to be Tommy,” he repeats.

It was always supposed to be Tommy. On the surface level, he was a direct descendent rather than a grandson. But more than that, he was charismatic and loud, had strong opinions and voiced them frequently. He was loyal to a fault and way too sharp for his age. Most importantly, though, he wanted crown prince and, one day, the throne. Fundy wanted a street kid who climbed the ranks too swift and too violent.

With war brewing in the South, his Majesty was forced to choose the next successor far too early, and Tommy is still too young and brash for that weight to be placed upon his shoulders.

It haunts them. Laying in bed at dusk, a luxury they only allow themselves on the darkest halcyon nights, and tracing patterns down Dream’s back. He savors the moment, lets it melt in his ribcage and swallow him whole.

“What does this mean for us?” he asks, as if he wasn’t the one who should know better than anyone. They both know what he’s talking about, the glass shards lying on the floor for them in the morning.

“The end, probably.” Dream lifts his head enough to look Fundy in the eye. One would think he’d have forgotten how to hide his emotions after wearing a mask so long, but his face is as guarded as if he hadn’t taken it off at all. It’s a privilege, a blessing even, to see it at all and one he doesn’t take for granted. He venerates every scar and treasures each freckle, because he’s beautiful even if Dream himself cannot see it.

“You can’t marry below your station anymore.” He rolls to his back and sighs. “And if your uncles do not, you’ll be expected to produce an heir.”

Fundy can’t help but laugh.

“You really think they won’t?” he asks, disbelieving. It earns him a smile.

“Still. I have no noble blood.”

“Fuck the nobles.”

Like sin it follows them to the training grounds, dancing around it lest they reveal too much to the knights nearby.  The entire family is expected to be military leaders in the event of conflict, and now doubly so for Fundy. Who better to practice with than their rising combat specialist?

“I’m on duty for the coronation,” he mentions over the clash of their practice swords. Fundy wants him to use steel, to put his life in the hands of his love and trust him fully and recklessly. The captain always refuses.

“I feel infinitely safer,” Fundy replies, pulling his weapon back and aiming for a slash to his side.

“I am honored to bring you peace of mind, your highness.” He blocks the attack and catches the blade with the hilt of his sword, turning his wrist to fling the broadsword from the prince’s grip. Before Fundy can react there’s a hand in his tunic and a swift heel sweeping his right leg off the ground completely. Dream lowers him to the dirt slowly, only truly letting him fall a foot at most. He falls all the same. The tip of his sword is cold underneath Fundy’s chin, it’s wielder haloed by sunlight above him. The instinct to bare his neck is too strong and Fundy is too weak, and he doesn’t have enough shame to delight in the way Dream swallows at the action.

“I yield.”

He takes the hand that’s offered, staring into the mask’s eyes the whole time. Their hands stay clasped for far longer than necessary because they’re equally terrible, it seems.

“I’m thinking about taking the promotion.” Dream drops his hand and turns to retrieve his discarded weapon, leaving Fundy to reel in his shellshock.

“For General?” He asks mechanically, another question they both know the answer to. He’s had a lot of them lately, and this time Dream doesn’t even respond. Just strides back to their arena and extends the handle out, ungloved hand wrapped around the blade in a mirroring act of faith. They’ve put their stone sword in the hand of Themis to balance her scales on, where the head that wears the crown rests opposite the hand that bears the shield. The power to absolutely ruin, offered freely.

Fundy doesn’t take it at all.

“I hate to leave early, but I feel a bit faint after that fall. Would you escort me back to the castle?”

Dream bows his head, never one to slip from their polished act.

“Of course, your highness. I should have been more careful.” After returning their equipment and strapping his swordbelt – his real swordbelt – back into place, Dream falls into step with him out of the arena.  The October air is kind to them, leaving goosebumps where sweat had stained their skin just moments before. It’s peaceful for a few minutes, as morning doves and starlings steadily replace the ringing of steel and their gentle footsteps drown out the thumps of bodies hitting the ground. Time slowed since Dream broke the news to him, far too casual for something they had discussed for far too long, and Fundy can almost believe that the route he’s taken isn’t far too long to lead back to the castle.

