#i Think this is sfw enough for the event but there is a fade to black in it.

[lorefulevil]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Martyn Littlewood | InTheLittleWood/Rendog Characters: Martyn Littlewood | InTheLittleWood, Rendog, The Watchers (Evolution SMP) Additional Tags: Treebark Week 2024, Unreliable Narration, Fade to Black, intrusive thoughts and vaguely dissociative symptoms, Minor Character Death Summary:

Odd that, when Ren looked at him, Martyn was the one who felt naked. He was glad to settle himself on the footstool behind the tub, out of sight; glad that all the mirrors in the room were broken or fogged. Ren tipped his head back and let his long hair spill into Martyn’s hands. Martyn filled the jug and sluiced water over his head, careful not to let it run into his eyes, and Ren sighed. “Feels nice.”

It's one of the bad days, and the Hand washes his king's hair. For @treebarkweek Day 5!

[seiwas]

prompt: fingertips trailing, not used to this feeling + “please stay. for me?”

summary: college parties can be loud, but it's quiet in this bubble you and shouto have made for yourselves at the end of this couch.

wc: 1.6k

contains: gn!reader, college!au, cameos from everyone else in the gang, mentions of alcohol (it's a college party after all!!), friends to ???, fluff, sfw

co-written by @stellamancer as part of our milestone event collab: keep this love unspoken (tell me as loud as you can) [closed]

At some point of every college party your friends drag you to, you always end up here: in some corner of the house, sitting on a couch as you watch Kirishima perform some ridiculous dare that Kaminari somehow put him up to. With Sero filming, of course. 

Sometimes their roles switch, and Ashido and Jiro get added into the mix—not you though, nope. 

During parties like this, you always stake claim to the far end of the couch, nursing one of Yaoyorozu’s concoctions in your hand. You’re happy just to watch them this way—your little friend group formed through spiderwebs of shared classes and friends of friends. 

“So, she tries to tell him how she feels, right? But…” Uraraka tattles, leaning closer to your ear as she hangs off the armrest beside you. 

The music settles into a muffled backdrop for her animated storytelling, always the ever-sweetheart who ensures you’re in the loop with everything. You nod along, the corners of your mouth curling. Your legs cross over one another to sink more comfortably into soft cushion, the slight buzz in your head settling you to relax.

In the middle of Uraraka’s retelling of events, you feel the space beside you dip, a presence almost imperceptible if not for the low ‘hello’ that accompanies it. 

There’s a practiced ease to the way its owner slips beside you, as if done plenty of times before (in lecture halls and restaurant booths, library sessions and entirely too-cramped car rides home). 

“Shouto,” your eyes widen, surprise melting into relief.

You’d kind-of been hoping he’d come. 

“You made it.” 

He nods, lips curling into a small smile. The gray lines on his navy blue flannel stand out softly atop the textured ridges of corduroy; his red cup holds suspiciously purple liquid—a good reason he’s left it untouched. 

“I was told I would be the designated driver.” 

Your lips curve over the edge of your cup, stifling your smile. Shouto has a bit of an awkward stiffness to how he speaks, a semi-formality to the way he arranges his sentences—but you find that endearing about him; much like you do his bluntness, and his unintentionally funny side comments, and the way he would so willingly forego drinking in lieu of his responsibility to drive your friend group home later on. 

It’s endearing, because he turns to you most times after dropping the gutsiest quips to some of Bakugo’s (fake) insults—as if he’s waiting for your reaction, hoping you’d give one. You’re pretty sure a one-sided bickering with the blond resulted in him showing up here. 

It’s endearing, because you’ve had this crush on Shouto since your first year of college; since he slid himself into the seat beside yours for one of your Chemistry classes, much like he did just moments ago. 

And you think, that maybe, with the way he always gravitates towards you, that there might just be something. 

The weight pressed beside you is distracting, his thigh warm against yours. There’s a triangular cut-out of space by your hips, hidden to everyone else but occupied by you, Shouto, and the almost-touching of your fingertips. You’re close enough to catch the faint notes of washed violet leaf and pea—he always smells like the faded remnants of his cologne blended into detergent and baby powder. 

“Well, look who finally decided to show up!” Ashido’s voice is loud, booming into the space between you and Shouto. “About time!” 

“Hello to you too.” His voice is cool and cordial, unaffected by Ashido’s rambunctious energy. 

She blinks at him and looks around as if she's searching for something for a minute before asking, “...where's Bakugo?” 

“Not here,” Shouto says. “He said that he didn't want to ‘be at some dumb party with a bunch of drunkass losers.’” 

You can’t help but giggle a little, while the words are undeniably Bakugo, hearing them in Shouto’s measured tone is kind of funny. If Bakugo were here, though, you feel like he'd complain, about what—you're not sure. 

Ashido clicks her tongue in annoyance. “He's missing out. I think even Blasty Boy would get a kick out of the spicy food challenge that Kirishima put Kaminari up to.” 

Spicy food challenge? With alcohol? It sounds like a recipe for disaster, one that you're hesitant to watch. 

You can feel the warmth of someone's gaze on you and when you look, you find Ashido eyeing you coyly, like she knows something you don't. Then her eyes slide over to Uraraka. 

“Ochako, you wanna come watch?” 

The question startles the other girl a little as she sits up, looking a bit hesitant and you have no doubt that she's just as eager as you are to see Kaminari make a mess of himself. 

“I don't know…” she murmurs.

“Come on, it'll be funny!” Ashido insists, but when that doesn't seem to convince her, Ashido’s gaze turns sharp, giving a meaningful look that communicates something with her eyes alone. 

“I guess I'll come. Someone has to keep Kirishima from going too crazy.”

Ashido grins widely and gives you and Shouto a little wink before skipping away.

When Uraraka excuses herself, you finally turn to Shouto, pointing your head at his drink, “Momo’s?”

He shakes his head, stray strands of red hair brushing against the tips of his eyelashes,  “Mineta.”

“Ah.” 

That explains why his drink looks untouched. Among your friends, there are only two self-proclaimed amateur bartenders: Yaoyorozu, who’s given herself a bartender name—Creati, and Mineta, who everyone calls Grape Juice, because no matter what he puts in his drinks (and only God really knows what goes in it), they always end up a sickly deep purple. 

Your response earns you a barely concealed chuckle from Shouto, his lips lifting into a soft smile. 

“Are you enjoying so far?” he leans in closer, head tilted so his words flow warmly into your ears. The proximity makes you nervous, makes you fidget the slightest bit until you feel your nailbeds touch his. 

You swallow your heartbeat. 

“I like the music,” you briefly meet his eyes, his gaze as intent as it always is. Your eyes avert to the nearest thing they focus on—one of your other friends tinkering with his turntable at the music booth, “Tokoyami’s sets are always good.” 

Shouto hums. 

“You?”

And you’re sure you said it loud enough for him to hear, but he still scoots closer, fingers slotting themselves in the gaps between yours. Shy touches have been the hallmarks of your friendship lately, an equally thrilling yet familiar connection shared when everything around you becomes too loud. 

It’s never been like this though—his pinky now interlacing itself with yours. 

Your breath hitches. 

“The music is loud,” he says, but it’s ironic; the noise around you has muffled, the music drowned out—you hear nothing except the feeling you’ve grown beneath your ribcage, rattling against your bones. 

He stares at you as the music beats on— one, two, three— one, two, three and as your heart tries to synchronize with the rhythm you realize that he's waiting on a response. 

“Yeah…” You nod too, just in case he’s having trouble hearing.  

The conversation ends that way; and while there's a part of you that wishes you'd said something more to keep things going, the content look on Shouto’s look makes you think that maybe this is fine. With your feelings entwined like this, it feels like the two of you are in your own little world, your own little bubble that just belongs to you and Shouto. 

It's nice. Comfortable. You could get used to this.

“Shouto!”

But then the bubble bursts. 

“You came!” A girl you recognize, but whose name you can't quite recall comes into view, all smiles and dressed to impress. 

“I did,” Shouto answers her and you're weirdly pleased to see his expression passive as usual. 

The girl giggles and the sound is grating on your ears. You don't know why. Too much alcohol maybe? She tilts her head, smile widening as she says, “I'm so glad to see you! Do you want to get a drink?” 

No. You don't say it aloud but before Shouto can even answer her the word is resounding in your head, accompanied by a twisting feeling in your stomach. It's not your call, Shouto is free to do what he wants, but… 

(Shouto glances over at you, feeling your pinky tighten ever so slightly around his, searching for some sort of cue.) 

“Come on,” the girl urges in the absence of a response from Shouto. “We can get a drink for your friend here too!”

“... sure,” Shouto finally says after a moment. He starts to rise from his seat next to you but your pinky tightens. You don't want him to go. He looks at you inquisitively. “What do you want to drink?”

You don't want to drink. The drink you were nursing earlier was enough, more than enough, with the alcohol coursing through you, warm, and at this moment, like liquid courage. 

“...please stay,” you blurt out. 

Shouto looks down at you and you think he looks a little bit shocked. A little concerned. Your only words of explanation manage to be—

“For me? Please?” 

He bends back down, tufts of red and white hair brushing against his forehead as he looks you in the eye. All you smell is the faded notes of his cologne mixed in with detergent and baby powder. “Was your drink too strong?”

Maybe. You wouldn't have said that sober.

Embarrassment flushes you warm, the heat spreading throughout your entirety. 

The girl looks concerned too. “I can go get you water if you want?”

Shouto glances at her, “If you wouldn't mind. I'll stay here just in case.” 

She nods and walks off, presumably to find you some water, leaving you and Shouto on your own once more. A moment passes and you say, sheepish as your words from earlier sink in. “...sorry… I hope you don't mind…”

Shouto stares at you for a moment, considering but he gives you a small smile. His pinky tightening around yours once more. “It's fine. I don't mind.” 

notes: requested by @kissxcore

(sel speaking)

alexis! thank you so much for requesting (and for waiting)! i'm not too sure if this is what you were hoping for, but nonetheless, i hope you like it 🥺 it's a little fluffier than what the prompt looks like on surface level, but i kind of wanted to capture that feeling of loud noise being muffled when you're with someone you like 🥺

where would this fic be without niku's dialogue!! truly!! always adore how she's able to slip in and out of different characters and nail each of their tones and characterisations every time!! she added so much life to this by including dialogue from the others in the gang 🥺

[it-happened-one-fic]

Twisted Weddings: Photoshoot #3 - Peacefully Floating - Azul

Summary: Your third photoshoot was with Azul and, comedically enough, involved sitting in a boat. And, for his part, Azul looked great. You could only hope that you two chatting the entire time didn’t mess up the photoshoot though.

Type: Female reader/ 800 Followers Event/ Series/ sfw/ fluff/ light-flirtation

Twisted Weddings Series Masterlist

Word count: 1384

There was something distinctly ironic about the fact that the wedding shoot featuring Azul was going to involve the two of us in a rowboat that was decorated with white, purple, and blue flowers. 

Which was possibly why I was smiling amusedly up at him from where I lay, largely stretched out in the rowboat but leaning back against him as he frowned suspiciously down at me, “What?”

His singular, perfectly wary word had me snickering lightly even as I shook my head, “I was just thinking about how it was funny that you’re the one who gets to model a suit while sitting in a boat.”

He hummed, his lips pursing slightly before he nodded, looking up towards the shore where the photographer and Crewel stood, “Yes, I noticed that as well…”

He looked back down at me, shifting his hold on me so that while his arms were still wrapped loosely around me, just as Crewel had instructed, he still could relax better, “I shudder to think of how Jade and Floyd will react when they see these pictures.”

I grinned at his words, twisting slightly so that I could better look up at him as my hand rested lightly on one of his arms, “Think they’ll tease you?”

“Oh, Angelfish, I know they’ll tease me,” His eyebrows arched as he spoke, and I laughed softly.

“Well, they can only say so much. You do look nice in your suit after all,” I smiled at him winningly, and for a minute he just stared at me like he could not believe what he was hearing.

“Yes… well, I am quite used to wearing suits,” He glanced away as he spoke, flushing slightly and causing me to chuckle softly at the way he evaded eye contact.

But, in the end, that was just a part of Azul’s charm. Because as crafty as he could be, he was also incredibly awkward in a perfectly charming way.

Unfortunately for him, though, it also made him far too much fun to pick on.

“I’m serious, Azul. You look nice,” I reached up, grasping his hand in mine as I spoke and lacing our fingers together even as my hand rested on top of his and he looked down at me. Frowning like he knew exactly what I was doing.

And he probably did. Azul was no fool and was used to both Floyd and Jade picking on him relentlessly. My teasing probably wasn’t a very big deal to him at all.

I still blinked in surprise as he suddenly grinned, though. His expression speaking perfectly of retaliation to my teasing as he leaned down so that his body was curving over mine as he held my gaze, “As do you, Angelfish. You look like just the bride Crewel wants you to appear as for these pictures. I imagine anyone who looks at these pictures will only see a wonderful image of romance.”

My lips parted slightly in surprise before I felt myself smile, “Is that how you plan on dealing with the tweels? Harass them about how you got picked for the photoshoot and not them?”

He snorted, straightening almost immediately, though his smile didn’t fade and a certain degree of smugness crept into his voice, “Please, they’ve already been whining about I’m the one getting to participate in these photos and not them.”

“So is this more of a ploy for bugging them, or do you have some sort of marketing scheme built around featuring in these images?” I relaxed, letting my head rest comfortably against his arm that supported me easily.

And almost immediately a smile flashed at me that had me smiling back at him, idly wondering what his latest, greatest scheme was.

“Angelfish, any sort of exposure is good when you’re in a business as competitive as the food industry. Anything that helps get my name, as well as that of the Mostro Lounge, out there is good.”

“So Crewel’s wedding campaign is going to list you as ‘Azul Ashengrotto of the Mostro Lounge’?” He nodded at my words, confirming them with a far-too-pleased grin that had me smiling fondly at him before I frowned slightly as my thoughts continued to drift along as we floated peacefully in our rowboat.

“I wonder what I’ll be listed as? Maybe just my name?” I met Azul’s gaze as I pondered aloud, and he hummed slightly.

“Perhaps ‘Y/n of Night Raven College?’ That way any modeling agencies who are interested in you after seeing the images will know how to find you.” His words had my eyebrows arching, and I almost sat up to better look at him before I stopped myself as I recalled that we were still being photographed from the shore.

Though I didn’t know how good these pictures would be with me and Azul chatting away the way we were….

I felt myself smile amusedly, though, “I doubt any modeling agencies are going to be contacting me, Azul. This is probably going to be my only stint in modeling.”

At odds with my amusement, Azul frowned, his brow furrowing slightly as he shook his head, “I don’t see why. As I said earlier, you look nice. You make for a charming bride, and I imagine any prospective employers will notice that. Especially after you’ve done so well in your images with Trey and Ruggie.” 

I blinked at him, half shocked and unsure of whether to just take his words as compliments or something else entirely.

I wouldn’t put it past Azul to compliment someone while he was angling for something. He’d done it numerous times. But his words didn’t strike me as anything like that this time.

I forced myself to focus on the latter part of his statement, though.

“You’ve seen the other pictures?”

His eyes widened slightly at my words before he nodded, looking away with a slight cough before he cleared his throat slightly, “Well, yes. I wanted to know what to expect, so I asked Jade to look into them for me.”

I stared up at him, blinking slightly as his gaze occasionally flickered down towards me, before he’d hurriedly look away. A clear indicator of how, while his explanation made decent sense, there was obviously more to the story.

I didn’t get to press though, since Crewel called from the shore. Telling us to come back and that we were done with the photoshoot.

And Azul made short work of rowing us back and got out of the rowboat with relative ease before pausing to help me as I carefully gripped my skirt. In no way did I want to go pitching myself out of the boat and into the water. Especially not with all this fabric to weigh me down. 

“Both of you did well, though it would have been better if you hadn’t talked quite so much,” Crewel’s voice was filled with slight annoyance, but there was no real bite there.

I bounced my shoulders, smiling awkwardly over at Azul who wove a perfectly magnificent apology before continuing with what I could only describe as his business smile, “When will the pictures go public, Professor?” 

Azul was still smiling winningly over at Crewel, even as the professor eyed the merman before crossing his arms, “I’ll have to get them all first, and then which pictures will be published will have to be chosen, and then they will start circulating.”

Azul nodded as Crewel looked my way, “How do you feel about getting another set of pictures done, pup?”

“Sounds good to me,” I shrugged lightly, earning myself a pleased nod from the instructor even as Azul glanced my way.

“Well, let me walk you back to our changing rooms, Angelfish,” Crewel’s eyebrows arched at Azul as I blinked in quiet surprise before I nodded. Feeling myself smile gratefully at the young man as I accepted his extended arm.

“That sounds nice. Thank you,” And my words were genuine. The idea of navigating the large distance between here and the changing rooms in my long skirt and fairly delicate heels hardly sounded like much fun.

