#salamiwrites

[samsalami66]

A Canvas For Revenge

Hob/Dream | Explicit | Graphic Depictions of Violence | 3.6K

CW: Torture, Gore, Blood, Morally Grey Characters

Summary: Hob Gadling is a man of devotion and of loyalty. While saving his oldest friend from Roderick Burgess, he takes his time to turn the Nightmare King's torturer into a a blood-offering with methods he learned in his youth.

More under the cut or on ao3!

Dreams do not find Roderick Burgess anymore.

For fifteen years now, he has slept without dreaming, in silence, in peace. No nightmares of death and poverty, of his Randall lying dead in a trench in Gallipoli. These days, the only things that plague his mind are Alex and Ethel, and the Endless trapped in his basement. But those problems keep to his waking hours, and so at night, he finds rest. The first true rest, in as long as he can remember.

It is almost poetic that capturing The Prince of Stories is what finally grants him peace, a happy end to his story, which has never known anything but death and suffering.

Perhaps Destiny has it out for his younger brother. Perhaps the old fucker decided Roderick finally deserves something good, after everything.

That he deserves riches and magic and life. He deserves to live. Forever, even. Perhaps he might. He’s already feeling younger than he had five years ago, his vitality coming back to him the longer the Dreamlord sits unmoving in his cage.

Living forever… what a thought. To see the rise and fall of nations, of kings and politicians, to see how the world tears itself apart with war and greed. Roderick might just enjoy an eternity of that. An eternity of pain.

Not his own, of course. Never his own.

Roderick turns in his bed, the fantasies he spins in his mind making him deaf to the creak of the stairs, and blind to the shadow darting along the corridor outside his room. While he imagines tales of revolution and war, of torture and screams, he does not hear the gasps of dying life before his door, the thump of bodies hitting wood, and does not feel the sweeping gaze of Death as she reaps soul after soul.

She is busy tonight.

For all that Roderick believes to know about her and her siblings, believes himself grand and knowledgeable and superior, he does not even stir when she settles into the armchair to his right to await her final appointment of the day.

And this one promises to be an entertaining one, at least. Six hundred years of experience tend to make a man creative.

When Hob Gadling enters the bedroom of Roderick Burgess, it is with practised ease and quiet. He barely disturbs the air around him as he locks the door behind him, and his boots make no sound as he strides towards the man laying in bed, caught up in stories that were not his own. Dream would not grant him such dreams, were he free. Death knows this. And so she feels nothing but satisfaction when Hob holds a bloody dagger to the old man’s throat, and feels the fantasies turn and twist, into what her brother would call a Waking Nightmare. Although, she doubts any of his creations could come close to the vision that Hob makes in that moment.

The man is clad from head to toe in black leathers, gloves covering strong hands where they hold the dagger. But his eyes… nothing would ever match a human’s lust for blood, for revenge, Death knows this well. And Roderick was stupid enough to get the one with the most pent up bloodlust on this planet on his bad side. Robert is a dangerous man, when it comes to that, and old Burgess will find out about that just in time.

“Who- Who are you?” Roderick stammers. His eyes flick around in the dark in the search of something to defend himself with. But there is nothing in reach, and Hob knows this. He doesn’t look away from Roderick, his eyes fixed on those of the other man and he presses the dagger further into his throat. The smell of blood begins to seep into the room, but it gets swallowed hungrily by the foundations of Fawney Rig, the manor's bloodlust matching that of the man who will burn it down to the ground.

“I, old man, am your end.” Hob replies, his voice quiet but cutting, an auditory representation of the weapon he holds.

“If it's money you want-” Burgess cuts off with a pained groan as Robert presses the dagger further into his throat with a condescending click of his tongue.

“You will speak when spoken to, and will think twice about offending me with your narrow-minded world-view.” Silence follows those words, and Hob nods approvingly. “Good boy. Now, you have someone in your manor. Trapped.”

The fear in Roderick's eyes grows upon hearing Hob's words and Death can't help but smile to herself as she watches the man swallow and nod.

“This man-” Roderick opens his mouth to protest the fact that Dream could be anything close to a man, but Hob shuts him up with another swift move if his dagger. Never enough to kill, only to cause pain. “This man you have trapped. He is important to me. He is my friend. And I do not take kindly to posh old bastards stealing away the people I love and keeping them in their basements.”

Only just does Roderick resist the urge to laugh at Hob’s words, but the disgust is clear in his face and his tone, even if only one of them carries over the darkness of Night.

“Oh, come off it, beings like him don’t have friends. Especially not some human mortal.”

For a moment, Hob is silent, contemplating an idea. Death can see that it makes Roderick nervous, his throat constricting uncomfortably against the sensation of the knife pressing into the thin wound Hob has left behind so far. He doesn’t dare to speak, too afraid the other man might take the only thing he has left in his miserable existence.

But after some minutes, Hob finally nods and shifts the knife so it presses deeper into Roderick’s neck and so that he can whisper the next words into the other man’s ear. His voice is cold and clear as he speaks, a tone that immediately sends chills down Roderick’s back with fear.

“Do you want to hear a story, old man?” In an astonishing display of intelligence, Roderick slowly nods in response. “Smart thing,” Hob whispers, grinning. “Once upon a time, there was a man, sitting in a tavern with his friends. They talked and drank and joked, like they did every day. Normally, no one paid the drunken peasants any mind as their tongues loosened and their words got bolder. But on this day, when a man called Death stupid and proclaimed he would never die, someone was listening. Someone walked up to the man, pale as the moon and dressed in black, the red gem of a Lord resting on his chest, and asked to meet him in this very tavern, in a hundred years time.” Hob pauses there, takes a deep breath, and then grins. “That day was the seventh of June, 1389. And the man met with his mysterious stranger every hundred years after that day, over 542 years. And in order for his stranger to make their meeting in 1989, the man has to make sure that his friend doesn’t get hurt, or captured.”

“You’re lying!” Came Roderick’s hissed answer, the anger boiling in his throat spilling over into his tone. “This devil would never grant a peasant immortality.”

Once again, Hob grins, the echoes of memory shining in his eyes. “Oh, he’s no devil. And it’s been a while since I was a peasant, but I’m telling the truth. Alive, until I’m asking for Death. Now, how about we see how long you will stick around until you're begging for her sweet relief?”

“You will be waiting a long fucking time then.” Roderick spits in response, but Hob only tsks at him and grins with a glint in his eyes that matches that of Death’s brother when he is Nightmare more than Dream.

“Oh but Roddy, you forget something vital.” He gives Roderick’s cheek a friendly slap as his grin widens into something downright predatory. “I'm a mediaeval peasant. I grew up with torture so much worse than your privileged little modern brain could ever imagine. I saw a man being ripped apart limb by limb when I walked down the market square with my mum, saw a supposed witch’s stomach being eaten by rats as she screamed and begged for Hell to take her in. Oh, I know just the thing to break your precious pride, your resolve. You will scream so prettily for me, Roderick.”

The other man is struck silent at Hob’s words, at the edge of true malevolence in his voice. As all humans, Hob Gadling is neither an inherently good nor an inherently bad man. And, much like many others of his species, he is a thing spurred on by love. Love for life, love for learning, love for his friends. Hurting that which he loves has never turned out well for the offenders in the past. Death would know, after all she greeted all of them with the same satisfied smirk once Hob was done with them, and led them each to the Gates of Hell.

And after some centuries, she has come to appreciate Hob’s ways of delivering these souls into her domain. Watching him work was like witnessing an artist sculpt the most horrifyingly gorgeous pieces out of blood and bones and viscera, mediums only few would consider to handle with such reverence. But weren't all humans made up of these things? Why would a living human be any more beautiful than an Artwork of Death?

Each of those Hob has killed were offerings to her, sacrifices which she accepted with a smile as she felt the part of her that was fed by worship grow. And Roderick? He will make for the finest offering yet, with what he has done to her little brother, to Hob's most sacred friend.

Roderick will suffer. Hob will make sure of it.

“Just recently, I started studying history,” Hob begins to recall, threateningly calm as he pulls out knife after knife from his jacket and places them out of Roderick’s reach to his side, almost as if he were setting up a space for surgical instruments. “Can you believe it? A mediaeval peasant, studying the history he himself has lived through. Ironic, eh?” He pauses on a knife with jagged edges, smiles, and puts it all the way to the front. “As I was catching up on some stuff I had forgotten about again, the human brain can only carry so much information at once after all, I came across a rather funny section in a chapter on mediaeval torture methods.”

“What in God’s holy name could be funny about a passage on torture methods of a bunch of lunatics.” The other man hisses, and the movement of his throat causes the dagger to cut further into his flesh. The smell of iron in the room strengthens and the grin on Hob’s face grows with it.

“I'll let that misstep count because it's an excellent question. You see, Roddy, the passage talked about the infamous Blood Eagle, a method of torture and execution used by Vikings in the mediaeval era, of which they found several accounts in Norse scripture. But it seems to be unclear if this method actually existed or if it is just a product of mistranslation, especially as no archaeological finds could so far prove that it is indeed real.” Hob chuckles then, dark and thick and entirely devoid of humour. “But I remember it well. The little tradition carried over all the way to ol’ England and of course they had to try it. But where are the archaeological finds, if it was practised all over England? Well, you see, there are some things too gruesome even for a bloodthirsty mediaeval peasant to witness. There are some things better left sealed away and buried, things you will never unhear, things you will relive every single night for the rest of your life. And oh, how I'm looking forward to hearing your screams for the rest of my unending life. Every. Single. Night.”

And with those words, Hob gets to work. He guides Roderick out of his bed and orders him to kneel in the middle of the floor with the dagger still held to his throat. The old man is shaking with fear beneath Hob’s steady hands, his heart-rate worryingly high. Death would worry about him dying of a heart attack before Hob had his way with him, but then it’s well within her power to deny Roderick her gift just long enough for him to suffer through all Hob has planned… as repayment for his constant offerings, of course. To honour five hundred years of worship.

Death gets dragged out of her musings by a scream that echoes through the halls of the manor and seeps into its very foundations. It feeds into the darkness of this place, the inherent evil Roderick began to raise here with his Order of Ancient Mysteries. Once, he fed it with the screams of the innocent, with their fear and blood and tears. It comes as no surprise that a building of such corruption would turn against its creator without a second glance, would feed off him as it did off everything else. It seems to embrace the jagged knife that now pins Rodericks lower leg to its foundations, swallowing each rivulet of blood as it runs down the edge and pools on the cold stone.

“You bastard!” Roderick howls, his hands moving to rip the offending object out of his leg, but he realises rather quickly that the stone around him has begun to betray him, for the knife does not give. He is pinned to the floor, kneeling, completely at Hob Gadling’s mercy.

“When I was a lad, they said that if you could withstand this torture without screaming, you would be granted a place in heaven, despite your sins. Think you can earn yourself a ticket to the Almighty, Roddy?” Hob taunts from above him, a new knife already held in his hands. That grin of his, wild and predatory, turns into one of smug concentration as he cuts through Roderick's sleepwear and throws away the fabric after, revealing his canvas for the night. He runs the dull side of the blade once over the length of Roderick’s back, as if mapping out the diameters for his next artwork.

“You're sick! Utterly insane!”

A rather weak insult, all things considered, but eloquence tends to fail people in the presence of Death.

“Oh, yes.” Hob Gadling agrees, and then he presses the knife into Roderick’s flesh, deep, until he hits the ligaments that connect the ribs to the spine. It’s precise, clinical as much as it is artistic, a first brushstroke made by a steady hand. The scream Roderick lets out only contemplates the red trickling down his back and eventually mixing with the blood from his leg on the cold stone floor. It all looks the same in the dark, the same deep red that all humans bleed. But Roderick’s blood is darker in its essence, it holds all the hatred this man feels for the world. It looks much better spilled than it did flowing beneath Roderick's ashen skin.

The next cuts Hob Gadling makes sever the ligaments connecting Roderick's ribs to his spine, which makes it easy for him to pop out one joint after the other with strong hands, each sickening squelch of bones and flesh and blood accompanied by screams and cries and sobs. Roderick is not a pretty crier, and not a very proud man. He begs for mercy he does not deserve, promises compensation he cannot give. But Hob shows no sign of interest in such begging, ignores his pleas in favour of his work. Each move of his hands contributes to the sculpture he was turning Roderick into, forming his flesh like lesser artists would form clay. Hob is a man of the flesh, and so he knows this medium well. Better, perhaps, than those who invented the method.

Death remembers that the vikings and mediaeval executioners were much less precise in their torture than Robert is now. They broke bones where he disconnects joins, ripped muscle where he cuts it with the skills of a surgeon. Watching him work is beautiful in its darkness, its horror, downright nightmare-inducing. Dream will enjoy knowing Hob is doing this in his name, in his image. A show of devotion unlike any previous lover her brother held dear. And to think they have parted in anger last they met over the notion of friendship, when Hob now stands above his oldest friend's torturer, painting him into a picture of revenge.

Hob forces his knife behind Roderick's ribs next, severs what little flesh is still connecting them to the man’s inner organs. Death catches a glimpse of the beating heart underneath, the lungs contracting and expanding on every single of Roderick's sobs. But she only gets a full view of those inner workings once Hob forces his hands into the now free spaces, and pulls.

The scream Roderick lets out is one Death hasn't heard for centuries, one that has been buried and burned with the witches and murderers of the Middle Ages, only alive now in some of the souls in her Lands. But she does not usually make a habit of relishing in the screams of her wards, of those she serves. Roderick's screams are an exception. They are satisfaction given form, they appeal to the darkest parts of her being, the ones that crave revenge and blood prices and sacrifice in her name. When those ribs finally break under Hob’s hands the sound sends a shiver down Death’s spine, and she smiles indulgently as Hob moves them into position. He takes his time with it, unfazed by the blood on his hands and the heart beating under his hands. Once he is satisfied with the placement of the wings, the angle in which they stretch towards the ceiling, he runs a reverent finger over Roderick’s ever-beating heart.

“Beautiful,” he breathes, and smears the blood now on his hands over Roderick’s chest, right over where he can see his heart beating on the other side. A signature, marking his final satisfaction. “In Death, even a little maggot like you can learn what it’s like to be a butterfly.”

Roderick does not answer, does not seem to be capable of words, and so Hob just straightens with a smile on his face and sheathes his knives. Death does not see what Hob does next, for she doesn’t seem to be able to take her eyes off the kneeling man before her, not even for a second. All that she knows is that Hob returns moments after with her brother’s tools of office. The ruby glints much like Roderick’s blood in the light of the moon shining through the window, and Death can feel its magic strengthening with the devotion in the room, with the dreams of revenge fulfilled and forgiveness earned hanging in the air. He lays the tools out behind Roderick as if placing offerings at an altar, even closes his eyes in prayer. Hob Gadling knows the worship of old, knows the power it grants to their kind, and he is ready to pour all his knowledge into the revenge of his oldest friend.

