#but the moment he excels at it it stops being interesting and becomes a chore or another part of his fascade

[woodohwanedandproud]

@just-a-living-meat-thing #this is why I love light yagami he’s just a series of masks and every time you think you’ve reached the end of them you find a message #that just says error 404 true face not found #I think he’d have an obsessive interest in anything that challenges him #but the moment he excels at it it stops being interesting and becomes a chore or another part of his fascade #hence why he stopped playing tennis once he got championship after championship #and why he’s so attracted to detective work (not unlike L) because it’s guaranteed that theres always going to be a smart criminal #there’s always going to be at least one good hard case in a thousand easy ones

I was just thinking about what type of interests Light would have and then I realized, really who is he outside of his performance? His perfect student, perfect son, son of the police chief, who is he really outside of it all? He never even knew

[fadinglights]

✏️ + junjun

muses headcanons / accepting!

headcanons for junso

very spoilt but very lonely as a child given that he grew up in a single parent household and his mom was always busy with work commitments as a famous opera singer. used to wish he had a sibling all the time, so being in the band and getting to force his roommate into an older sibling role was a dream come true. 

when he just started training with the company and living in the dorm, it probably stunned some others how hd packed practical life skills, but that came with being born with a silver spoon and having every chore done for him. for the same reason, a lot of people initially assumed he wouldn’t last long under the harsh training schedule, but were surprised when they saw how well he performed. 

he’s a fast learner so he picked up how to do chores soon enough without attracting too much annoyance. it probably led to some funny moments like accidentally ruining his white shirts in the wash, almost causing a fire for microwaving his cupcake too long, etc. shoutout to yunho for practically raising him and teaching him the life skills he needed to survive.

he didn’t plan on becoming an idol at all. he’s someone with a wide and diverse range of hobbies. as a quick learner and someone labelled as gifted from a young age, he manages to excel in things that hold his interests within an impressively short time. his fixation that year was guitar and singing and he’s scouted at his school’s singing contest. at that time, he’s still under training to become a professional fencer, but he’s eventually persuaded to give it a shot. 

he didn’t like the aspects of being an idol other than what’s directly music related. it took him a while to adjust but he ended up doing remarkably well in evaluations and earning his spot to debut. being extremely competitive about everything his entire life and fearing failures help in his case. despite his flippant personality on the surface, he’s highly driven and stops at nothing until his goal is reached.

[glowingbadger]

Can I get some SFW and nsfw modern day Kaeya and Diluc stuff? Ty ty!

Damn I hadn't even thought about ModernAU Genshin before lol should be interesting- lesgoooo~

Side note- Genshin refuses to make actual sense of any of the ages of its characters, so I'm going with, like... mid-20's, semi-recently out of college for these two.

Kaeya, Diluc x GN Reader - ModernAU! headcanons

SFW (nsfw below the cut)

Kaeya:

- He's in law school, and has a real knack for discovering hilarious and exploitable legal loopholes. It's also a field that suits him for a number of reasons- it makes use of his infectious natural charm, and keeps him entertained with the 'stories' you happen upon working with people's legal and personal problems. He's also the best dressed in any of his classes, and in any given courtroom. Those who know luxury clothing when they see it can't help incredulously wondering how he affords his wardrobe while still technically a student.

- Kaeya is such a shitposter. He habitually 'likes' any and everything you post on any and all social media platforms- but he'll also comment "mmm who's that sexy thing" beneath the most innocuous images of you. He sends you dumb memes at concerning hours of the night- frequently while intoxicated, and especially when you've had a stressful day.

- As a partner, Kaeya is surprisingly loyal. His friends (and yours) will joke about him being a total slut, how you must have to keep him on such a short leash. He doesn't take offense to this though, and in a way, he gets a kick out of being perceived this way. But in truth, since he's been with you, he's never once considered anyone else. When you're alone together, there's a warmth in his gaze and a gentleness to his touch that no one else has ever seen.

- Everywhere Kaeya goes, he seems to "know a guy." He's always got an in- and an elaborate story of how he met this person and why they're, frankly, worryingly open to doing him favors. It's rare that a date with Kaeya goes by without you being offered free drinks, free desserts, a better seat at a restaurant or theatre, etc. Generally, when pressed, he'll wave a hand and say, "Babe come on, you know me- I just love making friends." Though you've heard whispers that some of his "friends" are just people who can't afford to be on his bad side.

Diluc:

- Was on track to become a police officer for some time, but it took barely a month from completing his training for him to become entirely disillusioned with the entire system. He quit (bluntly and forcefully, I might add) and now works as a P.I. His quietly thoughtful and serious nature puts clients at ease while allowing him to examine each case efficiently and effectively. I also figure we'd still carry over the "bartending at night" angle from the games- it's a great way to network and gain intel while undercover.

- His phone is basically a device for work, the news, and sometimes for contacting you, and absolutely nothing else. He hates the constant noise of social media, and refuses to jump on trends when things move too fast to get meaningfully invested in anything. Still, while he tries to angle his screen so you won't see it, he has set a picture of you as his wallpaper.

- Diluc loves the quiet, domestic side of your relationship. He treasures things like cooking together, cuddling on the couch with a movie, or even working on chores and projects together. He comes from money (though he doesn't talk about it much), so the more down to earth life that he's made with you is precious to him, and he appreciates all of the little moments that reaffirm your bond. That said, he does have an excellent memory for things like birthdays, anniversaries and such, and he is not shy about spending some cash on such occasions.

- Your friends all think he's super hot (and they're right), but are also a bit intimidated by him. Once, you tried showing them a sweet message he sent you drowning in heart emojis and they insisted that couldn't be him. Now there's a running joke in your friend group about your secret side-guy who leaves you nice voicemails when you've had a bad day and has flowers sent to your work- since they're convinced someone as serious and put-together as Diluc couldn't be your incredibly affectionate boyfriend.

NSFW 18+ v

Kaeya:

- Kaeya loves showing you off, especially in an outfit he bought just for you. It seriously turns him on to watch you over a nice dinner out wearing something a bit risque that he selected for you, noting the appreciative glances in your direction from others nearby, and knowing that you're his. The way his line of sight wanders your body all night makes it exceedingly clear that he can't wait to tear that lovely outfit off of you when he has you alone.

- Definitely the adventurous and experimental sort when it comes to kink, and he especially enjoys a bit of exhibitionism or semi-public fooling around. During a similar date night, with you looking so positively delicious across the table, he'll watch with a wolfish smirk as you squirm from the vibrations of a toy he pushed inside of you earlier that evening. He reclines in his seat and levels his gaze on you, saying, "My, darling, are you feeling alright? You look a bit flushed..." as his hand fiddles with the toy's remote. Then, once he gets you home or- even better -to a hotel, he'll press you against the window as he fucks you into panting, mindless bliss. Sometimes he doesn't even want to wait that long, and he'll find somewhere to park his car and fuck you in his back seat

- Kaeya has sending dick pics and lewd selfies down to an art. Seriously, his pictures are beautiful- of course helped by the fact that his body is gorgeous as well. Naturally, he loves to receive erotic images of you as well, and will save each and every one of them for "later use." If you're into it, he'll gladly send you a video of himself stroking his cock just for you, while describing every filthy thing he imagines doing to you in explicit detail.

Diluc:

- Generally speaking, Diluc wants to wine and dine you before the spicy business. He's a romantic at heart, and he wants you to know that he adores every part of you- and your body just happens to be one item on that list. He's not as obvious with his desires as some, but lingering gazes across the dinner table, or a hand at the small of your back trailing around your waist, all make his intentions clear. There's no doubt your lovely evening together will end with his strong body pressing you against his matress, his lips at your throat and your thighs clinging around his hips.

- He's generally fairly private about his sex life- not shy, per say, but insistent that your mutual pleasure is something for only the two of you. He's also not likely to sext or send lewd photos unless you really, really want them (and he's kind of adorably awkward about it at first even if he does try for you)- but if you tease him by sending him something naughty, his mind short circuits. His face burns crimson and he stops whatever he was doing and just stares at your beautiful body on the screen, as though he can already feel you in his hands.

- Diluc is a busy man, so there's likely to be stretches when the time and energy for sex simply isn't there. But once he's wrapped up a case and he finally has some time to breathe, you can bet he'll lift you into his arms and carry you to the bedroom the first chance he gets. You might even start to suspect that it's a way for him to vent his work stress when his thick cock pounds into you so nice and steady and deep- but you're certainly not about to complain, especially when you've been without him for so long.

[goodnightmemes]

DEXTER SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS (PART ONE)

Lines taken from 2x01-2x06 of the show Dexter. Feel free to change pronouns or edit in any way to better fit your needs. Here is part two.

❛ It's not what I want, for what I want doesn't matter. This is the only way I know how to survive. ❜

❛ I really need... to kill somebody. ❜

❛ You're in control of your urges, not the other way around. ❜

❛ Can we please secure this motherfucking crime scene ? ❜

❛ It's not him that you miss. Because what he had to offer wasn't real. The way he made you feel about yourself...That was real. ❜

❛ I'm just trying to figure out some way to feel alive! ❜

❛ This stuff never gets to you? ❜

❛ I'm more of a crying on the inside kind of guy. ❜

❛ This neighborhood? It's full of crazies. I'd lock my doors. ❜

❛ Tons of options: Everglades, alligators, pig farms, sulfuric acid, wood chipper, incinerator. Hell! Even meat pies. ❜

❛ So this is the man who stands between me and death row. ❜

❛ There is no such thing as the perfect crime. Not in my experience anyway. ❜

❛ If I believed in God, if I believed in sin, this is the place where I'd be sucked straight to hell. If I believed in hell. ❜

❛ I'm not so much doing this to you as I'm doing it for me. ❜

❛ Now, it makes sense. That's where you disappeared to at all hours of the night like Clark fucking Kent. ❜

❛ If the eyes were a window to the soul, then grief is the door. ❜

❛ I've been preparing for this my entire life. ❜

❛ I'm sure someone with a heart could answer that question. ❜

❛ You know those words don't mean anything, right? ❜

❛ Get used to food references because... I like food. ❜

❛ I go to stalk a killer and I end up with a new car. How did that happen? ❜

❛ Nothing stays buried. ❜

❛ Everyone in that room has heard or lived far worse than anything you've ever done. ❜

❛ The worst killers are usually the ones who think their murders were somehow... just. Even deserved. ❜

❛ You just hop from one lie to the next, no shame, no embarrassment, you just don't give a shit. ❜

❛ You're lying to yourself if you think you don't care. ❜

❛ I'm not sure of what I am. I just know there is something dark in me. ❜

❛ Things, people, who never mattered before are suddenly starting to matter. It scares the hell out of me. ❜

❛ You were right. I'm sorry to wake you up, but I had to let you know that you were right. ❜

❛ In our most paranoid moments, we fear that everyone is talking about us. That's become my reality. ❜

❛ It makes me feel like the whole world could explode at any moment. ❜

❛ I don't have a badge. I have a laminate. ❜

❛ You haven't got the first idea who you are, have you? ❜

❛ You don't kill this many people because it's a chore. You do it 'cause you like it. ❜

❛ I've always been good with parents. The key is to simply think of them as aliens from a distant universe. ❜

❛ The last guy I had sex with tried to kill me. ❜

❛ Okay, this is the first time I regret not being a bigger nerd. ❜

❛ He asks you a question, I want you to think of your answer first and then tell him the exact opposite, okay? ❜

❛ You know, I've been thinking about you breaking up with me, and, well, I don't think it's in your best interest. ❜

❛ There are no absolutes. No one's all good or evil. ❜

❛ You make yourself into a monster so you no longer bear responsibility for what you do. "I can't help it. I'm a monster. "Of course I was gonna do that. I'm a monster." It's sad and it's pathetic... And it breaks my heart. ❜

❛ You don't think there are monsters in this world? You don't believe people are evil? I'll show you evil. ❜

❛ For the first time, I feel the future might hold something different for me. It's possible I'm just fooling myself, but I'm willing to take the risk. ❜

❛ I suddenly find myself weighing the benefits of electrocution versus lethal injection. ❜

❛ Sweet mary, mother of fuck, that's good! ❜

❛ I never expected to get better. ❜

❛ You think you're charming, don't you? ❜

❛ And you're not the least bit pissed off that this man got away with murder? ❜

❛ Healing is all about focusing your rage on the person that's hurt you. ❜

❛ I'm not the person I'm supposed to be. It's like I'm hollow. ❜

❛ I hide in plain sight, unable to reach out to people close to me. I'm afraid I'll hurt them. Like I've hurt so many others. ❜

❛ If you can't be happy for me, then maybe you shouldn't be here. ❜

❛ You made me into what I am! ❜

❛ If you turn back now, you'll go right back to the way you were...hollow, angry, alone. ❜

❛ I will get you through this. I swear. Just come back to me. Okay? ❜

❛ You ran a background check on my boyfriend? ❜

❛ Imagine that... a life with no more secrets. ❜

❛ Everyone has a moment when they realize their value system is different from their parents'. ❜

❛ Rumor has it you have a knack for attracting serial killers. ❜

❛ Sorry if I was short with you this morning. I'm lost without my morning coffee. ❜

❛ I thought you were different than ____, but you're the same. Actually, you're worse. You made me trust you. ❜

❛ I have been patient and understanding, but there's only so much I can take. ❜

❛ What in the name of fuck are you doing up so early? ❜

❛ When I get pissed, I say stuff I don't mean all the time. "I hate you," "I faked it," "You're hung like a grape." ❜

❛ Stop being a douche bag and go fight for her. She's fucking perfect. ❜

❛ I heard what you said. I just don't take orders from you. ❜

❛ You want to hit me? Go for it. I've been waiting for a chance to take your ass out. ❜

❛ Nobody fucking listens to me! ❜

❛ Last time, you came back covered in blood. ❜

❛ Apparently my new life involves a love triangle. ❜

❛ The voices are back. Excellent. ❜

❛ I've spent years looking the enemy in the face, and I'm telling you ____ is dangerous. ❜

❛ Chin up little sister, these things have a way of working themselves out. ❜

❛ You attacked those people because you wanted to. ❜

❛ All my life, I've done what someone else said I should do, been who he said I should be. I followed his rules, I stuck to his plan. I never stopped to think about what I wanted and what I needed. And now I don't know who I'm supposed to be. ❜

❛ I will kill you. I have to. I just don't need to. It's very empowering. ❜

❛ There was a time I would have done anything to protect ____. I would have even lied. But today I told the truth... even though I knew she'd get hurt. ❜

[shinygoku]

gordon gordon gordon gordon

Gordon Gordon Gordon Gordon!!

He's been sneaking into these asks by proxy, so it's finally time for his dedicated session, hehe~

First impression

WUAAAGH what's up with this WEIRD LONG NOT-THOMAS and his FACE?!

Impression now

His face is still pretty weird! But you know what else it is? Part of an Absolute Legend ✨

Like, man, Gordon is such a big presence and interesting character, the entire premise leans heavily on him. I'm inclined to go as far as to say that the Blue Boys of 1, 2 and 4 here are the three most important characters for the franchise (not at all to knock everyone else lmao) and they slot nicely into a Triforce of Courage, Wisdom and Power, and Gordon has Power in spades!

Gordon is The Vain One (not James!). He's legit very strong and the fastest on Sodor (which isn't just being a big fish in a small pond because that island has some crazy cool engines!) but unfortunately he lacks humility. His success seems to have been lodged in his head before the series even begins and this Pride is the source of pretty much every single conflict he's involved in.

But when it isn't his self satisfaction in his actions, it's being smug about being such a grand, magnificent Tender Engine and he is snooty as hell about it. He seems to look at smaller engines [pretty much everyone compared to him lol] as a lesser class, particularly if they're small and cheeky and Tank Engines. This may not be the case exactly, but his way of talking to them and some other things he says are very condescending.

However... as much as a gigantic jerk he is at several points, with Gordon I kinda feel like he plain ass doesn't conceive of his words being out of line. That and having to Unlearn things... he's not innately better than everyone else. He sees things in black and white. There are Useful Engines, and those who should be scrapped. There are Noble Tender Engines and Lesser Tank Engines who exist to do the tedious chores on behalf of the Superior ones. Edward doing shunting is seen as Demeaning and contradicts Gordon’s world view that Tender Engines Don't Stunt™, and he doesn't like that one bit! (Also Edward was crossing the picket line but that wasn't Awdry's concern lmao)

Related is Gordon does seem oddly dense at times, like assuming that Tenders are in of themselves a Status Symbol rather than a large lunchbox of sorts lol, or that Tender Engines like him being too heavy for Branch Lines being because something about Branch Lines are degrading. This might be all Elitist Brainwashing influence. But still, that he just takes these as The Truth means I get to affectionately call him an idiot. And there is no other way to explain how he genuinely believes Bill and Ben were going to murder him if he wasn't missing a few brain bolts in there.

Fortunately, he does eventually start to learn the important lessons.... very gradually, but the Early Gordon is a pretty different beast to Later Gordon, and it's wonderful~

Also, I gotta give credit to him for having some moments of utter brilliance and actual grasp of reality and more complex matters, like culture. (Yeah, I'm rolling with his geniune Opera Knowledge from s6 of all things. It's good!) As much as Awdry himself may have disagreed, Gordon was in the right to want a Station Pilot and the Strike was called for (not bullying Edward for it, but myeah) ...but this leads to my next point: He seems to have a mental block when it comes to Emotions.

