#the whole reasoning behind the letter <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[writesailingdreams]

will watch One Piece Fan Letter again (there was so much happening in so quickly in some scenes), but overall, loved it very much. cried.

[pomefioredove]

Ngl I want a sequel to bad ending 'yuu gets sold' series

Cause imagine the boys go to NBC just to find out that yuu is actuality doing great, better than great, even better than the time they were doing in NRC

I like to think that Rollo is legitimate a nice person when you remove the hatred over magic type of stuff

He deffo makes sure that yuu is well fed and clean (let's be honest, not something that yuu always has in NRC) plus treat yuu greatly

rollo fans who are starving since everyone stopped talking about him after november I'm here for you. I see you. take my hand

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending

summary: yuu transfers to NBC type of post: fic characters: rollo my beloved additional info: yuu is gender neutral, implied romantic ^_^

It had been a long six months for everyone at Night Raven College.

The departure- and subsequent absence- of their beloved Ramshackle prefect was very much felt.

Days were longer, nights were darker, the first year class itself felt empty.

"At least they're not dead," was the consensus.

Of course, you continued to communicate with your friends- it wasn't like you completely dropped off the map, although Noble Bell College had a stricter policy about phone usage.

You even sent some letters back and forth, yours filled with updates and mementos, theirs with pictures of all you'd left behind.

Did you miss NRC?

Well...

You missed your friends.

But Crowley? The overblots? Being everyone's personal therapist?

...Yeah. You could live without that.

Noble Bell College may have been more exclusive, and more strict in their code of conduct, but it was more peaceful, too. Smaller, less students, and much less reliance on magic, so that you and Grim could be whole students independent of one another.

The curriculum was much different than NRC's. Less of an emphasis on a personal connection to magic, and more on tradition, ritual, and history. There were few times when you'd have to sit out a class, or watch your friends have fun from the sidelines.

If anything, Rollo made a point of including you.

A part of it may have been personal pride- after all, he just couldn't resist showing you how much better he is.

But he also had a vague idea about how stressful your life at NRC really was, and how isolated you felt, despite being surrounded by people. It was his duty, in a sense, to rectify that.

Even if it meant you had to sit through his lectures and recitations of the traditional magic laws.

...Though, even with his intense adherence to tradition and structure, he made quite a show of being kind to you.

Despite his best efforts to claim fairness and righteousness, it was no secret to anyone that he favored you. You quickly became the only person he spent his free time with (not that he was particularly social in the first place...)

And... it was nice. Is nice.

He holds himself to high standards, and expects that of others; he's cold, harsh when he feels it necessary, and repressed in all ways imaginable.

And yet... well, there's no sabotage, no swindling, no scamming, no manipulation to make petty ends meet.

Rollo, as a person, is both confusingly complex and reassuringly simple. You know as much. He sticks to routine, to rules, to tradition. He's diligent in every sense of the word, and highly respected because of it.

And when the eyes of the other students are turned away, he treats you with a sort of gentleness that you'd become wholly unfamiliar with at NRC. Like a porcelain doll, like something precious he desires to wrap in cotton and silk and store somewhere safe.

You wonder if his behavior towards you is at all connected to the very reason he risked his status bringing you here in the first place... but you don't dwell too long. He's as mysterious as anything.

When your former classmates come to visit over break, it's like they're meeting an entirely different person.

"Happy to see us, eh? You're like, glowing," Ace smirks.

Deuce elbows him in the ribs for that comment. "What he meant is that you look great. I mean, really! You've been sleeping more?"

You nod. "Lots, yeah,"

"Weird, I woulda guessed they'd been working you to the bone. This place is all "no funny business", right?" Ace shakes his head.

You laugh, walking alongside your former fellow first years in the streets of Fleur City, the very ones you'd become so accustomed to in recent months.

"I've actually been doing well with my studies. I think I've finally decided what I want to do after graduation,"

"Oh, that's great!" Deuce says. A lengthy pause follows, much to your confusion- it's as if everyone has something they want to say, but won't be the first to say it.

Epel clears his throat. "You been 'doin alright?"

"Um... yeah. I have,"

"Cause... you know, if anyone was giving you trouble, we'd give 'em what for!"

You chuckle. "I'm fine, really. People here are pretty nice..."

Again, that same silence follows. Epel, Deuce, and Ace look between each other, as if daring the other to say the next thing.

This time, you take the initiative.

"Listen. If this is about Rollo, he's fine. I'm fine. He's been nothing but helpful,"

The tense silence breaks and Ace sighs, shaking his head. "You can't blame us for being worried,"

"I mean, this whole situation has been really shady. Everyone at NRC has been worried sick..." Deuce says. "We just wanted to make sure..."

You smile. "I appreciate it, but you really don't have to send in a rescue party. I've been... I've been really good. Happy. And I miss you guys to pieces, but I've felt closer to home here than anywhere else. Does that sound strange?"

A short pause follows. Deuce is the first to speak, his voice sounding strained. "Not at all. We just want you to be happy,"

You can tell he's trying really hard to sound positive. Epel, on the other hand, doesn't sugarcoat anything.

"You really won't come back with us?"

You smile again, though this one is wholly apologetic. "No, I don't think so,"

The three are quiet for another moment, and then seem to drop the subject. The rest of their stay goes by smoothly, even with all the strained moments where you can tell they have something to ask. You assume they've already figured out the answer.

The day trip is over by sundown and you return to campus just before curfew, taking a seat in one of the cozy (though currently empty) lounges by a familiar face.

"They're gone?" Rollo asks, not bothering to look up from the textbook he's perusing.

You watch him carefully, and think it's best not to mention you friend's attempt to bring you back with them.

"Yes, they're gone. We had fun, nothing happened,"

"Good," he says. A brief silence follows before he speaks again. "I do trust you. But-"

"You don't trust them. I understand. If I were you, I suppose I wouldn't, either. But I'm fine,"

"When are they coming back?"

"Two months. They're taking the weekend. Might bring some other people,"

Rollo hums a note of acknowledgment, fingers rolling around the pen in his right hand. The book is still open, though he's looking ahead now. His face is flushed.

You know he's unhappy with it, but he won't say anything. You're grateful he likes you enough to let you rub elbows with people he despises. Especially after all that's happened...

He stands, closing the book. "Very well. Let me know what day so that I may adequately prepare myself. Good night. Be safe,"

And with that, he takes his leave.

Ever distant. Ever polite. One might mistake the way he speaks for coldness or resentment if you weren't so familiar with his mannerisms by now.

You turn to look into the lounge fireplace behind you, watching the flames flicker and die until all that remains are soft, glowing embers, the same shade of red that burns on his cheeks when you look at him.

[kirislovelygf]

make us proud (sevika x reader)

warning!! season ii act iii spoilers ahead!! read at ur own risk :)

contents: you and sevika are dating. takes place post piltover-noxian war (act 3) jinx is gone :( but isha is alive!! you, sevika, and isha are a little family. nicknames, fluff, arguments, sevika's stubborn but she loves you a lot so

⋇⋆✦⋆⋇

the war between piltover and the noxians was brutal. zaunites bled in a fight that wasn’t theirs. but piltover and zaun become united as they once were and defeat the enemies now there’s a bright future for zaunites. 

when caitlyn invited sevika to the kiramann house, she was scared. her first thought was she was about to be arrested.

she held the letter in her hand and i asked to read it. it sounded much better on paper than how she reacted. 

“maybe she wants to settle some treaty.” i said to her. she walked behind the bar and pulled out a bottle of whiskey only god knows how old. 

“don’t make me laugh.” she grumbled. she pulled out a glass and then struggled to pull the cork off the bottle. 

i sighed and took the bottle from her, pulling the cork off with ease. “let’s just go and hear her out. she thanked you after the battle, remember?” i said, pouring the heavy whiskey into the glass. 

“i could've done that..” she muttered. “please, let’s go. i’ll come with-” 

“no.” she said. 

i scoffed. “just like that?” 

“what if she gets you arrested too? i’m not gonna break you out, i’m telling you now.” she said, raising the glass to her lips. 

i sighed out. “what if she wants to help us? she wouldn't be asking us to go to her house if she wanted to arrest us, she would have sent enforcers down here by now.” i said. 

she scrunched her face slightly from the drink before putting it down. she stared at the ground, ideas and thoughts and possibilities conflicting. 

“it says she wants to talk to you about something new and.. innovative. says you have the sense of leadersh- did you even read this whole thing?” i snapped before looking at the paper again. 

she rolled her eyes. “i might have skimmed it..” she mumbled. i looked at her again.

“vika, this could be life-changing. we have to go.” i said. she let out a heavy sigh. 

“this is the opportunity you’ve been fighting your whole life for.” i said to her. she looks up at me slightly. 

she sighs out heavily before downing the rest of the whiskey and nodding. “okay, i'll go.” 

i smield. “yes!” i clapped my hands together, to which she rolled her eyes to. 

“i don’t know how you survived that battle.” 

“and killed more noxians than you. alright, let’s go!” i jumped off the bar stool and ran out the bar. 

we went to the kiramann house together and caitlyn and vi greeted us at the front steps. 

i wnet and hugged vi quickly before going back to stand by sevika again. sevika glared them both down while caitlyn rubbed her hands together nervously. 

“thank you so much for coming.” she smiled. i smiled back and looked up at sevika. she just simply nodded. 

“come inside, please.” caitlyn sputtered. vi took her hand and they walk in together. i look at sevika and n judge her to follow. she looked up at the castle-like mansion with awe. 

i don't remember that last time she willingly came up here. 

we followed caitlyn to some lounge area with a fireplace. there was a desk in front of a giant bookshelf. in fact, most of the walls were just tall bookshelves. sunlight poured in from the fancy gold-lined windows. 

“the reason i sent you the letter was first, to thank you for your help. piltover would have fallen if you hadn’t led the zaunites into battle to help us.” she started. 

sevika nods. “it’s our city too” she muttered. “and of course, we have jinx and ekko to thank…” i added. 

vi’s face softens when i mention jinx. but caitlyn quickly diverts the conversation. “yes, of course, well.. the other reason i invited you is because i have a proposition for you.” she said.

she looks at vi. “vi helped me realize i need to use my position to give zaunites a voice. to give you a voice, sevika and y/n.” she said, lookign at us.

sevika and i glance at each other. 

“there’s space on the council for one more councilperson. vi suggested you take the spot, sevika." she said.

“what.” sevika and i gasped. "are you serious?" i asked, lookign at vi. she gives a slight nod.

“you are a symbol of hope and loyalty. you know exactly what zaunites need and how to get rid of shimmer so your people can thrive again.” she said. 

“the council needs someone who has seen the pain firsthand.” she continued. “but it’s.. it’s up to you if you would like to take up the responsibility.. and of course, every councilperson needs an assistant...” she gestures to me. 

“so i don't get a seat on the council?” 

her eyes go wide and she glances at vi. “oh.. um-" vi chuckled softly.

“nah, i’m just fuckin wit ya.” i smiled. she laughed nervously while vi rolled her eyes. 

“well? sevika?” i smiled, looking up at her. she was still in shock from the offer.  

“i think.. i um..” she stuttered. caitlyn nodded. “why don't you take a moment to disuss this? and let me know what you decide." she starts to step out of the room.

"the choice is yours, but i truly do hope you join the council, sevika. you’d help a lot of lives.” she said softly. 

she nods at her and caitlyn left the room, vi walking slowly behind her. i look up at sevika and stand in front of her. i waited for the door to close to talkto sevika.

“vika, you have to say yes!” i whisper-yelled. 

“i can-t.. i don’t- ugh, it's just-” i noticed vi didn’t leave the room and she went and stood by me. 

“did she ask you?” she looks at vi. “i’m not old enough. you gotta be like a hundred.” she joked. 

sevika rolled her eyes and started walking out the door to leave. “vika, she was just kidding!” i said. 

“i'm serious. you think i’m about to become a pawn in piltover’s game? what would our people think if they saw me sitting at that table?” 

i laughed in disbelief. “vika, this is.. so amazingly huge. how can you not see this as a good thing? let me remind you that there has never ever once been a zaunite councilperson. you have the rare chance to make real change.” i continued. 

she keeps her back to me, staring a the door. i look at vi. “say something.”

she sputtered. “uh-sevika, you..” she takes a second to think. “i seriously can’t think of anyone better fit for the job than you. that’s why i suggested to caitlyn it be you.” she said. i nodded and looked to sevika. 

she looks back angrily. “you told her to do this. i bet even a topsider like her would rather die than have someone like me sitting next to her.”

vi sighs. “vika, come on.” i begged. 

“i’ll see you at home.” she muttered. she slams the door behind her and the stomping of her boots fades to silence. vi and i look at each other. 

“i’m sorry.. i thought she’d jump at a chance like this.” i told her. 

“me too.” vi nodded. caitlyn comes back into the room and her face scrunches when she sees that sevika left. 

vi and i look at her carrying a tray of a teapot and four cute teacups “oh!” aw, she’s so cute. 

“uh.. what did she say?” she asked, putting the tray down on the coffee table in front of the fireplace. we walked over to her. 

“she needs a little time to think it over, caitlyn.” i said to her. “oh.. of course. please let her know to take her time.” she nodded 

"i will.." i smiled and couldn't help myself. i jumped into a hug, wrapping my arm tightly around ber. “but thank you, thank you so much!” i said. “you have no idea how much this means for us.” 

she laughs awkwardly but returns the hug. i pull away from her and she holds my hands. “piltover has done enough damage in the lanes. it’s time we pick up the mess one step at a time. and that step is you and sevika.” she said. 

i smiled at her and thanked her again before going to take my leave. i assumed vi was gonna come with but when i looked to see if she was following, her and caitlyn had their foreheads pressed together and then they kissed. 

“aw..” i mumbled before quickly taking my exit. i strode through the messed up streets of piltover and then zaun where the sunlight gradually grew less and less. 

i found sevika at this tent some enforcers set up in the square. people came to get fixed up, get some medicine, to get some rest. 

while i maneuvered my way through e crowds of people in bandages and walking on crushed, i found sevika. 

weirdly enough, physically helping people. she was crouched down in front of a gurney where a little girl was with blue hair was sat. sevika had just finished wrapped a bandage around isha's ankle.

“isha!” i called out. her gorgeous light brown eyes lit up and she jumped off the make-shift gurney to run to me. “aw, my baby!” i laughed out as she jumped into my arms. i held her head gently before pulling back to look atv her. 

i picked her up and saw sevika walking over. “i thought i told you not to run.” she said to isha. she looks down at her ankle. 

