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saikiscleansink · 2 years ago

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Okay so i love sagau fics n have always had some of my own headcanons so i wanna share but idk if i would ever be able to write it bc i suck n have no idea where n how to start. Will come back and edit things every once in a while. More like my own notes for sagau fics. This is all my own opinion!!Pls dont come after me for this.

Sagau basic headcanons:

Blood red slowly turns gold (like really really slowly) glitter? Looks normal but slightly different? = can justify acolytes attempt to kill cos seems fake?

Lore: why kill someone for looking like their creator? Impossible for anyone to mimic creator’s look due to creator being god. Only if have gold blood then is creator. ie blames abyssal magic for creator looking person but no gold blood (refer to above point for lack of gold blood)

Can hear through screen? If game is on then they can hear you clearly. Places they can see you?: luhua pool, mona’s thing, holy places (church of favonius, narukami shrine, asase shrine etc) (my fave place ok its so pretty) If game is off then its muffled? Maybe blurry image?

Acolytes feelings warmth around the creator? Yes but also no? Godly aura wont load in so fast. Maybe can feel a little bit similar to when around the traveller.

Godliness doesnt really load in so fast. Reader’s body has to undergo cjanges to adapt to being in a place filled with magic unlike homeland?

Imposter au headcanons:

If creator dies and is sent back to homeworld. Only they can see their blood is gold? Go doctor or smt and they only see normal red blood? Scars also only reader can see.

Abyss can tell imposter is actually creator due to ancient connection with creator from Khaenri’ah / curse???

Kids cant tell but dont want to hunt? Cautiously looks after reader bc of morals? Too young to be clouded by their obsession with creator.

Khaenri’ans in general ie kaeya, albedo, dainsleif can tell bc abyss n curse?

Albedo n kaeya have me a little on edge tho. Cause they were raised in a human land? Maybe albedo would be better at sensing their grace? Albedo isnt exactly as human as kaeya and doesnt get influenced by others as easily as a normal human? But kaeya is khaenrhi’an so he can just tell?

Razor probably doesnt really understand all that much about their grace? He understands that theres an imposter and imposter=bad but he finds reader and only understands that reader feels warm and safe. Even if reader is an imposter, razor is safe and comfortable. Reader smells like home.

Heizouuuuu!!!! Hes literally the best detective. While the dumbass “acolytes” r so focused on hunting reader, he just notices small details about reader. He notices that the blood you leave behind has a faint golden shimmer that gets more and more gold as time passes (?). He notices the way that not only the “bad” creatures of teyvat flock toward you but also the innocent animals (squirrels boars even pigeons). While the rest of teyvat is saying that reader is the imposter because of the way hilichurls and slimes crowd around reader, heizou notices the way timmy’s pigeons dont fly away until someone else comes by. He notices how the birds seem to guide reader in their escapes. He sees the squirrels giving reader wolfberries (to help heal wounds) and mints and sweet flowers and berries. He can put 2 n 2 together to realise that an imposter wouldnt be able to earn the favour of innocent animals the way his grace can.

TRAVELLER JUST KNOWS!!! They spend the most time around you!!! Even if they are not in the party i hc that they are still there. They are you in a sense. 11/10 most loyal and huggable acolyte

Dancer!reader:

headcanons: graceful. Flexible. can treat minor injuries (dance= injuries) sprained ankle, muscle cramp. Used to injuries ie hit in the head. Big stamina. Can work through stitches (exercise stitches)

imposter au: 9/10 avoiding and protecting? Very graceful. Can fix slight injuries due to past dance injuries i.e. sprainend ankle muscle cramp? Taekwondo dance= better hand-to-hand combat. Better at hiding due to flexibility?

darling au: teaching teyvat dances and music from homeland. Obv vv graceful & elegant. Scares acolytes due to dangerous dance moves / literally folding in half. Dancer!reader is very flexible. No safety in mind, only cool dance move.

Senku!reader:

headcanons: ALBEDO/ RUBEDO. Teyvat equivalent of homeland materials/scientific reactions? Electricity?? ALICE!!! she would work w albedo n reader (like the dodocommunication device). Reader probably can figure out a portal to homeland but doesnt want to go back because SO MANY NEW THINGS TO EXPLORE AND LEARN!!

imposter au: surviving and thrIVING. Doesnt care about being hunted (but also doesnt really want to die) albedo finds reader n is ?cautious? but reader shows albedo science from homeworld. Albedo protect? Albedo n reader learns. After finding out that reader is indeed the creator, everyoen tries to apologise but albedo probably says that reader has gone back to their world because they dont want to keep being hunted (reader can probably “off themself” due to stress from being hunted) but reader is actually still in teyvat vibing n trying to research? Albedo keeps portal a secret?

darling au: acolytes LOVE to help reader find stuff to mess around with. Probably turns albedo’s lab into kindom of science 2.0. Instead of food n hymns people gift stuff like rocks and crystals and weird stuff to reader bc everyone knows n accepts that to be reader’s thing. IMPROVE DODOCOMMUNICATION DEVICE. People cant reallt go see reader much bc dragonspine is hecking dangerous so ppl r sad. But even better for reader bc can focus on research?

#sagau headcanons #sagau #genshin sagau

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janecrockeyre · 4 years ago

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scum villain is a greek tragedy disguised as a regular tragedy disguised as a comedy disguised as a danmei

this is going to be long, and this is only PART ONE.

a.k.a, Analysing the plot of Scum Villain’s Self Saving System through Aristotle’s Poetics, because I Have Mental Issues

Part One: Introduction and the Tragic Hero

Scum Villain’s Self Saving System is a tragedy disguised as a comedy, unless you’re Shen Yuan, in which case it’s a mixture of a romance and a survival horror. It's a fever dream. It's a horrible, terrible book that made me feel new undiscovered emotions when I finished reading it.

The thing is... SVSSS shares characteristics with some of the most famous tragedies in the West, such as Oedipus Rex, Medea, Antigone, the Oresteia... if you haven’t read these, I’ll explain everything. But the gist of my argument is this: SVSSS is the perfect tragedy. In triplicate.

Tragedy as a genre is old as balls and so it has meant slightly different things to different people over the last few thousand years. I'll be focusing on ancient Greek tragedy, which was performed at the yearly Festival of Dionysus in Athens during the 500-350s BC (give or take a hundred years). Aristotle, when writing about this very specific subset of tragedy, had no idea that one day Scum Villain would be written, and then that I would be using his work as a way to look at Shen Qingqiu’s Funky Transmigration Mistake. Anyway!

Greek tragedy greatly influenced European dramatic tradition. I have a lot of opinions about white academics idolising and upholding the classics as the "paragon of culture" but I'll withhold them for now. I have no idea if MXTX has read Greek tragedy or not, so don't take this as me saying they are writing it.

In my opinion, tragedy is a universal human constant. We are surrounded by pain and hurt and none of it makes any sense, so we seek to process that pain through drama, art, literature, etc. We want to understand why pain happens, and how it happens, and try to make sense of the senseless. The universe is cold and cruel and random. Tragedy eases some of that pain.

On that note: Just because I am analysing Scum Villain through a Greek lens doesn't mean that it was written that way. I'm pasting an interpretation onto the book when there's probably a very rich and deep history of Chinese tragedy that I just don't know about. If you ever want to talk about that, please, god, hit me up, I would love to learn about it!!

Anyway, tragedy. MXTX is excellent at it! Mo Dao Zu Shi? Painful dynastic family tragedy. Heaven Official's Blessing? Mostly romance, but she managed to get that pure pain in there, huh?

But in my opinion, Scum Villain holds the crown for the most tragic of her stories. MDZS was more of a mystery. TGCF was more of a romance. Neither of them shy away from their tragic elements.

Scum Villain would fit right in between the work of Sophocles, Euripides and Aeschylus. How? Let me show you. Join me on my mystery tour into the world of "Aristotle Analyses Danmei..."

Part One: The Tragic Hero

What is a tragic hero? Generally, Greek tragic heroes are united by the same key characteristics. He must be imperfect, having a "fatal flaw" of some kind. He must have something to lose. And he must go from fortune to misfortune thanks to that fatal flaw.

There are two (technically three) tragic protagonists in SVSSS and all of them are tragic in different but formulaic ways. Each protagonist has their own version of “hamartia” or a “fatal flaw”.

Actually, hamartia isn’t necessarily a flaw - rather, it is a thing which makes the audience pity and fear for them, a careful imperfection, a point of weakness in the character’s morality or reasoning that allows for bad things to happen to them. For example, in Oedipus Rex, the king Oedipus has a “fatal flaw” of always wanting to find the truth, but this isn’t exactly a flaw, right? Note: this flaw can be completely unwitting, as we see with Shen Yuan. It can also be something that the protagonist is born with, some kind of trait from birth or very young.

Shen Yuan

Shen Yuan’s “hamartia” is his rigid adherence to fate and his inability to read a situation as anything but how he thinks it ought to be. He believes that Bingmei will grow into Bingge, and it takes several years, two deaths, and some truly traumatising sex to convince him otherwise.

Shen Jiu

Shen Jiu’s fatal flaw is his cruelty. It is his own sadistic treatment and abuse of Binghe which directly leads to his eventual dismemberment. This is kind of a no-brainer. Of course, it isn't all that simple, and as an audience we pity him for his cruelty as much as we fear it because we know it comes from his own abuse as a child. This just makes him even more tragic. Delicious.

Luo Binghe

Luo Binghe’s fatal flaw is a complicated mix of things. It is his position as the “protagonist” which compels him to act in certain ways and be forced to suffer. It is his half-demonic heritage, something entirely out of his control, which sets in motion his tragic reversal of fortune when he gets yeeted into the Abyss. He also, much like Shen Yuan, has the propensity to jump to conclusions and somehow make 2 + 2 = 5.

As well as having their respective “flaws”, all three protagonists match the rough outline of a good tragic hero in another way: they are in a position of great wealth and power. Even when you split the different characters into different “versions”, this still holds true. Yes, Luo Binghe is raised a commoner by a washerwoman foster mother, but his dad is an emperor and he also ends up becoming an emperor himself.

Yes, Shen Jiu is an ex-slave and a victim of abuse himself, but Shen Qingqiu is a powerful peak lord with an entire mountain’s worth of resources at his back.

Shen Yuan is a second generation new money rich kid.

Bingge is a stereotypical protagonist with a golden finger. Bingmei is a treasured and loved disciple with a good reputation and a privileged seat by his shizun’s side.

In a tragedy, having this kind of good fortune at the beginning of your story is dangerous. Chaucer says that tragedy is (badly translated into modern english) “a certain story / of him that stood in great prosperity / and falls out of high degree / into misery, and ends up wretchedly”. If we follow this line of thinking, a good tragedy is about someone who has a lot to lose, losing everything because of one fatal point of weakness that they fail to address or understand.

If we look at Shakespeare, this is what makes King Lear such a fantastic tragic protagonist. He is a king in control of most of England, who from his own lack of wisdom and excess of pride, decides to split his kingdom apart to give to his daughters, favouring his murderous, double crossing progeny, and condemning his only actually filial daughter to death. He loses his kingdom, his mind, and his beloved daughter, all because of his own stupidity.

This brings us to:

Part Two: Peripeteia

This reversal of fortunes is called peripeteia. It is the moment where the entire plot shifts, and the hero’s fortunes go from good to bad. Think of it like one of those magic eye puzzles, where you stare at the image until a 3D shark appears, except you realise the shark was always there, you just couldn't ever see it, waiting for you, hungry, deadly, always lurking just behind that delightful pattern of random blue squiggles.

Each tragic hero has their own moment of peripeteia in SVSSS, sometimes several:

Shen Qingqiu

In the original PIDW, SQQ’s peripeteia presumably occurs when he finds out that Bingge didn’t perish in the Abyss but has actually been training hard to come and pay him back. There’s really not much I’m interested in saying here - as a villain, OG!SQQ is cut and dry, and the audience doesn’t really feel any pity or fear for him. As Shen Yuan often mentions, what the audience feels when they see OG!SQQ is bloodlust and sick satisfaction. There is also the trial at Huan Hua Palace, which I will talk about in Shen Yuan’s section.

Shen Yuan (SQQ 2.0)

One of SY’s most poggers moment of peripeteia is the glorious, terrifying section between hearing Binghe for the first time after the Abyss moment, and getting shoved into the Water Prison.

“Behind him, a low and soft voice came: “Shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu’s neck felt stiff as he slowly turned his head. Luo Binghe’s face was the most frightening thing he had ever seen.

The scariest thing about it was that the expression on his face was not cold at all. His smile wasn’t sharp like a knife. Rather, it showed a kind of bone-deep gentleness and amiability.”

This is the moment of true horror for Shen Yuan, because he knows what happens next: the plot unfurls before him, inevitable and painful, and he knows that death awaits him at Luo Binghe's hands (lol). Compare it with the bone deep certainty with which he faces his own downfall during the sham of a trial later in the chapter (I’ve bolded the important part):

“In the original work, Qiu Haitang’s appearance signified only one thing: Shen Qingqiu’s complete fall from grace. [...] Shen Qingqiu’s heart streamed with tears. Great Master… I know you’re doing this for my own good, but I’ll actually suffer if she speaks her words clearly. This truly is the saying “not frightened of doing a shameful deed, just afraid the ghost (consequences) will come knocking”!”

After the peripeteia is usually the denouement where the plot wraps up and the threads are all tied together leaving no loose ends, but because this tragedy isn’t Shen Yuan’s but the former Shen Jiu’s, it’s impossible to finish.

Shen Yuan cannot provide the meaningful answers that the narrative demands because 1) he doesn’t have any memory of doing anything, and 2) he wasn’t the person who did them. Narratively, he cannot follow the same path as the former SQQ because he lacks the same fatal flaw: cruelty.

This is why Binghe doesn’t kill him - because he loves him, rather than despises him. And this is why Shen Yuan has to sacrifice himself and die for Luo Binghe in order to save him from Xin Mo: because the narrative demands that denouement follows peripeteia, and SQQ’s fate is in the hands of the narrative.

(Side note: I believe that this literal death also represents the death of OG!SQQ's tragic arc. The body that committed all those crimes must die to satisfy the narrative. SQQ must die, like burning down a forest, so that new growth can sprout from the ashes. After this, Shen Yuan's story has more room to develop instead.)

It must happen to show Bingmei that SQQ loves him too. And this brings us to Bingmei.

Bingmei

Bingmei has two succinct moments of utter downfall. The first is a literal fall - his flaw, his demonic heritage, leads his beloved shizun to throw him down into the Abyss. From his point of view, SQQ is punishing him simply for the status of his birth. He rapidly goes from being loved and cherished unconditionally, to being the victim of an assassination attempt.

He realises that he is totally unlovable: that for the crimes of his species that he never had a hand in, he must pay the price as well: that his shizun is so righteous that no matter what love there was between them, if SQQ sees a demon, he will kill it. Even if that demon is Bingmei.

The second moment is when SQQ dies for him. Again, from his point of view, he was chasing after a man who was struggling to see him as a human being. Shen Qingqiu’s death makes Bingmei realise that he has been completely misunderstanding his shizun: that SQQ would literally die for him, the ultimate act of self sacrifice from love: that SQQ loved him despite his demon heritage.

Much like King Lear holding the corpse of his daughter and wailing in sheer grief and pain because he did this, he caused this, Bingmei gets to hold his shizun's cold body and cry his eyes out and know that it was his fault. (Kind of.)

(Yes, I’m bringing Shakespeare into this, no I am not justifying myself)

Maybe I'm a bit sadistic, but that scene slaps. Let me show you a comparison of scenes so you get the picture.

Re-enter KING LEAR, with CORDELIA dead in his arms; EDGAR, Captain, and others following

KING LEAR

Howl, howl, howl, howl! O, you are men of stones:

Had I your tongues and eyes, I'ld use them so

That heaven's vault should crack. She's gone for ever!

I know when one is dead, and when one lives;

She's dead as earth. Lend me a looking-glass;

If that her breath will mist or stain the stone,

Why, then she lives.

[...]

KING LEAR

And my poor fool is hang'd! No, no, no life!

Why should a dog, a horse, a rat, have life,

And thou no breath at all? Thou'lt come no more,

Never, never, never, never, never!

Pray you, undo this button: thank you, sir.

Do you see this? Look on her, look, her lips,

Look there, look there!

Dies

Versus this scene in SVSSS:

Luo Binghe turned a deaf ear to everything else, greatly agitated and at a loss of what to do. He was still holding Shen Qingqiu’s body, which was rapidly cooling down. It seemed like he wanted to call for him loudly and forcefully shake him awake, yet he didn’t dare to, as if he was afraid of being scolded. He said slowly, “Shizun?”

[...]

Luo Binghe involuntarily held Shen Qingqiu closer.

He said in a small voice, “I was wrong, Shizun, I really… know that I was wrong.

“I… I didn’t want to kill you…”

PAIN. SO MUCH BEAUTIFUL PAIN. Yes, I know Shakespeare isn’t Athenian, but he was inspired by the good old stuff and he also knew how to write a perfect tragedy on his own terms. Anyway. I’ll find more Greek examples later.

This post was a bit all over the place, but I hope it has been fun to read. Part Two will be coming At Some Point, Who Knows When. This is a bit messy and unedited, but hey, I’m not getting paid or graded, so you can eat any typos or errors. Unless you’re here to talk to me about Chinese tragedy, in which case, please pull up a seat, let me get you a drink, make yourself at home.

ps: if you want to retweet this, here is the promo tweet!

#svsss #scum villain #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #shen jiu #greek tragedy #hello followers this account has been silent for a long time but today i bring you whatever this is #long post #i am gonna cross post more art here from my twitter i think #you guys really like my shitposts on here

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dmagedgoods · 2 years ago

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For the PWOTR fanfic writer ask game! #2, #3, #8, #17

2. Companions: your OC’s favorite person to torment? The kinky or the non-kinky answer? 😏 Ah damn, it may be Daeran either way. Salvadore enjoyed it tremendously in the beginning when Daeran had no choice but to stay – mostly because he would still have this annoying, intriguing aasimar at his side, but also to see him in this new situation and struggle with it. Quite often, he takes pleasure from having him suffer just a tiny bit: by teasing him, by giving him a duty here and there he doesn’t fully like, by finding out if he has the potential to get embarrassed too … Well, since that’s not a fully platonic pleasure and we are in the slightly kinky department now: During certain games, he likes it to withhold things from him for a while he truly likes and wants or needs. No, not just the obvious but also small treats, delicious food, warmth, comfort … It's especially nice because Daeran isn't used to wait for satisfaction. To have him show patience or work for it makes it all the sweeter to give it to him eventually and see the desperation and eagerness with which he takes it. Am I going straight to horny jail again? If the question means torment in a non-gentle and non-loving way: Salvadore has a habit of toying with people should they make the mistake of irritating him. Lady Konomi is not a companion but the one out of the in-game characters who gets that treatment from him. He is very good with words, better than the game allows him to be with most answers, sadly, and he absolutely challenges her on her political views and knowledge all the time and twists it in ways to make her look like a fool (in cases when she doesn’t manage to do that on her own already). 3. Companions: your OC’s platonic best friend? You saw my musings about Regill and Woljif here already. 😊 8. First thing your OC did after closing the Worldwound? And my musings about bathing of course: Here. 17. Your OC’s high point? Oh, he had a few of those. I’ll list them in chronological order again: 1) He was appointed Knight Commander. Yes, Galfrey didn’t know him and it was a ridiculous, irresponsible decision to give a stranger such influence. Still, for some reason her foolish idea led her to the very right person – or that's his opinion of course. He was determined and thrilled to use this chance after all those experiences of running against walls every time he tried to make a difference. 2) Drezen became his city to rule and shape. 3) He realized that those powers, originally coming from the Abyss, were turned into something closer to heaven by his own strength and decided that no one would take them from him. 4) Daeran opened up to him and confessed his love for him in a deeply emotional way. 5) Daeran proposed to him. 6) Deskari, a demon lord, stepped back from him in fear of what he was able to do. He killed him and returned to Drezen victorious, now free from the threat of the world wound too and to actually build his kingdom.

#knight commander salvadore #oc: salvadore #my ocs #dmagedtexts #the knight commander #thank you so much!#💕

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djarinbarnes · 3 years ago

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me olvidarás - ten

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

Pairings: Javier Peña x female reader

Warnings for the chapter: 18+ smut, phone sex, longing, the L word. things........

