#and especially now that the tags are not working in the master post its a bit annoying
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yingdu-lover · 3 months ago
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angry post
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i have a personal problem with this kind of attitude. it's not a petty thing i am unreasonably angry about. there is a politics of translation and it affects one's understanding of art and popular culture/cultural geopolitics.
yes, tbhx has an unprecedented world wide release for a donghua/Chinese media and it's vital for its popularity, especially among transnational fandom spaces. Transcreated works are important for easier access. BUT, my gripe with the Japanese dub of a Chinese media WILL never be resolved. I am not talking about the quality, the issue lies in the very creation of the Japanese dub of a donghua itself. Let me give you an example.
Last year, we had an optional course called translation studies and one of the first things our professor asked was : who are the writers of A Doll's House and Waiting for Godot? He told those few of us who had read these texts closely to shut our mouth and let others take a guess. Most people answered : British writers. The texts are English texts. Because it's so famous among literature enthusiasts and when a piece of literature has a 'classic' tag attached to it, we tend to generalize and oversimplify it. So, a Norwegian playwright's original Norwegian play or an Irish playwright's play originally written in French- both get labelled as British literature. Get my point?
The anime industry is justifiably dominated by Japanese productions but when we forget to accommodate the nuances, the origin culture decays. It is, in many senses, a form of subtle cultural imperialism brought by ignorance.
People complain about Link Click's 'poor marketing' but I think Haolin was clever doing so. Even in the reviews by Indian anime bros™ I see them trying to pronounce 'donghua'. People RECOGNIZE that Link Click is a Chinese media, it's NOT an anime. You may laugh at those link click related youtube video titles saying stuff like : China is taking over anime, this Chinese anime is better than your favourite anime, PEAK Chinese anime, the best anime of 2021 is NOT Japanese?!, Link Click is taking over anime, China's hidden gem, China might have created the best anime of the year- CHINA IS IMPORTANT.
Whenever people talk about Chinese donghua- Link Click, Heaven Official's Blessing, Master of Diabolism etc are mentioned and people KNOW that it looks like anime but not really anime. It's... something... something else. This distinction is critical and essential.
Now, thanks to censorship (the Chinese version is not available on any official platform), many people think (not all people dig that deep while watching things, like come on) Spiritpact is a JAPANESE anime. Who the heck is Tanmouki or whatever. They are are Duanmu Xi and Yang Jinghua.
Reading up to this part if you think I am a Japanese anime hater then...*sighs*. Please read the whole thing again.
I like the Japanese dub of Link Click but there was a c*** in the comments who said "uwu it's not in japanese so I won't watch it" b**** doesn't even understand Japanese. B just wants an 'authentic Japanese anime experience.'
I feared that tbhx would face this issue.
And if you find those people who go : Ahhh, Japanese or Chinese- same thing, even their script look similar- fuck you, fuck you, you loser-fuckrr sinophobe i hope your phone battery dies your charger malfunctions your phone your laptop restarts with all data erased I hope you reek of wet socks and your taste sand all the time fuck you
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evamame · 4 days ago
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for @pomigranit | event master post ☀️
watching the sunset with ushijima
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the evening is quiet and still but comforting nonetheless—the same way all things are with ushijima. watching the sunset is something surprisingly enjoyable for a person like him. it’s mundane and feels like it should be a waste of time for someone so calculated and precise, but he finds it to be nothing of the sorts.
you’re seated on the sand, the ground beneath you still lingering with warmth from the day left behind but slowing cooling down under the darkening sky. the water brushes against your feet every now and then as gentle waves crash down and travel to the shore. your hands interlace, ushijima running his thumb across your knuckles in a mindless motion that still feels so deliberate and intentional with him—like every glide of his finger is perfectly calculated in that way where he just knows. he knows how to love you like it’s his god given gift.
his body brushes against yours as he lets go of your hand and moves to wrap his arm around your shoulder. he pulls you closer to him, tracing circles on the soft fabric of your top.
you lean your head on his shoulder in thought. “‘toshi?”
he hums in response without taking his eyes off of the orange sky. a soft gust of wind passes by and blows your hair around.
“why do you love watching the sunset so much?”
he thinks through his response for a moment as if his answer to your small question is the most important matter in the world. “i don’t. not really. only with you,” he says, words curt in that way where you know everything he says is nothing but his true feelings.
you don’t say anything back, so he takes it you don’t really understand what he means. he leans his head on top of yours as he pulls you even closer against his side. his voice drops to a low murmur, his breath tickling your scalp. “you know, the sunset reminds me of you.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head like a seal for his words. what he says lingers like the feeling of his lips on you.
you smile. ushijima can be really sappy even by just simply saying what he thinks. “does it?”
he just nods, his cheek rubbing against your hair. he doesn’t elaborate any further—knows he doesn’t have to. he doesn’t give you a detailed story, because as in life, and especially with ushijima, many things just are. when the sun dips lower beyond the horizon, you take in the warmth from his skin that creeps up from under his shirt and the salty smell of the ocean that sticks to everything on him.
he never stops running his hand over your shoulder as you sit there in silence—the kind that doesn’t feel empty but rather whole in that comforting and grounding way that’s so ushijima. eventually the sky fades from its golden hue, turning into a beautiful deep blue with white speckles of stars. he doesn’t let go of you when you walk home, but doesn’t say much either. he just is, in that beautiful way that’s him and all for you.
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© evamame 2025. all rights reserved. please do not repost, modify, steal, plagiarize, or translate my work.
tags: @scoupsworld @mires765 @amaliaaliena @nanasrkives @frozen-waffle
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heavens-crown · 4 months ago
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And The Were Neighbors PT.3
A/N: There is a brief description of prior domestic violence, it is not graphic details but is talked about
Warnings: Angst, mention of DV, minor wound care
Master list
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“It’s a date.”
When the door to his apartment shut behind him Robby had to lean against it for support. He couldn’t remember the last time he had spent time with a woman like that, especially one who just seemed to get him. Groaning, he scrubbed his hands over his face. He needed to get it together, he was acting like a horny teenager. Spending half the night trying to fight off an erection had not been in his horoscope for the day he was sure. 
“Get it together,” He muttered to himself. Stalking into the kitchen he grabbed a protein bar and sat heavily on his couch. Apparently peace was too much for him to ask for because the moment he sat down his mind assaulted him with image after image of Delilah. Before his mind could continue to perverse everything his new found friend did his phone began ringing. Grateful for the distraction he grabbed it from the coffee table and answered it. 
“Where the fuck do we get the physical patient sheets?” It was Jack, Robby’s coworker and begrudged best friend. 
“Well hello to you too. I’m doing great thanks for asking.” Robby chuckled hearing Jack’s annoyed huff. “Check in the filing cabinet near my desk. They should be in there if not I got no idea.” 
“All the computers decided now was the best time to just shut down and not work and shit is just crazy here,” Robby could hear him shuffling through papers while he grumbled under his breath. “Found them, thanks brother.” With that Jack hung up. 
Robby shook his head in amusement, he was used to Jack being rather prickly so the attitude didn’t bother him much. Now that it was silent again in his apartment Robby’s mind began to wander again and this time he didn’t stop it. Christ he was a dirty old man, he had no business wondering how soft her skin was. Or how she’d look spread out underneath him while he worked his way down her body. As his mind continued to wander a thought struck him, making him grab his phone. She had mentioned her art blog where she advertised her work, she had even given him the name of it in passing since it was apparently a joke of some kind. 
It didn’t take him long to find it, and when he did he felt a flush work its way up his neck. The profile picture was her alright and when he began scrolling through the posts he damn near threw his phone. The first post that popped up was an art piece she recently finished, tentacles held a woman who looked eerily like Delilah in the air. The woman's legs were spread open and even though it was blurred he could tell the tentacles were in between her thighs, while another one was shoved down her throat. Fucking christ, Robby thought as he continued to scroll through the posts. She hadn’t been kidding when she had warned him about how graphic they could get. One post in particular caught his attention. In the description was a link to a secondary blog that was apparently for all her explicit work. Before he could stop himself he had clicked the link. 
A full hour had gone by the time Robby had finally found the willpower to put his phone down. Apparently the second blog was more of her personal art along with random things she wanted to post at will. When it wasn’t monsters and women it was one particular character drawn in various scenarios. His first look through the blog he had failed to notice the captions and tags on each post but when he went back through his breath had hitched.
-I just want to be someone's toy. Is that too much to ask for?
That caption had been with another drawing of the character she seemed to favor bent over a couch. A fist was bunched in her hair pulling her head back while the other hand gripped her hip holding her in place. Robby’s gut had twisted when he’d seen the caption and he had to stop himself from picturing him and Delilah in that pose. He groaned when he felt his dick throb and laid his head back against the couch. He was a grown man and he should have better self control. A minute passed with no signs of his hard on going away before he groaned and shoved his hand down his pants. Hopefully Delilah never found out that her neighbor was jerking himself off to thoughts of her. 
Delilah busied herself with finishing up a makeshift breakfast while trying to ignore just how horny she was. After Robby had left she had tried to sleep and when she failed at that she had tried to masturbate since that usually helped her sleep. Spoiler: it hadn’t worked. Even using her favorite vibrator hadn’t done jack besides make her over stimulated. So she wasn’t in the best of moods but at least she had cinnamon rolls and fruit to look forward to. Her phone dinged, pulling her attention away from the fruit she was chopping. Before she knew it she had sliced her finger instead of the cantaloupe.
“Fuck!” She yelped. Dropping the knife she grabbed a tea towel and wrapped it around her finger. Tears welled in her eyes as the wound throbbed. Her morning was looking like a real shit show, a few tears rolled down her face as she attempted to survey the damage done to her finger. Before she could there was a knock at the door. With a sniffle and attempt at wiping her Delilah made her way to the door, opening it to Robby standing there. He was all smiles until he saw the tears and her clutching the towel to her hand. 
“Jesus are you ok? What happened?” Robby pushed himself into her apartment gently cradling her hand. He peeled back the tea towel as she explained what had happened. Delilah sniffled as more tears gathered in her eyes. She knew she was crying from more than just the cut, everything was threatening to overwhelm her. 
“I’m sorry for crying so much,” She muttered as he continued to survey the damage. Frowning at her he pressed the towel back to her hand. 
“Why are you apologizing? You’re hurt it’s natural to cry when you get hurt,” He brushed some of her hair out of her face. “Sit on the couch, I'm going to grab my first aid kit. Thankfully you don’t need stitches.” Before she could argue with him he was herding her to the couch and only left once she had sat down. When he returned he sat on her coffee table directly in front of her. His legs bracketed hers as he grabbed supplies out of it. Once he had what he needed pulled on a pair of gloves before gently pulling her hands towards him.
“I’m gonna clean around the cut just to get some of this blood off. Once that's done I'm gonna put these butterfly bandages on it ok?” When she nodded her consent he started cleaning off her hand. “I’m going to use this mild antiseptic solution, it’s gonna sting a bit.” When it did begin stinging Delilah winced.
“Shit you weren’t kidding,” more tears gathered as she tried to not flinch away from him.
“I know I'm sorry just hold still a moment longer,” Robby said as he finished up cleaning the wound. When she took in a shaky breath he gave her a warm smile. “That’s it good girl, take in nice deep breaths for me.” Delilah prayed to whatever higher being there was that he didn’t notice her squeeze her thighs together at his ‘good girl’ comment. Jesus she was a wreck, she shouldn’t be lusting after her neighbor while he bandaged her up. 
“I’m sorry again for crying,” She said softly. “I think it was just sort of a straw that broke the camel's back. Things haven’t  been great up to me moving here.” Robby finished applying the bandages to her finger. He didn’t let go of her hand as he studied her face. 
“If you want to talk about it you can. I’m a really good listener," he offered. His thumb was rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand while his other hand gently cupped her wrist on her non injured hand. She hesitated for the briefest moment, but seeing the sincerity in his eyes and the way he didn’t push her to share anything made her crack. 
“I have this ex, we met when I was 19 and he was 29. My parents had just died and I was an emotional wreck. He made me feel important and showered me with gifts, it's why when he suddenly criticized anything I did or got in my face during an argument I didn't immediately see what was happening,” Delilah paused, taking a shaky breath. “When I was 21 he started hitting me. It just escalated from there until two years ago he threatened to kill me if I left him. My friend Cherry managed to convince me that he’d kill me even if I stayed so I packed a bag with anything important and I left.” 
“Delilah,” Robby started. 
“You don’t have to say I'm sorry or anything, I know people tend to feel a little uncomfortable at first when I talk about this stuff.” Another deep breath and she felt less shaken. “After I left I bounced around alot, never staying anywhere for long. It was only a year ago that I reactivated my blogs so I could go back to art commissions. Then about 3 months ago my grandma called saying that she was going into a nursing home here in Pittsburgh and she wanted me to be close by. So i decided fuck it, and moved here.” 
They sat in silence for a moment, Robby seemed lost for words and Delilah was just staring down at her hands still held in his. The timer on the oven dinged startling both of them. Laughing a bit Delilah pulled her hands out of his grip and went to stand. 
“That’s the cinnamon rolls, let me go get them before they burn,” she went to stand but Robby stopped her.
“I’ll get them you sit and rest,” He said. “Doctors orders.” Winking at her he got up and made his way into the kitchen. Delilah turned so she could watch him in the Kitchen. He moved around easily, pulling the tray of cinnamon rolls out of the oven and placing them on the stove to cool. He also put the bloodied knife and cutting board in the sink and washed them off. 
“I got the icing ready for the cinnamon rolls. So in a few minutes I can come in there and we can ice them up,” Delilah said, enjoying watching him move about. Robby shot her a mark glare, his fits on his hips. 
“What part of the doctor's orders do you not understand?” He scolded playfully. Making his way back to the couch he dropped down next to her and sighed as if she were a troublesome child. “Am I going to have to tie you to this couch to get you to sit still?” 
Oh my god, Delilah thought. Logically she knew he didn't mean it that way, but her brain still kicked into overdrive at the images that statement produced. He was smirking at her, as if thinking she wouldn’t clap back. Before she could stop herself she found herself talking. 
