#but I have decided he usually veils himself a lot

[sixosix]

ALL EYES ON YOU, MY MAGICIAN | LYNEY

please note that lyney and mc are 20+ in this series !! genshin hasn’t explicitly stated lyney’s age but there are a couple scenes where lyney talks about drinking— and i’m stating this now because lyney and mc drink alcohol for this chapter.

warnings drinking, kissing (kinda), hopeless pining, dialogue heavy orz, wc 3.8k

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You and Aether once again find yourselves in an inconspicuous meeting spot, which was just a shadowy corner of Cafe Lutece, your exchanges veiled by the guise of three friends casually eating dinner. Paimon is, of course, stuffing her mouth with the array of desserts; Aether is sipping on a drink she ordered for him, brows furrowed in deep thought, and you’re still wondering why Lyney lied to your face.

After your spar with Lyney, you realized a few things. 1) He knows more than he lets on. 2) He knows that you’re onto him. 3) He could have easily called you out on it, but he didn’t. What was his goal here? Is he playing along?

Or is he hiding something bigger than what you’re trying to go after? Magicians tend to play little tricks to hide a grander one.

Aether hums thoughtfully. “Do you believe him?”

“Definitely not,” you reply swiftly—bitterly, too, because you don’t know what you’re looking for. “I feel like I’m walking straight into a trap.”

You’re a hypocrite, but you’re essentially doing this for them, so you’re better than a hypocrite, at least.

Aether frowns, contemplating. Paimon speaks up on his behalf, fork in hand, “That's strange. Paimon thought you were close! With what it looked like when we found you talking to him.”

“Why?” you demand. It was Lyney who was getting close—literally. “What does it look like to you? I mean, to me, it's as if saying the wrong thing would prompt him to kill me himself. If he wanted to."

Aether suggests, "You should check your eyes."

You huff, stubbornly taking a huge sip of your Fonta. These things taste great. Their sweetness always left you craving it even when you don’t like drinking. Paimon, because she’s an expert, sensed your newly acquired favorite and insisted that Aether buy you one. 

“I feel kind of bad now. It seems that my blackmail is just getting in the way of your drama with Lyney,” Aether admits.

“We don't have drama,” you dismiss, which is instinctual by this point, “We just hated each other. He used to get on my nerves a lot—and turns out he doesn’t plan on stopping.”

Under the muted glow of the street lamps, your words trail off. Your gaze lingers on your palms. It is not obvious—you’d have to look closely, but there were scars on your palms. Most of them were from tending to plants and sharp tools, while the others were marks of burns. You wonder how Lyney noticed.

Aether calls for your name. You’re dragged back to reality when Paimon waves her tiny hands in front of your face.

“Right, sorry,” you laugh humorlessly, turning your hands back around. “Um, what should we do about Lord Tartaglia?"

Aether and Paimon share a confused glance. “Childe? What's up with Childe?”

“I told them that I'm under his faction as a cover.”

“Oh, that's no problem,” Aether assures, snorting dismissively. “Childe still owes me a lot—I'll tell him to keep his mouth shut.”

You glance around the area. There were only a few customers. A Melusine kicks her feet by the entrance as she digs in on her cake, a young man whose face is buried in his palms, and a little girl and her mother share a plate of Conch Madeleine. How sweet.

“Will that work?” you whisper, “I am trying to extract Fatui information. People usually get killed over this.”

Aether, with a sly grin, says, “Again, Childe owes me a lot. My magic word is Teucer.”

Feeling a little hopeful, you decide to look on the brighter side of things. A Harbinger and an Outlander by your side against Lyney and The Knave sounds more promising than years' worth of memorizing Fontaine Flowers’ textbook definitions and a rusty polearm.

“Is there anything you want to find out in particular?” you ask.

"Anything about my sister, really,” Aether says dejectedly. “I've traveled from Mondstadt to Fontaine, and only one Archon gave me a sliver of info. If you find anything, that’s all I ask for.”

Getting blackmailed by such an earnest brother is possibly the most troublesome way of getting blackmailed. Seeing such a longing expression on his face— archons, these idiot brothers caring too much and using it against your family-oriented soft spot.

“And you’ll leave Rosalie alone, right?”

“That’s our deal,” Aether says. “Though, I think Rosalie loves Paimon. You wouldn’t be able to get rid of us that easily.”

You separate ways after Paimon finishes her food. She politely and sweetly asks you to question Rosalie when she will make her next batch of dinner so they can come over. You tell her sure, but you hope not because Paimon, as cute as she is, would end up spilling a secret or two when her stomach is happy and satisfied.

Rosalie is probably waiting for you to get home. You hurry your steps.

Before you can reach the door, a tall, hooded figure swings it open and shoulders past you, not allowing you even a glimpse of the stranger’s face. When you turn, the figure has stopped and looked at you over their shoulder. You can't tell if you've made eye contact; the shadows dancing on their face make it too dark to discern their features.

Feeling uncomfortable, you turn back and shoulder the door open. You feel uneasy knowing that they had been inside Rosalie’s shop. Rosalie has a lot of lovesick admirers, ones that you didn’t hesitate presenting lousy customer service to to scare them away. 

Rosalie is humming happily as you enter, moving pots of plants around to display by the window. She brightens when you wave at her. “Y/N! Just in time—would you mind helping me replace these with the newer batch?”

She doesn’t seem to be creeped out.

You can’t help but ask, “Was that a customer earlier?”

“Mhm,” Rosalie says absentmindedly, fixing the pot in a perfect angle that would show the blooming flowers to the streets. “Bought one of our imports from Snezhnaya—you know the ones that would have died in the next two weeks or so? Our rain is no match for Snezhnaya’s snow, but they were beautiful petals. I’m glad they could be of use, somehow.”

You hum, heaving up a heavy pot of Calla Lilies onto a vacant space. “They were.”

“I didn’t make her pay because I felt terrible knowing it wouldn’t last long, but she insisted!” Rosalie wipes sweat off her brow.

You gesture at the little Lumidouce Bell by the counter, growing taller by the day. “Are we not going to display that, too?”

“We’re displaying it there—it is not for sale,” Rosalie says. “We can’t let them think I’m selling it.”

“It’s just a flower.”

Rosalie wipes off the dirt from her fingers on her apron and pokes at your nose with her pinky. “Yes, but it’s your flower.”

You feel your face warm, flattered, and endlessly endeared. “Right.”

Rosalie smiles knowingly, rising from her knees. “Before I forget—check behind the counter, will you? A package of yours arrived today.”

“A package?” You don’t remember ordering anything. You don’t think you’ve ordered anything at all your entire life.

Everything you owned was either hand-me-downs (courtesy of the House’s previous members and now Rosalie’s collection of dresses) or little things here and there with the money you earned from working in the flower shop. They were all bought and chosen, with Rosalie doing so on your behalf, with your unwillingness to step outside when unnecessary.

“It’s tall,” Rosalie says conspiratorially, “twice the size of a guitar case! Are you practicing the double bass in secret?”

“No…?” You walk behind the counter and find the package beside the door. Rosalie wasn’t exaggerating—it’s taller than you. “Does it say who’s it from?”

“I tried looking, but it only has a cute little cat drawn on it,” Rosalie says, walking past you in a flurry of ruffled skirts.

You frown at it. A cat? You inspect the bottom of the package; sure enough, it has a little cat drawn on it, winking up at you. What the hell?

“The cat is wearing a top hat, did you see?” Rosalie asks loudly to overpower the running water.

Nevermind. You know exactly who sent you this package. The double bass in question is a spear, hence its height. It’s here already? Lyney sure works fast. To think that you never escaped the ever-generous donations of the House—even now, when you aren’t an orphan there.

You sigh. You just told him you didn’t want to owe anything.

Still, you tear open the carton. It rips in a clean line, unraveling itself. You gasp at the sight of the most beautiful spear you’ve ever laid your eyes on. It’s far from elegant, the tip resembling the sharpened spine of a dragon, as if a hunter’s trophy. The shaft, fading from blood red to black on its tip as scales, feels sleek to the touch when you run your fingers through it.

A piece of paper is taped onto it, folded in half, and has the words READ ME printed in bold ink. You cast a glance at Rosalie, who’s still out of sight, then swiftly read the contents of the letter.

Come with me to the banquet tomorrow morning, with an address attached.

Your first thought is to rip it to shreds. Your second one—which happens to be the louder one—is curious about the event. Why invite you? Is this a trap? Did he want to show you something?

A banquet… You catch a reflection of yourself on the shop’s window, seeing a muddy apron, a loose blouse, and pants that most probably belonged to a man before you got your hands on it. A banquet invitation by the famous Great Magician Lyney is like a challenge to your wealth and fame, but Lyney’s not like that. Curiosity ends up winning.

“Rosalie?” you call out.

She emerges from the door. Her dress, even for gardening—unlike yours—is gorgeous and grand and definitely meant for banquets. She unties her apron. “Yes, darling?”

And that’s how you ended up getting all dolled up. Having learned your lesson from last time, you asked Rosalie to loosen your corset. This gown is larger than your previous one, fluffing around your waist and pooling by your feet in a graceful heap of velvet fabric.

You can’t help but notice the wine-red shade of Rosalie’s lips matched the skirt of the gown.

“Can I borrow the lip color you use?” you ask quietly, feeling like you’re already asking too much from her. 

You cast your gaze to the floor, too nervous to behold Rosalie’s expression. You didn’t get to see how she smiles fondly or how her eyes crinkle as you fidget on your feet. When she returns from fetching her box of cosmetics, she holds your chin and grins.

“Thanks, maman,” you try to say, with your mouth wide open and all as she paints your lips.

The brush pauses. Rosalie’s face softens. “Of course, Mon bébé. Always.”

As you enter the main hall, a man in a suit greets you with a tray of glasses in hand. He waits patiently and doesn’t leave until you reluctantly take one with a muttered thanks.

Where is Lyney?

You scan the place. The chandelier twinkles with diamonds, raining on everyone’s heads with a colorful reflection that illuminated their jewelry. Although Rosalie’s gowns were far more expensive than anything you’ve ever worn, it almost seems like it’s nothing compared to the over-the-top dresses and suits excuse of a wealth showcase.

They’re all talking and laughing with each other, sipping idly on their half-empty champagne. Feeling out of place, you tip the glass back and swallow quietly.