Word count: 3.6k

Summary: an undeniable warm summer vacation in Bogotá. simply trying to get away from your nosey, boring parents and live for once, you meet a man who impresses you beyond where your imagination could ever take you.

a/n: so... this is the end. or is it? jokes aside - thank you so much to all of you who have read this, liked this, commented on it, reblogged it. It means so much to me that you’ve enjoyed reading it.

previous chapter · series masterlist

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

The night the two of you spend together is more than amazing. Javi takes you out to pick up empanadas and beer just like he promises, before the two of you drive out to the look out where you ate the same dinner last time.

He keeps the blanket from that night in his car, and you have no idea why. Maybe it’s because it makes him nostalgic the same way it does you by seeing it – or maybe it’s just something he keeps in his car for safety measures.

After you both finish your dinner and three beers each, you’re too caught up in each other to notice the sun that has been steadily descending the sky, turning the horizon into what could only be described as a Bob Ross masterpiece.

The sky was a mixture of reds, oranges, yellows, along with sporadic brush strokes of lilac and further up, turning dark blue. You pointed out the first star as it appeared on the horizon before snuggling closer to Javi’s warm chest.

It was so surreal, that he was leaving for Cali the next day, and there was only a slim chance that you would see him again before you left Colombia. The whole afternoon, Javi had promised you that it wasn’t just a vacation fling, and that he actually had meant what he said to you in the apartment earlier.

It eased your mind slightly, yet you still found yourself questioning his trustworthiness. With what you knew about Javi, you were sure that he was a womanizer, and that he indeed liked, no, loved the company of different women. How you could be the game changer, you had no idea.

With a swing of your leg, you straddle Javi on the hood of his car, looking deeply into his eyes in the search of something to help you believe him. You did see the feelings swirling in the chocolate orbs, yet it was nothing you hadn’t seen in his eyes before.

His hands find your hips and your hands his neck, drawing his lips to yours in a heartfelt kiss. You felt like you were pouring all of yourself into his lips at the contact, and it makes you moan out. His fingers are insisting as they collect your skirt in them, pulling it up and around your hips.

Your hands glide down and with nimble fingers you help him undo his pants for the second time that day, before pushing them down just enough to let you access his cock. Your lips meet again in a clash of teeth and tongue as he simply draws your panties to the side and entering you with one swift thrust.

He has easy access with the remains of himself within you, along with the wetness pooling in your panties every time you were simply around him. Your knees scrape over the fabric of the blanket, the rough metal of the hood underneath it harsh against your knees.

You whimper as his hands grab the globes of your ass, encouraging your movements to be more grinding than bouncing on him, and it makes you see stars. You realize that Javi knows exactly how to make you fall apart on top of him, and it scares you just a bit.

It scares you how much of an influence he has on you, and the pleasure he so easily can give to you, just with a touch of his hand and a slight reangling of his cock embedded in your heat. It isn’t long until his lips on your neck mixed with the feeling of him grinding against you is throwing you into the blissful abyss Javi is able to cast you into.

You bite into his neck as the feeling doesn’t cease, his hips still grinding into yours in the search of his own release, prolonging your euphoria for so long it makes you undeniably sensitive and turned on, yet again. You know he can feel how close you are, since he reangles his hips slightly, causing you to let out another whimper as you clench around him.

That throws him over the edge, and you relish in the feeling of his warmth filling you in the way only you suspected he was able to. You never wanted another man to fill you like Javi was at that moment. You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel him peppering kisses on your collarbone, and you whimper.

“Don’t wanna let go.” You breathe into his hair, feeling him halt his kisses against your skin. You breathe out into the night, feeling your eyes fill with tears. You have no idea where all these emotions are coming from, but one thing you do know, is that you don’t intend on Javi seeing you so vulnerable.

“Why does it feel like we’re never going to see each other again?” you whisper as you pull back, noting the glossy eyes on the man in front of you. You watch him for a short while before he leans forwards, catching your lips with his.

“I promise you,” he breathes against your lips before kissing you again, with more feeling than you have ever felt before, “that we will see each other again. That I will continue loving you, even though you’re far away. That I’ll visit you when I get the chance… and possibly you coming to visit me occasionally.”

You hug him in your arms, drawing him close yet again. You want to consume him whole; you want to embed him in your own body for eternity. “Maybe you can move here one day…” he breathes into your neck, and if he hadn’t been right there, you weren’t sure if you would have heard him.

“Maybe, Javi. The future has a lot of things in store for us.” You look up at the sky behind him, and over the roof of his car. You spot a star falling over the sky and you close your eyes in a deep, heartfelt wish. The darkness has almost consumed the two of you by now, the city below you being the only thing illuminating the two of you.

“Hermosa.” His voice is deep in your ear as you pick up the phone and put it to your ear.

“Hi Javi… You back at the hotel yet?” you hear him breathe his affirmation into the phone and you smile. “Are you finished for the night?” You silently hope that tonight is the night you finally get to live out your dream and have phone sex with Javi, like he’s promised you a few days earlier.

“If it’s up to me, I’m only getting started…” You immediately hear the tone in his voice, and you feel yourself flushing already. So he is in that mood.

“Are you… sure this line is secure…?” you breathe into the phone, and you hear his chuckle on the other end.

“You’re making it sound like we’re planning something illegal…” you giggle before shrugging your shoulders. “So… What are you wearing, hermosa?” You quickly shrug your thin robe off your shoulders before throwing yourself on the bed, minding the cord from the telephone.

“Well, now I’m not wearing anything…” you whisper sultrily before you giggle again. You run your hand over your exposed stomach, more than ready for what Javi has in store for you. You have a hunch that he knows what he’s doing.

You hear him mutter out a fuck under his breath along with a groan, and you don’t miss the sound of his clothes rustling on the other line. “Are you imagining me naked, honey?” you whisper, and you have no idea where the sudden boost of confidence comes from.

“Fuck yeah,” you hear him breathe again, and you just know he’s fisting his cock, his head thrown back all while the phone is tucked in between his head and his shoulder. “Fuck I’m so hard for you cariño.”

“I wish you were here baby.” You whimper, bringing a hand between your legs to rub at your clit. It still feels very different than when Javi touches you, yet with the thought of him you still feel the shocks running through you in tremors as you circle your clit.

“Rub it in, why don’t you…” You hear him breathe, and you let out a soft moan, rubbing your clit in harsher circles. “You took that very literally, huh?” you can almost hear his smirk through the phone, and you let out a moan again.

“What would you do if you were here, baby?” you breathe, tucking the phone in between your head and shoulder to free your other hand, letting it roam over your bare chest and your pebbled nipples. You whimper again and hear Javi’s deep grunt in your ear.

“I’d kneel between your legs… Kiss your soft skin. Play with your nipples like I usually do… Imagine that hermosa. Circling your nipples with my tongue… Biting your skin gently.” Javi grunts in your ear again, and you feel the coil tighten in your stomach at the thought of what Javi usually does to you.

His touch is something sacred to you, and you find yourself keeping the secret of him ever so close to you, not to spoil anything for yourself. You relish in the memory of his touch against your skin, and you feel the goosebumps rise as he keeps talking to you.

“I’m gonna kiss down your body… Nipping and sucking on the soft skin of your stomach… Over your pubic bone… Lifting your legs over my shoulders…” You remember how he usually manhandles you into whichever position he deems fit.

“Gonna lift your hips… Lowering my mouth to let myself taste your sweet, sweet essence, which makes me so damn hard just thinking about…” you whine as your fingers work faster, everything Javi is describing playing vividly behind your eyelids. “Can you feel me, hermosa?”

“God yes Javi…” you whine, letting him know the effect he has on you. You lift your hips off the mattress slightly, grinding into your hand before you dip two fingers into your core, the slight stretch taking you aback. “I can feel you, drawing me to the edge… I want you inside me.” You moan, almost desperately.

“I want to be inside you. I want to bury myself so deep within you, you see stars.” You groan at his words, knowing just how what he’s describing feels. You hear the slapping of his fist against his pelvis, letting you know just how frantic his pace is.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” you breathe, so close to an orgasm you can almost taste it. “I’m so close, Javi, make me cum, please!” you whimper before you throw your head back in a groan.

“Cum for me.” With his words you feel everything tense up and your vision blackening, you hear Javi’s breath hitch in his throat before he breathes your name, and you’re sure he’s released all over his hand and lower stomach. “Mmm.”

Just the sound of his moans makes you shudder, and you wish it was inside of you he released. Nothing compared to that feeling.

“I agree, baby.” He breathes, and you realize that you’ve said your thoughts out loud. You let out a giggle before you remove your fingers from your heat. You grab the phone with your clean hand, putting it back against your ear. A few moments pass in silence.

“I love you, Javi.” You smile into the phone, and you can almost hear his smile and little chuckle on the other end of the phone.

“I love you, hermosa.” He tells you back, and you smile wider. It feels good to hear the words coming from him. It gives you a sense of comfort with how confident he is in his words. You know by now that he means it.

“I’ll see you Monday?” you close your eyes and bite your lip, a sudden rush of tears welling up in your eyes. You have no idea if he’s going to make it home in time, but you secretly hope that God is on your side.

“I’ll make it. I promise.”

You spend the remaining days tidying up the apartment and packing your suitcase as Tuesday comes closer. You dread the day like it was the plague. You’d rather not leave Colombia at this point. You’d rather not leave Javi.

You had no idea when he’d be back. You hadn’t talked to him since you’d had sex over the phone, and it made you kind of sad. You wished he would’ve called you more than the times he already had, even though you knew he was busy.

You felt grumpier than usual, and you just knew that the absence of Javi was one of the things that played a part in your grumpiness. When your mother knocked on your apartment door, you were more than ready to rip her head off her shoulders.

You simply needed Javi back in your life once more before you left the country. You just had no idea if it was possibly by now. You grab the handle of your suitcase and hand it to your mother, watching her with crossed arms as she hands it to the cab driver, who loads it into the trunk with your parent’s suitcases.

You didn’t know if Javi had come home yet, and you couldn’t exactly visit his apartment when traveling to the airport. You did drive by though but saw no sign of life behind the windows. You felt your heart sink further into your chest as the cab parked in front of the airport.

It doesn’t feel right. You feel your stomach churn at the thought that you’re finally leaving, no matter how much you’ve dreaded this day. It feels rough – realizing that you won’t see Javi once more before you leave. You feel a lump form in your throat, and it’s still unsettling.

The airport is stuffy as you make your way through behind your parents, closed off in your own mind. You finally make it to the luggage drop in, where you hand over your suitcase to the staff. You wait impatiently behind your parents as they once more start arguing.

You feel yourself getting even more grumpy, and you turn around with your arms crossed over your chest. In the sea of people, you feel like you see him. Maybe you’re just imagining things, from the memory of him and the absence you’re feeling in your heart.

But then the person makes his way to you, and the golden aviators resting on his nose along with his mustache are things so recognizable to you by now. You let your arms fall and immediately feel all anger leave your body at the sight of him.

He extends his arms at you, and you run right into his warm, comforting embrace. You feel the tears well up in your eyes as his scent fills your nostrils, engulfing you within his arms. His hands are huge as they soothe down your back, drawing all your tension out of your body.

You know your parents have probably noticed the two of you by now, but in the moment, you don’t find yourself caring. To them you’re hugging a stranger, a man they’ve never seen before. But to you it’s something so different – something so sacred that you don’t want to let go of.

He kisses the top of your head before he holds you out in his arms, and you throw your arms around his neck and then you kiss him. You kiss him like you haven’t kissed anyone before, you pour all your love into that one kiss.

You hear your mother say your name, but you can’t bring yourself to care as you feel Javi’s lips moving against yours. You feel the tears streaming down your cheeks as you part from him, and you watch his cheeks visibly wet under the rim of the aviators.

“You made it.” You whisper, before you hug him close to you yet again. It feels so good to have him so close again. You don’t want it to end, even though you know it must.

“I promised, didn’t I?” he grins, and you know that he’s here on unofficial business. He chuckles as you pull back from him, and you take his hand, leading him over to a waiting area through the gate. You chuckle as he shows a boarding pass, and you’re both let through.

Your parents follow behind you, sitting away from the two of you even though you know your mother is more than interested in what the two of you are talking about since you didn’t include her in anything while you had been in Colombia.

“So you flew all the way here to say goodbye to me, just to fly back afterwards?” You run your fingers through his hair, playing with the brown strands as it comforts you.

“Of course I did.” He smiles that soft and inviting smile at you, and you feel your heart clench in your chest. You’re going to miss seeing that smile.

You don’t know how much time passes, but you do know your time is up when you hear your plane being called. You don’t feel the same amount of anger as you did before Javi showed up, and that calms you a bit.

You both stand up at the same time, and Javi pulls you into a warm hug which you know you’ll feel in your bones for a long time. He kisses your lips deeply, more than once, and you feel yourself melting into him.

“I love you.” He breathes, and you repeat the words right back at him. You look up at him with tears in your eyes, and you see the water collecting in his eyes as well. You kiss him one last time before you part from him, watching as your mom makes eyes at Javi.

You don’t say a word to your parents the whole flight home, just because you don’t want to remember everything right now. You’re thinking over the last three weeks and how they have changed your life. You never could have imagined that this would have happened.

A month later

It had been three weeks since you’d received the postcard from Javi. Your mother had been bothering you at every available moment, trying to get the name of the stranger you had been kissing at the airport before you left, the man you had been talking to on the phone multiple times and the man that had been sending you letters and the other way around as well.

You spend the most of your days walking around the town, though this walk takes you somewhere you don’t usually end up. You feel embarrassed as you pay for the item, and you feel the eyes of the cashier bore into you.

You quickly shove the package under your shirt, tucking it into the waistband of your sweatpants. Your feet feel heavier and heavier as you come closer to your house. You silently dread what’s waiting inside. You know your mother isn’t going to stop pestering you about Javi.

You try to sneak through the house and into the bathroom, but to no avail. Your mother catches you as you pass by the kitchen, and you know she isn’t going to say anything nice.

“We’ve thought about something with this… man… You’ve been seeing” She said the last word laced with so much venom, you were unsure if she was even talking about a person, and not a poisonous plant. Or like he was going to kill you if he got the chance. “We don’t want you in contact with him anymore.”

The words felt like a stab to your chest, and you felt betrayed. You knew she would have this reaction to it, mainly because she’d tried setting you up with one of her associates’ son for over a year. And yet you fell for a man 15 years your senior within three weeks. It hurts more than you’d like to admit.

“You know how men are. They only want one thing, and that’s to sleep with young, unsuspecting girls like you. He’s no good, and I don’t want you seeing him anymore. He’s going to leave you hanging anyways.” Your mother’s words were harsh. She’d never talked to you like that, and you were more than surprised. “It’d be better if you just forgot him.”

You huff at her words and roll your eyes. The package tucked into your sweatpants is suddenly feeling heavy – heavier than it should. You know your mother can ruin your life with nothing more than words.

“I guess that doesn’t apply to all men. Especially not the one’s you’ve tried to set me up with.” You turn on your heel and hear your mother’s exclamations as you shut the door to the bathroom behind you and lock the door.

You pull the package from the waistband of your sweats and pulls everything apart, baring your somewhat worst nightmare to you. You don’t know how to feel at this point, so you find yourself emotionless.

You reluctantly read the instructions and follow them, laying the white stick face down, before you start pacing the room. You contemplate on crying, but you know it wouldn’t make a difference.

We don’t want you in contact with him anymore. Your mother’s words resonated in your head as you waited. It’d be better if you just forgot him.

You lift the test off the counter after what feels like an eternity, and you reluctantly turn it over.

Forget him. You know you won’t be able to do just that. And the two lines on the test in your hand let you know it wouldn’t be so easy.

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

#javier peña #Javier Pena #javier peña x reader #Javier Peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier peña x you #pedro #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #ME OLVIDARAS

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eri-baby · 4 years ago

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chongyun crushing on a shy/dense noble fem!reader

a/n: this idea has been on my mind for a long time now, and i'm finally posting it! chongyun is probably very ooc, but listening to his character's voice-over's gave me the idea that he's just an earnest guy and i found that adorable.

i picture that chongyun first saw [ ] at a banquet where all the wealthy and influential were invited. she was quiet, reserved, rarely speaking to anyone. it was hard not to notice her when gossip about her was circulating all around the room. they called her a mist flower because she's "a cold person" and yet they appreciated her beauty. [ ] is expected to become one of the leaders of liyue in the future, maybe even one of the qixing, because of her family's influence and her being a well-educated young woman. chongyun ignored the rumors about her and respected her resolve to make liyue a better place.

from that day onward, chongyun wanted to know more about [ ]. they were similar, after all. chongyun and [ ] were both cold in the eyes of the public. he thought he would be able to get along well with her. he had nothing but respect for her.

whenever he had a comission, he asked clients or locals within the area about the noble [ ]. he discovered that [ ] often travels around liyue to personally watch over the state of each area. if anything were ever amiss, [ ] herself is the one who creates solutions and funds them. she shut down businesses that were swindeling people, found new jobs for the innocent workers involved, and earned back money for the victims. he found more admiration for her.

xingqui turns out to be somewhat childhood friends with [ ]. they spend time together every now and then. xingqui described her as a well-meaning girl who can never get her point across because of how awkward she is. she focuses more on the problem at hand and solving it rather than interacting with others which makes her come across as prickly.

chongyun was excited when he heard that [ ] had spoken about him. she asked xingqui about the young exorcist, and commented that exorcists like chongyun help maintain liyue's glory. it took him two months to stop centering all conversations around [ ]'s passing comment.

he has attempted to speak with her, even frequenting areas she was said to be seen in often, but the most he would get were glimpses of her before she scurried off or was escorted away by one of her chaperones. it disappointed him greatly that he never had the oppertunity to speak to her since he was so invested in her and her work.

i think he would barely realize his own feelings for a total stranger. xingqui and xiangling are sick of hearing about [ ]. they're scared of the day [ ] actually talks to chongyun. she's the only other thing on his mind other than training and exorcism.

he was disappointed and ready to give up on ever talking to [ ] after months of trying, until he was assigned to a comission in her estate. apparently weird things have been happening in her room. items have been misplaced, at night there were whispers coming from the closet, banging noises were coming from the walls. it caused her family great distress.

chongyun was, needless to say, stressed about making an appearance in [ ]'s household. how should he introduce himself? how should he speak to her? will he be able to speak to her? what should he bring? he bothered both xingqui and xiangling as he asked all these questions over and over again. xingqui was so annoyed that he finally relented, telling chongyun that lady [ ] is fond of the glaze lily flower. chongyun was gone before any of them could say another word.

the local florist in liyue harbor had not even a single glaze lily in stock. chongyun had to go all the way to a faraway town where a different florist was. he was lucky it was a colder day. with a boquet of glaze lillies in hand, he was ready to travel back to lady [ ]'s estate. on the way back, he passed by a little girl who was in tears. the little girl had dirt stains on her clothes but no injuries. she begged him to save a girl who had gotten trapped in a cave. the little girl was looking for her doll and she asked the girl, who's physical description matched [ ]'s, to enter the cave with her. the girl relented but inside they were attacked by a ruin hunter. the girl managed to get the young child out of the cave before rubble fell over the other entrance. it had been a long time but the girl still hasn't turned up.

chongyun immediatly dropped the glaze lillies in his hand and rushed to the direction the little girl pointed in. the cave had two openings, one of which had been blocked by rubble. chongyun went through the second one. he found at the other end lady [ ] fighting off a ruin hunter with her bow. chongyun finished it off for her.

he immediatly dropped down beside her and asked her if she was okay politely. she had no idea what to say, in fact she wasn't even expecting any help, and nodded quietly. he noticed that her ankle was swolen so he used his cryo vision to ease her pain. he quickly helped her up, even carrying her despite his fear of triggering his congenital positivity. he was lucky that the weather was cold and so was the cave, and that [ ]'s body temperature was also cold because of her vision.

"I am Chongyun, from an exorcist family. I was heading to your home, Lady [ ], to deal with the evil spirit in your room, until the little girl you had rescued stopped me and asked me to help you."

"I... see. We'll have to double your payment for saving me, Exorcist Chongyun."

"Oh, no! My services are free of charge!"

she became quiet and smiled to herself. he could hear her quiet giggles, making his cheeks heat up slightly. he worried about his congenital positivity.

both of them were somewhat awkward and dense. the truth was that they were both panicking. chongyun had no idea what to say and neither did [ ].

chongyun was the first to speak after a few minutes of awkward silence

"I'm sorry I don't know what to say to you."

