#not all *instances* of kisses but all *constellations* | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

aureatchi · 5 months ago

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⋆ ✦ ˚｡⋆ THIS SUMMER NIGHT WE FIND SCATTERED DREAMS, I ONCE AGAIN RUN IN THE STARLIGHT ft. dazai, chuuya, fyodor, sigma.

— what it’s like to stargaze with them. (& more)

a/n. sadly, i have yet to see the aurora borealis and in general, seldom get to see the stars. (light pollution my no.1 enemy !!) but a girl can dream :) (& distract herself from the latest bsd chapters..)

info. fem!reader. fluff. soft everyone lol. some of them are nerds & ramble abt stars. :) + a little poetic. mentions of greek mythology. kissing. buildup to actual topic. profanities in chuuya’s & he may or may not use sskk to help. bsd manga/ability spoilers in fyodor’s.

DAZAI : so in this instance, i’d be perseus, and you’d be andromeda. — he listens to everything you have to say.

Your palm in his, the brunette’s pretty fingers wrapped around yours. He softly massaged your hand as you began telling him, your starstruck lover a story under the show of constellations. It had formed into a little routine since the first time you stargazed with him as a date.

“There was this princess,” you started. “Princess Andromeda. She was a very beautiful woma-”

“You’re more beautiful, though,” Dazai interrupted. You didn’t even get in two complete sentences without his commentary. You sat a bit awestruck while he delivered a kiss to your hand.

“Continue, bella,” big brown eyes teased you.

You hastily recovered. “…She was beautiful. And her mother—Queen Cassiopeia—who was very prideful, decided to brag to Poseidon, the Greek god of the seas, that she was prettier than his daughters.”

“I mean, that’s understandable. I brag about you all the time! Why shouldn’t the pretty girl be shown off?”

“Shut up,” you chuckled, reminiscing over the times the detective had shown you off. Whenever you decided to visit the Armed Detective Agency’s office with Dazai, Kunikida would never hear the end of it. When you two went out to eat, he would flatter your name away. “This gorgeous girl would like to order…” “May I please get a table for the angelic lady and I?”

He never failed to fluster you.

“Anyway, Poseidon got angry and decided to send a sea monster to destroy their kingdom. The only way the monster could be pacified was if it could devour Andromeda.”

“A damsel in distress,” Dazai nodded and then dramatically pretended like he was the helpless princess on the ocean. He completely pulled over the blanket the two of you were sharing, using it as a cape—“Someone save me! I’m going to be eaten by a sea monster!”

“‘Samu! I’m cold!”

“Ah, sorry. Perhaps you are the princess, and you need saving from this icy night!” He rewrapped the blanket over your shoulder.

“Stop interrupting me; I’m trying to tell you something!” It was nowhere near icy, but your lover proved his dramaticism even further when a tuft of brown hair grazed your shoulder. He had rested his head on you.

“Oka-ay—sorry, continue!”

“Meanwhile, Perseus—I told you last time, the man who killed Medusa—found Andromeda while flying over with his horse, Pegasus. He immediately fell in love with her, so he slayed the sea monster and rescued her from the rock she was chained to.”

“What a hero,” Dazai said. “So they lived happily ever after?”

“Not yet. Perseus asked Andromeda’s father for permission to marry her but discovered she was already set to marry someone else. And the man she was engaged to got angry that Perseus wanted to marry her.”

“Of course,” he sighed, which puzzled you a bit, but you’d return to his comment later. “I’m rooting for Perseus, though.”

“Well, good for you because the two fought, and Perseus won by showing the other guy Medusa’s head.”

Dazai chuckled. “Nice move! He turned his enemy into his trophy. Imagine if we did that to all our enemies!”

“I think then we’d have a whole army of statues,” you laughed. “But now, he and Andromeda married, and they were able to live happily ever after.

“The gods placed them in the sky so their story would be remembered eternally.” Finished with your recount, you gazed up at the stars.

“The North Star,” you pointed, and when you saw the brunette’s bronze eyes squint, trying to see what you were talking about, you moved closer until you were halfway on his lap.

You took his palm in yours and guided it to a single star.

“That one. All the characters’ constellations I mentioned in the story revolve around that star. Perseus with his sword, Andromeda flying on Pegasus...”

“Huh? That’s the North Star? Isn’t it supposed to be the brightest in the sky or something?” It didn’t stand out from the rest as much as he thought.

You giggled. “That’s a myth, ‘samu. It’s funny you didn’t know that.”

He shrugged. “I never really had time to appreciate and learn about something so peaceful like nature until now.” He turned to you.

“Until you.”

You weren’t sure how, but it was almost as if the moonlight had carved out his pretty face. Ethereal, you had called the moon, and it reflected in your lover’s features. His eyes took in the charm of the millions of lights in the night and synthesized the feeling to bring it back to you.

“If I were one of the gods, I would’ve created a whole galaxy reflecting your soul.”

In the midst of terror and chaos, the detective’s eyes revolved around humans and their violence rather than around the sun and the planets. Eyes and soul—how else could he focus on anything else when that’s all life showed him?

“Because I see the constellations in you—Andromeda, Pegasus, Carina, Orion…” it had been a few months, and throughout you had shown and told him all the stories behind the stars in the sky.

“And now I can stop to smell the flowers, love. I can watch the Ursa Minor, even if I still find it hard to sleep.” You were the bridge to his bronze gaze and iron marrow—you showed him that you were human, but that a heart could really exist without violence or malice.

I see a reason why the nebulas are placed as they are, even if stories are just stories. I see a reason I’m here. With you.

He sealed the thought with a kiss to your lips, under the celestial moon and the heavens’ watch.

You always wondered why Dazai paid such close attention whenever you started rambling—initially, you didn’t think he’d care that much about tales of space. But you understood him a bit better now, his complex heart. You held onto him a bit tighter to him as you kissed him back.

…

“Oh yeah. What did you mean when you said ‘of course,’ when I started talking about Perseus having to fight over another guy for Andromeda?”

And Dazai was his lighthearted self once again.

“We’re definitely Andromeda and Perseus in another universe,” Dazai winked. “You’ve always deserved to be treated like a princess! I would totally save you from a sea monster. And I’d be an equestrian if I could too—even better, a flying one!”

“Sure…”

“C’mon, bella, you see me at those horse-racing events all the time! Anyway, most important of all, I had to fight for you. Such a tough world when every other man is also at your feet.” He crossed his arms. “Having Medusa’s head would’ve made things so much easier! I really would’ve had a whole army of stone statues if I did.”

“No, you really didn’t need it at all,” you replied, laughing at Dazai, who was now pouting.

“Osamu the demigod: slayer of monsters or not, I only have eyes for you.” You kissed him on the cheek.

“Unlike Andromeda, I wouldn’t let two men fight over me and marry the one who wins.

“I would just choose you right away.”

CHUUYA : babydoll, you’re worth more than all those stars combined. — he only gives you the best.

“Ah, that’s unfortunate. Thank you for informing me, though,” you said before hanging up the phone.

You didn’t sue them on the line, albeit irritated. Tonight, you were supposed to have a date with Chuuya at one of the fancy restaurants he somehow discovered more of in the city when you thought you finally visited them all, but your reservations were cancelled last minute.

“Hey, princess,” the handsome ginger said when you phoned him next. You could sense a smile through his words on the other end.

“What’s up?”

“Weird-ass restaurant cancelled our plans,” you said. “Not even a refund.”

Chuuya quickly picked up on the disappointment in your voice, and he knew it wasn’t because he didn’t get his money back. Money was nothing—he was a Port Mafia executive. Stacks of bills piled into his hands every day, and he quietly flexed on it through his collection of wine in the cellar, his clothes, and gifts to you.

What he wasn’t wealthy in was time. It had been almost a month since Chuuya had any free time—the boss had been overworking him amidst never-ending Yokohama mayhem. His large penthouse actually proved to be a disadvantage when you were the only one staying in it. It was too empty; it was too quiet for a home, there was an awkward gap in the bed you slept in.

“It’s okay, baby,” came Chuuya’s voice reassuringly. “Don’t worry ‘bout some shitty-ass restaurant.

“Meet me home at the rooftop at the time we originally planned.”

“…Alright,” you replied, unsure of what he was going to do, but you were grateful anyway that you’d get to spend time with him.

“And get ready too, like we originally planned,” he added, and this time, you could imagine the smugness in his smile. “See ya soon.”

…

The bell chimed as the elevator approached the top of Chuuya’s apartment, signaling that you reached the rooftop.

“Chuu?” you called out as the doors opened. He was nowhere to be found—instead a pathway of candles and a trail of rose petals leading to the other side.

Your heels clicked on the ground as you slowly followed the course. It was dark towards the back of the rooftop, but the front overlooked the entire city of Yokohama.

Another quiet flex.

“Hey, beautiful.” You noticed him before the lively city behind him, before the romantic scene he had set up—the path of petals expanded into scattering around the table Chuuya was sitting at. He was dressed up too—looking as attractive as ever.

“The Nakahara Restaurant,” you hummed, taking a seat in front of him. “Not bad.”

Chuuya smirked. “Not bad? We get Michelin stars, baby. Trust me.”

You giggled. “I don’t know about that, Chuu. You’ll have to prove it to me.” It was like you had turned the tables on him. Usually, he only deemed a restaurant good if you were pleased with the food.

“Alright.” Now, you were going to rate his. You could tell he was going to enjoy this.

“You hungry?”

You nodded.

With a snap of Chuuya’s fingers, you immediately heard footsteps scurrying toward the two of you.

Two young men, one with raven hair until silver tips and the other with an entirely silver head—you realized they were waiters from who knows where—approached you with a dish.

“Appetizers by Executive Nakahara,” the first one said.

“Wait—did you cook everything too?”

“Duuh, you take this for a fraud or something?” Chuuya failed to hide the pride on his face.

…

The appetizer, entrée, and dessert proved delicious, and you were forced to eat your previous words.

He was talented in just about everything.

Chuuya kicked the two ‘waiters’ out of his house after dessert was served, leaving the two of you finally alone. The candlelight amid the dark sky enveloped your figures in an intimate glow.

“I would’ve been fine with even just takeout,” you laughed after taking a sip out of your wine glass.

He smiled. “As if. It’s a special night, doll, we finally have time to see each other again.”

“Exactly! Seeing you is what matters most,” you said.

“Anyway, thank you, Chuu. I appreciate this so much. And I guess you’re right—you earn a Michelin Star from me.”

Chuuya looked towards the city below you and back. “Didn’t doubt it one bit. But that’s not the only stars we’re getting tonight.”

You looked puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t get shocked.”

Your lover snapped again—you picked up a slight difference in it this time compared to the previous times he signaled—and suddenly, Yokohama went dark.

You didn’t know how, but the city’s electricity had completely cut off at the mafia executive’s command.

“Chuu—?”

“You’re not looking the right way.”

You had been staring at the pitch-black buildings below in fazed awe, but it seemed to have switched places with the skies as now, small scattered lights began to fade in when you looked up, your eyes adjusting to the dark.

“Chuu!” You stood up in excitement. “We can see stars! In Yokohama!”

The ginger chuckled before pulling out a folded comforter from under the table. “Here, it’s better this way. Now this is what the wine was really for.”

…

Chuuya had fixed the comforter on the rooftop and pulled out a few pillows so that you were able to lie down and watch above more comfortably.

“I did this a lot when I stayed in Paris for a bit,” he said, explaining how he got the idea. “But the lights stayed on 24/7 there, too, so I had to use a telescope.”

You looked at him thoughtfully. “We could’ve done that too. You really startled everyone just for this.”

As if on cue, you suddenly heard someone shout in the distance, going “Hey! Who the hell turned off all the lights?!” You and Chuuya both snorted.

“Just for you,” he corrected. “I think this is better anyway. They can handle one night without power. And I made sure the hospitals and other important establishments stayed untouched.”

It was crazy how much power the man had. “Not entirely evil then,” you said.

“Yeah, plus I was also really aiming at that restaurant that tried ruining our plans,” Chuuya smirked.

You looked back at the stars and then Chuuya again, who hadn’t taken his cerulean eyes off your face.

You lay together to gaze at the stars. But instead of those, he was looking at you.

You couldn’t stop the flurry of coyness you got. He looked absolutely stunning under the heavens—it was almost unfair. It would be if you weren’t the one who got to see him in such a state. He looked mesmerized—mesmerized with you?

“Hey, you’re going to miss it if you keep staring at me,” you said.

“I’m seeing you and those galaxies for the first time in a while,” Chuuya replied. “I think I’d rather watch you.”

He kissed you while you were still smiling, causing him to grin, too. You felt light and safe around him and the blankets, and he felt the same. All aggression and stress ceased from his head, healed by you and the moonlight.

“Y’can name stars after people too, right?” he asked when you pulled back. “I swear, I’m going to make the next scientist who discovers one name it after you. It’d be way better than those random shitty names they give nowadays.”

FYODOR : i have the cosmos mapped out, likewise your soul. — you alone, he adores.

There was not a word said as you got into the passenger seat of the car that Fyodor was driving. He had left a note earlier that day—Zolotse, you’re coming with me on a mission tonight. Prepare what you need and bring the sleeping bags, and you had done so with little hesitation.

The sun had already gone down, but you were used to this. Initially, you had thought his job the opposite of himself—the demon was called to bizarre places sporadically and had to adapt to their settings in a short amount of time. You only realized after being with him for a while that he planned these things beforehand, and he planned them long ago.