“My safewords ‘banana’ if you really want to play that game.”
Seeing the satisfied smirk on Delilah’s face damn near made his control snap. It took Robby a moment to get his thoughts together since he honestly hadn’t meant to threaten to tie her down, nor was he expecting her to say that. 
“Cat got your tongue?” She teases. Sitting back with a triumphant look on her face Robby makes a split decision. 
“Keep it up little girl, and i’ll put you over my knee,” it’s not a threat but a promise. He watches as her pupils dilate just slightly and a flush works its way up her face. It’s at that moment Robby has a lightbulb realization. She’s just as attracted to him, and fuck if that doesn’t make some of his self control start to fray. He’s leaning toward her about to say something completely inappropriate when all of a sudden his phone is blaring. Frowning he pulls it out of his pocket and he feels his stomach drop when he sees the message flashing across the screen. 
[MCI Alert: Pittsburgh PA - Train derailment]
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toeskater91 · 7 months ago
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Stobotnik Fic Recs
For a moment of positivity and sharing, see below for 10 Stobotnik Fic recs.
No fics in this post relate to the Sonic 3 movie.
Please make sure to take note of the tags and ratings if you click through to AO3 to ensure full positive curation of your reading experience. The recommendations vary from General up through Explicit ratings.
Doctor Robotnik makes good on his promise of being home by Christmas - it just took a little longer than expected, and home turned out to be someplace he hadn't considered.
Post Sonic 1 movie fic and Christmas/Holiday themed! I adore this one so much, I've re-read it so many times. The Doctor makes his way back to earth slightly before Christmas and ends up on Stone's new doorstep. The mortifying ordeal of being dependent on your former Agent and navigating how to handle the joy and boundaries of your boss you've greatly missed unexpectedly returning.
"I was actually happy when I found out what had happened to you. I looked you up against my better judgment, fully expecting you to have moved on immediately. Agent Stone, consummate professional, busy making lattes for some other genius." Stone snorted. "My number one attribute, huh?" "You know it. Only reason I kept you around," Robotnik said quietly.
Post Sonic 1 movie fic. Stone ends up imprisoned and Robotnik makes his way back to Earth with a side of rescue. I adore this one a whole lot and the Stone POV throughout is gorgeous.
You have that fanfic or series that takes a passing fandom interest and then once you read it, that interest is now stuck in your brain forever because of how profound an impact it had on you? That's this series and why my Stobotnik spiral really went into play.
It starts pre-film canon and goes through both both Sonic 1 and Sonic 2, then creates its own path for post Sonic 2. It provides such in-depth characterization and growth to both Stone and Robotnik as people and their relationship, its beyond amazing, especially how it weaves into the films as well. Total series is 286k words and my god, it is so, so, so, so, so worth the read. And the 16 parts allow for pacing and breaks.
The Doctor works himself to pieces each time he completes a project. His Agent puts him back together. A reflection on the creation-destruction process, homemade bread, and the intricate rituals of it all. (a.k.a. take an allegory, beat it dead.)
Pre-Canon / No Sonic movie direct interactions. Do you have that fic, that after you read makes you just sit there because of how profound and deep it hit you in your core? That you just sit there in wondered silence as you try and wrap your brain around it? That's this fic, the amount of pieces from the various chapters I want to quote and keep with me forever. The codependency between these two tied into the creative process of the doctor and its aftermath, beyond amazing.
In the process of removing the master emerald from Robotnik, Knuckles and Tails accidentally knock it into Stone's orbit. Or - in which Stone gets a turn with the emerald after Robotnik, and the two them have some time to chew the scenery (and also take out so many G.U.N. goons), because we deserved to see them fight side-by-side longer.
Sonic 2 canon divergence, Stone gets to take a spin with the emerald. Love to see our Agent get a turn to be awesome and deadly.
Before he even met Doctor Robotnik, Agent Stone understood the undeniable rules of being his, and truly, he was his. There was a sense of belonging that came with being around the Doctor as a whole, and it was not one of compassion or comfort like one may feel in a domestic partnership. No, from the briefing he had been given on Robotnik, Stone understood that he would no longer be property of the government once he was assigned to him. Instead, he would be Robotnik’s and Robotnik’s alone, no longer his own, yet nothing to Robotnik either. To the Doctor, he was an object to use and dispose of as he saw fit, and most days, even less. That was rule one.
Pre-Canon / No Sonic movie direct interactions. This fic has amazing pacing and growth. Starts with Stone beginning to work for the Doctor and how they change and grow as his time in this role extends on. This is a beautiful fic that I've given several re-reads. This has some amazing banter and attitude from them both.
Robotnik's very first romantic attachment left him bruised and apathetic towards the concept as a whole, warping his own perception of what it means to take part in any kind of emotional relationship. Thirty years later, he takes a chance on Agent Stone who, with patient hands and raw physical attraction, slowly coaxes Robotnik out of his cybernetic shell and into a whole new world of surprisingly mundane exchanges. Or: that one series where they date like normal people rather than the top secret government assets that they are while making a mockery of the entire country.
Pre-Canon / No Sonic movie direct interactions. I adore this series and how the author portrays Stone and Robotnik. How they growt throughout their relationship and the way they communicate and play off each other is wonderful. Part 5 is Christmas/holiday themed as well.
This is about a lot of things. This is about names and what they mean, this is about the weight of inheritance, this is about bakeries and newspapers and coffee. About homes and lawns and demolished grain silos. This is about a building in Northwest Oregon. This is about Robotnik. This is about Stone. Alone together. or: in less flowery language, its a series of snapshots of robotnik's lab across the years. the way robotnik used to be very alone in it, and the way he eventually wasn't.
Pre-Canon / No Sonic movie direct interactions. This is such a uniquely structured fic, bouncing through multiple times and building the history of the land where the lab that the Doctor works in will / does stand and how they come to work together
Stone's primary objective in life is to keep Robotnik safe and alive, at any cost. Time to find out what the universe is charging him.
Sonic 2 fic with Canon Divergence. Time travel and loops where Stone is determined to ensure the doctor is safe and he can protect him. The time loops and travels are done in such an amazing way as Stone keeps trying, trying, trying. Has a happy ending.
A Doctor for Christmas: The (Not A Hallmark Movie) by EmperorHaruhi
When (former) Canadian hockey player Aban Stone and (current) German Doctor Ivo Robotnik are trapped together in the town of Green Hills, Montana, three days before Christmas by an ice storm, the pair butt heads almost immediately. Can Stone melt the doctor's icy exterior and find the man lurking within? Will Robotnik discover Stone's dark secret, and how will he react? This Christmas, the Hallmark channel (does not) present: A Doctor For Christmas - An international, multi-lingual rom-com for the ages.
Hallmark movie Alternate Universe (AU) fic. This one is beautiful and such a fun spin on these two meeting as strangers thanks to the airlines being struck by the effects of winter weather.
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shares-a-vest · 1 year ago
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Just a Shirt (Read on ao3)
wc: 1.9k | Rated: T | cw: Mild descriptions of Steve's s4 injuries (mostly the scar on his neck), Hospital mention, Brief mention of nightmares
Tags: Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington Needs a Hug, Post s4 Fix-it (Everyone Lives), Hellfire, Fluff and Angst (Happy Ending), Love Confessions, Injury, Cuddling
Eddie makes Steve a customised Hellfire shirt, just for him. Based off this ficlet/headcanon. But the BIGGEST thank you goes to @tangerinesteve (formally babydollbaron) for their incredible tags below. They gave me the biggest and softest brainworms. I hope I did your wonderful ideas justice!
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“Here-p,” Eddie mumbles, pushing a too-neatly folded shirt into Steve’s hands.
“Uh, thanks,” his boyfriend hums, quirking a brow in confusion.
Eddie shrugs the whole thing off for good measure because it’s just a shirt – that’s all it is.
... But not really.
Like, at all.
He looks away, avoiding Steve’s gaze. While their relationship isn’t too new for gifts, it might be too fresh for a t-shirt that screams, ‘You are part of me and I can see that you are in pain and I think I can fix it. Nay, I need to make you comfortable’.
Yeah… it’s perhaps a little too premature for something that says all that.
So Eddie looks at the floor, his beige sock blending into the similarly-coloured carpet that lines Steve’s bedroom. His foot really only looks like an actual foot and not a patch of carpet thanks to the hole in his sock that is currently exposing his pinky toe.
It’s just a shirt, he desperately reminds himself as he catches Steve unfurling it out of the corner of his eye.
It’s just a shirt.
A customised Hellfire shirt he made especially for Steve.
One that is two sizes too big, made of the softest cotton and led to an emptying of his wallet to obtain. A Hellfire shirt that has short sleeves and a loose, scooped neck Eddie fashioned himself after borrowing a sewing book from the library. A neckline he sewed on Mrs Pemberton’s machine after crossing the trailer park and answering a slew of questions from an all too inquisitive Max Mayfield.
It’s a Hellfire shirt in its logo only – despite what his friends might think. Or the fuss all his pea-brained lost little sheepie buddies kicked up along the way.
They have been a total nightmare these past few weeks, scheming and plotting and sabotaging like a little hoard of gremlins. But Eddie supposes he can really only blame himself.
He should have never said anything, never asked Gareth for the original master copy of the Hellfire logo he knows his best friend keeps filed away in secret on the rare occasions they let in new members. Or to get new t-shirts printed in instances of spilled beverage-based stain emergencies. But then Gareth of course squealed to Jeff, who teased Eddie mercilessly before blabbing to Freak, who, well… Freaked about the possibility of a jock joining Hellfire.
The shock. The horror! Oh, the humanity!
And then came what was nothing short of a campaign via Dustin, Mike and Will, all collectively working to not only prevent Eddie from something he wasn’t even going to do in the first place but to also create a drama so seismic that rumours got around the whole of Hawkins that one Eddie Munson would no longer be running his little ‘demonic’ social club.
Or at least that’s what Wayne said Ernie at the plant had told him that his son had said.
The only thing is, Eddie feels more than a little sorry for Lucas Sinclair, a kid now sulking around, utterly crestfallen that his favourite Laundry Basket Friend isn’t also secretly a full-blown nerd.
It’s just that Eddie wanted to give Steve a nice, soft, comfy shirt he had hoped he would look at just like he is right now.
Besides, Steve had admitted that he liked the Hellfire logo months back when they first started dating. Told Eddie it was, “So creative, man”, after expressing some mild disappointment that he hadn’t shown up for their first date wearing it.
He smiles at the memory, Steve’s eyes lighting up as soon as he hopped into the Beemer, far too eager to head off to Benny’s Diner that he hadn’t even bothered to let Steve chivalrously walk up to the front stoop of the new and improved Casa de Munson.
“Eddie…” Steve says, his voice just above a whisper and sounding just as soft as the too-important shirt in his grip.
“Don’t worry,” he snorts, “I’m not making you join or anything it’s just… You said you haven’t been sleeping well…”
He gestures with his hand, searching for the right words. Better words that won’t sound so monumental and weighted as Steve’s eyes trail right along the shirt’s scooped neckline.
The hem is probably a little flimsy, but hopefully, Steve won’t fucking claw at it like the old Tigers gym shirt he almost tore in two a few weeks back after bolting upright in a sweat after a nightmare. That is what did it – really set Eddie on his mission. Seeing Steve’s sniffles turn to tears and how he tried to hide them away, shrugging Eddie off before rushing to the ensuite bathroom.
He had come back a few minutes later, eyes red as he hugged his arms across himself, appearing small and frightened but acting cold as ice.
“Yeah…” Steve nods before mouthing what appears to be the word, “soft”, as he balls the fabric between his fingers.
“Hell, I know you haven’t been sleeping,” Eddie continues to ramble, “Just… tossing and turning. Also your… Y’know…”
He gestures to his own neck, referring to the still-reddened scar around Steve’s. One that Eddie knows leaves his throat scratchy and hoarse at the slightest provocation. A mark that nosey townspeople gawk at when Steve is at work, leaving him all embarrassed and well, not like Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington at all.
And Steve hadn’t even told Eddie about that part. Nope. He found out from Robin, who swung by the mechanic one afternoon, inconsolable about her best friend spending their shift at Family Video hidden away in Keith Anderson’s stinky loser palace of an office.
“Mhmm,” Steve nods, pursing his lips.
Eddie knows he isn’t mad – it’s just something his boyfriend doesn’t talk about. That he doesn’t like talking about.
He needn’t ramble anymore, really – fill the silence between them or attempt to explain himself because, in a flash, Steve slips off his tight-fitting navy polo and replaces it with his new Hellfire shirt.
And Eddie can’t help but beam at a job well done.
It hangs nicely. Loose enough to sleep in, but not billowing so much to swallow that physique entirely. The neckline sits just where he had hoped too, much lower than the regular Hellfire shirts, scooped below Steve’s collar bones so that even if it stretches in his sleep, it couldn’t possibly pull and tug at his scar.
It’s perfect.
Exactly what he wanted to give Steve, who looks down at the devilish, very metal logo – a sight that is sure to scare off his snooty parents for good if they ever see it.
Before he knows it, Steve lunges for him and Eddie feels his cheeks squish against his boyfriend’s hands as he is kissed.
And kissed.
And kissed some more.
Kisses that last for long enough and grow softer with every peck that Eddie soon feels his legs buckling and he forgets altogether what they are even doing up here, in Steve’s bedroom, in the middle of the day on a warm summer afternoon.
It’s just the he –
“ – I love you,” Steve smiles when he comes up for air and – 
His eyes blow wide in an instant.
And Eddie is sure his own do too – maybe even pop right out of his goddamn skull with an audible gasp in there somewhere as well as they both fully realise what has just been said.
Steve loves him?
Just the same as he loves Steve. So much that he is blurting it out now, in the middle of his bedroom on a warm, mid-summer afternoon – perhaps months too early when they are probably, most likely still in the honeymoon phase.
All because of one perfect t-shirt.
