#jhin fanfiction

[mmmmmmmmhhhhh]

The stars are watching us

Dark Cosmic Jhin x reader

Notes: it's the first smut I've ever written and english isn't my first language so please bare with me. Sorry if there are many errors. The reader had fem anatomy but the gender isn't specified or anything.

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The air felt warm, your mind dizzy. You don't remember when was the last time you had spent time with him, not like this at least. Being an aspect wasn't all that bad, surely some things could be better, like having more time to yourself instead of having to help others, but the chances that your situation brought you were enough to forget about the bad things. One of them, if not the most important, was Jhin. You met him eons ago now, you saw him getting corrupted by the dark star but nothing could change about how you felt about each other. His change in demeanor wasn't difficult to adapt to, he always had a strange way of thinking, something you loved about him, something that made him so different from the other celestial beings that you befriended over time. Unfortunately, yours and his situation didn't make it easy to be in the other one's presence, a rare occurrence that basically happened everytime you had a bit of free time and could finally be welcomed back in his arms. Now it was one of those times, an even rarer one if we want to call it that: you had just finished helping the lunari near Mount Targon, their fights with the solari only got worse with time and at the moment you were one of the only people available to lend a helping hand. This left you exhausted, your energy spent and the only thing you wanted more was to go back to Jhin, who was probably busy trying to come up with a new "artistic" was to destroy entire planets.

"Hey, too busy to say hello?" You said, chuckling slightly as you approached your lover, his back now turning away from you and making you able to finally see him.

"Your entrance keeps lacking artistry my dear, but I suppose that after all this time I should have gotten used to it" yeah not the most beautiful answer he could say but luckily you knew him enough to read between what could have been taken as an insult and understood that he was still pleased to see you.

"Got anything to do, other than destroying pieces of galaxy I mean?"

"Nothing in particular, the new constellations were finally finished two moons ago and even if they weren't I wouldn't miss an opportunity to spend time with you just to fix stars across the galaxy". It felt nice to know that he still cared about you, not that you doubted him, but it was reassuring to know that he preferred staying with you rather than doing everything else, even the important tasks that he really had to do.

Unfortunately before you could say anything else he decided to speak again:

"You had something on your mind, didn't you?"

"No..." If others could say that you were a good liar he sure wasn't one of those people, after so many years spent together he was able to read you well, probably too well.

"And you are sure about that love?" His question made you look away from his face, a confirmation of his suspicion. While your conversation didn't start long ago you somehow failed to notice the proximity in which you two were in. Feeling one pair of hands grab your waist you put one of your on his mask, his head nuzzling against it while looking at your face, your cheeks heating at the gesture. Another set of hands were now on your hips, his claws digging into the flesh of your thighs while he pulled you up, now face to face with him. Your right hand found purchase on his shoulder while the other moved aside his cloak, exposing his skin to you. Despite living in the vast Cosmo he somehow always had the same body temperature, he felt warm under your touch, almost as if inviting your fingers to started tracing patterns along his chest. The two hands on your waist moved up, now resting just under your breasts, a promise of what was to come if you really wanted it.

"I know what you are trying to do love, I see that your tricks haven't changed" he chuckled while one of his hands went between your legs, gently touching you where you needed him most. His action made you try to close your legs, only to remind yourself that you wrapped them around his middle. A whimper escaped your mouth. Damn it, the only option now was to try to distract him and hope that he didn't hear you...which was kind of difficult considering that you were right next to his ear. In an half hearted attempt you started kissing his collarbone, leaving light marks only visible to you. The fact that his body was slightly transparent, and literally looked like the galaxy that was around you both, should have made it harder for you to notice the bruises that were slowly forming on his skin, it was the opposite actually: over the years you noticed that those places started slowly filling up with little stars, almost making the patch of skin glow. You knew he enjoyed pain so when you noticed that one of the marks you made had a droplet of blood you decided to lap at it with your tongue, only to then suck again on the same spot making him groan. The clawed hands that were grabbing your waist finally decided to do something, now opening the buttons of your shirt and exposing your body to him only to start playing with your right nipple while the other kneaded your other breast. The hand between your legs suddenly stopped moving, making you look up at him to question the choice only to find that he was already expecting that as your response, answering your question by pressing you against the fabric of his pants. The gesture making you whine softly when you felt how hard he was, hoping to finally feel him inside you. Unfortunately for you, your request was left unfulfilled when he decided to move you away from him just the right amount no not feel it under you anymore.

"Please Jhin, seriously it's been too long, I know you want this too so just get on with it" the desperation in your voice was palpable, but the only answer you got was your lover laughing near your ear.

"You really are desperate, aren't you my dear. So tell me, what exactly is that you what me to do mmh?" Even if you couldn't see his expression you could still feel him smirking while saying that. "I just want to feel you, do just that, please..." Maybe you should have specified how you wanted to have him inside you since the next thing he decided to do was pulling your pants down only to press a finger in you, your walls tightening around it, happy to finally feel something even if it wasn't what you originally meant. He started pumping his finger at a steady pace while one of his other hands started rubbing circles on your clit, your hands were now on his shoulder for support even if the two hands that were earlier playing with your breasts were now again on your waist, keeping you where he wanted. After a while he decided that it was probably better to add another finger, with now two of his digits constantly going in and out of your hole you couldn't really keep your voice down, your moans filling his ears while the sound of your wetness constantly being played with filled the space around you. Your head was now dizzy and you didn't notice when he moved back a little, having you basically sit on top of him, only to find out that in this position his fingers could reach deeper inside you, making you whimper.

"Enjoying yourself, aren't you? You really are a canvas worthy of being painted by the most talented hand...luckily for you you will" you were too far gone to understand what he meant, only nodding along with what he said. With no need for his support anymore his hands started undoing the metal belt that kept his pants on, his erection visible from under the fabric, only making you want to touch it more, which you did. Your reward was hearing him hiss your name, words strained because of the feeling. It didn't take long for him to take off his garments, making you able to finally see his cock. It was basically the same color as his body, the tip just a little darker and glistening with a thick bead of precum.

"Well you seem to be enjoying yourself too no?" You almost purred in his ear, putting one of your hands between your legs to gather some wetness, only to start touching him, spreading the mix of fluids on his dick while you played with his tip. "It never ceases to amaze me that it sparkles, you know? I mean I know that they are literally stars but still... it's always so pretty to see" your talk about how much you liked how his cum looked probably didn't help him since you felt him twitch under your hand. At this point you decided that almost torturing your poor lover really was a fun thing to do so instead of keeping your hand there you got up a little, feeling the hands that were playing with you move away enough to allow you to basically sit on with without actually having him inside you. Those same hands now found purchase on your hips, digging their claws in your skin while you started moving slowly, your slit covering his cock with your wetness while your clit sometimes touched his tip, making the both of you moan. While doing this was fun and all that, you noticed that it was probably too much time since you last played with his nipples, now more sensitive than before. You would have continued doing your thing if it wasn't for him to basically stop you, his hands moving you away from his lower half so you couldn't keep on making him feel too much at once.

"I'm sorry love but I think that it's time to change pace, it would become boring if a performance kept the same one for the whole show, wouldn't it now?" Before you could question him you felt his tip at your entrance, thanks to the mess you both made the stretch didn't hurt much but it still left that tingling feeling in you. In one motion the rest of his cock was now buried in you, your walls sucking him in, while the both of you tried to not make too much noise. Your hands went back on his shoulders while two of his went to your hips and one back at playing with your clit. With now only one hand free he found out that the best thing to do to hear your voice was to put his fingers in your mouth, two of them on your tongue while his thumb stayed under your chin, keeping your mouth open and coating his digits with your spit.

"You don't know how beautiful you look right now, it really is unfortunate that such an image cannot be preserved in time" not even after saying the entire phrase he started moving, at first he opted for only pulling out and thrust back in, reaching that one spot that made your vision grow white, but over time he decided to change that, only to start going faster. The hands on your hips guiding your body as he wanted while praise after praise he kept pounding into you. You knew you wouldn't have lasted much longer and he knew it too, deciding to add to the feeling and press down harder on your clit making you moan louder. Your mind felt dizzy, your limbs were going numb and in those last few moments of total consciousness you heard him say something along the lines of painting you just as he said... When you finally came your nails were digging a little too hard in his shoulders. It didn't take long before he finished too, unfortunately or not, inside you, quite literally painting your insides with his cum, only to feel it drip down your hole and unto his things. "You should look down darling, you seem to have forgotten the best part" without even having the time to look down his hand gently grabbed you chin, tilting your head down and making you see what he was referring to.

Evidently too much time passed since the last time you two did this because you totally forgot that his seed was basically glow in the dark, or at least you could see where it was inside of you through your skin. You touched where it was dripping out of you but before you could see it clearly it basically evaporated, making those little star like glitters that made it oh so pretty dance in the air around you and slowly transforming into real little stars.

"I was right, it really is pretty..." You now had a fond smile on your face, deciding to bring your lips to his mask you kissed him gently, hoping to at least now convey how much he meant to you.

"Wanna know something my dear?"

Humming in response you waited for him to continue.

"We probably have to stay like this if you don't want dozens of stars to randomly spawn around us... I think you know what I'm referring to" if it weren't for the fact that at exact moment the only thing in your mind was how much you loved him you would have probably smacked his face. Luckily for him enjoying some more time together was the thing you wanted more at the moment, unfortunately he still had to go back to his "work". It will be fun finding out which excuse he'll use tomorrow when Ashe will ask why he wasn't doing his job and why there were so many new stars floating around the Cosmo.

[vindictusoverlord]

It’s a Jhin fic. Have fun degens👀

TW: depiction of murder, harsh language, sexual themes.

Kinky(?) stuff!: choking, orgasm denial, oral, slapping, biting, dirty talk(kinda).

Word count is 6,100. It’s a biggin.

God speed, soldier.

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"Ah," Jhin coos, relishing at the heavy thunk! of his last victim. Under his breath, he recites to himself; "My cacophony... the diminuendo... an opera of death... truly exquisite..."

It was all the musings of an inspired lunatic and it danced on his tone, bobbing delicately like a swan on the water, but it defined his chaotic nature entirely— he was a heretic of classical theatre.... Despite this, you had found that you were just like him, anyhow— twin flames sharing the same sick, perverted proclivities and an affinity to a dramatic bloodstained curtain call— it only made sense that you'd find yourselves wound up like this after another one of Jhin's flawless masterpieces. Such a remarkably stunning signature on a heap of corpses and all the while, Jhin stood untouched and unsullied before them. He blew the smoke off his pistol as he gazed below, sending a misplaced chair tumbling over with his foot to admire his handiwork.

"You've outdone yourself, Jhin," You removed your mask as you spoke, wiping off the splattered blood with a handkerchief, trying to alleviate his anger with your smile, and placing your palm on the small of his back. "Really, it was a beautiful performance."

The man holsters his weapons, spinning them with a certain theatrical flair as he does so, and adjusts the collar of his shirt. "It would have been different had you not been here," He says, tone heavy and dark like the narrator to a story, but the cadence hinted that he was pleased with your show tonight, even if he was horribly angry at the men below. "My art would be nothing if not for you."

"I hardly did anything at all. Please, save your flattery." You grin coyly, admonishing the false humility, but Jhin laughs anyways, seeming to accept that you were, in fact, just fine. Though he had always found it peculiar, he admired your consistent sense of dignity and grace on the battlefield. It was a recurring behavior that you displayed— that is, shifting all the credit of a smooth job to him— when it was truly you who set the whole gig up. But nonetheless, and despite his mixed opinions on the matter, Jhin knew it was best not to argue it, but rather to focus on the task at hand.

While you fish around the bodies for your throwing knives, Jhin turns away from his artwork to finish what you had both come all the way there for— an entire shipment of shimmer and the blueprints of an illegally built underground warehouse, as they all tended to be. The two of you slowly load up the truck with the heavy boxes of drugs, securing them down with tarp and straps, before making the two hour trip back to your client's base of operations.

While the driver careened down the interstate, you found yourself thinking about the choices you've made thus far. It felt as though it may have been getting old, working for chump change and constantly moving; always at the mercy of the dangerous political climate. On the other end, it seemed as though Jhin didn't much care for the result of a mission or why he was there in the first place, but rather focused his attention to the clean kills and the adrenaline rush he got from it. You felt somewhat similarly if you were honest, but the pay was important if you were both to stay alive and in hiding. As two of the most wanted criminals in Ionia, odd jobs like this were hard to come by and bounty hunters were plentiful. You took it upon yourself to be the eyes and ears while Jhin was better at talking and finessing, and between the two of you, your chemistry was undeniably successful. Had your doubts been even slightly mitigated by this success, though, perhaps you wouldn't be thinking so often of leaving with your resident maniac in tow.

Even when you handed over the documents to your temporary employer, listening to the excessive palaver while they unloaded the cargo, you felt confident and secure in your partnership with Jhin the Virtuoso, and he felt the same in you. Rarely did he come to trust anyone. But you... well, you had an electricity to you. A particular kind of panache. The first of its kind to catch and hold the killer's eye, and likely the last. Jhin had great plans for you as his partner in both crime and in love, and he endlessly daydreamed about those deviant fantasies of ruthless killing and depraved splendor upon a bed of thorns and gold. Frequent dreams of staining the goose down duvet with the bloody theatrics of your trophies and images of your exquisite countenance twisting with prodigious ecstasy blinded him— oh!, indeed, all of that he wished to share with you alone. Jhin had a plethora of scenes he wished to enact with his beautiful accomplice, and as you sat beside him, absently tapping your pretty fingers on your leg, he had half a mind to show you those perversions right now—

"Jhin," You snap in front of his face. "Are you okay?"

He inhales sharply. He hasn't even realized the two of you had finished up so quickly, let alone that you were already home. Jhin's thoughts consumed him, inspired by the way you peered over at him with those deep (e/c) eyes full of curiosity.

"Yes," he says, confidence oozing off of him. "I'm fine. Let's get this going, shall we?" It was so frustrating to be pulled out of such a tantalizing spectacle, but he begrudgingly lets the thoughts drift to the back of his dirty mind, nodding his acknowledgement at you before following your lead out of the vehicle.

As you said your goodbyes and shook hands with the driver, Jhin's eyes wandered to your plump behind. He gave his farewells as well, of course, but as they parted ways and you began your steady march just a short pace ahead, Jhin returned his ardent stare. As quickly as they had been suppressed just moments before, the debauched musings collided with him once again as they had for the last few hours. He counted the steps until the two of you entered your temporary home, timing them just perfectly with the clicking of your rubicund heels. Soon.... He thought, I'll give her a show of a lifetime... another timeless masterpiece for the ages...

You felt Jhin's heavy gaze on you, prickling your skin into a subtle shiver. It was often that you pondered whatever spiraled about in his warped mind, but his disassociation didn't phase you much more than peaking your endless curiosity for this man's inner machinations. Even as you fumble with the key, you can't shake the feeling that something was wrong with Jhin, as he had been a bit off since you had announced the recent contract to him. He had an innate sense for those kind of things, so it left you on edge to know that even he was skeptical.

But for now, you'd enjoy each others company in the warmth of your humble home. Nothing else mattered for the next few days while you both rested, restocked, and recouped.

As the heavy door opens up, you enter the room, allowing yourself to finally unwind as Jhin struts past you. After sliding off his shoes, he sets his things down while you close and lock the heavy door, making your way quickly to the large restroom. You were caked with blood and dirt and, seeing as though you were both germaphobes, you couldn't wait to wash the filth down the drain.

"(Y/N), my dear," The man says. "Might I join you for a moment?"

