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nickfowlerrr · 2 days ago

Text

once more with feeling

pairing: professor!bucky barnes x curvy!actress!reader (reader is not a student)

warnings: mdni. no smut. flirting. i’d label this as soft horny if that were a thing lol. edward/guy moratz makes a short appearance. not much else really but self-indulgence at its finest. reader is probably minimum twenty five but you can imagine whatever age 21 and up you'd like and it should read alright.

words: 5185

notes: this was originally going to be a professor bucky x reader fic but then i got the idea for auditioning reader and then i thought oh! what if i wrote for my latest obsession - edward/guy! so then it was gonna be guy x actress reader but then i realized i kept picturing bucky and i’ve missed writing for him so then it changed again into professor bucky but now with actress reader and that’s where i landed with it even though i think this would work so well with guy as our guy and truth be told upon rereading myself i did start to picture him instead of bucky ha but ANYWAY this is buckys fic but if you wanna picture guy that works pretty well too 🤭 writing this was a nice distraction from the craziness of life lately and i hope you enjoy it. also just to say it - if you haven’t had the chance to watch a different man yet, you absolutely should. it’s great.

pls lmk your thoughts! i’d love to hear what you think. thank you in advance for reading! as always, comments and reblogs are so appreciated and more than welcome. 🩵

Goosebumps have risen all over your skin as you sit in the uncomfortable auditorium seat. Your legs are freezing thanks to the dress you don; despite its length, the fabric doesn’t provide much warmth and you can’t help but shake just a touch as another chill comes over you. You wrap your arms as tightly as you can around yourself but it too does little to help. The shrug cropped cardigan keeps your arms covered but the cold still chills - even inside the walls of this classroom auditorium.

This was a stupid idea, you accept far too late.

Granted, your planned outfit originally saw you in lined leggings to help fight the cold of the season, but after your little trip down the stairs on your way here - despite having held the skirt of the dress up to avoid such a fall to begin with! - you decided to toss the ripped and coffee soaked leggings and keep on instead of doing what the universe clearly was screaming at you to do: Go back to your apartment, take those god forsaken heeled shoes off, and put on something simpler. You were trying too hard.

Maybe you were. But you couldn’t care. You needed this. And when do you get to wear a dress like this on the daily? It fits the mood and works for the role without being a costume. You may feel a little uncomfortable, you don’t wear dresses out often, but you don’t think you’ve really made the wrong choice.

You were last on the audition sign in sheet so thankfully no one would be left to watch you the way you’d just studied the twelve other girls reading for this role.

They all dressed casually, had book bags with them, it was obvious they all attended this school. And here you were! A college dropout, overdressed in comparison, and clearly out of place.

Ah, you’re getting too in your head again. Always looking for a reason why something won’t go your way. But you’ve been working on that, and calling yourself out seems to help.

You take a deep breath as the last girl clears the stage and the casting table speaks amongst themselves.

You haven’t been able to see any of their faces, only the backs of their heads. You aren’t sure if there are students or faculty at the table with them but you figure it doesn’t really matter.

The casting call said all were welcome to audition - student or not. The location was only at the college because of renovations on the theatre in the city.

…It did say that, right? You’re not auditioning for a college show, right?

Your heart begins to pick up speed as you worry. Did you read it wrong? Were you making things up? You scramble for your phone and as you pull up the email the city theatre sent out last week, your name is called.

You don’t have the chance to reread it before you shut your phone off and tuck it away in your bag, placing it on your seat as you stand. You take a breath as you smile as confidently and friendly as you can and make your way down to the stage.

“That’s me,” you say as they watch you.

Finally you’re able to see their faces and as you make eye contact with each of them you can feel them sizing you up. Three people sit at the folding table before the stage and one man sits a bit further back in the second row of auditorium seats. He has yet to look up from his book and you realize you hadn’t noticed him at all earlier.

A younger man at the casting table, no more than 30 if you’d had to guess, tilts his head as he watches you ascend the few steps to the stage.

“So,” he states your name again, “do you attend classes here?”

“No,” you answer with a small shake of your head, “no I’m not a student.” You work to maintain your easy smile as you feel all eyes on you.

The man nods and turns to speak to the man still sitting and reading behind him. “Well, Mr. Barnes,” he gets his attention finally, “no pressure to stay. All the students have been seen, you’re free to go. This is the last audition for the day then we’ll be out of your hair.”

“Until tomorrow when you’ll take over my auditorium again,” he rumbles lowly as he stares at the man who is still looking at him.

You swallow hard as you do the same. His eyes are bright despite his obvious annoyance, his dark hair pushed back as he tries to keep it out of his face, only a couple silver strands shining through the dark chestnut brown; the stubble that covers his jaw adds to his air of gruffness - the spot of gray near his chin adding to his appeal. He’s tall, you gather as your eyes move down his body, his long legs. He wears dark slacks and a baby blue button up dress shirt tucked into his pants. The sleeves are rolled up his forearms and the top couple buttons of his shirt are undone, giving just a hint at his chest hair and the chain that hangs around his neck.

You realize you’re staring as you hear the voice of the younger man responding to Mr. Barnes, but you don’t hear what he’s saying as you force yourself to look away. Your eyes blink up and you’re caught. His blue eyes are on you, brows furrowed and his expression unreadable. You quickly look away and pretend you weren’t doing a thing as you wait for them to give you the go ahead.

Some more words are exchanged as they seem to try and appease the man whose classroom they are in. You’re not entirely paying attention to the conversation as you run your lines in your head for the millionth time.

You know the words. You know the part. You’re not worried, necessarily. But you haven’t booked a single thing in the past eight months and to say that hasn’t shaken your confidence in yourself even just a little bit would be a lie. But you’re getting back to your roots. You’ve missed the theatre. It was and will forever be your first love. This is your first stage audition in a while though, and your first experience with this theatre. Since moving to the city, you swore you’d audition for one of their shows but just never got around to it as your focus shifted to film. This is your time now. Is it going exactly how you’d envisioned it’d go? Well, you’re standing in a university campus auditorium instead of the stage at the Fervent Fires Theatre to audition, so, no. But that’s okay! You have a good feeling about this. And as you stand here, you feel more and more relaxed. It’s kind of bringing you back to your high school days - the annoyed teacher having to share the auditorium with the annoying theatre people. It’s funny.

And after seeing the other girls audition you really don’t feel too stressed. Most of them were late teens auditioning for Elmire. Despite the fact you played her in your late teens, too, that was simply because the production was full of other teens and young adults. You’re definitely more of the right fit even now. You’ve seen some of the theatre's productions before and who and how they tend to cast. Granted this is second day auditions and everyone else who has been seen might be in your league, but you won’t dwell on who you may be compared to - and you kind of needed the confidence boost today.

You take a breath and remind yourself you know what you’re doing. Whether you get a callback or not, just being on a stage again, acting in front of people again, you’ve needed this. It’s good.

You come back to yourself, out of your head and more at ease and hear Mr. Barnes as he speaks.

“And I appreciate being ‘free to go’ but I’m fine right where I am. Seeing as how this is my classroom, I’m sure that won’t be a problem.”

“Oh, no, of course not. I just meant that if you wanted to go, you were free to, are free to, do, ya know, whatever you want. We were under the impression you were required to be here as a faculty member during student’s auditions, but, uhm, yes, of course. We aren’t trying to push you out or anything,” he smiles before nervously clearing his throat and turning back to face the table. He shuffles around the papers before him and you see him pull your headshot and resume to the front of his stack, grabbing his notes and pen before turning his gaze to you.

“Alright, sorry about that. You can start whenever you’re ready.”

Their eyes are all on you. The casting table, and the man behind them. He’s set his book down next to him, has his hands folded in his lap as he sits back in his seat, casual and intent all at once, while his brilliant blue gaze is set right on you.

The audition is a blur, it goes by so fast. As you thank them for their time, you’re surprised when they offer you more information they hadn’t given out before.

“Callbacks will be next Tuesday and they’ll be at the actual theatre. We’ve been under construction all month but should be good to go next week. We appreciate you taking the time to come audition here, we know it’s a little out of the way in comparison.”

“Not a problem at all, it actually isn’t too far from me,” you smile.

“Good, well, keep a look out for an email with more details and…” the director on the end of the table looks up to you as if she’s catching herself from revealing a secret, then sighs, “ah, screw it, you’re definitely on the callback list,” she smiles, “we’ll see you there.”

“Amazing,” you breathe, “I’m looking forward to it. Thank you again, so much,” you can’t help your grin as you walk closer to the steps of the stage.

The casting table packs their things as you walk past them back to where you were sitting before. You’d left your bag and half drinken coffee so you make to go get it. As you pass the first few rows, you feel Barnes’ stare again, this time only fleeting as his name is called from the young man who spoke to him before.

“This table?”

“You can leave it,” he states, sounding bored.

“Okay. Thank you again for letting us use the stage, we really do appreciate it.”

You don’t hear him reply as you hear the casting team leave out the door.

The realization you’re the last one left intruding on this man has you hurrying up.

Until you hear his voice again.

“You were good.”

You turn at the compliment, wide eyed as you see him coming closer up the steps. Your heart seems to skip a beat and you wonder what he’s doing until he bends down a few rows before you and picks up an empty coffee cup someone must have left earlier.

You’re caught a bit off guard but force your mouth to work after a second, “Thank you.”

“Yeah,” he nods as he stands back up straight. You watch as he tosses it easily into the trash can at the bottom of the stairs before he turns back to look at you again.

You were right. He’s tall, and somehow even more attractive than you’d originally thought now that you’re seeing him even closer.

“I’m no director, but from what I’ve seen yesterday and today, if I was casting, you’d be it.”

“Oh,” you feel your face warm despite how cold the auditorium still is, “that’s,” you laugh a little under your breath, “that’s really nice to hear, thank you.” You have to look down as his gaze is just a little too much for you right now. You don’t need to fall down another set of stairs today and if you let yourself get lost in those ocean blue eyes of his, you’re almost certain you will.

“You seem more shy off stage than you do on,” he comments, taking another step up the stairs, another step closer to you.

“Yeah,” you titter nervously, “um, I’m an actor, ‘m pretty good at faking it when I have to.”

He raises his brow at your unintentional innuendo and immediately you catch yourself. You feel like you’re on fire and you see something in his eyes, almost like he’s working himself up to reply as he takes the last step he needs to be on the same level as you.

“You fake it a lot?”

Your lips move as if you have words to speak but nothing comes out as he stares at you and you stare back.

God, he smells good. And he’s so tall. And muscular. And pretty.

You blink as you try to break yourself free from this trance.

Is he hitting on you? You don’t even know this man’s name and yet there’s a fluttering in your tummy at the way he’s eyeing you. His gaze roves down your body, over your soft curves that are accentuated by the corset dress hugging you. His tongue darts out as he wets his lips seemingly without thought and that familiar desire that’s been plaguing you the last six months since your breakup has you fidgeting where you stand. He’s so effortlessly hot and the thought of getting on your knees right here and now for him hits you out of nowhere and only burns you further. Wow, where did that come from?

You haven’t been with anyone since you ended things with Nick, and you may be horny, but you’re not desperate… Are you?

You swallow hard and extend your hand to him, offering him your name as you do. He smiles with a deft chuckle, looking from your hand back up to your eyes before he takes your hand in his, seeming to ease some tension in him you hadn’t noticed before. Maybe not tension, maybe anxiousness? But no, that couldn’t be it. His smile is so easy there’s no way the word confident wouldn’t be in your top choices to describe him.

“James,” he supplies as you shake his hand. His big, warm hand that you can’t help but imagine the weight of if he were to place it on your waist. He squeezes you just a bit and another wave of your sudden desire rolls through you.

“Nice to meet you,” you say, sounding a lot more sultry than you ever intended. His lips quirk and he takes a second before he responds, again, you get the funny feeling he’s working himself up to say what he does.

“Can I be honest with you?” he asks bluntly, waiting for your nod before he continues. “I saw you staring at me when you were on stage.”

Okay. Ha. Wow. You’re so hot you wouldn’t be surprised if steam was coming off your cheeks. God, you could just explode from your mortification at his words. Is he really calling you out like this, right to your face? Your cheeks are burning and you don’t know what to say. You suck your lips in your nervousness as you inhale a breath through your nose, letting your lips go as you suck your teeth when you release them. You look down as your tongue runs along the edges of your teeth. A nervous habit when you’re at a loss for words as you let out a breathy titter at being caught and having it brought up.

You hear a light laugh from him before your breath is stilled when he gently touches your chin, his touch warm as he tilts your face up so you’re looking at him once again.

You’re stalled in a sort of awe as his eyes seem to twinkle at you.

“You don’t need to be embarrassed,” he assures you, his voice smooth as silk, “I was staring back.”

The soft smirk on his lips lights you up as you unthinkingly wet your own. In any imagined scenario you would never have thought you’d be so receptive to a stranger coming on this strongly - so boldly and up front. But here you are. Receptive as hell. There’s something about him, about his approach, that has you even more attracted to him than you were at first glance…er, stare. His voice, his attitude, the way he’s looking at you. As if he knows exactly what he wants, and he’s going for it. As if the very thing he wants right now, is you.

“Your eyes alone are captivating, but there’s something else about you,” he muses, “you got on stage and it was like I couldn’t look away.”

You almost have to force yourself to take a breath before you can talk. “The dress,” you quip with a small shrug.

“The dress,” he looks down at your body once more, a funny fluttering setting your core alight under his gaze, “well it definitely helped. It’s nice,” he compliments, his hand reaching to touch the fabric and grazing your hip. At his touch his eyes flick up to gauge your reaction and, seeing what you’re sure is a dreamy like haze, he goes on. “Look, I have to teach a class here in half an hour so I’m just gonna cut to the chase,” he says, a hint of an east coast accent slipping in and becoming clearer in his voice as he speaks, “I think you’re gorgeous. And I think you might think I’m not so bad myself,” he half smiles as his lips twitch. “I know this is forward,” his eyes meet yours once more, “and there’s no expectation here.”

Your brows raise despite yourself as you wait for him to go on. He licks his lips again and takes a step closer to you.

“Do you wanna have sex with me?”

You inhale sharply as you pause, your lips parting with the breath.

Weirdly some far off part of you was kind of expecting that was where this was leading, but in the very same breath, you really were not expecting him to say that. Your mouth goes dry and your mind goes blank as you try and process his words. You know your immediate, no thought involved answer. But surely, this calls for some thought, doesn’t it?... It’s not like anonymous sex isn’t a thing, it’s just never been your thing. But you do have the rest of the day free and you’re riding on a kind of confidence high at the moment, and god is this man tempting.

A small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips as he stares at you, studying you and waiting for your yes or no.

“You do this a lot?” you ask instead.

He breathes a soft chuckle, “Never, actually,” he shakes his head, “but I’ve been out of the game for a while, recently been told I need to put myself out there, and I guess I don’t really know how to be anything other than direct these days.”

“Hm,” you look into his bright eyes, a sincerity there you don’t find in people often these days, “I guess I can appreciate that.”

“Is that a yes?”

Fuck it, you think. You’ve been pushing past your normal comfort zones all day. What’s a little sex with a hot stranger? …Right? You’re seconds away from saying yes, how could you not, you egg yourself on, but you figure you should make this as clear as you can. Not that his answer has much chance of changing yours.

“Is this just sex? Or…” you trail off.

“At the very present moment,” he specifies, “just sex.”

You nod in easy understanding, readily taking it for what it is, but he continues on.