“what happened here?” i asked. 

“twisted it running away. thankfully, some of these crazies were sane enough to take her here, where she's been resting the past couple days.” she said. 

i look up at isha’s scratched face. “you’re a brave little one, damn.” i said, shaking her, making her bounce. she laughs and i put her down. she walks back to her gurney and sist where sevika nd i follow her. 

i hung around until sundown and a medic said isha was good to go home. 

sevika and i walked home to my palace while she carried a sleepy isha in her arm. 

“vika, about today..” i started. 

she sighed out. “i know you have no reason to trust caitlyn. or anyone in piltover. none of us do.” i said. 

she stares ahead. “but you can make so much more change while sitting at that table than you have in the last twenty years.” 

“you make me sound way older than i actually am, i just turned 34 like a month ago.” 

i glared at her and sped up so i could stand in front of her. “i’m serious. you’re worried about how people would look at you if you were on the council but why is that a bad thing? i bet zaunites would be ecstatic to see someone just like them get to represent them up there.” 

she blinks and looks down. then her gaze shifts to a sleeping isha. i smiled softly before inching closer to her. 

“you’ll help little girls like her. people like us. don’t you think she deserves more than this?” she looks at our surroundings. 

the dirty alleys, the lanes she grew up in, where we looked death in the eye multiple times. 

hints of shimmer laced on the walls, on the ground, in the air, in the food and water. anyone who was born in the lanes inhaled shimmer at least once, whether on purpose or not. 

sevika looks down at me and nods. “fine. i’ll do it.” 

i smiled. “really?” 

“for her.” she looks at isha as she stirs in her sleep. i cupped her face in my hands, my arms extended since she was so much taller than me. "and for you.. i guess."

she leaned her forehead against mine before i hugged her. she didn't have her mechanical arm anymore, so she just let her head rest on mine. 

the next day, the two of us were standing behind the doors that led to the council room. i’ve never seen sevika so nervous before. 

i step in front of her and move strands of her hair out of the way of her eyes. “you could’ve cleaned up a bit before your first day, vika.” i pat off the lint from her maroon cape, covering her missing arm.

"gotta look your best for these topsiders." i fix her hair a bit again.

she chuckled softly. my hands fell down and held her face. “thank you for convicing me this is a good idea.” 

she hums, leaning into the touch of my palm. i pulled her face down slightly to kiss her, even then having to get on my toes. her hand slips around my waist to pull me closer. 

i pulled away to rest my forehead against hers. i pull away from her and step beside her. 

“i’m not worthy enough to open the doors, a councilwoman has to do it..” i smirked. 

“tch.. come one.” she shakes her head and follows her. she slams open the giant doors. i winced at the sudden sunlight from the giant windows but kept walking behind her. 

i pulled her seat out for her and she nodded as a thank you before taking her seat at the end of a half-circle table. i stood beside her as she took her seat. 

i look around at the other council people, giving us dirty looks. a moment later, caitlyn comes in. 

“everyone, i’d like you to meet our newest member of the council. councilwoman sevika, representing the lanes.” she said, her heeled boots clicking on the polished granite floors. 

“i expect everyone to give her and her assistant a warm welcome.” she said. she comes up to me and puts a hand on my shoulder. 

the council people didn’t look at sevika any differently than before caitlyn walked in. 

“she’ll be taking my place from now on.” she continued.

sevika and i look at each other, neither of us knowing she would do that.

change for the lanes, change for isha, was not about to come easily or quickly.

i wondered what jinx would think of sevika sitting here if she were alive now. and how isha was going to grow up as i watched an airship fly past the council building into the blue sky. 

a/n: OMGGGG i am so proud sevika got a seat at teh council as her ending, i was so proud of her!!!! <33

[generalsmemories]

To raise a child

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader ft. yanqing (platonic)

✧ based on the asks: 3 requests asking for a family fic with jing yuan and yanqing

✧ synopsis: raising a child is always hard, even when you're a long life species with a lot of experiences.

✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, found family trope (a.k.a my one weakness with every media), yanqing & reader have a slight rocky start, mentions of other characters, sentences in italics are readers thoughts.

✧ a/n: i'm not gonna chuck angst into a found family trope unless i feel particulary miserable, they just gonna have a good ole time being parents to a yanqing from when he was a wee babie to the lieutenant he is today - also a lot of this is my own interpretation SINCE I DON'T GET A CRUMB ON HOW THE HELL THIS MAN FOUND MY BABY. not beta-ed like usual i'm sorry.

The first time you were told about Yanqing's existence was when you were not onboard Luofu, which honestly made the first meeting between the two of you a lot worse.

"... Pardon, he found what now while I'm away?" you stare bewildreded at the messenger before you while clutching the letter Jing Yuan had written to you - you can practically hear his easy-going voice resound in your head through the words before you.

"What do you mean he suddenly picked up a whole child?!"

Safe to say that the Luofu were turned upside down by the time you came back to the ship. Rumours spread amongst the citizens, gossip between the storytellers and the newsboard retelling the latest news and constantly updating on any new "information" they had gotten.

To say you got stopped at every corner before you even stepped foot back in land was an understatement. You practically had a crowd waiting for you - it was only by the assistance of Yukong that you had managed to worm yourself out of the crowd and hightail home.

Maybe it's because Jing Yuan knew you would come home first, or maybe it's because he was aware that you had a lot of questions for him. Which was why you had gotten a text prior to landing with the single message of:

"Decided to take the day off today <3"

Safe to say he was left on read.

"Jing Yuan, what has gotten into you-" are the first words that leaves your mouth when you slam your entrance doors open, only for your eyes to widen when Jing Yuan is already waiting for you at the foyer. Hands behind his back and sporting his signature smile, but your gaze isn't at your lover before you.

Rather it was on the smaller child that was hiding behind his legs, he was by no means scared of your sudden appearance you noticed. Rather, he was sizing you up and down with a fierce gaze, almost like a lion cub who had just found its first prey.

The glare made your previous anger and confusion fade into a more surprised shock, rendering you speechless on how to proceed further. Jing Yuan steps in after seeing your anger dissipate upon seeing the fierce boy, raising a hand to ruffle Yanqing's hair before he directs his gaze back to you who is still staring at Yanqing in mild surprise.

"He's a feisty one isn't he?" is what he utters softly, and it's the slight exhaustion in his voice that causes you to let your guard down and put aside your confusion and need for answers aside.

Right now there's a young child before you, a child that you don't know the lineage of - but a child that Jing Yuan himself had picked up and stood his ground against public opinion for.

And Jing Yuan didn't do things without reason.

But you're well aware that he's also the kind to not tell you much as to why he had done a few decisions. As futile as you know it is, you would still try to get something out of him later. But for now, you would have to try to give a better impression of yourself to this kid who you're pretty sure sees you as anything, but a person with good intentions.

... What do you say to a child that is currently holding animosity towards you?

Seeing your distraught face makes Jing Yuan let out a chuckle, glancing down at Yanqing who is still staring fiercly at you, "They're not someone you should be on guard with. That's my spouse, they're just surprised by your sudden arrival is all, Yanqing."

So his name is Yanqing.

The reassurance from Jing Yuan makes the young boy relax a bit, but you can still tell he's very much on guard against you, "... I'm Yanqing," he mutters quietly.

The two of you seem to have a long way to go from the first encounter.

"... What were you thinking?" you question the moment Jing Yuan slides the door to your bedroom shut, you had spent the majority of the afternoon cleaning up a spare room for Yanqing to sleep in after the meeting while the two had headed out to prepare the paperwork for Yanqing to be offcially be recgonized as a Cloud Knight.

"... I saw potential?" he tries, but with one glance at your direction and being faced with your quirked eyebrow makes him let out a sigh instead, reaching a hand behind his head to pull the red ribbon tying his hair back.

He doesn't say anything as he makes his way over to you. Neither does he utter a word when he lets his entire weight fall on top of your own, the noise of surprise you let out making him chuckle, rubbing his face onto neck, "W-Wait, hold on. There's a literal child in this house now, what are you-"

"Dear, what are you thinking?" Jing Yuan snorts before you finish your sentence, wrapping his arms around your waist before flipping himself over so that you're laying on top of him, "Our schedule clashed together too much that it's been 2 years since I last saw you? And when I meet you again you looked like you were going to pull my head off of my own body, this is quite frankly the first instance where I get you all to myself," he explains, raising an eyebrow at your gradually reddening face, "Whatever you were imagining is beyond me, darling."

"... Shut up and tell me the truth already," you murmur before burying your face in his chest, lifting a closed fist to lightly hit his arm when you feel his chest rumble with his constrained laughter.

"I didn't lie when I said I saw potential. Despite his young age, Yanqing is quite gifted with the sword," he starts after a brief silence, fingers drumming along the spine of your back, "But it would be more accurate to say I'm preparing the future generation?" he muses out loud, sounding unsure himself which makes let out a chuckle, "Wow, I'm sure lady Fu Xuan would be delighted by the news of your possible retirement."

"I'm afraid I'll have to disappoint our Master Diviner for another few decades unfortunately. She's still far too young to take up the mantle of the general."

You hum, raising your head up from his chest to make eye contact, Jing Yuan directing his gaze from staring up at the ceiling to instead stare at you as well, "Next time you're thinking of picking up a kid, give me a heads up? Or else you're going to end up on the news again like today with the headlines of you committing infidelity."

He laughs, hoisting you further up his body to peck your lips, "Please, I won't be picking up another child anytime soon. But maybe I need to show the citizens that I only have eyes for one person if they were swayed this easily by the apperance of one child."

"... Please don't say something that embarassing in front of Yanqing."

"See, you're already being a great parental figure."

Great parental figure my ass.

Is what's currently running through your mind as you're once again, left alone with Jing Yuan's prodigal apprentince. it's been a few months after Yanqing's first arrival, and the relationship between the two of you seem to still be threading on thin ice.

Your relationship with the young prodigy hasn't gotten worse, but it has in no way improved either. Whenever Jing Yuan is not present amongst the three of you, Yanqing becomes extra reserved and takes extra caution to not bother you - which makes any attempt to even talk to him 10 times harder than it has to be.

Yanqing is out in the garden, brushing the fallen leaves into a neat pile while you're sitting by the living room table doing paperwork. And yet, ever since Jing Yuan had stepped out for some urgent business, the two of you haven't even spoken a single word to each other.

Yanqing was at an age where you didn't need to give him constant attention, but with the way you two had started on the wrong foot it felt a lot harder trying to get closer to him - mostly because the boy himself tries to not be a burden on you, which in a way has become a burden.

Not to mention, Jing Yuan spends the most time with him training him personally - so the time you spend with Yanqing is close to nothing compared to your lover.

The odds are truly against you at the moment.

At this point, the new paper scroll that you had rolled out were becoming useless with how long you had pressed the ink filled brush on it's surface, the gradual circle of ink stained paper growing with each passing minute.

Topics you can talk about.. Jing Yuan mentioned he was great with a sword, but it's been ages since I've held a sword myself till the point he's probably better than me...

Were you always this awkward with children?

Glancing at the clock, you notice it's almost time for your meetup with master Gongshu over at the Artisanship Commission. So with a reluctant sigh, you glance down at the paper scroll before you - that has long been ruined before you put the brush away and roll the scroll back up.

"... Yanqing I'm about to head to out to the Artisanship Commission, can you..." your voice dies down when you see the boy whip his head around the moment you mention the Commission. And although he tries to hide it, you would be a fool to not notice the sparkle in his eyes at the mention of where you are going.

"... Do you want to join?" you end up asking instead.

You've never seen his facial expression change so much in just a few seconds. First you could tell he wanted to agree, but then you're pretty sure he managed to figure out why you were going and didn't want to be a burden, but still wanted to go. You soon saw hope come back to his eyes, presumably remembering that you personally asked, but you saw the same hope dwindle down when he probably thought that you asked just to include him.

The sight made you laugh, "... A child is a child after all, no matter where they are," you whisper quietly to yourself, "You won't be a bother, Yanqing. And wouldn't it be better for you to look around the Luofu a bit? I'm pretty sure Jing Yuan has only brought you to the Cloud Knights training area after all, we can even stop by Cloudbreath Sleeves to take your measurements so that you can get some tailor-made clothes and not Jing Yuan's old clothes."

That seemed to be the only reassurance he needed.

You're pretty sure Yanqing hasn't noticed that your meeting with master Gongshu ended 15 minutes ago. Neither has he seemed to realize that the two of you have spent the next 15 minutes just observing his every reaction to the swords on display.

His eyes seemed particulary glued to an iridescent blue sword with a black handle, master Gongzhu giving a low whistle beside you, "He's got a good eye."

You roll your eyes, "Send me the invoice later," you reply back before stepping towards the awestruck boy, "Why not bring it home with us?" you ask, Yanqing jumping slightly in surprise, his head turning around with widened eyes, "I can't possibly ask that of you, I can just save up-"

"You're staring at it like it's your first love, Yanqing," you chuckle, reaching out to grab the handle, twirling it around before reaching for the scabbard right underneath where it was displayed - sliding the sword inside.

"Consider it a gift, for future endeavours."

He blinks, taking the scabbard from your hands, staring at the intricate design weaved into the metal - and you notice the faint tears forming at the corners of his eyes before the boy leaps into your arms to give you a hug, "I swear I'll treasure it, thank you!"

Perhaps too shocked by the sudden hug, you fail to realize that master Gongshu had quickly snapped a picture of the scene and sending it to a certain general.

Qingzu had to stop the very same general from storming away from the Divine of Foresight to head to the Artisanship Commission the very next minute.

"... Well the two of you seem to have gotten a lot closer these past few months," Jing Yuan comments the moment he noticed the position you were currently in. You merely glared halfheartedly at him, but Jing Yuan made no effort to help you - instead walking over to bend down to peck your forehead, careful to not wake the child asleep on top of you.

"I told him to head home before me since I still had affairs to tend to, didn't think he would immediately collapse on top of you and doze off," Jing Yuan remarks with a laugh.

You had one hand supporting Yanqing weight on top of you so that he doesn't topple over, so you decide to use your other hand to reach over and flick Jing Yuan on the forhead - a flick he moved away from with a smirk, "He just dozed off mid-talk too. He was talking about your recent spar match before he just fell asleep," you say, "And to think he vehemently denied not needing a nap after a training session because he's not a child."

