#maybe i'll do a follow up post with angsty ideas

[mediocretosubpar-soup]

Bodyswap

post-canon, wei wuxian, lan wangji and jiang cheng are body-swapped by a forest fairy who gets fed up with them traipsing around her sacred forest while quarreling. jiang cheng goes into wei wuxian, wei wuxian goes into lan wangji and lan wangji goes into jiang cheng.

fun ideas:

lan wangji is weirdly jealous because jiang cheng gets to know wei wuxian's body in ways, he never will. his jealousy gets more intense if jiang cheng threw himself between wei wuxian and the fairy's soulswapping beam.

wei wuxian is delighting in the opportunity to show off all his cool cultivation tricks again. leading to a lot of jianghu gossip about the second jade of lan's concerningly intense courting of the sandushengshou. when wei wuxian smiles brightly with lan wangji's face and laughs fully with lan wangji's voice, jiang cheng has the uncomfortable realization that he could under the right circumstances find lan wangji attractive.

wei wuxian cannot tolerate spicy food. lan wangji almost spits out his typical lan fair. jiang cheng thinks this is hilarious.

neutral ideas

jiang cheng rakes wei wuxian over the coals for not focusing on building a solid golden core and immediately starts working on it. wwx tells him that it's useless since mo xuanyu started late and was never much of a cultivator, only for jiang cheng to perform spectacularly. wei wuxian is flabberghasted, shidi how? then begrudgingly impressed with jiang cheng's ability to make the best out of what he's got. jiang cheng, however, believes wei wuxian is making fun of him and claiming it's not hard and it's easy and that anyone could figure it out. jiang cheng doesn't know that wei wuxian, lan wangji and a number of renowned lan elders have tried less successfully to do what he's doing. lan wangji is forced to endure being shown up in silence as jiang cheng genuinely believes anyone can figure out how to best cultivate when one had a late start. jiang cheng knows how to do this because he took anyone in after the massacre and taught disciples of all kind to reach their full potential.

[runningfrom2am]

Hi, how’s your day been going? Hoping it was amazing. I just saw your post about needing inspo for Coriolanus fics! I’m not sure if you are taking requests but if you are Could you maybe do a touch-starved Coryo fic? Something fluffy/angsty where Coryo can finally fulfill those needs and be himself and vulnerable with the reader. Thanks!

as long as you need me - c.s

pairing: coryo x fem!reader

wc: 1.7k

tags/warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, he just needs you and you just want to help.

requests (currently closed- feel free to send whatever but it will be a while before I get to them!)

nav / coriolanus snow masterlist

a/n: ahhh thank you for sending this in! it was so fun to write like stopppp i just want to give him a hug omg. also thought i'd post this to hold y'all off until i post the next part of LTPF. anyway, enjoy!

You had a very stable grasp of the limits of your relationship. What was appropriate, and what was not. You were quite shy, and Coryo always carried himself with a high level of decorum. You would eat together at lunch, and he would walk you home most days. The weekends, your study dates, were always your favourite. He was significantly more relaxed, but you could still tell he was just a little tightly wound. By now, you've just learned that's who he is. Not overly affectionate, but he cares for you and you care for him. 

"I can't stay late today, I'm sorry." You said, genuinely feeling bad for having to turn down the request. In your junior year, you started tutoring for younger grades at the academy and it is something you thoroughly enjoyed.

"I have a test tomorrow! Why can't you stay? Just for a few minutes- I just have a couple of questions." The first year, Aelia whined.

"My boyfriend is supposed to walk me home and he has a tight schedule, but I'll tell you what, I can meet you in the library in the morning before class. That way it will still be fresh in your mind, yeah?" You grinned, and she seemed satisfied as you agreed on a time, not knowing that a few of the girls in your grade were listening in.

"Y/N," Clemensia decided to approach you as Aelia walked off, Arachne and Livia following close behind. "Did I catch you telling someone that you have a boyfriend? Did I hear that right?"

"Oh, well, yes." You answered sheepishly, gathering your things to put in your bag before your next class.

"Really?" Livia chimed in, and you just nodded. "Okay, well, spill. Who is it? Do I know him?"

"Um..." You looked around, deciding what to say. You weren't necessarily keeping it a secret, but you just hadn't felt the need to tell anyone you went to school with. "It's Coriolanus. Snow." You cleared your throat, unsure why you even added his last name. It's not like the name Coriolanus was abundantly common.

"Shut up." Clemensia laughed slightly, eyes widening at you. "You're joking, right?"

"No... We've been together for almost seven months now."

"I just... wow. We had no idea. Seven months! I feel like I've never seen the two of you get closer than two feet apart." You weren't sure whether to interpret this response as teasing or genuine shock- so you just gave them an awkward smile and a small nod before walking away.

At the time, you had never considered how your lack of affection in public could be confusing to people- not that it mattered. Rumors had spread quickly after that, which was to be expected when Livia and Arachne were involved. However, PDA just wasn't your thing. General displays of affection weren't really your thing, either. Both of you always had a lot going on, and having been together for almost a year by now, you knew that you loved him and he loved you. You didn't have to prove it to each other or to anyone, there was no pressure for anything to change. On your end, anyway.

Coryo, on the other hand, was feeling something shift. Leading up to the reaping and more importantly, to the prize. You both were in the running, being in the top twenty-four of your class, and you had no doubt that Coryo was a shoo-in, but you didn't know how extremely anxious it was making him. The now constant thrumming of his heartbeat in his chest and his shaky hands were always less around you, and he can only dream of how much better it would be if he could just hold you.

These days, he'd wake up expecting you in his arms due to a particularly calming dream only to be disappointed. He respected you a great amount and wouldn't want to push your boundaries, however unspoken. Still, he wasn't sure how much longer he could go about his day-to-day without testing his theory that holding you could cure his fears, or at least let him forget about them for only a moment. He would happily take just a second of peace.

Coriolanus usually greeted you outside of your unshared classes, seeing that you tended to stay a few minutes late to ask questions or polish off your notes. He couldn't wait to see you, he needed to.

"Coryo." You smile, walking out of your lecture hall to see him waiting.

"Hi, Love. How was class?" Your boyfriend greets you, joining you on your walk towards the exit of the school.

"It was good. Though, I find the topic of the rebellion kind of redundant at this point." You say, books tucked against your chest under folded arms. "Is it not too soon to discuss it in a history class? I mean, I literally remember what it was like to live in a bomb shelter."

Your joke seemingly lands on deaf ears as he just hums, placing a hand on your lower back to guide you out of the building. This wasn't totally unusual, but with the way he was pushing you, albeit gently, was telling you that something was wrong.

"Is everything okay?" You ask him, looking up at the boy next to you as you reach the bottom of the academy's front steps.

"Fine." Coryo nods, attempting a reassuring smile that he isn't aware falls short.

"Okay, well... If you want to talk about anything, I'm here for you, you know. Always."

"I know. Thank you, Love." He drops his hand from your back to hold your free one, turning in the direction of your apartment.

The next afternoon, you're in the same class, one of the rare ones you don't share with Coryo, taking down notes from the lecture when there's a knock on the door, followed by it creaking open. You pay no mind, taking the opportunity to catch up on everything written on the board.

"May I borrow Y/N, please?" Your boyfriend's voice is scratchy and shakey in a way unfamiliar sounding to you, making your head snap up. You'd never seen him cry before. "Only for a moment."

Your teacher dismisses you, likely on account of your and Coriolanus's mutually spotless records and his red-rimmed eyes. Clearly, you were needed urgently. You leave your bag and your books, ignoring the whistles and heckling of some of your classmates as you rush to the door.

Coryo had reached his breaking point. He was writing his third paper of the week, unable to focus on that and get his mind off of how unlikely it was he would get the prize if the Dean had any say. Sitting in the library, the world had started turning around him. People were talking, laughing, even, and he couldn't take it anymore. The floodgates opened and he had rushed out of the room. He couldn't go home, his attendance would be affected and he'd be throwing away the prize most definitely. He had nowhere to go, except for to you.

You close the door behind yourself, thankful that the hallway is completely deserted during class time. "Hey, what's going on?" You ask, and before you can get a good look at him he's pulling you into a crushing hug, shaking around you.

You're shocked for a moment, pulling yourself out of your head to hug him back. Whatever is bothering him must be bad. He'd hugged you before, but never like this. "Hey, it's okay..." You whisper, rubbing his back. "Let's go outside for a second, yeah? Get some air?" You offer, gently prying yourself from his grasp to look at him.

Coryo can't speak, overtaken completely by the tears flowing down his cheeks and the anxiety flooding every inch of his body. He feels like he could be sick, all he knew that he needed was you. He just nods, trying to regain his composure, if only for the couple of minutes it takes to get outside.

"Okay. Let's go." You smile, trying not to show how worried you are as you wrap an arm around his back, still holding him close to you as if he has a broken ankle and you have to carry him. So far, his theory was proving to be correct. Just having you at his side was calming to him, and mentally he's cursing himself for not voicing his fears to you before they broke him.

As soon as the door of the rarely used back exit to the school is closed, he's essentially collapsing onto the ground, tucking his knees up to his chest and crying into his hands. You're quick to join him, draping an arm over his back and trying to grab one of his hands to hold. Your brow is knit with worry, rubbing his shoulder as he allows you to take one of his shaking hands. "Coryo..." You say softly, trying to get him to look at you but he won't. "What's happening? Talk to me, you can trust me. I just want to help."

He sniffles, looking up at you. "What is it?" You ask again, hoping to prompt any kind of information out of him. When he doesn't answer, you curve your approach to yes or no questions, hopefully, to make it easier on him. "Is someone hurt? Is it Grandma'am? Did something happen?"

He shakes his head slightly with every question, once again avoiding your eyes as he looks down at the ground, occasionally trying to cough out the knot in his throat.

"...Do you want to talk? Or do you just need a hug?" You realize, leaning in so he would look at you again.

He pulls you closer, wrapping both his arms around you awkwardly due to the way you are both sitting. "Just need you here." He mumbles, hardly audible as he buries his face in your shoulder and neck.

Relieved to hear his voice again, you place a hand on his hair and on his back, holding him tight. "I'm here, Coryo. As long as you need me."

taglist: @keziahcore, @soulessjourney, @kitscutie, @annaelise, @serrendiipty, @fratboyharrysgf0201, @totallynotkaibiased, @stelleduarte, @klplynn, @secretsicanthideanymore, @bejeweledreverie, @fals3-g0d, @gloryekaterina, @andrewgarfieldsbitch, @queenofspades6, @pepperonipastas, @ladybug0095, @lunamothwrites, @sbrewer21, @mus-tbe-a-weasley, @splxtscreen, @unclecrunkle, @karmaswitch, @rororo06, @coconut-dreamz, @nekee-lilac02, @ooooglymoooogly, @slytherinholland, @riddlerloveb0t, @lovedbalances, @notyourwildestdream, @snowlandson-top, @too-lit-for-fanfic, @utopiakys, @deafeningballoonnacho, @darlingisntit, @roosterschanelslut, @chmpgneprblem, @cosmoetik, @lauravanderbooben20, @dry0campa, @luclue, @lokidala, @urvampgfsworld, @carolanns-world, 

[woozisguitar]

hiii! happy 200 followers!!!💓 i just wanted to drop by and say your latest prompts have been so good and spot on, super loved them!!

could i maybe request something inspired by taylor swift sunbaenim’s peace for idol!hoshi x non-idol!fem reader? if it doesn’t work them something a lil angsty with that pairing would be just fine as well! 🥹 thank you!!

thank you!!!! sorry this took a while 😭 also omg I love how perfectly peace suits hoshi I was so excited to write this! hope you like it <33

requests for 200 celebration post: open

our coming-of-age has come and gone suddenly the summer, it's clear i never had the courage of my convictions as long as danger is near

soonyoung knew what he was doing when he asked you out. well, at least he liked to believe he did. not one to care about the public backlash, he was one of the few who liked to live openly and talk about the people he loved. he knew there were a lot of negatives in this job; he also knew he wouldn’t trade it for anything. that was until he met you. you, who swept him off his feet like a hurricane and left him stranded in the middle of nowhere. someone he found himself looking for in every person he encountered. someone he was willing to fight against the world for. someone he never thought in a million years would say yes when he asked you out.

and it's just around the corner, darling 'cause it lives in me no, i could never give you peace

soonyoung knew no matter what he did to shield you, his life would catch up quickly. he knew all the possible dangers the dates held. he knew all the possible dangers you could have to face because of him: the stalking, the hating, all of it. he knew dating him came with this life, and for an outsider, it would never be easy. the long tours, the sneaking out— all of it. he knew from the start he could never give you peace.

but i'm a fire, and i'll keep your brittle heart warm if your cascade ocean wave blues come

still, a small, selfish part of him wanted you all for himself. he let himself indulge in the love you provided and hoped that his love for you was fierce enough to weather your stormiest days.

all these people think love's for show but i would die for you in secret the devil's in the details, but you got a friend in me would it be enough if i could never give you peace?

when the news of this affair broke, the first response was to believe that this was fake. a pr stunt. people questioned your love, the past, the present, the potential future. everyone felt the need to give their opinions, to advise him, to tell him what to do and what not to do. but no one ever asked him what he thought, nor what he felt for you. because if they did, he would have only one answer. “i would die for you in secret,” he told you on nights when your insecurities got the best of you and your anxiety made you fraught. he knew the details, the facts, the whole reality and retaliation it would come with, scared you to death. you were worried this was going to cost him his career, his future. and soonyoung was scared too, but what terrified him more was the idea of leaving you. of leaving this: the romance, the kisses, the touches, the peace. would it be enough if i could never give you peace? he asked himself every time he saw you smile in the safety of your home.

your integrity makes me seem small you paint dreamscapes on the wall i talk shit with my friends it's like i'm wasting your honor

a week after the news broke, you got to work. you asked soonyoung to let you talk to the management about posting a few videos. most of these were videos of soonyoung talking about how he loved his fans more than anything and asked them if they would release a statement. one where you’d be more than happy to answer any questions. he knew it wouldn’t fare well—these people had certain expectations from their idols, idols who prioritize them over their personal life. but still, your hope, your absolute sheer positivity when you said, "maybe we can change their mind," made him love you more. on a certain binge-drinking night with his members shit-talking about the industry norms, he thought of you and how he would never be half as brave as he is now if it wasn’t for you.

and you know that i'd swing with you for the fences sit with you in the trenches give you my wild, give you a child

soonyoung vowed that he would do everything possible to protect you if this went south. hell, he was even prepared to leave his career and move countries if it meant keeping you safe. he was going to have your back for the rest of your life the second you decided you were never leaving him. he dreamt of you one night: you, him, and a faint silhouette of a child running around a white picket fence house. and he wasn’t willing to give up on that dream just yet.

give you the silence that only comes when two people understand each other family that i chose, now that i see your brother as my brother is it enough? but there's robbers to the east, clowns to the west i'd give you my sunshine, give you my best but the rain is always gonna come if you're standing with me

the day the videos were released, soonyoung asked your family and his to come over. he figured if things went south, it would be better to be surrounded by people who loved them rather than facing it alone. and soonyoung will forever thank the gods who decided to shine the suns of you because the people were more than moved by the videos. he knew they wouldn’t accept this right off the bat, but it was a start. soonyoung was more than happy with a start. he knew this wasn’t the first and would definitely not be the last storm you’d have to weather together. he knew that the rain would always drench you as long as you were with him.

would it be enough if i could never give you peace? would it be enough if i could never give you peace?

soonyoung knew he could never give you peace. and for the first time, he debated that it’s okay if he couldn’t. maybe the peace he so desperately chased for the two of you would always be the moment in between your chaotic life where you’d look at each other and feel nothing but bliss.

and for now, that would be enough.

[1000roughdrafts]

Dean Winchester X Reader Masterlist

Some of my works are 18+, which I'll write as such here, but please heed the warnings on the individual posts as well - All under the cut :)

One Shots xx

Angst

💙 Us - request: Can you do a deanxreader songfic to the song us by Regina spektor

💙Goodbye ~ After Dean takes on the mark, his relationship with Y/N starts to fall through the cracks. She’s had enough of him taking out his stress on her, and after years of silencing her pain, she finally lets him know why  it’s time to say goodbye.