Its acidity makes you wince, but the taste bursts with a rich flavor. The last time you consumed anything alcoholic, it was your 18th birthday, and Rosalie slid over a glass of wine. The day ended in you throwing up on the sidewalk, but the memory is sweet. It has you going for one more sip.

The banquet-goers pay you no mind as you walk further inside. They chatter, eat, and tip their heads back to drink, but they don’t spare you even a glance. Perhaps they can smell the money off of you—which was none.

Meow, you hear by your feet.

“Oh!” you say, pleasantly surprised. You bend down to offer your hand out. “Hello, kitty. That’s a dashing hat you have there.”

The cat purrs and rubs itself on the back of your palm. Its dark fur is soft, a telltale sign of a well-groomed cat.

“Are you here with someone?” you ask politely, expecting no response, but the cat starts moving its paws and saunters off with a destination.

With nothing else to do, you obediently follow.

The cat strolls off. It brushes past leather shoes and ruffles and layers of skirts. It walks like it knows exactly where it’s going in the grand room. Maybe the little guy actually does. Its hat bounces as it trots, which reminds you of a particular lilac-eyed individual.

But you stopped following, eventually, because your eyes caught on— speak of the devil.

Lyney grins as cards fly across from one hand to another in a smooth movement. There aren't any stage props or spotlights flashing down on him, yet everyone watches with rapt gazes. That's always been his real talent: a magnet for attention by simply waving his hands. By batting his eyes, he's got everyone enamored.

For all his talk about keeping a fair distance with his admirers, you can’t blame any of them for believing Lyney’s comfort in their presence, his ease in the way they crowd him. He’s a splendid actor.

For some reason, this brings out an unpleasant feeling in your chest. It makes you want to reach out and show them what he’s truly like without a mask—but that doesn’t sound right to you, either. They don’t have to know what Lyney’s like when he wraps his arms around your personal space.

Maybe the alcohol is getting to you.

Before you can turn away, fingers clasp around your forearm and pull you against a body.

Lyney’s smiling wide, a jarring contrast to the fake one seconds ago. “You’re here!”

You get flustered, aware of his audience directing their attention to both of you. “I told you I didn’t like owing anyone anything.”

Lyney laughs melodically, kissing the back of your palm. Is he aware of all these eyes? He has to be—that’s his life’s work. Perhaps he doesn’t care. Perhaps he wants to show off as much as you do.

The air was thick the moment you entered the banquet, scents of all perfumes and roasted meats clashing and clinging to your nose, but suddenly it felt a lot more charged. Like you could faintly register the hair on your arms standing up in attention as you hold Lyney’s gaze.

“Forgive me; I missed you and had to come up with an excuse, somehow,” he says, winking up at you.

“We just saw each other two days ago,” you say.

When the tray of wine passes by once more, you eagerly draw out another glass. The faint buzz in the back of your head is not strong enough to drown out your stupid thoughts about Lyney, of all people.

The man of the hour—Lyney, because he always is—does the same. He murmurs, “You look breathtaking.”

“You should’ve warned me that the banquet would be ten times fancier than what I had in mind,” you say in return.

“And yet, even unprepared, no soul can take their eyes off you.”

You hope Lyney’s just saying that as a compliment, and it’s not what’s actually happening. You crane your neck and notice a whispering crowd as they stare at you. It wasn’t the whole truth. Even when pressed against Lyney, all eyes are on him. You face Lyney, suddenly conscious.

He doesn’t take his eyes off you, even once when his fingers reached out to fish out a champagne flute. Lyney still has that stupid smile on his face, the rim of his glass against his lips. You’re hit with the startling realization that you want to kiss him.

Fuck, what?

Your face burns, breath hitching in a way that has you choking on your drink. What the hell are you thinking? Are you out of your mind?

“I need another drink,” you say after downing your current one in half.

Lyney frowns, patting your back. His warmth sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. “I think what you need is water. How many glasses have you had already?”

You don’t want to be sober when you’re faced with Lyney. You don’t want to be sober when Lyney’s so close. “Not enough,” you say, because you don’t want to be sober right now.

The rest of the signs of intoxication start to settle as the laughter that rings somewhere from afar softens into an echo. The warm lights that showered the room seemed to glow when they rested on Lyney’s face. Though, you can’t quite tell if it’s intoxication or if it’s Lyney’s magic.

“What’s this banquet for?”

Lyney hums, taking one long sip. His lips press against the glass. “We’re celebrating father’s return.”

You think of The Knave instead, tall and intimidating when you stand across her, and wince. “She’s back?”

“Mhm,” Lyney says, his eyes tracing over your face, “has been for a while now, but the orphans decided to throw a little something for her. Can’t you tell? Half of the people in this room are Fatui.”

Oh.

You couldn’t tell, but you should’ve known. The Orphans were raised and trained to be masters of deception, blending seamlessly.

“But… why?” You’re starting to feel some weight on your tongue. 

“We needed sponsors for a party this grand,” Lyney leans in to whisper, eyes gleaming, “and a party this grand would surely attract important people who know a lot.”

You want to ask why he’s telling you all of this freely, but you catch the flush dancing on his cheeks, and it faintly registers that Lyney must be a little drunk as well.

“Lyney, I—”

“Don't worry.” He’s still whispering. You have to draw closer to hear him. “I wouldn't have invited you if ‘Father’ personally came here. It’s just us, and no one will bother you if you’re with me.”

“Then why invite me here?”

Lyney smiles playfully, posture elegant with practice yet shoulders loose with the champagne. “I thought you would have been eager to learn more about the House’s current state.”

Was this a jab to his suspicions? Or was this him trying to reach out and employ a sense of nostalgia? You’re not drunk enough for this.

“Most of the ones we grew up with were sent off to other regions. But the one hosting—do you remember Cecilia?

You remember Cecilia. You have scars that remind you of Cecilia. “How has she been? Good, I hope? No grudges against me?”

“She never held any grudges,” Lyney laughs, and he tells you all about how they’ve all been since you left.

Without meaning to, you and Lyney end up recalling memories back in the House. And without thinking hard about it, you pluck another glass, then another, emboldened by the taste and fruits of alcohol—emboldened by how each sip has you feeling light. You don’t realize it, but you and Lyney end up pressed against each other, fondly remembering memories you thought you left behind. You could never run too far.

Maybe it’s your inhibitions dissipating along with the fizz of the champagne. Maybe it’s the atmosphere. Maybe it’s when Lyney’s tongue darted out to wet his lip, the words died in your mouth, and your head is heavy and very much feeling like it wants to be caught by Lyney. With his face.

“Hey,” Lyney says, his hand trailing across your jaw. As if he’s stopping you. “We’re pretty out of it right now. Don’t kiss me.”

You scowl. “Why? you hate me that much?”

Lyney’s eyes widen. “No. Don’t—don’t pout at me like that.” He covers your mouth. “That’s not fair.”

You haven’t even realized you were pouting. You wave his hand off and slump against him, curling against his comforting warmth. You like the view of the flush on Lyney’s neck crawling all the way up to his ears.

Lyney sighs, his back leaning against the wall as he holds you. You haven’t even noticed that you and Lyney were huddled together in a dark corner. “It would’ve been easier if we hated each other, huh?” He traces his thumb over your lip, looking forlorn. “I wouldn’t have hesitated to protect my status as a Fatuus the moment you came back out of thin air.”

You want to shut him up. “You’re talking too much. Just kiss me.”

“No,” Lyney says, but he doesn’t push you off of him either. “Let’s get you water.”

Ugh. The thought of water makes you sick. You resist the urge to vomit and nuzzle your nose on his collarbone, visibly relaxing when he steadies you with hands on both sides of your hips. This is better than water.

“Did you like my gift?” Lyney whispers to your ear.

You nod against his neck. “It was cool. I didn't know how to repay you, but now… now I regret coming here.”

“Why’s that?”

You run your fingers through his hair, messing up the braid on the side of his head. “Because I want to kiss you, and you’re being annoying. The nerve you have when you’re looking at me like that.”

Lyney slumps against the wall, defeated. “Don’t just say that, Y/N. You can’t go around saying that.”

“I’m not. Why else am I all over you instead of someone else?”

You watch in fascination as Lyney’s pupils dilate. Lyney’s skin feels so soft to the touch and inexplicably warm. Why is he denying you? Surely he feels it, too. Surely he wants it, too.

“Hey,” you whisper, and Lyney trembles. “What’s—what… What are you and Lynette up to? There has to be a reason you’re here, right? Tell me.”

Lyney frowns, pulling away to face you. “What?”

But then light rolls into view, stinging your eyes at the abrupt radiance. Someone has turned the lights on, possibly the culprit of this assault and rude interruption.

“Oh, shit,” a voice says.

Lyney stiffens, hands moving protectively around your torso, shielding you from the light that floods in when the door opens.

“M-Master Childe!” Lyney exclaims, looking torn between standing up and keeping you shielded, still. He has lipstick on his jaw; you want to point at it and laugh.

“Lord Tartaglia’s here?” you ask, stumbling over his name.

“Um,” Lord Tartaglia stands frozen by the doorway, “I’ll be leaving you two to it.”

ive never gotten drunk before so idk how off i am from the real deal, but i did consult my friend who has gotten drunk so hopefully i was at least not too inaccurate LMFAOO

NO WAY NEW CHAPTER. and theyre being stupid. now ay..... TYSM FOR READIN!!!!!! and sorry if this took a while i was being stupid too and decided to rewrite a big chunk last minute. LMK WHAT U THINK

TAGLIST.

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#606: THAWED #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #genshin impact #lyney x reader #lyney x you #lyney x y/n

[crushmeeren]

Art by @birf__ on X — link to their account here.

Warnings; Mentions of injuries, Cursing, Kissing, Marijuana Use, Vaginal Sex, Dirty Talk, Squirting, Fem Reader

Or: You just want to spend one more easy night with Dabi before the entirety of Japan goes to hell.

Note; this is a completely re-edited, revised, reworked version of my previous Dabi/Reader—I deleted the previous one.

MDNI

It’s almost funny, you think, as you lean against the wall of the Leagues newest hideout. The reason you were convinced to join the A team in the first place—to go a long with Shigaraki’s convoluted plans.

It wasn’t Stain. Hell, it wasn’t even Shigaraki himself. It sure as fuck wasn’t All for One.