"I have no idea what to say as well."

they both laughed together about being dense in social situations. from then on, conversation flowed somehow a little easier because they found that they had something in common. the more they spoke to each other, the more similarities they found.

it turns out that her reputation of being a cold person was a result of her being misunderstood. [ ] doesn't know how to say things other than straightforwardly, and when she panics she has a tendency to freeze up making her tense in conversations.

chongyun as well had a one-track mind. everything he did was to become a better exorcist, which made him terrible at conversations especially outside of the exorcism business.

she spoke about the responsibilities of supporting the nation of liyue and her dream of traveling every inch of their lands and waters because she wanted to be one of the pillars of liyue in the future. it was her dream to become a qixing, like ningguang, to support liyue's growth.

he shared his dream of becoming the greatest exorcist. he wanted to find an evil spirit or demon that wouldn't avoid his congenital positivity, and to be able to control his congenital positivity. his dream was to rid the world of all evil spirits as the greatest exorcist in all of history.

they each shared the hardships of reaching their dreams and their desires to reach their goals. it was everything and more than he imagined talking to her. he had always wanted this oppertunity to speak to someone similar to him.

they reached the outside of the cave only to be met with servants from [ ]'s estate. she was taken away from him and rushed back to her home while he was thanked for saving her. apparently there was no evil spirit in their estate, at least not a real spirit. they were abyss mages planning something terrible again and [ ] was the victim. her family sent servants to pick her up from this town, only for them to hear from the little girl about what had happened. chongyun was greatly compensated for his help. he didn't even get the chance to say goodbye to [ ].

weeks had passed without chongyun seeing nor speaking to [ ]. he sent her a "get well soon" present but received no response. each passing day made him more and more depressed, which xingqui was not used to. xingqui told him that [ ]'s family was probably trying to keep her away from the public and were being overprotective but it didn't make anything better.

aether came in with paimon and a package in hand. he had somewhat a smug smile on his face, having some awareness of chongyun's crush on [ ]. he said that he had been comissioned by lady [ ] to deliver the package to chongyun directly. without allowing aether to finish his sentence, chongyun took the package from the blond's hands and carefully opened it.

inside it he found a letter and a jade insignia. the jade had an intricate glaze lily symbol carved on it with other symbols chongyun could not recognize. he brought out the letter and read it.

Exorcist Chongyun,

I apologize for not sending you a thank you note earlier nor seeing you at all these past few weeks. I haven't found a perfect oppertunity to escape from my family until now. My leg is fully healed, and I can even run. Please be assured that your present and the glaze lillies you had intended to give me have reached me. The little girl I was helping gave them to me and said they were from you. Thank you for such thoughtful presents.

I am aware that you don't accept payments, so instead I have sent you this as a gift. It's an insignia that identifies colleagues of mine and allows them to enter into one of my private and personal cottage. Rest assured, there will be plenty of cold sweets for you waiting there and the cottage itself is kept cold.

Please see me at Guyun Stone Forest. The insignia will lead you to me.

From [ ].

he barely finished that letter and he was already out. as the letter stated, the insignia did lead him to the secret cottage. on one of the mountains, there was a contraption made of stone that he would place the insignia in and then a stairway would appear. it led him up to a snowy floating island with a cozy cottage.

[ ] was sitting on a swing supported by a tree and waved to catch his attention.

"Greetings, Exorcist Chongyun."

"Hey, Lady [ ]."

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin x reader #x reader #chongyun x reader #chongyun #i'm so sorry for the brief ending #i already have part two in mind #but i probably won't post it

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hot-wiings · 4 years ago

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The One Where You're Stuck At A Work Christmas Party, But At Least You Have Your Cute, Charming Coworker At Your Side.

Edited: 12-8-2020

"Would you like to pay for that upfront, or at the end of the night?"

“Isn't this an open bar party?”

You stared at the bartender with confounded and bewildered eyes and she nervously shifted as she stood, her eyes looking at the counter, occasionally glancing at other people at the bar avoiding your eyes. You took one strong whiff in her general direction and you could get a good reading on her aura, her feelings.

Molten Cheese; Anxiety. Rotten Eggs; Nervousness. Formaldehyde; Fear.

It was your quirk that gave you such access to her vibes. You could smell emotions and feelings, provided you were within smelling distance then you could release your on pungent scents and alter someone's emotions, however, the stronger the emotions of a person then sometimes it would alter your mood. When you were younger you couldn't understand it, you didn't understand these feelings you felt or why you could smell people so strongly, as you got older you realized what each scent meant, the more pungent the stronger the feeling, the more floral meant someone was in a positive mood, and the more putrid meant they were the latter.

“I’m sorry ma’am, this is not an open bar. I can make a tab for you...”

You had to roll your eyes. Your company was probably the only company not to spring for an open bar for a Christmas party. You knew it was to discourage drinking, but they had to understand, as a hero, you dealt with a lot of things on your average day. The people you don't save, the countless lives that were waste and killed, children and the elderly, the horrors you saw on the battlefield. Sometimes you needed to let loose from all it, and whom more responsible to drink than a party full of heroes? Your bosses would digress.

Of course, none of this was the bartender's fault, and you felt slightly bad for getting upset after you smelled her aroma. She was young, obviously new to her job, and nervous to be dealing with alcoholics and tipsy people for the first time. Even if everyone here was probably a hero, it could still be very daunting. You never knew how someone would react under the influence, especially someone you didn't personally know.

“This is your first day on the job isn't it?”

“Is it that obvious? It's not just my first day, it's my first job.”

The girl nervously chuckled while she scratched the back of her neck, still nervously avoiding your eyes. You tapped your foot against the floor, her strong nerves beginning to affect your mood, and take over your nervous system. This was a great quirk to use on the field, especially in hostage situations, it helped you understand villains and easily sway their decision to harm people, but your mood was so easily affected by other negative emotions. It was so draining to try and change someone's mood to stop you from being affected, you changed one person, and soon three negative auras replacing it.

“That explains a lot, you're perfume is so pungent."

"Oh! You're the smelly hero, oh gosh- I- uh..."

Her eyes lit up as she realized who you were and she smiled, but the smile quickly faded as she realized what she had called you. It wasn't the first time someone realized who you were and it wouldn't be the last but never had someone so horribly botched your hero name. Maybe it was the nerves, the anxiety, the embarrassment, and every strong negative emotion she was feeling being absorbed up into your mood, but you felt completely mortified. You felt embarrassed with her and suddenly, you were crossed with the anxious thought about whether that's what your coworker called you behind your back. You wanted to cry. It was so irrational, but that's what her vibes were making you feel.

Christmas Cookies; Joy. Pine Trees; Relaxation. Candy Canes; Energetic.

The new smells engulfed you. They surrounded you as if you were inside a bakery. They entered your lungs, with each breath out and each new intake of oxygen it was there, you couldn't escape it and you didn't want to. It was distinctly joyful, distinctly happy and laidback, distinctly him. No matter how his smells changed on a day to day basis, you would recognize his scent anywhere. It was so pungent, so strong, and you could smell a lingering scent of the ocean. The smells wrapped you up and shifted your mood, they took away every negative emotion coursing through your body and replaced it with those of positivity.

You looked over your shoulder with a smile on your face as you spotted him. The Stun Gun Hero: Charge Bolt. He had a grin on his face as he sauntered over to you at the bar and occupied the barstool next to you.

"Sunset rum for the lady, on me."

The woman scurried away to make the drink with an embarrassed blush on her cheeks. You turned to Denki and smiled. You didn't know if it was purely lack of brain cells, or what, but the man was always grinning. He was always smiling, he was always happy. Even on bad days, even when battling villains he seemed to reek of dopamine, serotonin, happy endorphins. You didn't know how he did it, but you were grateful for it. On days when you were stuck in the office doing paperwork or studying up on the villains you were tracking down, your coworkers seemed to bring you down. So many negative feelings from different people took hold of you, sometimes you couldn't handle all of them at once and you needed to escape it all.

That's when you discovered Denki Kaminari, a faint scent of happiness among the abyss of dark emotions. Sometimes you found yourself craving his scent, sometimes you found yourself just standing outside of his office door, just breathing him in. You were sure he'd find it weird that you stood outside his office door trying to get a whiff of his smell, but it was so much more than that. He helped you feel good, he helped the bad feelings go away and he didn't even know.

"You don't have to pay for my drink."

"But I want to, besides, I can tell you've had a pretty rough day."

“I'd rather be at home, management said I had to come, apparently I'm not social enough, and I need to strengthen my relationships with the other heroes.”

“What a pain. I came for the drinks, didn't realize they weren't free.”

The bartender set down your drink in front of you and you took a swig from it, letting the alcohol wash over your senses as you turned to Denki again. It was a strong drink and you could already feel it taking its toll, but Denki had paid for it, and wouldn't it be rude not to drink it?

“Fuck work parties, am I right?”

“Well, they're not all bad. The foods free, and I'm sitting here with a really beautiful woman.”

A blush makes way across your face, dusting your cheeks a pink color as you turn your gaze back to your drink. You thought about how to reply to his blatant flirting as you swirled the liquid around in your cup. He always threw comments like this towards you. After a training session, after you'd taken down a villain together, when you were stuck in the elevator, and even by the coffee machine. If it was anybody else but Denki, you would've filed a sexual harassment charge, but Denki was so kind and so nice about it. His smell wasn't hostile or putrid, it was always sweet. He never threw these compliments your way when you were alone, he always did it in the presence of others. He did that to avoid making you uncomfortable by giving you flirtatious attention alone, but you always took it as ungenuine feelings, but he did it so often, and so kindly, perhaps he did mean his words. Maybe it was his feelings affecting yours, or maybe it was the alcohol, but you flirted back in your own coy way.

“True’ and I have the pleasure of having the company of such a charming, handsome man.”

Denki lightly chucked at your words, flattered and surprised you flirted back. Through all his time knowing you, you just blushed and thanked him for the compliment. Truthfully, he was ready to give up on his attempts, but you had never told him you didn't like his subtle advances. His chuckle only increased the blush on your cheeks. You brought your cup up to your lips and emptied the remainder of the contents down your throat, letting the liquid courage wash over you completely, enhancing your sense of smell and making you slightly tipsy. You always had been a lightweight, and how were you to know sunset rum was eighty percent alcohol, that's sixteen times the amount of the average beer.

“So I- Are you okay?”

Your eyes were closed, making you look asleep. Leaning closer to Denki, trying to get a better whiff of him, you were practically falling out of your barstool. Denki stood up from his stool and gently pushed you back into yours so you wouldn't fall, but instead, you gripped onto his jacket and pulled him closer to you.

“I’m fine! You just- God! You smell like Christmas!”

Denki would have blushed or laughed at your words, but your tone had gotten louder and your words were slightly slurred. You were obviously drunk, or at least seriously tipsy. If he had known you were such a lightweight he would've ordered you a lighter drink.

“Ma’am, can I have water?”

“Sure.”

“I don't need water, I'm not drunk.”

“Right, you want to jump my bones sober then?”

Your hands were still gripping Denki's jacket and your nose was in his neck, practically hugging him. In your defense, he was the one who made the first move by pushing you back in your chair.

“I’m not trying to jump your bones! You just smell so good, you always smell good.”

You whined your words out and a deep blush came across Denki as your words entered his ears. Denki would never admit it to anyone, but the real reason he came here tonight was because he heard you would be there. Over the years of working with you, he had developed a small crush. You were so admirable, so amazing. You dedicated your career not to just saving people, but using your quirk to save the criminals, to understanding them and taking them down using pathos rather than violence.

“I always smell good?”

“Yes! God yes. I love the way you smell, it makes me so happy and warm. Sometimes I walk by your office just to steal some of your serotonin.”

Your confession made Denki smile as the bartender set down a cup of water in front of you. Embarrassment flooded your body as you realized what you had said to him. When you were tipsy you could say some honest things, but this was a deep secret you'd been harboring.

“I shouldn't have drank, I can't believe I said that. I- I should go home.”

You stood up from the stool with your bag in hand, tripping slightly as you went. Denki quickly grabbed onto your wrist and tugged you towards him. Still buzzed, you didn't fight him and tumbled towards his chest.

"Don't go, you're drunk. If anything happened to you, I wouldn't forgive myself. Have a glass of water."

"This is embarrassing. I'm not being creepy, I swear. Your happy mood, it helps calm me down."

“You know, my flirting isn't meaningless. I think your quirk is neat and special, I think you're neat and special. If smelling me helps you calm down, then by all means, next time come into my office."

You took the glass of water and took tiny little sips to help sober yourself up. A blush spread across your face again, Denki had just indirectly confessed to you. You thought his flirting was meaningless, you thought he didn't really like you like that. You had such a fear of rejection around him, scared he would find your smelling habits weird, but he didn't. You leaned up to Denki again, this time was not to smell him drunkly, but to place a quick, sweet, chaste kiss on his cheek.

"Think you can say all of that to me tomorrow when I'm sober?"

"Depends. Tomorrow's Christmas, do you want to see me tomorrow, or are you going to regret tonight? Regret accepting my drink, regret spending the evening with me."

Denki bit his lip, and a new scent came from him. A foreign one. You had never smelt such a thing coming from him. He had always been so happy, but now you could smell fear, anxiety, everything the waitress reeked of earlier. It appeared you were not the only one with worries and fear of rejection. Lacing your fingers with Denki's, you reassured him the only way your inebriated mind could think of, by using a pickup line.

"You wanna know what I told Santa I wanted for Christmas?"

"Hmm?"

"Told him I wanted you."

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drxwsyni · 4 years ago

Text

Prey ︱ Yandere Keigo Takami x f!Reader

@theladyshinigami asked: “Hello! First of all, I've been looking for an account like yours for a long ass time, so thank you for existing. Second, may I request a yandere Hawks pinning for a foreigner with a siren quirk that can hypnotize people when she sings? Thanks again”

a/n: thanks for the request babes! hope you like how this turned out!

warnings: swearing, drugging, mild violence, mention of mutilation

2.9k words

It had been no surprise when the people around you deemed your future to be damned after hearing about your quirk.

Like the mythical siren, you could hypnotize people just by singing to them. It put them under a trance, allowing you to do whatever you saw fit with their mindless bodies. As much as you knew it would be more honourable to take the high road and contain your abilities, the potential it held was too great to pass up.

Now, you weren’t a ruthless killer or anything of the sort. No—you simply used your abilities every so often on the unsuspecting lowlife who probably deserved a little bad luck. Almost like a vigilante of sorts.

For the longest time your actions went unnoticed. You were smart—never staying in one place for too long. The fruits of your labor even brought you to different countries.

But good things could only last for so long, and much to your dismay—a certain avian hero picked up on your actions.

In any other case, this would’ve meant the end of your less than honourable career. But instead, the man you came to know as Hawks chose to turn a blind eye to your antics. You should be grateful—your slip up didn’t end with you in prison.

But the reality you faced now was by no means preferable.

Since being initially caught in the act, you could feel an almost constant looming presence above you. Distant, but there nonetheless. You never actually saw anything that would hint at a shadow, but the blanketed weight of instinct was undeniable. Most notably so was when you were forced to lure in unsuspecting criminals to make ends meet.

A once simple and painless task was now something you dreaded.

The crimson vale of feathers would flash before you, their owner taking a stance when you had the job done. By then you’d swiped any necessary valuables from your latest victim—but that never seemed to bother him. Like the visible vacantness of any belongings from them wasn’t a problem whatsoever, the winged hero would tie up your loose ends. Even said you were helping him out, despite your assistance not exactly being legal.

It lasted like that for a long time. Slowly, you grew to hate the means in which you kept yourself on your feet. Not because your sense of morals were shifting to hold concern for those unfortunate enough to be caught in your sights. Rather, it was because of the sights you were caught in.

Those narrowed and piercing—searching eyes always found you in your worst times. And his attitude, it was enough to give you an aneurism. So nonchalant with his dismissal of your behaviour, such a thing that goes against everything he stands for.

But perhaps, this should’ve been the first red flag that showed you he wasn’t the hero everyone knew him to be—something you were supposed to pick up on and use it to your advantage.

You didn’t have time for that though. It was more important to simply erase his taunting words and carelessly intrusive behaviour from your mind for the sake of your sanity. That, and you were much more concerned with making your next move—one that’d hopefully lead you out of the country.

Or at least far enough away from Hawks.

The back and forth to the pawn shop wasn’t the most enjoyable outing, but it was necessary. You could sense that the owners were at least a little suspicious of how much you frequented their establishment—especially given the items you’d exchanged.

Thankfully, the shop was on the bad side of town, meaning they were quite used to people like yourself. Slowly but surely, the stash you kept hidden in a floor vent in your shambly apartment grew steadily. It wasn’t much at first, but as of late you were making a point to be increasingly active with your efforts.

Everything finally came down to one night—you being immensely grateful to your recent catch. The old man was practically dripping with sin, along with undeserved riches to boot. You’d followed him from the luxurious nightclub, where you knew some less than honourable individuals did depraved things to the vulnerable.

It was just your luck—the man was mind numbingly drunk, stumbling back and forth on his feet in an attempt at a walk in a straight line.

While your quirk wouldn’t get rid of his uneasiness, it would give him more motivation to make his way towards a certain direction. One that led him right into your hands, along with his overpriced belongings.

The deed was done in less than a minute—speed being essential in not getting caught. But you weren’t the only one who held that strength to a high standard. Just as you were pocketing the last of his trinkets, you glanced upwards towards the pitch black night sky. Your eyes focused on the abyssal expanse for a few seconds—now was about the time you’d expect the crimson of his wings to grace your presence. It’d be followed by his unbearably confident remarks, and the frustrating way he’d disregard you as a threat.

But the last minute arrival never came. For the first time since you met him, Hawks didn’t show up to court off your latest prey to the police. Frankly, you didn’t mind it.

The man would never know it was you anyways, you being safe enough to keep your face hidden from prying eyes. It just meant you could return home, one very successful haul in tow with complete peace befalling your mind. No dealing with Hawks’ irritating antics—just a quiet walk back all by yourself.

Naturally, the night’s events had you in high spirits. If your calculations were correct, this would be just enough for your stash to equal out to an amount sufficient enough to get you moving again.

The thought brought a smile to your face, and with a spring in your step you trailed back to the cheap and small apartment complex you called your temporary home.

Every time you opened the front door you cringed at the sound of rusty metal rubbing together on the hinges. Now was no different as you shut the rickety frame back into its closed position, sliding the lock into place.

Removing your shoes with a sigh, you trudged to the back of the apartment where your bedroom was stationed. A cold breeze washed over you as you pushed the slightly ajar door open fully. The window was open, causing the curtains to sway under the wind's influence. Shivering slightly at the sensation, you threw your bag onto the bed and made your way to the worn down looking window.

The lock never worked on the damn thing, so there was never a need to care about if it was closed or not. But on a chilly night like tonight, you mentally cursed yourself for not taking more care in regarding it before you left. It got hot in the daytime, often resulting in it being left open for the most part. It’s only expected that every now and then you’d leave the damned thing like that, now mentally cursing yourself for doing so as the room’s temperature was unpleasantly low, shutting it with a thud.

You moved back towards your bed, unzipping your backpack and emptying the contents atop the duvet. Sorting things was always the most interesting part of your night—seeing just what people were willing to spend their money on. You picked up the wad of cash first, being decent enough not to just take his whole wallet. After thumbing through the stack, you took a bobby pin laying on your nightstand and clipped it over the papers, holding them all together.

In your early days of using your quirk to your advantage, you made the mistake of keeping all of your findings in one place. Call it karma, but at one point you were the one being robbed, both cash and other luxurious items going missing.

Now, you were smarter than that. Learning from your mistakes, you kept the two piles separate. At the moment, all cash was hidden in the floor vent.

Getting on your knees in front of the grating, you lifted the top off, letting the light from the room’s lamp flood into the small space.

The cash was gone.

Your hand dived into the metal-lined crevice, sweeping back and forth frantically. There was no way it could’ve fallen back further into the vent. The heating didn’t push that way, and even if it did you always kept the cash bundled—it was too heavy to be blown away out of arm's reach.

Your heart sunk into your chest, a gut wrenching despair taking hold of you.

“Looking for something?”

That voice—you knew who it belonged to before your head whipped around to face the direction it came from. Standing in the doorway to the bedroom, wings outstretched almost threateningly was the avian hero you’d come to hate.

And god, that smirk plastered across his face. He always wore it, like the damn thing was a permanent expression solidified into his being.