💙How Do I Become Enough ~Reader and Dean right about her doubts, she feels somewhat isolated and annoyed. No cheating, necessarily, but think along the lines of Dolly Parton’s Jolene  

💙Intrusive Thoughts ~Dean was supposed to visit Y/N while she was at work, but when he didn’t show, she got worried. After finally getting ahold of him, she was relieved to know that he was alive. But when another full day passes by without a word, her mind goes into overdrive about what could have happened to him.

💙Voicemails ~ this is a small, angsty thing, and it is 100000% self indulging so please feel free to just ignore it.

💙 Illicit Affairs - Request from anon based on Taylor Swift’s song Illicit Affairs &lt;3

💙  Promise Me This Is Forever -  this is for @allywritesblog and #allyswriting event, and im using the quote "promise me this is forever" :)

Fluff

💙 Phone Calls With Dean ~ just a random thing I wrote for a story that didn’t pan out, no real plot to this.

💙Shooting With Dean ~ Dean takes you out for target practice, but something else is on his mind.

💙Time ~Soulmate AU, Y/N has had the ability to pause and unpause time for likely her whole life, believing she was the only person with such a power. One day, she learns that not only is that not true, but the other person is her soulmate. 

💙 Salted Baseball Bat - Anon Request: "'They said that gluing salt to a baseball bat to fight ghosts was a stupid idea, but who's laughing now?' you say as you whack the ghost again."

💙 Criminal - DeanxReader request from @rileynicole1967 based on the song Criminal by Britney Spears

💙 Cat-astrophe Written for @spnfanficpond​‘s unfic challenge with the prompt “I may have accidentally sort of adopted 5 cats.”fluff, stern!Dean, 

💙  Baby Winchester 2021 - Reader finds out she's pregnant, and tells Dean in a cute, fluffy way.

💙  Just Another Day - Fluffy Dean x female!reader Valentine's Day post

Flangst

💙 We're Gonna Get You Through This - reader is triggered back to a horrible memory and explains to Dean why waiting to have sex is best for her. 

💙Currently untitled ~ Request: could you do a deanxreader fic where she goes out on a date (maybe to a bar) for drinks with a guy and towards the end of the night, the guy (you pick the name) starts being rough with her cause he’s drunk and hurts her, then dean finds out somehow and comes over to kick his ass then admits his feelings for her?

💙 A Boring Holy Cross Tattoo - A Fic inspired by Cards Against Supernatural with the cards “Dean has 99 problems but ____ ain’t one.” and “A boring holy cross tattoo”.

💙 Amnesia - Request from @rileynicole1967​ : Deanxreader one shot or series ;) based off the song “amnesia” by 5 seconds of summer but in the readers pov and at the end he comes back for her and it’s all fluffy and cute.

💙 Half a Man - Follow up to the Amnesia request from @rileynicole1967​ - this one takes place the same night as Amnesia, but in Dean’s perspective and based on the song Half a Man.

18 + / Smut One Shots

💙Downtime ~ 18+, smut; After weeks of hunting the same witch, you and Dean decide to take a weekend break, but you didn’t expect what was in store for that weekend.

💙Punishment ~ 18+, smut; After embarrassing Dean at an important dinner, he punishes you with a cold shower.

💙 Size Matters - 18+ Smut DeanxReader request from anon, where reader has a size kink

💙 Poison  -  DeanxReader request from @kaitlaitlaitl​ based on the song Poison by Alice Cooper

Mini Series xx

💙 Movie Monsters Part One | Part Two ~ You’re teamed up with Dean, a man you’ve always found obnoxious, to find out the path of a new monster. Of course, things don’t always go as planned. (Complete)

💙 Never Have I Ever Part One | Part Two  ~ Part Two is pure smut; College!AU - Dean gets jealous of the attention he thinks you’re receiving from Cas during a small party at your house and doesn’t know what to do with it, so he leaves the room to keep drinking. 

💙 Hope is a Dangerous Thing... Part One | Part Two ~ The renowned author of a best-selling crime novel, Y/N Y/L/N, was thrown into a whole new world after her parents were brutally murdered. Their killer never found, Y/N took things into her own hands, meeting the Winchesters in her journey for justice. Even years later, she struggles to let anyone close in fear they’d leave or worse.

💙  i hate u, i love u (1) Slowburn au/Y/N has been in a relationship with Nick for the last 5 years. They’ve had a rough go. There’s been good and bad times, but she finally realizes that the man she thought she loved has been abusing her. Dean offers her a safe haven when she feared she had nothing else. (this may be abandoned, but we will see)

💙Reverse Supernatural  ~ request; “Hi!! I have been tossing an idea around for a bit… What if… Now hear me out… What if the Reader was the experienced hunter and she/he has to save Dean and/or Sam who have never known the supernatural existed…?” (only part one is out right now / ongoing / might also become abandoned)

Series xx

💙Family Secrets ~ 18+ ; Your uncle Bobby, and adoptive father Rufus, had a secret. A secret they never wanted the Winchester’s to find out. They had done a good job of keeping you from crossing their path, but now that they've both passed away there is nothing they can do about the brothers finding out their secret; you. (ongoing BUT I really want to and am seriously considering taking it down to rewrite it - this was the first thing I ever wrote and it's... it shows lol) 2/22/24 A/N: I want to return to this series, but since it was pretty much my first fic ever, I really want to rewrite some of the episodes and make it pace better. I understand that that might not be the best solution, however, so maybe I’ll just add inbetweeners or something. Just know I want to come back to finish it and may change some things along the way 😊

[romanarose]

Not a Goodbye...

But a shift.

I will not mince words, things are shit right now in the Pedro Pascal fandom.

For me though, nothings been the same since April. My notes DROPPED and never recovered. I'v been blocked by pages I never interacted with and people who used to be mutuals want nothing to do with me.

Things Ive been informed I've been blocked for is darking dark, using adult shoes in a header that everyone said were kids feet (they weren't), being Jewish so I must support genocide (im not im a hopeful convert and I've been very vocal about the genocide), supporting a terrorist organization and being anti semetic (I'm not, again, hopeful convert and I'm very vocal about anti semitism), fetishizing gay men as a "girl" (I am not a girl) etc.

It's just not fun anymore.

The Pedro fandom has given me a LOT. I've met many, many wonderful friends here who are just great people and friendships I hope last. Even ones that dont i value forever.

But i think my time here isn't what it once was. I feel safer and happier in the oscar issac side, or blogging about bruce springsteen, or star wars. I've decided to reshift my focus back to OScar Isaac/Triple frontier writing.

What will change?

Not a lot to start. In fact you might see even more P boy content at first! I have a few things I wanna finish writing. I need to finish blessed by the fruit, and a few WIPS i have, including super angsty Joel's

ROF will continue but Im gonna keep writing laregly TF fanfiction so that wouldn't change

You'll still see Frankie around as i love TF but it maybe more FishBen. Sorry to everyone who says I fetishize gay men ig

I might write more on characters around p boys. Tommy Miller, Steve murphy

And if I have an idea I love, if I wanna write it, I'll write it!

Currently I have 2 joel one shot wips i wanna get out

I deleted the tumblr app, I need to decompress. Im still here with my laptop when im at home, but less access. Just for a day or a few, nothing big.

I wanna work on my original works, including Mariposa and my TWW rewrite, stolen lullaby! I'll be posting less between that, the Zine, and this semester ill be in school full time and working full time plus part time.

follow @romana-updates to keep updated.

I love each and every person I've made friends with or interact with around this side of tumblr! If you dont wanna follow me due to lack of joel coming up, thats okay! I hope you had fun while you were here!

[crispyanonartnsfw]

sorry, still no new art, work has me tired af and I can't keep posting rushed sketches that I'm gonna end up hating (I'm SSSO tempted to delete some stuff lmao) but I have lots of wips and I'll be patient with myself and concentrate on those !! anyway-

Today I'm here to blabber about one thing that I've basically already storyboarded but Idk if it will ever see the light of day: a Sambastian coming of age(?) comic. I'm just going to put this idea into the world..

Mind you, it's really nothing crazy, but it's long enough to require a lot of commitment - that would mean not drawing anything else for a while, and idk if I'm able to do that while having the attention span of a goldfish when it comes to drawing only one thing at a time.

I could post page by page as I finish them, but my original (maybe too ambitious) idea was to make a Sambastian-centric fanzine to publish all at once, with the various chapters interspersed by some miscellaneous content. I looove the idea of creating an old-style printable zine, I'm just a big nerd for these things and I like printed paper. Realistically thought, the single-page posts are more accessible.

Technically it's an AU because it diverges slightly from the canon SDV universe, mostly in the timeline of the various families moving to Pelican Town. Also it adds to the relationships that all characters have with each other, to what school/uni they attended and stuff like that - which aren't as in-depth within the game.

The story per se is very simple: it follows Sebastian and Sam going from teenagers to adults, their struggles, the ups and downs in their friendship and eventually their romantic relationship. Basically it's the lead-up to Older!Sambastian. It also features other SDV characters such as Alex and Abigail (I would love to have them all if I ever expand on it). It's obviously SFW until they are adults, even if their experiences get mentioned and questioned...just know there is some Seb/Alex and Sam/Penny action lol. It's also quite different from what I've done up until now because this story it's angsty, like, very much so. TW worthy. Uncharted territory fr.

By the way I know I said it's long but it's not actually THAT long for now (15 pages?). The story is made up of snippets from different moments, like little windows in their life (for example there are a couple of scenes set in their first year of high school, but the following one it's set in their third year - some jumps are longer than others). At the same time this type of narration allows me to go back and add missing moments very easily if I ever actually finish this comic and wish to further expand on it.

I don't even know if anyone would be interested in this - except for me and like three darling mutuals who tolerate my ideas - but it would be such a cool thing to dooo ughh 😩😩😩 anyone who volunteers to be my benefactor so I can focus on fictional characters like god intended?? Maybe on a beach with a Campari?? I don't ask of much tbh

[alaskasmonsters]

Hi<3 congratulations to your milestone! 1k followers what a number!

I've really enjoyed your Gojo oneshot sooo much<33 it was the best thing I've read in a while tysm for posting it and blessing my timeline with it<3

As for the event... Can I maybe request one with Portgas d. Ace and the angst prompt "hold on... I never told you about that" ? Thank you so much for your work ily<3

𝖍𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖔𝖓…𝖎 𝖓𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 (portgas d. ace)

pairing: portgas d. ace x gn!reader

content: (light) angst, misunderstandings, abandonment issues, hurt/comfort, alabasta ace, ace is insecure (illegal), vivi being mentioned (she’s my bbg <3), happy ending

a/n: thank you anon 🙏❤️ i’m happy to hear you enjoyed the gojo oneshot that much! 🥺🥺 i hope you enjoy this too! <333 it’s angsty but with a small dose of fluff in the end <33 and it turned out a little longer than it was supposed to <33 mwUAH! <333

☁️ 1k follower event

Ace was in a bad mood. He’s been so since the both of you had separated from his brother Luffy and his crew a few days ago. At first, you had thought it was because of that, knowing how much Ace loved his brother and how, if the situation was a different one, he would have probably liked to stick around longer. 

You’ve been wrong. 

It was not just that Ace was in a bad mood. He seemed more distant and cold towards you. He wasn’t mean or anything, it just seemed like he was… holding back. 

The two of you got along great usually, Ace was a little bit of a flirt so he was constantly seeking your closeness, making jokes and teasing you. If he wasn’t talking himself he liked to listen to you, usually with a soft smile on his face and an attentive look in his eyes, like everything you were talking about was the most interesting thing he’s ever heard.

Now he was barely even looking at you. 

You had no idea what happened but you kept quiet, hoping that his mood would just improve on its own or that he would open up to you of his own accord and tell you what was bothering him. 

So you waited. 

It wasn’t until a few days later that the topic came up because you finally had a lead on where Blackbeard was, after weeks of searching. 

You hoped this was enough to lighten his mood but his expression just seemed to sour when you told him about your findings with a big grin.

You expected Ace to lighten up, give a thumbs up and a wide grin, maybe pat you on the shoulder and say a few words of encouragement. But instead, he met you with a cold stare, one that made the blood freeze in your veins.

You opened your mouth to ask him what was wrong but he didn’t let you. 

Instead, he clenched his jaw, and grumbled, “Let’s get this over with.”

Your face fell, grin fading completely and replaced by a twist of your lips. “What do you mean?” 

Ace turned his back to you and started packing his things together, probably wanting to get ready and going as soon as possible. “We’ll find Teach, I'll take care of him and then you’re finally rid of me.”

You gaped at him, mouth falling open in shock. “What? Ace, what the fuck?”

You felt confused and hurt he would even say something like that. Rid of him? What was that even supposed to mean?

Ace frowned, avoiding your eyes, slinging his bag over his shoulder. 

“We both know you only went with me because you promised Pops,” he told you, sounding like he struggled to keep his voice calm, “Don’t pretend.”

His words were like a slap to the face for you. For a moment you didn’t know what to say, almost losing yourself to the sinking feeling in your chest as your heart dropped to the pit in your stomach.

Did he really think that? Just because you made a promise to Whitebeard didn’t mean that…

You frowned, eyes darting over Ace’s face.

“Hold on…I never told you that,” you realized, “I never told you about the promise.”

Your eyes narrowed in suspicion, wondering how Ace even knew about this in the first place. 

Ace looked upset, disappointment and hurt flashing through his eyes as he turned to look at you again. You saw his lips jutting out in a scowl.

“Yeah, you’re right. You never told me that!” Ace bit out, clenching his jaw.

You took a step back, feeling tears gather behind your eyes at his harsh tone. 

“How would you…” Your eyes widened as realization dawned on you “Vivi told you.”

You remembered your conversation in Alabasta, how you’d opened up to her about your and Ace’s connection and the background of your travels. But why would she have gone up to Ace and told him what the two of you had talked about?

He must have seen the betrayal in your eyes because he let out a sigh. “Don’t blame her, she thought I knew.”

His face went back to looking upset, “Because why wouldn’t I? Why would you tell this to someone you just met but not me? I thought we-“

He stopped and looked away, never finishing his thought. Instead, he took a breath and said something else, “He made you promise.”

You blinked, the tears long forgotten as you caught a glance at his face. How hurt he looked. You didn’t understand what got him so upset, didn’t understand why he thought…

Did he think you wouldn’t be there if it wasn’t for the promise? 

“Ace.”

He didn’t look up and with a groan you reached forward and clasped his wrist, tugging until he was forced to look at you. 

“You’re an idiot!” You yell, making him look at you with an angry look. You wanted to slap his arm for this but you just tightened your grip around his wrist. “I went with you because I wanted to. He made me promise to take care of you after I already told him I would go after you and he couldn’t stop me if he tried!” 

Ace looked taken aback by your words. He blinked down at you, disbelief still present in his gaze. 

“I want to be with you!” You continued, driving your point home.

Ace stared at you with wide eyes. And you froze. Realizing the meaning of your words you felt your entire face go red. That…no, not…

“I mean, I want to- You know, looking for Teach- Not like- We just…”

Ace’s laugh saved you from having to finish that sentence.

“You’re so red right now,” he teased, old grin back on his face as he turned his wrist in your grip and took your hand in his.

You huffed, feeling your panic die down.

“I’m with you, okay? You got that?” You asked, looking up at him with determination.

And Ace’s eyes held so much warmth and joy as he squeezed your fingers between his and told you, “Yes, you’re with me.”

[softestqueeen]

✧*̥˚ 500 followers special*̥˚✧

hey guys, it's so crazy to me that i've almost reached 500 followers on my little blog! when i started about one and a half years ago to post on here i never would have expected this!

so, to celebrate, i want to do a little 500 followers special! down below you will find a list of prompts that you can choose from. i will write about the characters i always write, so mainly criminal minds, but also about all the other fandoms/franchises you can find on my page.

to request something is simple! you slide in my dms, comments or asks with the number of the prompt and the character you want me to write with it. you can also specify a ship or x reader, though i usually write x reader. you can also choose 2 prompts and i'll try to connect them!

but now i've blabbed enough, here are the prompts!