No, it was the scarred, absolutely deranged, blue eyed psycho that has daddy issues. The man who creates flames that burn over 2500 degrees celsius at their hottest, higher than Endeavors. The bastard.

To be fair, you didn’t know he had daddy issues when you saw him on TV for the first time. Yet, you saw the emotion in his eyes. Rage.

It flared, crackling brightly—hotter than the flames he produces himself.

It forced something to melt and seep into your bones, making your skin feel too tight, itchy, in an all too familiar way. You recognized another emotion on his face, one you were well acquainted with. Revenge.

You stopped at nothing to seek him out after that. Inevitably, you found him.

Now here you are, watching Dabi make, what equates to, a self-introduction video.

You’ve heard the story from him multiple times, you’ve seen him make the video over and over again. He’s shared his past and you’ve shared yours. You know people say Dabi may not feel much, hell even he says that. They say he’s heartless, cold, insane.

And—he is, but he’s also much more than that to you.

He’s kind to you, in his own twisted way, but he loves you, as much as he’s able to.

Which compared to “normal people” is actually quite a lot. Some would place him on the level of obsessed, unhealthy.

Although, who are you to judge? You act the exact same way towards him. Both of you would incinerate the world for each other, literally.

You also know he wants this video to be his own version of Dantes Inferno, about his journey navigating through hell since he was a kid.

You’ve had many conversations with Dabi about how much of a toll this takes on him. As if he’s weighted down by concrete tied to his ankles. Usually he gets so worked up that smoke ends up seeping through the seams of his staples by the end of it.

Nevertheless, he’s releasing the video tomorrow—whether it’s time for Shiagaraki to wake the hell up or not. No matter what, it’s going to rock the hero society. It’ll crumble the facade they have worked so hard to maintain. You’re lucky enough to know who he really is, the rest of the league, and the world, doesn’t. Yet.

You’re here for support, to make sure he actually gets the video fucking done, before you’re heading off for the day. Doing some sort of asinine errand for the Doc to help keep Shigaraki’s ass alive while he soaks in that vat.

You already decided that later tonight, you’re going make sure Dabi remembers he’s got you to come home too. No matter what happens after the world sees behind the veil.

After some time, you’re still leaning against the wall on the side of the room. Letting little flames ignite from your fingertips, just playing around, having one flame dance from finger to finger.

It’s another thing that had attracted you to Dabi. Even though flame quirks are a dime a dozen, and his flames burn hotter, it made you feel like you were similar, in a way.

Noticing that he’s stopped talking you look up, putting out the flame with a wave of your hand. You watch him walk to the camera to turn it off.

He was shirtless for the video. It shows off how lean he is, but it also shows all the burn scars that cross his chest and torso, up his neck and under his eyes. His hair is white right now and the staples holding him together shine under the light from overhead.

For a beat you remember how cool they feel pressing against your skin when Dabi pins you face down on the bed.

Your body flushes, warmth swirling in your belly. Being in love with a man like Dabi means he takes up most of the space in your brain, running wildly through your thoughts constantly.

To add on it’s not just Dabi you love, it’s Touya too. You know you’re not doing a very good idea of hiding the way your eyes trail his body when he speaks up. Smooth, low voice rumbling from his chest.

“You know, it’s rude to stare baby,” Dabi murmurs, inclining his head slightly to look at you. His gaze is sharp but his lips are pulled into a lazy catlike grin.

Embarrassment shoots through you like a shot. A swarm of butterflies inside you.

Using your hands, you set them behind you and push off the wall, trying to form a response. Nobody else but Dabi makes you act like you’ve swallowed your tongue whole.

“Maybe I just like what I see,” you tease, trying to ignore the way your cheeks are pink now. Dabi turns to face you as you walk up to him.

You can’t get over how he looms over you as you crane your neck to look up at him. The grin never leaves his face. He tugs playfully at a lock of hair that had fallen from your bun. You swallow involuntarily.

“Oh? You’re one to talk. I could fuck you where you stand,” he flirts, looking oh so casual the whole time.

Dabi twirls the same strand of hair around his finger, before letting it go. He radiates heat and it’s a bit like standing too close to a bonfire.

It toes the line of too hot, like your skin would start to melt if you got too close.

Your eyes flutter shut from the warmth, and you taking a deep, steadying breath, willing away the lust that burns in your belly.

You desperately try to remember that now is not the time to let Dabi fuck you silly.

You reluctantly take a step back, only now realizing how close the two of you had gotten. Later, you remind yourself, trying to cool down.

Dabi pushes out his lower lip, pretending to pout.

“Dabi, c’mon, you know I’ve got to go soon. I just wanted to make sure you got this finished today,” you say with a sigh.

Dabi rolls his eyes, no doubt irritated they have you doing bullshit errands. You get it, you feel the same, but you know it’s just less of a hassle to get it done.

It’s not like you don’t want Shigaraki to wake up soon. The crazy, itchy fucker has grown on you.

Besides, you want to get the plan moving and all. Dabi knows this, yet it still pisses him off. He waves a hand dismissively, before turning back to the camera.

“Whatever, go on then,” he snaps. Your lips press into a line, the sting of hurt pulsing in your chest briefly.

You shove your hands in your pockets and turn to leave without saying much else. You’re not willing to get into it with him right now, the video has clearly already got him riled up.

Before you can take a step, a blistering palm grabs your forearm, turning you back around. You raise an eyebrow as you meet his intense gaze.

“Yes?” you bite back. Dabi stares down at you, hand trailing down to grip your wrist, wrapping his fingers around as a bracelet. His expression stays sharp, blue eyes piercing.

“Just come back to me tonight, okay?” Dabi demands, an underlying note of concern lacing his tone.

You can’t bite back the smile that pulls at your lips, previous hurt washed away by your adoration for the deranged man in front of you. You nod.

“I will Touya,” you whisper softly.

You tend not to use his real name often, only when you need him to know you’re serious.

It makes his eye twitch, his stomach more often than not twisting in fury when he hears it.

Not with you though. The way his name falls from your lips—he’d be remiss if he didn’t admit it soothes the open wound it’s left behind.

Without another word, Dabi bends down, brushing a kiss over your cheek, letting your wrist go. Your skin tingles where his lips were, the rough texture of his lower one always tickles. You smile softly.

Swiftly you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth in return.

“Love you too, dickhead!” You call out playfully, letting the door swing shut behind you. Dabi scoffs watching you go, but he wears, a small, loving smile at your jab.

He already wishes for the night. As long as can be with you again.

————————————————————

You’re covered in soot and ashes. Smelling like a fucking bonfire gone wrong. The flesh of your hands is singed, stinging.

Generally, it happens when you overuse your quirk. The skin sizzles, steam rising from the reddened flesh. You shake your hands out as you walk, thanking God that it looks worse than it is. It’ll heal relatively quickly.

You’ve managed to procure only a couple bruises though, so you count yourself even luckier. You know Dabi will be fucking pissed either way.

You always have to talk him down from eviscerating the Doc when you wind up coming home banged up from one of his errands.

To top it off, it’s way later than when you normally return from these idiotic missions. It’s well past midnight and you’re sure Dabi is close to committing arson.

The job was a waste of your time. Granted, you admit you may have been a little distracted. You couldn’t stop thinking about the night that lay ahead of you and Dabi.

It’s hard to burn down that many buildings, discreetly, when you’re not focused 100%. You almost got caught at the last building.

Hence the new dark purple splotches covering your left bicep. They throb slightly when you accidentally brush your fingers over them. It’s a miracle you made it out, but you’re not telling Dabi that.

Walking into the front door of the, more or less mansion that is the hideout, you notice it’s quiet in the living room.

None of the usuals that hang out are down here. You look around quickly, thinking maybe you’d catch a glance of Dabi. You scowl when you don’t see his spiky white hair anywhere. You swiped something on the way home, an item that will help the two of you relax. It sits heavy in your back pocket.

You desperately want the two of you to enjoy the night before the world explodes into chaos tomorrow.

You slip your hand into your pocket, just to make sure it’s still there. Your finger tips trace the pre-rolled joints you snagged. You smile coyly to yourself, feeling your heart beat harshly against your rib cage.

A pleasant shiver rolls down your spine as you recall the last time you and Dabi had sex higher than a kite.

Smoking weed isn’t necessarily something you and Dabi do often, but when you get the chance you certainly take advantage of it.

How could you say no? Your body feels relaxed and warm, like your joints are made of butter. The pleasure is always dialed to a 10.

You know Dabi fucking loves it, the one chance he gets to truly relax. You make your way to the stairs as you chew on your bottom lip, mulling over your thoughts.

You’re hoping that once Dabi sees you’re okay, and that you have joints, he won’t be too tempted to set the mansion on fire.

You walk swiftly to your room. You pass by Mr. Compress on the way, the two of you wave in greeting. The sound of your combat boots echo on the wooden floor as you round the corner, stopping at your door.

The door is closed but that’s not unusual. Eagerly, you turn the handle and push open the door. It’s pitch black inside. That…is odd actually. Your grin quickly fades as you step inside, curious, you flip on the low light to the room.

Dabi’s not here. You feel an unwarranted flash of irritation at the realization.

As cliche as it sounds, recently you’ve been finding him playing some sort of game on his desk top computer. You’re not sure he’s ever played one before now and he seems to thoroughly enjoy it. Your chest warms as you think about him getting to experience some sort of normalcy.

However, he’s not at the desk. He’s not anywhere in your room. You shut the door behind you and walk in further. Shoving the feeling of annoyance down your throat, you remind yourself that the villain has got to be somewhere around the hideout.

Hoping he’ll pop up soon you decide it’s best to take a shower. To wash off the layer of disgusting ash you’re covered in.

Setting the joints on your dresser, you strip your nasty clothes off and throw them to the side. You grab one of Dabi’s shirts, one with a skull on it and nothing else before making your way into the en-suite bathroom.

As you stand under the spray of the scalding water, it feels unbelievable. The water acting as a much needed massage for your sore muscles.

You scrub yourself clean, hissing as the soap causes a burning sensation in your hands. You examine the newly pink, sensitive skin of your palms and flex your sore fingers.

The curtain suddenly rips open halfway and you scream loudly, arms flailing wildly. Your head whips to the side, heart in your throat as you see a smug looking Dabi. You place a hand on your chest feeling your thundering pulse.