"To wash up?"

"Don't play dumb," Jhin finally removes his mask, setting it carefully alongside his personal items. "To admire. I'll wash up later in the evening."

"Of course," Despite your perceived confidence, your heart slipped into a new gear. He nodded to your acceptance of his request with a smile, staying behind to allow you a moment to fill the tub, but never taking his eyes off of you as you stripped away the soiled fabric, tossing your mask and cloak into the laundry hamper.

He adored your figure, tracing every inch in his minds eye, even if he'd seen it bare many times before. It never ceased to leave him speechless. His feelings had been confounded to an infinitely constricting noose around a proverbial neck, and as you peeked over your shoulder and sweetly smiled at the killer, Jhin felt it tighten even further.

The hot water felt nice on your submerging body. You hadn't realized how sore you were from the scuffle earlier in the day, and having almost been killed this morning left a sour taste in your mouth. Unseen cuts and bruises stung while you sank slowly into the tub, suppressing a grimace as you come to rest at the bottom of the deep basin, enjoying the bubbles that rose up to your neck and surrounded you. Jhin enters the room shortly after, a glass of wine in both hands, and takes a seat on the side of the tub. He passes one to you, a grin curling his top lip.

"To a job well done," The man taps his glass against yours, savoring the sweet wine as he sips from the rim, humming a song to himself as he rises back to his feet. You simply relax back in the tub, scrubbing down your skin with a washcloth and enjoying the rich tone of Jhin's voice. You sit in silence for a while, simply enjoying one another's company while he sings to you, and before long, he speaks up again.

"Do you have anything else in store for us this upcoming week?" Jhin asks, leaning against the sink counter, amusing himself while you bathe. An air of insouciance lingered about his contemplation as he did so, eyes glittering with childlike mischief.

"Hmmm," You mull it over as you rinse your hair out, brushing through the tangles with your fingers. "Not that I'm aware of." Having finished, you rise up from the tub, bend over to pull the drain, and wring your hair out with the plush towel.

Jhin curls his lip upward. "Lovely. Then I'll have you all to myself."

"Oh, you have plans, do you?"

He says nothing, rather letting his silence speak for him as the glass finds its place onto the countertop. He watches you from start to finish, enamored by the seemingly menial task of drying yourself down. You hang up the towel, your hair still leaving little droplets along your skin, before sauntering carefully towards him.

"You know," Your voice is a soft purr as it comes out, calm and collected. "I'm really quite fond you, Khada Jhin. You do know that, don't you?" Your fingers run up his dress shirt, the fabric still pressed firm and starkly clean, from sternum up to around his shoulders, intertwining yourself into his warm embrace. His cologne was decadent and made you feel love-drunk, the floral musk driving your mind to dangerous places.

"But of course I know." He coos. "I am the luckiest man alive, after all."

You rise to your toes and place your lips softly against the crook of the man's neck, briefly sinking your teeth into the flesh before moving on to another, lower spot. Jhin hums his pleasantry, acquiescing to your painful leisure, and tightens his grip on the edge of the counter.

You enjoyed his white-knuckling— the way he held back and bit his silver tongue; how he melted into you like wax; when his lips parted and he sighed, the air thick with tension... You continued down, showing him just how much you loved him; gradually unbuttoning his collar, loosening the tie, and then the placket. You left neat kisses along his pale, scarred skin, raising goosebumps along the surface. Jhin releases a careful hand to caresses your cheek, desire apparent in his focused eyes. His lips twitch when he lifted your chin up with only his forefinger, forming something of a crooked smirk. His normal tepid expression, characterized only by the mask he wore to disguise his heart, was replaced by a sense of passion and, hidden behind his gaze, an exhausted restraint.

Jhin nudges your nose with his own, softy falling into your lips. His breath tasted of wine, bittersweet and boozy, but his touch was soft and deliberate. You melted against him, submitting to your yearning, but Jhin remained surprised nonetheless. You ruled him, every part of him— you, the deliverer of divine retribution to his physical and spiritual being; the one that took his life into your hands— and his soul flickered and faded with every touch, lingering on the timbre of everything you said, just as your tongues did. They mimicked a decadent crescendo until you both needed a breath, stealing the oxygen from one another like it would suffocate you to disconnect for even a moment. And like comets, you were destined to meet again, and so you did, with his hands pressed onto your waist and hips and one your own against his chest, the other making its way down to the bulge in his slacks.

And you both fell back into the other.

The tide of idolatry was all consuming. As Jhin kissed you, it felt as thought you were ascending— almost like falling upwards through the clouds— as you fell deeper in love with the maniac. Just like the first time you had shared a kiss, you felt the distinct shock through your core every time since then. Those rampant butterflies that almost made you nauseous, the furious beating of your heart, and the dizziness that fogged your mind kept you going back for more. Endlessly craving more.

As if he read your thoughts, a slender hand wrapped around your neck and you hummed into his embrace. Jhin pulls away after a moment, his lips grazing against yours, and following instinct, you lean forward, longing for all of him. His other hand, breaking away from your hip, pulls his belt out of the loops and slides behind the waistband of his trousers. Jhin unbuttons them with a simple flick of his thumb and forefinger, letting you to unzip them yourself, and then returns his hands to the countertop. You drop to a squat before running your fingers along his waist band, lingering on each peck you give his abdomen. Jhin watches intently, seemingly mesmerized by your finesse, and, almost as if he forgot how to breathe, his exhales hitch on an absent thought with every breath he takes in.

You slowly drag the smooth fabric from his slender hips, biting softly onto one side of his undergarments and tugging with your hand on the other, only closing your eyes when you return upwards to leave a trail with your lips along his prominent pelvis bones. His member softly presses against the side of your face as you led your kisses to the base, lingering there for a moment to take in his warmth and the scent of his cologne. Mesmerized by his simple beauty, you peer up at him, relishing the sight of his vulnerability as if it were a drug.

"I've been thinking about you— this— all day," Jhin whispers. The light catches his face in a way that accentuates the sharpness of his features and softness of his skin. He was, by most accounts, a very average looking man, only his demeanor setting him apart from the crowd. He was fairly inconspicuous without his mask, though he hated to be without it, but his almond shaped brown eyes held a certain frigidity and authority-- a professionalism, almost-- and his skin was no longer pallid as it had been when you had met. The honey colored warmth in his gaze captured light and turned it auburn like muted fire or an endless horizon— simply full of life.

You bat your eyes at him, feigning innocence. His confidence faltered when you did that, staring up at him through those pretty eyelashes, eyes wide and full of wonder. The way your gaze gleamed with mischief made him let out a nervous chuckle, one that made his cock twitch with anticipation.

"Just sit back, my love." Making eye contact, you let your tongue drag along the underside of his cock to the tip, amusing yourself with the subtle twitch of his hooded eyelids. "Let me take care of you."

He always acted like it was the first time you touched him, as if it was the stars and sky falling right above him in a perpetual performance. Jhin, who put out an air of arrogance and wise experience, was simply a man after all. And every man had a weakness.

Jhin bit his bottom lip as your tongue twirled around the head and ever... so... slowly... inched down as if to absorb him in his own pleasure. Your lips wrapped delicately around your teeth to protect his flesh as you moved forward, flexing outward as you gradually pulled back, creating a suction that forced a soft moan from your fragile lover.

You, the kind woman that you were, took your time building up your tempo, enjoying the soft grunts Jhin elicits, and begin to glide your hands up his thighs. Your fingers softly prod around his package, wrapping around to cup his balls as the tip of his shaft passes down your throat. You hold it there for a few moments before shifting back, returning to your original tempo, but this time, you go all the way down to his belly, grazing his happy trail with your nose. Jhin lets out a sigh, instinctively twisting his fingers in your wet hair. He knew he was at your mercy by the way you moved your tongue so expertly and pulled those degrading noises out of him. It was as if your intention had been solely to devour him soul first. Unbeknownst to you, had that kind of unity been an option, Jhin would gladly let you.

The churning knot built up quickly in the pit of his stomach, raising a pressure below that made it hard to breathe out against his soft moans. The dirty gargling noises that erupted from your throat had him biting his lip far too hard, his head thrown back to whisper his pleadings with the gods, and somehow even through all the pleasure, he softly thanked them, too.

You wrapped your free hand around the remaining length of his cock, pumping back-and-forth in unison with your mouth, capturing it all within the depths of your greedy throat. None of him would go untouched, unloved, or ungrateful, and you were going to make sure of that. You would love all of him down to the molecules of his very being until the day he died.

And as you took all of him in, pressing your nose against his belly over and over, Jhin bit down on the sleeve of his shirt. It had begun to slip off his shoulders, the sleeves just long enough for him to try to suppress his raunchy melody within the fabric. But his legs began to buckle, his arms flung back to the countertop to keep him from falling, and your momentum didn't stop. You kept it up, eyes closed to bring forth your earned prize, and the sheer thought of you forced the man to utterly submit to your presence. You could feel the flexing of his restraint on your tongue as he held back as strongly as he was able to, but before long, Jhin would meet his limit.

The man leans forward ever so slightly as he snakes his hand around your throat once again. His fingers tread lightly along your skin as they wrap around it, pressing into the flesh. His breath hitches as he feels the girth of his cock sliding down, and out, and back again, amazing himself by how well you could take in his length.

"Oh, fuck..." he murmurs, tightening his grip in your (h/c) locks. "How do you... do that?" Jhin hums as he struggles to pull you off of him, eyes dull and weak as if he was simply a puppet and you were the marionette. You noticed a string of spit hung from your lip to the tip of his curved dick, licking your lips seductively up at his bewilderment.

"No more?" You ask, obediently placing one hand in your lap to play with yourself.

He chuckles— exasperated— eyes flickering between the placements of your hands. "Look what you do to me... it's simply... not fair." He spoke quietly between labored breaths, meekly gesturing at his cock now drooling with pre-cum. His hand finds its place there, long, slender fingers dividing to hold his flesh at the base, accentuating the curve.

"Fairness is a construct," You move closer to his proud member, making eye contact with him as you plant kisses along the his hip bones and his stomach, holding onto his hip with one hand to keep him in place. "If life was fair to all of us, we wouldn't be on the run. And we," You gaze up at him, deviance dancing like demons across your expression, haunting your erotic smile. "Could do whatever we wanted."

Jhin shudders at the sight of you below him, toying with your pussy as his cock stood erect against your flushed cheek. He enjoyed the chase you presented his way as if you were a mouthy slave to his wishes, your sexual deviancy a lure to reel him into a whirlwind of eroticism.

His fingers brush gently through your hair, smoothing out the chaos he had made in it just moments before. "Stand up for me, my rose," Jhin coos, his words flowing off his tongue like poetry. "I think it's your turn, now."

With a quick nod, enticed by his intent, you rise to your feet and take Jhin's offered chivalry. He places your wet fingers onto his tongue, locking eyes with you as he closes his lips around them. His tongue swiped off your juices, delicately dancing along each of the two fingers as he cleaned them up. You couldn't help but sigh, a mewl following shortly after, when you slowly pull your fingers back out. His seduction worked every time, and the image of his face buried between your legs, squished by your thighs until he struggled to breathe... but that intense climax would be worth anything.

"Ready?" He asks.

Baffled, you simply nod.

He leads you to the neat and organized bedroom, shirking off his white dress shirt along the way. He turns and captures you within his arms, positively bursting with passionate affection. You couldn't help but giggle as he did so, becoming ensnared in yet another embrace of his lips. The man slowly walks you back to the bed, never once breaking the contact when he lifts you up onto the mattress. His tall form looms over you, and those same kisses become sloppier as he makes his way down your body.

You feel his slender fingers graze against your skin, down from your shoulders to your breasts. His large palms cup underneath, one hand pressing softly against your hardened nipple, while his tongue plays on the other. Jhin's eyes are closed as he just slightly touches his bottom teeth against the sensitive skin. You grip the duvet under you, trying desperately to hold back the electricity that flowed through you. You could feel the small smile he let slip out, his adoration peeking out through his long, dark eyelashes, and he continues moving down.

The way his hands felt on your skin stirred goosebumps on your skin. They were calloused on his fingertips— a signature sign of a musician— but the smooth palms kept an arch to them that applied just the right pressure as he touched you. As his hands slid slowly past your hips and down to your thighs, he allows his thumbs to just barely brush against your sex while he works his kisses downwards. Before long, Jhin has you wriggling in his arms while he teases you, hushed gasps escaping as you squirm. You prop yourself up on your elbows, pouting your lips and furrowing your brow in protest.

His eyes are narrow, thinned with tension, and he takes it as his sign to brush his lips gently against your heated sex. The man's tongue softly slips from his lips, making a small circle before he kisses your womanhood again. He flattens it out, carefully watching your expression as he goes to work, twirling and flicking in an improvisational dance that landed every move. He kept a consistent pressure and suction on your clit as he always did, skill simply unmatched, volleying the flatness and extending the length of his tongue.

Jhin presses his palm into your lower stomach, sinking it in and holding it there. While he does, his free hand slides his index and middle fingers along your opening, coating them both with a mixture of your juices and his saliva before slowly— oh, so slowly— inserting them into you. He allows you to acclimate, always having loved the tightness and the way you gripped his fingers, humming his praise into your sex.

You let out a soft moan, something more akin to a drawn out, breathy "fuck!", as his long fingers curl upwards, seeming to beckoning you from within. The pads of his fingertips firmly tapped against the spongey part of your sex, curving in and out with a leisurely pace. It felt as though he was coaxing your heartbeat, and it seemed to follow without much hesitation. It descended through your chest, making friends with the butterflies, as it found its home there amidst them. Your breathy moans matched the thudding, decadently rising in pitch as Jhin pushed and pulled his fingers. The pressure built up quickly and formed a fiery heat that began taking root within your depths.

Jhin, of course, knew what you liked and he knew it well, only slightly picking up his pace once your body had flexed, then relaxed and slowed down-- and when it tensed again, he repeated this process, counting to four in his mind to keep a consistent pace.

"Jhin, please..." You beg, a pathetic expression clear as daylight on your face. "I want you—"

He smiles, not stopping his pace and replacing his tongue with the padding of his thumb, swirling it in quick circles, as he speaks. "I know," he croons, melodic in his tone and ever so satisfied with your reactions. It almost sounded like he was placating you, begging for your orgasm as if he wanted nothing more than your body contorting against him.

"I'd like you to cum for me first. Will you do that, my love?" Jhin whispers.

"Yes," You nod weakly, unable to hold from setting your head back down on the duvet. "...sir."

He smiles, going back between your legs with the same fervor. "That's my good girl."

Naturally, you lay back and bring your hands up to fondle your breasts, squeezing the buds softly as you begin to cross over the brink. It takes a few more minutes as you ride your hips into him, taking greedy steps towards the edge as tears formed in your eyes and your thighs cramp from the shaking. Jhin throws his arm over your leg, using a part of the weight of his body on the other to keep them separated and to hold you still as you slip into bliss.

He wouldn't stop until your mind was numb and empty, until your eyes rolled back and your body twitched uncontrollably, letting a pool of drool hang by your cheek. Jhin couldn't hold back from that kind of torture. It was, for him, another pure form of art he performed only for you. And while you lay there squirming, your sweet voice filled the room with a music he could hear every day, all day, for the rest of his natural life.

Your head was spinning, face hot and slack. Your climax had you in a chokehold, lasting longer than you had expected it to. The white hot heat that took over you seared your skin like a brand, marking you forever as Jhin's.