Certainly, he's as emotional as the others are, it's not just a scale of Snooty, Arrogant, Condescending, Prideful ....well, it is, but ALSO the more mixed and varied feelings: Shame, Sadness, Fear, Ambivilance, Irritation, Anger, Passion, Amused, Delight and so on. However, Gordon is seemingly unaware of how his words may make the others feel, and even at his cruellest it doesn't look like he's aware he's twisting a knife in. To Gordon, he's being honest, but his verbose manner ends up twisting and wriggling away from any valid point like an overgrown vine that somehow links back to how [Other Engine] is disgracing him, Gordon, by association.

Examples include: Being offended by Henry's new shape (??? Gordon dude he nearly died and this is an improvement, a good thing!), saying that Edward's age and difficulty starting a heavy ass packed load of passengers is grounds to be Retired or even Scrapped, other little insulting things like calling the likes of Thomas and James Little insistently (it seems to vary if he's trying to put them down or actually be affectionate), and many more when in the hands of inept writers who have to wheel out the same Gordon Learns A Lesson Plot every other season.

Like I said in the James post, I also think he kinda poisoned the Red guy with his snooty attitude... but I maintain that I think Gordon was unaware of this. He may know he has Influence, and enjoy that, but he really truly doesn't appear to mean to mould James into a smaller, redder version of himself. He's oblivious and from his own point of view, benevolent. Which is in fact a dangerous combo indeed!

It's... a lot o7;;

Again though, if you're looking at the books and s1-s5 of TVS you can see him grow and change. He does take a while to learn the lessons, but as time goes on he moves 2 steps forward and 1 step back, then eventually less steps back entirely. It's great! And so is Gordon. A big dumb meathead with not entirely uncalled for delusions of granduer. A dramatic so-and-so who is the best engine for his job.

I love this sophisticated jock who grows more kindness~ 💙

Favourite moment

Hm! This isn't as easy to decide lol. We all like Gordon Goes Foreign... but you know what sticks in my mind more?

hOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHH

Look, I’m not 100% objective, here! But Ringo’s read of this line is fantastic (and keeps making me expect him to finish saying OOOHH SHIT) and it’s also a well deserved bolt of divine retribution for how rude he was being earlier. (As long as my essay already was, he very much needed the knocking down of some pegs here!)

Idea for a story

While both my fics with him thus far have been variations of Pre-Canon, Full-Arrogance and Snobbish Gordon (and both were a lot of fun!) ...but I cannot bear the same expired horse being beaten more when the story is set waaay later but he’s still up his own ass. Please, PLEASE writers, let him hold what growth he’s managed to gain!

I think it’d be good to accept that he’s gonna be outdated sooner or later, so have him help train another High Speed Engine and take them under his wing. The Christopher Awdry books kinda have something similar with Pip and Emma, but I think a better way of having Gordon be involved would be if he was actively doing some mentoring himself, as well as being a neat parallel with Edward, whose type was once Express only but got outclassed by A1s, and so the same can happen to this big A1 -> A3 lad and he can form a healthy relationship with some bright eyed newbie (and maybe have some self awareness and try to stop their head getting too large, lol).

Unpopular opinion

I know I just said him mentoring would be a cool story idea, but in canon? He is NOT a resident Dad type!! He’s a hotshot young man but he’s also a hot mess. He’s physically large but he’s not got the Energy of someone who dispenses sage advice and a shoulder to cry on. At best, he’s a weird uncle! One who means well but you shouldn’t take his life advice to heart because he’s actually just as, if not more clueless than you!

Favourite relationship

I feel inclined to say Thomas here. Emphatically not because Gordon is ‘old’ and Thomas is ‘young’, but because they’re so damn alike and actually make an excellent, albeit unconventional type of Rivalry.

Both are self important with genuine finesse in their respective talents, both are honest to a fault, both have redeeming qualities to offset their initial abrasiveness, and the first TVS episode is centred on the both of them and sets the tone for the series as a whole. There’s more parallels, of course, but I also wanna point out they’re effectively the mascots of North Western Rail in universe too, and I absolutely love this picture:

I also have immense fondness for the Down the Mine paradigm shift! Thomas gives Gordon grief over the ditch incident and later when it emerges the Fat Controller is gonna send for Gordon to pull him out, Thomas is filled with dread. But Gordon isn’t using the chance to lord over Thomas, he’s actually so amused by Thomas’ mishap and it coming at a time where he’s been significantly humbled, they instead become Comrades and I love it. I eat it up! Paint Pots and Queens isn’t anywhere near as good but I adore the little bit where they’re appealing for the other, equals and watching each other’s back~

But yeah, as Friendly Rivals they both feel very authentic and yet, in a daft way, sweet ;3

Favourite headcanon

He still says ���Hurry, hurry, hurry!” when pulling the Express. That’s a HC as I think the show phased it out, but I like it lol. I feel like my essay on him contains most of the headcanon stuff, but it’s all based on what’s shown, baybee!

[the-blind-geisha]

I thought I remembered you mentioning Demiurge managing an idol mc? (or it could have just been a weird dream of mine lol) do you have any Demi-P headcannons about that?

Haha, you're actually correct, anon. It was me, yes. I talked about it in my comment section on one of my old posts, because I thought it did sound interesting!

I'll be happy to do that for you~. I'll break it up into two different types of people as I love the dynamic of both Supreme Being and races he deems as 'lesser'.

Lesser Being (human/ demi-human/ect)

Demiurge was no doubt showed the ropes of how a producer of idols should be by (over) reading and analyzing everything he needs to know about them from Ashurbanipal.

Thinking that a connection between the races could be even more possible with somebody outside of Nazarick, he would go out of his way to find that perfect singer and performer.

He finds her—perhaps as she's singing while doing chores outside or even when she assumes she's alone in her room. He has excellent hearing, after all, and could easily pick up on her vocals behind walls and closed doors.

If she lives alone, he will wait for the perfect moment at nightfall to knock on her door and introduce himself. If she doesn't, he'll sneak in at night through the window to reduce the risk of being seen by anyone else.

He'll use the 'devil's contract' tactic of trying to get her to sign her life away to him and what he requires. He wants her to align with Nazarick. Naturally, he'll make sure to keep her mind and such away from actually reading the fine print by swearing he'll do right by her and making her dreams come true.

The moment she signs, he has her and takes her away to a building that's in Re-Estize to help her become even better than she is.

But she's shy, and she's never done this before. Even when he asks her to sing, her voice shakes in nervousness. This presents a problem for him. Demiurge has to work on encouraging her a little bit if possible.

He gets her to practice singing in front of him at the very least till asking Ainz for some undead and demons he can maybe use as an audience to further encourage her (even if it freaks her out seeing death knights in the front row with him).

When she gains her courage to sing in front of others, he has to work on her ability to dance and sing.

Demiurge becomes her dance partner to help her with a few basic steps, but in doing this, he probably becomes closer than he really wanted to with the MC.

He promises he'll make her the best in all of the New World, and everybody will worship her.

And just so. Her fame does take off and everybody loves what she does. However, the crazy fans start to agitate him as he protects her by acting like a 'producer' when really he's also doubling as her body guard and overzealous mate.

Any guy that tries to even dare touch her will not meet with a happy end—even if Ainz insists Demiurge play nice with the lesser beings by this point.

He decides to 'update the contract', telling her it's imperative she signs it as he didn't think about a few other details. He promises he only made a few 'corrections' when really, he added another few things to the fine print in regards to her being his and his alone.

She signs it without thought, making him grin from ear to ear that she's so easy to control.

He swears he'll continue to make her dreams come true, when all he's thinking about is later trapping her into marriage.

Supreme Being (or any working for Nazarick)

After his research within the tomb to think of how to become a producer of idols, Demiurge now has to find the perfect person to fit the role. While he knows Shalltear and Aura will do just fine, he worries their onstage chemistry might cause more problems than solutions in raising the peoples' morale. He wants a backup plan.

Upon drifting about the tomb in thought, he overhears the Supreme Being MC singing to herself and stops to listen. He's intrigued and invites himself into her room without thinking to praise her for such beautiful words.

He compares it to angels and how he—an unholy demon—is unfit to listen to such a masterful piece of art.

He realizes what he's done and bows respectfully, requesting she let him be her producer.

When she agrees, he does his best to see her perform in Nazarick's theater room on the Ninth Floor.

He is the one that writes her music and even plays either on the piano or violin (as I like to think he's very good at both of these instruments, since some cords can be dubbed 'devil cords' or 'devil's interval' that he probably plays into her songs now and again to make them seem ominous and yearning in sound).

MC sings a lot of songs that are unknowingly about the love and admiration he has for her. She just thinks they must be random love songs he possibly heard from the guild mates way back when. Maybe she even goes so far as to crack a joke Ulbert left a few cheesy tracks in Demiurge's file, and that's what he's pulling from.

But no. They are all original melodies and lyrics he composed well into the late hours of the day and night to try and give her a long list of songs she will sing.

But she's never sung in front of anybody or performed and her first night to do so doesn't go so well. She gets so scared that she runs from the stage in tears, leading Demiurge to comfort her.

He reminds her that there's nothing to be afraid of—that he would kill anybody who would dare harm her in such horrible ways of booing her. When that doesn't work, he takes to the stage to be her pianist and plays the music while she sings.

Everybody is allured and finds the music enchanting and encouraging as they range from happy and upbeat to somber and foreboding the next. She knows routines for them all.

When the performance is over and she feels more inspired, Demiurge swears to always be her producer and do his best to give her music that he's made to sing and dance to. He wants her to be the devil's one and only idol.

[simprisottowriter]

Helloo again can you write some fugo headcanons ? Some cute and funny like gyros would be very nice UwU

   Wonderful to see you again, UwU anon! Your character choices for headcanons are so lovely! Fugo is multidimensional, well-written with such depth, even if his appearance in the series was short. He deserves more attention and love!! ♡♡ Let's shower this boy with appreciation, with these headcanons! 

°☆ Personality, Private Life & Relationships ☆°

◇ Treasures cute things, like charms or pendants. To him, their monetary value doesn’t matter. Memories are what make him keep anything close to his heart. Hidden in plain sight is his keychain, a small red puppet charm that decorates his keys. Cutesy and delicately worn by time as all the other small trinkets he owns, that remind him of the nicer moments of his childhood.

◇ Might look very unapproachable, but once someone gets close to him, they see a completely different side of him. Thoughtful, tender and sympathetic wouldn’t be the words someone would use to describe Fugo the first time they met him, but would definitely be the first words that come to mind after being near him for a while. In his private life, he would be a bit strict, but very understanding and well-mannered. He is so professional at everything he does, that it is pretty impressive.

◇ Incredibly good at card games, board games and anything that requires strategy. Wins most of the times. He doesn’t even try hard to win anymore, since he only plays with Mista and Narancia, as everyone else in Bruno’s team is too busy. They both just get confused at the game rules and do anything else than play properly, as Fugo just stares deadpan at them till they follow the rules. He can't help but laugh along with them with their antics. Even if he feels like he is babysitting them most of the time, he loves them much.

◇ Acts like he doesn’t find them even a teensy bit funny, but he adores puns and silly jokes! Tries to act serious all the time, that it’s so out of character when he secretly laughs at any ridiculous joke Narancia and Mista say. 

◇ Loves art! In all its forms. But mostly adores painting. You could probably show him a painting, and no matter how famous or not it is, he would recognize the artist solely from the art style. Bruno’s Passione considers it some sort of game to continually show random pictures of art to Fugo to recognize them, till he either gets angry or they get bored. Did I say that he loves abstract art and surrealism?

◇ When no one is around, Fugo passes his time like he always used to, by playing the piano. It is one of the most wonderful moments, that his teammates treasure, to listen to the piano playing while unlocking the door, as they return from a difficult mission. Brings the serenity back to their hearts. Makes them forget for a moment about their stressful work. Would also play soft Brahms and Bach music pieces, to ease insomnia and make a sleepless night bearable ♡

◇ More academically skilled than socially skilled, but he is trying his best! Small talk isn’t his greatest thing, but he is the best person to have around for deep conversations or debating. He is knowledgeable about many subjects and could keep the conversation interesting for hours with his facts and ideas.

◇ Loves it when he can share his interests and personal thoughts, without being ignored or belittled. Values trust more than anything.

◇ And once he finds someone he truly trusts, Fugo’s anger and fear will subside. Most notably, this would be easy to recognize not only from Fugo himself, but from Purple Haze. The stand would appear more often, but this time, more controllable, more tame and less dangerous than before, till it is completely harmless on its own. And not only that, but once Fugo manages to fully control Purple Haze, its performance and power would be unmatchable!

◇ Appreciates it with all his heart when someone helps him with his tasks. Even if he won’t admit it or even does all his chores by himself just to prove that he is very independent, he really wants a helping hand. Even if it is just staying by his side. Staying up late to aid his studying or helping him with daily problems of small importance are favors he would definitely return in the future. Acts of service and some fine quality time are a must for Fugo ♡

◇ Cleaning around the house or doing chores might be a hassle for many, but he actually likes them. Once he finds a place that he feels safe enough to settle in, that he can call his own, he is going to take care of it as much as he could.

◇ Gets disappointed in himself when he does absentmindedly a calculation wrong. It has stuck with him that he must excel in everything, and thus criticizes every small mistake he does. He’s a perfectionist to the core. Even if others around him understand and immediately forgive him, his expectations for himself have been raised too high, from all the events that took place in his past. It's difficult for him to loosen up.

◇ Emanates a soft scent of old books, perfume and a flowery aroma of freshly cleaned clothing. Feels just like home.

◇ Knitting and sewing are some of his favorite hobbies. They keep him at ease and make his intense anger disappear. He has a collection of small plushies he made himself. Refuses to show them, since he doesn’t believe they look well-made or worth showing, but in reality they are some of the cutest plushies you've ever seen!

◇ Has collections of worn-out books. With covers discolored and tattered from hours of reading next to the light of the nightstand. Their pages are slightly crumpled all over the edges, and remained as such, even if he constantly tried to straighten them out. Their white color, along with the letters, have been slightly faded and tinted brown. His bookshelves are filled with them. Upon inspection, you can recognize which book he is reading, even if most of them have a bookmark sticking out of them. His current read always has his most favorite handmade bookmark, a special request from a store in Naples.

◇ Won't be the person to approach others, but wait till someone else does the first move. He doesn’t believe he is worth someone's time, thus refuses to start anything. Usually never takes the lead, since every time he made the choice to stand up for himself, it cost him happy times of his life that he couldn't replace.

◇ Needing glasses won't be something he would admit. Even if his eyesight isn't that bad, he has always a pair of white-framed glasses in his pocket when he needs to read something up close. Wears them often when he is reading on his own, and not really in public.

◇ Has learned enough about cooking to be able to live on his own, but he is especially great at brewing tea or coffee. These are his go-to drinks, depending on the time of day or his schedule. Also loves sweets way too much!

◇ Refuses to realize that he deserves love and much, much caring. Really undervalues himself. 

◇ His whole body would probably freeze if someone held his hand. Mainly, he wouldn’t know how to react and would be very embarrassed about it. Though, he is so touch and attention starved that even a small movement that shows care and love would stay in his mind forever. A hug would send him. He wouldn't probably know how to articulate a sentence after that.

◇ Though, he flinches very easily when someone attempts to get close to him or touch him, like with a friendly pat on a back or his head. Not only that, but his speech becomes weaker and faster than before, he keeps looking away and his breath cannot regulate. Repressed memories of painful times flow back again. He cannot realize the person he has in front of him doesn't want to hurt him, and his body instinctively is on guard. The flinching stops when he is fully used to someone's presence, and trusts them with all his heart. He is worth the patience someone could give him, since he is a sweetheart!

◇ You can notice when he is in high spirits, since he hums joyfully the melody of his favorite songs while doing rather mundane tasks. At first it is very unnoticeable, but after you learn his behavior, you understand what makes him happy, even if he doesn't show it. Turns really bashful and tries to hide his embarrassment by looking away and sighing, when someone recognizes which song he is humming. He holds his personal interests (such as his music taste) very close to him and keeps them hidden, so it's a surprise to him to find someone that tries to break the walls he has built up. Oh, and since I mentioned his music taste, he would probably be a fan of rock, but I believe he would like any song that he just likes the vibe of it.

◇ As roughly explained above, a very private person. About his thoughts, past life and his current feelings. Takes a while for him to fully open up to someone. And even if he finds someone he trusts, he has a hard time letting all his emotions out. Knowing himself and how his feelings burden him, he refuses to let others know he truly feels. Repressing all his emotions, just because he doesn't want his loved ones to feel the pain he does. Deeply cares, even if he hides it under layers of anger. Caring and strong, as always.

[charlessmithhasmyheart]

Title: Hunting Hijinks

Genre: Romance

Type: Charles x Reader

Triggers: None

A/N: Hey hey hey! This is a gift for the lovely @fangirl-ramblings. When I got the message that I was your secret santa, I was super excited! You are defs one of the people who I would consider to be my biggest supporter throughout this blog endeavor. Seriously! I would like to apologize for how long this took, but I wanted to make sure I was happy with everything before posting.

I know you had requested something about several people, so I chose Charles! Hope this is to your liking.

Here ya go! :)

____________________________

The sun was slowly sinking, the fire in front of you easily becoming your only source of light. The camp and it’s residents had been in the process of setting down for the night. Everyone but you. You were sitting on a log lost in thought, head resting in your hands as you stared into the flames; the object of your contemplation being none other than the mysterious Charles Smith.

Of course, this was of no surprise to you. It had been happening quite frequently. Charles was on your mind a lot. Especially since you had officially become a member of the Van Der Linde Gang.

A small smile began to tug at your lips as you recalled your first encounter with the illustrious group of outlaws.