And it wasn’t like getting to continue to talk to Azul was an exactly bad thing anyway.

After all, for his machinations, Azul could be quite a bit of fun.

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[komotionlessqueenmm]

Headcanon/Preference # 37

Gifs NOT mine.

Rating - SFW

Reading time (roughly) - 12 minutes

Year posted - 2025

So yeah I totally killed the reader off in this one... Wanted this one to be angsty. Enjoy.

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

• Obi-wan Kenobi •

• Obi-wan knew he shouldn't have let you join him on this particular mission.

• He knew something was off about this mission, he had sensed it in the Force.

• But he'd let you join regardless, and now you lay at his feet, bleeding out.

• He quickly dispatched of the enemy, and pulled you into his arms.

• "My love stay with me, you're going to be okay."

• He cradled your head in his free hand, trying desperately to assure you that everything will be okay.

• While also trying to fool himself into thinking you'll be able to pull through.

• As your breathing turned shallow, he kissed your forehead, smiling through the pain.

• He needed to be strong for you.

• And as your eyes fluttered closed, and your chest stilled, Obi-wan felt as if a part of himself had died with you.

• Only then did he allow himself to cry, and Obi-wan Kenobi was never the same.

• Becoming a shell of the man he once was, he eventually leaves the Jedi and roams the galaxy, feeling utterly lost without you by his side.

• Anikin Skywalker •

• Anikin thought he could protect you from anything.

• His one truest love, the one person he would have done anything for.

• This is the most dramatic turn of events for Anikin, the moment when he gave into the dark side.

• Cradling your lifeless body in his arms, Anikin screamed and cried.

• "You can't leave me (Y/n), you can't!"

• And with the aggressive flick of his wrist, he killed those that had taken you from him.

• He was merciless, unforgiving, and beyond angry.

• Anikin felt as if he'd died alongside you, and in many ways he did.

• Alone he laid you to rest.

• His once beautiful blue eyes turned to yellow as he watched you disappear from his life.

• Anikin felt as if your blood was on his hands, as if he failed to protect you.

• He also felt as if he failed you, because if you hadn't loved him as deeply as you did, maybe then you wouldn't have given your life for his.

• The day you died, was the very same day Darth Vader was born.

• Qui-Gon Jinn •

• Qui-Gon knew he shouldn't have grown attached to you, he knew it wouldn't end well.

• The rules about attachments, about love, were in place for this very reason.

• Quickly he took care of the man that had fatally wounded you, and held you close.

• Try as he might with the help of the force he attempted to heal your wounds, unable to do so he tried his best to be strong for you.

• He pecked your lips, and brushed back your hair.

• "You're going to be alright darling, just breath. That's it, just keep breathing."

• His hands shook as he placed his free hand over your wound, trying weakly to stop the bleeding.

• Again he tried using the Force to at least try to ease your pain, to make this easier for you.

• "Just relax my darling, we'll see eachother again."

• Qui-Gon promised you with a weak smile, his heart breaking at the sight of your own equally weak smile.

• His heart breaking further as he felt your breathing slow down considerably, the light in your eyes fading with every shallow breath.

• If there was anything Qui-Gon was grateful for, it was getting to hold you in his arms one last time.

• Darth Maul •

• Maul was foolish enough to think you were untouchable, that you were both untouchable.

• And his world crashed around him as you collapsed to the ground.

• Maul thought he knew pain, but all that he's been through, all that he's done. It was nothing compared to losing you.

• "You'll pay for this!"

• Maul growled at the man that was daring enough to hurt you.

• Ruthlessly he slashed at the man, cutting him limb from limb, and keeping him alive until he was satisfied.

• His rage blinded him, and only subsidied when he heard you wheezing in pain.

• "(Y/n) my star."

• Without another thought he dropped his saber, and rushed to your side, cradling you against his chest.

• He was unfazed by your blood seeping into his robes, firmly placing his hand against your wound, desperately trying to at least slow the bleeding.

• "I'll find you again my star, nothing can keep me from you, nothing."

• Maul promised as he rest his forehead against your own, the connection between you both through the Force, assuring him that he could keep that promise.

• He also swore to take down anyone and everyone that was involved in your demise, whoever that man worked for was as good as dead, and anyone else Maul deemed guilty.

• Maul will destroy worlds to avenge you if he must.

• He kept his eyes locked with yours as you slowly slipped away, his hearts thundering with heartache.

• "We will be together again."

• Maul promised before you gave your final breath, a rage filled scream escaping him as you died.

• And all who knew of Darth Maul, learned that after your demise, the Sith could be far crueler, far darker than he had been when you were still alive.

• Maul eventually turns to the traditions of the Zabrak, and finds a way to reunite with you through the magick of his people.

• It isn't enough, and it'll never be enough, because it is simply a ghost of you.

• But until his demise it is all he can manage, and he will accept that while he cannot hold you anymore, he can at least still see you and speak with you.

• Feral Opress •

• Feral is heartbroken beyond belief.

• You were the only truly good thing in his life, you were his and he was yours.

• Savage had witnessed the whole thing unfold, and for the sake of his brother, he struck down the man that dared to harm you.

• Feral wasn't sure what to do, so he acted on instinct, and laid beside you, pulling you into his arms.

• You had once said laying in his embrace was your favorite thing, the thing that brought you the most comfort.

• And he knew that's all he could do for you, comfort you as you slowly succumbed to your wounds.

• "Sh sh my sweet, just relax, I'm here, I've got you."

• He brushed your hair back in a soothing way, ignoring how much it hurt him to feel your blood painting his skin.

• He peppered kisses across your paling face, his hearts breaking with every kiss.

• You giggled in a pitiful way, coughing a moment later, blood oozed from your mouth.

• And Feral, delicately, lovingly wiped it away.

• "It's okay my sweet, look at me."

• His lip quivered a little as your glossy eyes peered into his own.

• "I love you, don't you ever forget that."

• He pecked your lips, tears escaping him when your final breath wheezed out from your lungs.

• Savage Opress •

• Savage instantly saw red, his hearts filled with rage, and regret.

• He ripped the man who hurt you limb from limb with his bare hands. The man's blood only cooling his temper a little.

• Dropping the carcass carelessly to the ground, he rushed back to your side, and as gently as he could he picked you up and cradled you against his chest.

• With you in his arms, Savage walked carefully across the tundra of the desolate planet you were on, unable, unwilling to just leave you on this wasteland of a planet.

• "Oh little one, my sweet stupid girl. You should have just let me handle him."

• He meant well, he really did. But he was hurt that you would do something so reckless, so selfless.

• You had once promised him forever.

• You giggled weakly, reaching up to caress his handsome face. And Savage melted into your touch.

• His hearts broke, knowing he couldn't save you, not this time.

• His blazing eyes locked onto your pale face, he wanted to commit your face to memory, despite the fact that he already has every part of you committed to memory.

• "I'll see you again little one, through the magick, the Force, I will see you again."

• He promised as he cradled you close, the chill of your skin finally breaking his resolve.

• Savage cried as he held you close, falling to his knees as you struggled to breathe.

• He grew darker that day, much darker. Swearing to fight to the bitter end, until he could be reunited with you once more.

• Kylo Ren •

• The moment you collapsed before his eyes, Kylo felt as if he would die alongside you.

• With a rage filled cry, Kylo cut down the man that hurt you, and threw the rest over a nearby cliff with the Force.

• He fell to his knees beside you, watching helplessly as your blood stained the snow around you.

• "Starlight what have you done?"

• He breathed out as he pulled you into his arms, tears of heartache and rage streaming down his face, his helmet long since abandoned.

• "I couldn't- couldn't let you get hurt."

• You had wheezed out, desperately clutching the deep gash at your side. Kylo's hand rest over yours, desperately hoping to stop the bleeding.

• "I can't live without you."

• Kylo whispered in a broken voice, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

• He squeezed you tighter, as you grew colder and colder in his arms.

• "Don't leave me, please, I can't go on without you."

• Kylo shook in his sorrow and rage, as your breathing became shallow.

• Despite the fact that you were literally dying, you still tried to comfort him, brushing his hair back weakly, your blood staining his pale skin.

• This only served to break his heart further, how can he possibly go on without you?

• Kylo is the most likely to rage an all out war, in hopes of getting himself killed so he could be reunited with you.

• But that's not to say he won't fight to the bitter end.

• Armitage Hux •

• It took everything in Armitage to stay standing, to not collapse and cradle you in his arms.

• If he had done so, he knew your sacrifice would have been in vain.

• But the moment the man is killed by his troopers, he's falling to his knees and pulling you into his arms.

• "GET A MEDICAL DROID NOW!"

• He barks at his men, who rush to follow out his order.

• But it's too late, your once bright eyes are dull and lifeless, having died on impact.

• That doesn't stop Armitage from deluding himself into thinking you'll be okay.

• He's crying, and begging you to wake up, but you don't respond to any of his attempts to stir you.

• "Please angel, wake up, come on."

• He's shaking you, kissing you, and eventually in his desperation he's beating on your chest in an attempt to get your heart pumping again.

• By the time a medical droid comes, he refuses to let you go. His troopers eventually have to tear him away from your body.

• He's kicking and screaming, red in the face as he fights them. But it's no good, they are to strong.

• Armitage has to control himself during your funeral, every instinct in him screaming to not let you go, to fight to bring you back.

• He is much harsher after this, starting arguments more and more with Kylo, and taking every ounce of pain when Kylo throws him across the room with the Force, as if he deserves to be punished.

• He's even trying to goad Kylo into killing him, but the man has a little more restraint than the General had thought.

• Armitage is the most likely to give into his dark depressive thoughts, and take his own life.

• His final thoughts are of you and you alone.

• General Grievous •

• You were his most prized "possession" so to speak, nothing in all of the galaxy meant as much to Grievous as you did.

• "My treasure, no you can't do this, you can't leave me I forbid it!"

• He's killed the man before you even hit the ground, where you lay for mere moments before he's cradling you in his arms.

• He's gentle with you, as he quite literally sprints you to the nearest medical bay.

• "Get out all of you!"

• He barks at the droids, not trusting them to fix what cannot be undone. Certain that he'll be able to save you.

• He's frantic in his attempts to patch you up, almost unaware of the way you gently touch his arm.

• Grievous froze in an instant when you weakly called out his name, his attention now solely on your face, cupping your hand in two of his.

• "What do you need treasure?"

• He asked in a soft voice, ignoring how his voice shook with emotion.

• You simply smiled at him, as if taking in the sight of him was all you cared about in that moment.

• "I-I lo-ve-"

• You tried croaking out, only for your breath to be stolen as you slipped away, dying before his very eyes, trying to declare your love one last time.

• The very ground shook with his scream of despair and heart retching agony.

• From that moment on he took out every ounce of pain and anger at losing you on anyone he deemed a threat.

• Sometimes even on innocent people, who would unknowingly remind him of you.

• He fought dirty and ruthlessly, uncaring if he would get himself killed, or if he would even succeed.

• Grievous also travelled far and wide across the galaxy in an attempt to find some way to bring you back to life.

• He cared not for whatever it might cost, or what he might have to do, who he would have to kill.

• If there is a way he can bring you back, he'll find a way, not matter how long it takes.

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

[cokou]

First of all: I absolutely adore your writing style. Can i request something for my favorite penguin boy? He needs way more love. Something like your reaction, seeing him without his hat for the first time or some enemy to lover trope. I guess we all know that he is just a sweet and caring guy but i cant help but think how he would react in this case. Like being attractive to reader but at the same time disliking reader (maybe due some sort of misunderstanding?)

I hope this makes sense. Have a sweet day and I really hope you would feel comfortable writing for him. <3

Troublesome 面倒な

Penguin × F!Reader ペンギン×エフ！読者

event. 100 followers event! Requests all open till 17th of July 2024. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ sum. Accidentally revealing his face in front of you stirred up some misunderstanding. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tw. SFW! No warnings tbh. ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ a/n. THANKYOUSOMUCH. Yes, yes, YES! I will definitely write this rn, I love this rq my fave one so far!! AND I KINDA PUT THIS UP MY EVENT ONG LOL <3 SORRY IF THIS WASN'T WHAT YOU EXPECTED D:// Do not translate or transfer my works, this is my only account. Will not be crossposted anywhere. // Masterlist♡

Another day inside the Polar Tang was definitely nothing different nor anything special from the other days spent with the Heart Pirates. The sounds of small bickering and some loud laughter could be heard once again from the room besides the corridor. The Polar Tang was docked on an Island, and now it was ready to venture into the seas again. The days went by so fast.

As you make your way into some random submarine window, you felt the slow motion of the submarine slowly backing up, making you lose your balance and almost falling into the floor. Although before you fell, someone had caught you just about time before you had hit the floor, giving you time to try and grab into the wall to stabilize yourself.

"Caught you! You really should prepare yourself ya'know! You've experienced this lotsa' timesss." Penguin teased you as he slowly placed you down onto the ground after catching you. "You owe me one." He sticks his tongue out.

"What the hell?! I didn't even need your help!" You rise back up immediately and almost losing balance again from the sudden motion of moving, you grabbed the wall pipe for dear life. You finally managed and dusting off your butt from the fall. "Look i don't owe you anything! I didn't even wanna get caught by you." You cross your arms and look at another direction.

Penguin snorts at your stubbornness and rolls his eyes at your comment. (Not that you saw him roll his eyes.)

"A simple thank you would've been enough." He didn't bother letting you say anything and immediately passed by you, scoffing. You mock him behind his back, copying his facial expression as his footsteps fade into the distance.

The submarine submerged into the ocean waters by now, hearing nothing but vibrations of the underwater tides and bubbles popping. You peek into the small rpunded windows that allowed you to see marine life animals once again. After dozing off for half an hour by the sub's window, you had realized that you still had duties to fulfill.

Sighing and dragging yourself onto the engine room, you hastily open up the door that it hit the wall connecting to it You enter the room stomping on the ground heavily. You suddenly shrieked as you see someone wearing a boiler suit but having no memory of them being on the submarine.

"H— Intrude—!" The man rushes his way close to you and covering your mouth way before you alarm everyone. You smell the faint scent of his cologne, being similar to the ones you had smelt from Penguin. You resist him and attacking his hands that were over your mouth. Biting his palm, making him jump and pulling your hair.

"H-Hey! It's me, Penguin!" Having him loosen his hands over your mouth, you stop resisting his movements and became calmer. The tone of his voice and a sound of what annoyed you was the indeed similar to Penguin, with no doubts you push him far enough to be able to give you two a comfortable space. Your eyebrows furrow in irritation.

"Peng?! Wh.. Where's your hat?!" You shrieked at him once again, your tone so loud it could be heard by the corridors. You take a moment to look at his face up and down and up, admiring his face that you've never seen before. You caught his eyes staring back at you with his mouth carving a look of nervousness and a frown.

"Ah...well, i kinda..spilt something on it, it's in the laundry room." He clarified your questions, his tone having a pint of nervousness on them. Fidgeting quietly with his fingers and giving you a slight smile.

"Your fault— but i never thought that I'd see your face this clear like before! I've only seen your mouth all the time."

" Could it be that....You find me handsome?! Awh you're so kind (Name)!" He laughs at his claim for you, making you look stupid and a blushing mess infront of him, making you much much more irritated than before. You felt veins pop on your forehead as you launch a kick on his knees as he drops into the floor laughing.

"No way!" You pinch the bridge of your nose as Penguin stopped laughing and stood up. Brushing his boiler suit dusts away, his playful and happy tone disappearing, being replaced with a much more serious one.

"Whateverrr....you suck (Name).." he claims. Crossing his arms as he felt disappointed with your answer, lowering his head and shooking them in distress.

"...Okay just a tiny bit handsome!" You grit your teeth at the guiltiness that you received with his unusual tone, changing your opinions to a much better one. You cross your arms just like him and stared at each other with furrowed eyebrows and a serious gaze. His eyes squinting, your teeth gritting hardly that you swore they were gonna break.

"Hah, thanks anyway..i never thought you'd actually give in." He lets his arms go and resting them besides his torso again, gaining a smile that always painted his facce on a usual day in Polar Tang. His gaze now softens and had a much more presenting look.

"Fuck off!...." Silence.

"Okay fine, I'm being quite serious!" You sigh at the honesty that you had revealed. Giving him the slightest smile you could ever give.

"You aren't that bad sometimes."

"I've never been bad! You just don't understand me is all!" Trying to clarify your defense, Penguin just laughs at your take for an excuse, causing you to punch him in the face a bit too hard. He drops to the floor hardly, making a loud tud.

Attracting the attention of the captain who passed by the corridors in hopes of room inspections. Instead he was met with you on your knees and saying sorry repeatedly to Penguin as he grabbed his face and curl into the floor in agony, having no work in progress. Law decides to never pair you two up ever again in duties. Making you gasp as you try to calm Penguin down by holding of his shoulders as he kick his feet into the air, covering his face with his hands.