"My sweet girl," Jhin licks his lips, crawling on top of you. "You are so beautiful like this." He positions your legs on either side of himself, cupping your cheek as he kisses your trembling lips, his tongue tracing the soft flesh before he dives back into your embrace. You taste yourself on his breath— the tangy sweetness of your love made you sweat— and you wrap your arms around his shoulders tightly, afraid to let go.

Jhin positions himself at your entrance, tracing his length over your sex before he poses to enter, kissing your forehead before he does so. "Do you want it, my darling?" He hums sweetly, just mere inches from your ear.

"Always," You whimper, barely able to bring yourself to say much else. The fog of his presence held your mind in a bird cage, and it was a helpless, thrashing creature all the while. "Please."

Gradually, he pushes himself in, lowering the tip of his cock into you with his thumb, bringing his hips closer to meet yours. You inhale as his length enters you, the fullness making your breath hitch. You were still so terribly sensitive, arching your back to feel it all— as Jhin gently began to rock his hips, your hands instinctively press against his bare chest. Your fingers traced carefully over his scars, letting them take their place on his collarbone.

"You're doing so well." Jhin's voice is gruff, his kisses dotting your neck and forehead as he speaks. The man brushes the hair from your face, mild and deliberate as he makes his way through the routine. He treated you as if you were a delicate flower on the cusp of a spring bloom, pressing his forehead to yours, clearly relishing in the meek mewls he was able to earn as he picked up his pace.

Jhin pulls back, scooping your legs up onto his left shoulder and straightening his back. He looks so tall and overpowering here, the coldness in his gaze still lingering amidst his dark stare. You couldn't completely take away the sadistic side of the killer, but you loved to see his aggression every now and then.

He picks up his pace, pumping in and out, every move calculated, breaths intertwined as he gazes lazily down at you. He filled you perfectly, the curve of his cock greeting your depths. It was almost as though he could read your mind; the way Jhin's fingers snake in between your thighs while he moves matched your thoughts. He makes quick movements, deliberately toying with you with a fiery fixation on the way your expression contorts.

The man watched as your eyes rolled behind your eyelids, lip quivering against your labored breathing, and he just loved the way you used your hands against the mattress to push yourself back against him. He loved the curves of your body, decorated with your numerous scars. They were a sign of a warrior, uncontested through your countless battles, and while he imbibed your intoxicating aura, you grew ever louder as his pace picked up. The aggression turned primal when his fingers grazed your neck, the melody of skin-to-skin impact filling the thick air. His manicured nails just barely scratch the skin, sending ripples of goosebumps across your body. A crooked, sadistic smile seems to crack across his face, and without any warning, Jhin sends a hearty smack! against your bottom.

And gradually, he slows down to an agonizing pace. He gyrates his hips ever so slightly before moving his callused palms over the length of your body. You sigh out your grievances, something of a mixed bag of pleasure and annoyance, and his brows furrow. Jhin's face shifts, once something so perverse and barbarous, to the warmth of a hearth, or the color of yellow daisies. He was gracious and charming, like the story books would say, but his tone-- a gruffness in his voice-- was the stark opposite.

He leans over, the fingers of one hand clasped on your neck and softly tapping in succession, and whispers, "Who do you belong to?"

"Only you." You murmur it back, only just barely audible, but he smiles as he releases you.

"Show me,"

And so you adjust yourself, slowly making your way to the edge of the bed. Jhin sits down, surveying your every move, but one leg after the other, you lower yourself onto his lap. He holds you, chest to chest, covered in a sheen of sweat. Your breathing was discordant, a tribute to the wild look in your eyes. His, however, were heavy. They were shrouded in ambiguity, a darkness lurking just beneath, and when his lip twitched at the left corner, the air pulled taught once again. Tension could be cut with a knife... But this, well, perhaps not even a bullet could pierce through.

Your stomach churned. All the while, your heartbeat sped up. The man before you was unequivocally methodical about everything he did, even when he brushed the hair from your face and tucked it behind your ear. Without much control, your body squirmed at his touch, much like the shaking of leaves in a breeze. It was a shudder that washed away reality-- one that swept away all of the stress of life. Here in Jhin's presence, you felt as though the moon wasn't so far away. That maybe, just maybe, you could touch the dust upon its surface.

Jhin allowed you to lower yourself onto him, slowly rising and falling as the tide. His broad palms spread out against your bottom, lifting ever so slightly while you move, and his lips... They leave a trail along your shoulder, down to your collarbone, and... back up your neck. The man softly bites into your skin, a groan departing from the floor of his diaphragm.

That guttural noise... so primal and inviting... it always provoked something of a beast within you. A devil that yearned for submission.

Jhin hadn't expected you to push him back so roughly, but his eyes trailed your body as you sat up straight and dug your nails across his bare chest. He didn't react much aside from that and preferred to observe. He loved your lust for power and the way you took what you wanted. It was so aligned with his own methods, and initially what drew him to you, so with every movement and shaky breath that left your chest, he, too, rose to that peak of pleasure. It started in his throat, down to his lungs and all the way to his palms, closing in on his innards, and the to his toes. It consumed him in the same way it consumed you.

He came before you this final time, whimpering so, so very softly, but the moment felt like forever and nothing all the same, like the world was stuck in a volleying limbo. You let your hands drop beside his head, reveling in the quivering darkness hazing your thoughts. It was an absolute wash of warmth that drowned you out like a monsoon— the way Jhin held you in his arms as you both shivered, moving your hips ever so slowly in mesmerizing circles to capture his essence within you.

Tepid fingers twisted together behind his head, absently fiddling with the ring that adorned your left hand, and mind clear... absolved, almost. The man hugged you tightly against his chest, his complexion dewy, heart beats colliding in unison. You sigh outward, satisfied and relaxed, and that feeling of butterflies returned, rushing through your core to make you hum your satisfaction to your lover.

"You inspire me." Jhin croons, so soft and calm as he pants, and runs his fingers across the edge of your jaw. He was riding the bliss of his orgasm, floating high amidst the clouds.

You breathe in the romance, exhaling when you meet his lips once more. "And you..."

He smiles and your heart flutters.

"Complete me."

[clefaiiiry]

From the Airwaves to your Viscera

i wasn't kidding about finding a way to get lux into every fic ya know

not sure if this should be mature or explicit but hwei does have cannibalistic fantasies so ya know

now i can stop tormenting you all with incessant fic posting! for now :)

Read on AO3

Read on Tumblr - Under Read More

-~*~-

There’s a crick in Hwei’s neck, as there often is.

Before him, his canvas stares back, blank as it had been hours ago. His inspiration is a rusty old tap; when it flowed it was a raging tide, the only problem was unscrewing the damn thing.

Hwei spins his chair away from his easel and lets out a long, gravelly whine as he rubs his face. How long has it been dark for? He hadn’t really noticed. Hwei forces himself to his feet to switch on a lamp and stretches his fingers upward to the ceiling.

When he turns, his canvas is still empty. Even when he tries really hard to force paint to magically appear, it stays empty.

He’s exhausted, but sleep won’t come so he might as well paint. But if he can’t even paint, then what is he good for-

He needs a drink. He doesn’t have any alcohol so he’ll settle for something warm. Maybe it would do him some good to pour the boiling water straight onto his wretched hands-

His kitchen nook beckons and his heavy feet drag across the splotchy floor. It certainly needs a good scrub, but he’d have to shove everything off to the side for that.

While the kettle, he paces around his apartment, and makes a vague effort to fold away some clothes, but only makes it through two shirts before he decides the laundry chair is good enough. He fumbles to make his bed, a mattress on the floor with a duvet and a pillow without a case, but that plan too rapidly falls apart as he instead flops onto it facedown with a huff.

Hwei catches his gaze in his mirror, just a little desk one he uses when he can be bothered to do his makeup, and finds he doesn’t recognise himself. His skin prickles in apprehension of his unfinished piece. He has all the tools he could possibly need, all the technical know-how, so why do his hands not work? Why can his mind conjure nothing of merit? 

Soon enough his sulking is interrupted by the whistling kettle and he pours himself some tea, sipping much too early and burning his tongue. Rain is pattering against the window when he returns to his chair, mug left too close to the edge of the desk to be safe.

Hwei switches on the radio. He’d gotten it from Lux, an old thing probably due for the bin rather than his windowsill. It sounds about ready to blow every time he turns it on and cooperates only when it feels like it, but he likes it all the same. Hwei had only upgraded to a smartphone once his old brick had finally packed in and he couldn’t find a new battery for it.

Static crackles as he switches through frequencies, until finally a voice comes through,

“-much appreciated. We’re just now approaching- two-thirty in the morning, and those of us with sense may seek to retire for the evening.” Static rumbles with the man’s chuckle. “But sense is vastly overvalued in my humble opinion.”

The voice is deep, almost melodic, its warmth burrowing its way deep into Hwei’s bones. This would do. He leans back, pulls his feet up onto his chair, and braces his mug in both hands.

The host continues, “I do hope you are all satisfied with the playlist this evening, but if you aren’t then I’m afraid your other options are lacking. I don’t believe anyone else in the area runs this late anymore, so you’re stuck with me, poor thing.”

Hwei hums, lips twitching in a little smile as he goes for another attempt at his tea. It’s still not quite cool enough, but he doesn’t scald his lips this time. He leans forward to listen,

“Now, I’d like to let these next three play in their entirety. Now, if you’re a returning listener you’ll know I prefer instrumental pieces, but I can be persuaded to tolerate vocals.”

The host’s chuckle draws one from Hwei, like sharing the room with him.

The host goes into particulars regarding the upcoming songs before he lets them play. First is a gradual build of a quiet piano and strings that eventually crescendos in a resounding tidal wave, the next carries the intensity with strings and light synth, before the final song returns to a gentle lull with soft male vocals.

Together the songs feel like a journey, an adventure to the highest peak of a forgotten mountain. Like he’d trudged through sleet and snow to reach the very top, then slowly worked his way back down to earth.

A climb to the divine… and a fall back to mortality.

Hwei drops his mug on the desk with a loud thunk. If it had spilt, he didn’t notice, there were more important matters to focus upon. His hands move of their own accord, colours vibrant on the canvas. Jagged cliffs pierce the sky, a tattered hand breaking through to claw at the horizon, a single beam of heavenly guidance reaching back-

At least, that’s what they could be, what he intends for them to be. Art is rarely so straightforward.

He steps back and takes it in, tilts his head, is amazed to find he doesn’t hate it after staring at it for more than ten seconds. It’s still rough, needs a touch up on the uglier lines, but it’s progress, more than he’s had in weeks. 

Something rumbles at his ears and he realises the radio has died into static. The show must be over. Hwei stares at it for a moment longer before he takes note of the frequency on a little scrap of paper, then finally switches it off.

-~*~-

The moment he sees it again, Hwei hates his canvas.

In the light of morning he picks apart every stroke and smudge of paint he’d subjected upon that poor thing and finds a potent nausea bubbling in his stomach. The image is too bleak, too morbid, torn flesh shattering upon sharp blades of stone.

He considers shattering his fingers, placing them in the window and slamming it down until they’re broken and just as useless as they feel.

Suppressing the thought, he removes it from the easel and leans it against the wall, facing away. If he had to look at it any longer he was going to vomit. No, that was a bit dramatic, but he would certainly fantasise about tossing it out of the window. But what if it hit someone on the way down? He’d never forgive himself.

Once again, Hwei entertains the idea of cleaning his apartment and makes it as far as taking out the rubbish before he realises how late it is. He fumbles to scrounge up a full outfit from his floor, grabs his bag, and almost forgets to lock the door on the way out.

Not like there would be anything worth stealing.

-~*~-

The Crownguards come from the sort of old money Hwei could only ever dream of. While Hwei had got Lux a new plant pot for her succulent, her older brother had casually bought her, among other things, a new car. The way she said the make made it sound important, but he didn’t really know enough about that sort of thing to judge.

“You know,” Lux says as she turns the little pot over in her hands, “I prefer this.” It’s a little ceramic cream one shaped like a sheep with big shiny eyes and pink cheeks.

“You don’t have to say that,” Hwei says. She pouts.

“I’m serious! Larry looks so sad in his current pot, he needs a spruce up! This is perfect!”

She places it in the centre of the table and stares intently, as if another plant might sprout up if she wills for it hard enough. She’s deep in thought when she suddenly jerks and clasps her hands together.

“Oh! I got you something too!”

“Now hold on,” Hwei says, “it’s your birthday. You’ve got this backwards.”

Lux rolls her eyes. “Well, my birthday present to me is getting a treat for my friend! Ta-dah!”

The wrapping paper is almost too nice to tear, done up with a little ribbon and bow. Hwei mourns it before he begins to carefully peel from the taped edges. She’s bouncing in her seat by the time he finally folds it back.

Within the paper is a little wooden box, reminiscent of the sort one would expect to find a ballerina dancing inside. A golden crest adorns the lid, one that makes his stomach drop.

“Lux, I can’t accept this, it’s too much-”

“Don’t be silly! I insist!”

People are starting to stare so he accepts defeat and cradles the box in his arms like a wounded animal. He feels like crying.

“I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it! Hopefully this helps with the ol’ art block!”

A cold, heavy rock lodges itself into his throat. She’s staring at him with that huge, toothy grin and bright eyes, like she sees something he doesn’t.

Like she doesn’t see what he sees when he looks in the mirror.

A part of him wants to throw them back at her, as if it could ever be that simple! A darker part is tempted to throw it into the street just to make a point. But he doesn’t, because he knows she doesn’t mean it like that, that she’s just trying to be supportive and helpful.

The cold spreads downward into his lungs and he stares into his cup. Besides, why couldn’t it be that simple? He has sparks of inspiration all the time, why can’t he just create without second guessing himself? Without creating something hideous?

“Oh,” Lux says, breaking him from his stupor, “so I met up with Quinn the other day and-”

He’s grateful for the change of subject, especially since he isn’t expected to say much beyond the odd, ‘oh really?’ or ‘that’s nuts.’ She does try to prompt more of a contribution at first, but quickly realises it’s one of those days so lets him listen in peace.

Then she starts to fidget, her gaze lingering through the window. Lux purses her lips and taps an arrhythmic pattern into her cup with her nails. She’s had them done recently. They look nice, better than Hwei’s. His are still chewed and chipped, due a fresh coat of polish.

“What’s wrong?” Hwei asks and she nearly jumps out of her seat.

“Well, I- So urh, my aunt is running an art show between Christmas and New Year?”

“Oh. That’s cool.”

“Yeah!”

The silence that lingers between them drags on for much longer than he’d prefer. Lux finally sighs and sits up straight. She’s taller than him, but only because of how appalling his posture is, puffing up her chest to earn that extra inch or two.

“I think you should enter.”

Yep, about what he expected. Hwei shrugs. “I’m not sure…” he lies. He knows damn well what is stance is regarding such things-

“I like your stuff! And I’m sure other people would too, if you gave it a chance. It’s really great!”

He knows his work holds objective quality, on a technical level at least, but that stands for naught when it’s about as shallow as a child’s paddling pool. Not like he can help it; he can’t best the part of him which dreads what he’ll find if he digs any deeper.

Hwei finds his feet are suddenly deeply fascinating as he struggles to meet her intense stare. She deflates.

“Look, I don’t want to pressure you or whatever, I just- I really want more people to see your work. To really see the stuff you can do!”

“I-” He’s about to argue when he sees her face again and curse his humanity. Hwei rubs the bridge of his nose. “Let me see if I can finish something, and I’ll think about it.”

“You’re the best!”

Lux’s grin should be comforting, but it only twists the cold knife in his stomach even deeper.