“I thought you,” he starts once they’re well beyond hearing distance. “I thought you wanted to remain a captain.”

It’s difficult to phrase what he wants to say. Fundy is not Dream’s keeper and for his love’s sake if nothing else, he won’t act like one. He wants to, though, wants to hold on to him like a child and repeat every debate they’d considered since the offer was made. I thought it was too dangerous. I thought it was too much responsibility, you liked your squadron too much, hated meetings. I thought, I thought, I thought.

And of course, the drumming song beneath it all: I thought you wouldn’t leave me.

“I’ve always been a strategist,” he replies, voice too even to be genuine. A sigh escapes him, and he entwines their fingers and lets his head rest ever so slightly on Fundy’s shoulder. He’s living in the illusion, Fundy can tell, basking in the feeling of lovers talking a walk on an Autumn day. The prince can see right through him, can taste every thought he’ll never acknowledge, much less share.

“And the position needs to be filled sooner rather than later.”

This is what he means: We need to end, and I can’t stay if I can’t have you. He means to save Fundy from himself, to cut the chord so Fundy can’t try to keep him. To force Fundy to follow the rules.

“Bullshit.” He surprises himself with the outburst. “Leaving for some war won’t make me stop loving you. You don’t need to fucking protect me,” he throws their connected hands in the air and fights for words. “Protect me from-“

Dream tugs free before he can finish, unclasps his mask and throws it to the forest floor without even looking. He cups Fundy’s face in both hands, eyes shining with renegade tears.

“I don’t know how to do anything else.” He sounds broken and Fundy feels it like glass. There are too many things he should say so he says nothing at all, wraps a hand into the collar of his shirt like a man possessed and pushes until Dream’s back hits the tree and he can’t get any closer. He kisses him like he’s dying, kisses him like the world is ending, like they’re already on their future battlefields and Dream is his only lifeline.

The coronation arrives all too fast. He lives in a limbo between the grand hall and his chambers, between the seamstress and the head chef. The ceremony is beautiful, with green and gold filling the room and glass sparkling in the setting sunlight. He’s reached a state of calm he hadn’t believed possible only two weeks ago, looses himself in the dull ache of kneeling and the rhythmic voice of their Sage. No matter how foreign the crown feels, he doesn’t have to lie as he repeats the oath; he loves the kingdom, can swear to benevolence, to serve the people. The promises settle deep in his bones. The responsibilities, the service, was never really his problem.

“I present to you your crown prince,” the vicar finishes, and Fundy stands to face the people. He’d practiced the ceremony, knows he’s supposed to wait for quiet to settle once more and kiss his grandmother’s hand, to bow before his Majesty and show humility. Instead, he walks straight back down the aisle in long strides to where the guards are posted at the doors. The murmurs and gasps don’t matter, have faded from his awareness completely by the time he reaches Dream. And with sure hands, he pushes the stupid mask up enough to free the bottom half of his face and buries a hand in blonde hair, and finally falls into his love. He kisses him gently, and gentler when his love unfreezes enough to return the affection. In front of his father and his father before him and anyone else who cared to show up, Fundy claims his divine right.

Fuck the nobles.

[10millionyearsdungeon]

Hydrophilinae

A/N: Okay, sinners, this one was work. Breaking from my usual, I picked another unsung character from the pack and...well, this left me feeling somewhat unnerved throughout for various reasons. It’s part of the BNHArem “Choose your fantasy” collab. Consider this a teaser for what to expect with Kinktober, lovelies. Thanks for @hisoknen and @dymphnasprose for beta reading, and for not letting this kick my ass. I went a more modern fantasy route, and was inspired by my recent trip with the husband and friends to the beach...Presenting: Monoma Neito, the Phantom Thief.  For you brainier readers out there, the title alludes directly to the type of creature I based our handsome (if unstable) suitor on. Enjoy~ ================================================= Every year at summer’s end you and your family would retreat to the shore. The house you stayed in, borrowed from a family friend in exchange for the occasional odd job or favor from your father and brothers, was one of the oldest on the island. The town that settled there was an old fishing outpost, and many of the locals who lived there year round still tended to their nets by hand and left symbolic offerings to the regional deities to bless their boats and ensure a bountiful catch. As a child you grew up chasing your brothers along the private docks and across the island as they hunted for the next big adventure. This year was different-- you came alone this year, your family too busy or unable to come down the coast with you for your annual retreat, but your benefactor extended the invitation to your friends to soften the blow. 