Steve’s brow pinches together and his jaw goes slack as he looks away.
“I…” he trails off, drumming his fingers on Eddie’s shoulders.
“Stevie...” he tuts, smiling back at him.
He steps closer still, closing any remaining space between them as he loops his arms around his partner’s middle and squeezes him tight.
Eddie backs them a step back, then another. Then another until he is at a safe enough distance to rock Steve back and collapse onto the bed.
They fall with a conjoined, “Hmphf” – one that knocks the wind out of Eddie’s already breathless lungs and has Steve momentarily distracted away from whatever inner turmoil he had going on a moment ago. As he lands on top of his boyfriend, Eddie gets a feel of the shirt, now warmed by Steve’s permanently hot body temperature. A feeling that makes it seem even softer.
Like it is already worn in and loved.
He wants to ball a handful of it up in his fist and never let go.
But Eddie forces himself to sit upright, settling down in a straddled position to hover over Steve’s clothed form. He smiles down at the sight beneath him, his giddiness short-lived and quickly fading as a big, brown and now glistening set of panicked eyes return.
“Stevie,” he whispers, running his hand up Steve’s torso.
He ghosts his fingers with a featherlight touch over the printed logo, an illustration he had first scribbled on the back of his math book in his junior year.
Eddie leans forward and takes Steve’s hands, clasping them tight and one by one, he brings them to rest above his head where his super-soft signature swoop is sticking every which way, mussed by the bedspread.
He can’t help but chuckle a little at the sight – momentarily giving into the greedy feeling he gets when he thinks about how this Steve is the one he gets all to himself.
But Steve frowns, those expressive brows looking positively pained now as if only one thing could possibly soften them.
“I love you too,” Eddie says, freeing a hand to delicately pluck at Steve’s loosened neckline, “Obviously.”
“You do?” Steve asks.
Eddie nods as a visible relief washes through Steve’s eyes, leaving his brows to soften up so much he wonders if his boyfriend might now cry.
And before he can say or do anything more, Steve bolts upright, once again leaving Eddie feeling winded and more than a lot flushed this time as he wraps his arms around him and buries his face in his neck, snuffling close like the world’s cuddliest puppy.
They stay like this for a long while, simply breathing in sync as they hold each other. And soon Steve begins to sink, his body going lax as his head slips down onto Eddie’s shoulder.
“I really wanna sleep,” he hums as tears seep through Eddie’s own plain black t-shirt.
“You wanna try now?” Eddie offers, pulling back enough to give an encouraging little smile.
Steve nods, refusing to let him go as they lower down together as one, his eyes fluttering shut when his head meets the bedspread.
“Wanna get all cozy under the covers?” Eddie continues, nudging at the bedding.
He really doesn’t want to move too much more – not when Steve looks like this.
Relaxed.
Loved.
Comfortable and wrapped up in a softness Eddie would like to keep him cocooned in forever.
But as he always does, Steve moves for them and rolls to the side. He snuggles in close, burrowing his head between the crook of Eddie’s neck and the mattress all protected and safe. Eddie palms around for the blanket and haphazardly wraps what sliver of it is free around them, shielding his partner a little more for good measure.
It’s good like this.
Calm. Warm.
Soft.
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gentrychild · 2 years ago
Note
O great Owl and thou noble fic-finding rats I come because I have failed to find that which I need.
There is a work, apart of your Anyone universe, where Izuku is writing a Quirk Analysis Paper and he wakes AfO up so he can see a mutation quirk which enlarges AfO's arm. I have combed through all of Anyone and then through your side works that take place in this universe. But I found nothing.
The only thing I can think is that it was a tumblr post or a fanfic one of your blog mates wrote for you. But alas, I am still here.
In exchange I swear that if my firstborn ever starts stealing quirks I will buy all the therapists, and if that fails I will leave him to your fic-finders with no rivers in sight. And they may nibble on him for all of forever.
With reverence and sincerity, -me
I have some bad news and good news for you. The bad news is that his is something I wrote and posted on Tumblr, and you will never find it again even if you scroll through the entire Anyone tag. The good news is that you must be especially lucky as I found it by pure luck in a file I had forgotten.
----------
Izuku, sitting on his bed, books and notebooks opened on all of its surface, clicked his pen. Once, twice, thrice, the sound echoing in the silent apartment without doing anything to bring the answer the teenager desperately needed.
Usually, deadlines weren’t a problem for him. For some obscure reasons, the teachers in his high school were trusting him no matter what he did and forging his mom’s signatures to excuse his many absences had become the routine. However, he needed to finish this paper for tomorrow morning, so Hebisuga could read it and save her grade in Meta Analysis. That way, she would stop worrying so much about this subject, focus back on her Japanese, and write once again her ridiculously good flash cards that she always accepted to share with Yuuto and him.
But right now… Izuku’s brain just wasn’t cooperating.
He got up, his back protesting as he stopped hunching over for the first time in a couple of hours, and he left his bedroom. His notebook in hand, he walked past the bathroom and knocked at the door of the master bedroom, currently invaded by the bane of his existence while his blissfully ignorant mother was away.
The door opened in the second, All for One appearing in front of him, his hair messy and his face showing the trace of the pillow but no sign of sleepiness. The villain was one of those persons who immediately passed from sleep to alertness while Izuku needed three cups of coffee to be semi-conscious.
“What is it?” the villain asked. “Did you-“
“Show me your mutation quirks, please. Preferably the one that can offer some kind of protection.”
“What makes you think that-“                                                                       
Izuku clicked his pen once again and just stared at the quirk-stealing-fiend.
All for One finally obliged, making his arm grow in size, muscles growing until it had gruesomely swollen up, and he even added some spear-like bones. Bewildered, he answered every questions Izuku had about the drawbacks, the weight, how much he could still move his arm, and so on.
Because if analyzing quirks was his passion and could become a job, words in a book didn’t mean anything to Izuku. He needed to ask questions, to make theories, to see them in action.
Once he was done and had all the elements he needed, he thanked All for One and walked back to his room without offering any explanation. But of course, his roommate didn’t need one.
“Did you just use me to finish your homework? At three AM?”
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lilacxquartz · 11 months ago
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OVERWORKED
a jujutsu kaisen & mob psycho 100 crossover
summary: satoru gojo visits seasoning city to look into the reports of strange cursed activity and gets an audience with the world's greatest psychic, reigen arataka.
a/n: i don’t usually post general works or character & character fics on tumblr, but hey, there’s a first time for everything.
tags: crossover, general, no pairings, crack, attempt at humour, one shot, silly, prompt fic • w.c: 1.1k
Seasoning City was never a place that Satoru thought he would find himself in, but there he was; keen to investigate some sort of rumoured unusual cursed activity reported within the area.
Sometimes he’d go and investigate these claims by himself, although mostly it was just to get the higher ups off of his back and especially so that his students (that the responsibility would otherwise be handed to) wouldn’t unknowingly waltz into potential danger.
Besides, Seasoning City has been a jujutsu curiosity for a while now, with all sorts of strange ongoing issues within the vicinity and an investigation was due.
Upon arriving at the site in question, Satoru strolled into an abandoned high rise office building and scoped the whole area out. He could pick up on the trace activity or something, but he wasn’t quite sure what exactly. With curious eyes, he scanned the area and inspected as much as he could before he heard the door crash open, practically swinging off the hinges.
Turning back, he was interrupted in the process by a man with an ill-fitting suit and fiery orange hair. A younger boy dressed in regular school uniform seemed to tag along beside him and although the third presence slipped away just in time to avoid being seen, he could have sworn that he spotted some sort of stink cloud shaped (and coloured) shikigami wafting nearby.
“Worry not, it is I, the great psychic—Reigen Arataka!” the man announced before striking a victorious pose.
Getting absolutely zero read on this guy’s technique and doubting that he even had one to begin with, Satoru couldn’t help but wearily sigh at the company he found himself in.
“A psychic? Oh boy,” Satoru mumbled to himself before adopting a louder volume, “you can stand aside, I’ll take it from here.”
“Pardon me,” Reigen interrupted while rolling his eyes, taking wide footsteps as he confidently strolled over to the white haired man, “you’re the one who should be excused, for I will be the one to solve this haunting.”
“You don’t look like someone who knows jujutsu,” Satoru mused, taking notes of his lack of… everything. The man had zero cursed energy and no technique, therefore he likely didn’t even know what he was looking for.
“Ju-what now?” Reigen blinked while somehow still maintaining that smug expression on his face.
The mop haired boy beside him attempted to answer although his voice was rather quiet, “It’s a type of—“
Promptly interrupting the teen however, Reigen continued to talk, “Watch closely Mob. I’ll show you what a real master looks like.”
Satoru couldn’t help but twitch his eye below his blindfold, astounded by the strange so-called psychic’s audacity. With an almost exasperated gaze, he watched as the man moved around erratically and punched the air, kicking nothing with determined, miscalculated strikes.
In the meanwhile, the actual malevolent cursed spirit showed up right behind him. It appeared to take on the spirit of a tired salaryman, echoing a mantra of jarring words that were just barely coherent through its shrill cry.
“Overtime~! Time is money~! Work work work~!”
While Reigen continued to remain oblivious and make a spectacle of himself, Mob stepped forward and moved his hands to channel his energy, making the whole floor rumble as he focused on the task at hand.
Such display of power didn’t go unnoticed by Satoru, who watched the boy work with what he was very certain was in fact cursed and energy before funnelling it towards the cursed spirit, making quick work of it and weakening it significantly.
Impressed, Satoru then finished off the spirit with his own hands and exchanged a glance with the boy before sighing wearily, noticing that the fraud was still going at it and swatting away at nothingness.
“Hey, you can stop now,” he told Reigen in a resigned manner.
“Yes, we took care of it,” Mob added on.
Stopping mid swing, Reigen took a deep breath before responding, “…It’s gone?”
Nodding, Satoru folded his arms and couldn’t help but softly laugh at the whole situation. A psychic? He knew that there were frauds who had a vague understanding of the world around him, but this guy was something else.
“That’s right,” Satoru confirmed before considering a point, “you know, this kid has quite a lot of talent actu—“
Immediately cutting him off, Reigen burst forward with a victorious cheer, “—aha! You see? The spirit didn’t stand a chance against my special technique: kneading air!”
“Come again?” Satoru blinked. ‘Special technique?’ Did he mean cursed technique or did he truly think that what he did was some sort of attack? The man’s unwavering confidence almost tortured Satoru’s own mind.
“By pushing the air around with my movements, I was able to direct my student’s psychic energy into defeating the spirit,” Reigen began to explain, “and of course my star pupil managed to finish it off.”
“Actually he finished the spirit off,” Mob replied, pointing his figure towards the other man.
“Yeah?” Reigen flicked a glance towards his direction. “Not bad, blindfold. I can sense a lot of potential in you. A little bit amateurish, but not bad. Not bad at all.”
Satoru couldn’t help but just stare at Reigen, feeling more and more worn out by the second. Before he could even say anything in response, Reigen quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out a small business card and scribbled something on it with a pen that he had otherwise materialised out of nowhere.
Handing it over to Satoru, he dramatically extended his arm. “Here you go, bud. An autograph from the greatest psychic alive. Don’t say I never did anything for ya.”
Taking the card, he glanced at the hastily scribbled out signature. He tried to form a response as he mulled the whole situation over, but was quite literally left speechless.
After a moment, he turned over to Mob who didn’t offer a single word of explanation—just standing by the strange man’s side with a blank look on his face—as if everything was perfectly fine and normal.
“Is he always like this��?” Satoru finally asked with an almost wary tone.
Mob nodded, “Yes, he’s my boss.”
Satoru nervously laughed at that response. Boss? This kid who had an almost masterful grasp on cursed energy was the supposed employee of this conman?
That was concerning to say the least.
And as he watched the two exit the building, Satoru couldn’t bury that nagging worry that there might have been more unassuming people like Mob out there being mentored by the likes of Reigen.
Walking away himself, he glanced behind him one more time, watching the pair walk in the opposite direction.
Satoru couldn’t help but shake his head, feeling amused but also intrigued at the whole situation he just witnessed.
Maybe he would keep a personal eye on this city but especially on Mob.
Just in case.
main masterlist • ao3
prompt idea by @augustwritingchallenge • day 20: crossover/fusion for au-gust 2024
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daystobook · 8 months ago
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Separate the Art from the Artist?
I didn't know about the allegations before a person commented on my previous post, requesting me to put a disclaimer and/or remove his name's tag. I did both. And then I listened to the 6 series podcast.
I was in the middle of Neil Gaiman's masterclass. I was taking notes, doing exercises, and just generally getting inspired from the way he said and shared things—in his polite euphonious British accent, innocent and honest sounding voice—the stories he told about his own writing journey.
I was heart broken, angry, but also compassionate in that of a blessing—that may he find the right ways to acknowledge, accept, reflect, self introspect, share—the things he might not have dealt with about himself in a long time, maybe ever. From the accounts and the intricacies of all of the cases where women came out and shared their horrific experiences, I can't begin to believe that this has actually happened. I am still shocked, more than I ever have. I have never had an influence as strong as his over me as an aspiring writer. My girlfriend and I met and bonded over the stories he wrote on our first date.
I spent the whole day listening to the podcast series, I needed to know for myself. At the end of the day when I was done listening, I just hovered around my girlfriend's work desk in utter gloom and dejection. She hugged me. Then I shared with her, in summary of what made me sad after she asked, and after I told her that I wouldn't want to tell her. She said that when she had come across the news, she'd deliberately not gone into the details to prevent this sadness.
She asked me how I was going to go through the Master Class and its exercises now. I told her that I didn't know, but when some time would have passed, I'd read him again, but without the starry eyed pedestalization or being a fan. I'd read him purely for the craft, and nothing else. For now, I would not be able to read him. So I've resumed reading other things.
I really wish that he—if not to the world, which would be a tragedy and a travesty, then at least to himself privately—accepts that it is not okay, in any realm, to take advantage of stardom to blind other people into assuring, assuming or deciding consent for them. And that if he would ever be unsure, and especially if he'd be sure, to learn to ask, before coercing in the shadow of assuming that there are common feelings emerging for all parties, irrespective of any mental health problem he might be a victim of.