The job was made for him—his little game of fate and chess.

He drove for around four hours straight. In that time, you had put on your favorite music, and talked with him about the usual—your latest philosophical obsession, anything interesting about his latest endeavors—you hadn’t realized you had gotten so far away from civilization.

Fyodor must’ve become nocturnal from all the time he’d spent in the dark, because it was pitch-black in all directions when he finally parked the car and you stepped out.

And only then you finally asked him. “Fedya, where are we?”

He didn’t respond, instead going to the back of the car and opening the trunk, handing you your sleeping bag and a flashlight.

You flipped the switch on, trying to scan the surroundings for any hint of where this journey took you.

“Darling, you’re quite naïve,” Fyodor said as you looked down at rocks and twigs below your shoes. “I’m concerned about how easily you agreed to let someone drive you hours out into the wilderness.”

“I’d do it only for you,” you replied, giggling. “I trust you.” Alas, he had answered your question, though you still didn’t know what he was here for.

“Follow me. We have a bit of hiking to do.”

…

A secret hideout? Meeting spot? Something valuable hidden here? Your mind came up with countless reasons why your lover’s current mission took place on a mountain and how he could even navigate without a map. The entire thing was strange—you hadn’t even seen him take any valuables of some kind besides a tent and his own sleeping bag.

The walk-up was a bit tedious. Thankfully, you wore the right shoes and had eaten well beforehand, but you still didn’t expect you would be partaking in exercise so late at night. It was also hard to see, the flashlights scarcely making a difference.

You came across a very steep hill; it was almost like you had to climb rather than hike up.

“Apologies for the inconvenience,” you heard Fyodor from above as he went first to ensure each step was safe. “It’ll be worth it later.”

“Ah-” You hardly had time to ponder his statement when you misstepped on a loose twig, causing you to slip. However, a hand reached to tightly grab you before you slid down.

“Careful, milaya.”

Fyodor kept your hand clasped in his throughout the rest of the trek. You finally reached a large clearing by the edge of a cliff—devoid of trees and hard bedrock.

“We’re here.”

He began setting up the tent while you looked around. There was nothing at all out of the ordinary—nothing suspicious for the demon to use. Were you really here just to camp?

“The goal: your eyes to adjust.”

Fyodor had finished and had been looking at you for some time—smiling, at the way your brows furrowed and how you were still lost with this entire night.

“What-?” you asked as he walked over to take your sleeping bag. You followed him as he set it right next to his.

“Sit next to me, lyubov,” he said, guiding you down. “I’ll tell you the secret to getting directions up here.”

He tilted his head up, and for the first time, you noticed an entire galaxy before you.

…

Drenched under the vastness of the dark skies and lights of the stars, Fyodor began to speak.

“We’ve used star navigation for thousands of years,” he said. “Fifty-eight stars and thirty-eight constellations that we’re able to use, but you only need to locate the Ursa Major to find north and Orion to find west.”

You nodded. Perhaps this is what he had come here to do—find directions to something that no GPS or technology recorded. He had probably taken you along just because he thought you’d admire the view and how you did. Fyodor was right—the walk-up was worth this view.

It was like you were in a trance. You had seen stars, but nothing like this before. The entire Milky Way galaxy was visible to your eyes, countless little suns that seemed barely out of your grasp, even though they were millions of miles away.

“Fedya, how many of them do you recognize by name?”

“By now, I have them all memorized because I’ve found it helpful. If an apocalypse surged the earth, they would still be there. If the world ended, they would still be there. The cosmos remain untouched by us—they watch humanity dance from afar. The nomads knew this the best—when we traveled, we relied on nothing but nature.”

You wondered how many body transfers it took for him to retain them all. There were so many little lights in the sky, it seemed near impossible to be able to gather even half in a mind’s jar. You guessed tens of years at the least, and even with that time, you knew only he could do it.

“You commend them too, don’t you?” you spoke, taking a risk in guessing his views.

“Elaborate for me.” You made eye contact with him, and amethyst eyes fawned over by the night almost enticed you even more than the entire view of the universe afore you.

“You appreciate them, and everything else that lays on the earth after the sun sets because they hold no flaw. They aren’t blemished by the foolishness of people.

“You can be at peace with them because they are perfect, unlike us.”

“You’re right. The perfect mankind would be as pure as the sun and the stars—untainted by something as unnatural as abilities. That’s how I see it, but why group yourself in such faults?”

“Hm?” was the only sound you were able to get out, when he grazed his fingers along your face, cupping your cheek.

“Printsessa, you are perfect.” He spoke smoothly, rich accent making his words sound like a lullaby.

“Your soul dances with the kosmos. Something so divine—you are the harmony of something as beautiful as what we see tonight.

“You are the only one who matches the heavens; my love, you surpass the heavens.”

He captured your lips in a kiss, and you only registered then that it was you two alone. It felt like you two were the only ones in the world with the witnesses to your love being the ends of the horizons, and that the universe who put on a show in the sky instead turned to watch you.

…

“Fedya…what was the mission?” you asked softly as you cuddled with him, your hands reaching for his silky hair as you lay on his chest.

You felt his smile. “You’re still so naïve, darling; you didn’t have to think so much. The mission was to bring you here. It’s been a while since we’ve gone out, has it not?”

SIGMA : i’ve never seen it before! (the aurora borealis) — he learns what love is through you.

“Sigma, baby, let’s go!”

The man had a slightly puzzled face as he let you eagerly lead him outside, past your home’s backyard—into the hills beyond. Other than the Sky Casino, it was your favorite spot, especially when you wanted some peace away from the rest of humanity and its industry.

Your lover was utterly confused why you made sure he did not fall asleep this evening. He always went to bed far earlier than you and rose while you were still lost in dream—perhaps snoring—but tonight you insisted.

And Sigma followed, even though he was at the verge of passing out from exhaustion—managing a casino was hard. He let you take his hand and direct him, even without a clue of where you were going.

Maybe that was what love was—blindly following another.

“I have a surprise.” You slightly turned your head back to look at him, and he swore he would remember this scene forever. His hand still clasped around yours, the warm glow of the back porch’s bistro lights cast upon your face, and your sweet smile—though it was dark outside, he felt that your smile lit up his world more than all the stars combined in the night sky.

The cosmos were a new thing for him. You had introduced watching the stars to him, in this special place beyond your backyard.

Immediately after his first time learning what the Big Dipper was, and that the little lights in the sky were actually much farther than they seemed, he called for a viewing deck to be created for the Sky Casino.

That way, even on nights away from you and home, he could still gaze at the same stars, and for you as well if you wanted to visit.

“Are we stargazing?” Sigma asked as you ran up one of the hills with him. He held a chuckle to himself. You didn’t bother to change out of your pajamas. You were so cute.

“It’s a little different this time,” you giggled, setting down a blanket for the two of you to sit. Before, you would bring foldable chairs, but you realized that they made it a bit difficult for you to cling onto Sigma when you wanted to cuddle with him.

“We should start to see it in just a few minutes,” you said, looking up.

“Okay…”

The stars were there as usual. Sigma had never thought that something as pretty as your heart could exist in something physical, but that was how he saw those small lights in the sky.

If only you knew that whenever you decided to talk about how beautiful the skies were at night, he wanted to say they were literally just a reflection of you.

As soon as the clock on your watch hit the next hour, you immediately grabbed Sigma’s arm in enthusiasm.

Now he was really starting to wonder what got you so jumpy.

“Hey! Do you see it?!”

Sigma caught himself so distracted by you that he was watching your face instead of where your eyes were looking at.

He blushed when you looked at him, but thankfully you remained oblivious to his embarrassment.

“The green light! Do you see it?”

Sigma looked up, and he saw what looked like sliver of green contrast the dusky sky.

“That’s natural,” you began to explain. “It works through the earth’s magnetic field colliding with the atmosphere.

“Watch how it dances.”

A show started to unfold before the two of you. Sigma watched as the small touch of light became even brighter, transforming into a ribbon. He watched as the ribbon began to travel across the sky, overtaking the darkness. He watched in awe as it was joined by another green stream, traversing the horizons together.

“Wow,” you both said in awe.

“It’s called the aurora borealis,” you spoke.

“You can see it regularly if you travel way up north, but it’s a rare event here.

“I wanted to experience it with you.”

Sigma turned to look back at you, butterflies in his tummy and a surge of warmth overflowing his heart when he met your face—cheeks glowing from the reflection of the chasma and your eyes full of adoration.

“With me?” Sigma asked.

“Of course,” you replied, pulling him up. “Look Sigma—a new color joined.”

He glanced up, seeing that a new hue had appeared, aligning itself with the green. A pinkish light had mixed itself in, creating a swirl of paints on the sky’s pallete.

It really seemed like the lights were dancing. And Sigma thought to himself—like me and her.

You seemed to have the same idea because you had taken his hands in yours and started to whirl him around. It was messy—a bit chaotic, but he let himself be dragged along for a bit until he got dizzy, because maybe love was blindly following someone.

Eventually, Sigma started laughing, and couldn’t be thrown around any longer. “Calm down, love!” He took control of the dance, guiding your steps so that it turned into a more organized waltz.

He became captivated when he twirled you around—even though you were in your pajamas, you couldn’t look any less beautiful. He had danced with you in ballrooms, in gardens, but this unrehearsed night was the most enchanting of all.

…

You two danced until your feet started to hurt and Sigma’s exhaustion finally got the best of him. Now, you lay together, watching the rest of the night’s act play out.

“Whenever I look at the nebulas, I only think of you now, you know,” you confessed. “Because even if you’re up there, and I’m down on earth, we’re still looking at the same stars together.”

“I think the same,” Sigma replied. “It’s like we’re always connected in some way.”

You nodded with a smile, but you realized Sigma wasn’t finished yet.

“Actually, it’s more than that. I can only think of you when I see those things because all beauty leads back to you. I see your kindness in the sun and your energy in these colorful lights. I see your perseverance in the moon and most importantly, how many hearts you’ve made shine in the stars.

“And whatever ends up the brightest at night is mine, because you’ve warmed my heart the most.”

Your own heart was beating fast, by how your lover had spoken so tenderly to you and by the way he had rolled over towards you so that he was so close now—his lips just shy of yours.

“Sigma,” you whispered, and then you pulled him into a kiss.

It was then he finally understood: love wasn’t about blindly following another, he followed you because you were a blessing of trust, carrying the stars of devotion on your hands.

i heard if you rb, u’ll be able to watch the stars w/ ur fav tn !! reblogs are cherished; they are what support me the most. <3

this fic wouldn’t have ever seen the light, weren’t for @cheriiyaya (hi); thank u bby for encouraging me start to finish. <3 a lil prompt inspo for dazai & fyodor from her. ^_^

p.s. did i imply a past!love triangle in dazai’s scenario? yes. was i referring to the fyozai ‘til death we do art love triangle? maybe..! actually, for some rzn, i included many things here that foreshadow other fics coming soon. stay tuned :)

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papiliotao · 1 year ago

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꒰ 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒚𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒏𝒈 ✩࿐

pairing: lyney x gn!reader

content: fluff, modern au, high school au, friends to (almost) lovers, mutual pining, theatre kids, lyney and the reader rehearse a kissing scene

summary: playing the role of his lover in a drama production is easier said than done, especially when you’re just beginning to realize the nature of your feelings for him.

a/n: i had no inspiration for a while but then lyney came along. i’m so normal about him. anyway, i hope you enjoy reading!

When you were told that you had to kiss your best friend for a school play, you were in shock and disbelief — not because you were repulsed by the thought of playing the part of a couple, but because you realized that you didn’t mind the idea of his lips pressed against yours.

You’re not quite sure when the feelings crept up on you, dawning in your heart like hazes of peach and azure that dust the horizon at sunrise. It feels like it’s been an eternity since you started loving Lyney, but you’ve simply never noticed that your adoration was beyond platonic.

But after experiencing your epiphany, you’ve been wondering if he shares your rose-tinted sentiments. Slowly but surely, you observe that the lines between friendship and romance have become blurred, fusing together in a myriad of watercolour hues.

Every once in a while, Lyney will hold your hand for no reason, the delicate softness of his skin comforting like morning sunlight. There are also instances where he’ll hug you for just a little too long, clinging onto you as if he never wants to let go. And of course, you’ll never be able to forget the sentimental nights spent gazing up at murals of sparkling constellations dotting pristine navy skies, where you'll cuddle with your best friend in an attempt to stay warm.

In these instances, a simple question lingers in the short silences, an untold inquiry that neither of you care to utter in fear of shattering the status quo.

What are we?

Now, as you sit across from Lyney atop the velvety cushions of his living room couch, ready to rehearse very kiss that sent you spiraling into a bout of infatuated hysteria in the first place, your heart can’t help but race. The melody it sings is one that speaks of perplexing feelings and a hope for fairytale endings, and it only amplifies as you look into pale violet eyes that sparkle as iridescent petals flutter about in their depths.

“I’m ready whenever you are,” Lyney whispers, smiling at you reassuringly. There’s something soothing about the expression on his face, embodying the serenity of a gentle zephyr in the midst of a cruel summer.

“How can you be so calm when we’re about to practice a kiss?” you ask, voicing your thoughts out loud. “What if we’re not good enough?”

Truthfully, you’re a nervous wreck. Your fingers tremble, and your mind feels blank. You’ve always known that Lyney was born to be on stage, but you didn’t think he’d be so nonchalant in a situation like this. His disposition is completely composed, not a single spark of anxiety shining through his tranquil demeanour.