“You fucking jack ass! You scared the shit out of me! Where the hell have you been?” you shout, angrily flinging water at his face.

The man laughs as he brings his hand up in surrender, covering his face from your retaliation. You let out a frustrated noise, quickly turning the water off to face him. You push his at chest, wetting his shirt and he grips the shower curtain with one hand—laughing.

“I got restless waiting for you. I was with Spinner, who wouldn’t stop yapping about some new video game. I saw Compress and he told me he saw you on your way up. I wanted to fuck with you.” He grins wolfishly, staples near the corner of his mouth tugging at the skin there. You scowl, glaring at him playfully.

“You’re such dick, ya know that?” you ask, unable to stop yourself from smiling widely at him.

Truthfully, you know nobody else sees this playful side of Dabi. The fact that you’re privy to it, it’s like knowing the world’s greatest secret. You’re grateful.

“Yet you stay with me, princess. Seems like you just love my dick that much.” You blush at his teasing, but there’s no denying it.

Dabi smirks, taking the chance to let his gaze lazily trail up and down your naked, wet body slowly, appreciating your form.

You wiggle your eyebrows playfully, popping your hip out, placing your hand there. It pulls a laugh from him and he gives you a wink. The sound of it sets your nerves alight.

You feel him go still, expression distorting into something feral. You know he’s found the new, rather large, bruises peppering your left bicep. He trails his fingers over them softly with his free hand. You wince.

Instantly the sickening scent of burning plastic floods your nose. You glance and see Dabi’s melting the shower curtain in his death grip.

“Touya!” You gasp. “I’m okay, really, I’m fine. Please, look at me,” you soothe, gripping his wrist. You place your free hand on his cheek to force him to meet your gaze. “It was my fault, I wasn’t paying attention,” you continue in a gentle voice, running your thumb over the scarred flesh under his left eye.

He lets out a pained noise, hesitantly letting go of the curtain. You take the opportunity, quickly lacing your fingers with his.

You take a peak at the curtain again, seeing a hand print has been melted into it. Dabi tugs on your hand, asking for your attention.

He stares intensely at your face, pupils tracking back and forth rapidly, looking a bit wild and he speaks, voice like gravel.

“Fucking idiots. Sending you out, letting you get fucked up. If I fucking see that Doc again before Shigaraki wakes up, I’m incinerating him,” he manages to get out through clenched teeth. His voice is low, menacing. It does not turn you on.

Dabi grips the wet hair at the nape of your neck, squeezing. Your breath catches, scalp tingling.

A torrent of warmth rushes through you, pussy clenching around nothing.

It never fails to turn you on when he’s like this. Protective, possessive. It makes syrupy heat drip down your spine.

You shiver, not just from the chill of being naked, when you realize you’re still dripping wet. Unfortunately, you need a towel.

“I know Touya,” You laugh. “ I won’t stop you.” You squeeze his hand. “But hey, I brought a surprise for you! So can you please hand me a towel?” You plead, looking at him through your lashes.

Touya doesn’t move for a moment, considering your words, before his expression mellows out. He sighs heavily.

Releasing his grip on your hair, he trails his rough fingers over your jaw. He lets go of your other hand and turns to grab a towel from the cabinet.

You lift up your arms, wiggling your fingers happily and wait. He sweetly wraps the cloth around your back and crosses it over your chest, tucking it into itself so it stays in place. You beam at him, letting your arms fall to hold it in place.

“Fine. You’ve convinced me not to commit murder tonight. Show me the surprise,” Dabi concedes, catlike grin settling into his expression once again. You breathe a sigh of relief, stepping out of the shower. You balance with a hand on his arm.

“I got us joints! I figured some good weed would help us relax and,” you trail your finger over his jaw, biting your lip coyly. You lean in, whispering sensually to him. “I was hoping we could have some fun later, if you know what I mean.”

Standing up straight, you smile smugly, wrapping the towel tighter around yourself, watching his reaction. His head tilts back in delighted laughter.

“That’s the best idea you could’ve had. Let’s go get high out of our minds and then I’ll fuck you into the mattress,” he purrs, grabbing the shirt you left to change into and tugging you along out of the bathroom.

You watch his lean frame from behind, admiring him as he walks. Fuck he’s so hot - and you aren’t talking literally.

Once you’re near the bed the two of you release each other. He hands you your shirt and you let your towel unwind, tossing it to the side.

Touya’s hand comes out of nowhere to smack your bare ass sharply. The pain flares, making you yelp.

“Touya!” You scold. “Fuck off for a second will you?” you joke. “Let me at least put my shirt on.” You slip the clothing over your head as you speak, gathering your wet hair into a braid.

Touya snorts. You look at him with a raised brow as he’s taking his own clothes off. Your eyes linger for a moment on the V shape that disappears into his underwear. He winks at you in return when he catches your stare, but you just roll your eyes.

“Why are you even putting clothes on? You know I’m just going to get you naked later,” Touya complains as he crawls onto your shared bed. He leans his back against the headboard. Touya looks at you expectantly, patting the spot next to him as he shoves his long, pale legs under the blanket.

“Yes I know, but I still get cold sometimes, plus I like this shirt, it’s soft,” you reply, picking up the joints from your dresser, turning the overhead light off, and shimmying up the bed to him.

You make it a point to sit so your thigh and arm are squished against his as you recline next him. You use a pillow to support your lower back.

“You know I can keep you just as warm baby,” Touya coos, pulling up the soft fuzzy blanket that covers your bed so you can get your own legs underneath.

He lets it rest at your waist. Touya gently warms the space beneath and you swallow a moan. It feels amazing. Turning your head to look at him, you smile lazily. He wiggles his eyebrows as you hold up a joint to him, urging him to light it.

“I know, and later on you’re gonna make me sweat,” you tease, watching as he smirks.

He doesn’t even watch as he uses his finger to light the joint. A little blue flame that instantly eats the paper, setting it alight.

You kiss his cheek in thanks, selfishly taking the first drag. Fuck, it tastes like heaven. A twisted version of lemon flavor bursts across your tongue. It’s sweet, but also bitter.

You let the smoke swirl in your lungs while you hold your breath. Letting it out in a long exhale, the smoke ghosts across Touya’s face. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, groaning as he breathes out.

After a joint and a half in, you’re feeling the perfect level of high. You’re leaning your head on Touya’s shoulder, studying your fingertips.

You’re something akin to the warm butter that melts on top of pancakes. Your head feels fuzzy and you know Touya is in the clouds.

”Baby,” Touya softly calls for you, tone low and smooth. His honeyed voice sending a shiver down your spine. Your head feels heavy when you lift it, looking at him with a dopey grin.

“Hmm?” you try to ask. Managing to giggle in response. He tilts his head down towards you. He’s wearing a matching lazy grin, his eyes half-lidded.

“Let me shot gun you baby,” he murmurs, taking the last large inhale from the joint. He holds his breath and puts out the joint on his palm, laying the roach on the bedside table.

You nod happily, stomach unbearably warm as you lean towards him. You let your mouth fall open obediently.

Touya looks sly, meeting you halfway. His different textured lips pressing to yours easily, slightly opened as he slowly pushes the smoke out of his lungs and into your mouth.

Your eyes flutter closed as the tendrils of smoke roll into your mouth. It makes you feel a bit feverish and everything feels like it’s rolling in slow motion.

You inhale equally as slow, taking your time, pulling it into your lungs. It makes you feel dizzy. You hold it for a moment, until your chest starts to burn and then you break from the kiss.

Turning your head minutely, you let it all out in one breath. Your tongue slips out to lick your lower lip, the aftertaste from the joint making your mouth water.

You slide your gaze to Touya’s. He brings his hand up, letting his fingers rest on your jaw as he runs a thumb over the lip you just licked. His eyes burn with a low heat, like embers.

“Feeling high baby?” he whispers, leaning a bit closer, lips only a couple centimeters from yours. He’s gentle, holding your jaw, fingers pressing in on both sides now.

Your eyes are lidded and it feels like his rich voice physically melts through your skin, into your veins. You admire how pretty his face is, feeling your pussy throb. You bite your lip and nod, tickling a hand over his collarbone. He shivers.

“So high,” you giggle and whisper your next sentence, as if you’re telling him a secret. “Will you fuck me now…Touya?”

Touya’s fingers twitch before they slide down to wrap around your throat, squeezing lightly. The staples on his wrist scratch at your neck. He’s studying your face, letting his lips pull into a wicked grin. He moves forward, brushing his mouth against yours.

“With pleasure baby girl,” he rumbles, pressing the words into your lips. You moan into his mouth, kissing him slowly over and over.

You’re just starting to lick into his mouth when he puts pressure on your windpipe and you get the message, breaking the kiss with a whine.

He laughs softly as he releases your neck and you shift until you’re lying down flat on the bed, head resting on the pillow.

The change in position makes the room spin and you blink your eyes slowly. You’ve planted your feet on the bed, letting your legs fall open. Moving around makes your shirt rise up to your hips, slick pussy on display for Touya.

You’re so wet and it’s too hot in the room, your face heats again and sweat trails down your temple.

The only light in the room is from the TV you had turned on absently. Yet, you can still see Touya’s chest. He has his own light sheen of sweat covering his skin. His nipples are hard.

The white haired man maneuvers to get in between your thighs. He sits back on his calves, palms resting on the tops of your knee as he takes a look at your soft, pink pussy.

The sight makes his cock ache, straining to be free from his briefs. He feels his tip positively leaking, sticking to the soft material.

“C‘mere Touya,” you whine softly, reaching your arms out for him. His expression is relaxed, loving as he bends to your will, resting his forearms on either side of your head.

You wind your arms around his neck, pulling him down into another kiss. Your lips slide together eagerly. The heat between the two of you is blazing.

His bottom lip is rough but the texture makes you moan every time. He easily slips he tongue inside your mouth, rolling your tongues together and you bite the delicate muscle briefly. He lets out a low moan, breaking the kiss.

“Goddammit baby, I wanna fuck you so bad,” he groans, voice wrecked as he sucks marks in a line up your neck, gripping the hem of your shirt.

“Please,” you beg, the word sticking to the inside of your throat. Touya doesn’t hesitate, sitting back momentarily to free you of your shirt, throwing it somewhere behind him.