Devoted to a fault.

“Please,” Roderick’s voice is raw from his cries, and his breathing is heavy, his lungs expanding much further than they should. “Please, just let me die.”

Only the answering silence in Hob’s sudden absence tells Death that the other man did not say these words to his tormentor, and so it takes her a moment to allow her eyes to leave the offerings and meet his eyes in the darkness of a blood red night. Presumably, Hob has left to free Dream of his cage, to bring him upstairs and present him with his artwork of devotion. Roderick will not receive her gift, not until her brother is here to witness Roderick’s final breath.

“You wished to summon me, Roderick Burgess, to beg for immortality. Is this not what you asked for?” A petty question. She enjoys asking it more than she wishes to admit.

“Not like this. Never like this.” A groan of pain escapes Burgess, and Death smiles.

“You do not get to choose the manner in which we meet, Roddy. You do not get to make demands from the likes of us. And you do not get to imprison us, display us like insects and expect no punishment.”

Roderick opens his mouth as if to answer, but then a shadow spreads throughout the room and steals away his voice, the air in his lungs and the warmth from his blood. Her brother is the furthest thing from human as he snakes around Roderick’s tortured body, around his artfully exposed heart, and in his wake leaves pain anew, before he locks Roderick’s mind into a carefully crafted dream of endless torture.

Hob Gadling stands in the open door, bloodied, an artist covered in the remnants of his work, smiling as Dream takes the mind of his tormentor for himself, plunging him into darkness unfathomable to the human imagination. He looks fond, unbelievably so, when the shadow that is Dream takes a more human shape again, although it is more Nightmare than Dream, more carnage than fantasy.

“You did this. For me.” Dream says, slowly, and Death stands to take her leave, unseen by both Hob Gadling and her brother. Even when indulging her darker urges does she not wish to impose on her little brother’s private affairs.

The last thing she hears before taking flight with Roderick’s spirit is Hob’s response, a dangerously quiet vow.

“For you, love, I’d make the entire world my canvas.”

[jaycypressus]

𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐈𝐑 | 𝐀𝐋𝐇𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐔

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄❧ social media au, angst, fluff, enemies-to-lovers

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘❧ After a less than stellar meeting your freshman year, you and Alhaitham have never learned to get along. However, as the top two in your literature class, you are often used as an example. This time your professor wants both of you to star on a… podcast?

𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐒❧ ongoing, talk to me about it in my inbox!

𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓❧

𝐩𝐫𝗼𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐬❧

𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐡 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝗼𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐥 || 𝐡𝗼𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧

𝐈. 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝗼𝐫 𝐞𝐱𝐭𝐫𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐢𝐠

𝐈𝐈. 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐬 + 𝐚𝐧𝐧𝗼𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝗺𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐬 ❀

𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝗺𝐚𝐬𝗼𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐬𝗺?

𝐈𝐕. 𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐬𝗼𝐝𝐞 𝗼𝐧𝐞 ❀ 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐫 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐚𝐫

𝐕. 𝐩𝗼𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐟𝗼𝐫𝐜𝐞𝗺𝐞𝐧𝐭

𝐕𝐈. 𝐩𝐫𝗼𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝗼𝐧

𝐕𝐈𝐈. 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐥 𝗼𝐩𝐬 ❀

𝐕𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐭𝗼𝗼 𝐟𝐚𝐫??

𝐈𝐗. 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝗼𝐟 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬

𝐗. 𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐢?

𝐗𝐈. 𝐧𝗼𝐭 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝗺𝐞

𝐗𝐈𝐈. 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝗺𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 ❀

𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝗼𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝗼𝐧

𝐗𝐈𝐕. 𝐜𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝗺𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐬 ❀

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓❧

@ruisann @imma-too-many-fandoms @fyodorsv @coffeecasket @kokxm1 @lunastarjay @dksfl920 @chiisananingen @itonashi @pidgey-ontheloose @ceylestia @jinxnotpowder @natsum-s @xirthia @adorablezhui @sunsethw4 @deartoru @baelloraa @nambii @simplyxsinned @aixaingela @whipped-for-fictionals @keithsaccount @blayxe @nekogakuro @richxelle @rifran @flutterawayx @nolvngerhvman @celestair @klementime @apinu @http-mewchuu @phoenix-eclipses @court-jester-stuff @flqwerdoll @dustofthedailylife @albedos-world @taoluv @salamiwrites @imkaaayy

Comment or send an ask to be added…

[jayvolans]

𝐥𝗼𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝗼𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫 | 𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝗺 𝐬𝗺𝐚𝐮

𝐗𝐕. 𝐂𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐃

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝗼𝐮𝐬❧ 𝗺𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭❧ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭❧

miss me? :’)

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 (open)❧

@ruisann @imma-too-many-fandoms @coffeecasket @kokxm1 @lunastarjay @dksfl920 @chiisananingen @itonashi @pidgey-ontheloose @ceylestia @jinxnotpowder @natsum-s @adorablezhui @sunsethw4 @deartoru @baelloraa @nambii @simplyxsinned @aixaingela @whipped-for-fictionals @keithsaccount @blayxe @nekogakuro @richxelle @rifran @flutterawayx @nolvngerhvman @celestair @apinu @http-mewchuu @phoenix-eclipses @court-jester-stuff @dustofthedailylife @albedos-world @taoluv @salamiwrites @imkaaayy @turtl3-warr1or @zombieb1t3 @nachotrash @xiaossocksniffer @spilloverlove @thenightsflower @feverish-dove @evilenchantresss @sharkiestory @ayanokomu @deathkat657 @deffenferofjustice @theblueblub @wonderland-fan

[genshinology]

MINUS ONE — chapter 02 : the most replayed part

PREVIOUS | MASTERLIST | NEXT

SUMMARY. placing second in your year every single time can be tiresome, as childe will always snatch the first place and you will always be behind him. you hate his right answers and the winning smirk he directs at you whenever he gets a perfect score, while you, more often than not, end up with a minus one from his perfect 100. stalking his youtube channel is not exactly an ideal plan to start your mission of obtaining the #1 spot, but hey, apparently, childe gives out great content for super motivated students like so you couldn't really blame yourself for that.

(or, alternatively, you find yourself attracted to him the more you admire his channel from afar. but wait, hold up, aren't you supposed to be his academic rival?! it is even worse when you need to interview childe for the teyvat university's monthly issue too.)

NOTES. i'm sorry for the long gap between this chapter and the previous one. life has been super busy recently and a big apology i owe to each and every one of you for the blurry images. my phone is acting up nowadays. guess i do need a new one asap. anyways, this feels super rushed but please enjoy nonetheless!!

🏷️ : @ajaxstar @sussydemon @kailluaken @covenantofthedeep @dawndelion-winery @miitchiji @lacy-lady @cocoxcola @nakurak @raideneiari @modmochi @kunikuzushiit @salamiwrites @kitsuvil @liewastooshort @celestair @useless-potatho @cridtiins @wrrapedroundmyfingerlikearing @lady-elodie @anniejourn @goddessofself @tatiratty @shirmxie @dylthedumbass @zannivrs @lowotad @kittycasie @ani-st @izzyandviolins @b0bafl0wer @dearxiiao @blov3d (usernames in bold are the ones that couldn't be tagged.)

[salamiwrites]

MONSIEUR NEUVILLETTE

A fun lil poem I cooked up, hope you enjoy <3

Characters mentioned: Neuvillette, Navia, Callas, Arlecchino (nameless)

#masterlist

“Hydro dragon, oh hydro dragon, please don’t cry,”

sung the people of Fontaine.

Staring at the sky, one may think, why must it rain?

Rain came down in torrents, no one dared to pry.

In the land of justice, one concludes that fairness is a must.

Yet if such is the case, then why is the system so unjust?

Many look on with glee,

when the unfairly charged attempt to flee.

Trials pass, aristocrats come and go.

With parasols in hand and servants in tow,

In sumptuous parties they demand,

They berate and reprimand,

innocents in the stand.

Navia, maiden with the wavy blonde hair,

sits dejected, with pain too much to bear.

The gloomy sky cast a sorry glance, 

tightened fist and clenched jaw, she yelled in agony,

“Neuvillette, how could you simply indulge in song and dance

as my father lost his honour? How could you do this to me?”

Her father- Callas, once a desirable lad,

so much so the citizens of Fontaine deemed it fad.

The abuse he endured, 

being thrown insults or manure,

harmed his psyche for sure.

In the court case before him,

Callas was accused of a severe crime.

Turning the tide? The chances were slim.

Aristocrats sniggered,  “Snitches get stitches, 

while we continue on with our riches.”

Neuvillette’s flame smoulder,

the truth, he wish he had told her,

In truth, indulge in song and dance he did not,

judging Callas fairly was no afterthought.

However, unseen hands forced him onto the ballroom floor.

A Snezhnayan diplomat, what an eyesore.

Contrasting many a crown, headdress, jewel,

She was cunning, conniving and cruel.

The headdresses she wore, oh so grand,

complemented elaborate schemes, 

orchestrated by her manipulative hand.

Contrasting the glimmering necklaces she wore,

Her true nature, a venomous core.

Neuvillette yearned to recoil in disgust,

but maintain diplomatic relations he must.

Thus he feigned pleasure that night,

In time, things will be set right.

With words left hanging in the air,  Neuvilette motioned to leave.

He didn’t understand human emotions, but in select situations- he might deceive.

His mind littered with questions with answers he could not find,

Never seeming to understand, the heart’s mind.

The palais mermonia, such sorrows does it remind-

Neuvillette casts it aside,

and instead sought solace in the tides, 

which crashes and subsides.

“Woe is me, 

Callas’ judgement I couldn’t reprieve,”

“Woe is me,

his body found under the sea.”

He could never look at the ocean the same,

as such, he returned home to take the blame.

Melusines at his beck and call,

gather with unease in the hall.

Such intelligent creatures brought by him,

carrying expressions so grim.

“Monsieur, oh Monsieur, please don’t cry,”

They attempt to mollify.

With gentle words, they tried to ease the pain.

Having emotions, what is there to gain?

The weight of guilt, heavy upon his soul,

encouraged the raging waves to roll.

“Melusines,” He began with a voice so low,

“I failed him, my friend not foe.

I have not done my part,

this decision weighs heavy on my heart.”

Navia, a witness to the dragon’s confession,

ceased her aggression.

Navia, with her spirit proud, 

Joined the fight, her voice clear and loud. 

No longer grieving, she sought to reclaim 

Her father's honour and his rightful name.

Trials held, the truth laid bare,

aristocrats quiver, captured in the snare.

With combined efforts, such fraudulence faded.

Perhaps time will heal the jaded.

With newfound purpose, he pledged to atone,

The innocent, will no longer suffer alone.

Triumphant, the trumpets will sound.

SALAMIWRITES © 2024. Please do not plagiarize, repost or rework this piece.

[forsworned]

HI!! I would like to ask if you could add me to the taglist of another era another universe? this shit is actually getting me hooked and makes me feel ❤️❤️❤️🦋🦋🦋 when i read it, thanks a lot!! (Im glad gyomei is getting more love🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️)

ofc i can!! and bruh 😭😭😭😭😭 EVERY TIME YALL SAY THAT I START TEARING TF UP U DONT UNDERSTAND I GET SO FUCKING HAPPYYYY THANK YOUUUUU

and yes u r correct gyomei deserves all the love in the world 🌷

[andraxicated]

-LOVERS OF THE EMPRESS- (series masterlist)

Pairings: Genshin men x f! reader

Synopsis: Born and bred to be empress, your clan has sent many women to the royal court but never the most coveted position out of them all. Thanks to your schematic family, the moment you came to this world was when the first empress has been rid of, presenting the fate of a mere newborn. Try to adjust to your life in the throne as your heart is shaken by the men who came to your life, one after another. Either as a passerby, a lesson or perhaps true love.

Tags: royalty! au | reverse harem | teyvat empire! au | contains smut/suggestive scenes | angst & fluff/comfort

Status: ongoing Taglist: @strverry @crstilia @ayatoistt @mnemosyneechan @elysiasbei @junephantom21 @kaitlinxyna @apr1cityyy @venti-cecilia @a0ruu @jackysenpaii @loveyasaraa @poweredbyghostadventures @noisyghostranchthing @traumamakesmefunnier @nxjttmr @asteller @earthernal @ultra-ummmm-blr @veralioz @sukunasrealgf @eeeeee12111111 @lizzyolanda1966 @qnnln @kyojade @salamiwrites @eliciana @thearcanafan @k-4lzki @clove-x @differentmusicbakingknight @simp4bakuh03 @deepdinosaurwizard @mei-simp @n-akaharachuuya @moonlightaangel @aminormistakewasmade @makirein @sakublooms @longppanoodle @inl6vewithglenn @semi-orangeapple @neneyashir6

a/n: compiled all the manhwas I read into the ultimate whatever this is | chapters are character centered while going with the flow of the story with appearances from other love interests.

prologue

chapter one | the prince's comfort

chapter two | dorian

chapter three | springtime crush

chapter four | man on the tower

chapter five | sanctuary in the woods

chapter six | what he saw that night

-future chapters tba-

end notes: this. was supposed to be a smut headcanon. like you fuck around and stuff but it got too much inspiration so it turned to this. and I absolutely love royalty au so I felt like it would be a wasted potential to make it a smut headcanon. + let me know if u want to be tagged.

[captaincryolicious]

Your bookstore crush II

➳ Alhaitham x gn!reader

➳ Oneshot ; 2.7k

➳ Fluff, humor, pining, modern AU ; No warnings

Even after weeks of working together, your crush on your handsome co-worker hasn't faded yet. If any, it only grew stronger. [29.10.2022] [part one] [part three]

Zep's Note ; Part two, as promised! Tagging those who asked for it! @kaewrlds @kunikuzushicandegrademefr @yukina-otome @akrispykrisp @naruuie @rieooeo @salamiwrites

content under the cut | masterlist

     “Thank you for your purchase, how are you enjoying the series so far?” you asked the blue-haired boy in front of the counter. He was a regular customer, and he just bought the fifth part of an ongoing series that was insanely popular. 

     “It’s quite good, but I have to admit that I’m still waiting for a plot twist,” he replied, stuffing the book into his bag as he offered you a smile. “But the writing is on point and so is the characterisation, so you won’t hear me complain.” 

     “That’s a good point,” you mused out loud. “I’m only at part three so I don’t really know as much as you do, though.” 

     “The story drags on like this for a few books, you’ll see,” the boy told you.