Keys in hand, you looked at the house with its pale green siding and something about the familiar sight of the brackish water lapping along the pylons rising from the sea made you feel uneasy. You couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched as your girlfriends screamed and cooed over how excited they were to have the entire house to themselves for the week. They scrambled to unpack the cars as you stared out across the water from the carport, the unusual stillness of the waves making you uneasy. 

The longer you stared, the more intense the sensation of being watched became. You couldn’t see anyone standing out on the sandbar, and there weren’t any boats sailing across the sound. Shaking it off, you continued to unpack, only half paying attention to the conversations bubbling around you. It was nothing, you told yourself. Just some pre-vacation paranoia…”An afternoon at the beach might make me feel better, “ you sighed, peeling your clothes off to change. The transition from unease to vacation-ready was tenuous, but necessary if only to shut up your housemates for the week. The walk to the beach was a short one, thankfully. 

The world melted away under the summer sun. Sand between your toes, you took to reading the waves, eyes resting wistfully on the whitecaps as they broke on the shore. Something pulled you from your spot in the blistering sands and past the breakers. It started as a whisper, begging you to go further. You were past the whitecaps, just treading over the gentle roll of the tide pulling you out to sea. You couldn't feel sand beneath your toes, and time slipped away from you. All that existed is the glint of the sun off the water and the constant rolling waves. It was almost peaceful out there between the sea and sky. Even underwater you could feel that pull, the familiar song begging you to submit. 

"Come closer, follow me deeper. Trust me."

You followed, entranced by the call, by that warmth in your chest when the waves crashed overhead. By the time you surfaced and glanced back at the shore, the people were ants crawling along the sandy strip in the distance.  

Hesitant to go further, you felt something cool brushing against your legs. Soft, almost lovingly caressing your calves as if to soothe the soreness from your exertion, you swore they were long, pale fingers ghosting over your skin. You'd sigh if you could afford the breath it would waste. Opting to float on your back, sound and sight deprived from the blinding sun and sting of salt water, you contemplated what it would mean to give in. The song conjured your thoughts to wander deeper into your most secret fantasies. A handsome face framed in gold with piercing blue ice chips swimming in a polar sea haunted your thoughts and you swore you could almost taste him with every spray that coated your lips. The wandering phantom hands grew bolder as they traced up the curve of your thighs. Shivers danced up your spine as another wave rocked your body farther away from the shore. “Come with me,” you heard the silk and velvet of his voice resonate through the water. You had but a moment to take a single breath before you were yanked from the sundrenched world above the breaking tide. The sudden violent seizure from the surface world left you spluttering under the waves. Eyes burning, you caught the flash of platinum hair and arctic-white skin peppered with indigo scales along his toned obliques and shoulders. There was almost something reptilian in the way he moved through the balmy water. His azure eyes rested expectantly on your thrashing frame, and he smiled. So caught up in your fight to the surface, you failed to notice the long serpentine tail coiling around your dwarfed body, keeping your head from just breaking the surface. “You took too long,” he chided, wagging a pale finger in front of your horrified face. “You’re in my world now...and I don’t like to be kept waiting.” Your voice was numbed by the brine encasing your vocal cords, a fact he seemed mildly annoyed by. Vision in dappled sunlight, your caller twisted his dark coils tighter around your hips and rested the tip of his tail between your thighs. Entranced by his otherworldly beauty, you allowed yourself to go limp in the dark coils of his winding tail. His pale hands wandered along your body, casually inspecting your warmth as he went along. The current didn’t seem to affect him the way it did you, nor did the violent rising of the tides. Suspended in endless blue, you choked out a muffled cry as he gripped the swell of your breast with a harsh hand. 