You had been a bounty hunter then. Well, you hadn’t really been a true bounty hunter. You were just taking odd jobs from the wanted posters around Valentine and Saint Denis. It wasn’t the best work, but it paid well when you succeeded. And you did.

Believe it or not, you had actually met them during one of your jobs. You had been tracking a particularly elusive criminal for a few days. He had held up the general store and robbed a few of the townsfolk. Killed some too. The sheriff was adamant that he was brought back; alive or dead, it didn’t matter.

You were on the trail, the tracks very fresh when suddenly gunfire broke out ahead of you. Intrigued, you spurred your mount on only to come face to face with a shoot out. The target in question was crouched behind an over turned wagon, his own horse dead, as bullets from his attackers, three of them, soared through the air.

Determined to be the one to bring him to justice, you pulled your own gun from its holster and spurred your mount on again. Unfortunately the criminal, in what you can only assume to be a moment of stupidity, peaked from around the wagon, pistol loaded, only to receive a bullet to the face. With him now dead, the attacker’s switched their attention to you, guns still drawn. A curse slipped from your lips as you brought your horse to an abrupt stop.

“You take one step closer miss, and I cannot promise you’ll get away unharmed.” Warned their leader, who you later on learned to be Dutch.

When you made no move to speak he continued.

“Now I suggest you lower your weapon and we can talk this out. I see no reason for any more blood-shed.” He spoke, lowering his own weapon and signaling for the others in his group to do the same.

It took a moment, but you complied and re-holstered your weapon. Then came the conversation that would change your life. You had explained how you were a bounty hunter, making money to survive on your own after your family had died. Dutch responded in kind; giving you the run down of his gang, and, when he was finished, offered you a place to stay. After all, a woman of your abilities would be beneficial to their cause. Seeing as you had no better options, you accepted.

When you had arrived at their campsite at Horseshoe Overlook, you were introduced to many people who, despite being outlaws, were some of the most kind and hardworking people you had ever met. You fit right in, quickly developed relationships with many of the gang members, and the rest was history.

But despite all that, there was one member that you still hadn’t been able to understand.

When you had first been introduced to Charles, he barely mumbled a greeting or looked in your direction before heading of to complete some chore. You had brushed it off in the beginning, assuming you would find time to get to know him later. Now, it was later, and you knew next to nothing other than you had developed feelings for him.

It was all so odd. How could you develop feelings for someone who wouldn’t speak to you, let alone even look at you in the eyes? Sure, you had admired his silent nature, his penchant for taking on the difficult or unappealing jobs and his kindness with the other gang members from afar. Not to mention, he himself wasn’t unappealing to look at. But it still frustrated you to no end because you knew that he wouldn’t feel the same way. Charles had made it perfectly clear, without speaking, how he felt about you.

Stifling a groan, you rubbed a hand over your face, your frustration beginning to build to unhealthy levels.

“Something the matter [Y/N]? You’ve been sitting there an awfully long time.”

You jumped at the sound of someone’s voice and turned to see Hosea strolling towards you, a curious look on his face.

“I’m fine, Hosea.” You replied as he eased into a chair on the other side of the fire. “Just tired is all.”

“I may be old,” he started. “But not so that I can’t recognize when someone’s troubled. What’s bothering you my dear?”

You shifted your gaze from the fire to Hosea. He was leaning back in the chair, arms folded in his lap, with his eyes fixed on you. There was nothing but concern and a honest want to help you in them. He had always been like that. When you were struggling to learn the ways of the outlaw life, Hosea had been with you every step of the way. Making sure you knew the best hunting spots, helping you tend to your chores, and keeping your spirits up whenever you got discouraged. But, expressing your thoughts of Charles out loud? That was different. You didn’t know if you could.

“I don’t really know, if I’m bein’ honest.” You responded finally. “I’m just trying to sort out my feelings.”

And you were. Trying and failing, but you were trying. No matter how hard you tried you couldn’t convince yourself to forget.

“Your feelings for Charles?” He stated matter-of-factly.

You snapped your head up, heat beginning to rise in your face as you tried to stammer out a response.

“How did you know— I mean. I never said��”

Hosea chuckled and splayed his hands out in a calming gesture.

“Like I said. I may be old, but I still know a thing or two. And the way you look at the man when you think no one is paying attention? I’d say you were smitten.” He teased, winking at you.

You stared, dumbfounded and unsure of what to say. If Hosea knew, surely others in the camp knew. And if they knew, did that mean Charles knew as well? And if Charles knew then... No. You weren’t even going to consider the thought.

“You know what? I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.” You stated, pushing yourself off the log and heading towards your tent, refusing to look at Hosea anymore lest you get sucked into a full blown confession.

“You know,” He called after you. “It’ll just get worse the longer you keep it to yourself.”

You gave a half-hearted flick of you hand, the only indication that you had heard his words as you continued to walk through the camp.

——————————

The next morning proved to be no better. The minute you had opened your eyes, your thoughts immediately went to Charles. And Hosea’s advice. When you had finally settled into bed last night, you had pondered what he had said. Maybe it would be in your best interest to talk to him, but the fear of his first words to you being full of hate was too much, and you had drifted off late into the night.

Groaning, you pushed yourself to your feet, ready to distract yourself with the days work. You grabbed your hat from where it had fallen on the floor during sleep and stepped out of your tent. The morning sun shone through the campsite and the warmth felt good on your face. A cup of coffee sounded like a good way to start your day so you headed towards the communal pot; Abigail and Pearson already there with cups in hand.

“Morning [Y/N].” Pearson called out. “Any specific plans for your day yet?”

“Other then my daily chores? No.” You responded, pouring the dark liquid into your tin mug. “Why?”

“Well,” he began. “We’re getting low on food supplies and I can’t remember the last time anyone went hunting. Think you’re up for the task?”

“Sure,” you replied between sips. “I’ll head out right now.”

Pearson grunted his thanks and returned to his own mug. It felt good to finally have some sense of normalcy thrust upon you, so you were more than happy to comply. Nodding your head at Abigail, you finished your coffee; the warmth of the liquid reaching and energizing every part of your body before heading towards the horses.

Hunting hadn’t always been a skill that you particularly excelled at, but when you had expressed your unease with the chore during your first weeks with the gang, Hosea had wasted no time with setting up lessons with Arthur. Originally he would have asked Charles to do it, but every time he had mysteriously disappeared, leaving you wondering what accursed thing you had done to receive the cold shoulder. And hunting with Arthur wasn’t so bad. Of course, he was a little moody at times and his patience wasn’t always there, but you learned. You considered yourself to be quite the hunter nowadays.

Having now reached your horse, you ran your fingers through her mane and cooed soft encouragements before swinging yourself into the saddle. Grabbing the reins, you clicked your tongue and eased her towards he camp entrance.

“[Y/N], hold up!”

You brought your horse to a halt, startled, and turned in the saddle. You were surprised and a bit worried as Hosea sped up towards you, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

“Are you going out?” He inquired, an odd look that you couldn’t quite place etched on his face.

“Yes,” you replied hesitantly. “Pearson asked me to. Why?”

“Why don’t you take Charles with you, huh? He’s quite the hunter himself.” Without waiting for a reply he called out to Charles who was sharpening a knife. “Hey Charles! You up for some hunting? [Y/N], here could use some assistance.”

It was in that moment that your heart beat began to quicken; from anger and from nervousness at the thought of thee Charles Smith hunting with you. Alone. In the woods. With no one around for miles. Oh, would Hosea be getting an ear-full once you returned. Well, maybe you’d say if. The possibility of you running away forever from sheer embarrassment was entirely plausible.

“There now,” Hosea continued, clapping Charles on the shoulder with his hand. “I’m sure the two of you can scrounge up some food for the lot of us. And don’t come back until you do.”

You shot Hosea a burning look as he sauntered away, whistling a tune the whole while. Charles barely glanced at you as he pulled himself onto his own mount, Taima, and encouraged her towards the edge of camp. You followed suite without a word.

————————

You gripped the bow tightly in your hands, trying to rack your brain for anything to say as Charles walked beside you. The silence between the two of you was uncomfortable. At least, that’s how you felt about it, and, frankly, you couldn’t deal with the fact that the man you had pined for months over was finally capable of staying close to you. Deciding you’ve had enough, you lowered your weapon and turned to face him.

“Why do you hate me?”

“Excuse me?”

“Why do you hate me?” You repeated, crossing your arms.

Charles’ eyes widened as he took in your words, and a strange look crossed his face. You started to feel guilty as you waited for a response. You had come across as a bit rude. It wasn’t what you were going for, but the words just came out without any thought. But, now that you were in this predicament, you decided you were going to keep going.

“I don’t hate you,” Charles finally spoke.

“Well, then have I done something to upset you? I’ve been with the gang for months now and you’ve said all of six words to me.”

Another long moment of silence ensued. Finally deciding you’ve had enough, you tightened the grip on your bow and turned to leave, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. Before you could reach your horse, however, you felt a hand grasp your arm and you found yourself twisted around and a pair of lips locking with yours’. You tensed for barely a second as your mind tried to register what was happening. You were kissing Charles. Or, rather, he was kissing you. And it felt like you had always imagined it to be. When he broke away, you stared, dumbfounded.

“I don’t hate you, [Y/N],” He said, reaching out to take your hand his large calloused one. “I never have. In fact, it’s the opposite.”

“Charles,” You uttered, barely a whisper.

“Ever since the first day you stepped into camp, I knew there was something special about you. I was just too afraid to say anything.” Charles confessed. “I didn’t know how to say anything, because I didn’t know how you would feel.”

His dark eyes locked with yours and you could see the sincerity and fear swirling around in them. A small smile tugged at your lips. There was only one way you felt you could express your true feelings. You reached a hand up to cup his cheek and pulled him into another kiss.

Time seemed to stop. Your heart beat just as quick as you pressed your lips against his in a gentle fashion. His strong fingers brushed tentatively against the back of your neck while your own hand tangled amongst his dark locks. You placed your other hand against his chest and grasped at the loose fabric of his shirt, feeling a hunger your had never felt welling up inside you. Charles, sensing this, slipped a hand down to the small of your back and pulled you flush to him.

The kiss lasted for what felt like years before you finally pulled away, both of you breathing hard and a shine in his eyes that you no doubt mirrored.

“Do you know how I feel now?” You teased.

“Yes, I think so.” Charles chuckled, entwining his fingers with your own. You smiled warmly at him.

“Maybe we should get back to hunting then?” You inquired. “There’s a certain someone I need to have a chat with when we get back. And then, maybe we can have a chat of our own, hmm?”

Charles suppressed another laugh, placed a kiss on your cheek before resuming the hold on his own bow, and traipsed deeper into the woods. The memory of that kiss would reside in your mind as you finished the hunt and it would carry on until later in the evening when you and Charles had another moment alone.

[crossdressingdeath]

You know, as someone who is gay and has... more experience in abusive relationships than I ever wanted... hearing people talk about how unhealthy WangXian is upsetting. I know I can’t speak for everyone, but in my opinion WangXian is something more queer people need to see. And people calling it abusive when it isn’t is actually counterproductive when you think about it.

Like, I’ve had to play the guessing game of “Do my friends and family have a legit reason to be concerned, or are they secretly homophobic?”. Not a very fun game. You already have people online saying that gay relationships are sinful/toxic just by existing. Just seeing people misinterpret canonically gay couples as toxic/unhealthy just because the relationships isn’t perfect is going to make people not take actual claims on legitimate toxic/unhealthy fictional couples seriously.

I’ve seen so many people try to say that WangXian is either toxic or a stereotypical yaoi couple, and I just think “are we reading the same novel? what translation are you reading?”.

“Forced Gender Roles/Het Coding” – you mean how LWJ typically does more feminine chores, while WWX is more skilled/knowledgeable with traditionally masculine chore? Like in his dream, where LWJ is literally a housewife while his a busy husband?

“Stereotypical Seme/Uke dynamic” – not even mentioning the fact this isn’t yaoi (it’s danmei) and therefore, theydon’t really fit that genre, I really doubt it? Like, WWX is the one who decides nearly everything in the relationship. Regardless of what LWJ wants, he won’t push WWX into anything. In fact, WWX has to encourage LWJ to talk about what he wants/likes. Really, thinking about, WWX is kind of the one in charge.

LWJ might have WWX beat in terms of pure physical strength, but if you think LWJ could win in a fight without WWX letting him, then you clearly haven’t been paying attention. May I remind you, without golden core, WWX took on multiple armies? And the one that killed him only won because he let them. They technically didn’t even kill him! MXY’s body means WWX has a golden core now - he’s not as strong physically but he can work on that - he’s still stronger in every other aspect. It’s basically impossible for LWJ to overpower him.

“Rape/Noncon” - Where? There are two moments where LWJ crosses boundaries... but only one of those moments is an actual boundary crossed. Every other intimate moment that happens, LWJ makes certain that WWX is actually enjoying himself and consenting.

The infamous kiss. A lot of people misinterpret this as something the author threw in because it was “hot”. In actuality, this kiss is important for multiple reasons. While WWX isn’t upset by this kiss, LWJ clearly is. This moment is what causes LWJ to stop trying to force WWX to go back to CR with him – it’s this moment that makes him realize if he continues down this path, he will end up like his parents. This moment is the start of major character growth for LWJ, allowing him to become a better man, one that WWX can actually love wholeheartedly without any regrets. It’s this moment where he decides that he can’t just take little things from WWX anymore - he has to try a different approach to help him, and accept that WWX might never feel the same way (obviously he’s wrong). Like, the impact this has is huge, and it’s another reason why LWJ refuses to mention his feelings to WWX - he doesn’t want to force him ever again. So he won’t. Not even by having WWX agree to be with him out of graditude.

The other boundary crossed is when LWJ spanks WWX during sex. The narration makes it very clear at that moment that it’s not okay, that WWX is uncomfortable and doesn’t like it. And it stops, LWJ moves from it after some nudging from WWX. After the event, they have a serious talk where WWX makes it very clear that while he enjoys a lot of things, LWJ can’t do that ever again of he wants to continue being with WWX. LWJ could have argued, could have said that since they were under the influence of the incense burner, he shouldn’t be blamed for his actions. Instead, he swears never to do anything like that ever again.

This is so important! The message this sends is so important! This whole scene is saying that, no matter what kinks you might have or how kinky you are, your boundaries deserve to be respected. You don’t have to do something you’re uncomfortable with just because you’re kinky and your partner likes it. How can anyone read that and think it’s supporting rape?

Also... if I’m being honest... I actually thought CQL had a more stereotypical Seme/Uke dynamic than the novel. WWX is so much weaker and less observant/cunning... couple that with the fact the he’s not only not even a little guilty of his crimes but he’s actually made into a poor victim with lot of fainting into LWJ’s arms... yeah, he comes across much more like a uke than in the novel. LWJ is also so much more of a stereotypical overprotective seme too. Then there’s the whole thing lack of consent someone else mentioned, with how WWX forces LWJ to drink/how LWJ tricks WWX into marrying him (so he literally did the thing his father did that the fandom finds so unforgivable?). I like CQL, but a huge chunk of those fans are kind of obnoxious and toxic... and hypocritical I guess.

So, I just wanted to rant after seeing so many posts on this topic. I’m just really annoyed. I don’t even know if this makes any sense.

That is an excellent point re CQL. I’ve thought about how they weakened WWX and dumbed him down (presumably to make him more of a victim), but not how that affects his dynamic with LWJ. Also I do want to acknowledge that there is dubcon in the novel; the first time they have sex LWJ is drunk to start and we don’t know when exactly he sobered up. But like... that’s not exactly uncommon in romance novels. And the show has WWX forcing LWJ to get drunk against his will and LWJ marries WWX without his knowledge or consent, which... really isn’t better, especially as the novel does have discussion about how what they did was kind of a mess with consequences and them having to discuss it, which the show... doesn’t. In fact the novel takes consent as a far more important thing than the show does to the point of it being a central theme that the show lacks.

Yeah, I have to say that people insisting that Wangxian (specifically novel Wangxian) is super unhealthy feels like the double whammy of “Ewwwwww gay people who aren’t unrealistically perfect” and “Ewwwwwwwww a woman writing gay romance”. I mean, I seriously doubt that if one of them was a girl and/or the story was written by a dude and nothing else changed people would react anywhere near as vehemently towards it. Like... it seems interesting that the version people are insisting is healthier is the censored idol drama where they aren’t actually in a relationship and the people in charge mostly seem to be men, that’s all I’m saying.

[ibijau]

part 6 of the Nomad Nie AU // On AO3

Huaisang has a fun idea to spend time together

warning for implied animal death (they go hunting, but I don't detail the process) and for some fairly mild violence due to an argument in the later part of the chapter

One of the advantages of having his own horse, Lan Xichen found, was that he was now excused from some of his previous chores so that he could ride Shuoyue. It was apparently quite shameful for someone so closely linked to the Khan to be a poor rider, and though he did well enough by Han standards, among the Nie his capacity was regarded as lower than that of children. At least, so Huaisang said as he made him ride around the campement day after day, giving advice about his posture and coming up with exercises to challenge him. Most days, Lan Xichen was more tired and aching than when he’d been set to care for the cattle, and he complained a few times that his husband was really too demanding.

On the whole though, he didn’t really mind. He enjoyed riding Shuoyue, either alone or with Huaisang at his side, as long as they stayed close to the campement. So far they hadn’t yet been allowed to ride further away together, which seemed to annoy Huaisang more and more as weeks passed, and sparked a few arguments with his brother. 