“And if you wanna leave it at that, we’ll leave it at that, but if you’re interested in dinner later tonight, too, I’d be glad to buy. Pick you up and everything.”

“Oh, what a gentleman,” you simper with a titter you can’t suppress. “Okay.”

“Yeah?” he asks.

“Mhm,”

“Sex?”

You nod with a smirk as he closes the gap between your bodies.

“Right now?” he adds again, getting the same response as you smile against his lips when he leans in closer.

He kisses you. You’re immediately lost to him as his lips touch yours, his stubble tickling your soft skin. It’s surprisingly tentative, slow and soft at first, like he’s testing the waters between you. After a long moment, he decides to pull away, not too far, only parting for a split second. You're struck by the fleeting feeling of his lips being on yours, it steals your breath as you mindlessly lean into him immediately looking for more. Your eyes meet again, there’s a glimmer of shared recognition and you know he feels the same, and then his lips are on yours even more hotly. You’ve always thought people were dramatic when they spoke about having sparks with someone, that it wasn’t a real experience, just hyperbole… exaggeration, but you’re realizing now you just hadn’t ever experienced it before. That spark, that zing, it is real. It must be, because as crazy and sudden as it is, you think you have it here.

His hand comes to hold your head, keeping you close as he leads you. You might be embarrassed by the way you melt into him if you were thinking of anything other than how good his touch is and how perfect his lips seem to meld with yours.

You’re filled with a thrilling excitement you don’t know you can compare to anything you’ve felt before. This is new and nice and as the kiss deepens, your nerves turn from jittery butterflies in your belly to a smoldering desire that burns lower and lower. His firm body is pressed to your soft one and his free hand falls to the tail of your back, holding you closer and keeping you there against him before his hand snakes to your hip, wandering up your curves as he feels as much of you as he can. Your own hands are against his stomach as you chase his kiss, fingers fisting the fabric of his button down shirt.

James nips at your bottom lip and you give him entry without a pause, his tongue slipping in your mouth as he kisses you fervently, like something out of a movie. You’ve never been in a situation like this, and you can say with certainty you’ve never been kissed like this either.

You let your hands slide up his torso until you find the first button. As if you’ve done it a million times, you easily begin the tedious task of unbuttoning each one - though you take your time, not wanting to break any as you’re still caught in his hold, still lost in his kiss.

You hate having to break away but you need a breath and despite the loss of contact with your lips, James’ continues to travel along your skin. From your cheek to your jaw and down your neck as you angle yourself to allow him more access, all the while your fingers do their work and your breathing turns heavier. Once the buttons are undone you pull the tails of his shirt from his pants. His hands are still on you, feeling you as he kisses your delicate skin.

Your hands stabilize yourself by holding his sides as he yanks you closer to him still. He’s much thicker than he looked, you realize as you touch him. Your hands wander up his back, wanting to get his undertank off as soon as humanly possible so you can really feel the muscles there.

He brings an arm around your waist and his other hand glides down your back until he gets to your bottom, groaning in your neck as he squeezes you there.

“Buck?”

A loud voice breaks the trance the two of you have been under and causes you to jump as you hear the doors closing and footsteps coming around the side staircase, bringing a different man into view.

You’re startled, and James gallantly moves you just behind him despite your still fully clothed state. You’re still grateful though, you know you must look a little mussed, your cardigan falling down your arms and James’ undone shirt hardly producing any air of innocence about what was unfolding just moments ago.

“Oh, sorry,” the man starts with inquiring eyes, looking between the both of you. He’s just as tall as James and has eyes just as blue. He’s clean shaven, though and not as bulky. Still, they look like they could be brothers. “Professor?” he asks, “Am I interrupting something?”

“She’s not a student, Guy,” James responds, annoyance clear as day in his voice. “I’m not Drysdale.”

“Right,” Guy says on a light, breathy laugh, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He seems uncomfortable at the mention. You see him as he eyes James’ still undone shirt.

“What do you need, Guy?” James asks firmly, getting his eyes back on him.

“It can wait,” he brushes off, “just wanted to say thanks for letting the theatre use the stage again, we appreciate it.” His eyes flick to you and he seems to make a connection. “Elmire?”

Your eyes meet his in surprise, “Um, yeah,” you nod with a small smile, shifting your weight from one leg to the other, arms crossed over your chest.

“Tartuffe,” he gestures to himself with a smile of his own. You suddenly recognize him and take a step forward.

“Wait, did I see you in Death of a Salesman the other month?”

“Yes,” he smiles even more sincerely now, “yes, it’s the year of the classics at the theatre,” he chuckles.

“Right, yeah, you were incredible. Really great performance,” you compliment him.

“Thank you very much. I heard good things just now about your audition, I’m assuming you’re -,”

James interrupts Guy by supplying your name himself, causing you both to look at him. You fight a smile at the sound of it on his lips.

“Well then,” Guy looks back toward you, clearing his throat a bit, “I will be seeing you at your callback,” he turns to James, “and I will be seeing you in the office later.”

He takes a step back, “It was nice to meet you, and thank you again, Bucky.”

The name catches your attention as Guy walks off and James turns back to face you.

He sighs as he looks at you, reaching for your hand which you allow him to take.

His touch is deceptively delicate and you can’t pretend you don’t like it.

“Bucky?” you question. He meets your gaze and gives a sheepish half smile.

“Nickname.”

You nod, “Ah. Makes sense,” you lilt, holding his eye. “Suits you.”

“You can call me Bucky if you’d like. Like the way it sounds when you say it.”

You huff a laugh, looking away. He continues on, “I’m sorry for that interruption, I uhm,” he let’s go of your hand and moves to start buttoning his shirt back up, “I think we’re gonna have to try this again later,” he pauses, glancing back to you, “if you’re still-,”

“I am,” you smile, cutting him off.

He finishes tucking in his shirt and then immediately takes another step closer to you.

His eyes are scrutinizing in the best way as he takes your face gently in his hands, your own coming to hold his wrists; his bright gaze shining into your own. It feels intimate but strangely…right.

“I guess I should be thanking Guy,” he muses. Your brows furrow in unvoiced questioning. His lips quirk at the face you make. “I was taking the advice of someone I’d never normally take advice from being so forward with you. Honestly, it’s not really me,” he admits, admiring the soft smile of your own gracing your lips at his words. “I’m more of the courting type.” You laugh brightly at his choice of words as he smirks. “Old fashioned, I know.”

“No, that’s..That’s good. More my speed. I was uh, stepping a little ways out of my comfort zone with this myself.”

The want that had been burning between you two wasn’t exactly boiling over at the moment, but despite the space between you now, it was still there... Call it a low simmer.

He pulls you closer as you wet your lips and his nose brushes yours. You’re certain he’s about to kiss you and your eyes flutter shut but instead, Bucky pulls away. He lets you go as he bites his own lip and you both hear the opening of the door again before you hear multiple footsteps follow in.

“My class is starting soon. But,” he gets his phone from his back pocket and hands it to you, “we’re still on for dinner?”

You take his phone with a demure smile, feeling somewhat grateful for the shift in direction, and send yourself a text message, saving your contact in his phone before handing it back, his fingers grazing your own. “I’d really like that.”

Students begin to file in and get seated around the auditorium as you stand with Bucky.

You turn to grab your bag and your coffee cup, then face him again. You glance around and notice you’re still relatively alone, most of the students have sat toward the middle of the auditorium, and no eyes seem to be on you, but you keep your voice low anyway.

“And I do get it if you really want to go slow here, but, if you want to…ya know, try this,” you raise your brows, hoping to communicate your meaning, “again, tonight, I’d be up for that, too.”

He nods, a schoolboy smile on his lips as he admires you.

Your lips twitch with a smile of their own, “I’ll see you later.”

You feel a renewed giddiness as you turn from him and he returns your ‘bye’. His eyes are on you as you make your way down the steps and follow you until he can’t any further. You liked the feeling.

Call you crazy, but you think you just might be developing feelings for Bucky already as it is, despite not knowing much more than he seems to be a kind man, gentle, confident, insanely attractive…. You wouldn’t be surprised if this dinner solidified those feelings and more, even further. You’re looking forward to talking with him, really getting to know him.

You may not be one for sex with a stranger, but sex after the first date doesn’t sound too out there for you... Especially not when that date is with Bucky.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x curvy!reader #actress!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfic

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erenstitanweave · 2 days ago

Text

❥HOW WE LOVE III

pairing: various x reader (vi, caitlyn, vander)

rating: giving/receiving love language headcanons

a/n: so, this is officially a new series! please keep in mind this will be my first time writing for all upcoming characters, respectful criticism and advice on how to write them is welcome! SPOILER ALERT!! reblogs and comments are appreciated, hope you enjoy!!

giving:

poor vi, her eldest daughter syndrome bleeds through every aspect of her life (relatable but we move on)

all jokes (are we joking though??) aside, i think vi would be hesitant to love quickly or even love at all

vi isn't someone who shows her love through words though, so i feel like if she really began to care and love you, she would show it though her actions

i feel like her main type of acts of service would be protecting you in some manner, whether it be verbally or physically

she's genuinely afraid of losing you, so the protective nature would be slightly overbearing in cases where she's on the edge, but other than that, it's pretty standard.

quality time is another big one for her, not just because it's also a way for her to trust you, but because she'd quite literally just want to get to know you better

i could see this being the case whether or not you live the same type of life (i.e: being a zaunite or not)

i feel like she's seen enough to know that regardless of what side you're on, experiences vary for everyone, and she'd just want to know yours and through that, open up to you

small side tangent, but she's TOUCHY.

once she's attached to you, so are her hands. they quite literally are always on you in some way, whether that be through subtle touches (i.e: letting her hand graze against your side when she walks past you, her hands lingering too long as she's holding you, etc.) or through much more obvious ones like an arm wrapped around your waist

receiving:

although she is a protecter by nature, this causes her to be very wary of people and not very trusting of just anyone

i feel like she wouldn't just prefer acts of service but she would need it in order for her to begin to trust you

acts of service, subconsciously or not, are vital to slowly letting down her walls and letting her become trust worthy of you, but once they're down, it's game over

we see in the show how she is once she trusts someone, she shakes off the shell she shows the world and just becomes herself.

i feel like she'd love someone who can't keep their hands off her (except in the obvious situations)

even lingering gazes would make this girl WEAK and she knows it, so just imagine what having your hands all over her does to her brain (short answer: she short circuits)

much like vander, i think a part of her craves words of affirmation because of how her past mistakes constantly haunt and consume her being

even though a part of her knows it isn't her fault things turned out the way it did, a part of her mind won't allow her to believe it

even if she never might truly believe or accept this fact, hearing you tell her good things about herself and praise her makes her head spin with this feeling she can't explain, but all she knows is that it's one she'd never let go

VANDER

giving:

vander to me is probably one of the more protective characters in the show and i think his love languages in terms of giving reflect that heavily

i personally think he'd adore quality time the most, being the man he is, he doesn't really get much time to himself outside of his kids and dealing with the Lanes

it doesn't really matter what kind of quality time to him either imo, i think he'd be most comfortable with just being in your presence, even if you two aren't saying anything

one of his favorites moments though, is seeing you with his kids

he adores seeing you with them, the sight warming his heart knowing the family he works so hard to keep together is happy

words of affirmation i can see being another huge one for him, he'd definitely let you know that you're doing good in whatever you may be doing or even just making it through each day

he'd often pull you aside to let you know though, wanting his words to only be for you and not the prying eyes of others (or the kids potentially listening in on you both)

i could see vander being into physical touch, but only very slightly if it's in public

if you were behind the bar with him, he'd ever so slightly graze the small of your back with his palm or subtly grab onto your waist as he cleaned off the bar

he's an asshole though (lovingly, of course) and would do this especially if you were talking to someone just to get a laugh out of it

he'd be extra careful with this though, as he knows that he constantly has eyes on him, ones that could be dangerous to you if he overdoes his affections

receiving:

i could see vander loving words of affirmation in return, he definitely needs to hear that he's doing a good job taking care of his kids (especially when he feels like they fuck up because of him)

i also can see him holding a lot of doubts about past decisions in all aspects, so just hearing you tell him that he's doing good and that everything will be alright grounds him more than anything

even just telling him that he's a good father, even with his faults and past mistakes will make him feel so much better, no doubt making him fall for you even more than he thought possible

he's the biggest sucker for physical touch too, especially really subtle ones just for the two of you

don't get him wrong, he loves big gestures of physical affection, but he's not alone with you often, making the subtle ones happen a lot more often

he definitely loves holding hands and interlocking fingers especially, the latter being the one you two do more often when around most people

but when the last drop is closed to outsiders and is usually just benzo, the kids, and yourselves, he's all over you

he'll mostly have you in his lap if you're not off with the kids, or just hugging you from behind

CAITLYN

giving:

this girl is a bit of a tough one for me i won't even lie, but she's very well meaning in most aspects

i feel like she'd be into quality time and gift giving honestly

hear me out though, living in piltover her whole life and only recently seeing for herself how the world is and how things can change in an instant makes me think she'd gravitate towards spending time with you in one way or another

it doesn't even have to be explicitly spending time together either, just the fact that you'd be near her would be enough, especially if you're close enough to where she could protect you if need be

her protective nature is one reason why time with you is so sacred to her, not only that she'd be able to cherish her time with you, but that she'd truly be able to appreciate life in it's entirety

the gift giving aspect simply stems from her being wealthy (well not really)

i just see her as someone who expresses herself and what she wants to say with actions, and those actions are gifts

doesn't matter what you like honestly, she'd get it somehow. luxurious clothes? boom, right there on your shared bed. foods or sweets? she somehow has the entire stock right in front of you with a small smile on her face

both of these, to me, just stem from her innate desire to make you happy

she wants to give her lover the world, and with all she's seen in such a short amount of time after being spoonfed certain things about the world, she wants to make sure you're happy with her for as long as you both live

receiving:

receiving is a slight improvement but honestly she screams physical touch and words of affirmation yearner

think about it, being as skilled as she is, she's probably gotten praise about it from everyone

from you, though? it's way different in her mind, especially if you actually talk about why you give her the praises you do

she's expected the praise by now, but to her, it'd feel different because with you, it didn't feel..obligatory or forced

it wouldn't feel like the stuffy, fake pleasantries she'd be used to being in such a high place of power all her life, but something much more sincere and loving

she'd crave it, even going so far as to push herself beyond her limits just to hear you praise and support her for doing so

physical touch to me is another big one for her, i could see touching being a huge factor for her simply because of the intimacy

she most likely has never had anyone as close to her as her lover, so the sheer intimacy with even the slightest of touches knowing that she will only allow this from you is mindblowing for her in the best ways possible

#ali's writings ✮#arcane #arcane x reader #vi arcane #vi x reader #caitlyn kiramman #caitlyn x reader #caitlyn arcane #vander arcane #vander x reader #dividers by cafekitsune

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rafeysdeer · 3 days ago

Text

imperfect for you (aka insecure reader x comforting rafe)

kook!reader x rafe cameron

prompt: a party that was supposed to be relaxing and to clear the head goes terribly wrong, leaving a very anxious and insecure reader, good thing she has her very caring boyfriend who knows exactly how to take care of her.

a/n: okay, that's the first time i write for rafe, i really like obx and rafe, so i tried my best in here, but i didn't really like it, i think it's bcs it's my first time writing about him. english is not my first language, i hope you guys like it 💗

You weren't exactly excited about going to this party, but you knew your boyfriend was, and you didn't want to be a party pooper, and at least you'd be with him, nothing bad would happen if you gave up and went to a party, right?