✧*̥˚ prompts*̥˚✧ angsty

"Stop looking at me with pity in your eyes. Stop it. Stop fucking looking at me like that!"

"It won't be easy you know... trying to love me."

"No ones ever like... cared about me like that. Why would you?"

"I didn't know where else to go."

"Please, look at me. Breathe, god please, breathe."

"I- I don't know who I am anymore. I'm scared."

"Maybe you should just leave now."

"Please don't make it worse than it already is."

"There are other ways to solve this, please don't leave."

"You don't need to do this, please."

"Tell me what I can do to make you stay. What I can say so you don't leave. I- I need to know how I can fix this."

"Please don't make me leave."

"I should have seen this coming, I should have know better."

"No, don't do this to me now."

✧*̥˚ prompts*̥˚✧ fluffy

15. "Ssh, stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair." 16. "I- I think I am in love with you." 17. "Don't be silly, I want to stay up with you." 18. "Everything is so cold and you're so warm. Please come back to bed, just for five minutes." 19. "Are you blushing?" 20. "You're so cute. I'm melting inside. You can't see it, but I am." 21. "Don't get up, I'll do it." 22. A keeping B from getting out of bed by holding them closer, maybe a few kisses here and there. 23. "Can I sleep in your room tonight? Is that a weird thing to ask?" 24. "I was so worried. It was killing me, not being able ot reach out and touch you." 25. "Is that my shirt?" "You mean our shirt?" 26. "I can't... I can't get you out of my mind and it's killing me. 27. "You make me want to do better, be better." 28. "You need to know that I've grown to care for you. Deeply." 29. "It's you, it's always been you." 30. "It kills me to know that you are out there with someone else." 31. "Close your eyes, I've got a surprise for you. Don't peek!" 32. "I never want to leave." 33. "I'd feel much better if you'd let me walk you home." 34. "I love hearing your voice first thing in the morning." 35. "Would it be cliche if we matched outfits? Just a little?"

✧*̥˚ prompts*̥˚✧ smutty

36. "Are you sure? Once we've started I don't think I'll be able to stop." 37. "We could get caught." 38. "So needy, aren't you." 39. "You sure it's gonna fit?" "I'll make it fit." 40. "I- I've never done this before, but I really want to. With you." 41. "... Or we could just get naked" 42. "Let me show you how much you mean to me. 43. "Please don't tease me, I can't handle this right now." 44. "Don't worry, I'll be gentle." 45. "I want to fuck you so bad right now." 46. "Oh I can do this all night long." 47. "Oh? Does that turn you on? " 48. "You have no idea how long i've thought about having you like this." 49. "Be quiet, or do you want everyone to know who's making you fee so good?" 50. "Fucking doesn't involve this much talking normally."

a/n: 50 prompts for 500 followers! also, i really want to write more wlw, especially with penelope garcia and emily prentiss (not as a ship per se, both are cm).

you can also come up with your own prompt and i'll include it!

requests open!

please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueeen

[angeliqueiguess]

“Focus!” (j.jh)

020. hope warnings: angsty, a hint of hope.

Jaehyun lay sprawled across the couch in his hotel suite, the steady hum of traffic and public transit filtering through the windows. The noise, though overwhelming, served as a strange comfort—at least it kept his mind from spiraling too far into his thoughts. But no matter how loud the city outside was, one thing remained constant: Y/n.

She was all he could think about. Every part of him longed for another chance, just one more, to say the things he had buried for too long. He wanted to drop the mask he had worn for years, to stop pretending and finally tell her how he really felt. But the idea of confronting her wasn’t what scared him most. No, the real fear was what would come after—what if she listened, only to walk away? What if, after everything, she decided to close the door on him for good?

The fear gnawed at him relentlessly, forcing him to play out every possible version of that conversation in his mind. He obsessed over what he would say, how he would say it, and whether any of it would make a difference. But no matter how much he planned, a voice in the back of his mind whispered the same doubt over and over: What if it’s already too late?

Lost in his thoughts, the sudden vibration of his phone on the table snapped him back to reality. His heart skipped a beat as he reached for it, fingers slightly shaky. He unlocked the screen, and there it was—the message he had been waiting for: "Meet me tomorrow..."

For a moment, everything around him faded into silence. The noise of the city, the weight of his doubts—gone. A small, hesitant smile spread across his face, the first genuine one in a long time, softening the exhaustion etched into his features.

Maybe—just maybe—this was his chance to finally make things right.

Calmness was finally beginning to settle in Y/n’s mind. She had followed her best friend’s advice, though she was already on her third cup of tea. Each sip had chipped away at the overwhelming anxiety that had kept her on edge, leaving only faint traces of nervousness that felt a little easier to manage. With a deep sigh, she set the cup aside and reached for her phone, which had been off for the past five hours. It had given her enough time to think more clearly about what she needed to do—and, more importantly, what might happen. She felt better, though not entirely.

As she powered the phone on, the screen lit up with a flood of notifications: likes, scattered comments on her posts, and a few new messages. Among them was one from Ten: “Text me when you feel better, boo 💕.”

A small, warm smile crept onto her face, wrapping her in a sense of comfort she hadn’t realized she needed. She couldn’t help but feel grateful for Ten, someone so patient and thoughtful, someone who always knew exactly what to say without demanding anything in return. In the middle of all her emotional chaos, he was a steady reminder that she wasn’t alone—that someone cared and was willing to stand by her, no matter what.

Leaning her head back against the couch, she held the phone loosely in her hands, breathing a little easier. The uncertainty of what lay ahead was still there, hovering, but that simple message from Ten was enough to ground her. It was a lifeline in the middle of the storm, and for now, that was exactly what she needed.

prev//next masterlist.

Angie's note: hiii im back at it again! (i'll try to update every day while i can hehe) hope you like this one! and dont forget to take care of yourselves!!! love ya! <3 <3 <3

Taglist: @apolloxxivmin @aerivrs @chan-yeoldelling @livingdoll-hara @cryingforjae @heavenjae @milanco @sibwol @neocupidd @minkyuncutie @miniature-tragedy @kukkurookkoo @kodasity @injunnie-lemon @thegracerammy @hahaechans

[eluxcastar]

As I opened my tumblr, just to check if there is new Arlecchino stuff to swallow... lo and behold, I saw your post with the Arlecchino simp tags. Shot me the moment I stepped into the door right there, hahaha! May I request an Arlecchino x reader, headcanon or anything you're comfortable coming up with. The reader is thousands of years old, who got disowned by the Tsaritsa because they declined their performance in greatness for someone else's benefit and saw no worth in her/them. Could be a sibling or a friend, the betrayal stung like a bee since she/they saw Tsaritsa as a mother figure or could literally be the mother (Got kunikuzushi'd in a way, minus the puppet part). So, here's the main part - How Arlecchino would handle that person, when they meet in hostile terms. An accidental encounter, had banters and fights and eventually found strange subtle solace from each other. Could be romantic, or just obsession on Arlecchino's part because we love deranged women pls step on me with your sharp heels - anyway, since Arlecchino is interpreted as someone who won't hesitant to betray the Fatui. On her own benefit, works with the reader to mess and interrupt Fatui operations. I won't include more or else you'd be dealing a whole thesis of it. Hahahah! Good day to you~!

One of Repetition

── ୨୧：arlecchino x reader

୨୧﹑synopsis :: in a strange decision nobody quite understood but could not contest, you were dismissed from your position by the tsaritsa herself but allowed to live. you wander for some time, lost and confused, and most notably unable to escape the fatui even when you are no longer associated with them, which means an unwanted letter and an even more unwanted visit from the knave.

୨୧﹑genre :: kinda angsty

୨୧﹑content :: fem reader, reader has a pyro vision, arlecchino has a cryo delusion, reader uses a bow, capitano is not human this time, he's just a plot device too, their previous relationship is implied but ambiguous, implied age difference, reader is most often called by the title brighella, writing this spiralled me into insanity, possibly bad writing, not proofread 

୨୧﹑words :: 13.6k

hehe, I know that Arlecchino simps flock to me once they learn my requests are open. I have no idea why. maybe they're just especially desperate for food, but they linger, and I have a little collection of anons.

don't worry about how much it'll take me, I honestly enjoy writing longer works. anyway, I received a request similar to this some time ago (was it you? I have encountered that before) but haven't gotten around to completing it, so I'll be partly combining the two

here's the other request:

it's gonna provide some stuff for me to follow, and I remember exactly when I got it, so I wanted to include it for the dear anon who sent it

why brighella you may ask well that's because brighella has been described before as essentially Arlecchino's smarter and more vindictive brother and they compliment each other well. I think Arlecchino may also work for Brighella in some versions?? either way it felt right even though they're not really based off of the character brighella, they do share a few traits with him but not fully it's just a fun little parallel

I really did not expect this to be so long that it literally lagged the writing program I was using to save it and I have been staring at this for so long I literally have no gauge on the quality anymore just that it's variable because it took me so long someone send help

Her words left you exasperated, literally at a loss for words, and you struggled to comprehend the reason for it. There was nothing you could think of, no instance that struck you as prominent. Yet, somehow as one of the Tsaritsa's children, you had become what any parent might refer to simply as a disappointment, their failure—the problem child who never quite ironed out their issues. You had always been faithful to her, hopelessly devoted to the archon and her will. News such as this came out of nowhere and struck you like a hammer to the chest.

Two of her most mighty children were near and dear to her, and now the other had turned against you as he remains loyal to her. The Jester, who you once held in high regard, has turned against you. It is a bitter pill to swallow, for you must now sever ties with the one man you believed was truly deserving of serving the Tsaritsa. Your mother— your world— turns against you with him, before him, leading the way for him. 

In vain, you draw your bow to strike an arrow between his eyes, prove your strength and power as above your position, above him, but it means nothing. Your strike is blocked, and the Tsarita's Damselette Columbina moves to detain you. You believe she would not be strong enough, but you don't itch to fight ten other Harbingers. You understand that even you have a limit, and fighting what are supposed to be the strongest people in the country is not a part of that. Your honour is on the line, an honour which would tarnish not only Brighella's name but also have a ripple effect on your soldiers, men and women who fought for you and did not deserve a punishment that would result from their actions.

"Think carefully, Brighella." Columbina's warning is not lost on you, "You could remain as a hero or fight, and I will lure the creature you brought from the abyss and gut him before your eyes."

You do not want that. That creature is not yet loyal to the Tsaritsa but to you, and she will convince him he can save you. He will fall into her trap and die.

You bite your lip, trying to think of a way to escape and capture him so that you can run off somewhere. He does not deserve to die, but you can't think of anything. Not when you know how thorough these people are. There is not a will, really. There is only a has. He has fallen into her trap and is at the mercy of the Damselette. "What if I am to obey?" You finally ask the question you did not want to, surrendering in a way, though the bite has not left your words.

"I'll leave him be." Her answer is swift. She expected that you would eventually give in and only needed to wait for it to happen.

You shake your head, dissatisfied with only that as your compensation. "Not enough."

The smile on her face does not waver, thin and deceitful as ever, eyes hidden and closed, unseen behind the band of lace. "Mm. I can't bargain anything else." 

"Have him take my place." You lay your condition out firmly. There is only one to meet, and not a hard one at that. It would be easy to sway him into it, using whatever they plan to do to you as motivation. His loyalty and affection for you would make him accept it.

She ponders the situation and proposal momentarily, powerless to make the executive decision but undoubtedly keen on the thought of it all. "He believes that you are about to fall in battle to a foe and that he is going to save you."

You grit your teeth, knowing that this is her trap. Lure him to a place. It was not what you had expected, but it is no less the Damselette's style of acting. There is always a damsel, but perhaps she recognised that she would not suffice this time. She needed a better damsel for him to save; for that to work, it needed to be you. 

She needs your name, reputation, your relationship with your subordinate, melding together with her lies to make for a tale of tragedy with him as the hero.

The thought of him rushing to his death under the guise of saving you spikes your blood cold, chilling you. You're aware of her cruelty and always have been, but to experience it is different than hearing about it from her perspective. You are experiencing it from the perspective of the victim. 

His death was another factor to hold over your head, your penance, the anchor to force your compliance. Your blood boils with anger, but you cannot fight. Despite your feelings of anger and frustration, you know that lashing out will only cause further harm and pain.

There is only one thing you can do. You know you must. It's simply that you don't want to. 

But...you must. 

You must for him, that poor creature you tried to give a home to and who would never be in such a position if not for you and your ambition. 

"Then I will fall, and you will use the honour I built into him to persuade him." 

It was an honour meant to humanise him in a way, a being only able to imitate humanity. He had a mentor and something to fight for. Now you're imploring that it be used against him to burden him, but he will do well in your position.

Columbina smiles, that thin mocking smile like she knows the secrets of this world and more. "Would he really believe that?"

The helmet. You should use the helmet to your advantage. Your subordinate's first exposure to humanity, being you, a woman in a metal helmet, seemed to last. He used to think that was what humans looked like, and he admitted as much to you as he had asked you to remove it. Your impression left an indelible mark on him that he treasures to this day. Even if he was to see you in the aftermath, he would not uncover the lie.

"He has never seen my face. He would not recognise me."

Columbina accepts that readily, and her eyes open, pools of black and white visible through the cracks in the lace over her eyes. You've seen them before, inky black sclera and inhuman patterns decorating the borders of her irises, but you can't help the unsettled feeling that makes a home for itself in the pit of your stomach. 

-

By the evening, you are stripped of your honours, titles and coat and dumped to the curb like a bag of rubbish somebody left out. There is no more fight, no more bargaining, no more arguing. Everyone has the things they want, for the most part, so you are all satisfied enough to remain amicable with each other. Without a fight, you allow the Jester to remove the fur-lined overcoat despite the cold that rushes over you once it is gone and discarded in a heap of fur and fabric on the floor with none of its previous value. 

After that comes the slow, deliberate removal of every trinket that denoted you as you. From your delusion, several gifts to your very insignia, the only thing left of you is a lone pyro vision and the clothes on your back. You've never been more thankful to not wear a standard-issue uniform lest you be made to undress and hand that over too.

That was it. Your everything.

With each piece of regalia taken, a part of yourself disappeared until you were left an empty husk of a person, your entire reason for being for hundreds of years snatched out from under you and spat on.

The Harbingers were supposed to be the children of the Tsaritsa, and this was your grand disowning. A show of power and influence over her closest children and, by extension, the ability to bring pain to her less-- to her followers. It was foolish of you to ever think you were special in her eyes for having been by her side since before the Archon War. What did it matter when she left you amongst the rest of them? The years you spent since you had hobbled into her life so tiny and cute were now reduced to a few personal belongings and a set of words that shattered your world to sharp and dangerous pieces that would only hurt you in your haste to reassemble them and string your life back together.

When you were young, your cuteness may have been your best asset: a small body with endearing quirks, the inability to walk long distances without tumbling. In this state, you required her for everything because you would only find danger in the harsh Snezhnayan winters. To even acquire your own food was unthinkable, so you were sheltered and provided with ample treats that you could nibble from the palm of her hand if that were what you wished. Anything to keep you happy and content.

Like a little trinket, she cradled you for as many years as it took you to grow, and once you were at an age you no longer needed to be cradled, she made you her loyal companion, or so you had believed. You thought her affection for you was unwavering. She was the only mother you had ever known; she is the only mother you will remember for all of eternity.

Although it may have been an exaggeration, watching the sun's gradual descent below the horizon, you could almost believe eternity would quickly prove to be a very real concept. You watch the sky darken in silence for a time. You roam aimlessly around the city, your presence still striking unease in the people from the threatening demeanour you learned to conduct yourself with as a Harbinger, even without your official attire. The only remnant of your former self is a helmet you consistently wore during every public appearance. 

You can't help your wandering mind. Did your imitation of the Tsaritsa's actions make you weak? Attempting to nurture someone in the same manner she nurtured you? You are not a god, only the former child of one. Maybe you cannot care for him and maintain your objectivity. It's possible that he has become your Achilles' heel, as you were forewarned when the Tsaritsa less than subtly suggested you eliminate him.

You cannot live like this.

