#his acceptance arc feels like it’s at it’s peek. it’s all he’s ever wanted

[mxviko]

He’s so happy he finally got invited to a party ahhhh Crying

[photogirl894]

🪻 Fives

Wildflower 🪻

My third and final submission to the Clones Flower Fic Event! I had some fun with Fives and I hope you all like this one 🥰🥰 This was such a fun event to be a part of!!

Fic masterlist here!

Fives always loved it when he was able to get some down time from the war. Namely, because he didn’t seem to get it often enough because there was just so much fighting going on throughout the galaxy, so whenever any kind of down time was offered to him, he accepted it gladly. He enjoyed it a lot more when he got to go with his brothers from the 501st. As an ARC Trooper, he wasn’t always assigned on missions with them, but he jumped at every chance he’d get to get to serve more with them. 

This particular shore leave after a recent mission, he and his brothers chose to go to the nearby planet of Batuu, a primarily terrestrial planet comprised of a lot of forests and mountains. After landing on the planet, they all hit up a cantina close to the spaceport for some drinks. Tup had never gone out drinking before, so naturally, a lot of the guys were teasing him about being a first-time drinker. Fives just kinda hung back and let Jesse and Hardcase give Tup a hard time while also listening to Dogma chide them about making sure to not drink too much since it would be “against regulations”. 

After a little bit, Fives decided he wanted to go outside for some fresh air, leaving his brothers to their own devices as they started getting a little more tipsy with their drinks. He enjoyed a good drink, but he didn’t want to get fully drunk. Somebody needed to help keep the rest of his brothers in line that wasn’t Dogma. They’d be fine on their own, for now. 

He wandered into the nearby forest, breathing in the crisp, cool air of the trees. For as many times as he’d fought battles out in the wild before, he’d never really taken the time to stop and enjoy the outdoors very much. His life was constantly on the move. There didn’t seem to be time to really appreciate anything. 

He continued on through the forest until he spotted a clearing close by and he could see little flashes of purple up ahead in the clearing. It looked like it was possibly a field of flowers blowing in the light breeze. Though, then he saw a flash of white in the trees that made him curious. He moved closer to the clearing and once it all came into view, he froze up. 

Standing in the clearing was you.

Dressed in a long, flowy white dress, you knelt in the middle of a field of purple wildflowers, taking in their sweet aroma and feeling the softness of their petals underneath your fingertips. Though, you heard approaching footsteps and found yourself locking eyes with the handsome Clone soldier. You had spotted him going into the cantina earlier as you were heading into the forest. He was standing in place, staring at you, and slowly stood up, letting your hair fall down your back and shoulders.

Fives was dumbstruck at your ethereal beauty. In the sunlight that peeked through the treetops into the clearing, you looked almost angelic. Surely, someone this beautiful couldn’t be a real human or alien. No…you had to be something more supernatural or mythical. 

“Surely, I’m dreaming,” he commented out loud.

You tilted your head and furrowed your eyebrows at him, puzzled.

“You’ve got to be a forest nymph,” he said.

Now, your eyebrows shot up. Was he being serious?

“I’ve heard that they’re described as being beautiful beyond measure and you…you’re the most beautiful being I’ve ever seen. That has to be the only explanation,” he went on.

You wanted to be flattered and laugh all at once. He was saying you were beautiful, which was so sweet, but he seemed to genuinely believe that you were a forest nymph, which was laughable to you. You didn’t consider yourself that beautiful. This man was already very charming and he’d only said a few words to you. That made you decide to play along with him, just to see what would happen.

“You have a very keen eye, sir,” you said, adding a bit of a lilt to your voice as you played with your skirt a bit. “What can I do for you?”

His eyes went wide, startled. “No, no, no, I wouldn’t want you to do anything!” he exclaimed, waving his hands around. “I wouldn’t dare ask such a lovely creature to do anything for me. I should be asking you that, my lady.”

“My lady?” Wow, this man was really playing it up! As endearing as you found him, you couldn’t help but really want to lean into the act even more.

Then he gave a bow and asked, “Is there anything I can do for you?”

“What’s your name?” you inquired.

“My name is Fives,” he answered.

You responded, “Well then, Fives…I am looking for the most perfect flower in this clearing. Find me one you think would satisfy me.”

“Not a problem, my lady,” he complied.

He started stepping around carefully through the flowers, looking carefully for one you requested. You were trying so hard not to laugh at just how precise he was being, even though you were only doing it as a joke. You were curious to see if he would actually find a flower he thought would be perfect and you waited in silence.

A few seconds later, he spotted one he thought would work and reached down to pull it up from the ground. However, he was unaware of how tough the roots to the flower were and, when he gave it a tug, he ended up pulling the flower out with all of its roots still attached and clods of dirt and soil mixed in, as well. It wasn’t the most attractive thing and you could tell he was a bit embarrassed at that. Finally, you couldn’t hold back and you burst with boisterous laughter, clutching at your stomach and nearly doubling over.

Rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, Fives stated, “Well…I thought I had found the perfect flower.”

Through your laughs, you spouted out, “Oh Fives…you’re far too sweet!” As you started to calm down with heavy breathing, you went on, “I appreciate you doing that, but you don’t need to worry. I’m not actually a forest nymph.”

“You’re not?” he asked.

You laughed again. “No, I’m just a regular person. I thought what you said about me was just too charming to pass up and wanted to play along. I’m sorry. You can go ahead and put the flower down.”

The sound of your laugh was like music to his ears; a sound he felt he would never forget. He grinned in amusement and lowered the flower back down to the ground. Your laughter subsided, but you kept a sweet smile on your face as you gave Fives your name. It was a lovely name and he repeated it to savor the feel of it coming off his tongue. 

“What are you doing here on Batuu?” you asked him.

Pointing over his shoulder with his thumb, he replied, “My brothers and I are taking a little shore leave here for a few days. They’re back at the cantina. I should probably get back to them.”

“How come you’re out here instead of with them?” 

“I just wanted some fresh air, was all. I’m glad I came out here, though, because I might not have met you.”

Timidly, you turned your eyes away. “You don’t even know me.”

“No, I don’t…but I’d like to get to know you a little better, if that’s all right,” he said back. When you turned back to look at him, he added, “Like I said, I’ll be here for a few days. I’d like to see you again while I’m here, if you’ll allow me.”

Honestly, where was the harm in letting Fives see you again? He was undoubtedly handsome and he seemed genuinely kind and sweet. You hadn’t had a man give you as much polite attention like this in a long time and you couldn’t help but want to see him again. You then crouched down, picked up the flower he’d pulled up from the ground, separated the flower from its roots and then stood back up. With another smile, you held it out to him.

“Something to remember me by until I see you again, soldier,” you said to answer his question. 

Gingerly, he took the flower from you, eager happiness bright in his eyes.

Then you did something bold and gave him a farewell kiss on the cheek. “Goodbye, Fives,” you said with a small wave. Then you turned on your heel and ran off into the trees, the skirt of your white dress flowing behind you.

Fives, still awestruck at everything that had transpired, looked down at the purple wildflower in his hands, turning it between his fingers and smiling. He didn’t imagine that just stepping outside for air would lead to something truly amazing and unexpected. Now, he had something even greater to look forward to during his stay on Batuu.

He sure was going to have one heck of a story to tell his brothers when he got back.

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as their natal charts: vernon

sun in aquarius, moon in scorpio

this man is a deep thinker, who does not like to be under someone's control; creative and strong, he's genuinely nice but his reserved and a bit detached nature can make him look bad, he is someone who is sincerely happy with who he is and doesn't care what others think

'hansollie,' you whine in a baby voice, hiding your face on his chest.

'hm? what is it?' he asks, immediately wrapping his arms around you and holding you close. 'what happened?'

'everyone is staring,' you mumble quietly, too shy to look up. when he suggested to dance in the park and film it, you agreed because you liked this idea and because it's impossible to say no to his sparkling eyes. but at that time park was blisfully empty unlike now, when it's full of people, who are all very interested in you two.

'so what?' vernon whispers into your ear, tightening his grip. 'let them, sunshine. they are admiring, not judging, i promise.'

too scared to take a peek from his shoulder, you didn't say anything on this, letting hansol sway you two to the rhythm of the song. it's easy to forget about the rest of the world in his arms, hansol has this uncanny ability of making you feel invincible. he doesn't care what other people think of him and when you're together, this great ability transfers to you too. his hands caress your back softly and he plants small kiss on your cheek, whispering: 'if you are uncomfortable, love, then we can stop. just say a word.'

this makes you smile. hansol may not care about other people, but you, your thoughts, your feelings are his utmost priority. you finally look up from his chest, meeting his worried eyes dead on. there's deep etched frown between his eyebrows and you reach out to smooth it out, smiling at him. 'song is ending, let's finish it and then go home? besides,' you take a quick look at the crowd, 'everyone is looking at us like we're the cutest couple they've ever seen. we can't spoil their show.'

hansol laughs, leaning in to peck your lips chastely. 'well, to be honest, we are the cutest couple anyone has ever seen.' he presses your foreheads together, looking at you adoringly. 'all the cuteness is thanks to you, by the way.'

'you are right,' you giggle, forgetting about the crowd and anything else. who cares what they think and who needs them at all, when hansol is next to you, holding you close and looking at you like you are the reason sun is up?

this man contradicts himself: he needs to be loved and be 100% independent at the same time, he can get jealous but won't accept any doubt towards him. he will never be too emotional, which doesn't mean his love is fake; he's loyal and commited, but he needs space and his partner should understand that. he's very much 'best friends turned lovers' type, this arc fits him the most.

'give me some time, okay?' hansol asks, holding your hands in his.

it's not the first time he asks for this after a fight, but every single he does, you feel doubt creep into you - what if he won't come back? you quickly shake this thought off though, because you know him better than that. his need for space is understandable and you nod, trying to hide your sadness. 'of course. we are.. good, right?'

his lips are on yours in the next second and you kiss him back, savoring this moment of closeness. 'we are good,' he assures you sincerely. 'i just need some time away to think it over, okay?' at your nod, he leans in, kissing you once more. 'look at me, love. i'm not leaving, okay? i'd never do that to you.'

'i know,' you whisper, looking at him. you not doubting him is so, so important for him and you know it; you nod again, trying to smile. 'i trust you. take all the time you need.'

beautiful smile blooms on his face at this and he kisses both of your hands. 'i am yours,' he says seriously, looking in your eyes. 'just let me think it over, i don't want this kind of fight to ever happen again.'

he means it, you know he does. 'me too. i'm sorry.'

'i'm sorry too,' he holds you close. 'we'll work on this one, yeah?'

you look at the way his thumb gently draws circles on your wrist and nod. his intention to learn and get better will never cease to amaze you. 'yeah. we'll work on this one.'

a/n: on the list of 'mtl will analyze the fight and come back to talk it out' out of seventeen members, hansol is numero uno :') what do you guys think? - nini

my masterlist is here

tagging @prpldahy

[chee-shep]

hi !!

can I please request an angst of kaigaku x reader

[sorry it’s very long, you can use/or treat it as Idea if you want]

where they’re both on the mission and it leads into chapter 145 backstory/has girl training arc and he gives in to his own selfish desires and accepts his offer to become a demon and reader leaves the barn or whatever they were in, with guilt that she couldn’t stop UM 1, kaigaku from turning demon and of course the civilians blood on her hands that she couldn’t save from the demon to which she returns back that night, she leaves the corps and her title of tsuguko.

Thank you for taking the time to read my request

Ah, thank you for the request! I haven’t written angst before and now that I think about it it’s not something I even read, but I tried my best to write some! It ended up a bit on the shorter side, so I’m sorry about that. I think I shall call this one: "Betrayal" Warning(s): Angst, mention of Jigoro's suicide

“Kaigaku! Quit running so far ahead!” You yelled, trying to keep up with your partner's speed. Kaigaku’s head was too far up his ass for his own good, always believing he could handle any situation. You were worried one of these days he’d get himself in over his head he’d get hurt, or even die. “Have you ever considered what Master Jigoro tells us? Work together?”

Kaigaku scoffed, slightly slowing his pace. “Oh please, that old man doesn’t know anything. I work better alone; I can’t believe I got stuck with you!” He growled as you rolled your eyes. The two of you soon made it to your destination. 

“The demon is here somewhere… We’re splitting up, I’m going east.” He said, dashing off without letting you speak. You shook your head, this stubborn boy you managed to fall for was such a headache. You turned west and decided to search the homes there.

You checked the first house, all were dead. The next house was the same, and so were all the other houses. Your stomach churned at the realization that you two were too late to help these people. You could only hope that Kaigaku might have found some people alive on his side. When you were sure that the demon wasn't on this side of town you quickly hurried to where Kaigaku was.

As you made your way there, you could sense the presence of a demon, but it was different. It felt like the air was heavy, dragging your body down. You slowed down, walking quietly as your body trembled. You peeked around the corner and couldn’t believe what you saw.

A demon with six eyes… Those eyes… The rank of Upper One was engraved. No, this was more than you could handle, more than either of you could handle. You looked for Kaigaku and saw him kneeling down in front of the demon, seemingly holding something in his hands. You could see his whole body shaking as he brought his hands to his mouth.

You’re eyes widened when you realized what was happening. You wanted to scream his name, to stop him from making this mistake but you couldn’t move. You could only watch as Kaigaku drank the blood that the demon had given.

After he drank he let out a scream of pain as he hunched over on the ground, the transformation setting in. “No…” You whispered, catching the Upper Rank’s attention. He grabbed Kaigaku by his hair, forcing him to sit up. He looked in your direction before he vanished.

You’re blood ran cold as Kaigaku looked at you, blood dripping down his chin as he panted. Those beautiful blue eyes now had blackness surrounding him, stripes had formed on his cheeks as his ears became pointed. He brought himself to his feet as he kept his eyes locked on you.

This wasn’t Kaigaku, this wasn’t your Kaigaku… You stepped back slowly, feeling tears forming in your eyes. “What… What is wrong with you!” You shouted at him, something you’d never done before. “Why would you do this! Why did you have to have us split up! Why-”

Your words were cut off when you were slammed against a wall, Kaigaku’s hand clamping over your mouth. “Shut. Up.” He growled, “If we were together we both would have died, I would have been killed because of you.”

“You infuriate me, all of you! I’m not dying, I’m going to keep living, I’m going to win! You… You can run away… Tell everyone everything that’s happened, but it won’t change anything for you… You're weak… and pathetic…”

 Kaigaku threw you onto the ground before he walked away. You couldn’t bring yourself to your feet. Soon the Kakushi showed up, but you couldn’t speak, the shock lasted longer than you thought. You didn’t need to speak though, the Kasugai crows saw everything.