-~*~-

When the radio crackles to life the following evening, Hwei can finally put a name to the voice.

Khada Jhin.

The music is pleasant enough to fill the silence and Hwei very rarely finds himself disapproving of the song selection. There are duds, of course, albums Jhin will sing the praises of while Hwei frowns through the set, but they just make him appreciate the good ones all the more. If anything, the alternative perspective is refreshing.

Jhin isn’t live every night, only Monday through to Thursday from one o’clock till five, but Hwei diligently listens to most of his shows. He doesn’t even do it consciously after a while, simply finds himself huddled by his desk with the soothing static. His sleep schedule is royally, completely screwed, but it’s not like he’d sleep even if he weren’t listening, and the routine is… nice.

Who was he kidding, the reason he kept tuning in was to listen to Jhin’s voice. That warm, comforting cadence has thoroughly imprinted itself into his soul and he’s shamefully addicted to the sound of it.

Hwei wonders if this is how a cosmonaut feels while they’re up in space, observing life below from afar. Out of reach but so very real. He also ponders on how long he’ll stay adrift before he runs out of air.

Jhin doesn’t talk that much, probably a thirty-seventy split on talking and music if Hwei had to put a number on it, but he listens to every word. Jhin speaks like an old friend one hadn’t seen for years, regaling tales of his life with all the theatrics of a playwright, and Hwei wants- needs to discover every piece of who this man is. And he does, piece by piece.

Jhin used to work as a composer, Jhin has a cat named Yuumi who he loves to death, Jhin is at least forty years old, Jhin prefers red wine over white, Jhin’s favourite flowers are lotus blossoms-

Hwei too could appreciate the beauty of lotus blossoms. He wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about flowers as a rule, but the lotus typically represented purity or rebirth, sometimes divinity depending on who you asked.

His mind wanders, stuck on the thought of how hard it would be to weed flowers blooming from one’s own skin. He feels itchy afterward, unclean.

It’s been a month since he discovered Jhin’s show. Tonight he’s playing some tracks by an artist Hwei had never heard of, but had recently gone mainstream after joining a boy group called Heartsteel. He had heard of them, but only because Lux was totally obsessed with their debut single.

“I did meet him before he lost his voice, back before he was forced into purely instrumental work,” Jhin says, almost melancholic, “a shame, really, his vocal talent was quite special. At least he’s finding success in other places.”

Hwei spares a glance to his canvas, staring back as blank as it had been hours ago. He bundles his blanket closer around his shoulders.

“Now,” Jhin’s voice guides him back like a candle in a storm, “as we are into our final hour, and because station management are getting quite particular about engagement- Urgh, we shall be opening requests again this evening. However, if any of you ask for some top forty schlock again, those privileges shall be revoked, management be damned.”

As he reads out the number, Hwei glances to where his phone is perched on the edge of his desk. He had considered ringing in at least a dozen times. What would he even ask for? He wasn’t particular, the type to say, ‘oh, I’ll listen to anything.’ It was a small roadblock, really, for an opportunity to talk to the man whose voice had kept him company for so many nights.

Hwei covers his face with a groan, his heels thumping onto the floor as he kicks his legs out.

Just pick something! Anything!

But what if he picked something Jhin didn’t like? 

Then I’ll just have to run off and start a new life in the forest-

Alright, now he really is being dramatic.

Hwei looks at his phone again, reaches out and strains his fingers across the desk until he can fumble it into his hand. He knows the number, even without Jhin repeating it. It’s so easy! Just dial it in and-

Hwei slams it back on the desk, face down, and hugs his knees up against his chest.

Another listener requests a song named The Turning of Our Bones. It’s a slow build of guitar with a gravelly vocalist, visceral in a way that tempts brush strokes from his idle hands.

A chest being torn open, ribs cracked and blood spilled. Hands carve their way into the cavity and clutch the heart within. The blood is purple, the heart is gold-

It’s only when the song ends that Hwei is struck by how morbid his creation is. Morbid, but oddly… beautiful.

He places it against the wall with the others.

-~*~-

Another few weeks pass before Hwei dials the number again. The dim screen illuminates his even darker room, thumb hovering over the call button, then he locks it and rubs his face. Jhin’s already had a few callers this evening who wanted to chat as well, so he’s probably sick of it anyway, Hwei reasons.

He spins on his chair and entertains the idea of adding to this piece, but he’s already sick of this one. It’s placed against the wall like the rest. He replaces it with a blank canvas.

The neighbours across the street have their Christmas decorations up already, the tacky LEDs making him squint every time he turns to the window. They’re not so bad, they’re a suitable excuse not to switch his own lights on.

He’s struck by how morbid it would be for someone to choke on them, be hung by them-

“I hate Christmas,” Jhin says with a sigh, “I know, I know, ‘how could I possibly?’ Yes, call me Ebenezer Scrooge. If you ask me, everything is far too loud and bright this time of year. Or perhaps I’m showing my age.” He laughs and Hwei feels the tension bleed from his shoulders.

But then he finds himself wondering, does Jhin have anyone to spend Christmas with? He’s never mentioned a partner or any family, other than Yuumi. Maybe his distaste is more personal than he lets on.

Or maybe Hwei is just projecting.

Lux would probably be going home for the holidays and, even though she’s always extended the offer for him to come with, he can’t think of anything more uncomfortable than surrounding himself with someone else’s family. He barely even knew how to act around his own.

He looks at his easel again, still blank, then to his phone, still on the desk.

Jhin continues, “it’s partially why we haven’t queued up any seasonal songs. I get sick of all of them after the first week of November. Perhaps that’s why I find myself in a rut at the moment.” Jhin gives a wistful sigh. “Nothing I put to paper passes my standards these days. My fellow creatives can relate, I’m sure.”

Did Jhin spend hours staring at his sheet music too? Wondering how to create something beautiful, something meaningful? He always seems so natural, the admission is a chip in the mask. It strikes Hwei as impossibly human.

A reminder Jhin is not the sun keeping him warm in the vastness of space but a fellow cosmonaut left adrift.

Hwei sits up and, before he can reconsider, he takes his phone and dials the number. His fingers tremble around the device as it rings, pressing it harder to his ear.

Then there’s a click.

“Hello?” he says.

“Good evening. May I take your name?”

“I- Hwei.”

“And how are you this evening, Hwei?”

His composure is rapidly depleting. “Oh, I’m…” Hwei gives a breathy little laugh, “surviving.”

Jhin chuckles and suddenly Hwei’s throat feels very dry. “A sentiment I’m sure many of us share. Now, what can I play for you, my dear?”

“I- I’d actually like to ask for your opinion on something, if I may?”

The beat of silence lasts a little too long before Jhin says, “Is that so?”

“Yes. I- I just… How do you decide if a piece is… good enough?”

His voice is so irritating, perhaps he should do everyone and favour and cut his tongue out-

Jhin hums, a low sound that seeps through his skin. “That is truly an impossible question to answer,” he says, but he doesn’t sound disappointed or, god forbid, bored. He maintains the casual tone as he continues, “what I might find valuable in a piece will certainly be different than what you do. Now, tell me, Hwei, what do you truly love about the art that speaks to you?”

“When… When I can feel how the artist has poured their soul into their work. So I suppose… empathy.” His chair creaks as he spins on it to look at his canvas. “How else can we find meaning, without empathy?”

Jhin is quiet for a moment, just long enough that Hwei nearly slams the phone down, but then he hums. “What an interesting perspective. How fascinating. Though if we limit ourselves purely to the artist’s intent, doesn’t that also limit the piece itself? A parent may have good intentions for their child, but they may also be that which suffocates them, no?”

“Y-Yes, that’s true. I’ve lost count of how many times a piece hasn’t turned out the way I planned.”

“That I can certainly relate to.”

Jhin laughs and Hwei does too. He feels a little dizzy.

“Now, as much as I would love to continue, we’ve not much time left.” Before the shame can take hold, Jhin continues, “What can I play for you this evening, Hwei?”

Hwei blinks, stares ahead blankly. The lights across the street glow green. “I… didn’t think about that part, I’m sorry to waste your time.”

Jhin tuts through his teeth. “Now, now, time enjoyed is never wasted.”

And oh, how his heart flutters. Words die in his throat before he can embarrass himself and he’s grateful that Jhin continues without pause,

“What if I pick something for you, Hwei?”

“I would like that.”

“I hope I don’t disappoint. Take care now, my dear.”

“Y-Yeah. Thank you.”

In the moments following, the dial tone is deafening. It takes him far too long to put his phone down. My dear, it feels much too tender. Jhin uses pet names for listeners all the time but for Hwei, it just felt-

Through art, connection-

As the song starts, Hwei slowly stands and turns to his easel. He opens the box of paints from Lux and takes a long, deep breath. His brush dances with the music, a quiet build of strings and flutes. In Cold Light is the title of the song, and the way the notes flow leaves him adrift in the cosmos.

Just him and his canvas, Jhin’s voice resonating in his skull.

The colours flood together, blue and gold and flecks of purple. Each brush stroke feels intimate, purposeful. He’s missed this, to simply be as he creates.

Soft petals bloom from his brush, a blanket of stars, two little figures adrift in the abyss between, reaching out to each other, outward to a blooming lotus above. Reaching for divinity, as one-

Or perhaps a new beginning? Rebirth, a cycle beginning anew-

Hwei paints through the rest of Jhin’s show, even as the music changes and the night grows older. Only when Jhin signs off and the station goes quiet is the brush finally set down.

He takes a step back and wipes his sleeve across his forehead, damp paint smudging across his skin. The canvas that stares back doesn’t disgust him, doesn’t horrify or torment.

It warms, it comforts, it inspires-

And in the quiet of his apartment, slowly growing orange in the sunrise, he wonders if Jhin would like it too.

-~*~-

“It’s beautiful.”

Hwei shuffles awkwardly as Lux marvels at his work. 

Whether or not his piece was beautiful wasn’t the point, is what he wants to say. He knows the objective quality is sufficient but what does it say? What does it mean to her eyes that it couldn’t mean to anyone else?

“You… like it?”

“I love it! It’s like a narrative, right?” She points but keeps her hands a respectable distance from the canvas. “These little blobs are being rejected by the flower and falling out into the black. Well, okay, that’s what I think is happening, but I could be totally wrong.”

Hwei only shrugs. The surface level analysis isn’t necessarily incorrect it’s just-

He needs something else.

“Seriously, though, it’s really amazing!”

“Thank you. Do… you think your aunt would find it satisfactory?”

She whirls on him, eyes huge and grin even brighter. “You’re submitting?!”

“Do you think it’s good enough?”

Lux opens her arms, an invitation one he takes. He likes her hugs, they’re always warm and slightly too tight. Hwei squeezes back just as hard.

Wonders how hard he’d have to squeeze to crack her bones. The thought is an ice cold blade straight into his skull and he swallows the tide of nausea that follows.

“Alright, mister,” Lux says as she finally pulls away, “Just because you’re casually making masterpieces doesn’t mean I’m going to forgive this!” She gestures wildly around the room and he blinks. 

“What?”

“Your place is a mess! C’mon, we’re gonna clean up, right now! I don’t care if you had plans-”

-~*~-

Would stepping out into traffic be more tolerable than the knowledge that people would see, and by this point had already seen, his art? Probably, but Hwei hadn’t seen a big enough truck on his way over so that plan was a bust.

Lux is waiting for him when he finally arrives at the gallery, grinning ear to ear, and Hwei is made painfully aware of how underdressed he is.

It’s his own fault, really, Lux had said it would be formal dress, but he didn’t own anything that could even be considered close to formal. Got rid of most of it when he left home. Formal for Hwei usually meant brushing his hair and tossing on a jacket. He tugs at his collar and tries very hard to stand up straight, ignoring how his spine cracks and pops with the effort.

“How are you feeling?” Lux asks as she holds the door for him.

Terrified, queasy, disgusting-

“Tired,” he settles on, nodding his thanks as he scurries through.

Lux snorts. “You’re always tired.”

Well, she’s not wrong.

The walls are pure white, floors a perfectly polished hardwood, and both so spotless that Hwei keeps looking behind him to ensure he hasn’t left any blemishes behind. When he isn’t obsessively inspecting his own trail, he finds it hard to pick just one piece to admire.

How can he possibly when each of them is such a pure representation of the creator’s soul?

He’s happy to have Lux there, if anything for the different perspective. She lingers for longer at pieces he only gives a minute of time, enamoured. They only voice their opinions occasionally for a particularly striking work, but it’s nice to have her by his side as they stroll through the exhibits.

Occasionally, there’s the sudden urge to plunge a blade through the canvases, to topple over the sculptures, but he stifles them, covering his mouth and swallowing the bile that threatens his throat.

They’ve made it about halfway through the exhibition when an elbow suddenly jabs into his side and Lux waves a hand. “Hwei, look, look, look!” She whispers, dragging him across the hall to-

Ah, that’s his.

It’s different under the artificial light of the gallery. Hwei isn’t fond of how it reflects on his shades of purple, but it does bring out the gold- it’s not bad, just different. It feels a little surreal, seeing his work somewhere other than his own apartment. There’s a layer of disconnect that feels… weird in a way he can’t place. Lux doesn’t say anything, simply lets him be in the moment, but it’s impossible to miss her blinding smile just in his periphery.

Shoes click against the hard floor behind them and they both turn to the approaching man. He’s quite a bit taller than Lux, and even she isn’t short by any means, with shoulders so wide that Hwei wonders how he hasn’t knocked over any sculptures yet.

Okay, that was a little mean-

The man rights his posture once he reaches them. “Lux.”

“Garen!”

“Inside voice, please!” The man, Garen, jabs a finger toward her and looks around frantically. “And no running! If Uncle Eldred catches you, he will have a fit-”

“Oh, pish-posh,” Lux says with a wave of her hand, “Uncle Eldred will have a fit if the centrepiece is half an inch to the left.”

Garen stiffens and clears his throat. He finally pays Hwei a glance. “Ah, are you- you must be Mr Lukai. Lux- Luxanna has told me a lot about you.”

The emphasis on his title strikes him as a little odd, but he tries his best to ignore it. “Hwei is fine, thank you. Garen is it?”

“Urh, yes. I’m Luxanna’s brother.”

He takes Garen’s offered hand and tries not to think about how clammy the larger palm feels around his. Hwei is sure his smile looks as awkward as it feels. 

The silence that follows is so unbearable that Hwei is sure plucking each of his fingernails one by one would be less painful.

“Garen,” Lux says, mercifully breaking it, “this is actually Hwei’s piece! What do you think?”

Garen’s mouth opens and closes a few times, reminiscent of a fish in a filthy aquarium. Finally, he says, “It’s certainly- abstract.”

“It's actually impressionist,” Lux says, beaming a grin to Hwei, “right?”

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I guess so.”

“Ah. It’s… well,” Garen fumbles, rubbing at his chin, “it’s very… urh…”

His jaw clenches as Lux’s grip on his arm tightens like a tourniquet. “It’s very…?” she prompts, her smile bordering on manic.

Even though he’s standing there in his family’s gallery wearing a suit that probably cost more than Hwei’s monthly rent, he can’t help but feel a little bad. All this stuff is very clearly not Garen’s forte, eyes darting about as he finally forces out a,

“It’s um, colourful?”

Lux blinks once, twice, then she turns to Hwei. “Could you excuse us?” she says with one last smile before she drags her brother away.

Once they’re just out of earshot, she bombards him with a tirade, every word shrinking him back further as he attempts to form apologies.

Hwei watches for a moment longer before he sighs and steps back-

And crashes straight into the man behind him.