You stilled your actions, eyes unmoving from him. “Where’s my cash?” In a way, you could almost take pride in how you managed to keep a calm and steady voice. The rage was still there, but it was contained—for now.

Hawks moved past the doorway, casually stepping towards the closest nightstand. Like he hadn’t even heard you question, he idly picked up a framed photo—the only one you had of your home town that was thousands of miles away. You’d taken the shot at sundown, showcasing all its best features in the honeyed lighting cascading over it.

“Y’know, it’s almost impressive—the money you rake in.” He was still looking at the photo, eyes searching the minuscule details your camera picked up—one that you had to sell for some extra cash in the early days.

He set the frame down, smirk falling ever so slightly. It was the first time he looked even remotely serious—the casual leaned back stance doing nothing when you saw the dangerous glint in his eyes. “I simply...took it upon myself to donate the cash to a better cause.”

Your blood ran cold, the constricting feeling in your chest tightening at his words. For a moment you couldn’t respond, too mortified by his statement. The room was so quiet that you could hear a pin drop, until forcing yourself out of a stupor, you responded. “...You did what?”

In the most condescending tone of voice you’d ever heard, the winged man replied. “Hey, don’t look so surprised. I mean what were you even gonna do with it anyways?”

Still kneeling on the floor, you felt pure, seething hatred for the hero in front of you. “What was I—I was going to use it to get away from your deranged ass!”

The sound of your raised and angered voice reverberated off the walls, him paying no mind to it. “Oh, were you now?”

Almost in a lazy manner, Hawks pushed off the nightstand he was leaning on. “C’mon, you didn’t really think I’d let you get away with robbing people.” The sound of his boots hitting the floor seemed louder than they should’ve as he stalked towards your frozen form. “I mean that would be so...unheroic of me, after all.”

Even in the dim lighting of the room, his eyes were almost inhumanely bright as he looked at you like you were a piece of fresh meat.

You should’ve known this would happen. All this time spent putting together enough cash just to get yourself out of this city and far away from the man looming over you—none of it really mattering in then end.

Not if you couldn’t get out of here.

The stash of money might be gone, but you still had the belongings on your bed. They would go for a good price, and if you played your cards right it’d be enough to get you far enough away from him. It would be tight—but it’s possible.

As far as you were concerned, Hawks was no more virtuous than the lowly individuals you entranced with your quirk. It may have taken this moment to solidify it, but now you knew who he was.

Not a hero, just a man pretending to be one for his own gains.

You opened your mouth, prepared to voice whatever melody came to mind. The feeling of a hand clamping over it came before you could manage a noise, and then your back colliding with the cold hardwood.

The feeling of Hawk’s weight on your body felt crushing, rendering you completely immobilized underneath him. He had you hands pinned above your head with his free one in an almost bruising grip, you unable to move away as he sat on your hips.

“Ah ah ah—little bird.” He grunted through the words, still steady as you made some final weak attempts to throw him off before resigning to your predicament for the moment.

Hawks let a few seconds go by after you stilled, eyeing you warily in a way that you could only assume was to make sure you were fully calmed down. He let out a breathy sigh, “So, here’s how this is gonna work…”

He paused, lips upturning ever so slightly before continuing. “I’m gonna take my hand off, and if I hear so much as a peep from you, I’ll rip your fucking vocal cords out. Got it?” The casual look to his face gave a stark and disturbing contrast to his gruesome words.

You swallowed dryly, tears prickling in your eyes. He knew how much weight those words held—your quirk riding on the fact that your means of speaking were intact.

The winged man tilted his head slightly, a look of what felt like fake concern flashing across his face. “Hey, don’t go looking so scared. I don’t wanna do that, I promise.”

His words did little to ease your worries—the promise meaning absolutely nothing to you.

“Now, if you behave then maybe I’ll consider keeping you awake on the way home, okay?”

On the way home—what the fuck is he talking about?

A crease formed between your brows in confusion, mind racing from unknown sentiment. One might think you’d been running for miles with the way your heart beat was hammering inside your ribcage. But it would turn out that fear was much better at producing the same effect.

If you could manage even a second to use your quirk, he’d be done for. You shakily nodded your head, the grip on your face making the action somewhat difficult.

Hawks seemed pleased with your forced compliance, smirk widening in satisfaction.

“There’s my good little bird, now—”

His hand lifted from your mouth, and without hesitation you activated your quirk.

Or at least you tried.

You should’ve known, the man pinning you to the ground was notorious for being incredulously fast. So much so that you didn’t even see him move, only registering the feeling of a cloth sealing over your mouth and nose.

That smell—sickeningly sweet. Your eyes blew wide at the realization, body thrashing beneath him. Looking at him pleadingly didn’t work, especially when the tears running down your face blurred your vision. In the midst of you violently kicking and attempting to throw him off you, Hawks effortlessly dealt with the consequences to your actions.

“Don’t be like that, I tried—”

Even in your weakening state, you managed to knee him hard. But it was no more in force than a kitten scratch. It may have taken him off guard, even interrupting his train of thought, but he was still the one on top.

You knew you would have bruises later on, but that was the least of your worries right now.

“I tried to warn you, and it’s only fair that I hold up my end of the deal.”

The strenuous efforts of your resistance had you sucking in involuntary gulps of breath in exhaustion. You could feel your mind spinning, not being able to focus on any one thing in particular. It was a lightheaded sensation, you not even realizing that your limbs fell almost completely limp in his hold.

Your focus drifted away from the avian human above you, landing on the once opened bedroom window. Your eyelids felt increasingly heavy, once loudly muffled screams turning into defeated whimpers—and then silence.

Hawks released his iron hold on your wrists, leaning back with a deep and relieved sigh. The cloth was shoved back into his pocket, and he mentally thanked himself for bringing his car so he wouldn’t have to fly you back to his apartment for everyone to see.

It wasn’t the first time he regarded your sleeping form, face peaceful and distinctively not contorted with fear—and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. He’d known your caution well, seeing it in action the countless times he’d pry his eyes into your life. Whether it be from above on those late nights of you scrounging for cash, or through your window as you sifted through the stockpile of valuable collections. Always thinking that your efforts of evasion were enough.

Surely, after going so long with the same routine—laying low and moving against those who had bad luck coming when the opportunity arose—this new stop in your travels would show no need for change. Even when he made his presence obvious, you stayed set in your ways.

You didn’t deem him a threat. You thought that you were the apex predator, and he was nothing more than a scavenger reaping the rewards of your latest catch.

And now, he would teach you that no—he was the predator, and you were the prey.

#yandere bnha #yandere hawks #yandere keigo takami #yandere mha #yandere my hero academia #yandere #yanderecore #yandere x you #yandere keigo x reader #yandere writing

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thoughts-on-bangtan · 4 years ago

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Hello, I am a recent Namjin fan and have been watching them closely and wow they really are different with each other. For someone who isn’t so into touch and skinship, Namjoon sure doesn’t have a problem with either being touched by Jin or touching Jin himself. I noticed something though and wanted to ask your opinion please. Some of the videos I’ve seen, and maybe it’s the way they’re cut; show Namjoon being so much more assertive with Jin. Like it’s sometimes hard to watch how he runs after him, or switches places with other members to be next to Jin. I’ve never seen Jin do any of that. The touches - yes and the whole watch thing is a bit mind blowing but sometimes I feel a little bad for Namjoon. I’ve never really seen Jin brush him off but it feels like Joon does a lot of the work if you know what I mean?

I’m fairly certain I’ve seen one of those videos by chance on twitter a few days ago and I think you might’ve simply slightly misunderstood what the video (and similar ones) tried to achieve/communicate. Instead of giving you the impression that it’s only Namjoon “chasing” after Seokjin, so to speak, it’s rather just a cute compilation of those moments meant to simply be, well, cute and show a pattern in his behavior, nothing more than that. If you look around, you’ll find plenty of examples where Seokjin does the same, as in nudges other members aside so he can be next to Namjoon and alike.

When you look at videos of BTS on red carpets giving interviews in the US you’ll notice that very often Seokjin is next to Namjoon. I swear Namjoon once spoke about how he likes having Seokjin by his side in such situations because it calms him down but of course I can’t find a source for it right now (I’ll add it as soon as I find it again), though it fits with my general theory that some of the members have like their I’m nervous yet being next to you helps me stay calm member(s) that they gravitate toward/around at such occasions.

In general, just like with vmin and any other duo in BTS, I’m the biggest advocate of staying as far away as possible from any kind of compilation and/or analysis videos on YouTube and any other sns. They are incredibly flawed, usually follow some kind of agenda, are misleading, omit context and just don’t do anything but create wrong ideas, or like in your case, give you the impression that one does more than the other, or one cares more than the other. I recommend sticking to original BH content and building your opinion off of that, instead of letting other’s agendas potentially influence you.

Looking at the past seven and a half years there are plenty of instances in which Seokjin shows how much he cares about Namjoon, be it through actions or words, like the most recent example that comes to mind would be Seokjin thanking Namjoon for his addition to Abyss in his accompanying blog post when he gifted us his song. Or Seokjin’s BE comeback interview where he spoke about writing the opening to Stay and coming up with the theme, discussing it with Namjoon, how he helped him a lot. While we know Seokjin occasionally sits in Yoongi’s studio working on melodies and instrumentals, per Yoongi’s own words, it seems like Seokjin still goes to Namjoon for advice when it comes to lyrics knowing he’ll understand him and will be able to help him just right. Of course, he isn’t the only one, but that’s besides the point.

As with any bond within BTS, and in general, you can’t really reduce years’ worth of memories and bonding into singular, relatively short video, so really, both have worked just as hard for their bond to be what it is. Just think of young pre-debut Namjoon and Seokjin spending their time together at a café almost daily as they got to know each other and worked out how to make BTS and their group dynamic work despite Seokjin being the eldest and Namjoon the leader, therefore the members having to listen to the latter though usually age hierarchy would dictate them to listen more to the former.

Over the years they’ve worked out their own dynamic and built a strong bond based on mutual respect, support and understanding, helping each other grow and inspiring each other along the way, Namjoon even starting to laugh the same way Seokjin does. Add to that what ARMY lovingly refers to as the pink and blue agenda showing in, for example, their in-ears and mics (before both changed their colors though they both still have a blue and pink element respectively on their mics so they didn’t completely let go of that), their matching “couple” watches and rings. Namjoon, along with Hobi, even came to Seokjin’s brother’s wedding, and we know Namjoon and Seokjin used to frequently visit a luxury florist together, spoke about their families having dinner together (BV3), the way Seokjin immediately looked toward Namjoon as though to see if he did well after finishing his speech against sajaegi during MAMA 2019 (something that took a lot of courage and was a potentially very risky thing to do) and how Namjoon nodded proudly and clapped for him, and many other examples. Just watch their RJRJ vlive from last summer. Their laughter and ease when together was just amazing to watch and made the vlive so incredibly fun, though if at some point even K-ARMY had no idea what they were laughing about.

Their personalities are so different and yet they just work together perfectly, gravitate toward each other and find comfort in each other.

There’s this video of Seokjin thanking Namjoon for his hard work as leader at their 1st Muster that always gets to me when you consider how hard that first year was, and how hard the following years were, before things got easier, though really, I’m not sure if any moment of their career was necessarily easy, it just changed and evolved over time. Like all the members, it’s easy to see how proud Seokjin is of Namjoon, of everything he’s done for them and continues to do despite how crushing the weight of responsibilities must’ve been at times.

So really, there’s no need to worry/wonder if their bond is unbalanced because it seems like it very much isn’t.

#namjin #namjoon #seokjin #answered ask #answered ask by admin 1 #honestly I love these two so much together and individually

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abyssmail · 4 years ago

Text

Caerul Design Notes,

because I’ve actually put a lot of thought into creating Caerul’s aesthetic and I’m lowkey really proud of it. I won’t get into her actual character concept/personality/backstory/etc. since this got super long, but this is how/why I made the choices I did with regards to her name and visual design!

▶ Caerul’s color scheme started off way bluer (hence the name “Caerul,” from caeruleus/a/um - “blue”/“cerulean”/“azure”/“of the sky/sea” in Latin) and less saturated, but when I gave her a (dead) twin with a red theme, I wanted them to look more alike and made both of their hair purple (although I haven’t actually done more than sketch Roseus before... he’s got purple hair and red eyes). Purple’s my favorite color, and unnatural hair colors don’t seem to be uncommon in Orth, so why not, right? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ The red elements in Caerul’s design are meant to represent her honoring Roseus!

All of the base colors I use when drawing Caerul! They all end up looking a bit darker once they’re shaded though.

▶ As well as shamelessly using one of my favorite Latin words (I’m a Classics major, okay ;;>~>), I also tried to pick a name that sounded similar to the ones that already exist in-universe. This was actually fairly tricky, since as far as I can tell the names in Made in Abyss have a WIDE variety of influences. Some of them seem passably Japanese-sounding (Riko, Jiruo, Kiyui, Nanachi) disclaimer I bring dishonor to my ancestors and know 0 Japanese so this is just about vibez, others seem Western-ish (Reg, Nat, Lyza, Prushka). Some are fairly whimsical (Shiggy, Maruruk, Mitty) while others are more mysterious and fantastic (Any of the White Whistles besides maybe Lyza). The only common thread I could really settle on was a general fantasy feeling to all of the names. I tried to capture that nebulous vibe with Caerul’s name, although with something so vague and subjective it’s pretty much impossible to say if I was entirely successful. I named her siblings afterward with other Latin color words and ended up with a RGB theme lol.

▸ By the way, “Caerul” is pronounced “KAI-rool.” It rhymes with “Hyrule.” The ae diphthong makes an “eye” sound in Latin #TheMoreYouKnow

▸ “Caducalae” is a portmanteau of “caducae alae,” literally “falling/doomed/futile wings” in Latin (again), playing off how pointless it is to be able to fly when the Curse of the Abyss is a thing. Originally, they weren’t supposed to work at all outside of the Abyss, but I decided that was boring for crossovers/other verses so I scrapped it. I’m not too happy with the name since it doesn’t fit the naming scheme of the canon relics (there is no precedent at all for gratuitous Latin in Made in Abyss, which is a good thing because it’s overused in fantasy, but Latin was the only thing I was good at in high school sooooo... ^^;), but I didn’t like any of my other ideas that much, either. “Wings of Futility” feels more canon, but it’s also kinda depressing :/

▶ I’ve mentioned before that Caerul’s build is based off of mine for art reference purposes (it’s convenient to just look in the mirror while making the pose I want =w=)b), but another reason she’s so short is that I didn’t have to make the caducalae quite as big since she’s smaller, so she can actually go indoors if she’s careful.

▶ Long hair isn’t super practical with mechanical wings with lots of bits for it to get caught in, but Caerul idolizes Lyza, so I left her hair as long as I could reasonably get away with.

▶ I heavily referenced the canon Made in Abyss character designs for Caerul’s clothing so she would fit into the world, but made some alterations to make everything more personal to her and accommodate for her wings. In general, I lightened everything up, since she takes a bunch of short, quick trips rather than lengthy expeditions. Her gloves, for instance, are loosely inspired by the ones we see many delvers wearing in the manga/anime, but are less heavy-duty and are convertible mittens/fingerless gloves for better dexterity with handling letters and such.

The best close up of the gloves I could find was actually a screenshot of the aftermath Reg & Riko’s orb piercer encounter, but I didn’t want to have to tag this for gore, so you get Lyza ^^; There’s a filter over Caerul here so you can see the glove better which is why she looks kinda washed out :/

▶ Her coat is heavily influenced by Jiruo’s, since he’s the only Moon Whistle we’ve seen in canon.

yeah, uhhhh, sorry to yoink your style my dude ^^;

▸ Caerul’s has a different color palette, a simpler lapel border, an extra set of outer pockets, and three separate panels in the back that button around her wings so she can put it on! I haven’t drawn it, but her shirt works similarly.

This is my favorite detail about her design tbh... it’s just really satisfying what a logical solution it is for some reason??? the original doodle is off rotting somewhere in my Modern European History notes, but I tried to recreate it just as sloppily here =w=)b

▶ Caerul’s corset isn’t just a painful fashion choice - it’s actually meant to be a(n admittedly heavily stylized) brace for her back against the weight of her wings.

▶ Since Caerul can’t wear a backpack with the wings, I had to get creative with storage options for her. In addition to an undetermined number of pockets on the inside of her coat, I gave her these two pouches on her thighs to carry more stuff.

I wonder how buff your quads could get carrying a significant amount of weight there...

▸ Messenger bags don’t seem super practical for delving, so I didn’t design a specific one for her to carry all the time, but Caerul does use them on occasion. Even with that, though, she still has far less carrying capacity than the average delver, which is a problem she has to deal with when carrying out her duties!

▶ The wings/caducalae were by far the most difficult part of designing Caerul, and it took several redesigns over 2+ years before I was finally happy with them. Their first design was deliberately far simpler in the interest of having to draw them a zillion times, but they ended up clunky and unwieldy looking:

chonky o~O

▸ The final design is MUCH more of a pain to draw (in fact, a lot of the time I cheat and just copy and paste them from drawings I’ve already done), but I think it looks much sleeker and more “functional”.

I also got better at making my diagrams look slightly more authentic ;0

▸ I knew I wanted jetpack-style thrusters to be a component of the wings to somewhat justify the shit I wanted Caerul to be able to pull with them (especially to eliminate the need for accounting for the damage landing suddenly could do to her ankles), but incorporating them proved to be one of the biggest problems of the design. At one point, they were going to have a whole separate attachment point on her back, but I finally just made them an offshoot of the first “joint,” as you can see in the final design.

A really messy intermediate caducalae sketch. The weird double pentagon shape was meant to be the part of the relic actually fused to Caerul’s back, but I scrapped that too when I scrapped the separate limbs for the thrusters.

▸ Speaking of the joints, they’re all balls so they can rotate all over and I don’t have to fuss too much about how they move. Likewise, the frame is metal, but I treat it like it’s kind of flexible, so Caerul can “flex” the wings open and closed. These wings are hard enough to draw period okay I’m giving myself every excuse to be inconsistent af on purpose.

▸ The caducalae have some “bonus” features that I’ve sketched out, but that Caerul hasn’t unlocked yet, and won’t for a while.

owo what’s this?

▸ For the wings, I think my biggest inspirations were some of the mechier Cardfight!! Vanguard dragon units (although I don’t remember which cards specifically) and the energy wings on the ninth-generation knightmares in Code Geass R2.

I’ve made a lot of OCs, and since I don’t like to use faceclaims, I’ve done a fair amount of character designing. I don’t think I’ve ever spent as much time or had as much fun with any of them as I have with Caerul, though! OCs aren’t always super well accepted in fandom roleplay, but the Made in Abyss community has been super welcoming and I’ve had a blast. Thanks for listening to me gush about Caerul if you got this far, and thank you to everyone who’s interacted with her!

The original sketch of Caerul from back in 2017. How far we’ve come :’D

#miscellaneous info #mun art #appearance #ooc #((no one cares lol))#((but I had fun putting all my thoughts down in writing ^^;))#((also! the full version of the new caerul art from the promo!))

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sincerelyreidburke · 4 years ago

Note

Ok I have no idea where this is coming from but I want to hear about Nando and Quinn's first New Year's Eve together

First, Isabelle, please let me apologize for my delay on this ask fill. Rest assured I had never forgotten or abandoned this idea! It’s very soft, and here’s a ficlet to quell your curiosity.

I’m not taking “first New Year’s” super literally here, because this is set during junior year winter break. The reason I’m doing that is because while they’re dating for two winter breaks prior to this one, this is the first time they get to spend New Year’s physically together. I’ll enlighten you about the two New Year’s that occur prior to this one...

Freshman year: Nando goes to his hometown friend’s party, and Quinn watches a movie by himself. They FaceTime at midnight. Nando is kind of drunk, but being safe, and Quinn finds it endearing. They’re schmoopy, and Nando gets chirped by his friends when he comes back from whatever random room he stepped aside in to make the call.

Sophomore year: Nando goes to that party again, and Quinn is once again by himself, but this time, Quinn accidentally falls asleep at, like, 10:30. Nando wakes him up with another midnight call, and makes fun of him for being a weakling who can’t stay up late. Quinn is slightly grouchy because he’s half-asleep, but misses Nando very much, and therefore lets his grouch fade into soft.

Junior year: this. Long live the return of Gabi and Rosa Hernandez!

(Ask me anything about the crickets!)

junior year | december/january

“Gabi! Rosa! Wake up; it’s almost midnight!”

