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a-reader-and-a-writer · 4 months ago

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Your Storm is My Storm

Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader Summary: Is it possible to have trauma from an event you didn't actually experience? You never thought so, but now you are tormented nightly after witnessing Tyler's near death. Luckily, he's there to comfort you and remind you that he made it back to you, and that he's not going anywhere. Word Count: 1976 TW: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Death (but not really), Dealing with PTSD, Storm-Related Peril Notes: Huge thank you to @blue-aconite for encouraging me and reading this over, and to @mayhem24-7forever for reminding me to stop doubting myself and just write it already 💕

Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)

You are standing in the middle of a vast grass field wearing a white cotton dress that billows wildly in the increasing wind. Across the field heading in your direction, you see an oh-so-familiar red Dodge Ram bucking and crashing over the uneven dirt. Even though you are several hundred feet away and the wind whips around with a deafening roar, you hear Tyler whooping loudly, the joyful sound as clear as day in your ears.

Then, suddenly, you are in the backseat of the truck, watching as Boone leans back to get a better angle of Tyler with his camera. Shifting his focus away from the plain in front of him for a minute, Tyler looks at Boone and gives another rowdy shout before clicking a button on the dashboard. The truck bolts forward at a break-neck speed, heading directly for the dark swirling funnel forming in front of them.

You try to warn them, to call out and tell them to turn around before it’s too late, but even though you can feel the screams tearing at your throat, not a sound passes from your lips. You lean forward and pull at Tyler’s arm, your fingers digging into his sleeve so deeply that you are sure you are tearing into his skin, silently pleading, begging him to stop. And yet he doesn’t react.

Tears are streaming down your face as the truck nears the tornado and skids to a stop. The edge of the storm is licking at the front bumper. Tyler grins at Boone, giving a quick wink to the camera, and says, “Here we go!”

He reaches forward and flips a switch on the center console—and nothing happens.

For a moment, that cocky grin stays on Tyler’s face but then the realization of what didn’t happen snaps his attention back to the switch. He jiggles it a few times but still nothing. The storm is even closer now, the entire vehicle shaking as the intensity of the winds grows.

Tyler glances at his co-pilot. “Boone…the augers aren’t going down.”

Boone lowers the camera, an instant sign that something is wrong. Though the feed is still live, the shot now only shows the steering wheel and out the windshield of the truck. Occasionally, Tyler’s hands pop into frame as he frantically tries to get the switch to work. Even from your place in the back seat, Boone and Tyler’s voices can barely be heard over the roar of the wind but their tones are panicked and tense. Nothing they are doing gets the augers to work and by this point they are too close to the storm to drive out of it. You squeeze your eyes closed, cover your ears with your hands, and curl up in your seat—you can’t watch what happens next. Not again.

Just as the wall of wind passes over the grille of the truck and the front tires raise slightly off the ground, Tyler grabs the camera from Boone’s lap and turns it towards his face. His usually bronzed skin is pale in the growing darkness and there is a fear in his eyes that has never been there before while chasing a storm. Yelling loudly to be heard over the roar of the wind, he screams, “Baby, if you’re watching this, I love you with everything in me, and I’m so sorr—”

He is interrupted as the truck tilts backward 90 degrees and the camera slips from his hands, flying past you and smashing into the back window, cracking them both. The last thing the camera streams is the sound of Tyler and Boone’s screams.

In the blink of an eye, you are once again standing in the field far from the truck. It is now lying upside-down and, for a brief moment, you see Tyler struggling to drag himself out of the driver’s side window, one arm hanging limp and useless at his side. He raises his head, blood streaming down one side of his face, and, somehow, his eyes find yours across the distance.

Then the truck explodes and Tyler disappears into a ball of fire and smoke.

“NO!” you wail, sound finally bursting from your mouth only to be lost in the blast of the explosion. Tears stream down your face as you collapse to your hands and knees, your forehead pressing into the wet dirt. The heat from the fire washes over you and you struggle to breathe as your sobs rattle in your chest and the smoke fills your lungs but it doesn’t matter. Nothing matters anymore.

Lifting your head, you blink through your tears and the smoke. When they clear, you see the twisted metal frame of the truck and the skeletal, charred remains of the man that you loved.

You let out a blood-curdling shriek—

“Hey, hey, baby…..” Hands grab at you, trying to hold you down as you thrash wildly. Another anguished scream rips from your lips even as you hear a voice pleading with you, “Wake up…please. Baby, it’s okay. I’m alright—we’re both alright. I promise. I’m here. Just please wake up for me.”

The voice finally breaks through the storm of emotions raging through your mind, and as you recognize it, your eyes shoot open to see a face you thought you’d never see again looming over you. “T-Tyler…” you manage to breathe, your lip quivering in disbelief as you reach up, fingers brushing against his mouth.

He nods, pursing his lips to kiss your fingertips, some of the desperation and fear on his face melting into relief as he runs his hand over the top of your hair. “Shhh, it’s okay. You just had the dream again.”

“W-what?”

As your eyes begin to adjust to the darkness, you see that you are lying on your bed in the apartment you shared with Tyler back in Arkansas. You aren’t in Oklahoma. There is no tornado. Tyler is alive and well.

It had all been a dream……but the problem was, that’s only partially true.

Last month, the auger system on Tyler’s truck had failed and Tyler and Boone were caught in the storm as the truck flipped over. However, the truck, thankfully, hadn’t exploded like in your dream. Tyler had fractured his arm and got a shallow gash on his head while Boone had broken his nose, but otherwise, the two had walked away from the incident relatively unharmed.

However, the same couldn’t be said for you. While you hadn’t been with them in person, you had been watching the Storm Wrangler’s live feed as everything happened and that experience alone had been enough to cause these nearly nightly terrors. That moment when the camera had broken and the last thing you heard was Tyler screaming in fear and pain had been the most horrible moment of your life, one which dragged out for several hours until Tyler could reach you and confirm he was alright. And now you were being forced to relive it night after night after night.

Alternating waves of relief, exhaustion, and despair begin to wash over you. Though you had been momentarily comforted seeing Tyler’s face, the reminder that you are caught in this seemingly neverending torture loop causes tears to once again begin streaming down your face.

After weeks of going through the same cycle of you waking up terrified only to realize what was happening, Tyler is used to this reaction. He murmurs, “Come here, baby,” before scooping you into his arms and holding you tightly against him.

You rest your head against his bare chest, but the steady beat of his heart that had once brought you such comfort and calm now only serves as a reminder that you had watched him die over and over again. It hadn’t been real, yet you felt that loss at the moment, and that pain still hung over you like a shroud even as you lay wrapped in his arms.

“Ty, I can’t do this anymore,” you whimper, your fingers digging into his arm which only brings you back to the moment in your dream you begged him to turn the truck around. “I can't sleep and those pills the doctor gave me aren't helping. Every time I close my eyes I see you—” You break down into a sob, burying your face deeper into his chest as that horrific last image of Tyler from your dream flashes in your mind.

You can feel him taking a few, deep, shuddering breaths and it breaks your heart as you realize he’s trying to keep himself from breaking down from seeing you like this. He was the one who actually went through the near-death experience, and yet here he was comforting you every night. It wasn’t fair–to either of you–and you wonder how much more he will take before he throws in the towel, leaving you to face this on your own. Honestly, part of you is surprised he hasn’t left yet.

But he’s here tonight. And as he presses his lips to the top of your head, he whispers, “God, baby, I'm so sorry.”

Shaking your head against his chest, you cry, “It's not your fault.”

“The hell it isn't.”

You shake your head again. “You've told me not to watch your live stuff just in case something like this happened. It was my fault–”

“No,” Tyler stops you, grasping your damp cheeks between his calloused palms and tilting your head to face his. Oddly, the rough skin of his hands feels soothing, familiar, and you start to feel more grounded in the reality of the moment. For the first time tonight, you feel the dream starting to lose its hold on you.

Rubbing his thumb softly across your cheekbone, he looks you straight in the eyes and firmly says, “No…None of this is your fault. I knew there had been problems with the augers but instead of waiting to test them, I went out anyway. What happened out there and how it's tormenting you is my fault and no one else’s. Do you understand me? You did nothing wrong.” You start to look away but he squeezes your face tighter, causing you to look back at him. “Tell me you know that.”

“I guess,” you whisper. Then, stronger, you say, “But Ty, it doesn’t matter. Whoever’s fault it was, or even if it was nobody’s fault, it doesn’t change the fact this keeps happening. And I don’t know how to live the rest of my life like this.”

“It won’t be the rest of your life. You’ll get past this, I promise,” he says, releasing your cheeks to run his hands across your shoulders and down your arms until he is holding your hands in his. Squeezing them tightly, he adds, “Eventually, every storm passes. We just have to hold on tight and don't give up until that happens.”

Your voice breaks as you ask, “...‘We’?”

“Yeah, of course ‘we’.” His eyes darken under a furrowed brow. “Wait…do you really think I’d let you go through this on your own?”

You shrug one shoulder. “It’s a lot. And it’s not your storm to weather.”

“Baby, your storm is my storm. And I’m going to hold you so tightly during it and never let you go, whatever it takes. Then once it passes—because it will given time—I’m still going to be right there next to you for whatever comes next.” He leans forward until his forehead is leaning against yours. “You’re never getting rid of me.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

You aren’t sure how long the two of you remain like that, hand-in-hand with heads pressed together. It could have been minutes, it could have been hours. But all you know is that Tyler is with you and, at least for tonight, that’s enough.

Eventually, in the darkness together, you whisper, “Let's go to sleep.”

Tagging a few people who might be interested: @green-socks, @mayhem24-7forever, @blue-aconite, @hederasgarden, @writercole, @ryebecca, @heart-0n-fire, @nerdysuperchick, @ohtobeleah, @slightly-psycho-multifan, @sunlightmurdock

#fic #twisters #twisters 2024 #tyler owens #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens x you #boone #hurt/comfort #hurt & comfort #angst #whump #near death experience tw #ptsd tw

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windichimes · 4 months ago

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ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ꜱᴄᴀʀᴀᴍᴏᴜᴄʜᴇ ʜᴄꜱ

warnings: yandere themes, unhealthy relationships, isolation

note: first post and first time writing for scaramouche!! i want to bite him he's so cute

art credit: mimochs (twitter)

Eons Adrift – Scaramouche

cruel, jealous, possessive

It doesn’t take the sixth harbinger long to come to the conclusion that you should be his — that no one other than him should lay a finger on you.

His possessiveness is an ugly thing. A stain on his perfect being. It’s unbecoming of him, too, not something someone like him should feel, and yet no matter how hard he tries to control himself, he can’t. When it comes to you, his meager self-restraint disappears. It’s a huge mess, really. He’s angry at himself for feeling this way, and angrier at you for being the cause of all of this. There’s a part of him that wants to destroy you for making him feel this way, a selfish and greedy part of him that wants to see your world slowly crumble until all you have left is him.

Being around him is isolating, you find your friends unwilling to hang out with you, your neighbors start to avert your gaze and close their curtains when they see you, and any romantic aspirations you have are all but gone.

When you confront him about it, you find that he doesn’t make any excuses for himself. He doesn’t lie, doesn’t soften the blow — he tells you the brutal, unfiltered truth, leaving you stunned as realization sinks in. He’s horrible. He has been from the start.

Despite his downright sadistic behavior at times, he has his softer moments, and sometimes, you’ll even wonder if the look he gives you is of kindness. You learn that such occasions increase significantly when you pay attention to him. Hold his hand and he’ll be at a loss, a flush creeping up on his skin. A kiss? He’s mentally choosing between gaslighting you into thinking he’s not blushing to vehemently denying how red his face is.

It's in your best interest to capitalize on these occasions as, chances are, he’ll let more things slip from your mouth when he is in a favorable mood. You’ll be much more likely to be met with a scowl followed by a sarcastic remark about how ‘annoying’ you are for trying to push any of his buttons rather than any more…brutal punishments.

Scaramouche falters for a brief moment when he feels your hand reach out to take his own — his wide-eyed gaze snapping to your eyes as you look at him with a bright smile. A flush is already creeping across his cheeks.

“You’re rather annoying.” He starts. There are countless words he wants to throw your way, words to truly capture the extent of his ‘disdain.’ Yet his tongue turns to mush at the very thought, and for a moment, he’s struck with the inability to think of any insulting phrases. You bring out the worst in him, so much so that he even loses the verbal bite he holds when speaking to others.

“Really? And here I was doing a random act of kindness for the day.” You blink innocently at him and begin to tug your hand away. The frown on his lips becomes more defined when you blink innocently at him and attempt to slip your way out of his firm grasp on your wrist, his fingers tightening against your skin in response. There’s a look of irritation on his face — not that he ever looks too pleased in the first place — as he pulls you closer to him.

“Don’t think you’re getting away so easily.” He grumbles under his breath (while deciding to ignore your delighted laugh and comments about how he’s ‘kind of cute,’ and sending you a withering glare when you add ‘but in the intimidating, sinister way!’)

It’s hard for Scaramouche to articulate what he feels for you, and while he initially settles on love, he’s still not completely sure what the emotion is. He reckons he's heard of the word a thousand times by now, and he can guess how people would describe it: a feeling that’s shared between silent gazes and cheerful laughter; a soft thing that's warm and tender, like fingers intertwining under dim moonlight.

Only, those saccharine words never seem to find themselves on his tongue.

For all he is, he is not human, and even with all the dramatic prose he’s heard about love, it’s easy for him to twist the sweet emotion with something much more bitter and obsessive, the sweetness of love never seeming to fit his own feelings. He's a puppet, a heartless husk grasping around you like a vice and refusing to ever let go. He wants you, and yearns to have you all to himself — you’re his and his only. He’ll eventually come to the conclusion that he doesn’t think what he feels is love. He doesn’t think such sweet words can encompass the depth of how he feels for you, but that’s wholly irrelevant. He's not fond of sweets anyways.

Scaramouche has no heart, but his soul is a glutton. By the time you realize this, it's far too late.

#windi.txt #genshin impact #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere scaramouche #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #yandere genshin #yandere scaramouche x reader #wanderer #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact imagines #i lvoe him sm 🩷😞😞

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sirdindjarin · 2 years ago

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The Concession - Din Djarin x f!Reader

gif from @rebeljyn 's gifset here

Din Djarin falls in love. Whoops.

The Savior / The Concession / The Choice (END)

AO3 Link

TAGS: S2 Din Djarin, "Who Did This to You?", P in V, Unprotected Sex w/o consequences because who likes those, m!Masturbation, Fluff, Pining, touch-starved!Din, helmet-less!Din, soft!Din, protective!Din, Grogu bein a sweet shit.

WARNINGS: Star Wars cursing/slang which I know annoys some people lmao, abusive shopkeepers.

A/N: "Shit" is Star Wars canon (thank you, Andor); Din is a groaner (Chapter 5 of TBOBF); & Din is a bit of a poet (thanks pledge to Bo-Katan in Chapter 23); I have cited my sources LOL.

"No," the Mandalorian snaps. "No droids."

A gloved hand flies to his holster and the rusty pit droids screech to a halt, beeping nervously.

Leaning against the frame of the Razor Crest, at the top of the boarding ramp, you roll your eyes at Din Djarin's back. His distaste for droids had been made clear to you the first time he'd stopped for parts.

Those droids had been considerably less polite about Din’s preference, and he had taken too much pleasure in enforcing it.

"Listen, buddy, they're my refueling dr-"

"Then I'll take my business elsewhere."

The attendant sighs loudly, glaring at the Mandalorian. The skinny, maroon male with a fin-shaped head rises from his chair behind his workshop desk. He walks toward a shaking pit droid and grabs the refueler.

"It'll cost you extra," the attendant's eye-stalks narrow at the bounty hunter.

Din comes to an agreement with the disgruntled worker, sullenly agreeing to a slightly higher rate.

As the Mandalorian keeps watch over his ship, your footsteps clang down the steep ramp, and you sidle up to him, saying, "We need some things. Ration packs are gone. And - don't tell him -" your voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, "But I think Grogu deserves a treat."

"He would agree with you.” Din’s elbow brushes your shoulder, and he realizes he’d leaned closer as you spoke.

You continue, “And you need something to relax.”

At that, Din’s helmet turns. “I do not.”

“You’re even more impatient than usual. You’re on an anti-droid campaign; the last time we stopped, you threatened to yank out one’s navigator circuits just for bumping your foot.” You look up at him, raising a teasing eyebrow.

The Mandalorian goes as still as one of those droids he had deactivated. His intimidating, T-shaped slit brands into your vision. Behind it, you know he’s boring holes into your face.

“Alright. Nothing for you, then.”

Your shoulders drop when you turn away from him, almost relieved to be out from underneath his piercing, hidden gaze.

The Mandalorian had paid you a few days before, and this was your first real opportunity to spend your own money. You can’t stop smiling, even as you place the kid in his white pod and stuff your pocket with your credits. Grogu is as excited as you are - giggling in his quiet way.

As you pass the statue of Din Djarin, he extends a closed fist. Obediently, you hold out your hand. The tan-hide fingers of his gloves open and credits fall, clinking. You look up questioningly at him.

“For the food. Your wages are not meant to be spent on communal necessities.”

Your lips curve into a lopsided, sweet smile that Din immediately commits to memory, and you nod.

Turning to Grogu, his fuzzy ears perked and eyes wide, you ask, “Ready, kid?”

***

The marketplace is huge. Stretching the length of the entire square, it’s busy for a planet this remote, but the size increases the options.

Grogu floats along beside you, and you keep one hand on the lip of the pod, just to be safe. The responsibility of the kid is the greatest charge you’ve ever been given, in more ways than one. Grogu often holds your hand or squeaks to get your attention to point at something glowing or stinky or flashing. His outright affection is a lamp to your lonely heart.

After visiting several vendors, you’ve resupplied what was necessary (with credits left over), and now you move on to something for Grogu. You’d be buying that with your own wages. Din could say whatever he liked, but what else do you have to spend your money on except the cute baby?

You walk past a booth advertising repair supplies, but when you realize it’s for clothing repair, something clicks in your brain. Grogu’s ears flop forward with your sudden stop. Your eyes run over the objects, and you select some, a smile splitting your face. You hope he will be pleased.

Several minutes later, Grogu makes a bah! sound, pointing at a live amphibian display. You’re pretty sure it’s a pet vendor, but the look on the kid’s face tells you he won’t take no for an answer. And maybe you should parent him - tell him no - but that’s Din’s job, not yours.

“Hi. How much for the frog eggs?” You politely ask the vendor, digging in your pocket for credits.

The bug-eyed lady tells you in a language you don’t speak, but she holds up three short tentacles on her hand. She pushes six eggs toward you, which you gratefully take and set in Grogu’s pod.

When you try to hand her the credits, she’s pushed out of the way by someone behind her. A man with a smushed nose yells in the same language the lady had spoken, and points away, clearly telling her to leave.

You watch warily, and once the woman has gone, the man turns to you.

“My apologies. The price is one credit per egg,” he simpers at you.

Disliking the hike in price, you move to return half of the eggs, but he protests, “Once the item has left my possession, they must be paid for.”

“But I can give them back to you,” you assert. “I’m not paying that much for frog eggs.”

His smushed nose twitches up like a feral Loth-wolf, “Yes, you are.”

"I'm not." You set three eggs back on the counter.

The man seizes your wrists, holding you in place. The crowded market is loud, but your indignant cry and the vendor's screamed accusation of theft cause several people to stop and watch.

You try to twist out of his hold, but his scaly skin tears at yours. The snarling vendor suddenly ceases making noise, and he releases your wrists to clutch at his throat. Shocked, your head snaps to the child.

Grogu has one little, three-fingered hand raised and curled.

“No!” You gasp, slamming the button on Grogu’s pod to close it. Far, far too many eyes watch.

The vendor, choking and sputtering, recovers quickly and lunges at you across the table. His hands grip your upper arms, but you wrench out of his hold. Hoping to draw all attention to yourself, you punch the vendor with all your might. The vendor stumbles.

“Never seen someone pretend to choke over three credits,” your lie is an incredibly lame one, but you hope it’s enough for passersby.

He clutches his jaw; his spat insult is garbled, and he begins to inch around the long table, trying to get a better shot at you.

You turn and walk away with as even a pace as you can manage. Running would make his accusation true. The crowd swallows the two of you up well, and you lengthen your stride.

But the vendor is regaining his volume. Nervously, you check over your shoulder. You jolt when Grogu’s pod bumps into your hip, then zooms away.

“No,” you yell again, grasping for the white vessel, but it comes to a hovering stop in front of a tall, silver man.

“Thank the Maker,” you sigh with relief. “We have to go.”

Din immediately notices the red ring of heat around your wrists and along your knuckles. He strides toward you. The closer he gets, the safer you feel - his protective aura slowly engulfing you.

Din grabs your forearm and examines your wrist. There’s a raw quality to your skin where the man’s abrasive hands had clamped down and twisted. After a moment, his face locks onto yours.

“Show me who did this."

Cold, calm, his words are a promise.

Confused by his reaction, and still so used to answering when asked a direct question, you wince over your shoulder. Din finally seems to hear the vendor shouting in the distance as he searches the crowd for a ‘thief’ and her ‘dangerous pet’. Din abruptly straightens and steps past you.

Running after him, you reach for his gloved hand, fingers sliding home. “Din, please; we need to go.”

The familiar contact makes him stop and turn to look at you. He says nothing, so you use the opportunity to explain.