“Oh, I’m sorry-”

“No, it’s my fault, I thought you’d heard me.”

Hwei scrambles to stand back, ensuring the man is unscathed. He brushes himself off as his eyes crease with a smile. The man has a medical mask over the lower half of his face, not an uncommon sight with flu season at its peak. His right arm is kept under his jacket, his left holding a metal cane. Part of him wonders how long he’d be able to walk without it and Hwei scolds himself again.

“Are you alright?”

“Quite fine, I assure you.”

His voice sinks into his bones like falling into a hot bath at the end of a long day. A voice that’s been so intimately familiar over the past two months of his life.

Hwei realises he’s staring and swallows another apology. “Have we, um, met?”

The man tilts his head. “I don’t believe so. I feel as though I’d remember your face if we had.”

“No, I mean- are you Jhin?”

Recognition flashes behind those eyes. “What’s your name?”

“Hwei.”

“A pleasure. I see you’ve escaped your rut,” the man- Jhin says, gesturing with his cane, “And my, I’m glad that you did.”

“Do you like it?” Hwei cringes. Could he be any more needy?

Jhin takes a few steps past Hwei, never taking his eyes away from the canvas. He does put a little weight onto the cane as he walks, so it seems to not just be an aesthetic choice. He taps it on the ground, four times in all, the sounds reverberating through the hall. “Like is a little simplistic, but I suppose so, yes.”

From the corner of his eye, he spots a blonde head and a frantically waving arm. Hwei glances over and Lux is grinning back, gesturing toward him and shooting him a pair of thumbs up. All he can manage in return is an awkward little wave.

“Though I don’t love it,” Jhin says plainly, “There’s potential here, but something is missing.”

Hwei bristles. “And what would that be?”

“Even I’m unsure,” Jhin says, still not paying him a glance, “Tell me, how did you feel when you made this?”

Hwei shrugs, because he isn’t sure what else to do. He twists his hands into the fabric of his jacket and tilts his head so more of his hair covers his face. “Oh, you know.”

“No. I don’t.” The cane taps against the floor again, once, twice, three times, four times. “Explain your thought process.”

His head is throbbing, pounding. Pressure builds behind his eyes as Hwei wracks his brain for an acceptable answer. Is there anything he could say that wouldn’t be utterly pathetic? I projected my own insecurity onto a person I’ve never met. I thought of the two of us ascending to divinity, reborn in a form that could comprehend us as we are. 

“I felt… Inadequate,” Hwei says, an admission that leaves something dark coiling in his gut, “I’d been trying to create something, anything that wouldn’t disgust me for months. I- I figured if anyone would understand, it would be you.”

He can’t bring himself to look at Jhin, so he just stares at the two little figures. There’s no discernable features, he only sees them as humans since that was his intent when he painted them, just two blobs on a sea of black.

“I see. How fascinating.”

The voice jolts him from his thoughts and when he looks up, Jhin is gazing back.

“I do wish to learn more of how that mind of yours works, Hwei, if you don’t mind.”

Hwei smiles. “I don’t.”

Perhaps he is dreaming, or perhaps only adrift. 

-~*~-

Having a second contact in his phone makes the whole thing feel very official. They aren’t friends, it doesn’t feel right to call their relationship that given they’ve technically just met, but they’re connected. Somehow that feels… intimate.

Hwei still listens to his show, but the dynamic is different. There’s the knowledge that there’s a part of Jhin that’s his, that none of his other listeners will ever see. A selfish part of him that his parents and teachers wish they’d stripped from him, the part of him that wants and yearns.

For companionship, for understanding, for warmth, for viscera-

So Hwei, selfishly, texts Jhin quite a bit, though he vastly prefers when they get to call. Jhin tells him more about his compositions, his ever fitful muse, what sort of tomfoolery Yuumi has gotten up to. Hwei in turn offers what he thinks could be interesting; the progress of his own work, his schooling, any sort of gossip from Lux he thinks Jhin might find amusing.

It is not lost on him that neither of them broach the topic of family.

On New Year’s Eve, Jhin has no show planned for later so Hwei takes the initiative to call him first.

“How is my little starling this evening?” Jhin says through the receiver.

It’s probably a blessing that they haven’t met in person again, since it gives Hwei some time to desensitise to all the pet names he’s been showered in. “How did you know I’d be at home?”

“Hwei, don’t make me laugh. You don’t go out.”

He’s right, and it should probably be concerning how well Jhin knows him already. Hwei sighs. “What about you? Don’t you have any plans?”

“My plans are to be in bed by eleven.”

Hwei laughs. “Those ambitions are certainly admirable.”

There’s a little shuffle as Jhin presumably settles onto his sofa. Or maybe it’s an armchair? Hwei can just picture Jhin having a cosy little nook by a grand fireplace. 

“What about tomorrow?” he asks. Hwei frowns.

“What about tomorrow?”

“Have you any plans?”

Hwei pretends to think, so as not to seem too desperate. “No, nothing really.”

“Then perhaps you’d like to join me for a walk. Nothing too strenuous, I assure you.”

“You- Yeah. That… That sounds nice.”

“Do try to sound a little more enthused.”

“I’d like to!” Hwei quickly clarifies, “I just wasn’t really expecting it.”

Jhin chuckles. “I have to get you out of your cave somehow, darling.”

Hwei rolls his eyes at the teasing, suppressing the heat in his cheeks at that blasted endearment. “I would love to go for a walk with you.”

“Excellent. I’ll send you the time and place. See you tomorrow, my dear.”

After they hang up, Hwei smothers his face into his pillow and kicks his feet like he’s twelve again. It’s not a date, he reminds himself, just a walk with his not quite friend.

Just a walk-

-~*~-

Hwei’s only been waiting in the park for a minute before uncertainty rears its ugly head. Is he overdressed? Underdressed? It’s just a walk, after all, it’s not anything more serious. Just a walk!

A stroll, a saunter, a-

Hwei has to find the nearest bench to sit down before the blood rushing to his head makes him keel over.

He takes a long steady breath. It’s fine. Is his hair okay? He’d brushed it and pinned it back this morning but does it look like he’s trying too hard? Maybe he should take the pin out- No, then it would look too messy, like he hadn’t even bothered. What about his face? He’d put too much makeup on trying to hide his dark eyes and sallow skin. He probably looks like a clown. What if-

“You look rather out of sorts, poor thing.”

Hwei jumps to his feet with far too much haste and sways for a moment. Jhin reaches out but Hwei, foolishly, waves him off, staggering until he can steady himself on the back of the bench.

“I’m okay! I just- I’m a little under the weather.”

Jhin frowns. “If you felt poorly, we could have rescheduled.”

“No!” He blurts out, then just as quickly reigns himself back, “I’ll be fine, really! The fresh air will do me some good.”

A sceptical brow is raised. “If you insist, but do let me know if you need to rest.”

Jhin isn’t dressed overly formal by any means, but he’s effortlessly stylish in a way Hwei can’t help but envy. He also isn’t wearing a face mask today, Hwei realises, and tries not to focus too much on that. Though given how perfect it is, that’s definitely a tall order. 

But it isn’t perfect, not really. Jhin has laugh lines, he has a few odd grey hairs, crows feet. Yet another chip in the armour, yet another weight dragging him back to earth with the rest of humanity.

It would all rot the same as Hwei.

They set off not long after. The park is quiet, they only encounter a few odd people walking their dogs or joggers. Otherwise, they’d be undisturbed if not for the cool breeze and chirping birds.

They talk about all manner of things, art and music and literature. Their conversation flows as naturally as ever, from one subject to the next like a steady forest stream. The pretence of shyness is quickly abandoned, Hwei no longer reigning himself back to normalcy as they chatter away.

On occasion, though, he catches Jhin whispering to himself, counting his steps. One, two, three, four. One, two, three, four. Hwei makes a point to only broach conversation in the breaks between, otherwise he’s met by a momentary look of confusion. Jhin is quick to push it away, but it bothers him all the same, as does how Jhin is leaning heavier on his cane than he had last time. He needs to stop every so often, though does so under the guise of gesturing to something or to check on Hwei’s ‘illness,’ but Hwei can see how his expression shifts, how he clenches his jaw.

“Can we sit for a while?” Hwei asks as they approach another bench, “I’m a little tired,” he lies.

His suspicions are confirmed when Jhin accepts without even a playful jab.

As they rest, Jhin tilts his head back just so and furrows his brows, breaths coming in quiet little pants. When he catches Hwei staring, he sits up properly and smiles, all semblance of vulnerability discarded like a costume.

“Ah, I wasn’t expecting it to be quite so cold,” he says casually. Hwei doesn’t believe him, but nods anyway.

“Not to worry. We could get a coffee or something instead if you prefer?”

“No, this is nice.” Jhin shifts his weight a little, taps with his cane, one, two, three, four. Hwei wants to ask about that, but decides now is not the time.

He’s not sure when there will be a good time.

“Does that help you focus?”

Jhin blinks, takes a moment to compose himself, then clears his throat and holds the handle in both hands. “In a sense, yes.”

“That’s good. That- you have a way of calming yourself, I mean.”

Jhin is still staring at him, jaw set. Something flashes across his eyes and he finally relieves Hwei from his intense gaze. “Yes, I suppose.”

“So,” Hwei says, desperate for a reprieve, “how do you know the Crownguards?”

“Hm? Ah, I unfortunately know Eldred through prior business. Thoroughly insufferable man, but it pays to have connections.” Jhin’s nose wrinkles in disgust. “And yourself?”

“I’m friends with Lux- Luxanna, sorry. She recommended I submit a piece.”

Jhin hums. “Then I have young Miss Crownguard to thank for your company.”

That leaves his breath stuttering and his lips slightly agape. Hwei takes a moment to still his pounding heart. “I… I don’t know what to say.”

Jhin tilts his head. “Then let us enjoy the peace.”

He does, and there they stay in their corner of the world. Just for a little longer.

-~*~-

It’s Jhin’s birthday at the start of February. Now Jhin hadn’t exactly told him that, Hwei just remembers him mentioning it during one of his shows and had made note just in case.

Because that was a normal thing to do.

Though it does leave him with a conundrum; what on earth could he get Jhin as a present?

“Well, have you asked him?” Lux says as they stroll down the street, window shopping for ideas. She nestles her chin further into her jacket, breaths rising in little clouds.

Hwei turns to her. “I can’t just ask him. I’ll look like I’m trying too hard.”

“Urgh, fine. Does he have anything on his wish list? Mentioned any retro vintage album he’s been looking for or…?”

“No, he wants for nothing.”

“Great! So get him something he needs!”

“He already has everything he could ever need and the money to get the few things he doesn’t.”

Lux tugs off a glove with her teeth to send a quick text to someone before she replies. “Okay… so we need something that only you could give him…”

Oh, don’t-

She snaps her fingers. “You should paint him something!”

Hwei looks at her like a deer in headlights. “No, absolutely not.”

“Why not? I’m sure he’d love it! He loved your piece at the exhibition, right?”

“Well, no. He said he liked it.”

Lux waves a hand. “Same difference.”

No, Hwei thinks, there is a very real distinct difference.

“What would I even paint?”

“Well, why not just paint how he makes you feel?”

Lux probably expects sweetness and rainbows and a dozen other cheesy things from romcoms. As if his feelings about Jhin would ever be so straightforward.

The idea is nice, but there’s that constant coil of doubt. It’s all well and good pouring his heart onto the page, but what if Jhin hates it?

Or, worse, if he doesn’t love it?

-~*~-

When Hwei looks at himself in the bathroom mirror, he finds he doesn’t really recognise himself. He knows the person he sees is him in a physical sense, but it still doesn’t feel like his body.

His body is… practical. It carries him dutifully to wherever he needs to go and only breaks down when he doesn’t sleep for three days or tries to subsist purely on caffeine. He’s never really considered himself ugly, or beautiful for that matter. He’s always just existed, in a body that doesn’t quite feel like his.

He showers, the water too far hot, dead skin flaking away when he scrubs. It leaves him tender and raw, blotchy and red all over. His hair is getting too long, maybe he should cut it himself again, the option becoming more and more attractive the longer he grumbles around his knots.

Then he looks down and is struck by the most obvious reminder that he isn’t a man. Not really.

It’s never really bothered him that much before. They’re just part of his body, same as the rest of it. He trails a hand downward, cups his breast and wonders if he should be disgusted.

He is a man, in theory and mostly in practice. Lux knows him as a man, but did Garen see a man too? Or did that confuse him as much as the art on the walls? What of the average person on the street? Not that their opinions held much weight against his friend’s.

But what of Jhin?

“Shame is the crutch of creation,” Jhin had said once during their late night phone calls, “if you waste your time worrying about what someone else might think, you’ll never make anything.”

Couldn’t his own body be an act of creation? Melding it into a shape that suited his needs? Couldn’t it be made into something beautiful?

What did beauty matter if the underbelly was rotten?

His jumper is only an afterthought as he emerges from the bathroom, hands aching, skin prickling. The radio crackles as Jhin’s voice surrounds him, his head pounding.

He claws at his chest, wishing his fingers could pry the skin from muscle, muscle from bones, spill his blood and guts onto his canvas. Desecrate the body that the divine had blessed him with, because how could a holy being possibly understand a wretched creature like him?

Maybe he could free his soul and find it a new vessel, one that was more whole, more appealing.

Or maybe, he thinks as he takes up his brush, he could paint one.

-~*~-

“It’s… different,” Lux says slowly, fingers tapping at her chin. She’s not had the chance to take off her coat, her nose and cheeks still slightly red from the teeth of winter.

Hwei picks at a loose thread on his jumper, watching her through his hair. “Different in a good way?”

“I’m… I’m not sure.”

Even he isn’t sure how he feels about it. The canvas is black, a humanoid shape taking centre stage. It claws its back open, bloody wings erupting from the wounds as it weeps golden tears.

An act of desecration to achieve freedom from the self.

Maybe a bit on the nose, but-

Lux looks at his canvas, then back to him. “Are you alright?”

Hwei falters. He doesn’t like her expression. “What do you mean?”

Lux’s frown only deepens and she takes a step back, away from the canvas, away from him. “I’m really sorry, I don’t understand what would drive you to make this.”

Hwei lets out a deep, long sigh. “There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?”

“No, no!” Lux says, “Of course not!”

She’s lying. Hwei sighs and shoves his hands in his pockets. He looks at his piece again. “What do you see?” he asks softly, hoping his voice is steady.

Lux looks at his canvas again, brows furrowing. She rubs at her chin and stares at it, even though her lips quiver and her shoulder sag. They’re both quiet for a long moment before she finally turns to him.

“I see someone hurting,” she says.

“Do you think I’m hurting?”

“Yes, and I want to understand how to help.”

“Understand?” His voice doesn’t sound like his own. Would it be easier to laugh or cry? They both bubble in his chest and threaten to breach his defences as Hwei swipes his dirty sleeves over his face. “I’ve laid it all before you, I don’t get what else there is to understand.”

“Explain it to me,” she says, though the effect is dampened by a lack of her usual enthusiasm, “is painting creepy stuff like this an outlet?”

Hwei blinks. “Creepy?” he repeats, the word bitter on his tongue.

Lux is still staring at him, so sickeningly perfect and pretty and free from blemishes. It must be nice, he thinks, to have a body already in the right shape instead of having to carve it yourself.

“Do I unsettle you, Lux?” he asks slowly.

Lux stiffens. “When you ask questions like that, yeah.”

Hwei laughs, but the sound is strained. “You know, art is most effective when it can invoke an emotional response.”

He doesn’t miss how her eyes dart to the front door.