Lan Xichen too was starting to feel a little frustrated. He understood some of the Khan’s concerns, of course. Huaisang was a little clumsy, the sort of person to get bruised all the time and never quite know how it happened. Worse still, his bruises always took very long to fade away, which made them seem worse than they were. He seemed to realise that, and often tried to hide new bruises from his brother, but Mingjue always found out and scolded him for being careless. This, combined with the fact that Huaisang apparently didn’t know how to fight and could barely hold a sabre, made it hard for the Khan to let him out of his sight… but still, Lan Xichen wished that Mingjue would stop being so overprotective.

Thankfully, if Nie Huaisang wasn’t allowed to ride freely, Meng Yao was not subjected to such limitations. He offered to have long distance races a few times with Lan Xichen, and while he easily won at first, after a month or two, Lan Xichen finally had his first victory one late summer afternoon.

Thrilled by that accomplishment, Huaisang ran into his husband’s arms to congratulate him. Lan Xichen, still burning from the thrill of the race, pulled him closer and nearly kissed him on the spot. The only reason he didn’t was that there were too many people around who had come to see the result of that race between two foreigners. Even just a hug as tight as that one felt bold to Lan Xichen’s sensitivities, but he couldn’t quite make himself let go, not until Meng Yao joined them and frowned ever so slightly upon seeing them like this. Embarrassed by his own improper conduct, Lan Xichen tore himself from his husband and went to thank Meng Yao for racing with him.

“The pleasure was all mine,” Meng Yao replied gracefully. “But I fear Lan gongzi is fast becoming too skilled for me, especially with such a horse. Huaisang chose a good mount for his husband. Wasn’t it going to be a racing one?”

“Horse is too gentle,” Huaisang explained as he joined them. “Not good for real race, very good for Zichen.”

“I am very pleased with it,” Lan Xichen confirmed, which made his husband smile. “I suppose I should go take care of it now, I don’t want it to get unwell after it did so well.”

Meng Yao agreed with this, since his own horse too was tired and drenched with sweat, and Huaisang of course followed them, always eager to help Lan Xichen. They made sure that the horses had water and food after their effort, and dried them while continuing to chat.

“Oh, Huaisang, I wanted to tell you that I think I spotted a hawk’s nest out there,” Meng Yao announced, rubbing his horse’s flank. “I thought it might interest you to go… ah!” Meng Yao paused, and briefly pressed a hand to his mouth. “Well, or at least to send someone there, and see if there’s a fledgling in there that might be of use. It’s a little late in the season, but you never know, right?”

Huaisang, whose face had brightened at the mention of the nest, nodded sadly.

“I’m so sorry,” Meng Yao sighed, patting the young man’s shoulder. “I forgot… it has been a while since you’ve gone hunting, hasn’t it? Maybe if you asked your brother… he knows how much you enjoy it, I’m sure he could make time. And perhaps you might take Lan gongzi with you?”

“I’m not too sure,” Lan Xichen protested, mildly sick at the idea of killing animals. He’d gotten used to eating meat, but the killing part still troubled him, and he’d had to excuse himself from helping with that so far. “I’m a little…”

“Oh but Huaisang is so good with a hawk!” Meng Yao cut him. “It’s a shame you haven’t seen him do it, it’s like the bird and him are of one mind. I'm sure Lan gongzi would be very impressed, if only he could see it! Really, it’s too bad that Khan Mingjue is so strict, and so busy as well. Well, perhaps in a few months, when he trusts you enough, he might allow for the two of you to go together. Don’t you agree, Huaisang?”

Huaisang nodded, a pout on his lips. Lan Xichen’s eyes lingered a little too long on that pout.

“Well, I’m sure I’d like to see more of my husband’s skill,” he said, forcing himself to look away before anyone could notice that he’d been staring. “It really would be lovely, even if your brother had to come with us.”

“Better fun alone,” Huaisang grumbled, crossing his arm on his chest. “Maybe I ask brother. We go not far, not dangerous for just us. Zichen wants?”

“As long as your brother agrees, I’d love that.”

Huaisang smiled brightly at that, and started chatting in a mix of Hanyu and Nie language about how extraordinary hawks were, and how much he loved them. Meng Yao and Lan Xichen politely listened at first, but before long they were gently teasing him about whether he loved horses or birds more, a difficult question he ended up being entirely unable to answer.

-

It was still dark all around when Lan Xichen opened his eyes the next morning, shaken awake by his husband. It was far too early for his tastes, but when Lan Xichen tried to protest, Huaisang pressed a hand against his mouth to silence him.

“Brother sleep,” he whispered. “Not wake. Last night, brother say, allowed to go hunt. You want?”

Lan Xichen sleepily blinked at his husband. It took a moment for his brain to catch on and remember the previous day. Hunting was something that had been discussed, he vaguely thought, and Huaisang had said he’d ask his brother, but Lan Xichen had fallen asleep very early and hadn’t been there for that conversation.

Lan Xichen pushed away the hand covering his mouth and yawned.

“Does it have to be that early?” he mumbled, careful to keep his voice low.

“Sunrise is good for hunt rabbits,” Huaisang explained. “We ride to good place, we hunt at good time. You want?”

It was really too early for Lan Xichen who normally rose with the sun, not before it. Since Huaisang was the more awake between them, it lended an air of wisdom and good sense to anything he said. Yawning again, Lan Xichen numbly nodded and sat up to look around. On the other side of the ger, Khan Mingjue was still sleeping soundly (Lan Xichen half envied him), and aside from the fire at the center, there seemed to be no light at all at this hour.

It took Lan Xichen some help from Huaisang to get ready for the day and leave the ger without stumbling upon anything. Their horses, thankfully, had already been prepared, as well as a large bird whose eyes were currently covered. Lan Xichen was no expert on the matter, and he was still not fully awake, but it seemed to him that this might be an eagle of some sorts rather than a hawk. He’d known already that the Nie used different types of birds for hunting, but he’d expected that Huaisang would favour smaller birds, instead of something that was nearly half his size. He didn’t question it though. Huaisang seemed perfectly at ease with the animal, and Lan Xichen sleepily trusted him.

They left the campement, as quickly and silently as they could, and rode east. By the time Lan Xichen started to feel awake enough that he might have questioned what was happening, the first lights of dawn were peeking out on the horizon, colouring the plains around them with delicate colours contrasted by dark shadows, making for a beautiful sight that Lan Xichen would have wished to paint if this had been his old life. The tender light also illuminated Huaisang’s face, his smile radiant with joy now that he could ride his beloved horse for more than a run around their home. 

That joy only rose higher when they reached a good hunting spot, though it was quickly replaced by deep concentration as Huaisang worked with his bird to catch a number of rabbits.

Although Huaisang offered to let him try handling the bird, Lan Xichen was happy just watching his husband in his element. It was obvious that Huaisang truly loved hunting in that manner, just as he loved getting to really ride his horse, and Lan Xichen’s heart felt too big for his chest as he watched his husband be so happy. It really was a shame that he didn’t get to do this more often. Lan Xichen, not for the first time, wished that Khan Mingjue would act a little less overprotective. It made him wonder if he could perhaps ask to be trained in swordsmanship and mounted archery. If Huaisang really had little skill in those areas, as seemed to be the problem, then Lan Xichen was willing to learn to protect his husband, so that Huaisang wouldn’t have to be stuck inside the ger all day long.

When he had caught enough rabbits, Huaisang decided it was time to stop. He fed his bird some meat from one of their preys, praising it heavily for its excellent work. Then, showing how well this little expedition had been planned, he took out from a bad on his horse some aaruul to snack on, as well as some kefir so Lan Xichen and him could also have breakfast. They sat together in the grass and ate, quietly at first, then while chatting about Huaisang’s bird, and falconry in general, before moving on to compare hunting techniques from the respective traditions. The conversation was a mix of Hanyu and Nie language, something which used to give Lan Xichen headaches but now felt almost natural.

It felt natural, also, to sit so close to each other, their knees and elbows touching every time they moved. If those touches started accidentally, soon enough Lan Xichen put more intention into it, giving himself excuses to brush his hand against Huaisang’s, pressing their shoulders together.

For the first time since they’d met, they were completely alone? Lan Xichen found it impossibly tempting to lean closer and kiss his husband. Nie Huaisang was staring at him with burning eyes, barely daring to breathe, his lips slightly parted. Lan Xichen stared at that too pretty mouth, not quite bold enough to take the first step, even though he had no doubt they both wanted this. He thought for a moment that Huaisang might be braver than him, but his husband didn’t move, having promised he wouldn’t make any demands of Lan Xichen. That, more than anything, finished to convince Lan Xichen. He leaned forward, and…

Near them, the horses neighed nervously, startling both young men and making Lan Xichen move away. Huaisang, his face flushed a bright red, jumped to his feet and went to check on the animals. Almost immediately he let out a string of swear words.

“Wolves,” he announced, pointing at something moving in the distance. “Maybe they smell the rabbits. We go home, dangerous here.”

Lan Xichen, whose heart was still beating too fast, agreed to that decision. He’d never seen wolves up close yet, and wasn’t interested in the experience. They’d been out for more than half of the day anyway, it was more than time to go home.

The ride home felt very short, but that might have been because Lan Xichen was immensely distracted. He’d lost his chance out there, but his mind was made up now. As soon as they were alone, as soon as another chance presented itself, he would kiss his husband. They were married, it was stupid to feel so shy about it, wasn’t it?

When they reached the campement though, all thoughts of kissing left his mind when they found the whole place in prey to great agitation. People started shouting when they spotted the couple, and a small crowd came to meet with them, led by Mingjue whose face was dark with anger.

“Get off that horse!” the Khan ordered his brother. “Or I’ll make you.”

After the briefest of hesitations, Huaisang obeyed. Although it had not been asked of him, Lan Xichen promptly did the same.

“Take those horses, tie them somewhere,” Mingjue barked at the people behind him. “Neither of them can go riding again until I say so. What were you thinking, Huaisang?” He snapped, turning back to his brother and grabbing him by the arm. “Disappearing without even telling anyone? At your age?”

“At my age, why should I still tell you everything I do?” Huaisang retorted.

“You know exactly why! Your age doesn’t change anything, when I give an order, you obey it. I don’t care if you’re trying to impress that stupid husband of yours. I’m your Khan, and you have to do what I say, or I swear I’m making you divorce him and I’ll send him back to his people. Do you hear me?”

“You can’t do that!” Huaisang exploded, fighting against his brother's hold. “He’s my husband, you can’t decide that for me! You can’t decide anything for me, I’m of age, I’m allowed to do what I want! I swear, if you send him away, I’ll go as well, and…”

“Then I’ll just kill him!” Mingjue threatened. “I’m done with you picking up strays and getting in trouble because of them!”

Huaisang gasped in horror and tried harder to escape his brother’s grasp, throwing worried glances at Lan Xichen. His struggles were in vain: Mingjue only had to tighten his grip and Huaisang cried out in pain, his legs buckling under him. Lan Xichen, too shocked to move before, desperately reached for Mingjue’s wrist to make him let go.

“My fault!” he cried out. “My idea, my fault. Don’t hurt Huaisang, my fault!”

“Hurt Huaisang?” Mingjue barked, before looking down at his brother, his face awash with tears. His grip on Huaisang immediately relaxed and his rage turned to worry, though he still did not let go of his brother. “Huaisang, are you…”

“I hate you,” Huaisang hissed, kicking his brother's shin. “I hate you! Let me go!”

Just as quickly as it had gone, Mingjue’s temper returned when his brother tried again to break free. Apparently tired of having an audience for this argument, Mingjue pulled his brother toward their ger, the crowd of their clan opening to let them pass through. Lan Xichen rushed after them, worried for his husband, but Meng Yao caught him and tried to stop him.

“Lan gongzi, the Khan just threatened to kill  you!” Meng Yao urgently whispered. “You should stay with me for the night. He might have calmed down by morning, but to go after them now would be…”

“I’m not abandoning Huaisang now,” Lan Xichen retorted, pushing his friend out of the way to run after his husband, terrified of the Khan's anger.

He managed to enter the ger just after Huaisang, who was sitting on the floor, and Mingjue, who shot him a dirty look for this intrusion. Lan Xichen shivered but glared right back at him, challenging the Khan to make him leave. When Mingjue said nothing, Lan Xichen went to kneel next to his husband, still glaring at his brother-in-law, and wrapped one arm around Huaisang’s shoulders.

“I meant what I said,” Mingjue barked. “Put my brother in danger again, and it’ll be the last thing you do.”

“Hurt my husband again, and I’ll make you regret it as well,” Lan Xichen replied, somehow managing to sound calm even when he knew how empty that threat was.

Mingjue too knew that, of course, and made an impatient gesture. The worst of his anger seemed over though, and his face took on a pained expression when he looked at Huaisang, sitting on the floor and cradling his arm. Mingjue took a step forward, then changed his mind and exited the ger without a word.

As soon as they were alone, Lan Xichen let out a shaky breath and dropped his head against his husband’s shoulder.

“Huaisang, are you…”

“I’m fine,” Huaisang sniffled, gathering his knees against his chest. “He didn’t mean to, he was just worried. I knew he’d be angry, but I wanted to have fun with you. And we had fun, right? So it was fine, it was worth it.”

“I can help?” Lan Xichen asked.

Huaisang huffed and shook his head.

“It’s just like that. Mingjue is right. I was stupid.” He sighed. “I’m tired of being a useless baby.”

“You’re not a baby,” Lan Xichen objected and, to prove it, he kissed his husband.

Huaisang, at first, was too startled to react. Quickly enough he recovered from his surprise and threw his arms around Lan Xichen’s neck to pull him closer, shuffling his legs to get them under him so they wouldn’t get in the way. Lan Xichen wasn’t sure what to do with his own hands. He settled at first for cupping Huaisang’s cheeks, then dropped them on his shoulders, before eventually wrapping them around his husband’s waist where they stayed, clenched tight in the fabric of his husband’s deel. It felt much nicer than in Lan Xichen’s memories, especially when Huaisang hungrily licked into his mouth, sending heat coursing through his body. It was good, so good, and Lan Xichen felt stupid for not trying this sooner, for letting something as inconsequential as shame and shyness stop him all this time. If he’d only known…

“Do you mind?” Mingjue grumbled, coming into the ger with a bowl in his hand.

Startled by his return, Huaisang and Lan Xichen quickly separated. Lan Xichen nearly fell on his side in his haste to move away, and felt his face burn at having been caught like this. Huaisang, slightly less embarrassed, simply glared at his brother who didn’t appear impressed in the least.

“How is your arm?” Mingjue asked, coming closer.

Huaisang shrugged despondently, looking away with a pout.

“You know why I’m like that,” Mingjue said, before dropping the bowl on his brother’s lap, a type of soup Huaisang was particularly fond of. “Zonghui’s wife made this. Eat it and go to sleep. We’ll talk later, Huaisang” he added with an annoyed glance toward Lan Xichen.

Huaisang shrugged again, but said nothing. Instead he pointedly shared the soup with Lan Xichen, who hadn’t been brought any dinner. Mingjue rolled his eyes at that small rebellion but let it glide, looking too exhausted to start another fight so soon.

[grimmjowkurosakidrake]

Can’t stay the same

Summary: Part five of my Time travel fic: The end is were we begin

Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Sasuke

Lenght: 2,024 Words

Quick disclaimer: This chapter was commissioned by the always great @birkastan2018​ who actually helped me with my grammar and spelling in the fic!

 @witcheswritings​ !

Feel free to DM Aquelarre if you want to commission a fic even if it’s not Naruto related

Previous

Sakura being trained by Itachi and Shisui feels wrong.

But Sasuke can’t deny that she’s getting stronger. Her stamina has increased under his cousin’s merciless training regime, and even her prior, almost inexistent tolerance to pain has developed in a way he could have only dreamed of under his (or even Kakashi’s) tutelage. 

Their sensei had always been far too soft on her; always hesitant to really push her because he was afraid that she’d get hurt.

Naruto and Sasuke always went along with the idea that they could protect their female teammate no matter what happened.

And they could, they were strong back then and Sasuke is sure they will become even stronger in the future.

But that was not the point then and it isn’t the point now.

Sakura is a shinobi, a kunoichi. If she at some point wanted to be the sort of person that needed to be saved or protected, she would’ve stayed a civilian. She wasn’t obligated in any way to continue her life as a Shinobi, Sakura didn’t have any ties to the shinobi world in the sense that she didn’t come from any clan.

She chose the life of a kunoichi.

It took years for him and Naruto to understand this, and allow her to bloom in her own right.

Kakashi is another story entirely. Sasuke could never understand the man, even as an adult the roots of his teacher’s trauma were always a mystery to him.

Maybe he just didn’t know how to train a girl. Or he probably didn’t even know how to train anyone if the rumours of him never taking on a team were true.

Maybe he simply wasn’t interested in training a young civilian girl with no foundation other than the academy’s sloppy teaching methods. Especially when he had the only survivor of the Uchiha massacre and the Kyuubi’s vessel to deal with.

Maybe she reminded him too much of Rin, his first teammate. A girl that was said to be bright and sunny; always happy and ready to help her team in whatever way she could.

A girl eternally in love with her cold teammate Kakashi, even though their loving and kind third teammate would have given her the sun and the stars if she so desired.

Whatever the reasons behind Kakashi’s negligence of Sakura, the truth was she could have never truly bloomed as a kunoichi under the care of their team.

It wasn’t until he left the village, Naruto followed Jiraiya to advance his own training, and Kakashi completely disappeared from her life until Naruto’s return, that she finally set out on her own path as a ninja.