Your lungs burned, begging for oxygen, but trapped in the clutches of the smirking leviathan you found that you stopped caring as soon as you felt his scales rubbing along your legs. Caught between his siren song and your sense of self preservation, you writhed against his tail, the friction between your thighs and into your core further clouding your judgment. He peeled away the triangle of fabric hiding your breasts from view and flicked the forked tip of his serpent's tongue along your exposed bud, his grip holding you against the current. 

Your mouth opened in a soundless moan at the slick sensation on your nipple and with it came the burning cry for oxygen in your chest.  Locked in against the smooth, shimmering jet scales, consciousness seemed a distant dream. As the darkness crept in, devouring your sundrenched world, you felt him sink his teeth into the tender flesh of your breast and the writhing of silken skin along your core. You felt your body sink into the serpent's clutches, ripping you from the world you knew before. As the tingling in your breast flooded through to your periphery, you found yourself not caring if you met your demise in the arms of a handsome mythical beast. In the back of your mind, you couldn't shake the idea that it wasn't real-- it couldn't possibly be. Offhanded you promised yourself that you'd stop binge drinking with your girlfriend's on an empty stomach again. 

++ “Come to me…” 

The sound pulled you from your bed, making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Nearly 3am, you couldn’t understand why you would be awake just to look across the water. It was too early for the other boats to be off their mooring, and the world was quiet other than the slapping of the waves against the waterlogged wet-dock.

"Come with me, come to Monoma," a soothing voice whispered above the waves. You were alone on the balcony off of your room overseeing the bay. There wasn’t another living soul above the water who could be calling to you so alluringly. You wanted to turn back, withdraw back inside the safety of the house and curl back up into your bed until morning. You didn’t want to answer the call, but your body wasn’t your own anymore. Limbs heavy, you felt as if moving through a dream. Despite the warmth in the air, the wind blowing in off the water made your lungs seize with the frost of winter. You climbed down the stairs to the wet dock, that calming male voice whispering to you. It started as a warmth in your chest. Your toes were at the end of the pier, the turbid water kissing each one in warning. You trembled, searching for the source of the voice when you finally saw him. 

Blond hair slicked back with brine, pale blue eyes fixed firmly on your enthralled being, he smiled  and held a hand out to you from the tide. "Come with me," he sang teasingly. His lips were blue against the snow of his skin. Reason begged you to turn away, to forget the voice and it's alluring owner. You knelt to meet him and the constant of his smile only to feel him whisper his song against your lips again. "Come with me." The melodic sound crested with the waves as they lapped against the dock. Frozen to the spot, you felt your breath seize in your chest as the blond smirked impassively in his scrutiny. Your eyes closed and for a second you could taste ice and salt on your tongue. ++ Sunlight poured in through the blinds. Head feeling ten sizes too large, you moaned into the small space of your room and shielded your eyes from the brutal sun. “There was no way…” Your mouth was dry, almost gritty as you pushed from your bed and climbed down the stairs to find the house was empty. “I guess everyone’s already at the beach…” you murmured to yourself, casually raking your eyes over the half-empty bottles staggered along the kitchen bar. It always fell to you to pick up the pieces after a wild night with your friends, but this one felt like you were on the outside looking in. Did you have too much to drink? You still tasted salt and sand on your lips, the memory of the blue-eyed man with his intoxicating voice still lingering like a bad dream. As you returned the bottles to the liquor cabinet and wiped down the alcoholic remnants of your friends’ breakfast from the counter tops, you couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. You collected your things for the day and loaded into your car to drive into town to collect supplies, all the while struggling to ignore the ache in your chest that something or someone had invaded your temporary home. Pulling out of the carport, you glanced up across the private dock and could have sworn you saw a flash of platinum blond hair glinting in the sun at you in the rolling waves. The old man running the general store for the island was a tanned, gnarled caricature of a person, but his grinning face was one you had known since childhood. Old Nobu waved you over and took your basket from your arms. He took one glance into your tired face and frowned. “Y/n, you look rode hard put away wet. What’s going on?” You waved your hand and smiled sheepishly. “Nothing. Just cleaning up after my pack of wild animals.” He nodded, raising a skeptical brow at the haunted look in your eyes. “Really, Nobu, I’m fine.” 