Terry Pratchett and other fantasy writers it is now. Back to Addie Larue.
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whirlerwhirler · 4 months ago
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my stage/fright thoughts!!!!!!
The two times (unless there were more!!) that Toby was onstage I knew it wasnt Reece, but by the time he was there for the second time I saw ("curtain call"), I had completley forgotten the first (opening theatre scene). The first time, I just thought i must have been wrong about it not being him after they switched, and then at the "curtain call" bit I thought "he has aged strangely in the past few minutes" lmao
Genuinely thought for a moment that Steve was gonna say his wife had died and I had missed an update before i put two and two together about the switch. Felt horrible 10/10.
I wonder if theres people out there who aren't that into the show or who dont know their faces well enough that they might have believed that they were watching a show without Reece in it when that was "revealed"?
LOVE Reece doing ridiculous physical comedy fuck OFF he's so good at it!!!! Chopping off his own leg????? Creepin round the stage in his pyjamas like a nasty lil gremlin?? He's SO FUCKING GOOD AT IT AND HE SHOULD DO IT MORE
I could never have imagined that Steve's character from AQNI, when allowed to speak, is literally just the icon that is Barry Baggs. Same voice, same manerisms, same loveable moron absolutley fuckin everyones plans up because he wants a snack. Perfection.
I had seen a spoiler 2 days ago - photos of them in their "Tears Of Laughter" costumes and thought they looked too much like angels for the twist not to be that they're both dead, which really pissed me off and I still maintain that that tumblr user who posted them is a n absolute dickhead because they spoiled the final twist and whole ending of the show. There are signs ALL OVER the theatre saying not to post anything online and no one else that I've seen literally in the whole fandom has posted untagged spoilers.
anyway
STEVE STEVE STEVE STEVE STEVE yeah u get it but let me say it more STEVEN JAMES ELIZABETH PEMBERTON THE MAN THAT U ARE. DONT EVEN START made me cry a lil even tho I knew Reece wasnt actually dead and just in general watching him perform anything is GLEEFUL AND JOYOUS AND HE IS A MASTER OF HIS CRAFT (BAFTA FOR BETTER MAN PLEASE)
I thought it had JUST the right amount of references to the series. Now that I think about it, it makes sense that they would do all of BCDR. They started all the TLOG live shows with a first act full of sketches from the TV show before doing something new, so it makes sense that they do the same here. And it makes sense that they would pick their most successful and beloved episode (one that paralells some of their own careers and relationship to an extent too). I always found the BCDR wasnt a particularly funny episode, all the puns and physical comedy was more charming and sad, and that was mostly due to Reece's performance and the writing of Tommy (Steve u are absolutley BAFTA worthy in most roles but for this particular episode it does kinda baffle me that Reece was overlooked because he is just so good in it). but actually being in the room with them, being performed to an audience as they were "written" to be was a completley different experience that has changed the episode for me i think!
Reece and Steve both canonically dead in the INo9 universe, or maybe even the extended pembersmith cinematic universe? maybe now they can write something where they dont end up playing themselves being haunted by their work and characters? if not who cares cos i love it when they do
the SET DESIGN!!! especially the hospital scene! its so fuckin visually engaging!
loved the use of the camera onstage, was a really fun device and incredibly well done!
i had heard the term "celebrity guest" in a tag about the show and expected maybe that they had like a guest onstage every few days or a new guest every week, but have just realised they have a new guest every day!!!! so cool to see how many people love their work and respect them to come out for a single evening of work with them, even people who werent already guest stars on the show. i didnt know our guest star, but she was funny and really engaging throughout her scene haha
oh to be a fly on the wall in their little office while they were writing this. "and what if youre dead all along? not your character, YOU. and i walk offstage crying and thank the audience for being so supportive of your understudy? and what if we make 90 different celebrity guests attempt a flamenco dance and a geordie accent on stage?"
spotted the hare ofc
LOVED the live violins!
i hope they do film it. i know with the celebrity guest thing no two shows are the same but i hope they have a specific guest in mind to film it with because i'd love to see it again and pick up on all the things i missed, plus there are people around the world who the live show isnt accessible to who deserve to be able to join in with the fandoms discussions and celebrations of it
anyway i'm very tired because ive done 6 hours of travelling today, the theatre seats were wildly uncomfortable and also i live underneath a crack den so i havent had a full nights sleep for 11 months, so thats all i have brain space for today! really enjoyed the show. so glad i got the tickets even tho it was a stupid financial decision lmao
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4veslil · 8 months ago
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Headcanons | Paul Lahote | You're Paul's SO and Neurodivergent
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A/N: Hello! I thought this would be a great way to introduce myself to tumblr! I am currently writing a slow burn Paul Lahote Fic but to engage with the Twilight Fandom more I decided to do this! If you are interested in my VolturiOC/Paul Lahote Fic though here's the link! This is my first time doing Headcanons but please bare with me! Also if you have any requests I am willing to write for every Twilight character for preferences, imagines (<1.5k words), blurbs, drabbles etc. I will NOT write smut, not comfy with it and even if I did put an dni, children aren't stupid, we all faked our ages online once upon a time. All I ask is dni if you are underage! This blog 18+ only! Thank you for clicking on this and hopefully, I will hear some requests soon! Without further ado, ENJOY! ★ MASTER LIST HERE ★ P.S. Bullet points with a * is based off my own ND. Hope you don't mind!
This is new territory for Paul so he does what he does best- panics, gets irritated that he's panicking; get's angry when he can't calm down; goes for a run before finally, finding himself sitting at a library computer (in that order).
He sits at the library for hours researching before he's got a notebook of information on neurodivergence and enough questions for you to find it endearing.
He also takes out a few books written by people with ASD and ADHD and reads them front to back before skimming through them again to take notes.
When you get back home he's ready and puts you in the hot seat.
By the end he knows the normal stuff like favourite foods, animal and colours but also the textures you avoid, your quirks, your favourite fidget toys, what makes you overstimulated; everything that makes you tick.
You woke up the next morning to Paul ripping the tags off all your clothes, letting you know he's ordered new pillows for the living room to replace the velvet ones; he also got reusable cotton pads for the bathroom.
He keeps a hairband on his wrist for when your hair tickles your neck and causes your tick*
Paul also ordered some special ear plugs. He gets multiple- one for your backpack, one for his car's glove compartment and one pair to have on his person.
Paul also asked what your favourite fidget toys are and did the same as the earplugs.
Paul got you matching keyrings with the same fidget toy attached. His is black and yours is your favourite colour.
Paul knows a diary, schedule or to-do list doesn't work with you. He makes household tasks sound like a secret Pack mission, he makes chores fun.
Paul makes sure to put post-its about the house, sets your reminders on his own phone and reminds you gently. He knows you getting annoyed at the reminders isn't personal.
He double (more like triple) checks his notebook before he gets you something.
All his gifts have something to do with your special interest
Any clothes he gets you have tags removed and washed with your favourite detergent before he gift wraps them.
Paul is more than prepared for a break down, he doesn't try to touch you during those.
He knows not to feel rejected when you flinch away or say no to a hug. He just smiles and makes sure not to be too loud or make sudden movements around you.
Paul asked about masking and he could tell you were lying when you said you don't mask around him.
Paul takes you hiking to a secluded place in the forest and phases into a wolf if you've had a bad week. He lets you lay on him and read, just so you can unmask and relax. You find it easier to unmask when he isn't human.
You can go quiet and Paul learns to get comfortable in the silence, silence used to be the calm before the storm, now he sees it as the storm passing by at a distance.
Paul knows you hate touching carboard that's been in the fridge or freezer, after food shopping you find he's opened everything and repackaged it.*
Paul speaks straightforwardly, his communication is clear, especially when it's important or knows you're already overstimulated/overwhelmed.*
When you meet the Pack Paul hates how confused you look when some of the banter goes after your head- he tells you not to force yourself to laugh, says he finds it funny when you don't humour the boys.
The Pack started taking advantage of things going over your head, when Paul pointed it out you shrugged it off because it was only a bit of banter.
Paul pretended to leave it but roughed up the Pack (more than usual) when they were sparring, or would accidentally ram into them while running.
The Pack say he's whipped when they see memories of Paul letting you pet him in wolf form.
At Christmas Jared gets you a pink collar with studs for him, teasing you of course. While you're confused (and distracted) Paul yeets it at Jared's head.
When he gives a gift- of course it's something from your latest hyper fixation.
You get overwhelmed at the Pack's beach hang outs. You are not familiar with everyone's imprints and you get anxious.
You both sit a little away from the Pack and their imprints, silently laying together or drawing in the sand.
Paul always makes sure you're included in the conversation when someone approaches.
He holds you tight in his arms when you're feeling agitated because he knows you like to be squeezed, it grounds you.
Of course, when he found this out he ordered you a weighted blanket.
Paul wants to know everything, all your likes and dislikes- what's safe and what's not.
Paul smiles ear to ear when you tell him he's listed in the "safe" category, he notes it down with a smug expression.
But his face (half-)teasingly drops when you joke he's a close second to your all-time, favourite movie character.
He loves how your mind works, sometimes out of the blue you'll say something so off topic and he'll make you explain where you got that- he's fascinated by it and how easily one thing links to the other.
When the bad days happen he makes sure to just be there, knowing not to touch you- that you just want him by your side.
On those days he makes all your safe foods and separates them on the plate based on your specific eating criteria. He doesn't entirely understand but doesn't tease you for it either.*
He shares your safe food list with Emily because he knows you get embarrassed about eating in public- you used to get teased about how plain and boring it was.*
He goes back to the public library to look up the quiet shopping hours at your favourite stores and what restaurants have your safe foods.
Paul wants to understand everything about you and where it comes from, he fills up one notebook after the after and doesn't let you peek inside.
You try to reason they're all about you so you should get to read them, he still refuses.
The day you finally manage to get a hold of his notebook, you close it after reading the first page. On it is written: "Notebook #3 - everything I know about future Mrs Lahote"
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x-bluefire-heart-x · 2 years ago
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Dance at a Feast
Happy New Year everyone! The good thing about having two weeks off from work is that I am able to get some writing done! I'm trying to get drafts done for a lot of fics I have plans for, so I can have some things to post when I go back to work.
Also, please feel free to make requests! I have a list of prompts which is linked below, and a master list that has the fandoms and characters I write for. If there is someone and a something not listed that would like to make a request for, feel free to and I will let you know if I know enough about it to write for it. Also feel free to make requests for this verse!
This is another part in the Covered in Steam verse. A fluffy piece between female reader and Thorin, it is set after Covered in Steam.
Warnings: Talks of a sexual nature. Dain being disrespectful - nothing insane just not acknowledging the reader as the Queen *yes I think this should be a warning*
Tag list: @catt-leya @bunson-burner
Master List
Prompt List
Covered in Steam
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You fiddled with the sleeves of your dress tugging them down before pulling them back up and then down again. You glanced at the mirror in Thorin’s, no your chamber you hadn’t slept in the chamber that was yours since that night. You wore a beautiful gown in the colours of the family of Durin, the blue almost matched that of your Kings eyes. Your hair had been left down showcasing the braids and beads that Thorin wove into it every morning. You were nervous, this was the first feast since you were behaving as a true married couple. And you didn’t want to do anything that would embarrass Thorin. Which was why you were concerned about the dress, the shoulders of the dress could sit normally or be pulled down to expose your shoulders and collarbones, and the plunging neckline was lower than what you normally wore but it worked the best with the necklace Thorin had gifted you with on the day you got married, and you hadn’t worn it yet.
“Sister?” you heard Dis’ voice call out from the sitting room next to the bedroom where Thorin received any guests that came to your chambers.
“In here!” you called back, shifting the bodice of the dress a little, unsure about the gauzy material that ran in panels down your ribs before forming into the princess style skirt.
“Oh my,” Dis whispered as she laid eyes on you. “I think you may very well kill my brother in that dress.”
“Is it too much?” you spun around eyes wide with concern as you smoothed down the billowing skirts. “It’s a normal style in my homeland but I know it isn’t overly common amongst the women here.”
“You look stunning my Queen,” Dis assured you as she came to stand in-front of you grabbing your hands. “You do not need to pretend as if the culture and norms of your homeland do not exist, my brother would not expect you to only dress as a dwarven woman.”
“I know he has told me as such, but I just don’t want to…embarrass him in-front of his court, especially since everything between us is still so new,” you nibbled your lower lip before yelping a little as Dis pinched your arm.
“You’ll ruin the makeup,”  
“Can’t have that can I?” you laughed, your nerves slowly leaving you in your sister in laws presence. Something she has always managed to do.
“Now, come on,” Dis tugged on you before stopping for a moment. “Wait, you are missing something.” She let go of your hand to go back to your dressing table and lifted the small crown from its resting place to put it on your head. “There.”
You lifted your hand to gently touch the crown as Dis went back to tugging you out of your rooms and towards the main banquet hall. You were still not use to wearing a crown, as you and Thorin both only tended to wear them when you absolutely had to. Such as at a feast welcoming Thorin’s cousin Dain. You could hear the celebrations before the door even came into view, you smiled. Dwarrow truly knew how to throw a feast and celebration.
“Introducing her Highness Princess Dis and her Royal Majesty Queen y/n,” the herald at the doorway announced both you and Dis causing the court to become quiet as Thorin stood from his chair and walked around the table that housed the royals. His eyes burned with a fire as he took in your appearance, you could feel the eyes of every dwarf on you as the king walked towards you and Dis quickly left your side to greet her sons. You could only guess the dwarf sitting on Thorin’s left was his cousin Dain, Lord of the Iron Hills. You briefly caught his eyes only to quickly break eye contact and focus on your husband. Dain had the same colour eyes as Thorin only his were cold and calculating, and you did not like the way he looked at you.
“My wife,” Thorin rumbled, this voice bouncing around the room. “You are a vision.”