     “I see,” you nodded, flashing him a smile. “Anyway, enjoy reading and until next time!” 

He left the store, and you moved away from the cash desk to help your co-worker relocate some of the books to make room for a new series that was about to be released. Alhaitham was already on it, but he had ceased his work and was looking at you instead. 

It had been a couple of weeks since the bookstore opened, and you were quite content with your new job. After overcoming a fair share of awkwardness that was effortly induced after your colleague boldly saved himself in your contacts as ‘your bookstore crush’  (which was true, though you still didn’t admit that to Alhaitham), you started to get along just fine. You really had to get used to his quiet and stoic demeanor and his often blunt and straight-to-the-point remarks and the way he flustered the heck out of you sometimes, but eventually you decided they were simply part of his charm. Even after a few weeks of working together, he was still a mystery. But you had gotten closer, you could tell from the way Alhaitham indulged in small talk with you far more often and he brought dried Zaytun peaches to share with you almost every day. 

That aside, you just enjoyed working at the bookstore, regardless of your colleague. It was fun to be surrounded by books and their smell, you were always up-to-date with the newest releases and latest rumors and updates in the world of fiction, you made good use of the employer discount, and you learned a lot of new skills. 

     “Customers always seem happier when you help them,” the male with silver hair remarked when you crouched down next to him, ready to take some books off the lower shelves. He asked, “What is your secret?”

You pondered for a moment, your eyes flickering to Alhaitham’s face. He looked back at you, serious as ever, his expression completely neutral and evened out. Though he was insanely handsome, and you were struggling to look at him without blushing, he didn’t have that kind of shine that would awaken a spark of enthusiasm in the customers. 

      “Maybe it’s because I smile at them a lot,” you wondered. “You know, people pick up someone’s vibe easily, so if you approach them with enthusiasm, they might reciprocate it. Not to be mean or something, but when you help customers you kinda look at them as if–” 

     “As if what?” Alhaitham asked, narrowing his eyes at you.

     “You’re so serious,” you quickly said, dodging his question because you had no idea how to finish the sentence you started. “And don’t get me wrong, you look really handso– Uhm, I guess people just pick up my cheerful vibe and mirror it right back.” You felt like burying your face in the palms of your hands in utter embarrassment. You still stumbled over your words way too often around him, blurting out things you shouldn’t. 

In the few weeks you worked together, you also learned that Alhaitham wasn’t dense. Either that, or your many slip-ups were just too obvious. Or maybe both. He gave it away when he gave back your phone after entering that ridiculously accurate contact name. Alhaitham was not oblivious, but it appeared that he simply chose to ignore your crush. In a way, it was sort of sad, but you were also grateful. Now you could at least work together and pretend nothing was going on – aside from those moments where you messed up or your co-worker seemed to fluster you on purpose. 

He was scrutinizing you, and you had to do something to ease the awkwardness that hung in the air. 

     “There is nothing wrong with being serious, of course,” you were quick to add. “But if you want to make customers happy too, maybe you should smile at them when they make a purchase.”

Now that you thought about it, did you ever see Alhaitham smile? Sure, you’ve heard him chuckle occasionally, but never really did you see a smile form on his features. He was a solemn guy, but for that reason it always felt like there was some sort of distance between you, a distance that couldn’t be crossed. 

     “Smile more, you say?” Alhaitham brought out. 

What happened after he spoke was very funny to you. He pressed his mouth into a tense thin line, and while the corners of his lips tilted up a little, it didn’t look at all convincing. His eyes didn’t necessarily sell the look, either. If this was his version of a polite smile, there was a lot of work to do. It looked precisely fabricated, but it completely missed the mark. You snorted, hiding a laugh behind your hand.

     “Okay, cut it out,” you chuckled. “You look like a menace to society now.” 

Your mind flew back to that one moment where he pressed his firm chest against your back, ostensibly with the intention of helping you with those books on the top shelf. The thought alone was enough to make your cheeks heat up again, but it also awakened a plan in your mind. Two could play that game. 

     “Smile, Alhaitham. Smile!” you chimed.

You were going to make him smile today, even if it was the last thing you’d ever do.

Alhaitham’s expression relaxed after the weird grimace he put up, but his eyes widened when you reached out your hands. Beaming at him as you ignored the nervousness you felt, you put your index fingers on the corners of his mouth and gently tugged them upward a little. His brows jumped in surprise above his turquoise irises, and his entire body tensed over momentarily. In a swift movement, he whisked your wrists away using his hands, but the corners of his mouth didn’t drop when your hands were removed. A genuine smile rested on his lips, one filled with amusement.

     “You really are something else, Y/N,” he chuckled, releasing your wrists. 

You couldn’t help the smile that crossed your features, now that he offered you a smile that was as real as it could get. As if you were spellbound, you couldn’t take your eyes away, but you barely realized that you were staring, just as much as you failed to notice how he was staring right back at you. Momentarily, his strong and stoic demeanor had vanished, making room for a man who looked more open and approachable – and soft – than he ever did before. Your heart was pounding, captured and allured by the magic of that very moment. 

Only when the bell above the door rang excitedly, you snapped out of your little daze. Alhaitham was the first one to avert his gaze, pushing himself off the hardwood floor and getting to his feet. Fortunately, you had been blocked from the customer’s view by a tall bookshelf. Imagine getting caught like that! The thought made you feel even more embarrassed than you already did. What just happened?

     “Be honest, Y/N,” Alhaitham whispered. “Were you about to call me handsome earlier?” 

Oh, he remembered? You wanted nothing but to vanish immediately.

     “What if I did,” you huffed, crossing your arms. 

     “Hm,” the silver-haired male hummed. “Alright, back to work now.” 

He walked away, leaving you in your crouched position on the floor. Your pulse was still racing, screeching against your vessels as you blushed furiously. But you had to collect yourself. You forced your hands to start moving, taking books off the shelf and putting them into a cardboard box to make room for others. Bemused, you fulfilled your task without seeing Alhaitham once. You only heard his voice when he helped the customer at the cash register – was it just you, or was he really trying to sound a little more lively? It sounded adorable in your ears. 

The rest of your shift drew by slowly. A few customers walked in and out of the store, some actually buying something while others came only to browse. Either you or Alhaitham helped them at the counter, while the other remained focused on keeping the bookstore tidy and clean. You barely talked, which was strange, since you usually spent the time the store was void of customers together. It wasn’t long before you realized that he took occasional glances at you, but instead of looking away when you caught his stare, his turquoise gaze held yours. It made your heart flutter, and you couldn’t resist taking small peeks at him the entire time. 

And then it was time to close the store for the day. The sky outside was darkening, and by the time you helped the last customers, the store was wrapped in a cozy light that came from various dangling ceiling lamps. You logged out of the digital cash register and checked the lock on the cash drawer while Alhaitham closed the front entrance. You kept brushing past each other as you prepared to close the shop, but hardly ever someone spoke a word. It was kind of strange, but you weren’t all that surprised after today’s little event. You weren’t stupid, you had seen the blush on Alhaitham’s face – it was there just as much as it had been on your cheeks.

You had managed to fluster your bookstore crush. 

     “It’s getting dark,” the silver-haired male pointed out, which was the first thing he said to you after quite some time. “Want me to walk you home?”

It wasn’t entirely necessary, and you would most likely be fine on your own. It was only a short walk to get to your home, and the neighborhood you had to pass through had a good reputation. You weren’t afraid of anything happening, but were you going to turn down his offer? No, of course not. That would be stupid. He walked you home more often, and you enjoyed it. 

     “I’d appreciate that,” you nodded. “Thanks.” 

Together, you went to the back of the store, where you entered the employees only room. You collect your coat and other belongings, before leaving the store through the back door. The crisp outside air greeted you, and the sound of rush hour fell upon your eardrums. It was five pm, the time everyone went home. It was busy on the streets as you walked home, but no one spoke a word regardless. Why was it so quiet? Had today really left that deep of an impression on the both of you? You used to think Alhaitham was fairly unaffected by happenings such as today’s, but it seemed that he was rendered speechless by it just as much. 

Even after a solid six minutes of walking, the tall male spoke up. 

     “Y/N, I have a question,” he began. 

     “Shoot,” you said, your curiosity picked. You looked at him tentatively as you walked, unsure of what to expect. Would he talk about today? About what happened hidden behind that bookshelf, that moment that got rudely interrupted by the chime of the bell? You wanted him to address it, even though you had no idea what to say. You had acted on a whim.

     “Did you ever change my contact name?” came the hesitant question. 

You halted in your steps, looking at him with wide eyes. Out of all things, that was what he brought up? The answer would be embarrassing, because you never bothered to change his contact slot name – it was true, so why would you change it? On the other hand, you were convinced that Alhaitham was already well aware of your crush on him. Why else would he so boldly name himself that in your phone? You were stuck, contemplating what to do. Being honest was probably the best option here. Lying yourself out of situations wasn’t exactly your style. Alhaitham also stopped walking, and you stood there in the yellowish hue of a looming streetlight. 

     “I didn’t,” you admitted, studying the uneven pavement at your feet. 

     “May I ask why?” he asked. He looked at you, his face even as always. 

You sucked in a deep breath. Be honest, Y/N, you told yourself. You got this! It was only confessing what was already oh so obvious. Alhaitham had a keen eye, he probably saw right through you the moment you stepped into the bookstore for the very first time. There was absolutely no point in denying it. Your co-worker was bold, now it was time for you to be as well. You got this!

     “Because it’s the truth,” you bluntly replied. mimicking the tone he so often used. You flashed him a look to pinpoint his reaction, trying to come across nonchalantly. But your heart was racing, your cheeks were probably bright red at this point and you hoped that the streetlight didn’t fully expose your embarrassment. You wished you could hide how flustered you were, and you tried your hardest. 

     “I see,” Alhaitham said, his turquoise eyes on you and you only. “I’m asking you out, then.” 

     “R-Really?” you brought out, and your cheeks took an even intenser shade of red – was that even possible? “Why?” 

     “Isn’t that obvious, Y/N?” the silver-haired male sighed. “Are you that dense?” 

     “I’m not,” you sputtered. “I’m just… surprised.” 

Oh, you really were surprised. Though at the same time, you knew you could have seen it coming. The fact that he asked you to work with him in the bookstore, all the teasing he obviously did on purpose, the way he always made sure not to miss your reactions and how he always lingered close in the bookstore, seeming to observe you with solemn turquoise eyes, the stolen glances and longing gazes. And if those weren’t enough, there was today’s event – the first time you had seen him smile, the first time you ever saw him grow flustered. He was your bookstore crush, but you were also his. 

     “And I am nervous until you give me an answer,” Alhaitham deadpanned. “Being nervous is not like me at all.” 

     “Ah, I’m sorry,” you brought out quickly. “It’s a yes, of course.” 

For the second time since meeting him, a smile ghosted over his features. It awakened a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, and you felt like you were afloat on cloud nine. Your bookstore crush wasn’t one-sided, but rather something that was reciprocated. Not only that, but the mysterious guy you grew so infatuated with just asked you out; you could positively combust of happiness. God, how grateful you were for the little mistake he had made in the beginning, putting the sign on the door on open instead of closed. Nothing of this would’ve happened, had he put the sign in the right position right away. 

Who knew that such a simple, seemingly insignificant mistake, could lead to something so beautiful as possible love? You certainly didn’t, but you found yourself believing in strings of faith in that very moment. 

As if to seal a solemn promise, Alhaitham took your hand in his. Though your hand was cold from the chilly autumn evening air, his were still fairly warm. His fingers intertwined with yours as he brought your connected hands up, pressing a chaste kiss to the back of your hand. You couldn’t help the massive smile that spread your cheeks, and there was a skip in your step when he gently urged you to start walking again. You stole a quick glance at your crush, and the stoic mask had made way for an expression that was far more open, relaxed. You had unfolded a new side of the male, one you couldn’t wait to get to know better. 

You smiled fondly, one thing on your mind.

Your favorite book store really was a special place. 

[sohyuki]

ON THE EVE OF THE SABZERUZ FESTIVAL, a lone traveler arrives in Sumeru. His hands are rough, but his voice speaks nobility. His movements are calculated, but in his mind is chaos.  

Alone, yet haunted; empty-handed, yet burdened. 

The village thinks he is the end; you think he is a beginning.  

(OR, THE FIVE TIMES YOU ASK DILUC WHO HE IS, AND THE ONE TIME HE TELLS YOU.) 

MAIN PAIRING. diluc ragnvindr / reader 

CATEGORY/WARNINGS. written before sumeru’s release, angst, strangers to lovers, hurt/comfort, mentions of death,  storyline is set directly after crepus’ death (pre-game timeline), specific warnings to be added to their respective chapters. 

ADDITIONAL NOTES. this was written before the official release of sumeru (no concept art references or leaks) and is set in a fictional village. it is unlikely that i will change anything to fit canon. 

──  CHAPTERS. 

one. executioner 

two. heir

three. knight

four. son

five. brother

six. soul

──  TAGLIST.

@kazucafe @kazu-topia @tofuthoma @senjusbuddy @scaramew @starglitterz @kdaehara @kazewhara @scaraslover @reminiscenttwilight @tellerluna-stories @rqkuya @cut1es @irisxiel @dilucprotector @salamiwrites @elysiasbae @iridisceunt @astrxealis @koriyue @xiaophobic​ @lavynne

── AUTHOR’S NOTE. reblogs are very much appreciated! thank you for showing an interest <3 this series will be updated bi-weekly and will be tagged as #— FACETS. 

(please send an ask if you want to join the taglist)

[crab-instruments]

I got over my tagging fear, look at the thing I wrote (if you haven’t, pleased):

@rintheemolion @salamiwrites @lokigirlszendaya @jinxedleo @dionysuskid21 @awkwardwookie @welcometothepedroverse @xxglossii @techssexythighs @imalovernotahater @littlemisscare-all @seeley-marie23 @badbatch-simp24 @goddess-of-congeniality @sunipostsstuff

As The Dominoes Fall

Summary: You and your clone 'older brother' live life day to day. While 'Dom' is on a mission, you find a solider, a pale clone who is more machine than man, is in need of medical attention. Taking him in might change the course of your life. AKA what if Fives just ended up alive, pretending to be dead, and you find Echo?

Reader insert

Pairing: Fives x happiness, Echo x happiness

Rating and warning: General audience

Words: 2K

a/n: I guess this is a fix it of sorts? I just came up with the idea and wrote it in a few hours. I'm not really sure how I feel about it but here it is. I decided to not tag anyone since... it's just... a thing. Maybe one day I'll get better at one-shots? fuck if I know

You had promised Dom you wouldn’t take in any more random injured people.