On the other hand, you’re constantly pondering the what ifs.

What if you mess the scene up? What if it turns out looking awkward? What if it’s so horrendous that it makes the audience uncomfortable.

However, in total contrast to you, Lyney simply chuckles, his voice ringing out in a clear and soothing fantasia.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures you, keeping his gaze fixated on you. “I’m sure our chemistry will be absolutely perfect. After all, even Lynette has mistaken us for a couple.”

“She has?” you blurt out, both shocked and embarrassed that Lyney’s twin has had her misconceptions about your relationship. The two are practically telepathically linked, so the tall order of fooling Lynette would more or less be akin to deceiving the heavens above.

“She has,” Lyney confirms, a mischievous spark of violet electricity blazing through his irises, “and that’s why I’m certain we’ll be able to pull this off flawlessly.”

He gently laces his fingers around your hand, bringing it up to his chest.

“Besides, it’s not like I’m not nervous at all.” From beneath the soft fabric of Lyney’s clothes, you can feel a gentle thrumming, a beat that resounds at a tempo matching that of your very own heart. “You know, even the greatest of performers get stage fright sometimes.”

In a mystifying twist, you feel more comfortable now that Lyney has told you that you’re not alone in your anxiety. Your relief defies all logic, but perhaps it’s the knowledge that your feelings aren’t entirely unreasonable that soothes your nerves.

“I see,” you whisper. “Well I’m sure you’ll do great. We’ll get through this together.”

Lyney nods.

“I’m just glad it’s you,” he says, pausing for a moment as if deep in thought. “Actually, ‘glad’ would be an understatement. ‘Beyond overjoyed’ is more accurate.”

Your breath hitches, and for a second, the world seems to still, suspended in a momentary utopia. Yet despite your giddiness and the euphoric feelings that arise in your heart, you shrug Lyney’s words off, trying your best not to get your hopes up. If you expect too much, you might find yourself disappointed in the end.

“The feeling is mutual, but maybe we should get to rehearsing now. I think I’m ready,” you tell him, pulling your hand out of his grasp in a light motion, clinging onto the last of his warmth as his skin grazes yours. It’s reminiscent of fading sunlight, comforting you with the dazzling radiance of a dying crepuscule, lulling you into a daze as it parts in shades of twilight that waltz in a dance of fantastical wonders.

“Your wish is my command,” Lyney responds playfully.

However, after only a few seconds, his features shift into a more serious expression. Although the same smile is still adorning his lips, it’s softer now, more sincere.

Is this all part of an act, or is it real?

An unidentifiable emotion now glints in Lyney's eyes in a display of diamond lights, illuminating seas of magnificent amethyst. Locks of platinum hair, composed of starlight essence, frame his face in a way that makes him look undeniably handsome. Once again, your heart, which had just barely stilled, begins to beat in a frenzy.

You want nothing more than to freeze time, stay in this ephemeral moment, relish in the sensation of his breath gently tickling your skin and engrave the ethereal sight before you into archives stored deep within your memories. But unfortunately, it’s impossible to pause the scene before you. Reality, unlike the countless movies and videos you’ve watched to study your part, stops for no one.

And before you know it, the divide between your lips and Lyney’s is diminishing, the blank space fading at a pace that feels both far too rapid yet far too prolonged at the same time.

Closer.

And closer.

Until your lips meet in a clash of opalescent sparks, shedding light and embellishing the magical moment with an atmosphere worthy of any stage. The lilac butterflies that dance in the pit of your stomach prompt sensations of glee to arise within your heart.

His skin is soft and warm, and the feeling of his lips against yours is just so right. There’s no one else you’d rather kiss. There’s no one else you’ll ever long for. There’s no one in the world you’ll ever love more.

No matter how much you deny it, your relationship has crossed the line from platonic to romantic, gradually edging closer and closer to an unclear border before definitively falling over onto the other side. Your kiss with Lyney confirms everything. There’s far too much passion, far too much care and longing exchanged in a single act of affection.

Best friends don’t kiss each other like this.

At this point you’re certain the feeling is mutual. Now, all you have to do is wait until one of you inevitably confesses, and you’ll both be able to finally live happily ever after, basking in the splendor of true love.

thank you for reading <3 if you enjoyed this fic, i would really appreciate it if you could comment or reblog!

#r.archives *ೃ༄#favoniuslibrary #astronetwrk #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney fluff #genshin impact x reader #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin impact #genshin #genshin fanfic #genshin lyney

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byhees · 2 years ago

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the intimacy of hands.

엔하이픈 ・ female reader + word count 1000 genre fluff established relationship warnings not proof-read kissing skinship petnames — more

a/n. revamped version ><

hold | heeseung

would get a teeny bit pouty when you wind up getting distracted from a conversation, eyes fixated on another object by the background; “hey, look at me too, babe”, he’d start, and when that served fruitless, he’d raise his hands to gently cup your cheeks, fingers softly brushing against your skin. “as i was saying,” a little pout, “how do you like my hair?”; and you’d just gawk at him, needing a quick second to recollect yourself from the momentary fluster.

intertwine | jongseong

finds every excuse in the book to intertwine hands with you; can’t blame though— he simply adores the warmth and softness of it all; would suggest such out of pocket, and completely random things just to give himself the right opportunities to interlock fingers with you; for instance, when baking, he’d suddenly say, “how about we mix the batter together?”, leaving you in a confused state; without much explanation, he’d wrap his fingers around your free-hand, swinging your intertwined hands in the empty space. “there! and if you get tired, i’ll transfer some energy over to you!” that’s not exactly how it works, but you’ll let it slide.

win | jaeyun

him being your number one supporter; always present for significant moments in your life, like your graduation, or maybe a win in a competition; you could just scan the rows of attendees, and you’d spot his twinkling eyes, as well as his handmade banner spelling out your name in bold, cute stickers of balloons and animals pasted all over the empty space; would also be there for the smaller moments, such as your first successful batch of cookies, or your first time solving those ‘only 0.000001% of people can get this right!’ kind of quizzes; whenever you walk up to him, regardless of whether you’re holding a medal or your phone, he’d lovingly wish you congratulations, snaking a hand and resting it on the small of your back to pull you close, and pepper your face with celebratory kisses.

lay | sunghoon

would go stargazing together with him; laying a gingham picnic-mat in the midst of a grassy field located at a nearby park, and gazing at the pretty skies above; him actually being pretty good at pointing out constellations, often times filling you in on the identity of said patterns. you, on the other hand, simply enjoyed being in his company, making out random images from the stars; “that one looks like a pineapple, no?” he’d giggle softly at your revelation, replying with a soft “not quite, but whatever you say, angel”; would often outstretch his hand, resting it on your own and tracing little constellations on your palm.

squeeze | seonwoo

is always there to help you out, especially during stressful moments; making sure that you’re all prepped and ready for a big presentation; going through your lines with you, and giving little feedbacks afterwards; on the big day, he’d wrap his hand around your clammy ones to offer affirming squeezes. “hey, hey! don’t panic, love… just remember what you recited to me last night, and you’ll be fine. trust me”, cherry on top is that he’d give you a peck before you’d leave.

hug | jungwon

is honestly so, so clingy when it comes to you; you’d be minding your own business, say washing the dishes, when a pair of arms would suddenly wrap around your waist, embracing you in a back-hug; he’d rest his chin on your shoulder, hands resting on the dip of your hip. “you were gone from bed for too, too long… i miss you already”, and here you’d be, trying to roll up the sleeves of his shirt to prevent dish soap from staining them; “it’s okay, babe.. can we just stay like this for another minute?” he’d bury his face in the crook of your neck, fingers lightly fiddling with the hem of your shirt.

wipe | riki

the type to notice even the most minute of things; say, a tiny, almost minuscule, streak of frosting on the corner of your lips— that he’d notice as well; would lean forward, extending a hand to wipe off the little bit of icing on your face, unintentionally putting a stop to your train of thoughts; “this bakery makes such tasty cakes! we shou—“ and he’d casually lean back in his seat afterwards, propping his elbow on the table, and resting his chin in the dip of his palm. “you were saying, love?”, but you’d be so flustered with all these butterflies soaring around your stomach, that you’d just pause for a moment, a light pink hue dusting your cheeks.

taglist open! @halcyoni-ki @wondipity @yjjungwon @shysakuno @niktwazny303 @vnsux @minhosify @haechansbbg @yeomha @stepout-09-15 @chansburgah @sona-verse01 @lilly-bubblelops @smouches @mrchweeee @luvistqrzzz @nwjws @ibsysbsfsunsbs @rikisly @amyysfics @mixtape-racha @berry-and-kkami @rikislady networks! @kflixnet @enhanet @k-labels

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mystically-yours · 7 months ago

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What if...?

The feminine urge to write something about Barbatos admiring the MC from afar. I'd love to call this idea "To Every 'You' I adore" and honestly I'm digging it.

♡.. In a scenario where in almost every universe, almost every timeline, the MC chooses anyone BUT him. Although instead of taking action, Barbatos swallows it all down, often watching MC from a distance. Was it fair to think luck was on the human's side?

♡.. When Mammon took MC to the casino, they seem to have won every bet.

♡.. When Leviathan told MC about this raffle to get tickets to a concert of their favourite idol, they seem to get that PLUS VIP access backstage.

♡.. With Satan they went to the finest of cafés and tasted the most delicate of confectionery. With Asmodeus MC kept 'accidentally' trying new garments for them to love. With Beelzebub it's all you can eat, much to the sweet grin they had while wiping off the crumbs off the sin's face.

♡.. With Belphegor was special; MC's constellation perfectly aligned at the time of their date — so they themselves could admire from afar.

♡.. With Solomon they'd fly through the skies in a hot-aired balloon, looking down at city lights of a new place. Or better: new to Solomon, but held deeply in MC's heart. A place that they themselves could admire from afar.

♡.. With Simeon, MC could accidentally spill ink on the parchment, and instead of ruining the page it created waves of gray; a scenery of inspiration for the setting of the angel's new story. A place so far, to be admired in the lens of the reader.

♡.. Lucifer would comment at how MC's luck was astonishing, terrifying even. It's odd to think how a mere human would always have good fortune. Almost always.

♡.. With Lord Diavolo, MC would go and chuckle at their humble remark, while the prince's lips placed soft kisses on the human's knuckles. How their smile brings light in the darkest days of the harsh coldness the Devildom brings. The sheer warmth present in their every word. It's not always the case, but that was how he viewed it.

♡.. Barbatos would put up an indifferent smile, watching the human mingle with his lord. It was in one of these instances where even with the immense ability to control time, he felt powerless. Much to the fate's dismay, this was when he hated the path of destiny. In almost all outcomes, it was least likely he'd end up with his beloved. How he adored MC, even if they were bound to never be his.

To quote: "Even with how repetitive this scene gets, his immortal beloved never ceased to amaze him like the very first time."

Who knows? It sounds almost like a lovesick idea as I myself am unsure if this leans more on fluff or angst. Tell me if you guys liked the idea, or how you may suggest that I improved it! ^^

Aka this is Vee's Barbatos brainrot since I've been craving Barb content but also very specific kind of Barb content so this is me attempting to fill that void before Solomon or Mammon take over my writings.

Anyhow, that is my "What if?" Scenario! :D

That is all and have a nice day~! 🫶

#obey me nightbringer #obey me!#obey me #obey me barbatos #canon x reader #barbatos x mc #barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos x reader #what if #ideas #fanfic ideas #fluff? angst??? a guilty pleasure #live laugh love barbatos i wish time was real #admiring from afar #obey me shall we date

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sakkiichi · 1 year ago

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AUGUST.

Glimpses of the departed month go by as you reminisce by the sea.

ft. Kaedehara Kazuha x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff, romance.

I honestly don’t know how to feel about this piece… definitely not my best work, but I wrote it, so I’m posting it. I hope someone still likes it.

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

Blue.

Said alone, the word might have had a tendency for melancholy, cold, turbulence.

However, if anyone were to ask you right now, you’d deny every negative connotation the color might have ever been related to.

Because to you, blue was dusks by the sea; moments right after the last coppery rays had hidden behind the expanse of an ocean you could only wish to unveil all secrets of.

And perhaps, you liked this moment of day because the infinity of blue before you mirrored the feelings in your heart at ease.

Feelings of unbridled affection, boundless love.

For him.

Fair hair falls over his shoulders, like silk weaved out of stars, its tips illusory rose with the fading daylight. His eyes are closed against the marine breeze, flecks of moondust clinging to his lids, casting enchanting shadows over his cheeks. His shirt has been discarded, droplets sliding down his bare torso, as if he had bathed in a pool of starlight. A black leather cord rests against his tempting collarbones, a vibrant scarlet maple leaf charm dangling tantalizingly over his chest.

A dreamy sigh escapes your lips, mingling with the sounds of foamy waves lapping at the white sand.

Kazuha.

He was always nothing short of ethereal, but something about him in the dimming light of a late summer’s nightfall, felt inherently magical.

“I’m going to miss this, Kazuha.” You finally say, resting your chin on your boyfriend’s shoulder.

He gently leaves a kiss to your forehead, his hand finding yours over the towel you’re sitting on. Scars jut like jagged rocks against which waves break, in the same way lightning snuffed out a life dear to him all that time ago.