No matter how many suns you watched set, you would never come to terms with it living like this. The world you once knew, which revolved around a singular governing entity and individual, has disappeared without a trace. Without a central axis to anchor it in place, your world spirals chaotically out of control, with each passing second feeling more frenzied than the last. Your head is too muddled, your brain too overwhelmed by your emotions to think objectively of the faults in your time as a Harbinger, years of your life spent that way, burying your thoughts beneath a heavy weight of despair.

You almost want to call them wasted, but that would be wrong. Without the Tsaritsa, you might've— no, would've died during the Archon War. Perhaps another god would take you in, but it is unlikely that they would have exhibited the same level of compassion and generosity as the Tsaritsa. They would not have coddled you into comfort the way she did. Then again, what if that had been your downfall? Did she ever genuinely want you to stay? Based on this...perhaps you took her kindness for granted and overstayed your welcome.

You had no right to make demands of her in your final moments as her child, acting like a spoiled brat throwing a temper tantrum. But can you be justified? Can the threat to your subordinate's life negate that? Surely a bit, but not entirely, not if her actions were in response to yours. 

Oh, even if you begged on your knees, she would not take you back now.

Why had you not done that before?

She must be disappointed that your attitude was born from her compassion, the epitome of her failures. You do not deserve to call her your mother. You took her generosity as a guarantee, thought yourself above her other children solely because you were her first, and believed you were her favourite for no reason besides your own arrogance.

You have failed the only being in Teyvat willing to show pity toward you.

-

The deepest heart of Snezhnayan forest welcomes you readily with open arms and the gnashing jaws of monsters starving for food. The forest seems to come alive with a vicious hunger for flesh. You have nothing but your vision and bow left to aid your defence. Your delusion is gone, and your subordinates are nowhere to be found to assist you. Despite this, marking your way with a trail of bodies is easy. It is just an inconvenience to have to always be on guard, but you are strangely used to it. 

The cold is numbing as the air hits your face, your fingers almost wholly without a sensation of touch and even a tingle in your toes.

You spent many missions that way, tensed and expecting violence at any moment, hardly allowing yourself to sleep, let alone relax. It feels like nothing has changed in that respect, but you know everything has. You cannot hear the large crackling bonfire or the pattering of footsteps in the snow as your subordinates come to join you, their laughter and chatter and their whispers to each other.

There is a stark silence that is deafening to your ears.

-

On the seventh night, you pass through a village on the outskirts of Snezhnaya, where you first catch wind of the news you had agreed on. The locals informed you that they had recently halted their work for half a day in your honour, believing that you had passed away. All of them are completely unaware that as they remark on the death of Brighella, they are speaking to the former Harbinger, who asks about the news under the guise of being a curious traveller. They also strongly advised you against venturing into the innermost heart of the nation. If anyone were to notice the helmet carefully secured around your waist, it might bring unwanted attention to your travels.

Though you were stripped of your insignia, you have your armour, which by some grace had been spared from confiscation. Though a seemingly trivial act of kindness, a sense of pride swelled within you as you gazed upon it. You are glad it is still yours. This armour had accompanied you through countless blood-soaked skirmishes, serving as a steadfast shield against all manner of danger. 

It is at that moment you decide to treat it as a trophy. Though there is no truth to it, you take responsibility for the Harbinger's slaying. Now, the armour which once protected you as a Harbinger will stand as a triumphant emblem of your hard-won victory over Brighella and the end of the Harbinger's tyrannical hold over the land. You know that you will keep it close, treasuring it always as a tangible reminder of the sacrifices you made to reach this pivotal moment. You slayed Brighella. You ended the Harbinger's tyranny.

If you didn't know better, you would think you were getting a little too far into it and starting to believe it yourself.

By the eleventh night, you find yourself situated in an inn, and the nights only carry on from there all the way up to the twenty-second night since your abrupt dismissal and, to the rest of the world, your supposed demise. Already, the whispers that once revolved around Brighella's defeat now shifted to speculations regarding her successor. The question was not necessarily who, but who could possibly? Her brutal reign as a Harbinger had instilled fear in the hearts of all who crossed her path and in the minds of the people, no one else could measure up to her sheer terror-inducing presence. Nobody knows what happened once they dared to fight Brighella until now. She was only the Fourth of the Tsaritsa's children, but she was the most combat-heavy, and no one wished to cross her, except for the rumoured contender for her throne, who was spoken of in hushed tones as nobody was eager to have their reverence for whoever was bold enough to reach the wrong ears.

Your achievements find their place amongst the rumours as people say that Brighella's killer stole her armour and wears it as her trophy.

Despite the slew of gossip that its patrons indulge in, you enjoy the quaintness of this bar made and run by travellers who use it like a pitstop to rest and recuperate. It is a home to them, along with adventurers and merchants who benefit from the atmosphere. The people are strangers, often reserved and eager to keep to themselves, but have immeasurable wealths of information that spill with a few drinks and a group of acquaintances who are, for only one night of pleasure and indulgence, their lifelong friends.

Among those friends buried in your own tankard of cheap ale, you laugh along with their jokes and entertain their questions like a test of your ability to lie and improvise in this tale you're making for yourself. If they have names, you don't know them. Brighella's death was a glorious battle but isolated to the hills where you were alone.

"Brighella was alone, and they were weakened by prior injury. I don't know what caused it." You mix a dash of the speculations in, downplaying your strength a tad as you're unwilling to expose too much of it. "I'm not one to miss an opportunity. When would it arise again?"

One of your new acquaintances scoffs, amused but no less aware of the dangers of doing such a thing. "And make an enemy of the Fatui?" He is a new graduate of the Sumeru Akademiya who's come to make his way through Snezhnaya for a job offer. Reminds you of someone else, minus the graduating.

"They will not miss her." You are quick to answer—too quick, arguably—as it draws a sliver of attention before dipping back under the radar as a product of your confidence. "Her 'head' makes too cute a decoration on my side to pass up stealing it."

"I wouldn't dare say such a thing. Fatuus comes here sometimes." They are the words of a Snezhnayan native raised to worship the Fatui, though he is somewhat disillusioned by their crimes and cruelty, as you've learned many are.

"Let them hear it!" Your laughter is boisterous and unabashed. "They'll see the armour anyway. They probably despise her like everyone else."

Another one of your new friends, a travelling merchant from Fontaine, interjects your ravings to add only a passing comment. It was as she had done all evening, her secrets locked up tight. "She did not make herself likeable."

"She was not meant to be likeable but a fearsome warrior." Again, the Snezhnayan man rebuttals the criticism against her as he had been doing all evening again.

"You don't have to get so far up her ass, Brighella's not gonna crawl out of her grave and thank you for it."

"You're so vulgar."

You plant your tankard firmly down on the table between the four of you, leaning over it to close the distance between you and the man. "I'm not meant to be likeable either."

Forget being only a little too into the role. You're revelling in the freedom of this new identity of yours.

Quick to disperse the tension, your graduate friend changes the topic without a hint of hesitance in his voice. "They left an underling people believe will take their place. It's a surprise to think Brighella had someone who followed them with such...devotion."

"It's strange, but not impossible." The merchant from Fontaine again, contributing nothing you weren't all already thinking.

"Could she have had a sentimental side?"

"Who cares if she had a sentimental side?"

"Upset the attention isn't on you anymore?"

Anger crosses your face, but you stifle it just as quickly as it appears. You wish their attention was off of you, really. The former you, maybe, but you nonetheless. You want to know about your subordinate. What happened to your second in command? You don't care to hear their speculation as to whether you were or were not particularly emotional with your underlings. You know the answers to all of those questions and more without their guessing games.

"Regardless of the reason, they say the underlying is much easier to swallow than she is, so maybe the position of Fourth Harbinger will change drastically if he takes it." 

"Would he really change its purpose if he was so loyal?"

"Unintentionally, perhaps."

God, these people are so dull. Just listening to them, you can tell they know nothing of the ways of the Fatui. Harbingers are not individual job positions with specific parameters. Each role is its own, and they are moulded by the person who assumes them like a character in a play, enchanting and unsettling in a horrific mix of theatrics and violence. It is what they stand for. One does not assume the role and become an actor with a script. They must improvise and act on a whim to the beat of the Tsaritsaʼs drum, their life no longer their own.

They are not whatever these ramblings and poor excuses for speculations make them out to be.

"Terribly misinformed, aren't they?" In your ear is the low voice of the Snezhnayan man holding in his laughter at the two as the scholar and the merchant go back and forth. 

You glance to your left, where he has leaned closer to you. "Repulsively," you respond curtly.

He has a faint glint of satisfaction in his eye as you seem to have confirmed something. "I thought you might've been from Snezhnaya." 

"So what if I am?"

"It was only an observation."

In the background, the main conversation continues, just as clumsy as it was before you had tuned it out in favour of drinking some more. "Does this mean he will also be named Brighella?"

Straightening back in his seat, the man swiftly interjected their back-and-forth responses to explain to them. "They receive a unique title upon their promotion, and nobody knows what it is until then." A simple enough concept to understand.

"In other words, anything but Brighella."

"It hasn't been long enough to know yet."

"It's strange. Nobody knows his name even now."

That would probably be because you never gave him one.

You considered it in the years you spent with him but couldn't find one you liked. His name was inhuman, not for your ears and not for your tongue, rendering it useless to you and every human who would hear it. The night you found him was spent crowded around a bonfire listing off every suggestion you and your subordinates could think of to no avail, as he only sat quietly by your side and said little about any of these choices, finding no familiarity in any of them. That's only natural, you suppose. 

You still haven't chosen a name for yourself that isn't Brighella, either. Your old one is well and truly forgotten, with the years eroding your memories. It had been centuries since you had been called anything else. Evidently, picking names is not your forte. 

"As far as I've heard, nobody knows what it is."

You find the mention of your subordinate has completely ruined your mood. You are grateful the creature is alive but worried the knowledge you're snooping around to find out when he will be promoted could land you in trouble. It's troubling enough to wonder if he has heard your tales through the grapevine about how you had supposedly 'killed' Brighella—his mistress and mentor—which he would not be happy about. Though you did not fear the creature before, now that you've personally trained him to understand human combat, you're not so sure you'd want to fight him. It would be a hassle. Unlike many, you do not fear the inhumanity of the Doctor or the stone wall that's called the Jester. Even the cunning Damselette struggles to do more than unsettle you, but you respect that creature's raw strength and understand that no matter what you do, it doesn't matter. You are confined to a human form, and he is not.

You lied when he said he wouldn't recognise you, however. You don't actually know if he would.

You don't know the extent to which his eyes can pick out the details in your appearance that aren't physical. Had he memorised your relative build? Your height? The way you carry yourself and your mannerisms? The thought unnerves you, but so does everything else about him.

"I'm turning in for the night." Without regard for the ongoing conversation, you declare your intentions and abruptly shut down whatever is being said at the time without much care for it. Whatever it is, it isn't important. Your unfinished drink is left behind as you make your way to your quarters.

In retrospect, you understand their eagerness to merely cover up the circumstances of your dismissal. For a Harbinger as feared as Brighella, it is easier to halt work for a mere half-day rather than attempt to contain the resulting fallout of admitting one of their own was inadequate while simultaneously preserving their tenuous hold on power.

-

Months pass before there is talk of the crowning of a new Harbinger, the people abuzz with the news and eager to know all they can, preferably before the aristocrats feel like sharing the night of the event. You considered attending the ceremony but ultimately decided against it. You may have the courage to do so, but you are certainly not stupid enough to wander into the waiting heart of the Fatui's clutches. You have waited patiently for this moment and can easily wait longer to hear the news.

No longer treating the inn like a home, you settled somewhere in the plains of another nation only a few weeks after you had first arrived there, sensing the barkeep was getting sick of you and the attention you were drawing to his otherwise obscure establishment. 

People settled there for a night, saw you were there, and word of mouth as they boasted of their encounters with you lured others who came to see you. While this influx of new customers certainly provided a boost to business, it also had the unintended consequence of driving away those who preferred to keep a low profile and valued its place as being for those 'in the know'. In other words, while you were great for a boom in business, you were bad for long-term business. 

The barkeep pushing the mora you tried to pay him to pay for another night was enough to send the message he wanted you gone, out by morning. The idea you were not to come back for quite some time was clear to you in the look he gave you.  

Liyue, on the other hand, is filled with mountains and teeming with visitors who have come to witness the highly anticipated Rite of Descension. Surprisingly, the influx of tourism only adds to the overall enjoyment of your experience. You would think that tourism would hinder your time there, but completely contrary it makes it better in a way. The locals are expecting an influx of outsiders to come to see the Geo Archon in person, and, as a result, they are not only willing to hire help for the time but also serve later at food stalls, and the place is livelier. 

People notice you less as you blend into a crowd of people who don't belong, and you slip under the radar.

You have no interest in the Rite of Descension nor the Geo Archon, and most of your time is spent outside the Harbour.

Wangshu Inn is still within Liyue but at a considerable distance from the Harbour, a mid-point between there and the border to Mondstadt. It is quieter, which is neither good nor bad, and home to some very understanding owners who ask so few questions it almost alarms you. Nonetheless, you crave respite from the chaos and theatrics you were revelling in as a reprieve from the stress you were under, wondering how you would live your life now. At one point, you relished being hailed as a hero by many, but it soon became overwhelming, and you found yourself trapped in the clutches of Brighella once again.

Whether by design or happenstance, your identity had begun to consume your life again, and if you wanted to have any hope of living outside of Brighella, then that had to stop. And so, you sought out a place to lay down your burdens and unwind, leading you to where you are now.

You arrive your old self, and despite clinging to it since your travels had begun, you remove every piece of your armour for what you intend to be a long time and leave it all neatly arranged for when you eventually return to it. You feel compelled to finally don the fresh outfit you acquired during your journey through Fontaine. Admittedly floor-length dresses and extravagance are not your style after years of being cooped up in a heavy suit of armour, but there's something alluring about trying out a new look, especially when it involves pants that don't weigh more than a third of your body weight. Besides, you always kind of liked them anyway, just...not yet. Now seems like a good time to dip your toes in.

You almost don't recognise yourself when you finally see yourself in the mirror. Perhaps you got too used to seeing a metal helmet staring back at you and a suit of armour for a body, but the fresh air against your skin and lighter clothes feels...good. 

For the first time in a while, you feel free.

The new outfit is making you giddy, too giddy for your taste. You don't recall having such an innate pep in your step, only one that felt deserved, but this different. While you typically associate a sense of satisfaction with having earned it through hard work or perseverance, this newfound exuberance seems to come from just existing in your new clothes. You are happy just because even if there is nothing to feel happy about. It's as if the simple act of wearing them has given you a boost, despite not having accomplished anything significant. It doesn't even seem like you made much progress toward becoming yourself when you lay it all out on paper. You bought clothes and wore them, that's it. 

Something about it feels so much like yourself. The freedom to stray from what you thought you were until now, something you hadn't dared to try before.

One thing you like about Wangshu Inn is how it serves even people who aren't staying there. The ground floor overlooking the water is designated as almost a kind of restaurant. People filter in and out to be served, stay for lunch, meet with friends, and take breaks from their missions. It is meant as a place for travelling merchants, but you find that is not all its patrons see in it.

You are not nearly as sociable as you were in the Snezhnayan bar you were at, but this seems more manageable anyway.

"If you've come looking for work, the Adventurer's Guild may have a place for you." A suggestion from a merchant who struck up an idle conversation with you for some reason sticks with you. You can't say why, but you imagine a product of boredom.

"They accept anyone?" Your surprise is evident in your tone, as you thought they might have tighter restrictions.

Just as in disbelief fact as you are, he shrugs, "As long as you've got enough power to back yourself, a friend of mine said they'll accept anyone."

That sounds far too good to be true, at least for your taste. "And it doesn't matter where you come from or where you go?"

"Adventurers are known to get restless in one place for too long."

"I see, and you can just go up a--"

"Excuse me, miss." You don't remember hearing that voice, but you recognise the attire when you turn your head just enough to be met with the sight of a cicin mage standing before you impatiently awaiting your attention. The top half of her face is concealed, as is customary, but there's no mistaking the unkind smile that tugs at the corners of her lips as you meet her gaze.