The air brings a slight chill, making your nipples hard. Goosebumps erupt along your chest and you groan. Touya rests his hands on your soft belly, dick jumping, drooling as he takes in your naked body. His large, warm palms cover most of the skin there, fingers splayed on your ribs.

His eyes are red and glossy as they trail over your tits, noticing your nipples are pretty little pebbles. God, he’s so hard, so fucking turned on.

He quickly shoves his underwear off, the urge to be naked swallowing him whole. His cock bobs free as it catches on the waistband of his briefs. You watch, catching sight of the curly white hair resting just above the base.

He settles again between your legs, gripping his shaft and squeezing briefly for some relief. His own touch feels electric and he moans through his teeth. He knows you’ll feel a thousand times better than his hand.

He’s quick to swipe his thumb between your pussy lips, parting them as he drags it up to your clit, starting to massage slow circles there.

You choke on an inhale, head feeling heavy. Your limbs feel like jello, warmth flowing through you. You hum, reaching out to wrap a hand around the silky smooth skin of his shaft. He lets out a broken moan when you pump his cock, letting his foreskin pull back.

“Touya, c’mon, pretty please? Don’t wanna wait,” you say with breathy sigh. You keep stroking his cock, twisting your wrist upwards and he groans, sounding breathless.

“You don’t have to ask me twice baby, you know how much I love fucking your sweet cunt,” he purrs, looking exactly like the Cheshire Cat.

He places a hand on each of your inner thighs, spreading you open a little more. You tilt your hips up a little, so you can guide his thick cock inside of you. You tease yourself, sliding his tip over your swollen clit. You let out a low curse as it sends electricity up your spine.

A short whine slips through Touya’s lips as the head of his cock presses in smoothly. You remove your hand, letting him do the rest as he stretches your pussy completely. You tilt your head back on the pillow as you start clenching around him.

“Oh, fu-nnngh! Touya, that feels so good!” you cry out, thoughts disjointed. You tremble at the overwhelming pleasure, white knuckling the pillow under you.

You’re sure you could cum just from the stretch of his cock alone. You chance a look at your boyfriend, panting.

His eyebrows are scrunched and he’s gritting his teeth, eyes locked on where he’s disappeared inside you. Warm pussy wrapped around him perfectly.

“Shit,” he curses lowly. “You’re so fucking tight,” he laughs incredulously rocking his hips shallowly.

His own mind is fuzzy, body high so intense he could sob. You lay there and take it beautifully as he starts to fuck you for real, slow and deep.

Your limbs are like lead, and you’ve all but become one with the mattress, the pleasure is all you can focus on. The sound of your skin smacking together makes your ears burn. You’re watching the way his fingers grip your thighs, the way the muscles in his lower abdomen flex with every thrust.

“You’re so fucking hot Touya, God - I can’t,” you all but sob. You can’t focus on anything else but the way his cock drags in and out of your pussy. Touya hums softly and leans forward, bracing his hands on the bed, caging you between. You look up at him through your lashes.

“What do you want baby? Hmm? Tell me,” he pants, voice smoldering. Your entire body flushes even hotter. Quirk raising up just below your skin and you keep your hands from the sheets for fear of turning them to ash.

Letting out a low moan, you grip his forearms, he can take the heat of your quirk. He sucks in a breath through his teeth when your scalding palms make contact with his skin.

You’re able to keep it under control for now. You take note of the way your tits bounce with each of his thrusts. He watches them, eyes almost unfocused, unfazed by the blistering heat of your palms, before his gaze locks with yours when you start to speak.

“Want you to fuck me from behind, please,” you mumble, words blending together as you try to keep your eyes open. The pleasure is making your brain feel thick.

“Fuck yes, turn that pretty ass around,” he agrees, leaning back and pulling his cock free. It bounces slightly and you notice he’s glistening from your slick, notching your arousal up by a few degrees.

You don’t waste a second, rolling over onto your belly. The sensation of moving underwater is what you would compare it to.

You raise up on your knees, showing off the curve of your spine as you rest your cheek on the mattress below. The sheets are soft, caressing your skin as you nuzzle against it, distractedly.

You’re gripping the sheets by your head when you feel Touya’s palm crack harshly against your ass making you jolt forward.

“Ah!” You whine into the sheets. He must’ve heated his hand, because you can feel your ass almost blistering from where he spanked you.

You assume that’s some sort of revenge from what you did to his forearms earlier. Not that it matters, the pain and pleasure mix together even better.

“Look at you, so obedient. You want me to fuck you like a dog, don’t you?” He teases, words sitting heavy on his tongue.

He grips the base of his cock and rubs the head between your lips, parting them easily.

You open your mouth to answer but you’re cut off. He’s already bullying his way back into you without abandon.

Touya grips your hips tight enough you worry he’s gripping the bone. His cock throbs, your pussy feels tighter this way.

It’s making his head spin, watching himself pull out, cock shiny and slick, before filling you once again. His heart thumps hard in his rib cage, thinking about just how much he fucking loves you.

“Oh god.” You shove your face into the mattress as Touya starts to move hard and fast. His cock filling you out perfectly with each thrust.

The friction is blistering, pleasure burning through your limbs. He presses his hands into your lower back, pushing the arch in your spine to its breaking point and he uses his weight to fuck you.

His cock bullies your sweet spot again and again, ripping muffled screams from your throat and into the mattress.

You’re starting to squirm under him, overly sensitive while he pushes you closer to your peak. You unconsciously try to crawl away from him, but he notices. You’ve started to fist the sheets again, for any kind of leverage.

“That’s the spot, isn’t baby? You’re so cute, trying to crawl away from me. You’re not fucking going anywhere. Be good, baby girl,” he demands, voice like gravel. He leans forward to brace one hand on the back of your neck, pinning you down.

He lets his other hand rest on the middle of your lower back, pressing down there too. How you’re able to keep your knees under you is beyond you. The first heavy thrust after that has you wailing, eyes stinging with tears.

“Fuck! Touya, right there, don’t stop,” you beg, feeling small underneath him. The pleasure is overwhelming. It’s not long at all before a knot starts to wind up taught in your lower abdomen. You try to warn him.

“Go ahead princess, I’ve got you. Cum for me, I want to feel it,” Touya purrs, bending forward to brace one hand by your head. The other still pining you down by the back of the neck.

The staples adorning his wrist feel cold against your overheated flesh. Oddly enough, the difference in temperature is what pushes you over the edge.

You cum, hard. Pussy fluttering, gripping Touya so tight you can’t believe he’s still sliding in and out of you. Heat gushes through you in waves, curling your toes.

“Oh!” you gasp, a pressure building in your bladder. “You’re gonna make me squirt,” you groan. Fingernails bite into your skin, warm breath is against your ear.

“Then fucking do it baby,” he breathes, never slowing his pace. A thrill runs through you, fingers curling in the sheets.

Pleasure ripples through you as you squirt. Soaking the sheets and Touya’s inner thighs. Your mouth stays open in a silent scream.

Touya moans in your ear, whispering words of encouragement. You feel his cock start to twitch inside you as you come down from your high.

Touya murmurs sweet nothings against your ear, letting you know he’s about to cum.

You let him know how much you want it, how much you want to feel him fill you up—and he does just that. Pressing all the way in until his balls fit against your pussy. 

Touya cums with a noise that sounds like it’s been punched from his chest. Huffing as he nudges your knees out from you, so you both collapse to the mattress.

You both catch you breath for a moment, Touya letting himself go soft before he makes a move to pull out. 

Touya rolls off you gently, onto his back. You breathe a sigh of relief, turning your head to see if his face.

“Are you okay?” he asks, voice gentle, cheeks flushed from the strenuous movements.

“I’m great,” you laugh, poking his ribs. He chuckles, giving you a half smile. “Can you get me a towel? Seeing as it’s your fault I’m a mess now,” you tease. Touya rolls his eyes playfully.

You roll over onto your back as retreats to get a towel, returning swiftly.

”Thank you,” you hum, cleaning yourself the best you can, not bothering to put clothes back on as you get under the blankets.

You sigh happily, turning on your side as the bed dips. Touya settles down facing you, snaking an arm around your waist to tug you closer.

“I love you,” you whisper, trailing your fingers down the side of his face, stopping to press on one of his staples under his eye. 

“I love you,” he replies, just as softly.

”I’ll follow you to hell, you know that, right?” You say, raising an eyebrow. He sighs, leaning forward to brush a kiss over your forehead.

“I know. I’ll incinerate the world for you, you know that, right?” He teases. You laugh softly, nodding as you kiss him once more.

#dabi smut #dabi x reader #mha smut #touya smut #todoroki touya x reader #touya x reader #todoroki touya smut #todoroki x reader #todoroki smut #mha x reader #mha dabi #mha todoroki

[kissyghosty]

Requesting on my knees a Jealous Ghost fic where he and reader have a situationship but he refuses to go pass the fwb stage. In swoops in Konig (in all his 6’10 glory) where he is just being all sweet and soft to reader - major difference from our gruff Ghost. The gentleness of Konig surprises reader and starts making her shy around him which ofc goes noticed by Ghost.

Ghost then goes feral and pulls reader back in - cos I just know this man is highkey possessive 😳🙏😫 you may decide if Konig is in to reader or not

me: haha this will be like 500 words

also me: [foolish, as this nearly hit 1.5k]

here is the ao3 link for this!

“You’re mine, you know that?” Ghost grows in your ear in the middle of the roughhousing. Even through the fog currently blurring your thoughts, you can hear the possessiveness in his gravelly voice. He’s plastered to your back, grinding down onto your ass in just a tease of what could--and likely would--happen.

Throughout the entire duration of your coupling, you do your best to show that you are his and only his. He grabs you roughly, moving you around like you weigh nothing at all, even for your stature. To him, you probably don’t, you think in the aftermath, the both of you struggling to even your breathing as you tuck into each other.

You’d be content to stay like that. Just the two of you sharing each others’ touch and warmth. You would even dare say you wanted it, just to anyone but the man himself.

“Just tonight?” You beg as he finally peels himself away from you. With how disconnected he feels so soon, it’s as if he hadn’t crawled to you in damn near desperation mere hours ago. “Please?”

Through the mask plastered to his face, you can still see his eyes darken. He doesn’t say anything audibly, but the notion isn’t left unnoticed. You’ve heard all the excuses from him before: ‘We can’t be caught together.’ ‘I don’t want to be a weakness to you.’ The countless times he’s mentioned something about ‘not deserving it’, even though he is here and he most certainly does deserve to be cared about and loved on. 