And yet, the smile on his lips is almost palpable when he says:

“We’ll be able to come back, my dove.” His thumb runs soothing circles over the back of your hand. “Before we realize, summer will greet us again.”

You chuckle. Kazuha had such a poetic way of approaching things; even when the sun went pitch black, he would forever remain a beacon of hope to you.

“I know, I know…” You clarify. “It’s just… I wish I had more free time to spend with you like this during the year…”

As much as autumn brought found memories and your beloved’s birthday, September always had a tendency to leave you yearning for the long days of summer.

Echoes of August replayed behind your eyelids every time you closed them, reminiscent of stolen instances held in the brief minutes in which the sky was dyed in shades of neither day or night.

Those eyes that held the suns of a million dawns focus on you. Starlight from constellations that will sleep soon seem to frame them, those long lashes fluttering in tune with your heart.

“I know, my angel…” Your lover utters, as he delicately tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’d like to stay with you like this, for all eternity…” His stare of gentle embers takes you in.

His muse, his perfect love, his forever.

The samurai’s free hand reaches to cup your cheek, his touch, a dove’s first flight in its tenderness.

Beneath the darkening skies, you were the brightest star. Every lash, every pore and freckle, the everglow that fueled his verses.

“But we’ll always have the weekends,” He reassures, those fingers that penned the most romantic eulogies tracing your jawline, the column of your neck, your exposed collarbones.

Dilated pupils stare at his lips, images of kisses coated in ice cream and cocktails flashing through your dazed mind.

“And every summer after that.” The poet adds, noses mere millimeters away now, separated only by salt air and dying sunlight’s rust.

“Every summer.” You repeat.

Then, the magnetic force of both your desire-ridden lips reigns over, his kiss, an intoxicating collision.

Your hands lock behind Kazuha’s neck, pulling him closer. The droplets of sea water on him feel cool, flecks of stardust tattooing your skin in every place your bodies touch.

The wandering samurai’s lips are an expanding sunrise, and you, the tsunami that desperately reaches for his light-tinted heavens.

One of his hands sets on the soft sand, keeping him upright, while his scarred one tenderly cups your cheek. Your lean against him is soothing, healing, clear August skies, birdsong written in between retreating clouds.

Behind the undulating horizon, gold dyes silver.

Constellations begin to waltz far above, the lovers by the sea, their directing lyrics.

It’s a symphony about a season that will never die, its score inscribed in indelible blue ink in the heat of yours and Kazuha’s fervent kisses.

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gimme-noodles-please · 11 months ago

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If you're still taking requests for Lovebrush fics and hcs could you write about the first date which each of the LIs? It can be short and all the details are up to you!

First Date Headcannons

characters x gn! reader

—— characters; Aiyin/Ayn, Luchen/Alkaid, Luoxia/Lars, Silan/Clarence, Yexuan/Cael

——————————————

Ayn

he would definitely take you to cafe-hopping! we all know how much he loves sweets heh

at first when he asks you out, he asked where you would like to go. he would go with whatever you suggest!

however if you are unable to decide he would suggest to go cafe-hopping :3

being the gentlemen he is, he would pay for everything

he does not really initiate any physical contact, the most he would go is reach for your hand as you both walk down the pathway, only to retract his hand and stuff them in his pocket if you didn’t notice. (he likes to hold your hand 🥺)

“Hmm, the chocolate cake looks delicious. And so does the cheesecake. Oh? You want to try both? Sounds good to me”

Alkaid

he lets you make the decision! however if you can’t decide, he would take you to his favourite hill to stargaze and of course a picnic with food he made himself personally!

there are sandwiches, cupcakes and blended fruit juices, just for you! he’s got everything prepared for a perfect date

it is cute how he seems so contented talking about the constellations you both see while talking about the stories behind it

at the end of the day he would escort you back to your home, hesitantly leaving a gentle kiss on the top of your head as his soft voice bids you goodnight

“Whenever i look into your eyes, I see the whole universe of stars. It’s beautiful, just like you”

Lars

amusement park. he would immediately suggest to go to the amusement park. there isn’t one on the island? no worries, he got his yacht and helicopter at his beck and call. are you worried about the ticket price? don’t worry, he’s got everything covered, just relax and enjoy

he would take your hand in his with no hesitation as he leads you to one ride after the other, resembling an excited puppy going out to play

he likes to go on more thrilling rides but would go on whichever you would like to too! he would prefer to be with you at all times. if you are too scared to ride any thrilling rides, he would not force you, though that does not mean he won’t tease you a litte

he spoils you a lot. if he notices your eyes lingering a little too long on something, like example a huge cotton candy. he would buy one for you despite your protests

“Oh come on, is my little painter scared of a rollercoaster like this~? It’s okay, if you are scared, you can grab onto my arm, I will always be by your side.”

Clarence

he would love to go to the cat cafe! he loves cats and he doesn’t wish to go with something typical like the movies or a fancy restaurant. plus he doubts you would like to go fishing with him.

he is very gentle and respectful throughout the date. like offering his hand when you are walking down the stairs with no railing to hold on to

you might be surprised by how natural clarence is with cats. cats love him for some reason. he teaches you the basics of cat behaviour, how to pet a cat properly and most importantly, asking the cat for permission before patting it

overall it is the chill happi vibes hehe. (he was worried that the date would be too boring for you)

he would definitely buy something for you, like perhaps a matching set of merchandise from the cafe as memory of this day

“I had a great time today, any time spent with you is enjoyable. What about you?”

Cael

dude literally knows you so well considering he was with you throughout your teen years. at some point in time there is an instance when you mentioned to him about your ideal first date

he doesn’t tell you the location and just asked you to prepare, when you asked where you’d be going, he would mysteriously smile and shake his head, saying it is a surprise

you are taken by surprise just how well prepared the date was (he would literally do anything just to make you happy, no matter the cost or methods needed to achieve it. i mean, ‼️SPOILER ALERT‼️ he literally built a cinema before with futuristic technology to show a possible future you might have, there is nothing this man can’t do)

you could tell he was nervous, after all he has never been on a date with someone. the only experience he has is hearing stories from your mom when she was still alive and possibly fangirling about your father

aside from his well-concealed nervousness that only you were able to observe from his slight change in his normally serene expression, you would’ve thought that he had some sort of experience with this considering how flawless and smooth the entire date went.

“My greatest happiness is seeing you happy, seeing you smile makes all my efforts worth it.”

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loserboyfriendrjl · 3 months ago

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sirius' palm was warm against the back of james' neck, his long, pale fingers digging into the flesh of his thigh. their mouths moved together in tandem. sirius' tongue slid against the full of james' bottom lip, who deepened their kiss, his hand cupping sirius' jaw.

james tried not to think too much about that july night, when sirius stood in front of his door, shoulders straight and only a backpack on his back. james knew; he always did. he always knew that sirius would, one day, end up with him, and the clock had been ticking expectantly each sticky summer night when james laid awake in his bed and tried to shake the thought of sirius away from his head.

("¡'ve done it?" sirius smiled, sheepishly, rubbing his neck with the tips of his fingers (it was always james' sign that sirius was frustrated, nervous, that his feelings threatened to spill; for james, sirius was an open book, for him and him only.))

their time spent together after sirius never went back had been filled with nights in which they lied awake and talked about everything and nothing, with lazy mornings lounging in the garden and with theirs lips pressed together, tasting, daring, exploring.

james never said anything. never said anything about the knot growing in his stomach and about how he tingled inside whenever sirius' touch lingered for a moment too long. sometimes, he thought he made it up, and sirius' mouth was a mere fragment of his dizzying imagination; his mother had always told him he spent too much time in his head, zoning out when it was most important to stay guarded. sometimes, he thought it was all a feverish dream, the heat of the summer misting his thoughts together.

sirius looked at his from under hooded eyelids and long eyelashes when they parted. in his eyes, james saw moonlight; in the marks littered across his skin, james saw constellations. he was sure he would never see someone as roughly yet aristocratically beautiful as sirius.

"what's on your mind?" he asked, tilting his head, his palms digging into the mattress that tipped under their weights. even when he sat, slouched, sirius was slightly taller than him, and there was something playing in his eyes that james, in other instances, could have put his finger on, tangibly so.

"you," james wanted to breathe out. "you, always you. i'm drunk on you, sirius, and you're the only person i'll ever love like this. because there's no one as beautiful as you are, not in my eyes. because you're fucking perfect, and i want to trace your body with my palms, to feel you human and raw, to know all the layers of you and to see you come undone at the mere touch of my fingers. you, always you, sirius."

#prongsfoot self insulgent making out because #and james having his very confusing thoughts about his best friend #fellas is it gay to make out with your male friend when you're also male #fellas is it gay to stay up at night thinking about him #sirius black #james potter #prongsfoot #my writing

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bloodyinkandquill · 2 months ago

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Ghostwalker x Reader

did my best to be character accurate but since we don’t know much about the swords it might not be amazing but i tried!

- Since Ghostwalker cannot feel regular emotions him falling in love was a shock to everyone, the most surprised being himself, when he first fell for you he had absolutely no clue what he was feeling, even after you guys get together the feeling of being in love is still so strange to him

- All of the Swords have varying levels of knowledge about mortals and what they need, Ghostwalker had very little knowledge compared to his siblings who spent more time with mortals such as Venomshank and Firebrand as they both have children who have mortal needs

- Said obliviousness leads to multiple times he’s absolutely perplexed by something normal you do, for instance demons in the Inpherno do not need to eat or sleep but they can if they want so watching you sleep for the first time was very confusing to him, don’t even get started on when he learnt about baths, choosing to soak in water for relaxation and semi sanitation was entirely alien to him, he cleaned himself sure but baths were fascinating to him

- Since he is the god of death (my hc) he is far more used to the dead than the living, and with that he is a cautious about your health, you got sick for the first time and he panicked, ready to revive you and terrified, you had to explain to him what felt like 100 times that no you would not die by a cold, you were just out in the snow too long, you then also had to stop him from asking Icedagger about the affect his powers have on mortals

- Ghostwalker is more reserved with affection, physical touch is odd to him, that isn’t to say he’s against it, but he’s not that open with it, if you like it that’s fine but he doesn’t initiate it much himself, and as he doesn’t have a mouth he can’t exactly kiss you either… so if you wanna kiss him you’ll have to figure it out

- As he’s neutral with literally everyone, mortals, his siblings, whatever you don’t have many worries regarding his status as a deity, sure people may still be weird but it’s not like Illumina and Darkheart who are at each other’s throats constantly

- In terms of dates he’d probably take you to go stargazing, walks through beautiful landscapes, honestly more secluded and outdoor spaces, he’s not that fond of being around large groups of people and nature is calming to him

- He’s honestly surprisingly gentle, being careful and soft with you, any times he does hold you he’s very sweet and soothing, one touch he does like initiating is coming up behind you wrapping his arms around your body and resting his chin on your head, and seeing as he’s 7’ he’s very much so taller than you so it snot difficult for him, but if your a lot lot shorter it can be a struggle sometimes

- He only has one or two unique pet names for you, but he uses them a lot, they’d probably come from some date you two went on or a physical characteristic of yours, maybe your horn color reminds him of a certain flower, or on a date you said a certain constellation was your favorite, intimate things like that

tried my best, that’s all i could think of, if i do think of more i’ll come back and add it probably in the next 24 hours, thanks again for requesting!! also i think i’m coming down with something so that might mean plenty of time to work on any requests i get…

#phighting x reader #phighting!#phighting #phighting ghostwalker #ghostwalker phighting #ghostwalker x reader #ghostwalker x reader phighting #phighting ghostwalker x reader #x reader

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blubberquark · 10 months ago

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2023 Game Of The Year: Storyteller (plus DLC)

I played Storyteller after the DLC came out, and Storyteller (with the DLC) became my game of the year.

Unfortunately, I can't really explain why without spoiling some puzzles. I will not try not to spoil any solutions in the screenshots (except one), but I will have to spoil the game mechanics.

What is Storyteller

Storyteller is a game where you arrange comic book panels and characters to tell a story based on a prompt. It doesn't require any dexterity, only deduction. You drag and drop comic book panels into slots, drag and drop character into panels to arrange them, or drag populated panels and characters around.

The challenge is to understand how the characters and panels work, what the prompt wants you to do, and how to do that. Early on, the game is mostly about figuring out the rules governing the characters and panels. It slowly shifts towards more "thinky" problems, where the challenge lies not in understanding how the game works, or what the goal is, but how to fit the required story beats into a limited number of panels.

Depending on the outcome of a panel, you may see little icons, speech bubbles, or thought bubbles that describe whether an action failed or succeeded, and how the characters think or feel about that. Sometimes the outcome of a panel is communicated in a much more direct way, and acted out by the characters.

Screenshot from second chapter puzzle "A Heartbreak is Healed"

Screenshot from first chapter puzzle "Heartbreak with a Happy Ending": At this point you are still learning the game mechanics like placing panels and characters

Screenshot from "Everyone Rejects Edgar": More thinky puzzle than recreation of a storytelling cliché, and an opportunity to apply what you know. The characters except for Edgar are interchangeable. You can have them fall in love with any other, or reject Edgar in any order.

Screenshot from later puzzle "Everyone Sits on the Throne": A thinky puzzle in the same vein as "Everyone Rejects Edgar". This time, there are important differences between the initial states of characters. You cannot make them sit on the throne in any order.