Has she come for retribution? 

Despite your fears of having to make a mess, the woman reveals a letter that is sealed with wax and extends it towards you, expecting you to receive it sooner rather than later as she waves it slightly as a form of incentive. "From the Damselette," she adds.

"What could the Damselette want with me?"

"Perhaps a warning." The words slip by, quiet but noticeable, immediately catching your attention. You raise an eyebrow at her. She's slowly unveiling her contempt at your presence; you're very aware of that fact. You are not familiar with her. It is unlikely that she ever worked under your command. However, it is possible that she might've held a certain level of regard, which has since turned to hostility as rumours of her arrogant killer run rampant. "I don't know. I'm not privy to those things."

Your eyes glance over her from head to toe in thought, scrutinising her for any indication of where her animosity came from. However, there is nothing that gives away her motives. You break your gaze away from her and glance down at the letter in your hand. "I suggest you get a better hold of your tongue. They don't like it when you're rude to their guests."

Her smile does not waver. "You are not a guest." She states that fact with glaringly false politeness.

"Everyone who recieves correspondence from a Harbinger is a guest."

You suppose you can't fault her disdain when all is said and done.

From somewhere tucked away in her clothing, she pulls what appears to be a knife from your peripheral vision and points it at you, but you look up to find it is only a blunt letter opener balanced in the palm of her hand, waiting to be picked up.

"I was ordered to stay until you had read the letter to deliver her your response."

Just as she believes you are a murderer, the letter addresses you as such. Your lies have reached her ears. Moreover, she is playing along with them.

You expected threats and unfair deals, but it is only an update on what is happening regarding your position, the reassurance that they have not violated the terms of the agreement made. A half-hearted apology and an excuse. Preparations set them back, supposedly.

While you imagine preparing not only a funeral but a ceremony to announce the next Harbinger does take time, it would not take this much time with how prepared they were to kill you off in the first place. It was a planned betrayal.

It just looks better if they don't appear so prepared.

For whatever reason, perhaps your consolation prize for enduring her shameless lies, she shares a secret with you. As you casually scan the letter with little care for its contents, your attention is immediately drawn to the heart of the matter. It's the very subject on everyone's minds and all that anyone speaks of. 

Il Capitano. His name is Il Capitano.

Personally, you would not have picked it, but that does not mean that you hate the name. Quite the opposite, in fact, as you have to admit that when you envision the name paired with his face, it suits him well. She ends the letter promising that she will 'take good care of him', though you know that your respective ideas of those words do not align or even coexist in the same universe. There is an unmistakable discrepancy between her intentions and your own, and you don't like it.

"Come back to us, Brighella. You can watch everything you wanted in person."

-

You won't go back. It's a trap.

Irritated, you find yourself back in the heart of the country where nobody lurks, haphazard in the way you fire your arrows at every creature that dares to disturb your sense of peace. It's hard to focus, and you don't bother trying. Liyue is not the same as Snezhnaya, with open plains broken up by rocky mountains. The creatures are mostly the same, and all die the same, hilichurls and geovishaps running rampant and shot down into piles of meat and rocks.

It doesn't matter how loudly you shout, as there's nobody around to hear it. You could scream, cry, and throw a tantrum all you want, and it won't matter. Even if you throw yourself at the ground and bang your head into the dirt, nobody will see it.

This is all pointless. You will never escape. It will never matter how far you roam or how fast you run.

Why did you think you could? Had your brain melted from your head?

There is no other side. There is no salvation. You are owned from the day you're brought in until the day you die, but why? Why did they want to bring you back to Snezhnaya? What was the point? You are out of the way now, hardly causing trouble for them. Despite this, everything seems to be running smoothly, even with the liberties you have taken in your new role. Was that it? The reason they wanted you to see?

It must be. There is no other reason to risk exposing the lie otherwise. Unless it was to tarnish the Fatui's reputation.

You refuse to believe it is something as innocent as wanting to see your request honoured. Nothing is innocent within the Fatui, not an action without hidden intentions or motives. Centuries of watching their misdeeds from the inside, which always go unpunished and unchallenged by anyone except the powerless commoners, have taught you that there is always an ulterior motive lurking behind their actions.

Not to mention it came from Columbina.

You must've spent three days out there before finally returning to Wangshu Inn, dirtied by the elements and craving something to eat, like a child's insatiable desire for sweets. The dead of night provides a cover for you to take a dip in the water beside the inn in an attempt to rinse the dirt and sweat off of you. It dawns on you that your new clothes would've been ruined if you hadn't had the foresight to change before venturing out again. In that moment, thoughts of the Fatui and the memories evoked by your armour flooded your mind, and you didn't want the same thing to happen to the clothes that had made you so happy from the moment you put them on.

It feels childish how you cling to these things.

A part of you just can't help it, torn between holding onto the memories that define who you believe yourself to be and starting anew with a clean slate. Neither can win. One is stuck on the past and what little you have of it, and the other wants to abandon all of that and start completely fresh.

The half-compromise you are trying desperately to make work by accepting that what's gone is gone while keeping your armour close to your heart is obviously not working. The thought of discarding it pains you too much to actually do it, plagued by the urge to melt it down to scrap metal while also being overwhelmed by the knowledge you will regret doing that as soon as you see the mess that would be left of it.

Your new clothes make you happy, so you need more new things to make you even happier, right? If new means you glean happiness, then more new is what will help you move past all of this deliberation in your head.

Clothes were a given, and...maybe a haircut? Yeah. You should try cutting your hair and decide on a name for yourself that isn't Brighella. Something you want, a name you like, that you can look at yourself and see that person reflected in a mirror. The person you think you are supposed to be when you look past the expectation that has been instilled in you.

That merchant you spoke to mentioned the Adventurer's Guild might have a place for you. What if you should be helping people instead of hurting them? What if you only did that to please the Tsaritsa?

In the background of your thoughts, you walk yourself back to your room at the Wangshu Inn and collapse onto your bed, thinking. Though you are exhausted, you cannot bring yourself to sleep for one reason or another. You make excuses for yourself just to ignore the glaring root of the problem you know is there but refuse to acknowledge. The problem isn't really how hot or cold the room is or the texture of your blankets and how much you dislike the humidity in the air. Something else entirely is keeping you from rest.

Your hair isn't the problem either, or your clothes. Even your lack of a proper name really doesn't bother you. They're only the illusion of change you're using to cover up how truly lost you have become now that you have to think for yourself.

How long have you been alive now? Centuries at least. You can't even live independently after that long? No. No, you can't.

You are so lonely, you are lost, you are confused. You need company, you need guidance, and you need purpose. How are you supposed to live? Where is the person who will tell you what to do every day? 

You have to make that choice yourself? You can't do that. You've never done that. 

The thought of even something so basic scaring you so severely brings you to a weakness you never realised you even possessed. Fear surges through the very depths of your being, an unfamiliar sensation that you find unsettling. You don't like it, but it's an impossible feeling to push down and ignore. Over the years, you had quietly collected your shortcomings into a neat little jar and pushed it aside, out of sight, away from your conscious thought, as if pretending you were invincible. 

What would you have done if you had gotten to Capitano? Make him decide?

He can't. He's not human. He doesn't know enough to decide. You've only made him just like you, a fearsome man until he's abandoned and vulnerable like you have become, and then he'll be pathetic and helpless too.

Nothing came out of any of your efforts, did it? It couldn't have possibly. Even with every attempt you made, it was always doomed to fail.

-

It turns out that the Adventurer's Guild was more than happy to take you in, in a way. They put you right to work. It helps to take your mind off of things if nothing else. It's mindless work, able to tune out everything in your brain and run on auto-pilot. You take to this life so well it scares you, completing your tasks with so little trouble you wonder how this isn't more popular, even if some are arguably unnecessary. If only you were good at proper cooking, you might get rich from the tens of requests for certain dishes. 

You're irresistibly drawn to the combat, right back to the heat of battle where you feel truly alive. In all you've had to question, your love for the thrill of fighting has never been up for debate. You're unsure whether it's the adrenaline or something else, but you don't care to know, either. You don't concern yourself with such questions. It's not important to you why, so long as you find comfort in it. It's the one thing you cannot be robbed of. 

A hard day's work is always rewarding.

"Make sure you be careful today." A fellow adventurer is quick to catch you before you can wander off for your next quest, smiling and unbothered despite his words. You've never met him, but he speaks as if you have.

Something about the bond of adventurers is so reminiscent of the Fatui.

You turn back to place your full attention on him rather than the grilled tiger fish you had acquired out of curiosity about the taste. "Why's that?" You're not too bothered, expecting him to tell you that it's dangerous out there, the Abyss Order existing and all.

"The Fatui are restless."

His words catch you off-guard, light in tone as they are. In outward appearances, he's mostly unbothered, while the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

You try to grasp your bearings just enough to speak. "They don't do that for fun." Something about it is just as shaky as you expected, unable to fully mask it, but you figure he'll blame it on nerves.

"Harbinger, apparently." He doesn't draw attention to your demeanour, so neither do you.

"Which one?"

"Dunno."

It's probably Columbina. Maybe you pissed her off when you shot the messenger. Yeah, she probably wouldn't appreciate that. When you did it in a fit of anger, you expected her to find it funny after coming to your senses.

"Hey. Something wrong?"

You startle as you realise he had been speaking that whole time, and you just weren't listening.

"Sorry?"

"I said it's weird that they'd be up and about so soon after the newest was officially promoted."

You deadpan a little, realising it wasn't something of actual value, just a misconception that the greatest powers that be in Snezhnaya aren't spiteful enough to hate each other just as much as they hate everyone else. "Not really. They're not particularly sentimental."

"They don't even care to go out drinking for their own?"

"They hardly know how to tolerate each other." You realise your slip of the tongue too late, seeming too familiar. That's a problem. He barely draws attention to it, only making a strange face.

"Well, whatever the reason, work doesn't stop for them."

In silence, you agree and continue your day as if you really believe that.

-

As you wrap up your work for the day, you feel a sense of pleasant exhaustion wash over you. It struck you as strange that nobody was out in the wild, even the usual fatuus you avoid. Something about it was uniquely eerie. It dawns on you why he came to the conclusion that the Fatui were 'restless'. They must have retreated into the city to prepare for the impending arrival of the Harbinger destined to disrupt the small peace you had found. The sudden influx of fatuus in Liyue would make it seem like they are increasing in numbers nationwide when in reality, they are just moving.

You're not going to let it bother you for now.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you know you have promised yourself that repeatedly and have found it to be a lie, but you mean it this time. You're familiar enough with the workings of the Fatui to know that they don't like to leave sectors alone for too long, and Liyue had spent a fair time before your dismissal unchecked. 

Even at night, you remain unbothered when you wander Liyue for a time, looking for something to do and notice what he was talking about.

Many of them are fussing more than usual, meaning that chances are it's too late to inhibit the process of this Harbinger arriving. You could turn tail and run, scurry off to the other side of Teyvat and settle in Fontaine or even Natlan, but you like it here.

You sit in the heart of Liyue, listening to a speaker tell his stories. You know you shouldn't linger, but you tell yourself you can for just a little while longer. It reminds you of the past, filled with Liyue legends you remember hearing about as news at the time they took place. The fact these tales are now old enough to be suitable for a speaker's recitation as 'legends' is a grim reminder that maybe you're older than you realised. Your early life is now from the time of legends. You can push that feeling aside to focus on the nostalgia of hearing these stories.

Beside you, you hear the chair move but don't budge from looking to see who it is, assuming that all other chairs are taken or that it's an adventurer who got curious, possibly even the man you had spoken to earlier about all of the Fatui--

“Reminiscing, Brighella?”

You recognise both that voice and that name and go stiff, eyes finding her before your head can even turn in her direction.

In front of you—or rather, across from you—the Knave sits upon the other chair at your table as if she was always supposed to be there, seemingly at ease, but you know better than to assume her guard is down. Arlecchino has always had an icy composure, though she can be hot-headed at times and can lose her temper when provoked. It's not surprising that she was able to track you down, even without knowing what your face looks like.

She turns to you leisurely, unhurried. "I came to look for you since you missed the ceremony." It sounds like a greeting the way she speaks those words. You suppose it is one, really.

Ah, maybe you should've been worried after all.

You try to play off your emotions as if you're completely unfazed by her presence. It's the only way to maintain some semblance of control. "Did Columbina not like my gift?"

"Oh, she rather enjoyed it." Arlecchino maintains a similar composure, knowing approaching you in public means employing subtlety as much as it means she's less likely to be attacked. "She felt it was just the kind of gift you would give."

"I try my best not to disappoint." Your response is less enthusiastic than you might like, a hint of nervousness infesting your brain and refusing to budge.

Despite this, she doesn't notice, not outwardly. Really, that means nothing, as you are very aware of how good her poker face is. "Il Capitano hasn't stopped speaking about how much he'd like to kill you. You don't want to disappoint, do you?" When you were waiting for her to speak, those weren't the words you expected to hear, but somehow you're not fully surprised either.

"I see, so my lies reached even his ears." 

You thought as much.

"I think you'll be quite surprised when you see him." Her reply is so cocky that you almost scoff at her.

"Who said I would be seeing him?" You try to match the audacity she had to make such a remark.

She turns to you rather casually for the words she speaks, an odd tone you can't quite place, lacing her words half like mockery. "You miss him, don't you?"

It's that question that makes you snort and turn away as you realise that her negotiation and persuasion skills are abysmal for such a cunning and intelligent woman. "Not enough to become foolish enough to trust someone whose title denotes them as dishonest and untrustworthy." You always wondered about that, really. "A name like 'the Knave' really isn't subtle."

"Funny." She doesn't laugh or even smile. "I believe yours was something close to 'bother'."

You lean back in your chair, testing it slightly as you push the front legs off the floor as a means of entertaining yourself through this frankly dull conversation. "Then I suppose we're both living up to our names."

She remains silent for several seconds, pondering her next words. You can see her fingers rub against the wood of the chair as a distraction. 

"The others told me it was pointless to try to bring you back."

"They were right."

"You won't come back for any reason?"

"I know a trap when I see one."

"Of course."

Silence, again. You don't care to break it, either. You came to hear the stories, and you really would like to continue that rather than listening to her voice, but she's not making it easy.

"Is that all now?" Your voice shows your impatience more than you might like, but you realise it may work in your favour if she senses she's annoying you.

For the first time in a while, she smiles faintly to herself. "For now. Your answer is abundantly clear." She appears to concede, if only for a little while

You let the chair land back on all of its legs and lean your elbow on the table. 

"Are you going to get out of that chair?"

"No."

"And why is that?"

"It's comfortable."

The urge to roll your eyes brims in your mind, but you stop yourself. You don't want to give the Knave the satisfaction of knowing something she is already well aware of. Besides that, you don't want her to know that you really don't want her here in any capacity. Arlecchino's presence is never a good thing.

You let out a tentative breath as you consider your next words quite carefully. The wrong thing might have Arlecchino never leaving you, and the right one might drive her back to Snezhnaya if you're lucky. You shift your whole body to face her. "You just arrived from Snezhnaya, I take it. What do you want to eat?"

She eyes you suspiciously, scrutinising you for any sign of trying to fool her into consuming poison or making herself sick. "You're feeding me now?"

You pretend you don't notice her intensity. "Well, you're not leaving. It would look strange for me to order food for myself."

Again she smiles to herself, a light mockery that's cautious and testing, easing herself into accepting your offer. "I wasn't aware you cared so much."

"You could starve if you'd prefer." You turn away as you speak and don't look back, shifting yourself back in your seat to be front-facing.

There's a quietness between the two of you, both waiting for the answer to your proposal. You have an inkling Arlecchino will accept, but you don't know with her. She never seemed especially pleased by the times the Jester would convene you all over meals and such, ending up in fights and bickering. She never fought with you, however, so perhaps it's different. 

"Order whatever you like."

You find yourself looking intently at a list of the options on the menu. It's quite a lengthy list. "Mm..." Even though it's just a false invitation and you're doing it to be courteous, you can't say you aren't enjoying the thought of picking out a meal and sharing it with her. Despite your removal from the Fatui's affairs for some time, you'd be lying if you thought you weren't at least a little curious. "Jade Parcels...and maybe Jade Fruit Soup? But Dragon Beard Noodles sound good too..."