“The ki- I made a scene, and it would be best if everyone forgot about it. A Mandalorian publicly roughing up the very same shopkeeper would give them more reason to gossip.”

Din Djarin frowns the longer you speak. He knows you’re right. The kid is far more important than his sudden anger. He nods curtly.

The man’s vicious insults about your likely occupation and parentage echo down the street and make Din’s lip curl. But for the sake of the child, he manages to turn back toward the Razor Crest. It’s only when he passes Grogu’s stationary pod that he realizes he’s still holding your hand, fingers loosely intertwined.

He gently flexes his hand, letting go.

____________________________________

As the Razor Crest speeds away from the planet, you smile. Vacuous and bone-chillingly cold, space is the worst. For most of your life, the inhospitable conditions had been worsened by your constant transport in the dark hold of some Creator-forsaken vessel.

But the cabin of the Mandalorian’s ship is warm and full of life, occupied by the kid's excited babbling and your semi-nervous laughter.

The kid waves his stubby arms in the Mandalorian’s lap as the Razor Crest dips and rises through a relatively calm asteroid field. Expertly maneuvering the expanse, Din Djarin has little motivation to do so except the smiles on his passengers’ faces. If you ask, he’ll tell you it’s a shortcut to the next system, which is only mostly untrue.

It’s been three months since Din collected the bounty on your former master. During that time, the Mandalorian had found one of the kid’s kind. A Jedi who could’ve taken Grogu, she declined the task. She told the bounty hunter of a place, a Seeing Stone, where Grogu could reach out for a Jedi master himself.

Though a week has passed since learning of the Stone, Din had yet to bring Grogu to it, instead taking a couple of jobs. The stoic Mandalorian won’t admit, especially to himself, that he’s reluctant to let the child go.

Reaching a lull in the slow-moving asteroids, Din draws the thruster back to stationary level, then looks down, his helmet nearly touching his breastplate, at the child still waving his short arms. Din turns his silver face to you questioningly.

Before he can speak, you joke, "I don’t want to learn to fly out here, if that's what you're about to ask.”

He shrugs with acceptance. Your eyebrows pinch in surprise, wondering if he’s playing along or serious.

“Okay, kid. We're done here,” he tenderly lifts Grogu and passes him to you.

Grogu makes a protesting sound and hides one of his hands inside his robe.

“Big, mean Mandalorian is no fun,” you mutter to the child teasingly. Grogu coos in agreement.

Din shakes his head and swivels back to the control panel, flipping switches and entering data. The kid catches your attention, triumphantly showcasing a small metal sphere from his robe. You press your lips together and wink, silently promising you won’t tell.

The Mandalorian’s gloved fingers run over his ship’s control panel like he’s conducting the Coruscant Orchestra, and then, suddenly, his right hand freezes in mid-air as he reaches for the thruster.

“Grogu,” Din growls, spinning in his chair.

You laugh openly, “He’s a toddler, Din. You can’t close your eyes for a second.”

The Mandalorian rises, his bulk taking up the entirety of the cabin. He gently wrestles the ball from Grogu's fingers.

Long, soft ears droop, and massive, black eyes turn glassy.

“Oh, look what you've done,” you croon, looking up at Din with an expression mirroring the kid’s.

Though he doesn't move, you can somehow see when Din’s annoyance is overruled by something stronger. Then the Mandalorian’s wide shoulders slowly rise and fall, a long-suffering sigh leaving his body.

“You are both menaces,” the Mandalorian accuses. He extends his hand, palm upward, “Grogu. Take it.”

You hold your breath, allowing the child to focus on using his power. Grogu closes his eyes. The metal ball wiggles in the concave of Din’s large palm, then zooms to Grogu’s tiny hand.

Din makes a fist in excitement, “Great job, kid.”

Beaming at the Mandalorian, even more enthralled with him than the magic child in your lap, you wish you could see his proud smile.

Noticing your expression, Din's chin swivels to the side, clearly questioning.

"Nothing. It's just that - it’s good to see you like this.” You shrug, trying to minimize your staring. “I know you’ve been stressed.”

The silent moment draws out as he assesses your observation. Still standing, the Mandalorian’s right hand hesitantly rises to whisper across the left side of your jaw. The gloved softness of his thumb caresses your cheekbone for an instant and a lifetime.

Din drops his hand like it weighs as much as a rancor. He turns around and sits back in his pilot's chair. Silver armor reflects the red and yellow lights around the cabin as he finishes his navigational procedures.

Cheeks aflame, you duck your face down into the kid.

___________________________________

“‘Occasional repairs,’’' you quote at the Mandalorian. “Every karking week there’s a new hole in this poor ship.”

On the other side of the wing, busy soldering panels together, the Mandalorian's head snaps up. Unmoving, his expressionless mask simply stares at you. You bite your lip to prevent a grin and continue replacing bolts.

The beskar helmet remains for a while longer, hiding Din’s thoughts. He imagines what you’d look like if he put you on your knees and made you pay for your jokes. If he wiped that pretty smirk off your face. He feels a stirring in his flight suit, so he wrenches his mind away.

The act the two of you committed in that field has not been repeated. His dedication to his helmet - to his creed - is paramount. And you tempt him too much.

For the second time in the past year, Din has accidentally grown attached to someone - first the kid and now you. But with you, it’s a danger of a different kind.

Din had hoped that he just needed to get it out of his system. Get you out of his system. He had won that mock fight in the field, but he had yielded to his desire for you.

Instead of feeling sated, Din feels hungrier as the days go by. Useless information, such as the number of sonic showers you've taken, clogs his mind. He would be ashamed of his counting, but he's too battle-weary to care. He does not count how many times he's taken advantage of the privacy of his bunk, remembering your eager face, your receptive body underneath him.

All that armor wasn't worth a damn thing.

It’s easier for you. As inexperienced as Din but with your self-esteem already in the sarlacc pit, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine he'd had his fill of you and… well, that was that. Though you dream of it nearly every night, waking up to the strange feeling of both gaining and losing something.

Of course, the Mandalorian still needed you to care for the kid or help him replace several wing panels when he inevitably damaged them, as you were currently doing.

At dusk, white trees sway behind you in the biting wind. This planet is rather cold, and Grogu, asleep inside the Razor Crest, doesn’t join you for the lovely, young Gornt dinner that Din had hunted. The two of you butcher it in silence and place it on the makeshift spit.

You then plop onto a log and snuggle down into your clothes, shivering. Though the items Din had given you months earlier are sturdy and warm, some of the chill of the night manages to seep through. You cross your arms, rubbing them.

Din vanishes from the other side of the fire - the smoky, dark air impenetrable. Squinting, you try to spot his reflective armor, but it works against you in this instance, easily blending him into the flickering, dim light.

A heavy material suddenly falls onto your shoulders, and you jump.

"Oh!"

The Mandalorian stands directly behind you, the thick cloak he was trying to give you still partially in his hand.

"I was focused on trying to see you through the smoke. I didn't think you'd be there." You clutch the brown garment tight around you and softly smile up at him, "Thank you."

Din nods, the clinking sound of metal audible as he returns to his log across the firelight. Your mouth gapes for a moment when you realize that the material around your shoulders is his torn cape.

"Do you not get cold?"

"I do."

"Why not wear one yourself then?" You lift part of the cloak in indication.

"Mandalorians are taught to withstand uncomfortable circumstances. As a foundling, I frequently exercised in far less temperate weather."

"A foundling?" You query, your eyebrow raising.

The Mandalorian leans back and shifts his legs apart to better distribute his weight.

"My youth was upended by war. When my village was destroyed, I was found by a Mandalorian."

"The name is quite literal, then?"

"My people are quite literal," Din crosses his arms and his commanding presence is distracting.

He looks so big sitting on the log, his legs open, back straight, and arms folded.

"We have similar beginnings," you swallow, trying to ignore the burning inside that has nothing to do with the fire.

"I was a little more fortunate in who found me," Din states. He leans forward to finally adjust the rod holding your dinner.

You lose your gaze in the flaming light, remembering.

“I still can’t believe how much things have changed,” you murmur.

Din Djarin can’t either. He has a life-altering decision to make, and a child to let go of, and both thoughts weigh on him like a karking Mudhorn. Din sighs internally at his unintended choice of simile.

Your eyes stray upward to the navy sky, breathing deeply. The frigid air burns your lungs, but you only draw more in, relishing your freedom to do so.

"You did not deserve that life," Din’s rough, mechanical voice answers over the sound of the crackling fire.

You frown, "No one does."

Running with the Mandalorian was a great way to stay ahead of the slavers. Paid employment, constant movement, and no one besides Din knowing your name - it was too good to be true.

Dropping your head from the sky, you level the Mandalorian with the most heartfelt gaze you can manage, "Thank you. I would've never had the courage to run without you."

Unable to see his reaction, you feel the distance most acutely. It isn't just flame and metal that divides you.

"I-" Din starts, but you cut him off.

"But mostly it's thanks to Grogu," you grin, trying to lighten the mood.

The helmet bobs as though he's amused, then Din sighs dramatically.

"I need to separate you two."

"I love him," you giggle, remembering a moment a few days earlier when he had picked up a very dignified, sentient species of frog and tried to eat it. "He is such an agent of chaos." You laugh into your cloak-covered hand.

Grateful that you can't see the fervent emotion glimmering in his brown eyes, Din studies you. Your fond smile is lit by the glowing fire and the cold winds blow redness into your cheeks and nose. You’re secure in his cloak, and it makes his chest ache.

"Shit," he breathes. The hiss through his modulator doesn't pick up the word well, to his relief.

It's not a surprise if you do truly love the kid. He is adorable and you've been with him every waking moment for three months, but the word you've just introduced is jarring to Din.

Talking about Grogu brings the dangers you all face to the forefront of your mind. Your smile falls.

"Will you continue to teach me to fight?" You don't immediately register the sudden rigidity of Din's posture, so you press on, "It’s upsetting to me that I'm better with a blaster than with the skills I was taught and trained in by my family."

The Mandalorian is relieved. You've given him an excuse to say no.

"I cannot teach you the methods of your people."

“That’s alright; anything would be appreciated.”

Din shifts his thigh on the log, agitated, and you struggle to fill the silence, “You don’t have to, of course.”

Then, as the silence lengthens, and you watch his helmet glint as he looks away, you realize what he must be so uncomfortable about.

“Oh. I am not asking we repeat that. I’m sorry,” you raise a hand to chest height as if you’re trying to physically defend yourself from the awkwardness. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“I know.”

“I- Din, really I only meant the…” you grimace and clamp your lips together, unable to bear the tension. Standing, you insist, “I swear to you, I never expected more.”

Forgetting to return his cape, you unconsciously hold it closer as you retreat into the Razor Crest.

The Mandalorian does not watch you walk away. His conflicted eyes remain trained on the crackling fire. Sparring with you brings every heart tug, every little attraction he has to you to the surface, and that's too frustrating to manage while IMPs track him and he deals with letting go of Grogu.

But Din knows he really should continue to teach you. It’s in your best interest, as well as Grogu’s. His hangup is entirely selfish, and Din is not a selfish man.

***

Hours later, when the sun has started to rise once more on this short-cycle planet, the Mandalorian finds his brown cape hung on the door to the refresher. He jerks it off its resting place, and goes to tuck it back around himself, when he notices that something is wrong.

Frozen, the Mandalorian stares at the brown, rough material in his hand. There are no holes in it anymore, only stitches.

_________________________________________

Combined with the sound of intentionally-loud footsteps, Din places Grogu - who had jumped between the two of you all night - on the edge of your cot, allowing the child to wake you up. Din strides to his weapons cache.

You yawn, then snicker at Grogu’s delighted face as he babbles what must be his version of Good Morning.

“Morning, kid.” You pet his ear and he begins to purr.

“You should stop babying him,” the Mandalorian doesn’t look at you as he searches among the weapons.

“Why? He’s a baby.”

Din shuts the doors to his stash. “He is fifty years old."

“He's what?”

Din shrugs and inclines his head in humor. You stare incredulously at the middle-aged child who rotates his little head between you and his father.

“His species is unknown, but they age differently than we do.”

“Uh, yeah. Fifty?”

Din’s modulator makes a rasping sound. It could’ve been a small laugh, but you’re not sure.

“Is fifty so terrible?”

Something in Din’s voice makes you look up at him. He casually leans against the hull.

Unsure if you should have the gumption to even ask, you stutter, “A-are you also fifty?”

The beskar mask does not move as the man behind it debates his reply. He decides on honesty.

“No,” Din states. He clasps one hand over the other in front of him, adding, “But I will reach that number in less than a decade.”

You make a small, accepting gesture as you had subconsciously placed him around his early forties anyway. In any case, it doesn’t matter to you. He is the Mandalorian who (somewhat inadvertently at first, you’ll admit) saved you. Even without that gratitude, you would feel an attraction to him. He was strong and kind and protective. Ruthless, sure, but only when necessary.

Din pushes off the wall, “You didn’t ask why I woke you.”

“Oh.” It hadn’t occurred to you, so used to being woken up - far more rudely or violently - each morning for the prior two decades. “Alright, why did you wake me?”

He reaches behind his back, unhooking an item, and holds out the fighting stick he had used in that skirmish between the two of you.

“I will teach you what I can.”

***

Din Djarin is careful not to touch you, even through his gloves. He doesn’t trust himself anymore. Instead, he instructs you in tactics. After clocking your strategy in less than three moves, Din is worried about your future opponents doing the same.

“You dislike giving ground, but there will be times you’ll have to. It’s how you will outmaneuver them,” the Mandalorian stands, hands folded, his knee cocked, as he speaks.

“How do you know that?” You ask in response to his first statement.

Din clenches his jaw at the memory so very close to other memories, and answers you in a contained voice, “You were not subtle.”

You smile, abashed. “See, that is why I asked you. I’m far too inexperienced.”

Din closes his eyes in frustration.

You continue nervously, thinking about how hesitant he had been to agree to this, “My master took me to many fights, and you’re the best I’ve ever seen. I value your opinion.”

Din is used to compliments. Those whom he returned quarries to often praised him for his work. But your praise is one he actually wants, and something throbs in his chest. Then he grows irritated with his rampant, immature yearning for you.

Din speaks harshly, “This is for the protection of the child. You are his guardian when I am not nearby.”

Locked onto that T-shaped, black slit, your eyes flicker a little at his callous, impatient pronouncement, but you nod.

“Of course. For the kid.”

__________________________________

Unhappy to be removed from where he had curled up on his father’s pilot seat, Grogu had insisted upon sleeping in the cockpit with his little metal ball. You had assured the Mandalorian that you didn’t mind staying in the passenger chair for the night. The cushions were comfortable enough, and it made the child happy.

An hour after Grogu had begun purring in his sleep, you’re brought to consciousness by a deeper, labored sound. Bolting to your feet, worried about the Mandalorian below, you descend the ladder.

The door to the Mandalorian’s bunk had not fully closed, apparently jamming on some loose junk part that Grogu must’ve picked up. There is no light on in the enclosed space, so you cannot see him. But you can hear the way he mutters your name once, rough and agitated. You can hear the sound of material jerking and his rasping, vocoded grunts.

Your throat tightens and your breathing stops. Eyes wide, you slowly back up, terrified for him to find you in this way. A molten weight in your stomach wants you to push open the door and take care of him, but after the manner in which he spoke to you the entire afternoon, and the obvious way he tries to forget about that day in the field, you can’t. You can’t even fathom why he would be uttering your name. It’s too confusing.

Dazed, you return to the cockpit and try to block him out. Sleep does not come to save you for far too long, and when it does, it provides you no escape from the Mandalorian.

__________________________________

Din’s tortured use of your name had kept you awake far into the night. When you groggily open your eyes the next morning, you know you won’t be able to let this go. You must talk to him. Bravery is a muscle you’re trying to flex anyway, so you might as well try it on the scariest thing you can think of: an angry Din Djarin.

While Grogu plays with a ship part you pretend to have never seen, one Din had pried out of the receiving slot of his bunk door this morning, you and he traipse down the boarding ramp, intending to save the rest of the Gornt meat for traveling.

Absolutely guessing at how you’ll begin this conversation, you decide you’ll just hope for the best.

“I- I heard you last night.” It’s barely more than a whisper.

The Mandalorian stops dead in his tracks and you stumble, trying not to run into him. He turns on you, a solid wall of muscle and metal, but says nothing. You swallow and force what shred of courage you have to the front.

“I heard you say my name. You don’t have to do that alone. I can help you,” your final words are almost inaudible.

The Mandalorian provides food, shelter, and companionship. Ignorant to any kind of normal relationship, friendly or greater, you want to show your gratitude. And if that was how you could help him, all the better.

Your inner self, the one that’s been unthawing since the day your master was frozen in carbonite, wants Din in a far more genuine manner. You want him. His compassion and honor, his fatherly love for Grogu, his non-pitying care for you, and his primal confidence have you in danger of becoming a hopeless devotee.

“Help me,” he reiterates, his tone worryingly neutral.

“Passage for assistance,” you try to ease the tension slightly with another old quote of his. “I can still assist you. It’s repayment for your aid.”

Even as you say it, you feel the depth of the lie. You want Din for yourself.

He’s silent. At his side, the fingers on his right hand fidget. The broad bounty hunter leans over you. As he tilts his head, the cold sun glints off his armor.

Din’s voice is as sharp as his vibroblade but twice as lethal, “You are no longer a slave - do not make me say that again. This is not a business transaction.”

Not a business transaction? While technically a rejection, his clarification makes you dizzy. Your breath comes out shakily, fogging in the chill air.

“Okay. What if that’s not my real reason for asking?”

That does it. Stunned, the Mandalorian might as well be a statue made of beskar. Din had found it easy to believe you allowed him to touch you because you felt in his debt, and he hated it. Made him feel as slimy as a Hutt.

“Tell me.”

Din watches your facial expressions run the gamut and he knows that whatever you’re about to say is the truth.

“I care about you.” Will you ever stop whispering? “For you, not just what you’ve done for me,” your second greatest act of bravery this morning is touching his cold chestplate. You swallow as you look up into that blank face.

Din doesn't move. Doesn't think he can move, but then his body responds before his mind does. Soft leather brushes your cheekbones as he takes your face in his large hands. He tilts his cold helmet to your forehead, and you instinctively close your eyes, sighing in relief. This was not what you were expecting when you followed him out here.

You can't hear the first thing he says, but it sounds like dank farrik. You laugh quietly in his hands.

"You are a menace,” he mutters a little louder, the modulator somehow enhancing the timbre of his voice. “You and the kid.”

Grinning, you open your eyes as he lifts his helmet from your skin. “Don’t bring him into this,” you joke.

Din’s thumb ghosts across your lips and you shiver. The Mandalorian is calm. This is inevitable now. He need not fight himself any longer. He grasps your wrist and brings it upward. Gently guiding your fingers underneath the edge of his helmet, Din presses them to his lips.

Utterly shocked at this new gift, you gasp. A scratchy cloth wraps around the bottom of his chin, but above it, his soft, scruffy facial hair and plump lips make your skin tingle. Nerves jumble in your lower stomach. He presses another kiss before slowly lowering your hand.

You tell him disbelievingly, "I thought there was no way -”

“What you thought was wrong.”

Your heat signature rises at the sincerity in his voice. Din tilts his head, watching your reaction to him. He lets his covered fingers drift over your lips again, then he drags them down the column of your throat and past your exposed collarbone, enjoying your whimper. Your pupils are dilated.

“You want me now, don’t you?” He asks, his voice hoarse.

You nod, whispering past your suddenly dry mouth, “Yes.”

The Mandalorian crouches for a split second, hefting you into his arms with no effort. Your legs automatically wrap around his middle, arms around his neck. His hands clasp underneath your thighs as he strides up the loading ramp as though every second he delayed was one wasted.

Din lays you out on his bunk and hits the button for the door without looking at it. He does not turn on the light. In the tiny, black room, you can hear him divesting himself of his flight suit and armor. It makes your heart throw itself against your chest. You sit up and struggle out of your own clothes, wanting nothing between you and him.

“Will I ever get to kiss you?” You ask timidly.

Din answers you immediately. His rough palms bracket your face, then he reverently pushes his lips into yours. His facial hair brushes against your skin and you weakly moan into his mouth, parting your lips for more. The Mandalorian groans, as well, enraptured by this new sensation.

Din wraps a muscled arm around your waist, crushing you to him in the small space. His warm, broad chest forces yours to mold around him. Your hands gently drag along his torso, mapping him. He shudders underneath your fingers.

His lips break like waves around yours. You could be floating above the bed and it would feel no different. He kisses you like it’s what he needs to survive; his occasional noises of desperation stake your heart and dampen your thighs.

“Need to touch you everywhere,” Din’s real, untampered voice knots your stomach.

“You can do whatever you want,” you breathlessly repeat the unspoken affirmation you’d given him the first time.

He chuckles, and you shiver again, drunk with lust. Din lowers you back onto the hard bed, settling over you.

His hot mouth surprises the sensitive skin of your breast. Din moans, involuntarily you think, as he tastes you there, gently pulling and sucking. You jerk, pressing up into him with a cry. Who knew that could feel so good?

His big hands flow down your sides, pressing into you, exploring, and you get a burst of understanding. This man is starved.

Your hands comb into his hair, and while you wonder what its color is, you’re choked up to find that it’s soft and wavy. Din groans loudly when your fingers rub on his scalp. He seems invigorated by it as he growls and returns to your lips with a fever. His tongue demands you allow him inside, but there is no resistance on your end.