The injured person was knocked out, away from the fighting. He had been thrown via an explosion.

As you looked at the pale solider, who seemed more machine than man, you decided Tuesdays were exempt from the promise.

Your little city next to an imperial refinery was a favorite battle ground. Many unsavory types hid here, bounty hunters, guild members, rebels, you name it.

Domino had been one of the lost soldiers you had picked up along the way and decided to stay with you. He was a clone but had been with you before the fall of the Republic. When you first started taking care of him, he went on and on about chips and a plot against the Jedi, but you didn’t really understand his nonsense. Now the focus was still on surviving and getting on under the Empire.

Your mother had been a medic in the run-down city until the Empire killed her for doing… what you were doing now and was the main reason Dom had stayed with you. The solider, you could tell due to the plastoid armor, had definitely seen better days. Your mother didn’t bother with sides, focusing on an oath to help those in need. Obviously, the Empire did not care about that. You took up her job, much to Dom’s dismay.

Domino wasn’t his real name, but he decided it would be best to not go by his real name. You argued with him, stating it really didn’t matter. He was a clone, looked like every one of his brothers, but you conceded after a while. Dom was, in essence, your older brother now and he had more battle experience than you, so it was best to just follow him.

And as his younger sibling, you decided it was your duty to make trouble.

The cabin you lived in was on the edge, hidden away. The soldier was heavy, but lighter than Dom. The problem was more that he was dead weight, no help as you carried his body with a hobble back to safety.

You worried your lip as you thought of an excuse if Dom came back early. He went out on a mission for credits and shouldn’t be back for a few hours or a day at most, so you had some time. Just… maybe not enough.

He just fell right in front of me! He looked like a sick puppy. I thought I could charge money for helping him (you weren’t going to do that). It was a Tuesday!

Eventually, you made it to your home. It was hard to get him onto a cot, but you eventually got there. After that, you went to work.

With a wet towel, you cleaned him up and took off the armor you could easily to assess the damage, name moved the comm to a hidden location so he couldn’t call for back up, if that’s what it came to. You found cuts and bruises, most likely the damage was in his head, and he just needed rest.

The armor looked familiar, but the colors were a dark charcoal and red. One of his arms was a scomp-link and you realized his legs were mechanical. Those would need some work, it seemed.

The man looked like a clone in only his face. Too pale, not enough muscle. If he was a clone, you assumed the peculiar look was due to the mechanical set up. He must have quite a story. The back of his head had a band on it, and you had never seen anything like that before, though really, you had never seen anyone like him before. You did notice a small cut on the right side of his head, similar to what Dom had showed you when you first met.

You weren’t sure but if he was a clone, Dom would never let it go. You internally groaned.

No good deed goes unpunished.

It was a bit after patching him up and you started working on the damage on his legs that he started to wake up.

“Don’t move too much,” You said in a calm, quiet voice, “if you move too much you’ll make me mess up the soldering.”

He went still. “Where am I?” You briefly looked up from your work to make eye contact with him.

“Safe, if you don’t do anything stupid.” You wanted to keep control of the situation, so you tried to be assertive. “Do you remember what happened?”

“I was running towards the refinery, saw some bucket heads, heard Hunter—” At that he sat up. Tried to. You hissed as your work was interrupted and he whimpered at the pain he felt. “Where’s Hunter? The rest of the Batch?”

You tried to sympathize, really, but was Hunter the one trying to fix his legs right now? “I don’t know, I found you alone and decided to try and patch you up out of the goodness of my heart. But if you would rather me stop and drag you back there—”

“No, I’m sorry. Thank you. Why are you helping me?” His light caramel lit up with curiosity.

“My mom would take in strays that needed help. Habit I picked up, much to the consternation of…” You trailed off as you went back to work. “Oh, you’re probably hungry. Sorry, I may have learned how to be a medic, but I prefer to tinker.” You wiped your hands before making your way to get something to eat. The man had tried to say something, but you were a force that could not be stopped.

As you attempted to throw something together, the soldier spoke up. “What is your name? Or something I could call you.”

“(Y/N) is fine. Do you have a name? Or… number?” You weren’t looking at him, but you could tell he went ridged at the comment.

“… Echo.”

The sound of shattered ceramics filled the air. When you looked down, you saw the pieces of plates you had dropped the plates in your hands, luckily without food. For a moment, you just stared at the ground.

“Is something wrong?” Your brain had stopped working, rebooting. That word, as a name, was something you heard often. But it wasn’t possible. Echo, a clone named Echo.

“That can’t be your name,” you mumbled.

“What?”

You cleared your throat and tried to regain some composure. “I mean… How did… how did you get that name?”

“When I was a cadet, I would repeat orders and the name stuck… Do you need help?”

“I’m fine! Totally fine. Plates just… my hands… slipped… I always hated those plates, anyway.” You cleaned up the mess as quickly as possible and brought the food over to the man who called himself Echo. He certainly seemed skeptical of you now, but you were more suspicious of him.

As you went back to working on his legs, you decided to try and get more information, to confirm the wild theories running around in your head. “Your armor isn’t standard regulation Empire armor, looks older than that.” He didn’t respond and you decided to push your luck. “Doesn’t matter to me, I’m not a snitch. I like to help people and get to know them a little better.”

Echo sighed. “Republic armor.”

You hummed. “The colors… what was your squad?”

“Clone Force 99. Also known as the Bad Batch.” He huffed a laugh.

A few minutes passed before you tried to continue. “Not to pry but were you always…”

“Half-droid? No. It is what landed me with the Bad Batch. They were a part of the crew that brought me back from being a toy of the Separatists. I joined them after, wouldn’t really fit in with the rest. Especially since…” He shook his head and you almost screamed at him. Echo was clearly about to say something, drop the vital information you needed to confirm everything.

A beep from your comm across the room snapped you out of your focus. You put down your tools and walked over to answer, giving Echo small ‘excuse me’ before entering the other room.

“Ad'ika, I’m done and on my way back, do you need any supplies from off world?”

“N-no.”

“Is something wrong?”

You thought about it. “Uhh, I just want you to remember that it’s Tuesday before I say anything else.”

“What does Tuesday have to do with… you didn’t.”

“There was a bad battle and he just… he was right there… but that’s only half the problem.”

“Half?” Dom sounded like he was going to lose his mind, which was normal during a conversation with you.

“Maybe a quarter of the problem?”

“That’s worse! You understand how that’s worse, right? Are you in danger?”

“N-no, I can handle myself. Just more of a… It might be better if you came straight here? Or… maybe if you didn’t. I don’t know.” You chewed on the side of your cheek.

“I’ll be there in a few hours.” He cut out after that. You were so screwed.

Echo was in the same place, plate cleaned but eyes closed in pain. You couldn’t help the tremble in your hands as you went to take the plate. It didn’t stop when you returned to finish up his leg.

“Are you okay?” When you met his eyes, you almost started crying.

“I think… I may have set something in motion that I can’t fully comprehend the consequences of yet.”

“It has to do with the person who commed, doesn’t it? Are you in trouble? I can—”

You huffed a laugh. He was really like Domino, so he might just be…

“Um, I’ll be fine. You’ll be fine. Everyone will be fine… if you are who you say you are. Could I ask you a few more questions?”

Echo looked unconvinced. “It would be the least I could do.”

“I’ve heard clones would get tattoos or decorate their armor to stand apart from each other. What did you do?”

He thought about it a moment before answering. “A handprint. It was when I was still a rookie. Captain R… A captain had blue eel’s blood on his hand and wiped it on my armor. I decided to keep the print. It ended up being the same color as the legion I joined after with Fives.”

You ended up choking on some air for a moment. “Sorry, I just… Can you test your leg? I think I fixed the problem.” He moved the leg in question and gave an affirmative.

Before anything else could be said, you heard Dom land his ship outside. Thinking quickly, you ran to your desk and pulled out a tiny pieces of paper before running to the door.

“Stay here. I just need to…” You couldn’t finish due to not actually knowing what you needed to do so you headed out and shut the door.

When he was angry, Dom looked taller and scarier. His hood didn’t help.

“Ad'ika, let me—” he stopped when you held out the piece of paper in front of him. “Really? You’re using the ‘Get Out of Jail Free’ card on this?” The little colored paper was something the two of you had picked up at a flea market as a joke but decided to pass it back in forth when one of you messed up. It had seen its fair share of use.

As you held firm, he sighed and snatched the paper from you. “Let’s hear it.”

“Okay, the injured man… is a soldier. A clone—Ah ah ah, the card.” Dom wanted to burst but held it in, otherwise he would have to give back the card. “He has a scar, like yours. His armor is also Republic. He didn’t say he wasn’t with the Empire but I don’t think he is.” You took a breath. “He also will look different than you remember.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“He has a few different limbs and lost a bit of color but… he’s there, I think.”

Before he could say anything else, you led him through the door. The two of them made eye contact and did not move.

To give them a push, you took of Dom’s hood, making sure to brush back his much longer hair so the tattoo was visible.

“Fives?”

“Echo?”

The two met in the middle of the room and embraced.

In an instant, the Domino Twins had been reunited.

[samsalami66]

Don't Go Kicking My Heart

Another part of the soccer au, it is time for fluff and trauma! Enjoy!!

Read on ao3!

Today was the first day of a new era. A new age of football.

The world of sports would remember this day. 

The day Morpheus Ateleios, winner of the European Golden Shoe, first played for Fiddler’s Green, the highest ranking football club in all of Europe. 

Or, well, the day he first trained with them. His first match was still far off, the next season only started in a few months after all, but today was his first day as a part of the team. He would face the players for the first time not on opposite sides of a field, but as a teammate. 

Morpheus was about to be sick, standing in front of these unfamiliar training facilities in the middle of London, miles away from Wych Cross and Roderick’s now cold and dead body. The distance wasn’t enough. No distance could make up for the ache he still felt in his bones, in his muscles, for the bruises slowly healing on his back and chest. 

But thinking about the ghost of Roderick Burgess still being imprinted on his skin was not what really got to Morpheus’ stomach. 

No, it was the fact that he would face Robert Gadling for the first time as a colleague. A part of the team. 

Gadling was… well, to say Morpheus and him did not get along would probably be an understatement. They had a bit of a turbulent history. 

Said history might have involved red cards for both of them during their latest match, following a disagreement they had decided to solve with fists rather than words. 

It hadn’t been one of his proudest moments. 

There was just something about Gadling, something that set him off in the worst way possible. Morpheus wasn’t a pleasant person to be around, he’d admit, but Gadling would stare at him with such distaste, it felt entirely unwarranted. Jessamy would say it was jealousy, because Morpheus was clearly the better player between the two of them. But who knew, perhaps the Fiddlers’ star player was simply a homophobic asshole, like so many others in this sport. Maybe Roderick had a point when he said that nobody would want to play with him or share a locker room if they knew about him, about his fantasies. 

Perhaps he had been right to announce them to the world.

But god, was he really about to walk into a locker room full of people who would rather have him dead than anywhere near them? Would they refuse to undress before him, just like the Riggers had done? And what would Gadling do to him in the privacy of a training facility, where there was no referee to step between them, no cameras pointed in their direction? 

Fuck, all of this had been a terrible idea. He should leave, should tell Gilbert that he simply couldn’t play for this club, that he would have to find another player, that there was simply too much antagony and hatred and-

“You alright there, mate?” A voice, all too familiar, sounded from behind him. Morpheus couldn’t help the yelp that escaped his lips at the sudden appearance of Robert Gadling right in his personal space. He had been too caught up in his thoughts and didn’t even notice that the other man had approached him. It took every ounce of self-control Morpheus possessed to school his face back into something less terrified as he turned towards his old rival. 

“Why do you care?” He replied, venom dripping from his words. All it earned him was a raised eyebrow. 

“Well, you look like you’re walking to your death sentence. Mind, I don’t actually know what you’re doing here, of all places, but I’m pretty sure the death penalty was abolished in 1969 over here in the UK.” Robert Gadling looked thoughtful for a moment, one hand coming up to scratch at his beard, and Morpheus was left to stare at him. None of this answered his question. “Unless you committed treason of course, the death penalty for that was abolished in 1998 I think. Not that it matters much, both are in the past now, but the more you know!”

There was a moment of silence after Gadling stopped talking, one in which Morpheus contemplated if he should pinch himself for the unlikely reason that this was all a dream. Though surely not even his brain could come up with such impossible scenarios all on its own. After all, he knew nothing about English history. 

Perhaps if he didn’t answer, the other man would leave. 

But no such luck. Robert Gadling was not fazed by his silence. 

“Not a fan of history, eh? Fair enough, I guess it’s not everyone’s cuppa tea.” Gadling winked at him then, and Morpheus decided that perhaps pinching himself wasn’t the worst idea after all. A stab of pain shot up his arm, but, again, no luck. This really was no elaborate nightmare. Gadling was talking to him. “How about a joke, then? Something to wipe that mopey look off your face?”

He did not wait for Morpheus’ answer. He would not have gotten one anyway, but it was still rude. 

“Why’s Cinderella bad at football?” Morpheus was dreading the answer to this question more than he had dreaded entering the facilities in the first place. Robert Gadling waited for a moment, if for dramatics or simply to torture him, Morpheus didn’t know.

“Because she lost her shoe and ran away from the ball!” 

It was an awful joke. Really, it might be in the top ten of the worst jokes Morpheus had ever heard. And yet, he felt the familiar feeling of laughter bubbling up from deep within him, a sort of hysteria he simply couldn’t control, couldn’t stop as it was about to simply burst from his chest. 

Perhaps it was the whole situation that made him hysterical, the stress of the past few days that came crashing down on him that had sent him into delirium. Or, maybe, he simply wasn’t very sane to begin with.

Morpheus tried desperately to clasp a hand over his mouth in order to stop the horrible noise from escaping his lips, but it was a futile attempt. Waves of laughter shook his body and the sound, only slightly muffled by his hand, spilled into the air between him and Robert Gadling. 

Morpheus knew that his laugh was horrible. Back at school people had held their ears whenever he laughed, much later people had simply asked him to stop whenever he couldn’t catch himself in time. Roderick had had the cane. But Gadling did not do any of those things. 

Gadling was simply… looking. He looked… amused? Fond, perhaps? Morpheus couldn’t really see through the tears that were building in his eyes as he tried to calm down. But he had to be imagining things, nobody had ever looked fond when confronted with his joy. And Gadling… Gadling hated him.

Didn’t he? 

“Looked like you needed that.” he said, tone warm, and Morpheus wasn’t too sure about it anymore. “Come on, I’ll bring you wherever you need to go. And call me Hob, yeah? My friends usually do.”