Reluctantly, you turn your back to him on the bed. He never says anything after deterring your begging. You never press, either. Still, it hurts, a tangible and heavy weight in your chest that feels an awful lot like rejection.

He slips out the door without another word.

*-+-*

Ghost keeps his distance from you after your little trysts. Purposefully tasking himself with paperwork or training or going on missions for what feels like just the sake of being away from you. 

That’s not true, your mind supplies. He’s just used to being busy. Give yourself some credit.

In the cafeteria, you sat in your usual spot, away but not far from the others, just on the outside of the group, enough that you felt social without actually interacting with anyone else. You pretend you’re engrossed with the pitiful meal in front of you, not noticing when someone approaches.

“Ah, pardon,” an accented voice interrupts your thoughts. “Do you mind if I sit here?”

You’re already saying the words before you think about it. “Not at all.” Realizing you just reflexively allowed a stranger near you,, you look up to take in who has decided to give you company and nearly gasp out loud. If you weren’t feeling shy and humble before, you certainly do now.

One of the KorTac recruits, if the patch for the company means anything. He towers over you, more so than Ghost does. The only detail you can see about his face is his eyes. Where Ghost’s eyes feel like they pierce into you when he looks, his eyes are soft and gentle. Judging by the way he’s holding himself (a respectable distance from you, still, veiled head tilted like a curious and inquisitive dog waiting to hear a keyword), his entire self is one gentle giant.

You gesture for him to sit. He does so, across the table from you, carefully settling down instead of haphazardly throwing himself onto the bench like most everyone else does. He hesitates to move any further, anxiously wringing his hands until you realize you’ve been staring. “Sorry, I…” you scramble for an excuse, but you have none.

This guy is simply absurdly attention grabbing. 

“It is alright,” he sheepishly brings one hand to rub at the back of his neck. “I understand that my stature may be somewhat of a shock to some.” He sounds damn near apologetic, like he had a choice in whether he was to be 6’10 or not.

“I think most of us are just surprised to be put in our place by you.” A palm comes up to rub your eye, needing to move to get jitters out of your system without being obvious. “You’re taller than the lieutenant, even. That’s impressive.”

As if summoned, Ghost stalks into the room, grabbing a tray and slinking over to sit with his subordinates. When you look away, you can still feel his eyes glaring daggers into you. The realization hits you like a train and you have to bite back a laugh.

That son of a bitch is jealous of you talking to the new guy.

“Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no. I, uh, just realized I never properly asked for your name, is all.”

“Of course,” he murmurs warmly. “My name--or, callsign, at least--is König.”

“Very fancy,” you stutter back. Good lord, König’s callsign is translated into ‘king’. It seems contradictory for someone so unwilling to grab attention. “It sounds nice, too.” Your eyes slide over to look at Ghost again. A smile splits your face when you can see the furrow in his brow as his glare deepens. Someone must ask what’s wrong, because he whips his head to seethe at them instead before standing up stiffly and walking away.

“Um,” König interrupts gently. “Is something wrong, friend?”

The way he says it must make your face color, because he ducks his head nervously, an apology already on the tip of his tongue.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you finally find your words. “L.T. is just taking interest in us talking. He must still be wary of you, somehow.”

“He seems very distant,” König ventures, speaking quietly as if Ghost would be able to hear over the commotion of the room. “Judgemental, even. I will admit, I am somewhat wary of him myself.”

You shrug. “It’s understandable with him. He doesn’t exactly make it easy to get to know him. He has his reasons, though.” When you look up from dazedly staring at the table, König’s eyes are wide and aimed behind you.

“Reason for what?” Ghost’s gruff voice comes from behind your back. You’re not sure if he’s trying to hide the angry tone to it, but if he is, it’s failing horribly. You turn around only to see Ghost glaring into König as if he wasn’t an ally but an enemy instead.

“A reason for you being so moody,” you scowl up at him, his eyes meeting yours. Oh, there’s absolutely something hidden in their depths: anger, contempt, and that same twinkle of jealousy you saw earlier. “You don’t exactly explain to others why you’re so goddamn hostile for no reason.”

���I have my fuckin’ reasons,” he growls. “And those reasons don’t need to be shown to people that don’t need to know them. Understood?”

König nods apprehensively, moving to gather his things and stand. “I should--uh, be going.” He nods his head to you and Ghost nervously. “It was very nice to meet you both.” Without another word, he strides away, not looking back, head hunched down into his shoulders.

You turn in your seat to give Ghost his own taste of a glare. “What’s your problem? He’s new; I didn’t want him to feel like an oddball by being rude to him.” You huff. “Though it seems you have no issue with it.”

Ghost stubbornly doesn’t respond. He never does when you call him out for things like this. Instead, when you turn away to continue eating, his gloved hand settles on your shoulder and grips, startling you. “He was getting too comfy with you,” he grunts petulantly. 

“He’s new,” you retort. “He needed someone to be comfy with, asshat.”

“I don’t think you understand.” Ghost voice is right in your ear now, making you involuntarily shiver. “More comfy than I wanted him to be. Do you need a reminder of who you belong to?”

Even with the warmth settling in your chest, you’re not fazed. “Dunno. You don’t exactly act like I belong to anyone, let alone you.” A low jab, for sure, but you were still irritated by the exclusively friends-with-benefits situation Ghost seemed to think you two had.

Ghost hums lecherously. “You want a reminder? Be at my quarters at 1900. I’ll do a thorough job of reminding you that you belong to someone.” With that, he stands straight and pats your shoulder as if he hadn’t just promised to meet you alone in his room later that evening. “In the meantime,” he says nonchalantly, “be ready for--what is it you wanted?--an overnight stay.” 

#ah christ i hate tagging #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #König #he makes an appearance and is v sweet. i do love him #mw2 #cod mw2 #requests

[moonlightspencie]

luna’s masterlist

(i write for criminal minds, supernatural, harry potter, and that’s about it for the time being, but MORE IMPORTANTLY i do take requests)

drabble masterlist here!

Aaron Hotchner

one shots:

Things I Can’t Say: “Aaron Hotchner has a lot of things on his mind. Most of which he can never bring himself to say. Until one slip unravels everything” (4.3k words: FLUFF).

Sleepover: “Hotch wants the reader, but doesn’t know how to tell her. Maybe a night in will be of some assistance” (4.9k words: FLUFF).

Solace: “Finding comfort in one another. Repeatedly.” (4.4k words: FLUFF)

self-assured: “There are many things Aaron Hotchner is sure about in his life. One thing evades this sureness: you” (2.4k words: FLUFF)

tolerate it: based on the song of the same title by taylor swift (2.0k words: ANGST)

Everything Goes Wrong: “A few bouts of bad luck aren’t all that bad” (2.4k words: FLUFF)

Meet-Cute: it’s all in the title (1k words: FLUFF)

series:

the sweetest con: “Aaron Hotchner is dealing with the aftermath of his divorce, and the new feelings that spring up for someone he shouldn’t feel anything for. It’s a mess to say the least, but it’s a mess he’s more than willing to involve himself in.”

Spencer Reid

one shots:

Next to You: “Trying to ignore the feelings you have for your best friend can cause complications. Especially when you find out what they’d risk for you” (3.8k words: FLUFF).

The Fulton Project: “The knowledge of an FBI operation gone wrong has the world as the BAU knows it turning on it’s head. How does something like this end after months of civil unrest?” (4k words: ANGST).

champagne problems/the beginning and end: based on ‘champagne problems’ by taylor swift, PLUS the prequel (2.9k words: ANGST AND FLUFF)

Devils Roll the Dice… / …Angels Roll Their Eyes “A new recruit to the BAU catches Reid’s eye. Unfortunately for the both of them, she has a past with someone very close to him. Are they willing to keep secrets just to keep one another?” (TWO-PART MINISERIES)(8.2k words for both parts: FLUFF)

lost in it: “The aftermath of falling down a rabbit hole!” (1.9k words: ANGST AND FLUFF)

Dean Winchester

one shots:

Wrong Time: “Dean doesn’t know how to act right. Sam doesn’t get the animosity. Reader is just trying to live life. Otherwise known as Mutual Pining: the Fanfic” (6.6k words: FLUFF).

This Ain’t for the Best: “Mutual pining. Classic hunting scenarios. Sharing a bed. Wearing the other’s clothes. Confessions. Friends to lovers. Tswizzle title. Need I say more?” (5.9k words: FLUFF)

bloodmoonlit: “Six years of friendship with more simmering beneath the surface. They thought they had no chance (but that’s romance)” (5.4k words: FLUFF).

‘cause look at your face!: [based off a request linked on the fic](1.6k words: FLUFF)

and i’m not how you hoped: “Forgive my northern attitude, oh I was raised out in the cold” (4.4k words: ANGST AND FLUFF)

series:

a life where we work out: “Struggling with the aftermath of a fall-out feels hopeless, especially when things seemed to just have run their course. Though, he was never one to let things go that easily.”

Ted Lasso

one shots:

Help Me Hold on to You: “Ted and the reader struggle with balancing mental health and everyday life. (Based on The Archer by Taylor Swift)” (8.9k words: ANGST AND FLUFF)

Speak Now: “You’re not usually the type of girl to barge in on a white-veil occasion… but the officiant did say ‘speak now’” (2.5k words: FLUFF).

Remus Lupin

one shots:

you should see the things we do, baby: Remus and Reader decide to take advantage of teasing Sirius, and it leads to a lot more than a dirty dream (5.2k words: SMUT. 18+)

series:

treacherous: This slope is treacherous, but you both realize that nothing safe is worth the drive. In which, Remus Lupin, ever the believer in his own flaws and failures, falls for someone he never expected to. (12.8k running word count: FLUFF AND ANGST)

Sirius Black

one shots:

you should see the things we do, baby: Remus and Reader decide to take advantage of teasing Sirius, and it leads to a lot more than a dirty dream (5.2k words: SMUT. 18+)

James Potter

one shots:

only like you can: ex boyfriend!james and reader just can’t seem to stay away from each other. (7.9k words: ANGST AND FLUFF)

tenderly, tragically: best friends aka idiots to lovers. they’ll never learn until they do (9.4k words: FLUFF AND SMUT)

darling, i fancy you: yet another idiots to lovers. this time a college/muggle!au. they’re falling slowly but she hates him openly (8.2k words: FLUFF)

Draco Malfoy

one shots:

isn’t it?: “Years after the battle at Hogwarts, reader runs into an unlikely old friend. A simple invitation to tea leads to much more.” (10k words: FLUFF)

#please don’t call me out for having a type. it’s evident. we can all see with our eyes #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #james potter #james potter x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #criminal minds #supernatural #marauders

[toomanythoughts4myhead]

A drop of poison goes a long way

Summary: More insight in Coriolanuses work life and the veil of what is going inside his past loves head is finaly revealed. Coriolanus is offered what he wants. Will it be his doom again?