You dropped into a small curtsy as your body warmed, your eyes locking onto his as you lifted your head back up. Thorin stepped closer to you to place a kiss upon your lips before gently taking your hand, guiding you to stand in-front of his cousin, who remained seated.
“Cousin, my wife, your Queen,” Thorin’s voice was hard as stone as he noticed the disrespect being shown to you. “Greet her.” Dain’s eyes narrowed before a friendly mask fell over his face as he stood and bowed low to you.
“It’s an honour to finally meet you, Your Majesty,” Dain’s voice didn’t sound overly pleased and you were concerned but you nodded back at him regardless, knowing now was not the time to raise concerns.
“And it is lovely to finally meet you Lord Dain, Thorin has spoken highly of you,” you responded voice soft, your eyes looking at a point over his shoulder as you didn’t want to look into his cold eyes again.
“Come my Queen, you must be hungry,” Thorin’s arm wrapped around your waist and led you away. You smiled gratefully up at Thorin raising on your toes to press your lips to his cheek in thanks. His arm squeezed you in kind, his eyes full of love as he stared down at you.
“Hello aunty mine,” Kili smiled up at you as you walked past. You grinned down at him, unable to resist messing up his hair. Kili pouted up at you as he tried to fix his hair, you dropped a kiss on his head in apology as you did the same to Fili as you walked past. Dis’s sons had been as welcoming as she had when you arrived, always smiling and including you, you were forever grateful for those three Durin’s.
“Aunty,” Fili smiled as you sat down beside him, Dis was in the middle of her two sons, who leaned around her oldest to smile at you. “Don’t worry about Dain. He’s a traditionalist but Uncle doesn’t pay any mind to those old dwarves.” Fili had lowered his voice and leant close to your side. His eyes, the same shade as his uncle was soft and kind as he looked at you. Your heart squeezed at his words.
“Thank you Fili,” you whispered back. “I will keep that in mind.”
“But, should he or any other dwarf look to cause you problems promise that you will let myself, my mother, Kili, Dwalin or Balin know. Of course Thorin should be your first choice but if you cannot find him, you also have us on your side,” Fili added squeezing your arm before letting go and focusing on his food.
You could hear the conversations going on around you as you picked at your food. You never ate much in-front of large crowds, but would always find a plate of food waiting for you in your chambers after a feast. You had always wondered who ensured the staff left it but never thought to investigate it too much.
“Are you alright love?” Thorin asked removing himself from the conversation with Dain to check on you. He had picked up on your added nerves after meeting Dain and wanted to do everything he could to be sure that you were fine.
“I am,” you nodded turning to give Thorin a smile but you could tell from the look on his face that he didn’t buy it. He leaned close enough to whisper into your ear.
“If I had known Dain would show such disrespect to my wife I would never had invited him here,” Thorin promised you. “Tell me at once if he ever does so again or makes you uncomfortable at all. Erebor if your home and you are the Queen.”
“You Durin’s and your need to protect,” you teased nudging your nose against his.
“Oh?”
“Fili just gave me a list of all the dwarves I can tell if Dain or any other dwarf causes me problems,” you explained. “It was pretty much you four and Dwalin and Balin.”
“Hmm,” Thorin hummed his eyes full of pride at your words. “Well, us Durin’s are fiercely protective of those we care about. And once we care for someone it is next to impossible to get rid of us. So I’m afraid my heart, you are stuck with me, and my sister and nephews.”
“Such an imposition that,” you laughed.
“You weren’t thinking I was an imposition this morning,” Thorin growled his eyes darkening as heat filled them. “With my tongue between your thighs.”
“Thorin,” you gasped in shock. “You can’t say things like that here.”
“I am the King,” Thorin shrugged kissing your lips and whispering his next words into your mouth. “I can say such things when I please. And no-one can hear us.”
You playfully glared at him about to say something back when Dain interrupted leaning around Thorin to gain his attention again, sending you a cold look before placing the mask back in place before Thorin could see. Thorin kissed you once more rounding on his cousin, you could hear the harshness in his tone as he spoke in dwarvish. You sipped at your wine, as music started to play, as it always does at a Dwarven feast. The boys beside you quickly stood up looking to find some partners to dance with, Kili raced off instantly looking for Ori. Fili however, hesitated, Dis had left seeking out Balin to discuss some matters.
“My Queen,” Fili said, his voice loud and pointed as he bowed low at his waist holding a hand out. “May I have a dance?”
You grinned up at Fili, standing up and reaching to take his hand but you were pulled tightly against a hard chest. Thorin’s scent surrounding you. Fili smirked, his eyes playfully challenging his uncle, as he continued to wait on your hand.
“My wife will be dancing with me first, nephew,” Thorin’s voice rumbled.
“I think Her Majesty can make that decision, Uncle,” Fili grinned.
“I am honoured Prince Fili,” you grinned, trying to keep your voice regal. “However, I would think you would prefer to seek out someone else to dance…and even maybe court?”
Fili’s face flushed bright red his eyes automatically going towards a dwarven woman that was standing off to the side near Bofur. The look in his eyes was similar to how Thorin would look at you and you knew that maybe you and Dis could do a little pushing.
“I mean…I can’t…” Fili stuttered in an uncommon show of nerves.
“Yes you can nephew,” you encouraged him stepping a little out of the circle of Thorin’s arms but he kept a hold of your hips. “I have seen that young woman look at you, in the same manner you look at her. You are a Durin, take the courage that all you Durin’s seem to possess in enough abundance to take on a Dragon and ask her to dance.”
You felt Thorin’s hands squeeze your hips and his lips pressed into your neck, you could feel the smile that tugged at them. You reached out to squeeze Fili’s hands, forcing his eyes back to yours. The red of his face had calmed down to a light pink.
“Right, yes, true,” Fili nodded.
“You are my heir Fili,” Thorin added reaching out to pat him on the shoulder. “You can do this.”
Fili nodded once more before he turned around and strode towards the woman in question. He forced the Durin swagger into his steps as the two of you watched him in amusement. Thorin tugged you close again turning you around, you smiled up at him wrapping your arms around his neck.
“So, that dance?” you asked. “Better make good.”  
“Come along then,” Thorin smirked. Pushing you backwards, you giggled turning around and taking hold of his hand and pulling him onto the space in the middle of the room that was used for dancing.
Thorin spun you around before tugging you close, wrapping his right arm around your waist and grabbing your right hand with his left, you placed your left hand on his shoulder. You allowed him to led you around the floor trusting him to keep you from backing into anyone. The tune was a fast past one, your skirt flying out every time he spun you around quickly. He grabbed both of your hips and lifted you up and turning the two of you before putting you back down and grabbing hold of your hand again to lead you around.
You giggled as your dress managed to hit Kili and Ori on your way past them, you threw an apology over Thorin’s shoulder causing the two young Dwarves to laugh. Thorin couldn’t take his eyes off of you, your eyes were bright with happiness and you had not stopped laughing and smiling since Fili had first asked you for a dance. Your face was flush from your wine and from the dancing, you had danced to two fast paced songs before a slow paced song started to play. Thorin wrapped both his arms around your waist pulling you as close to him as he could get you. You looped your arms around his neck, using one of your hands to tilt his head down, he grinned as he rested his forehead against yours and swayed the two of you in time with music.
“You truly do look beautiful tonight, my Lady,” Thorin whispered. “Seeing you in my colours, I wish to take you from this hall and feast on something else entirely.”
“My King, was this morning and last night not enough?” you asked, stroking the back of his neck, his thick hair covering your movements.
“I will never have enough of you,” Thorin answered. “I will never have enough of your taste, of your body, of you. I will always want you in my arms.”
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poppyfamily · 11 months ago
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Amangela Writer Appreciation Post!
I'm feeling a lot of things right now and I've decided to write what I like about my Amangela writer friends' writing. I often forget to leave comments on their work because they are GOOD at what they do, and I often forget I'm in the middle of reading good writing because it just exists (something something baby fish asks mommy fish where water is only to realize they've been swimming in it the whole time). Can you believe they do this for FREE? And share it with us just because they want to? They are GIFTS to the community.
It is such a privilege to be in the same creative sphere as these people and I need to express Emotions or regret not doing it. They inspire me everyday. Here is a public declaration of love, hope y’all are okay with that. Ramblings under the cut, because it goes without saying, this got really long.
@okiankeno is so imaginative with their writing. My Teeth, Your Neck is impressive with its incorporations of many elements that are familiar to Smosh and Amangela while throwing them into a fantastical, supernatural universe. I haven't watched Buffy, but their writing is so good at making this fantastical world feel lived in. The world just seamlessly slides into the way they write character motivations, making for strong characterization and dynamics that have me INVESTED. That Maia/Valerie twist? Screaming. Crying. Throwing up.
@babychosen is wonderful at dropping Amanda and Angela in situations optimized for maximum tension - which is clearly seen in first time that i met you (i didn't have a damn clue) and you could be bad (but i wanna find out). I love how she crafts her plots, keeping me at the edge of my seat for what comes next, which is driven forward by the way she writes dialogue - natural to the situation as it captures a range of emotions: awkwardness, uneasiness, attraction and just all the quirks that come with forming relationships. Her writing is so fun to read!
@sage-lights writes fics that are short and sweet, but they pack such a powerful punch. With just a few words, she's able to tell a story that contains the energy of a multi-chaptered fic. This is especially true in sometimes i hold you closer (just to know you're real). LIKE HELLO. I was on the road when I first read it and it had me spiraling for a good few hours. She also captures their voices very well. They also capture the tenderness of Amanda and Angela in such a specific way. One of my favorites is met you at the right time (this is what it feels like), capturing the intimacy of two women who earnestly love each other, beyond romance.
@xxsuicidalravenxx 's writing explores the inner turmoil of being drawn to someone while having a lot of insecurity about your own place in other people’s lives. You know I'm such a fool for you (you got me wrapped around your finger) captures something so incredibly real about the anxiety that comes with a murky and under-communicated relationship dynamic based on unfair assumptions about both herself and how Amanda feels about her - which ultimately is a reflection of Angela’s own self-worth which at this point isn’t the best. It’s so real, god - the self-sabotage and all that and slowly realizing that the people around her care more about her beyond whatever mistake she believes she’s made. Also just - all Chamangela dynamics are excellently written here. It’s a gift.
@unknownteapot is masterful at her craft. I've said it before - their writing is so cinematic.  I can see it clearly in my mind - so good at painting clear pictures of where the characters are in the story. It's dramatic, tension-filled and just excellent writing all around. Several minutes of my life have been spent reading her fics. I feel comforted whenever I read her stuff, it gives the feeling of hope - that things will be okay even when it doesn’t seem that way. I remember when sweetheart dropped in the Amangela ao3 tag and thinking WHO is this absolutely talented writer that came out of nowhere (to me lol), but now I can't imagine this little community without them.
@shesmore-shoebill is so good at capturing Amangela vibes as we see it. Like it truly feels like they've broken down the dynamic into its bare essentials which enables them to produce fics that I can vividly HEAR.  They also just infuse a lot of tenderness into the way they write Amanda and Angela, whether it's in a joke or in like genuine moments of checking in - both demonstrated very well in empty space and Joint Custody (Hey Siri). Also, you just know they're a good writer without reading any of their fics because they are already so articulate in how they write commentary on videos when they aren't even trying to write a story, so when they do have a story, it just hits even more. So good.
@skiespeaches has authored one of the hottest, tension-filled fics I've read in my god damned life. From the first chapter of The devil is in the details I was screaming over how THE FUCK they were able to make just ONE KISS feel like THAT. Also, really really really love how grounded this is in the way they write dialogue and internal thoughts. It captures the pleasant feeling of realizing just how much you like someone and receiving some cues that they might like you back. It captures actions you take because of those feelings that can get in the way of communicating what you really want, the emotional tentativeness that comes with not wanting to bear your heart completely quite yet - yet there is a willingness to see where it goes, hoping that it does come to that point. The entire fic feels like the most emotionally charged scene of a slice of life movie - which is literally my personal favorite genre.
@ghoulishhgayy - famed author of hit Amangela fic Oil Burns had me invested in a situation that I personally haven't read a lot of in fanfiction. The spirit of their fics can be boiled down (haha get it) to the way they write about two women who deeply care about one another unconditionally supporting each other through difficult times. That's the kind of shit I eat up, and it's done so excellently. They just also write in a way that just makes being in love so appealing. They capture the moment of oh in Oil Burns so well that it has me gnashing my teeth, gnawing at the bars of my enclosure etc etc.
@wlwsmosh manages to get to the heart of a story in a few words. It's actually crazy and I’m in awe of their talent. There is a lightness to their fics that just makes me smile so much while also like having some really smutty scenes, which is so dang impressive - balancing sweetness and steaminess really well while also feeling very much like Amangela. My favorite from them are when i call the shots, you call me mommy which I think feels so much like Amangela voice and humor, while also placing them in a relationship and kink context. Honestly, all of their fics are gems.
@baflegacy is so GOOD at putting Amangela in the silliest of situations (heck, situations that are very much based on what we have seen in canon) and teasing out its potential romantic through line. They have a way of capturing emotions that accompany these situations in a way that just shoots you straight to the core. They write tension so well, and are so good at keeping me engaged with what's about to happen next. All of their works are GOATED. I, however, am extremely biased when I say that my favorite is their birthday gift for me - too good (to deny it) - aka one of the best angsty pieces of writing I've read in my whole life my GOD.
@cuecrynsleep is so!!!! A newer friend whose first fic in the Amangela tag I fell in love with immediately (Being Transparent). It was so simple, but captures Amangela’s adorable nature within the context of a romantic relationship REALLY WELL. I’m also just out here eagerly awaiting every post from Reconnecting the Past, which is a chat fic - a format that I rarely like the execution of, but damn I love the way they’re doing it here with the added bonus of the Changela, Arangela, and Shourtmanda dynamics which is just feels absolutely right. I’m out here thinking what are they gonna do next. They are so good at building intrigue and I’m just here sipping my tea and thinking in my head that I sound like some pathetic fuckboy sexting going “and then what?” because I am seated. I am sat. 