Robert Gadling clapped a hand on his shoulder, and Morpheus had never felt so unsteady on his feet or in his world-view. 

It was minutes later that the two of them entered the training facilities of Fiddler’s Green, Gadling chattering away at Morpheus’ side as if they were old friends. He talked about anything and everything, topics seemingly unrelated to one another, though somehow Morpheus managed to keep up with the jumps in his stories. How he went from a camping trip the team went on last month to when he went fishing with his father when he was younger, to the anatomy of grasshoppers they had presumably used for fishing, and the physical differences between grasshoppers and crickets. 

It was weirdly familiar, so similar to how his own brain worked. Though he could never verbalise his thoughts like this, without overthinking every single word. Gadling didn’t particularly seem to care if he could keep up, just kept talking and gesturing as they walked. 

It was… calming. Morpheus found himself hoping that he didn’t stop any time soon. 

But, of course, they had a destination. And once they reached it, Gadling slowly came to a stop in his rambling. Before them were the doors to the locker rooms, through which Morpheus heard voices, broken up by laughter, louder than he had ever experienced a locker room to be at Fawney Rig. 

The Riggers hadn’t talked much to one another. Certainly hadn’t laughed together.

“Right, Gilbert should be with the other guys. Do you want me to get him or come inside?”

Considerate. Morpheus wished he didn’t have to go into this room. But there was no point, if he was supposed to work and play with these men in the future. 

“I would come in, if you don’t mind.” 

God, Morpheus hated how small his voice sounded. Gadling must be aware of what he was actually asking. The question Would you allow someone like me into your changing rooms? hidden somewhere between the lines. But the other man simply raised an eyebrow at him, smiled fondly and held the door open for him. 

“I wouldn’t have asked if I did.”

Morpheus remembered very clearly how the Riggers had once asked him to come inside the locker rooms after Roderick had outed him, just to close and lock the door in his face. 

It had been three years since he last stepped foot into a shared locker room. And Robert Gadling invited him, his rival, inside with a smile. 

Morpheus hoped the tears stinging in his eyes weren’t too obvious.

As they entered, member after member turned to look at them with an air of surprise and curiosity. One of them, blond, American, and with a devastatingly handsome smile, whistled and waggled his eyebrows in Gadling’s direction. 

“Did you finally have the guts to talk to Mister Dreamy without starting a fight, Robbie?”

When Morpheus turned to look at the other man, he could see that his tanned skin turned red around his cheeks, all the way up to his ears. Huh, Morpheus hadn’t known that Gadling felt embarrassment over their common disagreements on the field. He had always seemed very confident in his anger.

“Shut it, Cori. He’s here to talk to Gilbert.”

Just as Gadling said it, the man in question looked up from some papers he had been studying, with a smile spreading over his face. “Oh, Mister Ateleios!” Gilbert stood quickly to offer him his hand, which Morpheus took without much hesitation. The coach of Fiddler’s Green was a homely man, soft and welcoming in every way Roderick hadn’t been. “It’s wonderful to have you, son, just wonderful! I’m glad to see you’ve found your way just fine.” 

Morpheus couldn’t remember when someone had last called him son. Perhaps when he had last seen his parents… some six-odd years ago. Though, honestly, his father had stopped calling him son long before that. It made a part deep within him ache to hear it again, from a stranger nonetheless. But he couldn’t get emotional in front of all these people, not now, so he forced a smile and a nod, and hoped his voice didn’t break when he answered. 

“Yes, Mister Gadling was kind enough to lead the way. I am honoured to be here.”

The elder man patted his shoulder, fatherly, and Morpheus was a hair’s breadth away from breaking down. 

“Glad Robert could make himself useful at least, when he’s already never on time.” Gadling pouted at that, but didn’t otherwise react. Such a statement from Roderick would have had the entire room cowering in fear. But these men weren’t afraid. It was strange, but at the same time filled Morpheus with hope that this perhaps wasn’t a huge mistake. “And now that you two are here as well, it’s time for the big announcement, wouldn’t you say?”

Gilbert hadn’t warned the team of him? With all their history? Either the man had incredible trust in his men or he didn’t care much about Morpheus’ physical well-being.

Morpheus was about to be sick after all. 

“What’s the announcement, boss?” a raven-haired man asked from their right, curiosity in his voice. Or was it mistrust?

“Well, boys, Mister Ateleios here approached me a few weeks ago, asking to become a part of the team. And I signed him on, of course. He will take Paul’s place, since his spot opened up with the end of last season.” 

Morpheus closed his eyes, preparing himself for protest, for judgement, for insults. All of it would be reasonable, and he wasn’t stupid enough to hope for a better reaction. He had landed Gadling in hospital once, for Christ’s sake. He would be lucky if nobody resorted to violence in the face of what must feel like betrayal from their coach-

“Oh fuck yeah, we will kick ass this season with Morpheus on our team!”

Gadling’s excited voice cut through the silence like a knife through butter, and suddenly the whole room erupted into cheers. Hands found his shoulders and back, patting them with enthusiasm as Morpheus blinked his eyes open in surprise. The men were smiling at him, not a hint of malevolence in any of their faces. Robert Gadling was practically vibrating with excitement, his eyes shining like those of a child at Christmas. Nobody had ever looked at Morpheus like that, like his presence was a thing to look forward to. 

It would change, surely. They were happy to have his skills on their time, were looking forward to a successful season. That was all. 

It would change. 

Morpheus was sure of it. 

- - - 

The next day, Morpheus was the first ready for training. He was early, really. Dreadfully early. When Roderick said training started at eight, he had expected the team to show up at six at the latest. But apparently the Fiddlers were less inclined to begin a day so early. 

No matter, a few extra hours would not do him any harm. 

He could warm up already, set up a few exercises. Perhaps it would reflect on his conviction to be a valuable player for the team, so they would perhaps forgive his lack of character. 

It was as good a plan as ever. 

He started off with stretching his legs and feet, before moving onto his arms and neck. It was calming, to spend some minutes in tranquil silence, simply feeling the muscles in his body stretch and loosen for the day ahead. Just as he was about to start his last set of stretches, a voice came from the side of the field, which almost caused him to strain his neck with how fast he turned around to look at the source. 

Of course, it was Gadling. 

“Did you hear about the team whose back four was only two fullbacks?”

That. Didn’t make any sense. What was that supposed to mean? Had he been supposed to do preparations for today’s training? Research the teams they would be playing? Gods, if he had already missed such a vital task on his second day they would never tolerate him, they would put him on the bench and find a different player, they-

“Apparently they're double stuffed.”

It was another joke. A pun. A horrible, terrible, awful pun. 

Morpheus couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him, half-delirious, his heart beating so fast in his chest he felt a bit faint. 

He hadn’t misstepped. No reason for punishment. He was okay. 

Except that he was laughing, freely, before Robert Gadling. 

He really had to get a grip on himself. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep the laughter in, couldn’t stop, not even when tears were running down his cheeks and his stomach felt like he had done a hundred situps. 

Gadling was smiling when he came closer, as he seemed to do so very often since they had met in front of the facility. He sat down next to him, mirroring his current position, and Morpheus couldn’t help but smile back at him as they began to stretch together, Gadling once again regaling him with stories and anecdotes and seemingly random facts. 

It was nice. 

Morpheus had absolutely no idea how to deal with it. But he decided to simply accept it for what it was. 

- - - 

On Saturdays, the Fiddlers met for drinks. 

It was an unspoken rule, a tradition, and Morpheus had been invited during that first week of training with the team. Therefore, it was important to leave a positive impression. 

He arrived, dressed in a tux and carrying a bottle of wine, at the address Gadling had sent him. It was… not a real restaurant, nor another place he recognised. It didn’t seem to be a place where any of the other players lived either. The sign on the front of the building read The New Inn and from inside Morpheus could hear the same laughter and joy he had come to associate with the locker rooms of Fiddler’s Green. 

They were a loud bunch, almost irritatingly so, if it weren’t for the warmth their company provided. Spending time with them was easier than it had ever been with the Riggers. 

Upon entering Morpheus was greeted with cheers and whistles, and he realised very quickly that he was immensely overdressed. The team sat around a large table towards the side of the room, dressed in jeans, t-shirts and hoodies (except Ken and Cori, those two technically wore shirts, though Morpheus was not entirely sure that they could really qualify as such with how little they were covering.). Gadling sported a fading band-tee about two sizes too large and sweat-pants.

Gods above, Morpheus would stick out like a sore thumb. Why had nobody told him about the dress-code?

“Looking good, Dreamy!” Cori called over the cheers, a grin on his face. “Dress to impress! Robbie will look dreadfully underdressed next to you.”

The man in question kicked Cori underneath the table. 

“Ow! What, it’s not my fault you roll from your couch upstairs right down to drinks night!” 

The tips of Gadling’s ears turned red at the other man’s words, and Morpheus almost felt the need to defend him. After all, it was his being overdressed, not Gadling being undressed, that was the faux-pas here. 

But in the spirit of good impressions Morpheus simply sat down on the free chair next to Gadling and placed the bottle of wine on the table. It was immediately nicked by Mervyn, an appreciative whistle leaving his lips as he read the label. “Good stuff, Dreamy. Cheers!”

That nickname, twice already this evening. Morpheus wasn’t entirely sure if it existed to make fun of him or was simply a thing these people did. It had been there since day one, and apparently the team wasn’t about to stop anytime soon. It… did not bother Morpheus too much. He had never had a nickname. Roderick had only ever called him Morpheus, and he had only ever said it with hatred, disappointment or cold detachment. Never with humour, joy or fondness, had never used it to tease him. 

“Why did the winger miss the match?”

Gadling’s voice, quiet and right next to his ear, quickly pulled Morpheus out of his thoughts. It was a question. Had he missed a part of the conversation? Was he supposed to answer? Or, no, it wasn’t another one, was it…?

“He was busy chasing ball.” 

Oh, fuck, it was another one of Gadling’s horrible, god-awful puns. That was it. Proof that Gadling hated him, had just been nice to him to gain some twisted sort of amusement. Morpheus knew the laughter was coming this time, knew he was helpless against it bubbling up in his throat. He didn’t want to face the whole team as they were subjected to his laugh. Surely they would tell him to stop, to keep quiet, to leave the inn, laugh at him. 

But there was no helping it. With his face hidden behind his hands, Morpheus allowed the sound to spill over and mix with the laughter around them. Seconds passed by, and the noise around him did not stop. Conversations continued, drinks were drunk, and nobody seemed to react at all. 

Ever so slowly, Morpheus dared to raise the hands from his face and to peek into the group of people around him. 

Nobody was batting an eye. 

Stunned, and more than a little confused, Morpheus let his hands drop to his lap. Beside him, Gadling was nursing his beer, almost as if he hadn’t just tried to embarrass him in front of the entire team. Or… perhaps he really hadn’t tried to. Nobody was laughing at him after all. Nobody was shouting at him to keep quiet or to go outside. 

Almost as if it were okay for him to just… be. 

- - - 

About a month later, Morpheus sat in his apartment on his day off. A Sunday. The first of the month. 

It was a quiet day, warm and sunny and the only sounds were the birds chirping outside.

That was, until someone decided it would be a brilliant idea to abuse his doorbell. Probably some reporter, or an obnoxious fan. They would get bored soon. Very soon. 

Ten minutes later, the doorbell was still ringing and Morpheus had had enough. 

“Gamo to kerato sou. People nowadays have zero respect for privacy.”

Morpheus was ready to yell at whoever was standing behind the door, scare them off so they would never show their face here ever again. 

But behind the door was Gadling. And Cori. And Matthew and Mervyn and John and Ken and… even Gilbert was there. Gadling was holding a cake in his hands. Self-made, by the looks of it. 

The frosting read Happy One Month Anniversary!

Morpheus was about to cry. 

He couldn’t help it. He rushed forward, right into the arms of Robert Gadling. Because this must have been his idea, insufferable, incredible man that he was. Considerate. God, he was always so considerate. Cheering him up with stupid puns every single day, forcing him to relax, to trust, to breathe, to be. 

Forcing Morpheus to enjoy his company. Seek it out even. He didn’t do hugs. And yet, here he was. 

“Thank you, Hob.” he whispered, so only Hob could hear. The arms around him tightened, and the other man pressed his cheek against his own. 

“Anytime, Dream.”

[jaycypressus]

𝐥𝗼𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝗼𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫 | 𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝗺 𝐬𝗺𝐚𝐮

𝐈𝐗- 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐒

IMPORTANT!! Please follow my new account at @jayvolans !! Once I finish posting the drafts from here, I will no longer be active on this account, because it’s acting up :((

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝗼𝐮𝐬❧ 𝗺𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭❧ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭❧

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓❧

@ruisann @imma-too-many-fandoms @coffeecasket @kokxm1 @lunastarjay @dksfl920 @chiisananingen @itonashi @pidgey-ontheloose @ceylestia @jinxnotpowder @natsum-s @xirthia @adorablezhui @sunsethw4 @deartoru @baelloraa @nambii @simplyxsinned @aixaingela @whipped-for-fictionals @keithsaccount @blayxe @nekogakuro @richxelle @rifran @flutterawayx @nolvngerhvman @celestair @klementime @apinu @http-mewchuu @phoenix-eclipses @court-jester-stuff @flqwerdoll @dustofthedailylife @albedos-world @taoluv @salamiwrites

[jayvolans]

𝐥𝗼𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝗼𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐢𝐫 | 𝐚𝐥𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐚𝗺 𝐬𝗺𝐚𝐮

𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝗼𝐮𝐬❧ 𝗺𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭❧ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭❧

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓❧

@ruisann @imma-too-many-fandoms @coffeecasket @kokxm1 @lunastarjay @dksfl920 @chiisananingen @itonashi @pidgey-ontheloose @ceylestia @jinxnotpowder @natsum-s @xirthia @adorablezhui @sunsethw4 @deartoru @baelloraa @nambii @simplyxsinned @aixaingela @whipped-for-fictionals @keithsaccount @blayxe @nekogakuro @richxelle @rifran @flutterawayx @nolvngerhvman @celestair @klementime @apinu @http-mewchuu @phoenix-eclipses @court-jester-stuff @dustofthedailylife @albedos-world @taoluv @salamiwrites @imkaaayy @turtl3-warr1or @zombieb1t3 @nachotrash @xiaossocksniffer @catgirlwannabe @duckyyyx @spilloverlove @thenightsflower @feverish-dove @evilenchantresss

[genshinology]

MINUS ONE — chapter 03 : our semester project

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SUMMARY. placing second in your year every single time can be tiresome, as childe will always snatch the first place and you will always be behind him. you hate his right answers and the winning smirk he directs at you whenever he gets a perfect score, while you, more often than not, end up with a minus one from his perfect 100. stalking his youtube channel is not exactly an ideal plan to start your mission of obtaining the #1 spot, but hey, apparently, childe gives out great content for super motivated students like so you couldn't really blame yourself for that.