Well, you were wrong, terribly wrong, even though you were a kook, you never exactly fit in, you never got the right friends, and even though you were pretty, guys just didn't seem to be interested in you.

That was until, Rafe Cameron laid eyes on you, in your little sundress, having a drink at the club, just looking for some peace, you looked almost ethereal in his eyes, and he just knew you were meant to be together, it took a while to convince you of that. You spent most of the talk thinking it was some bad joke, because there was no way, Rafe Cameron, the king of kooks, was there, talking to you, interested in you and not on your hot friend, or literally anyone else.

You two get along almost instantly, his charm had you wrapped around his finger, and you loved it.

It had been months since you two started dating, but you still didn't feel like you fit into his social circle. So when, the first moment he separated from you at the party, a girl purposely bumped into you, spilling her drink on your short dress and whispering 'Whore' in your ear, you were sure.

Rafe didn't get it why you suddenly looked so upset, but he wanted everything, but to see his girl upset, so when he suggested for you, that you two go home, you happily headed towards the truck.

"Sweetheart, you need to talk to me. What the hell happened that you suddenly look like a kicked puppy?" and it only took his playful words for you to burst into tears in the passenger seat, it wasn't just the girl or the stained dress, everything looked too much, and you looked so small, a girl being an bitch was all you needed to lose it.

Rafe immediately looked at you with his blue eyes filled with concern. "Hey, love, I was just kidding, you don't look like a kicked puppy, I swear." he says trying to understand what happened to make you break down.

You looked up at him, your pretty eyes shining with tears. "I just-, I don't feel like I fit in, Rafey, like i fit right in with you, but i'm just unwanted by everyone else," she says, her voice cracking with tears. "I tried to fit in, but I've been around these people my whole life, and they've never liked me, and now I feel like I'm holding you back, or making them look down at you"

Now, he looks like a kicked puppy as he looks at you with a worried expression. "Honey, you don't have to fit in, those people at the party, they don't like me either, they look at me like shit too and that's not your fault, not at all, you don't need to fit in with them because you think you have to because of me, the only person I need by my side, is you."

She blinks her bright eyes at him, as if the words had run away from her mind. The car stops in front of the house, and he gets out, opening the door for her, greeting her with a kiss before the words even come back to her. "I love you, no matter what any of those assholes think, because you're the one who's here for me, not them."

She looks at him, looking almost wonderstruck, a smile breaking across her face, wrapping her arms around his neck. "The only person I need is you, Rafe," she says, knowing that the feeling was mutual. "What do you say we go inside, put you in some comfy clothes, and watch Sex and the City?" She laughs at how well he knows her as they walk into the house, his hand around her waist.

"Sounds perfect."

#rafe x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #rafe cameron thoughts #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #drew starkey #outerbanks rafe #obx #outer banks

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padfootagain · 2 days ago

Text

Love in Verses (XLVII)

Chapter 47: ‘To whom I owe the leaping delight that quickens my senses in our wakingtime and the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleepingtime’

Hi! Here is a new chapter! A short but sweet chapter!

I hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Hozier x fem!reader (professor!AU)

Warnings: slow burn, angst, hurt, hurt/comfort, tooth-rotting fluff in later chapters, some scenes in later chapters will have heavy sexual themes even if it’s not explicit nsfw description, so no minors here

Summary: Your life seems perfect. You're engaged, your career is thriving as you become an assistant professor at Trinity College, and this Andrew Hozier-Byrne you're sharing an office with seems to be a nice guy you hope to call a friend soon. Life seems to be smiling at you... until everything goes sour. When your fiancé breaks up with you, your perfect world shatters. And when your colleague also gets his heart broken soon after, your shared office seems to be a curse rather than a blessing. But Andrew seems determined to mend your broken hearts... Will things finally go according to plan?

Word Count: 1696

Masterlist for the series – Hozier’s masterlist – Main masterlist

A Dedication to my Wife

To whom I owe the leaping delight That quickens my senses in our wakingtime And the rhythm that governs the repose of our sleepingtime, The breathing in unison Of lovers whose bodies smell of each other Who think the same thoughts without need of speech And babble the same speech without need of meaning. No peevish winter wind shall chill No sullen tropic sun shall winter The roses in the rose-garden which is ours and ours only But this dedication is for others to read: These are private words addressed to you in public.

T.S Eliot, Collected Poems

Andrew was locked up in his office again.

It happened often these days, and you wondered why. You guessed that he must have a heavy workload, after all it would soon be the season for final exams, and you were pretty busy too.

Still, this week he had spent most of his evenings in that room after dinner, staying up late enough for you not to notice when he finally came to bed.

And he looked tired. He wasn’t sleeping enough, and the dark circles under his eyes were a visible sign. He didn’t seem sad though, and he was still as loving with you, still affectionate. Still, you hoped that he wasn’t fleeing you, for some reason.

It had been going on for two weeks, and you were resolute in asking him what he was doing during all those long hours.

He heaved a tired sigh as he entered the kitchen, Elwood in tow, and he bent to pet your dog before turning to you and wrapping his arms around your frame. It was quite late already, dinner was almost ready. Nothing complicated, it was a Thursday night after all, and nor you nor Andrew were in the mood to make some complex recipe. He had offered to order something, but a simple pasta recipe would do, you had the ingredients for it, and you had offered to prepare dinner for tonight.

Andrew buried his face into your neck, holding you tight, pressing your back against his chest. Outside, it was heavily raining, you had turned on the lights. The regular pattern of the falling rain was mixed with Elwood’s heavy breathing behind Andrew.

“It smells delicious, my love,” Andrew whispered into the skin at the base of your neck, where it connected with your shoulder, and it sent delightful shivers down your spine.

“Thanks. Nothing fancy, though.”

“Thanks for cooking. I didn’t have it in me tonight.”

“That’s alright.”

He had just taken a shower, wearing now his plaid pyjamas, and his wet hair dripping all over his shoulders and wetting your t-shirt. You didn’t mind though.

“What about we watch a movie after dinner?” you offered, but you felt him tensing behind you.

“Yeah…”

“You can say no, if you don’t feel like it,” you chuckled.

“I just… I have something I want to finish first.”

You nodded, but remained silent. He heaved a sigh, and it was his turn to notice that you were tensing.

“I’m sorry…”

He didn’t offer any explanation though, so you had to go fishing for it.

“What are you working so hard on, anyway?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re always working these days. Is it your research? Or is it your classes?”

He remained silent for a moment, you thought he wouldn’t answer. But then he spoke again, quiet and soft, almost afraid.

“Am I really spending that much time working?”

It was a genuine question, asking for your opinion, his tone let you know that he wasn’t trying to fight you back. On the contrary, he opened his hand to splay his fingers across your stomach, the touch soothing, anchoring you in his hold.

“Kind of. For the last couple of weeks… yeah… you’re working a lot. I’m a little worried, to be honest.”

“No need to be worried, I’m fine,” he reassured you. “I’m just busy.”

He let out a long exhale, moving his head to rest his chin on the top of your head.

“I’m not neglecting you, am I?” he asked with genuine worry in his voice. “I know how I can be sometimes, I’m… I’m terrible at balancing work and love.”

You moved out of his embrace to put the pasta in the boiling water.

“No… but I… have I done something wrong? Are you angry with me?”

He frowned hard.

“No, of course not.”

“So… you’re not fleeing me.”

“Fleeing you? Why would I do that?”

“I don’t know. You work a lot more than usual, I… I’m worried you could be avoiding me.”

“I’m not. I’m not avoiding you at all, I…”

He heaved another sigh, and he looked so tired all of a sudden. But he didn’t seem sad, he had a smile on his lips.

“I… I’m writing. A lot. That’s all.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Like I… I’m trying to make sense of all the work I’ve been doing these past four years,” he explained. “And I…”

He stopped, and turned around in a hurry. He almost ran to his office, while Elwood was staying in the kitchen with you. All you could do was stare at the empty kitchen, blinking your puzzlement away.

Elwood let out a whine, trying to get a treat, and you mindlessly gave him a tiny piece of food.

And then Andrew was back, his laptop in hand. He made room for it on the table.

“You can look,” he said, nervously rubbing the skin behind his ear. “It’s not completely finished, but… I’m close. You can read it if you want.”

You walked closer to the computer, read the title on the first page.

Unreal Unearth

Poetry by Andrew Hozier-Byrne

You looked up at him again, smiling now.

“So… you’re finishing up a new book? That’s why you’ve been so busy?”

“Yeah… babe, I’m… I’m sorry, I know I haven’t spent a lot of quality time with you these past couple of weeks, but I really want to get the first version done, so I can send it to my agent and my editor.”

“That’s amazing! Why didn’t you tell me about it sooner? That’s exciting!”

He stared at you for a moment, and then he reached for the laptop, changed the page.

For Y/N, who’s love guided me through the nine circles.

You stared at the letters, read them again and again. But they were still there, printed in pixels on the screen.

Slowly, you turned to Andrew, who had a shy smile on his lips.

“So… your poems are about me? The… the poems you want to be published… are about me?”

He chuckled.

“Only the nice ones,” he admitted. “It covers the last four years, so…”

“Hmm… break-up hell too.”

“Yeah… but not just that. Most of them are about you. And even those that aren’t about you… I’ve organised it thinking of you.”

“A favourite that I should read first?”

He rubbed his cheek for a moment, thinking hard.

“I don’t know if it’s a favourite but…”

He looked for a precise title, and let out a satisfied hum when he found it.

Francesca

“Naming it after another woman… doesn’t start so well,” you teased, trying to hide how fast your heart was beating at the thought that he had written about you.

He laughed at that.

“Do we know a Francesca?” you asked, but Andrew nodded.

“You like her a lot.”

You frowned, silently encouraging him to go on. He nervously rubbed at his neck.

“I… I’ve tried to structure it using Dante’s view of hell.”

You raised a surprised eyebrow.

“But you… It’s… I love this book…”

“I know.”

“So… Francesca, after…”

“Francesca da Rimini, yes.”

You didn’t say anything, merely stared at him for a moment, and then looked down at the laptop again. And as you read, you could feel tears rising, overflowing at the corners of your eyes.

If someone asked me at the end

I'll tell them put me back in it

Darling, I would do it again

If I could hold you for a minute

Darling, I'd go through it again

I would still be surprised I could find you

In any life

If I could hold you for a minute

Darling, I would do it again

“You… you wrote that about me?” you asked, your voice shaking.

“Yeah.”

“You mean that?”

“Of course, I do.”

“You’re insane.”

He laughed while you read the rest of the poem.

I would not change it each time

Heaven is not fit to house a love

Like you and I

You remained silent for a moment, trying to process his words. The scholar in you was dragging your attention towards the beauty of the text, the references, the balance of fiction and truth…

… but all your brain could really register for now was that he had written this for you. That he wanted to publish it in a book he was organising after one of your favourite pieces of literature, with your name written on it.

You looked up at him, dried your cheeks.

“You… you’re okay?” he asked.

You nodded, before rushing into his arms.

“I love you, you know? I love you so much,” you mumbled into his chest, making him smile.

“Of course, I know. And I love you too. I love you.”

“It’s so beautiful, Andy.”

“Thanks. So… you like it?”

You laughed.

“Like it?! You’ve basically professed your undying love to me in one of the most beautiful poems I’ve ever read, of course, I don’t like it. I adore it.”

He rolled his eyes, holding you close still.

“Right, still going strong on the encouragement, I see...”

“I’m being honest.”

“You hype me up too much.”

“No, I don’t. You just can’t take a bloody compliment.”

He laughed, but couldn’t find an argument.

“Are you gonna work on it after dinner?” you asked.

“Nah… for tonight, I’d rather spend some quality time with my muse.”

You were about to protest, but glanced over at the laptop again.

At your feet, Elwood was rubbing his body against your and Andrew’s legs.

“I’m your muse…”

“Of course, you are. Who else could it be, but the love of my life?”

You closed your eyes, grinning at his words, feeling the warmth of happiness spread through your heart, radiate through your entire chest, and you noticed that the feeling had never felt so vibrant before, so absolute, so overwhelming.

Meanwhile, Andrew was letting relief wash over him, holding you tight, pressing his lips to your hair and breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo.

And he thought of the ring he had hidden in his office, and how much he wanted to see it on your finger for the rest of your lives.

#hozier #andrew hozier byrne #the hoziest #hozier x reader #hozier x you #hozier x y/n #hozier fanfiction #hozier fanfic #hozier series #hozier professor au #hozier au #professor au #series #writing #fanfiction #fanfic

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mrsmangi · 3 hours ago

Note

black dahlia ! <3

denial - luigi mangione

♡ flower prompt: black dahlia - lie - meaning: symbolic of betrayal and sadness ♡ w.c.: 2.4k ♡ a/n: wrote this sick af. angsty. hope you guys enjoy!

♡ send me a flower & i'll write a drabble based off the prompt ! ↪ prompts that have been requested

It began with a fleeting look. Luigi never meant to linger, to observe, to hold his glance for just a second too long; but you had a way of drawing people to you, like moths to flame.

Luigi convinces himself that his attraction to you is harmless, that there’s no real damage in observing the details that make you who you are. He tells himself it’s not a crime to notice the way you tuck your hair behind your ear when you’re bored or how the corners of your eyes crinkle into crow’s feet when you laugh. Those things were small, he reasoned–details anyone could notice, nothing out of the ordinary. He tells himself he’s just being attentive, but the more he notices you, the harder it is to pull away.

There’s safety in silence, in pretending he doesn’t see what’s so plainly in front of him. Luigi has always been measured with his words, careful not to betray anything more than what’s expected of him. He’s an expert in deflecting, in shifting the conversation to avoid focusing on himself for too long. He offers vague smiles and light-hearted quips that leave questions at bay to his friends–to you. When you ask him about his day, he chooses his answers with precision, giving you just enough to keep the conversation alive, but never enough to come within arm’s reach of him.

“How was work?” he recalls you once asked, leaning against the counter as he fiddled with a loose thread on his sleeve.

“Fine,” he replied quickly. “Busy, but you know, the usual.”

You tilted your head, clearly unconvinced. “You say that every time. Is it really always the same?”

His lips twitched into a small smile. “Pretty much. Routine keeps the place running, I guess. Not too much room for excitement.”

You chuckled softly, letting the conversation drop, but he noticed the way your eyes lingered on him. How your smile had faltered at the edges, like you were waiting for him to say something else. Luigi noticed, and he felt the weight of it–your expectation hanging in the air, but said nothing. Instead, he shifted slightly, breaking eye contact like the moment didn’t matter; as though the silence between you didn’t carry all the words he couldn’t bring himself to say. Just like that, the moment slipped away, like it had never existed at all.

Some moments, though, aren’t so easily brushed off.

It’s a Thursday evening when you ask Luigi a question he isn’t ready to face. The sun has already set, and the two of you sit across from each other. The faint sound of cars and incoherent conversation passes outside. You’re relaxed, leaning back slightly, but your expression is steady when you speak.

“Luigi?” you call.

“Yeah?” he replies, looking up from his phone, eyebrows lifting slightly.

There’s a pause as you fidget with the hem of your sleeve, gathering your thoughts. You lean forward, gaze meeting his. “Do you ever think about us?”

For a moment, Luigi stares at you, his brow furrowing as though he doesn’t quite understand the question. “What do you mean?” he asks, voice light, nearly playful, as if you’ve just told him a joke he doesn’t fully get.

You don’t waver. “You know what I mean, Luigi.”