Now she trains her stamina and speed with Shisui every other morning. She wakes up at dawn on the days she meets with his cousin to challenge her body to the brink. Shisui has her running endless laps and sparring with him, and even though she has no hope of pinning him in her current state - Sakura keeps going. Sasuke even found her carrying Naruto on her back as a way to build up her strength.

Or so, Shisui said with a smirk dancing on his mouth.

In addition to her training with Shisui, Sakura joins her team on small missions and sometimes works one-on-one with Kakashi, who has started to take a more serious approach to her development.

Maybe he is being possessive of his “cute little genin” as he likes to call them, or maybe he’s finally realized that he can’t just ignore one of his students.

Sasuke doesn’t really care about his reasons. The important thing is that his team is acquiring the tools they need to defend themselves, to survive, and to hopefully beat the odds they will face in the future.

Someday, he will take more time to consider Kakashi, the man who passed down his most powerful jutsu to him... just as his own father taught him their clan’s signature giant fireball.

But for now, with his brother safe and actually happy beside him everyday, Naruto and Sakura are his only worry. They are his most precious people; warm sources of light in his otherwise dark life.

Sakura also trains with Itachi when he has the time, but she doesn’t seem very keen on sharing what they work on.

“We’re trying to find her strengths,” shares his brother one night after Sakura leaves their house, refusing both his and Itachi’s offers to scort her home. “Something to make her stand out, like Naruto-kun’s Multiple Shadow Clone Technique or even our own Sharingan.”

Like her enhanced strength or her excellent chakra control.

“And have you found anything?” Asks the black haired boy, eager for results, “Her chakra control is excellent and I think she has an affinity for water.” he supplies, trying to sound nonchalant, but if his brother’s smirk is anything to go by, he’s not doing a great job of it.

Itachi shakes his head with a grimace. “Even thought her chakra control is better than average, her actual reserves are not nearly enough for her to sustain any form of actually damaging attack.”

Admittedly, Itachi was never really a teacher to begin with. He was a prodigy to his very core, and the only actual experience he ever had at teaching was with Sasuke (another prodigy) and Naruto, the host of the nine tailed beast.

“But there has to be something!” Sasuke recalls his wife’s monstrous strength, her unparalleled medical jutsu, her strength of a hundred seal... Sakura has so much potential.

“We are working on genjutsu at the moment,” concedes Itachi, black eyes looking at the koi pond their mother used to take care of before her banishment with the rest of the Uchiha traitors. Now, only Sasuke has time to spare for such things. “Not enough for her to be at an Uchiha’s, or even a Yuhi’s level. Just sufficient for her to break through one, or create a distraction for up to a minute tops.”

“That’s…” Mumbles Sasuke.

That’s not enough.

She’s stronger than she was at this point back in his original timeline, and she’ll probably be able to defend herself against the sound ninja better than she did last time. But her confidence is just as low as it was weeks ago. She still thinks she’s weak, and she still hesitates before every punch she throws at training.

She needs Tsunade, Sasuke finally realises.

There’s no way Itachi or Shisui can offer her the confidence or the tools that the slug princess passed onto Sakura as if she was her entire legacy.

Of course, for Sakura’s sake, Sasuke will make sure that the woman comes back.

But at the moment, there’s nothing he can do to force the sannin’s return to the village. 

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

Today, Sasuke wakes up later than usual. He has a mission at noon, sharp. But he knows that Kakashi will take a four hours long detour to visit his dead teammates, so he’s not worried about it.

He arrives at their meeting point, a quarter after one in the afternoon where a restless Sakura and smug Naruto are waiting for him.

Sakura is leaning against a tree, looking at him with clear disappointment. But she’s not bold enough to voice her thoughts.

Naruto on the other hand, would never miss an opportunity to scold Sasuke “Sasuke!” He screams running from his place at Sakura’s feet to stop right in front Sasuke’s face. “You’re late!” Accuses the blond pointing a finger at him.

Of course, Sasuke is unfazed. “Is Kakashi here?” He asks in his usual bored tone, his dark eyes boring into Sakura.

She blushes at his stare and breaks eye contact before answering. “No,” she sighs, letting her body fall to a sitting position on the grass. She tucks her knees under her chin and hugs her shins with her delicate arms.

Watching the boys growl and snap at each other like a pair of two misbehaving little puppies, she probably wishes her teacher will arrive anytime soon.

When Kakashi finally arrives is not particularly relevant, they end up doing some chores for people around the village. Memorably, Sakura manages to lift an entire barrel of beer for the owner of a bar down the street from Naruto’s apartment.

And when all of their work is done, she carries Naruto on her back as he complains about their day, even though he was the one who asked Kakashi for harder missions.

Sasuke can’t say that he would like to be carried by a girl like this but he doesn’t like seeing Naruto taking advantage of Sakura’s kindness.

“This is because you pushed yourself too much,” complains Sakura as Naruto groans once again from the pain.

“You can’t even take care of yourself?” Snipes Sasuke, grumbling from behind the pair as Kakashi ruffles his hair affectionately.

Immediately, Naruto hops from Sakura’s back and tries to fight off Sasuke. The girl, of course, doesn’t allow it and hold the blond by his right arm.

“Do you have to do this every single time?” She struggles to pull Naruto back. “You’re supposed to be friends,” she snaps, clearly annoyed.

It’s true, Sasuke thinks. They are friends, and nothing can break their bond. But Naruto is still a child, and Sasuke is supposed to be one as well.

“Your teamwork seems to be suffering lately,” quips Kakashi.

“It’s Sasuke’s fault,” accuses Naruto, “always showing off and acting like he’s better than us,” he complains.

Sasuke smirks. “Become stronger than me, then,” he challenges the blond, “if you want to stop me from making you look bad.”

This time around, is Naruto’s turn to smile at him, clearly pleased with his words.

Kakashi sighs, finally looking up at them from his book. “Ok, that’s it for today,” he declares. “I have to fill out our reports, anyway.”

No one complains as their teacher leaves them. They’re already used to Kakashi disappearing on them to fill out reports or attend meetings with the Hokage or other Jounin.

“We should train some more,” offers Sasuke, already walking in the direction of their usual training grounds.

Naruto and Sakura are obviously unexcited about this. They’re already tired from their morning training and the missions they completed that afternoon. But neither of them have the heart to deny Sasuke.  They know he’s right.

“Yeah,” sighs Sakura hesitantly trailing after the black haired boy “more training will do us some good.”

Naruto, never one to deny an opportunity to train, follows them promptly. “Of course!” He smiles, “Sakura-chan and I should fight Sasuke!” Exclaims the blond planting his right hand of her shoulder in a friendly manner. “I’m sure we can take him.”

Sakura, for the first time in a long time, ever since he left his wife back in his timeline, smiles confidently. “That could be fun,” she smirks. “I’m sure Sasuke-kun is up for the challenge.”

“I’ll tell you what.” Sasuke smirks, stops in the middle of the street and looks squarely at his teammates. “Loser pays for lunch.”

Sakura and Naruto grin at each other, ready to fight him as soon as they reach their designated training area.

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

Sadly, just like last time, they are distracted by the Hokage’s grandson and his little friends as the children try to rope them into one of their games.

Ninja playing ninja sounds ludicrous, but Sasuke knows this is exactly what they’re doing. Just a group of kids pretending to be adults.

As he senses the sand sibling’s chakra getting closer, with each signature more menacing and powerful than the one before - he realizes that they were never ready for this encounter. Up until this point, they were never anything more than children playing ninja.

They thought they’d already experienced the worst the shinobi world had to offer, but...

They couldn’t have been more wrong. They didn’t know it then, but even people like Gaara were nothing compared to the dangers that awaited them in the future.

As these Suna chakra signatures become stronger, Sasuke makes sure to stand protectively in front of his teammates when they finally come face to face with Temari and Kankuro.

Gaara’s bloodthirsty presence hides above them. I hope you like this chapter and I specially hope @birkastan2018 likes it!!!

[franklyshipping]

Practice Makes Perfect ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic

HERE WE HAVE ANOTHER WONDERFUL ANON PROMPT THAT INCLUDES ONE OF MY FAVE HEROES EVER AND SOMEONE THAT I HAVEN’T WRITTEN IN A WHILE! LET’S DO THIS!

TAGGING: @silvlee-shepherd 

Harold B. Darrensworth liked to think he was in the know about a great many things. Colour co-ordination, how to be punctual without fail, how to hoover and dust correctly, and especially when it came to the laws of the land. However, there were still so many things that he wanted to know and understand, especially now that he lived with this strange myriad of a community wherein half of the people had the same face that he did. They were a very social bunch, and slowly but surely Harold was trying to be social too, and there was one particular activity that bonded this community more than anything else. Tickling.

Now unfortunately, Harold didn’t have much experience when it came to social cues and experiences and the like, tickling included, and he desperately wanted to learn about these things! Mainly, he wanted to learn how to tickle someone properly so he could partake in making his fellow egos happy….as well as to maybe persuade them to do a few extra chores around the manor. So Harold had decided to seek out someone who he figured would be an expert, someone who had been on the receiving end of every single tickler in the household. The great hero himself, Silver Shepherd. Harold decided to head to the hero’s room first, and luckily the hero was in, lying on his bed and just relaxing his day away. Harold took a light breath, before knocking on the door.

‘A-Ahem, Silver? It’s Harold, might I come in?’

Silver sat up with a smile, and called out.

‘Yeah of course! What’s up bud?’

Harold smiled at how jovial Silver was as he entered and shut the door behind him, and he beamed gratefully when Silver patted the bed, inviting him to sit. Harold sat by him as he replied.

‘I am very well….but I am in need of some help with something, and I think that you may be the only person who can assist me.’

Silver’s eyes widened in curiosity, and he immediately perked up, giving Harold his full attention. Whenever anyone needed help, they always became Silver’s top priority.

‘Of course, what can I help with? Whatever it is I’ll do my very best to do whatever I can!’

Harold smiled, because Silver never ceased to be the most selfless person in the room. Harold took a breath, before replying.

‘I require help….with tickling.’

Silver’s face went a little bit pink from hearing that ah….word, but he tried to keep his cool as he cleared his throat.

‘Uh ti-….t-tickling?’

Harold nodded, and cleared his throat as he elaborated.

‘Yes, tickling. It has become incredibly clear to me that tickling is the most prominent social interaction that we, the egos, tend to be involved in with one another. Now, I know that I do enjoy it, but I have very little experience when it comes to actually administering tickling on somebody else. I want to learn how I can tickle properly so that I may interact with people more, since even though practically everyone is a disorganised, lawless mess, I do enjoy everybody very much.’

Silver’s expression softened a he listened, and he almost felt ready to cry at how Harold wanted to put so much effort into interacting with people properly and being more social, because he knows how daunting that can be for someone who hasn’t been used to people for a long time. Silver beamed at him encouragingly, because he so badly wanted to help.

‘That’s such a sweet goal, and I really want to help! What is it that you’d like me to do?’

Now, Silver was expecting Harold to ask him to perhaps tickle him and show him different tickling techniques….but Silver’s blush ended up darkening when Harold replied with his suggestion.

‘Well, logically if I am to be an adept tickler I must practise on somebody. This person must be incredibly ticklish, enjoy being tickled, and have had experience receiving tickling from every potential other tickler in the household. You, Silver, are by far the most tickled ego by my calculations, so I can think of no-one better to hone my skills upon! I believe you will be able to properly advise me on my techniques and warn me against doing anything that is accidentally inappropriate or not part of tickling etiquette. Will you help me by letting me tickle you?’

Harold was looking at Silver hopefully, fidgeting with his shirt sleeves as he watched Silver gape and descend into thought. Well, in truth Silver was trying to just process all his flustered feelings that had arisen from the unintentional teasy things that Harold had said to him. Of course though, Silver was certainly not going to say no to being tickled, especially since it was for such a good cause! So, after a few moments, Silver smiled bashfully and nodded, and tried (and failed) to keep his stammers at bay.

‘W-Wehell I-….I-I’d l-love to help…..o-of course you can t-….tickle me Harold.’

Harold gasped, and practically started wriggling with elation as he replied in a frantic, excited manner.

‘Oh-thank you! Thank you so much! You won’t regret this! Ah, how do we begin, can we begin now?!’

Silver giggled endearingly at Harold’s cute excitement, before replying with an excited smile of his own.

‘Yeheah yeah we can, o-okay so uhm….I-I’m going to lie down, a-and you should probably just sit on my legs so uhm….s-so you have a good vantage point….’

‘Okay!’

Harold eagerly replied, and waited for Silver to lie back down properly before he took off his shoes and then carefully perched himself on top of Silver’s thighs. Harold got himself settled, before looking down at Silver brightly.

‘Is this comfortable for you Silver?’

Silver smiled and nodded up at him.

‘Yeah, yeah it’s good. Also that’s really good of you, asking after my wellbeing, that’s a-always really important.’

Harold beamed at the fact that he’d already done something right, and made a mental note of the factor, before Silver continued.

‘But the uh, the most important thing is actually knowing when to stop, so that the whole thing stays fun and perfect. So, generally the person being uh….t-tickled will choose a special word. A short word that, i-if they say it, is the point blank sign to stop, no matter what. B-Because a lot of the time t-ticklees will say the word “stop” r-reflexively, without a-actually meaning it.’

Harold happily nodded along, taking in all the new information with great interest and care, since he was so eager to learn.

‘That makes excellent sense, prioritising safety in the situation, I like that very much! What is your special stop word?’

‘Mine is Red.’

Silver replied with a giddy smile as Harold nodded, before Harold started rolling up his sleeves.

‘Red, noted! So is there a certain place I should begin at, or may I start to tickle at any place I choose? Also, are there any places that you do not wish me to touch? Aside from obvious intimate areas of course.’

Silver replied with a bright giggle.

‘Yohou can start wherever y-you want uhm….there’s nowhere that makes me uncomfortable a-as such but ah, i-if you decide to g-go near my navel y-you need to be extra c-careful. If you’re t-too rough then i-it can be really unpleasant.’

Harold smiled in understanding, he understood very well that some tickle spots can be so hyper-sensitive that anything other than a feather touch can be horrible. He replied in a caring voice.

‘Since I am as of yet inexperienced I shall avoid your bellybutton, so there is no chance of me making you uncomfortable. Okay….hmm…..where to start where to start….’

Harold spoke reassuringly, before trailing off with a murmur, and Silver now started to squirm as Harold’s analytical eyes gently flicked over his body. Harold took a good few moments to think, just because there were so many potential tickle spots on the human body that it was very hard to pick where to start! Then though, Harold decided on a simple methodology, and smiled and clapped his hands.

‘Alright, I shall simply start from the top and work my way down!’

Silver let out a gasp when Harold then reached for him, and started stroking up and down the sides of his neck experimentally with his fingertips. Of course, with Silver being Silver, he started to giggle immediately.

‘O-Ohohoho my g-gohohosh….’

Harold beamed at Silver’s reaction, his eyes lighting up at the fact that he’d already made Silver giggle and they’d barely freaking begun the tickling!

‘My goodness, you’re already giggling! So you’re ticklish here?’

Silver nodded, nibbling his lip bashfully as he replied.

‘Y-Yehehes I-I ahaham….’

Harold kept up the gentle tickling at the sides of Silver’s neck, and cocked his head down at the hero as he commented happily.

‘Your giggles are very sweet Silver, I can see why the others tickle you so often!’

Silver squeaked with flustered embarrassment and spluttered cutely.

‘H-Hehehey d-dohon’t tehease mehe!’

Then, in a similarly cute fashion, Harold furrowed his eyebrows in confusion down at Silver.

‘Tease you? I didn’t mean to tease you, I only meant to compliment you.’

And for Silver, that made it even worse, knowing that Harold hadn’t even been trying to tease him. Silver scrunched his neck as he whined through his giggling.

‘C-Cohohomplimehents lihike that ahare teheheasy!’

Harold blinked in surprise at this revelation, but knew that teasing and tickling very much came hand in hand, and therefore that teasing was a good thing! He smiled and had mercy on Silver’s neck, before replying matter-of-factly.

‘In that case, I shall tell you some more! Did you know Silver, that you have incredibly endearing dimples when you smile?’

Silver yipped in surprise, and hurriedly hid his face in his hands, grinning as he stuttered.

‘H-Harold sh-shuhush!’

‘I most certainly will not! Did you also know that the way you blush so fast is incredibly cute and unique?’

Silver then started whining incoherently into his hands, which made Harold gently laugh. Harold found that he was enjoying teasing Silver just as much as he enjoyed tickling him, using his words to fluster him so much was incredibly enjoyable, which meant he continued to eagerly croon.

‘And I especially think it’s sweet how your tummy twitches when you laugh.’

Harold poked Silver’s tummy gently as a way of emphasising his point, which ended up making the hero yelp. Harold noticed of course, and grinned at his discovery of the new tickle spot….and decided that it would be the next perfect place to continue honing his skills.

‘In fact, I think I’ll tickle this tummy of yours!’

He stated brightly, making Silver hold his breath in giddy nervousness, before he let it out in a splutter as the hero descended into loud, airy laughter. Harold had started experimentally skittering over and poking Silver’s tummy, and by his mirth Harold surmised that the hero was incredibly ticklish there.

‘OHOHO MY GAHAHAD HAHAROLD!’

Harold chuckled gently at Silver’s exclamation, keeping up the tickling as he replied.

‘You seem much more ticklish here than you were at your neck, is my analysis correct?’

‘Y-YEHEHES-OHO FRIHIHICK!’

Harold giggled in amusement, especially when Silver’s hands started to flap about, and Harold commented on it playfully as he kept up the tummy tickling.