Shortly after the news of Kaigaku’s betrayal made it’s way through the core, the news of Master Jigoro’s suicide followed. You felt like your world was falling apart around you. You couldn’t sleep or eat anymore, every little thing felt like too much. And one day, you dropped your sword and left. Your days as a tsuguko was over, your days with the core were over. You wandered through the countryside, you didn’t know where you were going either. Weeks later, you still had no place to go. You dropped to your knees on the trail. You looked up to the moon and cried. There was nothing left, you were alone…

But what you didn’t know was that a pair of familiar blue eyes was watching you from the rooftop…

[villainsandvictimsalliance]

When you think about the individual statistics of the bnha / mha characters, no other person has lost as much as Shigaraki Tomura has.

Let's see a list of the people he has lost so far:

Nana Shimura, his grandma from his father side (dead).

His grandma from his mother side (dead).

His grandpa from his mother side (dead).

Nao Shimura, his mother (dead).

Kotaro Shimura, his father (dead).

Hana Shimura, his sister (dead).

Mon-chan, his dog (dead).

Kurogiri, his parental figure (captured).

AFO, another terrible parental figure (that man never loved him I mean).

Magne, a friend (dead).

Twice, a friend (dead).

Mr. Compress, a friend (captured).

Giran, a friend (captured).

Toga, a friend (unknown location).

And now he doesn't even have his own body. This boy has lost like no one on this manga. And the people who hasn't died, they have several consequences like losing fingers, losing arms, etc.

The deaths surrounding Shigaraki are also more explicit and terrible than the rest. He has witnessed himself a good number of those deaths, at least half of them. All of them have been directly related to him, which means Shigaraki can freely blame himself for what happened, even if those were accidents and even if the people actively choose to participate on the actions that lead them to their deaths.

Shigaraki has the greatest killing rate, thanks to the big waves of his quirk he used both on the MVA arc and the War arc.

He has all the reasons to believe he's a monster. The problem comes when you realize he is a created monster, he wasn't born like that, contrary to what AFO has suggested before. What happened on the MVA and the War arc are twin situations to what happened with Tenko the night his quirk awoken. He lost his mind and the control over his quirk, leading to great catastrophes. We have evidence that he was not thinking clearly on those moments of great kill, but he was rather in great pain and very very scared, tortured by his mind. That pain and fear was caused by a great abuse that generated the feeling of pure hatred. In his three big killings, there's a pattern of him remembering his past and what happened with the Shimuras.

Now, almost half of the people on the list above choose to sacrifice themselves. Three of those people do it in order to save Tomura: Nao Shimura, Kurogiri and Mr. Compress. They have in common that they acted as Shigaraki's parental figures. We could include AFO, but only if we see what happen on Kamino from Shigaraki's perspective. We could include Twice but he was not exactly sacrificing himself consciously, he wanted to scape alive.

Two people on that list tried to kill Shigaraki: Kotaro and AFO. Both tried to shape his mind into what they wanted it to be and that lead to Tomura being unstable and sometimes unpredictable. We can see the symbolism of this in the fact that Kotaro's hand was always over Tomura's face, almost wanting to erase his identity, and when AFO possessed Tomura one of the first things we saw was him tearing apart Tomura's face. Other moment related to this is Tomura's confession to Doctor Ujiko in the beginning of My Villain Academia, were he states that he couldn't remember clearly his life before AFO. With limited information, including the years of manipulation from AFO, Tomura came to the conclusion he would never be satisfied and he would rather destroy it all– except what his colleagues wanted to save.

However, the majority of the people on that list loved Tomura and wanted to see him safe. What does this boy has that people keeps sacrificing themselves in order to try and save him? What makes them want to save Tomura?

Not matter how hard AFO tried to make a monster out of Tomura, we see how people keep reaching for him seeking comfort or even seeking a better future. For some reason, Tomura generates love in the hearts of those closer to him. Magne, Twice, Giran, Kurogiri, Mr. Compress, all of them gave beautiful speechs of love and acceptance, of protecting the people they like, of working towards a better future. Nao ran towards her son, Hana apologized for leaving him while being scared.

Or if you like, let me give you the maximum example: Deku changed drastically his hero path after witnessing himself who exactly was the real Tomura Shigaraki.

The reason why Deku looks like a villain on the last chapters is because there's a war inside of him– and also because it's the closes he has ever been to understanding the villains, by being on their shoes. While peeking through Tomura's mind Deku finally realized the reality of the hero society condition, and Deku is currently on a painful progress of growing, along with going through a phase of being an outcast and a rejected kid himself. Like a child exposed to war, or like a child getting more mature after a big trauma, Deku is reshaping himself in the light of what he knows now but didn't know before. Living on the streets, not eating enough, having people wanting to put you aside so you wouldn't alter their safety or peace, being painted as a problem or an object or a weapon rather than being seen as a human being in need of help...

While AFO's plan was to make Tomura suffer to increase his hate, he couldn't predict that Tomura would be the one to inspire Deku to love in a way he has never love before. Tomura's breaking point was also the breaking point for Deku, but while Tomura dives into the darkness, Deku fights his way over the stormy clouds to reach for the light.

Ultimately, everything surrounding Tomura is exactly what allows MHA / BNHA to be the story of how Deku became the greatest hero out there. The fact that Tomura refused to give up, refused to be who everyone wanted to be... even if he fails again and again, what counts here is that he is unbreakable. Even in the deep of his conscious, he awaits for another chance. Deku and Tomura are the ones who surpassed any limits, any expectations, in order to produce a real change in the roots of society itself.

So you can say that in parallel with Deku, (and there are some interesting implications in this one), Tomura hasn't been defeated by the rain either. Like two sides of the same coin, either they drown together or rise together.

[wiypt-writes]

Soft Landing

One Shot

Summary: Vacation get-aways don’t always let you escape the past, but maybe you can help bring Andy back to the present. Just be careful not to pick up too many bumps and bruises along the way… Pairing: Andy Barber x Reader

Warnings: Smut (NSFW, 18+) Angst, language!

A/N: So this is another entry for @imanuglywombat​ ‘s  “Is That Even A Sex Position” weekly challenge. This position is called “Louise”. See here for more information. This is my first time writing for Andy, and it appears I can’t even do a single smutty one shot for Lawyer daddy without inserting a fuck tonne of angst so…sorry!!!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this story bar the reader and other mentioned OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Tagged my permanent tag list.

Masterlist

*****

 You stirred in your bed, turning over and reaching out for your husband only to be met empty space, your fingers grasping at the cool sheets. Blinking, you propped yourself up on your forearms, squinting as your eyes grew accustomed to the low light in the hotel bedroom before you sat up, stretched a little and swung your legs out of bed.

You made your way out of the bedroom, poking your head into the next room down and, satisfied everything in there was as it should be, you made your way through to the living area of the suite and glanced around, spotting that the curtains covering the door leading to the balcony were blowing a little in the soft breeze.

You padded over to the door, pulled back the curtains a little more and you could just make out Andy’s frame, his broad, bare shoulders silhouetted against the early morning sun. Shoulders which carried a much heavier burden than when you had met almost six years previously.

You had been fresh out of law school back then, and he was not-so-fresh out of a break up with his wife. Neither of you had been looking for anything, but as is always the case, you always find the best things when you’re not searching.

Simply put, Andy Barber had swept you off your feet.

At almost 10 years his junior, the comments at first had been unkind but not unexpected. You’d been labelled “the rebound”, his “early midlife crisis”, a “convenient way to keep his dick warm whilst he got over Laurie.” But talk is cheap, as you had both proven when three years to the date you’d met he got down on one knee and you became relabelled his fiancée.

A year post that you relabelled again as his wife. And some twenty one months ago you’d relabelled once more as the mother of his child. A daughter he claimed looked just like you.

Ironically, you’d actually fallen pregnant on the last vacation you had taken. A family getaway to Mexico following Jacob’s acquittal when you’d all wrongly assumed the horrific dream was over, and you could finally wake up and get on with your lives.

You couldn’t have been more wrong.

In some sick twist of fate, you’d discovered you were pregnant the day of the accident that had claimed Jacob’s life, and later that of Laurie’s. The elation you and Andy had felt at the fact you were going to be parents together had been wrenched away from you in a single phone call from the police, and once more that shroud of dark despair had descended on your life turning the dream into a nightmare once more.

And for Andy the nightmares still continued, some two years post Jacob’s death and you knew without even seeing his face that was what had woken him and why he was now sat on the balcony of your stunning ocean view hotel suite in Cascais, Portugal instead of being in bed besides you.

“Hey.” You spoke softly as you slid the door open and he turned to look at you, his eyes carrying the familiar warmth that they always held for you, as you stepped into the balcony, taking care to leave the door open a crack just in case your daughter woke.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” He gave you a smile as you approached the sun-lounger he was perched on, facing out over the Atlantic, the first glimmer of the mid-June sun peeking over the horizon. “I didn’t wake you or Lia did I?”

Lia, or Halia to use her full name. Chosen by you and Andy for its meaning. A Hawaiian name for remembrance of a loved one. In this case the brother she would never meet.

“No, I checked in on her. She’s flat out.” You assured him, as he moved his legs, dropping them either side of the lounger allowing you to sit in between them, cross legged as you faced him. You studied him for a moment, cocking your head to one side as he gave you a gentle smile. “Get out of there, Bubs.” You gently reached up, tapping the side of his temple and he took a deep breath, his hand curling round yours, lacing your fingers together.

“Sorry, just got caught in a memory.” He offered as explanation. And to be fair, you didn’t need him to clarify any further. You knew, you always knew.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.” He swallowed, so you didn’t press further. You respected his wishes, just like he did to yours.

“Do you want a hug?” You offered instead, and he gave a soft smile, opening his arms. You shifted onto your knees, scooting forwards a little, wrapping your arms around him as he pressed his face into your neck, taking a deep breath as your hand ran through his soft hair and down his neck in gentle, sweeping arcs. You sat in silence for a moment, the lapping of the waves against the shore the only noise you could hear as you held him close, feeling him nuzzle further into you.

“Thank you.” He mumbled against your skin and you pulled back a little, sitting back on your heels as you looked at him

“What for?”

“Everything.” He shrugged, his hand reaching up and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his eyes soft as he studied your face for a moment, his gaze flicking to your lips before it went further down and he arched an eyebrow. “And for wearing that.”

You chuckled a little as you glanced down at the pale blue silk slip, one of the thin straps had slipped down your shoulder slightly, your nipples pebbled against the thin fabric. “Well, someone bought it for me.” You looked back at him, smiling as you tugged your bottom lip in between your teeth.

“Yeah?” Andy’s eyes moved back to yours. “Anyone I know?”

“No, just someone very special to me.” You leaned forwards to press your lips to his.

“He’s a lucky man.” Andy whispered against your mouth

“I’m the lucky one.” You mumbled back. “And, whilst we’re on the subject, I would also like to thank you for what you’re wearing.” You grinned, your hands flat on his chest, smoothing down a little before they trailed back upwards, curling over his strong shoulders.

“I’m not.”

“Exactly.” You smirked, kissing him softly again.

Eventually the teasing pecks flowed into something much stronger, Andy’s arms curling round you, pulling you closer, domineering swipes of his tongue against yours set every single nerve in your body on edge. Your hand moved back down his chest, tracing his soft abs before you palmed his growing bulge through the sleep pants he was wearing, causing him to grunt a little.

Without a word, one of his hands trailed up the outside of your thigh, the other making its way along the inside of your opposite knee and you shifted a little, parting your legs, as his fingers delicately danced upwards to where you wanted him the most. When they softly parted your intimate lips he gave a little groan as he realised you were wearing no panties, and you swallowed as his fingers swirled in your slick, the pad of his thumb grazing your nub ever so gently.

“Always so ready for me.” He hummed.

“Yeah, it’s a curse.” You whispered back, as his spare hand slid the other strap of your slip down, his lips pressing a tender kiss to your shoulder as he pulled the front of the garment down, freeing your breasts. As he kissed his way along the swell of your cleavage, his tongue softly teased each taught nipple and your whimper caught in your throat, emerging as nothing but a soft squeak of delight. You felt his mouth curl up into a smile against your skin and you gently wrapped your hand around his wrist, halting his teasing fingers.

“Andy, I want you.” You whispered, your head falling back as you rocked your hips forwards against his hand as you held it in place. “Please.”

Andy didn’t reply, but with a grace unbefitting a man of his stature, he moved, kneeling up as he pulled his sleep pants down, his gorgeous cock springing free and slapping gently against the thin strip of hair that led down from his belly button. He drew his knees apart slightly as his hands grabbed your hips and he hauled you towards him, his lips pressing back to yours.

You positioned yourself over him, your knees hugging his torso as you lowered yourself down, both of you giving a groan as you took him in. Your feet remained by his knees, one hand sliding round his neck, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck, the other gripping at his forearm.

Andy rolled his hips upwards as you pressed your forehead to his, noses bumping together as he moved you gently, his rhythm slow and needy from the off. Large hands slid along your thighs, gently palming your ass before they slid up the back of your silk slip, coming to rest tenderly on your spine, holding you close. As he rocked upwards, you let your head fall back slowly and let out a soft sigh of delight as his lips caressed your throat, barely there kisses moved down your neck, that beard you loved so much scratching your skin as he went. Your grip on his arm and neck tightened a little, your nails softly grazing the nape of his neck as he once more lavished affection on your chest, and this time it was his turn to let out a soft groan into your skin. He loved when you touched him there, you’d often made a joke about how if he was a cat it would make him purr.

His mouth moved upwards again, tongue dipping into the hollow of your throat, tracing a path up to your jaw before his lips caught yours again, the kiss deep and needy, like he was at that moment. Your tongues danced lazily together, matching the slow, steady roll and rocking motion your hips were making. With a low grunt, Andy broke away, pulling back a little, his nose nudging your chin as he placed a soft kiss once more to your neck, his rhythm never changing as his hands pulled you even closer, pressing your chest into his.

“Baby, look at me.” His voice was a whisper, and it was a request not a demand, but a request you were more than happy to meet. Your eyes locked onto those deep, ocean blues which were blown with love and lust and you simply held his gaze as he continued to rock up into you, stroking that spot inside that drove you wild.

You could feel the burning, deep in the pit of your stomach, and your hips started to move a little more as you ground down against him, desperate for the friction against your clit and you let out a little cry as you found it, Andy bucking up a little deeper and faster, reading your body language perfectly, just like he always could.

Moving your hands, you cupped his face, the pads of your fingers tangling in his beard as he closed his eyes, those ridiculously long eyelashes fluttering against his flushed cheeks and you pushed down again, rotating your hips, watching with satisfaction as he tipped his head back, a groan flowing freely from his lips, the softly whispered “don’t stop” barely audible, his voice was that deep.