He blinks, tilting his head as if he’s searching your face for a clue. “Are you asking if I’ve ever thought about us like…more than friends?” He keeps his tone casual to distract himself from the weight of the question.

“Yes,” you answer, plainly.

Before he can help it, he lets out a short, breathy laugh–the kind that sounds more like discomfort than humor. “What?” he says, brows knitting together as he leans back. “You mean, like us? Together?”

You nod, expression calm but insistent, and Luigi shifts in his seat. “I mean,” he stares, trailing off as he scratches his head, forcing out another quiet chuckle. “I don’t know, I haven’t really…thought about it.”

He’s lying. He knows it, even as the words leave his mouth. He keeps going, keeps up the casual façade because he can’t tell if admitting the truth would make things better or worse. “We’re just good the way we are, right?” he adds, his voice a little too light. He really hopes you’ll just agree and let the conversation die, just as you have so many other times before. But you don’t. Instead, you tilt your head slightly, watching him with an expression that makes it clear you’re not buying into his act.

“You’ve really never thought about it?” you press, your tone soft.

Luigi’s heart gives a sharp twist, but he keeps his face neutral, or at least he tries to. “Not really,” he says, forcing another shrug. His smile feels thin, stretched, like it might just snap under the heaviness of his words. “I just… I guess it’s never crossed my mind, you know?”

Lie. Lie, lie, lie. It’s a flimsy excuse, and he can see the way your face changes–how your lips press together, the way your eyes narrow, and how your nose scrunches in disbelief. He’s convinced you’ll call him out on his bullshit, but you only nod, sitting back a little.

“Right,” you say simply, but your voice holds an emotion he can’t name.

Luigi isn’t ready to carry the weight of the silence that follows. He taps his fingers against his knee, movements precise and practiced, as if he’s trying to convince himself he’s unaffected. Every second that you hold his stare feels like another crack forming in the wall he’s spent so long building. He shifts again in his seat, glancing at the door, the table, anywhere but you, because he knows if he looks at you for too long, the truth will slip out before he can prevent it.

Have you already figured it out? Have you noticed how his voice falters when he says your name or how he catches himself glancing your way even when there’s no reason to? Maybe you’ve been keeping a record of the times he’s brushed you off in conversation, every moment he’s chosen his words carefully to avoid giving himself away. His knee bounces once, then twice, and he forces himself to stop, planting both feet firmly on the ground. He clears his throat, but it doesn’t help or ease the tension coiling in his stomach. He knows he should say something, anything, to break the silence, but every word that comes to mind disappears before he can voice it.

“You okay?” you ask quietly, and Luigi’s stomach twists at the way your words cut into him.

“Yeah,” he replies quickly. The sound of his own voice feelings foreign, like it doesn’t belong to him. He forces another laugh, but it doesn’t sound convincing. “I just wasn’t expecting this conversation, that’s all.”

Your eyes linger on him, and he swears he can feel them peeling back every layer he desperately tries to keep intact. Can you hear his heart pounding? See the way his hands are clenching to keep himself from fidgeting?

“I didn’t mean to throw you off,” you say softly, and your voice is so honest, Luigi finds it harder to keep up the charade.

He nods, not trusting himself to speak. The only thing he can think about now is how much he simply wants to tell you the truth, how much he wants to admit he thinks about you more often than he’d like to admit, how much it kills him to act like you don’t mean more to him than you should.

It’s for the best, he thinks as you finally look away. He says nothing. Your attention shifts to something else and Luigi tells himself that keeping his distance will protect you–the both of you–from the complications of what could be. The space between you feels wider than it ever has before, and Luigi knows it’s his fault. He’s created this distance, but that doesn’t make it any easier to bear.

“Thanks for your honesty,” you add, though the words sound hollow.

He wants to say more, to explain himself, to pull you back from the space that seems to have opened between you at that moment; but Luigi only watches as you smile–polite, but not warm. You shift back slightly, to create distance from him, even as he sits with you in the same room.

After that, things change.

Luigi notices the way you pull back, the way your laughter becomes less frequent around him, the way you seem to hesitate before starting conversations you once dove into effortlessly. He hates it, hates himself for putting that distance between you. Still, he tells himself it’s what’s right, that keeping you at a distance spares you both from destruction. He can’t stop himself from having moments of weakness.

A few days later, it’s a late afternoon when the two of you end up on a park bench, although neither of you is entirely sure why you’re there. You had sent Luigi a text earlier in the day, asking if he wanted to get some fresh air. He hesitated, staring at the screen for longer than he should have before replying with a simple, “Sure. Meet you at the park.”

There wasn’t a plan to say anything heavy–it was supposed to just be a walk, casual, quiet conversation to fill the gap that had been growing between you. As the two of you meandered through the trails, the silence felt heavier than usual. Every lighthearted comment you attempted to make seemed to fall flat, and Luigi couldn’t help but give clipped, almost distracted responses.

When you spot a bench tucked beneath the shade of an old oak tree, you gesture to it. “Want to sit for a bit?”

Luigi glances at you, observing you, before nodding. “Yeah. Sure.”

So, here you sit, side by side, the quiet stretches on. Neither of you speak for a while, and it’s only when the silence finally becomes unbearable that Luigi breaks it. “You’ve been quiet lately,” he says, voice soft, but his words carry an unrecognizable edge.

“Have I?” you ask plainly, your foot nudging a stray leaf.

“Yeah. Feels like…you’ve been pulling away,” he nods, exhaling a breath.

You don’t respond, tracing the grooves of the bench’s armrest with your fingertips. Your lips press together before you finally speak. “Maybe I am,” you admit.

Luigi’s stomach turns. He forces himself to look at you, brows furrowing. “Why?” he asks, even though there’s a knot in his chest that tells him he already knows the answer.

“I’ve been so stuck, Luigi,” you say, looking at him. You hold his gaze longer than you have in weeks. There’s a look in your eye that he can’t place–one of hurt, maybe, or resignation. “I’ve been standing still in the same place for days, weeks…and you’ve already made up your mind.”

He opens his mouth slightly, as if he’s about to argue, to tell you that you’re wrong, that he hasn’t decided anything, but no sound comes out. The truth–messy, tangled, and heavy–lodges itself in his throat, impossible to force past the weight of the lie he’s been holding onto: he doesn’t have feelings for you. Instead, he looks at his hands, jaw clenching.

“You know, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” you continue after a beat, gently. “I’m not trying to…force anything, but it’s hard to keep pretending everything’s fine when it feels like you’re not being honest with me, Luigi–or with yourself.”

He knows he should give you an answer, something solid. A part of him wonders if this is the point of no return–if saying nothing will just make you drift further away from him. His mind churns with half-formed thoughts, excuses he doesn’t even believe, but all that slips out is a weak, “I don’t know what to say. I didn’t realize it felt that way to you.”

Luigi hears your sigh. From the corner of his eye, you shift slightly, leaning away from him on the bench. As much as he’d like to reach for you, he stays in place, hands interlocked together in his lap.

“Um,” you begin and pause. You sigh again, leaning back against the bench. “I think I need a fresh start.” Your voice is tinged with sadness, and Luigi suddenly feels uneasy for a reason he can’t explain. “Somewhere new. Different.”

Luigi feels his chest tighten, stomach falling at your words. He looks at you then, really looks at you, and there’s a finality in your face that he isn’t ready to confront. He manages a small nod, voice strained as he mutters, “That makes sense.”

You gaze at him, softly and with resolute, and then glance down at your shoes. “My mom has been asking me to come stay with her for a while,” you confess, sounding uncertain. “She thinks a change of scenery might be good for me. She’s in California now, close to the coast, actually. She’s been saying I could take some time to figure things out, you know? Clear my head and whatnot.”

Luigi says nothing. He should say something–ask you not to go, tell you that you don’t need to figure things out on your own, he’s here for you–but he only nods again, forcing himself to meet your gaze. “That sounds nice,” he says softly.

“Yeah,” you say, smiling faintly. It doesn’t reach your eyes. “I think it might be what I need. It’s not forever, just a little while, but it feels like the right thing to do.”

His heart sinks further at his words, and he watches as your gaze drifts, your mind clearly elsewhere. Maybe you’re daydreaming about the possibilities of what a fresh start could mean for you. Luigi wants to tell you that he’s sorry, to apologize for the reason you’re feeling lost, but he doesn’t know how.

Finally, you stand, movements slow as if you’re preparing to leave something behind. Leave him behind. “Take care, Luigi,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. Then, without another word, you turn and walk away, footsteps light.

Luigi stays on the bench, rooted to his seat, hands clasped tightly in his lap as he watches you disappear down the path. As the sun dips lower and the world around him continues to move, Luigi remains frozen on the bench, clinging to the fragile hope that this isn’t the end—holding on to denial, even though deep down, he knows you’re already gone.

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pearlescentparade · 1 day ago

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Mayhaps a 007n7 drunk fic and as u try to help him out he starts saying how pretty u r or smth . . :] is this fluff ..help ..

ik i posted yesterday saying i wouldn't work on requests until the end of final's week but uhh i lied tehee the requests u guys send r just too cute and i cant stop myself 💔

🍔 007n7 x reader fluff 💝

it's a nice evening to drive through the streets. the streetlights intermittently shine on your features in a rhythm as you pass them, and the stars are especially bright tonight. there's rarely anyone on the road at this time, just you and the city. it feels peaceful, like the world is sleeping.

until it's interrupted by the sound of your phone loudly ringing with an incoming call. annoyed at the disturbance of your immersion, you glance to your phone to see who dares to bother you.

...007n7?

what could he possibly want at this hour? you can only hope he hasn't gotten himself in trouble again... when it rings a third time, you promptly press the green button to pick up and immediately put him on speaker.

"hello?" "ah--hhhhheeeeyyy!" you wince at his volume, promptly turning it down a bit. he must be awfully close to his phone. "...have you been drinking, 7?" you ask, though you can already guess the answer from his overly enthusiastic greeting. recently, he's gotten into the frequent habit of drinking to cope with the loss of his adopted son, and it's been worrying you sick. on the other line, you can hear him giggle giddily. "maybeeee..! aanywaaay, i missh youuu... wish--hic--wish i could :to you t' meee, heheh!" his tone is high and airy, and he comes across as almost schoolgirl-esque with the way he's talking.

you sigh, "i'll be there.. just sit tight, don't do anything dumb!" after he cheers, you hang up. tonight's going to be one of those 'drunk sitting 007n7' nights it seems... when you tap your gps' search bar to input his address as your next destination, it already pops up as the top result.

"i'm home," you announce monotonously as you open the door to his residence. "honeeyyy! yer--hic--yer heere-!" upon hearing your arrival, his voice enthusiastically rings out from the kitchen. the affectionate nickname never fails to give you butterflies, it makes you feel like you two are a married couple. 007n7 sits slumped near his kitchen counter, a bottle of whiskey loosely clutched in his hand tells you what you already know. his cheeks are flushed a bright red and a goofy yet endearing smile is plastered on his face when he looks up at you. "alright, i think you've had enough. let's get to bed." ushering him to bed is the most difficult part of these nights. 007n7 doesn't get aggressive or particularly uncooperative when he's drunk, but he tends to act frustratingly clingy and.. flirty.

when you go to carry him under your arm, he throws his entire body over you and derails it into a hug, tittering all the while. you have to lean your head back to not accidentally kiss him from how much distance he's closed between you two. even his eyes smile as he looks at you, your faces barely inches apart. "yerr shooo--hic--pretttyy, 's even beetterup clossse, hmhmm.." if you weren't already flustered by the sudden closeness of the hug, you're definitely a burning mess from the compliment. c'mon, regain yourself, he doesn't even know what he's saying!! just tuck him in and you can leave and forget this ever happened! by shaking your head, you slightly recover your composure and hoist his legs around your waist in a piggyfront position. now to get him to the bedroom. the trek isn't far, albeit 007n7's embarrassingly sappy behavior of chanting how attractive you are and other lovey-dovey comments on the way there complicates it.

"yer the--hic--the prettiest person 've ever seen!" "mhm." you give curt and short responses, hoping he cuts it out or else you might faint from the overwhelming barrage of love. "'m soooo lucky--hic--t' have such a beauty takin' care 'f mee~" "mhm." unfortunately, it's not working. "'ve gotta be the oooonly--hic--guy who gets thiiish close t' youu--hic--!! ...y' don get like thish wif otha mennn, d' you...?" "mhm- wait, wh--no! obviously not!! ..you're- you're the only one..." you can't even handle doing this with just him, it's unimaginable to think of being this intimate with several people. "yaayy! 'm glaadd... we should--hic--get married!" "...huh?!" HUH? "cuz ye said--hic--thaaaatt amm the oooonly one fer youu, haha!" "that's-- no, that's not what i-- sigh, you're drunk, 7..."

opening the door to his room, you rush to the bedside and attempt to wrench him off of you onto his bed. "c'mon 7, let go.. you need to sleep-!" but he only holds on tighter, refusing to let you release yourself from him. "nooo!! jusht schleep wif mee--hic--jusht fur t'night? puhleaaaaassee? 's ooonlyy one night!" he digs his head deeper into your neck as he pleads, fervently adamant on keeping you. what's up with him?? he's never pulled this stunt before, so you're unprepared for handling this kind of situation. after some time and poor wrestling, you give up, moving your hands from trying to rip his off of your nape to resting on his back. it's clear to you that you're not going anywhere, so what's the point of fighting it? anything to get him to rest. acquiescing to his pleas, you lay yourself and him on the bed and bring a blanket over the both of you. immediately, he snuggles in closer and entangles his legs in yours, embracing you like some kind of life-sized teddy bear. and within seconds, he's out like a light.

feeling yourself drift off as well, you exhaustedly exhale and let sleep take you. whatever, you'll deal with him in the morning...

(this one was a bit short but i hope it's cute :']] idk how to rlly write 007n7 aside from the one line on the wiki saying he's optimistic and worries for his teammates n such and this fic is a bit ooc cus hes drunk😞😞he'll be sober in the next one tho teehee)

#forsaken #homicidalporkchops #roblox #007n7 forsaken #forsaken x reader #007n7 forsaken x reader

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kameyyy · 2 days ago

Text

PASSION; atsumu miya x reader

subject: i don't fucking know

cw: 17+ to read, not proof read, cursing, mention of a deceased grandparent [please refer to the general tags/warnings on the m.list !]

a/n: the emails yn writes like i mentioned in chapter 1 !! pretty short but it's not supposed to be poetic since yn is just expressing her feelings here.

wc: 336

from: [email protected]

to: [email protected]

subject: i don’t fucking know

hi grandma.

atsumu showed up at my work. after years of nothing, he just walked in on a random day and tried talking to me like it was no big deal. like what happened between us was no big deal. he apologized for what he did, but it was obvious he didn’t mean it. he would’ve reached out sooner if he was sorry. like maybe 3 years ago. but he didn’t, so seeing me only reminded him of my existence. fuck him. ruining my life and then forgetting about me. lol i hate him so much. i don't even know why he bothered apologizing — just to ease his own guilt, i guess. though, he thinks what he did wasn’t completely wrong. pissed me off more than anything. how can you be this deluded. if what he did was good, then i wouldn’t work at a rug shop and do my masters like yukie. but no, i started college a year ago and i’m falling behind.

i’ll find out about my exams soon. i don’t even know how to feel about it. i hope they went well. my major isn’t something i love; it’s just what felt tolerable when i chose it. nothing really interests me. there’s nothing i’m passionate about, nothing that feels worth chasing or devoting the rest of my life to. it’s exhausting seeing everyone else, especially atsumu, seem to have it all figured out. it’s so easy for them. so clear. and i just feel stuck and lost for years already. like i’m on autopilot while everyone else is actually living. i don’t know what i did wrong. what i’m doing wrong. i don’t know. i just want to enjoy life like everyone around me is.

that’s it, i guess.

hope life in heaven is treating you well. or this black abyss. i don’t know what comes after death. i don’t even want to think about it. bye.