Suddenly, Din breaks the kiss with a wet pop of his lips. He vanishes from above you, but then two large hands slide up your thighs. He pushes them apart and your breath hitches.

“You trust me?” The Mandalorian knows the answer, he just wants to hear it.

Nodding dumbly in the dark, you realize he can’t see you and squeak, “Yes.”

He shifts down and presses a row of kisses up your inner thigh. His nose brushes your coarse hair, and your breathing breaks a second time.

Din flattens his tongue and licks the spot he already knows you like. You jolt and his arms wrest around your thighs, holding you in place for him. You whimper as he buries his face in your folds, shocking your system. Your hands return to his hair, and his chest swells as he quickly shoves you toward your end. His nose continually nudges your bundle of nerves and each time it feels like you’re hurtling through hyperspace.

Your back arches when he traps your clit between his lips, and he responds with another obscene noise. This time, the vibration of his deep voice rips your orgasm from your marrow. Crying out his name, you quake, chest heaving through the waves of euphoria.

Too overwhelmed by all his options, Din moves back to your mouth, breathing heavily himself, “Incredible.”

He licks into you again, his hand cradling your face to allow him deeper. Taking advantage of his position, you wrap your legs around his trim waist, pulling him down. His hips cant toward you, and you feel his length fall onto your abdomen. You hadn’t forgotten how big he was, but the heft of it makes your body tremble.

The Mandalorian could be a patient man, but this would never be one of those moments. Din fists himself, rubbing once along your soaked seam. He pushes forward, steadily feeding his cock into your tight, forgiving heat. Din grunts several times, overstimulated.

“You don’t know what you’ve done, mesh’la,” he gruffly murmurs, his naked voice still so shocking to hear.

You have no idea what he means, and you file it away for later study. Solely focused on how he feels halfway inside you, you clutch at the back of his thick thighs, encouraging him. But then he snaps his hips, driving himself to the hilt.

“Din, oh,” you sharply gasp.

He grinds his pubic bone into your mound, stimulating you; his chin tilts up, proud, when you shudder. The Mandalorian grabs one of your hands and brings it to where he’s joined with you.

“You feel that?” Din’s voice is weighty, meaningful.

“Mhm,” you sigh, your fingers leaving his hand to explore his dark curls. He’s right. The deviant way his thick member disappears inside you is intoxicating.

He languidly draws himself out, letting you experience every ridge and vein, pulsing with your filthy sounds. He re-enters you just as intentionally, and when he’s given you everything, he leans down and drags you into a kiss. A kiss that means something to him. His tongue surges through your mouth in a single stroke before his full lips pull on yours, one hand gripping the back of your neck.

He lets you go, trailing his mouth down your throat, obsessed with the taste and the feel of you on his skin.

Din returns to your lips, his forearms framing your head. His fingers twist in your hair, and he begins to pump faster. His length strokes along a spot that makes your eyes flutter in the pitch blackness. Your nails carefully rake at his toned back, drawing a strangled moan from him as he shoves himself inside again and again. Losing a measure of self-control, he thrusts hard, placing a palm on the back wall for stability.

Your hands finally, finally, reach up for his face, expecting at any moment that he’ll stop you. His lips are parted as he pants in exertion, his facial hair fluttering with his breath. Din’s cheekbones are round and high; his nose is angular and fitting.

“I knew you were handsome,” you praise, the words fluctuating in cadence with his pounding strokes. “Wouldn’t have mattered.”

He scoffs, barely conscious of what you’re saying. His forehead drops to yours again, and he can’t believe the life he’d known had unraveled so drastically. In under a year, Din had gained a child and this.

“Turn over,” he orders.

Of course, you obey without hesitation.

His calloused fingers slide around your hips, pulling them upward. With your chest still pressed into the bunk, you moan when he slowly re-inserts himself. He nearly chokes when your body draws him in; the angle and drenched grip of you makes him shake his head in disbelief.

“You okay?” He rumbles.

Your chin scrapes on the metal bed as you nod, “Please move.”

He clasps an arm around your middle, hunching forward. His scruff and lips tickle the top of your spine as he begins to rut into you. It’s already too much - Din grunting, his chest hair scratching your upper back, his muscled arms holding you in place as he fills you over and over. You begin to clench around him again, crying out harshly in a rush of pleasure. Your legs shake, giving out underneath you.

The Mandalorian’s large hand splays across your breast, and he pulls you backward onto your knees alone, welding you to his perspiring chest. As his length plunges up into you, his lips brush your ear. He’s whispering something, but you can't understand the words.

Then, Din exhales with a groan and rolls several long, pulsing strokes, burying his come as deep as he can with a final, gravel-filled grunt.

***

In the dark, there’s only the sound of two people fighting for breath. Din has leaned against the cool wall; he tugs you to him. You sit somewhat beside him, your legs tangled together. Your head rests on his heaving shoulder, and every now and then, you feel the press of his lips in your hair. He laughs once, quietly.

“What is it?”

“Your life is not the only one that has changed.”

Blinking rapidly, your heart glows with warmth. Yours had changed the most. This Mandalorian had come into your non-existence and given you everything. Courage, freedom, responsibility, love.

“I know you like to fight, but this is one I’ll win,” you laugh softly.

___________________________________

Tagging:

@morks-watermelon

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfic #pedro pascal #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #my writing #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #my fics #personal #grogu

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months ago

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AITA for complaining about my students cheating?

I (24F) am in graduate school and TA a class of undergraduates. One of my roommates “Amy” (27F) is pursuing her undergrad, while my other roommate “Lauren” (26F) is also a graduate student and also TAs a class. All of us are in school for engineering.

Lauren and I have some problem students we each deal with. Mostly these problem students are from upper middle class backgrounds who have never gotten below an A in their life who find out that college is a lot harder for them than highschool. As such, there’s always a few students who refuse to put effort into the class and then try to get us fired by our professors for giving them low grades. We’d dealt with catching multiple students cheating many times per semester, and quite frankly it’s really disrespectful because both our classes even offered partial credit increases if you corrected the mistakes you made on your test and turned it back in a week later (so like even if you get an actual 0%, you can get a 50% if you come in for help and learn how to do the problems, but you have to show your work and explain it). If a student is struggling and comes for help of course I’ll do the best I can, and the students know this because my office hours are always popular and I even offer 1-on-1 meetings for those who can’t make the regular times. I also have like, 15 students a semester so it’s not like its a huge class or anything.

As such, Lauren and I used to complain about our respective undergrads while we would make dinner or watch tv and Amy started taking personal offense to this, saying that we “don’t understand why students feel the need to cheat” and that it sounds like we’re “bad TAs” for failing students who are blowing off our classes.

Amy cheats on her exams. We both know it because she’s very open about it, but she isn’t in our department nor do either of us actually care about her cheating because she’s not our student.

Amy confronted us the other night and said that we were creating a “toxic environment” for her because she started to feel really guilty about cheating in her classes and it was causing her to have panic attacks. I told her neither of us have authority to “turn her in” and neither of us really care to, not our problem, but Amy still said that we turned it into what sounded like a “moral problem”. I raised the question of how is it *not* a moral issue, she’s passing off work that isn’t hers and shows the professor that she doesn’t care to learn the material for their class.

That caused Amy to have a panic attack and she told me that I’m one of the worst most selfish people she’s ever met.

#aita #am i the asshole

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centrally-unplanned · 21 days ago

Text

I wanna get this one out before the election since I think that is going to "cast in stone" some takes when it shouldn't given how much of a coinflip it is; Biden really fumbled the ball in the second half of his presidency. I was very pro-Biden at the beginning, I thought he did a great job. I don't think the stimulus was a huge source of inflation and meanwhile the economy came back roaring; obviously not mainly due to him but he did a good job on renewing Jerome Powell (a Trump appointee!) to the Fed, controlling the Strategic Oil Reserve, and "getting out of the way" on a bunch of issues from trade to Covid policy. His environmental policy around the energy transition was stellar, I approve of CHIPS, etc. And in foreign policy he is never going to get the credit he deserves for ending the Afghanistan debacle, and meanwhile the US response to the Russian invasion of Ukraine was about as good as you could possibly expect it to be out the gate.

He actually proved the haters wrong on his promise to "get things done in Congress" using his expertise - he did in fact get bipartisan bills passed and work with centrists like Manchin to get party bills over the line. It was a solid showing; I thought he was clearly better than Obama & Clinton.

But as time went on the wheels really came off. You can almost see the "ideas" running out, like once they had done the Covid drawdown and BBB/IRA, and the midterms made congress more unfavorable, "what's next?" left a void. There was a bunch of bad "party handout" stuff that is completely at odds with how things work today. Foolish moves like the student debt relief - unpopular, unwise in an inflationary environment, a handout to the wealthy, and dubiously legal - or all the kowtowing to the worst unions in the US that still resulting in declining labor vote share! A lack of follow-through on the bills showed the admin's lack of policy chops; the IRA is severely hampered by the lack of permitting reform for energy projects, but the admin applied virtually no pressure to making that happen because, eh, not their vibe I guess? The huge holes in procurement that Ukraine war exposed has been met with very tepid responses as well, just a sort of "throw money at it" default that has fixed little.

Israel is of course peak inertia. I am a realist, I understand fully that there is no world where the US responds to a terrorist attack on an ally by cutting them off - and I think the Biden admin has had its wins in this category, the amount of aid entering Gaza is certainly higher due to US pressure. But it is just embarrassing how obviously Biden himself treated Netanyahu and co as like, credible partners, when they just aren't? Again, Trump would just happily support them doing w/e no matter how many the killed, it wouldn't be embarrassing for him to watch that happen. For Biden, with his stated goals, it is weakness. He could have easily done better.

And we can't ignore the responsibility to the next generation - it is your job as President to set up your successor for victory. Immigration is a classic policy example of that dropped ball - a fear of seeming "Trump-like" in the face of an unsympathetic electorate and an admin itself not actually committed to massive increases in admitted asylum cases. It would be one thing if it was Biden's hill to die on, but it wasn't; just years of muddle before finally doing in ~2024 what they could have done in ~2021, too late to move the needle on the backlash.

Which leads us to the elephant in the room, as all things must. He did end his nomination in the end, again I don't think he is some awful president. But he took a lot of heavy pressure to get there. And the weirdest thing is...he is the one who scheduled a debate before the convention? That isn't normal! It was very obviously a test, to show he was fit - and he failed it. And then refused to admit it. What if George Clooney didn't aim for his head in the press at the 11th hour? What if Nancy Pelosi didn't bring out the big guns? Would he have not bowed down to reality?

And while I have been quite impressed by Harris's campaign so far, and not having a primary has been an advantage, it has still been very rushed. Orgs take time to emerge, you can't actually just snap your fingers and get 30 interviews booked or a docket of vetted VPs. I think Tim Walz a mistake, personally! Not a big one, but a weak choice when someone like Josh Shapiro is right there and "pivot to the center" is your stated strategy. But it is hard to blame her when she probably threw it together in a few weeks while also doing 20 stump speeches a month and debate prepping and all that! I can't say that specific decision would change, but others would. Hell, time could have helped - her favourables in a ton of categories have slowly been ticking up, if she was the candidate since January things could be different. We will never know of course, but the more distance from Biden the better.

I think in 2023 and 2024 it is in fact very hard to find any solid wins for the Biden administration. I can think of a few but they outnumbered handily by the missteps. And I think that, if Kamala wins, a lot of this is going to be papered over. All the political missteps will be like "eh, who cares! We won, right?" But that is not how effective strategy works. For one, if Kamala wins it is only because Trump is the opponent; a normie Republican would probably have trounced her. But more importantly your strategy should pretty much never be "eh whatever" to maximizing your electoral odds. Every action should either be A: this will keep us winning, or B: this won't but it will make the world a better place and so it is where we are spending our points. Biden has had a lot of "neither option" these past two years; too many, in my opinion, to be considered a good president anymore.

But I will give him decent at least, it is a tough job!

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lovetaroandtaemin · 26 days ago

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Kinktober 2024

Day 18: Cockwarming

Zhong Chenle x Reader

Word Count: 969

THIS FIC IS NSFW, MINORS DNI!!!

Warnings: Cockwarming, kind of rough sex, unprotected sex, kind of soft dom!Chenle, creampie, praise kink, slight dumbification. If you think I missed a warning, please let me know!

A/N: If you would like to be added to my Kinktober taglist, you can send an ask, send a dm, or comment on any of my Kinktober-related posts with the username that you'd like tagged. Happy reading!

Taglist: @unlikelysublimekryptonite

Fic is under the cut.

When Chenle suggested watching a movie with you, you thought that he just wanted an innocent romantic date night with you. He had set up your favorite movie to watch, put a huge bowl of popcorn on the coffee table, and lit your favorite scented candles. However, now that you were sitting on his cock, forbidden from moving until the movie ended, the ulterior motive was more than obvious.

Earlier, before you started the movie, Chenle asked you about trying something new with him while you watched it. Basically, he wanted you to cockwarm him for the entire duration of the movie. While you had never done anything like it before, you were willing to try it. You liked trying new things in bed, and restraining yourself for the entire duration of a movie seemed like an exciting challenge. Once you were both bare from the waist down, you found a comfortable position on his lap, and the challenge began.

Now, halfway through the movie, you were struggling to maintain your composure. Every so often, Chenle would tease you by “adjusting his position,” and it only made you more desperate for him to fuck you. Before the whole thing started, however, he told you that if you couldn’t do it he would not be fucking you after the movie was done. So, you continued to wait.

You had about 10 minutes left to go when Chenle decided to tease you more than he already had been. He was kissing your neck, squeezing your boobs, and telling you just how badly he wanted to fuck you. You whined when you felt his hands on you and said, “Please just fuck me already. I can’t take it anymore.”

“The movie is almost done, baby. You can take it. I know you can.”

You got quiet after that, deciding to wait in order to get your promised reward. It was funny, really, how much of an effect Chenle had on you. His prior teasing made you desperate, but the sweet way he spoke to you after made you want to be patient for him. You knew that being patient would pay off, and it did. As soon as the credits finished rolling, he started bouncing you on his cock. He went slowly at first, but as the pleasure he was feeling started to build, his pace increased until he was pounding into you with no mercy. The groans that left his mouth as he fucked you and the way his cock felt as he moved inside of you almost made the ridiculously long wait worth it. Almost.

Chenle was a sucker for all of the ways you reacted to him when he fucked you. He loved the way you felt, the way you sounded, and the way you looked, so making himself wait to experience those things was a challenge. While it had been his idea to see if the two of you could last through an entire movie, he struggled to control himself just as much as you did. Now that the “challenge” was done and he got to feel and hear and see you the way he’d wanted to for hours, he never wanted to euphoria to end. He found that he loved the payoff of waiting to fuck you. So, he briefly considered asking you to try to do this again, just with a shorter time frame. An entire movie was just too long for the two of you to wait.

Chenle was snapped out of his thoughts by your pleas for him to fuck you harder. He happily obliged, wanting nothing more than to please you. When he did as you asked, you found yourself unable to think, too lost in pleasure to focus on anything but Chenle and his cock. He’d be lying if he said that seeing you so overwhelmed by pleasure at his hands wasn't a massive boost to his ego.

You weren’t sure how much time has passed, but after a while, you could feel Chenle’s thrusts change. He was moving you up and down faster, with less of a steady rhythm than before as he chased his climax. He wanted to warn you that he was close, but before he could, he came inside you with a loud groan. It didn’t take much longer for you to reach your own high, screaming his name as you came around his cock.

You felt nothing but pleasure at first as Chenle fucked you through your release. The pleasure you were experiencing, however, quickly turned to pain as overstimulation took hold. When he noticed the change in your responses, he abruptly stopped and asked if you were ok. When you told him it was too much, he helped you move off of him so you could stand. When you were stable, he walked you to your shared bathroom and helped you remove the shirt you’d been too impatient to discard before. He removed the rest of his own clothing, and the two of you got into the shower together.

After you both felt sufficiently clean, you both dried off and got dressed in your favorite cozy pajamas. Then, you practically dragged Chenle to your bedroom. When you got there, he kissed you with a softness that made your heart melt. It was like nothing mattered but the two of you as you got into bed to rest. Once you were settled, he got into bed with you and held you like you would disappear if he let go. While the two of you cuddled in bed, you talked about your days, plans for the weekend, and how much you loved each other. As you drifted off to sleep later that night, you couldn’t help but think that you got the romantic date night you’d originally expected.

Thank you for reading! If you'd like to see what else I've written so far and the rest of what's planned, you can find my Kinktober masterlist here. If you'd like to read one of my non-Kinktober works, you can find my general masterlist here. If you'd like to see what I'm going to be working on once Kinktober is over, you can find my upcoming works here. If none of that interests you, or there's something specific you'd like to see, send a request via asks or dms!

Thank you again for reading, happy spooky season!

#kpop fanfic #kpop imagines #kpop smut #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #chenle x reader #chenle smut #kinktober 2024 #kpop kinktober #kinktober

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ave661 · 2 months ago

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Hi! I’ve got to say I absolutely adore your art it’s impeccable and always leaves me either blushing or crying (I’ve seen the somewhat sadder or dad!character renders you’ve made and I did cry for no reason but I love them either way)

Anyway, I did read your pinned post but I’m not sure if this falls in your ‘okay’ category. Are you comfortable with us using the newer renders that have “Do Not Repost” on them? I use the old ones but lately it’s seems disrespectful if I do use the new ones because I’m not sure you are okay with me using those. Is it alright if I do use the new ones? Obviously I’ll give you credit, as always, but I want your permission first before I do so.

I hope this makes sense. Anyway, have a great day/night!😊

I've been thinking about changing the pinned post for about a month now and I've been postponing the answer to this question for a while to think it over and I came to the conclusion that I don't want my renders to be reposted in any way. Not only new ones, but also older.

If I could go back in time, I would add a huge "do not repost" watermarks from the very beggining on every render. Back then I didn't know how much some of them would blow up and who would use them in what way. I've never been in a fandom as a creator, so I learn something new with every mistake. Maybe I'm too trusting and for a long time I didn't expect that some people would sell fanart they found on the internet. People trace, sell, use without credits, remove my watermarks, edit with AI. Every new info about someone trying to sell them makes me want to give up and I really, really, really don't want that to happen. It's annoying to waste hours reporting thieves. That's why I started adding bigger and uglier watermarks and also posting less renders here and X. However, I'm still very active on Instagram and TikTok because the download option is disabled there which makes me feel more comfortable. I also post stuff on Patreon.

I love seeing my renders used in creative ways and inspiring you to do something, unfortunately every now and then I see them being used in… not so nice ways. Like adding a sw@stik@ to my Konig render, using my Dad series for pedo fics/bots or nsfw stuff that sometimes makes me a bit uncomfortable. But when I read comments that some people thought I MADE THEM because of the watermarks on them, it makes me… ughhhhh.

It really hurts me to say "no" when many of you are respectful, nice and give me credits, but there are also people who don't care and just want to use them for their own profits, not caring that someone spent long time on them.

There's also the problem with Pinterest. Even though I've never posted anything there, I've noticed that sometimes I see my art with all the info and links to my Tumblr blog. Honestly, I don't know how it works, but I don't want anything of mine there. Every time I see them, I report, but like I said, it wastes time that I could be using to create new stuff. So when someone reposts my renders here, it increases the chances of them getting on Pinterest = more stealing in the future.

Sorry I changed my mind on this, but when I saw HT recently selling my Ghost meme on their t-shirts, and then heard that the company that designed it apparently got approval from act!v!s!0n themselves, I was speechless. I guess "I thought they were official" has reached a new level.

#I feel like 3d artists are treated worse in this fandom than other creators and it's very normalized to steal ur works #that's why many of us now make bigger and bigger watermarks and don't allow reposting #we are tired of it and we want to have fun like others from making new art and not spend hours writing dmca and reporting stores

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yukidragon · 5 months ago

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Sunshine in Hell Height Headcanons

It's June 15, which as many of you know from this official profile, that it's Sunny Day Jack's birthday today!

You might also know that it's [Redacted]'s birthday thanks to this ominous picture Sauce shared last year on this day. Funny how these two totally distinct characters share a birthday isn't it? 🤔

Anyway, I was hoping to have written something for this year to celebrate, but like last year my spoons are way too few and far between. I was also hoping to do something self-indulgent for my own birthday, but same lack of spoons halted me there too.

So, until I can stock up on more metaphorical utensils to help me do the stuff I feel like doing, I'm going to celebrate by rambling a little bit about some headcanon details.

Sunshine in Hell differs from the game demos in a number of ways, and one of them is Jack's height. As you might've seen from the profile link, Jack is canonically 6'2", but in my personal headcanon continuity, I decided to make the gentle giant quite a bit taller than that. Because it amuses me, and I struggle with imagining Jack as shorter than Cove Holden.

When deciding how tall to make Jack in my stories, I also decided to do a height chart for him and a few other characters as well. It helps to better imagine characters interacting when you can see how tall they are compared to others.

Yes, I threw in a few extra love interests to the mix, as well as a couple other MCs. I was curious to see how tall Alice would be compared to her sisters, and I had to throw in their love interests as well.

As an aside, it tickles me that even after I made Jack significantly taller, he's shorter than Bo's horny "Feed Me" form.

For those of you that need the conversion from centimeters to feet and inches, or have trouble reading the image, I'll write them down for easy reference.