‘What are you doing Silver? Are you attempting to dance or to fly, I can’t quite tell.’

Silver snorted cutely, and spluttered with indignant embarrassment through his laughter.

‘D-DOHOHON’T BEHE CHEHEHEEKY!’

Harold grinned at that, and now scratched specifically at the sides of Silver’s tummy as he replied in a half-nonchalant, half-teasy tone which Harold thought would fluster Silver immensely.

‘But being cheeky seems to make you blush more, and besides, I fail to see how you can stop me….you seem to be at my mercy Silver, would that be fair to say?’

Harold was right of course, his tone of voice and wording really got to Silver. Needless to say, Harold was one of the best amateur ticklers ever, and Silver had to admit that he was certainly at Harold’s mercy right now. Especially since the sides of his tummy were monolithically ticklish and had him squealing.

‘EEEE-OHOMYGOHOD YESYES OHOKAY I AHAM!!’

Harold beamed, feeling very proud that he’d managed to get Silver to admit it aloud, and he was feeling oh so happy and confident with his tickling abilities. Then, he raised an eyebrow down at Silver, still tickling him as he spoke.

‘Would you say that I am a good tickler then? Based on the fact that I have you at my mercy?’

Silver snorted again with embarrassment through his laughter, his dimples fully on show along with his sweet smile as he nodded and wriggled about, trying desperately to stay strong and not fight back instinctively.

‘YEHEHES YEHEHEHES!!’

Harold was thoroughly enjoying tickling Silver like this, and decided to move his scratching fingertips down to Silver’s waist. Harold let out a chuckle when Silver yelped and bucked, before throwing his head back with mirth.

‘Gohoodness Silver, is there anywhere you’re not ticklish? You must have the most unruly nervous system in humanity.’

Silver hit his bedcovers with his fists as he writhed, laughing hysterically now as he got happy tears in his eyes from all the tickling….Harold was just too freaking good!

‘IHIHIHI DOHOHOHO NAHAHAHAT!!!’

‘Oh I beg to differ! I’m not even tickling you intensely and you’re so hysterical! It’s adorable!’

Silver tossed his head about as he laughed, his face and neck a furious red from his flusteredness from all the surprisingly effective teasing and tickling. As a result, Silver had now reached the end of his tether for the day, and called out giddily as his face scrunched up cutely.

‘REHEHEHED REHEHED!!!’

Harold gaped and immediately stopped, looking down at Silver with a half-smiled. He was elated from tickling Silver, but also a little anxious to see if he was okay after saying his safe-word. Harold fiddled with his fingers as he cleared his throat.

‘Are ah…..are you a-alright Silver?’

Silver was panting and giggling residually, and of course didn’t hesitate to nod as he smiled up at Harold so damn happily.

‘Haharold Daharrensworth…..yohou are the b-best ahamateur t-tickler ehever!’

Harold gaped and went pink with happy bashfulness, letting out a laugh as he felt his heart swell at the compliment. He’d done good. On his first time, he’d done good, he’d done the right things and kept it all happy and fun…..he was a good tickler after all. Silver had loved it, and so had Harold. Harold slid off of Silver’s legs, and cleared his throat again as he smiled at Silver.

’So ah….what do we do now?’

Silver smiled, and made Harold yelp by pulling him down next to him and wrapping his arms around him.

‘Now, we cuddle, which fyi is completely mandatory.’

Harold giggled at that and happily snuggled Silver. Harold felt so happy. Because yes, the one on the receiving end of the tickling is the person being made to smile and laugh….but never underestimate how happy someone can become when they lovingly coax out that laughter. It is one of the most fulfilling things in the world.

WOOOO HOPE YOU ALL LIKED THIS FIC LEMME KNOW IF YA DID WOOOO LUV YOUS XX

[atinytokki]

The Windy Road

viii. Alone

As rare as the occasion was, Mingi wasn’t surprised when Mother agreed to let him drop out of school. It was yet another costly expense to their family, and he was working on the water now. For the foreseeable future, that was his life.

Mingi knew it was the responsible thing to do, but still watched sadly from his window as Bosung and Dahye walked together into town without him.

He hadn’t spent much time with Bosung lately, aside from the hour or two they spent last week kicking a ball around while he explained that he and Dahye were together now. Noticing the way Bosung looked at her still, Mingi could only hope he remembered their conversation and took it to heart.

Work was lighter as autumn deepened into orange and gold, but the highlights of Mingi’s day remained the moments he spent with Hongjoong before he hurried back to Jangwon to complete whatever tasks had been set for him.

One day in fall, Hongjoong was at the beach early and stayed late when their fishing work had been finished, passing their catches off to Mingi’s father to be sold in the market but hanging around to help stock them as well this time.

“Don’t you have more chores to do at home?” Mingi asked as he checked the time on the grand clock in the main square, hesitant but hoping Hongjoong would answer “no” and spend the evening with him.

“Actually, today I don’t,” Hongjoong smiled back, dropping off the last basket at the fish stall and glancing around the market. “I have some extra money to spend, and I thought I might do it here. Would you like to join me?”

“Of course!” Mingi bubbled with excitement and waved goodbye to his father. It was the most interesting thing to happen to him in the past two months.

“But why have you been given a day off?” He asked after they’d wandered the stalls for a few minutes in comfortable silence. “Usually your family keeps you as busy as possible.”

“I have my ways of getting around that,” Hongjoong explained with a nonchalant shrug. “And I’ve struck a deal that they have to give me a day off on my birthday.”

Mingi stopped in his tracks and gasped. “Today’s your sixteenth birthday?”

Again, Hongjoong nodded without looking up from the fabrics he was inspecting and Mingi punched him in the arm, offended.

“Hey! I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other!”

Hongjoong scoffed and rubbed the spot where he’d been hit. “I wasn’t keeping it secret! You just never asked and birthdays aren’t a fuss for me anyway.”

“Not a fuss?” Mingi repeated, furrowing his brow. “But isn’t sixteen an important one?”

“Is it?” Hongjoong asked distractedly, counting out some coins and handing them to the shop owner. “I know I still can’t inherit anything or leave the Hall yet. That’s what matters most in a birthday to me.”

“Well, in any case you should have told me years ago,” Mingi sighed, taking a coat Hongjoong handed him. “I could celebrate with you! It would be better than anything your awful relatives could come up with.”

“Alright,” Hongjoong laughed, conceding while they moved on to another stall. “But in that case, we ought to celebrate yours as well. I haven’t exactly been very present, have I?”

“Well that’s not your fault,” Mingi reminded him quickly as Hongjoong added a few more items to the pile was holding. “But if we both make an effort, then I suppose we’re even.”

Hongjoong chuckled at him and took his purchases off Mingi’s hands, handing him the dinner he had just bought instead. “It’s a deal then. Why don’t we go to our spot on the beach and eat some of this food? That’s the best birthday gift I can think of.”

They had such a nice, peaceful time feasting on sweet cakes and watching the clouds pass overhead that Mingi was surprised when Hongjoong told him a few weeks later that he was leaving.

“Just for a couple months!” He reassured him as he rowed them both back to shore after the day’s work. “See, winter isn’t great for fishing here anyway, so you can handle the catches on your own until numbers pick up again in spring. I didn’t want to leave you like this, but it’s an excellent opportunity and somehow I managed to get my relatives to approve, so...”

“It’s alright I understand,” Mingi tried not to sigh, though his voice was strained with disappointment. “Who are you travelling with exactly?”

“It’s just a small enterprise,” Hongjoong answered smoothly. “You wouldn’t know them. And I’ll be back before you even notice I was gone.”

In a way, he was right.

Mingi and his father had become confident in fishing, no longer dependent on Hongjoong’s expertise, and the winter was slow and quiet.

Father was equally subdued, and Mingi spent much of his time with him, from work in the morning to evenings by the fire when Mother was out.

Although he wanted badly to confide in Dahye about his suspicions with respect to what his mother did at night, he knew it could be disastrous to even voice such a thought out loud, even up at the top of the lighthouse far from any other listening ears where Dahye read quietly and Mingi kept her company.

“But the princess had never heard of such a place,” Dahye read theatrically, her voice sweet but engaging, while Mingi watched the waves outside in their rhythmic movements. “She had never been beyond the forest, and never at night, not when all the monstrous creatures in the shrouded thicket emerged and went about their secret business.”

“Dahye?” Mingi interrupted quietly, resting his head in her lap and looking up at her innocently. “What do you think is past the eastern islands?”

“Well, I don’t know!” She laughed indignantly, dropping her shawl on his face and watching him peek out from underneath it expectantly. “Can we get past the dark forest first?”

Mingi sighed and sat up again. “No, I really mean it. Do you think there are more schools of fish out there? Do you think if we sailed far enough, we could catch delicacies and sell them at a price so high we’d never have to go out again?”

“I’m not sure,” Dahye softened and chewed her lip thoughtfully. “It sounds dangerous to me. There must be a reason no one has gone there.”

“Unless someone has gone,” Mingi hypothesised, looking out the window again. “And they just never returned.”

“Gone where?” Another voice broke in and Dahye and Mingi both jumped when they noticed Bosung’s head poking up through the hole in the floor where the long winding staircase reached the top of the lighthouse.

He climbed the rest of the way up while they laughed nervously and made himself at home, pulling books out of his school bag without noticing the glances the couple were giving each other. “Studying up here, Dahye?”

“Did Dongmin let you in?” Mingi interjected before Dahye could answer. Perhaps he should have specified to the lighthouse keeper that they were trying to have a romantic afternoon alone.

“Yes, I usually come here to study in the warmer months when it gets too stuffy at home,” Bosung answered with his face unreadable. Mingi narrowed his eyes in suspicion. That was exactly why he and Dahye had chosen the spot— the ocean winds were quite strong up there this time of year and it was likely to be devoid of any intruding friends. “But last week I was at Jangwon Hall, that’s probably why we missed each other.”

The gloating tone to his voice distracted Mingi from the fact that Bosung was apparently aware when he and Dahye were out together and he couldn’t help but ask, “Jangwon? Why were you there?”

Everyone knew it was the largest and most important estate in Panhang’s vicinity and to be invited was not only an honour but an opportunity to show off, as Bosung was wont to do.

“They needed some roof tiles repaired,” he answered simply before leaning over into Dahye’s space to catch a glimpse of what she was reading.

She jumped and snapped her book shut before he could say anything else.

“I-If you’d like to study in peace, Mingi and I can—”

“Oh, no need!” Bosung swept in with a charming smile. “We can all work together!”

Mingi wasn’t about to leave the two alone, even if he didn’t have mid-year exams to worry about, so he watched them solve problems and analyse texts with a pang of jealousy inside until Bosung looked up and handed him a paper.

“You know, I do have extra practice sheets. There’s no reason you can’t learn too, as long as we don’t tell anyone.”

It was a gesture that touched Mingi unexpectedly, and he reached out and combed over the questions with his eyes, gauging how far he’d fallen behind before realising this was doable and easing into the familiar atmosphere of steady progress.

He had missed Bosung.

They used to play every day and their easygoing friendship had fizzled out over, what? Some pettiness and envy?

Maybe he should give him a chance. After all, Dahye wasn’t going anywhere.

It became a pattern for the rest of the season.

Mingi and Dahye would spend time together, cherishing the moments when it was just the two of them, and when Bosung inevitably arrived, the trio got down to business, teaching Mingi the concepts that were new to him and practicing together. It even came with an additional bonus of the latest gossip from Jangwon when Bosung managed to be invited back several times.

True to his word, Hongjoong arrived one night at the beginning of spring.

Mingi noticed the ship, only a distant speck on the horizon, while he was up in Dongmin’s lighthouse and ran down all two hundred steps to meet him where the rowboat pulled up farther down the beach.

The excitement that expressed itself in jumping and waving his arms was slowly subdued as he noticed the look on his friend’s face, illuminated only by the lanterns in the boat.

It wasn’t the joy of returning, it was confusion... confusion at Mingi’s presence.

Hongjoong turned to face the other two men in the boat and said something to them.

Mingi didn’t recognise the pair, but he could see they had guns and their ship was nowhere in the vicinity.

Had they rowed all this way just to avoid being seen?

All he could do was wait patiently as they came up as far as they dared, before Hongjoong shouldered his bag and dove into the waves, finally wading out to meet Mingi with a forced smile.

“What’s going on?” Mingi asked, taking a step back as Hongjoong went in for a hug.

Realising he was still very much soaked, Hongjoong wrapped his arms around himself and answered with a nervous laugh, “I’m back! I didn’t expect you to be here on the beach though, it’s quite late...”

Looking past at him at the two men still watching from the boat, Mingi frowned. They gave him a bad feeling, but he wasn’t sure how to ask upfront about who they were. One of them even had a nose ring.

“I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other,” he said quietly and Hongjoong looked up from his shivering in shock.

“Secrets? What are you trying to—”

“Those men there,” Mingi hissed, jerking his head in their direction but trying to be subtle so they wouldn’t notice. “They have weapons! What are you doing with them? They look dangerous.”

“Mingi, they’re friends,” Hongjoong defended firmly. “You want to know why I can go on the water again after what happened? It’s because Yonghwan helped give me the confidence.”

Yonghwan.

Mingi wondered if that was the one with the nose ring or the taller, scowling one.

As Hongjoong’s words sunk in, Mingi felt guilty again. He’d been so distracted that Hongjoong had needed a complete stranger to step in and help him recover his love of sailing again. No wonder he had seemed like a different person when Mingi knocked him down on that beach last summer by accident.

Noticing Mingi’s sullen gloom, Hongjoong shouldered his bag and waved goodbye to the men in the boat, taking Mingi by the shoulders and nudging him in the direction of home where the glow of Panhang was emanating into the night, voice decidedly softer.

“What are you doing out this late anyway?”

“I was... well, I’ve been studying,” Mingi admitted, hoping Hongjoong could sympathise. After all, he’d been forced not to attend school after his parents died. “Bosung smuggles me books and practice sheets.”

“So I’m not the only one keeping secrets then,” Hongjoong hummed knowingly, and from the smirk on his face Mingi knew he was in trouble.

“Oh, please don’t tell my father, he wouldn’t understand,” Mingi pleaded as his hands came up to cover his blushing cheeks, red with embarrassment. “I know I said I’d drop out of school, but this information is useful to know if I decide I don’t want to be a fisherman for the rest of my life.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” Hongjoong offered assertively as they reached the top of the bluff. “Swear to secrecy about the men I was travelling with now and I won’t speak a word about your academic endeavours.”

Mingi exhaled in relief before straightening to give Hongjoong a professional handshake. He highly doubted Hongjoong would rat him out either way, but having no right to judge, it was probably better that they both forget the whole thing.

His return reminded Mingi how much they had both changed. Spring was blossoming into fullness and the four of them were slowly blossoming into adulthood. Dahye was more beautiful every day, and Bosung rivalled all the other boys at school visually (at least that was what he claimed). Finally Mingi was growing into his long legs, and even though Hongjoong still hadn’t passed his height, there was a soft beauty in his sharp features.

Hongjoong was like a jagged puzzle piece, one that used to fit in to the Panhang framework, but stood out on his own now instead, and even though Mingi ended the year surrounded by the most friends he’d ever had, those friends rarely interacted with each other.

On one of those midsummer days the following year, as Mingi’s seventeenth birthday was approaching, when there was no studying to do and the weather was lovely at the lighthouse, Mingi questioned his jealousy yet again.

He and Dahye were finishing up their reading uninterrupted, and Hongjoong arrived to walk Mingi to the docks where their fishing boat waited. He always liked doing things like that— accompanying Mingi places, almost like he was keeping an eye out for him— though he refused to let Mingi walk him to Jangwon Hall when he offered in return.

In his hand was a bright peony and he handed it off to Dahye straightforwardly with no word of explanation.

“Oh, how pretty!” Dahye cooed with one of her shy smiles as she tucked it into her hair. “Where did you get it?”

“I don’t actually know,” Hongjoong shrugged. “I suspect it’s from one of the maids, but someone keeps leaving them in my room.”

At Mingi’s sour look, he laughed. “Sorry, should I have given it to you to give to her?”

Before Mingi could answer, the wind suddenly caught Dahye’s hair and the flower went blowing out and up to the top of the lighthouse.

All three of them raced to the window and craned their necks up to see where it had gone.

From the flash of pink they could see stuck in that cramped room where the light rotated, it was clinging to the outside rail where it looked seconds from blowing away.

“Oh no!” Dahye exclaimed, clearly disappointed, and again before Mingi could even open his mouth, Hongjoong was climbing up the rail to fetch the thing.

“Be careful!” He yelled up, and Hongjoong simply laughed, easily vaulting the rail and snatching the stem of the peony before it floated farther away, into the sea two hundred steps below.

So Bosung showed off his skill and Hongjoong showed off his recklessness.

Looking like he climbed next to the clouds every day, he returned the flower to its rightful owner and walked Mingi to the docks without further incident. Rather than drag it out, Mingi kept his comments to himself.

Hongjoong knew very well the relationship between Dahye and Mingi. He wouldn’t interfere with it.

So far, the two of them had kept all their promises to each other. They celebrated each other’s birthdays, they didn’t report on each other’s activities, and they didn’t mention each other’s sensitive topics.

It was only a bit more complicated than it had been as children.

“Mingi, what are you staring at?” Hongjoong’s voice came from their modest fishing boat. “There are nets to load!”

Mingi snapped out of his daze and got to work. An unfamiliar ship was on the horizon again, and any time a boat Mingi didn’t recognise came to the docks, he wondered if it was Minseok, returning with money and an apology.