"Y'know, if you and your friends aren't careful, you're gonna get snatched up." You rolled your eyes. Getting snatched up from your getaway would be the least of your friends' concerns considering half of them were more worried about making their potential "dick appointments" with some of the local shipyard workers. You shook your head and gave the old man a grateful, if forced, smile and continued on your way. Car loaded with groceries, you drove the five minutes back to the beach house, curious to find it still devoid of your friends. Your keys jingled emptily as you balanced the heavy bags on your hip and fumbled with the lock, all the while failing to ignore the sensation of ethereal eyes boring through your thin sweatshirt. The gulls cried a lonesome dirge overhead and you were met with the roar of a second car pulling into the port beside yours, your friends’ giggling and screaming as they filtered out of the enclosed space and up the stairs breaking the comfortable quiet. “Y/n! Come here! Meet these cuties we brought back!” You rolled your eyes and retreated into the chill of the house and its air conditioning. The last thing you needed to complicate your vacation was some vapid boy out to score. The boys filed in with your girlfriends and dug into your groceries, earning another defeated sigh. Abandoning the task, you snuck past the starving horde and slunk to the private dock, your father’s boat still moored tightly to the pier. “My, I didn’t think I’d find someone so pretty pouting in a place like this.” Recognition sparked behind your eyes as you pulled away from the waves, an all too familiar shock of platinum hair and slow, casual smile greeting you with a chuckle. “You know, it’s rude to stare, Y/n.” Your eyes widened for a brief moment, only for you to turn your attention back toward the deceptively calm waters. “Shouldn’t you be upstairs with the others?” He seemed to consider your question for a moment, his smile never wavering. “Why? I didn’t come here for them.” He spoke with such certainty, as if it was painfully obvious why he would come and invade your personal space. “Besides, you’re being a poor host, Y/n…” the way he sang your name made your skin crawl. The way the sunlight reflected from the alabaster of his sculpted torso burned your eyes. Did he even see the sun? Pale as he was, there was something undeniably attractive about him, the confidence he exuded. “I don’t recall giving you my name, or being properly introduced.” “Neito~! Come back up here and show these ladies how to take a proper shot!” your friend drunkenly cooed down at the young man. He waved her off casually and held out his hand to you, as if to lead you back into the chaos above. “Come with me?” The way his tongue lolled over the syllables of his request had you frozen to the spot. Did it always sound like that? The familiarity of his request chilled you, your blood practically freezing in your veins as he hummed and raked those devastating blue eyes along your frame. Your breath seized in your chest and you shook your head, withdrawing closer to the boat. The boy licked his teeth and swallowed back his distaste for your rejection. “I’ll ask again: come with me.” It came out as an order, the blond now visibly fuming at your refusal. You turned your back to him and returned your gaze to the pale green waters lapping at your ankles earning an ill-concealed growl of annoyance from the blond. Your friends called out to the blond again, and as quickly as his seething came on, it evaporated behind a cruel-yet carefree simper. It wasn’t right; the way he so casually invaded your space, the familiar way he rolled your name on his tongue like honey; all of it left you feeling like a stranger in your own skin. Your friends invited an anonymous man, several anonymous men into your sanctuary away from the bustle and exhaustion of the city, and you couldn’t shake the feeling that they unwittingly led a viper into the den. ++ 3 am rolled by, and again you were pulled from your bed by that same haunting call. You didn't even open your eyes before your ankles were in the water and the wooden dock was digging into the backs of your thighs. 

He smiled intently and rested his forearms on your lap. He smelled like salt water and sunlight resting on your thighs. "Hello, again," he hummed, toying with the hem of your sleep shorts. His chest was bare, almost milky white contrasting with the green of the water. The water was a mirror, still aside from the gentle rippling of the tide. In your hazy state, the contrary waves and swirling of the water kissing against your legs seemed ordinary. Otherworldly, the man casually stroking his icy hands along your bare thighs had you hypnotized by the empty sky in his eyes. 

"We've got to stop meeting like this,” you breathed out. He made himself comfortable and rested his chest against his folded arms, chilling you skin wherever he touched. "I don't even know your name."