Jing Yuan lets out another laugh at that, effortlessly wrangling Yanqing away from your hold and hoisting him up in his arms without manaing to wake him up, "Well if you treat him like an adult, he'll show the temperament of a child as well."

"You should try to get some rest as well, dear. We can just order something from Aurum Alley later," Jing Yuan suggests, to which you merely nod to, standing up to stretch your limbs, "Join me then, I'm sure our dozing general is quite tired too."

"My, what an alluring offer. Can I assume that there's something more-"

"Don't push your luck."

here's the 3 requests that wanted a family fic - i actually struggled a bit with how to do this, but alas - i just know future me will conjure something up again so have this as a teaser HAHA

[azullumi]

LAST NIGHT I DREAMT OF THE STARS AND YOU, PT. 1

premise — because that’s just how they are; alternatively, “the type to” trend with hsr characters. characters — ruan mei, veritas ratio, aventurine, and robin content tags — gender-neutral reader, established relationship, fluff, slight angst, not proofread, word vomit in some parts, 1.6k words ; headcanons

note from me — seasickness took me out and the fact that i have a 9 hr road trip tomorrow is already making me dizzy. i hope i’m asleep for the 3/4 of it,, also this has a pt. 2 which i’ll upload later on !! anyways i wrote this in between my vacation and trip and in between the long-ass separate fics with sunday and aven so sorry if it seems rusty or out of my style 🙏

RUAN MEI, (lies in between the line of a good lover and a bad lover) the type to be unable to express her affections for you through words and settles with small and simple gestures that she has observed and seen from everyone around her; having never understood “love” and never knowing how to correspond with such, she’s left silent and confused like a lost child in the wake of it. She’ll find herself staring you quietly, memorizing the lines of your face and how it creases and contorts into different expressions, studying each crevices and edges of the parts that makes up your being to bury you in her memory, and there’s a smile that tugs on her lips every time her gaze falls on you. Oh, she wishes she understood what it all meant (she simply and devastatingly adores you).

RUAN MEI, the type to subconsciously write your name on paper whenever she’s distracted. it’s a small habit she does, one that makes her smile whenever she notices the letters spelling out your name. She has ruined, tainted several of her papers, even important ones, with just a single word, a set of letters that composes of what makes warmth seep into her chest when her mind drifts into the thought of someone—you.

RUAN MEI, the type not understand the underlying reason behind her actions—why she spends the time and makes the effort in between her busy schedule and pile of papers to make sweets for you, why she lets you do her hair despite how messy it often turns out when you braid it and how she can never find the strength in herself to “fix” or disturb the state of your work, why she always seek for the warmth of your hands whenever she’s feeling uneasy or stressed, why she always lean to your shoulder or to your touch when you caress her cheek, and everything. It’s a puzzle board of missing and scattered pieces, unable to comprehend the full image of the mystery—and yet, she still delves into the enigma of her feelings that is intertwined with your existence. Maybe one day she’ll come to know it all and maybe it will be the time when she can finally be honest to herself.

VERITAS RATIO, the type to want to know every single thing you and remember all of it. Perhaps it’s the bare minimum, perhaps it’s something that he just does. “They don’t like that,” He would say when an arrogant fool would even try to give you (or do) something, and he’s there, witnessing it all, knowing the things that you prefer and like. He knows what flowers that you like, knows your favorite color, knows the way you prefer to sleep, knows the small habits that you do when you’re nervous or scared or happy, knows every little detail that paints the whole of your existence. Isn’t it simply just lovely when someone desires to know you from the inside and out? Even if it’s just a little bit, he feels more closer to you in this way.

VERITAS RATIO, the type to be sweet and reassuring towards you (through words and actions), even though he may come off as mean, blunt, or rude towards others. Sure, he may call you an idiot sometimes but he’ll never go past that nor reach the line of degrading and distasteful remarks because he never wishes to hurt your feelings; if ever he did, he’ll apologize and tell you it’s not his intention. “Fool,” But the affection that edges into the tone of his voice cuts the thread of disdain that sews into the word. Oftentimes when texting and it’s easy to misunderstand the tone of one’s message, especially his tone, he’ll reassure you that he didn’t send it in a way that he’s angry or scornful: “The ‘Ok’ that I sent is not a mad ‘Ok’, I am in a rush and could only type that out. I’m not angry.”

VERITAS RATIO, the type to entertain your questions no matter how stupid it can be; he’d give you the answers every single time. He doesn’t mind being treated like a walking encyclopedia or dictionary if it’s you—he’d hate it if you were going to ask someone else instead of him (although he probably never told you that discomfort). I mean, you have a well-known member of the Intelligentsia Guild, someone who parallels a genius, just right at the tip of your fingertips, why bother asking someone else?

AVENTURINE, the type to like listening to the sound of your breathing, the sound of your heartbeat (to listen to the sound of you blinking, to listen to your hands soothe). It’s comforting, in an odd way, and he never tells you but it helps him fall asleep—watching the rising and falling of your chest, seeing your calm face wrinkle ever so often while you sleep. He keeps the sound of your heartbeat close to the pocket on his chest, weaving the rhythm of it to his pulse, and before he knew it, the dawn will come in quiet solitude.

AVENTURINE, the type to be always on fight-or-flight mode. Perhaps it’s the way that he grew up, perhaps it was the harsh and cruel environment that he’s in, but he’s always on guard, seemingly on defensive mode as if danger lurks at every dark corner. His shoulders are always tense, his hand either hidden or playing with the ring on his finger, it’s like he never can’t seem to relax himself even when he’s in the comfort of your arms. It follows him everywhere, trailing behind his feet, and forces him awake at night—he doesn’t even know where the fear, the anxiety, is coming from, he just knows it’s there. One wrong step and his thoughts will come crashing down like cold downpour, one wrong move and you’ll come to leave him. Sometimes a little reassurance comes a long way and it’s all he needs when his mind is being tormented. (He will learn to live with it, even if he can never seem to understand or know it. He will come to know peace as if it’s all he had in his hands when the sun first held him).

AVENTURINE, the type to immediately smile after a kiss. It’s utterly affectionate; parting, staring deeply into one’s eyes with his cheeks dusted with a certain color and he’s grinning—warmth beams from his expression and there’s a certain feeling that intertwines into his gaze and he knows it’s love because it’s all he feels whenever he looks at you. He’s the type to laugh into a kiss, feeling ticklish all over his bones as if your hands are ghosting the sensitive parts of his skin, and you’ll ask him, “What?” but he’ll only answer with, “Nothing.” He’s not drunk, the ache of wanting simply swells up in his chest and all he can think of is how much he adores you.

ROBIN, the type to try and make time for you. Her schedule is always packed, filled with all kinds of events and tasks that she needs to do. It’s overwhelming, everything feels overwhelming for her and it’s hard to know which one she should prioritize first not when she has a lot of things on her hands. Sometimes she feels lost, feels the weight too heavy on her shoulders, feels like her feet are tied to the ragged earth, feels the cage closing on her. She tries so hard to be the perfect lover for you, to become someone that will reach beyond your expectations; she cradles that perfect image, broken in all of its edges, that were constructed for herself close to her chest even if it feels like a knife to her heart. But really, all you need is for her to be herself (not the star that everyone admires and wishes to reach) and sometimes, that’s all she needs to hear from you—that she doesn’t have to hold on to the shattered chains when the coldness of the metal reminds her of what she has to carry.

ROBIN, the type to go on all kinds of dates with you, silly or not, and even matches clothes with you. She’s usually the one to make the invite to match, thinking that it’s cute and the both of you rarely ever has time like this so why not make the most out of it; who are you to even say no when she’s beaming at you so warmly? She has all of her options laid on the bed, displayed on clothing hangers, asking you what you’re going to wear or what color do you want. It’s lovely, sweet, seeing her like this and you could only pray to whoever aeon is listening that nobody comes to ruin the day the both of you rarely have for each other.

ROBIN, the type to bring you all kinds of souvenirs and gifts from her (universal) tours, sometimes having bought too much that you don’t know what to with some of them; the type to send you letters every time she’s away so that you won’t worry for he, especially knowing what happened last time, the type to always try to keep in touch and keep you close no matter the stars between you and her. She’ll ask for one thing that you own that she can carry with her person, making a promise that she’ll come back and return it—the item a testament to her vow—, but for the meantime, she’ll keep it so she has a little piece of you everywhere she goes and she can say that you’re always there by her side.

DRUM ROLLS PLS *dundundundundun* special mention to the one and only beloved feli @dr-felitas !! i think i owe you a lot of end notes so here i am :3 also i’m sorry if i publish this and i still haven’t responded to your messages (if you have sent me cause im on dnd to avoid my dumbass from checking and looking at the phone during car rides knowing that i get motion sick) ANYWAYS i would like to begin this with i love you mwamwa, you’re one of the sweetest and most wonderful souls i have ever met and anyone who tells u otherwise will get a boulder thrown to their head 🫵 im glad to have met you, that my anti-social ass went ahead and messaged you despite the fact that we only talked once or twice AND IT WAS OVER ASKS OR COMMENTS BUT YEAH !! idk what or where i’ll be if i hadn’t done that; maybe not replying to my friends idk (again im sorry if i take business days to answer i sometimes get busy or i sometimes dont have the energy :3 i hope u still love me hahahaha… *slides down the wall*) again, i really appreciate and adore you for everything. you are a brave and kind person and i only hope for the good things for you. don’t be too mean or harsh to yourself 🫂 know that i’m always here to listen to you no matter what you’re saying. you’re never a burden to me and i hope you’ll come to see just how you shine and radiate with so much warmth and kindness, it’s like love itself is found in you. ily lottss mwaa <33

sunday, himeko, welt, gallagher, and jing yuan next !!

© azullumi — do not plagiarize, copy, repost, nor translate any of my works.

[eightball-chronicles]

Cheering Up Daisuke!

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

inspired by some absolutely delicious art by @al1en-invasi0n !!! check em out theyre so yummy :3

this MIGHT be my first time writing a tk fic (it is) so please don't bully me gangalang ,,, criticism is accepted just be nice to me [cry] also was writen on laptop so if the formats weird i apologize oops ...

lee!daisuke, ler!curly (NON SHIP !!!!!)

tw / cw : tks, starts off a wee bit sad, mention of jeopardy (j*mmy)

word count : 3151 under the cut

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

"Get it through your goddamn skull! That vent is strictly off limits! Fully fuckin' collapsed inside!" 

It was safe to say that Swansea was pissed. Daisuke, just released from the emergency foam he'd accidentally triggered, was awkwardly shuffling in place as he received yet another earful from his mentor. He messed up, sure, but really? His legs hurt already from being trapped not too long ago, he didn't want his head to follow suit.  

"You looking to get impaled, electrocuted, and cooked?!" Swansea's usual scowl was far more intense than usual; it was obvious to Curly, at least. As captain, he knew he'd have to intervene soon. Before he could, however, Daisuke spoke out: 

"Yeah, but like, you can't fit in there to fix it, right? So I can totally handle it." 

An uncomfortable silence filled the utility room. the three men stood in as the younger's words marinated. Swansea's eye twitched, clearly agitated. Curly really needed to say something - if he doesn't, who knows what Swansea would- 

"Captain." 

He stiffened slightly, worried what the older man was planning.  Swansea extended his hand out to the captain, demanding the axe. Curly saw Daisuke twiddling his fingers from the corner of his eye. Both their heads moved in unison with Swansea's arm. "Swansea," Curly started, handing the mechanic the axe, "this could've damaged the pods. You can't let something like this happen again." 

"Yeah, yeah...I got it." Swansea took the axe and swung it to rest on his shoulder. "Loud and clear." Slightly less tense than before, Curly placed his hand on his hip. "Keep the axe until you've cleaned this all up, yeah?" Swansea nodded with a huff, shifting his attention to his intern. Who was still fidgeting his hands. He looked up shyly as he spoke: "It's ok to be big, boss! "My gramps was super huge! And he lived until, like, 60!" 

Oh shit. 

Curly nervously looked to Swansea, who had an unreadable expression on his face. Daisuke, unaware of the weight of his words, smiled softly. Curly's attention shifted when he noticed Jimmy standing by the utility room door. He saw it as a reason to excuse himself from the heavy tension between the two men before him. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Curly swiftly made his way towards his co-pilot. Daisuke, finally noticing Swansea's mood, silently cursed at his captain for abandoning him. And as soon as he did... 

Swansea went off. Yelling all sorts of nonsense about safety and protocol that Daisuke didn't care to hear for the thirteenth time that week. Instead, trying to focus his attention on the conversation taking place behind his mentor. Unfortunately, he found it to be quite difficult. Something about being sane, psych evals, Anya - what was that about cartoon horses? 

Just as the two men started to walk off, Swansea yelled louder, noticing his intern not listening. This brought a new wave of lecturing, and Daisuke was *not* having it. He didn't even care if Swansea said the winning lottery numbers, he just wanted him to shut up. Much to his dismay, that wouldn't be happening anytime soon... 

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

Curly just sent Jimmy away after receiving a letter from the higherups. He reread its contents again, confirming what it said as if he had somehow misread the whole thing. Pony Express is shutting down? How could this happen? How will he tell the crew? Although instructed to not break the news until later, Curly was unsure if he could do that. Sighing heavily, the captain decided to get some fresh air. Well, not exactly - just whatever was breathable outside the weighty air of the cockpit. 

Ready to open the door at the end of the hallway, Curly was stopped by Swansea's presence behind it. He noticed something off immediately; his familiar frown replaced with a more concerned expression. Curly questioned it without a second thought, to which Swansea replied: "It's about Daisuke. After you left, I kind of went off. I...I think I went too hard on him. I've lectured him a bunch of times before, but he seemed more down this time." 

"Oh? How so?" Curly asked, putting a hand to his chin. Swansea shifted his weight before continuing: "After I run my mouth to him, he usually puts on this dramatic act and pouts when I dismiss him to go somewhere else. This time seemed different. I don't know how to explain it, but I think I hurt the kid." 

Swansea ended his explanation with a deep sigh as he lowered his head; he clearly felt guilty, and Curly understood as much. "Have you tried talking to him?" 

"I'm not too sure how thrilled he'd be to see me right now. I don't wanna scare the poor thing any more than I already have.  Plus, I don't know where he's at." 