Seeing him so suppliant was something you would never get tired of, because you loved this beautiful, wonderful man with everything you had. You’d both been through so much, yet still made it through the other side as strong as ever, the ultimate sign of your love sleeping in the room inside as you gave yourselves to one another whilst the dawn continued to break over the ocean, tendrils of light purples, oranges and yellow snaring around the pair of you, enveloping you in their warmth, heating the very depth of your souls.

“I love you.” You pulled his face back to yours, kissing him once more, your lips resting against his as you told him again. “I love you.”

“I love you too, so fahkin’ much.” His Boston twang grew more pronounced as did the movements of his hips, his rolls turning into thrusts as you met him movement for movement, pushing down, rocking yourself against him. The burn you had been feeling was now boiling hot as it bubbled to the surface, and you knew that any moment now you were going to erupt into flames.

“Fuck, Andy, I need…”

“Take it, Honey, it’s all yours…” He surged upwards, his hands flat against your back, pulling you to him as you kissed him deeply, before you’re head tipped back as the world around you tilted on its axis, your stomach tightening as you clenched down around him, your release crashing over you like the waves on the shore below. Your entire body went rigid, his name on your lips became nothing but a choked, strangled moan as he continued to rut up into you, his face pressing into your neck as he chased his own bliss.

"Fuck, Sweetheart..." Andy growled as with one final thrust upwards, his body stiffened and he spilled himself inside you, his cock twitching as the aftershocks of your orgasm kept your walls clamping down on him. His head tipped back, eyes fluttering shut and his jaw clenched before he relaxed a little, chest sagging as his arms clutched you to him, as if he never wanted to let you go.

Which, if he didn't, that was perfectly fine by you.

You leaned forward gently, sliding your nose along his, your lips brushing together as he gave a soft smile. With a satisfied sigh he leaned back, taking you with him as he made to settle you down against the back of the lounger you were laying on. Only he didn't stop, he kept going, his eyes flying open with surprise as the back of the lounger collapsed and you were suddenly pitched forward as the other end tipped up sending Andy crashing backwards onto the balcony with a loud bang as the metal frame of the lounger hit the sandstone tiled surface, you still clutched securely to his chest.

There was a pause as the pair of you looked at each other in surprise before Andy's head fell back and he gave a huge bellow of laughter and you hastily clamped your hand over his mouth in an attempt to stifle the noise, trying to supress your own giggles. One of Andy's hand's moved from your back as you sat up a little, legs still straddling his waist, his softening cock still stuffed deep inside you. He curled his fingers around the wrist of the hand you had pressed over his mouth and he pulled it away, pressing a kiss to your palm,  his beard twitching as he continued to chuckle softly, his eyes crinkled at the corner.

"You okay?" He asked, his lips curling up into a smile and you nodded, running your hands through his hair as his fell to your hips.

“Yeah, I had a soft landing.” You teased, causing him to snort out another laugh. "All these years and you can still make the Earth move for me, Barber."

"Well, I aim to please." he quipped as you leaned down to press your lips to his.

"Is everything alright?" You head a voice say which stopped you mid kiss. Your eyes flew open, as did Andy's and the pair of you looked at one another, as Andy started to laugh again.

"Yeah, fine, just a little...mishap with the sun lounger." You called over to where the voice had come from, the next room down to yours.

"But thank you for asking." Andy added, polite as always.

"No problem!" The male voice shot back, before you heard the sliding of a door and the click of a lock as it shut.

"Reminds me of that time at my parents when we broke my old bed." You giggled and Andy snorted, his hands smoothing over your thighs.

"In my defence, that thing was almost as old as me.”

"Well that's a load of shit." You grinned, looking down at him, your hands sliding through his rumpled, fluffy hair. "I only got it when I was eighteen, and given that you're ten years older than me that would mean-"

"Yeah, okay, shut up." He mumbled as his hand reached round the back of your neck, pulling you back down to him.

[on-a-lucky-tide]

This is dedicated to @round--robin​​. Partly inspired by the belief that the people you love the most—be they friends, internet or close, romantic lovers—are the people you find, get to know over time, and learn to love through shared experience and understanding all their foibles and quirks. 

In a world where love is something that grows over time and leaves an eternal mark, Jaskier is a tapestry of unrequited yearning, but has come to terms with his lot in life...

Soulmates don’t exist.

No. That’s not strictly true. But it’s worse than that, isn’t it?

Jaskier gazes into the mirror at the tapestry of images on his torso.

In a world where everyone you fall in love with—meet, get to know, fall and finally yearn for—leaves a mark, Jaskier’s body is a tale of unrequited love. On his shoulder a small filly in red, tossing her beautiful mane as legs arc as if she’s about to pance across his back; the daughter of a stableman that he courted in his youth. On his chest an eclectic mess of different animals, symbols, objects—a lyre for Valdo, a horseshoe for a blacksmith in Vizima, a set of vines for a florist in Cintra—and his back the same.

For Jaskier has fallen many times. He has allowed people to reach into him and touch his soul, leaving their mark on him, an indelible reminder of what they had what they could have had. Each person—each brander of his heart—has taken what they wanted, has basked in the warmth of his affection, and then cast him aside when better, more illustrious options presented themselves. The young filly married to a local farmer, Valdo wooed by the riches of court and avarice, the blacksmith to a baker’s daughter. The list went on.

After so many years of feeling passionate, earnest love for so many, Jaskier has come to a single, ineffaceable conclusion. He is unlovable. Not a single owner of the many pictures decorating his body has displayed a mark in return. He isn’t even sure what his mark looks like. Will it be a lute, perhaps? Or a quill? What shape will his soul render upon the body of another?

But who could possibly love him? A man that has had to develop a facade of superficiality; a verbose, outlandish caricature of his true self to survive a world that would crucify his real heart should he wear it so readily on his sleeve. So Jaskier survives. More marks appear—an oak tree, a golden chalice, a weaver’s loom—but he does his best to accept his lot in life. To love others, to give them comfort, and then to move on.

And then he meets a dark, brooding stranger in Posada.

He sees his opportunity to become more than a never ending source of love for others. He could earn love for himself, while improving the chances of this exquisite creature so beaten by the world. And he will not fall in love, because the Witcher is unlike anyone he has ever met; he’s different, too different, for Jaskier’s beaten heart to take a chance on.

After a rocky start, they begin travelling together. They fight, sleep, eat, carouse, talk, barter, laugh—sometimes shit—side by side. Those amber eyes, so keen and intelligent, hair of moonlight, slightly sharpened fangs that peek beneath his lip upon a rare smile. A man so ready to sacrifice himself for the good of others, to place his life, his heart, on the line time and again for so little payback. The Witcher is a reserved man. He talks very little in front of strangers—counts his words more fastidiously than a banker counts his coin—and manages his emotions like a miser. But Jaskier sees through it all. He sees the man beneath.

Geralt.

Jaskier knows he’s falling in love before the white wolf appears upon the left side of his chest. It muscles its way in between a peacock and Valdo’s lyre, shoving them out of the way to curl over his heart as if it owns it.

It does.

He doesn’t even bother to ask. There will be no mark in return. The thought is too harrowing for him to consider, and for a while he has to leave. The bard returns to his roots in Oxenfurt and spends a few months lecturing, but he misses the Path. Misses his sarcasm, his sass, his rare smiles that only Jaskier ever seems to notice, the rumbling laugh that only ever breaks free in wilderness when Jaskier finds yet another horrendously disgusting aspect of nature to revile. He misses the gentle conversation under starlight about the abstract and the profound; he misses… Geralt.

They meet again in Novigrad. Geralt’s collecting a hefty purse from a contract upon his arrival, offers him a rough arm around the shoulders in greeting and informs Jaskier he needs a rest before their travels continue. It’s an opportunity to stretch his long dormant fingers and vocal chords, so, of course, Jaskier spends his time in the tavern as Geralt goes through his usual routine.

Jaskier plays a full set and returns to their shared room. He spots the bed—quite wide, a relief, Geralt does rather like to sprawl—and then looks to his Witcher as water sloshes in a wide laundry basin. The sight is a familiar one. Geralt’s all lean musculature, pink scars and beautifully scattered body hair. There are two wolves on his chest that Jaskier often examines fondly; one black and petulant looking, the other brown, fluffy and rather kindly in appearance. Over the years, Jaskier has become rather fond of them. They’re Geralt’s first loves. His only loves.

But wait.

Something’s different.

The bard spots it and his breath catches in his throat. For a long moment he can’t move, his feet rooted to the spot, and then suddenly he’s surging forward. Geralt has a towel wrapped loosely about his waist by the time Jaskier reaches forward with shaking fingers to touch those wolves.

For they have been joined by a new companion.

A fox with russet fur and bright blue eyes. In its mouth, it holds a lute by the fretboard. The petulant wolf looks rather irritated as the body of the damned instrument juts out over his chest, but the brown one is gazing down at their newest addition with fond exasperation. 

Jaskier’s mouth opens and closes. He can’t breathe, let alone speak. 

Then warm, rough fingers slide over his and press his palm flat to Geralt’s chest. Jaskier can feel his heart, beating hard and sure, like a bass drum guiding the rhythm of a band. Apt, for Geralt has guided the rhythm of Jaskier’s life for many years now.

“When?” Jaskier rasps, tears brimming in his eyes.

“When you were gone, my heart ached,” Geralt murmurs in reply, “so it found a piece of you to hold.” That large hand remained over his, but another lifted to cup his cheek. Jaskier knows his lips are quivering, his neck flushing, his entire body shaking. Geralt’s touch grounds him and he can breathe but for a moment, because the next words that pass those soft, pale lips almost make his heart give in. “I love you, Jaskier.”

Their lips meet and Jaskier feels whole.

They both do.

The white wolf and his bard.

[rebelhan]

linger

pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

word count: 2k+

warnings: fluff

a/n: just frolicking in a field with a touch starved mandalorian...

masterlist

ao3 link | gif credit: @rexahsoka​

You press a kiss to his cheek, or where his cheek would be. At the curve of his helmet. The action is so quick that he barely registers it before he sees you bounding down the Crest’s ramp and into the grassy field beyond. It was so fast that he finds himself racking his brain to remember if you had done it before, if it was a normal habit and he had somehow forgotten it.

If he concentrates, he thinks he can feel your lips against his cheek. And if he concentrates a little harder, he can feel them at the stubble of his jaw, and ghosting down the side of his neck, lingering at the point where his heartbeat can be felt at the surface of his skin. Then you turn around and face him, surrounded by a halo as the setting sun lights your silhouette. The grass swallows your figure up to your hips. “You gonna stand there all day?” your voice calls to him. It’s enough to break him out of his trance.

He takes a second to compose himself and in a moment he’s back to the version of himself he usually offers to you. Silent and stoic as he follows your footsteps down the ramp. When you see that he’s moving towards you, you turn your back to him again and wander further away from the ship. With the child fast asleep inside the Razor Crest, the Mandalorian taps a button on his vambrace to seal the ramp of the ship before tracing your steps through the field.

He can’t pinpoint where exactly you intend to go, your path crisscrosses through the field aimlessly, and he dutifully follows, unable to do much else while he’s fixated on the way your hand trails over the taller stalks of grass. 

Four standard days ago, you had told him the Crest needed some repairs. “I’ll take us to the closest inhabited planet,” he had said.

“I have everything we need,” you shook your head. “We can go somewhere else. Maybe somewhere that isn’t populated. Where we can stay an extra day.” That last part was posed more like a question. He had turned his head towards you silently. In the dark cockpit, you could see the stars reflecting off the metal of his helmet.

You knew that he would prefer an uninhabited region. His armor made him a spectacle every time you stopped for food or refueling, and that made protecting the child from bounty hunters quite difficult. Word of a Mandalorian sighting always spread fast.

“An extra day?” he had asked.

You shrugged noncommittally. “I want to stretch out. We’ve been flying for so long.”

“There’s plenty of room in the cargo hold for stretching.” You would’ve thought the remark was an attempt at a joke if not for his perfectly serious tone and the nature of every conversation you had ever had with the man.

“That’s not what I mean.” You huffed out a breath in frustration.

“What do you mean then?” The question was cautious. Like every conversation was. It always felt like he was scared to learn too much about you. And he always offered even less about himself.

You mulled it over for a moment before settling on how to describe it to him.

“I want to see a sun. Not from the Razor Crest where the light is blinding and I have to hide out in the cargo hold until we pass it because I don’t have a helmet with polarizing filters. I want to see a moon peeking out from between clouds. I want to feel a breeze that isn’t just the Crest’s circulation system. Just for a day.”

You must have sounded really desperate because he turned back to the console and punched some buttons before responding to you.

“Okay.”

The smile on your face didn’t disappear from that moment until you stepped into the grass on a planet whose name you had already forgotten.

Your shadow grows longer and longer as you meander, the sky darkening with each passing moment. Before he’s realized it, you’ve led him back to where the Razor Crest stands. He’s far away enough that when you sit down, the tall grass obscures you completely from his vision. For a moment, he’s alone on this planet with nothing but his ship. The thought sends a bolt of panic through his heart, though he can’t understand why it sparks such terror. Long before either you or the child were with him, he traveled alone. The feeling should be familiar, not terrifying. But his heart is still eased when he comes to stand next to where you lay in the field, grass stalks flattened below your back and softening the ground.

You look giddy, he thinks, like the face you get when you finish a particularly complicated repair, but somehow more. You gesture to the grass beside you in invitation. “Join me?”

He doesn’t have to accept. He could say he needed to check on the child, or that he should eat inside the ship now while you spent time outside. You’re just the mechanic he hired. There’s no need for him to spend time with you outside what is necessary. But he knows that hasn’t been true since he started noticing the faces you make during repairs and it’s certainly not true after he’s imagined your lips on his neck.

The Mandalorian lays down beside you as gracefully as he can whilst covered in armor and you turn your head to face him. Your clothed shoulder rests against his pauldron. There is still enough light that he can make out your features but the details are disappearing as the sun falls lower and lower below the horizon. “I’ll get started on repairs at first light tomorrow. They shouldn’t take more than a day of work,” you tell him.

“You don’t have to,” he says before he can stop himself. “We can stay here a few days longer.”

Your smile disappears and reappears as something softer. It’s timid. Surprised, even. It’s an acknowledgement that he must be fighting his instincts to keep moving; after all, staying in one place for more than a day would be out of the norm for the pattern he had established while protecting the child. You turn your head back to the sky and he follows suit. Three moons form an arc across the sea of stars. Thin clouds float slowly across your vision.