Warnings: Coriolanus Snow and his brain; mentions of attempted murder, shooting, gun violence, prosthetic as result; Capitol people.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x reader

A/N: I am so sorry it took me this long to write this. December wasn't 🎄Decembering🎄 it was 📝Decembering📝. I hope you enjoy and I will try to be more on schedule. Hope yall enjoy.

[<-Prev. chapter][Masterlist][Next chapter->]

Coriolanus liked to think of himself as a sensible individual by Capitol standards, to say the least.

Then why has he been on the verge of ripping his hair out for the past day and a half?

Ever since Dr Gaul had presented to him his "fixed" songbird he has been in a state of mind unbecoming of the image he has built himself to be. He even had to cancel his lunch outing with Solicis Saddler, a hefty sponsor of the games with an odd bloodthirst for someone who was missing most of his natural teeth and had gotten a tacky golden replacement.

Dr Gaul hadn't allowed for him to take you home or stay long, not that he had been able to protest, eyes glued to your form like ot would set you on fire or make you crawl back in his arms. He didn't want to think about the consequences; he knew he had failed whatever test this was supposed to be. He should have remained stoic and proud, barely sparing you a glance. Instead, he gaped at you, hopefully with a closed mouth.

He had gotten used to troubling his mind with various plots and schemes before bed, usually that kept his mind at bay and away from you. Now, you came back in strutting to render him powerless over his own being. He felt stupid and weak, unsure who to hate more - himself or you.

He decides he hates you most.

After the encounter, he had gotten back in his car and gone to work, collecting himself now that you were out of sight. With the rise of popularity after the 11th and especially 12th game the making of the Hunger Games had become a lot more professional and lavish, the personal had expanded and even changed and added buildings to the office.

As a head game maker, he worked and operated over the main building, the center, and the gem of the whole operation. The building itself was in various shades of whites and blacks, and all in-between, a lot of the structure was from black and white marble with golden cracks. Coriolanus liked working there, in his expensive suits and office at the top of the building, overlooking the whole Capitol. he felt powerful, as he should. He was the one in control.

The main game makers teams were separated and had multiple departments that discussed locations, structures, finances, networking and so on and forth, anything needed for the games to run smoothly and be as entertaining as possible. He was the one who organized meetings and approved ideas and made sure they would also be reasonable by the almost limitless budget. This meant he technically worked only a few hours; the other time, he spent building ties and attending lunches and dinners that would benefit him. Technically, since he is the head and face of the operating, whatever helped him helped the community. So, no one complained or questioned him.

This day was horrible and he breezed by most of it, he felt that on the back of his mind he was reliving this morning over and over and decided its best not to interact with one of his best sponsors when not fully with hus mind. He had fumbled some excuse on his way back from work that he didn't feel good, which was partly true.

Now, the hot water of his shower was burning his skin as he increased it again. He didn't like the burning hot but thus was about discipline. I remember who he was now and for what eh stood. He wouldn't allow you to take this away from him again.

His sleep was troubled and came upon him way too late, his skin felt raw and sensitive from the waterx maybe he shouldn't over do it too much, he wouldn't like for people to notice. His carefully glided back curls were sticking everywhere, and he felt aggitated, but he fell asleep in the early hours of the morning. Not uncommon.

° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ ° ❄️ °

In the morning, he felt better. He rose with the same confidence he had adopted and went out for a run. At least his stay in the districts had taught him discipline and instilled the need to train his body, something all the spoiled and often drugged up or obese people of the Capitol seem to lack. It made him stand out, with his sculpted torso and wide shoulders, strong but not intimidating brutishly so, he filled out his shirts and suits in way he never could back when he was barely eating anything with substance.

It had snowed again last night, surely a good fortune. His sneakers left imprints in the still not cleared up paths in the near park, his breath fanned over his face in clouds of white smoke, he could feel the chilling air nip at his sides through the thin running clothes he had. He felt alive.

By this time, his avoxes were up and on the go, tending to the apartment and the his work clothes and breakfast. He knew their routine like the back of his hand, and so they didn't dare step out of it; it felt good. Each day he got the same royal treatment, no back talk (or any talk for that matter), after a while even he didn't have to talk to them, they knew what to do, he would often limited himself to simple commands. It was a pleasant start to his day since he had to deal with pompous arrogant moneybags for a living.

When he reached the street on which his apartment resided the sun was starting to turn the sky redish. He felt a faint sheen of sweat on his doby and shuddered as his body started to cool down from the exercise, what caught his attention was one of his avoxes waiting for him at the threshold of the apartment. Coriolanus raised an eyebrow as he approached, straightening his back and slowing down his breathing. Judging by the unsure look on their face he knew something had gone wrong, they weren't supposed to be here.

"Could you explain to me what you are doing outside?"

The avoxe looked up at him with gaze that held too much fear, sure he had punished avoxes before but not so cruelly. A mere doubling of chores or less food had been all he had done, merely disciplinary shows of power. The same way a dog needs to be taught, so do humans. The avoxe passed him a note, an envelope sealed with red wax in the capitols symbol. A message from the Citadel.

Coriolanus lifted an eyebrow. Receiving mail isn't exactly an out of the ordinary thing, he doesn't think it's really worth it freeze his ass of and catch something over a letter, but his gnawing intuition told him it was something bad. The realization seeped through and he felt an unpleasant churning in his timach as he ripped the envelope and read the letter.

It would hardly be called a letter since it consistented barely two sentences but It made his head spin.

"Take this as an encouragement from the staff of the Citadel for all your hard work. We hope you don't mind we clipped your Songbirds wings a little."

It wasn't signed but it didn't have to be. Who else could have scared his staff this badly but Dr Gaul? The implications of the letter set in and he barged into his apartment way too quickly, almaot shoving the avoxes down the stairs.

Snow fells and littered his floor, making wet spots on his white rug, but it wasn't the only thing tainting his apartment. There on his couch he found you, sitting cross-legged and fighting woth the decorative bouquet of roses on the coffee table. Your gaze snapped to him, watching hiw with curiosity and a startled look in your eyes as he stared back with such intensity it made you feel uncomfortable.

The hospital gown he had seen before had been switched for a creame white knitted dress that reached your knees and black leggings with boots, semi-useful for the weather and surprisingly basic for the extravagant taste of the Capitol. In the natural light seeping from the glass wall your prosthetic arm looked too natural. You looked too natural, unchanged, maybe even bettered by some fancy Capitol equipment.

What surprised him most was the way you looked at him.

He had spend a long time going over all possibilities of interactions between him and you, he had imagined a cold shoulder, yelling, screaming, maybe you would even try to attack him. But you looked at him with admiration, your face brightened as you placed your warm gaze on him. Not lovingly like before, you didn't seem to recognize him fully.

He walked closer until your knees were a hairstarnd away from his thigh and stopped. He didn't know how to react, he could feel the grasp of control he wielded best at his own house. You just had that effect on him, maybe it was the puppy smile on your face.

As he approaches you stand up, now he can clearly see the white bow on your head, truly wrapped like a present for him.

"Dr Gaul sends her warmest regards. And im here to thank you personally for all you have done for me."

Coriolanus despote everything found himself even more confused. Sure, he had done a lot of you: kept you alive during the Hunger games, cheat in the Hunger games for you, carry out some duty in district 12. He hadn't imagined you'd be thankful for it now. His lack of response must have confused you.

"I am so very thankful you saved me from the districts. I would have been left for dead if you hadnt sent your team of doctors to help me." - you add with a sweet genuine smile and loving gaze.

What?

"Well i couldnt leave my girl for dead among these animals. You know I'd do anything for you." - he smiled back and went as far as to gently grasp your hand in a sweet gesture.

He is grasping at loose straws here. It was evident that your memory was very... selective and altered. He could somewhat force himself to imagine that it was all due to the incident, but he knew better. This was all Dr Gauls idea and work. He needed to figure out more of the scenario Dr Gaul had constructed for you. And to find out how.

You seemed to like the gesture, squeezing his hand into your smaller one. Your hands were softer, not calloused or rough from playing guitar or surviving, but soft and inviting. Your nails were even done, he had to give it up.to the person in charge of your presentation, they had truly went all in.

"It all happened so fast, the doctors never filled me in fully of what exactly happened." - he said feigning ignorance and worry.

"It was horrible. After i returned i wanted to see my family so bad, but everyone turned on me. They chased me down through the forest because i had managed to get a glimpse of what thwy want - wealth and power, even if briefly from the Capitol. My own family tried to shoot me." - you said and it visibly made you upset, your voice became more uneven, wobbling lightly with along with your bottom lip.

Your own blood? You had no living family, you'd said so yourself before. It appears the lab team had decided to do this in the most dramatic way possible.

He put his thumb on your slightly trembling chin, running his knuckles over your reddening bottom lip and coo at you sympatheticly, as much as he could.

"My poor girl, im so sorry it took us this long to get you back and kicking. Those people certainly did a number on your poor body." - he ran his free hand up on the prosthetic bicep, it felt colder to the touch, not as squishy as human flesh and fat, but surprisingly close.

You nod into the palm of his hand, looking at him with big watery eyes. This is amazing, Coriolanus thought. He had you right how he always wanted you, under his thumb and eating out of his palm. You were like a frail little fawn waking up after the cruel winter had passed, everything is different but so so familiar. He would be your guide, he will show you the right way, he will be your light and your dark. You will worship and thank him for taking your control and responsibilities away.

All hate seemed to be burried for now, this opportunity made Coriolanus too excited, to have his favorite toy back. You weren't the girl who had sicked a snake on him, no, that girl was dead, trapped in her own body but permanently erased. Whatever he had now was the perfect doll with your face slapped on it.