“You’re terrified,” he says simply.

“Of course I am when you act like this and paint freaky stuff like that! Don’t try to scare me, it’s not funny!”

It’s like a thread has snapped. Hwei closes the space between them and lunges for her, grabs her arms and digs his fingers in until he feels bone.

“Is that what you truly think of me?” he breathes.

“Hwei, let go-”

“Did you always think of me as a freak? Or are only now being enlightened?”

“Get off me!”

“I don’t understand!”

“I said get off me!”

Lux shoves his against chest, hard. So hard that he lands on the ground in a graceless heap. She scrambles up backward toward the door, heaving desperately.

Hwei reaches out. “Lux. I’m so sorry, I-”

“I think you need to- to calm down,” Lux says, sniffling. She’s shaking and Hwei feels sick. “I-I’ll call you later, okay?”

She doesn’t wait for a reply, slipping her shoes back on and slamming the door hard enough to shake the walls. The sound rings in his ears, pounds in his skull as he gradually finds himself on his feet again. 

Hwei stares at the door, his head filled with cotton wool and lead. He rubs his face, the dry paint on his sleeves scratching against his skin. He sways, vertigo assaulting his senses. He wants to vomit, claw his eyes out, peel off his skin.

What is wrong with him? What isn’t?

Then he catches a glimpse of his easel. Hwei tosses it over with a heavy crash, no doubt further infuriating his downstairs neighbours. He gasps and wheezes as he stares at it. Maybe he should burn it? In this enclosed space it was extremely dangerous, but maybe then he’d burn too.

He’d deserve it, to burn alive-

Hwei stumbles back until he trips and lands on his mattress. He can’t breathe. He curls over on himself and clutches his chest, his mouth, drool escapes his lips as he pants and gasps. Tears scorch his eyes and scald his cheeks. His chest burns, his throat threatens to close in on itself.

His hand moves of its own accord, straining for his desk and closing his shaking fingers around his phone. He calls before he can even realise what he’s doing and crushes the phone against his ear.

It rings, and rings, and rings-

Then Hwei throws it away. It clatters across the floor, disappearing to some unknown corner. He curls in on himself even further.

His phone starts ringing. He crams his hands over his ears until it stops.

There he stays, until he goes numb.

-~*~-

A rhythmic tapping at his door jolts Hwei awake. He wasn’t even aware he’d drifted off, but he can’t bring himself to extract himself from the cocoon of blanket he’s found himself in.

He waits, for what he isn’t sure.

After a pause, there’s another series of knocks on his door, then,

“Hwei? I know you’re in there.”

Jhin’s voice should have been a comfort, but right now? In the state he’s in? Hwei hugs his legs impossibly closer, his other hand pressing over the ear that isn’t crammed against the pillow.

Even so, he still hears him, “I’m coming in. Even if you’re indecent.”

The door groans as it swings open, clicking shut shortly after. Jhin’s shoes and cane click against the floor with every step until they come to a stop beside his mattress.

“Hwei. Look at me.”

That voice which led him through many sleepless nights now forces him out from his duvet barrier, just enough to poke his head out and peer upward. Jhin’s stare is intense, cold and hard, but perhaps it’s the hopeful idealist within that sees something else.

Hwei sniffs and wipes his face. “Why-”

“You rang me,” Jhin says, “I was in the middle of something but by the time I could reply you wouldn’t answer any of my calls or texts.”

Hwei blinks up at him, then cold shame surges in him again. “I’m sorry.”

Jhin only hums, tapping his usual one, two, three, four with his cane before he places it against the wall. Somehow, the rhythm seems to steady Hwei’s own thundering heart as well.

Jhin crouches in front of him. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Do you think I’m dense?”

The speed at which Hwei sits up leaves him swaying. “No! Of course not.”

Jhin huffs through his nose. “Then don’t lie to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”

He can’t show Jhin. Can’t stand the thought of someone else pulling back his layers and being disgusted at what they see beneath. Can’t he just be low maintenance? Make everyone else’s lives easier? They already have their own problems, they don’t need his on top of everything-

Hwei glances up again.

“I… I made something awful.”

Jhin appears near serene at the admission. “Show me.”

That putrid bile in his empty stomach lurches again. “I can’t-”

A hand seizes his jaw hard as iron, the eyes that gaze down upon him just as cold. Jhin could squash him under his shoe like an insect if he really wanted to, but his grip is only barely on the side of painful.

He leans closer. “Show me.”

Hwei nods as far as he can and, once he’s released, he wobbles up to his feet. Wading through tar would have been easier than his trudging steps to the overturned easel. It takes some fumbling, but he sits it upright again, stalling for the canvas as it’s finally propped back into place.

His shoulders sag inward as Jhin’s shoes click on the floor behind him. Heat radiates from him, the sun in Hwei’s dark, endless expanse.

Of all the sounds he expected, a chuckle was certainly not one of them.

When Hwei works up the nerve to look, Jhin is standing with his arms stretched outward. “Yes,” he sighs, “this is the sort of thing I craved from you. A truer glimpse into your soul, not the sweet nothings you hide behind.”

There’s something about his voice, the way his words flow, it feels-

Wrong.

Hwei bristles. “What are you talking about?”

Then Jhin turns to him again, his eyes brimming with- something. His grin is just a tad too wide, the hand that finds a perch on Hwei’s shoulder holding just a little too tight. “You stifle your potential to make yourself palatable. I’ve been there, grovelling in mediocrity just to feign pleasantry.”

The fingers on his shoulder trail upward, digging into his collarbone hard enough to make him flinch. Hwei wriggles free. “Is mediocrity really so bad?”

A scowl creases his face. “Why would you want to subject yourself to a lifetime of never being good enough, when you’re capable of so much more? What are you afraid of?”

It’s so hard to maintain eye contact, especially when they seem to pierce straight past every wall of defence. To the shadows he tries so hard to huddle away, to keep all packed up tight and safe. The very concept that someone could not only see it, but look upon it and not cower is-

Exhilarating.

“I’m… afraid of the part of myself that stays in the dark.”

Jhin only shrugs. “It’s there, whether you choose to acknowledge it or not. Why not nurture it into something more?”

Hwei isn’t really sure what to say. The proposition seems so self-centred and conceited, so unlike him. No, he won’t- can’t feed the part of himself that dreams of tearing his own skin, of shattering Lux’s pretty bones, of slicing apart Jhin’s handsome face.

He would never- could never-

“What do you desire?”

The question is expected, somewhat, but it causes Hwei to stumble all the same. He looks out of his window, but he can’t see the stars tonight. It’s started to rain, fat drops running down the panes. For a split second, they seem red until he blinks. Hwei takes a shaky breath and wraps his arms around himself, a puny, self-pitying mockery of a hug. Maybe if he digs his nails in hard enough he could tear the ligaments free-

“Things I can’t act upon,” he finally says.

“And if I allowed you to act upon them here, and told you that it wouldn’t leave this room, would you still deny yourself?”

Hwei takes a step back. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Jhin follows. “Oh, I hope you do.”

Hwei hits the wall and his breath stutters. Jhin slips a hand under his chin and tilts him upward, their lips a breath away.

“Pain is such an intimate thing, isn’t it?”

I want your blood to soak into my floor so it will never scrub out. I want to shatter your bones so you can never leave me. I want to eat your heart so it will always be mine.

Hwei lunges for his throat and shoves them backwards, collapsing into a heap on the ground. There’s a dull thunk as Jhin’s head hits the floor, but Hwei doesn’t have it in him to care. Hwei’s fractured, chipped nails dig into Jhin’s throat and a hand comes up to take his wrist. Jhin doesn’t try to move them, or even resist, just simply holds.

“I- ah, I promise this will be much more entertaining if I’m conscious, my dear.”

“Maybe I don’t want you conscious.” Hwei tightens his hold and revels in the wheeze it dredges up from Jhin’s lungs. “Or breathing.”

Jhin is still smiling, even as he gasps uselessly. Hwei hates it, loves it. “You wouldn’t- ah, kill me like this, would you? It’s far too- simple.”

“Oh, but it’s so very intimate, don’t you think?”

If he squeezes a little tighter, maybe that would be it. Then he really could do whatever he wanted.

Even so, his grip eases and as Jhin heaves the air back into his lungs he trails his hands downward, nails scraping along the firm muscle beneath. He feels the minute quivers below his fingers, the heat of his skin, wonders how it would feel to peel it all back and marvel at the flesh.

Eyes follow his every move and Hwei wonders how easy it would be to gouge them with his fingers.

How does his blood taste-

Hwei doesn’t stop to reconsider, to doubt. He sinks his teeth into the junction between shoulder and throat. He breaks the skin, sighs at the copper on his tongue. Jhin hisses above him, a hand sliding into Hwei’s hair and tightening enough to draw tears.

It takes a particularly hard yank to force Hwei off, red staining his lips. He blinks a few times, dazed. Then realisation, as stark as a bucket of ice water.

“I’m so-”

But Jhin cuts him off with another harsh pull, forcing his back to arch so beautifully. He whines, a hand instinctively reaching to close around Jhin’s.

“I’m sick of you apologising for breathing,” he says, his tone neutral in a way that makes Hwei shudder.

“Sorry.”

“Now you’re just being facetious.”

He wheezes out a laugh. “You’d be prettier if you stopped breathing.”

Jhin only hums, mirth dancing in his eyes. “Keep going.”

Their position tips, Hwei ends up in Jhin’s lap, one hand on Jhin’s shoulder to keep him steady. Hwei ghosts his thumb over his previous mark, smearing the blood and admiring how Jhin shivers at the sensation. His other hand sneaks up to the back of Jhin’s neck and pulls him down.

The initial kiss is soft, like school sweethearts uncertain and petrified. Hwei isn’t sure who breaks the calm first, but then it’s all teeth and sharp bites and blood- He’s not even sure who’s blood he can taste-

He dearly hopes it’s a mix of both.

Jhin doesn’t pull away so much as he hauls Hwei back once he finally needs to breathe and leaves him to gasp like a fish above water.

Once he recovers though, Hwei tugs at the hem of Jhin’s shirt. “Take this off.”

Jhin tuts through his teeth, but compiles all the same, though not without making it an agonising trial of patience. Each button might as well be a mountain to best or beast to slay.

When the fabric finally falls to the floor, Hwei momentarily forgets how vital it is to breathe.

“Have I ever told you how charming you are when at a loss for words?”

Hwei shoots him a scowl and considers slapping him, but the contact would only be temporary, it wouldn’t be enough.

Logically, Hwei knows Jhin is not God, but that doesn’t make it any less sacrilege to look upon him like this, perfect in a way that leaves Hwei so desperate to claw and bite and scratch. He wants to tear Jhin’s ribcage open, devour what is his and his alone to always keep Jhin with him.

The only blemishes that mar his skin, save for Hwei’s previous efforts, are two scars beneath his pecs. Part of him wants to reopen them, drink in the blood that spills, but another lucid part screams-

He’s like me, he’s like me, he’s-

Then Jhin’s larger hands slide under his sweater and peel back his shield. Hwei freezes and squeezes his eyes shut, anticipation clawing up his throat like bile. There’s a sigh and Hwei feels the gaping maw of the abyss open beneath him.

“Let me in,” Jhin says, as if uttering a secret.

And the rest of the universe might as well not exist.

Hwei lets out a long, quivering breath, chest impossibly tight as he lets Jhin peel back his defences like the petals of a flower. He expects to miss the safety, but instead only the warmth. Warmth which is quickly replaced by Jhin’s hands.

Hwei so desperately craves for them to pry deeper, to carve out a place inside him. Perhaps he could offer his own heart, but what good would that wretched broken thing be to anyone?

He catches Jhin’s wrist and draws it upward, his fingers coming to rest at his neck, thumb brushing his lips.

“Destroy me,” he whispers, “and build me anew.”

For the briefest of moments, it is Jhin’s turn to lose his breath. Then he leans closer, and murmurs as a prayer, “Nothing I could create would ever compare to you as you are.”

-~*~-

When Hwei wakes, everything aches.

He groans and tries to curl inward only to bump into a warm weight at his side. It takes some convincing for his eyes to finally peel open and the memories of the previous night come flooding back.

Jhin looks so different when he’s asleep, his brow at ease and his lips slightly parted. He’s snoring, though only softly, hair rumpled and sticking out in odd directions. Hwei wants to reach out and brush it back down, but touching him might just break the tranquillity of the moment.

Though that’s when he realises they’re both still very naked.

With as much grace as he can muster, Hwei shimmies from under the duvet and down to the floor, fumbling about for his sweater and underwear. It’s almost suffocating to have them back on again, the fabric rubs against his healing bruises and cuts, but they’re stabilising, they tether him back to earth.

Still, it itches. This one never usually does, he’d hate to get rid of it. Lux had got it for him and he’d kept it till it was nearly threadbare. He twists his hands into the fabric and holds them there, staring into nothing.

He wonders where his phone is, if Lux would even want to hear from him after the night prior. She had said she would call him, hadn’t she?

A ruffle of fabric behind him returns him to the waking world and he glances back to see Jhin sitting up, blinking the remnants of sleep away and rubbing his face. It’s a spare moment of graceless fumbling that Hwei wishes he could bottle and capture on a canvas.

It’s gone just as swiftly as Jhin pushes his hair back from his face and raises his gaze.

“We really must get you a proper bed,” he grunts.

Hwei only shrugs. “I don’t mind it.”

Jhin pouts, honestly pouts. “Well, I mind very much, thank you.”

It makes Hwei chuckle. “Sorry it doesn’t meet your standards.”

“It’s a little novel for one night, but I understand fully why your posture is in the state it is.”

It takes a smidge more effort than Jhin would likely admit, but he does manage to rise to his feet with all the grace he desires. Hwei goes to grab his cane but Jhin waves him off.

“I can manage without,” he says, then adds a slightly softer, “though your concern is not unwelcome.”

Hwei huffs. “It’s the least I can do.”

It’s only then Hwei realises he has nothing to offer for breakfast other than instant coffee. He fully expects Jhin to turn his nose up, but he accepts the offer.

While the kettle boils, Hwei can’t help but stare. It’s not his fault, he reasons, as Jhin is adverse to putting his clothes back on it seems. He’s lounging back in Hwei’s desk chair, admiring his easel in the golden morning light, fingers tapping his usual rhythm on the desk.

One, two, three, four, one, two, three, four-

Hwei wishes he’d had the forethought to close his blinds, not to protect Jhin’s modesty or some similar ridiculous notion, but to hide away what should only be a sight for him.

He shakes his head as the thought crosses his mind and he returns to searching for a clean mug.

The morning drags with little urgency, as if the outside world has ground to a halt just for them. Hwei perches on the end of his mattress. Jhin is probably right about getting himself a proper bed, but he just keeps putting it off…

“Is it despair or catharsis?”

Jhin’s voice rouses him once again and Hwei has to take a moment to understand what the question means. Ah, his canvas.

“Can’t it be both?” he says.

Jhin’s lips pause at the rim of the mug, then he lowers it back down to glance at Hwei. “Do elaborate.”

Hwei peers down into his own mug, feels a twinge of displeasure when he spies a hair floating and picks it out. Gives him a moment to compile his thoughts into a coherent sentence,

“Despair because the life it knew is gone forever, there’s no going back to what it was before. Catharsis because it’s finally free to spread its wings and become what it was always meant to be.”

Jhin hums, his gaze drifting back to the canvas. The moment drags, but it isn’t painful nor even unpleasant. Hwei finds he quite likes watching Jhin think.