You stargaze in silence. It’s peaceful. A different kind of silence from looking at the same objects from the cockpit of the Razor Crest. That silence was always anxious and frantic. Even hours of floating through space was not enough time to enjoy the stars when you were on the run, constantly thinking about the next seven steps, always planning for the worst. But for once, the Mandalorian finds that he’s losing track of time, and he’s not worried about it in the slightest.

Before he’s realized, so much time has passed that the largest moon is at its apex, bathing the field in a silver glow from directly above where you lay. There’s a question on the tip of his tongue, though he doesn’t know how to ask it. There’s a chance you’re asleep after hours of silence under the night sky, but he can’t bring himself to turn his head and check if you are awake. If your eyes meet his through the slit of his helmet, he knows the question will die in his mouth.

“Earlier today,” he begins, then stops. His voice rings clear in the empty field. He waits for a sign that you heard him.

“What about earlier today?” Your voice is quieter than usual and slow with lethargy. It has his heart beating harder beneath his armor and him even more unsure of the words he’s about to say.

The question is jumbled on his lips and he’s calculating the best approach, the most careful phrasing. He’s always cautious, but you could never figure out if it was because he was worried he’d scare you away like a skittish deer or if giving up too much of himself or learning too much of you might somehow trap him.

“Why did you kiss me?” He asks the question in a rush of words. Then he holds his breath. He thinks he’d die if he looks at you.

If he did look at you, he’d find you with a gentle smile on your face, eyes closed as you try to fight sleep. Maybe if you were a little more awake and a little less lighthearted from the afternoon of frolicking, you might find it in you to be embarrassed at the action, or at the very least acknowledge that it was unusual. Instead, you’re shamelessly honest as drowsiness strips away any inhibitions you might have had during the daylight hours.

“I was happy,” you tell him. It’s perhaps too simple an answer, but your mind is too far gone to formulate a better response.

You feel him shift beside you. His head is turned to you now, mapping the features of your face he can see in the moonlight. He notes that your eyes are closed.

“Are you still happy now?” he asks. You barely register the question as you linger at the edge of slumber. It’s a whisper at the corner of your mind. Words escape you in the moment so you do the only thing your muddled brain can think to do.

You turn your head until you can feel the metal of his pauldron cold on your cheek. Another small movement brings your lips to the piece of armor and you place a kiss there. It’s so quick and so gentle that he would have missed it had he not been staring at you.

You still completely and he would have thought you had fully fallen asleep, but your quiet, uneven breaths are picked up by the sensors in his helmet.

Then suddenly, your hand is feeling along his vambrace, searching for something. You seem to find it when you grip his fingers and pull his hand towards your face. Sleep has destroyed all command of your impulses and he feels you tracing the material of his glove near his wrist.

Your fingertips brush his bare skin and you stop your movements. His heart stutters. Your skin touches his at the gap between his glove and his vambrace. A tiny patch of skin he’d always been a little bit careless about. The sensation is wholly unfamiliar, but it lights a fire in him that screams for more contact. He doesn’t want you to move. His nerves are buzzing with the new feeling and he swears that when he checks next morning, your fingerprint will be burned into his wrist.

Then the feeling is gone and immediately replaced with something he’d only come to crave earlier that day. Your lips touch his wrist and Maker, he’s gone. He’s ascended. The moonlight feels impossibly brighter. His helmet is suddenly suffocating and his chestplate too tight. The breeze rustling the grass around your bodies is delightfully cool, but every inch of his skin prickles with heat.

You drop your hand, still clasping his, to your stomach. “I’m always happy when I’m with you.” And with that, you promptly fall asleep, seemingly unaware of the turmoil you had just caused in the man lying beside you. 

Long after your breathing has slowed, he continues to watch the rise and fall of your chest in silence. He sees only what the moonlight offers to him, refusing to activate his helmet’s night vision. He can barely make out the outline of your hand tangled with his, resting on your stomach. Though the skin at his wrist is covered now, his glove having shifted back over it, he can still feel the ghost of your lips brushing over it. When he closes his eyes, the sensation grows stronger. If he concentrates, he can imagine what your fingers interlocked with his would feel like without the leather that separates them. It feels like a secret, hidden from even the night sky by layers of leather and beskar. But it’s a secret he’ll share with you in the morning.

[yandere-sins]

In His Clutches

Following up with what I said in my last post, I’ll try to do some requests for now until my mental health recovers enough to continue the Fox Wedding, and first on my list is a request I received over ko-fi and which got way too delayed because of yantober and christmas time >_< Please enjoy some Overhaul for a change!

Rating: Mature Warning: Yandere, Blackmailing, Forced Submissiveness, Rough Handling, Mentioning of Blood, Threats, Insults, Mentioning of Violence, Also Chisaki how he was before his arc I have no idea how he behaves currently lol Words: 2120

With the way your head met the linoleum floor, you wondered if the fluid you felt on your skin were tears or perhaps a bloody nose. Even if you weren’t screaming out loud from the pain yet, the impact hurt like hell, and you had to take deep breaths to deal with the aftermath. No wonder you felt an instant wave of dizziness hit you, but being unable to focus your sight and not have nervosity and your shaken mind puke all over the floor were the least of your problems.

Latest when something long and textured lowered down onto the back of your head, did you even realize what you had been forced to do with your involuntary fall to the ground. Without being able to make out anyone before you right away, you were definitely propped into a bowing position, forehead touching the floor, and when you tried to fight off what was holding you down, you looked entirely like a person pleading for forgiveness. “Look what filth honors us today,” a snarky voice picked up, and you could hear small feet pace before you. “The audacity that you’d even show here!”

You were about to complain and set the voice straight that you were not here because you wanted to, but rather because you’d been pulled into a car in the middle of the day and feared for your life if you didn’t move as you were told. But your head was turned to the side suddenly and ungently, and though you shoot daggers at the people before you, once you got used to the light blinding you, you felt a cold shudder run down your spine as your view cleared.

Penetrating, golden irises looked down from above, a body posture as unfazed and unbothered as only someone who knew they had the upper hand could have. The black mask moved slowly as the man before you spoke, never fully revealing his face, and yet the sight in front of you brought a shiver down your spine. “Like gum under my soles,” he agreed to the first voice, and you finally realized what was pressing you down. Polished, seemingly new, white shoes stepped all over you, applying and taking the pressure as he pleased but never giving you the chance to escape from the floor you were pinned to.

The realization of your failed plans began to slowly but surely manifest throughout your body, a light shivering overcoming you as you lowered your eyes, squeezing them shut. A meager attempt of wishing this was just a bad dream, and perhaps you could wake up in your bed soon and atone for what you had done, leave the country even and never come back. 

It had been a gamble, really. A half-hearted attempt to break free from the monotonous life you were living and become someone exciting and filthy rich. Everything seemed too easy and safe when it was proposed to you; write the letter and send it off. Gloves, face masks, using the mailbox furthest from your home-- you had remembered EVERYTHING. And yet, you still got caught, so how-?

“How did we find out?” Kai Chisaki, leader of the yakuza clan known as the Shie Hassaikai and the recipient of your attempted blackmailing, spoke calmly and outwardly unfazed. From his hand hung the white letter you had used, the paper with the demand for money so the truth of their doings wouldn’t reach the wrong ears peeking out from it. Yet, when he lifted it up into your view, gloved fingers dug inside between the paper, pulling something out that you’d have never expected to leave behind. It was so small, probably only the rest of it after testing, barely noticeable. Still, you cringed, realizing that they had traced your DNA back to you by something so minor and silly as a hair. 

“I’m not a criminal,” you mumbled, noticing the distinctive, fearful shiver in your voice. 

“Obviously,” a small, black form, resembling a stuffed animal, huffed, and you were sure if he could have, he’d have rolled his eyes at you.

“They just told me what to do, and I- I just wanted to make some quick cash. You have to believe me! I don’t even know what they know! I only made the letter...”

The following silence was downright disturbing to you, a few seconds turning into the eternity one must feel before getting beheaded back in medieval times. A sigh eventually signaled the end of the nerve-tearing wait as countless ideas of what was going to happen to you now circled through your head. Finally, the foot lifted from your head and flapping the letter in his hand, Chisaki gave the underlings assembled in the room a signal. 

With groans and clicks of their tongues, bodies all around you began to move and disappear through doors that you couldn’t have made out with how perfectly they fitted into the white walls around you. You slowly lifted your torso off the ground again, looking after the last one of them disappear without even so much as a glance back over their shoulder, the doors closing automatically behind them. Suddenly, only the boss and you remained in this interrogation room, even though you were too afraid to dare and look at him. Instead, you focused your eyes on your hands, wondering why he’d want to be alone with you. If what you had always thought criminals did with people that defied them, then disposing of you didn’t seem like the work the boss would do. Truly, combining with the confusion you felt, the situation was only growing worse by the second.

“Working at a bank, inheriting the house of your parents, a pretty penny in your accounts. Sounds like a good life, and yet, you’d still resort to this.”

The envelope containing the letter landed right before you, sliding over the ground up to your knees. Biting your lip, you didn’t know what to say, especially when he almost sounded disappointed in you. His patronizing way of pointing out your faults didn’t make you feel any better or less scared, as Chisaki still didn’t appear to mean you well. Even the truth seemed like such a waste of air if spoken out loud, but what better was there to admit?

“... interesting.”

“Louder,” he demanded, his foot falling back down, this time on your hand, crushing it the longer you refused to speak up.

“I wanted to make it more interesting!” you gasped out loudly, clutching your hand close to your body the moment he let go. “I didn’t mean to harm you, Sir! You must believe me!”

This time you did look at him, with the most rueful eyes you could muster even, hoping to achieve anything, literally anything that would change the situation. “Hm,” he hummed in contemplation, and you gulped as you felt yourself run out of options. However, you didn’t expect him to sigh again before leaning forward, his eyes drilling into you as if he was trying to break you just with his stare. You had heard rumors. Rumors that he wasn’t quite sane and overtaken by his ambitions and germaphobia. Nonetheless, his eyes were clear, your reflection in them more fearful than you must have ever been in your whole life.

“You can beg better than that, I think,” he declared. 

In your panicked state of mind, you agreed with a short, firm nod, barely inching closer before noticing his eyes narrow reprimandingly, making you stop immediately. “P-Please don’t hurt me! I’d do anything! I was just the deliverer of the message! I know nothing, and if you let me go, I’ll never speak a word about what happened here--”

“Then tell me who made you write this letter.”

His instructions were clear, even though they made your blood freeze. “I don’t know…” you whispered, your body slowly shutting down as you realized it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear. With a disapproving click of his tongue, a gloved hand reached forward, remaining at the corner of your eye for a split second. You ducked away from his touch, squeezing your eyes shut, but before you knew it, it was gone again, as if he decided against doing what he had wanted. Only now, you realized the tears collected in your eyes, not yet spilling but there as you had started to despair over the situation. However, there was no time to ponder about them as Chisaki spoke up again.

“Who,” he calmly said. “Tell me, and you are free to go.”

But you didn’t. You couldn’t. You had followed the instructions given to you online via an online forum you used to chat with strangers. You never actually met anyone personally before becoming a complice. You had always believed it was so much safer, but you were dead wrong. Sniffling, you shook your head, averting your eyes as you saw your chances of survival and escaping dwindling. “I have no idea…” 

Not much sound escaped you anymore as you lowered your head, defeated, accepting your due punishment for your stupidity. There was nothing you could have proven or handed to him to make you look any better. “Pity,” Chisaki said eerily calm, taking a deep breath before standing up, and you agreed. It was your life thrown away for the aspect of quick money. Naive thinking that you’d actually profit from this when in reality, you had simply been the decoy, or perhaps a lab rat, for the real masterminds behind the plan of blackmailing him. 

He didn’t say anything else as he watched you for a few moments more, rounding the chair he had been sitting on and walking towards one of the doors hidden in the walls, the sound of it opening making you snap back to reality. “W-Wait!” you called after him weakly. “What’s going to happen now?”

At first, you thought he’d ignore you, but just before disappearing in the dark corridor beyond this room, Chisaki stopped, being the only one to glance back over his shoulder at you. It was scary how little you could read the man from his eyes alone, no feeling whatsoever shimmering in them. 

“Now? You’re going to stay in here until you remember, of course. That or one of my men needs a new punchbag.”

And with that, he was gone, the door closing behind his back and leaving you all alone in the maddening white interrogation room. However, the worst was the ringing of his last few words that kept creeping back in your mind, causing you to cup your ears with your hands, hoping it would silence those thoughts. Thoughts of you - or rather, your blood splattered all across this room if his threat was to come true. 

Unfortunately for you and your anxiety-induced paranoia, you didn’t hear the words spoken beyond your whereabouts in the secret underground of the organization. Not the praising, “You showed ’em boss!” of Mimic as he ran after Kai, having waited dutifully for his superior. “How do you want to proceed? Should we get rid of them right away?”

Kai’s answer was hesitant as he thought about it, unusual for him as he always had quick instructions to give to his underlings. “No,” he eventually said, sternly so. Hand lifting to his neck, he felt the beginning of a new rash prick at his skin, scratching it as he got lost in thought. “The letter’s pretty good; maybe we can use their skill. And we don’t know yet who sent them. They’ll stay.”

He heard the confused and exasperated huff of disbelieve behind him, but his words were final, even if Mimic disagreed. “If they become troublesome, I’ll clean them up myself. No one is to bother them.”

And with that, Kai could devote himself to his thoughts, thinking about all the ways he could purify you. Perhaps, things finally wouldn’t be so boring anymore as you always complained to him on the forum he met you. If anyone, Kai was sure he could make your life much more interesting by his side, once he got rid of your filthiness that unfortunately still caused rashes to erupt from him, even though being so close to you made him feel so alive. 

But first, he’d have to delete the profile he used to trick you right into his clutches, as he couldn’t risk anyone else finding out about your whereabouts once they’d notice your disappearance. After all, it would take a lot of time to reform you, but Kai knew you were worth the trouble.

It was dirty work, but with your potential, how could he refuse if it was you?

[tenthgrove]

Sorbet and Gelato Drabble- The Foundling in the Woods

(Cut for length. Child Reader, parental relationship)

This is a very strange forest. The leaves above you gather so thickly you cannot see the sky above them, as though night suddenly fell as you stepped in. They are tall trees, even taller than the temples at Arigento your father took you to pray when the hunger began. They are spindly and twisted, like looming figures staring down with malice. With the worst ones, the ones whose branches hang out in great arcs over you with an impossible stillness, your little legs run across the forest floor to get to the other side of the shadows as fast as you can. You are deathly afraid that one of those trees is going to fall on you.

You do not know this forest. It is very different from the outlying woodlands your father takes you to hunt in the summer. You do not know this forest and you are scared.