- yn

please consider leaving a like, reblog or follow if you enjoyed <3

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taglist, open (comment here or send an ask);

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iratempestatis · 18 hours ago

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Heyy! How are u? I hope you’re doing well i saw you wanted some requests for xiao and i thought of an idea so we know xiao’s true form is a bird right? How about xiao’s s/o one day discovers it by an accident? Like maybe the s/o is an adventurer and was exploring around liyue in the night and happened to hear the whistling sound we hear in the game in liyue (the one where xiao calls for his dead friends) and the s/o goes to see what the noise is the rest is up to you

Entwined.

Xiao x gn!reader, 5.5k words. Some angst and then all fluff, it may not have been exactly what you wanted but I do hope you like it! I love bird Xiao <3 Feel free to send more Xiao asks! Rest assured I will write them even if it takes some time :3

Being an adventurer is hard work.

Find a suitable commission (which never happens), figure out any additional details (clients never provide enough info, especially the rich ones), plan your schedule, budget and equipment accordingly (it often falls short thanks to their unreasonable demands), finally carry out the commission (it often turns out to be far more frustrating and time consuming than you anticipated), get angry when the client stubbornly refuses to cough up the original sum of mora (this thankfully doesn’t happen as much), nurse your wounds (ouch) and worry nonstop about any sudden emergencies (what if you get injured? What’s going to happen when you get old?) You sometimes wish you listened to your family and became a scholar instead.

Anyway, you’re currently locked in a bitter battle with a rank one (1) asshole, so maybe you just have an unreasonably short fuse right now.

Some days past an old, rich Fontainian posted a commission at the Liyue branch of the Adventurers guild. And you were lucky enough to snag it. It was a stroke of sheer fortune, quite literally, too- if you could meet the client’s demands, you’d end up with a completely inane amount of mora. You planned on doing this mission solo- after all, any expenses incurred would be more than covered by the heaps of mora you’d be swimming in soon enough.

But some conniving liar told Katheryne you’d agreed to pair up with him- and she believed him before you could confirm it, so now you’re officially partners… which means you’re forced to share the spoils.

You’re so tempted to drop the commission altogether, but-

“But that’s what he wants,” you hiss, hiking up the trail along the beautiful mountains of Jueyun Karst. Normally this would be a soothing trip- Jueyun Karst is so glorious you sometimes wonder if the gods picked a random mortal’s preferences to model it after (yours), but today you saw only the bad, like the still smoking fires left behind by some careless brigands, and a dead mouse. You consider bringing it back to Changsheng as a twisted joke- no, she’d paralyse you. Best to focus on the task at hand. You go over the details.

The commission was vague (rich, old man), although a bit sad (old man). If you really did find what he want though (unlikely, vague request, but if partially fulfilled, you get half the mora) you wouldn’t have to work at all for perhaps the next six months (rich man).

Apparently, a long, long time ago, the rich old man saw a beautiful apparition in the form of a woman. Lost in the foggy mountains on a rainy day, he saw her seated on a tree nestled deep somewhere in Jueyun Karst. She apparently rescued his life, by appearing on a different tree each time he got too close, leading him out the valley. When he asked for her name, she responded with a mere scoff, then vanished for good.

You’re pretty sure that’s either bull or some ghost. Sounded disturbingly like an Inazuman tale you heard once. Either way, she doesn’t exactly sound like a normal person.

And he wants you to find her.

How are you even supposed to do that? The old man is decrepit, according to Katheryne, who (bless her bionic heart) tried her damnedest to convince him it was something out of the ordinary, and that he should give up. You agree with her- you’re pretty sure it was either a ghost (no finding it), an adeptus (no finding them) or an actual mortal woman (Xiao’s influencing you too much. You could’ve just said woman. Also, if it really was just a woman, which she wasn’t, she’s probably dead by now.)

But you didn’t really have the heart to tell the old man that. Or maybe you got a little greedy. But hey, he can afford it! And you just might end up end up giving his broken heart some closure, right?

You figure you’ll ask around, look for the grave. So far you’ve had no leads, besides some blue haired kid (with the ugliest haircut, you think, then feel bad for thinking that of a kid) lying to your face in an attempt to prank you. It’s so strange, because you’re pretty sure you’ve seen her-? Him? With someone important, in silks and brocade. You just can’t remember who… but you digress.

You’ve checked everywhere you could think of in the past two, almost three weeks. Nothing. You’ve even been to Mingyun Village- again, nothing. Right up until a child in Qingce told you she saw a similar pretty woman, on a tree in Jueyun Karst. Really.

You’ve spent days in Jueyun Karst, craning your neck and nearly stumbling down mountain slopes, eyes throbbing from the light, spine burning. But nothing. You considered taking the easy way out and telling him it was Cloud Retainer, but you’re an adventurer with morals and besides, anyone who’s met her knows she never stops talking. But on the subject of your quarry, why did that bitch find a nondescript tree to sit in every time? Was it so hard to just go sit on the big, glowy one?

“Old hag,” you mutter. Your calves feel about as solid as almond tofu right now, and your brain just as smooth. You have no idea how you’re going to do this, but. The mora.

You glance at the note Katheryne gave you. It told you just a few things- a dark haired woman in a tree, with hair that fluttered like downy feathers in the wind (poetic old man. Also rich, you remind yourself), pale, in a tree, nothing more.

You sigh.

At least Jueyun Karst is pretty at night.

And comfortable enough to camp in, you figure. Granted, there’s some treasure hoarders and monsters, but it is the abode of the adepti after all.

You shrug, and trudge upward along the winding paths. Darkness is gathering, but your eyes adjust.

Eventually, the lingering shadows cease to lengthen and melt into the darkness enveloping the mountain as a whole. You’re disconcerted as you start to make camp in a copse, but reassured by the small blaze you’ve lit to warm yourself at some distance.

Upon making camp, you settle down on the grass with a snack. The wind rustles through your little copse and you see the moon emerge, denuding its robe of clouds. Silvery fingertips trail across the land, painting, muting Jueyun Karst beneath its touch.

It’s peaceful, yet haunting.

What’s more haunting though, is the soft, yet somehow piercing, keening cry that wafts through the air.

It’s slow at first, just a trilling hum that gets clearer and higher with every moment before lilting and fading away.

You blink. You’ve never heard such a sound before. Is it a musical instrument? A bird of some sort?

You hear it again. It doesn’t start slowly this time- it’s high, all at once, then a low humming before rising in a wail once more. It sounds like music. It sounds like weeping. And for some inexplicable reason, you feel your chest tighten and feel hollow, all at once.

This is a bad idea, you tell yourself as you scrabble to put out the fire. You remind yourself of the same once more as you pack all your things (after you just made camp, too), fingers trembling, dropping things. Perhaps this is it, the maiden you were looking for.

You sling the bag across your bag with a force that makes you stumble, then start making your way up the hill.

Maybe this really is it, you think. In the distance you see tiny glows, nestled away across the vale. Probably treasure hoarders. For some reason, your heart aches.

It feels like you’ve been sitting stagnant for too long. Everything around you has grown. When you pull your hand up to wipe away a tear, you see it shrouded in spiderwebs. They reach past your ribs, to your elbow, to the rest of you. Force their way gently into your mouth, into your ears. They’re in your nostrils. You cannot breathe.

Arriving near the source of the sound, you sit onto the grass for a moment, to rest. The webs are swaying, scratching uncomfortably across all of you. Tightening and loosening and tangling, keeping you in place. You cannot move.

You’ll cut yourself.

Get a grip. Oh, Morax.

There’s a lull in the cries and your head feels lighter all of a sudden. You blink, then start to get up- utterly nonplussed, what are you doing here-

A sobbing, recoiling cry abruptly sounds from before you, the maker contained away in the hurst right before you, overlooking the valley. The moon skips ahead, weaves between the clouds.

Steeling yourself, heart racing, you enter the thicket peek behind the tree and look up towards the sound.

It’s a… something. A mess of tattered wings and bloodied feathers and too many eyes. In the night they all look black and silver, but realisation hits you with the force of a thousand spears- this is Xiao.

It’s Xiao.

Keening, weeping, alone. Seated on a tree, cradled in its branches. Shielded by its crown. He’s crying.

He’s crying.

He sheds no tears in his avian form- large gold eyes turned to the moon, muscular neck lain limply across a branch. You see his throat move and his eyes shut- eyes that are still gold, even in the dark- as he lets out another cry.

You can see his back and tail- the rest is covered by multiple sprawling wings. They’re dark. Looking at them feels as though looking at a human bruise on an oil painting. Disconcerting. The smoke coming off them makes them smudge into the dark, become one with it.

He’s beautiful.

But he’s crying and you’ve never known you could feel such anguish at someone else’s grief. Pain, sure, but this is something eyes. Tears well in your eyes to compensate for his current form. One runs down your cheek and it snaps you to your senses- what are you doing, just standing around?

You step towards him, arms outstretched, his name on the tip of your tongue. Your mind’s a mess. Vaguely, you can tell there is something amiss. Voices slither inside your head, voices that don’t belong, filling it up with murmurs in a tongue you don’t understand. Full of vitriol, they ignite emotions within you you didn’t even know existed. Grief so intense you feel as though your heart really is bleeding into your chest. Fury so immense you can’t help but slam a palm into the trunk of the tree next to you and gasp. They twine and twist into shapes and colours you cannot see. For just a moment, you’re blinded, agony blooming across your body. You shudder, gasp.

Something is wrong.

Your vision turns hazy- you glance up to see the bird descend before you, wings magnificently spread, beak- no, mouth now- open, crying out in alarm. You collapse into his outstretched arms and it feels like too much and nothing all at once. Warm water- warm tears- fall onto your temple as your knees buckle. You feel vertigo when he instead has lowered you gently to the ground. Just as you faint, you see him- mouth open, gritted teeth, face damp with tears. You say his name- at least you try-

When you come to, you’re in Bubu Pharmacy.

You feel so unencumbered all at once- the flames across your skin extinguished, the voices silent, the webs gently spooled away. Thank Baizhu. And you can see again, see normally, blind once more to the auras and colours mortals mustn’t see- or perhaps you hallucinated it all.

The old man from the funeral parlour- Zhongli, you recall- is seated on a chair next to you. His posture is a little slack. Sitting up with some difficulty, you see that his eyes are shut. The harbour is silent.

You glance out the window only to see the cheerless night sky mirror the inky ocean below.

Oh no.

You cannot delay. What are you doing here? How long were you asleep? You’re wearing loose, white clothes- who changed you? No matter. You need to find Xiao, because he was crying and your lungs feel like they’re folding in on themselves, and by Morax, he’s probably all alone once more, and you’ve added to his pain by being foolish and interrupting him as he vents in a moment of catharsis-

You stumble out of bed and look around to gather your things, then decide to just come collect them later. You’ve no time to waste. You hear Zhongli inhale deeply as he suddenly awakens- why was this guy in here with you anyways- and quickly bolt, locking the door behind you as you do so.

Sorry, Mr. Zhongli.

You regret not taking his talks about Karmic debt as seriously as you should have. You’re not worried for yourself- you feel much better already (you lift your vision up to your heart. You’re beyond grateful- it’s the only gift the gods have ever given you, their only gift that matters) but Xiao must feel abominable guilt right now. You must reach him, tell him you’re fine, tell him it’s not your fault.

You’re halfway across the main bridge on the northern side of Liyue harbour when you realise it’ll take way too long to find Xiao like this. You could call out his name, of course, but you don’t want to accidentally make him teleport and exert himself in the middle of a breakdown.

You run your hand through your hair, almost pulling it out as you do and glare out at the sea. From the corner of your eye you see the Millelith guards standing by the gate shoot one another unnerved glances, then turn towards you. What’s their problem?

Now irritable, you make your way towards them to politely ask what the matter is- but they clutch one another in terror and immediately start shrieking. You yelp and duck, looking around frantically for the danger. The guards continue babbling and pointing, then screech again as you panic and frantically crawl towards them. Maybe you’re a bit more disoriented than you thought you were, because the only people you see on the bridge are you and the guards pointing at you- oh.

You stop crawling and look at them, pushing back the hair from your face as you stumble to your feet. The buffer guard has the smaller one planted firmly before himself like a shield. You sigh and they squeak. Then the bigger one cries out-

“Adeptus Xiao!”

This bitch. You probably are delirious because by now you’ve lost any semblance of self control and feel nothing but fury. Xiao’s going through something right now! You’re not a ghost! Isn’t this supposed to be an era of mortals?

“COWARDS!” You howl, launching yourself at the duo and throw aside the shorter guard with a strength you didn’t know you possessed. Before you can grab the bigger one and clamp his lips shut with your bare fingernails, however, you feel slender, firm arms wrap around your waist and tug you gently back against a warm torso.

Xiao’s long, elaborate sleeve drapes over your front as he holds you. You feel his breath against your neck. You’re immediately consumed by worry so potent you can barely recall what you were even angry about. He leans into you a little and you press your palm against his cheek.

He seems exhausted.

✦—————————————✦

You ended up taking Xiao home that night- or was it morning? You wish you knew. All you do know is that he slumped against you and you half walked, half dragged him home, providing no explanation to the Millelith guards (they didn’t demand one either.)

Xiao drowsed off as soon as you got home and once you’ve sufficiently fussed over him, cocooned him in layers upon of blankets (it’s cold out) and put copious amounts of snacks and water on the bedside table, you make your way over to the couch and crash out.

Just in case.

Sleep takes you easily, pushing past your desperate, incoherent rambles, bringing your body some much needed rest. You awaken when you feel the sun jab rudely at your eyes with its bright, unswerving fingers.

It’s nearly afternoon.

You push yourself up slowly till you’re seated, checking for tiredness or any injuries. None. You’re positive this time- you’re in your right senses.

Your face flushes when you recall what happened yesterday. Or was it today? No matter. Praying to never see those guards again, you slide off the couch and make your way towards your bedroom.

Xiao’s upright, alert and giving his ungloved hands a glare so severe you nearly flinch. When he turns towards you, though, his eyes soften to a degree that might make one doubt him even capable of anger. You can’t help but mirror his softness.

You can’t help feeling a bit downcast, however, and you suspect it shows. Racking your brains for something- anything- to say, you part your lips, but only end up exhaling. You’re having trouble meeting his eyes. You suspect he feels the same.

You stand at the threshold for several moments before finally making your way in, and Xiao’s off the bed in an instant. You feel hands grip your heart and twist when he moves wordlessly across the room, away from you, gesturing towards the bed.

You hate it.

Xiao lives in terror of losing his loved ones- paranoia makes him check in on them from afar, gift amulets, slay any evil that might hurt them. Scores of times he’s caught you before you fell, warned you of danger, reminded you to take care of yourself before you even noticed something amiss.

You know him keeping his distance is him ensuring your safety. Him showing you he cares. It serves only to heighten your anguish.

This has been among your worst fears since the moment you began to care for him- that he’d consider himself a danger to someone he loves.

“Xiao,” you whisper, and your voice wavers more than you wanted to, is softer than you intended. He meets your eyes at that, finally, finally and your chest constricts at his wary gaze. You’re tempted to make light of it- tell him you’re fine, banter a little- but you know that’ll only leave him with a heavier heart, wondering when he’d hurt someone next. You need to address this now, for his sake.