Finally, he places his mug onto the desk and says,

“I’d like to see some of your other pieces, if you don’t mind.”

Hwei blinks. “They’re not very impressive.”

“Show me.”

It’s not a demand, but a request. For once, Jhin’s smile is pure and Hwei thinks if he does not tear his gaze away he might cry.

“I have a few…”

[reverieparacosm]

Okay hear me out -

Love triangle

Reader x Jhin x Hwei

Imagine the two of them fighting for your love.... Chaos

(It's out!)

[reisaval]

things left unsaid

A JhinHwei collection of poems and letters from Hwei's perspective, after the events at Koyehn.

Read the fourth entry here.

[times-of-drought]

Heads Up, Seven Up

I was tagged by @trixierosewrites :]

I decided to share the starting fragment of my short fanfic sksks

I was wondering how to define a line, so I went for something that had shorter lines because of how it's written sksksks

“It’s almost like in the movies, just like in our paintings! Remember this. Look now.” It wasn’t.  I tried to glance at the mangled body of the hitchhiker (why did I agree to come here, to the mountains? I knew from the look in his eyes what he wanted to do. I could’ve stopped him) It was real, bloody. The foul smell filled me again. (where did this stench of raspberries come from? I look at the hitchhiker’s basket. There’s nothing there. The prince’s prize was not meant for murderers) I already vomited twice before, when he was doing the deed. (“Like in movies”, he told me, while skinning them alive. I never knew people could scream so loud) He wasn’t deterred by my reaction, just kept going.  You can’t smell bodies in movies.

As usual, I have no idea about tagging ;{ leaving this one open! If you see this and want to do it too, you can tag me as if I tagged you, I'd love to see that :^)

[anger-and-red-flames]

hahahahahaha Hwei asking Jhin to pls torture him a little bit as an art collaboration and to cleanse him from the dirt on his beautiful body hmmm yeah no I m so normal about them.

anyway.

[fourthwhisper]

Let's Dance!

Khada Jhin, the masked musician. He was known for his performances, and known for being the jack of all trades when it came to the arts. You are a cello player under Jhin's musical wing. You, and the others in your group, are taught by Jhin, and lead by him. Seemingly innocent, you follow along, playing your instrument in front of thousands. Everything seemed fine; nice people, creating music, mysterious musician that made your heart flutter...

You have no idea what you have gotten yourself into.

[thedubiouspeach]

Hey guys! Here again with another playlist I've made! This one is inspired by the dynamic of Rakan/Jhin in my fic PROJECT: Golden Lotus on AO3! These are all the songs I've found to fit the vibe of my fic (even if it isn't finished yet :] ). This playlist is also updated, maybe not as frequently, but still! Feel free to send me song requests in my Asks! Final Notes: I am considering posting sneak-peeks, excerpts, snippets, previews, or whatever you wanna call them in the near future since I'm tap-dancing across multiple fics at once (I really can't sit still can I?) So, if there's any previews you'd really like to see, drop me an Ask for that as well! Also, you can find the link to my AO3 and other social medias in my bio c:

[carcarcraziiv2]

HEAR ME OUT- JHIN LOVERS !!!!

The Fourth Chance - 🖤𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻 𝓝𝓸𝓽𝓮𝓼 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼🖤 - Wattpad

This is good okay I'm not trying to brag here but I really like what I am putting out on this one so far. Show it some love! Hell, if you don't know who Jhin is and just want a good suspenseful dark romance- give it a whirl!

Read the trigger warnings my little loves <3

[thomas-jefferson-miku-binder]

i think what bugs me about the jhinhwei fics i’ve read so far is the way they treat hwei. hwei isn’t naive. i think that’s a very important part of what makes the ship work, actually. hwei is tormented. maybe not as much as jhin (who is doing it like him really), but there’s a nuance to his actions and his feelings and his choices. it’s portrayed twice in his biography. first, by his deviancy from the temple’s curriculum, by his willingness to explore an aspect of himself that isn’t only harmful to hwei but to others as well. and the reason is selfish. he wants to know how far he can go, how good of an artist he really is. so he endangers his masters and almost kills them to simply test his abilities.

hwei is careless and so self-centered that he becomes distant to the consequences of his artistry. and then, when the damage is done, he takes the role of the victim, of someone who encounters these situations rather than entices them. this is not to say it’s his fault what happened to the temple masters because of jhin, but that the idea that he had anything to do with it is so unbearable to hwei that he needs, for his own sake, as a form of coping mechanism, to attribute the guilt to destiny itself. which brings me to my second point, which is that hwei actively seeks jhin, not to punish him, but once again with the premise that he “must do so”, that there’s no other viable option, no other path.

tldr.: hwei isn’t clueless, he takes a passive role in his own story and points to fate as the reason things happen to him. which doesn’t make him evil, but also doesn’t make him naive. he has selfish motives and that should be explored more often in fanfiction.

[tragedybunny]

꧁༺League of Legends Fanfiction Masterlist ༻꧂

༺ The Blade's Edge - League of Legends Long fic - Swain x Katarina - NSFW ༻

Blade of Noxus - Prequel to The Blade's Edge

A failed assassination attempt, a proposition she couldn't refuse, a temptation he couldn't resist. How Katarina came to be employed by the Grand General of Noxus.

༺ The Blade's Edge ༻

They had a simple arrangement. She was the weapon to be used on his enemies. Things get more complicated when emotions bleed into what should simple. Now the two of them find themselves on the precipice of something that was entirely unexpected.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

༺ Swain x Katarina - NSFW ༻

Touch of the Demon - Katarina wants to see exactly what the demon can do and Swain obliges.

The Bargain - An AU - ish fic where Katarina initiates a scheme to get away from her family just before the invasion of Ionia.

A Soldier's Discipline - Katarina has failed the Grand General and she must be punished

A Soldiers Discipline II - Katarina finds herself once again in need of absolution

༺ Swain x Katarina - SFW ༻

Moments - A fluffy little drabble of a soft Swain/Kat interaction

Loneliness - Swain missing his wife

Puppy! - Just a little crack fic featuring a puppy

Naming Day - Swain wants to do something special for his wife Katarina, but finds out it is easier thought than done.

Have You Ever Wanted Something, So Badly You Cannot Breathe? - Based on the final issue of the Katarina comic on Webtoon. written from Swain's point of view.

Swain comes to Kataria's aide as Marcus attempts to destroy his vision for Noxus. But the Empire isn't the only thing Swain is worried about, and he finds himself at a loss on how to manage the sudden longing he feels for another.

༺ League of Legends NSFW ༻

What She Needs - Ahri and Vlad are both Seniors at the Academy. Vlad has something she needs, Ahri has something he wants.

༺ League of Legends SFW ༻

Home - Katarina x Lux - They discover something more in each other than t hey ever thought possible.

Inner Demons - A Swain - Sylas Lore Fusion. Prompt from Curious Cat.

Darkin Reunion - Aatrox and Varus and reunited as they both have a homecoming.

Storm - A Katarina x OC Drabble I wrote for the 150 follower giveaway.

You've Always Felt Like Home to Me - Swain x Marcus Du Couteau - Swain has a lot of feelings about his oldest friend Marcus Du Couteau that he’s not really sure how to sort out. But tonight it looks like he’ll have to figure them out at last.

Her Light - Katarina x Lux - A poem about a very happy ending for Lux and Katarina

Performance - Jhin x GN! Reader - A reader with a crush gets to experience one of Jhin’s special performances. 

After the Mist - Katarina x Samira - Samira and Katarina are reunited after the black mist appears in Noxus. Set after the Ruination trailer.

Sacrificial - Aatrox x F!Reader - Reader is left in Aatrox’s path. The result will surprise them both.

It Can't Be Without You - Darius x Swain - Darius has a bittersweet musing on his feelings for Jericho at a dark moment.

It Won't Be Without You - Darius x Swain - A sequel to “It Can’t be Without You”. Darius recovers from a battle wound with Swain at his side

Alliance - Swain X Vladimir - Swain and Vlad have a tense conversation

No Turning Back - Draven X Riven - They are reunited after so long apart

Checkmate - LeBlanc x Swain - LeBlanc Has Won Their Grand Game

The Festival - Crystal Rose Swain x GN!Reader - A short little fluff piece.

[bi-hop]

4, 5, 6, 10, 12, 13 for the fic writer asks!

hehe alright

4. What detail in [insert fic] are you really proud of?

Hm. In general, I'm always pretty proud of the worldbuilding I do. Elf-made and gnome-approved T-gel in Only I See You, plays being forced to only have Noxian elements in My New Boyfriend Has Blood On His Hands?!?, even just the general fact of how subtly wrong the framing fairytale is in Birdcages All The Way Down. I like building off of a world or warping it.

... I REALLY want to say a detail of The Loyal Spouse, but I can't yet-

5. What do you wish someone would ask you about [insert fic]? Answer it now!

Honestly, for some of my fics, I just wish they'd get comments at all. Does that make sense? I have no specific questions I need in mind. I'm usually happy to answer 'why did you choose to write this exact moment/dialogue' questions though bc I always have an absurd answer.

6. What’s one fact about the universe of [insert fic] that you didn’t get a chance to mention in the fic itself?

I dunno if this has ever happened to me? I'm always saying shit in the fic directly. But lemme look at my notes real quick.

... Okay, yeah, if you don't read my author's notes, you will NOT know every emoji Laios uses for his friends and teacher. And so the latest chapter's joke might be confusing.

There's just no organic way to mention all of them without someone else going through his phone or something like that, because he doesn't see his sorting system as remarkable.

10. How do you decide what to write?

Copy and pasting this one from an earlier post. It really is just a matter of chance. As in, what am I interested in or hyperfixated on right now? What stories do I think that I am good at telling with this material? What stories do I think are missing in this space?

With Only I See You, for example, I just decided to write it on a whim. I wanted to write about university stuff in a comedy. And that’s what came out. The Loyal Spouse though, which is what I’m also writing right now? It’ll make more sense when the story comes out, but I wanted to write something I wasn’t really seeing being done with Kabru. And that’s all I can say.

12. Are there any tropes you used to dislike but have grown on you?

No one is ever going to believe this, but I used to hate stories where manipulative characters were 100 percent accepted in a friend group. Or got much love in general. Part of it, I think, is just that I was dealing with too much at the time. I was railing against the concept of manipulation with no nuance due to the relationships I was being subjected to, especially because multiple people were calling me manipulative to hurt me at the time. You can even see this in my old characters, where I'd always have at least one person who was wise to the cruelty and openly disdainful.

Obviously, now, I write manipulators basically everyday. Hi, Jhin! Hi, Kabru! Hi, [insert OCs] here! And they're all very different, of course, because manipulation on its own doesn't mean much. I could guide someone into giving someone else a scholarship, and I could also make it so they'd never consider giving that money away. (General I, not me. I can't persuade anyone-)

13. Are there any tropes you used to like but don’t anymore?

Hm... I used to read a lot of soulmate fanfiction when I was little. I got into fanfiction as a thing because I wanted to see two characters from that wizard school series (lmao) get together. And I liked the mini genre of fics where they were destined to be together, where the canon ships they were in were just mistakes or the product of manipulation (lmao, see?), and where they even all seemed to have telepathic links?

I wouldn't say I hate soulmate fanfiction, but the telepathic link and the use of gods to justify it as a thing isn't something I see much. But I can't write it myself or I'll be forever reminded of Harry Potter LMAOOO I can't win

[clefaiiiry]

Perfection, my dear

please mind the tags

thank you @/rabarbermupp for proof reading :)

Read on AO3

Read on Tumblr - Under Read More

-~*~-

When Hwei wakes, he is alone.

It’s an all too common occurrence lately, one that sits heavy in his gut and threatens his throat with bile.

He stares at the empty bed beside him, then fumbles for his phone on the bedside table. The light makes him wince and squint. Four thirty in the morning. He sighs, curling inward. Perhaps if he really, really concentrates, he could drift off again. It's a pointless endeavour, but he really tries his best.

Opening his eyes again, he reaches out to brush his fingertips over the mattress. He hopes it will still be warm, but his optimism is beaten down yet again.

So he lies there, listening to the rattle of wind against the window panes, the rustle through the trees. Is it reasonable to get up at this hour? Sleep seems like a distant fantasy, but maybe if he-

If he had not been holding his breath at that moment, he wouldn’t have heard the back door click shut.

Their front door always creaks quite loudly and is difficult to close without slamming due to its weight, so it’s not a choice made without reason.

Jhin had wanted to enter unnoticed.

Hwei steals his resolve and clambers from the safety of their bed, only pausing to tie his unruly hair back into some semblance of order.

The kitchen light is on when he reaches the top of the stairs. Hwei can’t quite see through the door from where he crouches, but he can hear the tap running and Jhin’s gentle humming. It was always such a comforting sound, so why now was it ice in his gut-

It’s nothing, he tells himself, Jhin always washes his hands when he comes home. It’s just one of his little ticks. 

Then the tap is switched off and Hwei retreats back to the bedroom as quickly and as quietly as possible. He throws himself back under the duvet and bundles it tightly around his shoulders, squeezing his eyes shut.

A few moments later, the door opens with a click. Soft steps pad against the carpet and the bed dips with Jhin’s weight. Hwei hears a little sigh above and a hand slides up over the covers, fingers playing with the loose strands of hair feathering over his forehead.

He lets out a sigh, playing it off like he just woke up. Jhin chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to his temple.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you, my sweet.”

Hwei feigns ignorance, rubbing his face. “Hm? Oh, don’t worry about it.” 

He reaches out, pawing uselessly until Jhin takes his hand, holding it with such reverence it makes him slightly giddy.

“You’re cold,” Hwei says. No accusing, simply an observation.

Jhin sighs. “Ah, I’m sorry. I had to check something at the studio. I was hoping to be back before you noticed.”

Liar, Hwei thinks. “Is something wrong?” he asks, and Jhin only smiles. It doesn’t reach his eyes.

“No, nothing you need to worry about. I’d hate for you to fret, my dear.”

The question hangs between them; where have you been, really? Hwei’s never had the stomach to ask. Of course, adultery has crossed his mind, but the longer this went on the harder it was becoming to ignore another potential explanation.

A handkerchief with a rusty brown stain, a bent knife blade tossed into the trash, a large bruise on Jhin’s arm that he couldn’t remember getting - Hwei simply disregarded them all. Ignorance was bliss, after all.

He decided he was better off not knowing, even if he couldn’t resist the reports that would spring up over the following days. How grotesque the crime scenes were, how even seasoned detectives could barely look upon them. The human body twisted into a vile display, one so utterly depraved that they couldn’t even believe a person could do such things to their fellow man. It could only be a demon.

You’ll scare yourself stiff reading all that, Jhin would say, but Hwei couldn’t help himself. There was a morbid fascination, one he’d long stopped pretending was self preservation.

And, even more horrifying, the growing disappointment that he’d never be used for such a creation. 

A spouse was too obvious of a connection, one that Jhin would be wise to avoid if he never wanted to be caught. He had too much to lose. Besides, Hwei doesn’t want to die, not yet, not even at Jhin’s hands.

Still, it hurt knowing Jhin had seen his soul laid bare, yet would never return the gesture.

Perhaps Jhin preferred it that way.

“You’re so tense, my dear,” Jhin says with a frown, easing his fingers through Hwei’s messy hair.

The tie-

“I-”

“You’ve been working too hard again, haven’t you? No wonder you’re so high strung. Here, let me take care of you.”

Jhin slides a hand down, teasing the waistband of his briefs until Hwei is squirming beneath his touch. It earns him a chuckle and Hwei wonders if this is how a pinned butterfly feels.