Why did father leave you here? Were you one of your older brothers you would understand as they are big, and strong and capable, but you are not yet five years old. Maybe he saw a god and fled in terror- your aunt the priestess says there are a number of gods and spirits who live amongst these trees, but now you think about it your father did not run at all. He just left.

You continue on through the woods nervously, scrambling over roots and standing on stumps to try and see more of the route ahead. If there really are gods in these woods, or at very least hunters, maybe you will find a house eventually to rest in. You are small, and could easily slip through a window and under a bed so you are not found. That way they would not be angry at you. You hope the gods have food in their houses as well, because you are starting to feel hungry.

A wolf howls in the distance. It is not the first time. You are scared because the wolf-howls keep getting louder and louder and you cannot hear the human voices that would suggest they are hunters’ wolves. You start to walk faster. Maybe if they are like the dogs in your village they will not bother you if you aren’t afraid. But you are afraid. Will they notice?

Another sound comes from the forest. A low, angry snarl. A flash of silver darts between the leaves. You run.

Many paws bound against the ground as your chase begins. You look behind yourself briefly, terror only growing each time you see the number of angry, snarling wolves behind you increasing. Your breaths are sharp, panicked little whimpers that grow louder as your chest starts to hurt. You’ve never had to run like this before, and it’s painful. But you know if you stop they’ll catch you.

A giant oak lies ahead of you, bark withered with age. You are not very good at climbing but you can manage it when the trees are bumpy like this one, so maybe if you try, the wolves will go away.

Arriving at the base of the tree, you halt in terror. Wrapped around the lowest branch is the biggest snake you’ve ever seen, big blue eyes and coal black scales and teeth bigger than your own that are sharp as blades. The snake hisses, rearing up as it unfurls itself from the branch. Behind you the wolves close in. You scream, and fall to the ground.

You are not bitten.

One of the wolves starts to whimper and scream behind you. The rest seem to be running away judging by the sounds their paws are making but you dare not look to see. The wolf that was in pain goes quiet, something large slumping to the ground. You dare to peek.

The blue-eyed snake has its enormous body wrapped around the wolf, teeth sunk into its neck at the base of a trail of blood. When the wolf is still, the snake removes its fangs, clear venom still dripping from its mouth. You get up and start to back away slowly, but the snake notices. It doesn’t attack like you fear it might, only moves towards you slowly.

You try to run. It’s only natural after what you’ve just seen it do. The snake is quicker than you are, getting in front of you in seconds and wrapping itself around your feet. You scurry to a stop so you do not fall over, and the snake does something strange. It reaches up for a low hanging branch and pulls off a small, white flower. It rears up so its head is at your height, as though offering the flower to you. Nervously, you take it, and the snake lies down, satisfied. You don’t think it’s going to hurt you now.

Exhausted from your run and the hours of wandering in the forest, you sit down. The snake circles itself around you once, forming a protective ring around your body. You pet its scales. They are smooth and cool.

Some time later, you fall asleep.

____________________

The first thing you are aware of when you wake up is that you are not being held by the snake anymore. There is still the sensation of its scales under your hand but the creature holding you is larger now, warmer, and with hands of its own that trail through the softness of your hair. Has a person found you?

“Excuse me, mister? Could you please help me find my father?” you ask.

“Hush little one,” the man replies. “We’re working on it right this moment.”

Satisfied with the answer that your father may be returned to you soon, you relax, and lie content in the man’s arms. You soon realise why it is you thought you could still feel the snake in your hand- he is wearing a long-sleeved tunic made entirely of snakeskin. You wonder why he would choose to do that.

Another man steps out from behind the trees. It is still dark, more-so than before you fell asleep. And yet, you can see this man as clearly as a summer day. He is blond, youthful and husky with a woven weight tunic embellished with gold. Is he a rich man? Where are all his servants? He wears a cloth armguard that weaves itself as he walks, string extending from nowhere as it darts between the trees. He doesn’t seem to notice you awake.

“Sorbet, I have searched this entire forest and found not a single trace of mortals. Other than this child! There’s no way one that small could have wandered this far alone, especially with all the wolves around! Sorbet, this can only mean-”

“Gelato, save your anger. We both know what has happened. All that matters is we found them in time,” the man holding you intercedes. He sighs deeply. “It disgusts me as much as you, but humans have been doing this since time immemorial. In some kingdoms it is routine, when the child is deemed weak enough. Any attempts to return them to their family will not end well.”

“I know,” the golden man sighs. He snaps a twig beneath his feet and steps closer. “I’m still hunting them down after this,” he maintains.

“In which you will have my full support,” the one holding you agrees. There’s a hint of joy in his voice as he accepts the proposition. Still holding you, he stands. He passes you over into the golden man’s arms.

“Though it’s hard to tell on such little interaction, they seem a very sweet child. I’d wager they would do very well with us. Furthermore, our current standing with Athena should make it very easy to procure some artefact to immortalise this child, so now is as good a time as any to take them in.”

“Good. After Tithonus I’d rather not go through Zeus,” the blond man agrees.

“Who would?” the other snarls.

The next thing you know you are lifted into the air, the two men flying high above the canopy with you in their arms. The forest grows smaller beneath you.

____________________

At the deepest part of the forest. There is a house. It is a large house, grander than any king’s but empty, aside from two, now three, lone inhabitants.

Sorbet and Gelato do not sleep that night, not that their divine bodies have any need for rest other than their own pleasure. They remain awake for the sake of their child, who sleeps soundly in their new chambers, thanks in no small part to the healing serum applied to the many scrapes from their forest expedition.

Gelato traces his finger in a circle across their tiny palm. Sorbet sits across from him, checking frequently the temperature of the sheepskin pouch they filled with hot water to keep the little one warm. It is a very cold winter, after all. They look between each other, a silent acknowledgement for the mutual adoration for this sleeping little stranger. It’s a moment so… human.

It is not an act uncommon, amongst the gods, to take in a mortal child. Many are raised to be great heroes, to spread reverence of their patron’s dominion across the human world until fate comes to claim them. Sorbet and Gelato have no such wish for this child. They simply want you to feel loved.

[x0401x]

Jeweler Richard Fanbook Short Story #13

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Ramen Story

The voice of the owner as he said “welcome” turned into a mutter at the end, fading away. I could understand how he felt. With a light, cut-and-sew jacket draped over him, a blond, blue-eyed man had come inside, standing behind another man who quite literally had the air of a student. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to wonder if he was an actor. But we were just a party of two.

“Two people,” I indicated with a peace sign. We were guided to a table seat. There were no other people around. While we were at it, we gave them the meal tickets that we had bought from the vending machine outside. A couple of negi ramen.

“What a surprise. There’s always a long queue for this shop. So that’s how shops are like right after they open in a student district?”

In this shop, currently reserved to our exclusive use, I talked without restraint about all sorts of things – about the layout of the classroom building in my campus, about the hideout-like garden in the university’s premises, about my friends and even about my teachers. The shop’s atmosphere did that to me. The man who could well be the best listener in the world let me talk as much as I wanted, occasionally making an exasperated face.

“Here, sorry for the wait. It’s hot, so be careful.”

“Thank you, thank you.”

“You too, Mr. Foreigner. This is ‘hot’.”

As Richard replied with a “thank you, madam”, the old lady laughed fickly.

Now for the ramen.

Its soup was salt-based, warm steam wafting from it. That being said, it wasn’t as if there was anything special about it. We hadn’t added any ingredients, so it was a simple one. Fermented bamboo shoots, dried seaweed, fish cake and a large helping of green onions.

We silently put our hands together to thank for the meal, taking the chopsticks and parting them with a snap. I took the dwindled noodles, then opened my mouth wide and filled it with them. I tried to make as little noise as possible.

Delicious.

This shop’s ramen was simple, but it was a strong ally for a student’s cold pockets and quick-to-get-hungry stomach. It stayed steadily in your belly, resolutely reminding you for about three hours that you had eaten ramen today. And above all else, the animalistic joy of eating without thinking was more irreplaceable than anything else. Tasty food was great.

By the moment I was done with my very-IQ-lacking monologue of “thank you, o ramen; o ramen, thank you”, there was only a little bit left of the contents of my bowl. Still eating the green onion ramen without a sound, Richard looked at me with upturned eyes from his bended posture. Those blue eyes made me seriously wonder if there weren’t gemstones inserted in them.

“Hey, you got a moment?”

“As you wish. Whatever you please.”

When I prefaced it with, “This is serious talk – super, super serious talk”, he made a face that screamed, “You’re being too long-winded”, so I went straight to the point.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come eat ramen with me.”

I hadn’t imagined that the day would come when I could eat a bowl of ramen for 450 yen at a historical, cozy ramen shop in the student town with this beautiful man who usually only wore suits. I hadn’t at all. Even now, another side of me was still tilting his neck somewhere within my mind, wondering about “how things came to this”.

Ever since around the time I had started working part-time in Ginza, I had no sense of reality. Not even about the fact that I would later be going to Sri Lanka. No, of course, I was fully ready and had a Visa, so I was in a phase where all I had left to do was get on the plane and I was making the oh-so-busy Richard help me out with that, but...

Richard took a sip of the salt-based soup with the china spoon, then glanced at me. “So you were not expecting anything from me, is that it?”

“No way. On the contrary.”

When I said that I just didn’t think he would give me the OK, Richard’s lips curved in the shape of an arc, and after looking for napkins on the table, he realized that there weren’t any, so he took a handkerchief from his pocket to wipe his mouth.

“I value the accuracy of your palate. It is obvious that, if you have a shop you like, I would want to try eating there.”

“Thank you. And for remembering about it too.”

Soon after I had started working part-time, I was introduced to a stone called chrysoprase. I once laughed my butt off when I learned that the etymology of the fresh green-colored stone included the meaning of “leek” or “green onion”. The topic then changed into ramen, and we, the shopkeeper and part-timer who subtly had not yet thrown off reserve with each other, talked about liking green onion ramen, what kinds of toppings we preferred, and other such things. I had kind of thought that “it’d be nice to go have ramen with this guy someday”. Back then, to me, Richard was someone as far-off as the moon and stars that shone in outer space. Of course, he was still as resplendent as the moon and stars even now, but he didn’t feel as distant.

Once I was done drinking the soup up to it’s last drop, I heaved a small sigh. “That was delicious. Last time eating Japanese ramen and this one for a while, huh.”

“How about putting instant ramen in your suitcase?”

“I ain’t used to making those. I’m the type that goes out to eat ramen rather than making instant ones. But there’s curry roux inside. Weird story, isn’t it? I’m going to a curry culture zone, yet I’m taking curry with me.”

“Analyzing Indian and Sri Lankan curry by Japanese curry standards can cause serious stomach problems. Beware.”

I puffed out my chest, saying that I had properly prepared myself for this because he had already told me about it before, to which the beautiful man gave a little sigh.

“May I also talk about a truly serious topic?”

When I told him that didn’t mind it at all and that I wanted to hear it, Richard looked at my face directly. It made me nervous. What was he going to tell me, I wondered.

“I did not think that you would actually invite me out for ramen.”

“Me?”

“Yes. I honestly did not.”

“Why?”

As I kept on tilting my neck at that sentence, which you wouldn’t think would come from someone like him – who looked like just breathing was enough for him to get invited to eat out –, Richard spoke to me reticently. He told me that people were quick to come towards him, but there were also those who surrounded him from a distance, watching him without trying to shorten the distance between him and themselves. So this kind of thing also happened?

Looking back, I was also from the keep-a-distance group at first. But I sucked at giving up, and whenever something that made me happy happened, I would be overjoyed no matter how many times I remembered about it, so every time I recalled the chrysoprase talk, I would find myself thinking that I should invite him out for ramen. It just so happened that the desire for this “someday” had amplified as the number of times that I thought about it increased, and I had finally voiced it this spring.

The shop was tiny and had a bit of a mysterious scent, but it was truly delicious. It would be closing this spring. I was concerned about what to do if he declined it with an awkward face, but the response I got after speaking up was a “When will it be?” without a moment’s delay.

“Was it okay to have invited you?”

“What do you think?”

“Well, I was just thinking I was glad that I invited you, but...”

The reply was a short-range smile. That slightly tired face with no sense of uneasiness to it was bad for the heart. But I was gonna get used to it. I had to.

“Still, was it really all right? That I was the one you had a meal with for the last time at a shop that you have fond memories of, I mean. Would it not have been better to do so with the friends that you always ate with?” Richard asked.

Hmm. So he was gonna bring that up, huh?

“Well, well, thank you very much for your superb consideration. But I’m glad it was with you.”

“Is that so?”

“I’m glad it was with you. Not anyone else; with you.”

I had learned many lessons even in just four years of university, such as that things were shifting, everything kept changing over and over, the green onion ramen shop would be gone, I would be leaving for Sri Lanka in the near future and there was no telling how my life was going to be from now on. But this jeweler was a man who knew very well how to cherish a memory.

Only to people like that did I entrust the things I didn’t want to forget.

Bidding a courteous farewell to the elderly shopkeeper and old lady employee, we exited the shop. Cars rushed on the Yasukuni Avenue. Kasaba during holidays was so quiet that it felt like a different world. As the wind softly blew, the cherry trees planted along the street shook and their pale pink petals scattered about.

“That was delicious, huh~. You got any plans for later?”

“I am going to help Saul with chores. We are not boorish enough to engage in business talk after just eating ramen.”

I stole a peek at his profile as he started chewing on a mint gum. The beautiful man brushed cherry blossom petals off his golden hair. He offered me one of the white gums, asking if I wanted to eat it.

I probably wouldn’t forget this sight. Even if that ramen shop was gone, even if my address was no longer in Tokyo.

Richard tilted his head a little, as I was still staring at his face even after accepting the gum. “Anything the matter?”

“Aah, sorry. Your beauty was like you’ve come from another world, so I spaced out.”

I then changed the topic, saying I was going to think about what to have for dinner or something. There were still lots of shops that I wanted to visit while I was still in Japan, though they were all set-meal and chain ones. I didn’t think I was able to hide my melancholy, but he’d probably act like he didn’t see anything. I was grateful for that.

In the middle of our walk to the train station, I looked back at the cityscape one last time and wordlessly offered a moment of silence to it.

Thank you for everything; I’m off!

[the-dream-pawners-canvas]

[ Genshin Impact Imagines ]

Imagine #2 : Eyes of a thousand sunsets - I'd walked Teyvat for three thousand years and yet this sight is one I've only seen now-

Vago Mundo - Zhongli

Imagine how Zhongli would fare in your absence after you made yourself a constant in his life in such a short amount of time-

It also happened to be his birthday and you somehow did not say goodbye :(

----------

Contains spoilers for Zhongli's story arc and voice lines, read at your own risk

May also contain implied smut (perhaps a full-fledged one if yours truly is feeling generous)

Tried to do gender neutral reader but I can't be certain if it would work

Read below the cut for the entire imagine!