(or, alternatively, you find yourself attracted to him the more you admire his channel from afar. but wait, hold up, aren't you supposed to be his academic rival?! it is even worse when you need to interview childe for the teyvat university's monthly issue too.)

🏷️ : @ajaxstar @sussydemon @kailluaken @covenantofthedeep @dawndelion-winery @miitchiji @lacy-lady @cocoxcola @nakurak @raideneiari @soleillunne @kunikuzushiit @salamiwrites @kitsuvil @liewastooshort @celestair @useless-potatho @cridtiins @wrrapedroundmyfingerlikearing @lady-elodie @anniejourn @goddessofself @tatiratty @shirmxie @dylthedumbass @zannivrs @lowotad @kittycasie @ani-st @izzyandviolins @b0bafl0wer @dearxiiao @blov3d @spiriteddreams @ruicantread @emmie5168 @baelloraa @dee-zbignuts @richxelle @shrslair @arizzu @sketcheeee (usernames in bold are the ones that couldn't be tagged.)

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[forsworned]

a mutually arranged attachment. (yoriichi tsugikuni x reader)

warning(s). mentionings of nudity, s3xual situations, profanity, violence

word count. 9.2k

categories. f/m

relationships. modern college student au! yoriichi tsugikuni x f!reader

characters. yoriichi tsugikuni, shinobu kocho , mitsuri kanroji

author’s note. HERE YALL FUCKIN GO BRO I HOPE YOU ENJOY THIS FUCKIN CHAPTER IT TOOK MY WHOLE SOUL TO WRITE IT AND YES THE ART IN THIS CHAPTER IS ALWAYS DONE BY ME LMK WHAT YALL THINK!!

chapters » one two three four five six seven eight nine ten

taglist: @scoven @salamiwrites @brightymir @stxrryemxlys @glrlnextdoor @coconois

『♡』 chapter eleven: vulnerability

“...and so as you can see westernization is a powerful force that is slowly deteriorating cultures across the world…”

You seemed to be in and out of the presentation that you and Yoriichi were currently giving because how could you focus on that? You had an endless list of things that you were not so eager to let your friends know and you had a meeting with Tengen that you were also less than exhilarated to have. Yoriichi’s mom was cheating on his dad with his own brother and you were set to get married to Yoriichi God knows when. Right, right, the world was crumbling under your feet…

You shook your head as the classroom began to clap.

“[name], did you not think your presentation was worthy enough?” Professor Garrison inquired.

“Huh?” You pulled yourself out of your stupor as you gazed from your professor to the class to the presentation on the projector to Yoriichi.

Yoriichi softly chuckled at your befuddled expression and you blinked several times before you could even think up an answer.

“No, I–I think the presentation was great.”

“Really? What did you like the most about it?” Professor Garrison asked, obviously trying to put you on the spot for his own enjoyment. The sadist.

“Uh,” You glanced over at the slide that was still up. “The references.”

The class laughed in response and Professor Garrison shook his head and smiled. “Alright, get back to your seats.”

“References?” Yoriichi teased.

“Shut up.” You grumbled, embarrassed by your own words.

He couldn’t keep the smile off of his face as scribbled into his notebook as the rest of the groups or pairs presented to the class. You peeped over at what he had been doing the entire class thinking that like the covert nerd he was, he was taking notes but instead he seemed to be drawing something. Upon further inspection, you noticed that it was not just any mindless drawing or doodle of stars and geometric figures but a small little portrait of the both of you.

You leaned a little further to look closer at what it was exactly and your eyes widened at the sight of it. It was literally a drawing of the both of you doing the dirty, you being in reverse cowgirl as one hand was pulling your hair and the other was on your ass.

You soon found yourself scrambling to balance yourself back onto your chair, but before you could hit the floor with a painful and audible thud Yoriichi had caught your arm and helped you back into your seat. His maroon gaze was fixated on you as he held onto your shoulders to make sure that you were sturdy before letting go.

“Are you okay?” He asked. His expression was serious as hell, but knew damn well he was holding it in only long enough so that he didn’t burst into laughter in front of the whole class.

“Yes.” You breathed out still shaken from how you literally almost fell face first into his crotch and then onto the ground.

“Is everything okay, [name]?” Professor Garrison looked between the both of you as he put his glasses back on.

The classroom was quiet as they gawked at you both.

“Y-yeah I’m fine.” You gave the group who was presenting an apologetic look. “Sorry, guys.”

Professor Garrison gave you one last look before gathering the classroom’s attention back to the presenting group. “Alright, continue guys.”

You hadn’t realized that your heart was thrumming against your chest as you put a hand over your breast pocket.

“They’re definitely fucking.” You heard someone whisper from the back and that made you grit your teeth.

What the fuck do they know? I mean it was technically true, but what the fuck did they know?

“You dropped this.” Yoriichi murmured as he handed you a piece of paper that was not yours and you quietly thanked him.

You noticed that he was biting his lip to hide the smile that was on his face. You raised your brow at him before you turned the piece of paper over. It was the small drawing that he was working on earlier with a small note scribbled onto it:

“I’m assuming that’s your favorite position?”

You immediately flipped the paper back on the opposite side as you felt your whole face warm and your heart start to race again. Yoriichi was hiding a grin with the back of his hand as he tried not to laugh at your flustered expression. Sometimes you were way too easy to get riled up, but he liked that a lot about you. He wanted to be the only one who could do that to you among other things.

You had noticed a lot of subtle and not so subtle changes about Yoriichi. First and foremost, his behavior towards you. Not just in private, but in public where wandering eyes and hushed whispers were always lingering around you. It seemed as if he wanted it to be made known that you were his, but not in such a blatant way. You liked that, but it was also frustrating that he was being a little punk about it.

You sighed as you slumped into your chair waiting for your heart rate to slow down as you tuned out the rest of the presentations for the rest of the class. You felt overwhelmed with the amount of things on your plate but could you really complain? Everything seemed to have a bright side to it, well, despite you having a sign nailed to your head that said, “I’m marrying the Heir to the Hanafuda Yakuza Clan! Please kidnap me and use me as ransom!!”.

Yeah, remember when you literally almost got kidnapped by a rival yakuza member in your own apartment and then Yoriichi had to come kick their ass and his uncle collected them and now you live with Yoriichi as a result? Yeah, you almost had forgotten that that was the whole reason you were here again by his side as his soon-to-be forever partner and being spoiled to the max with endless luxuries. Your mind seemed to wander past the part where you were a target and back to the night that you and Yoriichi had your whole moment you were practically on your knees for. Well, you weren’t the one on your knees, technically he was, but that's besides the point.

You wondered how many other women he’s been with before you, because that did not come from just watching a few videos off PornHub. That all very much came with experience and with that experience came your own curiosity. Now, you couldn’t help but feel jealous that he probably had multiple other partners besides you and it’s not like you were a virgin yourself , but still!

You huffed to yourself as you crossed your arms with a disgruntled look on your face. Unbeknownst to you, Yoriichi seemed to take a mental note of addressing it after class was over and confront you about it.

***

“How annoying…” You muttered to yourself as you gathered your belongings and shoved them into your bag as you walked out without even engaging in conversation with Yoriichi.

You were far too immersed into your thoughts as you walked out of the classroom with your arms folded and grumbling about all sorts of things that he couldn’t make out.

“...[name]...[name]...!”

You swung your whole body to glare at him with annoyance. “What?”

“Are you okay?” His expression looked concerned, but then it began to contort into something resembling mischief. “Are you mad at me?”

You raised a brow at him not understanding what he was talking about, but then another moment passed before you recalled the earlier event and you felt your face become inflamed at the thought of it.

“Shut up.” You mumbled as you turned back around and began to make your way out of the building, but he caught you by the waist and brought you flush against him.

Your heart thumped against your chest as you felt your breath catch in your throat. He loved the way your eyes widened at the sight of him and how you could clearly feel your heart thud faster with every beat.

“...Definitely fucking…” You heard one of your classmates mutter to the other one before they laughed.

You shot them a dirty look and they quickly hurried off to where it was they intended to go before you pushed him off of you.

“H-hey!” He chuckled as he gently tugged you back to him again.

This time you did not retreat, but you were definitely not showing any affection back to him.

“Was it what they said?”

You ignored him while you glanced out the window and he tried to veer himself into your view each time you looked away.

“Tell me.”

No response. Yoriichi didn’t take well to the silent treatment and he had his ways of making you talk. His fingers urged your chin to look at him and he was damned sexy. It was really irritating how he could use up all his charm on you and you never turned him down.

“Let go.” You tried to brush him off, but he was not taking no for an answer.

Again, he made you face him with his calloused fingers under your chin. “Tell me what’s wrong, [name].”

“Nothing.”

Despite all his qualities of not being able to withstand silent treatments, he was patient as hell especially with you. He would always be patient and understanding of you, even if it stressed him out like hell.

“Please?”

It was so pretty the way he said it.

Please?

It echoed in your head and it made you melt. And by the looks of it he knew he had you.

“How many women have you been with?”

His maroon eyes broadened with amusement as he gazed down at you and tilted his head. A boyish smile graced his handsome features. He would never lie to you, but he absolutely loved toying with you.

“Why?”

You knitted your eyebrows in vexation. “Why? Why are you answering my question with a question?”

“Well, it’s a bit of a random question. I’m just wondering why you suddenly asked it.”

You gave him a “are you fucking kidding me right now?” look, as you crossed your arms and then shook your head. “Just forget I asked.”

“No, tell me.” His arms were around your waist again as he leaned into you and you leaned away.

He chuckled at you. “I’m serious. I’ll tell you if you tell me why.”

You suddenly felt hot at having to explain why you were thinking about that, but dammit he started it first!

“Because…” You averted your gaze and he was in face again. His warm breath fanned against your lips and you were getting more embarrassed than annoyed at this point.

“Because…?” He drawed out.

But before you could answer, your stomach growled loudly in response. You put a hand over your belly and frowned, but then an idea sprouted into your head. “I’ll tell you if you feed me.”

The smile never left his face as he caressed your cheek. “Done.”

And of course you two were on your way to the place where it all started. Hanafuda Cafe.

Did you ever bother actually looking up at the sign of the cafe? Nope, not once. Not ever. It’s not like you were against mom and pop cafes, but there was a starbucks right around the corner that always made your drink just right and that was enough to make you keep going there. The clan symbol hung proudly in front of the cafe like it had done that night. You felt yourself getting antsier by the moment, but you were practically starving by this point so there wasn���t really any turning back now.

“Wait.” You shook your head remembering the shocking evidence that you had uncovered not even just a few days ago. “Are you okay with coming here?”

Yoriichi exhaled loudly as he shoved his hands into his jean pockets and gave you a small smile and nodded. “Yes, I’ve come to terms with it.”

You looked at him incredulously. “Eh?”

He chuckled at your expression as he took a sip from his hydroflask.

“Just like that?” You looked around and put your hand up to your mouth as you whispered. “You’re okay with your mom and your uncle banging behind your dad’s back?”

He choked almost immediately and you rushed to pat his back and apologized profusely. He waved a hand in the air to gesture that it was fine, but you could’ve been a little more gracious with your words. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry.” He laughed as he put his bottle into his backpacks side pocket. “I can explain after you tell me why you’re so curious about how many women I’ve been with.”

You sulked remembering your earlier conversation as you turned on your heel and started walking in the direction of the restaurant or should you say your old apartment. You soft sighed emitted from your lips as you gazed up at your old complex. You missed it.

As Yoriichi opened the door for you, he gave you a reassuring smile that made you feel less anxiety ridden and sad but then you remembered that he was a womanizer. Well, maybe not a real womanizer, but still. Until he would prove otherwise that was what you were going to assume. Did it make sense? Not really.

You were immediately met with Uncle Keshi’s vibrant personality as he walked from behind the counter. “[name]! Yoriichi! I’ve been dying to see you guys! How was the trip?”

“It was amazing, Uncle.” Yoriichi smiled as he hugged his uncle. You stood there flabbergasted at the scene unfolding in front of you.

There was no way in fucking hell that he came to terms about the whole issue. It was so problematic that even you couldn’t just pretend that everything was okay.

“I’m glad to hear it.” Keshi clapped his nephew’s back before turning to look at you.

“Honestly, [name], you are always glowing. It’s nice to see that you’re in good hands.” He smiled at you and simply bowed at him before going to the furthest and most secluded part of the cafe. You sat down where you had enjoyed the night with Yoriichi’s mother and shared laughs and idle conversation. Mostly on your part due to how tired you had become as the night began to dwindle down to your bedtime.

“Is everything okay?’ Keshi spoke in a lower tone to Yoriichi.

The both of them looked over at you who had your elbow propped up on your chin as you gazed outside before they looked back at one another.

“She’s fine. She’s just dealing with a lot of…inner turmoil.” Yoriichi responded, but smiled at his uncle. “Don’t worry about it.”

Moments past and soon Yoriichi met you with a whole tray of side dishes and drinks. Your stomach growled loudly and you began to salivate at the sight of it.

“Someone’s hungry.”

You pushed your lips out into a pout as you took your chopsticks in your hand and shoved a mouthful of rice into your mouth.

“So?”

“So what?” You countered as you observed as he mimicked your actions.

“You’re eating aren’t you?”

“Can I finish my meal at least?”

He had to keep himself from chuckling at how irate you were becoming. The look of annoyance gracing your features was quite cute on you.

You continued on to silently eat your meal until you were full to your heart’s content. A sigh emitted from your lips as you leaned back into your seat and glanced outside. You recalled the night of you meeting all of Yoriichi’s relatives. His immediate family being the more intense and intimidating prospects. The image of Michikatsu burned into your mind. He literally looked like an evil twin. You chuckled at the thought. How cliche.

“What’s so funny?”

You frowned again as you glanced over at him. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Hmm…” He tilted his head as he propped his elbow up on the table and gazed at you. You felt your bottom lip tremble as you averted your eyes. “...so, will you tell me now, [name].”

The way he said your name sent shivers up your spine. He was magnetic and enamoring and you wanted to not look at him, really you didn’t but the way he was reeling you back in. When you did find yourself turning back to face him, he was a lot closer than you remembered. You lifted your hand to create a barrier between the both of you.

“I-If you move away from my face, I’ll tell you.” You stammered.

You hadn’t noticed that your heart was racing and your hands were becoming clammy. When will this vicious cycle ever end?

You let out a sharp exhale as you folded your hands together. “I just…You’re gonna think it’s stupid.”