Alice: 162 cm / 5'4"

Jack: 198 cm / 6'6"

Shaun: 178 cm / 5'10"

Nick: 173 cm / 5'8"

Ian: 170 cm / 5'7"

Bo: 180 cm / 5'11"

Barbie: 184 cm / 6'0"

Bo "Feed Me" form: 216 cm / 7'1"

Elias: 185 cm / 6'1"

Coraline: 172 cm / 5'8"

As you can see, Shaun, Nick, and Ian stuck with the canon heights in their profiles. It's just Jack who got a height increase because it's what I imagined his height to be from the start, and Sunshine in Hell is basically my headcanons that diverge from the game's canon, so I do what I want. It's also fun to imagine scary yandere Jack towering over every single one of the love interests. It adds to the intimidation factor too despite his gentle giant persona.

Bo and Elias don't have canon heights like the SDJ love interests, so I mostly just did whatever felt right to me for them. Bo's regular height was influenced by the mafia AU picture Sauce drew. It served as a very good height comparison chart all on its own. As you can see, Bo is just tall enough to reach Jack's smile if you don't count the ears and poofy hair.

All credit to the awesome Sauce for their lovely art of course and for feeding my headcanons. As always, I want to link to the SnaccPop Patreon as gratitude for being cool with me using their art in my posts. If you're a a free or paying member, consider checking out an important survey that went up to help guide the team in their future endeavors.

Bo looks so short compared to Jack, doesn't he? In my headcanon land, it's just a matter of perspective, and next to other people Bo is pretty darn tall. Though he's just one teeny tiny inch shorter than his puppy.

You bet your sweet bippy Barbie takes smug satisfaction in that one inch height superiority. Bo talks so big as a big bad alpha dog, but the puppy he's trying to dominate is just a bit bigger and badder than he ever expected.

Of course, Bo gets to turn it right back around on Barbie with his monster sized "Feed Me" form. Like werewolves that become huge compared to their human selves, when Bo's inner beast comes out to play, he adds on quite a lot of height and muscle. He towers over even Jack! Still, even when super sized, he's no match for Barbie.

As you can see, despite being the eldest child, Alice is shorter than her two younger sisters, especially Barbie! They got more of their dad's height genes, while Alice took more after their mom in that department. Barbie and Coraline are quite a bit taller than average, a fact that Barbie revels in, and Coraline can find a little awkward sometimes, especially during moments of weakness. It can be hard to help someone stand back up and walk when they're much taller than you are after all. It leads to some embarrassing moments for poor Coraline.

On that same note of surprisingly tall people with chronic illnesses, I thought it would be interesting if Elias would have been a very tall man if not for his illness. There's no canon height for him and he's floating with Jack and Bo in the Christmas picture, so it's hard to go with a comparative height. So, I went with what felt narratively interesting to me. With his legs being twisted, and him being hunched over with a cane, he probably appeared shorter than he actually was. It's hard to see his exact height with his lower half ghostly and indistinct as well. It's only when he actually bothers to give himself legs and stand with both feet planted firmly on the ground that he can show off just how tall he really is.

While I'm on the topic of height, I wonder if one of Ian's insecurities was his height. Some men have issues if they're shorter than their peers, and Ian is the shortest of the love interests. I can imagine it certainly didn't help if he was bullied for being short along with his general "nerdy" appearance back in school.

Still, Ian has nothing to complain about at the height he's at as a fully grown adult. Even if the other love interests are taller than he is, Ian is still above average for men in the US. He's just got the misfortune of being the shortest guy in a group of very tall people. At least he doesn't have to worry about taking the bottom spot in the height chart like Alice.

Yes, Alice is a bit self-conscious about being so short compared to her peers, even if technically she's also above average height for a woman in the US. She feels especially tiny when standing next to Jack.

Though, admittedly, Alice does find it very nice to feel tiny and delicate when Jack sweeps her up into his arms. It makes her feel less self-conscious about how chubby she is when her big strong giant of a boyfriend can carry her around so easily. Once she gets over the initial fear that he might drop her, she'll soon look forward to being whisked away by her silly clown.

Oh, and if you're wondering about Mary's height... I'm still debating if I want her to be around Alice's height or a little taller. She had the same eye color in both lives due to the eyes being windows to the soul, but there were other physical differences due to different parents introducing different genetics. I need to ruminate on that fine of detail more and see what feels more interesting to me narratively.

Though even if Mary was as tall as Barbie, she'll still be short enough for Joseph to sweep into her arms since he's just as much of a giant now as he was then. Not that it would stop him from trying even if his sunshine was bigger than him. Nothing will stop Joseph/Jack from showing his love for his sunshine!

I think I'll wrap things up on that fluffy note. I hope y'all enjoyed me going off on a headcanon ramble after such a long time. With any luck, I'll be able to get to answering some asks soon. Thanks for reading!

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #The Groom of Gallagher Mansion #Elias Gallagher #DachaBo #SnaccPop Studios #Headcanon Ramblings #Sauce-y Art

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thelaurenshippen · 1 year ago

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finally taking the time to read through the SAG agreement summary and oof, I hope they have an AI town hall soon because...well, there are things to discuss!

so, in case folks are curious, here are my immediate takeaways from the deal as a SAG actor, a SAG producer, and person who is not any kind of expert but spends a lot of time being skeptical of contracts I sign. this is a summation/commentary, not a holistic breakdown of every point, nor even an in-depth discussion of the points I do talk about. and it is, of course, in no way legal advice or voting advice.

this post is already maybe the longest post I've ever written on tumblr (lol) and I feel like I've barely scratched the surface. to be clear, nothing I'm saying here represents how I'm going to vote, how I think other actors should vote, or my be-all-end-all stance on a particular issue. this is me reading through, flagging what concerns me, and asking myself questions. and I'm here to take your questions too! though of course my expertise is limited.

(what?? something I wrote got annoying long?? in my tumblr? it's more likely, etc. huge write-up after the cut)

the good

self-tape stuff: this is one of the more niche/the thing that the general public will find least interesting, but they've put in a lot of provisions to make sure self-tape auditions have limits (# of pages, no stunts, no nudity, doesn't have to be professionally shot, etc.) which is amazing because these types of auditions have gotten out of control since the pandemic. this feels like a great gain

data transparency: in no world did I think the streamers were ever going to agree to any data sharing with either the wga or sag so even though the data is limited, this still feels huge to me.

folks who sing and dance will be paid for both of those things now, which is great

they've added MLK day and Juneteenth as holidays (about time)

a performer cannot be required to translate their own lines

principal performers are required to be given hair and makeup consultation or reimbursed for obtaining their own services - this seems like a small thing, but it's being put in here pretty much entirely because HMU services have generally been appalling when it comes to textured hair/a variety of skin tones. there's also stuff in here about working to hire more diverse HMU artists

it looks like it's going to be easier/provide a path for folks getting IMDb credits even if they're not credited on screen

miscellany: there's a bunch of gains in wage increases, P&H increases, relocation fees, franchise language etc. that all seem good to me, though my limited knowledge on those subjects prevents me from going in depth on them.

this is not important, but it tickled me, there's a term to replace all instances of "telegraph" in the contract with "email & text" which like...why has it taken us thirty years to do that lol.

the "...hm..."

intimacy coordinators: oof. when I watched the press conference SAG gave, I was fucking thrilled when they said that the new agreement required folks to hire intimacy coordinators for nudity and simulated sex scenes. that was almost reason enough for me to vote for it tbh - not requiring it is the exact reason I voted no on our last contract. however, reading the contract summary now, the exact language is: "Producer must use best efforts to engage an Intimacy Coordinator for scenes involving nudity or simulated sex and will consider in good faith any request by a performer to engage an Intimacy Coordinator for other scenes. Producer shall not retaliate against a performer for requesting an Intimacy Coordinator." this....sucks. "best efforts" and "good faith" are not the same as "required". IMO, an intimacy coordinator is the same thing as having a stunt coordinator or, like, any number of health and safety requirements. OSHA doesn't say you must "in good faith" put your "best effort" to providing fire exits. it's great that performers can request coordinators for any kind of scene, and this is still the strongest language we've ever had in a contract but....c'mon guys.

residuals: look, I can't speak to these new terms in any concrete way. there are increases, there are bonuses for streaming success, there's a whole thing about a fund regarding those successes that I need explained to me more in depth, but overall, it looks like we made some in-roads here. as someone who employs actors under digital distribution contracts that has no residuals (podcasts), I know how genuinely cumbersome the unholy trifecta of "views-success-profit" can be (as in views do not equal success, success does not equal profit, etc.). I also have no sympathy when the majority of companies dealing with that cumbersome trifecta are massive media conglomerates. anyway, long story short, idk if this is good enough, I'm hoping to attend the next info meeting sag has.

the bad

the new hair/makeup provisions are explicitly for principal actors. while I hope it leads to better, more inclusive HMU services all around I haaaate that this implies supporting or background actors (who oftentimes also have to sit in HMU) don't deserve the consideration. (then again, background actors are usually required to do their own HMU/bring their own costumes, but for productions where that's not the case, the same HMU provisions should apply IMO)

as with every contract, there's language that could be stronger, clarity that needs to exist, and important things missing - but this isn't the final contract and I'm not a lawyer, so I'm gonna leave that stuff to the experts.

but, "lauren", you say, "what about all the AI stuff? where does that go?" well, reader, I was planning on including that in the above but it's the hot-button issue right now and I think it's wickedly complicated, so I wanted to break it down separately, after I had a chance to point out all the good-bad-in-between stuff that's not getting talked about.

a note: in my career, I've learned there's two big things to keep in mind when reading a contract you might sign:

what is the worst case interpretation of this language (thank you to my lawyer, prince among men, for teaching me how to do this in practice (that said, anything I say here is not legal advice, he'd also want me to say that lol))

what are you willing to lose/compromise on/what are the limits of your pragmatism? contracts are not about a company giving you everything you want out of the goodness of their heart - it is always a compromise. pragmatism has to be a part of the equation.

so, with that said, I'm going to play a little devil's advocate here, and a) try to find the good/the pragmatic and b) catastrophize the worst case scenario. but first, it might be handy to look at this SAG infographic for some basic definitions. let's go.

the AI good

a ton of stuff here requires consent. that is not a small thing, and the consent continues even after your death (whether it was a yes or no; though this can be complicated by your estate/your union)

the language does establish that the consent must be a separate signing from the employment contract, even if its in the contract, which is great (but more on that below - timing matters)

actors often do get paid for use of their digital replicas, though it's different based on the use/type of replica.

the actor must be provided with a "reasonably specific description of the intended use". this language is vaguer than I would like, because it allows producers to decide what "reasonably specific" and "intended" means - there's always going to be some vagueness when it comes to this specific thing, but a good start would be for producers to require not blanket consent, but conditional consent for each significant use of digital replicas.

if the replicas are being used in other mediums, that must also be consented to, thank god.

replicas cannot be used in place of background actor counts on a given day - if I'm understanding this correctly, this means a production can't just have a bunch of fake background actors by themselves, they have to engage real people up to a certain number first (which in this new contract is 25 for TV and 85 for movies). we're already filling in background with digital people or copy-pasting of the same crowd over and over and have been doing so since at least the late 90s, so it's good we're continuing to put up boundaries around that.

the AI "...hm..."

it's unclear (to me) when an actor can be asked to consent. IMO, everything is meaningless if the consent is happening as part of regular contract negotiations. these things have to happen when - and only when - the actor has already been engaged in a role and feels empowered to say no

the use of independently created replicas (replicas pulled from existing footage, not created by the actor) being allowed without consent under first amendment reasoning - this is obviously concerning a lot of people bc first amendment arguments are so broad. that said, there's a pragmatism part of me that understands this is already happening/has been happening for a while and used in ways I think are perfectly fine - I was just watching the new episode of For All Mankind (one of the best TV shows right now!) and it's an alternate history, which meant that in the opening scenes of this season they had some bonkers good deep fakes of Al Gore saying stuff he never said. I think that's okay to do in a fiction show that imagines a different US history! "but Lauren", you might be saying, "Al Gore isn't a member of SAG!" are you sure? are you positive? because I'm pretty certain he is - he was in several episodes of 30 Rock, way more people are in SAG than you think (every NPR reporter for instance), and the two worst presidents we've had in the last 50 years (yes, those ones), are both definitely members of SAG (even if one is dead). now, the other side of this is that public figures like politicians are under a different social contract than actors, and if they wanted to sue, they could, unlike the average SAG actor who might have their image abused. this is why this is in the "hm" column - deep fakes and parody/satire/commentary use of replicas is already here and there's always going to be a 1st amendment argument to make, so we need to figure out how best to limit those and protect the most vulnerable.

alteration: with this language, a project can digitally alter without consent if the script and performance stays "substantially" the same. again, this language is too mealy-mouthed. I don't know that I have a huge problem with a line of dialogue getting replaced with a digital version of that actors voice if, for instance, a word was mispronounced, or wind garbled the sound or whatever - yes, it would eliminate the need for ADR, but if we put some limit on it like..."if there are more than 5 lines in a given episode/movie that require digital alteration in the service of clarity, the actor must be engaged for an ADR session or paid for the digital replacement" then I could see this being workable. I'm also personally okay with things like costumes being digitally altered but, again, we need limitations on that. digital altering cannot replace the art of costuming but, for instance, if a costume needs to be altered to include a hate symbol or something, I think that's fine (example: I have friends who worked at the VFX house for an alternate history TV show that involved a lot of Nazi costuming and set design - a huge part of that VFX house's job was to put swastikas in places, rather than props making nazi flags. I'm okay with that!) but again, these fringe cases do not a compelling arugment make, and this contract language can be interpreted too broadly for my comfort! like everything else in this "hm" category, I need to see the final contract language to decide.

the AI bad

there's a bunch of circumstances in which actors don't get paid for creating their replica/use of it and those circumstances are too broad for my taste.

synthetic performers - this is just awful. no. no, we should not be allowing AI to generate entire actors. just............no. there's some language about the producers having to talk to the union if the synthetic performer is "used in place of a performer who would have been engaged under this Agreement in a human role" but this doesn't apply to non-human characters so....wouldn't that be all roles?? leaving the producers room to be like "this role has to be synthetic, we never would've cast a human!" is bullshit. also, even if we're having AI create a magical talking unicorn whole cloth (which, like, also no, we have artists for this), that unicorn still needs to be voiced by a human person. this whole section is a disaster.

the exceptions to consent for digital alteration are bad-bad. I talked about the potential ADR replacement above and that has a whole host of issues with it that I didn't even get into, but I can see the argument. the rest are very troubling:

there is an exception under "any circumstance when dubbing or use of a double is permitted under the Codified Basic Agreement or Television Agreement" - okay, so does this mean we can replace dubbing artists and stunt performers entirely? this section is about digital alteration, but who's to say alteration couldn't turn an actor broadly miming a fight into an entirely digital, expertly performed fight that usually a stunt double would have done? with AI translation technology, does this mean we're replacing VO artists for dubs entirely? bad!

similarly, "Adjusting lip and/or other facial or body movement and/or the voice of the performer to a foreign language, or for purposes of changes to dialogue or photography necessary for license or sale to a particular market" - Justine Bateman has a great twitter thread on the terrible puppetry potential of this but I want to draw attention to the particular market bit - we all know that selling to china is such a huge part of studios' strategies that they'll remove entire scenes or lines around queer stuff. to me, this clause makes all of that so much easier. I know the argument here is going to be "we can replace swear words and license it for kids!" which.......sure? fine? but, uh, we already have ways to deal with that? and the potential for abuse here is terrifying to me. with all the digital alteration stuff too, there's just so much icky implication for the beauty/body standard to get so much worse.

if a background actor’s digital replica is used in the role of a principal performer, they'll be paid as if they actually performed the days for that role, which, sure, but uhhhh why are we saying it's okay for a digital replica of a background actor to suddenly be a leading role!?!?! I can't think of anything more demoralizing than going to set to act in background (a job I've done! an important job! a fun job a lot of the time! but creatively limited) and then getting a much bigger role (the dream!) and.....not being able to, you know, act that role or be in scenes with other principal actors or do the thing that you've dedicated your life to doing. nightmare stuff.

woof. there's so much more to say but I'm going to leave it there. these are the concerns I'm going to go into SAG's meetings with, and the concerns I'll be considering as I decide how to vote. I know there are things I didn't address and very possibly things I misinterpreted or misrepresented - if you're an actor, I highly recommend a) reading that Justine Bateman thread and b) attending SAG's meetings to ask questions and express your concerns. and I'd love to hear what y'all think! my ask box is open.

#sag aftra #sag #sag strike #AI #me: I'm just gonna look through the terms #me: I'm just gonna do a quick write up before starting my day #clock: it's been almost two hours #not to keep hammering at the 'this is not me saying that I am correct or that I've made up my mind' bit #but this is the piss on the poor reading comprehension website so #I'M NOT SAYING I'M RIGHT #TAKE ALL THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT #i mostly have questions and concerns and am pleasantly surprised at some stuff #knowing that there *is* a degree to which we will have to compromise #and I'm WILDLY concerned about other stuff #would love to hear what other SAG members think #lauren takes too long to say things

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blissfullyapillow · 11 months ago

Text

┆I’ve loved you from the start

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ Neuvillette x fem reader

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ wc: 10,483~

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ Prompt: pinning, pinning, and more pinning. Wait, it’s mutual?! Oh, your heart can’t take this… “Oh how I’d wish you’d wake up one day, run to me confess your love at least just let me say, That when I talk to you, Oh cupid walks right through, And shoots an arrow to my heart…. Oh the burning pain... Don’t you dare look at me that way..”

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ warnings: fluff, slowburn, mutual pinning, lots of Fontaine characters make an appearance, reader is referred to as Name instead of Y/N but same thought applies (reader insert)

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ Pillow Talks: Hi guys! I’ve spent the last few days writing this, and I have to say I’m in love with how it turned out! I had to do my man justice (get it?) with a fic I can be proud of. Anyway, I really hope someone can find joy and comfort from this fic. As a side note, yes this fic was inspired by the song From the Start, by Laufey. The specific lines stated in the prompt is what really inspired me to write this. Regarding Neuvillette, I tried to be as lore accurate as possible here haha. I wish you all a wonderful holiday season. Stay safe out there. With much love, Pillow ‹𝟹

‧₊˚ ⋅♡ Masterlist

Credits: sillyakito on pinterest

I tap an impatient finger against my knee as I take a slow survey of my surroundings. Everyone is patiently seated, although animated whispers reach your ears as citizens anxiously wait for the trial to begin.

I don’t know what to expect…

As the people beside me engage in idle chatter, I take a deep breath to mentally prepare myself. My friend convinced me to attend one of Fontaine’s public trails, insisting it was a rite of passage as a new citizen of Fontaine.

Unfortunately for the both of us, they came down with a cold the day before the trial. I would’ve loved if they could accompany me, but I’m here nonetheless.

Another quick glance around the courtroom sets my nerves on end. I’m fine with huge crowds but at times they can feel suffocating. My finger tapping increases in speed as my thoughts begin to spiral.

Before my thoughts can completely spiral out of control, a loud sound catches the attention of everyone in the room.

There, sitting before everyone in a comically large chair, is the most beautiful man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Something that is no small feat in the world of Teyvat.

He has a commanding presence; there’s something about him that makes it difficult to pry my eyes away. He situates himself before the people of Fontaine, and before long the trial is well underway.

I wind up being swept up in the moment; I’m heavily invested in this case. I close my eyes for a moment, playing detective to deduce whom the culprit is.

The majority of the attending party is not as quiet as I’d prefer them to be; It’s hard to think when everyone is so rowdy.

“Oh my, did you hear that? She’s definitely guilty!” “Disgusting.” “Who? Her? I doubt it was her! Do you not see the remorse on her face? Oh, what poor soul…”

…

aha, that’s it!

I open my eyes with a triumphant expression. I’ve determined who the culprit is. At least, I think so. Now to wait and see.

“Order!” The man before the citizens of Fontaine slams what appears to be a cane to the ground. The room is immediately engulfed in silence.

I gaze at him in awe.

The man, who I now know is the Iudex of Fontaine, talks through his deductions before a machine generates the final verdict.

I silently cheer since I successfully determined the culprit.

Overall, I’d say this was a valuable experience. There are definitely some prominent flaws in how trials are viewed and the implemented system. Of course that was only one trial and I shouldn’t get ahead of myself, but something about the fate of another being viewed as entertainment just doesn’t sit right with me.

With my head in the clouds, I don’t pay attention to where I’m going.

Well, not until I accidentally bump into something.

A small “omph!” comes out of whatever I bumped into. That’s weird. Why would an inanimate object make a—

The sudden realization that I bumped into someone dawns on me. I’m quick to bow my head in embarrassment.

“Sorry! I wasn’t paying attention..” I hope they aren’t mad!

I blink my eyes open when I hear nothing, and I find myself face to face with a Melusine.

“It’s no problem. We can all be clumsy at times.” The Melusine smiles at me; it’s the most heartwarming smile to ever grace my eyes.

I can feel the way my heart melts as the Melusine continues to smile at me, although she tilts her head in confusion.

Oh, I haven’t responded to her yet!

“You’re right. Still, I’m so sorry for bumping into you.” A sheepish smile lifts my lips. The Melusine sighs as they shake their head in dismay.

“Oh dear. You remind me an awful lot of Monsieur Neuvillette. He tends to over apologize for things when it comes to us.” This time, I’m the one tilting my head in confusion.

“Monsieur… Neuvillette? … Did I say that right?” The Melusine nods her confirmation, although she seems a bit surprised by my confusion. Why, though? “Are you new to fontaine?” She asks. When I slowly nod my head in confirmation, her eyes sparkle with an emotion I can’t pinpoint.