----------

Zhongli had been scouring the entirety of Liyue for nearly half a day now in a futile attempt to capture your oddly elusive presence. He finds it most peculiar, on most days it would be you who he would find standing in front of his doorstep first thing in the morning with an offer of a walk always up your sleeve, so it had been since Childe had introduced you both to each other and - Zhongli hopes- so it will always be.

Although if pried, he would admit that he had initially found himself quite at a difficult situation to respond to your invitations- the people of Liyue -cordial as they may be- usually tend to leave him be unless they are in need of his knowledge on certain subjects or of his appraisal on what makes fine craftsmanship.

Simply put, not a soul had once sought his presence for the mere purpose of pure and unadulterated companionship. Even the young Fatui Harbinger, Childe, only ever hovered about him in Liyue in behalf of the Tsaritsa- not that Zhongli minded, he was used to living decades in solitude. Lineages had flourished and ran barren in front of his very eyes (he had done dealings with ten different Yu's from the same flower shop and had never missed a beat on mistaking the Yu of present to that of a hundred years ago- they all looked, talked and acted the same way that he swears if he does not catch wind of the souls that departed and was once again born in Teyvat, he would have believed him to be an immortal) and he had neither blinked twice nor pause for any deep contemplation of sorts. For him, it was just the fate of all beings that ever lived- to toil a slave to the cruel hands of time long until the earth may claim them once more.

Mortals were born to go about their lives as they saw fit. To create memories and gather experiences, to connect with other people, to establish and fulfill contracts of their own and then, ultimately, to die- where does a thousand year old archon fit in the midst of all mortality except to watch from afar and see to their duties to their people and the lands they govern? Where does he fit in with the Liyue of present when the connections he had made was with that of the Liyue during the prime of the Archon Wars?

He did not know when his connection with mankind had gone so insubstantial, and so, he had also long-forgotten how to appropriately respond to the hand that you so willingly extended to him that one fateful morning. That very morning that paved the way to the cascading events that had reintroduced him to the very concept of humanity.

It was a morning like countless of others, a scenery he had long learned to paint by heart and with both of his eyes closed. The same old sun just peeking out from the navy remnants of the night before and dousing the world about him in gossamer yellow, the smell of the ocean and of silk flowers drifting about in their usual languid waltz aboard the hazy morning air, the same faces setting up shops from across the funeral parlor and below, and the same voices beginning to make their sales and advertise their wares.

To him, nothing was amiss- it was the same sky, the same tall trees that endured far longer than Liyue's eldest residents, the same stacked establishments and ornate screen doors- that was until you had cleared your throat and brought his fleeting gaze to your attention.

There you stood at the foot of his stairs, decked in your unorthodox attire with your equally strange companion hovering above your shoulder.

You were a stranger to himself and his people -having only arrived quite recently- and yet it was not that fact that set you apart from the rest, no, neither was it because he had met you through a most unfortunate circumstance as Rex Lapis' assassination.

What had set you apart from the rest -at least to Zhongli- would always be the coy little smile you wore on your face that day. How you vibrated with the same enthusiasm as the day you had met, vibrant as you were with edges a stark contrast against the faint colors of his newly roused Liyue.

From what he had heard, you were quite the valiant traveler. One that never shied away from danger and is simply a sign of a contract away from being a bona fide knight. He had heard of your epic adventures and escapades from his good friend in Mondstadt, and knowing how someone as his mentioned friend having required and accepted your assistance? You were already quite a figure he finds himself acknowledging even before he had a chance to put a face to your deeds. He then further learns from Childe after your meeting the previous day that you are in search of a lost sibling, how you plan on doing so was still a mystery even to the Harbinger himself as it remains that you seem rather untrusting of the Fatui- a most wise decision if Zhongli would say so himself.

And yet there you stood before him then, not a single trace of deceit, loss, apprehension or secrecy on your flushed cheeks and nervous grin as you waved up at him and called out,

"Mister Zhongli! Fancy going on a morning stroll with me?" your voice was uncertain, tone faltering in between words as if even in the midst of speaking you still fumbled with the propriety of your speech, your restless eyes rivaling the sun's rays in hopefulness even as they shifted from himself to the ground beneath your shoes and the roof above his head.

The tales painted you as a fearless warrior and a chivalrous vagabond and yet in front of him you were as innocent as the youth you looked to be. Without the blood staining your hands or the doubt perched upon your fragile shoulders, you were easily a beacon of coltish tranquility- of a young heart untouched by death with your giddy movements and your light-hearted speech.

In his need of a disruption to his paling habitude, he had graciously accepted your offer then- and the morning after, and the morning after that.

On the fourth day, you had officially earned a spot in Zhongli's mornings that then multiplied to his evenings as well. It was a fact about himself that he had only quite recently discovered, the equal enjoyment he found in walking to conclude a day well-spent. Your companionship in the midst of it all was a welcome addition he had found himself quickly getting accustomed to and not the root of all mentioned change, this is what he tells himself in the quietest of nights- from when his mind would stray to thoughts of you as you walked beside him or sat across from him, a steady presence that is slowly earning its place in his life.

It was as if in every stroll -every opportunity there was of matching your footfalls- a puzzle piece was snapping itself back into place in the hollow of his torso.

It was only mere chips of wood at first, changes he seemed capable of dismissing so easily with thoughts of your nature as a traveler and the inevitability of your eventual departure from Liyue and yet with each day that had passed each piece had earned their weight and before long he had found himself walking the docks with a chest that weighed heavier than the wares he had helped you carry, so so full and helplessly blindsided with each smile you would throw his way.

It was a burden he found himself most willing to carry, if only while it lasted. If only while it remained to keep his feet anchored to the shore that looked to be so pale in comparison to the unrelenting waves that stormed before him.

And so, when you failed to show up on Zhongli's door at your usual time today, he knew that it would be a day wherein the siren calls of the ocean might just be a little too enticing- another colorless day meant to be tossed alongside many others that came before you walked into Liyue with your lively palette and a worn brush. They were an accumulated mess in the back of his mind, not impeccably arranged as his treasured knowledge was, most certainly not hung in frames for viewing as your morning and evening strolls were.

He went through the day's motions mechanically, finding the Ferrylady's continued glances along his way as she accompanied him rather peculiar and slightly disconcerting.

It was not unknown to Zhongli that his dear colleague had developed quite an indiscreet fascination with him. One too many times was there a comment made on this in the expense of the Ferrylady and so he resorted on refusing to acknowledge its existence if only to spare the poor woman from further embarrassment, however she seems rather adamant with her efforts today, as if she was actively willing him to notice her.

"Is there something you wish to speak to me about?" it was far into the afternoon when he finally asks, his tone amicable as it always was.

They were back in the funeral parlor after a morning spent running errands in behalf of the director. Zhongli folds his hands on the table in front of him, takes in a straightened posture (while carefully maintaining a dwindling sense of casual cordiality) and bestows upon her his undivided attention, "I cannot help but notice that you seem to be on constant edge today."

The Ferrylady's brown eyes widens and she reminds him of his supposed mortality as Childe had done earlier that morning- a morning that had lacked the steadfast warmth of the sun that had long molded itself into what to him is the very notion of a good day-

"I- I just wanted to greet you the happiest of birthdays, Mister Zhongli!" she then goes to rattle on about gifts and the proposition of dinner (courtesy of Hu Tao) and yet only one thought had taken permanent residency in the forefront of his mind since the break of dawn-

Your absence.

----------

You didn't know what to give him.

This came with quite a generous serving of shock, panic and anxiety.

Childe had carelessly made a mention of Zhongli’s upcoming birthday during one of your milk runs- which so happened to be the very day before said birthday. You tried to throw a casual inquiry about what the consultant may want to have as a present but the harbinger was clueless as you were, that, and you don't really seem to share the same sentiment.

Childe had had ample time to prepare for the event and had known Zhongli for far longer than you did. He had the means to book a reservation to one of Liyue's finest restaurants for a dinner to celebrate the occasion and there you were in all of your nescient moraless glory. His goodwill also appeared to be a test to your patience as what he had to offer as an idea was a wink (of all things) and a rather indecent,

"I'll leave the rest of the gift-giving to you. If we'd want to give Mister Zhongli a reason to celebrate, you may want to consider tying a bow up your head."

That statement alone was enough to make you draw your sword in front of the fatui's face in a vain attempt to conceal the all consuming warmth that flooded your cheeks but then he just seemed so inclined to make the most out of a bad situation and so, follows through,

"If you need help with what to wear I'm guessing the perfume lady may have some lucrative options for you. You still remember the perfume he likes, I presume? I can cover the expenses, just come to me after you've got everything as I'm not quite sure Paimon has the limbs for wrapping a human-sized present." for someone who was dodging blows, Childe remained inconveniently unfazed. He was all fluid movements, obnoxious laughter, and suggestive remarks even as you chased him off to the docks after enlisting the help of a pleasantly surprised Kaeya.

It was a decision you had later on found yourself regretting- much more so than the innocent question that the harbinger had sullied.

Kaeya -for all of his escapades as a scheming Casanova- single-handedly reduced every single one of Childe's propositions to child's play.

If Childe had provided you with the ideas on how to dress yourself, Kaeya made certain you knew every manner in which every single thing may come off and the prolific number of ways to please the dearest birthday celebrant.

You swear that after everything you had heard then, both yourself and Paimon would do yourselves good by visiting the church in Mondstadt and soliciting a spot on one of Barbara's mini concerts if only in a vein attempt to cleanse your young mind- you'd sing praises to Venti if that's what it takes, you were that desperate to rid yourself of the images Kaeya had instilled in your mind. A part of you was certain that even Aether would be nothing more than a blubbering mess of a cherry bomb once the Cavalry Captain was done with him, a bit older and more liberated he may be in comparison to yourself.

To say the least, none of the leads you've gathered thus far serve to be of any actual use save for the utter distraction the lingering illusion of Zhongli’s rapturous face had wrought upon you for the rest of the day.

A part of you knows the man would find such proclivities strange if not downright baffling. You weren't even his type for all you knew, what even possessed Childe and Kaeya to assume your viability to be the consultant's present was completely beyond you.

Shaking your head before the thoughts took a more depressive turn, you proceeded to look back on what little time you had spent with him. Zhongli proved himself to be a rather traditional gentleman who took as much time polishing his manners as he did savoring what to some would be obsolete things in the quickening pace of life- long and slow morning strolls, afternoon tea, story-telling, and appraising antiquities. The most timely penchant you discovered him having being his adoration for Xiangling’s continuously evolving exotic cuisine.

On one hand you didn't want to seem like a creepy stalker by hitting a bull's eye on what exactly it is that had piqued his recent fancy and on the other you wouldn't want to seem too inattentive. You had walked the entirety of Liyue perhaps far more than a dozen circles beside him and Zhongli had not once shied away from regaling you with his tales- trivial and utterly random as some may be- they ranged from the origins and viability of sugar-frosted slimes as a delicacy, to cranes that flew high above the clouds and settled on mountaintops never moving, the oddest of Liyue’s traditions, the most notable local flora and fauna, and what food the adeptus were known to like.

It was only now that you realize that a great many of his stories had aided you with your quests. It also goes without saying that he had a hand on a number of your successes in Liyue as well- having fixed Guizhong’s Ballista and lending his aid on your preparations for Rex Lapis’ Rite of Passing.

It had also dawned upon you that your ears had laid audience to his rich voice orating the history of Liyue and its inhabitants in the most simple and palatable of forms- whimsical knowledge slipping effortlessly past the dulcet lips of a fetching gentleman who graced both the start and the end of your days- and yet not once can you recall an instance where he had mentioned at least an inkling about himself unless you had asked.

If it took all of what little you have in your possession now and even well over the foreseeable future to know Zhongli a little better then so be it, if it means you may at the very least show your gratitude for his precious companionship if not a peek into your budding admiration for him, there was very little you find yourself unable to do.

Now which was the scent Rex Lapis liked the best?

Ah yes, that of a mature woman. 

Zhongli really should give the age of today a bit more credit.

----------

For the first time in years, Zhongli found himself uninclined to abide by the societal responsibilities that surrounded his involvement with the Fatui and with being a mortal- so much so that he found it a complete chore to dress in his finest and had instead resorted on wearing a simple fitted long sleeved black shirt and the day's work trousers and shoes. The wool peacoat he decided to wear on top of his subpar ensemble was but a last minute addition upon reminding himself that it is winter and humans get cold.

Childe declared where their celebratory dinner would be. Apparently himself and Hu Tao had come to the agreement of hosting it together- how exactly that came to pass, Zhongli had as much clue as he did with the arrangements that they had done during the day as he worked. If anything, it all gave him a lot less reason to feel wondrous about the entire affair.

We did what we could with what little time we have on our hands, Mister Zhongli, the Fatui’s extensive connections truly is remarkable, we hope you would enjoy the evening! were the words the Ferrylady had left him with along with the note that held directions to where the gathering would be held, both of which was long shoved by his leather clad hand inside his coat pocket. Nevertheless, it successfully remained a sordid cloud upon his head as he ventured out of his humble abode and into the snowy streets.

Zhongli knew Liyue like the back of his hand, the paper in his possession was little else but a prop to establish his shortcomings as a mortal. It was an elaborate new restaurant just across the Northland Bank, a meeting place for Liyue’s most wealthy and influential and here he was making his trek towards it donning an attire that borderlines being that of a struggling merchant- Hu Tao would be apoplectic. Zhongli vaguely remembers the child's statement of having no poorly dressed employees working under her, it was never a problem for him as his impeccable sense of fashion had always been his pride and joy- that was until now. Until he seemed to have found a reason to rouse earlier than he already did to polish the best pair of his shoes, pick his most outstanding coat and jewels, and style his hair on a daily basis, only for said reason to leave him so soon and with no warning whatsoever.

During the course of the day, he had gone to considering that perhaps you had finally decided to continue your adventure outside of Liyue.

Your preparations for The Rite of Passing had come to fruitition, your efforts and valor during the battle with Osial rightfully acknowledged and thanked and would most certainly be the subject of books and of Mr. Li's stories onwards from today- the finest encore to offer the patrons of his establishment, 'Tales of the unwavering chivalry of Liyue's Legend, the Honorary Knight of Mondstadt' a quick replacement to stories of the Tianquen's paper snow.

If only you would have bade him farewell as you did with Rex Lapis in his parting then perhaps the sky would not appear as dark as it did on that night- was so not a rightful conclusion to the tale of your companionship? Was the mere mortal, Zhongli, not worthy of a proper farewell as Morax had?