The panels can be thought of as story beats, sometimes as scenes/places, as in "A and B meet in the kitchen", and sometimes as actions/verbs, as in "A and B kiss". They aren't verbs in the sense that you can just put Alice and Bob in the kissing panel and they always kiss. They only kiss if they love each other, or at least if they don't hate each other. All you can do with the characters as the player is to put them in situations. You can drag the "horse" character into the "watering hole" panel, but you can't make it drink. I mean, probably you could, you might, but would be the puzzle.

Screenshot from "Hatey Murders Father and Marries Mother": It's obviously an Oedipus reference. You see that Hatey doesn't want to murder his father or marry his mother in this constellation.

The game keeps track of the relationships between characters, beliefs of characters, and states of objects. That means (I made this example up in order to not spoil any puzzles) if Alice has been in the kitchen with the cookies, Alice believes there are cookies in the kitchen. If the Cookie Monster has been in the kitchen, there are no more cookies in the kitchen. Now Alice could tell Bob that there are cookies in the kitchen, and Bob could ge hungry and blame Alice for lying, or he could catch the Cookie Monster eating the last cookie. The possibilities for drama are there.

Characters have different initial states and motivations. For instance, the King and the Queen are initially married, and they both have the crown.

Screenshot from "Three Heads Roll": Only the Baron wants to kidnap the king.

If you're into that kind of thing, you can imagine Storyteller as a STRIPS-like planning system with a known or at least discoverable initial state, multiple goals (not just one goal state), panels as actions that take characters as parameters, and a lot of state that can be observed and deduced, but not directly manipulated.

If you're not, you can just play Storyteller as a game about telling stories based on a prompt.

Progression

After you start a new save file, the whole game is open to you. Puzzles or stories are grouped into chapters of four of five stories. Each chapter has a common theme, and a set of common characters and panels. Later chapters mix it up a bit, and introduce characters into different environments or combine characters from multiple stories or mythologies, whereas earlier chapters mostly introduce panels and characters so you can learn how they operate.

Like I said, the whole game is open to you from the start, so you are free to skip a puzzle if you are stuck, to revisit an older chapter, or to skip to the last chapter. It doesn't really matter, because you have to solve every puzzle in the game in order to get to the end.

The first chapter teaches the mechanics of dragging and dropping panels, dragging and dropping characters into panels, and dragging populated panels around to swap them. Then the next couple of chapters introduce different characters and settings. Usually the first story of a chapter only has a few new characters and panels with a rather obvious prompt, the second introduces more content and a slight variation, and the third and fourth have a slight twist.

The later chapters are more focused on actual puzzles.

Some puzzles have multiple solutions, and after solving it one way, you see two additional prompts. For example, the princess could kiss the frog and then the frog turns into a prince, or the princess could kiss the frog but the frog turns into another princess.

I skipped many of those variations on my first playthrough, and this way I blazed through about 40 puzzles without ever stopping and thinking or feeling overly challenged. I learned how most of the characters and panels work, and then I went back to solve all the variant prompts. Somebody I know played every level in order and solved the variant prompts right away. That makes for a more thinky experience earlier on. Either way works, and both are clearly intentionally permitted by the game design.

In the final chapters, Storyteller actually becomes thinky and difficult. This seems like a flaw in pacing, but it works out to the first 70% of the puzzles taking 30% of the time playing it, and the last 30% taking 70% of the time. Instead of treating Storyteller like a storytelling game, you must finally treat it like a puzzle game.

When you beat the base game, the DLC content is added. Levels in the previous chapters get an additional variant prompt, and a new character is introduced. This character acts completely different from all the previous characters, so you have to at first understand how it interacts with the panels from the base game. The variant prompts are harder than anything in the base game. For puzzle game aficionados, this is where it gets challenging for the first time. Here's a "metagaming" tip: None of the DLC variant prompts is solvable with the characters from the base game. Therefore your solution must incorporate the DLC, and it would be impossible to reproduce with base game content.

Screenshot from "Eve Dies Heartbroken Devil makes everyone miserable": You have to experiemnt to figure out how the devil interacts with the panels and characters.

Why It Works So Well

Storyteller is a bit on the easy side. So why does it work so well?

If you are an expert at puzzle games such as The Golem or Stephen's Sausage Roll, then maybe it won't work for you. But if you are looking for a puzzle game that is different, if you liked Splice or Cogs, then Storyteller could be the game for you. It's not a puzzle platformer, not a first person puzzle adventure like Obduction or Sensorium or Quern.

Storyteller is not a storytelling game in the vein of Facade, but it uses themes and literary allusion to keep you interested early on. The music sometimes feels more like a fun Easter egg, but never annoying.

Early prompts in the vein of "boy meets girl" soon turn into more complicated prompts, requiring some minimal lateral thinking to figure out what you need to do. Some of the prompts are literary or mythological allusions and references. That keeps levels interesting and varied even when the actual puzzle part is simple.

Screenshot from "Butler Gets Fired" and "Friedrich Takes Revenge": The puzzle part is quite easy, and there is little lateral thinking involved. The fun is mostly in re-enacting pop culture tropes.

Screenshot from the level selection: Every puzzle in every chapter is open from the start, but it's probably best to do them in order.

Many bad puzzle games get this wrong. You can never really solve a puzzle, because there is only one thing to do. You pick up a key, you open a lock, you see a button, you press it to open a door, you just do the next thing you can do over and over. Instead of puzzling, you just push every button and see what changes to know where to go next. It's fine if the puzzle mechanics are just an excuse to get the player to traverse a temple/dungeon back and forth, if you see the lock and the key and the puzzle mechanics are just there for flavour and motivation. It's no okay if your game is not an action adventure or a puzzle platformer, but an actual puzzle game.

Monument Valley is such a game that doesn't have any actual puzzles in it, you just walk from one place to the next. The game is carried by the interesting visuals and the novelty of the perspective mechanic. (If you are looking for something like Monument Valley but challenging, I could perhaps recommend Naya's Quest or Selene's Labyrinth.)

Early on, Storyteller has this flow of simple and easy puzzles (like Monument Valley), one solved after the other, and it gradually gets more difficult. The references to books and storytelling clichés aren't particularly deep or laugh-out-loud funny, but they make for the occasional chuckle. Sometimes part of the solution process is to realise that "boy meets girl" was last time, and this time you have to use "girl meets girl" to make the story fit the prompt with the characters you have at your disposal.

The variant prompts manage to side-step a problem I that stood out to me on my playthrough of Baba is You, and a problem I encountered designing my own puzzles. Sometimes there are two levels in a row, where one level has an "unintended" solution, and the next has the "intended" solution removed, so you have to find the second solution for the first level. If you manage to find the "unintended" solution the first time, the next level will be very confusing. Just this solution again? Wait, what was the other solution? Did the last level try to teach me something I missed? Should I go back again to find the other solution?

It was confusing to me anyway, a couple of times when I played Baba is You. The same idea is implemented in Storyteller in a much better way. Instead of having a modified copy of the same level right afterwards, Storyteller categorises solutions into "basic solution", "variant A" and "variant B". Even if you manage to find one variant with your first solution attempt, you immediately see both variant prompts, and there is always one more variant to try next. You never have to construct the same solution twice in a row. Sadly this elegant system cannot be applied to Baba is You.

Screenshot from "Tiny gets a kiss": Sorry for spoiling the solution. Even if you manage to have the prince save Tiny the first time around, you would still have to find a solution where Snowy is ungrateful, and Tiny gets a kiss.

Pre-History

I can't really talk about Storyteller without explaining why I was drawn to this game in the first place. I first heard about it in 2008, when it won the IGF. Back then it was more of a story sandbox in the vein of "Tale-Spin". That's the old story generation AI that produced the sentence "gravity drowned", if that means anything to you.

Screenshot: Storyteller prototype with old pixel art

About a hundred flash portals mirrored the initial Storyteller Flash prototype that won the IGF. The original is still here on Kongregate.

Back then, I wondered how a sand box such as storyteller could be turned into an actual game. It was a prototype and some mechanics, but not really a game. It looks like the developer wondered, too.

In the mean time, FRAMED had came out. Now FRAMED looks clearly inspired by Storyteller, because it also has a mechanic where you rearrange panels, but it's nothing like it. FRAMED is more like the Limbo to Storyteller's Braid. Ironically, FRAMED is "a game that tells you a story". Storyteller is an actual puzzle game.

It has been in development longer than Duke Nukem Forever, but even after all these years, Storyteller doesn't feel dated or superfluous. They finally found a winning formula.

Storyteller was developed by Daniel Benmergui and published by Annapurna Interactive. Get it on Steam here, or if you have a Netflix subscription and an iOS or Android device, the price of the mobile app is included in your monthly Netflix fee. Storyteller is also available for the Nintendo Switch. I would recommend playing it on a PC or tablet.

#storyteller #game of the year #puzzle games #game review

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starlitheaven · 2 years ago

Text

— LIKE A WHOLE CONSTELLATION.

nanami kento x f!reader

summary. you never imagined your hunch about your boyfriend’s taste would lead to this.

tags. established relationship, sock/stocking fetish, foot fetish, foot job, nanami is a freak, dom/sub undertones, readers feet are regarded as small but no size specified nanami just has a slight size kink, daddy kink, come eating (sort of)

note. for @thetempleofnyx & @dearestgojo 🫶🏽 this is so cursed i'm so sorry fhfisf. title from nasty by ariana grande.

wc. 2.5k+

It had started innocently enough, in your opinion. Kento is an attentive boyfriend, the most you’ve ever had, so you didn’t think much of it at first. He liked spoiling you—his love—in any way that he could.

When he began paying for your nail appointments, you raised yourself on freshly painted toes to pepper sweet kisses over his face. It made you giddy to show off your pretty nails for him, especially when it was a color that he had chosen for you. He preferred soft pastels on you, telling you how lovely the delicate shade looked against your skin. That time, he had knelt down as you sat on the edge of the bed to inspect the fresh set closely, gently wrapping a big hand over your ankle.

Kento placed a chaste kiss over the top of your foot. Your toes had curled instinctively, unknowingly causing arousal to pool in his gut. Cute. Still, he did nothing more than rubbing a thumb over the ghost of his kiss. “This is perhaps my favorite color for you. I should get you some new heels to go with it, hm?”

Absolutely thrilled at the promise of new shoes—meaning a shopping spree all paid for by your hard working boyfriend—you thought nothing of it. Kento was a gentleman through and through, down to his very core. Him getting down to remove and place all of the shoes you tried on was just another act of chivalry from him.

Back then, you hadn’t thought about how thrilling it was for him to see a sweet color on your pretty toes that he chose and paid for while wearing heels also paid for by him.

He had been more aggressive that night, hands pressing against your soft flesh as he rammed his hips deep inside of your cunt. Back arched and ankles on his shoulders, you were too blissed out to notice him turning and groaning into your foot, completely intoxicated.

Next was the massages. Even then, you hadn’t blinked twice when Kento insisted on giving you a foot massage when you emerged from your night shower. Walking the streets of Tokyo in your work heels left your feet aching and sore, so you thought your boyfriend was an angel to relieve some of the pain. Watching your favorite dramas and sipping on merlot, you weren’t aware of the soft moans that escaped your lips when Kento’s thumbs kneaded on particular parts of your foot. It just felt good to have that tension eased and mind a little fuzzy with wine.

Fuzzy like the lavender socks you wear at home. It felt wrong to find your cute socks so arousing, but Kento couldn’t help it. They were all endearing in various colors and fun prints. Then there were the stockings and thigh high socks that accentuated the pretty arch of your foot, making him imagine it curled over his—

Kento cleared his throat, muscled thighs spreading apart as blood began to rush down. “Feels better, love?”

“Hm?” you peeled your eyes away from the lover interest on tv making a fool of himself. It’s then that you realized your feet no longer ached from the stress of the day. Unknowingly pushing your boyfriend's limits, you wiggled your toes cutely. “Yeah, so much better, actually! Thanks, sweetheart. Want another glass?”

Feeling hot in his own skin, Kento tersely nodded. His jaw clenched until he willed his arousal to dissipate, which was difficult when your socked feet were still perched over his thighs.

Much like now. Those instances were the first of many, and it took you some time to notice a pattern and the changes in your boyfriend. Once you took notice, you began to test out your hunch that had felt far-fetched at first, but soon became apparent.

Kento had a foot fetish. Your boyfriend had a foot fetish and became aroused by your feet. Not only your feet, but your socks, stockings, and tights as well. Even the dainty toe rings you experimentally bought had him pressing you up against the elevator, too impatient to wait until you were home.

It felt perverted and depraved—words you wouldn’t use to describe Nanami Kento. But when you thought about it, it was fitting considering how lewd he can be beneath his composed exterior. It’s what you loved about him, how well he hid his freakish thoughts. Only you were privy to his desires and you’d do almost anything to indulge him.

Determined as ever, you hadn’t expected it all to play out the way it did. It wasn’t perfectly planned out on a romantic night with you dressed in brand new lingerie and stockings. You weren’t temptingly laid out for Kento on your king sized bed with sweet scented candles lit around the room.

Through the balcony door, the living room was bathed in an orange glow as the sun began to dip below the horizon. It was cracked open slightly, and the fresh autumn breeze had you rubbing your legs together. You two were settled on the couch in a way you often did, with Kento on one end and you on the other. He was sitting with his back against the couch facing forward, book in hand, while you sat horizontal, knees bent and feet over his lap.