"Doesn't matter, darling. I know you well enough. Besides, you'll be mine soon enough." 

You pursed your lips and he smiled again, still stroking your inner thighs with piqued interest in how to best steal your innate warmth. 

"Are...are you the Phantom Thief?" He scoffed openly at the question, rolling those gorgeous eyes at you mockingly. 

"And if I am?" 

His reply was simple, yet loaded. Without anything else to go by, you leaned back and sighed through your nose. 

"This is some dream," you half mumbled out, knuckles turning white with how hard you held onto the dock. Your pulse raced and every fiber screamed for you to get away, to put as much distance between you and the blue-lipped Adonis in your lap. He looked a little taken aback by your comment, but rolled with it all the same. Your ignorance played into his favor after all. Something in his easy smile chilled you to the marrow. Out of the corner of your eye you could have sworn you saw the rippling of jet scales breaking the polished mirror of the sound. 

"I'm a dream, am I?" His voice was haunting, tone at the edge of condescending when he ran a pale hand through his slick flaxen hair. You nodded dumbly and earned a chuckle for your honesty. "Let's make it a pleasant one then," he humed, pulling his torso from the water to feather butterfly kisses along your neck. Your skin bubbled with goosebumps. Caught between revulsion and delight, you stiffened with his advances. His giggle made your stomach churn, adrenaline forcing your heart to pound against your ribs so hard your chest hurt. 

"I...I know you." The words numbed your mouth as they tumbled past your lips. He was so close, painfully, teasingly close. "I think I do." 

"Curious you can still think." His fingertips were freezing against your skin as they ghosted past the hem of your shorts and along the crease of your thigh. A shiver made you keen into his wandering hands as he tugged your shorts and panties to the side to tease along your lower lips. "That won't last long," he purred. 

The water below churned with another gentle wave, splashing over your soft whines against his cheekbone. The rolling of sporadic waves lapping against his back and your calves hinted that something huge was looming in the deep. Cool scales and thick muscle brushed against the soles of your bare feet, a sensation that had you bucking into the blond's fingers. He leered down at where his fingers disappeared into the warmth of your cunt, stretching the circles of muscle with curiosity. You squirmed into the burn as he scissored his fingers against your tight walls, humming at the pleasant slick coating his digits as you whimpered into the chilly night. It wasn't a loving embrace; it felt more like an examination, like he was searching your most intimate parts for that telltale ridge that would send you careening into bliss.

"Come for me," he sang into your ear, the purr almost compelling you to arch into his grasp and follow him into the depths. Feeling you convulse into his hand, he grinned sardonically, digging his fingers deeper until he felt that tight ring of dense tissue pucker and spasm against his finger tips. "Come," he ordered, compelling you against all reason to obey. His ultramarine eyes shone brightly in the floodlight off your balcony into the bay, ebony scales practically sparkling like polished onyx along the white perfection of his completion. He opened his mouth as you came, needle-point fangs gleaming before he sunk them into the meat of your neck. You came undone on his fingertips as he prodded at the neck of your cervix, groaning into your bloodstained flesh with every wash of his tongue. 

Your body went limp against the dock, held up only by his strong torso and the coils of strong muscle and scales twisting underfoot. How much time passed before you regained control of your faculties? Body heavy and brain hazy, you moaned into his bare chest, aching from the loss of him. "Of course you'd be perfect for this. I knew you would be," he crooned, the dock rolling suddenly under you. Your eyes remained glued to the waves, but the waters were calm. Staring blankly ahead as the lights along the opposing shore twinkled in a twilight taunt, you felt yourself lurch forward, folding over your molester's hard shoulder. The sun was beginning it's slow climb above the horizon, the waters so clear you could see the snails and crabs scuttling along the bottom between the twisting, swirling coils of an impossibly long serpentine tail. Paralyzed by the burning, numbing sensation pooling into your fingers and toes you were helpless against him as he pulled you into the water. 