As sullen as it may have been, an end is better suited for him than a malingering notion of 'perhaps there was no ending to be had?' Of perhaps you would return, perhaps you would not have to be lost to him, perhaps perhaps perhaps- because these are dangerous daydreams that had left him scarred beyond recognition before. Cuts that no balms can soothe and no stitches can mend, wounds of a battle that will forever remain for his eyes to see and his empty chest to feel all in its lonesome. It was but a single instance yet it ran so deeply that he swore never to subject himself to such torture again.

And yet here he was -there you were- a little flame in his heart just short of extinguishing what life remains in him as he continues to wander Teyvat never knowing where you went.

Was it somewhere he could still reach?

Had you gone and joined the fondest of his memories to a place he is yet to be able to go?

The thought brings his gaze upwards and unto the evening sky. He had almost forgotten what season it was, what festivity was lurking just beyond the corner- he would have missed it altogether had it not been for the telling shapes and the familiar lights that floated in the air or the same distinctive apparatuses that remained on the ground in the hands of the merchants that sold them and the children that had crafted them.

The lantern festival.

A wry smile flits across his thin lips,

Did you know, dear traveler? The people of Liyue would send lighted lanterns up to the sky to remind their loved ones of home as they were sent to fight wars on their behalf. It is in hopes that they would not lose sight of what love there is to their names and that they would always find their way back to those who fervently awaited for their return.

It was a story he would have wanted you to hear if only you were in your place beside him. A generic story that veils his own telling of how he used to make and send lanterns up to the skies by his own hands only to stop eventually as there was no longer anyone whose eyes may see the light of them.

It was a story he wished he had told you in the stead of the man and his sugar-frosted slimes because now the latter just seemed so trivial. Because now he is eyeing a particular lantern reminiscent of his glory as Rex Lapis in as delicate a form as the paper thin life he chose to live amongst mortals and maybe, just maybe, you may now that it was him -Zhongli- who desires nothing more but for the lights to lead you back to him.

His hands itched to send a lantern up to the skies in your name and yet the knowledge of you never knowing what it meant even if he did was a blockage in his path that even himself as the God of Contracts didn't know how to get around of.

Suddenly the air was a little too thick.

“Mister Zhongli,” a languid voice calls out to him from behind.

He turns and sees the last person he expected to see that unforgiving winter night.

TBC (?)

----------

This had already gone a tad too long and it's been days since Zhongli's birthday had passed and so I decided to cut this short.

Fanart, imagine © Yours Truly

Zhongli, Genshin Impact © miHoYo

[barnesandco]

Plzplzplzzzzz can you write a buckyxdeaf reader imagine, I just got my hearing aids after being diagnosed as moderate deaf a few months ago and there’s not enough of them imagines!!🥺 where reader gets her hearing aids or gets insecure about her deafness

Relearning

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: One very short allusion to the Winter Soldier. Insecurities about disabilities. Brief mention of a supporting character’s nightmares.

A/N: Thank you again for thinking of me for this request, nonny. I hope I was able to provide what you wanted. 

They day they arrive, your face falls like a confirmation of your worst anticipations. Hearing aids, as small and inconspicuous as possible, hidden if you close the fist you hold then in, lie on your palm, unassuming. Bucky's the only one who reads the tension in the hard way you've set you shoulders, and makes some indications to Steve that he picks up on immediately and clears out the common area. Nobody was staring in the first place -- only Tony had come up to the two of you at the chess table with the case in hand -- but Bucky knows you need your space, your time. He doesn't expect you to seek that distance away from him, too.

When the area is empty, you sit with Bucky's hand over one tightly clenched fist laid on the table, almost drawing blood, the other shaking furiously. He rises from his side to make his way to you, and you stand, too. But before he can get to you, you leave. Hearing aids in hand and tears barely held back, while Bucky feels as helpless as he ever has.

-----

Going back to his room, he thinks of when it all began. The explosion in Belarus a year ago, just before he could work up the courage to ask you out. The blast impaired your hearing and you started lip reading, made sure nobody approached you from behind. Refused to let Bucky learn sign language for your sake because you were convinced it would get better soon, even though he knew you were learning it yourself. Only, it didn’t, and the doctor’s appointments reinforced that idea, wrote it in concrete, and you tried to live with it regardless.

Naturally, you had to relent to medical opinion at some point, and you underwent further testing and Tony starting working on your hearing aids alongside a biomedical engineer from MIT named Hailey. This was the destination, and he suspected it would be hard to come to terms with, but he wished he had prepared for it better. If only he knew what to do.

-----

It takes you a full day to leave your room. The only reason Bucky doesn't break down your door is because Friday told him you're still eating.

When you emerge, it is a Saturday morning. Exercise hour. The morning is golden and yellow-green against the backdrop of the grounds the Sun has just risen over. Summer has sunk deep enough into early May's bones that the temperature is lukewarm.

He's hidden in the breakfast nook in the kitchen wearing ridiculous sheep patterned sweatpants -- Wanda's idea of a gag gift -- having opted out of the gym in hopes that you might reappear, and you do. Eyes bloodshot and red-rimmed, ethereal radiance dimmed but he accepts you to be the most wondrous person he knows even now.

Especially now, when you are hopefully able to utilize the sense that used to be impaired. The hearing aids look unusual on you, but only the way in which new things do. Something you do not recognize but are prepared to learn.

He watches you ready your breakfast. A couple of Wanda's blueberry muffins and jasmine tea. You love tea and he loves you. The crinkle in your nose, that he has missed so, as you wait for the water to boil. An itch behind your ear -- a new gesture, but just as endearing -- while the kettle simmers and hisses.

Still unaware of his presence, with your eyes focused elsewhere and ears not quite tuned to their aids, you sit at the kitchen island facing the window, the grass lawns, the fresh air seeping in through the opening. He watches you relish the morning on your face, your closed eyes and the curve of your lips loose and relaxed instead of in a frown like he last saw it. The moment is as still as ice, your forms frozen in glacier time, and Bucky, for all his hatred of the cold, would gladly stay in it if you'll let him be this close to you.

His own limbs release the stress in his shoulders slowly, springs unwinding in his marrow with creaks audible to his mind, and he  breathes a little slower, more naturally, more at ease now that you are here. His life vein, his gentle love.

The muffins are consumed slowly, your tongue peeking out to lick the last of their taste from your lips, the way Wanda's baking deserves to be savored. You nurse your tea in your hands for a long time, trying to take all the heat you can through the porcelain. Your fingers are always cold, Bucky knows. He has had too many tangled-bedsheet mornings, with your hands offering enough weight for him to feel but never enough for his skin to warm yours.

For a second, in between one rustle of the leaves in the border trees and the next, he forgets where he is, and loses himself in the memory of pressing your hands to his neck, letting you warm yourself by his collarbone and relishing in the hot goosebumps elicited by the movement of your hands down his abdomen.

But then you put your mug in the sink, and on instinct, Bucky rises and calls your name. Loud enough that he knows you'll hear him, but soft enough not to startle you. Everything is a delicate balance with you, a see-saw he is more than happy to keep in the air for you.

You're surprised to see him there, and you start to turn away, but Bucky speaks again.

"Please. Please, honey. Don't turn away," he pleads to your crestfallen expression, heart tearing at the seams. You need to understand that he is not going to give up on you for this, just like you've never turned away his metal arm.

Your hoarse voice, tired and sad in equal measure, says "Sorry." And you leave, again.

-----

Bucky does the only thing he can think of. He goes to Clint. The archer’s Bed-Stuy apartment emits sounds of vacuum cleaning and Bucky rings the bell twice before calling him. His phone bell is paired with his hearing aids, so he answers quickly, and lets Bucky in.

“You’re... cleaning,” Bucky states in a questioning voice, looking around at the apartment he has never seen in such a clean condition previously.

Clint clears his throat uncomfortably as he heads to the kitchen. “Yeah, Nat wanted to stay over for a bit and you know her...” he says with his face in the fridge, rummaging for Coca Cola, and indeed, Bucky does know. He knows of her clean-freak tendencies and the spate of nightmares she’s been having that might induce her to seek Clint’s comfort from the new, bad memories a mission in Moscow last month dredged up.

“So, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Clint asks pleasantly, forcing away the sympathetic sorrow in both of their minds.

Bucky blanches. He isn’t here for pleasantries, but he’s sure Clint will understand. “Could you teach me sign language?” Bucky asks back, and watches Clint consider the question. Clint knows about the recent arrival of your hearing aids, and your consequent insecurities. 

“Of course,” is the answer, and Bucky breathes a sigh of relief. Looks forward to learning something new. Something to bring him closer to you again.

-----

Bucky spends a month with his heart aching whenever you pass by him, thankfully no longer hiding away but still refusing to let him in, and he tries to invest his energy into showing you he loves you still, loves you always, and he does not think any lesser of you. 

Clint is patient. It takes Bucky’s hands a while to get used to the smooth, elegant flow of fingers to fist, to shape, to mold into meaning because he is so used to using his words. All that time with the mask has made him grateful for every letter he gets the chance to utter, but he will gladly give it up for you. If this sacred tongue that involves no tongue at all, that relays meaning through the extension of his forefinger, thumb and pinky from a fist -- love -- and the hand over his face -- beautiful -- and two peace signs joined at the top -- partner -- is what it takes to be yours, he’ll practise till you smile again.

-----

It takes another month for you to sit across from him at the chess table he has been waiting at since your hearing aids arrive. You hesitate by your chair. Bucky lifts his hands.¨

Flat right hand over the center of his chest. Clockwise arc. Please.

Thank you. Your fingers go from touching your lips to bringing your hand forth in a flat palm in front of him. Once you’ve sat down, Bucky rolls out the chess pieces, and you set them up.

Bucky watches you with scared scrutiny, praying for no wrong moves. Once the pieces are set up, you make your move, and then wait for Bucky. I love you, he signs, while the hubbub of the common area falls away. The world is silent save for the screaming brightness of your face. His only melody. His quiet choir. His silent muse.

I love you, too, you sign, and reach across the table to take his hand. Your smile is shaking, like it’s holding the weight of worlds, and Bucky takes the burdens away, leaning across to kiss your lips. The moment is a bubble of wonder, of marvellous adoration, where the air holds its breath. Your hands find Bucky’s hair as his come up to cradle your jaw gently. A metal finger traces over a hearing aid while his thumb strokes over your cheekbone. Stronger smiles form against each other’s lips. This is what home feels like. 

[randomlonelymusician]

Random Levi and Erwin Thoughts

It was a day of sorrows that changed Levi’s life forever. On a stormy day in 844, Levi’s friends — who were almost like his siblings — died while trying to assasinate Erwin. It left Levi angry, but most of all, broken.

I remember reading the manga for Levi’s backstory and watching as he confronted Erwin against the gloomy backdrop. And when Erwin told Levi humanity needed him as the sun began to peek through the clouds…

I think what I love about their relationship is that it isn’t a picture-perfect romance or friendship. It’s flawed, just like the characters. It took time to build, especially with the original feelings Levi had toward Erwin. It feels honest.

I wonder what Levi thinks of that day he confronted Erwin now. It kind of reminds me of the song “The Reluctant Heroes” from the SnK soundtrack.

“Remember the day of grief

Now it's strange for me

I could see your face

I could hear your voice…”

Maybe he views it as a turning point.

“Remember the day we met

It's painful for me

Because nobody wants to die too fast

Remember a day we dreamt

It's painful for me

I could see your face

I could hear your voice…”

Maybe it’s a bittersweet day for him.

A moment between them that I always liked was when Levi finally found out the truth about Erwin’s goals. Before this, Levi viewed Erwin as a flawed man, of course, but also a man with a selfless goal. He admired this about him; his goals were his original reasons to follow him.

When Levi found out, he was angry, of course. But he still accepted this selfish side of Erwin and stuck with him.  

Return to Shiganshina was one of my favorite points in their relationship because of how much emotion it displayed from both characters. I was an anime-only at the time the RtS arc was adapted, so that was really when I started to notice something special between these two. I remember questioning why Levi was so attached to Erwin. Sure, I knew they were friends, but this? This was different.

After Erwin’s charge towards death and the recovery of his wounded body, I was overwhelmed by the sheer emotions Levi displayed. It was so strange to see a man who usually had a cold expression on his face look so… broken? Conflicted? Hurt? I don’t know how to describe it.

I don’t know exactly how I feel about Erwin dying on a Shiganshina rooftop just moments away from fulfilling his dream. Levi was definitely thinking more with his heart while he made that decision… but it may have been for the best. Without a dream to push Erwin forward, he’d be forced to face reality. And he’d be weighed down by the guilt of letting so many people die for his cause.

I remember when Erwin thanked Levi in the manga. That’s all I have to say about that.

I think Levi and Erwin’s relationship was very special. I loved seeing a mature relationship between two adult men who deeply loved and cared about each other, especially in the grim setting of SnK. It felt real. I wonder how much heartbreak Levi endured after Erwin’s death. I wonder how he dealt with it. Did he cry in private? Did he bundle up his emotions until the very end? Or did he never really move on?

Can he ever let go?

I’m glad Levi had Erwin in his life. He shaped his character, his future, and him as a person. And thought Levi has lost so many important people to him, I’m still happy he had them for that brief amount of time.

Those small moments can last a lifetime, can’t they?

[ichika27]

OnS Chapter 106

Well... this chapter is making me ask questions lol. At last though, we’re back to seeing what Mika is doing but is also continuing from where the previous chapter left off. So many things happening at once.

The 2nd Progenitor Rigr Stafford vs. 3rd Progenitor Lest Karr and 5th Progenitor Ky Luc. Lest is having trouble and is worried due to facing a 2nd progenitor while his companion Ky is enjoying himself and feels confident he could win against a their enemy. Rigr realizes in the middle of battle that Ky is probably Urd's right hand man since Ky's ability surpasses that of a regular 5th progenitor.

Rigr aims at Ky's eye. Ky realizes he can't dodge it anyways so he just went straight ahead to land an attack himself. Now the two of them are too connected to each other which worried Lest since he's about to use a lightning attack. Ky just tells him to go for it.

Ky gives his sword as much blood as he could give to make sure Rigr couldn't get away when Lest uses Heaven's Fan. When the attack is done, Ky sustained a lot of injuries.

It seems the attack had worked and had injured the 2nd progenitor as well. I felt pretty suspicious at this moment cause there’s no way these two could easily beat a 2nd progenitor. Plus Rigr wasn’t really that worried despite saying so cause he doesn’t always mean what he tells them. I thought there must be a trick.

2nd Progenitor Urd Geales finally makes an appearance! Lest tells him of what had transpired and Urd isn't amused and tells him that it's impossible for a vampire to escape the cell (he made it so himself). He then tells Rigr to stop messing with his subordinates.