Even the captain was shocked with finding Penguin without his usual hat. Making him wonder what rhe hell was happening in the Engine Room. After that incident, you ahd soften your side with Penguin as you two were never paired ever again for submarine duties. Law said it was for the best for you two. After all you two didn't have a progress that was started with.

©Cokou 2024, all works belong to me.

[scaredpigeons]

Sunrise, Crystallize I: to pray to a fallen deity.

Masterlist // Next Chapter

Zhongli x Gn!reader

SFW (there will be nsfw chapters but I will keep them separate so everyone may enjoy.)

Word count: 6.2k

You find yourself seeking solace in the prayers you speak to the god of your new home, despite the fact that he’s passed away. Despite the fact that no one answers, your loneliness seems to be lessened by the warmth of the sunrise. You gain a few new companions, and push through your awkward and nervous disposition to embark on a challenge that you may or may not have little hope of succeeding in.

CW: reader has anxiety, real deep lack of self confidence. Very socially awkward. Reader is a florist, running a greenhouse in the harbour. (Author has absolutely zero florist experience or knowledge, so many apologies.)

Authors note: this is the first chapter of many to come, as Zhongli was my first love in genshin impact. This is kind of self indulgent, because while I really enjoy badass, beautiful, desirable reader inserts who exemplify everything I want to be, part of me really fantasizes about what it might be like to have such a desirable character love me not despite of, but because of my self-perceived flaws. I also think that Zhongli is a wonderful character to explore this dynamic with, as he’s incredibly patient and thoughtful, and having lived for 6000+ years— I can really see him finding someone who is socially his opposite very charming. Anyways, please enjoy this first chapter!

———————

Watching the sun rise on Yujing Terrace had become your most beloved pastime since the death of Rex Lapis. You’d never really ventured up the steps further than Bubu pharmacy, but after everything that happened, you decided to go and pay your respects in a more private setting. 

You hadn’t attended the rite of parting. It felt too strange, seeing as you weren’t from Liyue, but you’d lived in the harbor long enough to feel a little twinge of guilt afterwards. 

The attack on the harbor had halted your plans, you really hadn’t wanted to venture outside when there was an ancient sea god wreaking havoc in the waters just beyond your home. But once everything was settled, and the novelty of Rex lapis’ passing finally became outshone by recent events, you decided it was time. 

You’d spent all evening working in your greenhouse, realizing the night had escaped you only when your eyes barely skimmed across a clock on your way to grab fresh potting soil from your storage room. You’d figured beating the morning rush to the terrace was better for your sanity, and washed your hands before heading out. 

The sun had not begun to rise, everything washed in fading starlight as you made your way up the stone stairs. You breathed a sigh of relief when you saw that only the Milileth were occupying the terrace, a few standing guard here and there and a few making their rounds. 

One soldier looked at you a bit warily, most likely wondering why you were here so early. But he only nodded politely when you sheepishly showed him your box of incense. 

When you made it to the topmost part of the terrace, you lit a singular stick and placed it in the holder. You’d seen people immediately murmuring their prayers after lighting their incense, but you weren’t really sure what to say, so you walked around a bit before standing at the railing facing east over the harbor. 

The water looked so peaceful. The sky had started brightening, the first glimmers of the rising sun peeking up from the horizon, casting early shadows along the boats and buildings. 

You took a deep breath, pushing your exhale further than normal. Your chest felt strange, You’d never really prayed to anyone before. 

“Um…” you fiddled with your hands on the stone railing, watching the sun rise ever so slowly. “I’m sorry I didn’t attend your rite of parting. Crowds are really not my thing.” 

You felt too strange to say his name out loud, hoping that wherever the wind took your words would eventually lead to wherever he was resting. Where did gods go when they die? 

“I’ve not lived in the harbor long, but I can see why you loved it. Though I have been here long enough to understand the love you must have had for your people, and the love they gave to you in return. Despite that, I feel as though we’re all going to be just fine in your absence.” 

You cringed a little, wondering if your words came across too crass or irreverent. 

“Ah, well, what I mean to say is you shouldn’t worry.” you chewed on your lip, watching more shadows form along the harbor as the sun grew and grew over the sea, bathing the sky in oranges and pinks.

“Oh, what else do people say when they do this…” you mumbled. “People usually ask for blessings or good fortune, don’t they? I’ve never really understood that. I won’t ask for anything… or is that rude too?” You could never remember the protocol for things like this. 

“Maybe I’ll just ask for happiness. If you can send some sense of fulfillment my way, that would be nice. But don’t put yourself out or anything.” 

You scoffed at yourself, rolling your eyes as you gazed out at the sea. “Or maybe I should just give my blessing to you. Does anyone do that? Ask for blessings and good fortune for you?” 

You shook your head, leaning on the railing and smiling at yourself a bit. It felt like you were talking to yourself, but it wasn’t nearly as embarrassing as you thought. 

“Well then, I ask that you rest in peace. You deserve it after the multiple millennia you endured. I can't imagine having to work for that long, sounds exhausting.” You yawned, stretching out your limbs. 

It was strange, you felt tired— obviously. Being up all night was not exactly ideal, but standing there, watching the beautiful sun rise over your city, you couldn’t help but feel a warm wash of pure… peace. You felt good. You didn’t feel so alone. 

You looked around a bit, still seeing that no one was near you, before looking up half heartedly at the sky. 

“Is that you? Is that why people do this sort of thing?” You smiled as the sun finally broke its way from the water, painting the sky in all its glorious colors. 

Hmm. Perhaps I should design a new sunrise themed bouquet. 

You rubbed the tiredness from your eyes as you made your way back to the stairs, but as you walked through the first archway, your eyes caught sight of the most beautiful man you’d ever seen. 

He was standing, holding a cup of tea while he chatted with an elderly woman at her table. The warm, early sunlight bathed him in its amber hues, making the colors of his clothing gleam, and exposing the rich warm tones of his hair. 

He was exceptionally tall, that much you could tell, even from so far away. He held himself with such grace and poise that you couldn’t help but stare. He looked like royalty. He looked like he belonged on a throne, not walking amongst the common people. 

His smile was small but contagious— you’d pressed a hand over your mouth to hide the fact that you were grinning as he did down at the little old lady in front of him. 

The woman chuckled a bit, before turning to the small flower bed behind her, before picking one of the flowers that was growing there. 

A glaze lily? They were extremely rare, you knew that for certain. They hardly grew in the wild, which is why you hadn’t bothered to grow them for your shop yet, as you harvested the majority of your seeds by yourself. 

He took the delicate flower in his gloved hand, bringing it to his nose and taking what looked like a deep breath. Your heart lurched as his face became almost solemn, but he pushed a smile through and nodded to the woman, saying something you couldn’t hear. 

You couldn’t help but watch as he finished his tea, his striking eyes scanning around the terrace. It was a moment too late when you realized his eyes were eventually going to fall on you. You— who was watching him like some sort of lunatic. 

His eyes met yours for the briefest of moments, and even from a distance they seemed to burn in the early morning sunshine. You instantly flushed, an embarrassing noise fluttering past your lips as you turned around and hid behind the archway, hoping that it looked like you were just heading back towards the overlook. 

You took several deep breaths before you dared peek around the corner again, sighing in relief as you watched the beautiful man make his way down the steps. 

That was the single most embarrassing thing I’ve ever done. You thought, before shaking your head as memories of far more embarrassing events flooded your brain. Actually, never mind. That was pretty far down on the list. 

You almost thought that perhaps you never wanted to see that man again, for fear of embarrassing yourself once more— but that thought was quickly swept away. It would be a shame never to see him again. He was far too pretty. 

———————

it was about a month into your new habit when the elderly woman called out to you. 

You were simply making your way back towards the stairs, having only ever greeted her with a polite nod or a rushed “good morning!” Here and there, so you were surprised when she called you over and invited you for tea. 

You introduced yourself, and she smiled, pouring you a cup. 

“Ah, you’re the young one running that new flower shop, yes?” 

You nodded. “Yes ma’am. ‘New beginnings: flowers and things.’ I sell little trinkets and gifts here and there when I collect them on my travels. But mostly it's just my flowers.”

”oh, you little darling. No need to be so formal. You can call me granny if you like— or Ping. Either or.”   

Normally you wouldn’t be so formal with someone you’d just met, especially an elder, but there was something about Ping that made you feel so comfortable. 

“Alright, Granny.” You smiled. 

“Much better. “ she said, taking her seat. “Now why don’t you tell me all about your shop. I was very surprised when I heard that someone had built a little greenhouse in the city.” 

And so began your new routine of waking up early to watch the sunrise— talking to yourself under the guise of “praying to Rex Lapis”, and having your morning tea while chatting with Madame Ping. 

Ping turned out to be quite the gossip, and you got most of your updates on the comings and goings of the people through her. You learned about her disciples, though you weren’t quite sure what she was a master of. She seemed very wise, having many a tale to tell and advice on things that plagued you. 

One morning you brought her a speciality bouquet of Cecelia’s, one of your more popular flowers, and she gushed about how thoughtful you were. 

“I hope you don’t mind, I stole one from the bouquet earlier and left it on the overlook as an offering with my incense.” You said, sipping your tea. 

“Nonsense, they’re your flowers to begin with, dear. I never would have even known if you hadn’t said something.” She pulls a vase from beneath her table, and pours some water from her nearby jug inside. Ping places the flowers in the vase, fluffing up the greenery to look nice and setting it on the other end of her table. 

“There, just beautiful. Thank you my dear.” She says, sitting back down.

”It's really no trouble. They’re some of my last Cecelias, my recent batch of seedlings went bad. I'll have to make a trip to Mondstadt to collect more seeds soon.” You fiddled with the sleeve of your shirt. 

“If you need someone to watch over the shop for you while you’re gone, I’m well acquainted with a traveler who is just perfect for odd jobs like that when they have the time.” 

“Oh,” you said, looking out at the colors fading from the sky. “That might be nice, I’ve been putting off going out because I’m not too sure who I can trust to watch the greenhouse.” 

You were trying hard to hide your wavering tone, but you knew immediately Madam Ping had caught on. 

“Is there something else on your mind, dear?” She said, “You know you can talk to me about anything that troubles you.” 

You paused, looking around a bit before you took a deep breath. “It’s just…”

Chewing your lip, you sighed at her kindness. You knew better than to be anxious around Ping, but your embarrassment over what you had been doing the last month was eating at you. 

“Is it strange that I've been… praying to Rex Lapis every morning, even though he’s no longer with us?” 

“Ah,” Ping hummed, her eyes glittering with mirth. “I had been wondering what you do over there before the sun rises. When you said you left a flower as an offering, I thought perhaps you prayed to a lost loved one, but Rex Lapis?” 

“I know— it's odd isn’t it? I don’t even know if gods still hear prayers when they pass but—“ 

“Nonsense.” She interrupted your downward spiral, her tone light to soothe you. “There are plenty of people who still pray to our fallen archon. And I can guarantee you that wherever he is resting— those prayers still make it through to him, and crystal clear at that. He may not be able to descend from the heavens as a magnificent dragon to grant the wishes of his followers anymore, but he will always bear witness to our prayers, of that you can be certain.” 

“Oh,” you breathed. You weren’t sure if you believed her, but you didn’t want to seem rude. “Do you think it bothers him? To hear so many people while he is trying to rest?” 

“I’m sure the requests for wealth and glory get rather tedious very quickly.” Madame Ping laughs. “But what do you pray to him for?” 

You flush, running your finger along your teacup. “I don’t really ask him for anything. I just sort of… tell him about things?” You shrug, feeling rather sheepish. 

Ping simply nods, encouraging you to continue. 

“I wasn’t really ever certain he could even be listening. It just feels nice to get things off my chest, you know?” You took another sip of tea. “I feel sort of bad, I mainly just vent to him— it’s kind of like chatting with you, granny. Only I say things I might not be comfortable sharing with others.”

Ping hums, staring out over the harbor thoughtfully. 

“I’m sure your kind of prayers are the most interesting to him. Perhaps even his favorite.” She says after a few moments. 

“Really?” You scrunched up your nose a bit. “I find that sort of hard to believe.” 

Ping smiled, and her eyes seemed to glitter with something unknown. She always seemed to be brimming with unobtainable knowledge, it kept you clinging to her every word in hopes of soaking it up. 

“It was once said that after so many years of being a god— watching over his people and nation with the weight of thousands of years of history and bloodshed upon his shoulders — that Rex Lapis would don a disguise and wander among his people, to gain a taste of what it was like to be human.” She gathered your empty teacup, placed it on the tray with the rest of the tea set and put it aside. “I think perhaps your prayers would remind him of simpler times, of what it is like to be human.”

You let her words ruminate for a while, watching as the harbor started to wake up— typically your sign to tuck tail and run home. 

Finally, you spoke. 

“Do you think he enjoyed my flower offering?” You asked. 

Ping smiled wide, eyeing her bouquet of Cecelias. 

“I think it's a lovely gesture, but he was particularly fond of the glaze lily. Perhaps those— as opposed to the anemo archons favored flower would be more fitting.”

You cringed. You hadn’t even registered that Cecelia’s were known as Barbatos’ favorite flower. After giving yourself a mental scolding, and a reminder to brush up on your international flora guidebook, you hesitantly spoke up once more. 

“I’d love to, but I harvest my own seeds, Granny. I wouldn’t even know where to look for wild glaze lilies. Aren’t they extremely rare?” 

She pulled a little sack from beneath her table — she always seemed to have whatever she needed right on hand, how curious. — and gently placed it in your hands. 

“These are quite old, but I have a feeling if anyone will be able to get them to sprout, it will be you, dear.” 

————————————

You weren’t very hopeful. 

Seeds, when preserved under the perfect conditions, can last up to ten years. But extremely rare and delicate flower seeds tucked in a sack under Madam Pings table? 

You started small; putting six seeds into six little nursery pots, and diligently reading up on the proper humidity, soil, nutrients and water required for glaze lilies. Within the week, small little green shoots were poking through the soil, and you nearly jumped for joy. 

The revelry was short lived when the following week you entered the nursery to find six shriveled up, sad, and very dead plants. You cussed under your breath as you stomped around your greenhouse, reading through your glaze lily guide and wondering what went wrong. 

You had plenty of seeds, plenty of room for trial and error. 

You just did not expect the trial and error to last several months. 

It was the morning after you found your most recent batch absolutely ruined. The humidity or the hydration levels were off, they had to be. What other reason would they have turned to mush for? You’d abandoned the guidebook long ago, it was a lying liar who killed your plants before they even budded. 

“It’s just so frustrating, you know?” You said, leaning against the railing of the overlook. “I feel like if I can't do this, then my entire life as a florist has been for nothing.” 

There was no response, but you sort of enjoyed that. You still weren’t sure if you entirely believed Madam Ping when she said that the archon could still hear you, but you’d never stopped your ranting and rambling to him either way. 

“I know, I know. I’m being dramatic.” You flicked a pebble off the railing, watching as it tumbled down into the trees below. “This started out as me just wanting to give you a proper offering, one that you’d like. But now it feels like something I’m meant to do. If I can find a way to make Glaze Lilies more prosperous in Liyue again, I feel as though that would be a much better gift in your honor—  as opposed to just… sitting one on the terrace to get stolen or blown away in the wind.” 

Still no answer, but once again you were enveloped by that warm and lustrous feeling of peace as the sun rose over the water. Perhaps you were becoming addicted to this feeling. You certainly would not feel as ready to get through another day without it. 

You gave a deep sigh, thinking long and hard before you decided it was time to ask for help. 

“Granny?” You said as you made your way to her table. “Do you know anyone who has information on how Glaze Lilies were cultivated in the past?”

——————————

You were absolutely filthy. 

Your knees were coated in dirt, wet soil clinging to your arms where your gloves didn’t cover. You were nearly certain your hair was a complete disaster. 

None of that mattered. Your other plants were thriving, your shop was freshly stocked with premade bouquets and trimmed flowers for custom bouquets. You just unloaded your shipment of silk ribbons and wrapping paper, and were now nearly elbow deep in buckets of potting soil for your Mourning flowers. 

They required a specific blend of nutrients and earth in comparison to your other flowers, and with your newest batch almost ready to trim, you needed to get a move on with the new growth before they all sold out. 

You had just finished the mixing when the bell on the front door of your shop jingled. 

“Just a moment, I’ll be right with you!” You yelled out. 

The greenhouse was built connected to the shop which housed your little apartment on the second floor. 

Everything was relatively close, so you often worked in the greenhouse during the slow hours. And that damned bell was so loud, though you supposed it had to be, otherwise you could run the risk of people sneaking in and taking what they’d like. Now, you didn’t think that was likely to happen, but it never hurt to be cautious. 