Anyway, if you’ve reached the end of this post - go support these writers!!!! Make sure you let them know if you like their stuff - either through a comment, kudos, an ask, a message, or bookmark. I promise you it makes these authors’ days whenever they see any kind of feedback for their work, and it keeps the community ALIVE. I am guilty of not doing that but it’s always great to try instead of not. I know from personal experience that it makes so much of a difference in their motivation to write more, while also allowing us to savor the work instead of mindlessly consuming it. Thanks for reading me gushing about all of them. Love you Amangela RPF community! Very grateful for y’all more than you’ll ever know <3
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redlikerozez · 3 months ago
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A funny thing happened on the way to the Imperial Capital…
Summary: For all of his hard work placing clones all over the capital, Shi Qingxuan slipped through He Xuan’s fingers. Desperate for any solace or to save the former Wind Master, He Xuan turns to Hua Cheng for help. Either Shi Qingxuan can be saved or He Xuan will disperse himself.
Content warnings/tags: BeefLeaf Angsty Reconciliation Post Canon with Ghost Shi Qingxuan!
For day 5 & 6 of BeefLeaf Week 2025!
“Has anyone seen Old Feng today?”
“Nah, I ain’t seen ‘em since… hmm… was it two days ago?”
His clone’s ears perked up. Black Water had left several clones all over the Imperial Capital since he stranded the former Wind Master there after the events following their brief but calamitous affair at Nether Water Manor. 
This particular clone was an old and portly beggar woman. It was a brilliant disguise, if he was being honest. No one ever paid attention to a homely, slightly crazy old woman. 
“Whaddo ya mean? He weren’t here yesterday, weren’t he?” asked a different beggar in the run down temple. “Where’d ‘e run off too now?”
“No, I didn’t see ‘em. I haven’t seen ‘em since two mornings ago when ‘e took off,” the original inquisitor clarified. “I told ‘em it was a bad idea to go out lookin’ like that, but you know Old Feng, stubborn as an ox and crazy as a donkey, that one.”
“What do you mean, ‘lookin’ like that’?” questioned the clone.
“Yeah, well, a couple ‘a days ago, Old Feng spent all their coin on some fancy-schmancy robe they been lookin’ at buyin’ fer forever. I told ‘em to go for it if it made ‘em so happy, ya know? He never treats himself, that one. Only thinkin’ bout others. Thing is, though, it’s a lady’s robe, can you believe it?”
“I mean, Old Feng was the former Lady Wind Master! I mean, they says it all the time,” piped up an orphaned child with similarly bright eyes to Old Feng. “I mean, o’ course he’d wanna wear ladies clothes every now an’ then.”
“Ol’ Feng’s a liar!” someone cried from the opposite side of the camp. “He never been no Lady Wind Master!”
“Yes, he has! I saw it, we all did!” the child called back stubbornly, with a furrowed brow.
“Well, even if he was the Lady Wind Master, it’s dangerous goin’ out like that. Especially on this sidda town,” the first beggar murmured. “Not everyone ya meet in the capital’s gonna be nice an’ understanding an’ open-minded as us beggar-folk.”
“Yeah, there’s drunks that get too handsy sometimes. An’ not to mention the slavers that’ll snatch ya in the alleyways if you’re not lookin’ over ya shoulder,” supplied a girl not too far off that was listening intently. “I helped Old Feng do ‘er hair that mornin’. Combed all the tangles out an’ tied a green ribbon around it, I did. They looked real pretty as a girl. I even let ‘er borrow some a’ my rouge. She was lookin’ real pretty, ‘n real happy, too.”
The clone immediately alerted its main body at the news that Shi Qingxuan had gone missing from the beggar camp wearing lady’s clothes.
A cold, sinking feeling washed over He Xuan.
Why must you continually throw yourself haphazardly into danger without thinking of yourself? he thought bitterly.
His first few clones hadn’t been fast enough to help when Shi Qingxuan had originally injured themself, not once but twice. That’s why He Xuan had snuck this old woman clone directly into the beggar camp not long after their injury to keep an even closer eye on the breezy former god with no self-preservation instincts, especially for a recently-turned mortal.
“You know how folks ‘round here can get… If the wrong person saw Ol’ Feng dressed up all cute-like ‘n tried to sell ‘em or somethin’ only to find out she’s a he underneath it all…” 
A chill wind swept over the decrepit temple, sending a vicious shiver through all the beggars in their rags. An eerie howling wind and the silence that followed halted the conversation.
The little orphan scrambled to his feet after a second of the uneasy silence and ran out of the temple, shouting back, “I mean, ‘e can’t be that far! I’m gonna go look for Ol’ Feng!”
“Don’t be back too late or you’ll miss all the supper!” called the girl who had tied the ribbon in Old Feng’s hair. She helped take care of some of the children in the camp.
“Aiyah, no need to get so worked up thinking the worst things,” cried Old Zhang who plopped down on his shaky knees in front of a small fire that the beggars were sitting around. “Ol’ Feng’s got rotten luck, but ‘e always bounces back. Just you wait. He’s bound ‘a turn up sooner or later. Maybe he finally got over that special friend ‘a his, who knows! He’s probably spending the night in some lucky bastard’s bed for the first time in forever. Old Feng’s quite the sweet-talker, remember? You all shouldn’t worry so much. Not good for the blood.”
A boiling rage simmered in He Xuan’s stomach. The old woman clone grit her teeth together involuntarily. As much as he hated to think about it, Old Zhang was probably right. Shi Qingxuan was stubborn and reckless, but they really did always bounce back from whatever misfortune came their way since adopting a mortal life. And they could talk their way out of even the most dire of situations. It was their most reliable quality, and one of the only special powers that hadn’t left him since being stripped of divinity.
Still… Black Water Demon Xuan was nothing if not a master of espionage and surveillance. It couldn’t hurt to get his clones to take a look around and see if they remembered seeing the former Wind Master around the capital the last few days.
He Xuan, back in Nether Water Manor, was pacing around anxiously as he waited for any word from his multitudes of clones that had begun to search for the accursed former Wind Master. He was so restless that he decided the best course of action was to hibernate in the dark pools of ocean water to ease his mind in the meantime until his clones could locate his pesky quarry.
He growled at the thought of how stupid he knew he was going to feel after being so concerned when a clone inevitably gave him the news that Shi Qingxuan was living it up in the capital in the arms of some lover like Old Zhang had said. 
Images of the former Wind Master in the arms of another, embracing, kissing, and gods only know what else set his throat and stomach into knots. His hand balled into a fist unconsciously, claws digging painfully into the meat of his palm. He took an unnecessary deep breath and tried to relax as he began wading out into the black water of the southern seas to begin hibernation. The cool ocean breeze filled his seldom-used lungs and eased his nerves. 
He shouldn’t care so much about what Shi Qingxuan was doing anyway. As long as he was safe, that was all that matters. He was the only reason He Xuan was still around, after all.
Yet as his head finally submerged under the water, his mind was still plagued with disgusting images of the former Wind Master doing unspeakable things with some faceless mortal. 
He tried to shake the images out of his head.
Why should he care if the Wind Master was off galavanting and fornicating to their heart's content? What was it to him if they had finally found a lover for the first time after all the many years he had spent posing as his best friend in the Heavenly Capital? Shi Qingxuan hated him and would never forgive him for such a deep betrayal. He should be glad for him. Finally getting over his grief. Grief that He Xuan caused. He should be happy that Shi Qingxuan is moving on.
So why did it just feel like he was drinking vinegar…
But what was it that Old Zhang had said about him ‘finally getting over their special friend’? 
When he was posing as Earth Master Ming Yi alongside Wind Master Shi Qingxuan, there hadn’t been many people that the former wind god actually called a close friend. Perhaps Ming Yi was the only such friend until His Highness ascended for the third time. 
So who on earth could be this ‘special friend’ that Shi Qingxuan was pining over? How had he not known about it? The former Wind Master used to tell Ming Yi everything. And really, truly everything. Every. Single. Thought. Or anything else that came to their mind. It was insufferable. But the god had never mentioned being in love once. Maybe this was a new friend that they had gotten close to in the beggar camp? Surely, that must be the explanation.
The more He Xuan thought about it, the more he realized that as long as he had known the former Wind Master, even as popular as he was in his former glory, he never had anyone that he was enamored with. The Wind Master had never so much as glanced at anyone in a romantic way, not even when they were drunk. Of course, they flirted with lots of gods and mortals alike, but he’d always assure his best friend, Ming-xiong, that it never really meant anything. Not that Ming Yi had cared, of course.
He Xuan shook his head and nudged away the skull of one of the bone fish that had swam by to greet its master, or perhaps beg for treats.
Still, something didn’t feel right in his stomach about the disappearance of the former Wind Master.
If anything happens to him, I’ll kill him myself, he thought, not really meaning a word of it.
Finally reaching a satisfactory depth in the dark ocean, he closed his eyes and began hibernating to pass the time until his clones made contact.
~~~
Something was wrong. Very wrong.
It had been nearly a week since Shi Qingxuan had gone missing and none of his clones had awoken him with news of their retrieval. 
Have to do everything myself… he grumbled in his mind, still fully submerged in the deep water. He called over a bone dragon and thought it easier to hitch a ride on his fish than draw a tedious teleportation array at the bottom of the ocean.
He gave the dragon a small pat on the head, took a firm grip on its skull, and commanded it to head for the capital. There was a river that ran through the middle of the capital that had an inlet into the sea that they could swim through.
He Xuan normally didn’t bother conducting his own business in the capital. He preferred to leave all business in the city to his clones for fear of running into Shi Qingxuan himself. But now that he was here, with access to his full spiritual power, he’d have better luck tracking his quarry.
Water rushed past him in alternating swathes of cool and warm currents as they swam through the relatively calm ocean. Most animals would steer clear once they sensed a gigantic water predator and He Xuan’s immense evil aura that he was too lazy to mask in the water, so he couldn’t do much sightseeing of his favorite ocean critters. It was no matter. He had his entire immortal afterlife to see whatever he wanted to see. The first priority was securing the location of former Wind Master Shi Qingxuan. 
He could see the capital up ahead when they breached the surface. He started to mask his aura now that he was closer to civilization. It would be a pain if a Heavenly Official caught on to his business here in the capital. It would be hard to explain to His Highness Xie Lian why he had so many clones in the capital without sounding like a stalker… He was not a stalker! He was just making sure that the stupid mortal kept himself safe! It was for insurance purposes, he convinced himself. Nothing else.
The bone dragon navigated itself up the river that led through the capital and instantly his senses were overwhelmed with the absolute filth that was the water here in the river. It made him want to vomit, the gills on his neck burned and stung with the terrible quality of the water he inhaled. The bone fish didn’t seem too bothered. It was dead, after all.
It wasn’t that He Xuan needed to breathe underwater. In fact, he didn’t need to breathe at all. But it felt nice to fill his lungs with clean and fresh oxygen from the dark oceans. It was a calming sensation, but the water here was decidedly not worth filling his useless lungs with.
He was nearing the location of the dilapidated Wind and Water Temple where the beggar camp normally resided, when all of a sudden his dragon stopped. Just… stopped swimming. In the middle of the river. He nearly tumbled off from such an abrupt stop.
He cocked a confused brow down at the beast and commanded it to move along. Their destination wasn’t far now. It was only a couple hundred meters away. But the fish stubbornly refused to heed his commands. 
“Come on. Get a move on,” he ordered. “We need to find Shi Qingxuan.”
The bone fish trembled underneath and did not move even a hair forward. He Xuan rolled his eyes at the incredibly stubborn fish underneath him and let go. Whatever. If it was going to be difficult, he would just swim the rest of the way himself. But as he descended the back of the dragon, it started thrashing wildly around in the water.
“What has gotten into you, today?!” he huffed, trying to catch the skull in his hands to calm the beast. “What’s wrong?”
He had never seen one behave like this before. He did a quick survey of his surroundings, wondering if there was perhaps some talisman or charm that was preventing the fish from moving further into the river, but he couldn’t sense any such enchantments. 
“Tell me what is wrong,” he demanded, finally catching the attention of the beast. Not that it could speak.
The dragon seemed to quiver at his touch, and it retreated swiftly into the deepest part of the river. It started trying to bury its gigantic form into the silt and mud. 
“What in the…” He Xuan wondered aloud underwater. Bubbles rippled on the surface from his mouth.
If he thought the beast was acting strange before, now he was surely convinced something was ailing the beast. The only time he had seen similarly odd behavior was right before Mt. Tonglu opened, shortly after he dropped off Shi Qingxuan in the capital. But he wasn’t feeling any agitation from the mountain. So what on earth was wrong?
The bone dragon chomped down its mighty maw on something at the bottom of the river.
“Disgusting…” he nearly gagged at the peculiar site. 
But he was still eternally confused as to what exactly the fish in question was doing. Surely there wasn’t anything good to eat in this river bed…
“Come here,” he commanded. “Show me what you have in our mouth.” When the fish shook its head gently, mouth still obviously full, he set his brows together in anger and demanded again, “Spit it out. Now.”
The fish hesitated slightly before coming closer to its master. It kept trying to turn its head away, as if it was still trying to hide whatever was in its mouth.
He Xuan began trying to pry open the mouth of the bonefish, but it was a powerful spiritual animal. Not that he was weak, but he didn’t want to hurt the fish in an effort to get whatever was in its mouth out. He shouted several curses at the thing continually demanding for the insufferable beast to open its mouth, but it kept trying to shake him off.
“Enough!” he bellowed, more bubbles rippling to the surface in his fury. “I grow tired of your games! Open your jaws now or I will disperse you!”
He could have sworn he heard the dragon whimper at his threats just a little bit before it finally acquiesced and ceased its infernal thrashing. It lowered its head into He Xuan’s arms and slowly opened its mouth.
A bloated corpse slowly tumbled out of its fangs and rolled languidly into He Xuan’s arms. His eyes glanced down briefly, still expressionless at the anticlimactic reveal.