“Ah, I see. Well, my name is Sedene. It is very nice to meet you.” Sedene holds out her hand for a friendly shake, and it takes everything in me not to squeal over how adorable she is.

I haven’t lived in Fontaine for long, but all of the Melusine have my heart. They are all so sweet with their own personalities, it’s hard not to have a soft spot for them! They especially helped me out with navigating the city when I first arrived, their eyes devoid of judgment or apprehension when communicating with me.

Sedene tilts her head at me once more, and it takes me a moment to realize I haven’t responded yet… again.

My face warms in embarrassment.

Why do I keep getting lost in thought today?

I smile at her as I extend my hand, and we shake. “So, what’s your name?” She asks me. “Name.” Is my response.

She considers my answer, trying the name out on her own. “Name… it sounds pretty.” Sedene’s thoughtful comment causes my smile to morph into a grin. “Not as pretty as Sedene! Still, thank you.” I bend down to my knees to be at eye level with her.

I notice her eyes widen slightly, but she doesn’t seem to take offense to my action. If anything, she seems overjoyed. “Y/N, have you met Monsieur Neuvillette yet?” I shake my head no in response to her question.

“Monsieur… Neuvillette…,” Sedene nods again to confirm I have said the name correctly as I speak, “..Who is he?”

She blinks her eyes owlishly, before she bursts into a fit of giggles.

I’m a bit taken aback, but I find myself joining in on the laughter. Once Sedene stops laughing she gestures for me to follow her. I oblige her request as she begins to skip away.

Before I know it Sedene has led me to a new area, and now I stand before a large door. Sedene politely knocks before a voice from inside calls out, “Come in.”

Huh, why does that voice sound so familiar?

My question is quickly answered once Sedene pushes the door open and I follow her inside.

Sitting before the both of us, at his desk, is none other than the beautiful Iudex of Fontaine.

Oh, Monsieur Neuvillette!

everything clicks for me, and I find myself feeling a bit overwhelmed.

I’m standing before such a prominent figure in Fontaine! With no appointment or anything! I’m sure you need to schedule an appointment to see someone like him, right?

Is there some sort of etiquette I should follow here?

I break out into a nervous sweat as Sedene introduces me.

“I hope I am not imposing on your work Monsieur, but I have someone I’d like you to meet. This is Y/N, and she is a new citizen of Fontaine.” I shyly wave and offer a smile as Monsieur Neuvillette fixes his gaze on me.

Archons, my heart is pounding!

…

He remains silent.

I catch sight of his curious eyes roaming my figure, before they leave me to return to Sedene.

A soft, warm expression takes over his features as he communicates with her.

It makes my heart squeeze painfully in my chest.

“You are fine, Sedene. I was just about to take a break from all of this paperwork anyway.” He speaks in a very refined manner, but his tone is more relaxed than it was in court. Obviously that’s to be expected, but still.

“Well hello Name, you can refer to me as Monsieur Neuvillette. Thank you for being good company to Sedene.” The Iudex of Fontaine now stands. He makes his way over to us.

I scramble my brain for a dignified response since the only fact in my mind is that I’ll be able to see his pretty features up close.

Oh,

He’s coming closer.

He’s standing in front of me now.

Damn, he’s even more handsome up close.

“Hmm?” He hums, prompting me for something. But what could it—?

Oh, yeah. I need to respond.

I open my mouth to thank him for his generosity, maybe even congratulate him on how smooth the trial seemed to go today.

Unfortunately, he chooses that moment to glance at Sedene, and he chuckles at whatever he sees.

Oh, my heart.

…

“Yeah.” Is my blunt, ineloquent response.

Oh ARCHONS why is that the only word that came out of my mouth?

He seems a bit taken aback by my lack of a response, but then he smiles.

At me.

He chuckles once more, and he lifts his hand. He moves his hand in my direction, and my entire body stiffens. His fingers grace my cheek.

My heart stops.

“You had something there. Do not worry, I have removed it.” Monsieur Neuvillette tilts his head in a polite gesture, a warm smile on his face as he retracts his hand.

I forget to feel embarrassed since I just had THE beautiful Iudex of Fontaine touch my cheek.

“Thank you..” I murmur, sounding a bit more eloquent this time.

“You are quite welcome. How long has it been since you’ve arrived in Fontaine? Do you hail from Liyue?” Neuvillette’s eyes roam my form once more as the realization dawns on me.

He’s studying my clothes, since I’m not wearing clothing native to Fontaine.

“Ah, yes. I just moved here recently. From Liyue.” When the word ‘Liyue’ leaves my lips, Neuvillette’s expression shifts for the briefest of moments.

It’s subtle, but I notice the quick frown that turns his gorgeous lips upside down, before they resume their neutral position.

“I see. Well, there are many things to enjoy in Fontaine. I hope you find Fontaine to be a suitable new home for you.” He sounds sincere, and it makes me happy.

“Thank you Monsieur.” I twiddle my fingers as my gaze leaves his face, to look around the room.

I assume this is his office.

There are shelves in the room, huge as they are, and there are two piles of paperwork on his work desk.

Sedene strikes up a conversation with Neuvillette, but I tune it out.

That is, until my name is brought up again.

“So, what do you say, Name? Does that sound like something that’s of interest to you?” I whip my head around to look at him, and his gaze is as fierce as it is intense.

Uh, what was the question?

He opens his mouth to speak, but before he can I interrupt. “Y-Yes! Sure, that sounds wonderful…” I chuckle nervously, hoping he doesn’t realize I didn’t catch his question.

He smirks at my response.

“So you don’t know what I have asked of you, yet you agree nonetheless? You are proving to be an intriguing individual Name. I shall see you here tomorrow then. Promptly in the morning, at 9, and not a moment later.” He turns then, walking back to his desk.

“Yes.” Is the only response I’m capable of mustering.

Oh my.. wait, did I say my question out loud earlier?

I watch as he sits down at his desk once more, that same smirk on his lips as he returns to work.

“Thank you for introducing us, Sedene. I shall see you tomorrow.” Sedene happily waves goodbye to Monsieur Neuvillette, and I hastily follow suit.

We leave Monsieur Neuvillette to his work, and Sedene happily bids me farewell outside of his door. “It seems you’ve intrigued Monsieur Neuvillette. That is not an easy feat (Name). I shall see you here tomorrow. At 9 o'clock okay? Don’t be late.” Sedene moves in to give me a hug, and I quickly bend down to return it.

As I leave the Court of Fontaine, I’m in a daze.

What did I just get myself into?

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

It’s 8:50. I am most definitely not running late to my surprise meeting with the chief justice of Fontaine.

On the contrary, I’ve arrived early!

Too bad my sense of direction isn’t serving me well..

“Um, excuse me? Do you know where I can find Monsieur Neuvillette’s office?” I kindly ask a Melusine I stumble upon.

They generously agree, and soon I’m led to the same door I stood before the previous day.

I check the time. It’s 8:57 now. How fortunate.

“Thank you so much!” I gratefully give my thanks to the Melusine before me. I bend down to give her a hug, and she accepts. “No worries. Thank you, (Name). It’s been a long time since Monsieur Neuvillette allowed himself to be involved with another person.” Oh?

Before I can ask the Melusine to elaborate, the door to Neuvillette’s office suddenly opens.

I look up, and he stands tall and proud above us. He awkwardly coughs into his fist as he glances at us. “Name. I’m glad you could make it.”

I take that as my Que to rise and properly stand in front of him. I discreetly wave goodbye to the Melusine as she skips away. When I turn back to face Neuvillette, he has a glint in his eyes.

I can only hope to decipher what it means.

He moves to stand beside me outside of his office, closing the door firmly behind him.

“Now, are you ready to begin?” I feel a sudden burst of energy surge through me, jumping up in excitement. “Yes! I’ll admit, I have no idea what we’re doing and I usually don’t wake up this early, but I’m ready!”

My words clearly take him by surprise, as his whole body stiffens and his gorgeous eyes widen.

“My… you sure are full of surprises.” He sounds smug about it for whatever reason, but I take it as a compliment.

“Sedene had asked me to show you around Fontaine, since you are new to this nation. Normally, this is not an activity someone of my.. position.. would partake in with a citizen. So count yourself lucky, as it was Sedene who requested it.” I eagerly nod my head in approval, and a shy “thank you,” leaves my lips.

He only nods, noticeably turning his head to look elsewhere.

He was struggling to contain his smile.

“Let us be on our way then. There is much to show you, while the day is still young.” So with that, Monsieur Neuvillette guides me out of the Palais Mermonia, which he later explains is the name of the building his office is located in, to show me the sights of Fontaine.

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

Neuvillette proves to be a wonderful tour guide, though I didn’t expect any less from him. He points out famous shops that the citizens rave about, making a point to mention Chioriya Boutique, run by a famous fashion designer from Inazuma. My eyes sparkle as I catch glimpses of the clothes, but Neuvillette is quick to continue our tour.

I can’t help but pout as we continue on. My eyes struggle to leave a particular piece that has caught my eye. Little did I know, Neuvillette was all too aware.

As we continue our impromptu tour, we run into many people who are familiar with Neuvillette. Each and every one of them express genuine surprise at seeing him out and about, especially with someone they’ve never seen before.

A famous magician, Lyney, performs a magic trick for us as his assistant Lynette silently stands beside him. I politely applaud, enjoying the cool trick he managed to pull off.

Halfway through the tour Neuvillette stops me. He pointedly looks towards a building a few feet ahead of us. My confusion morphs into one of delight as a girl runs out from behind it, quickly swarming Neuvillette as she asks for an interview for what apparently is the third time that week.

Later on, nearing the end of the tour, we run into a tall, beautiful lady. Neuvillette introduces her as the Champion Duelist, Clorinde. To say I'm starstruck is an understatement. She seems a bit stoic, but a subtle smile remained on her lips as she questioned what Neuvillette was doing with a citizen of Fontaine.

I giggle as he slowly becomes more flustered with Clorinde’s obvious teasing, briskly walking off as he bids her a quick farewell soon after. She smirks, turning her gaze to me. I smile at her, and she nods politely before she continues on her way.

Our tour ends with a chance meeting, with none other than the Archon herself.

Well, if the whispers you heard are true, then former Archon… ish? I don’t know the whole story, and it honestly sounds complicated. I don’t particularly care to know the details, as I give Furina a friendly wave of the hand. She stops to greet the two of us. She almost looks like she wants to ask Neuvillette what everyone has already, but she refrains from doing so, quickly entering her house with what appeared to be boxes of macaroni in her arms.

…

I think it’s better not to ask.

With that, my tour of Fontaine with Neuvillette concludes. The two of us return to our starting position, back to the Palais Mermonia. Neuvillette’s expression is hard to read as the two of you stand in front of his office door. “Thank you so much for doing this for me. Or, well, I’m not sure if it was entirely for me but either way I appreciate it! I got to meet a lot of cool people, although some of them made me nervous with how cool they seem…” You chuckle as you express your thanks.

“No need to thank me. I actually enjoyed myself quite a bit.” You both send a smile in the other’s direction, before an awkward silence ensues.

Luckily, you believe you’re good at handling these. “Um.. so, until we see each other again?” You extend your hand for a shake. He looks taken aback for a moment before he reaches out towards you, shaking your hand.

“Until we meet again, Name. Truly, you are a lovely individual.” He politely nods, smiling at you before he turns, entering his office.

His back is turned as the door shuts behind him.

Thank goodness.

You quickly place your hand over your heart, as the organ beneath your chest pounds violently against your ribcage.

Archons, how did you manage to walk beside him all day long? He’s genuinely an intriguing individual, and you enjoyed the various expressions he made. From a look of exasperation with the young reporter Charlotte, to looks of endearment as some Melusine waved to him when they spotted him, to an adorable look of embarrassment as Clorinde took it upon herself to extensively question his motives.

A soft look paints your features. Your cheeks, along with your heart, feels so warm.

You take your time leaving the Palais Mermonia.

Your only wish is that you’re able to meet Monsieur Neuvillette once more, even if your wish is quite far-fetched and impractical.

Who knew a rainy day would be the thing to grant your wish?

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

A heavy sigh leaves my lips as I hold my umbrella above my head. This rainy weather is quite fitting for today; after that trial I just witnessed, anyone would be sad.

I roll my shoulders as I attempt to work out the kink in my neck. I stayed behind as the other citizens slowly filed out of the courtroom. The verdict weighs heavy on my chest. It was a tough case to watch, and it pained me to see the grief stricken look that crossed Neuvillette’s features as he announced the defendant guilty.

I sat alone in the vast courtroom to give myself time to absorb everything that occurred. It almost felt like too much, but then again, I’ve always been one to put myself in others shoes even when it doesn’t directly affect me.

I shiver; it’s getting quite cold with this heavy downpour.

My gaze shifts to the sky. Although the circumstances were not ideal, I can’t help but feel a sense of peace wash over me as the rain splatters to the ground. A raindrop drips down from my colorful umbrella, splashing to the ground before my feet.

I’ve always loved the rain. Sometimes it can be a bit of a nuisance, but even so, there was something so beautiful about it. I adore all kinds of weather, but rainy weather has always held a special place in my heart. It calms me enough to sleep during late nights; it makes what would’ve been an ordinary night cozier and a bit special.

Nothing soothes me more than the gentle, or rough, splatter of raindrops against my window.

My thoughts drift back to the present as my eyes come into focus. Whoops, I was daydreaming again.

I glance around, hoping no one spotted me zoned out, when my eyes connect with a familiar pair of dark blue-purple slit eyes. Said eyes widen, before they visibility soften. He takes long strides towards me, and my heart flips in my chest.

‘Act cool, Name. Act cool,’ My thoughts warn me.

“It’s lovely to see you again, Neuvillette.” I cringe at my choice of words, internally berating myself for sounding cheesy.

“It is lovely to see you again as well, Miss Y/N.” Neuvillette smiles courteously in my direction, before his gaze shifts towards the sky. “Ah, my apologies. This heavy rain must be quite an inconvenience for you.” I glance at him, with what I’m sure is confusion on my features. Why is he apologizing for the rain?

It’s not like he’s the one causing it.

“No need to apologize for something that isn’t your fault Monsieur.” I’m not sure if I’m imagining the way his body winces.

“No, no… ahem–” He awkwardly coughs into his fist, cheeks warm as he looks elsewhere.

Huh. How odd.

I shake my head to get myself back on topic.

“Monsieur Neuvillette, do you have an umbrella?” My question draws his gaze in my direction. I suck in a sharp intake of breath at the intensity within his gaze.

“No, but do not worry about me. I’ll be fine.” He dismisses my concerns, stepping forward to walk in the rain. “It was nice seeing you again–” He pauses, glancing at his side. There I stand beside him, stubbornly holding the umbrella over his head.

He sighs.

“Y/n, I was honest when I said–” “I don’t care. I mean–” I catch myself, reminding myself Neuvillette is a respectable man that I can’t talk carelessly with as if he were a friend. “I mean… I understand. Still, please let me walk with you. I may be imagining it, but you do not seem well. I imagine a trial like that would make anyone feel ill. Not to mention you were the one presiding over the whole ordeal…” I’m a bit nervous that I’m overstepping my boundaries, but I figure it’s worth a shot.

Monsieur Neuvillette looks startled as he stares at me. I shift my weight from foot to foot, feeling awkward once more.

He suddenly looks away. Silence continues our conversation; with a gentle grasp of his hand, he removes the umbrella from my hand to hold it above the both of us.

“Please, let me repay your kindness.” I nod, following him as we walk side by side through the torrential onslaught of rain.

It isn’t long before we enter what appears to be an indoor cafe, ducking inside. Neuvillette closes my umbrella before he hands it back to me. I whisper my thanks, following closely behind as we find empty seats.

“Is there anything you’d like to try?” Neuvillette gestures to the menu in front of me. I feel bad, but I can’t resist looking over the menu. Scanning the various sweet items, my mouth begins to water. “This looks so good! Oh, but this does too. Hmm, maybe I want to try this…” I talk to myself, temporarily forgetting that Neuvillette is sitting in front of me. A sudden burst of laughter startles me, and I quickly place the menu down as I watch Neuvillette.

His eyes are crinkled, his hand running through his hair as he laughs unexpectedly.

Stop it, heart.

He quickly composes himself, chuckling to myself. “You certainly seem eager. Please, order what you want. It’s on me.” I open my mouth immediately to protest, but he speaks before I can utter a single objection.

“The only thing I want to hear from those lips is what you want to order.”

Archons.

This man will be the death of me.

So, I oblige, telling Neuvillette my order before he promptly stands to leave, ruffling my hair as he passes.

My face burns.

There’s simply no way he said that to me. No way. Nada. Zlitch.

Except…

I know what I heard.

Augghhhh.

I roughly put my head in my hands as I will my heart to calm down. You barely know the man, he didn’t mean it like that… yet..

I’m in trouble.

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

Neuvillette returns with my requested order, and I know my eyes must shine with horribly contained excitement. “Do not wait for me, go ahead and…” He struggles to contain his laughter when I don’t even wait for him to finish speaking, happily devouring the treat before me.

He returns a minute later with my requested drink, just to see an empty plate. He really struggles not to chuckle. “Don’t laugh. I see it on your face, mister.” I warn. “Whatever do you mean, Miss Y/n? I would never laugh at a lady enjoying a sweet treat.” His tone is smug, accompanied by a grin. He places my drink in front of me before he sits in front of me once more. I pout at his obvious teasing, but decide to let it slide.

“Say, where’d you get the fancy glass? What’s in it?” I’m curious, leaning a bit closer in hopes of catching a glimpse at the context.

“Ah, this? It is simply water, my drink of choice.” He looks all too elegant as he swirls the glass in his hand before he takes a long sip.

Your eyes are glued to his person.

I should feel embarrassed at my shameless staring, really, but the sight before me is too beautiful to pass up.

The moment his eyes begin to open once he’s finished savoring the taste, I avert my eyes so fast it’s comical.

Unbeknownst to you, he witnessed the whole thing.

He won’t out you though, you’ve treated him with kindness by sharing your umbrella and he can only tease you so much.

“Anyway, are you feeling better?” I ask. He looks confused for a moment as I take a sip of my drink. You can see the moment it clicks for him, his eyes visibly widening in recognition.

“Oh… yes… I.. am…” He seems completely taken aback by that revelation; it’s all too cute. “I’m glad. I know it mustn’t be easy presiding over cases, but you really do such an important job. I’m sure many are grateful that of all the people in Teyvat, it’s you whose the Iudex of Fontaine.” My words are sincere as I relay my honest feelings to him, closing my eyes as I take another delightful sip of the coffee I ordered.

This taste is absolutely divine. I haven’t had coffee that tastes this good in so long.

I keep my eyes closed as I savor the taste, slowly opening them.

Just to find Neuvillette staring intently at my features.

To be fair, I did the same thing to him moments before, but gosh this feels embarrassing. I hope I wasn’t making a weird face!

I quickly avert my eyes, looking down at the table as I struggle to contain my smile, surely making an utterly goofy expression.

I hear Nevuillette’s gentle laugh.

I slowly look up to see such a delicate look on his face; archons, I’ve always wanted to be on the receiving end of a gaze like this. Now that I am, I feel all too overwhelmed, yet simultaneously all too.. Elated.

I giggle; it bursts out of me like a spoiler to a movie bursts from the lips of another. Neuvillette catches himself, coughing awkwardly into his fist, a habit I’ve realized he has, before he looks down at the table.

Now, we both look silly huh?

I smile to myself.

I’m glad I was able to help him relax…

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

We step outside once more. I’m prepared to share my umbrella with him, whether he wants to or not!

Thankfully, that isn’t needed. We both look to the now clear skies, as the stars twinkle above. It seems particularly easy to spot them tonight, not a cloud or raindrop in sight.

I cheer.

“Look, Neuvillet- Monsieur! It’s stopped raining!” I excitedly point to the dreamscape of a sky, before I turn to face Neuvillette.

I falter at the fragility of his gaze; he’s as still as a marble statue carved to perfection, his fixed expression conveying a tempest of emotion as he longingly looks to the sky.

“It’s over…” The words are murmured under his breath. My own leaves in quiet gasp, completely rooting me to the spot as his pulchritudinous expression holds me captive.

A few moments of silence pass between the two of us, both of us admiring different things, yet they are entirely the same at the root. He slowly lowers his gaze to return to mine once more, and they hold me at his every beck and call, as they always seem to do.

“Ah.. my apologies. I was lost in thought.” He smiles, turning his body to face me. “I appreciate the time we spent together today. I hope to see you again soon, Y/n.” His words cause my heart to flutter with an undeniable yearning that shouldn’t be there.

Yet, my heart longs for the man standing before me, it performs somersaults in my chest as he moves, ready to part ways.

“By the way, you can refer to me as Neuvillette.” His statement is simple, yet it holds so much weight.

He nods in lieu of saying farewell, his steps echo throughout the quiet streets of Fontaine as he makes his way to his destination.

I can only clutch my chest as I watch him leave, embedded to the spot long after his figure disappears from my line of sight.

Oh, Archons.

What have I gotten myself into?

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

My eyes unconsciously wander to the door once more, waiting for a hand to pry it open from the inside.

I hear giggles beside me, and I can only groan as I get caught red-handed in the act for the fifth time this evening.

“Name, Monsieur Neuvillette’s meeting should be ending soon.” A sweet Melusine whispers into my ear. I can only muster a meek nod, returning my attention back to the task at hand.

I’m waiting with a few Melusine, Sedene among us, as Neuvillette finishes his very important meeting.