Nando watches, with so much glee that he’s holding back a laugh, as both of his sisters rouse in unison. They sit bolt upright on the basement couch, in two different shades of alarm. Gabi rubs her eyes and makes some kind of half-asleep grunting noise, and Rosa is immediately wide awake. “What?” she cries, flailing her arms in panic. “Did we miss it?”

“No!” Nando replies, and next to him, wrapped up in his arm, Quinn is shaking his head for emphasis.

“You woke up just in time,” Quinn adds, then points to the clock on the basement wall.

Gabi and Rosa both look that way, and Nando holds up his watch, gesturing to its face. “See?” he says. “It’s 11:57.”

Rosa marvels at his watch. “I didn’t know we slept that long…”

“Yeah!” Gabi frowns, with a little hmph , and folds her arms. She’s wearing the nightgown she got for Christmas; it’s lavender, with sugar-plum fairies all over it. “Why didn’t you guys wake us up?”

“Well, we did wake you up,” Quinn points out, evenly. “There are three minutes left to go.”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep ,” she whines. “I said I was gonna stay up this year!”

“It’s a good thing you have us,” Nando quips, and she sticks her tongue out at him.

Quinn, who is infinitely more patient with Gabi and Rosa than Nando feels like being with his little sisters right now, pats Gabi on the shoulder and remarks, “It’s okay, Gabi. Staying up on New Year’s isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, anyway.”

“But you’re doing it,” Gabi points out.

Quinn tips his head into Nando’s arm, and Nando grins down at him, squeezing him around the shoulders. “I am,” Quinn says, “because I’m with you guys.” He pauses. “I fell asleep before midnight last New Year’s, by accident.”

“It’s true,” Nando says, chuckling, because that really is true— he remembers Quinn’s sleepy face picking up his FaceTime call at midnight last year, rubbing his eyes with a raspy voice over the phone. It was the cutest shit he’s ever seen, not to be dramatic.

Now, a year later, he nudges his boyfriend— who is sitting on his mama’s basement couch, live and in person, his for the entirety of the holidays. The end of Quinn’s fall semester may have been beyond shitty from a home life standpoint, but it led to this: Quinn, home with him, in Arizona, for all of winter break. And summer, once it comes. And the winter break after that, and, well—

Nando loves having him here, more than he can even say.

“Quinn’s a weakling,” he chirps, with eyes on the boy himself. “He’s no good at staying up late.”

Quinn squirms, with a little laugh, and swats upward towards Nando’s general chest region. “ Sebastián ,” he says, easily. Nando kisses his temple.

“Staying up late is cool !” Gabi cries. “Sometimes I use Mama’s phone to text Sebastián when it’s midnight at college, and he’s still awake .”

“Mm.” Quinn nods, with his cheek pressed into Nando’s shoulder. “Your brother has a habit of letting Ben have an influence on his bedtime.”

“I mean.” Nando wonders if defending himself is even worth it. Quinn is sort of right. “He lives right on the other side of the bathroom. He, like… invades my room.”

Rosa is studying the wall clock intently. “I’ll tell you guys when,” she announces, like counting down to midnight is a mission she is taking very seriously. “We have a minute and thirty-seven seconds left. Now it’s thirty-six. Thirty-five—”

“Aw, don’t count the whole time,” Gabi says, shoving her in the shoulder. “You’ll kill all the fun.”

“It’s okay, Rosa.” Once again, Quinn seeks to pacify the sisterly disagreements. He’s a natural, Nando notices. It sends him into thoughts of Quinn as a dad, which is so much for his extremely in love, extremely gay brain. “It’ll be midnight soon.”

Nando buries his face in Quinn’s hair to mask his smile, and plants a kiss at the top of his head. With three weeks in the Arizona sun under his belt— because even in the winter, the sun here is aplenty, something Nando will never stop loving about his home state— the usual strawberry tones of Quinn’s blond have lightened significantly. Not only that, but he has more freckles today than the number he showed up with when they stepped off the plane after finals. It’s a good look on him, and Nando hasn’t been able to stop himself from imagining what that means for Quinn if he lives here after graduation.

They’ve talked about that a little, which is plenty for Nando’s brain to run wild with.

“Wait!” Gabi draws something out from between couch pillows. The four of them are all stationed on the basement couch; Nando is resting against the end with his arm around Quinn, and the girls are right where they fell asleep for their accidental nap. It’s a smallish couch, but a comfy one, with a green plush cover that’s easy to sink into.

Gabi brandishes her finding— a silver noisemaker, the cardboard kind you blow into to unfurl it and make a sound. “I forgot about these,” she says.

“Oh, goodness,” Quinn chuckles. “Are you going to blow into that at midnight?”

“Uh, duh ,” Gabi replies. She tests it out once, sort of in his face, and Nando feels Quinn wince under him.

“ Gabi .” He huddles Quinn closer. “Remember, his ears aren’t like yours.”

“Oops.” Gabi’s cheeks flush just a little. “Sorry.”

Quinn smiles at her. “It’s okay. Don’t worry. I know you’re excited.”

“Thirty seconds!” Rosa cries, eyes still glued to the clock. “When should we start counting?”

“At ten?” Quinn volunteers, and she seems to like this, because she nods.

“At ten,” she echoes. “It’s twenty-five now.”

Gabi bounces on her cushion, which sort of moves the whole couch just a little. “I’m so excited!”

Nando rests his hand on Quinn’s knee, who promptly tips his face up to smile at him. Nando bites back another laugh, and kisses his nose instead. Quinn’s smile is normal, but there’s humor dancing in his blue-green eyes, a little sparkle.

“Twenty!” Rosa, who’s usually pretty quiet, is even seeming excited now. She chews on the edge of her nightgown’s sleeve; it’s the same style as Gabi’s, but with gingerbreads and candies instead of fairies. Her hair is still in the fishtail braid Quinn gave her, while they were watching TV an hour ago. “Fifteen… aaaaand— okay, ten!”

“Nine!” Gabi joins her, bouncing once in her seat for each number. “Eight… seven…”

Nando participates in the countdown, as does Quinn, quietly, next to him. “Six… five… four… three… two… one—”

“ Happy New Year !” Gabi and Rosa yell, in unison, and Gabi blows into her noisemaker again, but this time angles it away from Quinn. Nando laughs, finally, and Quinn claps a little, for the girls’ excitement. Gabi jumps off the couch to dance around in front of it, and that’s about when Nando realizes that Quinn is looking up at him expectantly.

“Oh!” In a hurry, he pecks him on the mouth. Quinn is smiling when they pull away.

Gabi finishes her dance with a little bow, which Quinn claps, again, for, and Rosa sits calmly on the couch with both hands in her lap, still staring at the clock as the second hand moves 15 seconds psat 12. “I…” Rosa pauses. “Don’t feel any different.”

“I never do,” Quinn confesses. “New Year’s is an odd holiday, don’t you think?”

“I do think,” Rosa replies, with a nod, and then Gabi lets off a very loud yawn, collapsing back into the abyss of the couch cushions.

“Hm…” Quinn says, looking between them. “Are you guys tired? You stayed up really late.”

Rosa, because yawning is contagious, is also yawning. Nando feels like he might be about to yawn, even though he’s barely tired. “I think so,” she announces, and so, without much ceremony, they’re able to get them to go upstairs relatively easily.

They patter up the basement steps to the ground floor, and they’ll go from there to the second floor, where they’ll nestle all snug in their beds like it’s the night before Christmas and not the night before 2020. “Night, guys,” Nando calls after them, as they’re going. “Happy new year.”

“G’night!” Gabi calls, and Rosa waves over her shoulder. “Don’t stay up late!” Gabi adds, in a singsong voice, and they disappear through the door to the ground floor in a flurry of giggles.

Nando looks to the ceiling, and listens to their feet on the kitchen floor above them, still holding Quinn around the shoulders. He hears them cross to the other staircase, and then, slowly, their steps fade away entirely.

Nando waits at least three seconds after he’s lost track of the noise, then looks down to Quinn, with the shit-eating grin he’s been holding back for the past five minutes finally giving way. “Nice work, baby,” he remarks, holding his hand up.

Quinn laughs. He high-fives him, then leans into his chest. “I feel bad,” he sighs. “They were so excited.”

“ Pff .” He stands from the couch, lifting Quinn right up with him, and says, “Are you kidding me? They’ll never know.”

“I suppose.” Quinn hooks his arms around his neck. “Are we resetting the clock?”

“Sure, yeah.” He looks to the clock above the TV. “Let’s do that.”

The same way they did ten minutes ago, he helps Quinn onto his shoulders until he can reach to change the time on the clock. Nando holds him steady as he turns it back two hours, landing it correctly at 10:04 rather than the 12:04 Rosa and Gabi think it is right now. When Quinn is done, he hangs the clock back up, flashes a thumbs-up, and announces, “All set!”

“Perfect.” Nando grins, then reaches for his waist, bends over, and says, “Hold on tight.”

Quinn puts his hands down on his shoulders. “Holding.”

In a maneuver they’ve gotten down to a science, he moves Quinn from his shoulders to his back, where he gets a kiss to the cheek from him on his way by. From there, Quinn hops down, and Nando turns, lifting him so he’s facing him. Quinn winds his legs around his waist, and kisses him properly.

“We’re evil,” Quinn mumbles, nose-to-nose with him, when they pull away. “We lie to children.”

“Baby.” He closes his eyes. “They were never gonna make it to midnight anyway.”

“That’s likely true.” Quinn kisses him again, then eyes the couch, so Nando takes it as a cue to lead him back there. Once they’re settled, Quinn tucks himself right up into his lap, resting his cheek against his shoulder, and all is right in the world.

“What now?” Nando asks, like his mind isn’t already wandering. “You… wanna watch TV?”

“Sure,” Quinn murmurs, “we can turn it on.” He doesn’t sound opposed to it, but he also sounds relatively indifferent, like it doesn’t really matter if the TV is on or not.

So Nando meets his eyes. “We could…” He raises his eyebrows, with the tiniest smile. “ Not watch TV?”

Quinn swats him for the second time in ten minutes. “ Sebastián . Your mother said—”

“I know, I know.” He chuckles, kissing Quinn’s forehead. Leave it to his boyfriend to keep Mama’s spirit hovering over them even while she’s safely five miles away at work. She pretty much threatened his life before she left for tonight’s night shift re: funny business in her basement, and he shouldn’t try to go behind her back (despite the multiple times he’s done that during winter break already, at strategic times when they have the house all to themselves). Tonight, Nando won’t tempt fate. He leans toward the empty part of the couch and tells Quinn, “Hold on. I’ll get the remote.”

It’s buried in couch pillows, but he draws it up after a second of rooting around. He looks past Quinn to hit the power button, and flicks through the channels until he lands on the ball drop countdown. Two news anchors are doing shots, live on the air in Times Square. “This?”

Quinn isn’t even facing the TV, but he nods. “Anything’s good.”

So Nando drops the remote down into the cushiony abyss again, securing his hands on Quinn’s tiny waist. He’s in one of his many stolen Kiersey Hockey sweatshirts (this is a really nice one, actually, with his name and number on the sleeve), and a worn pair of blue shorts, which Nando can tell are his own because of how short they are. His socks reach nearly to his knees, and under the sweatshirt, he’s wearing a tight t-shirt that rides up his waist. So in other words, he wants Nando dead. And him being in his lap isn’t helping.

Nando edges his hands under the hoodie until he’s touching warm skin on his middle. He looks down into his eyes and murmurs, “God, you’re fucking cute.”

Quinn giggles like being cute has been his plan this whole time. “You’re not so bad yourself, papi.”

That gets Nando in just the right place, apparently, because the only thing he can think to want to do until midnight is just absolutely kiss the hell out of him. He gives him a kiss that starts soft and turns tender, and Quinn scoots up as far into his lap as he can go. Nando smiles as Quinn presses his thumb into his cheek, and when they pause to breathe, Quinn murmurs, “This is better than TV.”

He laughs, kisses him again, and nods. “Glad you agree, cariño .”

More or less, that’s how they pass the next two hours— making out on and off, occasionally sneaking a glance to the TV to comment on the absurdity of how news anchors entertain themselves waiting for midnight to come, trading bits and pieces of miscellaneous conversation. Between bouts of kissing, Quinn rests against his chest, his legs thrown snug around his waist, and Nando rubs his back under the shirt he’s wearing. His skin is a little sunburnt, thanks to his first taste of Arizona weather (and if he’s already burning in December, Nando can’t imagine what it’ll be like when they come home this summer) (which, by the way, is a wonderful thing to remember is happening).

That’s how they are when the countdown arrives— in fact, Nando doesn’t even realize it’s so close to midnight until he sees the TV out of the corner of his eye, and the ball is falling, with forty seconds left until the New Year.

“Oh— baby.” To get his attention, he rubs Quinn’s thigh right under the spot where his shorts end; he’s been holding him there for the last little while.

Quinn lifts his face from his chest; he’s been resting there so long that there’s a warm spot where his head was. On his way up, he turns his hearing aids on, since he shut them off sometime over the course of the past two hours. Nando supplies, “It’s almost midnight.”

Quinn rubs his left eye and asks, in this little, raspy voice, “Already?”

God , he’s so fucking cute. Nando is too gay to function. “Already,” he says, with an affirming now, and then chuckles a little and adds, “For real this time.”

Quinn laughs, pressing his face into his shoulder, and Nando takes the opportunity to squeeze him tight, with a kiss to the top of his head. His hair is so messy by now, a look he’d never show to the public. Nando loves his rumpled boyfriend more than there are words to express.

“Well,” Quinn mumbles, turning his head to the TV. “Perhaps I should actually watch it.”

Nando holds him close, and he watches, too. He hasn’t seen the ball drop in awhile, because for the past handful of years, he’s usually been at Antonio’s New Year’s party down the street. He and Quinn were invited to it tonight, but Mama had already taken the shift at work, so they gently declined in favor of babysitting the girls.

Nando loves hanging out with his friends, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t prefer this— a snuggly New Year’s Eve in his basement with the love of his life— to a house party.

When the ball hits ten seconds to midnight, the crowd in Times Square ramps up the noise. It’s all flashy and loud, and Nando used to think that going there one year would be fun, as a bucket list kind of thing— but it would be so much for Quinn, he would never do it now. He debates counting along with them, but he just watches and listens instead. Quinn is quiet in his arms, head rested against his shoulder.

Five… four… three… two… one— happy new year!!!!

On the TV, a symphony of confetti and cheering erupts. But Nando does not care, at all, what’s happening in Times Square at that moment, because as they ring in the first seconds of 2020, he’s looking down at Quinn. He keeps his eyes on the TV for just a second after the stroke of midnight, before he looks back up to Nando, with a gentle, knowing smile.

Nando tugs him close in his lap to kiss him, and that’s how they ring in 2020— wrapped up in each other with their first official New Year’s kiss. “Happy new year, baby,” he hums, when they pull away.

“Happy new year,” Quinn echoes. He’s cupping Nando’s face in his hand again, and his eyes are searching. “I love you.”

Nando beams. “I love you so much,” he replies, and kisses him again, for good measure. They’re playing Auld Lang Syne on the TV. The noise is a million miles away.

They’ve been together for over two years now, but thanks to the woes of a long-distance relationship, this feels a lot like their first real New Year’s together than the way they rang in 2018 and 2019. Nando wouldn’t change a thing, but FaceTiming at midnight just isn’t the same as holding him in your arms.

So, yeah. Happy new year, indeed.

They keep the TV on, and some time later, after more kissing and vigorous snuggling, they wind up just resting on the couch together. Quinn is still wrapped around him, half in his lap and half to his side, and Nando is rubbing very gently at the back of his neck. He thinks Quinn is maybe asleep, or definitely at least not tuned in on his hearing aids, so it comes as a surprise when he hears him mumble. “Sebastián… I was thinking.”

“Huh?” He looks down at him, threading his fingers into his hair. “What about, baby?”

Quinn is quiet while he takes a deep breath, then he snuggles impossibly closer into his chest. “Well, I was just… I wanted to tell you that I love it here.”

Something flutters in Nando’s stomach, but he holds back on saying anything, because Quinn sounded like he wasn’t done with his thought. It turns out he’s right, after a second. “I could completely see myself living here, you know. I mean— of course, I could see myself living here before, because it would be with you, but— well, I suppose being here? It’s made it more real. If you know what I mean?”

“I do know,” he replies, trying not to sound completely like an excited puppy, but probably failing. He can’t help it. They’ve talked about the future, and made clear with each other what they want; they’ve made a plan that fits them accordingly. But Quinn is right. Being home, with him, makes so many future plans so much more real in his head. For two years, he’s daydreamed about taking Quinn home. Now that he’s done that… it’s a lot easier to picture moving here with him, after graduation. And buying their own house. And marrying him. And having a family. And so on.

So, yeah. He gets it. “It makes me really happy to hear you say that,” he tells Quinn.

“Well, it’s the truth,” Quinn remarks, in that little know-it-all voice that Nando is so fucking head over heels for. He pauses a moment, pressing his palm flat against his belly, before he adds, “I can’t wait to live here with you.”

“ God , baby,” he says, and he can’t stop smiling. “I can’t wait for that, either.” He squeezes lightly at the back of his neck. “C’mere.”

Quinn lifts his head for a lazy kiss, and then snuggles right back in. He holds him so close, and that’s how they stay. Going to bed doesn’t even cross either of their radars for a very long time.

Nando wants to ring in every single year, for the rest of his life, just like this.

#crickets #ficlet #quindo #mini quinny #nandoooooooo #mel writes

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robbyrobinson · 4 years ago

Text

OWL HOUSE X CTHULHU MYTHOS: GODS AWAKEN (Pt. X)

The gang looked at the odd man with the most utmost of confusion and bewilderment. This oddly beautiful man with a youthful appearance just waltzed his way into the Owl House without a care in the world, somehow hiding himself from Hooty’s detection and now he was offering his assistance.

“How did you get here?” Luz asked him.

“What you see before you is my soul,” Hypnos explained, “but I am not dead.”

“So, if you are not dead, how did you leave your body?”

Hypnos walked past Luz seemingly disinterested in her question. Hypnos directed his attention towards the couch and sat down on the far end of it. Lilith, having not moved a muscle for a duration of the time of his visit, inched herself as far away from the mystery man as she could. Hypnos smiled at Lilith’s frantic movements.

“Don’t worry, mortal, I have no intentions of harming you.”

Lilith sighed deeply and held her hand against her chest. Her heart beat at a rapid pace as a result of his uninvited presence, but she was nevertheless relieved.

“You say that you know a lot about this Nyarlathotep guy,” Eda reiterated, crossing her arms. “How do we know you are not working for him?”

Eda clammed up when Hypnos stared at her with his dark, luminous eyes. “I do understand your hesitation with trusting me, really I do.” He stood erect from his side of the couch. “I had bigger aspirations once a long, long time ago, but when I passed a gate...it all fell apart.”

Luz did not understand what he meant by “gate,” but it was the least bit of concern in her mind. “What do you know about Nyarlathotep?”

Hypnos frowned without warning. He placed a finger on the opposite sides of his head. He shut his huge, black eyes tightly. A gust of wind entered into the Owl House and whirled around the young man. His crown of poppies glowed in a red aura and ruffled in the breeze. The petals swirled through the air before clumping together to form a visual representation. The flower display took on the likeness of the planets and stars. At the center of the solar system was a large, spiraling ball that vibrated.

“A long time ago before the universe as you know it came into being, there was Ultimate Chaos. The Mad God, the Daemon Sultan, Azathoth.”

Luz looked closely at the visual figures with fascination. Hypnos slid back slightly. Luz’s cheeks blushed a deep shade of red.

“Sorry, I just like hearing about backstories.”

Hypnos nodded and continued his story. “From Azathoth, there came more ancient gods each making up aspects that maintain reality as we know it. The All-In-One Yog-Sothoth; The Black Goat of the Woods, Shub-Niggurath; the Crawling Chaos...”

“Nyarlathotep?” Luz interjected.

Hypnos nodded. “Yes, mortal.”

The petals shifted and wedged together to form a crawling mass of tentacles and eyes. On the ends of the tentacles were sharp rows of teeth gnashing at whatever was close enough to them. Before the watchful eyes of the group of misfits, the tentacles wrapped around different planets and crushed them with its tight grasp over them. Other tentacled and multi-eyed abominations slid out of the small openings of space-time and devoured worlds alongside the first creature.