“What is it that you want with this body?” he asked, still not fully understanding the fish’s behavior. “Do I not feed you enough? Go ahead and eat it if you wish. Is this really the reason why you’re acting out of sorts?”
He tried to shove the body back into the dragon’s mouth, but it refused to open. First it wouldn’t open its mouth, and now it refused its master for a second time! He Xuan shot the skeletal fish a dangerous glance. The fish just whimpered again and shook its head. It even started gently nudging and rubbing its skull along the body, almost like an affectionate cat.
“I don’t understand. Are you not hungry? You don’t wish to eat it?”
The fish squirmed and flailed around, childishly shaking its tail higher in the water, throwing a tantrum in the middle of the river. It kept coming back up to the body, nuzzling it for a moment and then darting away.
“Do you know this person?” he asked, even more bewildered by the continued odd behavior. “But who on earth could you have met before in the Imperial—”
As he spared another glance down at the body floating in his arms, he unconsciously let slip a gasp and sucked in an enormous amount of water into his lungs instead of his gills by mistake. He Xuan, the most powerful water ghoul, started effectively drowning in the middle of the river from the shock.
The bone fish, panicking, lifted its master to the surface with its large head. He Xuan choked, coughed, and sputtered out the water burning his lungs. Now sprawled out on the river bank and heaving gulps of clean oxygen, he dug his fingers into the body by accident, not wanting to separate from it until he made sure of what he thought he saw.
No… 
Surely he didn’t see that person’s face in his arms in the river. It was a trick of the light filtering through the river. There was no way that it was…
He placed the corpse gently on the ground in front of him and leaned over its face, still dripping wet from the river, to get a better look.
It was hard to make out specific facial features from the corpse since it had likely been in the river for a few days and was bloated almost beyond recognition. 
This person was wearing a beautiful robe that looked like it was of average quality. There was a small green leaf pattern embroidered into the white silk. The person’s drenched locks were curly and had matted together in the water, but he could still make out a pale green ribbon that had once tied together some hair into a neat bun. 
All of that was unsettling, for sure, but could be explained away. Sure that girl at the beggar camp said Shi Qingxuan’s hair had a green ribbon in it, but so did many people in the capital! This was no proof.
However, as he looked closer, he could see a small elegant-looking mole underneath this person’s right eye. And the most damning feature was the eyes themselves: two incredibly bloodshot but bright brownish-greenish eyes. And tucked into the person's sash was a broken fan…
He Xuan would recognize that fan, the mole, and those once-dazzling eyes anywhere.
He instinctively turned away after confirming his suspicions. Bile began rising in the back of his sore throat from his coughing earlier and it stung terribly.
“No…” he said in little more than a whisper, staring at the river, not daring to look back at the corpse in front of him. “No. No! NO!” 
He let out a bloodcurdling yell as he felt his heart and stomach sink into the black depths of the bottomless ocean.
Thunder started rumbling in the distance as the river began to agitate, the ocean waves surrounding the capital churning rougher and larger.
He failed. He failed to protect them. Even with all his spying and his clones keeping an eye out. He failed Shi Qingxuan. The only thing tying his existence to this world he let slip through his fingers as easily as grains of sand.
And for the first time in a long time, since before he became a ghost king, he felt his soul shudder and waver for a moment, like he wasn’t completely in control of his form. Like his soul was dispersing.
Suddenly, his eyes shot back to the corpse in a panic. No, they couldn’t be dead. There was no way! Surely, they could still be saved!
He started recalling every medical text he’d ever read in his many years of studying to be a scholar, and began trying to save their life.
He started by putting his ear to their heart and then to their mouth. There was no sound from the corpse. He brought a hand to check their pulse and meridians to be extra sure. Immediately, after reading absolutely nothing back, he began doing compressions on the dead body. He briefly considered mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, but as he leaned over the pale face, he couldn’t bring himself to actually do it. 
Water sloshed out of the mouth in droves after he began chest compressions, but the heartbeat did not return, and neither did breath.
There had to be some way. He had to bring them back. 
~~~
Yin Yu, now newly reformed as ghost and returning to his position as the Waning Moon Officer, was alerted immediately upon Black Water entering the city— his arrival having been foretold by Hua Cheng, himself (though, he didn’t say why). But as soon as Yin Yu stepped out onto the main street of Ghost City, his boots sunk into a large puddle. 
Just my luck… he lamented. These were my favorite boots.
He looked down, realizing in horror that the entire street had flooded with a couple of centimeters of black water. Effectively, a shallow river was rushing through the street! The property damage alone from this amount of water was going to be astronomical!
Yin Yu shook his head and looked up, only to be nearly tackled by a ghost. Splashing and screaming filled his ears. Every single ghost on the street began tripping and falling over each other as people ran screaming in the opposite direction, far away from the entrance gates. 
“What the fuck?” Yin Yi asked, deadpan and motionless in the street as the chaos whipped past.
“Black Water’s gone MAD!” someone yelled. 
“He’ll drown us all!” another cried.
“Someone call granduncle! Someone get Chengzhu!” a woman’s voice squawked out of her chicken head.
The hair on Yin Yu’s body started prickling up at the impossibly thick evil aura radiating ahead of him. Every single atom of his being screamed at him to flee at once. He didn’t even have a beating heart, and it nearly stopped in terror at the sight. 
He Xuan looked wrong. 
Yin Yu took one look at the menacing scene of Black Water Sinking Ships, in all his calamitous, devastating glory, and decided that his new “life” as a ghost was worth more than his job. 
Water was pouring, absolutely gushing, from the bottom of He Xuan’s black robes in swathes like a burst dam. Debris, lanterns, garbage, and everything else not secured was flooding down the streets in the wake as He Xuan, looking worse than dreadful, slowly waded through the water, carrying something large in his arms. His eyes had gone completely black save for a slitted yellow iris. His pale, sunken face had distorted into a terrifyingly long and woefully frowning face with his mouth open so far, it was nearly dragging down close to his chest. And the sounds! The howling, wailing noise screeching pure agony deep from within shattered glass as he passed by and tore open windows and doors. 
“Uh, Chengzhu?!” Yin Yu cried into the private communication array, turning around and making a break for it. “This is a little above my pay grade!”
He was only a newly formed wrath, for fuck’s sake! Did Chengzhu expect him to fight???? Black Water Sinking Ships, the Black Calamity?????? Fuck that!!!!! He had to get out of dodge or be caught in the torrent!
“Did you even try to talk to him?” Hua Cheng asked, voice dripping with irritation.
“No, I—”
With another howl that sounded even more terrifying than before, another section of Ghost City exploded from the piercing shriek. Yin Yu covered his ears to lessen the damage, but it didn’t really help that much. Gales of wind ripped down the stalls and signs and nearly blew Yin Yu off of his feet from the sheer force. 
“UMM, I DON'T THINK HE WANTS TO TALK RIGHT NOW!”
“That bad, huh…?” Hua Cheng mused, tapping his chin. “Alright, evacuate the city to the Gambler’s Den for now. I guess I’ll deal with Black Water myself…”
Hua Cheng grabbed E-Ming from out of its scabbard and looked over to his beloved.
“Gege, stay here while I deal with our favorite gloomy fish.”
“San Lang, are you sure it wouldn’t be better to just tell him—”
“It’s too dangerous. This is a calamity throwing a temper tantrum. We don’t know how he’ll react if we just tell him. Just wait for now, and come when I call. I’ll handle it. Besides, Gege needn’t get his boots wet over this,” he assured his husband.
“Alright San Lan,” Xie Lian nodded. “We’ll stay here for now. Be safe.”
“Always.”
Hua Cheng sauntered out of Paradise Manor, a little too casually for the situation. He sneered down upon seeing the water flooding the streets had already reached this close to his house. Heaving a deep sigh, he followed his senses over the accumulating mass of evil qi wading through his city.
The moment he laid eyes on him, Hua Cheng’s normally confident smirk faltered for a moment. The last time he’d seen his fri— he’d seen He Xuan like this was when he’d just erupted out of Mt. Tonglu and he still couldn’t keep full control of all the ghosts he’d devoured in the Kiln.
“It’s been a while, Black Water Demon Xuan,” he called out from a few meters away, holding out his scimitar. “Why are you destroying my city?” Like he didn’t already know the answer.
He Xuan’s monstrous form screeched out a terrible thing and whirled around in the direction of Crimson Rain’s voice.
“Shi Qingxuan is gone. You will save him or you will kill me.”
The voice sounded like a primordial earthquake rumbling underneath the ocean, deep and gravelly.
“I’m not going to kill you,” Crimson Rain said quite plainly. “It’s not a useful business practice to kill those which owe me exorbitant amounts of money.”
“Then you will save him. His soul was not marked for reincarnation. I do not care what I bet, but you will bring him back.”
“Switching fates is what got you stuck in this sticky predicament, would you have me do that again to some other poor soul like you were?” he asked.
“I do not care the price. He will come back to me or you will kill me.”
He Xuan let go of the limp corpse he was holding bridal style and passed it over onto a wave that rolled over to Hua Cheng’s feet.
“Save him.”
Hua Cheng took one, brief glance down at the bloated corpse and scoffed. “This body is beyond saving,” he said evenly. “I’m more interested in what you would do if he comes back to you.”
The water demon did not reply.
“Answer me. Why do you care so much that this stupid mortal returns from the dead? Why not let his soul rest in peace with the brother that you killed? Or is it that you were looking forward to torture him for all eternity?”
“No.”
“Then are you going to just stalk him from a distance for the rest of your life, following him around reincarnation after reincarnation?”
“No, I…”
“Then why do you care what happens to his soul?”
He Xuan’s demon form finally subsided and he collapsed into the street, clutching at the damp robes of the corpse, sobbing like a pathetic man.
“I can’t… I can’t lose him.”
“Why?” demanded Hua Cheng, pointing his scimitar directly at the corpse. “What is he to you?”
“I love him!” he snarled, teeth gnashing as he stretched over to protect the body from the deadly saber. It was stupid, protecting a corpse. But he’d failed to protect Shi Qingxuan in life, the least he could do was watch over his remains. “Is that what you want to hear?! That I love him? That I love him despite everything? That even though I know he fucking hates me and never wants to see me again, I still love him?! That even though I betrayed him, I still love him?! You would do the same thing for His Highness, so why can’t I risk everything for just one more chance with the one I love? I would make it right! I would… I would… I would make it right… Somehow…”
Hua Cheng stood motionless before the weeping image of He Xuan and tucked E-Ming back into the scabbard.
“Just… If you can’t do it, just kill me,” he whispered. He reached into his sleeve, trying to pull something out. “My ashes are—”
“I’m not going to kill you, put that away.”
“If you won’t do it, then I’ll do it myself—” 
Hua Cheng caught his hand before he could do anything so drastic. “You idiot!” he barked.
“There is no other reason for me to live. If you won’t bring him back, then—”
“When did I say that I wouldn’t?!” Hua Cheng snarled, throwing his arm back.
He Xuan caught himself by the elbows onto the watery pavement, but his head whipped back to look up at Hua Cheng’s irritated expression.
“You… You’ll do it?”
“Who’s to say I need to do anything?” Hua Cheng leaned over, smirking mischievously down at He Xuan. “You should have more faith in mortals. They have a funny way of being stubborn little cockroaches…”
Hua Cheng stepped out of the way and He Xuan saw walking up behind him was His Highness Xie Lian, except there was another pair of footsteps following after him, still hiding.
“Black Water,” Xie Lian greeted with a tight lipped smile. 
He Xuan blinked up at Xie Lian, confused. Hua Cheng kicked He Xuan lightly in the arm, egging him on to address His Highness properly.
“Your Highness…” he grit through bared teeth, massaging his shoulder.
“H-He Xuan,” another voice called out from behind Xie Lian.
The transparent shade of a young and beautiful man with chestnut waves and a mole under his right eye peaked out from behind Xie Lian hesitantly. His bright emerald eyes were glassy and filled with tears.
“What? What is this?” He Xuan asked, not believing his eyes.
Shi Qingxuan couldn’t look him in the eyes. “He Xuan, I… I’m sorry.”
“How…?” he asked, standing up, afraid to get close. “How are you…? A ghost?”
“We’re not entirely sure,” Xie Lian supplied. “Our running theory has to do with the fact that the former Wind Master willing stripped himself of his divinity, thus choosing his original fate as a regular mortal, and perhaps the reincarnation cycle cleared his soul’s slate when this happened. But of course, that’s just speculation. We probably will never know the reason.”
“Does there need to be a reason?” Hua Cheng asked, rolling his eyes. “He’s not gone forever. So are you happy now? Are you quite done with this temper tantrum, Black Water?”
“San Lang.”
“He destroyed a third of my city, Gege.”
He Xuan just stared at the weak little shade of Shi Qingxuan, soul finally able to cease its wavering. Neither of them spoke a word, but Xie Lian could guess what was going through He Xuan’s mind.
“I heard him praying to me,” Xie Lian explained. “When it happened. And I should’ve gotten there earlier, but I… I thought it was too late. And like you, I thought that it would be the end. But then, I saw the ghost fire… And I didn’t know what else to do but take it back to Ghost City.”
“We tried looking for the body to cremate, but the former Wind Master lost most of his memory leading up to the accident,” Hua Cheng explained. “But it looks like you’ve gone through the trouble of finding it.”
All of that was petty details to He Xuan.
“Why are you still here?” he demanded. “Are you a resentful spirit? Do you want revenge against me? Is that why His Highness and Crimson Rain hid you from me all this time?”
Shi Qingxuan faltered back, mouth parting in shock and he shook his head vigorously. “No, no, no, He Xuan, it’s not like that at all!” he promised, holding back tears. “Please, don’t think that of me. I—”
“Then what? What possible reason could you have unfinished business here on earth if not for revenge?”
“He Xuan, I—” Shi Qingxuan started. A grunt of pain escaped his mouth and his form wavered for a moment. 
Xie Lian looked worried and grabbed at his hands, trying to stabilize him, but his hand couldn’t grasp onto such an incorporeal form.