I wandered into the Palais Mermonia of my own volition, just to find out that Neuvillette is occupied in a meeting. I planned on leaving after I heard the news, but a few Melusine nearby seemed to recognize me and asked me to sit with them.

Lo and behold, I’m here learning how to weave a flower crown with fellow Melusine as we wait outside of Neuvillette’s office.

“You’re doing great Name. Is this really your first time weaving a flower crown?” Sedene’s curious question boosts my confidence. “Yes, it is! I’m glad I’m doing so well that you felt the need to ask that.” Sedene happily nods beside me, before she skips away to tend to something.

I concentrate on weaving the final piece; my trembling fingers complete the flower crown.

The group of us let out a collective cheer, before we quickly quiet down when Sedene scolds us. We are just right outside Nevuillette’s office after all.

“It looks so pretty! Look at the one I weaved.” A Melusine holds her flower crown up for me to see. It’s much more intricate than mine, but I only feel a swell of pride as I give her my honest praise.

Suddenly, we hear voices from behind the door. My leg starts to bounce as my eyes remain fixated on the door, waiting for the moment it’ll open.

I don’t have to wait long, mere moments later the door opens slowly, and Neuvillette’s guest is escorted out of the room. They wave to him, a short blonde with a floaty… thingy. Is that a toy or a person?

I almost want to rub my eyes to make sure I’m seeing things correctly, but I figure it’s best not to question it. I often encounter many creatures and people I wouldn’t expect, but they’re usually a delight in their own unique way.

The blonde traveler and their companion spot all of us sitting together. They seem like they want to come over. They place one foot in front of them before the small floating child beside them interrupts, loudly proclaiming “Paimon is hungry! We’ve gone way too long without food!” The blonde traveler stops and simply smiles, waving in our direction. All of the Melusines wave back in friendly greeting. Well, if they’re friends with Melusines then I see no reason to be cautious. I join the rest of my companions in waving. The blonde traveler winds up chasing the floating thing as they dash towards the exit.

Huh. What an.. Interesting encounter.

My thoughts are interrupted when the person I’ve wanted to see most finally emerges from his office. I feel my jaw go slack as I stare in his direction.

He has yet to notice me, so I take the opportunity to admire him. My eyes trace over his form, going painstakingly slow as they admire his length waist white hair. They settle on the adorable ribbon holding his hair in place. I tilt my head, noticing the almost horn like accessories adorning his head. I wonder what that really is? It suits him, but I wonder if..

All my thoughts come to a halt when he finally turns, and his bewitching orbs hold mine hostage.

I couldn’t look away even if I willed it; nothing regarding his appearance has changed, but it’s almost as if.. The scenery, the world around me has grown more vibrant in color.

The pounding in my chest feels surreal as he smiles at us. He takes slow and deliberate steps in our direction, curiously eyeing the flower crowns in our hands.

“Name, you may want to close your mouth.” Someone whispers in my ear.

I immediately close it, feeling all too embarrassed.

Uh..

It’s not use. I can’t formulate a single thought.

I dumbly watch as Neuvillette finally reaches us, engaging in pleasant conversation with the girls around me. I pointedly look down, fiddling with the crown in my hands. What if he scolds me for being here, and distracting the Melusine from their duties? I’d hate for them to get in trouble because of me, or to be on the receiving end of Neuvillette’s disappointed gaze.

“Name. What has your mind so occupied that you didn’t notice me sitting down beside you?” Saying I jump in my seat is an understatement.

I’m startled, jerking before I turn to gaze into those mesmerizing orbs once more. I giggle awkwardly before I raise the flower crown in my hands. His gaze finally leaves mine, looking at the object in my hands.

I’m relieved he’s finally stopped looking at me, but I can’t help but feel a bit sad as well.

What is wrong with me!?

I close my eyes and take a grounding deep breath in.

When they open once more, I feel much more composed. “Neuvillette, these girls showed me how to make a flower crown.” I hear words of agreement as the Melusine all speak up at once. “Yes, and Name has done a wonderful job.” “She’s great company, Monsieur.” “Monsieur, do you want to join us?” “Why don’t you try hers on Monsieur Neuvillette?” Neuvillette laughs, holding up his hand with the onslaught of comments.

“Ah, I see. I’m glad to hear it. I know firsthand how lovely her company is. I’d be delighted to join you all. I do not mind trying Name’s flower crown, as long as she is okay with it.” You gawk at Neuvillette’s smooth response to every comment previously directed at him. You assume it’s a skill he must’ve picked up being the Iudex of Fontaine, being able to take in information from multiple sources at a time.

“Um.. yeah, I’d love it if you could try mine on. Sorry if it isn’t as pretty...” A shy smile lifts my lips before I gesture for him to lower his head. He dismisses my concern with a simple, “Nonsense,” before he’s lowering his head for me.

I easily place the delicate crown upon his head, admiring his well kept hair up close.

My eyes find the horn like accessories once more.

I shouldn’t.

I really shouldn’t.

Yet I do.

My hand has a mind of its own, reaching out before they gently caress the blue accessories on his head.

I hear him suck in a sharp intake of breath as the Melusines around us gasps in dramatic surprise.

He doesn’t say anything for a moment, actually allowing me to continue.

I’m not going to waste this opportunity. I selfishly lift both of my hands, caressing each appendage as I feel the smoothness beneath my fingertips. My hands glide up and down; it isn’t long before they reach the base of the appendages. There’s no way this is an accessory, they don’t feel like one. Are these actual horns? Hm, if they are then surely he’ll feel it if I…

A careful squeeze of the bases has him jumping, jerking away from my touch. I immediately start to apologize, but stop myself when I catch sight of his face. His entire face is redder than the shiniest apple in Mondstadt, his eyes looking every which way as he clearly tries to compose himself.

For whatever reason his breathing is a bit ragged and he groans, hiding his head in his hands.

I’ve never seen Neuvillette look so flustered before; this sight is a treat for my eyes, and I’m enjoying every last second of it.

I can’t resist the small coo that leaves my lips.

He groans again.

“N-Name, thank you for the beautiful flower crown. I’ll keep it in my office. Please, excuse me.” He quickly stands, speed walking to his office before the door slams behind him.

You’re a bit bewildered now. And a bit confused.

If those are actual horns on his head, then is Neuvillette really a human? I mean, he could be a hybrid of some sorts maybe. I’ve seen those around when I traveled to different nations, looking for a new home to settle down in.

I feel a bit bad for touching his horns like that without his permission. My worried eyes turn to ask the Melusine if I upset Neuvillette, only to see them all crowded around me, eyes wide and full of awe.

“Monsieur Neuvillette let you touch his horns Name!” “How unexpected.” “Oh my gosh you two are so cute!” “The other girls were telling the truth!” They all chatter excitedly amongst themselves, giddy and barely able to contain their enthusiasm. They quickly bid me farewell when the door to Neuvillette’s office opens once more, giving me quick hugs and pats on the back before they scatter.

One even wishes me luck.

What do I need luck for? I’m not entirely sure, but I’m definitely taking it.

Neuvillette appears more composed when he sits down beside me, the flower crown still on his head. “I thought you were going to put the flower crown in your office?” I ask. He seems confused for a moment, before realization reaches his eyes.

“Ah, yes. I did say that. I decided your hard work deserves to be appreciated, so I will wear it until the day comes to an end.” His words elicit a broad grin to appear on my lips, and his eyes noticeably take in the sight.

A smile presents itself on his lips as we spend the next few hours just chatting amongst ourselves.

I’ve learned that Neuvillette can be quite humorous, given the opportunity. I’ve realized a lot of things about him from our interactions. Like how he prefers to keep distance between himself and the citizens of Fontaine, since it is possible one day they may end up on trial. It makes this relationship we’ve formed a bit unusual, but I’ll be damned if it doesn’t make me happy.

He also loves water. He wound up telling me how water tastes different from each region, and the feelings they evoke in him when he indulges in their pristine taste.

Oh, and the warmth he displays towards Melusines is just another thing that I love about him, he can be so–

Wait..

My entire body goes rigid as warmth engulfs every crevice and limb, my body burns like the hottest of waters against human skin.

Well, my feelings are quite obvious, but to admit it so easily to myself would mean…

Neuvillette stops speaking, eyeing me curiously as I internally berate myself for developing such feelings. I truly don’t know what to make of it, so I simply grip my clothes in my hands, pushing my feelings aside.

Neuvillette seems like he wants to say something, but decided against it. His eyes glance at my balled up fists, and his eyes swirl with an emotion I fail to pinpoint.

“I see you’re still wearing clothes from Liyue. This is not a complaint, just a mere observation.” Ah. I look down at my clothes.

He’s right, maybe it’s time I get something that’ll blend in more. I mean, I see people around Fontaine wearing clothes from Inazuma, Liyue, and Mondstadt even, so there really is no need for me to buy new clothes. I feel comfortable enough to walk around in the clothes I used to wear around Liyue. Still, I have to admit I love Fontaine’s style when it comes to clothes. Maybe I’ll get something new, just to see how I feel in it.

Neuvillette slowly stands. My eyes follow his movements, and they take note of his offered hand. “Come, there is somewhere I wish to take you.” You don’t need to think twice; you happily take his hand, and he helps you stand.

You dutifully follow Neuvillette, choosing to not read into the fact he has yet to let go of your hand.

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

I admit, I’m shocked.

Neuvillette escorted me to Chioriya Boutique, and in mere moments one of the staff took my measurements as requested by the Chief Justice.

The bewilderment on their faces caused a snicker to slip from my lips before I stopped myself.

People’s reactions to Neuvillette are always so varied and dynamic, it’s very entertaining to see yet equally intriguing.

Neuvillette bombards me with questions regarding my fashion choices before he relays this information to the staff. I wait, expecting something more to happen, but alas he ushers me away from the boutique.

I sigh, pinching my nose. I really hope he’s not trying to get me anything. I’d love to pick something out for myself, but he wouldn’t let me get a word in edgewise! I couldn't resist his earnest gaze, so I wound up waiting to the side as he requested.

I look up when the sound of footsteps reach my ears. He approaches me, a satisfied pull of his lips sends my heart into overdrive.

“I have taken care of business here. Now, perhaps we could take a walk by a riverbank ro somewhere similarly fluvial.” He extends his hand to me once more. I’m baffled to say the least. I consider protesting, opening my mouth to insist he does not need to get anything for me, but his hard glare is warning enough.

My mouth closes unceremoniously, and I quietly take his hand. He’s radiant now, humming as he walks closely by my side.

I look to the sky, the blue hues have long since shifted to beautiful pinks and purples.

Oh, Neuvillette.

You are none the wiser of the effect you have on me…

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

I wait outside the Opera Epiclese as a strong downpour of rain threatens to drown the poor souls who don’t have an umbrella.

I didn’t witness the trial today, but it’s become a habit to walk with Neuvillette after his trials. He was conflicted about this habit when it first began, but now I notice the undesigned glint in his eye whenever he catches sight of me after a trial.

So, it’s turned into a regular part of our daily routine.

Unfortunately it seems the trial wasn’t an easy one today; as people file out of the courthouse, sullen faces are many a dozen.

My heart squeezes painfully in my chest; if the citizens' faces look so solemn, then I can only imagine…

Minutes pass, long after the last person left the opera house. I start to second guess if he’s even here anymore. Maybe he left so I wouldn’t have to see him? Fortunately, he chooses that moment to emerge from the Opera house.

My eyes light up, excited to finally see him… but..

Oh..

poor Neuvillette…

I bite my lip when his calm, neutral expression catches my eye. Neuvillette isn’t one to openly express his thoughts and feelings through expression, but I know it must’ve been particularly harrowing if he can’t even muster a frown.

He looks up, and his impassive gaze locks with mine. He feigns a smile as he approaches me. My hand grips the handle of the umbrella; my heart aches for him.

“Thank you for waiting for me, Name. I apologize for taking so long, shall we pro-” Something about his eyes, devoid of spirit, arrests me. His rigid movements evokes a dreadful throb in my chest.

I drop the umbrella I’m holding, opting to rest my hands on his cheeks. He’s a bit startled by my actions, lifting his hands to rest on top of my trembling one’s. He sighs deeply, closing his eyes.

He leans into my touch.

Silence ensues.

The cold nibs at my skin. It threatens to seep into me through the fabric of my clothes, but I couldn’t care less when the man before me is clearly hurting.

A moment passes before Neuvillette clears his throat. I already know he’s going to try and brush this off, like he normally tends to do.

“Name, while I appreciate your concern, I don’t–” “Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don’t cry.” The rest of his words die in his throat. He’s silent, but I can see the effect the words had on him; his eyes squeeze so tightly it looks borderline painful.

“Name.. where did you hear..?” Oh. He wants to know where I learned about this.

“Do you remember that blonde traveler you had a meeting with that day? And the floating child thing, wait, I think they said their name was Paimon..” You think out loud, satisfied when Neuvillette stiffly nods in confirmation.

“Well, they were one of the attendees of today’s trial. They stopped to chat with me when they saw me waiting here for you. They told me when I see you and it’s still raining, if I say ‘Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, Don’t cry,’ it’ll cheer you up.” My explanation doesn’t seem to surprise him. He only sighs.

It takes him a moment before he slowly opens his eyes.

“I… see. Well.. They were correct. I’ll have to thank them during our next encounter.” I smile brightly at him, and in response his gaze seems to soften. I look out to the sky; the rain has considerably lessened its intensity. Droplets still hit the ground, but it’s an improvement from the earlier downpour.

“I do have to wonder though, why does an old children’s song speaking of the hydro dragon have such an effect on you, Neuvillette?” He raises an eyebrow, something I didn’t know he was capable of.

I giggle as he informs me, “It’s not that the song has an effect on me per se, but…” “Hmmm?” I prompt him with a gentle smile on my lips. He looks elsewhere. “It’s okay, you don’t have to tell me, hydro dragon.”

The way he whisks his head, still resting in the palm of my hands, to gawk at me confirms my underlying suspicions. Maybe I’m jumping to conclusions, but if I’m really not.. Then maybe..

I release Neuvillette’s face in favor of wrapping him in a warm embrace. He emits a choked sound from deep in his throat when I start to stroke his back, repeating the rhyme once more.

Neuvillette’s sigh sounds equally exhausted as it does exasperated. “Whoever created that rhyme must have believed the Hydro Dragon was akin to a bleeding heart. It could not have been known if the Hydro Dragon would grieve for humans…” You ponder the meaning of his words for a few moments, before you respond with your own thoughts.

“While that may be true, it’s something only the Hydro Dragon knows the answer to. Whether he sympathizes with us silly humans…” I pull back to look at him. I’m really praying the love I feel stirring in my heart isn’t obvious on my face.

His eyes widen a fraction. He appears completely taken aback. I listen for the sound of the rain, and when I don’t hear it I look back to the sky. The rain has stopped now.

A droplet drips down from the building above, landing on my nose.

Neuvillette’s body shakes, and I return my gaze to him.

He pulls me close as laughter racks his body. This is the first time I’ve ever heard him laugh so brazenly; I’d be a fool not to join in.

It takes a long time for our laughter to die down, but once it does Neuvillette speaks. His words, “The people of Fontaine are innocent. Through the time I have spent by your side, it was easy to determine that you share a similar verdict, Name.”

I avoid gazing into his eyes for the duration of our conversation, lest he notice my fairly obvious lovestruck gaze.

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

He takes a step closer, and I take a step back.

My heartbeat is loud in my ears; roaring louder than an obnoxious car engine as it speeds down the highway.

He mimics every move I make; for every step back I take, he takes a step forward. This continues until I’m left with nowhere to retreat, back pressed firmly against the wall behind me.

He takes his time approaching me as my eyes anxiously dart every which way. His office looks the same as I remember it, except…

My mind registers the flower crown on his desk, beside the pile of paperwork that he just finished.

He kept it?

My thoughts are brought back to him when he’s standing before me, blocking my view of everything else that isn’t him. “Name, could you please repeat what you just said?” I swallow the lump in my throat. He sounds angry. Livid, even. All I did was make a joke about myself..

“I said that, uh, I’m sorry for ruining your image. Being seen with me must not be a good look for you, being the Iudex of Fontaine, and then I said my feelings for you were stupid–” He doesn’t let me finish, slamming his hands on either side of my head.

SLAM!

I jump.

I feel small between his arms and his imposing figure in front of me. It’s difficult, but I manage to maintain eye contact with him. The emotion in his eyes reflects a raging tsunami, oppressive with a dangerous glint that’d make anyone feel weak in the knees. My knees feel especially weak right now, being caged in like this.

“The words you speak reek of lies. It’s a fabrication your mind has created to protect yourself.” His words are true and pierce through the walls I’ve been trying to maintain around my heart. “I don’t understand…” I whisper.

another lie.

“What is it that you don’t understand?” His voice is low, and the words sound like a growl leaving his lips. “I.. don’t understand why someone- a being- like you, or how, you could possibly.. Return the feelings I harbor for you. You’re the Hydro Dragon after all, are you not? A respectable, prominent figure at that, whose company brings me pleasure and shines a light on my mundane everyday life. So, why, how is it possible that you… you said you…” I struggle to finish my statement, but he waits for me patiently.

“...You said you feel the same, but I don’t understand how you possibly…” He clicks his tongue, clearly aggravated. I don’t believe he’s aggravated with me, rather more, with what I have said.

He closes his eyes. It’s almost as if I can see the gears turning in his head; he’s figuring out what he wants to say in response to my absurd claim, as he previously called it..

His eyes slowly open, and ardent determination is evident within his burning iris’. His next words stun me into complete silence, absolutely enraptured with the overflowing emotion seeping from his words.

“Honestly Name, I’m trying to comprehend how you haven’t determined this for yourself, but it is alright. I will make things clear for you now, Celestia and the Heavenly Principles be damned; I yearn for you like a traveler yearns for a haven, a place of respite for their weary soul. My heart aches to feel the weight of your hand in mine. It longs to memorize every ridge of your palm, admire every dip and curve of your body, outline any and every beautiful scar that embellishes your natural beauty. So I’ll be damned if I allow you to stand before me belittling yourself when we are both aware that your words hold no significance; the truth of the matter lies in the longing gaze you’re giving me now. It lies in the quick withdrawal of your hand whenever mine ‘accidentally’ brushes against yours. It lies in precious tears upon your lashes, as you try to conceal your feelings for me. It…” His powerful words lose momentum as said tears escape the confines of my lashes, painting the planes of my face as they drip down at a leisurely pace.

He lifts a gloved hand to wipe them away, before he pulls it back in a moment of uncertainty. I watch, beguiled, as he removes his gloves before reaching for my cheek, thumb tenderly caressing my tear stained cheeks.

A strangled sob threatens to escape my lips, so he leans in, unhurried and deliberate with every movement he makes.

His lips brush against my own, yet they hover mere millimeters from pressing firmly against my keen lips. “May I?” His question is simple in nature, yet the implications of his words hold so much weight it threatens to suffocate you. It’s all you’ve wanted, truly, yet you find yourself in a daze.

He waits. Patiently.

I close my eyes and breathe, and he breathes with me.

So when I open my eyes once more, my answer is resolute, unyielding, in its truthfulness and authenticity.

“Yes.”

I can feel his breathing speed up, as little puffs of air tickle my face. His hands feel softer than I’d imagined, as they rest upon my cheeks.

His tentative lips eradicate the irksome space that previously separated us. I smile into the kiss, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. It doesn’t take long for the both of us to feel comfortable. Our lips part, only to seek the warmth of the other’s once more. This time, it’s Neuvillette who smiles as we kiss.

His lips eagerly taste mine as we explore each other. His hands move from my face to brush against my sides, stopping at the hips. They reside there, pulling me closer. A sweet hum reaches my ears, emitted from deep within his chest.

Joy bubbles up from within as our kiss comes to a natural conclusion; Neuvillette pulls back to provide me an opportunity to breathe.

I feel warm all over as I study his smokey gaze. He’s breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling with rapid breaths. My palpitating heart can’t take much more of this.

Yet, I verbalize no objections as he languidly captures my lips once again. He’s impatient now; his hungry lips seek to claim every aspect of me, mind, body and soul. His lips easily devour mine, his tongue, which sought entrance moments before, now laps against my own.

A shiver racks my body as the warmth flooding my body threatens to be my demise. My hands seek purchase on his shoulder, pressing into his shoulder blades. I’m astonished by the passion within Neuvillette’s tender, yet heated embrace.

I have to pull away, lest I be swept up in his treacherous waves. A wistful sigh escapes his parted lips as he rests his forehead against my own. I gasp for air; He stole my breath away, just as the mighty waves of the sea indiscriminately rob many of their ability to breath, resulting in futile attempts to resurface.

I require more time than I’d like to admit to catch my breath.

“So.. does this mean you like me or?” My joke does not go unrewarded. His unamused look drives me into a fit of giggles.

Love washes over me, like a gentle caress, when he joins in.

I admire his unabashed laughter as his thumb rubs soothing circles on my hip.

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

Distinct giggles can be heard from the other side of the door.

Neuvillette sighs.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, meanwhile my chest rapidly rises and falls in mirth.

“Do not encourage them.” He groans.

I overhear Sedene tell the other Melusine of the sight she was met with earlier this evening, as Neuvillette and I walked into his office hand in hand, and the girls gathered around her squeal with glee.

I peeked out of Neuvillette’s office a few moments ago, and my eyes were met with the adorable sight of a group of Melusine gathered around Sedene as if it were story time.