He gently took your hand in his as he caressed your skin with the pad of his thumb. “I won’t think anything you say is stupid.”

You swallowed your saliva as you felt apprehensive bringing up the subject again. His calloused hands were warm and inviting, luring you out to speak.

“Okay…Well,” You took a glance around the cafe. It wasn’t too full, but it wasn’t too empty. You had to make sure that your voice didn’t carry so you leaned in as you spoke in a hushed tone. “I wanted to know how many women you were with because…”

You suddenly felt your voice catch in your throat as you spoke and you cleared it before you continued. “Well, you were just so experienced, so I didn’t know what else to think and then it made me kinda–”

“Jealous?” He raised his brow at you with an amused expression on his face.

You took another deep breath as you nodded and casted your gaze downward as if that would shift your humiliation. You didn’t know why you were suddenly so abashed by this conversation. Not too long ago were you completely naked with one another and not to mention you were the one making the advancements. How were you embarrassed when he was literally going down on you less than a week ago?

“I guess.” You ran a hand through your hair as you tried to refocus on the conversation.

“Just one.”

You turned your head so quickly, you thought you might’ve given yourself whiplash. “Just one?”

“Don’t sound too eager now.” He teased as he sipped at his water. “But yes, just one.”

Now you were really interested. “Can I ask who?”

His eyes cast downward and a wave of grief and solemnity washed over the both of you. Over him first and then you. You sensed that he had suddenly become humorless.

“You don’t have to answer.” You began to say as you squeezed his hand.

He gave you a small smile and brought your hand closer to his heart. “It’s okay.”

“I just would rather not speak about it here.” His voice was low and hushed and you only nodded clearly taking notice that it was a touchy subject.

Still, you couldn’t help but be ever more curious. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

Your eyes broadened as your body perked up. “Right now?”

“Is that okay with you? Did you have somewhere else you needed to be?” He asked, getting up from his seat as he grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder.

“No, that’s fine. I know a nice, secluded place.” You quickly replied, as you gathered the dishes into the tray.

“Nice and secluded, you say?” He raised his brows at you knowingly.

You scoffed as you shook your head. “You’re ridiculous. I guess that's what it means to have a one track mind.”

“I’d like to think of myself as a multi-tasker.” He gave you a playful smile, but before you could find yourself smiling a little too much Yoriichi knocked into another making the dishes clatter on his tray and nearly fall over.

“Do you ever watch where you’re going?”

That voice made all your thoughts cease and it sent an icy and unwelcoming shudder down your body.

Yoriichi set the tray down to his immediate left and his figure became rigid and suddenly the air around you was so tense that it was almost tangible.

“What the hell are you doing here?” He asked as he rolled up his sleeves.

“What do you mean? This is my turf, too. Right, Uncle?”

The twins turned to their uncle for further inspection to which Keshi just laughed awkwardly as he waved his hands in the air.

“Now, now, boys. Let’s not get so rowdy. You are brother’s after all.” He patted them both on the back and they both glared at one another.

You found yourself picking up a knife and began to lift it and then glided it downward between the both of them.

They both gave you a puzzled look.

“What are you doing?” Yoriichi inquired.

“I’m cutting the tension in the air.” You gave him a proud smile.

Uncle Keshi laughed a hearty laugh. Like seriously this guy was keeling over with how much he was laughing and only stood there in triumph.

“That was a good one. Wooo.” He wiped away a tear as he took the knife from you and set it behind him. “Anyways, you boys will be seeing more of each other since Michikatsu enrolled into Kimetsu University.”

“What?!” You and Yoriichi chorused gawking at them in disbelief.

Yoriichi scoffed as he folded his arms.“I guess, they just let anyone in.”

“Have you ever considered the fact that I’m actually smarter than you?” Michikatsu countered, stepping up to him.

It was as if you could see the lightning between them flare and you then began to do what you did earlier, but this time with your hand.

Yoriichi did a double take at you, but Michikatsu only surveyed you up and down several times before tilting his head at you.

“So, you’re really going to marry her?” He pointed his thumb at you.

Yoriichi’s glare was even more intense and infuriated as he turned back to him and stepped in front of you.

“Mind your business.”

“Oh, but it is my business.” Michikatsu stepped up to him.

You glanced down at Yoriichi’s fists that were balled up so tightly that his veins were threatening to pop at any moment. Your hand smoothed over his and he relaxed a little under your touch.

“I just remembered that I have to go feed my cats.” You blurted out suddenly.

“Your cats?” They all chorused.

“Yeah, they’ve been under my aunt’s care and I forgot that I needed you to help me give them their ringworm medication.”

Yoriichi’s eyes narrowed at you as you glanced up at him with not a single hint of giving in. You really didn’t want to be caught up in another situation where the two brothers were about to pound each other’s faces in.

“Right, I’m sure Clover and Clementine are very eager to have me drop itraconazole onto their ears.” Yoriichi replied as he took your hand in his and you beamed up at him.

“Itraconzole is an oral medication.” Michikatsu interjected, giving him a suspicious look.

“I meant miconazole.” Yoriichi countered as he faced him again.

“Sure, you did.” There went the Lightning Glare again.

“Haha! Right, so anyways we have to get going!” You began to drag Yoriichi out the door. “I don’t want to leave it up to my aunt. They might just claw her eyes out! It was nice seeing you guys again.” You waved goodbye to Uncle Keshi and Michikatsu.

His twin brother looked quite disgruntled as he crossed his arms and scoffed as he mumbled something under his breath. To which Uncle Keshi smacked him and scolded him as he frowned at him and rubbed his arm.

Yoriichi pushed open the door for the both of you to walk out and were met with the autumn air. It was quiet for a moment as you walked hand in hand watching as the fiery leaves swayed.

“Thanks for that.” He squeezed your hand as he glanced from in front of him to you.

You smiled and leaned into him. “Of course. I can only imagine how stressful that was for you so I wanted to get out of there fast. Plus Michikatsu enrolling? What a joke.”

He stopped in front of you and cupped your cheeks before leaning over and capturing your lips. His scent, his touch, literally everything about him was so damn heavenly. You felt yourself wanting the kiss to last longer as you opened your lips to seize more of him, but he tugged away from you. A small chuckle escaped him as he peered down at you with a serene smile. Meanwhile, you were still entranced by him waiting for another kiss.

Even since you two had uncovered the news of Yoriichi’s mother and Uncle Keshi, he never stopped showing you any affection. In fact, he gave you more of him and you were not complaining, but something about the way he kissed you. You really just couldn’t get enough.

“That’s all I get?”

“Oh, I didn’t know you wanted more.” He teased, bringing his lips closer to yours again.

And there it was again. That look on your face that he absolutely loved. That look that made him want you in every way imaginable, but he always kept his composure though he would lose his cool for sure any time soon.

But in the flip of a switch, you had recalled why you came out here in the first place and a look of concern had etched onto your features. You raised your hand to caress his cheeks.

“Is everything okay?”

He nodded as he took your hand in his and led you to a nearby bench to speak more comfortably. He sighed as he leaned against the wooden seat as he gazed up at the leaves that were falling down. Your hand reflexively went to his knee, but you had felt your phone buzz several times.

You pulled it out to look down at the notifications that littered your screen.

Shinobu: Are you with Yoriichi???

Mitsuri: Yes, I just spotted her leaving class with him and they were all up on each other

You felt your face warm at the text messages you were reading. Since when did Mitsuri see your interaction with him? And why didn’t she make herself known?

“Did something happen?” Yoriichi asked, capturing your attention.

You groaned as you shifted on the bench. “Just one of my friends spying on us.”

“And they didn’t say hi?”

“That’s what I’m saying!” You huffed as you shook your head and tossed your phone into your bag. You turned back to him wanting to give him your fullest attention. “Enough about that. We came here to talk about you.”

“Right…Well,” He scratched his temple. “There was a girl. Her name was Uta. We were set to get married. She cheated on me with my twin brother and then one of the rival gang members mutilated and murdered her in cold blood.”

Your jaw slackened immediately. You had no thoughts, no words. He said it so casually, so nonchalant. Like he totally just ripped the bandage off and you were at a loss for words.

“W-wait…”

He let out a large sigh as he licked his lips and continued. “Look, I know that’s really heavy, but I don’t want to keep things from you. I want to be open and honest.”

“Yeah, but–” You searched for the right words to say. “How can you–I mean–I just–”

You let out a frustrated huff. “How are you so nonchalant about that? Did you, like not love this girl?”

He pressed his lips together and nodded. “I did, but that was a long time ago. We were both eighteen years old. We were set to get married before we were even born. We spent our entire childhood years together. Me, Uta and Michikatsu–we were like this.” He crossed his two fingers together. “But then she, well, cheated on me and then she got brutally murdered by one of the rival clan members. We found who was responsible and we dealt with it. Of course, I mourned for her, but that was over three years ago. My family and I, we have this thing where we only mourn the dead for a certain period of time. I know that sounds stupid, but that along with two years of consistent therapy helped out a lot. Did it pacify the endless rage I have for my brother? Yeah, kind of. Do I still hate him? Yeah, kind of.”

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to say. That all sounds really insane.” You searched his face for any signs of anger or grief, but he only wore a smile as he intertwined his hands with yours. You knew what the term “dealt with” meant so you weren’t going to ask any more questions about that, but the thought of why he wasn’t angry at his Uncle lingered in your mind. You didn’t want to keep bringing down the hammer on too many heavy conversations all at once, so you had set it aside for now.

“I appreciate the sentiment. Really. You have a good heart and I appreciate someone who can console me in times of need. The truth is, I feel like I only loved Uta because she was literally made for me. Like, literally. As soon as her family had heard that my mother was pregnant, it wasn’t too long until they were either. Our family’s were binded in a marriage contract that would’ve made us billionaires. They wanted their little girl to marry the Heir of the Hanafuda Clan so that their family would have the protection they needed while we had the wealth. I mean it was kind of too good to be true.”

“So that’s why they killed her?” You asked.

He nodded solemnly. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“So, why are they after me? I don’t have any generational wealth. At least, I don’t think so.” You began to ponder about your family. You grew up pretty comfortably in a nice suburbia, but you never really thought that you had a secret inheritance.

“It’s not about your wealth. That was just a bonus for both of our family’s. My father isn’t worried about money anymore. He attained that even after Uta’s death. Her family loved our family so much that, while they didn’t offer us the full amount, they did offer a third of it. In exchange, we offer them our protection as a post mortem kind of deal.”

“So?” You raised a brow at him as you awaited his answer.

He laughed to himself as brushed away some flyaways from his face. “God, I forgot how convoluted this whole thing was. Forgive me for not being as meticulous as I always am or seem to be.”

“Take your time.” You patted his knee.

He relaxed his tense body so more as he got comfortable. “Well, there’s kind of like this hierarchy that Japan has that’s not very existent to the world. Or I should say your world, but behind the scenes the Japanese Prime Minister isn’t who is actually in charge. It’s us. The three sister clans rule Japan and they have been fighting for the title for years now. All three of the families have Heirs that are well past their time, so they’re basically null and void. So when the time passes for the Heir, they get a new one to take their place. So whoever makes a baby, gets them married has an immediate claim to the throne.”

“So you guys are really Game of Throne-ing this shit right now?”

He chuckled at your commentary. “Basically. Yeah, that’s almost it. I was suppose to be it and then well, you know, and then there was another Heir on the rise, but he and his wife got murdered.”

“Oh my God.” You put a hand to your mouth. “Was this recent?”

Yoriichi became solemn again. “Yes. Can you see why that’s an issue?”

“Do you think that–”

“Yeah, I actually do think my dad would stoop that low and then proceed to officiate another meeting to send out a signal for the other clans to back off. He’s a crafty guy, even craftier than my mother. I really wouldn’t put it past him. My father is a power hungry man, and if that means that I get to wear the crown to keep our family’s power in check then, so be it.”

“But you mentioned that there is a time where their power becomes void. What happens during that time period?”

“That’s what we call, machijikan or waiting period. They try their best to conceive as quickly as possible because the sooner they can pop out a baby and get them married, the sooner they can dethrone anyone else.”

“So, who’s in power during that time?”

“You know how the American government has three branches?” He held out three fingers and you nodded.

“Think of us as the Legislative branch and Susanoo as Executive and Tsukuyomi as Judicial. Everyone sort of has checks and balances over one another and it is equally distributed for the most part.”

You threw your head back and groaned. “I’m having a case of deja vu.”

“Trust me this isn’t even the half of it.”

You straightened yourself back up and jutted your lip out. “There’s more?”

He folded his arms as he gave you a curious look. “What, you just thought you were going to get married to an Heir and that’s it?”

“Yeah bada-bing, bada-doom.” You gave him your best Italian mafia accent and he shook his head at you.

“Obviously, I knew that there would be a lot more than what meets the eye, but I feel like I’m getting a lesson on history and law.”

“Get used to it. Because when we get married, you’re going to need multiple lessons on how to be an Heiress and be knowledgeable about all the ins and outs of the Hanafuda Clan.”

“We haven’t even graduated yet!” You exclaimed, throwing yourself back against the bench and put your face in your hands.

He gently pried away your hands and glanced up at his expression that continued to be the source of your heart racing and your cheeks burning.

“I told you, we’re in this together. So please, don’t allow yourself to place all the burden on your shoulders. I promise to make it as easy for you as possible.”

You sighed. “And I believe you. I just always feel like there’s more. More that you’re going to tell me every time I turn the corner. It’s just overwhelming.”

“That’s why I’m trying to take it piece by piece with you. This is only the surface.”

“Well, I guess I have no choice in the matter anyway.” You joked and he snorted in response.

“You and me both.”

It was silent for a moment. The autumn breeze danced across your forms sending a chill up your spine and you felt his arms encase you with his warmth. Gosh, he was always so warm all the time. You closed your eyes, feeling his skin raise your body temperature up again and enjoy the way he felt against you.

“So how many guys have you guys been with?”

You glanced down at him and he laughed before tugging you back into his arms again as he kissed your forehead. You never grew tired of the comfort that he provided to you and you wanted nothing more than to do that for him.

***

“So, you guys didn’t bang?”

“Shinobu!”

“What?”

You shook your head as you shoved a spoonful of ice cream into your mouth and chuckled. “No, we didn’t, but almost and that’s besides the point.”

“Right, yeah the affair and his fiance being murdered. I didn’t know a thing about it, but I’m not so sure if Tengen or his dad does or not either. I suspect a handful of people do know about it, though.” Shinobu added as she set her cup of ice cream down and wiped the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

“I can’t even tell who I want to root for anymore.” Mitsuri frowned down at her cup as she played with the straw of her milkshake.