“He’s fading,” Hua Cheng observed. “His spirit is weak. He wouldn’t have lasted this long if Gege hadn’t found him.”
Hua Cheng then proceeded to slap He Xuan in the ass, jolting him forward.
“What the fuck was that for?” 
“Go on, lover boy,” Hua Cheng said, smirking. “Exchange spiritual power with him.”
“What?!”
“You heard me,” he said. “And do it properly. Not just a shove in the back like last time, you coward. Or do you want me to give you a proper demonstration with Gege?”
“He doesn’t want—”
“Shi Qingxuan’s soul is wavering because he believes you do not love him,” Xie Lian said, looking He Xuan dead in the eyes with a grave seriousness in his voice. 
He Xuan’s wide eyes looked back at Hua Cheng, who nodded smugly in confirmation.
He rushed to Shi Qingxuan’s side in an instant, splashing wildly through the puddles in his haste. He Xuan tried to cup his cheek, but his hand didn’t catch the edge of the translucent image.
“Shi Qingxuan,” he said, feeling panic like he’d never felt before in his life. “Shi Qingxuan, stay with me.”
The former Wind Master looked up, eyes burning with a mixture of hope and pain as his extremities began to disappear from sight.
A nearly disembodied voice rang out in the light breeze, “He Xuan, I will stay for you, if you’ll have me...”
He Xuan pushed his lips forward, pouring forth all of the spiritual power he could without overwhelming the shade. He didn’t feel anything at first, it was like the air and the ocean breeze wafting into his face, a misty conglomerate. But as the spiritual power slowly but surely seeped into Shi Qingxuan’s ghostly meridians, he could start to feel the texture of soft skin against his lips. Only encouraged with his progress, he tangled his hands into the former Wind Master’s waves and kissed even deeper, something he’d only ever dreamed about doing.
And Shi Qingxuan’s form stabilized. He became ever more corporeal and less translucent than ever before. In fact, he almost looked like a living human. Tears streamed down their faces in relief and joy. Even Xie Lian started crying. 
Shi Qingxuan was the first to break away from the kiss, heaving unnecessary air (something he still hadn’t gotten used to.) And even though he was stabilizing, He Xuan, in his eagerness, had poured just a little bit too much spiritual energy into his tiny soul. He collapsed into He Xuan’s arms with a smile on his face, exhausted.
“What…?” He Xuan asked, blinking in confusion, fearing he’d critically overloaded him or something.
“He'll be fine,” Hua Cheng assured him, patting him on the back roughly. “Just needs time to get used to being a ghost.”
He Xuan nodded, a little dazed from everything that just happened.
“So about the corpse…” Hua Cheng started, staring down at it, kicking it with his foot a bit.
“San Lang, don’t!”
“What? He’s already dead…”
“I’ll take care of it,” He Xuan insisted. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Are you sure? I’m better at forging than you—”
“I’ll take care of it,” he hissed.
“Shi Qingxuan has been staying with us in Paradise Manor,” Xie Lian offered. “You’re welcome to stay with us until he becomes stable enough, right San Lang?” Xie Lian shot Hua Cheng an endearing smile cloaked with danger.
“That’s right,” he said, agreeing with his husband immediately despite his internal distaste for the idea.
“That’s really not necessary—”
“We insist,” Xie Lian said finally.
 Hua Cheng shot He Xuan a threatening glare. He Xuan nodded instantly, reneging. 
“Alright, then, it’s settled!” Xie Lian declared with a warm smile. “And since you're staying, I’m sure San Lang wouldn’t mind lending you a helping hand in the forge. The former Wind Master’s ashes must be of the highest quality.”
“Of course, Gege.”
“Perfect!”
He Xuan held the unconscious spirit in his arms. He summoned a little puddle of water to pick up the corpse and follow him as they walked towards Paradise Manor.
“You really made a mess of my city, didn’t you, Black Water?”
He Xuan narrowed his eyes, cheeks turning red from embarrassment. “Are you going to add this—”
“I’m adding all of the damage to your debt, yes. And you owe Yin Yu an apology. I think you blew out his eardrums.”
“…”
“I also think you owe him a generous tip,” Hua Cheng added. “And perhaps pay for the extended vacation he’s taking because of this incident.”
“Are you serious…?”
“And to make up for my missing in action servant, I’ll be expecting you to pick up the slack around Paradise Manor starting early tomorrow morning. And you’ll need to help clean up the city…”
“Fuck you.”
Hua Cheng narrowed his eyes into thin crescents, smiling wickedly, “Don’t destroy my city in a temper tantrum, little fish. Now you get to clean up the mess you made all by yourself.”
“Now, San Lang, you know that’s not fair,” Xia Lian tutted lightly. “I’m sure everyone in the city will help out!”
“He’s lucky I didn’t kill him for destroying my territory and violating—”
“We can discuss this another day,” He Xuan said quickly. “My first priority is to cremate the body and forge the ashes into something not as fragile.”
“Exactly,” Xie Lian agreed.
“And I have a couple of ideas,” he continued, looking over at Hua Cheng. “Have you ever crafted a fan before?”
~~~
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corduroyserpent · 2 months ago
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Shameless Self Promo Saturday
thanks @rsenak for the tag! <3
this week has been mostly wip focused but i did post chapter 13 of whatever frozen or molten state
His mind floated back to the pitch-black ooze he had pulled Tianlang-Jun from, dark in the way that only dreamt things could be. So much had happened since they’d been attacked by that roaming pack of Dream Crawlers that he’d put it out of his mind in favor of focusing on whatever monster was currently giving them trouble. When Shen Qingqiu had touched the darkness that had held Tianlang-Jun captive, when he’d dipped his fingers into the obsidian pit, he’d discovered two things. First, that it was hardly more than a puddle. Tianlang-Jun was so close to the surface that he could have quite literally sat up and freed himself. But that was where the second thing came in. Grief, it turned out, was an easy water to drown in.
next chapter comes out tomorrow yay!!
and in terms of wips, i have been working on the next part of An Old Hope Made New
“Binghe, that’s not going to work on me.” Shen Qingqiu retreats behind his fan, unsuccessful at hiding how flustered he has become. “We already…sleep together. I mean, ahem, we sleep in the same bed. Is that not enough?” It should be. Luo Binghe knows how fortunate he is to have any part of Shen Qingqiu, whatever his master will give him. Especially after— No, he won’t think about that. He cannot allow the past to sink its talons into his heart. There is only one place that road leads. The ease with which the dark side can enfold one within its familiar, painful embrace is not to be underestimated. He should let this go. He should tell Shen Qingqiu he’s only playing around, of course this level of physical intimacy is enough. But he can’t. Because it isn’t. It will never be enough. Luo Binghe’s desire is a boundless pit, jagged and inescapable.
been playing around with a bunch of dmc wips too but i'll keep those tucked away for now hehe
tagging: whoever has something to share! don't be shy, consider yourself tagged <3
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perhaps-sunlight · 1 year ago
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Self-rec time! What are your favorite five fics that you've written and why? After replying to this ask, feel free pass on to five other writers to spread the love. 💗
Hi, thank you for the ask 💗 It's difficult to pick, not because I think all of my fics are amazing, but because writing takes a lot of effort so I only make time to write the ideas that I love. Right now, as a survival technique, my favorite fics are my three WIPs (one in each of my fandoms).
Focusing on my completed fics, in descending order:
5 -- In Your Image (Harry Potter, Tomarry):
It's rare for me to finish writing a fic and look back upon it with the feeling that I accomplished everything I intended from the outset. This is one of the exceptions. Aside from phrasing and word choices that can always be improved, I am satisfied with my Tomarry take on The Picture of Dorian Gray, and I'm especially proud of the climax and ending.
4 -- Inventing Paradoxes (Harry Potter, Tomarry)
This is a sentimental favorite. I came back to the Harry Potter fandom during the pandemic as a coping mechanism, so I wanted to write something lighthearted and happy (though one could argue I should've picked a different ship). With the Paradoxes series, I regained confidence in writing, a skill that had grown rusty, and I also got a lot of support from my readers, which made me feel like part of a community during a difficult period.
3 -- Perhaps Love (Digimon, Takari)
Another sentimental favorite: I first started planning / writing this fic when I was a teenager, upset with the non-canonical ending to my first ship. The heydays of the fandom have long past by the time I posted, but I was able to find readers who felt similarly disappointed and appreciated the ending that I provided. As with many of my stories, Perhaps was written around three pivotal scenes, and when I reread them years later, I can still appreciate the emotional impact that I was aiming for.
2 -- (never) let me go (Harry Potter, Tomarry)
I've always been and am still fascinated by the concept of death. As a teenager, I wanted to write a story where Harry struggles with the concept of immortality as the Master of Death because it means leaving his loved ones behind, but I didn't have the life experience to pull the story together. After discovering Tomarry, I reframed my original idea into a story about the acceptance of death: both from Harry, who doesn't want to lose someone he loves, and from Tom, who's afraid of moving on.
It's sort of a strange story, and I still find things I'd like to improve when I reread it. However, I was happy that it found readers who enjoyed its strangeness and super flattered that it was bound into a little book!
1 -- Once Upon a Fairy Tale (Digimon, Takari)
Like In Your Image, this is one of the few stories where I feel that I satisfactorily translated my complete vision to paper (and more). I enjoyed exploring how two characters can fall in love and yet still not be together, a theme that I revisit in other works, whether consciously or subconsciously. And when I reread the story, I can discern the hopes and dreams of a person who has yet to experience the ups and downs of real life, which fills me with bittersweet nostalgia for the innocence I once had.
Thanks for reading my rambling!
I'll tag @moonytear, @isalisewrites, and @kippipies (but no pressure at all!).
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redhoodinternaldialectical · 5 months ago
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Author ask tag!
I got tagged by @laufire a uhhhh a while ago lol (check out her talking about her Underground Elysium story)
I'll be chatting about Chained, my big ol JayTim series. My pinned post is a big explanation of it, but I'll go ahead and slap the premise down here too for convenience's sake
Jason is set in front of a contract that will grant near omnipotence over every facet of reality. The catch is that it requires the person who actually gains the power to be permanently bound into the service of someone else. Afraid of what this could do in the wrong hands, Jason asks Tim to be his new Master. After many hours of intense negotiations, they produce a subcontract designed to maintain Jason's basic rights as a person while still granting them enough power to overcome whatever caused the contract to be written in the first place. Now all that's left is to destroy all evidence of the Contract's existance, and start remaking the world in their image...
What is the main lesson of your story? Why did you choose it?
It feels wrong to say that I went out and chose a lesson for this? But at the same time, because I'm handling so many historical and sociological topics I feel that I can't write it without imparting some idea of how the world functions which will operate as a lesson whether I want it to or not.
I suppose the thing that gets closest is the conviction that maintaining the status quo is not the best we can hope for; better is possible and when normality is based upon evil it is a moral imperative to change how our society functions. Also America is evil.
What did you use as inspiration for your worldbuilding?
The real world. I'm reading history, anthropology, religious texts; I'm doing my level best to give this story, with all of its time travel and world spanning consequences, the full depth and breadth of human experience to explore and impact. I have a special interest in the history and development of the religious and the occult so you best believe that when I make my characters into Gods, I'm gonna figure out how people reconcile that with their existing faiths and develop new ones!
Secondly, of course I'm pulling from an enormous amount of DC canon, especially the various 'crisis' events and in particular Dark Nights: Metal, the Justice League Doom War, and Dark Nights: Death Metal. If you've read some of these comics, you'll know who the main villain is far before the reveal :3 I'm honestly trying to stay as canon compliant as possible
What is your MC trying to achieve, and what are you, the writer, trying to achieve with them?
Tim and Jason's main goals will be the preservation of their own world, the creation of a perfect world, and trying to be good to each other while in a deeply power imbalanced relationship.
At its core, this is still a romance, despite the large scope of the plot. So, there's a really intense focus on exploring the emotions and perspectives of Jason and Tim. It's like half character study by volume. I want to enjoy sitting in their headspaces and watching them collide with the other characters around them and develop and grow and relapse :3
I also want to pose a series of questions about the ways the world works and the nature of power and humanity and present a series of possible answers for the audience to grapple with. Tim's decision to try to make everyone immortal has already lead to some fantastic stuff, as people have instinctively balked at the idea and written comments articulating why it's such a terrible idea (and excitement to see what kind of mess Tim causes with all of it ^w^)
How many chapters is your story going to have?
O_O; ...uhhhhhhh that's a good question!
It's taken me 23 to get here... 27 ish prob to get to the end of arc 1... arc 2 for time travel arc 3 for ___ showing up and fight one, uhhhhh another few arcs likely????
Final vague estimate: approximately 150 chapters?!?!?!
I'm not allowed to die until this fic gets finished, which might just make me immortal idk, don't @ me about the feasibility or length xD
Is it fanfiction or original content? Where do you plan to post it?
Fanfic. All my original characters happen in role play contexts and if I were to write professionally, I'd want to write these characters anyways. DC let me have Jason I prommy I'll make good good comics out of him, you let tentatodd happen at least twice surely you can let me have at him too!!! (Seriously tho, I already have have a story arc outlined up, CALL ME)
Anyhow, my AO3 is Tinerian, and here's a link to the series so far :3
When did you start writing?
Ever? Idk, I guess high school??
This particular project? Also vaguelly in high school technically, but that was only the first 18,000 words that I spilled out in three days lol, more realistically I've been working on it for a little over a year now, publishing roughly twice a month for most of that time.
Do you have any words of encouragement for fellow writers of writeblr? What other writers do you follow?
Every project, no matter how failed, propels you forwards. This is my fourth or fifth serious attempt to write something like this and every prior attempt has taught me invaluable lessons that are the reason this series is actually going to work.
We got this :3
Oh heck let's see, whomst to tag... @swamp-spirit, @bestangelofall, @vigilantecore, @lazaruspiss I feel like I'm probably missing like a million people but oh well! If you see this and u wanna then go for it! Would/will be interested to hear about it :3
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