Now, I rest my head on Neuvillette’s shoulder as he signs the last document of the evening.

“Oh dear. I worry they’ll continue to discuss this for many days to come.” I can only smile as his face is colored with endearment; his eyes soften and he fails to stifle a smile.

“I don’t see anything wrong with that. They’re having fun, and they care dearly for you, Neuvillette..” “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong.” His retort leaves me feeling confused, but he only reaches for my hand.

I watch as he plays with my fingers, humming a tune to himself. “Dear, they have come to care deeply for you as well. Do you not notice the way Sedene’s eyes light up whenever you speak with her? Or how Kiara always runs in your direction the moment she spots you? Or, how about when– mmph!” The rest of his words are muffled behind my hands, pressed firmly to his mouth.

I can feel the grin he’s making.

“Okay okay, point taken.” I grumble, removing my hands.

My heart flutters when he sends a wink my way.

He turns his attention back to the signed document on his desk, moving it to the finished pile. “Speaking of caring deeply for someone… Name, I have something I wish to tell you.”

“Should the day ever come where you choose to remain by my side, I shall reveal something I know will be of interest to you.” I’m sure my face looks as astonished as I feel, because Neuvillette simply laughs, running his thumb along my bottom lip.

“Now now, there’s no need to make such a face.” “What are you talking about? Reveal.. What?” He only closes his eyes, emitting a quiet hum.

“My name, of course.”

My entire body stills as the gears turn in my head.

“Wait, so Neuvillette isn’t..” His eyes compel me, keeping mine locked with his as they open once more. A deep emotion lies within them, granting me a glimpse of the altruistic soul within.

“I have always asked citizens to refer to me by my last name.” His words make sense, and with the knowledge I have of him, he is one to keep people at a polite distance. Still… It's a bit shocking.

Even so, I have no qualms with this arrangement.

“It’s a deal, I’ll patiently wait for the day you tell me your name. ..First name, I mean.” There’s a glint in his eyes that reflects pleasant surprise, albeit there’s a hint of a challenge that resides within them.

“Oh? You sound confident. Not that I’m opposed, that is the ideal outcome I desire for our relationship.” I smile, placing my fingers under his chin as I lean in for a kiss.

He smiles as our lips embrace each other, placing his hands firmly against my back.

I had every right to feel confident; after all, I finally was able to witness Neuvillette on his knees, ring in hand as his loving gaze threatened to break the dam I was avidly struggling to hold back.

My eyes glisten with unshed tears as I join him on the ground. I practically throw myself onto him as I embrace him, and his carefree laugh is an alluring melody to my ears. He leisurely slips the ring onto my finger, pulling back so he can properly face me.

“Now, are you ready for me to consummate our arrangement?” My head bobs up and down so fast that I make myself a bit dizzy.

Warmth gives Neuvillette’s features an almost angelic glow as a delicate finger, free from the confines of his gloves, brushes along my cheek.

“Hmm…” He stalls.

I pout. He beams.

“Alright, alright. I will leave you in suspense no longer. My name is…”

⋆｡𖦹 ° ♡⸝⸝ ✧˖

Likes, Comments, & Reblogs are appreciated !!

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ukagakadreamteam · 5 months ago

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Ghost Jam 2024 results

The results of Ghost Jam 2024 are here!

This year we had a total of 24 ghosts submitted, by 36 participants! The number of overall ghosts continues to hold steady, while the number of people joining the event has increased!

Of the submitted ghosts, 5 completed the 72 Hour challenge (with multiple ghosts being submitted a day or more before the 72 hour deadline!), 10 completed the Add an Extra challenge, and 12 completed the New Assets Only challenge. We saw many wonderful interpretations of the optional celestial theme, as well!

Once again, we've seen a huge variety in the styles of ghosts released, and many new and interesting angles explored! Please give every single one of them a try if you can, I promise it will be worth your time.

The full list of ghosts will be under the cut, or available on the event's website. Please check them out and show the devs some appreciation!

押し売りとババア

Authors: netai98 Challenges completed: - 72 Hour challenge - New Assets Only challenge Download

Under the Stars

Authors: Galla, YudiDoodles, Zichqec, おもちよいち (OmochiYoichi) Challenges completed: - 72 Hour challenge - New Assets Only challenge - Add an Extra challenge Download Downloadable extra: Balloon "Reflections of Starlight"

Duck Overload

Authors: Ecclysium, Blue Challenges completed: - 72 Hour challenge - New Assets Only challenge - Add an Extra challenge Download Downloadable extra: Balloon "Carnival on Quack"

Block Builder 2000

Authors: SmokyCinnamonRoll Challenges completed: - 72 Hour challenge - New Assets Only challenge - Add an Extra challenge Download Downloadable extra: Shell "Pixelated Simpleated"

Long Leg Bird (with top hat)

Authors: Vita/yuyudev Challenges completed: - 72 Hour challenge - New Assets Only challenge Download

Celeste

Authors: WhatAPhantasia Challenges completed: - Add an Extra challenge Content warnings: Verbal abuse, fictional political conflict, more in readme Download Downloadable extra: Balloon "Closed Solar Captions"

VKLE

Authors: Rosenheim, idk, Blue Download

Stumbling talk

Authors: Salt Challenges completed: - New Assets Only challenge Download

Artoria Caster

Authors: Verse, KFC Content warnings: more details on the download page Download

Star Reader

Authors: Kipali Challenges completed: - New Assets Only challenge Server exclusive - this ghost is currently only available in our Discord server!

LOBO

Authors: Okuajub, oldmanhorseface Content warnings: Religion, Surrealism Download

Lost in the sea of stars

Authors: Zdzisiu Challenges completed: - Add an Extra challenge Download Downloadable extra: Balloon "Scriblloon"

Lunar Leporidae

Authors: Vita/yuyudev, Decomakke Challenges completed: - New Assets Only challenge Download

HSR Trash Can - YAYA

Authors: Jerry Download

Lux

Authors: dransnake Challenges completed: - Add an Extra challenge Content warnings: Murder, Death, and Nightmares Download Downloadable extra: Balloon "Stardust"

Credit where Credit is Due

Authors: KFC Content warnings: Strong Language / Swearing Download

The Hunter

Authors: Softie, Digi Download

Stray Dogs Bar

Authors: Venelona Challenges completed: - New Assets Only challenge Content warnings: Suicide, Drugs/Alcohol, Mentions of violence Download

hazy days

Authors: idk, SmokyCinnamonRoll Challenges completed: - New Assets Only Content warnings: Insects, insect bite mentions Download Downloadable extra: Balloon "Ice Cream Cone"

Error

Authors: Heartstitched, Robanilla, Haze, Onlyplatonicirl, Vicen_non Challenges completed: - Add an Extra challenge Download Downloadable extra: Balloon "ERRORTEXT"

Zana's Laws

Authors: Galla, Zichqec, 月波清火 (Tsukinami Seika) Challenges completed: - New Assets Only challenge - Add an Extra challenge Content warnings: Eyes, mentions of death Download Downloadable extra: Balloon "Effortless Iridescence"

Nova

Authors: Amanda Challenges completed: - New Assets Only challenge Content warnings: Mentions of medical malpractice, mentions of death Download

Starwarden

Authors: WhatAPhantasia, Ecclysium, TechNekoKit, Autumnwrenvale, BlindedbyCreativity Challenges completed: - Add an Extra challenge Download Downloadable extra: Balloon "Connected Stars"

Galaxy Butterfly

Authors: Odie Download

Thank you so much to everyone who joined us! This event couldn't happen without so many people joining, inviting their friends along, supporting each other, and encouraging others along the way.

If you would like to help us continue to improve the event, we have a feedback form again this year! If you can spare a few minutes to fill it in, that information helps us greatly as we adjust things for next year's event.

Congratulations, everyone!

#Ukagaka #English Ukagaka #Ghost Jam #Ghost Jam 2024 #Event #Announcement #Ghost #Balloon #Shell

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detectivestucks2 · 1 month ago

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Escape with the Cursed King

Pairing: F!Reader x Sukuna

Summary: You start your new job at Jujutsu University serving as a professor and resident life coordinator with your best friend Gojo when you notice his student Yuji acting strange. You go on a dangerous mission together where all hell breaks loose.

Warnings: Mild violence but mostly fluff

Word Count: 4.7k

Art Credit: @akirasukuna

Next Chapter

Chapter 1

As a fresh graduate from Jujutsu University, you were enjoying the increased pay that came in your checks during your missions. A special grade sorcerer, graduating with honors a year early. Your favorite professor was none other than Saturo Gojo. Little did you know, that same professor was working behind the scenes trying to secure you a job that required less field work and would keep you local. All you knew is that he invited you for lunch at your favorite cafe which left you excited for your favorite signature macchiato.

You had just returned from a mission and stopped by your home to quick change into something more comfortable. The day was hot so you changed into a pair of jean shorts and a thin flowy top. Hair thrown up into a pony, you grab your phone and keys and head out to meet your favorite sorcerer.

As soon as you walk into the shop, Gojo is already at your usual table with two cups in front of him. You sit down, appreciative that he ordered for you and you strike up a conversation, catching up on everything you’ve done since graduating. Suddenly, out of nowhere, you blurt out what you had been thinking.

“So what did you have to ask?”

Gojo was by far your favorite professor. He always found a reason to talk to you after class and he happened to like a lot of the same things as you. He felt a lot less like a professor and much more like a friend. Your teamwork during exorcisms was impeccable. Your bodies and minds in sync with each other every step of the way.

Gojo looks down and then off to the side before he speaks. “Well you see, now that you’re no longer a student-”

“Yes.”

His eyes snap forward. “But you don’t know the question.”

“I don’t have to. Whatever it is, the answer is yes.”

Gojo had half a mind to ask you on a date if that’s the game you wanted to play but he didn’t want to show all of his cards. At least not yet.

“Now that you’re not a student, Jujutsu U would like to offer you full-time professorship.”

“No way! Really?!”

“Of course! You’re calm, collected, great with the students, impeccable battle instincts, and powerful as all hell.”

“I’m great with the students cause I’m literally their peer.” you say a bit deflated.

“Not true. They can call you their peer when they’re Special Grade.”

You can’t help the heat on your cheeks as the mighty Gojo reminds you of your new ranking.

“There is a catch.” he says.

“Knew it.”

“How’d you know there’d be a catch?”

“Cause with you there’s always a catch.”

“Is not!”

“Is to! It’s in your nature. You’re just too playful to not have a catch behind every deal.”

Gojo folds his arms feeling a bit insulted by your spot-on assessment which only makes you laugh. The sound is musical to his ear so he decides to forgive you and moves forward with his appeal.

“They need a professor who can also act as the Resident Life Director.”

“You mean the person who has to live in the dorms full time?”

“Yeah…usually they ask the younger professors who don’t have families yet.”

You think on it for a moment. Who wants to live in a dorm full time once they’re a real adult? Certainly not you. But it is a job…

You make some fake thinking noises, enjoying how it makes Gojo squirm, sitting on the edge of his seat. “Hmmm…hmmm…hm-”

*slam*

Gojo’s palm meets the table and you jump before you start laughing as his mini outburst.

“Relax Gojo, I’ll take it!”

A huge happy smile splits his face. Not only would he continue to see you regularly at work, but now you were his peer. He was free to hang out with you socially, rather than always looking for an educational reason behind every visit and you liked the idea of starting a job where you already had a favorite coworker.

That summer, before the start of your teaching career, you and Gojo spent nearly every day together. He had become your best friend and your most trusted ally. There was not a single lunch spent without his silver mop gracing your presence, his big personality surrounding the table even when it was only the two of you. His oceanic eyes gleaming behind his signature sunglasses. You were thick as thieves by the time the school year came around.

Since you were so young they had you with the freshman in introductory courses. You couldn’t complain. The work was easy and the job was fun. The only part you didn’t like was living in a dorm year round with no option to get an apartment of your own.

During the beginning of the school year there was someone knocking at your door every night till you finally got them to rely on their RA’s. The only plus side is that you had a suite rather than the typical dorm room so at least you had your own bathroom instead of being forced to shower in the communal one.

But nevertheless, you had to walk through the dorm hallways to get to your front door which meant having gentleman callers was out of the question. You even felt funny having Gojo over once the school year started. However you weren’t supposed to spend too many evenings beyond the dorms so you were a bit stuck, spending most nights alone.

One evening you invited Gojo over for a movie marathon. He sent you a text that he arrived and you went to the front of the building to let him in. As the two of you walked together up to your suite he ran into a few of his sophomores. The group was only two years younger than you yet they seemed plenty powerful. The one named Megumi was a bit brooding but you could tell he had a very gentle and kind soul. Kugisaki was fiery but also super fun and girly. Then there was the lovable Yuji. He was overflowing with kindness and seemed to be Gojo’s favorite which only left you with a twinge of jealousy since that used to be your role. The five of you had a lively conversation before you mentioned how late it was and that you’d never finish your movie at a decent time if you waited much longer. You said your goodbyes and carried on with your evening as planned, falling asleep on the couch next to Gojo.

The following weeks you went out of your way to say hi to Gojo’s students when you saw them in the hallway. However Yuji, who you had such a strong first impression of, started to leave your arm hair standing on end. Constantly staring at you with a serious face, muttering to himself, and sometimes even looking like a deer caught in headlights. You couldn’t figure out what his deal was. His bizarre behavior was creeping you out so you decided to bring this up to Gojo during your weekly rendezvous at the cafe.

“Gojo, what’s Yuji’s deal?”

Gojo spits out his coffee, staining his dark blue shirt.

“Why? You like him? Cause you can’t date a student you know, even if you’re close in age.”

“What?! Oh! No! Nonononono! Nothing like that.” you say feeling your cheeks turn red.

“Well then why did you ask what his deal was?”

“I mean like…how do I put this? I mean more of what’s…wrong with him?” you finish the question in a higher pitch than the rest, trying to take the sting off the rude question pointed at his favorite kid.

Gojo has himself a fit as he doubles over in laughter.

“Gojo…Gojo! What’s so funny?! I don’t like when you do this.” you say as you adorably cross your arms in a huff of anger. Gojo calms himself and wipes the tears from his sparkling eyes before explaining.

“Well you see, Yuji is…well he’s special.”

“What does that mean?”

“He has…he has a curse living in him.”

“He has a curse living in him?”

“Like a vessel.”

You gasp and your hands fly up to your mouth in comprehension. “Sukuna’s vessel?!”

“That’s the one!”

“Oh my gods! He must be incredibly strong!”

“He’s still new but yes, he has profound potential.”

“But what does that have to do with all the staring and the muttering, and the scarred looks he’s been giving me?”

Gojo laughs again.

“Stop that would you?!”

“Sorry Sunshine, it’s just, I can only imagine what’s going on in Yuji’s head if he’s behaving like that.”

“What does that even mean?!”

“It means Sukuna’s talking to him.”

“Sukuna’s what?!”

“I bet Sukuna’s interested in you for some reason and Yuji’s having a high time of it. Oh this is rich.”

You however, fail to see the humor. The King of Curses took notice of you and now some poor sophomore is stuck arguing with him about it? But also can we take a pause to focus on the fact that Yuji is likely talking to the bloody King of Curses about you?!

You have every right to be both nervous and confused.

Was he planning on harming you? Were you his next target? What if Yuji couldn’t control Sukuna and one evening he’s pounding on your door? You didn’t like this speck of news one bit. And why did Gojo seem so unconcerned?

“Gojo! This is serious! Why are you laughing?!”

“Relax, I wouldn’t let him kill you. I’ll talk to Yuji about it later.”

“Gojo” you deadpan

“Look, I know this could mean trouble but you’re a special grade and you live here” he waves his hand around the room, “surrounded by many of the strongest sorcerers of our time. There’s no place safer for you.”

“Yeah except that he sleeps down the hall from me and it’s not like you live with me!”

“I could fix that.” he says casually as he lifts his cup to his lips.

You roll your eyes before deadpanning once more. “Gojo, be serious please.”

“I am serious!”

“No! Absolutely not. The students will jump to conclusions and I don’t need that.”

“Well what do you suggest then?”

You chew your bottom lip in thought. “I don’t know, let me think about it at least.”

“Sure thing sweetheart.”

“Sweetheart?! No Saturo.”

The silver haired man tosses his head back in laughter, hiding his blush at you calling him by his first name for a change.

You let out a light chuckle and finish your coffee, shaking your head at your friend with a slight flutter in your chest in spite of yourself.

The next few days Gojo stops by to visit more often but he seems completely unbothered by the situation with Yuji. You didn’t appreciate how casually he was treating this, especially when Yuji wouldn’t fess up to what Sukuna was thinking. All Gojo could get out of him was silence and a red flushed face.

Part of you wondered if Gojo already knew but he didn’t want to scare you and that was why he was over at your place all of the time, till one day he asked for you to join his team on a mission.

“Do you really think that’s wise?”

“Of course. They’ve shown they’re capable but they’re only sophomores, we’ll need all the help we can get with this one.”

“No, I mean” you dart your eyes to the side, “with Sukuna and all…”

“Oh that, it’ll be fine. I’m sure of it.”

You look up at him, your eyes worried and watery

“Look sweetheart, I’m sure Yuji would’ve told me if you were in any real danger. He’s not the kind of guy to put anyone at risk.”

Still unsure of his answer, you tentatively agree to join his mission and set up for a substitute to cover your classes for the rest of the week.

The next morning the five of you pile into the black SUV at the front of the University and head over to a penitentiary a few towns away.

The entire drive Yuji is staring at his feet, a pink tint on his cheeks to match his hair and shaking his head every few minutes as if he’s trying to bring himself back to reality.

You can’t say you feel comfortable or your doubts are put at ease but you trust Saturo’s judgment and so you take a deep breath and settle into your seat.

“We’re almost there” a deep voice calls from the front of the car after nearly eighty minutes.

Only a few minutes go by before you feel the wheels roll to a stop.

“We’re here.”

Gojo hops out first and opens the door for you. The heel of your foot touches the pavement as you stand before the dreary fence surrounding an ominous castle-like prison.

“Wow” you whisper “I can feel the cursed energy from out here. This one’s strong.”

“Strong barely begins to describe it.”

As each of his students stands next to you, their faces fall in awe as their bodies register the magnitude of the cursed energy radiating beyond the gray walls of the fortress before them.

You dryly swallow before stepping forward to create the barrier, closely followed by Gojo and Yuji. Megumi and Kugisaki. The five of you disappear inside the purple bubble you created as you head towards the curse in question.

The overwhelming presence of energy causes tiny bumps to span the skin of your arms and back. Your hair stands on end and you are grateful to have Gojo with you.

You jump as his large palm hits your shoulder but you are quickly comforted as you turn your head and look up into his oceanic eyes. He nods at you and you gather your wits.

The feeling of energy is so strong that it is hard to discern where the cursed spirit is residing. You squeeze Gojo’s bicep to stop him as you close your eyes. A small grunt is heard from Yuji as your feet come to a stop next to Gojo’s side and you hold onto him, signaling him to guard your body as you sense the spirit’s whereabouts.

Your mind scans each corridor and cell, racing down the halls till a man’s screams ring in your ears. All your senses zero in on the man’s location and your eyes snap open.

“There”

The five of you run, crashing through the fence and hurdling your bodies down the halls towards the source of the sound. As you approach the blood curdling sounds, you start to realize you are entering a nest.

“No wonder we were struggling to sense the location of the curse, there are hundreds of them.”

“The screaming must be coming from the epicenter”

“Agreed”

“Megumi, can your shikigami handle these lower grades?”

“Of course.” he says with a nod.

“I’ll help” Kugisaki shouts at your retreating figures.

“When you’re done, come join us!”

“We will!”

As the three of you continue towards the center of the nest you start to realize the low grade curses look like identical clones of the same 5 cursed spirits.

“Saturo, look!”

“Interesting…I wonder if they are the children of this special grade.”

“Children! You think it’s reproducing?! At what rate?!”

“Maybe not actual children but it can turn itself into segments. Perhaps it’s spawning them.”

“So what’s the plan? Encourage it to keep breaking down into its clones and kill it off slowly as a grade 3 curse?”

“That’s a plan, but if it catches on or grows too weak, it may stop producing segments.”

“Right”

“We need to face it head on.”

“Not everyone has the limitless technique I hope you know!” You shout as Gojo quickens his pace before breaking out into an excited run.

He is almost…enjoying this?

Acting like a young sorcerer rather than the calm collected professor you knew and admired. Gojo looks over his shoulder and shouts back at you, “I thought you were a Special Grade! Did I promote you too soon?”

“Shut up!”

Loud laughter echoes in front of you till you turn the corner and see the hallway comes to an abrupt end. The curse has smashed the cinder block walls, creating a false courtyard in the ward's center. You look up to what should be the third floor then gulp as you turn to gaze down at the first, realizing it’s only a short fall away.

You shake the negative thoughts out of your mind.

“You alright?”

“Yes Saturo. I’m fine”

“I’ll take the left, you take the right.”

Gojo’s silver hair slips out of sight as he masterfully disappears behind the gargantuan blue curse.

Similar to Saturo’s old partner, Geto, you had a way of convincing cursed spirits to do your bidding, manipulating them into exorcizing themselves. You didn’t have to absorb them, just touch them on their forehead. It was always risky to find an opening to touch their faces, but once you do the battle is won.

One way you create your opening is by inhaling the cursed energy radiating around the spirit itself and blowing it out as a knife. The vapor-like daggers serve as a distraction and can be effective weapons. It is a skill that turned many heads when you first started out in school and one that has saved your ass more times than you can count.