Becoming slightly irritated by your indecision, Arlecchino looks across the table to where you are sitting deep in thought. "Is it that complicated of a decision?"

You spare her only a glance before returning to looking for something she would enjoy. "I have to pick something you'll like, don't I?"

Soup is more challenging to share than noodles are.

With that, your decision is made, and you settle. Despite yourself, you are somewhat restless in thought. Arlecchino's lack of contribution is slightly frustrating, but it sounds like she'd be content with anything. You're not sure if your choice is the correct one, but you believe you picked something to the best of your abilities that is easy, even to a foreign tongue. As far as you know, Arlecchino is from Fontaine. You've never eaten like this with Arlecchino to know her tastes or dietary restrictions.

"Jade Parcels and Dragon Beard Noodles. Sound good?"

"It'll do."

"Good. I'll go order it, then."

Arlecchino must be surprised that you returned, as she doesn't seem too thrilled. She never really does, but there was a disappointed glint in her eye right up until you walked in front of her to get to your chair. 

It continues until you get the food, and Arlecchino finally stares at it with an overwhelming sense of dread, left with an intense feeling of apprehension regarding whether. You appear not to hesitate, though this arrangement isn't quite what she had expected. Arlecchino had thought you would order enough dishes that you wouldn't have to share, but you seemed to understand it in a way that meant you would be eating from the same bowl.

You notice her hesitation almost immediately, yet your vexation with her arrival makes you unwilling to acknowledge that you know the reason, a deliberate miscommunication on your part. "Mm. I didn't think this through." Your words seem to make her perk up as if you will free her from her awkwardness by asking for another bowl. "You probably aren't used to using chopsticks, are you? Not many dishes that need those back home."

She knows you're toying with her, that sweet smile from across the table hardly hiding your true intentions. Arlecchino waits, watching to see what you will do next, as she looks back at you with a scowl. 

Her eyes do not leave you as you wordlessly collect a Jade Parcel and present it to her like you are patronising her with this action. Your feigned kindness, this supposed benevolence of you offering to feed her like a child, no doubt hoping she'll back down and excuse herself completely. 

She won't let you do that and have the satisfaction of seeing her back down. She won't allow you to break her facade of acceptance.

Though you circle the food in front of her slowly, only a motion with your fingers trying to convince her or make her as uncomfortable as possible, Arlecchino continues to stare for several more moments. Eventually, she musters the courage to relinquish some of her pride.

Arlecchino leans in slightly, just enough to open her mouth and take a bite from the food you hold out for her. Despite the circumstances that led to this moment, she can't help but acknowledge your good taste. Arlecchino couldn't possibly eat another bite that way, though. Not being fed by the woman who is now her adversary just to avoid her 'winning' in the situation, but admitting she is willing to let you get under her skin is not an option either.

She must treat this situation differently, as if you are merely feeding her out of obligation to her rather than because you have your own motives.

It hardly stops her from enjoying her portion of the meal from the chopsticks you share with her. At some point, it finally occurs to her that you only hold one pair, leaving her set untouched despite feeding her. You had been feeding her with the same set you ate with the entire time, and while you were well aware of that, it hardly seemed to alarm you as much as it alarmed her.

Your biggest disappointment was being unable to get rid of her that whole time, watching her readily accept whatever you tried to use against her. Watching a Harbinger practically bow their head and obey you, however, fuels your consciousness. It's like eye candy to think back and realise you did that.

It's another one of your quiet defiances against the Tsaritsa. You wonder how far you can take it.

As you stand from your seat, you stretch your arms above your head until you hear a faint pop as all the tension in your back relaxes. "I don't imagine you'll be leaving anytime soon."

"No. I have plenty of business outside of you." It's not a lie. She's got a lot to do in Liyue even without your presence, but you're a priority. 

You lean back over your chair, a mischievous little look on your face. "Do tell."

"You know that I can't do that." She's not amused by the attempt, either.

You straighten back to your usual height and brush it off in moments. "Unfun. I thought your loyalty to the Tsaritsa could be won over easily." 

She scowls. "Not by you."

"I see. You have standards after all."

She chooses to ignore your comment. Up until now, you have had quick-fire conversations, sometimes interrupted by a silence that drags on. This is no exception.

"Capitano truly believes you are dead." Arlecchino realises when she has caught your attention, and that time is now. She notices how your head tilts towards her ever so slightly, and your head raises. "For a time, he grieved, but it didn't last long. He has become fixated on the idea of revenge ever since he heard that Brighella's killer was running around boasting about their achievements with the authentic armour to support their claims."

Suddenly it makes some small amount of sense in your mind why they would want you to come back exactly. Capitano won't stay put forever. If he's stuck on vengeance, he won't rest until he exacts it. You weren't thinking about how much your stories would piss him off at the time.

When you spend an extended period of time silent and seemingly disinclined to answer, Arlecchino continues. "I want to show you to him."

You have subjected him to human emotions he's not equipped to deal with. Rightfully, you feel horrible like more of your failures are being wrenched from your corner and dumped out into the open for all to see. It doesn't matter that you're in Liyue, where nobody knows the two of you. You don't want them to see either. 

"He wouldn't want to see me." You don't think she really wanted to hear those words when you finally speak. Her expression gives it away. "He should enjoy his position without my interference. I've ruined his life enough."

"You've given him power and status, he should be grateful for that--"

"No. He shouldn't." You don't even wait for her to finish. She hasn't even realised it yet. Not the way you've been forced to. That power is a detriment, not a blessing. Why should he want that? "I thought that way as well, but now I…I don't think my choice was the correct one."

Arlecchino was not expecting to evoke your vulnerability, shallow as it may be for now. "What choice?"

"To bring him back from the abyss." 

From a purely objective perspective, taking in Capitano was the cause of everything. Arlecchino presumably thinks of it in the way you don't want her to, that you regret taking him in because he ultimately ruined everything for you, causing your world to fall apart. You don't. You wish you hadn't dragged him down with you.

Now Capitano still dealing with the consequences of your choices. He was perfectly satisfied where he was and would've remained that way had he not been caught up in your plans. It was your arrogance that made you think Capitano would prefer to come with you. At no point in your first interaction had he indicated he was displeased in his circumstances, only hostile because humans were so close to him. It is an understandable thing, considering that humans were a foreign concept to him and potentially posed a threat.

"Because he overtook you?" 

There it is.

Despite her words, she appears to have dropped her irritated expression and the impatience in her words and actions. You are finally speaking, and she won't lose that opportunity to an avoidable break in her temper.

"No. No, nothing like that." You try to find the words to explain it, even knowing she likely wouldn't understand it in her current position. You doubt she could ever comprehend it with how she treats her loyalty. "It's more like… Off the record, though I was cherished for many years, even I eventually became disposable. I have left Capitano in the hands of the person who caused that, and now I have damned him to the same fate."

Arlecchino is silent in thought, mulling over your words with great care. The tone of the conversation shifted right under your noses, and with it, so did her demeanour. She became relaxed in a way, though you imagine no less guarded than she always is. "I fail to see how your performance declined. In fact, you are more necessary now than you have ever been."

"I see." In your head, that means she's on your side to a degree. "So you believe that my termination was a mistake?"

"A grave error at best." Her words only confirm the way you thought of it. "Even if you had declined in performance, the people have begun to question more than ever, which sabotages the political landscape of Snezhnaya for those who care about it, the same people who stood idly by while you were ousted. Those who oppose the Fatui are pushing the notion that we must be weaker than we appear, because if even Brighella could die, then what does that say for the rest of us."

Though you wish you could say that concept was inconceivable, the idea that those fighting for reform would seize upon your demise as a means to spur change. It's not shocking that everyone else has been called into question, either. Though it is easy to push the role of frontrunner onto the Director, his duty is mainly administrative, as is the case with many high-ranking positions. His wrath is quick and brutal, and sparse. Dottore is too busy with his disgusting hobbies, and Columbina must remain in the light as a figure they can cling to. That leaves the position of Fourth as the one who is publicly the most violent and ruthless, which used to fall to you.

"I see. Is that why they want me to come back?" You don't expect an honest answer as you ask that question, half anticipating another play at your heartstrings.

"No." 

Frustratingly, she doesn't elaborate.

"I'll only agree to return if Capitano is free to do as he wishes."

She scoffs, somewhat returning to her brash attitude. "Even if I could make that decision, we're well past the point where that's a possibility."

You know that she's correct in that.

Still, you can't stop the sight you let out. You knew the request was wonderful in theory but inconceivable in practice, but asking never hurt anyone. "Then what do you want from me? I take it that though I'm only a stagehand, my part in the theatre is not yet over."

"Is that how you see it?"

"Answer my question."

"Execution."

You pause at her answer.

"Execution?"

You're not even sure you heard her correctly. The execution of who? Brighella has already been put to death, and Capitano has barely warmed his seat among the Harbingers. Nobody left in this is worth killing, given the precarious nature of the Fatui's support in the aftermath of Brighella's murder. It was already unstable, and now things are just worse, with no better word to describe.

You doubt they made the decision lightly.

"Execution. Your execution for the murder of Brighella and crimes against the state."

Your nerves instantly spike again, and your guard is higher than ever. At any moment, you could need to draw your bow and fight her because even though you're unsure of how to treat this life, you're not ready to give it up. No foe has scared you before, and neither will the prospect of rebuilding from square one.

"I see, so you've come to extradite me."

"You read my intentions horribly. I'm impressed you managed to make it so far like that."

You furrow your brows in annoyance. "Then what?"

"The values of the Fatui no longer align with mine." The assertion draws your attention more than anything else. You have always been aware that she is unconcerned with the ideas of loyalty and honour, which you can't fault her for. Abiding by the code of honour the Tsaritsa instilled in you left you here.

You may be completely wrong, but she was so vague and doesn't seem to be waiting to say anything else. "Is this your way of telling me you're deserting the Fatui?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"You so happen to be someone I like." 

You're startled by that as well. As far as you were aware, the decision to do nothing in the face of your dismissal was unanimous. You thought Capitano was your only remaining ally. Even if she's the lowest ranking, that is not indicative of power in an objective sense but of authority. In a sense, she is the new 'you' of the Harbingers, as she always was to a degree. 

Blame for the disorder is shifting in your absence to her.

"Because I cleaned the messes you now manage?"

"Because you aren't cowardly and fixated on politics but inhibited by them. You are a model of what is right." You can't say you follow what she's saying but allow her to continue. "Pulcinella and even Pierro refuse to travel abroad, always making excuses to shirk their jobs when faced with danger in order to comfortably remain in luxury. From the day I joined, you stood out to me in that way."

You raise an eyebrow at her, unimpressed by whatever she's trying to do right now. "Are you trying to flatter me into coming back?"

"I was telling the truth." She doesn't look impressed, either.

You feel a little embarrassed by that, suddenly feeling as though you really had responded quite rudely to an innocent statement. "Hearing a person idolise me is strange," you admit.

"It's not idolising." Her correction is sharp.

"Sounded close enough."

Silence again, as with the pauses scattered around the rest of your conversation. You aren't catapulting the topic into something of great interest or progressing, and neither is Arlecchino. Her lips press into a thin line trying to hide any cracks and stifle any emotion that slips through.

"I admire you."

You did not realise such a thing was possible, really.

"I thought you may have remembered the times we shared and think fondly of it, but perhaps not. We fought once- maybe twice- before. We drank together. Nothing else."

To end that statement with 'nothing else' as if to reduce every conversation, interaction, hour and experience to ashes is thoughtless at best. You didn't remember either instance in which Arlecchino believes you fought and still don't, though you try to now that you have come to find it apparently happened. If it did, the chances of you actually remembering is slim to none with how your memory is. It's not that you forget things quickly, but that minor events slip through the cracks in your frankly chock-full memory.

"I don't remember them, I'm sorry."

"I didn't expect you to."

Despite her words, there is a faint bittersweetness to it, the realisation you are insignificant to the person you aspire toward being like. Somewhere, even if she is aware it was always not only a possibility but highly likely, it still feels like a letdown, the fragile hope you might remember her strength. You only remember her drunken and all too enamoured by you to think properly. It is foolish of her to feel that way because you have battled many foes, and expecting you to remember all of them, let alone your underling, is unreasonable.

"You still haven't answered my question." Changing the topic, you take the opportunity to try to direct her back to what you asked in the first place. "Why are you really here?"

"The Jester gave me permission to pursue you, believing I would attempt to convince you to return to Snezhnaya after Columbina failed." As Arlecchino begins to explain, it slowly begins to make sense as the pieces fall neatly into place. "However, I have no interest in appeasing the wants of dignitaries who care only for their comfort."

You don't want that either. It's just a repeat of Capitano. "Do you understand how dangerous what you're doing is?" It's an attempt to remind her, but Arlecchino's unwavering expression tells you that reminders are unnecessary and unwanted.

"Yes, you were removed for less." She only confirms it for you. "Dottore is of the opinion that you will be forgotten, as are several others-" you imagine singling him out has something to do with them fighting all the time- "but that is simply impossible."

"Times change. You would be surprised how many things we thought would never be forgotten that humans have completely lost all knowledge of."

To her, that concept may be harder to swallow. Arlecchino has never seen the centuries roll by as you have and isn't as familiar with what does and does not remain. Even the greatest gods fell in the Archon War, and most humans cannot name any but the seven Archons. It is natural to forget and progress. The past is meant to become speculation and theory.

"I won't allow that." Abruptly she stops, though her sudden words startle you somewhat with how intense they are. That kind of illogical thought process is natural, maybe. You can't really say. "They could remember."

You shake your head in response, a firm denial before she's even begun to try and sell you on the idea. "There's no need for them to remember."

"There is every need."

"People don't glean the same admiration you do for someone they see as a tyrant."

"Then evoke fear!"

"Enough." You did not expect to have to put your foot down so harshly but do not hesitate to. "I won't entertain this."

Arlecchino grits her teeth at how easily you let go. Even though you are obviously not acclimated to civilian life, you refuse her offer that would allow you to return to Snezhnaya in a potential position of power. It is yet another failed step in the many she expected to have to take to convince you.

"Then let me hide you until some time passes."

"I'm not a precious treasure." She ignores how you roll your eyes at her, completely withdrawing how emotionally available you had managed to be. She can't let her anger take control of her again. "I can handle myself thank you very much." 

You sense she will not be giving up easily.

Even if you could convince her to leave you to your devices and that you would be fine, you doubt she would accept that. However, you have a feeling she knows you intend to disappear after this conversation. You have no idea why else she would pour her heart out in an attempt to make you easier to keep hold of. If you leave, you hold the advantage.

"I cannot continue to defend your honour while you stand by and allow them to do as they please with your name."

That doesn't worry you too much when you've been contributing to it since leaving. "Then give up. Let my name be tarnished."

Arlecchno's anger finally begins to boil over despite her efforts to contain it, rage spilling from the cracks in her composure. "You cannot have forgotten everything we did together."

"Of course I have not forgotten that." Your words are more fuel than suffocation to the growing fire.

"Then accept my help and stop being so stubborn."

"There's no need to."

She grabs you by your arm before you can step away, and you can feel a chill in her hand seep into your skin, likely a byproduct of her delusion. It doesn't hurt, but it doesn't match well with how warm you are most of the time. "You would be willing to pretend you don't wish for normalcy to avoid confronting the Tsaritsa?"

"If I return to Snezhnaya, I will die." You lay it out as directly as possible, without an if, but or and. There's no room to debate this because the outcome will not change. Even if the two of you decide you're best friends, nobody else will see things that way, so it's pointless to pretend you don't see it as it has to be.

Arlecchino finally appears to consider your words more carefully, remaining silent again, but you do not interrupt her this time. You shift your focus to the icy hand still touching you and begin to channel what little you can of your vision without drawing your bow to warm her. You hope she doesn't notice it, not wanting her to find an ulterior motive in it.

"Then it is unavoidable."

You don't quite understand what she is saying until she removes her hand from you to place something on the table you shared.