Curly nodded before Swansea spoke up again. "Do you think you can talk to him?" The captain thought for a brief moment before reaching out to the worried man, patting his shoulder. "Of course I can. I'll go look for him and cheer him up, promise! You can go rest if you'd like, just make sure the foam in utility gets cleared up later, yeah?" 

To this, Swansea relaxed, wearing an uncommon smile. He nodded as he thanked Curly and walked off. The now determined captain headed off with a mission in mind; he was going to get Daisuke to smile, no matter the cost. 

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

If you disregard the sobs, the cargo room was quiet. The vast space left a slight echo on Daisuke's cries. He sat on the stairs, head between his knees and arms around his shins. His mind ran as fast as the ship he resided on. Why was Swansea so much angrier than usual? He was just trying to help; he was his intern after all. Then again, he practically called him fat and kinda sorta maybe implied he would die at 60... 

Damn, why would he say that? 

At this point, Daisuke's thoughts were racing a million miles a minute. The grip on his pants tightened as he cried. God, he's a screwup. No wonder his parents sent him away on this internship. He was annoying at home, and he's annoying in space. Will he ever learn to keep his mouth shut? He was so lost in his head that he didn't hear the door open behind him, or the footsteps that followed it. 

"Daisuke?" 

Said boy jumped a foot as he frantically wiped his eyes. He turned to face the source of the voice, trying to put on an act and forced a smile. But that smile shook, and Curly noticed. "Hey, captain! What's up?"  

"I should be asking you that. Are you ok?" 

Daisuke flinched slightly, his fake smile faltered as his shoulders began to tremble again. "I...I-I just...Swansea..." He didn't get anything else out after that, nothing that was intelligible, at least. He broke down again, turning around and placed his head back on his knees. Curly frowned as he made his way to Daisuke. He sat to his left on the stairs, rubbing the boy's back as he tried to soothe him. He let him cry it out until he was left only sniffling. Only then did he decide to speak out. "C'mon Daisuke, talk to me. Swansea found me earlier and said you were down. What's wrong?" 

He let out a small whimper upon hearing his mentor's name. Shakily, he started: "I-I don't know, I should've just listened to him. I just wanted to help! B-but I screwed up...I-I could've gotten myself seriously hurt, o-or killed, or broken the pods! Those are like, s-super important! Even I know that, yet still acted c-carelessly. N-not only that, I totally offended S-Swansea! H-he probably hates m-me, I c-can't believe I said that...I'm a t-total f-failure, I-" He was getting more panicked as he spoke, voice as shaky as ever. Curly cut him off as he stopped rubbing his back and pulled the boy to him by his waist. Daisuke yelped slightly at the sudden change of contact, yet melted into the side hug.  

"Kid," Curly started, "do you know why Swansea talked to me?" He felt a slight head shake on his shoulder. "Because he was worried for you, Daisuke. He told me he went too hard on you; that he feels bad he might have hurt you. I've never seen a more guilty face on him. And trust me when I say that means a lot. I've worked with him for I don't even know how long. He didn't mean to - Daisuke?" 

His speech was cut when he heard small chortles from the boy in his arm. Curly glanced down, seeing his shoulders tremble once more, differently this time. "Did I...say something funny?" he asked, a confused smile on his face. Daisuke shook his head again, a hand over his mouth. "Nohoho, it's just - your hahand-" Curly's gaze shifted to where his hand resided on the intern's side; it had started subconsciously rubbing him there as it was on Daisuke's back. "What about my hand? Are you hurt here? Oh no, I'm so sor-" 

"No! No, it's not that. I'm not hurt." 

"Oh? Then what is it?" 

Daisuke felt his face heat up. Thank god Curly couldn't see his face. He shifted slightly, unsure how to answer. "I just - it's not - you didn't - uh..." He peeked up to the captain as he trailed off, where he was met with a genuinely concerned face. "I'm afraid I don't follow, you know you can tell me anything, ri-" 

"It just tickled is all..." He mumbled. 

"Come again?" 

With a whine, Daisuke buried his face further into his hand, leaning more onto Curly's shoulder. No matter how many times asked, he didn't say more. Curly, in attempt to get his attention, pinched the boy where his hand still laid; on his waist. What he didn't expect, however, was for Daisuke to chirp at the touch. Now it was Cury's turn to get his mind thinking. Which didn't last long, however, as Daisuke's squeaky voice spoke up: 

"IT TICKLED ALRIGHT?!" 

If he wasn't blushing before, he sure was now. Curly saw the back of Daisuke's neck turn bright pink. Realization struck him shortly after, where a mischievous grin appeared. To confirm the suspicion, Curly pinched his side again, earning another bird-like sound. Oh, he struck gold. 

"Daisuke...are you-" 

"Shut up!" 

Daisuke's neck was now a deep red, his face buried deep in his palms while his fingers grabbed at his hair. His captain walked in on him crying, then he continued to cry *on* his captain, and now this?! Could this be any more embarrassing?! Well, yes, it could. Curly pinched his side for a fourth time. Daisuke whipped his head towards him only to be met with a grin covering half of the blonde's face. "Oh, Daisuke...that isn't a very nice way to speak to your captain now, is it?" 

Fuck. He's cooked. 

"W-w-wait, I-I didn't me-EEHEHEAA!" 

Daisuke was interrupted by his own squeal as Curly opted for pinching at his waist repeatedly rather than in intervals. He instinctively curled in on himself; arms wrapped around his torso while he brought his knees to his chest. While trying to twist away from the offending hand, Daisuke unintentionally leaned into Curly, who went in with his other hand to pinch at the giggling boy's other side. 

He squealed again from the tickly assault suddenly appearing elsewhere. Daisuke started jumping left and right, trying to escape from one hand only to be attacked by the other. Curly switched to poking before long, as this made the younger let out soft snorts as he weakly kicked his legs. The captain chuckled under Daisuke's evergrowing laughter, finding his reactions amusing. "I just cannot believe you told me to shut up. I'm wounded, Daisuke, and your words are the blade. How could you say such a thing?!"  

Said boy could only whine in response, "I dihihidn't mehehean toooooo! C'mohohon cahaptahahahain!"  

"Oh really? And how can I be sure of that, hm?" 

"Plehehehease! I prohohomise! I'm sohohorry, I'm sorryyyyy!" 

"Hmmmm...let me think." Curly pondered dramatically *way* longer than needed as he continued to poke at the intern's torso. Daisuke continued to squeak and giggle as he 'spaced out thinking.' Suddenly, the blonde perked up, "Alright, I've thought about it! I'm not stopping~" He then proceeded to move both his hands to Daisuke's hips, massaging the bone tenderly. 

The reaction was instant. The brunette shot his arms down, body spasming on impact. Grabbing Curly's wrists, Daisuke cackled loudly, unable to control the volume of his voice. His legs now fully kicking out as he spoke, "AAAAAHAHAHA! SHIHIHIT! GOHOD DAMN IT CUHUHURLY STAHAHAHAP!" To this, he gasped loudly; he would've acted out clutching his pearls had his hands not been occupied. "And just who do you think you are?! Talking to me like this...you're awfully ballsy for someone in your position." 

Daisuke could only answer in giggly babbles, unable to get any coherent words out as his hip bones got circles drilled into them. Curly only clicked his tongue in mock annoyance and grabbed Daisuke's left arm with his right, lifting it up. In once swift motion, he left the boy more vulnerable than ever. He gave him a break during this - he didn't want to kill the kid. Taking in big gulps of air, Daisuke had yet to notice the position of his arm. Only when he tried to rub his eyes did he glance up. He knew what was coming. 

Panicked, he locked eyes with his captor, smile wide and bright as his face matched his complimentary floral shirt. "C'mohohon captain! Y-you knohow I didn't mean ihit right? Rihight! S-so let's juhuhust forget this ever happehened!" Daisuke tried to reason with him, but Curly was having none of it. On the contrary, he was having too much fun. "Nuh uh, kid. You've gotta learn how to speak to your superiors. Tsk, young ones these days thinking they're all that. Even though you crumble the second I do...*this*." 

As he finished, his free hand quickly snaked behind Daisuke, going straight to his ribs. He pinched, squeezed, poked; anything to get the brunette to squeal. And squeal he did; his bubbly laughter echoed in the ample space of the cargo room. He tried to grab Curly's hand with his free one, but the captain kept dodging, scratching a new rib in the process. He chuckled as he felt weak tugging on the arm he held up. " 

"Plehehehease, I'm sohorry! I sweahahahar! I-I mehehean it!" 

"Oh, are you now? And how can I believe that?" 

Daisuke groaned between giggles before he spoke, "I prohohomise! I promihihise I'm sohorry!" 

Curly lifted an eyebrow at the intern, his bright smile showing off the gap between his front teeth. The sight brought his own smile to grow in size. "Okay, let's say I believe you then. You're forgiven, bud." 

"Thehen why aren't yohohou stohohohoping?!" 

He chuckled at the naivety shown before him, shifting so he faced the boy before he answered, "Did you forget why I came here in the first place?" Daisuke whined in response, brain short circuiting as he felt fingers drilling into his torso, letting out a scream at his uppermost rib was attacked. "Oh c'mohohohohOHAHAH -  CURLY! Quit ihihit! That tickles!" 

Curly shook his head slightly, seeing the intern's blush deepen upon saying the word. "Sorry, Daisuke. Swansea said you were being gloomy earlier. We can't have that now, can we?" Said boy threw his head back as Curly formed a vibrating claw against the space between his highest rib and armpit. He snorted loudly from the sensation, barely able to form coherent words. "OKAHAY, OKAY! I'LL CHEHEHEHER UHUP! PROMISE! I PROHOMIHIHISE!" Daisuke ended his plea with a wheeze, laughter getting more strained. Curly saw this as a sign to wrap things up, slowing his fingers until the tickling came to a full stop. He let go of the boy's hand, where it fell to his side as he curled into himself next to his captain.  

Curly once again rubbed the younger's back, hoping he didn't go too far as he giggled between gasps of air. Daisuke held his sides, still feeling the tingly sensation on his body. Once his breathing calmed down a bit, Curly decided to speak up, "Are you alright? I didn't do too much, right?" He received a head shake in return; the redness on the boy's neck showed he was too flustered to speak. 

"You really shouldn't be too hard on yourself, you know? Swansea cares for you. He doesn't show it much, but he really does. Sure, he gets mad sometimes, but that's just who he is. Like I said earlier, he's the one who came to me about you; he was worried sick!" Daisuke glanced up at Curly's speech, eyes widened slightly with curiosity. "To tell you the truth," the blonde continued, "his own kids moved out a while ago. I think he misses them; not like he'd ever admit that, though. I have a suspicion that you remind him of them. Gets his dad-gears turning. His fatherly instincts probably kicked in earlier when you set off the foam. Do you get what I'm trying to say?" 

Daisuke nodded his head, a tiny nervous smile on his face as he took in the confession. Did Swansea really feel that way? "Do you really think that's true?" Curly's gaze met his, flashing him a proud grin; "I know it's true! Don't tell him I said anything, though. He'd deny it to the moon and back." To this Daisuke breathed a sigh of relief, letting a small chuckle slip. He sat up from his ball-like position to fully face Curly, returning the smile. "Thanks, captain!" 

The captain felt his heart slightly melt at the sight of the joyous boy. Wrapping his arm around him for another side hug, rustling his hair with his other hand. "No worries! I'll always be here. As long as you keep that attitude at bay. Don't think I won't put you in check, young man." Curly poked his side as he finished, earning one last squeak from the previously giggly intern. Daisuke jumped out of the captain's arms before he could try anything again, dramatically taking a defensive stance. He winked in his silly pose. "No promises~" he sang as he walked backwards to the door. It automatically opened, causing him to turn around and jump slightly. Curly stifled a laugh as Daisuke turned around, face slightly dusted pink. He stormed off, grumbling as he left the cargo room for good. Curly giggled to himself, still sat on the stairs, reflecting on his crew and each of their colorful personalities. 

Yup, he was glad to be captain. 

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

hai guys ^-^ i hope yall enjoyed !!! i love daisuke sm hes my gf i love my gf ♡

~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~°☆°~~

[miriamladyvoid]

════⊹═════════════【〜⁎⁺❁⁺⁎〜】═══════════════⊹═══

My ask: I know the applications are closed but when they are open I would like a second part with: Silver, Sebek, Trey and Deuce. This section is too good to end like this, I hadn't laughed so hard all week (by the way good luck with your homework).

➸𝘍𝘜𝘙𝘉𝘈𝘓𝘓 𝘔𝘐𝘚𝘊𝘏𝘐𝘌𝘍 pt. 2

concept: [character] with s/o that has a very protective little brother!grim

characters: silver || sebek zigvolt || trey clover || deuce spade

disclaimers: reader is gender neutral || reader is yuu || fluff

𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐫

grim knows not to mess with lilia’s son, but he does it anyways cus yk, that’s what blue furballs do.

dudes just trying to sleep until grim harshly wakes him up. “did you know that you shouldn’t date prefect cus they’re ugly and they they don’t love you. wake up and break up” poor silver.

you once tried to cut his hair cus it was getting too long, just when you were about to cut his bangs grim just oh so coincidentally as under the table and accidentally burnt your shoe. what happened to silvers bangs that day? the kokoro + xingqiu effect.

he grew up with lilia’s cooking, so of course you love to cook for the boy, but with grim around? he literally puked in the stew you were cooking for silver.

grim makes letters to piss him off and signs them off with your name, silver doesn’t really read them and they get sent to lilia so rip to you both.

𝐬𝐞𝐛𝐞𝐤 𝐳𝐢𝐠𝐯𝐨𝐥𝐭

“you probably love malleus more than you love prefect” “HOW DARE YOU SAY TO THAT, I LOVE THE PREFECT A LOT.” say goodbye to your rights to hear cus this mans a humanized megaphone.

grim loves taunting him with malleus, he’s the exact reason of the trust issues in your relationship. grim loves torturing this man.

his favorite activity is hanging out in the botanical garden so there’s no doubt he loves to take you there to talk about your day. it all goes so well until grim appears behind one of the flowers and technically sets his hair on fire.

he likes to carry you around, he loves it actually. just carrying you and running around diasomnia is so fun. however, it is not fun when grim makes him trip which results to the both of you falling.

he helps you with your math homework, which you are very grateful for. but grim did not let that slide, burning the papers alongside the table you two were sitting at.

𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐲 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

grim tries a lot of things to get you two to break up. but this man literally has fucking plot armor cus HOW???

grim once broke a bag full of flour to pour on you two, it was a success, but not how it was supposed to be.

you two were under the flour laughing your asses off, a single moment of silence and suddenly you two were KISSING? he wanted to puke out a whole furball at that spot.

there has also been times where grim tried to dump paint over you and blame it on trey, but ace and deuce always has trey’s back because, well, he’s the only piece of hope in the whole heartslaybul dorm.

angry trey is terrifying. grim once tried to sabotage your soup -which you were very proud of - and got stuffed in the oven for like 3 hours cus of this man.

𝐝𝐞𝐮𝐜𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐝𝐞

he loves it when you paint the little spade mark on his face, it always seems to go wrong after grim ‘accidentally’ replaced the bottle with hot sauce.

he wants to be the honor student and your honor boyfriend, he has to be physically restrained to stop himself from choking the furballs outta grim.

he gets so red and shakes so much when you just tell him a simple “you’re eyes are so beautiful” after you leave grim just appears outta nowhere and cosplays mira kano for a bit “you know they didn’t mean that right”.

dude will come to your dorm in the middle of the night and go “hey i lost my bed, can i sleep in yours?” really tired grim just responds with “this is why prefect doesn’t love you”.

he got you cute matching necklaces with him for valentines day but did those ever last? hell no grim literally snatched and then swallowed them when he was just about to put it around your neck. good soup ong.

The original publication and writing belongs to @miliinmi (Post recovered) 31/12/22

════⊹═════════════【〜⁎⁺❁⁺⁎〜】═══════════════⊹═══

Banners created by miriamladyvoid© Feel free to use; please, reblog, and credit banners.

Language of the flowers of each Banner:

First Banner: Camellia Japonica: Platonic Love. Second Banner: Peach Blossom: Generosity. Third Banner: Gillyflower: Bonds of Affection.

[narcjsistx]

hii! I'm new to this platform and I haven't fully understood how it works yet... also, english is not my first language. but here are some headcanons <3

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

— Sanzu Haruchiyo in a relationship HCS ᡣ𐭩

If we talk about the Sanzu of the past, like when he was 15/16 years old, I think I can say that he is jealous, yes, but not like in the future. BEWARE BUT, jealous in matters related to other guys, with your friends he is relatively calm. maybe not to make a huge scene when happen, but just to tell you that he don't like what you're doing and maybe pull your sleeve

You introduced him to your parents, and they weren't exactly charmed by him. He was silent throughout the meeting and the only time he spoke was to whisper "shit" when the tray of sweets was about to fall. Your mother would love to get to know him better, because she believes that to be with you and treat you well he must necessarily be a good boy, while your father on the other hand... well, let's say he would make you leave him

SUPREME LOVER OF HUGS FROM BEHIND. YOU CAN'T TELL ME OTHERWISE

I think he's a guy who gives gifts often, but not actually "serious". not jewelry, things with a slightly higher price... nah, like letters written in an intimate moment or beads that he finds in senju's room in those few times he enters there

he has no intention of introducing you to takeomi. he doesn't want him to ruin another aspect of his life, his relationship. you already met senju but you didn't know she was his sister, you only found out later

He loves coming to your door after gang encounters. He loves seeing you worried when he's full of dried blood from his enemies, he finds you cute

Once it happened that, for fun, you took off his mask and kissed him. Congratulations, you've unlocked his favorite thing in the world. If you also add a kiss on one of the two scars or even both you can officially say you have driven him crazy

It took a long time for him to explain the reason behind his scars, really many months if not even a whole year. not because he didn't trust himself in telling it, but simply because he found it evidence of his lack of self-defense skills as a child. after he told you you cried a little for him, and that made him realize he told the right person. no one had been so interested in the issue to the point of getting emotional

He knows very well that initially you too mistook him for a female. Even though it bothers him a little, he likes to joke about it because, now, paradoxically, you have material proof that he is not a woman

[liloinkoink]

hey guys, someone just sent me a weird ass ask claiming my incredibly close friend cherri @cherrifire secretly hate me and is talking abt me behind my back. i was not the only person to get one of these identical slanderous asks. i’ve already blocked the anon but like. open letter to them, and for the benefit of anyone else who gets an ask like this….

1) anon, you’re genuinely fucking stupid

2) hysterical to send this when i was actively chatting w her, while we were in the process of fleshing out yet another renchanting au, something we have done all day every day for… gosh, how long has it been now? nearly two years? i would say that it was really bad timing to send this ask to me while i was actively chatting aus w her but there really isn’t any moment you could have sent this that i wouldn’t have been.

3) if you thought i wasn’t gonna call bullshit and snitch immediately you don’t know shit about me or cherri, which, granted, is evident by the ask in general, but you really are stupid

4) if a gc like this existed—which it does not, bc cherri is not like this and would not do this—i would be in it. this idiot doesn’t even know im cherri’s emotional support writer. do you have any idea how many gcs and servers she’s dragged me into w her.

5) get your facts right cherri talks shit about me to my face. this is mutual. fake ass fan. if you were a real cherri friend you would know this smh

6) no, actually, you’re right, she definitely hates me. that’s why i met her irl literally like 3 months ago on her invitation, we hung out for a genuine week, spent basically the whole time arm in arm or hand in hand. this is also why we were planning a second meetup last night. you idiot. you fool. you complete and utter moron

anyway, if anyone gets this ask:

it’s complete bullshit. theyre sending this to cherri’s best friends for some godforsaken reason. it’s very weird and deeply cringe. also incredibly poorly planned. idk how many ppl you sent this to, but a few of us are in a gc and we have been making fun of this ask for like an hour (anon, im one of cherri’s friends and she’s been telling a small group of friends about you— lol. lmao even)

anyway like. to reiterate. cherri’s one of my best friends, she’s absolutely lovely and i’m lucky every day to know her. we hang out and chat constantly and we’ve met irl and it was an incredible experience i would love to repeat. i have told her things i have not fuckin told anyone else and you could not otherwise waterboard out of me. i love talking to her all the time and i miss her when she’s busy for even like, an hour. i love writing w her and creating things w her. she’s an incredibly bright spot in my life, often the first person i think of upon waking and the last i think of before i sleep. she is kind and funny and i love her a lot.

i’m a bitch tho so like @ this anon go fuck yourself. you better hope that when you die that the devil finds you before i do. sending this ask to a bunch of our friends, trying to turn the people she cares about against her, and for what? you clearly don’t know her well enough to be talking like this. trying to ruin my friend’s reputation and friendships w a vague as hell and entirely baseless copy paste is super fucking weird. why would you do this? and like, do you think we were born yesterday to fall for this? i’m insulted for her for whatever it was you were trying to pull and i’m insulted on behalf of myself and everyone else you sent this to that you think we’re as stupid as you are. what is your damage. get a hobby.

[goatyuuji]

AND I AM BACK TO THE FIC REC GRIND BABY...Hope you enjoy them and give love to all the authors <3

Short fics:

he slips in to relieve the pain by weeb_grass (M, 3.3k, Complete)

Yuuji cannot sleep now that he's got another soul picking at him from within his own mind. Megumi keeps replaying the moment Sukuna ripped his friend's heart out. Both find ways to cope with the pain of emotional manipulation. "You stupid boy, Sukuna whispered into the deep crevices of Yuuji’s heart. You stupid, love-sick boy."

My Love Mine All Mine by darlingscurse (T, 8.1k, Complete)

“Not to worry, Yoshino,” Gojo announces brightly and while Megumi can’t see his eyes he feels them flicker to him for the smallest fraction of a second and something in his stomach drops. Oh no. “I just know what to do. Don’t you worry about that, your teacher has it all figured out!” Megumi opens his mouth, impending doom hanging over his head like a storm cloud, but by then it’s already too late, lightning has already struck. Gojo, the biggest ass in human history, flashes thumbs up in the round and then goes: “I’m sure our brightest little shikigami user would love to help you.” (or: Yuji comes back from the dead, comes back from the dead with a shiny new friend and Megumi is totally cool with that. Everything's peachy. Really.) PS: this one for all the people (me) who LOVEE Megumi absolutely loathing Junpei for no reason except the fact Yuuji befriends him (sorry Junpei)

kiss me not him by tamarsilan (T, 9.4k , Complete)

Still, her mouth had nearly hung open in shock at the news. “Junpei and I are dating,” Itadori had said with a smile on her face, holding up her and Yoshino’s intertwined hands. In their shared college dorm, Yoshino’s socked toes had dragged against their carpet, unsure. Fushiguro had been glad that she was sitting at the time. Between her hands the bunny-adorned coffee mug, Itadori had made her, threatened to shatter Or: Fushiguro Megumi and the five stages of grief

Conbini Kisses by Anonymous (T, 2.1k, Complete)

Itadori’s anger, Megumi can deal with. His silence, however, is torture. ————— Now they’ve reconnected, Fushiguro and Itadori have a much needed conversation.

The Brotherly Code by awkwardtypeos (T, 2.8k, Complete)

He sighs heavily, and looks his best friend dead in the eye, and finally delivers the news. “You cannot court Fushiguro. He is not worthy of you. I must ask you to put a stop to this.” Itadori blinks at him once, twice, several times, and then absolutely squawks, high-pitched and certainly not manly, “W-what do you mean? Todo that’s-that’s none of your business!"

sweet disposition by Nicolefrickle (T, 3.1k, Complete)

Itadori needs touched, and Megumi needs to heal

Long Fics:

you may bury my body by movequickly (M, 32.9k, Complete)

In all the worst ways, Yuji is just like Suguru. PS: I could not sleep for 3 whole days after reading this...this fic is intense i won't lie, the gojo and yuuji scenes are hard to swallow, gojo and geto scenes even more but all in all this also feels like a love letter to Yuuji

Saving You by earthtodora (T, 73k, Ongoing)

Yuji dies in the battle against Sukuna in Shinjuku. When he wakes up in the infirmary, he finds that he's in the past, before the events of the Culling Game, and the Shibuya Incident. Yuji must try to avoid making the same mistakes, and find a way to defeat the King of Curses and save the people he cares about. But first, he must find a way to deal with his own trauma and come to terms with the future he left behind. --- "Sensei," Yuji spoke up suddenly, snapping Gojo out of his thoughts. Gojo looked over at him. "Yes, Yuji?" "I want you to kill me."

tears of a tiger (there is no night without dawn) by rugbratz (T, 53.9k, Completed)

Yuuji understands that most people in his situation would be excited for the promise of tomorrow and what it may bring. But that’s not him. Yuuji can’t even begin to explain the conglomeration of emotions that he feels, but he knows that all of them are horrible and that he’s not ready. He never is.

[citrusandcyanide]

Can't Lose You | L.G.

Part 2

Pairing: Lip Gallagher x f!Reader

an. Okay this part is a lot shorter than I expected just cause I think it was a good place to end the scene. I got more coming, but this had to stand on its own. I forgot to mention in the last part that I changed Lips college to UChicago instead of Chicago Polytechnic. Also Thank you for the kind messages and reblogs!!! They really motivate me to write and put out chapters quicker. Thank you for the love <3333

Synopsis. Lip doesn't want to go to college unlike his best friend who has her mind set on leaving Chicago and her feelings for Lip behind. Lip won't let her leave so easily.

words. 1.2k

Warnings. Drinking. angst, swearing. idk clutch your pearls.

Part 1 Part 3 (Final)

“Berkeley…” Lip said as he held the acceptance letter in his hand. “California.” 

“Cali-fucking-fornia,” You said with a grin, giggling a bit from the beers. You had gone through more than a few. You were tipping over the edge of tipsy. Lip was going at a much slower pace. You were laying down on his bed while he was sitting on the edge of it. His eyes kept scanning over the paper. His expression was bare. You were too gone to care what he was thinking. “I fucking did it. I’m fucking out of here. All that work, fuck… I was hoping it would do something but I didn’t think it would.I got in. to BERKELEY. THE UC BERKELEY.”

“I’m proud of you, kid,” Lip applauded, but his voice didn’t show any enthusiasm . You stood up to grab the letter from him. Only then did you notice his clenched jaw and dissociated expression. You stared at him until he looked over. He straightened his back and handed you the letter. “I’m sorry it’s just far.” 

“Yeah that’s the point: Far. Away. Not here,” You replied, rolling your eyes. You knew he would do this, but you thought he would at least try and pretend to be happy for you. This was all you had been wanting, a life outside of Chicago. But he couldn’t bring himself to entertain the idea for a moment. He wasn’t going to let you leave easy. 

“What about the, uh–what’s it called? The institute. ISA something,” Lip asked. You interrupted him briefly to correct him before he continued.  “That’s a perfectly good option.” 

“Why? I told you I don’t want to stay here,” You sighed and fixed your position on the bed so you were fully facing him. 

“Yeah but is it really that bad here? It’s not sunshine and rainbows but it’s fine. It’s not like Berkeley is gonna be any different,” He said, looking at you fully. There was something behind his eyes you couldn’t quite place. Like a part of him was offended you wanted to leave. You didn’t like it. 

“There isn’t anything left for me here.” The excitement left your voice. You stated it plainly. It was a fact. There wasn’t. Lip wasn’t yours. Lip had never been and never would be. You had no other attachment to Chicago than him. You waited long enough for something that wouldn’t happen. Lip scoffed. 

“We’re here. Our friendship, us,” Lip said, pain evident in his voice. He was taking it personally that you were ignoring the fact he was here. He didn’t realize he was exactly the reason you needed to leave. “Is it selfish of me to say that I don’t want you to leave me behind?”

“You have your own ticket out. You are personally capable of leaving on your own,” You quickly replied. It hurt you having to justify your reason for leaving to your best friend when he’s known how important it’s meant for you this whole time. He couldn’t be happy for you for a moment without thinking of what it meant for himself and his life. 

“I’m not going to fucking Boston,” He replied offended, shaking his head in disgust. 

“There’s nothing keeping you here. That’s your choice,” You argued back. You weren’t going to let him paint himself out to be the victim. He had equal the chance to leave Chicago behind and start something good for himself. You wanted that for him. You desperately wanted to see him succeed and find happiness outside of what your current life had to offer. He just couldnt see the same for you.

“You’re keeping me here. We– Us,” Lip turned fully to face you. His eyes pierced deep into yours. It didn’t sound like an excuse. He said it and you could tell he actually believed it. It was the first time in years that he was admitting that a part of him needs you in his life. He cared about having you with him. He cared that you grew up together. That you were his other half, but it was delusional to believe the two of you hadn’t been growing apart. And whatever this is was a plea to hold on to what was left. 