You tossed your gloves onto the nearby counter and washed your hands with the bulle fruit scented soap by the sink. 

You took off your dirty apron to exchange it for the clean shop apron. It helps to look somewhat put together when greeting customers. 

You wiped your damp hands along the sides of the apron as you finished tying the knot, rounding the corner into the shop. 

“How can I help you today?” You said, making your way to the front counter and pausing to make sure your bags were stocked in case they were purchasing something. 

“I was told by a friend that you were in need of some information on historic flora cultivation?” The mans voice was deep, with a delicious rasp about it that had you wondering exactly what kind of man had a voice so alluring. 

You looked up finally, trying to peek through the shelving as he walked along, only to catch glimpses of rich, warm browns. Curse you for stocking your flower bins so damn full. 

You caught sight of warm brown hair, the morning sun gleaming in the windows to catch along the amber hues scattered throughout. 

Your heart lurched as he turned the corner, watching as his eyes scanned the walls lining your shop— decorated with plants and trinkets, little baubles glimmering in the sunlight. 

The face of quiet admiration he gave as he looked at the flowers might’ve buckled your knees if not for the realization that this was the man you had seen Madam Ping speaking to— that day. 

This was that man. The man who may or may not have haunted your dreams for weeks after you saw him. You had wanted to ask Ping who he was, but you were so incredibly embarrassed about the whole situation. Now here he was, standing in your shop as you wondered if this was insanely good luck, or insanely bad luck. 

“Ah, yes. Gran— I mean, Madame Ping said you might be around today.” You introduced yourself, welcoming him to your store as you tried to keep your voice level. 

“It’s a pleasure,” the man said, giving a slight bow. “My name is Zhongli, I currently work at wangsheng funeral parlor as a consultant, but in my spare time I am somewhat of a historian, among other things.”

”It's lovely to meet you, Zhongli.” You wrung your hands together, unsure whether you should look him in the eye or not. They were so startling, so liquid gold it was difficult to hold their gaze. 

He simply smiled softly. “I am at your service. Would you perhaps be willing to show me what you’ve been working on?” 

As his gaze traveled across you, awaiting your response, but you suddenly became very aware of your current appearance. Surely any minuscule chance you had with this man flew out the window the moment he saw your disastrous hair and dirt scuffed knees. 

Not that you thought you really had a chance with him to begin with, but it doesn’t hurt to dream big, right? 

“Ah, yes. Of course.” You said, gesturing towards the back entrance to the greenhouse. “Right this way.” 

He followed closely as you made your way back. His eyes roamed the expanse of your greenhouse in what looked like appreciation, and he nodded encouragingly at you when you paused to watch his reaction. 

“This is quite impressive.” 

Feeling your face heat up, you turned to remove your shop apron and threw your dirty one back around your waist with unsteady hands. 

“It’s nothing really, I just figured that I should turn my hobby into a source of income, and well…” you hoped he didn’t notice your slight cringe as you donned your gloves once again. “I have a lot of free time on my hands.” 

“Such dedication is nothing to shrug off so casually.” He walked around, his eyes catching the latest batch of little failures and he stood in front of them, leaning in close as if to inspect their misery in finer detail. 

“These are the lilies?��� He said, eyeing the drooping sprouts. 

“Yes.” You sighed, coming to stand beside him. You were anxious, sure. But your greenhouse was your safe space. You ruled this kingdom, he was just a guest here. A well dressed, knowledgeable and extremely attractive guest, but you had to convince yourself that everything was fine. If you remained calm and collected, everything would be fine. 

Fake it ‘til you make it— or however the saying goes. 

“They either shrivel up and dry out, or they take in too much moisture and rot. I had a guidebook, but it was about as helpful as a catalyst in a crystal mine.” 

You nearly gaped at him as he let a little chuckle fall from his lips, but he cut it off with a rough clearing of his throat, continuing to look at the plants. 

“Hm, well. Let us take a look at the book. I can revise any incorrect information, and we can work from there, yes?”

Nodding, you turn to dig the accursed book from its time out in the pile of shame. (A pile of useless guidebooks that carried misinformation, or were just overall genuinely bad. However terrible they may be, you’d spend decent money on them and refuse to get rid of any of your books. Hence the creation of the pile of shame.) 

Handing it to him, you move to start clearing the ruined plants from their nursery pots. You tried not to watch him as he flipped through the book, only allowing yourself little glances from the corner of your eye as you cleaned up. When you were finished, you lined up fresh nursery pots and flicked at a loose thread on the bag of seeds. 

“Surprisingly, there are only a few minor discrepancies in this guide. Overall, it seems to be alright, however there is one glaringly obvious detail that has been completely missed.” Zhongli spoke behind you. 

“Oh?” You turned, leaning against your countertop as you waited for him to elaborate. 

“In order to successfully grow Glaze Lilies, you must sing to them.” 

Your brow scrunched in confusion. “Excuse me?” 

The corners of his lips tilted up, and you flushed at the attitude leaking from your tone in such a casual manner. You’d only just met this man, and he was being extremely professional and kind in helping you with this matter. Where were your manners? 

Zhongli however, seemed unbothered by your casual display, and simply continued on. 

“I’ll make the necessary notations here, to correct the minor discrepancies, but the main focus should be — that after the first sign of sprouting — you need to sing to them at least once daily for them to continue growing properly.”

You crossed your arms and looked at him through a furrowed brow. 

“You’re not just making fun of me, are you? Because if this is some kind of practical joke, I don't find it very amusing.”  

Zhongli smiled warmly, closing the book and leaning quite casually against the opposite countertop, his liquid gold eyes glittering with amusement, but it didn’t seem like the kind that was at your expense. 

“I can assure you, I would never jest about something so important, nor would I play any kind of practical joke at your expense. I am simply sharing in my knowledge, hoping to help you in your desires, however I can.” 

You felt your heart fluttering, and you attempted to steady your breath. “Alright. I’m sorry, I just…” how could you tell him you weren’t used to people being so sincere? How could you explain that you weren’t used to such kindness without seeming pathetic? 

“Please do not worry yourself,” he said, stepping closer. He gestured to the small starting pots behind you. “Shall we get started?” 

—————-

“—And now he’s spent the last two weeks dropping by after the parlor closes every day and just— hangs out in the greenhouse while I work? I mean, his help with starting up the lilies was wonderful, but now it’s just about keeping the right moisture levels and singing to them every night, which I refuse to do while he’s there, because I’m not up for embarrassing myself in front of the literal most gorgeous man alive, thank you.” 

Your voice carried a little louder than usual, but by now the Milileth knew your routine, and hardly even batted an eye if they heard you speaking to yourself. 

The sun hadn’t started to rise yet, you’d gotten to the terrace early, early enough that the lanterns were still lit, illuminating the darkened path up those torturous stairs. 

“And he’s so polite? I don’t know how to act around him, he’s always giving such genuine sounding compliments, asking me questions while I work, helping me with little things. Surely a man like that has better things to do with his time?” You huffed, that creeping sense of self loathing wrapping around your shoulders like an old blanket, scratchy and rough, but oh so familiar. 

“He’s so beautiful, and intellectual. He’s literally a walking historical archive and I could honestly listen to him talk for hours— But in comparison, I’m just… I’m just a little girl who plays around with dirt and flowers. I really don’t understand why he keeps hanging around.” 

You scrunched your nose as the sun started to spill those beautiful colors across the sky. 

“Do you think Madame Ping asked him to keep coming around? I know she thinks I'm lonely, but I don't need her to bribe a grown man into being my friend.” 

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. “No, I can't see her taking it that far. I just… I really don’t see why he would want to be around me.” 

That warm feeling started to envelop you, and you took a deep breath to soak it in. “I know… I have a lot of self worth issues. It’s not like I've asked him why he’s hanging around, I just kind of… let him.  Maybe I can work up the courage to ask him why he’s so interested. He probably only wants to see if I can actually manage to grow those flowers.” 

You rubbed the lingering sleep from your eyes and lingered a bit longer than usual, wondering what Rex Lapis would think about Mr. Zhongli. 

——————————

Around the 3 month mark, when things started looking promising, you developed another new habit. 

Instead of spending a dedicated section of time at night standing awkwardly and singing to your newly budded plants, you decided it would save time and effort to just sing away while you do your evening chores in the greenhouse. 

You wouldn’t go out on a limb and say that your other plants were magically affected by your singing, but like your lilies, everything in the greenhouse seemed just a bit more vibrant as you did so. 

You checked the clock, chewing your lip as you scolded yourself for missing Zhongli’s presence. 

About a week ago, he’d stopped by to say that he was taking a leave of absence to go on a trip with a friend of his. He’d introduced the traveler and their strange floating  companion to you before they headed off. 

“I’ll only be gone for a week, maybe more, but I truly look forward to seeing the progress when I return.” 

You’d sort of settled into the strange routine of greeting him in the evenings, making the odd pot of tea while he spoke about anything under the sun, entertaining you while you worked. It felt strange to not have him here, but you knew you couldn’t get too attached. When the lilies bloomed, he would most certainly lose interest, and you’d have to go back to your regular routine of lonely nights. 

Your heart felt a bit somber as you hauled a few buckets of mulch along, not really focusing on your surroundings, just zoning out while you sang random tunes to help your lilies grow. 

You remember a song you’d heard your grandmother sing a long time ago, a distant memory, but the melody was still so vibrant in your mind. 

“Eyes shining like the sunrise,

 Ever deeper than the night sky,

Nature sweet, like faun and flora,

More valuable than jade or mora, 

Take me me there, safe from harm,

Safe at home, in your arms.

nature's bounty he—“

Your voice caught in your throat as you turned to grab the next bucket only to find Zhongli standing silently in the doorway, eyes nearly glowing in the lantern light. 

You jumped, and you were sure if you had something in your hands, it would’ve flown out of them, most likely spilling all over you— embarrassing you even further. 

“Zhongli?!” You yelped, throwing a hand over your pounding heart. “I didn’t hear you come in! You nearly gave me a heart attack.” 

He chuckled, a warm sound you’d grown so fond of hearing. “I did not intend to startle you. Though I am surprised you did not hear me, considering how you’re always on about how loud that bell is.” 

“Yes, well,” your face grew so extremely warm, you pulled off your gloves and shoved them in your apron pocket, kicking a foot on the flooring of your greenhouse. ”I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here tonight, so I suppose I let myself get too carried away.” 

“I wouldn’t say you were too carried away.” His eyes were sparkling, his smile deeper than you think you’d ever seen it before. 

“Wha— are you teasing me? I thought you said you wouldn’t—“ he cut off your rambling with a simple murmuring of your name, nodding to the countertop behind you. 

Confused, you turned, and in the moonlight streaming in through exposed glass sat six perfect glaze lilies, fully bloomed. 

You walked towards them in awe, feeling Zhongli’s presence not far behind. 

“I…” you stared at them, eyes wide and mouth nearly hanging open. “I can’t believe…” 

You were hopeful, of course you were. But a part of you genuinely expected to come in one day and find them dead, destroyed like the others. You had wanted this so badly, but after months of failure, you had lost your confidence. But there, sat in front of you in their little pots, sat six perfect fully grown glaze lilies. 

“I did it.” You mumbled, turning around to face Zhongli. Your heart felt like it was bursting in your chest. You jumped, barely able to contain your joy as you shrieked. 

“I did it!” You excitedly danced around, pumping your fists in the air and whooping, in total bliss at your accomplishment. 

“You did it.” Zhongli simply said, smiling down at you.  

“We did it!” You yelled, your joy uncontainable. Without thinking, you threw yourself at him, giggling as he caught you effortlessly, spinning you around as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 

He smelled like amber, like the forest and the mountain air, crisp and pure and addicting. You took another deep breath before you realized what exactly you were doing. 

You quickly pushed yourself away, backing up with a squeaking “sorry!” Only in your embarrassment, you completely lost your bearings, immediately tripping backwards on a stack of potting soil sacks and tumbling down. 

You tried to catch yourself on the side counter, but only succeeded in grabbing hold of a stack of books you’d been meaning to relocate, the pile of shame.

Perhaps it was your karma for naming it such, perhaps it was irony, but the pile of shame merely tumbled down along with you, spilling onto your head with a terrible series of audible smacking sounds to accompany your little cries of pain. 

“Oh!” In Zhongli’s defense, he really had tried to catch you, but you supposed when you pushed away, you must have shoved him a bit farther back as well, and he was merely seconds too late from grabbing your arm to steady you. 

You sat in your embarrassment, letting a loose book stay where it landed, covering your face. 

“Are you alright?” Zhongli said, his voice filled with genuine concern. 

“Can you pretend like the last five minutes never happened?” You said, cringing beneath the pages of an extremely outdated copy of Flowers in Food: recipes for your floral tastes. 

“Unfortunately, my dear,” Zhongli began removing the book from your face, peeking down at your reddened cheeks beneath the pages. “I have the pleasure of having an impeccable memory.” 

“I had a feeling you’d say something like that.” You grumbled. 

You began peeling books off yourself, face warm as you wondered how you were going to get out of this one. 

“You did not need to apologize, though.” Zhongli said, crouching down to help you. “I am more than comfortable sharing in your excitement at such an accomplishment.” 

Your heart fluttered, and your face heated for entirely different reasons. Maybe it was okay that you’d hugged him? As much as you want to think he’s always teasing you, he has never once lied about how he’s felt about anything. 

“Oh.” You said, peeling away the last couple books. “Well then, I’m sorry for pushing away so abruptly, and uh… that you had to see all that.” 

He smiled, shaking his head as if he was going to tell you something more, when his eyes seemed to catch something along your torso. 

You looked down, and under the last book you’d pulled off your stomach sat a little glowing orb, about the size of your palm. 

Its warm amber light glowed against the fabric of your shirt, and you looked just as shocked at Zhongli for a moment. 

But his face steadied, and he smiled down at you. “It seems that your perseverance has been recognized in the highest regard.” 

You gapped down at the geo vision sitting on your stomach. 

“I… what?” 

—————————

AN: what did you think? Please let me know in the comments/tags/askbox! Also feel free to send in ideas for some dynamics you’d enjoy seeing between these two, as I have a vague idea of where the story will go, but its not entirely concrete yet!

- from Pidge, with love <3

[kakushino]

CONGRATULATIONS ON 1K!! you’ve earned every last one of those followers! For your special event, could I get Number 7 with Itadori? Where you’re on a ramen date together and it seems like you need to leave but he doesn’t want you to. Sfw and sweet romance (itadori deserves some good in his life)

𝖂𝖊 𝖏𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖌𝖔𝖙 𝖘𝖙𝖆𝖗𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖌𝖍

𝟷𝟶𝟶𝟶 𝔣𝔬𝔩𝔩𝔬𝔴𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔢𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱

AN: Yuuji absolutely deserves the best in life and he WILL get it (manifesting)

The hole in the wall ramen place served fantastic meals, you had to admit. Yuuji had good taste in date locations, you enjoyed yourself immensely at the arcade and now this? He really had your heart in his palm at this point, though you had started dating only recently.

Yuuji really was the perfect boyfriend - he bought you flowers, he opened the doors for you and rubbed your muscles if they were sore, he took you to fun places and cuddled with you if all you wanted to do was nap.

“-and then she said, ‘Oh wouldn't you like to know?’ in the snottiest voice imaginable. I thought the guy would explode with how red his face was,” he grinned and you could only laugh at the retelling of his classmate’s showdown with a tourist. Some people really got what they deserved. 

“Nobara is an icon, I swear…” you remarked. “I wish I were her.”

“What? Noooo,” he whined jokingly. “I love you as you are.” 

You winked at him, “Well, good thing I love you too. Even if you do have pink hair…” 

His hands flew to his hair, trying to hide it. “That’s not my fault…” he grumbled. 

Your phone alarm beeped, making you freeze as you realised the time. Yuuji’s smile faded as you pursed your lips, staring at the phone. You made a point in having a studying schedule when exams drew near, dedicating three nights a week to revisions - and this time, the night unfortunately coincided with a date with Yuuji.

“You have to go?” 

You looked up, an unhappy frown marring your face, and he knew.

“We just got started though,” he whispered, staring at your phone for a moment before dragging his eyes up to meet yours again. The silent plea was adorable, and were this another day, you would have teased him about it, but he had enough stress as it was. 

You bit your lip, thinking if you really had to go. Yuuji’s pout was tugging at your heartstrings, his expression reminding you of a kicked puppy. 

It couldn’t hurt to skip studying for one day… 

You caved in. “Fine, now stop that pout or I’ll-” your face was set aflame by your thoughts. Thankfully Yuuji brightened and gave you his usual sunny grin, you could nearly imagine a tail wagging behind him and sparkles in his eyes. He grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles one by one.

“You won’t regret it! I promise!”

“I never regret going out with you, really,” you assure him, glancing at his bowl. “How about this, I’ll pay for ramen and you treat me to bubble tea?”