Suspiciously, you eye the item as you wonder about the significance of abandoning it beyond the obvious, but you don't want to acknowledge that option. "You'll need your insignia if you wish to return." You needn't remind her of that, but it is a prompting statement.

Arlecchino shocks you with her next words.

"I'm remaining with you."

You stand in stunned silence for several seconds, replaying them over in your head. Remaining with you. She doesn't mean that, does she? This is another of her persuasion tactics, right? She cannot actually go through with this. "You're what?"

"I'm not going back to Snezhnaya."

That only confirms your fear, the chill of it rushing to the core of your being and lighting your nerves up with an icy cold. Maybe that's just the hand touching your cheek.

"You can't. You shouldn't. You should stay there."

She makes an odd face at you, half understanding of your plight and the other confused about why you care so much about what she does with her job. "In that place you curse yourself for leaving Capitano?"

"It's a comfortable position." You try to reason that way with her, pointing out the inarguable benefit.

"I don't care for comfort."

You scramble to find another reason, something else to make her give in and pick it back up. You have not gotten anything you attempted to get this night. Arlecchino didn't leave and is, in fact, intent on leaving the Fatui to continue that.

"I don't care to waste my time pandering to people who do not value what I provide for them, all the while relying on it."

That's not a reason you wish to say, but it is. It is a very real reason. You can see it in how the Fatui regards your circumstances that they have never found enough value in the mountain of work you took on. If they had, you wouldn't be having this conversation. She's right, you realise, she realised what you could not.

"Even if you do not allow it, I would be able to follow you." It's a strange thing to say, but maybe she was trying to convince you. Her arm falls back to her side.

You shake your head. "Humans tire."

"I won't be too slow."

It's different for her. Arlecchino doesn't hulk around a bulky suit of armour and a helmet to conceal her face. It is open and well-known. There will be places she can't ever travel to again. Her life will be this and nothing else, while yours will eventually become something else, as it was always supposed to. Even if you don't want to now, you will move on and find a new sense of self. She may never.

"There are grave consequences."

"I know."

"You may never know peace."

"I can live with that."

"You--" 

--will question everything you have ever known. That was what you were about to say. You again come to a realisation that clears things for you. It's different. Arlecchino has not spent her whole life dedicated to serving the Tsaritsa, only a few years at best. You spent centuries. It is no wonder that she could give it all up so easily. Arlecchino only had one foot in the door in the first place.

The realisation dawning on you this way is daunting.

"...Fine. I will accept that." Though you thought you would struggle more, you also understand that it is useless to do so.

"A good choice."

The act of conceding can bring about a sense of relief and comfort. Conceding feels nice, in a way. It is a respite from constantly controlling everything to be exactly as you wish. It allows you the freedom of simply acknowledging the reality of a situation and accept that it may not align with your ideals, even if you don't necessarily like it.

You don't want Arlecchino to accompany you for her sake, but accepting that she will not share your fate of being humiliated can bring about a sense of peace. She will live however she pleases, and that means she may not want for the same future you received. Having a free will allows her to leave.

Slowly, you try to recover from the shock of the situation. As you take in a deep, quivering breath, you begin to steady yourself and attemt to process all that is unfolding.

A single question comes to your mind, a relatively simple one but significant enough to matter greatly.

"What is your name?"

CROSSPOSTED ON AO3

[echoing--stars]

Hello worm. For your prompts, maybe Wind trying to show off to Wars how he’s just as much a hero as him despite his age? It can be fluffy or angsty, you decide. Also bonus points if Wind discovers Wars enlisted early and starts calling him a hypocrite

This was an amazing idea! I wish I could write more for it, but I hit a wall of fatigue (thanks flu shot and covid booster cries) so this is all I got. Maybe I'll come back to it!

(If you read this and would like to request a short snippet, see this post!)

Wind was sick of being treated like a kid. He didn't get as many watches as everyone else and never the second watch. They'd stopped early when he'd complained about the walk — even though Legend had been complaining for an hour. He was stuck with guarding civilians while the others battled the monsters. And now Warriors was getting his arm stitched up by Sky after taking a hit meant for Wind. He bided his time, however. Wind was mad but he wasn’t mean. He waited until Sky was finished with the stitches and bandaged Warriors’ arm. And then waited until they’d moved away from the battlefield and made camp. Warriors stood and stretched, then grabbed his waterskin, saying he was going to the nearby stream. Wind grabbed his own waterskin and followed. Warriors didn’t acknowledge his presence, but Wind knew better than to think he hadn’t been noticed. He wasn’t exactly trying to be sneaky, but he’d long since learned to not startle the captain, especially after a battle. When Wind kneeled down next to Warriors to fill his water skin, Warriors turned to look at him. “How are you doing, Sailor?” Wind pulled his waterskin out and slammed the lid back on. He rocked back on his heels before standing up. “How am I doing? I should be asking you that.” Warriors sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead. He stood up and stepped away from the water before turning to face Wind. “I’m fine. The cut was small and Sky took care of it.” “You took a hit meant for me.” Warriors froze for a moment, and his eyes met Wind’s. Like this, their height difference seemed greater than normal. “It—” “I’m not a kid, captain! I can fight my own fights! You don’t need to get injured to protect me.” “Sail—Link. That sword was heading for your back while you were engaged with another enemy. It was coming from your left, so you wouldn’t have been able to block it with your shield. I took a calculated risk to save your life.” Wind opened his mouth, but no sound came out. He’d known the enemy was there, had sensed the attack. But he hadn’t realized how dire it almost was. As much as he wanted to believe that he could have escaped the attack, he trusted Warriors’ battle experience to know what he was doing. “Okay fine. What about not letting me take second watch? And me taking fewer watches than everyone else?” Warriors tried to respond, but Wind cut him off. “Or putting me on guard duty while everyone else fought the monsters in Twilight’s world a few weeks ago?” Wind could feel the heat in his cheeks as he ranted. “I am just as much of a hero as anyone else. And I’m sick of being treated otherwise!” Wind took a deep breath. He spoke his final words soft and cold as a steel knife. “And one last thing. I overheard something the other day. That you lied about your age to enlist early. You’re such a hypocrite.” Warriors sighed and his shoulders fell slightly. It was as if he’d aged years just in the past few moments. Wind didn’t feel bad about it in the slightest. Warriors gestured to a fallen log a bit further away from the river. “Sit with me?” Wind huffed, but stomped his way over to the log and sat as far away from Warriors as he comfortably could.

“Link, I know you’re a hero. You’re amazing. Maybe even the best of all of us.” Warriors looked up to the sky where, the stars were just starting to come out. Wind scoffed. Fancy words with no substance behind them. “I’m serious!” Warriors said. “You’re the youngest of us, but your skill in battle rivals even the best fighters among us. You defeated Ganon and saved your world—” “Before you even joined the army,” Wind muttered and crossed his arms. “Exactly.” Warriors rubbed a hand over his eyes. “But that’s exactly why you should get to be a kid sometimes.” That made Wind pause. Warriors took the chance to carry on. “We all grew up too fast. Nearly all of us began our journeys before we reached adulthood. Some of us never stopped once we started, or at least not for many years.” Warriors expression was grim. It reminded Wind of the old man. “If I can give you — and all the younger heroes, for that matter — a chance to be a kid sometimes, I will take that chance. Over and over again.”

[seongminiz]

R U Mine ? - park serim

minors dni ; soft dom!serim x sub fem!reader ; 2432 words

warnings : jealousy/possesiveness , reader is insecure , praise , pet names (princess , good girl , baby) , fingering , unprotected sex , breeding , marking , does serim having a driving license count as mischaracterization ? , he also has a massive cock amen . an attempt at proper grammar but only partially proof read so if u find typos or me being an idiot n writing small comments in between no u didnt

first long-ish work i post on here feeling kinda nervous . no fr this is nerve wrecking idk im not good at writing descriptive smut ffs :D but i loved writing it ngl also something kinda upsetting happened today so it ended up a little more angsty than i intended it to be bc what r my fics if not insane projecting lol. the title is an arctic monkeys song bc oomf (elif) helped me change it (it was a lovejoy song before .... :] )

you and serim have been in a relationship for a few months now, and while of course you have some small arguments here and there, there have never been any big issues between you two. you love him, he loves you, and neither of you would ever doubt that. that is, until you end up being serim's plus one at some kind of event: you've been following him around all evening bc u have almost no idea of whats going on.

now, you're not usually the jealous type, you're okay with serim speaking to women other than you ffs that's his job, but the way some of them at this event are clearly flirting with him sets your jealousy issues off bad. watching your insanely handsome boyfriend be - or at least act - completely clueless about how they're clearly putting the moves on him, especially with how good he looks dressed like that, white shirt underneath his suit jacket straining against his toned body, leaving little to the imagination.. it pisses you off, to be completely honest.

you can't stand it, you can't stand how so many women, most of them you find clearly prettier than you, are able to get his attention like that, completely ignoring you even if you're basically clinging to his arm.you feel inadequate, just a mere presence they barely acknowledge with a small smile before going back to talk to serim. your serim.

what you fail to notice, though, is that serim is well aware of the shift in your mood. he doesn't know exactly what it's about, but he was pretty quick to sense how upset you had become just in a few minutes, trying to talk to as many people and as quickly as possible so you two could get out of there and he could give you his undivided attention.

of course, you don't know, too focused on dwelling on the jealousy building up inside you. you barely notice when serim gently shakes you, trying to catch your attention 'are you okay princess?' you sigh 'yeah.' your short reply isn't of any reassurance to serim, his thumb lightly rubbing your hip 'wanna go home?' you shrug, trying to hide your (very obvious) upset expression 'if we can, yes. but if you still have to... do whatever you were doing, we don't have to-'

'okay, got it. i'll talk to this one last person, and then we can go home, alright?' you nod, his arm leaves its place around your waist and you once again grab onto it, following his steps. your heart drops when you realize that, unfortunately, said person he has to talk to is a woman. which wouldn't even be that bad on its own, you can stand it for a few minutes (you really can't, but maybe you can convince yourself..), but she also happens to be the most attractive, hottest woman you've seen through the entire evening. you tune out the entire conversation, trying not to stare at her because everytime you take in another detail you feel like crying.

when serim finally cuts the conversation off, you politely - albeit coldly - bid your goodbyes to the woman, walking with serim out of the room and towards the parking lot. when you get to the car, you don't even wait for serim to open the door for you - he's dead set on giving you the full princess treatment - climbing in the passenger seat and slamming the door shut.

that's when serim realizes, this isn't just you feeling a bit under the weather, you're genuinely upset - and you weren't at the start of the evening, so he knows something that happened between then and now is the cause of your behavior. the fact you're giving him the silent treatment does irk him a little, but he knows that's how you act when something really bad happens, and he could never get mad at you for it.

despite his concern, serim still calmly gets into the car, turns it on and starts driving out of the parking lot and into the bright, artificially lit streets. glancing at you from time to time, he finds you looking out the car window, arms crossed over your chest, deep in thought. when you reach a particularly empty and straight part of the road, serim takes the chance to place his hand on your thigh, something you're both used to during your late night drives. what he doesn't expect, though, is for you to move your leg, wiggling out of his grasp (not that hard, since he wasn't putting that much strength in it in the first place).

serim raises an eyebrow, eyes still fixed on the road as his hand helplessly goes back to the wheel. his concentration on driving is what makes him miss the way you look back at him, concerned on whether you've gone too far or not. stopping at a red light, serim's eyes immediately find yours, desperate to get to the bottom of this 'what's wrong princess?' you shake your head, absent-mindedly reaching for his hand in search of any possible physical comfort. 'nothing, you're going to think it's stupid anyways,' you mumble. serim frowns, reaching to move a strand of hair behind your ear 'i would never. whatever it is, it's upsetting you, and I don't like seeing my baby like this.' his voice comes off more stern than he intended to, but his soft touch is there to remind you that he's not actually upset at you. he's just your concerned boyfriend.

serim moves his hand from the side of your head to your chin, tilting it so you have no choice but look at him 'so? what is it?' you pout. 'i'm jealous.' the look that crosses serim's face is a puzzled one 'what?' you shrug, averting his eyes 'you spent the entire night talking to other women, all better looking than me. i'm jealous,' you admit. serim is about to answer you, when the light turns green, the cold hue illuminating both of you. serim sighs, speeding up. 'we'll talk about it when we get home, yeah?' you nod, scared that you might have upset him. even if his voice didn't let that out, you can't help but wonder if he's disappointed in you.

serim parks in front of your apartment complex, a few seconds of you two sitting in the car in silence pass, until serim sighs, taking the keys and stepping out of the vehicle, making his way around it to open the door on your side too. god forbid he let you do it on your own again. you walk out, grabbing the hand he extended to you. everything is so silent, you again question if he's genuinely mad at you for how you acted. you knew you were being immature, giving him the silent treatment and all, you're just getting a taste of your own medicine, but you couldn't help it.

you were so caught up in your thoughts you didn't even realize you got to the elevator until the faint 'ding!' of it startles you. you step inside, never letting serim's hand go. 'you know i would never cheat on you,' serim breaks the silence, and your eyes widen in shock to the realization 'that's not what I was implying! i know you wouldn't! i just... those women were all so much prettier than me, and more mature and sophisticated, and hotter and... i'm just me. I felt so out of place, like i wasn't at your level. and it's totally not your fault! but i couldn't help but feel jealous, like I wouldn't even blame you if one day you decided i wasn't enough for you and left me for one of them. and i know you wouldn't but... it still hurts to think about it.' you start rambling, missing how serim tries to stop you a few times by calling your name.

when you finally look up at him, he has the softest smile plastered on his face and, before you can say anything else, he plants a kiss on your lips, his hands immediately finding their way to your hips. 'i would never chose anyone other than you. you're as perfect as you could be, i swear,' you can feel his breath against your lips as he talks, your heart beating furiously against your chest 'i don't care about any of them. you're all i need and you're more than enough, you're too perfect for me' he continues, only stopping to kiss you again. the elevator comes to a halt, and thats your cue to separate, but you know this isn't the end of it. serim's hand finds yours, as he lowers himself to speak into your ear 'i'll show you just how perfect i think you are, yeah?' he whispers, a shiver running through your body at the implication 'will you let me?' you nod furiously, your reaction making serim chuckle 'good girl' he says, kissing right below your ear before guiding you out the elevator.

the short way to your apartment is agonizingly slow, constantly interrupted by stealing kisses from each other and, when you finally manage to step inside, serim has you immediately pinned against the door, locking it behind you as he roughly kisses you. his hands are everywhere on you, your waist, your thighs as your dress slowly rides up to leave you more and more exposed with each movement.

'you don't even know how insane you've been driving me with this dress,' he groans, lifting you up with no effort and, as you wrap your legs around him, you feel his bulge pressing against you, a small moan leaving your mouth. 'serim... need you,' you whimper against his lips, a thin string of drool dripping from your lips onto his. serim smiles, capturing them in yet another kiss as he starts to carry you towards your shared bedroom.

he places you on the bed, your dress lifted all the way to your hips revealing your completely drenched panties. serim can barely contain himself, seeing you all spread out like that, for his eyes only, but he wants to make this all about you and your pleasure.

he starts to slowly undress himself, unbuttoning his shirt before slipping your dress off. your hands brush against his sides, tracing his defined body and tentatively going lower to rid him to his pants - no matter how many times you've seen him like this, it always leaves u in awe how a man this perfect could ever exist, and be your man at that. serim gently takes your hands in his, pins them over your head and places a soft kiss on your lips 'let me do all the work for once,' he says, hooking his fingers in your panties and sliding them off your legs.

before you know it, serim is three fingers deep inside you, opening you up for him bc no matter how many times you've taken him, you'll never get used to just how big his cock is. you've been incessantly whining for god knows how long, about how much you need his cock, you need him, and every time without fail serim replies that 'you already have me, princess, more than anyone in the world, you have all of me.' and proves his point by leaving yet another mark on your skin.

your thighs, your neck, your chest, every unmarked portion of your skin is soon bruised to the point anyone would assume he was the jealous one in the relationship. and maybe he is, just a little bit, recalling how revealing your dress - now discarded somewhere on the floor - was on you, so perfect on his princess but a little too perfect for any other men to look your way.

when serim removes his fingers from you, you're a mess, hair sticking to your forehead, breath heavy, tears running down your cheeks and ruining the makeup you worked so hard on for the event. but that's how serim likes you the most, when you're fucked out before he even gets to be inside of you, his pretty little mess, just for him.

and he tells you exactly that, as his cock finally sinks into you, groaning and rambling about how much he loves this sight, how he's so lucky to have you and how you're his and his only. the sweet praises partially distract you from the stretch, until he bottoms out and you both sigh in unison.

it's not long before serim starts thrusting into you, his pace picking up immediately but never getting quite as fast or rough as it usually would be. he wants to take it slow, savor the moment, his hand holding your hip while the other cradles the side of your face so your eyes don't stray away from him. it's hard to do so, when each thrust hits the perfect spot in you, as you fight the urge to let your eyes close.