Salt water burned your sinuses and lungs on the way down, the constant drag against the current only driving more water into your airways. You wanted to scream, to fight back but your body wasn't your own anymore. The struggle you craved was answered by leadened limbs and the swirling sea as the phantom thief carried you through the current. Cold water rushed into your lungs, and for a moment, in the strong arms of your captor, you thought you were going to die beneath the waves and no one would ever know. The intense pressure of the deep blue crushing your body as he carried you swiftly through the swirling darkness made your nerve endings sing your impending funeral dirge. It was only a matter of time before the warmth left your body, robbed by the invasive chill of the surrounding blue. When you came to, you rolled to your side, bent over onto yourself and forced the seawater from your lungs and belly with heavy, shuddering heaves. Just when you thought you had expelled everything left in your body another wave of nausea ripped through and had you retching against the stones cradling your battered body. Teeth chattering, you pulled your knees into your chest and shivered, cold sinking down to your bones. “You’re not going to get any warmer like that.” Your muscles locked from the chill, but you knew the voice taunting you from across the din. The bite at your neck oozed with every throb of your quickening pulse. You heard his footfalls before you saw him. Your pale Adonis towered over your shivering body, bare to the elements and proud. He crouched down, canting his head with an impassive raise of his brow and ran a surprisingly human hand through your soaked hair. Even in the dim light of the cave he was deceptively gorgeous. “Surprised you survived. Good. Now the real fun can begin,” he sang. The cavern itself was a natural marvel, all violet hues and soft-worn stone. The pale green glow of bio-luminescent snails and starfish mirrored the night sky you were forced to abandon. 

If it weren't for the spasming of your muscles from the cold or the bite of pumice against your palms and knees you would almost be impressed. Instead, your awe and wonder we're tainted by the deep shadows cast on your captor's face as he drew closer, always leering at your shivering frame. He stood proudly on two legs and reached out to quiet your chattering teeth with a harsh and heavy hand latching onto your jaw. His white-blond hair fell into his eyes and for a moment you swooned, chest and neck throbbing in tandem with your racing heart. 

"Neito…?" you whispered. He furrowed his brow and hovered over your lips with a wicked grin. 