[another-lost-mc]

Hi! Do you think you could do what would lead to a pact with Barbatos? Like, the events leading up to it and what caused it to be made?

This has been sitting in my ask box for a while because honestly, I'm a bit torn between what I think is more likely to happen, and what my undying love for Barbatos wants to see happen.

Due to potential story spoilers for S4, I'm putting my thoughts (and a bonus drabble) under a cut.

As of S4, he's starting to recognize his affections for MC are a bit more complex than just regarding them as the human exchange student, someone else he's obligated to be polite to and take care of because Diavolo expects it of him

He's a real slow burn in a story full of very impulsive and needy demons (and angels, and other humans, and maybe a reaper now, too) but I actually love this about him

I honestly don't think MC would ask Barbatos for a pact, nor do I think he would offer one even if they were in some sort of romantic relationship - if this does come to pass, I am really curious because I think it would require exceptional circumstances

He's the Demon Lord's butler, after all - Diavolo is his priority, and I can't see that changing; forging a new pact has the potential to make him vulnerable, or exploitable, and I don't know if he would accept that sort of risk right now

Lowkey though, I like that MC's pacts (so far) are with the demon brothers - I think it makes their relationships more special for it

That being said, I don't think Barbatos would turn MC away if they asked him for help - assuming it's something he can do that doesn't impact his ability to serve Diavolo, and it doesn't put Diavolo or the Devildom in harm's way

Solomon is a bit of a shady wild card, and the fact that he has a pact with Barbatos where MC may not ever have one - well, I think that makes an interesting dynamic too

Don't get me wrong though - I'm a romantic at heart, and there's something about Barbatos agreeing to a pact with MC as a demonstration of his trust and feelings for them that makes me a little weak

Here's a little drabble about it. 💚

BARBATOS x gn!Reader 0.4k Words | SFW | Fluff, Sleeping Together, soft!Barbatos, Slightly Suggestive

Barbatos is a light sleeper.

He's grown used to getting up in the middle of the night if his Young Master needed him, and he would wake early to make sure the castle staff were each assigned their daily tasks. He personally prepared the morning’s meal and tea, ensuring Diavolo had his breakfast tray and daily paper ready the moment he woke up.

Now, Barbatos sleeps lightly for another reason.

You’re turned away from him, one of your shoulders bare where your night shirt has slipped out of place. When you bury deeper into the sheets, the fabric slips even more, and he can see the edge of his pact mark against your skin.

You’re sleeping so peacefully and he knows he shouldn’t disturb you, but he accepts whatever consequences may come later when he brushes over the mark with his finger. Once he touches you, it's difficult to resist the urge to explore more of your warm skin, to examine the evidence of his claim etched into your flesh.

He slides your night shirt out of the way so he can trace the mark with his tongue. He presses his lips to the mark, pulling your skin between his teeth gently before laving over the indents left behind. The indents of his teeth that litter your skin will fade soon enough, but he sighs with satisfaction anyway - his pact mark will remain until the end of your days together.

He can feel you stirring against him, and he has the decency to pretend to look ashamed that he's been caught. He pulls back slightly and meets your sleepy, curious look when look at him over your shoulder. Sleep fades from your gaze when your eyes shine bright, the corners of your lips lifting into a sweet, dreamy smile.

He wonders what you see that makes your breath hitch slightly, that makes your beautiful eyes shimmer with warmth. You've managed to see past all the masks he wears, the walls he builds to keep pesky emotions at bay. You've claimed his heart for your own, and he gave into the inevitable; he surrendered it willingly at your feet, a prize for the victor, your spoils of war.

He smothers the fleeting twinge of disappointment when you roll over and face him properly, nuzzling against his bare chest and throwing an arm over his waist. He curls his fingers over your shoulder - palm over his mark protectively - and keeps you close, basking in your warmth until his other master needs him.

[munsons-hellfire]

Life Eternal | Tamlin

SUMMARY: The last thing you expected was to be mated to the High Lord of Spring. But after the events of losing your husband in the war you didn’t think you could have another chance of happiness.

PAIRINGS: Tamlin x Reader

CONTENT WARNING: Angst, Fluff, SFW.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So this sort of follows Life Eternal by Ghost. Tamlin also gets a happy ending in this. Idk I just felt that this idea best fit Tamlin and that's why I wrote it. I hope you like it!

WORD COUNT: 2.8K

The last thing you ever expected was to lose your husband in the War against Hybern. Everything after that fateful day had changed. You had become a widow and a single mother, a six month old babe to raise on your own. You were lucky enough to have friends in the Night Court. You had met Azriel through your husband.

For a short time, long before Amarantha came into the story you and your husband had been a part of the Spring Court considering your family had been a part of Spring. Your husband was an Illyrian warrior, he had met you by pure luck and the two of you fell in love. He stayed with you in the Spring Court for years until Rhysand had sent Azriel to bring him home.

You had discovered that Rhysand was not only his High Lord but his older brother by three years. He was the second oldest above their little sister whom you later learned had been killed by your High Lord’s father and brothers. After learning the truth you no longer wished to stay in the Spring Court and joined your husband. Soon you were introduced to the Inner Circle and Velaris as well.

You had found a home in the Night Court and even before your husband had died you had proved yourself worthy of a title inside the Night Court. That war changed everything. You had agreed to stay back with your son, while everyone went to fight. Your husband had promised he’d be back, that he would continue to teach your babe to slowly take control of his wings even though he wasn’t old enough yet.

It was clear to you that he wanted to be the best father to his son, that he wanted to make sure he knew his son knew that his wings were present in his back. When you and your husband had first learned that your child would have wings you were terrified. You had heard stories of females dying in childbirth because their child had wings and they hadn’t had the proper hips to birth a winged babe.

While the stories were rare they existed. You were lucky enough to have some trace of Illyrian in you. Madja had been the one to confirm that you would be able to carry the winged babe to term and not have any issues. But it still scared you. And when he was finally born, the fear of seeing him fly us held a strong grip on you. You were lucky that he would have his father and uncles to teach him to fly.

But it changed, everything always changes. You were in the House of Wind playing with your son when they finally returned. A smile was on your lips ready to greet everyone including your husband. However it faded the second everyone looked at you with guilty eyes. Mor was the first to step forward, taking your son from your hands and walking out of the room with him. She didn’t want to be there, she couldn’t see the look on your face when they told you.

“Where’s Orin?” You questioned, your voice cracked. Everyone exchanged a look with each other. Then Rhysand stepped towards you. Tears filled in your eyes as you stared at your brother in law.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N.” Rhys said, his voice breaking. He had lost his brother and telling you was the worst thing he ever had to do.

“Where’s Orin?” You repeated your question, ready to winnow away. You knew what was coming and you weren’t prepared for it. You looked at Feyre.

“Watch over him for a few days, please?” You asked via mind. She only gave a soft nod as Rhys took another step towards you.

“Hybern, he killed him. I couldn’t… I couldn’t do anything to save him. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

Rhys tried to pull you in for a hug but you disappeared. You had winnowed away before he had a chance. You collapsed into the fields you’d known for a long time before you left. The weather was just as you remembered. A scream left your lips, you held your hands to your chest as tears rolled down your face.

The High Lord of Spring felt a presence in his court. It had been so long since he’d felt some sort of life. But the scream he heard was gutted and broken. In his beast form he listened closely for the cries that followed after. He wasn’t sure who was hurt but he needed to make sure whoever it was was okay. His court might have fallen because of his ex lover but with the war over he needed to rebuild.

He shifted back into his fae form staring at you from a distance, afraid to take a step forward. He watched you lift your gaze, eyes finding his though you couldn’t be sure who or what you’d seen. As the male stood there in the trees he felt the golden string come to life, tying his soul to yours. He collapsed to his knees, a soft gasp leaving his lips. He wasn’t sure if you had felt it and he couldn’t bring himself to ask you when he had no idea who you were.

A gasp had escaped your lips too. The last thing you had expected when you knew you had seen the High Lord was that he was your mate. You knew he wasn’t who he had seemed to be when Feyre had started to love him. Everything you knew about him had come from everyone else including your husband. Guilt washed over your face as you came to realize the true effects of the mating bond.

How could you be destined to someone so cruel? How could the Mother decide that the High Lord was your mate and not your husband, not the male you’d loved so much. Instead you were tied down to this male before you. He stepped closer to you, and as much as you’d wanted to run away you were too exhausted from the pain, from all the news you’d just gotten. When he kneeled down in front of you his green eyes were soft.

It was odd to see Tamlin act this way. You’d heard the stories from Rhys and Feyre about the way he’d acted. And as he lifted his hand to cup your cheek, there was something that had shifted in him. Finally words spilled from his mouth as he stared at your face, so many emotions resting on it.

“I don’t expect you to accept the mating bond. I can feel your pain, your hurt. And I’m almost certain you know about the terrible things I’ve done. I will never forgive myself for the pain I have caused others. But please, let me have a chance to show you a better version of myself.” He was so sincere as he talked to you. You didn’t understand why you were getting this version of him. Why he hadn’t done better with Feyre.

“You hurt my sister in-law.” You mumbled softly. Tamlin was shocked by the words, but he had been expecting something worse. Instead you hadn’t pulled yourself away from his hand that still rested on your cheek. His warmth was a welcome surprise.

“I did, and I will never be able to take back the wrong I did to Feyre, but I can learn from my mistakes and hopefully be better than I once was. Maybe you can help me.” There was hope in his green eyes as you stared at your mate.

“I have a son.” You whispered softly. “He’s Orin’s son. Rhys is his Uncle, as are Cassian and Azriel. None of them would be pleased to discover the mating bond between us. I can not accept it, but I’m not rejecting the bond. I believe that everyone deserves a second chance, everyone also deserves to be happy.” You paused, placing your hand on top of Tamlin’s and sending him a soft smile. “If Rhys can have his happy ending with Feyre, then you deserve your happy ending. I am willing to put forth the effort, but I need time to mourn my husband.”

Your words ran through his head. He was shocked that you’d admitted to not wanting to accept the bond but not rejecting it either. It meant that there was a chance he could change, and he’d do it for you, he’d do it for your son too. And if you needed time to mourn the loss of your husband then he’d give it to you.

“Take all the time you need. I’ll be waiting when you’re ready, Y/N.”

After that day Tamlin had a better look on life. You’d stayed at his mansion helping to clean up whatever you could. It helped keep your mind off the loss of your husband and allowed you to mourn the way you needed to. Eventually you had asked Feyre if someone could bring your son to you in the Spring Court. You had mentioned how you weren’t quite ready to leave, but you didn’t want to be away from your son.

Tamlin stood near you, while the two of you waited for Rhys and Feyre to show up. You’d be telling them about the mating bond though you had yet to decide if you were ready to accept it. There was a change in the Spring Court, with it being rebuilt others were returning to help and move back to their home court. Tamlin was thankful for the help you’d done in the weeks that you’d been here. You looked back at the male as Rhys and Feyre appeared. Seconds later Azriel and Cassian dropped down from the sky.

“What’s he doing here, Y/N?” Rhys had asked the second he spotted the High Lord.

You only rolled your eyes at your brother in-law walking over to Feyre and taking your son from her. Tamlin watched as your whole expression changed when you saw your son. He couldn’t stop the smile that had fell to his lips as he watched you talk to your son. You looked up from your son and placed your eyes on Tamlin. For the first time in weeks he had a look of love on his face.

The four seemed to notice as well. You stepped away from them, knowing very well they were watching the exchange between you and Tamlin. However the scent of the mating bond between you and Tamlin was there. Rhys could smell it, they all could. You stopped in front of Tamlin, still holding your eyes to him.

“Tam, this is my son, Atlas.” You said softly holding the babe towards the male.

Tamlin was hesitant to be near the babe. But you handed him off to Tamlin so easily. This was the moment you’d make your decision. Atlas cooed as he stared up at Tamlin. You felt your heart swell with pride and love, Tamlin could feel it down the bond which had caused him to lift his gaze from Atlas and look at you. Finally you turned back to your family.

“I know I disappeared and I’m sorry. But I needed to mourn Orin, I needed to move on without you all pestering me. I know I’ll always be welcome in the Night Court but I can’t go back there. As I’m sure you're aware, Tamlin is my mate.” You paused taking a deep breath. You felt Tamlin move closer to you, his warmth hitting your back. “I know that Orin would want me to move on, he’d want me to be happy. And since I’ve come back here, I have been. Tamlin still has a lot to make up for, and I expect him to earn his forgiveness eventually. I know it’ll take you and Rhys a while to fully accept the idea of Tamlin being my mate, but I’m not rejecting the bond.”

Feyre and Rhys exchanged a glance with each other. Feyre was the first to step forward. “Will you be happy here?” She asked, the concern on her face. You knew why it was there, and you understood it. But so far Tamlin had been true to his word, he’d treated you differently, and while it was still a shock you took it with open arms.

“I will. Tamlin and I still have a lot of rebuilding to do. He still has a lot of trust to earn, but I think this is what I was always meant to do. I think I was always meant to be here, that’s why the Mother made Tamlin my mate.” Rhys opened his mouth. “If he so much as steps out of line you will be the first to know. But I don’t think that’ll happen.”

You had high hopes in your mate, you believed that he could be a better version of himself. Already he had made you feel so loved, he helped you mourn the loss of a male that meant nothing to him. He’d helped you in so many ways you were honestly surprised. But he was taking the steps to be better. And it made you happy.

“Do we still get to see Atlas?” Rhys asked, his violet eyes on his nephew who was still in Tamlin’s arms.

“Of course, I don’t think Tamlin would ban you from his court. Just please send word if you're stopping by.” You looked back at Tamlin who gave a stern nod, though his jaw was clenched.

“Would you mind if I spoke to Tamlin alone, dear Y/N?” Rhys asked violet eyes on you. You turned back to your brother in law and gave him a nod. You walked over to Feyre and Tamlin walked with Atlas and Rhys by his side.

“Is this ok?” You asked, staring at your High Lady. Though she wouldn’t be your High Lady for much longer.

“I don’t regret the things I’ve done to Tamlin, they’ve made up for the harm he caused me. I do worry a little that you might regret your actions but I trust that you know what you’re doing. After all he is your mate. I just wished we’d all known all along that he was supposed to be with you.”

“I don’t.” This caught Feyre by surprise. “I loved Orin with my entire being. And as much as I wished he was my mate I’m glad he wasn’t. I was so hurt that he’d gone off to war, leaving me to take care of our son. Then you all returned and said that he’d died. I was so broken, we’d gotten into an argument before he left and I had said some hateful things to him, of which I regret and will always carry with me.”

“He wasn’t mad at you for feeling the way that you did.”

“I know, but I was.” You paused, turned to look back at your mate. Then your eyes landed on your son who seemed to have a small smile on his lips as he stared up at the male. “I know Tamlin has done terrible things. And I will never look past what he did to you. But I believe he deserves a second chance. And regardless of him being my mate, I’m going to give him a second chance to make himself better to learn from the mistakes he’s made. And he’s starting to see the wrong he did. He’s rebuilding his Court, he’s already stated that I will be his High Lady. And I know that’s something you wanted here, and I’m so sorry you didn’t get it.”

“Don’t be. I wasn’t destined to be the High Lady of Spring. You are. You might possibly be the best thing to happen to Tamlin after me. We showed each other the toxicity in the love we had and with our next partner we broke that. I believe with all my being that everything that happened was always supposed to happen. This was for the best.”

You smiled at Feyre, walked over to her and wrapped her in a warm hug. She hugged you back tightly. Rhys and Tamlin now had their eyes on their mates but neither of seemed to care.

“Thank you.” You whispered. The two of you pulled back from the hug, then you and Feyre walked over to Rhys and Tamlin. The smile on your face grew as you stared at your mate and child. An arm gently rested around Tamlin’s waist, you moved closer to him as Rhys and Feyre said their goodbyes. “Let’s go home.” You whispered softly. Tamlin gave a nod of his hair and placed a kiss on your forehead. The two of you turned around and walked back towards the manor.

[starrylothcat]

Not Alone

Hunter x Reader One-Shot

Warnings: Big spoilers for The Bad Batch S2 finale. Sadness, angst, comfort. SFW

Summary: You comfort Hunter after the events of the season 2 finale.

Word Count: 900ish

I was inspired by @jedipoodoo ‘s post on writing comfort for Hunter after the S2 finale, and @wanderer-six ‘s lovely Wrecker fic. Check it out! Our boys are in desperate need of comfort. 😩

Anyway, enjoy. 😌

The Marauder was deadly silent. You could feel the anguish hanging in the air, it was suffocating as you tried to conceal your sobs. You found a small corner of the ship to tuck away in to, trying to process everything that had happened.

Tech was gone.

And so was Omega.