'mine,' you moan against his lips, feeling him twitch inside of you 'all yours, princess. and you're mine too, can't stand it when everyone's eyes are on you, you're too pretty for this world.' despite the downright nasty predicament you're in, you can't help the way your heart fills with love at serim's words. you pull him in another kiss, your legs wrapping behind his back to push him deeper inside of you.

'then make me yours in any way possible,' you whisper. serim chuckles, slowing down his thrusts. it's not the first time he cums inside you, but before it was just a result of having unprotected sex. now it's a deliberate choice, to make you his in the most intimate way possible. 'yeah, princess? should i fill you up, mark you from the inside so everyone knows you're mine? would you like that?' you nod, squeezing around him as a particularly hard thrust hits a specific spot inside of you that has you letting out an high pitched moan.

serim's hand leaves your face, his rough fingers rubbing your clit and, before he can even tell you to, you're cumming, shaking as serim helps you ride out your orgasm and reaches his own, spilling inside of you as incoherent praises leave his mouth, telling you how good you've been for him and how much he loves you.

once you've both calmed down, serim presses a kiss to your forehead, holding you tight in his arms so that you can know you're really, uniquely his, and he's not going anywhere.

[sixtysixproblems]

welcome to my half-assed the chosen three are "good" au.

this is a lie of course, because only Ketheric is lawful good; Orin is chaotic neutral, and Gortash lawful neutral maybe lmao.

id say this is a fix it au but. no. not really. things are just marginally better for these 3 characters, and they do (less) warcrimes. but the Absolute is still a problem!

the new chosen three are Durge for Bhaal, Raphael for Bane, and uh. Isobel for Myrkul (I'll get to that).

basically, in tldr summary: adoption is a lovely thing and I blame Shar for everything. read more under the cut because this post is long.

Long version: Shar is responsible more actively for the shadow curse-- Ketheric stayed a paladin of Selune because Isobel doesn't die, but Justiciars still march on Reithwin and he is killed + Aylin imprisoned by Shar. I imagine Isobel only became a "follower" of Shar to try and make a deal to get Aylin back, but that failed, so she turned to Myrkul. Ketheric is revived by her/Myrkul, but earlier than Isobel was bc reasons.

anyways. he'd be around in act two, filling a similar but probably more active role to Isobel in the og plot. and him and Aylin save Isobel from Myrkul/convince her to stop because I'd be too sad otherwise

Now for Orin...Uh. Much more vague. Basically: Ketheric is a girl dad?

I've been toying with several ideas, but the one I think right now is Bhaal/Saverok was disappointed in Orin and abandoned her in the shadowlands instead of straight up killing her for some reason? Maybe they wanted to see what a shadow cursed bhaalspawn would be like, maybe it was a "she'll either toughen up or die so win win", idk. Anyways she's probably like. a toddler. three at max. because Bhaal is awfully. And freshly revived and confused as fuck Ketheric has a new daughter now. yay!

I think she'd be yoinked by the nauteloid, and sort of fill a joint tav/durge role.

anyways, onto the fucking slimy raccoon! it's his time to be yoinked by a stoic old man royalty-ish-guy! enter duke ravenguard from stage left!

I don't know the specifics, but Lawful Good TM Ravenguard trying to hold meetings-- that his feral tween foster child he stole from a devil keeps interrupting-- sounds really, really funny to me.

on a sadder note, Wyll's whole...situation. I imagine this would drive a very, very big wedge between Enver and the Duke because Enver would be inclined to believe Wyll because of his own history with Raphael. Also, I was stuck on what to do about Karlach if Enver wasn't evil-- maybe she still gets hired by Enver as a bodyguard, but Enver has her stay with Wyll while him and Ravenguard go to Elturel...So it's just her and Wyll vs the Cultists...And at some point in the fight she's somehow yeeted to Avernus...

and like! imagine how angsty it would be if Mizora sent Wyll after Karlach without telling him who she was! and the first time these besties see each other in 7 years is when one is sent to kill the other! fun times fun times.

anyways. as for what Gortash is up to. quite frankly I have no fucking idea. an idea i've been toying with is he's undercover in the absolute either on Ravenguard's behalf and/or for self preservation? and/or mindcontrolled by it to make the steel guard? or something like that? him & durge can have a "I cant fix this man, but I can fuck him. maybe that'll calm him down" dynamic lmfaoooo. he's probably still the most morally questionable.

Regardless of the specifics of what he's up to, he might have cameos or be communicating with Wyll somehow pre act three, but I think he only has a proper role then. And double regardless, with Raphael as the Bane chosen...I doubt he's having the time of his life. But he's a conniving little bastard. i'm sure he'll be fine.

anyways. meme time.

~-~-~-~-~

Halsin/Jaheira: what the fuck you're alive??

Ketheric: ...Reports of my death were greatly exaggerated. Anyways my daughter's kind of evil now, and not the Bhaalspawn one--

Jaheira: We left you alone for one century. One...AND YOU HAVE A BHAALSPAWN--

Halsin: I-- You're Orin's Dad????

~-~-~-~-~

Orin: wow Wyll your foster brother is really fucking annoying and also possibly evil. and also maybe fucking my evil brother. can we kill him pretty please

Wyll: can't say I haven't had thoughts myself over the time i've known him...repeatedly... but no

Orin: :(

Karlach: If it makes you feel better Orin, you may get to knock him out

Orin: :)

~-~-~-~

Wyll: Have care how y ou speak-- Gortash may be in league with the absolute, but we don't know his reasons yet-- and he's still a Ravenguard. And my brother.

Orin: He killed 80 people in two days with his evil roombas.

Wyll: ...

Wyll: he's adopted??

~-~-~-~-~

Alternatively:

Orin: Have care how you speak-- Isobel/Durge may be a follower of Myrkul/Bhaal, but she's still of House Thorm. And my sister/brother.

Jaheira: She/he killed 80 people in two days.

Orin: ....I'm adopted.

[fulloflambing]

just yap about my most recent work (how i made it, the alternate plots or endings), and my future posts :D

writing that story took soooo much brain juice from me i feel like my brain has become a wringed sponge. im honestly rlly proud i managed to finish it😭

ive had writing experience before here on tumblr but i never rlly put alot of effort into it and it often made me feel bad about how i finished my stories. i always just thought about a vague plot, typed away, and posted it. some people enjoyed it n i was grateful for that but whenever id reread my own stories it would make me criticize myself and make me unmotivated to write, which eventually made me delete my old writeblr.

but ever since i've come back, and especially with 'heaven can wait', i rlly took my time to rewrite things i didnt find fitting. ive stopped writing just to post, but writing to actually enjoy and better my skills. im honestly proud of myself for taking the time to do that because i am, truthfully, a very impatient person n i hate redoing things. actually, i rewrote the story by like the 3.5k word mark TWICE and made sure i was truly happy with it. the plot was actually supposed to go two ways!:

kinich would find reader in their home, and they could comfort eachother real quick in the house before kinich escorted them to the survival shelter. kinich would then make a promise to reader to come back alive and boom boom fighting wham he comes back to them and boom emotional reunion!

^ i changed my mind halfway while writing this because i wanted the story to have more depth and to make it more about reader and kinich both experiencing grief and negative emotions more. this plotline was just too lovey dovey and chill for my liking.

2. kinich reunites with the reader in the end by finding her dead asleep in the tribe's infirmary.

^ i didnt like this ending because i felt like it would've been a boring climax to the heavy emotions of reader as she was separated from kinich thinking he was dead. does that make sense? like it felt like a boring way to end off y/n's part after building up all these negative thoughts swirling in their mind just for her not to even see kinich come back from war to have those negative thoughts be swooped away from her in a romantic light. it was cute tho, kinich would've been whispering 'im home' as he admired reader as they recovered but i didnt want a calm ending for the story. i wanted a passionate, emotional reunion type :) like very 'light after the storm'-esque type of ending!

some parts of the story i dont like but i feel like is the part i could do for the story was how mavuika defeated the abyss? i CANT WRITE ACTION FOR SHYT!!!! so it took so much deleting and rewriting and paraphrasing it actually got me a headache just to write that small section 😭😭

on a more exciting note, the next thingy ill write is probably for kinich's birthday! im very torn about what ill write and when ill write it because i have exams right after kinichs bday so i dont think ill have time to write for it.

but after i figure out and post a birthday special for kinich, i'll be writing a more angsty, heartbroken-y story kind of related to 'heaven can wait' but if things went wrong. its really not an alternate ending, more of like "if it ended this way, this would've happened." its been a plot thats been marinating in my head for awhile and i think you guys will rlly like it! its gonna be angst with comfort but still sad ending hihi sorry.

i have alot of canon fanfic ideas that i wna write as soon as possible but i feel like i should switch it up and write some modern!au fics. and maybe with other characters (my other favs! capitano, xiao, thoma, etc.). i also feel like i have to prepare a 100 follower special soon but i have nooo idea what to do for it huhu THANK U BTW GUYS FOR 81 FOLLOWERS AAA IM SO TOUCHED

in short, i have a lot and i mean srsly alot of kinich ideas rn but my schedule is gonna be cramped this week. but after ill be free again! my problem is i just dont know what to write first 😔💔

anyway, maybe ill do a poll or something :) ILL SEE WHAT I CAN DO!!

if you've read this far, thank u sm and i appreciate it >< ill do my best to write as much as i can.

[griseldabanks]

20 Questions for the Writer

Tagged by @rainintheevening

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

131

2. What is your total Ao3 word count?

822,681

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Mostly Captain America/MCU and FMA these days, but I also have fics on AO3 for Daredevil, Dororo, Star Wars, Supernatural, The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time, and Tsubasa Reservoir Chronicle.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Make Me Whole (Captain America), Back from the Brink (Dororo), of skulls and secrets (FMA), Shards of Me (Captain America), and Your Arms Feel Like Home (Captain America)

Still boggles my mind every time I realize my second-most kudoed fic is the random Dororo fic I wrote for a Christmas present one year @_@

5. Do you respond to comments?

I make a point to reply to every comment I can! ^_^ I just really want to share my stories with other people and talk to them about them!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Hmm...of the ones posted on AO3, I'm not sure. Maybe "Rejected?" It's an FMA fic where Ed gives up his life to bring Al's body back, so that's pretty angsty ^^'

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Pretty hard to beat the ending of Make Me Whole ;) Reunions of old friends, heartfelt confessions, sobbing on each other's shoulders, followed by an overjoyed birthday celebration! The "epilogue" of sorts of Shards of Me might be even happier, though, because you get to see how good things turn out for them a few years down the road <3

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I don't think I have on AO3. I did very occasionally on FFNet (mostly from one particularly weird guy who had other issues besides the quality of my fics).

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope!

10. Do you write crossovers?

Yes! I love the kind of crossover where, rather than characters from different stories meeting each other, you just replace the characters from one story with the characters from another. My most recent, a FMA/Firefly crossover, is coming to mind - FMA characters replace the Firefly characters and go through the same basic plot as the first episode of Firefly. Another one I'm really proud of is "All We've Got to the End of the Line," where I put the Elric brothers in Steve and Bucky's position, and vice versa.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Years ago, there was one fic of mine that got translated into Spanish, I think.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes, though unfortunately most of the co-written fics I've worked on have not gotten finished before the relationship fell apart :/

But a huge shout-out to @sergeanttomycaptain, who helped me brainstorm my Whole Shards series and even wrote large chunks of it herself, though she's not "officially" a co-writer.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

My longest running OTP is Royai <3 I'll always love them and what the understated subtlety of their relationship has taught me. A very honorable mention goes to Staron - though admittedly, a lot of the stuff I love most is stuff I had to come up with myself because of how the canon ruined Sharon's character -_-

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

Years ago, I started writing a Haibane Renmei fic with a full cast of OCs, just because I wanted to explore that world more and try my hand at writing a story even halfway as uplifting and wholesome as that. Unfortunately, there was never really any plot to speak of, so while I really like the characters I came up with, I have no idea where to go with it, and probably never will because I have too many stories to write that I do know what I want to do with. Alas, Kabe the Sin-Bound Haibane will probably be consigned to the dust forever.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I think I'm good at writing endings, and judging from people's reactions, I'm pretty good at making people cry! But like...in a healing/comforting sort of way. I also think I have the strength of tenacity (or stubbornness, if you'd rather), to finish what I set out to do even if it takes a really long time.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Fights/action scenes. Intentional humor. Differentiating dialogue/thoughts so it really sounds like the character.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I'm always paranoid about doing that, even if I have a decent enough grasp of the language that I'm completely sure I know what they're saying ^^' But then, I'm the kind of person who will write something in English, my native tongue, and then second-guess whether that's actually the way to say it or whether I sound like an idiot. I'm trying to loosen up about such things, though, because more diversity in a fic makes it more fun.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Final Fantasy X. I started writing a novelization of the game before I even knew what I was doing was fanfiction!

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Ohhhh, that's really hard to narrow down. But one of the fics that's nearest and dearest to my heart is the fic I'm currently in the process of posting, Take Me In. Please consider reading it if you like Captain America!

Tagging @dairogo, @x-i-l-verify, and @x-rainflame-x if you'd like to do this!

[celestialpaperhaze]

Hmmm good question! Well I'm obviously biased towards BG but here's something that's been on my mind that I thought I'd share to see if you find it privy.

Doctor H.B. advances her computer tech that was originally used to simulate combat against bosses and such. With a few new toys and upgrades, she asks Team Snakemouth to test the computer to see if the enemies follow their original thought processes as if they're there or even alive again. But low and behold...the extent of the team's memories bring their deceased enemies...and even allies...back from the dead and into the digital world. Sentient and "alive".

Imo, a tough prompt that had me thinking about the various characters and who they cherished, along with writing a story that had little to no Canon character building. On top of that is the challenge of making these characters interesting to you and the audience while pushing the story more towards an exciting and angsty read.

Obviously this is just to poke your creative block! By no means is it a request or a demand, but what do you think? There's a lot of ideas I have of Kabbu and his...past. Lmk what you think!

Ooooh I think it’s a really cool idea! I’d be most interested in seeing how different characters’ backstories are brought to light, particularly those of Kabbu and Leif. If the story’s post-canon, Kabbu’s likely to have come to terms with his past already, but I feel like there’s still so much that can be explored even before The Event—like what was life really like in the North? Did Kabbu have other friends besides Master and Bit, and if not then why did he not branch out more socially? Did he just not want to, or did people not like him? And of course, Leif’s background is a goldmine in itself. I’ve always been kind of interested in how Muse’s life played out after Leif “disappeared,” especially considering she did have a kid. Like did Leif know she was going to have one or was she putting off telling him and never got the chance? And on another note, I wonder what Chompy would see…? Would she have memories of the Mother Chomper being defeated?

I feel like I’m almost getting off-topic here but yeah, there’s a lot of potential! As far as angst goes though, if it’s post-canon it would definitely have to rely more on original concepts than canon conflicts, since Team Snakemouth’s pretty much got closure on the canon stuff by the game’s end. Maybe I'll try writing a little drabble to play around with this prompt, though I’m not the best at OC territory (I have like, three OCs). Either way, this is definitely something I’d wanna see more of if you were thinking of expanding the idea! (Plus I’m curious what you mean when you say you have a lot of ideas for Kabbu’s past 👀)

Oh and btw, I’ve been meaning to catch up on your bandits fic, hopefully will soon!