He wonders if he’d mind all that much if Jhin plucked his wings.

It’s so easy to let himself fall into the sensation, so much easier than drawing attention to the glaring blemish between them.

“My, someone is eager,” Jhin chuckles.

Hwei lets out a quiet, shuddering sigh. “It’s- been a while.”

“It has, hasn’t it?” Jhin’s expression is wistful, distant. “Such a fool I am to leave you wanting for so long, my dear. How can I earn your forgiveness?”

Hwei clutches his wrist and drags Jhin’s hand between his thighs. “Touch me.”

“With pleasure.”

Jhin lets him up, beckoning for Hwei to undress. He does so without grace or any care for artistry, shirt and briefs tossed into some unknown corner. If Jhin takes issue, Hwei finds himself uncaring.

Once he is bare, Hwei settles between his legs, back to chest, and it is not lost on him that Jhin is still fully clothed. It’s slow, methodical, those warm hands working their way down tense muscle. Hwei’s heart threatens to burst from his chest even at the barest of touches. Those hands are so gentle, it’s honestly laughable to imagine what they were truly capable of. He shudders, letting his weight sag into Jhin.

“That’s it.” He feels Jhin’s murmur more than he hears it, even as his breath ghosts up his neck.

One hand slides up his stomach, gradual and teasing, until it reaches his chest. Even as Hwei stiffens, Jhin only hums and presses his nose into his neck. He rolls a nipple between his fingers, pinching and rough, revelling in how Hwei squirms against him

“Jhin-” he grunts, jerking his hips upward in some meagre attempt to remind Jhin where his hands should really be. Instead it only earns him a firm hand on his waist, forcing him back down into place. Hwei hisses through his teeth, fisting one hand into the sheets.

“Now now, patience, my dear.”

Hwei huffs. “I’ve been patient. Perhaps I should satisfy my needs elsewhere if you won’t give me what I want.”

Jhin stills for just long enough for Hwei to regret the bite in his voice. The fingers on his chest ease their way upward, ghosting his throat. Hwei’s breath stutters as Jhin leans even closer, hot against the shell of his ear.

“Your lack of manners is most unbecoming,” Jhin says, distant, “Perhaps I’ve been too soft.”

His fingers tighten, closing around his throat.

Hwei grabs for his wrist, out of instinct rather than any real desire to stop him. He wheezes, squirming under the sheer force of everything. He could kill him. Maybe he would. Strangulation was certainly the most intimate way he could think of going-

“Whatever shall I do with you, you pretty little thing,” Jhin says, raspy and low, rolling his hips against Hwei.

Hwei digs his blunt nails into the flesh of his wrist, enough to draw out a sharp gasp. “You shall- do as I say.”

Jhin stares at him, then laughs. “I prefer you like this. You don’t suit being a meek little mouse.”

“Jhin-”

“Edge of the bed now, darling. Don’t keep me waiting.”

Jhin gives him a light slap on the cheek and removes himself, taking only a moment to smooth everything back into place.

Hwei coughs as he considers his options, then decides to do as he’s told. He slides down, and rolls over onto his stomach, stretching out until his toes grace the floor.

“Spread your legs. That’s it.”

From where he lays Hwei can’t see through his hair, breath coming in shallow gasps as he twists his fingers into the blankets. The hand returns, following the curve of his flesh with pure reverence.

“It certainly has been a while for your skin to be unblemished like this,” Jhin says, “a waste.”

Hwei tenses.

“Do not worry, my sweet. I will only have you endure four.”

Hwei scoffs. “You think I'm that fragile?”

Jhin is quiet for a moment, then laughs. “Very well, we shall go until you cannot bear it.”

The warmth of his palm leaves his skin and Hwei inhales-

The first strike comes before he’s ready and Hwei gasps, rubbing his face into the covers. Jhin coos with sweet affection, digging his fingers into the reddening skin.

“Count for me.”

“One.”

The second lands over the same spot, but Hwei only grunts at the impact, toes curling against the carpet. He’s quite proud of himself, really, he’s never had a very high pain tolerance.

“Two,” he bites out without prompting.

It continues onward, each strike followed by a harsh grope of blooming flesh. Each hit sags him further, sinking into the bed. He rocks into the bed for friction he can’t find, he’s not at the right angle for it to be satisfying. His hair is sticking to his forehead, he puffs some from his face in a feeble attempt to see.

“T-Ten.”

“Don’t tell me you’re flagging already, my dear.”

“You can hit harder than that.”

Jhin gives an amused little hum. His next strike is brutal, jolting Hwei half an inch up the bed. It forces out a strangled whimper, air wheezing from his throat desperate and primal.

“So demanding,” Jhin spits, seizing the loose ponytail between his shoulder blades and tugging back, forcing Hwei’s spine to bow, “you forget your place.”

Hwei swallows as he fumbles to get his hand beneath him in a meagre attempt to relieve some pressure. breaths coming in quick shallow gasps.

Jhin tuts as though he’d rather be anywhere else. “I never told you to stop counting.”

“Eleven!”

The rhythm Jhin finds is sublime, back and forth, each strike intense and igniting every one of Hwei’s senses. His sounds are unabashed and shameful between every strangled number. His skin burns and throbs beneath Jhin’s unyielding hand.

It’s still unsatisfactory as Jhin urges his head even further, his spine curving into a painful arch. Hwei whines, dimly aware of the drool running down his chin. His vision blurs like mixed paint on his palette and his words start to slur like tar from his lips. His scalp throbs as though it might peel away at any second.

“Now, how many was that?”

Hwei blinks a few times, swimming in and out of the warm haze, the low light suddenly too much. Then his senses return like a torrent of icy water. Shit, he’d lost count. “I-“ He inhales. “I don’t know.”

Jhin releases his grip on his hair with a huff. Hwei slumps back to the bed, wheezing and coughing. He desperately wants to curl inward, hide himself from his own failure, but he must stay put. Stay pretty.

“Oh, my dear Hwei.” Jhin’s footsteps are heavy as he paces behind him, cruelly kneading his knuckles into the red skin. “I thought you were better than this.” He punctuates the word with a particularly rough grope of his ass and Hwei strangles around a groan.

Hwei attempts to push himself up onto his elbows, only to receive a particularly harsh strike against his ass. He cries out, crumpling to the bed with gasping, frantic breaths.

“Stay put,” Jhin says, and his tone leaves no room to argue.

Hwei blinks the tears from his eyes as he lays there, ass burning, thighs throbbing. He reaches up and wipes the spit from his face, wheezing and twitching. He’s dimly aware of Jhin moving behind him, fabric dropping to the floor. He’s humming again, though Hwei isn’t lucid enough to recognise the tune.

“Are you done sulking?”

Hwei’s breath catches at the voice and he shuffles until he can peer back over his shoulder.

Jhin has undressed and taken a seat on the plush armchair in the corner of their bedroom. He lounges back, leaning his cheek on his fist, knees spread wide. It leaves very little to the imagination and Hwei catches himself staring at his swollen, dripping folds.

“How terribly flattering.” His expression darkens. “Now, come here and sit proper, darling.”

Stumbling on feet unfit for a baby fawn, Hwei wobbles over between Jhin’s legs, swaying for a moment before he, very carefully, lowers himself to his knees, wary of his tender backside.

“Ah ah, sit proper, my dear.”

“I can’t,” he grits through his teeth.

“Can’t what? Can’t follow a simple instruction?”

Hwei looks back up at Jhin and the bastard is grinning. His backside throbs with every beat of his racing heart. Hwei squeezes his eyes shut, inhaling deeply. He shuffles, intending to sit seiza but catching his raw skin with a high whimper. He jolts against it, gasping.

Still, he doesn’t settle his full weight against it, tries to just hold above even as he feels the heat radiating back at him.

“You really are trying me this evening.”

Before Hwei can ask, Jhin places a hand on his shoulder and pushes down, forcing Hwei into the proper posture. Hwei bites his lip, but it isn’t enough to stifle the noise that tears from his throat. Tears prick the corners of his eyes as the pain blossoms so perfectly up his nerves. The strangled little whine turns into a pathetic moan as he pants desperately, pushing against the sensation just hard enough to show resistance, but not enough to completely throw him off.

“There we are. You really are beautiful, you know.”

Hwei dares a peek upward and Jhin tilts his head, smile now warm and full off-

Pride? He wasn’t sure.

Hwei opens his mouth, tongue peeking between his lips. Jhin only laughs.

“Oh, you poor delusional thing. Do you really think I’d let you have a treat after that performance?”

He promptly snaps it shut.

“It is refreshing, though,” he muses, dipping the hand from his chin between his own legs to circle his cock, “having someone with the tenacity to bite back. Do you know how many imbeciles I deal with who trip over themselves for me? ‘Yes, sir,’ ‘of course, sir.’ It’s truly insufferable.”

The low pants from his lips grow quicker, groans grow louder. He makes no effort to stifle himself, sounds flowing freely as his eyes cloud. He’s much closer than Hwei initially thought, if the way his hips jolt up against his own hand are any indication. He presses heavier onto Hwei’s shoulder, producing a desperate cry.

“You, my dear Hwei, are like a feral dog. Unruly, messy, but with time I believe you can be tamed.”

“You wouldn’t want me tame,” Hwei pants out, shaking from the effort it takes to keep still.

Something wicked passes behind those eyes. “No, I don’t think I would.”

He doesn’t last much longer, finishing with a drawn-out, dramatic groan. He rides it out, slowing his wrist until his head tilts back against the seat. Hwei can only watch, bewitched by the way his throat bobs with every gasp.

Hwei wonders how his hands would look around it.

As Jhin recovers, he removes the pressure on Hwei’s shoulder and allows him to relieve the weight on his tender skin. Hwei pants and wipes his face on his arm, thighs quivering.

A full minute of stillness passes between them, punctuated by heavy breathing and Hwei’s quiet little whimpers.

Jhin readjusts his position and pats at his own thigh. “I think you’ve earned a little relief.”

Hwei wobbles up to his feet, attempting grace and poise. He partially succeeds, he thinks, raising his chin high as he settles into Jhin’s lap. Hwei hisses, but he manages to maintain his posture, even as Jhin trails his hand down.

Finally, finally, Jhin dips a hand between his legs and chuckles.

“There you are,” he says, and if Hwei didn’t know any better he’d sound mischievous. No, nothing so juvenile.

It’s careful at first, probing, almost curious. Jhin watches his face as he lightly trails his fingers between the folds. Hwei lets out a stuttering gasp, letting his legs fall wider, allowing Jhin to do as he wishes.

As he gradually picks up the rhythm, Jhin grinds the meat of his palm down into Hwei’s cock, finally gifting that blessed friction he’d been so dearly craving. Hwei can’t stifle the groan that escapes his throat, but he soon melts into a mess of sighs and moans, falling into Jhin and pushing his face into his throat.

“You’re perfect, my dear.”

Hwei finds himself struck by a memory, months old. Jhin had been torturing himself over the same line in his sheet music for hours, playing until his fingers were raw and still unsatisfied.

‘I think it sounds perfect,’ Hwei had said.

‘Perfection isn’t good enough,’ Jhin spat back.

Hwei wonders if that applied to himself as well.

“I- I can’t- I’m going to-”

“Shush, that’s it. Come apart for me, only me.”

Hwei grasps for him, his whine long and high as he is thoroughly wrung through. His cock hurts, his stomach twisting and cramping from the intensity of it all. He sobs, open-mouthed and desperate.

And Jhin watches him, enraptured by every breath and quiver. He whispers nonsense, honeyed words and adorations that should be ice but instead envelop Hwei in a warm, loving embrace.

As he recovers, Hwei is vaguely aware of being carried toward bed, muscles still shaking from exertion. He dozes, drifting in and out as fingers brush through his hair.

“You’ve made such a mess,” Jhin chuckles, though he only gets a tired whine in response. He pushes up to his feet. “I shall draw us a bath. I won’t be long-”

“No!”

Hwei throws himself forward, grasping for any part he can reach. He catches an arm and drags it in like a starved beast.

“Please, just- stay here.” Hwei shakes his head, attempting to compose himself. “Just a little longer?”

Jhin watches him intently, expression indecipherable. Then he lets out a quiet chuckle. “I’m sorry, my dear. I always forget how sweet you get once you’re finished.”

Sweet isn’t entirely truthful, Hwei knows. Clingy, desperate, needy, they’d all be appropriate. Maybe Jhin really does find him adorable when he’s quite so pathetic.

Jhin returns to his side, wrapping him up tightly in his strong arms. One hand idly strokes his hair, the other coils around his waist, his chin perched atop Hwei’s head. Hwei can only cling to him as his breaths slow and his heart steadies, no longer pounding against his ribs like a caged rabbit.

“There you are,” Jhin whispers into his scalp with a kiss, “my beautiful, perfect boy.”

Not perfect enough to be allowed into the depths of your soul.

Hwei closes his eyes and presses his face further into Jhin’s firm chest.

Perfection isn’t good enough.

[mangaka-neko-chan]

✏️ 🐸 💞

✏️ Have you ever written fanfiction?

I actually have! Like two years back I did a fanfic trade with someone and I wrote sth about my League OC and Jhin meeting, chilling and talking asdfhjgh, I try to not be embarrassed about it :'D

🐸 Describe your aesthetic

In clothing: colorful and pastel half streetwear-ish, half hyperfem.

In vibes: coloful and sparkly good vibes with a bite and a fable for dark, horror and dangerous things. Not in a "outer cutesy inside evil" way, more in a "fully cutesy making friends with the oppositeof that" way.

💞 @ your favorite blog

Aw dude, I don't have one fav blog. Rarely have one fav thing, rather many fav things.

I'd say all my friends' blogs are my fav blogs! Can't tag all of em sadly, some might not even be on here anymore or they're only on other socials but they know who they are~

[fandom-imagines]

I’ll always look after you.

Fandom: League of Legends

Pairing: Khada Jhin X Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, death (not Jhin or the reader).

Summary: When Y/N is kidnapped she is praying the Jhin will come save her. Will he?

Trapped.

That’s how I felt. In fact, that’s how I had been feeling for the past… it’s been so long that I’ve forgotten how long I’ve been here.

Days? Weeks? Months?

At this point I was being kept alive by the hope that Jhin, my boyfriend, would come help me.

We hadn’t been together long, only a few months by now, but I was praying that the three years spent together performing before that were enough for him to want to save me. Well, if he even knew I had been kidnapped.

The door to my cell swung open as a masked man entered the room followed by a cart full of steel weapons. My eyes widened a fraction, heart racing more and more with each step the man took.

“Are you ready to talk?” His deep voice asked, finally reaching me.

I watched him pull on a pair of rubber gloves, stretching his fingers before inspecting the tools on the cart.

“About what?” I asked, keeping my head held high and my voice monotone.

“Where is Khada Jhin?” The strange man snarled, picking up a sharp knife before pointing it at me.

“Right here.”

I saw the man in front of me widen his eyes in both shock and panic before collapsing on top of me, blood pouring from his head, leaking all over my torn clothes. His, now lifeless, body was tossed onto the floor and kicked to the side.

“Are you okay, my darling?” Jhin asked, kneeling onto the floor in front of me.

I could feel him staring at me from behind his mask.

“I-I’m okay. Thank you for saving me.” I whispered, looking away from him in embarrassment.

My face was covered with dirt and the bags beneath my eyes must have been a horrible sight. I knew without even looking that my hair was a mess. I must look terrible right now.

His hand raised to my cheek, gently lifting me to face him.

“You’re okay now, my beauty. I’ll always look after you.”