“That is who Nyarlathotep is,” Hypnos emphasized, “throughout the multiverse, Nyarlathotep and his horde have laid siege and soundly destroyed them to their last molecule where only dark matter lied in their wake.”

Next, the portals once more transformed this time manifesting as a series of humanoid shapes fighting against the forces of Nyarlathotep and his acquaintances. There was a great war between the opposing sides, but with more greater casualties against Nyarlathotep’s forces. Many were cornered and forced away to the furthest parts of the known universe never to be seen again.

Only Nyarlathotep remained and fought against the chief of these humanoid beings, a large man with a gray, spindling beard. He rode in a seashell chariot that was pulled by bizarre flying entities. They had a smooth, silky complexion and slender bodies. Yet they were bereft of eyes or noses or any orifice that would have given them the semblance of a face. Not once did they ever make an utterance of a sound further alienating them from any other creature known to the universe. Their horns curved inward and their tails were like a barbed whip swatting away at invisible flies.

“Who is the old geezer?” King asked.

“That old geezer,” Hypnos said in air quotes, “is Nodens.”

“He looks pretty good for being an old man,” Eda noted.

“Eda, this isn’t the time to ask if he’s single,” Lilith stated.

Ignoring the discussion, Hypnos continued his narration. “The Lord of the Great Abyss, Nodens hunts evil creatures in the Dreamlands, something that has put him in eternal enmity with Nyarlathotep; this happened to be their first introduction to each other.”

“This is all fine and all,” Luz said somewhat in rush, “but this isn’t helping us at all with how Nyarlathotep came to the Boiling Isles.”

“To avoid Nodens and his accomplices, Nyarlathotep tore a hole in space-time and came to a world that was still in its archaic state and in need of development and leadership.”

To illustrate this, Hypnos fashioned a hole with a few of the poppies and had the tentacled mass trickle through it. Where the Crawling Chaos found itself was a total void where virtually no evidence of scientific advancements or evolution was evident. Nyarlathotep was badly beaten from his encounter with the Lord of the Great Abyss and licked the wounds of his defeat. And yet despite this, he changed his course of action and took up shop in what would become the Boiling Isles. With his cosmological foreknowledge, the Crawling Chaos waited ever so patiently to communicate with the inhabitants of the Isles in a way that they would comprehend.

“When the earliest witches of the Isles arrived,” Hypnos said, “Nyarlathotep had already seeded a small fragment of his influence over the land; this is why you have the many bizarre anomalies that pillage through the Isles.”

“So, because of this Nyarlathotep guy, he is the one to thank for our source of magic?” Eda asked.

“Yes. Nyarlathotep drew from within himself the wild magic that the witches of the Isles would grow to depend on. They thought of it as charitable and revered him as their god.”

The illustration of Nyarlathotep was depicted as pulling into his body and pulling out a small ball of light and handing it to a few of the inhabitants as a display of granting them his magic. This was long before the dreadful savage ages; before Emperor Belos; before the establishment of the coven system to limit the magic, the witches could perform. The figures gathered around Nyarlathotep offering up demonstrations of praise.

Hypnos sighed deeply. “But as you may have imagined, Nyarlathotep wasn’t going to simply grant them magic without having something in return for his services.”

Witches were aligned in long rows that led to flames. Hypnos did not have to further say anything as the looks of horror were fixed on the group’s faces. There was a sense of disgust bubbling from the deepest pits of the gang. The very idea that the magic they inherited from their ancestors came as the result of systematic sacrifice in macabre rituals uneased them. Only the Titan could possibly know what amount of pressure and pain they went through before their lives were ended far, far before their time.

“All of this senseless sacrificing came to a head when one resident – an unknown figure – appeared before Nyarlathotep at his temple and stripped him of most of the powers he granted the children of the Isles and he was imprisoned away for thousands of years. But he kept one small piece of himself to watch over the Boiling Isles at least until the time was right.”

Luz found herself deep in her thoughts curious about who was the likeliest candidate that Nyarlathotep left to upkeep the Boiling Isles. Due to Nyaralthotep being the de-facto ruler of the Isles thousands of years ago, it obviously would have to have been someone who had some sort of authority and at the least was charismatic enough to have the witches waver to him. Someone like...

Luz’s eyes widened in shock. Of course, it made total sense; how could she have missed it before? Her fists shook in aggression.

“Emperor Belos.”

“You know him?” Hypnos asked. He said the question in a monotonous tone, still feeling as if he was distancing himself from the question for whatever reason.

“You bet I know him,” Luz stated in confidence, “he almost petrified Eda.”

“And I used to work for him,” Lilith added onto the conversation.

King raised his hand. “Wait, are you suggesting that Belos is somehow related to Nyarlathotep?”

“I am not suggesting it,” Hypnos said, “I know that he is.”

King was stunned. “Then how-”

“You remember my explanation of how this body you see before you is actually my soul?” Hypnos inquired.

They nodded.

“Your Belos is really the soul of Nyarlathotep who had escaped the imprisonment his physical body suffered.”

“Wait, how does that work?” Eda asked.

“Every mortal creature, much like the gods themselves, were given a soul long before they were conceived. The soul makes up the core of what makes you you; anytime you feel a sense of wanting more out of your life, that is your soul that gives you these suggestions. Not only is the soul apart of you, but they also have their own feelings and aspirations. Sometimes if the soul were to be separate from the body for a long period of time, they have broken away and go on to have their own lives.”

“Are there good souls?” Luz asked.

Hypnos chuckled. “Good and evil; some trivial labels that mankind gives to define something they don’t understand.” He turned away from Luz. “But I will tell you that many of those wondering souls do not bring harm to those that leave them be. They’d rather prefer to have lives of solitude than needless quarrels.”

“Well, all of this has been entertaining,” Eda insisted, “but how do we stop Nyarlathotep?”

“On the Earth, there is a book that Nyarlathotep desires.”

“What is this book?” Luz asked.

“It was a book that was written by the hero who initially trapped the Crawling Chaos; the book was copied a few times by their followers but seemingly disappeared from the Isles without a trace; a copy of the work was given to a raving madman who tried to perform dark rituals with the knowledge of the gods coursing through his veins. In that book was the incantation needed for Nyarlathotep to regain his powers. Once he returns to his full strength, that would spell the end.”

So that was the reason Belos wanted to use the portal key to get access to the Earth Luz thought. While troublesome, Luz crossed her arms and grinned. “Well, we don’t have to worry about that; I destroyed the portal to the Earth.”

Her smile dropped when she was met with Hypnos’ disapproving expression. “Aye, you did, but Belos is recreating the portal from the pieces that he could salvage.”

Luz realized the error of her ways after allowing what Hypnos said to her to digest. “Then with that, he could take over the world!” She looked down on the ground with her eyes. “And I allowed him to.”

“Cheer up my dear,” Hypnos said in reassuring fashion. “He doesn’t want to take over your world.”

Luz sighed in relief. Whatever plans Belos had for Earth aside, at the least he was being truthful with his statement that the Titan – if it was alive – had no intentions of hegemony.

“He doesn’t?”

“No, he wants to destroy it.”

Luz’s panicking shifted into high gear again. “How is that better!?”

“Calm down, Luz,” Hypnos said, “this is why I am here after all; I will help you in your fight.”

“Tell us please,” Luz begged, “my mother’s down there!”

Hypnos scratched his eyebrow. “A few years back, I traversed the gates with a dear friend of mine, at least until I took a peep into the Ultimate Chaos.”

“Is that what you did to get to the demon realm?” Eda asked.

“Very observant of you, Owl Lady,” Hypnos said with a smile. “To do this...well..”

He fidgeted with his fingers at a loss of what to say or how to express it. Luz and Eda were trying to patiently wait for the Lord of Dreams to get to his point. Belos could have sent his servants to Earth already to scale the cities for the book as far as they were concerned.

“Spit it out,” Eda said, “you’re killing us.”

“Well, how my friend and I traveled we had to take a few...mind-altering substances.”

“You mean D-R-U-G-S?” Lilith interjected once more into the conversation.

Hypnos nodded. “Yes; basically, for this to work, we have to...how do you say...”

“So, we’re doing drugs?” Luz asked at last.

“Pretty much.”

#the owl house #owl house #cthulhu mythos #mythos #cthulhu #nodens #eda clawthorne #fanfiction #owl house fanfiction

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randaccidents · 5 years ago

Text

Suspicion, Suggestion

I immediately started writing this once I posted The Plan and I have no excuse for it. It was meant to be a quick ficlet and my fingers ran away from me.

This is set after The Plan.

Shadow People AU by the glorious @mine-sara-sp

TW: panic attacks, cosmic horror

Abyss finds something blue.

Where did you get that?

Paladin didn’t flinch at the freezing cold voice, or the sudden darkness surrounding them, or the feeling of time coming to a halt around them as the world faded to black. They simply took a steadying breath, turning around to face the speaker. “Where did I get what?”

The Abyss was before them, simmering in anger. The false shadow gestured to Paladin’s back. That. Where. Did. You. Get. That.

Paladin crossed their arms protectively over their chest. It was being really aggressive over such a small thing as a cape. They raised one eyebrow. “I’m not corrupted, if that’s what you’re worried about. This is just a gift from Wels.”

The shadows that inundated the area shook violently at the guttural growl that issued from Abyss’ sudden many mouths. Just a gift? Is that so. Paladin found their feet stuck to the ground, shadows grasping and tearing into their armoured boots. They could feel their breathing speed up as Abyss loomed over them, mouth no longer in a smile. You really believe that? It could be a goddamn ploy to return you to the Vex, to claim a part of you as always theirs. Its eyes were almost unseen in the oozing darkness that Abyss had become. It would be best for me to destroy that fucking thing, before anything comes from it.

Destroy? Defiance and panicked fear rose in equal volume within Paladin. The cape was theirs, given to them by Wels. They were not going to give it up. Swallowing, Paladin spoke past the dryness in their mouth. “No.”

No? All Paladin could see was dark black, the only thing breaking the monotony being the bright mouth of Abyss, set in a severe frown. It is dangerous. It is marking what’s mine. Give. Me. The. Cape.

Paladin couldn't see anything other than the mouth, unmoving before them. They couldn’t tell if it was tunnel vision or if their surroundings really were that dark. Something was tugging at the hem of their cape. They rolled their shoulders, causing the cape to rip out of the grip below and curl around their shoulders. The being before them growled at the sight of the bright blue cape, voice multiplying and twisting and molding and breaking in terrifying ways. Familiar ways. Ȃ̶͔͓̭͎͋̅̐͠r̶̡̂͋͝e̸̛͍͔̍͒͌͆͌̂͝ ̴̼̙͌̚y̵̢̧̧̛̠̒̑̈́̾̃̚o̷̭̙̻̽̚͜͝ų̶̛̠̪͚͓͇̽̉̿̊͜ ̸̣̜̺͈̪̘̀̍̀̔̓̾͐͝d̸͚̦͇̼̈͜e̴̜̪̗̼̐f̶͉̺̠̥̱͙̆͛̂̈́͝ÿ̷̰̠̣͍͍̣́ͅi̸̜̮̘͂̆̃̎n̸͖̰̤̯̈́̊̔͛͆̇g̸͈̗̻̙͐̊̈́ ̷̨͍͚̦͕͈̜̐͘͝ͅm̶̮͇̘̭̣̐͊̽͐̔ę̷̧̡͔̫̫̲̬̀̓̽?̷̧͇̺͎̝͝

Something brushed against their hand. Paladin quickly grabbed it, desperate for any tactile sensation. They felt fabric with threads that shifted and flowed. The cape. Fuzzily, they noted that the fabric was torn. They couldn't breathe, even if logically they didn't need to. The world was buzzed, tilted, unreal. They wanted to collapse onto the floor, if only for the stability it presented, but the same force holding their feet in place also kept them frozen upright, unable to move their legs. They pulled on the cape. The additional weight on their shoulders illuminated the fog of their mind slightly, but it was enough for them to grasp onto something.

“Y-you said,” their voice was shaky, uneven, stuttering, but they pushed through. “That I was free to, free to say no to you. A-are you going back on your, on your word?”

The air shook with the force of the hiss that came from Abyss, rocking Paladin to the core of their being with its disappointment. I am only trying to protect you. If you don’t want it, then I will leave you to the Vex should something happen because of the cape.

Paladin never noticed when the black slunk back to the shadows it came from, or when Abyss reformed itself into Zedaph’s form. All they knew was that nothing was holding them upright anymore, and then there was stability. Both hands grasping the cape tight, Paladin curled up into a ball, lungs heaving. Tears rolled down their cheeks unbidden as they focused on a rhythm, any rhythm, to help them calm down.

Parry, parry, thrust, Parry, parry, thrust, Par-

There was a hand on their shoulder, cold, clawed, familiar but not, leaking an aura something in them knew. There was a tug in their heart, attempting to change them, pulling at their cape.

Paladin screamed. No, no, it was going to take their cape, it was theirs, Wels gave it to them, it was theirs, please don’t hurt me, I can’t take it anymore, go away go away go away-

It was a long, unknown while before they were aware of their surroundings, but the first thing they noticed was the feeling of two bodies near them. The two people - for what else could it be? - weren’t making any moves towards them, so they decided to calm themselves down first.

Parry, parry, thrust, Parry, parry, thrust…

They weren’t fully calm, they knew. Their hearing was still buzzed, their head still stuffed with cotton. But there were people who had seen them. Deep breaths, in, out, and they opened their eyes, uncurling slightly from their cape cocoon.

There was a small blue face looking back at them. It blinked, they blinked. Then the face was zooming off across an expanse of grey. Paladin followed it upwards with their eyes, coming face with Avarice’s concerned face, disembodied blue hands floating above concernedly.

Oh. Paladin gave it a wavering chirp-coo, nodding their head slightly. The hands moved down to pick up Paladin, cradling them gently to Avarice as it thrilled back. “Y̶̢͈͆͝ơ̷̥͌ṳ̷͒'̵̭͑ṟ̶͒̈́é̷̡͇̔ ̵̢̖͊s̷͍̈́a̶̲͐̈́f̵̳̺͊ë̷̬̳́̕ ̸͓͊n̷͔̭̏̀o̸͉͐̓w̵̡̐̃͜.̸͈̤͗” came a lilting mixed voice behind Avarice.

Paladin could only hum, leaning into Avarice’s embrace, taking comfort in the familiar sensation of being held like a treasure. Distantly, they could hear slashing wingbeats, the feeling of being airborne, Keloid. They were both here. Paladin was safe. Closing their eyes, they let their mind zone out as they burrowed their face into their cape, recovering from the stress of earlier.

They didn’t realise that Abyss had suspiciously gone missing.

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

So you’re Paladin’s summoner? Pathetic.

Wels struggled in the freezing grip of the Abyss, so similar yet slightly different from the Vex, just enough for his mental walls to come up and give him courage. “Yes, I’m Paladin’s summoner. Name’s Wels. I know vaguely who you are. Now please put me down.”

The grinning face in the darkness around him moved out of his field of view, sliding along the now-black walls. Its voice was familiar-yet-not, multiplying and weaving as the Vex’s had yet not made of windchimes and bells. Instead, Wels heard the voices of every shadow summoned, harsh, soft, light, rasping, loud, gentle, echoing from the ground below. Where had the ground gone? Now now, no need to be so rude. I just want to have a little talk.

“Me, rude? I think you’re being more rude right now.” Wels snarked back. Something thick smacked him across the face, sending it cracking to the side. Whatever it was stuck to his mouth, preventing him from speaking. A hand gripped his chin, snapping his face around to face forward. The voice of the Abyss spoke, rising from the floor beneath, echoing and bending.

First, a quick introduction. I am the end of time, the originator of shadows, the True Darkness below, Abyss. But I’m sure your masters had a wonderful mcfucking time complaining about me, so onto more important business. The face slid back into view, unnaturally white grin now a frown.

there was a singular vex mob floating in his face, mouth twisted into an uncharacteristic frown

There was whack to the back of Wels’ head, snapping him out of his thoughts. The face was nearer now, scowling. I SAID, you and your masters are to stay far the fuck away from my goddamn shadows. FAR. AWAY. Is that understood? I don’t want to see their filthy influence on the shadows that have pledged allegiance explicitly to me, or for any of theirs to be associated with them. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear.

Wels was already shaking his head before Abyss had finished speaking. Idly noting that his mouth was no longer being blocked, Wels spoke out. “But Paladin is my family. My sibling. And they can decide for themselves if they want to see me or not. You don’t get a say on that matter.” Wels would cross his arms if he could, they were shivering and he needed to show no emotion He couldn't give them anything to use against him, but the mysterious shadows were still holding him tight.

The face growled, the sound echoing through Wels’ bones and bouncing endlessly, becoming nothing more than droning white noise, never ceasing. That is exactly who I want you to get far away from. Get rid of your fucking influence before I m̷̧̛̪̙͚͚̭̙̈̈̇̎͗̂͋̾͋͠a̴̡̢͈̲̣̹̼̬̟͖̤͛̉͒̓̌̈́͂̽̌̄k̸͓̜̠̳̪̠̫̣͙̱̮̑͗̓̑ĕ̶̛̜̼͎̱̿̊̔̽͜͝͝ͅ ̶̨͔̼̹͕͌̑͆̐̅͂y̸̟͊̔͆̓̊̋͝o̶̹͐͒ư̷̩̗̫͔̬͆͐̐͗̅̓̊͘͝͝.

Something clicked. “Is this about the cape?”

The face hardened upon the mention of the cape. Yes. Get rid of it dammit.

Wels couldn’t help it. This was a dangerous, terrifyingly familiar, ugly situation where he had no leverage, but he couldn’t keep it in. He laughed at the face, loud and ugly.

Wels was laughing, coughing slightly through a now bruised throat.

“All this over a cape? If you had just said you were worried about corruption earlier this would have been easier!”

Abyss was not impressed. Are you done?

The Vex were not impressed. Are you done?

Another whack on the back of his head. Wels shook his head doggedly. You are a dangerously distracted person. Stop thinking about your masters before you summon them for real. I won't repeat myself. Explain. Now.

Wels grinned, bright and sharp, twisting slightly into something other.

Wels grinned at the vex collective,

a satisfied smirk,

quickly disguised

"I might have made a deal with the Vex, but you are a fool to think I didn't think about my family first. In exchange for becoming an Anchor, they cannot corrupt any of my shadows unless they reach out first, now or ever." Wels shook his head tsking softly at Abyss. "Really, this is just a misunderstanding for you. I will never let anyone take away my shadow's choices, and you had best do the same. Otherwise, I might just come for you, end of the world or not." His grin was vicious, twisted, eyes pure electric blue, bells ringing through the air.

And then all of that was gone, punched out of Wels with the force of the hand in his insides. The hand was incorporeal, freezing, yet all too real, stuck in his insides. He gasped.

Wels found himself struggling to push Â̷̡̡̡̭̤̹̼̭̝̲̻̤͓p̸̢̢̨̺̮̠̣̞͎̫̭̩̦͓͈̘ȩ̵̨̧̢̨̛̫͙̰̟͎̱̥̹̫͈̣̥̬̻̹̳̬̞x̵̨̦̠̖̞͉̘̗̠̝͖̘̖̤̘̻͈̙̘̓̋͜͜ away, to breathe, breath stolen in the face of a predator.

Dimly, there was a voice above him. Goddamn, you weren't lying. I guess you're off the hook. This time, at least.

The darkness around him slunk away, shadows loosening from his body, shrinking back into the form of Zedaph. The false shadow yanked its hand out of Wels, leaving him to crumple to the floor gasping for breath. The figure sauntered off in some direction, a final comment thrown over its shoulder. Remember knight, your words have power. Be careful what you promise, and to who.

And then the freezing presence was gone, disappearing into thin air. Wels shivered, pushing himself into a sitting position. He should leave, who knew if Abyss was still around. But his legs were jelly and he couldn't find it in him to move. His chest hurt why did it hurt.

Droplets of water stained the cloth below. When had he started crying?

Bringing his knees to his chest, Wels sat still, hoping that whatever was wrong with him would pass. His breathing was shallow, wing-beat fast. Something was wrong with him what was wrong with him.

A heavy thump nearby, a hand on his shoulder. He flinched, shifting his body under and away from the touch. Everything burned.

Cooing from above him, in a note he recognised. Keloid. Avarice. He could feel them near, waiting for his permission. What was the noise for I need help again?

He gave a small chirping-coo, cutting the sound off early. He still couldn't breathe right. Multiple hands wrapped around him, cradled him in a tight hug. Someone was settled into his side, someone his size as a bigger-yet-smaller figure boxed him in on the remaining two sides. He lifted his head slightly from the cocoon of his legs.