It had been two years since his sudden departure, and they’d still heard nothing.

As they headed out to sea, Mingi searched for his spyglass. It was a beat up little trinket his father had bought in town, but it worked well enough to see the name on the strange ship.

The Stardust.

The longer Mingi looked, the stronger he was hit with the feeling he had seen it before.

“What is it?” Hongjoong sighed, turning and glancing in the direction Mingi’s glass was pointed to see for himself.

He froze at the sight of it, and that was when Mingi realised.

It was the ship Hongjoong had left and returned on a year ago. The suspicious one he refused to talk about and convinced Mingi to keep secret.

“Let’s turn north!” Hongjoong suddenly said as he snapped back around and took the tiller.

“What? Why?” Mingi spluttered, getting up to protest and quickly dodging the boom as it swung at him. “Don’t we usually curve south first? It’s early yet.”

“Trust me on this!” Hongjoong grunted from the effort of turning the boat around completely and didn’t even bother Mingi to trim the sails, doing it himself in a flurry of panic.

Mingi didn’t argue. He had an idea what was going on.

That night he knocked on Bosung’s door and asked him for books.

“You want to know about piracy?” The other boy scoffed, rubbing the back of his neck in annoyance. “I don’t exactly have references on hand. Is it urgent?”

“Yes,” Mingi snapped. “I need to identify a ship.”

Relenting, Bosung walked with him to the schoolhouse and snuck in through the window, returning with an assortment and holding up a candle for him as Mingi skimmed through pages right there on the lawn.

A drawing caught his eye from a page about active pirates. An “Eden” whose wanted poster reminded Mingi of the frowning face he had seen that night Hongjoong returned.

But he had only seen him once, and only the half of his face lit by the lantern he was holding...

A line below claimed his real name was Kim Yonghwan and he was captain of the Stardust, and Mingi was sure of it.

“It’s him.”

“Who?” Bosung asked quietly, and Mingi looked up in surprise, having forgotten he was there.

“This pirate is lurking around Panhang,” Mingi explained, pointing to the picture before running his hands through his hair. “Hongjoong knows him.”

Bosung said nothing but took the book back and glanced at it before looking back up at Mingi with an unreadable expression. “This was all you needed?”

Mingi nodded and sat there while Bosung returned the materials. He said nothing as they left the schoolhouse, and said nothing as they walked home.

“You think Hongjoong is in league with this criminal?” Bosung finally piped up as they reached his front door, voice only mildly amused and not horrified like Mingi was deep inside.

“What? No!” Mingi defended quickly. No one was supposed to know, he wasn’t even supposed to know. He had made a promise. “No, of course not. It’s all just a misunderstanding.”

Mingi was uncharacteristically quiet at work the next day and it went completely unnoticed, probably due to how tired Hongjoong looked.

Mingi didn’t know how he did it. The number of responsibilities he had at Jangwon hadn’t changed since being hired to help the Song’s fishing business, and on top of both of those things he was secretly apprenticed to a pirate.

It was only a matter of time before someone found out.

But as he discovered shockingly only a week later, it was already too late. The word was out.

For a third time, he ran into Hongjoong. He was on the beach at night once again, but this time Hongjoong caught himself without falling over.

“What did you do?” Hongjoong spat, shoving Mingi away when he tried to steady him. “You’re the only one who ever saw, I know it was you!”

“Saw what?” Mingi demanded, confused why he was so angry at him, but in the back of his mind he knew what had happened.

“My family called in the Navy, they know Eden is here,” Hongjoong yelled back, but his voice was thick with tears. In the low light, Mingi could barely see the betrayal on his face, but he knew it was there. He could hear it.

“I didn’t know Bosung would tell your family...”

“Why did you trust him?” Hongjoong whispered brokenly. “He’s not your friend, he hates you for taking Dahye from him.”

Mingi opened his mouth and closed it again in shock.

It made sense now. All along it had been a front. Bosung didn’t care about him, he’d only been using him to spend time with Dahye.

And like an idiot, he had fallen for it. Why couldn’t he have just opened his eyes?

“I think this is goodbye,” Hongjoong finally told him, suppressing the shaking of his voice and turning to look out at the ocean.

That ship was there again— the Stardust. Probably to pick him up and sail away, never to return.

Reality began to sink in. He would never see Hongjoong again.

“Hongjoong, I’m so sorry, I never meant for this to happen,” he cried, hands covering his mouth to muffle the threatening sobs. “Please, just give me a second chance...”

Clearly Hongjoong’s life on the water meant too much to him. Now was the single opportunity he had to leave that abusive household once and for all.

“I belong out there, with them,” Hongjoong confessed, and his voice was raw and honest. “There’s no more use in kidding myself.”

Mingi reached for him, but he was already moving away.

A boat had come out to meet him, and they rowed with such haste Mingi knew there were no words he could say that would bring Hongjoong back to him.

He had broken his promise, and now Hongjoong was running for his life.

Mingi turned away when the pirates looked at him again. He couldn’t let them see his guilty face. Pirates didn’t sob like he was, bent over in the sand with his hands tangled in his hair and hot tears trailing down his face.

But as he looked up at Hongjoong’s face one last time, he noticed the shimmer in his eyes. He was crying too.

Dry and devoid of life, Mingi returned home when the ship was long gone.

He sat in the chair facing the window as if waiting there would bring Hongjoong back. As if it had brought Minseok back.

Father asked what he was doing there the next morning and why Hongjoong hadn’t appeared for work and Mingi answered with the lie he had already prepared.

“He was kidnapped by pirates.”

No one in Panhang could fathom why, and Mingi would never tell them. The esteemed Admiral Kim had already gone after the Stardust at the Kim family’s call and there were only two outcomes; either Hongjoong was “rescued” while his pirate friends were killed and he resented Mingi for the rest of his life, or the Stardust escaped to somewhere safe and Mingi never saw Hongjoong again.

Dahye knew nothing but seemed to understand nonetheless. She gave Mingi space to simply exist, the way he had when Minseok had left, and chalked it up to the kidnapping of his best friend.

Mingi wouldn’t make the mistake of opening his mouth again.

He stayed away from Bosung, but it didn’t matter in the end. As he walked through the market that weekend, there were whispers.

Women were closing their shutters as he approached, and all the men at their stalls threw him dirty looks.

Just like that day two years ago, Mother waited for him in her chair with bad news.

“Mingi, I don’t know what you’ve heard in town today, but I just want you to know...”

“I already do,” he whispered back, taking her hand and squeezing it. “I know where you go at night. You don’t have to apologise to me.”

But this time he hadn’t told anyone, even accidentally. He held his mother while she cried that this time it was her own actions that would ruin them and considered his shortlist of enemies.

It was Bosung’s final blow, and he delivered it with a smile on his face.

“Maybe her clients should have kept their mouths shut.”

“Why are you doing this?” Mingi growled back, clenching his hand to keep from punching his former friend in the face. “You think Dahye will come running to you just because of my mother’s occupation?”

“Oh I don’t just think so,” Bosung bragged yet again, that smile so annoyingly sure. “I know so.”

And he was right.

Dahye was there on his doorstep before he could even search her out, her parents standing behind her with an iron grip on her shoulder, listening in as she shakily announced it was over.

“My family will not permit me to have contact with you,” she explained, eyes filling with tears that stubbornly refused to fall. “It would be seen as disgraceful, given your mother’s... actions.”

She was trying so hard to be strong, to reassure Mingi she still cared for him, but before she could say another word, her parents were steering her away, back to that house next door where she could only gaze back at him longingly and watch him reach out a useless hand.

He tried to remember the positive, that Dahye would be free to choose for herself as an adult in a few years’ time, that they only needed to be patient until she could defy her parents’ commands.

But Bosung was ready to make his move, and he had managed to completely isolate Mingi from all his friends in just a few short days, getting away untouched. Mingi would not underestimate him.

His seventeenth birthday was the loneliest yet. He left a paper crane with the words “I miss you” written on it outside Dahye’s door but knew not to expect an answer.

Her window was bolted shut and he never saw her anymore.

It was like every good thing he had gained in the past few years was snatched from him all at once.

He rowed to the fishing grounds alone, he wandered through the market alone, he gazed out his bedroom window alone.

And one day Father came home with news of a third outcome Mingi had never considered.

The Stardust had been sunk in the south seas by a naval ambush.

No survivors.

“But they went out there to bring Hongjoong back,” Mingi argued, tempted to laugh hysterically at the injustice of it all. “Why would they sink the ship? They were supposed to bring him back...”

Did the universe hate him? Had he done something to warrant blow after blow? Could he fall further than he already had?

They were supposed to bring him back.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened,” Father said softly, handing over the bulletin.

There were precious few details enclosed and it wasn’t good enough for Mingi. It was his one last happy ending; that Hongjoong would return and maybe forgive him. Maybe then he would have a future that wasn’t cold and angry and alone.

Mingi curled up on his bed and watched the wind billow in the curtains.

There was nothing inside but a sinking feeling that for the foreseeable future, this was his life, and there was nothing for him to do but wait.

...

A/N: I have nothing to say for myself lol... Thanks so much for reading this monster! Please reblog, comment, and all that to show me if you liked it and keep an eye out because I’m already working on something! Ttyl <3

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[changingthelights]

Green Grass and High Tides

Only a few days out to sea was all it took for Cam to start getting antsy in his secret hideaway. A rarely used storage room in the ship provided excellent cover, and a few shifted barrels meant Cam had a hidden place to sleep and squirrel away whatever food he could swipe from the kitchen. Yes, a few of the crew were suddenly missing pillows and a blanket, but Cam kept his thievery to a minimum so he didn't draw attention to himself. It was easy enough to avoid the crew when all he had to do was slip through an opening he'd created in the floor or the wall, and the rest was keeping to the shadows. He'd listened to more than a few of his father's 'private meetings' while hiding in the rafters of his office, so doing the same in this ship was easy.

Unfortunately, hiding for this long was Cam's problem. He was an extrovert- he loved people, he loved talking, and he especially loved sunlight, all of which were unavailable while hiding in the darkest parts of a vessel this size. The closest he came to fresh air was the kitchen, further up the ship, and even that was at night when there was no sunlight to be found. On top of that, he had no idea how long this ship planned to be at sea. The uncertainty made the silence all the more maddening, but then he considered the alternative. The silence, as much as the consistent creaking and groaning of a ship could be silent, wasn't so bad when the other choice meant he was in chains in some rich bastard's basement. Some solitude might be exactly what he needed to formulate a plan, or so he told himself, and he pulled the blanket tighter around him.

-----

Adrik didn't often wander this deep into the ship, but the particular barrel the cook asked for weighed quite a bit, and having supernatural strength meant he was one of the go-tos for such a job. He didn't mind, it gave him a break from the usual chores of the ship, and he liked the silence that came with the storage rooms. Any outside noise, the activity of the crew members or sounds of the sea, were all blocked out when you came this far down, and it was a good place to relax when Adrik needed it.

The werebear quickly found the room he needed, and it took only a minute of searching to find the barrel. As he placed his hands on the unit in question, he froze as a bright green flick of something long and prehensile flashed around the edge of a nearby container. At first he thought it might have been a trick of the magically flickering lights, until it swayed lazily back into view a moment later. It was definitely a tail, the shape of which he couldn't place. Adrik watched a series of mirrored appendages – they almost looked like long, dark green scales – flex along the tip.

Curiously, Adrik peered over the first line of barrels, and he was startled to find a man fast asleep among the supplies. How this man had evaded the crew up until now, Adrik had no clue, but even more curious was the rest of the stowaway's appearance. On top of a bright green tail, long, black horns arched back from the corners of his forehead, and twisted away from his head towards the ends. His hair was about shoulder length and tucked loosely back into a pony tail, and upon closer inspection Adrik realized it was two different tones of green, split down the center. The ends of his fingers looked as if they were stained black, and his nails curled into dark claws.

The longer Adrik stared, the more oddities Adrik noticed. The tattered clothes of a noble were the last thing he would expect. Yet, the vest the man wore, though damaged and smudged with dirt, bore intricate designs stitched in gold thread. His blouse, if it didn't have a tear in the arm stained with blood, would have been of high quality, along this his mud-covered trousers and knee-high riding boots. This man had been in some sort of tussle, and Adrik could make a few, though speculative, guesses as to what might make a creature like him desperate enough to stow away on a ship.

What an odd one. Adrik thought to himself as he watched the man sleep, and he wondered just how long the wound on his arm had been left to fester. It'd probably need some cleaning....

It was about this time another of the crew came looking for Adrik, having been sent by the cook when Adrik didn't return in a timely manner. He wasn't known to dawdle, so he knew someone would be sent after him if he waited long enough. As soon as the door opened behind him, Adrik turned, and he placed a hand over the crew mate's mouth to silence her.

“Shhh,” Adrik whispered as he held a finger to his lips, and the young woman's eyes widened in surprise. “We have a stowaway,” Adrik gestured vaguely behind him. “Tell the captain that I will be up with him shortly.” The woman seemed confused but she nodded, and Adrik turned back to the man in question as she left the room.

Another moment of contemplation, and Adrik grabbed a length of rope off a hook on the wall. Then he reached behind the barrels, grabbed the man by the scruff of the neck, and hauled him up an onto the top of a nearby crate.

Cam woke with a start as the world tilted, and he felt himself being moved by a force he had no chance of stopping. He grunted as his chest hit wood, and he fruitlessly struggled to free his hands from the vice grip pinning them to his back.

“H-hey!” he cried out as rope replaced the grip on his wrists. By the time the world stopped spinning and he finally had his bearings, the rope had made it's way around his forearms, trapping them against his sides. “S-stop– no! I– I can explain-!” he squirmed, but he stopped as the rope suddenly tightened, almost painfully, around his wrists.

“We do not take kindly to stowaways,” Adrik rumbled, putting on an act as best his stoicism would allow. Compared to most pirate ships, this was arguably the one most likely to be lenient with stowaways, depending on the circumstance, but intimidation was all a part of the information gathering process. Thankfully, this man couldn't see the amused smirk on Adrik's lips from where he was bent over the crate, and Adrik intended to keep it that way. With an easy pull he grabbed the rope at the center of Cam's back and lifted, and Cam yelped in surprise as he suddenly found himself hoisted into the air. While Cam was rather slippery, his kicking legs and flailing tail forced Adrik to make a concerted effort to keep Cam suspended at his side, Adrik's grip remained firm. He walked Cam up to the top of the ship, maintaining silence despite Cam's occasional plea, and he stopped just in front of the door to the captain's cabin.

If this had been any other situation, Cam would have basked in his reunion with fresh air and sunlight. Unfortunately, it was overshadowed by an intense dread that increased with each ascending step.

It was over. He'd been caught. Pirates like money, right? It'd be easy enough for them just to sell him off to Hannigan – and that disgusting bastard was likely to pay a pretty penny if they turned him in. Or, they might just sell him off to whoever wanted him. Even if the buyer didn't know what Cam was, he looked odd enough that by appearance alone he'd be interesting to a collector. He could try to escape once they were close enough to land – but if Hannigan or another trader got to him before that....

By the time they came to a stop, Cam's entire visage had visibly drooped, and it was then Adrik took note of the young man's ears. They were shaped almost like that of a donkey, only these protruded from the sides of his head instead of the top. A small small layer of black fur coated the outside, and based on their downward angle it looked as if Cam had lost some of the fight he had when Adrik first woke him up. He no longer wiggled against Adrik's grip, and his tail hung limply between his legs.

Then Adrik knocked, and, as if summoned by the sound, a sudden spark returned to Cam.  He stiffened in his bonds and steeled himself for whatever would happen next. Even if he was caught, and becoming a pretty piece in some sicko's collection was his inescapable fate, he could go down fighting. Cam wouldn't make selling him easy, that much he promised himself.

Cam writhed against his bonds one last time as he was hauled into the room, and he only caught a glimpse of a garishly decorated red and gold rug before he was dropped unceremoniously into a plush red couch.

For a moment Cam looked past the man in front him, presumably the captain, because he was distracted by the...almost gaudily opulent decorations of gold and red that covered the entire room. If it didn't all work... somehow– Cam would call it ridiculously out of place. It took another moment for Cam to peel his vibrant green eyes away from intricate gold furnishings, and through a few loose strands of green hair he finally focused a sharp glare on the captain.

His glare faltered.

Shit. He was hot. Really hot, and Cam made no attempt to hide the way his eyes traveled down the line of the v-in the captain's dark shirt, down to his navel. It wasn't his fault, who wore shirts where the neck dipped so low?! Cam's own shirt was partially opened, stopped only by the edges of his vest, but he'd never worn something that obscene. Unless it was in bed. It didn't help that the man was also covered in tattoos, and that made Cam want to use seeing the hidden parts as an excuse to get the captain undressed.

Before Cam could stop himself, he gave the captain a full once-over. His ears perked up, his tail flicked playfully behind him, and his next words followed like a reflex.

“At least buy me dinner first,” he smirked to mask the fear clawing at his chest, “I don't usually start out with hardcore bondage on a first date.”

[prettywordsyouleft]

Someone Special

Prompt: #3 for @tanithrea​ – “This was my mother/father’s”

tanithrea said:

3 - Mingyu svt (thinking from his mum) Whatever inspiration hits you 👍🏻😉💖

Pairing: Kim Mingyu x reader (ft. Jeon Wonwoo)

Genre: meet cute / fluff

Warnings: not Casper, but there is definitely a friendly ghost up in here. Also, mentioning of something that affected the normal way of living – but not said in detail.