You couldn’t think straight, the grief ripping through you. Watching Tech plummet in to the clouds ran through your mind over and over. Seeing Omega be taken, while you all watched hopelessly, gripped your heart like an iron vice.

You squeezed your eyes shut as tears spilled out, silent cries wracking your body.

A gentle touch on your shoulder startled you. Hunter was standing over you, his face twisted in guilt. You had been with Clone Force 99 long enough to call them all brothers. Over time, your relationship with Hunter became more than friends, and you loved one another fiercely.

On Pabu, in those blissful days of no worries, you both talked about settling down there together with Omega. You were hopeful for a chance of putting your lives as soldiers to rest, and being with the man you loved. But that dream was now gone.

He held out a hand, offering to help you stand up. Always the strong Sergeant. But he doesn’t have to be.

He shouldn’t be the one coming to comfort you, as you knew him well enough to know what he was thinking. He blames himself.

You took his hand and laced yours with his once you stood up fully. The feeling of his gloved hand caressing yours gave you solace, momentarily. He looked at you, the absolute pain his eyes making your heart shatter. “Hunter…” your voice almost inaudible. He reached toward you with his free hand, wiping a tear off your face. “We’ll find her…” he whispered. You bit the inside of your cheek, trying not to crack under his gentle touch. “Don’t blame yourself...” You mumbled as you laid your head in the crook of his neck, tears threatening to fall again. Hunter put his strong arms around you, pulling you close and resting his cheek on top of your head.

“Let me help you, let us help you.” You said softly.

He gripped you tighter, and you could feel his body shake. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have let them take her. I shouldn’t have taken us to Cid’s. I shouldn’t have let Tech…” His voice broke and he buried his face in to your hair. His usual stoic demeanor was crumbling, and he felt lost.

Useless. A failure.

He had let everyone down. First Crosshair. Now Tech. And Omega…his family was fading away from him one by one and there was nothing he could do about it. His grief over Tech laying so heavy on him, he could barely breath. He had never felt so undone.

He continued his hold on you, afraid if he let go, you’d be taken from him too. Something that he already had nightmares about and couldn’t bear the pain of that passing thought, not now. His senses were suddenly overwhelmed, and his head began to spin. He stumbled forward, before catching himself on you. “Hunter! Sit down, you’re still injured...” You had grabbed his shoulders to catch him, and he leaned in to you.

“I’m still here, Hunter.” You murmured. “We made these decisions as a team. And Tech…he saved us. This isn’t something you need to carry alone. Please, we’ll do this together.” You pleaded, knowing whatever you said, he would still carry the guilt on his own. He knew he didn’t have to, but it was habit. He let out a breath, your soft words bringing him back, grounding him.

Hunter looked you in the eyes, trying to find anything to say. You placed a hand on his cheek, and he leaned in to your touch, feeling more vulnerable than he’d ever had in his life.

You brought your lips to his in a soft, chaste kiss. “I’m here for you. Always.” His mesmerizing brown eyes met yours, and you could see tears forming in the corners. “I know.” He whispered as he brought you back in to another strong embrace, your familiar scent surrounding him. He focused on the sound of your heartbeat, rhythmic and strong. Alive.

He felt your hands on his back, the warmth of your palms radiating through his clothing. He truly didn’t know what he would be without you, especially now, in this moment. You had a way of always knowing what he was thinking. While you were intense and composed on the battlefield, you had a tranquil way about you. Whenever Hunter was stressed by a mission, getting in to his own head about his skills as a leader, you were always there to reassure him. It’s one of the reasons he fell for you.

You melted in to one another, desperately wishing the circumstances were different. He slowly pulled away from you, because if didn’t, he would continue getting lost in you forever. But every second that passed, Omega got further away. You knew it too. Your lives as soldiers weren’t over. Not yet.

He put his hand under your chin, lifting it gently toward his face. “I love you.” He mumbled, pressing a tender kiss on your forehead, before stepping away from you. He moved toward the front of the ship, where Echo and Wrecker were silently sitting, lost in their own dark thoughts.

“I love you, too.” Your heart swelled momentarily, before following him to begin planning your next move, ready to continue the fight.

[the-fluff-piece]

Law's wedding day

Fluffy, fluffy sfw story about Law x fem!reader getting married. In this first part it's the evening before this great event and he thinks about his past.

Tomorrow was the big day, Law would marry the love of his life and everyone he ever cared about was there. It was absolutely overwhelming to him, he couldn't fathom that this was really happening. There had been enough moments in his life when this seemed like a fever dream. First he thought he wouldn't live that long - than he was driven by revenge. But he found someone that completely changed his priorities and turned his life upside down, for the better.

He sat in his room in the polar tang and dreaded the tradition that he had to be apart from her on the night before their wedding. It was the first time in months that he had to endure a night without her and the loneliness didn't really help his anxiety.

His gaze fell on his suit hanging on the wall, ready for the big day. It suddenly seemed to big to fill for him. Too much meaning entwined within. Would he be a good husband? What did he know of love or family?

Like so often when he felt alone and had no one to turn to, he looked up to the night sky. It made him think of all the people that where gone. And in moments like these, it felt like a conduit to the past.

"Hey Cora-San, how are you?", he began talking to the stars above him. He didn't have a picture or a reminder of him, so he just spoke to the same sky he had once shared with his savior. "You wouldn't believe what happened. I asked her to marry me and she said yes! I will be a husband. I will have a family.", he happily announced, imagining Corazon smoking on his bed. "I'm really proud of you Law!", he would say. "I knew you could do it! You're free!", he would probably add proudly.

He would be so proud, Law thought as the image of his dear friend faded and he was alone again. I wish he could be there when I say my vows. I wish he would slip and fall on the dancefloor the whole evening. The thought made him chuckle. But he won't.

Like many he'd cared about - he won't be there. It has been so long, Law could only guess what his parents might be like on his wedding day. Would his father have made a far too long, awkward speech, spiked with typical dad jokes? He hoped so. Would his mother have cried when he kissed his bride? Maybe. And Lami...? He didn't even know who she would have become. But he was sure she would have been unnerving and wild and absolutely wonderful.

As his thoughts where slipping towards all he had lost, there was a knock on the door. "Law?", Bepo's familiar murmur came from beneath the door. "Law, are you awake?"

"Yes, what is it?", Law answered.

"I can't sleep, I am so nervous", the blushing bear confessed as he opened the door. "Can we...I mean can we just...talk?"

"Sure", Law pointed at his bed and his first men sat down with a groan. "Aren't you nervous?", he asked shyly.

"A little", Law answered, raking his hands through his hair. "It is a big day after all."

"It is", Bepo said.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the huge mink staring at his fumbling paws. "I hope I don't mess up my speech", he said softly.

"And even if, it would be funny", Shachi's voice said from the half open door. "Mind if we join you?", Penguin asked while already pressing past his buddy.

Law knows that he won't be able to stop them and points towards the bed. All three of them where sitting there squeezed on his small bed in the small cabin, Law sitting at his desk. They brought some grog, for the nerves and where in the highest of spirits. "MAN LAW I am so HAPPY", Shachi announces to half the ship. "This will be an awesome wedding! I'm gonna eat and drink so much!", Penguin chimes in. It seemed to inspire Bepo, the bear seemed happier and more relaxed. "Oh, I look forward to my suit. Law and me have similar outfits. It will be so great!", his black eyes gleamed with unfiltered joy.

A chuckle escaped Law's throat, his gloomy thoughts gone. "Now you smile Law, but wait until I tell everyone in my speech what a weird kid you were!", Shachi joked. "What?! At my wedding? In front of my bride?", Law shook his fist. "Like the story when you tried to use your powers to fly and hit your head so hard you almost past out?"

Penguin, Shachi and Bepo exploded in laughter - it was so infectious Law couldn't help but smile, too. "If you do that it's toilet cleaning duty for a month!", Law reprimanded him.

"What's going on here, you guys are so loud I can barely sleep!", Hakugan stood in the door frame with his hands on his hips, his white mask gleaming like a ghost in the shadows.

"Yeah, you look so tired, man!", Penguin teases and they laugh some more.

"Jeez boys, can you tune it down?", Ikakkus locks appeared behind Hakugan. "If you're throwing a party at least tell us?", she complained. Law could already see more figures in the hallway as both of them squeezed into the tiny room, too.

"It's getting really crowded in here", Law said, jumping a little in his chair when Jean Barts giant face appeared in the porthole of Law's room.

"Hey, I want to party, too!", his muffled voice could be heard from outside. "There is no party here", Law screamed at the crowded cabin. "Party? We're in!", Law could hear even more of his crew from outside. This was getting out of hand - everyone pushed into his room.

Unnerved, he summoned a room that engulfed the ship and teleported everyone, including himself, on deck, so he could finally breathe again. When everyone thumbed onto the polar tang, there was a short moment of confusion - until Penguin screamed "PARTY ON DECK", followed by a collective "YEAH!", as everyone started bustling around to get tables, food and drink outside to get the party really going. Law stood there, baffled, as he watched his crew.

They where a great bunch, he would be getting married to a great girl. On the horizon, he could see the lights of the straw hat's boat. They were great friends. Fully realising that he was surrounded by his friends - his found family, Law couldn't be happier. For the first time in so many years, he could hardly wait what the future would bring him. With a laugh, he joined his crew.

In the next part, Law's wedding will take place. There will be quite a lot of fun. Will Bepo mess up his speech? What will the straw hat crew do? Who will take the microphone and sing karaoke?

Like this one? Check out my masterlist!

Tags: @julia-shephard

It's not part three but maybe you like this one, too!

[shouldaspunastory]

For @uchidachi and @dadrunkwriting

Anders x Karl Thekla, (SFW, Act I DA2, Canon Divergence, Angst, Hurt/Comfort) 3,189 words

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"Anders," the older man says in a voice that is flat, devoid of any emotion or affectation, but a voice that nevertheless, the apostate and underground healer knows as well as his own. His once and long-time lover before Templars and years tore the two of them apart, putting an entire ocean between them "It really is you," Karl says, a gentle breeze that blows through the mage's Darktown clinic brushing the graying hair from the older man's brow to reveal the reason for his flat affect- a red sunburst sigil burned into his forehead marking him as Tranquil.

"Karl..." the name is a whispered prayer, then a gasp, amber eyes widening in shock and horror as he takes in the other's brand. His heart aches, tears burn his eyes as he takes in the sight of the only person he's ever loved. Tranquil. Karl is tranquil.

"No," Anders whispers shaking his head. "No. No. That can't be. They can't-" he stammers, too many emotions warring within him at once.

"I knew you would find your way here. Not when, but some day," Karl replies. The words, which ought to be spoken in joy, which once would have been full of relief, gratitude and love are hollow, a ghost of what they might have been before the mage was separated from the Fade and any sense of his emotions which the Templars will no doubt have alleged will make him vulnerable to possession. Not that Karl would have given them any reason to believe he might become an abomination. Meredith and the Templars of Kirkwall rarely need a reason or abide by due process these days.

"I..." It's as if everything stops. Anders mind is reeling. He can feel Justice stirring in the corners, responding to Anders righteous indignation and fury, readying himself for a fight. Anders doesn't know which of the things he feels is the strongest. It's a maelstrom, horror, disgust, sadness, anger, rage, the need to scream, to throw something, do something. Anything.

Maker, he wants to reach out to him, pull him close, kiss away the brand on his forehead. It's been so many years now since he's seen him, since he's been able to touch him. But Anders no longer knows whether he can. Could Karl even say no, like this, Anders thinks feeling ill thinking of some of the horrible stories he's overheard Templars sharing about the Tranquil entrusted to their care. If mages have it bad, the Tranquil, often seen as the lowest among them have it even worse. To have known magic only to be ripped away from it, to be all but enslaved to the Templars...

"When," Anders asks softly, terrified of the answer, but needing to know. Would things have been different if he'd only made it here a little sooner?

"They found my letters," Karl replies, his voice still the flat affect that so often unnerves most people about the Tranquil, their sentiment cut off along with their connection to the Fade through the Templar's brutal and painful ritual. "They knew you would never give up. They knew I'd run away with you, given the chance. They couldn't take that risk. They needed to make an example of me, for the other mages of the Circle," Karl replies matter-a-fact, as if he's not describing the terrible chain of events that led to a kind of horrifying lobotomy being forced upon him.

Anders swallows the urge to vomit, to storm the Gallows, a self-destructive storm of anger and lightning.

"But your emotions, your... you, they can't just take your magic, your personality, your memories! It's like you're..." Dead, Anders thinks stopping himself short of saying it.

Taking a deep breath, he clenches his hands into fists, pushing back the thrum of magic gathering within him with his growing frustration and fury.

"I have my memories," Karl interjects. "I remember you. I remember- what we had. That it was important enough for me to risk everything, important enough the Templars thought it was dangerous. I can no longer feel the Fade or my magic anymore. I cannot feel anything, so I cannot be tempted," Karl summarizes. "This pains you," the Tranquil observes softly.

"Of course it pains me," Anders snaps, his voice breaking. "For the Maker's sake, look at yourself, listen to yourself, they took everything! They've made you a puppet, a tool, a thing to be used, to follow orders like a Tranquil should," he says, pacing the length of the clinic.

"I didn't come here to cause you pain," Karl says with the slightest hint of a frown, though it's more confusion than pain being cut off from any sensation of emotion as he is. "I-" Karl hesitates for a moment, stunned by a sudden realization.

Tranquil are meant to be obedient, to follow orders. Yet somehow, he has come, found Anders with some stubborn, last remaining shred of his free will and independent thought. It shouldn't be possible. Yet here he is.

"I came to warn you, Anders. The Templars, they're very angry. I was more useful to them as a mage, but too dangerous and rebellious not to be made Tranquil. They blame you for turning me away from and defying the law and order of the Templars. They're looking for you, and I do not believe that they will stop until they find you. You- you cannot allow yourself to be caught or come to harm," Karl says, the first, if only the faintest hint of emotion slipping through in his voice.

"They've cut me off from my ability to feel, but they're not merciful enough to allow me to forget. I don't want to see you- to remember you- as anything less bright, strong, stubborn, and free than you are now."

As a Tranquil, Karl should no longer 'want' anything other than to serve his masters, this strange inconsistency, this crack in the armor doesn't make sense with what is known about Tranquil, but Karl doesn't care enough to question it, knows only that it was imperative, worth the trouble he might get in if he were to be caught, to find and warn his former lover of the danger he is in.

Anders rage is immediately quelled by concern, guilt settling into its place. He stops his restless pacing, turning to gaze at the former mage.

"You shouldn't have come."

"You do not wish to see me like this," Karl surmises with a nod. "I am sorry for the hurt it causes you. If it brings you any peace, I tried to fight them off," he offers, though his voice is still the same uncharacteristically flat tone of most Tranquil as he speaks. "To my last breath before they knocked me out, with every ounce of my strength, I fought them. Fought for us, for you," Karl says quietly. "What they've done to me has disconnected me from my ability to feel it, but I know that I loved you." I know somewhere deep down, I still do, Karl thinks, but something stops him saying it, an awareness that this will only pain his former lover more.

Anders shoulders sag as sorrow and anger mingle together, settling into a deep ache in his chest. He wants nothing more than to pull him into his arms, to hold him, kiss him, protect him from any further pain. And yet, would Karl even respond if he did?

"You have no idea how hard it is, looking at you now. The person I l-love is... gone. Replaced by a husk," Anders chokes, turning away.

Karl's face remains the neutral calm that typifies the Tranquil, but something deep within him breaks, his chest feels tight and his stomach rolls at the way this man who once adored him, who looked on him as if he were the very sun in the sky, now can scarcely stand to see him.

I'm here, some deep internal part of him longs to say, to cry out. I'm still here! I'm not dead, not gone, just.. locked away. Let me out. LET ME. OUT.

"Help me," Karl whispers, quite without realizing he has even spoken, that the plea has escaped his lips. "Please."

Anders jerks at the quiet request, his heart breaking for his lover as his eyes are blown wide with shock. How many other Tranquil still had that part of them deep inside, desperately screaming to be heard? How hard had his beloved had to fight to overcome what was done to him just to make this desperate, soft cry for help?

There is no cure for Tranquility, still the pain on Karl's face, the pleading in his voice finds Anders reaching out, hesitantly taking Karl's hands.

"You feel different," Karl says, marveling at their joined hands. "Something has changed about you. You're... like a beacon, like you're carrying a piece of the Fade itself within you," he continues, unaware of the spirit that now shares his former lover's body, but drawn inexorably towards that energy, the power from which his connection has been severed. "Being near you, I- I can feel myself coming back. It's small, in fragments, but..." Karl shakes his head, frowning, forcing himself to take a step back.

"The man I was- the one who loved you- he wouldn't be so selfish to put you through such heartache and pain for a few moments, for pieces of what was. I- I should go, before the Templars take note of my absence."

"No!"