“Stop repeating that as if it was a thing. There hasn’t been an us in years,” Your voice was stern. 

“But there can be. Me at UChicago, you at SAIC. a few miles away from eachother,” Lip put a hand on your knee. “I haven’t been fair to you or your feelings and I know what I said before but not having you here is so much worse—” 

“Don’t bring my feelings into this.” You winced. You shut your eyes in an attempt to control your emotions. 

“It’s not just yours,” He argued. 

“Stop.” You kept your eyes closed. 

“They’re mine too.” You felt the bed move under you as he inched closer to where you were sitting. 

“Stop.” 

 “I love you–” You cut him off before he could finish. 

“Don’t say that. You don’t want me. I know how this will go,” You said opening your eyes. The alcohol had made you dizzy but your head was as clear as day. You’re heart was pulling you towards him and it made you angry. “ You’ll keep me here and play with someone else’s heart instead cause you think it’s kinder than to do it to me, but you are playing with my heart. All of this is hurting me. You’re hurting me.” 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” He reached his hand out towards you. You quickly pulled it away. 

“You can’t help it,” You spat back. Tears threatened to fall from your eyes as your rage began bubbling instead you. 

“You don’t know what you’re saying.” He shook his head and tried to reach for your hand again. You held your own close to your chest. Clenching your shirt over your pounding heart.

“You don’t love me.” With each of his words you felt your walls being chipped away. 

“I do,” His voice sounded like he was pleading. 

“You don’t want me.” You were convincing yourself, not Lip. He was your weakness. He always was.  

“Y/n, if you stay I’m yours.” 

The world stopped. As you looked at the boy in front of you, your walls broke. He won. Lip gets what he wants and he wants you to stay. To give up the dream you had been working so hard for and you were about to. He was offering you another dream.