He took in Avarice before him, Paladin curled next to him groping for his hand with eyes closed, the six arms of Keloid around his middle. He untangled his hands from around himself when had that happened and grabbed Paladin's seeking one, squeezing tight. Paladin gave him a chirping-coo, curling tighter into his side. Wels looked back up into one of Avarice's many small faces, too drained of energy to look up at the vexed shadow. "How?" he choked out, throat still dry.

Avarice hummed, voice less distorted than it normally was. "A̵̡̼̒b̷̬̓y̴̹̟͒̿s̶͐͜s̵̯͇̀ ̴̮͓̓ả̴͚̿͜p̶͕̦̀̐p̸̩̬̈́r̵̜͋͊o̸̧̍a̵̻̽̋c̴̳̆̈́h̷̘̒͗e̷̡̛͝ḏ̶̾̽ ̴̭͔̓ű̴͇s̷͍̲̿̃.̷͙̌"̸̔͒ Behind him came the more singsong voice of Keloid. ̵̫̮̃̕"̸̲̀H̶̤̲̔ē̶͇̱ ̵̡̡̆t̸̙̟͋ò̷̞̹̾l̴̙̳̂̌ḍ̴̜̄͌ ̸̺͖̈u̶̬̓̌s̵̯̈́ ̴͎͖͠w̶̘̓̃h̵͙̀̔ḙ̸͒̀ṟ̴̦̀͒e̴̩͐ ̶̝̝̇ỳ̵͍̀ǫ̸̬̾ṷ̸͆͠ ̶̞̻́͐b̴̝̻̉̈́o̵̯͛̓ẗ̸̟́͝h̷̺̔ ̴̱͘w̷͉̌ẽ̶̥̊ȓ̸̢̝́e̵̡͒.̶̟̝͒͝"̷̯̥̏

That was answer enough for Wels for now. Leaning back, he let Keloid pillow his body. Everything felt so safe and warm, surrounded by his family. "Tired." he mumbled, closing his eyes. Keloid only hugged him tighter, adjusting slightly to make Wels comfortable. A droning hum started up around them, tune soft and gentle. The distortions in the voices of the singers did nothing to reduce the call of the lullaby, and Wels drifted off gently, hand still held tight in Paladin’s.

#shadow people au #wels #paladin #keloid #avarice #Abyss #this fic was written so fast that I screamed at myself #also Im sorry #I swear after bad end fic there will be fluff #but only after the bad end fic #my poor knights #aight trigger tags time #panic attacks #addendum: Abyss is just really mad #and so he hits all the wrong buttons #I FORGOT ONE TRIGGER #cosmic horror #SO SORRY #my writing

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trilliontreesinitiative · 5 years ago

Text

THE TRILLION TREES INITIATIVE

It was really all my fault. Stars in my eyes, I haphazardly met strangers from the internet in more-or-less public places and pled my case, just to be brushed off over and over again. Months of pounding the keyboard, and trying to find people to help me, I gave up and decided if it needed doing, I could at least give it a game try.

I posted my plea to every corner of the internet, every newsgroup I could find, every fledgling website. This was back before there were pictures on the internet. I was a true believer then and was sure that if I found the right people, somehow we'd find a way to plant a trillion trees on our planet.

Spare change went to seedlings that I nurtured through frigid winters and increasingly hot summers. I surreptitiously planted them - a spade in one pocket and a sapling or ten in another, all wrapped in a damp rag ready for a moment no one seemed to be watching--I could add a sapling to a border of trees along the waters' edge, or in a little clearing of national forest.

Time passed, kids came, and overwhelmed by the responsibilities I'd willingly accepted without any real sense of the gravity of my commitment to the humans I'd made, I let my zealous mission drift off like my trapeze artist dreams from thirty years earlier. My kids were smarter than me, and kept me busy ferrying them back and forth with their extracurricular activities. I felt like an unpaid lab assistant for their science fair projects, but I knew that sacrifice was part of parenthood and I tucked my passions behind a mask of nurturing officiousness.

I truly forgot about the pleas I'd broadcast so carelessly. The internet was a wild place in the late twentieth century, and twenty years after my last screams into the abyss came the most unexpected answer, delivered simultaneously to my old and new email account and sent as a text.

WE CAN HELP WITH THE TREES.

It looked like it came from my own email address, my own cell number, and it was only addressed to me.

I almost swiped away the messages, but ... but what was I rejecting? My old mission? I still knew we needed trees to help counter our own environmental carelessness. What if my shouts into the void reached someone who could actually help?

I wrote and discarded responses, one after another. Finally, I replied with "I'm open to suggestions," and watched as my own words buzzed my telephone and felt foolish and a little more cynical as nothing happened. What was I expecting? Hackers to show up with bushels of acorns?

__________________________________

It wasn't hackers, it was a strangely bland man who rang my doorbell the next morning right after I'd hugged my kids and seen the bus shuttle them to school. Since I was still wearing pants, I answered the door.

"Sorry, we're renters" has been my greeting to anyone at my door for the last decade. It’s not actually true, even -- we bought our rented house before the kids were born, but it usually cuts off any sales pitch and lets any visitor trundle off to a more likely mark. I wasn't even really thinking about the weird message of the night before--my chore list was mighty and overwhelming and if I wanted to live in a clean house, I needed to make it happen--but the bland man took a breath before I closed the door in his face.

"THE TREES"

I don't know how it sounded like thousands of voices, all at once, at a conversationally comfortable volume, but I got a sense of foreignness, of something far beyond my understanding, happening right at my front door.

My chores didn't seem to be much of a priority anymore. I felt no danger from the stranger, just overwhelming urgency to do as he wished. My desire to invite the stranger to sit at my dining room table and listen was my only priority. I led the way to the table and offered some coffee to my guest.

"NO, THANK YOU" the myriad voices replied, sitting across the table from my spot. He just looked like a guy in his late twenties or early thirties. He could be my pizza delivery dude, or the guy who managed the movie theater, or a shoe salesman. Sandy brown hair was cut and combed neatly. He seemed to be in reasonable shape, with rested placid eyes and a neutral expression on his slightly ruddy face. He seemed both comfortably solid and like he was vibrating almost too fast for me to tell.

"HERE'S OUR OFFER" echoed (maybe only in my head? Maybe I'm actually going crazy. This is the weirdest interaction I've ever had with a sapient creature. I'm pretty sure that guy was not a pizza deliverer or salesman, he was something, maybe many things, different.)

The paper felt high-quality -- thick and smooth, but the letters were iridescent, black at first glance, but racing oil-slick colors at any angle. My eyes couldn't focus on it at first. Did this guy drug me? Why did I let him in my house? He was probably a serial killer. Or a mass murderer? All those voices all at once? This was insane.

"PLEASE READ IT"

I obediently looked down at the words.

"WE, THE UNDERSIGNED, WISH TO SAVE YOUR PLANET WITH YOU"

I looked up at the bland man and tried to explain my insignificance "I like where you're going with this, but I'm just one person. I'm not in charge of anything really, including my own children. I can't even keep my houseplants alive." I pointed at browning foliage in my house, a spider plant that was purportedly unkillable until my indefatigable inability to keep track of my own commitments caught up and dried out.

"WE KNOW WHO YOU ARE AND WHO YOU CAN BE. KEEP READING."

The words seemed to swim and reform as I looked down again.

"WE WILL BUY VAST TRACTS OF LAND AROUND YOUR PLANET. WE WILL PLANT YOUR TRILLION TREES. YOU JUST MUST AGREE."

I felt completely inadequate. I was in no way qualified to agree to this. I'm a suburban mom, not a diplomat or foreign dignitary. I recycle and try to avoid single-use plastics, but I'm not even sure that I'm doing that right. What if I was agreeing to an alien invasion? My authority is limited to two small humans who were at least half jerk, and that's not counting their father's influence.

More words scrambled across the page. "WE WISH NO HARM TO YOU. WE JUST WISH TO MAKE YOUR PLANET MORE HABITABLE, BOTH FOR US AND YOU."

Ah, there's the catch. Who the hell are they? Do I want to cohabitate with another species? What if they're like kudzu -- invasive and impossible to remove?

The page seemed to shimmer as the letters reformed: "WE WILL ONLY GROW TREES THAT CAN THRIVE WITHOUT DAMAGING OTHER SPECIES."

"But why me?"

"YOU ARE THE DREAMER"

"Even if I didn't want you to do this, there's no way I could stop you, so...sure! Go for it."

A pen rolled across my table and stopped, pointing at a big black X at the bottom of the page.

"SIGN AT THE X"

I looked over the page again. No legalese had suddenly appeared. The words were the same, The pen felt heavy and I knew I was doing something irrevocable but I couldn't seem to stop. I used my best handwriting and signed my name, which of course you all know by now.

The bland man inclined his head and took the paper at once, tucking it into an inside pocket of his tan corduroy jacket.

“THAT SHOULD DO IT,” his voice buzzed more as he stood, and moved to the door.

I felt bemused and a little like I’d signed something expensive away without fully understanding the value as I locked the door behind the stranger. Maybe I was seeing things. Maybe none of it happened.

__________________________________

The first sign that I hadn’t suffered a psychotic break -- to be honest, I was a little surprised it wasn’t, I’d always felt precariously balanced on the edge of sanity and figured this was the final separation of my tenuous grasp on reality -- the first sign was a few days later, when I finished matching another dozen socks, rolling them together, and throwing them in my older child’s underwear drawer. Her room was a pigsty, but we’d come to an agreement that her worktable was her problem and that no food was consumed in her room, so it was relatively hygienic. I looked out the window and saw that the empty lot next to my house no longer had a sign advertising a local Realtor and something was happening.

I slid my feet into flip-flops and walked to my mailbox and saw the bland man riding a giant lawnmower, cutting the native brush to nearly barren dirt. I flipped through three credit card offers I planned to dump straight into the recycling and leafed through the grocery circular and noted that pork chops were a few dollars cheaper per pound, so McRibs would be coming back soon.

The silliest things played through my head as I watched him clear the land, as a flock of quail (I have Opinions About Quail, mostly that they’re only saved from extinction by reproducing so much, because they seem to have a death wish near motorized vehicles) ran on foot just ahead of the mower.

I waved at the man, since we were acquainted. Sort of. I didn’t know his name, and I’d never even thought to ask. Why didn’t I ask? I’d signed a contract that I didn’t truly understand and I didn’t even know his name. I patiently waited for him to mow back toward my property line, the forgotten junk mail between my arm and chest.

He shimmered a little as he hopped off the mower and moved towards me.

“WE MUST PREPARE THE LAND.”

I nodded, like I knew his plan all along and was magnanimously supervising him. I offered him a bottle of water, or the use of my toilet, if he needed it.

“WE HAVE WHAT WE NEED.”

Why was he speaking in the plural? It hadn’t seemed odd until just then. My sense of incongruity and that something was Just Not Right began to ramp up. I waved at them and walked back to my bungalow. I popped online to see what was happening in the world and saw the bigger picture, easily seen by less self-absorbed human beings.

Every single vacant lot in the world was being mowed flat by a bland looking man, who was identical in feature to every other bland-looking man mowing a vacant lot. Too weird. Reporters tried to talk to the men, but they placidly mowed each lot, one after another. Where did all of the mowers come from? There were no brand markers on the machines. As soon as the lots were cleared, furrows were plowed. The bland men moved implacably, good neighbors every one, and stopped the racket of agricultural busywork well before dinnertime. They started the next day after sunrise.

The story got bigger as the days passed. It was on the front page of newspapers, and everyone seemed to have a hot take on what was really going on. Aliens? Nah, they looked too normal. Clones? How could millions of clones make it to adulthood without someone catching on? As far as I could tell, I was the only one who’d successfully spoken to any of these….people, if that’s what they were. I thought I might be able to tell someone about my weird experience, but I was also positive that no one would believe me. I told my husband the strange tale and he laughed at my creativity and rubbed my back as I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning, I drove the kids to school and went to the public library. I used it frequently for escapist fiction, mostly about young women in the early 19th century trying to snag a spouse. I went straight to the reference desk.

“Do you know what’s going on with these guys mowing and plowing everywhere?”

The librarian grimaced, “You’re number six to ask today. We have no idea.”

I returned a stack of Regencies into the slot next to the desk, and walked back to my car without grabbing any new trashy fiction. I drove home pensively, worried that I had fucked up something big.

Safe in my garage, I felt my anxiety rise, and I tried to breathe slowly and smoothly and reason my way through this mystery. I agreed to let someone plant the trees that I knew we needed. We clearly weren’t taking care of our planet and someone else was stepping in for us. Did it really matter that I didn’t understand their reasoning or motivations? I’d been begging the world for so long, and someone finally listened. Panic attack averted, I stepped into my kitchen and rinsed the breakfast dishes before loading the dishwasher.

__________________________________

I looked out of my kitchen window and saw a wall of trees in the formerly vacant lot. Not seedlings, fully grown and mature trees. I flipped on the news, and it was the same everywhere. The trees were in. The space station reported that there were just new trees everywhere, they hadn’t been uprooted from forests, they just suddenly existed. Every tree fit perfectly in its microclimate, and fruit and nut trees were included in each single-lot forest, freely available for hungry mouths.

I ran outside and looked for the man. He was standing with his hands on his lower back, looking up. Fruit trees were in full bloom. Conifers looked like they’d been growing there since time began. I stood next to the man. I didn’t even know what words I could use to express my gratitude, my discomfort, my fear.

“WE ARE DONE, MS. APPLESEED” he buzzed, and suddenly became a cloud of bees. The cloud, the machinery, the man all dispersed. The signed paper fell to the newly turned earth. The trees stayed where they were.

A lot of people had been watching the planters. A lot of people saw the planters become clouds of bees. A lot of people grabbed one of the billion copies of my signed contract, and everyone saw my name, clear as day. “Terra Appleseed, Mother of Trees”, the headlines called me.

My number was unlisted, but my phone didn’t stop ringing for weeks. I didn’t have any of the answers that the reporters wanted. I was just a dreamer, I told them. I don’t know why the bees listened to me.

The scientists had the most to say, of course. Carbon dioxide was down, oxygen was up. Glaciers stopped melting, and while I was trying to sound like a functional adult, refusing any interview requests, my older daughter figured out how to make cold fusion work.

She’d built a variation of a Farnsworth Fusor that fused two atoms of hydrogen into one of helium at room temperature, and suddenly eliminated the need for fossil fuel combustion. With a ready-built platform, we freely gave away her discovery to anyone who’d listen. At first, people thought I’d somehow organized the tree thing to sell my daughter’s invention, but I knew we’d get by fine without charging a dime. The truth was more mysterious and unexplainable, but we, as a species, weren’t going to get ourselves in such a fix again -- we didn’t need to. We just needed the bees to start us off, and my daughter to finish our addiction to combustion.

People started planting their own trees, too, but nothing made them grow forty feet in a day. The bees kept that secret. I was much too boring to stay in the spotlight for long, and I returned to my diet of trashy novels and quiet longing for that feeling of secret importance that had filled the days of planting, the wonder at this enormous leap towards peace and understanding that seemed to fall into my lap.

It was enough. My obituary decades later would focus on the mystery of the trees, the dream I tried to spread, and the unexpected way it came true.

The trillion trees initiative worked. We reached for the stars, comfortable that our home planet was safe. We found life everywhere we looked. As far as I know, no one ever spoke to the bees again.

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doomedandstoned · 5 years ago

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Nicolas Perrault from Rage of Samedi Taps Deep Emotion in New Solo Effort

~Doomed & Stoned Debuts~

By MelLie

NICOLAS "SCRIOS" PERRAULT -- some of you may have heard this name in the course of the German monster sludgers RAGE OF SAMEDI. German multi-instrumentalist, producer, live audio engineer, creative head in general, and bad-ass bassist of the aforementioned band. Often these artists are mostly referred to us in connection with the bands in which they play and we often know too little about their individual personalities and the solo projects they have to offer. Ashes on our heads!

After six years of walking the path of self-discovery and working on his authenticity as a solo artist, Nicolas has now announced the release of his first full-length album 'Shadows Cast At Dawn' (2020) on May 20th. That's why we should jump at this perfect opportunity to get a foretaste of the new album and take a closer look at Nick Perrault as "singer/songwriter" (a term that somehow doesn't entirely fit him).

With the song "Fires Within," Nick not only offers us a gloomy soul plough, but also a glance into his own soul. It is a gritty absolution punch, with abysmal soundscapes that deal with depression and anxiety. Emotional, melancholic, but in no way melodramatic -- a puristic and minimalistic-looking audio-active encounter with the emotionally frozen world and the breakout of those soul-damaging shackles. Like the Last Judgement runs Nick‘s throaty, heavy, powerful voice through the song and manifests itself like a memorial at the edge of the abyss into which the listener seems to look. This musical work is further underpinned by the impressive video-artwork, which was also created by Nick's own artistic hand.

I hope I have made you a little curious about the excursion into a border area of this heavy genre, which generally receives less attention here, and about the artistic work of Nicolas Perrault. Enjoy the ride through the abyss.

youtube

'Fires Within' music video

An Interview with Nicolas Perrault

By MelLie (Doomed & Stoned & Sunday's Heavy Tunes)

First of all, a warm "welcome", on behalf of Doomed & Stoned and our audience, Nick. It's only been a few months since you answered my questions as part of the gang of Rage Of Samedi! But this time, you are in the spotlight with your solo project! It‘s nice to have you here again!

It's an absolute honor to get to do this twice in a single year, so thanks for having me!

Nick, of course I have created my own impression of you in the process of preparing for this interview - at the latest now you still have the chance to escape! (laughs) How would you describe yourself? Who is this guy Nicolas Perrault?

I'm a multi-instrumentalist, tattooer, live audio engineer and producer and slightly sociophobic. So pretty much your average vegan straightedge dude who refuses to get a real job.

What made you decide to sell your soul to the "Devil Of Music"? In other words, how and when did you realize that you were burning with heart and soul to dedicate your life to music?

I've always played instruments, starting with the recorder, then organ and piano, bass, drums, guitar, bagpipes, and everything else. Way back when I joined my first band (a grunge/punk three-piece) and first picked up a bass, I realized I had a lot to say and music quickly became my outlet of choice. So about 18 years ago, but I didn't think of it in terms of a career yet, that only happened roughly six years ago, so I dropped out of university and started to work on my solo project.

You have left some very manifold and genre crossing footsteps on the pilgrimage through your personal music history: PTAH (doom), MOONSAIL (depressive pop-blues), and THRENODIA (black-metal) in former times are on my mind, current side projects are WILLE ZUR MACHT (avangarde) and you are the bass-riffer of Germany's blackened sludge doom monster RAGE OF SAMEDI! To what extent were these different musical influences and band experiences important for your progress as solo-artist?

I've spent a decade and a half working in bands, which would usually split up after a while, when the band became more serious and the others decided they'd rather pursue "real" jobs. So after a couple of those, I grew tired of waiting on the right people and just started working on my own. But every now and then I'd want to experiment with different genres, so I'd start a new project. The reason I'm now releasing under my actual name is that I didn't want to be stuck in one genre. I don't regret any of it, as they shaped who I am and the music I play now.

At the mention of your solo project, I could see the glint in your eyes. May 20th is the day! Let's light a sparkler for a minute! After three released EPs and six years of working as a solo artist, 'Shadows Cast At Dawn' will sail into the world as your first full-length album, which you even produced under the name of your own label Yew & Holly, right? What thoughts shoot spontaneously through your head right now?

Yup. I'm just incredibly excited to finally release this thing! It's been nearly six years and about eight different entire recordings, several changes to the track listing, heck- there are two tracks on the album that I only wrote this year! It's been a long, tedious journey and I'm glad for everything that happened along the way, because it made the final version of the album so much better!

Nick, let's turn the spotlight on the background information for your new album now. How would you describe your it to someone who has never heard your music before and which instruments play a major role?

A genre defying journey through post-modern life in a capitalist reality, focussing on depression and anxiety. Almost all of the songs are two sets of drums, a minute string section of violin and cello plus baritone guitar and vocals, that together create soundscapes so vast you might mistake them for an assassin's creed map.

Listening a little deeper into your work, one does not miss your natural fondness for philosophical thinking -- correct me if I am wrong with my assumption. Where do you get your inspirations from? And is there a message you want to convey to the listeners?