“Hey.” You smile. Good, your voice didn’t waver this time. “Are you…” You trail off. How do you even begin to talk about this?

This isn’t awkward, this is a minefield, except it’ll blow up in his face if you mess up somehow. Your heart quickens.

You try to calm yourself. What does Baizhu say? Don’t borrow anxiety from the future? The future is in motion right now, Baizhu! Useless man.

“I’m sorry.”

You blink rapidly, nonplussed. “What—”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, in a tone so repentant you almost respond with a hurried ‘it’s okay’ despite him having done nothing wrong. Despite it all, a tiny laugh bubbles up in your chest.

Baizhu, that silly old man (he’s your age). You suppose he is right sometimes. (Always.)

You’ve both lived too long, have survived too much to worry about something as small as this. Sure, in a vacuum, it is scary- but truth be told you feel fine- in fact you think you have an even better understanding now of the agony that has become his everyday, that he has endured for eons. This is something you can fix.

You smile and make your way towards Xiao, draw him into your embrace. He makes a quiet sound of protest that’s promptly muffled by you pushing his head affectionately into your shoulder. He exhales, then kisses it and remains in your arms but makes no move to wrap you in his.

That’s fine. You exhale . Xiao feels your breath waft over his ear, your warm, chapped lips as they brush over his face, landing tiny kisses. Your heart continues beating.

You’re there, right with him. Safe. Alive. Alright.

You sway gently, just holding him until eventually he places his palms on your waist and draws you a bit closer, ever so gently. As though you were the soft, powdery wings of a tiny butterfly in the dry summer months.

Before he can apologise- you do. You’re composed at first when you murmur an apology and explain how you came across him- but quickly become teary eyed when you recall how he looked up in that tree, mourning, all alone. His heart hurts. He hates seeing you cry, hates that he caused it- but he finds it difficult to dwell on anything else but the fact that you saw his monstrous, contaminated form and thought him beautiful. That you instantly wanted to hold him close. He feels dizzy.

“And,” you continue, sniffling, “I couldn’t think of anything else. I just felt overwhelmed. I just wanted to- to comfort you.” You’re not going to mention the voices and the pain. Maybe in a few decades. Maybe on your deathbed when it won’t matter anyway. You hear Baizhu’s ‘tsk tsk’ in your head and some vague speech about trust and communication, but you don’t care enough about that right now.

“And then I fainted.” You shrug. “Then I’m guessing you brought me to Baizhu? But I’m so sorry. It’s not your fault at all. I should’ve known to be more careful-“

“Please don’t lie to me.” His voice is soft, strained. He wishes you’d tell him the truth. Was it that much worse? “Tell me what else happened. Did it hurt? Do you feel better now? I’m so-“

You clamp a hand over his mouth. “It’s not your fault!” You protest. “What if some Inazuman wrestler guy threw me at you and you broke your arm, that wouldn’t be my fault- shh don’t interrupt me.” You put your other palm over the first and he exhales, warm breath wafting over your knuckles. You feel calmer already. The wonders of Xiao’s hugs never cease to impress.

“And… yeah, it hurt a bit. There were voices in my head.” He looks stricken. You consider making a garbage joke to cheer him up, but remember you were trying to be a mature adult and sigh. “My body hurt, too. Is that what it’s like for you? All the time?”

He hesitates, but nods with a sigh. “I’ve had centuries to get used to it, however.” You wait for him to draw you even closer, but he’s just looking, taking in your features. He looks as though he’s reassuring himself but not with much relief in sight.

You draw closer on your own instead, with a snort. “It all happened so fast, though. And it… it sucked honestly, even if it was just a couple of minutes. I’m sorry it’s like that for you every day.”

“It lessens with good company.” He finally looks relieved- apparently enough to even jest a little. “Which is likely why it worsens with you.”

You gasp in mock outrage. Maybe Baizhu was right about this whole communication thing. This is going well so far- or maybe not, because the next thing to come gently out Xiao’s mouth is a request to not approach him if he’s having a breakdown henceforth.

“Sorry, no can do. Nuh-uh.”

You swear you see question marks form over his head. “This is not a ‘nuh-uh’ situation, (Name). You could die or develop chronic health issues.” He frowns. “I don’t think-“

“I grasp the gravity of this situation,” you retort, a bit frustrated too. “I’ll stay away if I see or sense the Karmic debt- I will make some other adeptus come to you, though-“

“You cannot make the adep-“

“I will.“

He sighs.

“And,” you continue, “I’ll keep an eye. From afar, but I’ll keep an eye on you and wait for it to be over, before I can come to you again. And if you’re ever sad in a more ordinary sort of way, I will not leave your side, no matter what.” You press your forehead to his with a quiet sigh. “Because I love you. And it hurts when you’re in pain.”

There’s a pause, with neither of you moving. You hear a group of teenagers laugh outside and run past the house. You wonder if that blue haired brat from earlier is with them.

Xiao exhales, then finally (FINALLY!) wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, impossibly so. You rest your cheek against his as he gives you a rueful smile. You’ve won! Ah no, what was it Baizhu said? There’s no individual victor in relationships? Damn, you’re a good student.

But seeing Xiao so close once more… you’re certain you’ve won regardless.

✦—————————————✦

The next couple of hours are spent relaxing, unwinding and examining one another for injuries (this is why you’re perfect together. Mutual respect? Mutual affection? Yes, but also mutual anxiety). A worried Baizhu also comes to pay a visit. He’s angry about you vanishing without notice but cools off quickly as you and Xiao assuage his worries. Changsheng is not so easily mollified and turns even more furious upon being called an ‘angry little noodle’ by you.

Come noon, you and Xiao make your way to Wanmin- neither of you are in much of a mood to cook.

Besides, your consolations have worked wonders and Xiao looks considerably calmer than he did in the morning. Not exactly cheerful, but a happy display is a rarity even on the best of days, so you acquiesce. He’s still careful and is being extra-gentle with you, but you’re glad he’s not blaming himself for not noticing you sooner anymore.

Unbeknownst to you, though, his eyes are on you constantly. Truth be told, he’s only really agreed to dine out in order to observe your movements, reactions to light and the crowd to check for any lingering effects of his Karma. You’ve decimated his morbid expectations though (much to his immense relief)- cheerier than ever, you buy bread and meat for any stray animals you come across, happily greet the friends you bump into and tilt your face upwards to bemusedly watch the clouds form increasingly obscene shapes (what are you up to, Retainer?)

He's a little stunned at how quickly everything happened- he expected his culpability to haunt him for much longer and feels guilty for getting over it so fast. It’s not that he doesn’t care- you matter to him more than anything in Liyue and were anything to actually happen to you because of him, he would truly would have lost the strength he used to cling to his brittle life.

It's just… a bit absurd. You haven’t raised a fuss at all about yourself, besides complaining a little initially. You comforted him instead, and were confused when he tried to reciprocate because “it happened, but it’s over. It’s not your fault and I really am okay now.” You seem to have meant it when you told him it was a terrible but distant memory. In your defence, the ordeal did take only a couple of minutes before he teleported you abruptly to Bubu Pharmacy (he still owes Baizhu an apology for dropping a whole human being into his arms and bolting).

So he allows himself to relax (the voices in his head tell him to split himself on his spear. He hurt you once, he’ll do it again. He imagines you screaming at them to piss off and ends up smiling softly instead).

He shakes his head when you ask what he’s amused about, bright eyed and curious and he gives you the fondest of expressions when you glance away and up at Katheryne. Xiangling teasingly gags at him from behind you, then yelps and runs into the kitchens to dodge Shenhe’s glares.

Xiao wishes you picked a table in the back- the Adventurer’s Guild is plainly visible from where you’re seated and something up there clearly has you distracted. No matter. At least now he can take you in without interruptions.

You look invested- eyes narrowing with amusement first, then further to slits with annoyance. Startled, he turns to see exactly what evoked such disdain from you, and his eyes meet that of a dark haired man, presently engaged in conversation with an elderly gentleman dressed in Fontaine’s fashions. Maybe. Those shoes aren’t fashionable anywhere, he’s pretty sure. Menogias would’ve wept.

The man that’s earned your ire happens to appear quite exquisite by mortal standards- handsome and tall and- Xiao shoots you a hurried glance. Yes, that’s anger, thank the skies-

“You see that guy over there?” You bring the glass to your lips for a sip before lowering it with more force than is necessary. “He’s the jerk I told you about. The one who’s stealing half my commission.”

Xiao blinks. “But he hasn’t found anyone according to the description, has he?”

You frown. “Obviously not. If she really did- hm?”

He turns in his chair to see Katheryne and the men approach- one barrel chested and tall, the other slight and elderly, shuffling along with the pace and gait of a caterpillar. When they get a bit closer, however, the old man stiffens, then breaks into a rapid hobble, before pausing right before Xiao and bursting into tears.

What the- this is fine. He’s not too close. Xiao is still and wide eyed like a startled deer. You bite back the urge to kiss his face all over, then fight the momentary urge to punt the old man as he reaches out to touch Xiao’s face, still bawling. Xiao jerks and stands. The man turns to you as you grab his arm and try to gently sooth him, smacking you away.

“Oh,” he blubbers. “So many nights you’ve haunted my dreams. How I’ve waited all these years. I knew- I knew-“ he coughs, vehemently shakes his fist to keep the rest of you away. “Don’t come closer! I know her- that’s the love of my life!”

Mortals.

The lovely maiden in a tree being Xiao did not surprise you in the slightest. It was a bit startling but you feel incredibly foolish for not connecting the dots earlier.

Pretty maiden up in a tree.

“Really, who else could it be?” You bite into the muffin you bought on the way home.

“Xi- Cloud Retainer.”

“Oh. Is she pretty?”

Xiao tilts his head. He’s adorable. You resist the urge to haul him back down the road for another meal- what a miserable date, that was.

After finally catching Xiao the old man first wept into his chest (he reminded you of an unused hair tie with how scrunched up and tiny he was. The old man, to be clear, not Xiao. Xiao is tiny bit firm), then clasped his clawed hands within his own soft, wrinkly ones (you’re glad Xiao didn’t forget his gloves and you can tell he’s even gladder) and begged Xiao to go with him to Fontaine.

Xiao’s answer being an alarmed, emphatic ‘no’ only succeeded in making the man cling tighter and cry harder.

You did start feeling terrible for the poor guy by that point, so you gave him a handkerchief and some water, sat him down and once he was finally calm and lucid, you explained to him that this was not the maiden he saw all those years ago, but in fact, your beloved.

Your kindness evaporated fast though when he smacked you in the face with your own hankie and swore to never pay you your commission. You left to eat elsewhere at that point. That sounded like a problem for your (rather distressed) ‘partner.’

Presently, though, you’re waiting for Xiao to tell you more about Cloud Retainer. You’ve surmised two things from his slip ups; she lives in the harbour nowadays, and her name starts with “Sh.”

You’re honestly convinced it’s Shenhe, and even more so when Xiao tells you she’s more imposing than pretty. When you tell him your guess, though, he gives an uncharacteristic laugh, so bright and warm. You want to store it in a bottle to sip it on the cold days.

When you tell him so upon reaching home, he just laughs again (!) and kisses your entwined hands. He prays you won't let go.

#xiao x reader #genshin xiao x reader #x reader #xiao x gn reader #xiao #entwined #slight angst #but then #fluff #xiao fluff #iratempestatis #bird xiao but a liiiitle monstrous #i hc his bird form can either be fat finch or #a lovely regal eagle. think ellona from afkj #or The Creature #i love both the hmc book and movie can you tell

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theallianceofcelestials · 2 days ago

Note

A big what if scenario for SEA!AU ; but how would KC and the rest of the family react to Eclipse somehow getting turned into a child / baby for a few hours / days?

You just opened a can of worms friend. I'll just use a similar format as to what I used with the WN and SEA characters meeting.

More under, because this is a bit long, and I should have done this last time too

The only way he can turn into a kid is obviously with some SCP shenanigans, though I'll admit I haven't done my research and don't know if there's any SCPs able to turn people into children (though with how many of them exist, I wouldn't be surprised) But even if there is one, he's an animatronic so it'd probably work differently.

Let's just say there're 2 scenarios, one where it's just a childified body his adult self is in, and one where he's both child sized and acts like one too with no memories of his adult life.

In the first scenarion he'd be very annoyed and angry. He's also try hiding probably once he realises the "danger" he's in. He does not want to be a plush toy.

Killcode

First scenario

The moment he sees his grumpy animatronic son in the child body, most likely after having searched the facility for him because he did not come back for dinner and he didn't mention any work related stuff that might take a bit, it'd be over immediately. There'd be no way you can get him off of Eclipse.

He'd always want to cuddle him, keep him close, and maybe tease him lightly over getting turned into a child. It's his right as a father, and if he's shouted at more than not, then he's just going to have to keep his laughter in more.

He'd mostly do this to cover up his worry, because this is his most fragile kid turned even more fragile. Eclipse is not known already in their family as a fighter, more a runner, but with those stubby short legs how is he going to get away from danger? He obviously can't let his kid leave his sight, otherwise he may die. He hopes the Foundation is working on a solution already, because if not there'll be hell to pay.

He'd be unwilling to let his kid out of his sight like this, going into full on helicopter mode. He'd insist Eclipse stay on his shoulder at the very least if he doesn't want cuddles, and he'd be reluctant to give him up even to their family. It's the I'm-the-parent-of-small-child instincts, and they've revived with a vengance he didn't experience even when his kids were young. Probably because his kids were always hardier.

Second scenario

In this scenarion the panicking scientist he was working with would probably call Killcode in, because he's becoming a personnel member anyway, and because they fear if they didn't, and tried to hide this, they'd all be brutally murdered. They're all correct obviously.

The child Eclipse, with no memories of his life, wouldn't know who or what Killcode is, only that he's been told he's his dad. Perhaps his daycare programming would tell him information about these things, so he'd know what a dad is. He'd just light up at the sight of his papa, happily reaching out in what his code knows is normal behaviour for children. It'd actually be kinda funky if he immitated how a human child would act with their parent based on what his programming tells him is normal.

Killcode, obviously, wouldn't know how to react. On one hand, that's his kid, on the other, he finds this whole thing unnatural. Kinda uncanny valley. He'd also be pretty scared his child was deleted and thus basically murdered. It gets proven wrong thankfully when Eclipse starts babbling about stuff only his adult version would know, like how he wants to go back to their room and play with everyone, and can they pleasee have lava cake today? It'd greatly calm KC, who'd go into indulgent dad mode.

He'd still be constantly cuddling, but he'd be much softer. He'd take this as his chance to make up for the time they weren't together, because maybe if they can make nice memories for Eclipse in this young stage of him, his past wouldn't hurt that much.

He'd obviously be overprotective, happiest when he can cuddle this toddler version of his child, and he'd fold to the faded-gold optics whenever they widen and make more sweets than he ever did. He'd be humming sillier songs when he cooks, watching the child toddling around happily, without a clue to the dangers and horrors he's faced.

He'd absolutely melt when Eclipse calls him papa, or when the little one pounces on his legs because his paws are funny, he'd sit on the floor all day sometimes just helping Eclipse build something out of legos, read him bedtime stories, and just fall asleep on the couch while Eclipse is in his lap.

Solar Flare

First scenario

Seeing its big brother so small and adorable looking would make its perpetual expression into the happy little smiling squints it's able to do. They're just so happy to see their big brother like this.