A/N: So for this story, I’m aware it could have been a good series idea, and still my brain is in two minds of whether I need to write more in this world or not. I didn’t really go into detail of what led to their predicament, rather the present moment in time to keep this story from becoming too long. I hope it makes sense, and if I feel compelled to continue it sometime, I’ll make sure to add more then!

Word count: 2223

The headlights illuminated the house up ahead and you sighed in relief, unbuckling your seatbelt. You were exhausted and the only thing on your mind was finding a bed once inside and becoming acquainted with it for many hours.

“Are you sure it’s okay to stay here?” Emmy asked from the back seat and you turned to Wonwoo on the driver’s side, waiting for clarification. Of course, you were compelled to just go up into the house anyway by this point, uncaring if the house was even a home to ghosts. You would sleep among the dead if you had to. Still, you were curious as to why he had driven you here.

Nodding slightly, Wonwoo sighed. “It will keep us safe.”

“It looks abandoned,” Emmy whined, shuddering visibly.

“It belongs to a good friend of mine, he’ll be all too happy to let us stay here,” Wonwoo confirmed, opening the car door and getting out.

You followed suit, rolling your eyes when Emmy clung onto you. “Stop being a baby, we can’t just keep driving around mindlessly, Em. We’ve left the city for good, now it’s time to find a place to settle and call home.”

“Yes but… look at it Y/N. Surely you can see how spooky it is too?!”

Glancing at the home, you wouldn’t say it was the most welcoming. It was an older-style manor and in need of some TLC to the overgrown gardens. However, the roof looked as if it would hold off the drizzle that you knew would turn to rain soon, and that’s all that mattered.

That and finding a bed.

Turning to Emmy, you shrugged and started towards the veranda, Wonwoo carrying your bags in behind you both. He stepped forward when you waited in front of the door, fishing out a key from its hiding spot. Grinning at his discovery, he then unlocked the door, which creaked open, exposing the modest interior.

“Bedrooms are upstairs, and there’s a bathroom at the end of this hallway if you need it. Kitchen is to the left, just beyond the living room.”

“And the owner?” Emmy asked and then groaned. “I guess, with times as tough as they are now, everyone is displaced.”

“I just want a bed,” you announced, stepping inside boldly, looking around yourself briefly before taking the staircase to the second floor. There were several doors and you simply chose the one at the very end, hoping it would lead you to a bed. Twisting the handle, you smiled when a four-poster bed appeared, the moonlight illuminating over it from the open-curtained windows.

“This will be more than perfect,” you breathed, shrugging your coat off and climbing up onto the mattress. Crawling to the middle of it, you then slipped under the covers, laying down and closed your eyes.

It felt as if it had been a lifetime since you had experienced such comfort, and thus, it didn’t take you long to fall asleep.

You woke to the sound of giggling, a moan leaving you at the unwelcome interruption. Blearily opening your eyes, you looked around, snapping upright and tugging the blankets along with you when you saw a woman not much older than yourself sitting at the end of the bed. Blinking away your sleep, you peered at her. “I uh… are you the owner of this house?”

“Me? No, the owner is a young man now.”

“Is this your room, am I intruding-”

“I just thought you were awake since you were talking to me before this,” she admitted with another impish giggle and you nodded slowly.

“I’m known to sleep-talk, sorry.”

“It’s quite alright, peach.”

“Oh, uh, I’m Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. Did you sleep well?”

Scratching at the side of your head, you nodded again. “I don’t think I’ve slept that deeply in weeks.”

“Then I’m relieved. We don’t need our guests here suffering from any inability to sleep!” she crooned, moving closer to inspect you. She then recoiled, tutting you repeatedly.

“What is it?”

“When did you last bathe, my dear? Your clothes too…”

“It’s a bit difficult to do those things when you’re on the road,” you confessed awkwardly, feeling a little embarrassed by the state of yourself. All three of you had been travelling nonstop to get away from the reactive area which had reached your city that survival had been at the forefront. Now, you could afford to take better care of your personal hygiene and feel more human once again.

“We can’t have you go around like this,” the woman stated, getting up from her spot to travel over to the dresser in the corner. Sifting through it, she continued to shake her head at her choices, soon moving to the wardrobe. She withdrew a black and white polka dot dress proudly. “Here, you should wear this. And the laundry room is downstairs. There’s a shower downstairs as well.”

“You’re so kind, thank you. Are you sure it’s okay to be doing all this?” you asked, taking the dress from her and frowning at how cold her touch was.

The woman smiled warmly, as the sun started to shine behind her. You realised then she wasn’t as solid as she once appeared. Her lips curled up further. “You are most welcome here, Y/N. I’m sure he’ll enjoy your company as well. Perhaps this will become a home for you.”

“Who will enjoy my company?”

“The owner,” she answered and then got up, waving you off. Before she opened the door, you jolted upright which confused you completely. Until you found yourself in the dark room you had fallen asleep within.

“It was a dream,” you mumbled, rubbing a hasty hand over your face in attempts to become alert.

It was then when you noticed the dress hanging from the corner post waiting for you.

After showering and putting on the borrowed dress, you gathered your dirty clothes up into a pile, ready to go in search of your bag for the rest. With the morning light now infiltrating the home, you realised Emmy had nothing to be frightened of. The house was clean and clearly lived in.

You were alerted to the sound of someone chopping wood and followed the sound to the back of the yard, rounding the corner of the house and stopping when the young man looked up at you.

“Oh, you must be the owner! I’m Y/N, Wonwoo’s friend.”

Stepping closer to you after dropping his axe, he reached out for the collar of the dress fondly. He let out a shaky breath. “Where did you find this? I thought all of them were gone.”

“It was hanging on the end of the bed. I uh, was certain I met the woman it belonged to. Have I intruded?”

“No,” he answered with a smile, looking up into your eyes. “This was my mother’s.”

“Wait, was?” you echoed and he nodded. Replaying some of your conversation with the woman, you realised you had already come to know the answer to your question.

The tall man cleared his throat as he let go of the collar. “She does that from time to time. I hope she didn’t scare you.”

You shook your head. “She was kind, giggly even.”

“I’m glad she gave you the approval to wear the dress, Y/N. It suits you.”

Glancing down at it with a shy smile, you thanked him quietly and then cleared your throat. “Have you eaten?”

“Not yet. I try to get the morning chores out of the way first.”

“Shall I go start something?”

“Nonsense, you’re my guests. You’ve travelled long enough to get here.” Wiping off his hands before picking up his axe again, you marvelled at the way he wielded the tool. After several cuts, he glanced back at you and you realised you had not only gotten lost staring but perhaps drooled a little as well. Snapping your attention away from him, you looked this way and that, hearing a chuckle from behind, familiar despite its masculine tone to the one you heard in the night.

You stilled, turning to look at him again. “What is your name?”

“Mingyu. Kim Mingyu.”

“Well Mingyu, I’m going to do some washing, is that much allowed?”

Mingyu grinned, pointing to the sun now rising well into the sky. “It’ll be a perfect day to get everything washed and dried.”

“Excellent. I’ll see you at breakfast then.”

He was still grinning when he nodded. “Looking forward to it, Y/N.”

You nodded as well and then turned to head back into the house, picking up your abandoned washing and then finding the laundry room. Placing the basket you had taken from the bathroom down onto a stool, you noticed the window in here looked out into the back yard, and you could see Mingyu swinging his axe from here.

Humans were a fascinating species, you thought to yourself as you pried your eyes away from the attractive view and back to sorting through your clothes. You had been fighting to find safety for the past couple of weeks and now at the first true sign of it, you were too relaxed and even taking an interest in your host – one of whom knew that his mother’s spirit visited from time to time. Perhaps she stayed here all the time, watching over her son and the house. As you reached for the washing detergent, you smiled at the thought, not finding the idea of a haunted house unnerving in the slightest.

Nor did you think the prospect of getting to know Mingyu a bad thing. After all, Wonwoo had convinced you and Emmy both that this was the safest place he knew on Earth, considering it was in the middle of nowhere. You had no immediate plans to depart from here, and it would make sense to get to know Mingyu during your stay.

You smiled as you closed the lid to the machine and turned it on, leaning against the top of it and looked outside again. You fell short when you didn’t see Mingyu out there now, turning on your heel to head out into the kitchen.

Mingyu was already in there preparing breakfast. “Is there anything you can’t do?”

“Well,” he started with another laugh, looking in your direction. “I’m not very good at learning new languages.”

“It’s a good thing we speak the same one then.”

“I like doing things like this. Maintaining a home, showing pride in my efforts-”

“Except for your garden out front,” you mentioned airily and Mingyu openly blushed. Stepping forward to silently help him with the preparation, you then grinned. “Which one is it, you don’t like gardening or you’re too busy with other parts of the land that you don’t prioritise it?”

“Actually I used to tend to it. One night my mother told me to let it go in a dream. Which sounds rather ridiculous but-”

“She’s rather convincing to talk to,” you agreed and Mingyu nodded.

“The garden was her pride and joy, yet after a fifth warning, I did as she asked me to, not knowing why. Then I realised when everything over in the city started to turn the way it had, no one would think anyone lived here if they passed on by.”

You tilted your head in thought. “You didn’t want people to find you?”

“I would have helped anyone. However, I guess its better this way. I have room to house you and your friends for as long as you need. You’re not the only car to travel this road recently though. I hope they find refuge.”

“Everyone is escaping the city before it gets worse,” you mentioned and Mingyu nodded. “Thank you, for opening your home to us.”

“To be fair, Wonwoo did that last night, not me,” he replied with a smirk and you grinned.

“Well, it looked derelict at night.”

“I was away at the cottage down the hill helping the old couple who live there. Their firewood supply has gotten too barren and I knew they would freeze at night if I didn’t take them anything.”

You turned to Mingyu, still smiling. “I have to say it again, is there anything you can’t do? Maybe you’re a spirit too because you seem too good to be true.”

Holding out a hand for you to take, you slipped your hand into his, marvelling at the solid connection and immediate warmth that radiated up your arm. You bit at your lip momentarily. “Well, I suppose that answers that.”

“There’s plenty I can’t do, but maybe they’re things you can help me with.”

“I do know some Japanese, albeit I’m rusty in it,” you offered, in which Mingyu laughed.

“You know, it might sound weird but my mother told me to wait as someone special was coming. I think she was right.”

“If it helps you any, I was given the impression you would be an impeccable host and enjoy my company.”

“Am I living up to the hype?” Mingyu asked cheekily and you shifted closer to him. His cheeks flushed but he didn’t dismiss your proximity either, considering he still had a firm hold of your hand.

“I’d say I have a lot more to learn about you. However, I’m definitely keen to do so.”

_________________

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[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Rise Above

Soooo I’ve been OBSESSING over the Witcher series (and currently reading Book 2 in my off time). I can’t seem to get Geralt out of my head and I basically ran out of fics to read/ patiently awaiting updates, so I let my imagination flow with this one. 

It’s going to be a multi-fic with the first three chapters completed and too many ideas brewing. I’m thinking of posting weekly (every Sunday) if there is interest? Please let me know what you think! All feedback is greatly appreciated. I’m also finishing up some Mayan stories because the fandom needs some extra love. 

Masterlist

Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k 

Warnings: slight man bashing, language

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Since early adolescence mother always cautioned of the intrepid bewilderments and betrayals men were guilty of alluding to. Their mortal trickeries and wickedness so elegantly aimed to prey upon their next doe-eyed victim patiently awaiting. Mother also taught her to never succumb to their predatorial tendencies without a fight. For this made Y/N swear to never become what others around her so willingly yielded to, and that was a promise she intended to uphold until her last untimely breath. Even against her worst nightmares, Y/N would willingly glower straight into death’s mischievously hollowed eyes than ever give a man a sliver of power over her very existence especially without her consent. Her mother made sure of that.

Y/N reigned from the bountiful lands of Temeria. Plentiful on unharvested acreages and majority of kind folk. Her livelihood rotated between feeding livestock, sharpening blades, tending to her colorful harvested gardens, and riding her beloved stallion, Mr. Darcy among many other hobbies that encapsulated her attention. Days blended into months as Y/N kept with her daily chores watching in discomfort as her mother pretended their lives weren’t about to be upended in numerous ways. Even the mere existence of magic couldn’t make undeniable ailments evaporate. Humans were a multifaceted bag of bones; mages were an untouchable species still yet to perfect their untapped capabilities. Y/N wasn’t too keen on categorizing herself hence her importance of isolation. Her once radiant mama rapidly dissolved into emaciation, staying presently beside Y/N for a moment’s more of honest love.

“Do not let fear grip its’ treacherous claws into you. For I know the searing pain of losing a beloved.” A ragged gasp slipped her lips as she ventured on, her words choppy. “I spent a good amounts time wallowing. Misery is an old friend. And its occasional deviousness ruses you sometimes into thinking that its constant companionship will remain and that one is unable to attain blissful happiness. But you can, you can walk away from pain. Never forget your choices, my love.”

“You have my word, forever and beyond. I will live in your image.”              

Her bones progressively weakened as many sleepless nights withered into dusk; her skin once glowed with the light of a thousand suns now had a clammy-cool manifestation.  Y/N refused to acknowledge the painful jab that infiltrated her deceitful senses, so she stayed the course and masked her outlandish emotions. Now wasn’t the time for pity. But her one solace and comfort were the freedom and exhilaration her morning rides brought to her burdened soul. It was in these hushed moments of tranquility she could actually feel the fresh air maneuver throughout the entirety of her body, engulfing her lungs in a welcoming burn.  He truly was a beauty to behold. Y/N couldn’t help but notice how the flitter of his silver mane reflected upon a summer’s day or the thickening of his luscious coats preparing for a long winter. When her loneliest moments fleetingly caught up to her, she was never sincerely lonesome.

Old wives’ tales voiced intricately woven fantasies of princesses awaiting their rescuers in decaying castles merely passing time as their hair grew longer in confinement. Y/N recollected eavesdropping upon the town baker’s inviting stories by the ages of nine, quests chockfull of bravery and resolution, doubt beginning to flood her veins. Another story, another vapid man to ‘save’ the day. She could barely hide the chuckle that fell off her lips when she dare glance at the girls lost in tragic intrigue. One tale in specific resided in her childish memory; painting a certain princess that captured the eye of a handsome knight all within the shadows of her forbidden fortress. His velvety voice promising her everything her heart was trained to desire, all she simply had to obey was his one command; to throw down her beautifully kept hair in order for her release to occur. Why were women forced to choose and best be timely in such a life altering circumstance? Y/N wondered if the Princess truly desired to be set free from her silent haven. 

Like clockwork, Y/N left the bakery in disarray all while quietly venting underneath her breath. The fable lived on for centuries later as all the women in her village maintained their perfectly kept long locks as long as the Gods allowed. From that moment on, Y/N kept her silky blue hair shoulder length and out of the way. Her mother should have named her rebellion by her mannerisms and ideals alone but deep inside her cavernous belly, she carried great pride of her kin, knowing she wasn’t graced with a foolish daughter as far back when she was safely in the warmth of her womb.

Y/N was brazenly gorgeous with a fierce lioness temperament that left men thirsting at her feet, but she merely wasn’t interested in what any suitor had to offer no matter the amount of gold, land, or riches. She was satisfied with little for her happiness to flourish. Her athletic build aided her in this strenuous life asking for no help and receiving none was her personal policy. Her lineage solidified their strength. Hushed whispers from townsfolk accursed them to witches but they had no humanly conception of the power that laid within their own bloodlines. Unfortunately, it didn’t stop men’s gazes upon the beautiful duo. 

Y/N had received no official training as mages were accustomed to but her mother put her faith wholly into her only living daughter. By five, Y/N was capable of complex charms and potions her mother had never laid witness to and for this simply delighted her. Y/N recognized that magic was a tedious give and take, an equal force of dynamics in order to maintain nature’s balance and in secret, she efficaciously thrived. Magic was an underlining necessity that Y/N made sure to never abuse in her favor no matter the situation. She was born and bred with a ferocious vigor and damned be the day she would allow her abilities to do her heavy lifting. Blood, sweat, and tears was her silver lining and Y/N be damned if that was ever taken away from her. She was always a compulsive pessimist, always looking for the soft brown spot in the fruit, pressing so hard she created it. She excelled in the art of secrecy always staying perfectly out of reach even to the woman who adored her completely.

Her mother’s passing hardened her seemingly aloof heart or so she was told.  Memories do not always soften with time; some grow vicious edges like knives. Some hearts will forever understand each other whether death’s door stand in their way or not. Curiously, she didn’t remember when she became exhausted. She didn’t remember when exhausted was no longer exhausted, it just was. The tiredness was in her hardened bones and she accepted this state of being bogged down in apathy. Though through her mountainous misery, goodness could often be found residing in the middle of hell.

Trapped in the comfortability of mundane routine, Y/N fantasized about a journey brimmed with mischief and riddled adventure, but little did she know the Gods were listening to her every whim. Fate and destiny happily intertwined. Over a period, her dreams grew consistently worrisome; haunted by an attractive man with hair the color of the moon, hypnotically golden orbs aside his more than chiseled features. If she were to extend her arm his way, he was just barely out of reach and oh, how she desired for a simple touch; to know what stood in front of her was reality or foolishness. 

What really unnerved her was the repeatedly jumbled words almost as if the man were submerged under harsh waters. His eyes relayed urgency that Y/N couldn’t quite decipher, not quite yet. With every vision entangling itself profoundly into the corridors of her singular subconscious, Y/N was further entranced by the strange gentleman she was graced with every night fall whether by coincidence or curse. And as he groggily faded into oblivion, Y/N had never slept so soundlessly in her entire existence.