"Ah, yes…that’s one of my names. Figures you’d be the one to have enough sense left to recall." he forced you back to the stone floor, crawling along your body as if to offer you warmth and comfort. "You couldn't just be one of those brainless, little collections of holes like the others. So...complex, but that’s why you’re so special," he purred, digging his fingers into your abused cunt. "It's only a matter of time before my venom runs its course. You'll feel it...burning its way through your pathetic little veins and you’ll beg for the cold." The quaking wracking through your body wasn’t from the freezing water clinging to your skin, but the fear seeping to the forefront of your mind. He sneered at your cries and ran a tongue along hypodermic fangs, teasing another droplet of cloudy venom out to drip along your exposed flesh. The fire building in your core was immense, burning its way from your chest and threatening to devour you from the inside out before the shifting terror slipped his glamour as your pussy clenched futilely around his agile fingers. It robbed you of voice, urged you to buck into his coaxing hand. “That’s it, darling…You’re almost ready.” You dared to look up at him, capturing a fleeting glance at him when the scales wavered into view along pale marble forearms and the cut of his torso. The gradient from his snowy complexion and the midnight sky of the winding serpent’s tail cradling you on the cavern floor would have been stunning if you weren’t choking out what you felt could be your last breaths. You could feel a slimy growth nudging you from behind. The sudden texture change from smooth to slick made your skin crawl in a way that made your stomach twist in on itself in new ways. It rubbed between your ass cheeks through your soaked shorts in a way that made you feel violated. The titan above you let out a shuddering groan, mouth open enough for you to watch that all too familiar forked tongue loll out in twisted pleasure. His fingers tirelessly worked your spasming cunt open, and it dawned on you exactly what he intended as his combined saliva and secreted venom drooled into your mouth in nauseating ropes and coated your lips and cheeks. As your body relaxed into the abuse, the appendage grew bolder, slipping under your clothes to tease you directly. “That’s it, darling, relax for me. Relax for Monoma,” he purred. You could taste his lust and the fact that your body obeyed without a fight made you want to cry. He withdrew his hand from your core and watched as you whimpered over the loss of him exploring your quivering hole. “Relax,” he crooned. “It’s not going to fit if you fight like that.” The heat threatening to consume you stoked hotter as you spread your legs and melted into his glistening coils. “That’s it…” You turned into your belly and your cheek brushed against the smooth stone almost instinctively. Suddenly feeling even more exposed, you fought to squirm away only to be met with another swift bite to your shoulder and high cackle. “Ah, ah, ah, darling.” Without another word, you felt the air hit your back and bare ass-- clothes ripped asunder by claws like polished glass and you never felt so small. Something slick and strong teased up into your throbbing pussy, earning Monoma a keening moan that echoed throughout the titan’s lair. It was sweet music, a prelude to the overture he’d pull out of your curious little body. Your breath caught in your chest when you felt the fork of his tongue tease into the deepest reaches of your sex, and he knew you were ripe and ready for him to claim. More heat built up in your core and your screaming only fueled the serpent’s pleasure. He continued his tease and growled at your near-release, swiftly retracting his tongue from your spasming cunt with a cruel spank. “You’re mine, darling.” You felt the flexing of smooth, silken scales dragging between your thighs as your kidnapper shifted himself along your body. The human-like torso draped over your back gave way to that all too familiar slickness rubbing along your lower lips. Monoma at your ear, he let out a shuddering gasp as the tip of his cock teased your warmth. “Or you will be, soon enough…Gods, you’re delicious,” he moaned out. It only grew harder and slicker the longer he rutted against you, filling you with revulsion over what you had been reduced to. Strong arm wrapped around your waist, he positioned your frame to his liking and plunged that slimy cock into your waiting pussy. It was nothing like you’d ever felt before- the way it filled every inch and then some, how it seemed to caress against your cervix and g-spot simultaneously with its length, every thrust sending you deeper into maddening pleasure. The tip of his elegant tail brushed against your engorged clit and nearly sent you into a thrashing orgasm. It was enough to distract you from the second appendage slipping its way between your ass cheeks to tease your neglected asshole. The slick collecting against your skin banished your thoughts and reduced you to exactly what he wanted-- you were nothing more than a cocksleeve to quiver and moan out for him as he emptied his clutch into your waiting womb. The sensation of gel-encapsulated eggs sliding through into your clenching uterus left you brushing the highest peaks of euphoria. Lovingly, he rubbed his hand along your tightening abdomen and purred in your ear. “Come for me, darling. It’ll be easier to accept them if you come for me.” “Please,” you whimpered as another egg glided effortlessly to join the others. Being pumped so full and kept cycling on that high made you dizzy. Tunnel vision claimed you and consciousness abandoned you, leaving you just another warm body for the serpent to rut into as you spasmed and came around his cock involuntarily. It was a loaded “please.” Please be just a dream, please be just another figment of my overactive imagination. Please make me cum again. Please let me go. In the sweet embrace of the dark, you floated between reason and safety. You would wake in your bed and go about the rest of your vacation, at least that was the hope. Perhaps a dreamless sleep would have been preferable to the hellscape your imagination conjured… ++ Another morning came and with the rising of the sun, you found yourself aching, bruised, and entirely too dressed. Your neck throbbed dully under the thin cotton of your t-shirt, and your arms and legs were covered in bruises you couldn’t recall getting. Was it another crazy night of blackout drinking with the girls? You pushed those thoughts aside and opened your eyes to find you weren’t alone. Staring longingly beside you was the same familiar blond from a few days before. Those empty blue eyes burned through you in a way that left you frozen; his hand blazed a trail over your stomach and rested just above your panty-line in reverence. Confused, or maybe half-asleep, you pushed his hand away and nearly folded in on yourself when you felt your insides shift. The fluttering in your lower belly made your blood run cold. You sat up and glanced down at the slight bulge disappearing back into your skin as another curved you to meet your own hovering hand, as if attracted to the warmth from the outside. Neito grinned and propped himself up on an elbow to watch you slowly piece together your new lot. He flicked his forked tongue at you teasingly and dragged you closer so he could feel his hatching clutch flit inside your accommodating womb. “Aren’t they beautiful, darling?”