He'd obviously ask Killcode to cuddle his brother plenty of times, but'd make a bunch of drawings of Eclipse sitting grumpily on Killcode's shoulders. The wall would be filled with all of them, and Eclipse can't even be mad at it properly.

Whenever it wants to dance though Eclipse would deny it. He's just unwilling to embarrass himself even more than he already is. Solar Flare would be sad over that, and would want this to be over with soon. He wants to go back to hanging out with its big brother like usual.

Second scenario

The toddler version of its brother would have its heart in a tight-fist clench in seconds, and there's no stopping it. Even if it's a bit confused on who's the big brother anymore. The kid is still trying to fit that older sibling place, but because he's just a toddler it's... a bit questionable.

They'd draw lots together, do silly dances and Eclipse, despite their spikes, would happily climb onto their back and point it in directions to go in. It'd obviously comply, quickly finding amusement in being the horsey once they get over their fear of him stabbing himself on his spikes.

The two of them would also become very 'judgy' about their siblings, playfully poking at them together. Because of the toddler, Solar Flare can get away with playfully bullying its other brothers, who have to grit their teeth so the baby doesn't cry.

Bloodmoon

First scenario

They'd laugh their asses off. No question in that. They'd also be unbearingly overprotective, no question about that either.

They would curl up around Eclipse, despite him hissing and grumbling at them to leave him alone, surrounding him with safety and warmth. It doesn't sit well with them to see him so small, especially when the child body's battery is smaller and he just generally gets more tired easier. But seeing him plug in to charge more would be a torture. But seeing him yawning more would be funny.

They're also barred from dancing with him, which makes them slightly annoyed but they suck it up, mostly able to play Scrabble with him. Which is fun, don't get them wrong, but they're more physically inclined creatures.

The funniness of it would just wear off after some point and leave them with loads of anxiety, because he still wants to do dangerous things, but his body just doesn't allow for that anymore. They'd be freaking out by day two

Second scenario

Blasted SCPs! They're the eldests again!

Bloody would feel terribly shaky with their big brother being a toddler, even more unsure than ever, because now they're adults and Eclipse is soft compared to them. He'd be freaking out. Rusty wouldn't be so obvious, but he too is scared of screwing up.

Eclipse wants to do stuff with them though. He remembers playing Scrabbles with them, but now he finds it boring which'd panic the twins. He also doesn't like horror anymore, crying at the more grusome scenes, so watching movies/playing games they did before is out too. All that's left is dancing too, which they'd be happy to do, watching stuff like Jurassic park where they root for the dinos, and playing tag.

They're a bit rusty (haha) at this whole child appropriate thing, especially because they were kids themselves when their siblings were kids, but they'll try their best.

They play tag with Eclipse, play hide and seek with him too, pretending not to see/hear the little toddler. They'd be absolutely down to play horsey, get into tickle fights and just generally have fun.

They'd jump on top of the shelves near the ceiling of the room, leaving the tot up there, and playfully threatening to keep him there if he doesn't behave. They'd also throw him in the air a lot, and give him playful shakes whenever they're holding him.

They'd feel kind of nostalgic over it, despite never having interacted with children before as an adult.

Lunar

First scenario

He's laighing. Eclipse is struggling with life in general, and he's laughing.

He'd bully him so much about his height its unreal. All the shortie jokes that he has to deal with. He'd be epecially insufferable if he was taller too.

He's consequently be basically ignored by Eclipse thus, who would be a sore loser about this. Because he didn't sign up to be made fun of. (he obviously ignores all the times he calls Lunar a midget, those don't count because he is, while Eclipse is just an unlucky bastart)

Lunar would be busy laughing his ass off to truly realise how uncomfortable he actually feels about this all. He'd sometimes wake up in the night though, wishing to snuggle into a silicone chest, only to remember his big brother is small now. He wouldn't admit how much that bothers him though

Second scenario

He's uncomfortable. Very, very uncomfortable. He doesn't know how to handle not being the youngest anymore. Even if only temporarily.

He'd be the most withdrawn because of it in the beginning, only to feel horrible at the obvious hurt in the toddler's optics. He'd fold before long eventually, but only because he misses his big brother.

He finds he doesn't much mind the kid, maybe even has fun with him, even if they do have to play less or even different games to their usual. They can't exactly play scary games when the tot freaks out over it. So they'd play more stuff like Mario Kart and what not, even if Eclipse's coordination like this is not the best. Lunar has to throw a lot so he doesn't end up with a crying toddler next to him. He wouldn't mind it all that much as he gets into it, happily losing a couple times so the kid can be happy too.

He'd miss his older brother tho. He gets it the others are having fun with the toddlerified Eclipse, but he personally misses the Eclipse who's confident, smart and doesn't freak out over jumpscares. He's kind of sad about him not being there anymore. Even if only temporarily, Lunar doesn't like being an older brother, Feels wrong to him.

Sun

First scenario

He'd be having the time of his life pretending his nephew is an actual child. After Killcode he's the worst offender of cuddles.

He'd just hug Eclipse to himself, ignoring the angry mumbling and escape attempts. He'd however also make sure Eclipse knows he's just messing with him. He doesn't actually want there to be any bad blood between them.

He'd probably keep his cats away from him like this, unsure how they'd react. It's an amusing attempt when all they want is to snuggle to the snuggle-sized Eclipse. They'd absolutely bully him

Second scenario

He'd melt. And he'd go into full uncle mode.

He'd be doing arts'n'crafts constantly with the kid, snatch him playfully off the ground to nuzzle, and make loads of pancakes. He'd also have fun knitting clothes for the child, making a full winter get up with the mittens, oversized scarf and big sweated and cutesy hat.

He'd be careful when introducing him to the cats, making loads of pictures of them snuggling on the couch and bed. He'd be absolutely delighted to have Eclipse toddle after him curiously, and he'd ring his bells for him just to get his attention.

He'd be all into reading stories for him too, making all the silly voices he can. He'd also sew a plushy probably, maybe a little kitty to match the little Eclipse, squealing in delight when he brings it with him to everywhere.

He'd be doing fun bathtime routines too, making extensive bubble baths so the toddler can have all the fun. One night he'd just show up with a bunch of bathtime toys, and no one dares question him.

They'd also make a solar bot club with Solar Flare, and Sun'd teach the toddler Eclipse (whose normal, adult version taught Sun) how to make friendship bracelets, so all the club members match.

He'd probably almost fistfight Killcode too over who gets to snuggle when. He barely holds himself back, because that is still his brother's kid.

Moon

First scenario

After having a good laugh, he'd immediately start looking for a cure. Eclipse appreciates this, and would probably try sticking to him the most despite how he also makes fun of him extensively. In Eclipse's opinion, that's still better than all the coddling. That's just kinda the norm for Moon.

He'd try to act less jerkish though, simply because he's not immune to the size no matter what he tells himself. It's just his touch averse nature keeping him from actually cuddling. He'd probably do more heatpats, which he'd disguise as condescending so Eclipse doesn't realise he finds him adorable too

Second scenario

He'd keep away, afraid he'd fuck up somehow. This obviously wouldn't go down well with the tot, who does remember his uncle Moonie doesn't like tocuhes, but his programming is telling him to at least sometimes give him a hug because that's what you do with uncles. Moon would obviously fold eventually.

He'd allow the occasional hug, but'd still make it pretty clear it's only good if it's allowed touch. Instead of all the physical touches, he'd opt for quality time and gifts.

He'd teach the kid how to build things, proud when the skills he got as an adults kinda shine through. They'd build stuff from all sorts of things, from legos, from building blocks, from jenga and etc. He'd also get one of this for kids mini robots that you have to build yourself and can practice programming on. He'd also let the kid 'make' a video game, which would just be him sitting in Moon's lap and telling him what to do.

He'd also unwillingly go into naptime mode, reading bedtime stories so he falls asleep, singing lullabies when it's just the two of them, and even rocking him occasionally when he feels comfortable with a bit more touch. Because of this Eclipse would go to him whenever he feels tired during the day. He'd then curl up next to Moon, or even in his lap, while his uncle reads him a story and pats him like a kitty.

He'd be especially happy with all the ray skritches Moon can do, sometimes being annoying on puprose so his uncle will shut him up by going for his rays to make him sleep. Moon would be irritated by how he's outsmarted by a toddler each time.

He'd also take it upon himself to make him learn stuff, unwilling to let his knowledge maniac nephew sit idle. Eclipse enjoys these lessons, bringing notebooks he can scribble into. His notes though would be half badly spelled words and half drawings. Moon will never admit he finds it adorable.

After he's back in his normal body in the first scenario he's pretty mad and humiliated, and would be withdrawn and angry for a couple days. Lots of groveling would be needed to make him forgive people.

The second scenario would also end with him embarrassed in the end, but he's feel pretty touched by all the things they did for him. He doesn't want a repeat though

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lightlycareless · 3 days ago

Text

I finally got it out of my system but omg you do not know how much it took me to write this, like??? I wanted but words simply did not come out. I feel burnt outtttttt :( it must be stress.

Anyways, I still hope you enjoy it.

warnings: none. fluff. you have a baby girl with naoya but what's new? and before anyone comes for me he is REFORMED hahahahah 🙈🙈🙈

Happy reading!

Imagine your and Naomi’s first slumber party. Obviously, everything you do with her is special, your highlight of the day, but this particular event stood out from the rest.

Firstly, because you got to see your adorable baby’s reaction to things she’s never seen before, or more like try out such as manicures, pedicures, make-up, and her favorite: press on nails.

The endless possibilities with such when it comes to designs are enough to keep Naomi thrilled, though she always goes with Hello Kitty.

And secondly, because of a surprise you have prepared for the end of the night; but for now…

“Mama, I want that one please!!” she gasped enthusiastically, not wanting to miss the opportunity to decorate her nails with her beloved cat. “Please mama!!”

“Of course, dumpling. I got them solely for you!” You grin, glad to see your baby having a good time.

“Can you also do my make up?” she quietly asks, as if afraid you’d tell her no. When in reality you had long prepared for this request; it was no secret to you how fascinated Naomi was with you whenever getting ready, rushing to your side as soon as you approached the vanity table so she could see all the magic that entailed makeup.

Luckily, that mystery was to end now.

“Do I look pretty like you mama?” Naomi asks, causing you to coo.

“Oh, even prettier!” you gush, taking her into your arms and kissing her flushed cheeks.

“No mama, you’re pretty!” she counters. “Like a princess!”

“Stop it, mochi. You’re going to make me cry…”

“No crying, only smiles!” Naomi insisted, making you giggle.

“Alright, I won’t cry. Now, do you want to do my makeup?”

Naomi gasps.

“Can I??”

“Of course! It’s what you do in slumber parties!”

Naomi undoubtedly has the time of her life trying out all the things she always wanted to do with your makeup, careless of her inexperience, if she knew which colors matched well with other or what would make your features stand out, because in her mind, she was already the best! Just as you continuously encouraged her.

From there, the rest of the night continued on by watching movies and eating your and her favorite snacks—mochi. Naomi was nothing short of a delighted ray of sunshine before these treats, giddily enjoying all of the things that’s she’s normally limited on: like endless snacks and of course, a child’s ultimate defiance! A thing that totally made her close to being a grown up…

Staying up past her bedtime.

However, your darling pumpkin, not being used to doing that, quickly succumbed to slumber just after the first movie ended, though it might be because her overexcitement for the whole ordeal exhausted her more than usual.

And while it wasn’t necessarily in your plans, the sight of her breathing peacefully underneath the warm covers made you smile, the natural response to a successful, fun night.

“She’s completely knocked out, isn’t she?” Mariya, who came in to check on you before eventually staying around after Naomi begged her to, noted. You giggle.

“Yeah, my poor baby, but sometimes it seems she’s unable to stop, you know?” you jest, gently caressing Naomi’s tummy. “She’s growing so fast; I wish she would stay small a little longer…”

“I think it might be time for the second one.” Mariya teases, you blush.

“Oh, shut up…” you murmur, she laughs.

“You’re not denying it.”

“I’ve thought about it, but… well, Naoya and I rarely have time to ourselves now that he’s of a higher rank, so I don’t know how that’s going to happen.” You lament.

“Hmmm… but it seems to me you always make the best out of it, don’t you? Naoya always leaves the estate with a smile that implies satisfaction, after all.” you turn bright red.

“Mariya!”

“I’m just teasing you, Y/N.” She smiles, you laugh along. “But now that we’re talking about it… I guess it doesn’t hurt to say that Naomi-chan sometimes asks me if she’s ever going to have a little brother or sister to play with.”

“Really?” you breathed, she nods.

“Yeah; it’s not frequent but, you know, she has her moments.” Mariya recounts, carefully one of Naomi’s hair locks behind her ear. Such a beautiful angel, she wonders if she’ll ever have her own.

“I’d like a boy.” You confess. “To have a set, as many say. Can you imagine? Another baby that looks just like Naoya! Though whatever we end up having is fine by me, really. To have a family is a blessing by itself.”

“And Naoya? Has he told you what he would like?”

“No, but I’m sure he’d like another girl, no matter how much he tries to deny it.” Because you’ve seen it through how gentle and doting he is with your baby.

How he’s always asking for her every time he’s away, not a single second is she out his mind… and with how Naomi calls for him too, constantly asking you if her papa is to return soon, because even to her videocalls and gifts are not enough to ease her unbearable yearning.

Oh, how you miss him.

Thankfully, your pleads would no longer continue unattended when a servant suddenly knocks on your door to brief you of the event you’ve been eagerly waiting for; immediately glancing at Mariya who gives you an encouraging nod in return, as if letting you know Naomi will be ok, before standing up and heading towards the exit.

To the arms of your melancholic husband whose face lights up as soon as his eyes land on you. A homesick man that was glad to finally be back home.

“Naoya! Oh, Naoya, you’re back.” You breathe, quick to embrace him and press your face against his chest, hiding your tears between his clothes.

Normally, he would’ve teased you for your reaction, make his best to cheer you up, but in the wake of months of absence, all Naoya could do is take your presence even deeper into his soul, hoping that he wouldn’t succumb to his own tears either as he tries to imprint your warmth, your scent, your love into his body to never forget.

“I missed you.” You confess, Naoya kisses the top of your head. “I can’t believe you’re here! It—it almost seems like a dream…!”

“I know. I can’t believe I’m here either, after so long…” Naoya responds, hugging you tighter. “But I am, and I missed you too, so much.”

“Please tell me you’re not leaving soon; you just came back.” You plead, looking up to him with that teary, dreadful look that always made his heart tighten.

More so if he knows he’s to disappoint you.

“I…Y/N—”

“No, you’re right. We don’t have to talk about that right now.” You shake your head, putting aside the sour thought of his departure for another time. Right now… “All that it matters is that you’re home. With us. With me.”

“Where’s Naomi? I wish to see her, if it’s not too late of course.” Naoya smiles, you giggle.

“Actually, there was something I was planning to do for you that involved her, but I think I failed.”

“Let me guess, you tried keeping her awake to see me?” He rightfully assesses, you nod.

“Yeah, I planned a whole slumber party to do so, but, well, you know how our baby is. She gets too excited and then, she passes out!”

Naoya laughs, his heart warming up at these small moments he missed dearly. Thankfully, he’s now able to partake in them once more.

“But she’ll still be excited to see you in the morning nonetheless.” You add before grabbing his hand and guiding him to your shared bedroom, where your precious angel slept. “Come now, I don’t want to keep you waiting any longer!”