Well, I did study philosophy way back when. I tend to use naval imagery to paint a lyrical picture of depression and bipolar disorder, as a means of sharing the way I experience the world. It's likely not the most accessible thing you will ever hear, but it's a sincere expression of myself and that's really all I can offer.

"Fires Within," btw. Also one of my personal favorites of your album - is the amuse-gueule for our listeners What is the meaning behind this song and what moved you, writing the lyrics for this song?

"Fires" is all about setting boundaries and tearing down unhealthy relationships. If you have people in your life that hold you back instead of supporting you, ditch their ass! They're not worth the time and will poison any creative endeavor. Everyone knows at least a handful of these negative feckers and so did I. I spent years trying to help them get through their shit, but whenever I needed them they'd be more interested in getting drunk.

It's an unburdening from dead weight we carry, a cleansing, if you will. The chorus says "look not towards time, it brings only decay and destruction " and I think this is key to ridding yourself from negativity. Focus on your ultimate goal, that transcends trends and mood swings, that lives beyond time, and let it guide you. Don't stray too much from the path, or these negative influences will be right there waiting to cut you down.

"Fires Within"

Call upon the wind To wipe the surface clean He brings the rain and with it Absolution To carry with it the dust And bittersweet memories lost

Look not towards time To save your soul from fires It brings only decay and with it Destruction The fires burn from within Feast on the sand and it's running thin

Turn away from everything you hold dear To keep yourself safe from despair Cause all they bring is but loss All that remains is darkness when they are all gone Darkness that stretches like shadows cast from a new dawn

I would like to make a short swerve to the album cover. It is the wonderful artwork of Maryland based illustrator Luke Martin (Suburban Avenger Studios) who counts some famous musicians among his clients (Foo Fighters, Queens of the Stone Age, Arctic Monkeys, Red Hot Chili Pepper and others). How does the artwork relate to "Shadows Cast To Dawn"?

I've been a huge fan of Luke's work for years and a while ago he posted this picture to his Instagram. I was looking for something very specific to use as an album cover at the time. I needed it to evoke claustrophobia and a feeling of being safe inside whilst at the same time showing an outside, detached from the rest, just out of reach.

So imagine my jaw dropping as I saw this picture for the first time. It just struck me. So I wrote Luke, if he'd sell it. He had never sold a photograph before (plenty of awesome illustrations, though) so needless to say, I was very happy he did. He basically captured exactly what I had conceptualized -- that it's an actual photograph just makes it even better, as the concept is very much abstract but now has an actual physical representation.

The title "Shadows Cast At Dawn" was something that I had floating around in my head for ever. So when I began to work on the album that became the working title. Since I've worked on it for so long, that title has- in a way- effected everything I wrote, so it seemed to fit perfectly by the end.

Is there a special favourite place where you prefer to let your ideas mature? - a kind of soul-flyer place? I know you live in a small, rather idyllic place and not in a vibrant artists' metropolis! Whereby this way of living has advantages as well as disadvantages for an artist, right?

I love forests, oceans and mountains, so I'm pretty much alright with any surroundings, as long as I can escape civilization from time to time. Living out in the countryside allows me to focus, as you pretty much know where to find people, if you're looking for company but at the same time, you know where you are less likely to be found.

Sure, I need to travel a lot more to get anywhere and there aren't as many connections to be made face to face, but digitalization has granted us loners access to that aspect of life from the comfort of our homes, so I'd say it really depends on what you need to stay sane.

With the release of this album, you could now realize one of your dreams. Do we have another sparkler to light? What else do you have in the works? Are there any future plans that float in space? Or do you still carry around another big dream in your head?

I've already started recording for the next album, so fingers crossed that this time it won't take as long. Apart from that, I really want to tour the world, but circumstances aren't exactly ideal for that, at the moment. Apart from the music, I also tattoo and paint and hope to be doing more of that alongside music in the future. So if y'all wanna get some ink, hit me up!

Thanks a lot Nick, for giving us a deeper insight into your solo project and the things that move you! It's been very entertaining having this conversation with you here. We all will keep our eyes upon Nicolas "Scrios" Perrault in anticipation of your success!

Thank you very much, Mel, it's been my pleasure!

Leave Me To The Waves by Nicolas Perrault

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#D&S Debuts #D&S Reviews #D&S Interviews #Nicolas Perrault #Rage of Samedi #Germany #Doom #Sludge #Metal #Mel Lie #Doomed & Stoned

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sushigirlali · 5 years ago

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Admiration - Part I (Reylo Fanfic)

Part I | Part II | Part III

Summary: Padawan Ben Solo struggles to repel Snoke’s odious influence while coming to terms with his feelings for fellow student Rey of Jakku.

Parings: Rey + Ben Solo | Kylo Ren

Continuity: Jedi Academy AU; Rey is 19, Ben is 23.

Rating: E

A/N: This fic is dedicated to my wifey @grlie-girl under the prompt: “Poke me once more and see what happens.” (Which...we’ll get to lol) This is a “what if” scenario where Rey has grown up with Ben at Luke’s Jedi academy. I made Ben 23 because that’s about the age he fell to the dark side in the ST. Maybe things could have gone differently if he’d had Rey at his side back then. Enjoy! Set to Admiration by Incubus.

Master list –> AO3 | ff.net | Tumblr

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Admiration - Part I

By: sushigirlali

——————

Could you move in slow motion? Everything goes by so fast Just slow down a little Save the best part for last

——————

Ben marched out of the Jedi training center with his hood up and his head down. It was a struggle to keep his composure given the electrifying events of the last hour, but he did his best to look inconspicuous since several students were congregated in the courtyard outside. Luckily for him, they appeared too distracted by Luke’s latest lesson to pay him any mind.

“But what if you got stuck on some backwater planet during a mission and had to construct a lightsaber from scratch?!” an excited youth queried his friends. “Are synthetic crystals really suitable for Jedi?”

“Master Luke certainly thinks so!” a boy with a brown flat cap exclaimed. “He built a lightsaber with a synthetic kyber crystal on Tatooine and used it to single-handedly take out the entire Hutt Clan!”

“Single-handedly, huh?” Choking back a laugh, Ben imagined how his mother would react to the youngling’s erroneous statement. “She’d probably shrug and say something about boys needing to get their heads out of their cockpits,” he thought fondly, moving from cover to cover until he could slip behind the tall hedges that wrapped around the courtyard, “but deep down her blood would be boiling.”

“The way I heard it, Princess Leia was the one who saved the day!” a girl with fiery red hair piped up as he passed. “All because she and Han Solo were…”

The trio’s voices faded as Ben moved out of range of their conversation, not that he minded in the least. “Rey loves that story, but I’d rather not hear about the princess and the rogue for the thousandth time. They’re my parents, but I’ve never understood how two people could...” Rey’s knowing smile just before he rushed out of the training center flashed through his mind and his groin tightened in remembrance. “Never mind.”

Adjusting his stride, Ben debated the best way to get back to his room undetected. Given the state of his traitorous body, it would be beyond embarrassing to get caught before he could calm down. Stopping only when he reached the end of the hedgerow, Ben opened his senses and peered around.

The temple grounds consisted of the training hall at his back, the dining hall to his left, and the archive building across the courtyard on his right. The living quarters were stationed directly behind the dining hall, but it was likely he’d bump into someone if he went through the communal facility since it was so close to dinner time.

Deciding it would be more prudent to go around the building instead, Ben skirted past the entrance and darted down a small footpath adjacent to the building.

About halfway down the lonely path, Ben realized he was sweating profusely under his thick robes and slowed down to compensate. “Force, it’s hot,” he huffed. “When did it get so hot? It was almost chilly this morning. But now...”

Ben trailed off as he neared the end of the walkway, but his mind was racing. “I wonder if Rey and I have anything to do with the change in temperature?” It was an odd thought, but they were intrinsically intertwined through the Force. And with the Force, anything was possible.

Pushing the notion aside, Ben emerged onto the dirt road that separated the temple from the living quarters and approached his hut. The structure was slightly secluded from the rest, shaded by a few ancient trees and surrounded by a well maintained rock garden. It wasn’t much, but it was his.

Shouldering his way into the dark apartment, Ben closed and locked the door behind him before stripping out of his damp training uniform and tossing the heavy gray fabric onto the floor. Not satisfied, he shed his undergarments as well. “I’ll have to hit the ‘fresher later,” he thought, wiping ribbons of sweat from his brow.

”For now, though…” Ben moved to the silver basin on top of his bookshelf and grabbed a rag to wash his face. The damp cloth was cool against his skin, like an ocean mist on a warm summer day.

Not for the first time, he longed for the peaceful seas and mild weather of his beloved homeworld. “What I wouldn’t give to see Chandrila again,” he mused, retrieving his favorite silk trousers from the top drawer of his dresser. “To see mother and father again, even if they don’t want…” Ben paused, trying to suppress his long standing abandonment issues.

“Don’t focus on the things you cannot change,” he muttered, pulling on his pants with a little more force than necessary. The cool black fabric felt good against his skin, but he was still uncomfortably warm. “Focus on what’s in front of you, like Master Luke says. Focus on the things you can change.”

Sitting cross-legged on the end of his rumpled bed, Ben unlatched his shutters with a wave. A cool wind stirred through the window, giving him a modicum of relief from the punishing heat.

“If only the Force could solve all my problems,” he sighed, thinking of a certain hazel-eyed scavenger.

——————

You speak in riddles Your intentions turn me on I'm your's forever Will you love me when I'm gone?

——————

Laying his palms flat on his knees, Ben acknowledged that the weather wasn’t the only thing making him hot today. Rey had cornered him this afternoon on the pretense of training together, but he should have realized she was up to something the moment she suggested they meet in an isolated meditation chamber far from their Master’s watchful gaze.

“You’re too damn gullible for a Jedi,” he chastised, feeling all kinds a fool for allowing her to catch him off guard again. She was a talented Padawan, his equal in every way, but Rey seemed to want him to see her as a woman first and an apprentice second.

Unfortunately for his young admirer, physical interactions were forbidden to the Jedi, strong emotions taboo. And yet… “You just sat there like a dolt when she started kissing you.” Ben shook his head, trying to forget the sound of Rey’s soft sighs as her lips molded to his, the feeling of her small hands gripping his—

“Dammit!” he groaned aloud, scrubbing his flushed face. “You’re supposed to become a full-fledged Jedi Knight in little under a month! Besides that, there’s a very real chance that Rey will be named your Padawan for the last few years of her training! You cannot get wrapped up with her!” It was a difficult task, though, considering how good she felt in his arms.

“If Master Luke ever found out…” He shuddered to think what would become of them. At the very least, they’d be excommunicated from the New Jedi Order.

Still, it was becoming increasingly impossible to deny his admiration for the young orphan from Jakku, especially since she appeared determined to tempt him into behavior that was most decidedly against the Jedi code.

And therein lie his predicament.

Short of abandoning their Master’s teachings and leaving the Academy, there was no real way they could be together. They weren’t normal people with normal lives who could fall in love without thought to repercussions and...and...

“Wait. Love?” Ben froze at the revelation. “No,” he denied. “It’s not possible.” Taking a deep breath, he tried to clear his mind, desperately seeking guidance. "Your focus determines your reality," he chanted, repeating one of Luke’s most important lessons. “Focus on anything but her.”

——————

When I'm gone, You're an unfenced fire! When I'm gone, Over walls we've trampled! When I'm gone, It's you I admire! When I'm gone, My living example...

——————

Concentrating on the quiet whisper of wind filtering in through his open window, Ben leveled out his riotous emotions and slipped into a meditative state.

Life. Death. Warmth. Cold. Peace. Violence. And between it all, balance and energy. A force.

And inside him, that same force.

Reaching out with his feelings, he explored the remote rock his uncle had claimed for the Jedi. The local flora and fauna, all so familiar to him now, were soaking in the last few rays of light as the planet turned and the sun sank beneath the horizon.

Broadening his search, Ben studied the subtle movement of the massive sphere itself, noting how smooth the planet’s rotation was. The orbital speed was constant, beating a soothing tattoo inside his head.

“Almost like a heartbeat,” he thought, humbled by the complexity of the universe. There was so much he longed to explore once he became a Jedi. Planets, people, the mysterious of—

“Ouch!” Ben winced as a familiar splinter formed in his mind. “No, not now! Not again!”

Something sinister had stirred in response to his probing, calling out to him, urging him toward the black abyss of space. “Come to me, my child,” it bade. “You must fulfill your destiny!”

“No!” Recognizing the intrusion for what it was, Ben tried to lock down his consciousness using a technique he’d learned from Luke. “For better or worse, our family is well acquainted with the struggle between light and dark.”

The rumors and speculation surrounding Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala had plagued his family for years, so Ben was grateful that Luke had prevented him from being blindsided when the whole affair came to light last year.

“I'm not sure how I would have reacted had Luke withheld the truth about my grandparents from me, but with everything out in the open, Luke and I are closer than we’ve ever been.”

“He’s helped me see that I’m not the only one who struggles, that I can have faith in myself despite my failings.” And in all honesty, it was a relief to know that even after donning the evil visage of Darth Vader for so long, Anakin Skywalker’s soul had still been worthy of redemption.

“The love of his son saved him in the end. Despite everything, his Jedi spirit prevailed. The light prevailed.” The notion gave Ben hope.

A malicious cackle broke into his thoughts. “Hope? How trite. There is no hope for you, young Solo.”

“Get out of my head, you murderous snake,” he gritted back. “You’re not welcome here, Snoke. Not anymore.”

Ever since he could remember, there had been a small but persistent voice whispering in his ear, presenting him with all manner of temptations. When he was a child, it was the acceptance he longed for from his parents. As a teenager, power and glory. But just recently, the voice had become desperate, for Ben no longer wanted any of those things. He was a Jedi, like his grandfather before him, and his only goal was to serve the Force.

“Don’t lie,” Snoke said cruelly. “There is still something you covet. Or should I say...someone?”

“Leave her out of this!” Ben raged. All at once he wanted to hit something, to kill. The thought of this creature, this incubus, touching one hair on Rey’s—

“Ben?”

——————

Your eyes are an undiscovered ocean far away Any minute now keeping Both poets and priests at bay Don't get ahead of me Could we just this once see eye to eye? Could you want perhaps me? Ask me how it feels to vie

——————

Eyes flying wide, Ben turned to see Rey crawling through his open window. “Rey! What are you—?”

“Are you alright?” she asked without preamble, slipping onto the bed beside him. “I know you wanted to be alone, but I felt your fear and I—”

“Yes,” he lied. Except it wasn’t really a lie because the sinister voice had gone. Even with Luke’s exercises, the evil wretch still got in sometimes. But when he was with Rey...well, she seemed to drive off his demons.

She gently touched his damp forehead. “Were you meditating?”

“What? Oh, yes,” he said, coming back to reality. “Or, trying to,” he corrected, catching himself before he melted into her touch.

“Can I join you?”

“I don’t—” But she was already moving behind him. “Okay, then,” he sighed, half turning to look at her. “Do you actually want to mediate this time, or...?” She was facing the opposite direction, but Ben was wary of her intentions.

“I have no idea what you mean,” she said, copying his lotus pose.

“Really?” he replied sardonically. “I seem to recall you asking me to meditate this afternoon when in actuality you wanted—”

“Your virginity?” she filled in.

“Rey!” Ben exclaimed, astonished by her lack of tact. “You can’t say things like that!”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s—it’s—you just can’t!” he stuttered.

Rey met his troubled gaze. “Would you rather I lie?”

“Of course not!” he denied. “Though it might be easier to ignore my feelings if you did.”

“Ben, what’s wrong?” she said plainly.

“Besides the fact that you keep trying to seduce me?”

“Besides that,” Rey agreed. Her tone was even, but he could sense her smirking behind his back.

“Nothing, I just…” How did one confess that a mad man was trying to break into one’s mind at every given opportunity?

“It’s him, isn’t it?” she said quietly. “Snoke.”

“Yes.” It was uncanny, the way Rey always seemed to know what was troubling him before he could find the words.

“Not uncanny,” she returned, easily reading his unguarded thoughts. “It’s fate.”

Ben’s shoulders tensed. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” she said confidently. “Now tell me about Snoke.”

Knowing how protective she was, he tried to play it off. “It was nothing. The usual.”

“There’s nothing usual about an evil wizard trying to sway you to the dark side, Ben,” she countered. “Try again.”

“Really, Rey? What are you? My mother?” he grumbled. “Why did I even tell you about him to begin with?”

“Because you trust me.” She leaned back against him to prove her point and, damn her, the contact calmed his frayed nerves like a spiritual balm. “Now stop kriffing around and tell me the truth.”

Put that way… “He’s become weak in the last few years, desperate. But that only makes him more dangerous, not less, and I’m afraid…”

She rested her head on his shoulder, further improving his sense of being. “Yes?”

“I’m afraid he’ll hurt you to get to me,” he admitted. It was a revealing statement, but he owed her the truth. Rey’s life was on the line as much as his own now.

“So, he knows how we feel about each other,” she said matter-of-factly. Rey sounded less concerned than he’d expected, but she was like that.

“I’m like what?” she asked playfully.

“Brave—and annoying,” he informed her. Ben reached up and tugged on one of her looping buns. “Also, stop reading my thoughts. It’s rude.”

“Stop shouting them at me then,” she snorted. “Our bond goes both ways, Ben. If you really want to shut me out—”

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he said haltingly. “I just have a hard time keeping my head on straight when you ambush me like you did in the training hall.”

“Oh.”

“Not that I’m blaming you for Snoke!” he went on hurriedly. “You’ve always been there for me, Rey. You mean everything to me.”

“Really?” She searched for his hand.

“Yeah.” He let her take it.

“Ben?” she started seriously, lacing her fingers through his.

“Yes?”

“What happened this afternoon. What’s been happening between us for a while…” She drew in a deep breath. “I know you don’t want to hear it, but you must allow me to tell you how—

“Don’t.”

“But, I—”

“You can’t,” he interrupted again. “We’re Jedi. So, whatever you’re feeling is—��

“I love you,” she continued fiercely. “And I think you love me too.”

“No.” Ben shook his head even as his heart leapt. “You and I...we’re...”

“Yes,” she insisted, turning around to embrace him. “You and I. We’re meant to be together, Ben.”

“No, I--I didn’t mean…” he tried, sounding unconvincing even to his own ears.

“You feel so good,” she sighed, running her hands up and down his toned biceps. “Every time you’re near all I want to do is crawl into your arms and stay there forever.” Rey fit herself even closer, nuzzling her cheek against his bare shoulder. “I want you so much, Ben.”

“Stop it,” he said in an agonized whisper, aroused by her words as much as her touch.

“What if I don’t?” she replied, equally as hushed. “What if I strip off the rest of your clothes, mine, and make love to you until the sun comes up?” Rey slipped her arms under his, skimming her slim fingers up and down his naked chest in a hypnotic rhythm. “What if I take you in my hands, my mouth, inside me, everywhere...what then?”

Ben shivered at her seductive challenge, so turned on he could barely speak. “Then I would be ruined.”

“Is that why you’re scared of me?” she murmured sadly. “Because you think I’d sully you?”

“No, never,” he refuted, wanting to comfort her even as she drove him crazy. “You’re beautiful, a warrior; I could never be ashamed of you.”

“Then why? Why are you so scared of me?”

“I’m not!”

“Ben, you’re shaking,” she charged softly, able to feel every subtle movement of his body as she cradled him from behind. “And this afternoon, you ran away from me.”

“I ran because I wasn’t sure what would happen if I gave into my feelings for you,” he said huskily. There was no hiding his physical response to her closeness now, so he didn’t even try. Instead, Ben decided to go for broke; to chase her away before it was too late for either of them. “Rey, I can't do this.”

“But—”

“No, you’re not listening to me!” he thundered. “I’m not saying I don’t want to; I’m saying I can’t!”

“Why?” she said, her question a plea.

“Because there’s something wrong with me, Rey,” he said gruffly. “Something that’s always been there, poisoning me from the inside out. And I’m afraid that if we get any more involved, it’ll infect you too.”

——————

A/N: The Snoke Age of Resistance comic came out today, so all aboard the Ben Solo pain train!! Hopefully this alternate version of events will help ease it a little. I’ve got Part II about half way written, and it will include some sexy times. Would love to hear what y’all think so far! Check out my other fics, I have a ton!

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fic #reylo fanfiction #ben solo #kylo ren #rey #jedi academy au #luke skywalker #admiration #song fic #ily wifey #my fanfiction #sushigirlali #snoke comic #felt appropriate to post today

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