“Let me be yours… please,” He pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper. Your hand fell into his. He gently pulled you forward to him, closer and closer until your noses touched. You closed your eyes. His lips touched yours. How could you ever say no to Lip Gallagher?

~~~~

an. poor Mandy lol

[silasours]

% 1 ━ Yours Deerly, A .

#chapters : [ previous | next ] #cw : your unique soul that piqued the great alastor's interest; he decided to write letters just for you until you finally reach hell. alastor x gn reader. may include adult themes and mild swearing. #note : quick thank you to @sea-bunniii for helping me with the fic title :3 this is the series I talked about, lmk if you'd like to be tagged! enjoy.

there is nothing around you but darkness for as long as you can remember now.

you never really understood what was happening; you tried pulling yourself out of this pitch-black surrounding but failed. you tried to speak but can't seem to utter a word from your parted lips. you rely on your hearing to keep track of your surroundings, but there's something in particular to note after quite some time. there were times when a strange, muffled radio static voice rang through your ears, words never clear enough for you to comprehend what it was trying to say. times when you'd see a blurred figure standing before you, but never clear enough for even a rough appearance, let alone a name.

millions of possibilities would run through your mind endlessly about them. is this a message for you, or are you just gradually losing your mind and hallucinating? you often try your best to push those thoughts aside while listening to the people around you who talk about your condition. but that, too, didn't bring you any good news. every day you would hear about how your life is merely hanging by a thin thread, that they might lose you any minute as they speak.

you mentally sigh, hoping that death would just swallow you up whole now instead of taking its sweet time. maybe by then, you'll finally gain your freedom back.

"hm." the radio demon squints his eyes slightly, his fingers tapping rhythmically on the thin cane he holds. yet another failed attempt. he lifts a hand from the cane and opens his palm, an eerily green glow appears on top until it forms a certain line of words. "looks like this little soul is back in the human world for the time being."

it has been a month since alastor took notice of your soul. your soul that affected him ever so slightly whenever you traveled from the human world and back; it felt like something was lurking in his surroundings when your soul arrived at hell. he ignored it for a couple days, brushing it off as something uninteresting until it lasted for more than a week. with curiosity, he tries his best to wrap his aura around this thing he has been feeling.

noting that it was your soul he was observing, his curiosity grew. your soul would arrive in hell without being in an actual body and find its way to return to the human world. there was not a single effect cast on it, as if it's just a normal travel through countries and cities. nothing like this has ever happened in the underworld, not to alastor's knowledge at least.

as an overload who claims multiple souls, he naturally tried to claim yours as well after seeing the potential of it benefitting him. he tried to insert his voice and appearance into your soul and communicate with you once it returns to your body in the human world, but he failed every time. no matter how many times he improvised his ways, your soul rejects him without struggle.

annoyance started fueling him, yet it is also the sole reason why he has grown more interested in your unique soul. never has he ever struggled this much to obtain a mere soul; usually it could be done with just a snap of his fingers, yet all he could do to your soul is observe and know the place it's in through the aura that he managed to wrap it in.

keeping his head upright, he opens the door of the room that he claimed as his. closing the door behind him, alastor smoothes out his coat while walking down the dimly lit hallway of the hotel. the heel of his shoes thud against the carpet he walks on, chattering gradually growing louder from afar. the light grew brighter down the hallway he passed by until he reached the staircase, now able to view everyone at the main compartment of the hotel from above.

he takes his time walking down the steps, the sound of his heels catches the attention of the blond woman - charlie. her smile grew at the sight of alastor, hurriedly grabbing a small stack of papers from the long table and jogging toward him. alastor widens his smile, tapping on his cane while standing in place.

"why hello there, my friend! you seem busy, what could you possibly be working on?" he watches as charlie clumsily flips through the papers, a slight frown scrunched on her forehead until she finds the paper she needs. she smoothes the paper, turning it to alastor so he's able to read the contents clearly. she clears her throat before speaking.

"alastor, hi! well, you see, is it alright if i ask you for a small, tiny favor?" she seems hesitant to ask judging from her tone.

"why of course! ask away and i shall consider."

"great!" charlie returns to her usual bubbly self, quickly scanning the paper to look for the specific content she needs to show the radio demon. "here, take a look at this. it says here that it's required to write a letter for the request of a big stock sent to our location. and i'm, well.." her hand stretches to scratch the back of her neck nervously, an awkward smile on her face.

"i'm not so good with letters." she tries to relieve her own awkwardness with a chuckle, but it seems it did nothing but made it worse. "i was wondering if you could.. help out with the letters? just this once! I've heard how good you are with words when it comes to letters. please? i don't really have anyone else to ask." charlie gazes at alastor, her eyes shining with hope as her hands clutch tightly onto the papers.

alastor laughs. "i would love to, my dear! it is but mere letters, nothing i can't handle." he extends an arm towards charlie, his fingers stretched out with his palm facing upwards; a gesture to accept the papers and help. the woman excitedly places the papers onto his hand, his fingers now folded to hold the papers firmly. his eyes briefly look through the documents with a small nod of his head. "consider it done. fear not! I'll be able to finish this by dinner."

"thank you so much, alastor!" charlie flashes him a grateful smile before jogging off, feeling relieved without having to worry about finishing something she's not particularly good at. alastor's gaze fall onto the papers he holds, something molding and forming in his head; an idea. he hums to himself as he dives into deep thought, paying no mind to his surrounding for the time being.

if he, the great alastor isn't able to physically reach out to your little soul, there ought to have nothing else that will be able to achieve that as well. though, leaving messages until you physically arrive in hell may help him accomplish his goal. as one first falls into hell, they often get hit by a strong sense of confusion and even panic. if he takes advantage of the emotion you may hold, luring you in with a false sense of security, things will certainly go smoothly and result in success.

his thoughts abruptly got interrupted by vaggie's voice yelling from the kitchen, demanding for everyone to have lunch now that it's all prepared. instead of walking forward, alastor turns around and starts walking up the very same stairs he just walked down minutes ago. he rarely joins them for any group activity; it's only common to see him joining them if the event will benefit him in any way.

a small tune is audible from him humming as he walks, the papers that were once held by him vanish in a split second, leaving behind small traces of dark green sparkles around the area. the chattering grows soft once again the further he walks from the stairs, now walking down the hallway until the familiar door is in his range of view. using the very same aura to push the door open, he enters his room as the door shuts itself behind him.

walking towards his neat working desk, alastor's heart pounds against his chest from the clear idea he has in his head. he sets his cane aside carefully, allowing it to lean against the desk before pulling the plush chair from the elegantly carved table. he sits on the chair, papers and calligraphy pen appearing with a simple snap of his clawed fingers. paying no mind to the letter he should be working on for charlie, the pen straightens from the table by itself and starts scribbling words onto the blank sheet of paper.

he completely sets his focus on the letter he plans to write for you. it's been a while since he picked up his favorite pen to handwrite a letter for someone, the feeling stirs something in his chest. is it excitement? or is it nervousness? even alastor doesn't understand himself. brushing the thought aside, he lowers the pen until the tip comes in contact with the paper lying flat on the surface of the desk. the paper he chose is a special one; it's vintage, like an old paper that has been left sitting in the drawer for years.

it has a sense of familiarity in it, providing comfort in an odd way to alastor. it almost felt like he was writing love letters for someone he doesn't know at all. ink flows from the pen and onto the paper, the small glob of black ink weakly reflecting light from the desk lamp he has. cautiously, he glides the pen across the paper; every stroke and every curve of the words gradually form a sentence, and then a whole paragraph.

he would pause from time to time, digging for the correct words to write in his brain. it was unexpected to even the demon himself, to think that someone like him would spend this much effort for a mere letter. it took almost half an hour for him to finish his first letter to you, signing his name at the bottom with a content heart.

his eyes scan through every word he wrote, reading everything all over again until he confirms that it has no mistake. his fingers reach out to grab the envelope beside him, sliding the neatly folded paper into it. feeling satisfied with his work, alastor seals the letter with wax that has the shape of a radio pressed onto the top.

he holds the letter; it has a color of deep shade red along with a couple of drawn-on flowers. he pulls the drawer that's seated on the lower left of the desk open, revealing an empty compartment. alastor places the sealed letter in the drawer, pushing it back in until there's a click signaling that the drawer is fully closed. he glances at the letter he promised to finish for charlie, finding it now neatly lying on the desk without a single movement.

alastor exhales lightly from his mouth, allowing his back to lean against the chair with his head tilted back. he feels his muscles relax despite never realizing they were tensed before this, eyelids falling, shutting until he sees nothing but darkness.

"ah.. such troubles i need to go through for this little soul."

© silas ( @silasours ). all rights reserved. every work posted on this account belongs to me, and only me. please refrain from reposting, plagiarizing, translating, or reproducing my work in any form possible.

[pinespinespinespinespines]

Part 3 continuation of the Fiddlestan au i was babbling about in part 1 +2: this post

the Stan visits Fidds [and Ford] at Backupsmore AU:

And so, Stanley is once again on the road, up to his usual shenanigans, yet there was one difference between his last departure from Backupsmore college and this one: Fiddleford, upon Stan's reappearance from the first runaway stunt, gave him his dormitory's mailing address on a sticky note. Stan almost threw it away multiple times, but couldn't bring himself to.

Two months pass before Fiddleford checks his mailbox to find an envelope without a return address. It's a letter from Stanley, who tells him that he won't be returning, and apologizing again for bothering them. The handwriting was messy and the paper wrinkled, making Fidds wonder if he was drunk writing it. He's also troubled by the fact that this was likely sent from a public mailbox, implying Stan was still homeless. Without an address to send a reply to, Fiddleford is left quietly stuffing the letter in a drawer.

Ford was tense with Fidds for a while after the Stan incident, but eventually accepts it as his roommate just being too friendly as usual. He feels kind of bad about punching his brother, but he also justifies it in his mind and focuses on classes instead. Three more months pass, and the pair of college boys finish for the summer, but neither are going home because they're in the last half of their first PhD degree- just because classes are on break doesn't mean they don't have their massive thesis projects to work on. However, the temporarily lessened workload gives Ford more time for his thoughts to wander, and he grows more guilty about Stan as time passes.

Stanley sends another short letter to Fidds later that fall, telling him that he's alive and doing fine, because "you always worry too damn much and I don't want that on my conscious" He also adds a blank postcard from New Orleans. Fiddleford puts those in the drawer too, telling himself that hes keeping them for Ford some day when he's not so messed up over his brother.

Fidds misses hanging out with Stanley, but he's also a pretty social guy- he has friends, goes to parties, has his classwork, and generally keeps busy and is just fine, if not a bit worried over his roommates sibling when he occasionally comes to mind.

After a college party one night, (one that Fiddleford actually convinced Ford to attend!) the boys return drunk to their room and for some reason, Ford admits that he was probably wrong to punch Stan. "Probably??" and Fiddleford tells him that's great and all, but if you want to tell him that, it's not going to be easy, then shows Ford the letter Stan had sent months ago that says he's not returning. Ford drunkenly cries, and Fiddleford comforts him, but the next morning Ford denies the entire thing. (Although keeps the letter and postcard).

At this point, Stan is starting to try out a multi-level marketing scam, which goes sour because he tricked a whole conference of people into signing up to buy 20 knives each. In hindsight, he should have picked something less dangerous to sell, but what's done is done- he's alive, mostly unscathed, and skipping that town with suitcases of cash. Before running off, Stan told the angry people that their money had already been sent to his boss. If any of those people find the truth and decide to come after him, he was toast.

If only he could drop off the multiple cases of cash across the country somewhere safe, so that he could lay low for a while somewhere without having to worry about them being stolen back if he was caught.

He really should've thrown away that sticky note ages ago.

Fiddleford gets the letter right as winter ends, asking him to meet Stanley behind a nearby gas station corner store at a certain date and time- an evening only days away. Relieved to see the letter and assuming the new meet-up spot was so that Ford wouldn't bump into or see him, Fidds does as the letter asks.

He's not happy, to say the least, when Stanley sheepishly begins asking if Fiddleford can keep a few of his things stored for a couple of months, and those "things" end up being multiple suitcases that Stan doesn't want him to open.

Fidds tells Stan that he will only consider keeping the luggage for him if he knows what's inside, and Stan relents, desperate. Fidds' jaw drops at the thousands of dollars that must be stuffed into those bags. Stan tells him he can have some of it for himself if he helps out with this, and Fiddleford immediately drags Stan into his car so that he can yell at him without attracting attention.

Stan tries to argue that he earned this money legally and gradually, and that he just doesn't want to travel with this much cash on him when he doesn't have a place to live that isn't his car. Fiddleford isn't sure whether to believe him, and Stan withers at his hesitation, realizing that he might be ruining the one good connection he still has to his brother.

Instead of answering, Fiddleford keeps scolding Stan about finding a place to live and taking care of himself, because he knows that as long as he hasn't actually taken the money from him, he won't run away.

And this gives Fiddleford an idea.

"I will keep yer money for you, on one condition."

"Whats that?" Stan asks nervously.

"Buy a lease for an apartment here in town with some of that cash, and then I will take the rest from you and store it in my dorm. Unless you want to keep it in your new place."

Stan tries to negotiate- Take the money now, and I'll buy the apartment tomorrow- but it doesn't work, Fiddleford doesn't trust him and rightfully so.

And so Stanley thinks through his two options: leave now without giving Fidds the money, and continue running away on his own with thousands in cash in the trunk - or - buy an apartment lease near Backupsmore and face the consequences of all his money going down the drain in rent and bill payments if he can't find a steady job.

Which he's almost never been able to do. Stan's about to open his mouth and tell him goodbye when Fiddleford speaks again.

"Ford regrets hitting you."

A brief pause. "...He does?"

"He does. He told me."

After a few seconds of blinking at Fidds in disbelief, Stan takes a shaky breath.

"Okay... Yeah. Yeah, I'll look for a place tomorrow."

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 9

Yay!! Another chapter of this lovely chronicle. I really do recommend going back and re-reading a bit since it's been so long.

But in this we have Harrington Sr. being an ass, the most epic confrontation I've ever written, and Dustin being sweet and asshole at the same time. The kid has range.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

****

Late at night in the last days before the school ended, they would climb up on the roof of the trailer and talk about their hopes and dreams.

Eddie had told him that he was going to try third time lucky to graduate. And then if he didn’t make it next year, he’d take the GED and walk away, ready to join Steve wherever he was. Not that he wanted to leave Eddie behind or the kids. But if he was to go to college, he’d have to.

Steve walked across that stage to thunderous applause, all his friends, the kids, Eddie and Wayne all cheering for him. Even Nancy and Jonathan had been there to cheer him on. But there, in the stands frowning at the people Steve had surrounded himself with, were his parents.

Steve knew he should feel grateful that they came at all. But he knew it was more about image and appearing to be the perfect parents than any actual interest. He saw them clap politely and then his father pulled out a newspaper and his mother fussed with her hair and makeup the whole time.

They took pictures with him afterwards with fake smiles plastered on and took him out to dinner to talk about his future. Which was all about joining the company and getting his business degree. Two things that Steve had no interest in doing.

He had hoped to get scholarships for college based on his sports so that he wouldn’t have to rely on his dad’s money, but that fell through.

He had missed the early decision deadline, because he had had his head smashed in. So he had sent the applications off at the start of the new year. But by then his grades had slipped due to the concussion and the letters coming back weren’t a good sign.

He would just have to try and reason with his dad about college and keep his fingers crossed he’d get out of this town somehow.

****

“These are your grades?” Mr. Harrington bellowed. “How are you supposed to get into good colleges and universities with these?”

The first week of June was not a good week, ever, in Steve’s opinion. It was when grades were mailed out and he had to listen to the screaming for a full week.

“I had that concussion in the middle of the year, remember?” Steve asked. “That set my grades back a bit. But I thought I would take a year of community college and build my grades back up to get into the better schools.”

“No son of mine is going to a state school!” Mr. Harrington roared. “And you can forget about that summer internship at the company! I will not have tell others that you didn’t get into a proper school.”

Steve could feel his stomach sink to the base of spine. He didn’t like where this was going. At all.

“You will get a job,” Mr. Harrington continued to menace. “I don’t mean some cushy life guard bullshit where you sit in some high tower, looking pretty, either. A real job. Retail. Build character.”

“But I already told Mr. Jones at the community center that I would lifeguard again this summer,” Steve protested.

“You go back there and tell him you have better things to do with your time!” Mr. Harrington shouted. “That new mall opened up. Starcourt. You’ll find something there.” He leaned forward into Steve’s space. “Do I make myself clear?”

Steve gulped, but nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Good.”

Mr. Harrington turned on his heel and stormed back into his office. Mrs. Harrington stood at the edge of the room, almost swaying on her feet as she would move forward to comfort Steve, but then would change her mind. Back and forth.

Steve pinched his nose and rubbed the end. He looked up at her with dead eyes. “He’ll keep moving the goal posts. You know he will.”

This time she did surge forward. “You know it’s not like that. He only wants what’s best for you.”

“Best for me?” Steve murmured, barely holding back the tears. “Or what will make him look the best? Because I’m tired, Mom.”

“It’s hard,” Mrs. Harrington said, rubbing his arm gently. “But come autumn he’ll see how well you did and maybe he’ll let you try for the state school.”

Steve knew it was a lie or whatever that she was telling herself more than she was tell him.

He pinched and rubbed his nose, forcing back the tears. He wasn’t going to cry in front of either of his parents. It only enraged his father and prompted mocking from his mother.

Oh, she hid it under the guise of ‘tough love’ but it was all tough and no love.

He thought of Wayne and Eddie. Of how they didn’t have a lot of material possessions but they had each other and their love for each shone brightly.

Steve held up his chin and nodded. Then he grabbed his keys and wallet, forcing on his shoes.

“Where are you going?” his mother huffed. “Storming off like that after a fight with your father is so childish, Steven.”

Steve turned to her slowly and blinked. “To talk to Mr. Jones about not being able to lifeguard this year and go job hunting at the mall like Dad wants?”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re always so dramatic, Steven. I suppose that was why you took so well to it. Of course, if you had any real talent you would have gotten a more substantial role.”

He squeezed his hand around his keys, the ridges digging into his palm, as he fought down the bile that rose to his throat.

“I’ll be back for dinner,” Steve said through gritted teeth. He rushed out the door, careful not to slam it behind him.

He drove out to the community center and hit his steering wheel over and over as he cursed out his parents until he was exhausted.

He sighed and got out the car, making his way to front desk. “Hey, Janis, is Mr. Jones in today?”

Janis smiled at him. “Sure thing, sweetie. Just go on back.”

Steve caught Mr. Jones as he was coming back to his office.

“Hey, Steve!” Mr. Jones said cheerfully, coming up to him with a big smile. “You here for your schedule?”

Steve shook his head. “My dad didn’t like my grades and told me I had to get a real job. Sorry.”

“Shit, Steve, I’m sorry,” Mr. Jones said crumpling. “And there’s no chance he’ll let you do both?”

“No,” Steve said bitterly. “If he finds out I’m working here he’ll beat my ass. I wanted to come back, but I guess my dad had other plans.”

“Well, well,” a cruel voice said behind them, “it looks like you have an opening after all, Mr. Jones.”

Steve and Mr. Jones turned toward the voice slowly, knowing with complete dread who it was.

Billy Hargrove was leaning against the wall, arms folded and a giant smirk on his face.

“Looks like your loss is my gain, Harrington,” he said coolly.

Steve rolled his eyes. “Story of my life since you rolled into town, Hargrove. You stole my friends, the captain of the basketball team, hell you probably would have stolen my girl if she liked jocks instead of tortured artists or some shit. It ain’t new.”

“You’re just bitter that I’m the superior you in every way,” Billy said with a sneer. “The sooner you admit it, the less heartache you’ll have, pretty boy.”

Steve threw back his head and laughed. “I have other talents, asshole. I can draw, I can act, and I can fucking swim. While you were out there fucking anything with a pussy that would let your scaly ass, I was beating records and making it to nationals as part of our swim team. You are just some washed up surfer in desperate need a wave. I am a swimmer.”