And it takes great effort for Naoya to not cry at the sight of his baby girl soundly sleeping in his bed, though he is unable to resist joining her, carefully laying by her side as you joined him soon after, resting your face on his chest, where home is.

“You did her nails?” He notes at her small, clenched fist. Naoya wishes to hold it but decides against it in fear of waking her up.

“Yeah, do you like them?” you smile. “I did mine too—we can do yours later if you’d like.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Naoya smirks.

“I wholeheartedly believe you’d look good with black nails.” You affirm.

“No better than inside you.”

“Naoya!” you playfully smack him, a noise that inadvertently wakes up your small dumpling up.

“Ma…ma?” Naomi’s soft voice makes you and Naoya’s breath hitch to their throat, keeping still as she seems to appear unaware of her papa’s presence, as seen in the following question. “Is papa home yet…?”

To know that her first waking thought is to wonder about her father makes your heart soar, and unable to keep her in the dark any longer, you rush to give her the good news—

Only for Naoya to stop you, planning instead to unveil the surprise tomorrow morning, just when all the gifts he got for her were set to arrive.

A splendid moment to signify his official return he wishes to conduct perfectly, happy to finally be back home, in the presence of his two beloved.

His loving family Naoya would do anything in the world to protect.

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen

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galaxywhump · 8 months ago

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i would love to see daniel making what he feels like is a mistake with wren (similar to how he fucked up with wren getting attacked by the local wildlife in the beginning of the story). like he pushes wren too far without realizing it, or hurts him in a way he didn't intend to (like rope failure during suspension bondage). love to see wren suffering and i also love to see daniel feeling guilty so like. best of both worlds lol

[SV-240 masterlist]

contents: slavery whump, forced relationship, creepy/intimate whumper, defiant whumpee, suspension, dislocation.

~~~

“Uh, could you… check the ropes again? Something’s weird about the balance.”

“I know what I’m doing, sweetheart.”

“But-”

“Just trust me. Besides, just a few more pictures and we’ll be done, okay?”

Daniel snaps a picture. One of the knots in the elaborate ropework keeping Wren suspended snaps too.

It happens in a blink of an eye. Wren becomes certain that something is wrong with Daniel’s handiwork, that it wasn’t just his imagination, and in the next moment his body jolts downwards. If that was the end of it, it wouldn’t be bad - he’d just be a bit startled, he’d get to savor Daniel being proven wrong, but, unfortunately, he mostly did know what he was doing.

Wren’s right arm was still secured with rope, and when he shifted, it stayed in exactly the same position.

He sees stars. His scream of agony comes out as a strained gasp. His shoulder is on fire.

Daniel curses, sets his camera aside and rushes to start painstakingly undoing the knots while Wren hyperventilates, eyes wide, forehead lined with cold sweat.

"I told you!" he chokes out, close to sobbing. "I fucking told you and you didn't- Why the fuck didn't you believe me?!"

Daniel doesn't answer, focused on untying the ropes; Wren's shaky breathing is the only sound. When he's finally freed, the pain only gets worse when his shoulder shifts, and he can't stop tears from falling from his eyes. It hurts so much, a completely new pain. Daniel cradles him in his arms, petting his hair, and the look of remorse on his face is nowhere near as satisfying as it would be if Wren could think more clearly.

"I'm sorry," Daniel says, carefully laying his hand on Wren's injured shoulder, making him tense up and gasp. "Next time I'll make sure the ropes are secure."

"Next time?!" Wren cries. “My shoulder is-”

"I know, I know. And… I need to set it, so be still. Just trust me."

"Again?! You just fucking showed me why-"

Once again, he doesn't get to finish his sentence - with practiced confidence Daniel grabs his arm, lifts it up, and pulls, and Wren howls in agony feeling it pop back into place.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay now,” Daniel whispers, holding Wren close as he struggles to breathe. “You can rest.” He sighs, then the corners of his mouth rise in a playful smirk. ��First that animal, now this. I guess I’ll just ask Berkeley to bring me some new rope next time so there’s no more accidents, hm? I really am sorry, though. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“You didn’t learn shit,” Wren rasps, somehow mustering enough strength and clarity to glare at Daniel, who, much to his fury, laughs.

“See how quickly you bounce back? You’re stronger than you realize, sweetheart.”

Wren presses his lips tightly together and shakes his head. He’s not strong enough to fight back in a way that matters, not strong enough to escape. At the moment his strength seems completely meaningless to him, and he’s so tired of staying strong this way when Daniel only seems to find delight in it.

~~~

taglist: @faewhump @inky-whump @whole-and-apart-and-between @whatwasmyprevioususername @procrastinatingsab

@funky-little-glitter-bomb @goneuntil @redstainedsocks @luminouswhump @lonesome--hunter

@as-a-matter-of-whump @renkocchi @whump-only @muddy-swamp-bitch @girlwithacoolcat

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @sophierose002 @whump-headspace @to-whump-or-not-to-whump-blog @kixngiggles

@ohwhumpydays @whumpsical @wibbly-wobbly-whump @stab-the-son-of-a @his-unspoken-words

@pumpkin-spice-whump @onlyhappywhenitpains @suspicious-whumping-egg @morning-star-whump @burtlederp

@there-will-always-be-blood @springwhump

#slavery whump #forced relationship whump #creepy whumper #intimate whumper #defiant whumpee #dislocation whump #wren rackham #daniel rooney #sv-240 #my writing #this has been sitting in my drafts for ages #i was trying to find inspiration by going through my inbox and remembered it #love the concept anon!#i hope you like it even though it's pretty short #the doc name is 'oopsie' btw

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yardsards · 9 months ago

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i needed to express a sentiment in the creative stylings of @dunmeshiminimumwage

#eliot posts #dunme #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #sorry to put toshiro in the roll of shitty job interviewer lmao #but he was the best fit for ''guy that wants me to read their mind''#laios being my internal monologue here #i was on my THIRD interview of the day i was Dying #tho since the prev two interviews i had were for similar positions and told me their salaries outright at least i could use that number #(though tbh my work persona is more of a kabru. my customer service voice is unparalleled)#(at my first job even my coworkers thought i was sooo cheerful til i got too comfy and casually made a joke abt wanting to asphyxiate on a #plastic shopping bag like a sea turtle. in front of my sweet elderly coworker. oops!)#(also this job was during quarantine and after weeks of working together i took my mask off in front of one coworker for the first time #and she called like half the department over from their registers to look at how pretty i was??? prettyboy powers unmatched ig)#(also my first interview today went SO well i charmed that interviewer so good despite my lack of qualifications)#(she even complimented my social skills and said i seemed like the type who could get along well and make good conversation with anyone!)#(which is important bc i was interviewing for an elder care position. also old people especially tend to think i am a Delightful Young Lad)#(unless i accidentally make a morbid joke around them ig lmaooo. or. well. some of them like those too. but not that one coworker lol)#(if only that skill transferred over to actually making friends irl. my autistic ass has so few close irl connections)#(i hope my exceedingly short list of character references does not prevent me from getting hired)#AND ALSO my first job asked the same wage question and i said twelve dollars #and they were like all our new employees start at 7.75 #the union insists that we pay all new employees a whopping 50 cents above min wage. (we'd pay less if we could)#like dawg why did you ask that then??? if my answer did not matter at all???

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icewindandboringhorror · 8 months ago

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finally finished all of one character's entire quests/optional dialogue/questions/etc.... 100,000 words... .... aughhh

#Given some of it IS lines of code and stuff but like.. minus all that it's still probably at least 85 - 95k words hhhhhh #AND I have to do this for another 3 characters. Then a few partial quests for 3 others. THEN the other random misc stuff in the game #(like there are public areas in the city like a park and a forest that you can go and do a few things at. and chat with a few random #townsfolk that aren't actually full characters or anything. And there's a community board where you can #browse some of the random job advertisments or silly things that happen to be posted around #and also pick up a few odd jobs of your own to help earn coin to buy gifts for the npcs. etc. etc.)#Originally I was thinking like 'ah I'll make a short little game just to try it out! :3 It'll take maybe a few months!''#haha........................hee hee........................................hoho #Also evil that it would have been done already if I didn't totally drop itand stop working on it for like 5 years randomly #i could have made 5 years of steady slow progress gradually. instead of like 'one initial idea dump + about a month of art and writing'#...... 5 year break..... 'sudden mad dash to try to get probably 400.000 words written in a year or less' lol #I just really want to be done and have something out there already so it can lead to doing other things in my world..!!!!!! T o T #Like this can be an introduction and then maybe from that I can make other games. or short story anthologies. or other such things #But there needs to be some initially not very complex easy to interact with starting point first I guess... if that makes sense #That's part of why I stopped posting worldbuilding lore dump stuff as often because its' like.. massive walls of novella length #text are much more inacessible to engage with than like.. ooh a game! and there's characters! so its more approachable! and theres #visuals! oo! and the text is broken up in small bits line by line with other things in betwen! oo! etc. etc. lol #Not that THIS is even very accessible. I think dialogue heavy interactive fiction/visual novel type stuff is pretty niche and considered #boring or tedious compared to something with more ''gamplay'' like where you can actually move around in a world #and shoot things or whatever lol. But its an inbetween point. something SLIGHTLY #more accesible for now. Since i just dont have the budget or means or ability to make some skyrim type thing obviously LOL #Though maybe if theres any interest in the visual novel that could lead to making other things too. or at least I hope. I have a VERY cool #idea for a more ''gamey'' type of game that is a super fun concept and etc. but I would need to hire at least 2 people to make it.. ough..#I could do all the writing and probably half of the art. But I think I'd inevitably need a 3d artist and someone who can Code For Real hbjh #the system for ren'py (the thing I'm making a visual novel in) is not that complicated if you stick to just simple dialogue and stuff.#Making a whole moderately sized 3d game with minigames in it and a bunch of quest features and etc. would be out of my simplistic scope #''just learn it yourself!!' ... i barely manage to eat and sleep reliably every day lol... i do not function well enough to spend months #learning that many new skills. I already have a lot of of things I'm good at (not in a braggy way but just factually like.. i already have #a wide variety of different things under my belt).. at some point I have to just be happy with what i CAN already do and focus on that #and admit I need to get outside help sometimes ghjbh... NO more new skills/hobbies!!! ... ANYWAY

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halucygeno · 1 day ago

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Regardless of the strange formatting of the bullet points (for which you already apologized in the tags, I noticed), this is a very good justification!

I'm especially convinced by the "convoluted plan is a trial" part. It's embarrassing that I didn't notice it myself, because when I first watched episode 15, I remember thinking that following the beggars was very risky for Grabowski. But somehow, I never considered that this was the whole point — a filter meant to scare away anyone without the right conviction.

And you make fair point with how the homeless were probably much more socially marginalized and ignored back in those days. I'm not too educated on history, but at least from the way they're depicted in Orb, the beggars seem like pariahs.

I did wonder whether Badeni was hoping that the tattoo's would survive a long time and be discovered much later, but I think that's too much of a long shot. Like I already mentioned, shorter life-spans and higher mortality. But then again, it was always a far-fetched plan, so maybe Badeni really was counting on a miracle.

The only thing that still irks me, I guess, is why rely solely on the beggars? I feel like if a plan has such low chances of working, why not enact multiple plans just to be safe? He could have hidden a paper copy as a backup, hoping that somebody other than Grabowski finds it accidentally. It would be even less likely than Grabowski following the beggars, but it doesn't hurt to try.

Hubert (or Rafał - actually, it was probably Rafał) did something pretty similar when he carved the constellation into the rocks. He hoped that a discerning astronomer would coincidentally find his writing - and it worked. That's how the information passed from Rafał to Oczy and Gras.

I guess the lack of paper copies is less an issue with Badeni's plan, and more a fundamental problem in the premise of the show itself.

In theory, if the concept + evidence for heliocentrism were boiled down to their barest essentials, they could probably be summarized in a short pamphlet of less than 10 pages, which could then be copied by hand dozens of times. Those pamphlets could then be hidden in all sorts of places: ones where they're likely to be discovered (inside houses, studies, libraries, etc.) and ones where they're not so likely to be discovered (in stone chests out in the wilderness). Hopefully, this would help the idea spread in the short-term, while keeping it safe from extermination in the long-term.

Even the inquisition (at least the way it's depicted in Orb) would be tricked by this strategy. If you're captured, you can just lead them to one of the copies and destroy it, while pretending it was the only one.

I feel that this simple idea - "simplify the theory into a short text, then make lots and lots of copies" - is so inherently overpowered, that the mangaka had no choice but to ignore it, and draw as little attention to it as possible. Though, I guess they have to address it now with Draka, as she gears up to make Oczy's book available to the masses. She even points out how copying the manuscript by hand would be too laborious — which is fair for a 60 page book meant to be read by thousands, but would be much less convincing if it was a 4 page pamphlet that only needs to be copied, say, 20 times.

Anyway, I'm not gonna harp on about this. It's not worth losing sleep over, even if it's a slight contrivance in an otherwise great show. And it's not like other aspects of Orb aren't contrived - I just thought this contrivance was particularly damaging as it makes these otherwise smart characters look slightly incompetent.

Thanks for your exhaustive and detailed reply!

Ok, maybe a controversial opinion, but I don't understand how Badeni's tattoo plan was in any way clever or practical.

Functionally, how is it any different from simply making a paper copy of Oczy's diary and hiding it in a safe place, then leaving behind directions to find it? If he trusted Grabowski enough to lead him to the beggars (making the assumption that he wouldn't report the blasphemous tattoos to the church), then I'd say he could equally well have left the entirety of Oczy's diary with him directly.

Worse, tattooing the pages on 60 different people causes a bunch of unique problems that a paper copy doesn't have.

Firstly, life expectancy wasn't exactly fantastic in those times, especially for a beggar. By the time Grabowski discovered them, half the pages could be missing from them dying — or hell, just moving to a different slum. I'd say it's very lucky that all of the people Badeni tattooed both survived and stuck together long enough for the plan to work.

Secondly, that's at least 60 people who have witnessed/experienced Badeni tattooing something weird on their heads. They may not know how to read, but they should have at least some idea of what writing is. So, again, it's an immense stroke of luck that none of them, at any point, got curious or suspicious enough to go to a clergyman and ask "hey, what the hell did this guy write on my head"?

And remember, that's 60 people we're talking about. Whatever chance one of them has to accidentally or deliberately reveal the plan — multiply it by 60. Plus, if even one of them was discovered, catching all the others would have likely been fairly easy for the church.

So... what exactly was the point of the whole plan? If you think about it, it's an immense amount of work for seemingly no reward. I'm genuinely curious what Badeni thought the advantage was in doing things this way.

[2025-01-15 EDIT:]

On further reflection, the only two possible reasons I can think of are:

Badeni was hoping that his sheer audaciousness would create an emotional effect on whoever finds the writing. The plan was proof of his devotion to the cause, and a plea for the next person not to squander all this effort. Though I seriously doubt this would be enough to sway anyone devout to the church, so it's a bit of a stretch.

The 60 tattooed beggars were essentially hostages. Badeni was expecting that if the church found them, they would be accused of heresy and executed. So he put 60 human lives on the shoulders of whoever finds the writing. Reporting the tattoos would mean condemning 60 people to death, which I bet even devout believers would hesitate to do.

But these are just guesses based on imperfect information. If the beggars explained how they were unwittingly roped into the plan, maybe they wouldn't be executed. So it's unclear if they'd even work as hostages.

#Thank you for the great response!#orb: on the movements of the earth #chi: chikyuu no undou ni tsuite

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