Anders grabs his arm, fingers curling around the fabric of Karl's sleeve, holding him place. Fear and desperation make his voice rough, panic clouding his thoughts. He can't let him leave, not when there is a possibility- no, that hope- that Karl might not be lost to him forever.

"You can't just come in, tell me that you might... feel something," he breaks off, free hand raking through and mussing his hair, "and then leave me. We have to... try something."

"What would you have me do," Karl asks.

"Not give up," Anders replies with a desperate and hollow laugh, shaking his head.

Hold me, he thinks desperately as he looks into the near emotionless depths of his former lover's eyes. Kiss me, hug me, hit me, something, anything to show me this isn't just a cruel joke by the Maker, a last way to punish those like us.

He shakes his head again, fighting the urge to pull the Tranquil in against his chest. The brand on Karl's forehead mocks him, a bitter reminder of the years lost between them.

"I- I don't know. Stay here, with me."

"You want what I was. What we were. What we had," Karl observes, reading between the lines from the other's body language and pained and desperate expression shining back at him in his eyes. "But seeing me like this... I'm only hurting you," he frowns. "How can I protect you from me?"

Anders lets out of a sound that's somewhere between a laugh and a dry bark, a sardonic imitation of a smile on his lips.

"You can't," he answers honestly, his free hand gesturing to his chest. "I already care. I already love you, and I can't just stop feeling that." His expression crumbles into anguish, eyes burning with pain and anger. "How can you ask me to turn it off? You think I can simply forget you and move on?"

"If that was what I wanted I could simply have led the Templars here with me and turned you over to them, let them give us matching tattoos," Karl replies shaking his head. "I don't want you to stop caring. Your passion for life, for freedom, it's what made me love you. I want to stop hurting you, but... I don't know how."

"You're not hurting me. You- you would never. The Templar bastards are hurting me," Anders spits, his voice dripping with bitter hate.

With an almost angry growl, the healer finally gives into the urge to pull the other man into his arms, folding himself around him and burying his face against Karl's shoulder as a single tear slips down his cheek.

Slowly, Karl wraps his arms around Anders in return, holding him close, the gesture sparking memories of a hundred other stolen moments like this together in the Kinloch Hold before the Templars decided to separate them. And that thought makes Karl laugh. A short, hollow thing, nothing like the ones they shared before he was branded, but a laugh all the same.

"All of this- we might never have troubled them, well, not nearly so much if they hadn't torn us apart in the first place," Karl says in answer to Anders puzzled gaze. "We might have found a way to make peace with it all- life in the Circle under Templar eyes if only they hadn't separated us," Karl observes quietly, still holding Anders close, one hand absently reaching up to stroke his hair, the muscle memory of a former tender gesture shared between them a lifetime ago.

Anders' hands bunch the fabric at the other mage's lower back as he burrows deeper into their embrace, seeking to make their bodies touch in as many places as possible.

"We were happy," he says bitterly, a hint of petulance, a childish whine of the unfairness of it all in his voice. "We didn't do anything wrong. Not really. We didn't hurt anyone. We only wanted to be together. We should have been able to be together the same as anyone else."

"That first time you kissed me," Karl recalls softly. "I'd never been so happy. I couldn't believe, couldn't understand why someone so funny, so smart, so fucking beautiful would ever want someone as ordinary and boring as me. I thanked Andraste for you every day. I know what the Templars say, I know after what they did, I should obey without question, but I cannot believe that loving you was a sin simply because we're both men and happen to have been born with magic in our veins."

Anders closes his eyes, listening to the familiar, beloved voice speaking of fond memories. It's been so long since he heard him say his name, call him beautiful, felt the warmth of his body close to his.

"You were never ordinary or boring," he says, his voice coming out in a half sob, "You were perfect. You were everything to me. Are everything."

Karl shudders softly as Anders presses in closer to his arms, as the healer barely manages to restrain a sob. As a Tranquil it shouldn't affect him, but something inside of him stirs, cries out for him to do something, anything to comfort the man in his arms.

"I don't remember any life before the Circle. I had no reason to resist, to wish for anything different, anything more. Then, I met you, and-" Karl shakes his head. "It was like my whole world had been black and white, and there you were, bright and bold in living color. So loud and defiant. Every time you ran away, I hoped I'd never see you again, that you'd finally beat them. Then one day, I- I started to hope you'd take me with you," Karl admits shaking his head. "I used to dream about Rivain. The books always made it sound nice. Somewhere warm and sunny, you'd have so many new freckles to kiss," Karl continues with the faintest twitch of a smile at the corners of his mouth, "a place as pretty as you, where they might not even care about either of us having magic, and if any Templars dared to bother us, I could simply hire a Crow."

"It was a foolish dream. So many of them were. But my every one, from the day we met, was about you."

Anders heart aches, remembering those early days, when he first met the shy, stuttering older boy Irving assigned to take under his wing, to try and keep him in line with soft brown hair and that uncertain smile. He had taken his breath away, even then, and he hadn't stopped.

"You can't say things like that," Anders says, the words half strangled by the lump in his throat. "Say that you would have left with me, that you wanted to go... that you-" he breaks off, shaking his head with a choked laugh. "That's not fair."

"I'd go away with you now," Karl confesses. "Spend the rest of my days serving you instead of the damned Templars, if I thought for a moment that I could make you happy, could do anything besides hurt you and break your heart, for this," he gestures towards the sunburst mark upon his forehead. "And if I didn't know that you could never leave this place, these people, when they need someone like you, when there's still a chance for you to help them. But I could never ask you to change that, would never want you to be anything else, but the beautiful stubborn man I fell in love with."

That simple admission, the truth of it almost shatters him all over again, Anders buries his head against Karl's chest with a sob, his shoulders trembling.

"I wish I could say the same," he confesses breathless, his voice barely audible. "I want to say yes, to grab you right now and make a run for it and damn all the consequences. I want to be selfish. I used to be good at that. I want to keep you all to myself, and never let you go, but-"

"But you're needed here," Karl nods. "You need to keep fighting. To make sure no other mage ever suffers as we have, is forced to take the brand as I have for the simple 'sin' of loving and hoping for something better, for writing you letters. I'm a fair healer too, if you recall, or perhaps I could help make your potions and poultices for you."

"You- you'd want to stay," he swallows, hardly daring to believe it. "In Kirkwall?"

"I want to stay with you," Karl replies softly. "I've no fondness for this place, not after all I've seen, after what has been done to me, but you're needed here," he repeats with a patient smile, tipping his forehead against his. "And I- I need you."

Anders hands find their way to Karl's waist, his fingers digging in almost possessively in case he changes his mind. "They cannot have you," Anders whispers fiercely. "You're not leaving. I'm not losing you again. We will find a way to fix this," the healer vows, pressing his forehead back against his, against the brand that marks him

"Anders, they have my phylactery," Karl warns softly. "If I stay-"

"You cannot possibly think I would ever consider letting you go back to the Gallows. To the tender mercies of Meredith and those Templar bastards," Anders growls shaking his head.

"But if they come for me-"

"We will burn that bridge when we get to it," Anders replies, shaking his head, hugging him tightly.

[smokersbaby]

Request text: Hey, I saw you are hosting an event now and I really really liked the prompts :^ May you write the #6 of the SFW list with Brook, with a Fem! Reader, please? (romantic relationship) Thanks for your patience. How are you btw?

Written for: anon Character: Brook Reader: female reader  Prompts:  SFW - #6 - comparing hand sizes Total word count: +600  Author's note: I LOVED writing something with Brook, I honestly think that is one of the characters that deserves so much love! So thank you for the request! I hope you enjoy it! (I'm fine thank you for asking!) 💕 -Every reblog is highly appreciated!-

The sun was setting as you and Brook sat on top of your favourite treehouse at the edge of a meadow. At 8'9", Brook was tall and slim, with white bones that gleamed in the fading light. Because of his height, it didn't matter if you were short or tall, he'd have been way taller than you either way.

Despite the height difference, the two of you had managed to make the relationship work. But that wasn't the most difficult part of being a boyfriend and girlfriend: as a living skeleton, Brook felt like he couldn't give you what a "normal, alive man" could have given to you, like warm hugs and kisses.

You could sense that today Brook was not feeling as happy as always, he didn't tell you even one skull joke of his during the day. As you were sitting next to him admiring the sun setting on the mountains in front of you, the question that was wandering in your head slipped out of your mouth.

"What's on your mind, Brook?" you asked with a smile. He was looking down, not enjoying the view nor looking at you. "Am I enough, Y/N?" he asked. "What do you mean?" you tilted your head.

"Y/N… you should know exactly what I mean. A man in flash and bones could give you more than I, a man in just bones, can give you." That wasn't one of his skully jokes, he was so damn serious about that.

After all, he was right: the differences between him and a normal human being were evident, but you didn't care. Brook was something else, being different from the others wasn't a problem for you, since it was his uniqueness that dragged you to him that much.

His way of laughing, his silly behaviours, but also how much of a protective boyfriend he was towards his partner were undeniable facts of how sweet Brook was. When he revealed to you his past story about his crew and how he lost every single one of them you felt so touched by his past, making you realize that it didn't matter if he was just bones. His heart was pure and you didn't want to love anyone else but him.

Smiling a bit, you took his hand in yours, making him look at you in the eyes (it's an expression, he doesn't have them). Then he looked down at your hands, palm to palm against his.

"Your hands are so tiny compared to mine!" Brook exclaimed. He watched as your fingers wrapped around just one of his, making the size difference even more noticeable now.

You chuckled, "It's true, your hands are huge compared to mine. But they're always so gentle, and I love the way you can hold me so securely."

Brook smiled, "I love holding you too. And I love comparing our hand sizes. It just reminds me of how much our differences don't matter.".

As he said that, your smile became bigger. "That's exactly what I was thinking. Differences don't matter between us, I don't care if you're "a man in just bones" as you said, this is all that matters to me." you pointed at his chest, as to indicate his heart.

"How sweet, but I don't even have a heart, yohohoho!" you chuckled with him, that contagious laugh of his was everything you needed, seeing him happy was the thing that made you fall in love with him first. Now he was smiling again, as he regained his usual mood back knowing that you loved him no matter your differences, his hand still holding yours.

"Y/N?" Brook asked looking at you. "What is it?" you asked curiously. "May I see your panties now?". You laughed, you loved that silly and bit of a pervy man with all your heart.

[belit0]

What would Indra think of his wife's recarnation?😳 And how would his wife's recarnation be like?

OKAY BUT STOP BECAUSE from your question I came up with an outline of an idea and I developed this based on it! It's not a specific answer or headcanon format, but more like a mini-story that can be developed further (in case you or anyone else is interested in it!)

TW: none Pairing: Otsutsuki Indra / reader SFW

Immortal life can become boring very quickly. Some would say it is a privilege to watch generations pass, witness world events, survive pandemics and any harmful agents which may cause death.

What no one ever thinks about is how lonely this lifestyle can become. People come, but Indra knows they are never here to stay. They will all leave, but he will be there until the end of time.

It is not wise to become attached to anyone, for that individual will fade away as the years go by while he is still standing. By this rule, in general, he has always been guided. There was but one break in this principle, and it is one which he will regret for the rest of his long life.

The year was 1820 when Indra came across a damsel in distress. She was being chased by three drunken men, who were shouting profanities and vulgarities at her. Indra might not have intervened, as he often opted for a low profile and disregarded the natural chaos of things, but he was forced by his instinct to take an active role.

He saved the damsel, and there began the curse.

He fell in love with this wonderful woman, by the name of (Y/N), with whom he shared her good years of grace and virtue. It was a bitter romance, with the clock ticking above their heads, singing a cruel song that constantly reminded him their relationship had an expiry date. It happened in the year 1860, when (Y/N) died of typhoid fever.

After that short relationship, Indra decided not to pursue the matter any further. It created a greater rejection of any bond, and he opted to become a true hermit, interacting just enough to not build any kind of affectionate attachment with anyone.

Immortals have feelings too, you know?

But in 1900, the tables were turned on him. Distractedly walking down a busy street, he was almost run over by one of those gasoline-powered automobiles, the new toys of the wealthy. A woman jumped out of the vehicle in an utter stupor and offered Indra her sincerest apologies. At that moment, he realized, it was her again.

(Y/N) was coming back to him in a new format, years later, looking physically the same and acting just like she did forty years ago. New airs brought new aspects to her personality, but she was essentially the same woman he fell in love with.

After much convincing, and proving factual knowledge of her past life and family, (Y/N) eventually accepted the far-fetched theory of reincarnations and immortal beings. They managed to spend a good few years together, until eventually, life ended up snatching her away from him again.

Desperate at this mockery of fate, Indra found himself going through the same thing a total of 5 times.

Destiny would bring her to him by chance, and end up ripping her away from him after glorious years.

The last time, it happens was in 2023.

With his good ages behind him, Indra does not entertain stupid ideas or people in his day-to-day life. He enjoys small routines which get updated as time goes by, but at present, he relies on reading an e-book in a nice park and drinking coffee.

"Mundane pleasures of a cruel universe". He comments to himself, keeping his eyes on the pages before him and taking a sip of his hot drink. It is winter, and the warmth is appreciated. So immersed in his activity he was, he never noticed a young woman sitting next to him on the vacant bench space.

"I know, right? They don't even know what they have until they lose it. Absurd." The woman replies as if Indra had intended the question toward her.

Turning, surprised by his level of abstraction from the world, he finally sees her.

It is her, again, after years of her last death, sitting next to him as if nothing has happened. (Y/N) in her full glory, wearing modern clothes and a style befitting the times.

"I know you from somewhere... I think I've met you before! Your face looks very familiar..."

Shocked by the event, and perplexed by the fact that history will never stop repeating itself, Indra can do nothing but fall silent. On one hand, he wants to grab her and smother her with kisses, love, the affection he has been holding in his chest for years, secretly hoping to see her again in a new version of herself. On the other, he wants to run and flee, to cry at the injustice of a life so wicked and a fate so terrible, doomed to watch his beloved die over and over again.

"Yeah... well... I didn't want to interrupt your moment of solitude, I guess I'll leave you to it, have a good one, stranger."

And just like that, she walks away. She disappears into the sea of people that floods the park despite the cold and gets lost in a backdrop of clothes and scarves.

The same exact woman he lost a hundred times, same features, same hair color, same personality, different era.

What should he do, try to ignore what the universe proclaims he should do, abandon the idea of sharing a few more years with her?

There were several lifetimes where she didn't believe his words, refused to listen, and chose to stay away from the issue. Indra watched her from a safe distance, saw her develop into someone without being part of her surroundings, and then silently held her hand when it was her turn to leave this world.

There is no greater pain than that, and he had to experience it on several occasions. What would assure him that this time would be any different? How would he know if she will genuinely listen to his words, his initially delusional statements about how they are bound together by a link which repeats itself over and over again on a regular and constant basis?

As he mumbles his internal dialogue and tries to digest what is happening, she returns.

"I know who you are! We shared a class last semester, right? Algebra three?" This time she comes with two coffees in hand, and seems positively convinced of what she's saying. She sits down next to him again and replaces his already-finished drink with a fresh one.

"Yes... yes, exactly." The answer escapes his lips before he even knows what to say. An invisible impulse will always connect him to her, and he ceases to be in control when he finds himself in her orbit. It's intoxicating, disturbing, and addictive, impossible to fight against.

"Great! That class was a disaster, I don't know how I finished it, but it cost me my whole summer. How did it go for you?"

As he listens to that pleasant tone of voice, absorbs and enjoys it, he remembers how many years it's been since the last time something so wonderful had the pleasure of reaching his ears.

This is (Y/N), his (Y/N), and nothing, and no one is going to stop him from getting her back, once again.

[yiga-hellhole]

Intro + Masterpost

hallo i am bearie. better known by many names. and i am: normal about that old man

i've been a zelda fan since i was little and have been active in the """fandom""" before but with totk dropping we are now back in full swing. i'm particularly an enthusiast for zelda villains but agitha, midna, impa, urbosa, and the gorons also hold a special place in my heart. my favorites forever are zant and kohga. do i have a type? don't fucking look at me

i don't have time nor patience for fully rendered pieces, but my passion lies in silly and sometimes raunchy comics. expect a lot of doodles. my dedicated art tag is #beararts , and my fic tag is #bearwrites

Twilight Forest, Twilight King directory

TFTK is my self-indulgent home-grown all-organic first-ever fanfiction that i wrote because Hyrule Warriors didn't explore the possible hijinks between Ghirahim and Zant enough for my liking. it's a multi-chapter setting that (mostly) follows the canon events of Hyrule Warriors (2014), but explores unlikely bonds, passionate and heart-rending rivalries, finding love on the battlefield, and Zant playing 4D social chess with everyone he meets. the majority of it is rated Teen for violence and romantic dynamics, but two chapters thusfar are rated Mature for sexual content and graphic depictions of violence. sexual content is always non-explicit, either fade-to-black or allegorical. it's my passion project and all i think about, so please give it a try!