You remember the day you met Gojo. He had heard the stories and wanted to see your technique. He came up to you nonchalant and in his buttery, suave voice made a bet that you couldn’t create the daggers from his cursed energy. The challenge tugged at the corner of your lip and as discreetly as possible, you pulled cursed energy through your nose and turned to walk away. When Gojo called out after you, you spun around and spit out the purple knives that he effortlessly blocked with his technique. It was that day that you became his favorite student.

You feel a swell of pride at the memory before you come back to the present.

You gaze up and realize the azure spirit has spotted you. It turned to face you when you inhale and spit out your signature daggers. The creature roars above you and responds with a fleet of new clones melting out of his stomach and storming the rubble.

“I guess you don’t feel like talking. Fine then.”

You dodge the attacks of the segments and bounce off the walls of the corridor. Each small curse was the size of a human and you had to admit that it felt similar to fighting off a mob with only a few knives.

Artfully you slice through the decoys trying to get back to the Special Grade. You see Gojo float through the air ready to make his move when one of the prison’s security officers pulls out a gun and fires at the curse.

“Idiot!”

Gojo’s concentration is broken. He lands on the ground gracefully while glaring at the moron of a guard who thought an ordinary bullet would work on an invisible monster.

“What are you doing here? Run!” He shouts.

The curse reabsorbs several of its segments and steps towards the man. You touch the foreheads of two segments surrounding you and send them to defend the guard. The confusion on the Special Grade’s face is evident when it sees its clones defying orders.

“How??” It shouts in a voice reminiscent of a satanic ritual.

“Now he wants to talk” you mutter to yourself.

Soon you realize that all the clones who look like the two segments you touched have joined you in the destroyed corridor of the prison. They seem to have a mental connection to eachother and your technique was passed onto the identical clones. All of them surround the prison guard in a protective stance ready for civil war.

“Huh…well that’s cool.” you muse to yourself

Gojo, seeing an opening, rushes to get the nearby prisoners and guards he sees hidden out of the area and to a safer location. He knows you have things covered here and will be able to exorcize the spirit soon.

The Special Grade rounds on you once again, crying out in an autotuned voice. “You! You did this!”

A large blue hand extends out to swat at you. You drop to the floor to avoid both the creature’s flesh and the falling rubble of the walls that the spirit pounded through as it swung at you.

You come back up to your feet and wipe the dust off your sweaty brow.

“And what if I did?” you finally retort.

After a large breath you spit out your daggers. The curse shouts in response to the assault and spawns more segments to harm you. The segments that are under your control begin to fight with the other three clone types.

With the foot soldiers fighting amongst themselves you had an opening to take the curse on mono e mono.

You back up and run full speed down the hall, sprinting towards the Special Grade and launching yourself into the air as you reach the tattered edge of the floor. You leap up the giant’s arms aiming to run up its biceps, shoulders, and neck, and plant your palm between its brows.

You bound as fast as your legs will carry you but the spirit begins to reach for you and slap its arms, swatting at you like a fly. You blow knives at it but they are little more than splinters to him. Suddenly his giant palm finds you and your body thuds against the thick, tough, navy skin as his fingers wrap around your body. You scream and shout for Gojo but he is not near you. The only response you can hear is faint yelling from the distance.

The special grade’s grip closes around you and you can feel your bones giving way to its strength. You scream in pain and try to use your dagger technique as you feel darkness tunnel your vision.

Suddenly the pressure releases and you feel as if you are falling into the abyss.

So this is what death feels like…it’s nice.

A warmth surrounds you, embracing your body like a hug as the pain that was inflicted upon you slowly ebbs away. Dying in battle was far more pleasant than expected.

Why is everyone so afraid of this?

You can hear them shouting and screaming from a distance. You wish you could tell them it’s okay. You’re okay...

Suddenly the warm embrace is ripped away from you and your body lands on the ground after a short fall, almost as if someone dropped you as they kneeled down in the rubble. You hit the back of your head and reach your hand to nurse the bump.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“Professor! I’m so sorry! I-“

“Get away from her!” Gojo’s voice booms from across the yard and you suddenly realize you are hearing Yuji’s whimpers as he runs away to the opposite end of the space.

“What happened?!”

Gojo’s question oozes with a worry you had never heard before. “Professor-“ Kugusaki started but quickly cut herself off as she looked down at you still lying on the floor. “I think it best if we talk in private.”

Gojo gives you a quick once over before tearing his eyes off of you to reluctantly step away.

The two of them walk across the makeshift courtyard created by the monster and you are left looking towards Megumi for comfort.

“What’s going on? I thought I died but somehow…I’m fine?” You scan over your body and realize you are perfectly unharmed. Did you faint? How did you come out unscathed and why is everyone freaking out? Did Gojo exorcize the curse?

Aww man…I wanted to exorcize it.

Megumi uncomfortably clears his throat and shifts his weight.

“Umm…well, umm”

“Umm what?”

“Well…Yuji he uh, he healed you.”

“Yuji healed me?” You say thick with doubt knowing full well a reverse technique like that cannot be used by a human only by a…shit.

Megumi sees comprehension blanket your face.

“Megumi, did-did Yuji command Sukuna to heal me?”

“It wasn’t so much Yuji commanding Sukuna as it was…Sukuna commanding Yuji.”

“Are you…are you saying Sukuna…save me?”

“I guess, if that’s how you want to put it.”

It was clear that Megumi felt as if he divulged information he shouldn’t have, so he turned his back to you, acting as a lookout. You slowly sit up and get to your feet, brushing the ash off of you as you realize the majority of the surrounding area has been charred to a crisp. It was as if you were looking at the remnants of an explosion. "What the..." The entire area was devastated. You were amazed that only the curses were killed and not your entire team. How it was possible, you did not know. However, the thoughts that ran through your head focused on Sukuna.

He saved me. But why? If he was planning on harming me, why would he save me?

Gojo and Kugisaki return from their conversation and you can see that Saturo’s face if strained with discomfort. What had Kugisaki witnessed that you didn’t know about? The entire situation left your stomach in knots.

Gojo walks up to you and stares deep into your eyes. Worry is etched on his face and he grabs your bicep. He scans your entire face and down your body before making eye contact once more.

“Gojo, I-”

But the sentence dies on your tongue. He releases your arm and walks away towards the SUV waiting outside. The five of you silently enter and you take your seat first before the rest of the crew pile in.

As Yuji enters you can see him twitch as if fighting the urge to sit next to you and you shutter knowing it has something to do with Sukuna.

With a firm hand, Gojo pushes Yuji toward the back seats and Yuji looks relieved to have some assistance controlling his body’s actions.

Saturo sits down next to you and rests his hand on your thigh. You look over at his slender figure and realize he is scared for your safety. Your mind is a swirling mess of thoughts and once you reach the University you are more than grateful to disappear straight to your home despite Gojo’s attempt to pull you to the side and debrief.

Once inside the threshold of your apartment you lock your door and latch the chain. Allowing yourself to slide down to the floor and unpack the heavy emotions that come with dying and being revived by the King of Curses. Your swirling thoughts kept circling back to ‘why’. Eventually the exhaustion of the day weighs down your eyelids and you decide to get ready for an early bedtime.

You stumble to the bathroom, brushing your teeth before tying your hair up in a messy bun. You collapse onto your bed, lazily pulling the blanket over your hips and slip into a sound sleep.

“Princess…”

A groan passes your lips at the light taps to your shoulder.

“Princess…”

You go to swat at the hand when it catches your wrist in a firm grip.

“That’s no way to treat your rescuer.”

Your eyes shoot open and you turn to face the deep voice belonging to the hand.

“S-sukuna?”

“Hello, Princess. How do you feel?”

“How did you get in? The emergency latch-”

“You really think a little bit of metal is going to stop me?”

“Well-I-no, but-”

“Silly humans. Always so confused when you’re tired.”

His pointed fingernail traces along your forehead, down to your chin, and you shudder as you realize the affection he is displaying by the action.

“How are you feeling?”

You pause as you look at him in shock.

“Answer me.”

“I-I feel tired.”

“But are you in pain?”

“No, I am not in pain.”

“Good.”

The tattooed face of Yuji stands up tall.

“Why didn’t Yuji just ask me this?”

“Cause the pest wants me to stay away from you. He thinks I might hurt you.”

“What do you mean? You saved me.”

“He thinks I am only capable of destruction. ‘Today proves it’ he says. Psh. So I had to wait for the brat to fall asleep before I could take over this pathetic form and check on you.”

“But why would you want to check on me?”

“To make sure it worked.”

You’re stunned into silence for a moment. “But why save me? I don’t understand.”

“Of course you wouldn’t Princess.” he says as he walks towards your bedroom door.

“Wait, please…” But Yuji’s alter ego continues his way out of your suite and you are left with questions swarming your tired mind.

Don’t go.

But as the need enters your brain everything fades to black and you sleep till noon the next day.

Chapter 2

#jjk smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna fanfic #sukuna ryomen #new series #sukuna #kinktober #detectivestucks #sukuna stories #sukuna x reader #sukuna jjk #sukuna romance #ryomen x reader

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clockwork-ashes · 2 months ago

Text

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part XXVI

Find all previous parts on Ao3 :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge thank you to the lovely @sad-scarred-sassy who deserves all the credit for the post that inspired me to start writing this :) Another huge thank you to everyone reading! ALSO please look at this post, I gasped it's so lovely. All of @teddyhoneybear's moodboards are stunning <3

Tag List: @anishake / @nocasdatsgay / @mybestfriendmademe / @talibunny30 / @halfbutneverwhole / @wishfulimaginings / @goldenmagnolias / @emmers-bens123 / @cauldronblssd / @xirose / @rarephloxes / @thehighlordishere / @the-darkestminds /

Lucien could barely hold back his smile.

Elain was close to his side, pressed against him so that only her skirts were between them. Her one hand was holding onto his own, their fingers linked together and inseparable, while the other was clutching his arm comfortably. She was telling him about Nesta and Feyre, how the two always argued because they were so similar. There was a sparkle in her brown eyes, a brightness that only came when she spoke about those who she loved.

Beautiful.

Lucien found his mate particularly stunning when she was unworried and at ease. Loose curls escaped the confines of her braid, and he had to fight the urge to hook the strands of hair behind her pointed ears.

“Do you think that’s why you and Eris don’t get along?” She asked innocently, genuine curiosity clear as she tilted her chin to look up at him. “You’re too much alike?”

Lucien cringed, knowing he had wrinkled his nose in displeasure. He could scarcely remember the last time anyone had compared him with any of his brothers. “Don’t offend me,” he mumbled.

Elain laughed, the sound as lovely as daybreak. It echoed prettily in the empty corridors of the Forest House, ringing around them just as surely as it did in Lucien’s mind for moments after she had stopped.

Lucien shook his head with a frown as he remembered that they were walking to the study Eris had claimed as his own decades before he had even been born. He could still recall hiding among the neatly organised bookshelves, escaping to the cosy space even when Beron’s eldest son was not home. “I still can’t believe you told him.”

Eris had suggested that Elain try and release some of the pent up magic, claiming it was dangerous to do so with no training. While Lucien actually agreed, he was still not sure how he felt about his brother’s steadily increasing involvement in their lives. In two days, they would be back in Velaris, the business with the wedding finally over. He secretly hoped Eris would drop the subject after their departure. Lucien, in any case, could not imagine the Autumn Court male going to the Hewn City despite the promise he had made to work on Elain’s abilities until she became more confident.

She shrugged, hardly concerned. “I foresee he’ll be a great help to us.” There was a restrained amusement to her words, the feeling trickling down the bond so Lucien could easily sense that she was merely teasing.

“The number of jokes at your disposal is unmatched,” he said, knocking his shoulder playfully into her side.

Elain grinned up at him, her dark eyebrow raised in challenge. She opened her full lips to respond, but her expression quickly transformed into one of concern. She pulled him to a stop, her head turning in the opposite direction.

Lucien was immediately alert, trusting her instincts just as well as his own. His muscles tensed as his ears caught the low sound of shouts coming from the hallway leading to the throne room.

“What’s happening?” She asked, just above a whisper. He could practically see her analysing the situation, weighing what she knew about Autumn and those that lived within the confines of the Forest House.

Assassination attempt.

The thought crashed around in Lucien’s skull for a moment, the familiarity of the feeling returning, a reminder of his past. It had happened before, enough so that Eris had taught him to sleep with his bed pushed to a wall, to ensure that his back was never exposed. He had to get Elain away, wanted to winnow her somewhere she would be safe but had no idea if there was a place secure enough within the court.

The torches flared around them, bright as the sun, and stayed that way. Lucien balanced Elain as she stumbled with a sudden yelp in her effort to move further from the walls. Embers fell to the stone floors like shooting stars, disappearing almost as soon as they had flickered to life.

The raw burst of power was one Lucien would have known anywhere. He had, after all, learned how to wield his own abilities at Eris’s side.

Realisation dawned on him, slower than dripping honey. The shouts continued to travel down the empty hall, and he easily identified the distinct voice of each of his brothers. “If I ask you to stay here, will you?” He addressed his mate, trying to keep the concern from his tone, but failing miserably.

Elain pressed her lips together, shaking her head slightly, a charming dimple appearing on her pale cheek. “Not a chance.”

Lucien sighed. He had expected her answer, but was still worried about her well-being. “Just promise you’ll keep your distance.” If Elain was anything like her sisters, he figured she would despise being kept far from the commotion.

She squeezed his hand to reassure him. “I promise.” It would have been too much to ask for his brothers to be on their best behaviour for a fortnight, Lucien thought coldly. They began to walk once again, this time in the direction of the continued shouts.

Stay close.

Lucien hoped the message came across clearly on the bridge between their souls. He would never forgive himself if something happened to Elain, but he knew the trust built between them would have crumbled had he forbidden her from coming with him. As they approached, the muffled shouts became easier to understand, and when they finally turned the corner, they could do nothing but pause and watch.

Eris was loud, his words an angry snarl. “Consider for a moment how easy it would be for me to kill you both and simply be done with this.” He was standing in the middle of Ronan and Felix, using his body to separate them. Taller than both, the span of his arms ensured they stayed away from one another.

Despite being a courtier and much smaller in size than Ronan, Felix lunged. Lucien sensed Elain’s confusion down the bond, her feelings mirroring his own. He had assumed the two were on good terms, had even witnessed as much during their short time in Autumn. While he knew nothing ever stayed the same in the Forest House, he was surprised by the swift moving game everyone played.

Eris shoved Felix away roughly, stopping the younger male in his tracks, ensuring that a physical altercation did not begin.

“Stay out of it,” Felix spat, expression murderous. He whirled on their eldest brother, directing his anger at him instead. Lucien could tell that Eris preferred it, could practically see the way he adjusted his stance in anticipation for things to quickly turn into a more violent direction.

“Can’t you see he’s itching for a fight, brother.” Ronan called, a slur to his words. It took Lucien a moment to realise that he must have been drunk. “Perhaps he needs to learn a lesson.”

Felix smiled, looking every bit a snake with fangs. He ran a hand over the sleeve of his opposite arm, a flash of silver appearing at the cuff, a silent message.

Eris seemed to have spotted it just as Lucien had, his entire body pulled taut. He looked like a warrior as he straightened his shoulders. “Enough,” he snapped, flames in his amber eyes, embers falling from the tips of his fingers. On most occasions, the tone would have frightened the rest of his brothers into yielding, but whatever had begun the argument was not so easily settled.

“Fuck off,” Felix clipped, stepping around Eris and right into Ronan’s line of sight.

Callum suddenly appeared next to Lucien, winnowing into the space effortlessly. Elain turned to look at him, but he did not even spare her a glance. He sighed loudly, rubbing a hand over his face, the action tired. “What could it be this time?”

Lucien shook his head, watching the scene continue to unfold in front of him. No weapons had yet been drawn, but the threat was there.

“Should we do something?” Elain wondered quietly, more to herself than to him and Callum.

Lucien bit his lip, considering. “We might just make it worse,” he said, knowing from experience how volatile fights between his siblings could become.

No sooner had the words left his mouth, Ronan threw a wicked stream of fire at Felix, the power strong enough to make the younger male shift on his feet. There were no burns, no fabric singed. It was clearly a warning, one that had Callum inching closer.

Callum approached the small group just in time for Felix’s answering magic to fly by him, hitting a decorative vase. It fell to the floor and shattered, tiny pieces dusting the stone like snowflakes. Almost like the toll of a bell ringing before a blood duel, the sound had each of his brothers springing into action.

Lucien watched as Eris was caught in the middle of both Felix and Ronan. The way they hit each other was brutal, and no amount of Callum pulling on any of them was enough to end the fight.

There was more yelling as Eris tried to convince them to stop, but their voices rose over the sound, arguing about something Lucien had no context for. He tried to catch onto any key words, but was unable to piece a clear picture together.

“Stay here,” Lucien mumbled, stepping away from Elain. She held onto his shirtsleeve, and he added a quick, “please.”

“I don’t think—”

Lucien did not wait for her to finish, winnowing into the fray. She would have asked him not to intervene, and he would not have been able to refuse her. The wind was quickly knocked out of him as Callum was shoved backwards right into his chest, an elbow catching him in the ribs. There was no time for apologies as they all attempted to find purchase on the nearest clothing item, pulling and trying to create distance between Felix and Ronan.

Lucien heard Elain call out his name, glad that she still remained far, that she had not attempted to move closer for a better look. His relief was short-lived as Felix twisted, throwing all of his body weight at him.

“You shouldn’t have come back,” Felix hissed as they fell to the ground in a tangled heap. It was low enough that no one else would have heard, the words making Lucien uneasy.

Exile.

Felix had been a vicious child, cunning and manipulative and always eager to impress their father. While he and Lucien had been close in age, a few short years separating them, they had never gotten along. The constant comparison had forged competition between them, ensuring that they were never allies.

Lucien moved roughly, his shoulder hitting Felix so hard he drew blood. The copper scent lingered in the air as he scrambled to his feet, breathing ragged.

Felix stayed on the ground, a scarlet trail falling from his nose and running over his lips. It gave him a wild impression, fire flickering in his gaze. “You bastard,” he snarled, the insult venomous falling from his mouth. Lucien flinched, his eye whirring.

“Enough.”

The word fell over Lucien, echoing in the space. It was the direct order of a High Lord and there was no other choice but to listen.

Lucien watched as Felix paled, noticing how the sound of Ronan fighting with Eris stopped immediately. He turned to see their father standing next to Elain, a crown made of oak leaves resting on his chestnut coloured hair. His mate looked small, her hands curled into fists at her sides. She was obviously worried, but she stayed frozen in place, hardly recoiling at the power leaking from the ancient creature near her.

When it was obvious that he held each of his sons’ attention, he turned a sharp gaze on Felix. “Is that any way to speak when a lady is present?”

His brother’s lip curled up in anger, as though he were ready to argue. There was blood on his teeth, giving him the appearance of a predator. Beron raised a hand, stopping him before he even started. “Is it, Felix?”

Everyone held their breath, an unnatural silence in the corridor. Lucien’s eyes flicked between the two males and his mate, wondering what he might do if the situation became explosive. “No,” his brother uttered, the word strained, like it was being pulled out of him against his will.

Eris moved, the shift small, but Beron saw it from the corner of his eye. Their father shot him a withering glare, warning evident in the tight pull of his mouth. “Where are your manners, child?”

Felix bristled at the insult. Lucien could see him weighing the idea of his punishment, considering how angry Beron was to determine his choice. “You have my apologies, lady,” he said, a restrained anger in his tone. He dipped his chin mechanically, a mockery of a bow.

Elain stayed still, looking like the statues of Day, regal and unbothered. Her silence added to the tense atmosphere as they all waited to see what Beron would say next.

Their father simply nodded. “Leave the fighting until our guests are gone,” he ordered. There was collective relief amongst Lucien and his brothers as they realised there would be no further punishment. The humiliation seemed to be enough for Beron, a testament perhaps to him being in a good mood.

The High Lord winnowed without a word, snuffing all of the torches in the hall. Plunged into a few short moments of darkness left Lucien disoriented, he barely realised that Eris was standing behind him. The fires were lit easily, and he could not decide which one of his brothers had done so. He barely gave it any thought, not when Elain ran to him, skirts in hand, her eyes wide with worry.

Lucien half saw as Felix swatted Callum’s outstretched hand, refusing any help and getting up inelegantly. Blood had stained the collar of his brother’s shirt, and for a moment guilt flooded his senses.

Felix spat onto the floor, scarlet smattering the pale stone, before he marched away. There were dancing embers flowing behind him, Callum following at a safe distance.

You shouldn’t have come back.

Lucien pushed Felix’s words to the back of his mind, focusing on the comforting hand Eris placed on his shoulder. The gesture was more kindness than he had received from his eldest brother in centuries, but the warmth from his palm was gone quickly as Eris moved towards Ronan.

Elain grabbed onto Lucien’s wrist, the contact enough to settle his rapidly beating heart. She tucked herself into his chest, letting him wrap an arm around her waist. He glanced at his remaining brothers, keeping his mate close.

“You should have stayed in Night,” Ronan said gruffly, straightening his jacket.

It was unclear to Lucien whether the comment was directed at him or Elain.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #elucien #lucien vanserra #elain archeron #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #beron vanserra #vanserra brothers #autumn court #all you have is your fire #ashes writes sometimes #thank you for reading <3 #i had to include a fight between brothers in this fic LOL #next chapter elain and lucien get closer ;)

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