“Well, you could root for us.” You nudged at her and she smiled at you.

“Always. And sorry for spying on you earlier. I didn’t want to interrupt your time together.” The rosette pouted at you.

You snorted. “We’ve done nothing but spend time together. From the moment I wake up, til the time I sleep. I am always under the man’s watch. Not that I mind, but it wouldn’t put a damper in my day.”

“You guys sleep in the same bed?” Shinobu asked.

You shook your head.

“Well, why not?”

You shrugged. “Well, when we went on the trip we did, but when we came back I just went back to sleeping in my bed.”

“Right, I guess you just didn’t want to push it. You know, after all that.” Shinobu gestured to you with her spoon.

“Well, on the bright side at least he’s publicly affectionate to you now.” Mitsuri beamed at you with her palms on either side of her chin.

“Yeah, you guys are a whole couple now. I guess all those months of gawking and stalking him worked.” Shinobu hummed as she swung her legs back and forth.

“I-I never stalked him!” You exclaimed.

Your voice carried through the ice cream parlor causing a few bystanders to turn their heads towards you. You sighed as you sulked in your chair while the two girls giggled.

“Whatever. I don’t wanna talk about this anymore.” You took the last bit of ice cream and shoveled it into your mouth before tossing it in the nearby trash can. “Tell us about your date with Snake Dude.”

And it was as if Mitsuri’s whole mood lit up. Her emerald eyes twinkled at the mention of him as she told you about him. So far, you knew that his name was Obanai and that he worked at his family’s noodle shop that he was supposed to take over after he graduated college. Oh and that the snake that he was attached to the hip with was named Kaburamaru.

“He’s actually so cute and sweet!” Mitsuri beamed as she sipped on her milkshake.

“The snake or him?” Shinobu raised her brow at her, making you giggle.

“Both! I can’t wait to see him again.” She wrapped her arms around herself as she thought about her crush.

“So, when you guys bang, is he gonna keep the snake in the room?” You taunted her.

“S-shut up! And his name is Kaburamaru!” Mitsuri pouted at you.

You and Shinobu burst out in a fit of giggles at how defensive and cute Mitsuri had become over the guy she had been recently seeing. It had felt like forever that you had just sat down and had normal conversation with your normal friends on a normal day. You didn’t want to complain. You had the luxury of practically everything being handed to you on a silver plate, but it felt strange. You were used to saving up money for nice things that had good quality and didn’t fall apart so quickly, but now you were given weekly allowances and Yoriichi’s black card. Life was pretty insane for you right now.

Oh my God, you had Yoriichi’s black card on you.

“Guys, guys, guys.” You spoke to them rather abruptly in a hushed tone and they immediately gave you their full attention. “Guess what Yoriichi gave me.”

“We already know he gave you amazing head you don’t have to rub it in.” Shinobu tossed her cup into the trash.

You felt your cheeks warm at her crudeness. “T-that’s not what I was going to say!”

You searched your bag for your wallet and then pulled out the card and waved it in their faces.

“Is that a Black Card?” Mitsuri whisper shouted in excitement.

“No way.” Shinobu and Mitsuri were analyzing it extremely up close with pure joy.

“Yes, and guess what we’re gonna do.” You sang as you did a little dance in your seat.

“I could really use another pair of Louboutin’s.” The ravenette mused with a grin on her face.

“And I’ve had my eye on this really cute Chanel bag for a while.” Mitsuri sipped the remnants of her drink before bouncing in her seat.

You smirked at them as you waved the luxury card in your hand. “And I could use a tiny little dress that will make him crazy.”

***

So, maybe you went a little overboard with the Black Card that Yoriichi had given you, but it’s not like you spent an egregious amount of money every day. You were responsible and you saved up, but you didn’t see the harm in a little shopping trip.

“[name]...this was not a little shopping trip.” Mitsuri gawked at all the items you guys stockpiled into Shinobu’s car.

“Eh, I’ve done worse.” Shinobu interjected as she added her new pair of Louboutin’s on top of the stack of other shoes she had purchased.

“Eh? What do you mean?” Mitsuri eeped as she oggled her best friend.

“Didn’t you know that’s how she got her mini cooper and tesla?” You laughed at Mitsuri’s shocked expression.

“Eh?! Since when do you have a mini cooper?” The rosette was in complete disbelief at this point.

“Yeah, you missed a chapter or three.” You joked leaning against her car as she closed the hood.

“Oh, right. We didn’t know you until the end of high school. I have two mini coopers actually. One at our house in Santa Barbara and then the other is in London.”

“Wow, you’re really just ballin’ like that huh?” You crossed your arms at her.

“Chapter? More like I’m missing a whole volume in the series that is Shinobu’s Epic Life of Luxury.” Mitsuri scratched the back of her head completely befuddled.

You glanced at your watch.

7:07PM

“Damn.”

“You gotta go?” The ravenette dropped her phone into her bag before throwing it over her shoulder.

“Yeah.” You opened your phone to see that you had multiple call and message notifications from Yoriichi. “Yeah, I really gotta go.”

“Ooo, you’re in trouble.” Mitsuri poked fun at you and you playfully pushed her.

“I’m sure it’s nothing like that. He’s probably just worried. I’ll take you back.” Shinobu gestured to her car as she got into the driver’s seat and you sighed as you slid into the backseat.

You ran a hand through your hair as you peered out the window hearing the gps play loudly in the background between lyrics that were blaring from the aux cord. You opened your text messages to your conversation with Yoriichi.

Yoriichi: Are you alright? 3:03PM

Yoriichi: Text me when you can 3:25PM

Yoriichi: I don’t mind that you’re spending money at all 4:05PM

Yoriichi: What did you get from Agent Provocateur👀

You laughed out loud at the last text. He must have his account connected to his card to see every transaction that goes through. Well, duh. He’d be an idiot not to.

You: Maybe I’ll let you see when I get back home😘

Yoriichi: I am definitely looking forward to it. Let me know when you get to the gates

“Seems like everything’s okay.” Mitsuri mused as paused to look up from her phone to the rear view mirror.

You nodded your head and laughed again. “Yeah he was filtering through my transactions.”

“So he’s not mad?” Shinobu glanced up to look at you through the rear view mirror.

You shook your head as you locked your phone and set it aside. “Nah, he said he doesn’t mind if I spend money.”

“What did I tell you?” Shinobu replied as she turned the music up and sang along to the lyrics.

You hummed to the tune as you saw your building start to come into view and you quickly texted Yoriichi letting him know you were approaching the gates.

As you Shinobu finally pulled up to the towering gateway, you noticed that it opened immediately.

“Ooo, are we going to get to meet him.” Shinobu said in a sing-song voice.

She proceeded to cruise down the pathway and sure enough there stood Yoriichi waiting for you to come home along with Koshi who was ready to load everything onto a separate cart.

“Yeah, looks like it.” You jutted your chin out to them.

As the car came to a halt, you exited the car and you were met with Yoriichi’s pleasant face and open arms.

You immediately hugged him back welcoming all of his warmth and homeliness. You heard your two annoying friends “aw” at the both of you which signaled you to exchange introductions.

“So Kocho as in Kocho Biological Products who produces vaccines?” Yoriichi was the type to put two and two together so quickly it amazed you every time, but ever since he had mentioned that Uta’s family were close family friends it made sense. It had made sense that the Hanafuda Clan had connections through the ass, and as an heir to be Yoriichi had to have networked since birth.

“Yeah, we’ve never formally met since you stopped going to all the philanthropy events. I don’t blame you, though. They’re only meant to showcase how hypocritical billionaires are with their faux holier-than-thou personalities.” Shinobu laughed, recalling the trip that she had just made to one during their short break.

He scoffed. “Don’t even get me started on their speeches.”

“Frauds, all of them. Not even a hint of real compassion behind those soulless money hungry eyes.” The ravenette shook her head as she wrapped her hair in a low bun and glanced over at you. “I’m sorry, [name]. I hope we’re not boring you. It’s just been a while since I’ve spoken to someone who attends those events and isn’t easily moved by big corp billionaires.”

“Not at all.” You smiled from her to Yoriichi. “I’m happy to see you guys getting along. I’m just a little tired is all.”

“Oh, you should get some rest then.” Mitsuri urged you to go inside with Yoriichi to spend some quality time together.

Shinobu seemed to get the hint as well as she began to actively advocate for the same. “Totally, it’s cold out here anyway. You guys should go in together and keep each other warm.”

Yoriichi peered down at his phone to check the time. “It is getting pretty late, but you guys should come over for lunch or dinner sometime soon.”

“Oh, are you going to be preparing the meals?” The ravenette had a playful grin on her face obviously referring to his outstanding chef skills via you informing them about him and his endless list of talents.

“Of course. I can come up with a small menu that you guys can choose from a day ahead of time so I can prepare it all.” He nodded to you all.

“That’s really fancy. I can’t say that I’ve ever had anyone offer that outside of a wedding.” Mitsuri looked thoroughly impressed, but her mind quickly went to various food items that she would enjoy.

“It looks like you already have a few things in mind.” Shinobu laughed at her and Mitsuri sheepishly grinned at her.

“I can also offer a few suggestions and we can go from there.” Yoriichi added and everyone seemed to be in agreement on that.

After exchanging contact information it was finally time to head back inside. You hugged your friends goodbye and waved at them as they disappeared out of view. You sighed as you turned back to Yoriichi and leaned into his form.

“I know, I know. Shopping can be so tough.” He patted you on the back as he wrapped his arms around you.

You giggled into his chest as you inhaled his scent. It was intoxicating. “Carry me.”

You pulled away to glance up at him and without hesitation he had you over his shoulders and you yelped in response. “Not like that!”

“You never specified.” He smacked your ass so loudly that it echoed into the empty pathway leading up to the building which caused another yelp to come from you.

“Yoriichi!” You whined as you kicked and squirmed, but he only laughed at your attempts to escape.

“Relax, we’re almost there.” He replied casually as he pressed the elevator door button. A loud ding signaling that it opened for the both of you to enter. Well, he was the only one walking as you laid there limp and tired.

You began to feel exhausted as your mind reeled to random things like what type of apple Yoriichi liked if he liked them at all. Floating images of various types of apple began to dance in your mind as you felt yourself slipping into subconsciousness.

“[name]?”

No response. Only the sound of your snores began to fill the empty space of the elevator. A smile on his face as the doors of the elevator opened and he stepped out into his living room and straight to his bedroom. He gently laid you out on his bed and you seemed to be completely passed out as you curled up into fetal position.

“Are you going to fall asleep in your outside clothes?”

“Mmm, just take them off for me.” You mumbled, squeezing your eyes as he turned on the lamp light.

“Sorry…” He whispered as he felt suddenly abashed by the idea of taking off your clothes.

It wasn’t that it was sexual, obviously. You were too tired to even think about wanting to do anything, but the act of peeling off your clothes and having your skin revealed to him. It took him back to how you had completely stripped down for him and how he had pleasured you. He hummed a tune to distract him from all his intrusive thoughts as he began to unzip your jeans and tug off your sweater.

You hugged your body, feeling the cool air hit your body and he quickly covered you with his blankets to keep your body warm. A small sigh of content slipped from his lips as he brushed the hair away from your face and kissed your hair.

This was the first time that you had slept in his bed, albeit because you probably thought it was yours but you had been sharing the same bed when you two were in the cabin, In fact, you had insisted upon it. He yawned as he stretched out his arms and began to get up, but you reached for him.

“Don’t leave.” You murmured sleepily.

And how could he deny you when you looked that cute with sheets wrapped around you like you were a burrito. He grinned down at you as held you close to him.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

***

The sound of birds chirping outside your window as the light filtered through the curtains that were open just a crack. You stretched your body carefully not to pull anything as little noises slipped from your mouth. As you opened your eyes, you noticed that Yoriichi was beside you in a deep slumber. His beautiful tresses were gliding down his back and spilled onto his pillow covers and back. His upper body was free from any shirt and you took this time to thoroughly examine his tattoos. His arms seemed to be finished, but his back piece was left empty and you had recalled when he had told you he wasn’t done with his tattoos yet. You grimaced thinking about a needle puncturing your skin thousands if not millions of times.

He must’ve had a high pain tolerance to get all of that done. You traced over the patterns of dark clouds and sakura blossoms before you placed a gentle kiss on his skin. It had dawned over you that you hadn’t brushed your teeth nor washed your face last night and he just let you. You peered down at yourself realizing that you were just in your tank top and boyshorts. Had he really taken off your clothes for you?

You felt abashed just shamelessly letting him do that to you knowing Yoriichi would never take advantage of you but still! It was conflicting knowing that he has already seen your naked body, but somehow you still felt shy around him. You sharply exhaled as you carefully treaded out of bed.

The sound of him shifting his weight to the other side of your bed caught your attention and you glanced back to see that he was awake and, boy did he look damn fine. His maroon hues were boring into you as he stretched out his hand to you while he smiled gracefully. It was enough to make you have two heartbeats.

“Are you coming back to bed…?” He murmured in a deep sleepy voice.

You felt your face warming as your breath caught in your throat and nodded at him. A small but audible breath escaped his lips as he welcomed you with open arms and you snuggled into the crook of his neck. He threw the covers over your body as he squeezed your body.

“Did you sleep well?”

You only nodded feeling embarrassed again. His laugh vibrated against your body and you held him closer to you.

“Did you?” Your voice was small as you spoke and he began to thread his fingers through your hair.

“Yes, I sleep so much better when you're next to me.”

You swallowed your saliva as you peeked up at him. He was shutting his eyes as the light decorated him so beautifully. He looked like an angel.

“I’m glad.” You replied in a hushed tone as you buried your head into his chest.

You both laid there for a moment as you closed your eyes. It was nice knowing that you didn’t have classes that you needed to attend so you could just relax for the day and not worry too much about schoolwork.

The sound of a phone buzzing both sent you groaning and Yoriichi reached his arm out to blindly search for his phone. One eye cracked open as he observed the caller id.

“Who is it?”

“My uncle.”

That made you shoot up immediately from your cozy position as you peered down at him.

“What does he want?”

Yoriichi shook his head as he looked at his buzzing phone again. “I have no idea. He never calls me at this time.”

You felt your heart pounding against your chest as you watched him swipe his phone to answer the call. He sat up and stretched his arms as he held the phone to his ear.

“Hey, Uncle. What’s up?”

The sound of static from the otherside of the phone garbled his voice and you both gave each other the same look.

“Uncle, I can’t hear you.”

The sound suddenly stopped and you shifted on the bed in anticipation.

“Can–can you hear me now?”

“Yes.”

“I need to talk to you and [name] about something…”