He nodded to Mr. Jones who had a smug smile on his face.

Billy was taken aback. “So you do have a spine. Huh. I would have never guessed it. Not with Max and Munson doing your dirty work for you.”

Steve got right up in Billy’s face. “I didn’t go after you, dipshit,” his voice low and menacing. Quiet enough that only he could hear. “Because I just wanted to graduate. But now that I have that diploma, I’m more than ready throw hands with you. Plus we all know I had you against the ropes until you cheated by smashing a plate to my head.”

He patted Billy’s chest and waving goodbye to Mr. Jones, he walked out of there, chin held high.

****

Steve had gathered somewhere around a dozen or so applications to the stores that surrounded him and sat down in the food court to fill them out. His eyes were starting to go cross-eyed when Dustin came up to him and sat down across from him.

“Dude,” Dustin greeted. “What’s all this shit?”

Steve looked up at him and sighed. “Job applications. My dad wants me to get a summer job.”

“But you have a summer job,” Dustin replied with a frown. “The rec center. You’re a lifeguard.”

Steve sighed again and shook his head. “My dad was pissed that I only got into a couple of schools and not the good ones.”

Dustin frowned and tilted his head to the side. “Is that because of what happened with Billy?”

“That’s part of it,” Steve agreed. “But I was really counting on a sports scholarship and with how shitty everything got I didn’t get a single one.”

“But you went to nationals with your swimming though,” the gap-toothed kid grumbled.

Steve put down his pen and planted his hands on either side of his applications. “Look, bud, I get that you think you’re trying to help or whatever but my team came in last at nationals. In everything. No scout was going to give us so much as a passing glance. No sports scholarship plus missing the early acceptance deadline and having to wait for regular admissions means that I’m on a waiting list for most of the good schools, didn’t get in to the decent schools, and my dad won’t let me go to the community college. So here I am doing the best I can, okay?”

Dustin pouted but gave up on pushing the issue. He grabbed the applications and began looking through them.

“Hey!” Steve cried trying to get them back, but Dustin kept dodging him.

He set down three applications. “You can put in for all of if you want, but I’d focus on these three.” Scoops Ahoy, The Gap, and Shapiro’s.

Steve picked them and looked at them. “Why?”

“Those are going to be the ones that kids aren’t going to want to try for,” Dustin said. “And you have to get this job because of your dad. These are more likely to hire you.” He pointed to the ice cream shop. “That one is your best bet.”

Steve nodded. That was one he had been expecting to get too.

“So when are you leaving to nerd camp?” he asked, taking the applications from the kid.

“It’s called Camp Know Where,” Dustin scoffed. “Know as in k-n-o-w where. It’s really cool.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “That still doesn’t tell me when you’re going, dork.”

“Oh!” Dustin said, eyes wide. “Tomorrow. My mom is buying me the things I’ll need so I can leave bright and early.”

Steve’s expression softened. “I’m going to miss you, you know?”

Dustin nodded back. “I’m going to miss you, too.”

Someone called his name and he looked up. “It looks like my mom’s calling me. Good luck on the job search.”

Steve stood up and gave him a hug. “Have fun, okay?”

Dustin nodded and ran to catch up to his mom as Steve went back to his applications with a sigh. He really was going to miss that butthead.

****

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

Tag List: ELEVEN SLOTS OPEN

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @blondie1006

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @angels-of-hades

7- @mugloversonly @y4r3luv @greeniebean911 @birbsauce @acingthecounts

8- @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars @ravenfrog @dreamercec

[pray-montana]

as a fellow Maxime Le Mal enjoyer, i was wondering if you had any specific ideas/headcanons about him? any predictions for the film (beyond the FUN stuff some of the toys/shots from the trailers have hinted at 😉)? would love to hear your thoughts :3c

Hi! Thanks for your question. Now I finally got my thoughts together👏

Well, I'll start with the serious part:

First of all, I saw a similarity between him and me: when one is filled with self-confidence, one easily steps into the spotlight, hits one's opponent with a sharp tongue, etc.

But this behavior also has the other side of the coin, which was mentioned even by Renaud and Ferrell themselves: behind the feigned affectation and bright charisma, there is a huge lack of self-confidence. Renaud spoke about an incident that happened to Maxime in high school but did not reveal details. (I think those who have already delved into the lore of Maxime Le Mal will guess what we're talking about.) He tries in every possible way to hide his inner demons, showing this with his clothes, his self presentation, and even the fact that he hooked up with the most beautiful girl in his high school. It seems to me that, first of all, he proves to everyone and himself that he's not a loser, while all Gru does is convince the whole world of the opposite. Ferrell promises that Maxime is a very deep character, and even called him "the most despicable" in one of his recent videos, and the others agreed with him. And, I think, in the end, being extremely angry at Gru and blaming him for all the troubles will not play into his hands...

And now let's have some fun🤌

1. I think he styles his hair every day, hiding the cockroach antennae beneath his hair, and from time to time he checks with his fingers whether they've come out and pushes them back in.

2. He doesn't drive his giant ship for some stupid reason. Afraid of driving? Hypersensitivity? Being distracted by something more interesting while driving? In any case, Valentina simply rolled her eyes and took the driving into her own hands without trying to correct his behavior.

3. In the gas station scene, we see how quickly Maxime explodes if things don't go according to plan. I can imagine the apocalypse that would begin in his home if he didn’t find a sock or ran out of hairspray...🔥🔥🔥

4. His hyperfixation on the topic of cockroaches is also a reflection of his emotions and insecurities. He proves that he accepts himself and makes it his thing. My favorite quote: “Don’t kill the cringe part of yourself. Kill the part that cringes.”

5. He feels really sick from dichlorvos. No need to sprinkle it next to Maxime

6. Venus flytraps too. He'll stick his finger in there because the flower "smells too good and he had to try it"😭

7. He has beautiful, calligraphic handwriting that is impossible not to read hearing his voice. The letters he wrote in Valentine cards for VALENTINA will melt anyone because he's a master of words.

8. He is friends with insects, like Snow White with animals. Just as saccharine as she is. (If he sings a song to them, will they run around him???)

9. His pet cockroach is part of their family.

10. Most likely, he needed a cane for some time due to health reasons, but now it’s just a feature.

[hikarry]

Girl, sit down. I'm about to slap you with another imagine

*claps hands*

Ready?

Imagine: 1802, Russia. Czar Alexander I in power

Crowley infiltrated the palace as a war General.

A maid just handed him an envelope while he was walking around the gardens, and he was quick to open it with his finger. It was Aziraphale's, from Soho, London. A long one, as they usually were.

He scanned it quickly, just taking the general idea - he would read more calmly when he was home, by himself, and not feeling like he was being watched.

At the end of the second page, finally, something actually caught his attention. Aziraphale was going to Krasnaya Polyana, around a day away from Moscow. Apparently, there had been a spike of demonic activity there, and Heaven had sent him to investigate. He was asking if Crowley had anything to do with it, but he clearly didn't. He had been stuck in Moscow for 7 months now. But, alas, he also had no idea who it could be. He was not informed that another demon was topside in this region. And, for some reason, the angel going to the encounter of an unknown demon was not sitting well with him. He folded the letter and hid it in his jacket's pocket.

Aziraphale was a big angel. He could look out for himself... yet that did not mean Crowley couldn't try and find out who was causing mayhem in Krasnaya Polyana, did it?

As soon as Crowley got home that night, he wrote a quick note to one of his contacts in Hell, asking for information and readied himself to wait for at least 3 days before he got an answer. Surprisingly, it took only a night. When he woke up, there was a small note on his bedside table. He picked it up and turned it around, reading quickly. He sucked in a sharp breath before re-reading the note, just to make sure he was understanding correctly.

Asmodeus was topside. Along with Vine. A Prince and a Duke of Hell, and Aziraphale was walking right to the lion's mouth by himself.

Right. Okay.

Crowley read it one last time before burning it in his hands.

He had to find an excuse to get himself sent to Krasnaya Polyana as soon as possible, preferably before Asmodeus and Vine caught Aziraphale's scent around. The angel might be an ex-cherubim, but Satan knew what a real Prince of Hell could do to him and Crowley was surely not going to sit in the sidelines to find out.

A week and a half later - way way later than he expected - he got himself in Krasnaya Polyana. As soon as he got out of the train, he was hit with the smell of sulfur and a heavy feeling of evil all around.

With no bags to carry or to worry about, he just closed his eyes and reached out for Aziraphale's essence. He could feel it, barely. If his senses weren't mistaken, he was somewhere in the mountain.

Could Crowley help it, he wanted to avoid meeting both the Prince and the Duke. He only hoped Aziraphale was still off their tracks.

It was snowing heavily. The mountain was covered in ice, and the wind was frigid and white, somehow. It made it very, very hard to see or even focus enough to grasp Aziraphale's essence and keep following it.

His boots sank in the snow, and it didn't take long for his legs to start hurting and his insides to feel raw from the cold.

At the peripheral of his vision, he could also feel two very distinguishable demonic essences. The stronger one was in the city, which Crowley had already left behind, and the other was barely visible, somewhere on the top of the mountain, but considerably far away from Aziraphale.

The angel was alright. Probably he was in one of those ski places slightly up the mountain. And, confident in that thought, Crowley forced himself to stop and enter a bar nearby. Exhausting himself would not help the angel, so he needed a little break to recover and be able to continue to climb the bloody mountain.

He was sitting at a table, half full glass of vodka between his hands, when a loud groan was heard outside and the whole building shook, all the lights going out. People around him gasped and yelled, holding themselves to the furniture and each other until the tremor stopped.

"Oh goodness, what was that?" A woman asked near the bar with a very heavy French accent, both her arms around a man that held her just as close.

"An avalanche." The bartender answered, walking around to light up some candles. "And a strong one at that. There might be replicas, so everyone should stay put for at least an hour or-"

Yeah...so, Crowley didn't exactly hear the rest. He just tossed the vodka down in a single swing and got up from his seat, slithering around the people in the bar until he reached the door. He felt a hand on his arm, trying to pull him back when he reached for the doorknob, but he shook it away, finally getting outside.

The layer of snow outside was so thick now that his boots didn't dig into it. So he ran. Which didn't help with his respiratory system and, consequently, the rest of his body feeling raw and frozen all at the same time in less than few seconds. It took longer for his legs to get tired, but he was already tired, regardless. Still, he soldiered on, all riding on adrenaline and low-key panic.

"Aziraphale!" When Crowley started feeling his essence more clearly he started calling out for him, trying to see through the fog and the snow still falling. Not even his demonic eyes were helping on that task.

Eventually, he got to a spot where he could feel the essence so strongly that he actually felt its warmth, so he stopped and looked around, his heart hammering against his chest and his breath rasp and heavy.

"Aziraphale?" He turned on himself. There was no sign of Aziraphale anywhere... but he could swear the angel should be right here... and suddenly, it clicked. "No..." He was under the snow, wasn't he? "Fuck. Aziraphale!"

Crowley took a few steps to the left and fell to his knees, his trousers getting ice cold soaked as he dig the snow as fast as he could. He had no idea how much time had passed, but finally, he found some cream fabric under the snow.

"No, no, no, no. For fucks sake, Aziraphale!" Still digging, he started talking to himself, mainly not to let the panic spiral and keep himself grounded. "Why is it always you?! Don't those wanker archangels have any other angel to throw into a frozen nightmare after their bloody death?!"

From there, it was rather easy to dig his torso and his face from under the snow.

Aziraphale was frozen to the touch, his lips were an awful shade of bluish-purple and his corporation was not breathing.

Okay. Crowley. Just. Don't. Panic.

He held Aziraphale by the shoulders and pulled him the rest of the way out of the snow.

"Angel?" At some point he had thrown his gloves to the side to make digging easier, so now he placed his equally frozen, wet and trembling hands on Aziraphale's cheeks. With his demonic essence, he tried to reach out for Aziraphale's and the angel's essence reached back instantly like a cougar attacking its unattentive prey, surprising the demon, who staggered back, hands away from the angel, snapping his essence back inside his own corporation.

Alright. Aziraphale was quite clearly still here, and he was either so out of his mind he pounced on Crowley with the default intent to smite him, or he was just plainly terrified.

Carefully, both his hands once again on the angel's face, he slowly reached out, this time more prepared for when Aziraphale's essence jumped on him.

Aziraphale wasn't trying to smite him. He was reaching for warmth.

Crowley's corporation shallowed as he sat back and pulled Aziraphale to his lap, upping his body heat as much as he possibly could. It didn't feel great. In fact, it felt like he was having a very bad fever, and his mind swam a bit with the sudden difference in temperature, but he had to try and keep the angel warm. On a metaphysical level, Crowley's True Form surrounded Aziraphale's, as tight as metaphysically possible, trying to keep him stable. Keep him here. His essence was flickering a bit, and Crowley wasn't having any of it.

"Don't you dare discorporate, you bastard."

Crowley looked around. There was nowhere warm where he could take the angel close enough. Try as he might, this was only a temporary solution. One that wasn't doing much at that.

Suddenly, his head snapped back to attention as he felt a demonic presence getting closer.

Fucking Heavens, that was exactly the last thing he needed right now. There was nowhere to hide, and even if he found some place, the Duke would feel Aziraphale's essence and hunt like a starved dog.

Right. Think. Preferably before Aziraphale fucking discoporates in your arms.

The only idea that came to mind was miracling a small cabin or whatnot into existence right then and there. It would be a big ass miracle, and he would be exhausted afterward, but his priority was keeping Aziraphale here. So he took a long breath and snapped his fingers, a small wooden cabin showing up right behind them.

Gently, Crowley got up and took Aziraphale in his arms, walking them both into the cabin. At least inside there was no more wind or snow, and whatever body heat his body produced would remain trapped between the four walls.

Sitting Aziraphale on the floor with his back against the wall, Crowley detached his cape from his shoulders and wrapped it around the angel before turning his attention to the door.

Vine would find a cabin in the middle of a bloody mountain suspicious, as he should.

Crowley was tired, both physically, mentally and metaphysically, and his miracle reservoir was quite affected by that and the big ass miracle he just performed, but he had to put up wards around this place that not only masked the cabin, but both his and Aziraphale's essences from the Duke's radar. It was easier said than done, but he had no time to dilly dally. With each snap, he felt his mind go foggy, and his vision tilt to the side. Yet, he kept going until everything was more or less in place. All he could do for now was pray. Or not pray. He was a demon. Demons didn't pray

He sat on the floor next to Aziraphale and pulled him into his lap, hugging him against his chest and upping his body temperature once again. This time, he was invaded by a sudden nausea, and his eyes unfocused, but he kept it up, trapping Aziraphale's True Form with his own once again.

"Stay with me, angel." It was more a wordless request than a whisper.

There they stayed, Crowley with his head leaned against the wall and Aziraphale unconscious on his arms.

Slowly but surely, Aziraphale's skin started warming up, and his lips changed to a very pale pink, but pink nonetheless.

Crowley was exhausted. Part of him was begging him to close his eyes and sleep, but if he did his body temperature would go back down to normal and his essence would spring back to his corporation, letting go of Aziraphale and that wasn't an option. Not until he was concious.

In the back of his mind, he noticed when the demonic presence got dangerously close to where they were. Instinctively, he hugged Aziraphale more tightly, holding his breath. He felt truly frozen in place while the Duke slowly walked by them and only allowed himself to somewhat relax again when he was far away enough. Yet, he didn't put down the wards. They were consuming a lot of his energy, and his body was growing somewhat numb, but he refused to let go.

Aziraphale's corporation took a deep breath and slowly started shaking.

Good. That was good. He was coming back to himself.

It was a slow process, but when the night fell outside, Aziraphale finally stirred, opening his eyes with quite the effort.

"Crowley...?" His voice was sluggish, but Satan was it good to hear it. The demon was too weak to answer with words, so he only hummed, gripping him more strongly. "What happened...?"

Gradually, Crowley let his body heat fall to its normal temperature, and he let the ward hidding the cabin fall. It was like someone had taken a boulder off his chest, but his mind was still somewhat slow. He looked down at Aziraphale, his sunglasses lost somewhere in the snow outside while he had been digging.

"There's was an avalanche. You got trapped in it. Buried yourself 7 feet under a block of ice."

Aziraphale moved slightly on his lap, straightening himself up so he was actually sitting.

"You're supposed to be in Moscow."

"Observant."

"What are you even doing here, Crowley?"

He thought about dropping his arms from around Aziraphale, but he wasn't ready for that. Not yet.

"Saving your arse once again, obviously. If I had stayed in Moscow, right now your corporation would be a popsicle and you would be upstairs getting an earful from Gabriel or that wanker Michael. So, you're welcome."

The angel didn't say anything else. Instead, he let his head fall on Crowley's shoulder, and both of them stayed in silence, only their ragged breathes and the wind outside making themselves heard.

"You need to leave Russia. Or, at least, Krasnaya Polyana."

"I can't." His hand was gripping the front of Crowley's jacket, the demon wasn't sure he was aware of that. "I have an assignment to complete."

"It's completed." Aziraphale's head snapped up, looking the demon in the eye. "You came here to figure out why there was a spike of demonic energy here, yes? There's a Prince and a Duke of Hell. Asmodeus and Vine. That's why."

"I can't just leave these people in the hands of two demons! I have to find out whatever it is they are trying to do!"

"That's not part of your assignment. You had to know the cause, now you know. You will write your report as soon as you can and get the heavens out of here before they sniff you out."

"Crowley, you're being ridic-"

"You are leaving, Aziraphale." Now it was his turn to look the angel in the eye, his voice as cold as the ice outside. "You've never dealt with a Duke of Hell, much less a Prince. You've mainly dealt with me and, let's be honest with ourselves, I give you little to no trouble. You are not prepared to face either of them. Asmodeus could easily discorporate you on sight. Or kill you. Actually kill you. Destroy your essence. They are not some random demons you can waltz to and have a polite conversation with." Aziraphale stayed quiet, unmoving. "You are leaving and that's final."

"You can't order me around."

"I'm trying to save your bloody life, Aziraphale!" His arms let go of the angel, and his hands came up to grab his shoulders, shaking him slightly. "This is not a joke. They will not stop by to have tea and biscuits and discuss the weather while you convince them to leave. Stop being fucking stubborn for once in your damn life! You did what you came to do. Just tell Gabriel that they are here and leave." Aziraphale looks down to his hands. "I'm serious, angel." He held the angel's chin, pushing him to look up at him again. "I'm not leaving you here with them. You either come with me to Moscow or go straight back to London to the bookshop."

Crowley feels the vibrations of Aziraphale humming on his fingers.

"Very well, my dear. Whatever you say." The angel got up from his lap and the demon followed him, swaying on his feet. Aziraphale held his arm, stabilizing him. "Are you quite alright?"

He kept his eyes closed for a few moments until his mind stopped feeling sluggish. Probably because he took too long answer, Crowley felt Aziraphale's fingers brushing his. He finally let down the two last wards and took the deepest breath.

"I'm fine. Just. A lot of big miracles. And you grabbing at my essence and True Form like a dehydrated man in the desert." Aziraphale's hand flinched away and he was about to open his mouth to say something, but Crowley cut it, holding his hand, squeezing it. "I said I'm fine. Let's go back to civilization, shall we?"

They did go back to civilization. To Moscow in the first train out from Krasnaya Polyana, to be more precise.

Aziraphale stayed with Crowley in his flat at the capital for 3 days. He wrote the report as soon as they arrived, and both waited to hear something from Gabriel in the next few days, but silence was all they got. On the 3rd day, when Aziraphale had his train back to Paris and then to London, Crowley insisted on seeing him out, so he had to leave the palace in quite the hurry, with no chance to switch out his uniform.

"Thank you for seeing me out, dear. Or should I say..." Aziraphale tapped Crowley's hat. ", General?"

Crowley rolled his eyes fondly, smiling in response.

"Shut up."

"I'm not jesting. You've always looked rather... fetching in a uniform. When was the last time you wore one? American Revolution?"

"I believe so."

Aziraphale hummed, fixing Crowley's left shoulder pad.

"You always wore them much better than I did."

"Usually you are at the hospitals saving lives, angel. Not in the battlefield."

The angel snorted.

"Not like you are in the battlefield actually fighting yourself."

"Oi! I have fought!"

"Mmh. I've never seen you holding a gun. And the last time I saw you brandishing a sword was back in the Gallic Wars, back in 58 BCE."

"Ngk."

Aziraphale chuckled, taking a step back, grabbing his suitcase.

"Will you be back in London?"

"Myeah. Should be done here in another year or so."

"Shall I keep watering your plants?"

"You've got the key, don't you?"

"Indeed." They heard the train making the last call and both looked towards the noise before looking back at each other. "Do try to not get yourself discorporated."

"Likewise. I'll see you in a year, angel."

Aziraphale nodded and started walking away, dragging his suitcase behind him. Before stepping through the train's entrance, he looked back, spotting the demon exactly where he left him, still watching him. Crowley winked and saluted him, pulling a chuckle out of Aziraphale's throat.

Crowley was ridiculous.

And so the angel went back to London. Alive. And out of the rather of any demonic entity, apart from the one he wanted to stay in the radar of.