You were scrolling on your phone, stretching your legs every now and then, pushing Kento further and further until he was reading the same sentence over and over. Giving up, he glanced down with a clenched jaw at your legs. The weather was finally transitioning away from the heat of the summer into cool autumn, so you were wearing a short cream colored thick sweater dress paired with matching socks that ended inches above your knees.

The hem of your dress had risen up with your movements, exposing more of your plush thighs that Kento wanted to bite into. But his eyes were fixed on your feet, the thin fabric of your socks accentuating the pretty shape. Preoccupied with whatever you were watching, you continued to rub against his thighs, inching higher and closer to his hardening cock. This time, Kento made no attempt to stop himself from fully hardening.

He’d had enough. Intoxicated by your small feet right over his lap, covered in long soft cream socks, he wanted nothing more but to give in to his pleasure.

Setting his book aside, he let out a low sigh as your heel began brushing over his cock. He was fully hard now and you immediately halted your movements when you felt the familiar thickness of his cock. Your mouth opened in a gasp.

“What—”

“Don’t stop.”

His deep voice cut through the quiet twilight air. The only other sound was your phone plopping against the couch, having slipped from your fingers in your shock.

Still, you stared in disbelief at what was right in front of you. The bulge of Kento’s meaty cock was right beneath the soles of your feet, hot and heavy. Had he really gotten fully hard just from this? The thought was surprisingly thrilling.

“K-Kento? Are you sure that—”

Kento clicked his tongue in disapproval. “My love, don’t make me repeat myself.”

The authority in his voice was sharp and deep; it left no room for disobedience. It was an order despite the fact that his voice never raised from its usual low resonance. Kento never had to yell or curse to get his point across—it’s one of the things you found most attractive about him. It made you docile and eager to please.

Settling into that comforting space where you placed all of your trust in the man across from you, you nodded. Biting your lip, you resumed your movements, pressing your soft soles over your boyfriend's bulge. The fabric was thin enough that you felt how big he was so acutely, heavy cock hidden beneath the wool blend of his slacks and the soft cotton of his boxer briefs. You curled your toes slightly, thinking maybe you’d have a better grip, when Kento suddenly groans roughly.

He’s unbuttoning the first two buttons of his linen shirt with one hand while the other rests possessive over your thigh. Raising his hips ever so slightly, he keeps his gaze fixed on your pretty feet massaging his cock.

“Keep going.” he says, licking his lips as he watches intently. Those chocolate brown eyes you love have grown hazy with need. You nod dumbly, even though he’s not looking at you and put more force down on your feet. Spreading your toe, you make your way down to where the head of his cock has begun leaking through the fabric. “That’s it, love. Just like that, keep going.”

The perversion of it all makes your cunt pulse with need. By the time that Kento orders you to stop, you’re sure that your underwear is soaked with your juices. You pull back slightly, unsure of what happens next, but then your boyfriend begins undoing his belt. It’s slow and methodical as usual despite the fact that his chest is heaving slightly, the handmade leather sliding through the loops of his slacks—and you know exactly how that belt feels slapping lightly against the bare skin of your ass and back of your thighs—before being placed on the side table beside him.

You’re becoming needier by the second, reaching down to play with your pussy as he’s unbuttoning his pants. Watching his large hands pull down the zipper, you run your index finger along your underwear. You’re much wetter than expected, the fabric sliding easily over your drooling cunt, making you whimper.

“Let me see it, angel.”

With a breathy gasp, you spread your knees apart for Kento, giving him a full view of you sliding your panties to the side and revealing that sweet cunt to him. His lips quirk up slightly, unable to resist the temptation of reaching over to rub a thumb along your folds, gathering your juices before bringing the digit to his tongue.

Humming low in his throat, Kento leans over to give you a quick kiss. “You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this.”

Your lip juts out slightly in a pout at the confession. “You should’ve told me, Kento. Why didn’t you?”

He sighs, pulling back to his previous position. “I wasn’t sure how to approach it. It’s—deviant. I know that, and didn’t wish to burden you in case it made you uncomfortable.”

“But we just…this just happened.”

“I know,” he closes his eyes, as if he’s done something unforgivable. Even so, he makes no move to stop what’s happening. “I lost judgment, I couldn’t control myself. You’re…very irresistible.”

Playfully toeing along along his thighs, right by his leaking cock but never touching it,

the smile you grace him with is dangerous. “So, you liked the toe rings then? Ruby is your birthstone, y’know. I got that one just for you, daddy.”

You see the moment it dawns on him that you knew on some level. His pupils have dilated, merely a brown ring. That’s when you use your toe to tug on the elastic of his boxer briefs.

“I’ll make you feel so good,” you murmur, coyly peering up at him through your lashes. “Let me show you, please?”

Things were heading in this direction, but you know how Kento goes crazy for obedience and a sweet plea from you. Breathing out through his nose and jaw clenched tight, Kento slides his slacks and briefs down to mid thigh.

His dick stands upright, almost slapping against the trail of trimmed blonde hairs below his navel. It’s flushed a dark pink, the fat tip leaking precome down the long shaft. Kento takes care of himself very well, so he not only looks good but also tastes good—better than any other man you’ve been with.

As impatient as you are to touch him, you wait for Kento’s cue to do so; a mere flick of his wrist. He doesn’t verbally reward you when you listen, but the grunt he lets out at your feet touching his bare cock is reward enough. The feel of the ridges and veins along his dick feel strange beneath the soles of your feet and the thought alone makes you feel hot.

It feels brand new to explore his cock this way, completely different than mouthing at it, grasping it in your fist, or rubbing your cunt along it. You press your heel against his big heavy balls, rubbing hard the way he likes before sliding your foot down to press your toes against them. Kento’s hips slightly cant up against your foot, desperate in a way you rarely see from him.

His tip is drooling now, catching against the cotton of your socks. Kento sighs when your toes wiggle at the sudden dampness, transfixed as you search for a rhythm. It’s better than he ever imagined, all those times he got himself off in the shower at the thought of your feet. Your cute toes, the pretty arch, and those soft heels he wanted to bite into.

It’s disgusting and he fucking loves it.

“Get me off with them,” he pants out, voice raspy and hoarse and driven wild with lust. “Do it until I come all over those pretty feet, princess.”

And then you trap his cock with both of your feet, doing your best to keep a firm grip on him. His skin is hot and wet with his own arousal, and you fully coat him in it. The contrast between your soft white socks and his hard flushed cock stirs something inside of you.

“Oh, thats…” you trail off in a whisper, watching as you begin to jerk his dick with your feet in a steady rhythm. It’s so fucking lewd to see your cute socks being used like this, becoming stained with Kento’s precome. “Daddy, this looks so hot. Mmm, ‘m really wet.”

The little gasps and mewls that escape your puffy lips make Kento's mouth dry. He begins fucking his hips up to match your movements, fucking those beautiful feet of yours and ruining you forever.

Kento curses, head tipping back against the back of the couch. Every little curl and twitch of your toes, every feel of your curved arch has him dizzy with need. He feels his blood hot beneath his skin, abdomen tightening with an overwhelming lust.

"Fuck," he growls, fucking you sloppy and he almost can't recognize himself. It's exhilarating. "Faster, baby, shit—faster. I'm almost there, just a bit—nngh—a bit more."

His words come out in heavy pants, but you rapidly nod along like his perfect girl. You squeeze and jerk his dick and he just watches himself fuck into your feet, cursing and grunting until the tension that's built inside of him completely snaps, and he comes with a long moan. His come spurts up, more than usual and landing on your toes and top of your feet.

Kento thinks he blacks out for a few seconds.

“Look,” you say suddenly with a breathy giggle. When Kento opens his eyes that he doesn’t remember closing, he’s faced with the pretty sole. Not only is it small and cute, but the light fabric is soaked with his spunk. “I’m all messy now, but I don’t think you’d mind this mess, hm?”

He can see a bit of your skin now, and suddenly he has the urge to suck his juices off from your sock. So he does. Lightly grasping your ankle, Kento ignores your little yelp as he licks from the bottom of your foot to your toes. Your sock is soft against his tongue, pressed so close to your skin, and then Kento tastes his own come. Moaning, he takes your toes into your mouth, sucking the small digits and pressing the tip of his tongue in between.

#WHEN I TELL YOU I ACTUALLY DON'T LIKE FEET #THIS IS SO.....#the romantic header is so funny tho 🤭#BUT IT'S FITTING FOR NANAMI DON'T LIE #he just looks like a weird freak #underneath all that #nanami x reader #nanami x oc #nanami x y/n #nanami x yn #jjk smut #jjk x reader #nanami smut #nanami kento x y/n #nanami kento x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento

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rabbitenn · 11 months ago

Note

Hi!

Could I request headcanons of TRIGGER (separately) with a baker s/o who loves making sweets and treats for them, especially when they do a good job?

SWEET DREAMS ARE MADE OF THIS.

Your treats are only surpassed in sweetness by your tender kisses.

ft. Yaotome Gaku, Kujo Tenn, Tsunashi Ryunosuke x gn! reader.

cw/genre: fluff.

This is such a cute request, nonnie ! Thank you so much <3 I’m sorry it took so long… I hope you still like it !

♡ YAOTOME GAKU

— Gaku is so in love. Not just because of the way you go out of your way to make something nice for him, but because you are just so… precious.

— Words of kindness and praise leave your lips with the same ease as powdered sugar coats his every time he eats the pastries you make.

— Steely eyes scan the kitchen, afternoon sunlight filtering in, seemingly threaded around you as you move about to prepare another batch of the sweet addiction.

— However, to your lover, watching you is sweet enough; akin to the first drops of nectar, leaving him longing for more, the rose-colored instants in which you lay between his arms.

— With a smile, you turn around, stealing a fleeting kiss from him, the taste of glazed sugar present from the treat you had a taste of (Gaku insisted, you had prepared them, after all).

— However, he wants more.

— So, putting down the confectionery he was eating, your boyfriend catches your wrist, pulling you over his lap.

— In sweet scented silence, a few seconds pass.

— Then, TRIGGER’s leader is leaning in. And powdered sugar merges with your lipgloss when he kisses you, an amalgamation of tenderness and hunger.

— And, well, who are you to resist?

— You kiss him back with just as much fervor, thinking you’ll bake extra treats for him if it means kisses this sweet.

— There are other times, you’re working up until the late hours of the evening, when your boyfriend shows up. The bell over the shop’s door announces his arrival just as the sun gives you two some privacy, as it dips behind the faraway skyline.

— In these instances, even if not many words are exchanged between you two, you feel at peace.

— The scent of baked goods lingers, as Gaku helps you arrange some boxes and materials you’ll need for tomorrow’s shift.

— And as always, you’ve saved your best piece for him.

— Today, the silver of the constellations peeking through the window mirrors in the decoration of the cupcake you’ve reserved for him.

— The glazing is in his image color, a moon motif decorating the sweet in swirling patterns.

— And, to Gaku, the sight of you holding the pretty treat for him to take is brighter than the stars outside he doesn’t bother looking at.

— What would be the use, when his dream come true is right in front of him, offering him minutes of borrowed dusk, coated in sugar?

♡ KUJO TENN

— Tenn gets that soft look in his eyes every time his shared apartment fills with the scent of just baked cookies.

— As much as he claims to work hard for the sake of his fans’ smiles, going back home to you is what really puts a smile on his angelic features, the warmth of sugary air wrapping around him as his childhood blankets did.

— He lets out a soft chuckle, as he hears you humming one of his group’s songs when he enters the kitchen.

— You’re so focused on preparing the ingredients you’ll be needing, you haven’t yet noticed your boyfriend’s presence.

— Only when familiar arms wrap around your middle, and the softness of his snowy hair brushes against your cheek, do you realize an angel has arrived at your doorstep.

— Your lover’s long lashes flutter closed, akin to the gentle caress of angel wings, as he says:

“Made some for me, my love?”

— A trail of kisses over the column of your neck is left in his wake, until his lips reach the shell of your ear, a whisper of “missed you” making your heart skip a beat.

— Tenn always loved watching from behind as you baked, even when you were still kids and you were just learning.

— You remember it as if it all happened yesterday, how he’d stop by your family’s bakery every day after school, those huge rose colored eyes of his curiously looking over your shoulder as you attempted to make donuts for the first time.

— The shape was a little crooked, but to nine year old Tenn, they looked a little like hearts.

— Like the ones in his eyes when he looks at you.

— “Of course I made some for you.” You tell him, turning around, as you feed him a pink cookie with strawberry topping. “Say aaah-“ You tease him, putting the sweet treat near his lips.

— However, charm and flustering you are your boyfriend’s specialty.

— So, clasping your hand in his, he takes the cookie from you with his teeth.

— “Sweet like you, my love.” Tenn whispers, leaving a fleeting kiss on your lips, before walking away to get changed, while you stand there, face burning, as the cookies in the oven almost do.

— On other occasions, when TRIGGER has live performances, you’re always there with Tenn in the green room, and naturally, you’ve made sure to prepare a special prize for him after the concert.

— A box wrapped in a pretty package waits for him backstage, topped with your loving hugs and sweet smiles.

— Soft kisses are exchanged between you and the angelic idol, as Ryu and Gaku give you some privacy, smiling knowingly.

— Both because they’re sure to tease their younger friend afterwards, and because you always made sure to bring sweets for them, after all.

♡ TSUNASHI RYUNOSUKE

— Ryu wants to bake with you every time he sees you working on a new or old recipe.

— He loves cooking! And would love to learn how to bake too, especially if it's with you teaching him.