Ao3 Link

But you can also read it right here on Tumblr!

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18

Tag for chapters, doodles, and other hijinks

Disclaimers/Before You Follow

- please only adults follow because my affection for yigas is ravenous. minors are free to interact with my sfw posts though i don't have the beans for that kind of moderation

- please no spoilers for totk!

- be fucking normal about the gerudo. i know nintie dendo isn't capable of doing so, but you can be

thats it. feel free to drop by my inbox! my askbox and dms are always open and i'm always happy to discuss (head)canons with you all!!

- don't bother following if you get in a lot of shipping discourse (it's fine if i follow you first tho). i dont vibe with proships but i refuse to call myself an ""anti"" either because i love critically enjoying themes like a normal person. even if we ultimately agree i think that stuff is ANNOYING AND PAINFUL ‼️

- edblr do not follow i am begging you this is very bad for my mental health. if this seems way too specific for a zelda blog, trust me buddy i didn't think i'd have to say it either, but it's been happening!

[pyrettawychwiggin]

Wishful Thinking' (Nanami Kento x OC) - Part 4

(Jujutsu Kaisen Fanfiction)

Readers be warned: this fanfiction is full of heavy spoilers from the tailend of Jujutsu Kaisen's second season (the Shibuya Incident). If you are not yet familiar with what happens in that arc, I would bookmark this series to come back to when you have.

Before you read this, take a moment to check out Himawari's character sheet. Otherwise, some of the following events may not make a whole lot of sense. Enjoy!

(Temporary image of Himawari made in the Picrew creator- try it yourself here!)

General Warnings: SFW, at least PG-13 due to minor depictions of injury/gore, fluff

| ♡ |

(That evening...)

Nanami neatly tucked the final section of the sheet into the corner of the futon while Himawari waited on the adjacent loveseat, cupping the freshly-brewed cup of herbal tea in her hands.

"I feel bad," she began. "Making you set up your own bed when you're my guest."

"I insisted," Nanami replied plainly. "You may be able to stand again, but I don't want you pushing yourself too far when you should still be recovering."

He lifted the soft knit blanket over the sheet, letting it gently flutter back down onto the surface.

"Will you be warm enough with that?" Himawari eyed the blanket. She only ever used it to sit over her legs while she read or watched television in the living area. "It's a little thin."

"That will be fine, thank you." Nanami nodded, taking a seat on the edge of the futon, resting his elbows on his knees with a yawn. "Would you happen to have a spare pillow?"

"Oh! Of course." Himawari stood from her seat and started walking over to the linen closet. "Wait here."

She moved around the corner and pulled the closet door open. Tilting her chin upward, she realized her spare pillow was on the top shelf that was a little too high, even for her.

Whose bright idea was it to keep anything on the top shelf...? She thought to herself for a moment before snickering under her breath. Oh, right. That was me.

She reached upward and stood on her tiptoes when a zing of pain shot up her body from the strain, causing her to stumble back with a jolt. To her surprise, she felt Nanami's hands press against her shoulders to keep her from falling over, her back gently pressed against his chest. Not thinking, she looked up at him awkwardly from over her shoulder, her breath catching in her throat. His steady one-eyed gaze met hers and instantly made her feel three feet tall. I've never looked at his face this closely before...

"Miss Sasaki," he began, the warm breath of his voice brushing across the skin of her face. "Tell me something."

"Y-yes?" She gulped, unable to move.

"What is your aversion to asking for help?" He asked flatly. Keeping on hand on her shoulder, he reached over her head to slide the pillow off the shelf.

Himawari sheepishly sunk down a little, assuming he was genuinely irritated with her when he softly bonked her on the head with the soft pillow before tucking it under his arm. She let out a scoff.

"Hey..." She mockingly rubbed her head with a chuckle. To her surprise, Nanami cracked the slightest hint of a smile that made her heart skip a beat. "Huh. So you can smile."

"I smile plenty." He closed the door of the closet and guided her back to the main room with a gentle hand in the middle of her back. "Just not without reason."

He set the pillow down at the head of the futon before checking his own teacup. "Ah," he clicked his tongue. "I'm going to brew another pot. Would you like me to top you up while I'm at it?"

"I'm alright, thank you," Himawari responded with a bow. "I think I'm actually going to take this opportunity to shower. I haven't had the chance to clean up since..."

As she trailed off, her momentary joviality from her banter with Nanami faded, replaced with the memories she'd been trying to avoid ever since she'd finished sobbing earlier. Nanami's mouth curved into a slight frown.

"Are you sure that's wise?" He asked. "You're still not completely stable. I don't want you to fall."

"I'll take it slow and keep a hand on the wall, don't worry," Himawari replied, shaking her sadness away from her expression as best she could. "What, are you offering to help me shower?"

"What?!" Nanami's jaw dropped, surprised at her brazen remark. "No! I-I just-"

"I'm kidding, Mr. Nanami," Himawari laughed, shaking her head incredulously. "I'll be careful, okay? Make yourself comfortable; help yourself to whatever you find in the kitchen. I'll be back in a bit."

Not waiting for a response, Himawari walked into the bathroom, leaving Nanami to brew his tea, the unburnt tip of his right ear flushed red with embarrassment.

"Hah..." Himawari let out a breath of relief as she dried her hair with her favourite towel. It feels so good to feel clean again.

| ♡ |

She thew her towel into the corner laundry hamper and set her Scarecrow costume in a plastic bag and tied it off, setting it in the garbage can when she re-emerged into the main room of the flat.

Nanami was sitting at one of the stools by the kitchen island, reading one of Himawari's books while Hoshi snuggled up over his right shoulder like a fluffy black scarf. Himawari's giggle caught his attention as she approached him.

"Looks like you've made a friend for life in Hoshi."

"Is that her name?" Nanami rubbed Hoshi under the chin and was met with a soft purr. He let out an amused huff. "I think I know why we get along so well."

"Oh?" Himawari tilted her head curiously.

"Look." Nanami held Hoshi up beside his face and looked at Himawari with a deadpan expression, pointing at her missing eye with his burnt finger. "We match."

Himawari gasped and clapped a hand over her mouth, trying not to laugh; but she and Nanami both broke into laughter when Hoshi batted at his nose with an irritated chirp.

"Alright, alright." He set the perturbed feline gently on the ground by his feet. Hoshi pressed up against his calves with a purr of forgiveness before walking off to the water dish. "Oh, I hope you don't mind - I borrowed one of your books."

"No problem," Himawari shrugged. "Which one?"

"It's your collected works of Edgar Allen Poe," he explained, taking another sip of his tea as Himawari took a seat in the stool beside him, resting her elbows on the surface if the island.

"Oh, that's a great read," she said with a smile. "I didn't know you liked Poe."

"Truthfully, I haven't read much of his work," Nanami crossed an ankle over his knee as he spoke. "I've read The Raven of course, and The Tell-Tale Heart, but that's about it."

"What kind of books do you usually read?" Himawari asked.

"I enjoy historical fiction and mystery - but I'll read almost anything with a decent plot and premise." He pressed a lip to his fingers as he thought about it. "Actually, I was just in the middle of reading F. Scott Fitzgerald's 'The Great Gatsby' before I was called away to Shibuya."

"That's a classic." Himawari smiled. "Have you read it before, or was that your first read through?"

"That was my first. Then again, I have a collection of books I still need to make time for." Nanami hid an involuntary yawn behind his hand. "Pardon."

"No worries - it's getting late. We should probably turn in for the night. Before we do," Himawari began. "Would you mind if I check on your burns?"

"Mm?" Nanami regarded her with surprise and curiosity. "You're not going to try to use your time reversal again, are you? I won't allow it - you've pushed yourself too far as it is."

"Oh, er - no... even if I had the energy, that wouldn't work. Too much time has passed since you first sustained these injuries," Himawari explained. "But there's power and magic in this world that has nothing to do with cursed energy."

"Oh?" Nanami raised an eyebrow. "Like?"

"Modern medicine." Himawari smiled. Nanami nodded in understanding. "In this case, a gel derived from my aloe vera leaves. It does wonders for burns. I know that they will never fully go away - these burns are far too intense for that - but with proper care, we can speed the healing process along."

"Have you done this before?" Nanami was genuinely curious, but also uncertain, generally preferring to see a doctor or a medical sorcerer when injured.

"On a much smaller scale, yes," Himawari answered honestly. "I've used it on animals a couple times when they've shown up with burns. It always works wonders, though; and it can bring some pain relief in the earlier days."

"If you're sure, I won't turn down the help." Nanami nodded in acceptance. "Is there anything you need from me?"

"Nope. Just go ahead and take a seat on the futon while I go and get the mixture ready," Himawari bowed respectfully and walked off to her patio garden from the sliding wooden slat door to her deck.

Nanami obeyed, settling on the edge of the mattress to wait. A minute later, she returned with several thick, green aloe vera leaves and a clean mixing bowl, setting them down on the counter. He couldn't see what she was doing from where he was, but she seemed to move with the confidence of someone who knew what she was doing.

"Alright; that should do it," Himawari sighed, taking a moment to wash her hands at the kitchen sink. "If we need more later, I can always mix up another batch."

She carried the bowl over to the futon and took a seat beside Nanami when she had a realization.

"Oh, er..." She said shyly.

"What is it?"

"I can't access your burns like this - with your shirt on, I mean." Himawari's cheeks went red with embarrassment as she spoke. "I'm sorry if this is awkward."

"Don't be absurd." Nanami unbuttoned his collared shirt and removed it, setting it neatly on the pillow. Himawari tried to avert her eyes, now feeling overly aware of how close she was to the sorcerer.

"Would you rather I start with your front, or your back?" She cleared her throat and busied her hands with the mixture, preparing to place the first layer.

"The back, I think," he replied, shifting his body to face away from Himawari, resting his knee on the surface of the futon. She slathered a handful of the gel onto her hands, hovering them over his skin and pausing.

"I should warn you; this will sting at first, but the soothing effects shouldn't take long to kick in. Just let me know if you need me stop, alright?" Himawari waited for a response and received a single nod. The moment she placed her hands on his shoulderblades, she felt his muscles tense as he took in a sharp inhale at the jolt of stinging pain shooting across his skin.

"Sorry..." she winced. Nanami simply nodded for her to continue. As she moved the gelatin around the surface of his skin, his tension slowly eased away and he let out a long, deep exhale of relief. "That's a little better, I hope."

Nanami closed his eyes as he allowed Himawari to ease the gel across his back, impressed with how gentle yet firm her touch was. "You're very good at that."

"Well, I'd better be - it's kind of my job, after all," she joked. "I'm a massage therapist and acupuncturist - part-time, anyway."

"Hm." Nanami's response was curt, but he couldn't help but imagine having a proper massage from Himawari and felt his temperature rise a little. He pushed away the thought almost as quickly as it had come. Stop it, you oaf. This woman is going out of her way to help you; this is no time to be thinking of that.

"That was a clever career choice," Nanami stated with a calm smile. "Utilizing the skills you already have in your day-to-day basis - it's very fitting considering your cursed tool."

"I thought so, too. Your back is fully covered." Himawari removed her hands from his skin a few minutes later to Nanami's silent dismay. "Would mind turning around so I can get started on the rest?"

Nanami nodded and shifted around to face her, looking down at her with an unreadable expression before casting his gaze to the sidd. She took more gelatin into her hands and hovered them over the burns on his ribs and stomach.

"Again, this will sting at first..." She placed her hands on him once more and felt his muscles contract, his eyes clenching shut with a low grunt. "Hang in there, Mr. Nanami. It will pass."

Sure enough, the pain passed as she worked her way up his torso, easing the gelatin across his skin and carefully spreading it with her palms, fanning her fingers out gently then relenting her pressure to reach back into the mixing bowl. She tried to pay no mind to way his well-toned body felt; the way his muscles contracted and relaxed under her touch - but she would be lying if she'd said it didn't have her feeling some sort of way. Just as his strong back had been, the rest of him was just as well-defined.

Stay professional, Hima. She gulped. Just like any other client.

She briefly worked her way up his neck before her hands arrived at his jawline. She gently applied the gelatin to his cheekbones and just by his lips, then up to his forehead just around his eyepatch.

"The skin by the eyes is far more sensitive than the rest of your facial skin," Himawari explained, her hand lingering on his shoulder while the other hovered over the medical tape across his left eye. "I'm going to remove the eyepatch so I can tend to the skin around the wound and disinfect it while I'm at it, alright?"

Nanami nodded and closed his remaining eye as her soft hands slowly removed the medical tape and gauze, setting it to the side. He could still feel the soreness around the socket, but he was certain this was only due to his burns, now.

Huh... Himawari started applying a thin layer to the tender skin as he let out an almost imperceptible wince. Even with half his body covered in scar tissue and an eye missing, he's still so handsome.

His hardened expression was no less intense with his remaining amber eye. His blonde hair fell flat over his furrowed brow, and his jawline was sharp enough to cut paper. He maintained an intimidating and powerful aire through his sheer strength of presence alone, yet Himawari felt completely safe in his company, despite the butterflies in her stomach.

All too soon, she knew had finished her task. As she started to remove her hands from his face, Nanami's long fingers caught hers and brought them back up to his cheek, his eye closed as he took in the feeling of her fingertips on his skin.

He seemed almost as surprised as she was at his reaction, removing his hands from her own immediately with a gulp.

"I'm sorry, Miss Sasaki..." He cleared his throat and looked away abashedly. "I don't know why I just grabbed your hands like that."

"Hah - no harm done!" Himawari's cheeks were beet red, but she waved the moment off with a laugh to try and break the tension. "I hope I wasn't too rough on you - burns can be a nasty business."

"Not at all. I feel much better, thank you."

Himawari carefully started fashioning a fresh new eyepatch from sterile gauze as Nanami regarded her, deep in thought.

"I want to ask you something," he began. Himawari nodded to signal she was listening as she cleaned off her hands with a damp towel she'd brought with her. "Why did you leave the program all those years ago? Surely you could have been a valuable Jujutsu healer with a few more years of study."

"Oh, er..." Himawari frowned, unpleasant memories flashing behind her eyes, the echoes of long-standing guilt and inadequacy circling within her mind. "I just... wasn't cut out for the life of a Jujutsu sorcerer. I was never able to keep a cool head in combat. I would have been dead weight no matter who they would have paired me with - and I certainly would never have been able to take on a high-level threat solo."

"Perhaps if you were paired with the right team mate, you may have felt differently."

"Like you?" Himawari joked, raising an eyebrow and flashing him a cheeky, bittersweet smile. "Trust me - you don't want to be dealing with a big nasty curse while you're stuck hauling me around because my knees buckled a block and a half ago."

That earned her a huff of either mild amusement or derision. She chose to change the subject.

"Looking at the state of those burns, they appear to be third-degree, though they were probably fourth-degree before my time reversal..." Himawari started sifting through her medical kit. "As you can already tell, the recovery process is... unpleasant, but you should be through the worst of it now."

She unpacked a sterile pack of gauze wrap and signaled for Nanami to extend his arm as she wrapped the gauze around his burned areas.

"Right now, your biggest risk factors are going to be infection and dehydration. The gelatin I used was instilled with a minor antibiotic, but we still need to be careful and keep things as clean as possible while your body works on repairing itself." As Himawari reached her arms around Nanami's back, he shuddered at the sensation of her breath across his neck. "Staying hydrated - that's your main job now. Beyond that, we can leave these bandages alone for a few days and check on your progress when it's time to let your skin breathe."

"Thank you, Miss Sasaki." Nanami bowed, meeting her soft smile with one of his own as she tied off the last of the gauze wrap.

Nanami and Himawari lingered on the futon for a moment. Nanami stared down at her soft features, accented by the glow of the golden lighting of the nearby paper lamp. He found his gaze drawn to her long honey-coloured eyelashes, then to the smattering of freckles on her cheeks, and finally to her peach-coloured lips, parted ever so slightly in a way that had him subconsciously leaning forward before he stopped himself.

Himawari seemed to shake off some sort of thought herself, rising to her feet with her back to the sorcerer.

"Well, I've leave you to it then, Mr. Nanami," she said with a bow. "I hope you sleep well. If you need anything, don't hesitate to wake me, alright?"

Before he could answer, she was skittering back to her room with a cheerful "good night!" before disappearing around the corner.

Nanami let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, lowering back onto the futon in silence, his mind moving at a mile a minute. Meanwhile, Himawari buried her blushing face into her pillow, attempting to shake the feeling of his hands pulling hers back to his face, and the way he had looked at her just a moment ago that had her reeling.

I'm reading way too much into this...

~ To Be Continued...

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Sketches I need to make after this chapter:

• Nanami & Hoshi ('Look. We match.')

• Nanami holding Himawari's hands up to his face.

Part 3 | Part 5