With a clap of the hands, Rigr is back in the cell. Rigr reveals that the entire fight was nothing but an illusion that he learned from humans. lol I knew there was a trick but I didn’t think it was all an illusion. I thought he’d easily regenerate or something.

You know what, Rigr’s teasing nature and laid-back attitude in the middle of battle reminds me of Ferid. They might not be blood-related but he is the one who turned Ferid into a vampire so it’s close.

The two former friends have a little reunion. Ky apologizes for the trouble but Urd tells him it wasn't his fault as Rigr is of a higher rank and can't be helped.

It seems he still cares...

Rigr asks Urd what the latter has in store for him and Urd says that if Rigr doesn't answer his questions, he might just kill him. Urd asks what Rigr’s plan is and Rigr tells him that his revenge plan against the 1st Progenitor hasn't changed yet after all these years so there’s nothing to say.

Urd says that in betraying the 1st, Rigr had also betrayed him and Rigr offered to be killed. He mentions he hasn't forgotten about Urd and has thought about him everyday when they were separated.

I’m sorry... these lines are getting to me. They must’ve been really close friends for them to be this way with each other. They kinda remind me of Mika and Yuu in a way except these two sort of became rivals or something.

Urd then asked Rigr about this revenge plan and how it's going.

I’m guessing the original question is asking about what the plan is specifically but it’s changed to asking if it’s going well. I wonder if Urd had realized what it might be before asking?

Meanwhile, Mika is still inside Yuu's heart. In front of him is a strange eye and he's trying to figure out what this one is exactly.

Mika touches the eye to peek into what's in it. He's then transported to this strange place and in each of the containers inside is an eyeball each. Mika finds himself possessing one of these eyeballs.

I’m sure I wasn’t the only one who recognized this from the Ancient Greece flashbacks several chapters ago.

It’s tiny Yuu-chan! It confirmed that this is Mikaela's room from back in Greece thousands of years ago from the flashbacks. Yuu visits here many times to try and wake up the "sleeping" Mika inside the glass. This is probably a later scenario from Ashera’s flashbacks cause this Yuu isn’t borderline emotionless and acts like an excitable child unlike the Yuu that Ashera first met.

Noya tells him it's pointless as Mika is dead but Yuu tells him that Mika will certainly wake up. It's Yuu's job to wake him after all. Noya comments that Yuu's exact duty is to be the sacrifice to awaken Mika. Yuu didn't hear this and continues to call Mika which annoyed Noya enough and in the end, Yuu was killed.

Okay, so I don’t remember if Yuu had been calling Sika Madu “Father” from before or if this is some new development because I think he just called him “Master” back then? Also, I guess this means Yuu and Mika are connected more deeply than we thought. I wonder how Yuu would be sacrificed.

Noya then uses one of the eyeballs and turned it into another Yuu. The new Yuu could talk but knows nothing. He kept asking so many questions that Noya got annoyed again and killed this one, too. Ashera tells him that it's not right and Noya just says that he just has to get used to it. Plus no one would notice how many had been killed if they made another Yuu.

We’re finally shown how they make Yuu-chan clones. I wonder what changed or how this is done as the new Yuu clone acts like the previous one: loud and excited. He’s totally not like the Yuu that Ashera met who is quiet and sort of emotionless. I thought they would start out like that quiet Yuu first and then learn to be normal but it seems the clones are more like the new version of Yuu.

The next Yuu Noya had created is the one Mika is currently possessing. Of course, this “Yuu” wouldn’t act the same as the others since Mika is possessing it. Noya didn’t question this or at least, he seems to not and just leaves this Yuu be.

So either he’s just faking and realized that there’s something really different (as that look is suggesting) or the personality of the Yuu-chan clones differ from one another that this is a possibility. Also, since Yuu-chan is a clone, who was he cloned from? Was there an original Yuu-chan? What was he then? So many questions...

The 1st Progenitor and the others have arrived. Raimei scolds the kids for entering the room without permission but Byakko just tells her to go easy on them as they're just kids.

The group (minus the 1st Progenitor) looks like their demon selves: from the outfits to the horns). Does this mean they’ve been turned to demons at this point? Also, Byakko’s personality doesn’t look as serious as he seems as he currently is as Byakkomaru. By the way, I don’t think I’ve ever heard their original names being used so not sure if these are right. I got them from the wiki when I was looking at the correct name spellings for the other characters.

Back to the present, Rigr offers Urd the choice to join him in revenge. Rigr tells them that his preparations are ready and apologizes for taking too long with it. He asks Urd if the latter has any hostages and it's revealed that the people Urd was carrying earlier are Shinya and Kureto and so Rigr asked about their demons (which are their former vampire companions).

This is making me wonder what Urd’s plan is. At first of course I thought he’s asking Rigr about this revenge thing cause he wants to know if he could stop it or change Rigr’s mind. But now I’m confused cause the way he’s asking seems like he’s... interested? And Rigr asked about hostages which Urd already has and coincidentally (or not...?) they are Shinya and Kureto who are the contractors of Byakkomaru and Raimeiki. Rigr even asked about the demons.

Like if Urd turned out to switch sides and becomes Rigr’s ally, I don’t think I’d be surprised. The current arc is just everybody switching sides and backstabbing everyone else or having ulterior motives in the stuff they do. How many opposing groups do we even have now lol.

Switching back to the past, Mika continues to observe the others through the clone Yuu. Sika Madu seem to have realized what he really is though and addresses him directly.

I’m betting this is the real Sika Madu cause he’s already left Shinoa. Plus if his other demon companions could go to another demon’s world, there’s no doubt he could do it, too since he’s the most powerful of them all.

Sika Madu tries to put Mika to sleep. A struggling Mika hears Yuu's voice telling him that in order to escape they must work together. If they devour one another, Mika would become Yuu's demon. As Sika Madu continues to use his powers on Mika, Mika finally accepts and lets himself become Yuu's demon.

--

Finally! I guess if this goes well (which there’s a high chance this would go well unless the author decides to prolong the drama), Mika would finally become a demon weapon. it’s also another sword if I remember correctly. I wonder if Yuu will use it now that Asuramaru can’t be trusted? Speaking of which, I suddenly remembered the cover art for one of Owari no Seraph’s artbooks wherein Yuu is shown with his sword and the reflection in it is Mika. Foreshadowing or coincidence? Probably coincidence since it’s the reverse in another artbook. Still it’s cool.

The Vampire side of the story is slowly connecting to the protagonists’ side of the story. It looks like whatever it is that Rigr is planning, it’ll involve the demons residing in a majority of the main casts’ weapons. They’d cross paths sooner or later.

Shinya and Kureto got caught but where are the others? Where are the rest of Guren’s squad? I wonder who the demons are that’s inside of the weapons of the others...

I’m still sad they chose not to use the nickname Mika had for Yuu. “Yuu-chan” is distinctly Mika’s nickname for him (it’s even Mika’s favorite phrase according to one of the fanbooks haha). Plus since they never use any honorifics for the way everyone else calls Yuu (Yoichi’s “Yuu-kun” and Shinoa’s “Yuu-san” are just “Yuu/Yu” now), there’s no difference. Mika calling Yuu by a specific nickname even became a plot point when one of the human soldiers trusted Mika because of how he calls Yuu. Like, I get why they’re not using honorifics in the official translation but it’s still a shame. Now everytime I see Mika call Yuu or refer to Yuu, my mind fills in the missing honorific. It will always be “Yuu-chan” to me.

Anyways, the last page of this chapter never said when the next one would come out. I wonder why? I’m hoping it’s not a hiatus but it can’t be helped if it is. I’m kinda excited for what’s to come next. I wonder what happened to everyone else? Are we ever gonna get POVs from them or are they also just left to the side since they’re not part of the main conflict? I mean they seemed to have completely dropped Narumi since I haven’t seen him in a while.

Thanks for reading this if you did!

[inkyhorror]

The installment of Trust Exercise is taking longer than expected because the first draft wasn’t quite the tone I was looking for. In the interim I wrote and edited this. It didn’t turn out quite like I wanted but at this point I’m a little tired of looking at it. Posted here and on AO3.

Touch Starved

Warnings: None

Pairings: MC/Diavolo

Word Count: 1408

The distant roll of thunder gently pulls you from your slumber. You bury your face in the pillow and let out a groan, taking a few moments to listen as another low rumble reaches your ears. Face still firmly planted in your pillow, you swat lazily at the space next to you in search of your DDD. Upon finding it you peek out and press the ON button. You immediately regret your decision. The light from the screen blinds you and you have to take a moment to let your eyes adjust. Checking the time you realize it is nearly 4 in the morning. Way too early to be awake. 

A sudden flash of lightning illuminates the room, drawing your eyes to the open balcony doors. You push yourself up on your elbows and squint in the darkness to get a better look. There is a figure on the balcony silhouetted by the dim light of the outside world. Whoever it is is tall and muscular, their hands braced against the railings as they stand with their back towards you watching the rain fall. It only takes you a second to recognize it as Lord Diavolo. The demon prince had invited everyone to spend another weekend at the royal palace and through pure luck you had ended up rooming with Lucifer and Diavolo, much to Mammon’s displeasure. A quick glance revealed that Lucifer was still fast asleep in his own bed. With a sigh you drag yourself out of bed and join Lord Diavolo on the balcony. 

“Relaxing, isn’t it?” He does not look at you as he speaks. 

“Yeah, it is. I think this is the first time I’ve seen it rain here in the Devildom.” You walk up next to him and lean forward to rest your elbows on the railing. 

“Yes. It doesn't rain here very often. This is quite a treat.” He smiles serenely as he continues to watch the falling rain. You hum in acknowledgement of his answer and the two of you fall silent as another flash of lightning arcs across the sky. You shift your weight from one leg to the other and accidentally bump into him. Diavolo flinches and pulls away from your touch. His sudden reaction startles you. 

“Sorry! I’m so sorry Lord Diavolo, I didn’t mean to do that.” You straighten up and take a half step away from him, suddenly nervous that you have done something to make him uncomfortable. 

“No! It’s fine, really.” He flashes you an apologetic smile before turning away quickly. You swear that you can see a tinge of pink in his cheeks even in the dark room. “You know, there’s really no need to speak so formally around me.“ A sharp laugh escapes you before you are able to suppress it. Diavolo shoots you a puzzled look. 

“I was under the impression that if i didn’t address you by your full title Lucifer would quite literally murder me.” Diavolo blinks. Once the sarcasm of your response registers he chuckles, a deep sound that you can almost feel reverberate through the air. 

“He’s always so protective. If I’m honest I sometimes wish he would lighten up just a little. Maybe then people would be less hesitant to approach me.” His honestly catches you completely off guard. In all your time in the Devildom you would ever have expected to hear Lord Diavolo speak ill about his closest friend. He seems to suddenly realize what he said and clears his throat to dispel the tension. 

“You’ve mentioned that before. About the other demons being too scared to talk to you. Is it really that lonely for you?” 

“It can be, yes.” He closes his eyes and sighs heavily. You are not sure how to respond. You have not spent as much time with the Demon Prince as you have with the brothers but over time you have come to find his presence quite comforting. Despite his size and status the man is genuinely kind. Without thinking you reach out and place your hand on his. He flinches once again but does not pull away.

“You know, humans have this thing where we crave physical contact.” You lean into him, pressing your shoulder against his arm. It is quiet, but you swear you can hear him gasp. “It can be anything from hugs to hand shakes, but we seek contact with others” With your free hand, you run your fingers lightly up and down his forearm. Diavolo shudders. “If we don’t have enough of it we can start to feel sad, lonely, isolated.” When you pull away from him you hear him whimper quietly. Glancing up you catch the sad, pleading look in his eyes. You reach up and stroke his cheek. He presses into your palm, desperately seeking more contact. Closing his eyes and sighing as he savors your touch. “I wonder if it’s the same for demons.” 

“Yes, I think it might be.” He sighs. This level of vulnerability is so uncommon for the demon prince. It makes your chest ache to see him so sad, so desperate for any form of physical affection. You glance over to Lucifer’s bed once more. Still asleep. Good. 

“Lord Diavolo, if you’re ever feeling lonely you can always call on me. It doesn't have to be a special occasion. We could watch movies or just sit together while you work. I know I’m not anyone special, but I would love to spend more time with you.” Your voice is even and your words are sincere. His eyes well up with tears and he takes a shaky breath. It takes him a minute to collect himself enough to respond. 

“I would love that. Thank you. However, can I ask for one more favor?” You tilt your head quizzically. “Please don't use my full title, not when it's just the two of us.” You glance nervously in Lucifer's direction. Diavolo notices and follows your line of sight. “I won't tell him if you wont.” You consider his request for a moment then nod in affirmation.

“Alright, deal.” You hold out your hand and extend your pinky. Diavolo is only vaguely familiar with the concept of a pinky promise, such silly human rituals. He hooks his pinky with yours and with that you are both sworn to secrecy.

“It’s pretty late, we really should get back to sleep.” As if to emphasize your point you are overtaken by a yawn. Diavolo nods and the two of you reenter your shared room and he closes the balcony doors behind you. As you begin to walk to your bed Doavolo catches your arm to stop you. When you look back at him he looks uncharacteristically shy, head turned away and eyes averted.

“Would you... Um... Would you mind terribly if I slept next to you? I wouldn't want to trouble you if you don’t want to. It’s just that these beds are so big it can get a little…” He lets his sentence trail off. The request is a little shocking to say the least, but given your previous conversation you do not have it in you to deny him this one indulgence. 

“Of course, Dia. It's no trouble at all.” A look of surprise crosses his face. It is quickly replaced by a look of utter delight.

“You called me Dia, is that my nickname?” You are suddenly very aware that this might be the prince's first time being given a nickname. He looks absolutely ecstatic. 

“Only if you like it.” He nods enthusiastically.

“I do! Thank you!” He takes your hand and pulls you deeper into the room “We should sleep, I have a big day planned for all of us tomorrow and I want you rested up.” He leads you to his bed and lays down, gesturing for you to join him. You try to keep some distance between the two of you as you lay down, however Diavolos weight creates an indent in the soft mattress that pulls you towards him like a black hole. Accepting your fate you sigh and snuggle closer to his chest, feeling his strong arms wrap around you.

“Goodnight. Sleep well.” Pressed against him as you are his words are more of a rumble in his chest and as actual sounds reaching your ears.

“Goodnight Dia. Sweet dreams.” You feel his embrace tighten as the two of you drift off into sleep. 

AN: I cannot help but imagine that in the morning Lucifer is just standing at the foot of their bed staring disapprovingly. He’s gonna give MC one hell of a lecture once he gets them back to the House of Lamentation.