— He flusters when you take his hands to guide him, the pretty pink of the strawberries prepared to decorate the small cakes tinting his cheeks.

— TRIGGER’s eldest can feel his heart racing, face flaring up in the same warmth of the naturally lit kitchen.

— You let out a soft laugh at his shy expressions, the sunlight streaming in, illuminating his eyes, akin to mirrors into the afternoon’s molten rays.

— Your lover especially enjoys moments like this in the quiet of your bakery, before opening hours.

— The cozy atmosphere inside the shop contrasts with the freeze of first dawn, the coppery accents and wooden decorations making for a comforting ambiance.

— That, paired with the lingering sugar in the air, is enough to make one believe they’ve stepped into a fairytale, sunrise capturing the small dust particles in midair.

— And to Ryu, that is exactly where he is; amidst a silent paradise, where your light and song are the foundations of his world.

— There is an inherent tenderness in these transient moments you spend together before the morning fully settles.

— You reach a hand towards your boyfriend’s sculpted jawline, brushing away some remnants of flour.

— He smiles, noses brushing together, as you lean in for a sweet kiss.

— Waking up early, just for these stolen dream-like states was so worth it.

— Although Ryu knows Tenn is going to scold him if he underperforms…

— And, even though the latter means well, you know of his… angry cat tendencies, so you always ensure Ryu has something sweet and energizing to eat on his way to work.

— He adores it, every single time.

— It is you and your pastries that always seem to come to his aid in trying times, after all.

— Like that time he had to perform alone, only blue lights coloring a stage he carried on his shoulders for his friends.

— Guilt hung over Ryu in ashen clouds, blaming himself for the downfall of his group.

— However, in that murky night, a sliver of moon seemed to smile at him from behind the clouds, in the form of your outstretched hand, that offered him a box of homemade cookies.

— Gazing up at the night sky from his balcony, the saccharine taste of the biscuits assuages his anguish, if only a little.

— When the moonlight illuminates the treats, shades of blue, pink and silver shine in the night.

— A sign for better days and immense success to come.

— Of course, with you by his side.

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cloud-somersault · 4 months ago

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Constellations shadowpeach ask:

What would Macaque do if he woke up and found Wukong in a manic state after a nightmare? How should he comfort him?

Hm! This is a bit of a spoiler, but what the hell.

If Wukong and Macaque were in close enough proximity to each other, Wukong wouldn't have nightmares at all. Macaque is able to soothe the shadows of the mind and heart, and this can be utilized to quell fear and dispel nightmares. Macaque would simply ease Wukong's heart and mind before slumber to prevent nightmares from happening.

Like, for instance, if they were forced together again due to unknown circumstances (😉), Macaque would just take it upon himself to make sure Wukong slept soundly.

But! For the sake of this ask, let's do away with that and ask: If Macaque didn't have that power, what would he do? And also, if they were on better terms and not fighting as they are...currently.

Well, he'd first ask if Wukong was okay with being touched, and if so (Wukong's always ok with Macaque touching him) then he'd hold Wukong in his arms and help him calm down with soothing touches and soft words. 😌 Doing all of the affectionate touches Wukong likes, like having his head and back scratched, maybe some gentle kisses ... Macaque would definitely purr because he knows Wukong likes that sound and it's pleasing to him.

And he'd ask Wukong to talk about the nightmare. Whether Wukong takes him up on that is another matter entirely 😂

#ask #anon #ask game #constellations fic

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gildengirl · 10 months ago

Text

Abby and Townsend Headcanons

Things that Edward Townsend loves about Abigail Cameron:

Her eyes. Those gorgeous green eyes. They're a mix of hazel tones and emerald hues with a brightness to them that goes beyond the colour. Townsend doesn't stand a chance against them.

Abby has this walk. He can't tell if it stems from her legs or her hips, or what it really is about her movements that are so mesmerizing. All he knows is that his heartbeat still jumps at the sight of Abigail Cameron walking towards him.

Her hair. It's true that Abigail Cameron could be the star of a shampoo commercial, but it isn't so much the look of it as it is the feel of it. The most at peace Townsend's ever felt is falling asleep with her head on his chest and his fingers in her hair, while he wonders how it is that the strongest and bravest woman he's ever known can still be so soft and gentle—and how on earth is he the one who gets to hold her?

Her smile. Her laugh. Her generally sunny disposition. He's seen it win over assets, diffuse the tensest of situations, and coax out the kind of information that people would usually take to the grave before giving up. As much as it's part of her spycraft—her charisma, her charm, and everything that makes her magnetic and unforgettable and Abigail Cameron—he knows that it's just as much a part of her. He doesn't ever want to think about what his life would be like without her constant bursts of sunlight.

Her scars. As much as he hates to think about how she got them and who put them there, each one is a testament to perhaps the truest fact about Abigail Cameron: she isn't one to sit back and watch the people she cares about get hurt. Once he would have seen them as the markings of her rather reckless character, but he's come to understand and admire the constellation that she's acquired over the course of her career. He always makes sure to kiss every single one.

Her heart. It's the compulsive catalyst that sends her jumping in front of bullets. It's the reason behind every scar she's ever collected. It's what keeps her fighting for whoever is lucky enough to be loved by her, and from it blooms a kind of loyalty that he'd never want to be on the other side of. And really, it's her heart that made him fall in love with her. He'll love it as long as his own is beating.

Things that Abigail Cameron loves about Edward Townsend:

His eyes. They're a piercing icy blue that makes Abby melt every time. With the help of his height, Abby could spot them across a dark, crowded room in an instance.

His voice, and more specifically, his accent. It has a certain effect on her and that's all I'm going to say about that...

Townsend is such a nerd. He always seems to know the most obscure historical facts about England, he's read The Lord of the Rings more than ten times (at this point, Abby highly suspects the man knows Elvish), and his favourite book is The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, of which he has multiple editions. "Seriously, you think I have too many pairs of shoes, but you have eight—nine copies of Sherlock Holmes?" "You do have too many pairs of shoes." "NINE COPIES?!?" "What's your point, Abigail?" "It's the same book!" As much as she teases him about it, there's just something about his intellect and academic quirks that gets to her.

Townsend has this soft, tempered smile that almost entirely belongs to Abby, and she totally knows it. Over the years, Abby sees it slip onto Townsend's face for Zach, for Cammie, for their own kids, and all of Abby's family that Townsend now considers his own. It makes her love it even more.

His arms. They're where she finds peace, where she calls home. She's never been a woman that needs saving, but the safest she ever feels is when his arms are around her, holding her tight. Somehow everything always becomes quiet and slow, and she feels she finally knows what it is to be loved.

Townsend is stoic. He's the strong and silent type to a T. And while Abby enjoys the thrill that comes from getting a rise out of him, there's nothing else that grounds her more—that comforts her more than his quiet and confident nature. He's the calm, still, blue water to her wild and raging storm. She's pretty sure she'd be lost at sea without him.

#Abby x Townsend headcanons #as promised #Gallagher Girls #Gallagher Girls Series #Abigail Cameron #Edward Townsend #Tabby #also thank you to anyone who has ever written anything about these two #specifically averagejoesolomon #your writing has inspired many headcanons

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isfjmel-phleg · 10 months ago

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Constellation of Six [Revised]

The December Josiah turned seven, his brother Mikaiah was born, his mother died, and a new companion named Tamett came to live in the royal household. But let’s flash back to late summer before all that, when the family dynamic was rather different, when six-and-a-half-year-old Josiah had other concerns on his mind…

The intended point of this story was to offer insight into why Josiah is the way he is. This isn't his complete origin story, but a glimpse into what he has since lost. We see his relationship with his family (especially with his beloved mother), how Nyella and Odren parented him, the beginnings of traits that would become more ingrained as he gets older, the source of habits of behavior and thought still present later. The relationships among the rest of the family are also important and should explain the dynamics we see in Books 2 and 3.

I've made some modifications from the previous version. These include:

using "Josiah" instead of "Josia" for clarity and consistency (I didn't want to use Liennese spellings for every name--Ayra would be spelled "Era," for instance)

adjustments to wording

expanded passages of dialogue

clearer indications that Nyella is already pregnant with Mikaiah

additional passages of Josiah's inner monologue

So here's the revision! How does (or doesn't) it work for you? How can I make it better?

Josiah hazarded one foot out of bed, certain the very furniture could hear the floor as it creaked beneath him. By daylight, the chairs, cupboards, and tables of his nursery were a solid, comforting presence, but now, utter darkness had transformed them into vague shapes impossible to rely on. Josiah hated nighttime. Nothing stayed the same. Never had he been more betrayed by his world than tonight.

Which was why he needed to be his very bravest and venture out into the corridor. He wiped his face with his sleeve, set his jaw, and stumbled across the room, trying his best to tiptoe. The crunch of the carpet with each step made him shudder. At last he found the doorknob—or rather, it found his face—and slipped out.

He had never been in the corridor by himself in the dark before, and he expected further unknown terrors. But a few dimmed lights shone high on the walls, reminding him why he needed to continue. If anyone caught him, he might get sent back to bed—and he couldn’t sleep in that nursery without a light, he just couldn’t!

So he ran—ran as he never had before, as if he had never been forbidden to run indoors, as if all the creatures of the night were at his back. Perhaps they were. He dared not look over his shoulder.

Nor did he slow down once he reached the stairs. He remembered to safely hold the rail, but he went bumping dangerously down each step until he burst out downstairs.

He didn’t need to count the doors. Even in his sleep his feet would have remembered the exact one he needed. It was open a crack, as if he were expected, and he let himself in. The empty room at first sent the beginnings of a sob through him, until he saw the open door to the balcony.

There sat Mama, her eye to one of her long telescopes in its three-legged stand and her hand rapidly writing or sketching something. Josiah flung himself at her, buried his face in the soft white ruffles of her loose gown, and broke down immediately.

At once, her arms were around him. “Yozi? What’s wrong? What are you doing up?”

“I couldn’t sleep,” he choked out. “My nightlight isn’t lighted.”

“Did it go out?”

“Ayra didn’t light it!” he announced with smug dissatisfaction. “She left me alone in the dark.”

“And where is she now?”

“I don’t know. She and Ateva wouldn’t let me go with them.”

“So you came here all by yourself to find me? That’s my brave boy.” She kissed his forehead. One last sob shuddered out. “Oh, no need for that. You’re here now. I think you’ll live, don’t you?”

He sniffed and nodded solemnly.

“I’ll speak to Ayra later,” she added in a very different voice. “But there’s no point in being awake and not enjoying it. Come and look with me. Let’s see some stars. Up with you. I think you can still fit.”

Josiah nestled unsteadily onto her knees. There had been less and less room for him lately in her lap, and it wasn’t the most comfortable seat, but he had no intention of budging. The dark couldn’t get him when she was there.

“See,” said Mama, “the dark’s really nothing to be afraid of. Not when there’s a sky full of stars. You’re never alone beneath them. They make the night beautiful.”

He had never thought of it that way before, but she was right. The summer evening warmed him through till he couldn’t tremble if he had wanted to, and the friendly lights in the sky warded off the darkness. A final trickle—the last trace of his cry—dripped from his nose. He swept it away with the back of his hand.

“Now,” said Mama, “what would you like to look at first?”

“I want to see the brothers!” he said.

“Who? Oh, the twins! I don’t think they’re out this time of year. But there are other constellations out. Do you want to see a dragon instead?”

“Dragons aren’t real.”

“No, but this is one from a story. He’s right next to a warrior who’s going to fight him.”

That sounded like a very silly story. Josiah knew all about real battles from the books in Papa’s library, and they were nothing like that. “I want to see what you’re looking at.”

She put the telescope to his eye, and he squinted at the array of twinkling lights. They seemed to be sprinkled through the sky at random. Important stars that people gazed at made pictures. He tried to imagine the lines that might connect these stars into something sensible, but all he could see was clustered meaningless dots, like an ink splatter that earned one a scolding.

“I can’t see it! There’s nothing there!” he cried. “I’m looking at the wrong ones.”

“Do you see the stars? Then you’re in the right place. That’s exactly what I’m looking at. These don’t form any particular constellation. But they’re very bright, so I’m thinking about exactly what kinds of stars they are.”

And she told him about how not all stars were the same, how they came in many colors, how some were hotter and some colder and some farther away, and how there were ladies (“and some gentlemen too,” she added) at the university right now who were thinking up new ways to put the different stars in order.

“Like your books, Yozi. You like to line them up a certain way—by title, right? But someone else, like Ateva, might arrange books by color, or size.”

“The wrong way,” he said.

“Not wrong, but different. All the astronomers have different ideas about types of stars, so they talk about it and try to figure out the best way to do it.”

“Who’s winning?”

Mama laughed. “Everyone. They’ll probably use a little bit of all sorts of ideas.”

“I want to be the one to find the right way.”

“And perhaps you will someday. They can call it...the Yozi system.”

He glared at her reproachfully. “No, it’s the Prince Josiah system. Because it’s important.”

“Oh, of course, pardon me.”

“But,” he conceded, “the Prince Josiah and Mama system would be all right too.”

“After me? I’m honored.”

He returned to the eyepiece. “There are...six stars,” he announced, holding up fingers to reinforce the point. He might as well embark on his grand career at once, for Papa always said that one couldn’t begin achieving excellence too soon.

“There are. And do you want to make up a constellation out of them?”

“Can we?”

“Of course! That’s how all constellations start.”

“But you can’t make them up. They come with the sky.”

“Perhaps this one hasn’t been discovered yet. And we’ll be the very first ones.” As he bounced with excitement, she shifted him forward a little, away from her front. “What are you going to call it?”

“Six People.”

“That sounds very...factual.”

“The dots are their heads. You can’t see the rest of them because they’re wearing black.”

“Why are they wearing black? Are they in mourning?”

“No. They just like it.”

“I see. And who are the people? Constellations need proper names.”

He counted them off. “Josiah, Mama, Papa, Ateva, Ayra, and my brother.”

She hesitated before saying brightly, “Your...imaginary brother?”

“No. The one I’m going to get.”

“Really?” She readjusted the folds of her gown. “What makes you think that?”

“I want one.” That was usually enough reason, wasn’t it?

“What if it were a sister?”

He wrinkled his nose. “No, we already have too many of those. I want someone to play with me.”

“I see. Well, let’s talk to Papa about it.”

“Talk to me about what?” The other door off the balcony opened, and Papa emerged from his private study in his shirtsleeves, wearing his spectacles and clutching a bundle of papers. His tie was missing. “Josiah,” he said, “what are you doing up? You need your rest, and you shouldn’t bother your mother.”

Josiah shrank back. “I didn’t mean to bother her.”

He started to slide off her knees, but Mama held him back. “He wanted to stargaze with me tonight. He’s like me, can’t sleep when the heavens are so beautiful.”

The conversation, once Papa bent to kiss her and murmur something in her ear, ceased to interest Josiah. Finally Papa patted his shoulder and said, “Don’t stay out too late then,” and Josiah knew he could stay as long as he liked.

“This young man,” said Mama, “would like a brother.” She paused, as if she had just made a joke. Josiah didn’t know why. There was nothing funny about his urgent need.

“Well, if our clever little plan works out…” said Papa, bending down to put a long arm around her waist and whisper in her ear again. Mama turned pink and smiled.

“I was thinking that we might try finding him a friend. Someone his age to keep him company. He’ll be starting with the new tutors soon, and there’ll be no one else in the schoolroom. Perhaps not for several years,” she added quickly, glancing down at the studiously listening Josiah.

“We can’t bring in just anyone, though. There are so few who would make a suitable companion for the Hope of Lienne. Did you have anyone in mind?”

“Not off the top of my head, but I hardly know anyone’s children here.”

“I do,” said Papa grimly. “And I envy you. We can’t afford to let in any bad influences, especially at this stage. I’m sorry, Josiah, but you do perfectly well on your own, don’t you? You don’t need anyone to do lessons with. No one would be able to keep up with you anyway.”

Josiah put out his lip. “I want a brother,” he said in a dangerously petulant tone, prepared to explain more emphatically if they still didn’t understand.

“Prince Josiah,” began Papa sternly, but instead of scolding, he checked his pocket watch and turned back toward his study, saying, “Nyella, would you talk sense to him?”

“Odren? Where are you going?” said Mama.

He held up his papers. “Business, darling. You’ll have to excuse me.”

“Oh, that can wait. You’ve been at it all night. You’ve earned a rest. Shall we ring for chocolate and make a regular gazing party of it? We can talk about this another day.” She laid a long-fingered, soothing hand on Josiah’s and squeezed it, as if wringing out his temper. He remembered to take a slow breath and blow the last of it away. There was no need to be angry. Mama understood, and she would see to it that he got what he wanted.

“Tempting, darling, but—” Papa hesitated. “Wait for me?”

“You have exactly...” She fished out her watch brooch from among the ruffles. “Forty-three minutes before the invitation expires.”

Papa’s eyes glinted at the challenge. “Thirty-five at least, see if I don’t.”

“Do it in thirty and I’ll…” She stopped herself. “Well...you’ll be glad you did.”

Once he had dashed away, Mama rang for the chocolate and some biscuits. “No sense in making you wait for it, Yozi,” she said. “I get cross when I haven’t had my chocolate either. Oh,” she said to her maid, “if you see the princesses, send them in please. I want to speak to them.”

Ayra came shuffling in shortly afterward, hands in her pockets, with Ateva in her wake, forehead furrowed, babbling a flow of garbled apologies. Mama nudged Josiah off her knees and pushed herself up slowly by the arms of her chair to look down at the girls from her full height. She was only a few inches shorter than Papa (who went on for miles), and next to her Josiah’s elder sisters looked as insignificant as they really were.

“I understand,” said Mama in her sweetest tones, “that you thought it was a fine idea to leave your little brother alone in a dark room. Would you care to tell me more about this, ladies?”

“I’m so sorry!” cried Ateva. “We didn’t mean to, only we were in such a hurry and your brothers were waiting and I really didn’t want to leave him like that but—”

“I have no doubt it wasn’t your idea, Ateva, but then,” said Mama, crossing her arms, “you were not the one asked to see that he was put to bed.” She turned to Ayra.

Ayra met her gaze sullenly. “I wasn’t the one engaged as his nursemaid either.”

“I’m sorry that one task was too much to ask on a night when his nurse is off and I had an important meeting.”

“Must have been rather a short important meeting. If you have time for this.” Ayra raised her eyebrows at the telescope.

“What I do with my own leisure time is none of your business, young lady. And I was unaware that your timetable was so full.”

“It was, in fact. Full of entertaining your brothers. But I did put him to bed, no thanks to them, so I don’t see what the problem is.”

“You neglected his nightlight. And goodness knows what else.”

“I forgot. It was an honest mistake. And if he needs it so badly, he can light it himself.”

“I’m not allowed to play with fire,” said Josiah virtuously.

“You’re also not allowed to stay up past your bedtime fooling around with your uncles.”

He was almost certain Ayra had made up that rule. Only Mama and Papa could tell him what to do, so he needn’t listen to her.

“Your brother,” said Mama, “is six years old. You were the one given a responsibility. He needs your help, and you left him alone in the dark to cry. I hope that’s not how you plan to treat your own children someday.”

Ateva gave Ayra a pointed look, but Ayra said nothing.

“Show her the watch,” said Ateva. “Show her.”

Ayra fished a reluctant hand out of her pocket and uncurled her scratched fingers to reveal a mound of pocket watch insides and shards of glass amid the wreckage of their former home.

Once when Josiah had been taken for a walk in the royal park, he had nearly stepped on a bird that some cat had left in the path, with all its feathers and bits strewn about. He couldn’t look at it without feeling sick, and the sensation returned at the sight of the once-beautiful watch. Its polished gold was engraved with delicate curling designs on both sides around an ornate O and an inscription inside that Josiah hadn’t been able to read since it was in Faysmondian. Besides, the watch hadn’t been in his hand long enough.

“Josiah broke it,” said Ateva. “He took it from Ayra when she told him to go to bed and then he dropped it on the floor. And I’m sure he probably didn’t mean to, but—it’s awfully important, it was Mama’s, and he didn’t even say he was sorry and it’s just not fair to Ayra. She wasn’t going to mention it but I thought you should know.”

Mama surveyed the damage. “Did you break it, Yozi?”

Technically, the floor had broken it. He had barely touched it. He had never expected a drop to the marble floor would so thoroughly destroy the watch. Although Mama would likely understand, Papa might not when he heard, and it might distract him from Ayra’s crimes, which were far worse and required swift justice.

So Josiah widened his eyes in shock and said, “No!”

Ateva gasped.

Ayra clenched the ruined watch back into her fist. “Well, someone broke it, and I know I didn’t.”

“How could you?” said Ateva. “I saw it happen. Ayra’s telling the truth, Your Majesty. You have to believe her!”

Josiah pitied her. A twelve-year-old should be embarrassed to make such a dramatic spectacle of herself. He knew better, and he was only six and a half.

“Ateva,” said Mama, “I can’t blame you for trying to defend your sister. But honestly, Ayra, at your age this is ridiculous. A pity about your watch, and we can see about having it repaired, but must you blame Josiah? Surely you have more pressing concerns than making my little boy miserable?”

“You’re doing what?” thundered Papa’s voice. At the commotion, he had burst out of his study to investigate.

Ayra and Ateva, raising pleading eyes to him, both tried at once to present their side, but as Mama stepped in to explain that Ayra hadn’t been fulfilling her responsibilities, their faces fell in obvious guilt.

“Come to my study,” Papa said in a terrible voice. They trudged behind him through the door. Ateva’s hair ribbon draggled over her slumped shoulders, but Ayra’s narrow frame had stiffened to resemble a walking clothes rack. The study swallowed them up with a slam of the door.

Mama patted Josiah’s shoulder. “Your father will take care of them, don’t worry. I know you wouldn’t lie to me. Now, where were we?”

His face burned and his stomach knotted as he returned to her knees. He had lied to Mama. But if he admitted it, she wouldn’t think he was a good boy anymore. Josiah was good. He had to be. He had a perfectly good reason to lie.

And with his eye to the telescope again, the beauties of the heavens flooding his vision, and Mama’s voice surrounding him like an embrace as she told him stars’ names and how far away they lived, he soon forgot any discomfort. He nearly forgot his sisters, except when the muffled rumbles of voices drifted from the closed study.

Once the chocolate and biscuits arrived, his attention was entirely diverted. The golden-brown biscuits were stacked double, cut in star shapes in the middle to reveal gobs of raspberry jam within. They crumbled in the mouth, smooth and buttery, answered by the tart, squashy sweetness of the berries. Through increasingly sticky fingers, he demolished three biscuits and washed them down with the chocolate. Despite the warm evening, the heat running down his throat with a stripe of cool cream refreshed him.

He paused mid-sip, surprised, when Papa brought out the girls and lined them up in front of Mama.

“What do you say?” he growled.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” recited the girls. Ateva ducked her head, but Josiah didn’t miss her red nose and eyes. Ayra’s face had gone blank, and her mouth buttoned shut as soon as the words were out.

And of course Mama graciously forgave them and favored them with a smile as she sent them back to their room without offering them any biscuits and chocolate. The girls exited as they were told, though Ateva glanced over her shoulder at the partially filled tray. Josiah consumed another biscuit with satisfaction, for, as a good child who didn’t need a scolding, he had earned it.

“Do you see what I mean, Odren?” said Mama.

“I’m sorry, love. If they ever give you any nonsense again, send them straight to me.”

“Oh, I would anyway, but I think a certain someone really could use some company his own age.”

Josiah surfaced from the chocolate glass to remind them. “What I want is a brother. Not a stranger.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” said Papa. “I’ll start investigating tomorrow. Doesn’t Böllingfurt have a son about the right age?”

“Three years older, I believe Erna said.”

Papa shook his head. “No more than a year older, if at all. I’ll ask around.” But his unfinished business demanded attention, leaving Josiah and Mama once more together at the telescope.

“Yozi,” she said, “if you were to have a brother, or a sister—if—I can’t promise anything, he or she would be a baby. It would be a long time before that baby would be old enough to play with. And by then— Well, you might be away at school. And he—or she—would be at home.”

“I don’t want to go away to school.”

“Your father wants you to, but not till you’re much older. You’ll want to go by then. And of course you and your brother would love each other and be good friends, but...it wouldn’t be quite like what you’re expecting.”

Josiah struggled to wrap his mind around this. As far as he could tell, the whole situation was the result of gross negligence. “I should have been a twin, Mama. Or we should have had a brother much sooner.” He took a long sip of his chocolate and eyed her over the rim of the glass.

“There wasn’t anything I could do about that, even at—oh, Yozi!” Her serious tone turned into laughter. “Look at you!”

“What did I do?” She shouldn’t laugh; he had raised a perfectly reasonable point.

“Cream on your nose! That’s not where it goes, silly!”

Josiah permitted himself a slight giggle while she wiped it off with her handkerchief.

“Trying to have a moustache like Papa too, I see,” she said. That got a real laugh out of him. “See? That’s something you could do with a friend that you couldn’t with a baby: sharing chocolate. And you could play together and do lessons and practice your music and have adventures together. You can’t do that with a stranger. But you can with a friend—more than that, a—a companion. Wouldn’t you like a companion?”

He nibbled another biscuit and thought it over. “I might.”

“I know it would be new, and new things often frighten you. They’re strange; you don’t know anything about them or what to do. But sometimes new things are much better than you expect. We gazed at stars tonight that are new to us, didn’t we? And our household is like that. We discover new members, and they make everything more beautiful. So you’re going to be brave and try it, won’t you? You’ll be kind to your companion and use your best manners and make him feel at home?”

He nodded hesitantly.

“That’s my good boy.” She kissed the top of his head and offered him the last biscuit.

“Perhaps,” he said, committing to a mouthful before he could admit to himself that he didn’t really want a sixth biscuit, “he would like to see the brothers constellation with us when it comes back later.”

“I promise you, Yozi,” said Mama, “we’ll do exactly that in December. It can be a birthday treat.”

“And you won’t forget?”

“I won’t if you won’t.”

“I won’t. Never ever ever.”

Once he filed away the promise and locked it in his brain for future reference, he couldn’t lose it. December was such a long time to wait, months and months, but he could count on the stars to plod their way through the heavens on time, and Mama to keep her promise, and perhaps even his new companion to stay by his side and listen reverently as Josiah related his astronomical discoveries.

Perhaps he didn’t really want a brother after all.

#The Blackberry Bushes #The Blackberry Bushes short stories #Constellation of Six #my writing #Josiah Callon #Nyella Callon #Odren Callon #Ayra Callon #Ateva Callon

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