"Oh my precious lamb, welcome home."

He cooed and tried to keep the sadistic glint in his eyes from showing too much. He put his arms around you, big hands digging into the warm material of your lower back, the rose ring on his pointer finger scraped the material. Your cheek was pressed against collarbone, nosing at his neck. Even a few seconds in his embrace and the sickeningly sweet smell of white roses was clinging to your whole body. Even a few minutes were enough for his poison to take root.

He runs his hands up and down your back, keeping you close. It felt good, to feel your warmth again, it made something tick in his brain whenever he felt your warmer weaker body against his. Call it animal instincts or a sick mind, neither are too far off.

"Ive missed you" he croons in your neck, his nose bumps your pulse point and it makes your head feel lighter. You are alsmot too loat in each other, but the feeling of being watched makes you open your eyes to find a nervous looking older woman. You instinctively true and pull away from Coriolanuses tight embrace but he doesn't let up, his hands just dig deeper into the fat on your hips and sides.

"Where do you think you are running off to? Are you not happy to be mine?" - he asked with a mocking tone but the intensity in his eyes never wavered.

"Corio, there is someone her-"

"Just an avoxe, no need to be shy. She wont say a peep." - replied clamly and stood back to his full height, keeping you good to his side like an accessory. Your face was held to his chest by the back of your neck, the hold wasn't strong but you hadnt tried to break free either. It made your cheeks burn a tad bit. "What seemes to be the problem?"

The woman stood still and pondered how to explain it without actual words but the loud bickering of an old man that could be also drunk and rattle of metal made Coriolanuses breath hitches for a moment.

Solicis Saddler.

He had promised dinner at his penthouse to make up for canceling, to go over the future plans of the games to keep the bloodthirsty man at bay and his wallet open for all gruesome scenes. Judging by his pompous screaming and yelling at his staff he had taken the invitation to heart.

Coriolanus had completely forgot about this. And it made him feel like the ever-growing tower that was his life was tilting, he was getting sloppy. He needed to focus again. He won't repeat the same mistakes.

Pressed against him, Coriolanus could feel you flinch as the octaves kept on getting louder. He needed to apologize to his neighbors tomorrow for all the chatter. He gave your waist a squeeze and kept you locked to him.

"Let him in."

(Not my best but lemme cook chat, i.swear ill do better next time.)

#books #movies #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #coriolanus snow #aesthetic #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus x you #manipulation #tbosas #young!coriolanus snow x reader #young!coriolanus snow #mind corruption #corrupt society #coriolanus snow x reader #corruption kink #tigris snow #snow #tbosbas #thg series #thg fanfiction #thg prequel #fem reader

[draeisgrayte]

Under the Goddess' Veil [TEASER]

A/n: This fic was a tad bit spur of the moment to take a break from rewriting some of Lady of Amberguard. Turns out I really like the idea and haven't been able to stop writing on it for 2 days. I will say this will be a bit of plot in the first 4 or 5 thousand words but from then on...dear Lord forgive me for the absolute FILTH I have planned.

Description: I'll give a silly one for right now, basically a maiden gets sacrificed to 5 dragons and a lot of fucking happens. The end.

Pairings: Obanai Iguro, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Giyuu Tomioka, Uzui Tengen, and Kyojuro Rengoku x reader

ENJOY!

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

“I was supposed to be sacrificed to you for the honor of my village…” You trail off, trying to connect the dots. You glance in the direction of Sanemi, his usually stern eyes softening when they connect with yours. “Are you going to eat me?” Your words sound pitiful, like you had accepted that fact already – and you had. You’d be raised on the single constant that you would be fed to the Gods atop the neverending tips.

Uzui appears in front of you, a lazy smirk playing with his lips as he leans down to be eye level with you. “Not in the way you’re thinking.” He purrs, rolling his smirk into his mouth.

Kyojuro pushes forward, his long hair whipping in the wind Obanai was still creating. “Your humans assume when we request a maiden to be given to us that we would feast upon her supple flesh,” He sighs, looking at Obanai as he speaks. “Every century our loneliness becomes unbearable. There was the occasional soul that attempted to harm us, wanting to take the hoard for themself, but that didn’t last long. Other draconics would visit us, but some of them would fight for our territory.” Your eyes are drawn to Sanemi again and his plethora of scars. He avoids your gaze at all costs, he finds the outer wall of the cave particularly interesting.

Kyojuro continues with a solemn smile. “Then one day a beautiful woman found her way into the lower tunnels. She came begging us to help her village, people were sick – dying. She was ready to give anything to us for the sake of the people.”

Uzui, who is leaning against the wall, pipes up again. “So she gave us her body.” Your brows knit together. Her body? What exactly did that mean? Kyojuro shoots him a glare before setting himself in front of your gaze, staring into your eyes.

“The women before you were scared, frightened of the big bad monsters within the Ponorich peaks. Most of them tried to escape with no avail…they would get lost and starve or stay within our sight and do the same thing. There were others that would find our hoard and selfishly conspire to harm us to take it.” Kyojuro’s eyes are bright swirls. “We want a mate, a bride.” Bride…you had dreamed about a day adorned with joy once. It had been a quick thought, squashed by the reality that you understood from a very young age. Though, now perhaps you could live the life that had been taken away from you.

The wind dies down and you quickly look behind to find Obanai stepping onto the edge in a graceful manner. He nods his head at you, an ethereal glow still present in his eyes. It made your stomach dip in the strangest way. "You can have one of us,” He waves his arm to the group of men, their eyes trained on you. Obanai steps forward, picking up your hands softly. You peer at him through your lashes. “Or all of us." He finishes. A distinguishing feeling glides through your very being. Something that tells you if you were going to die for the village the least you could do was live for them.

"I-I'd like to have all of you..." You stammer, your confidence dropping with every second. When did you decide to become so brazen? Here you were, a maiden surrounded by five men that surely looked upon you with heat and desire.

"Are you sure you can handle that little doe? Becoming the wife of five hungry dragons isn't going to be easy. You will ache when you are without us and you will ache when you are with us." Giyuu coos, placing a hand on your back. It sends licks of warmth that jolt to where you had never been touched.

“You will become ours in every way possible.” Uzui is now to your other side, hand upon your waist. “We will take you whenever we want,” A piece of hair falls to the side of his ear, distracting you for a moment until he brings your gaze back to him with fingers under your chin. “And you can take us whenever you want.”

Kyojuro hangs his arms around your shoulders, placing himself square behind you. The thin material of your slip does nothing to hide the warmth radiating off the man. “When our heat occurs you will have to be careful. One of us may ravish you and then two more join in.” He nudges your head with affection and your stomach stirs.

“Are you willing to make sacrifices?” Sanemi asks, still standing a few feet away from the huddle the rest of them had now created around you.

“I was raised to do so.” You reply, a confident nod moving your head.

#dragon smut #smut fanfiction #smut #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer headcanons #demon slayer smut #demon slayer #demon slayer giyuu #demon slayer kyojuro #demon slayer sanemi #demon slayer uzui #demonslayer obanai #iguro obanai #tengen uzui #tomioka giyuu #rengoku kyojuro #shinazugawa sanemi #kny giyuu #kny uzui #kny kyojuro #kny sanemi #kny obanai #kny smut #monster fucker #demon slayer x reader #kny x reader #serpent hashira #wind hashira #sound hashira #flame hashira

[victorialovesstiles]

Ray and his need to be actively chosen - another Only Friends ramble:

I made this post about how Ray uses threesomes as a way to validate to himself the depth of Sand’s feelings for him - and I have a lot of continued thoughts on the matter after the last episode.

Though Ray’s confidence was wavering when it came to the situation with Boeing. It was interesting to see Ray continue to use this method in Episode 11. It’s a real testament to the fractured way that Ray has learned to love and be loved.

Look at the way Ray takes a breath before telling Sand he can get in the pool naked. He closes his eyes and actually considers what he’s about to say before saying it (for once). But ultimately he’s compelled by his need to actively be chosen by Sand, and his awareness that he doesn’t know any other way to get the validation he’s missing:

In all of Ray’s past “suggestions”, he was sure Sand would reject the idea (see linked post for the reason why Ray had this confidence). And because he was sure Sand would say no, Ray would usually ask teasingly, with a smirk and tongue in cheek attitude.

But that doesn’t happen here…

Here, Ray is worried, he is afraid of Sand’s answer. The small smile he gives Sand does little to veil his real intention - which is to test Sand.

And Sand passes, he rejects the precarious situation. He doesn’t want to get naked (and in turn be naked with Boeing).

In earlier scenes when Sand refused these types of suggestions (when he gave Ray the answer he was looking for) we’d get a smug look from Ray. A sort of “I knew it” face:

That also doesn’t happen here. Even though Sand passed the test, Ray couldn’t take any solace in it because he didn’t “know it” - he wasn’t actually sure what Sand would decide… there’s not an ounce of smugness on Ray’s face after Sand’s answer:

I think a big part of this is because Sand already failed test number one.

The last time Ray used his pool as a suggestion to “continue the night” was the first time Ray tested Sand with Amm:

And with Amm, Sand shut it down immediately. Sand actively chose to go with Ray, alone, even over a one night stand (not to mention this is also the first night SandRay gets together).

But with Boeing, Sand shuts it down in a very different way. He doesn’t choose to go with Ray, and instead tells Ray to go home without him:

This doesn’t work for Ray, this is a failed test. To Ray, Sand let Boeing come over, let them get in the pool, let Boeing continue to flirt and make eyes at him. To Ray, this is uncharted territory - Sand is not acting like Sand, Sand is not actively choosing him…

I’m not surprised that Ray continues to test Sand in the next episode.

He will likely continue to push and push and push until Sand (in his mind) chooses him, actively and enthusiastically.

#firstkhao #only friends the series #sandray #first kanaphan #khaotung thanawat #only friends ray #only friends sand #only friends series #raysand #firstkhaotung #ofts #ofts meta #only friends series episode 11 #only friends #only friends meta

[copperbadge]

If its not too personal could you talk about what was the inspiration for Michaelis? He's got a lot of depth to him, especially for what could have been a one off character in the background after Fete. Also the way he mourns but carries on really resonates with me in Jes.

Oh sure! I mean, on the one hand it is quite personal but it's a kind of personal I really enjoy sharing. :D Michaelis began life as the Standard Hallmark Parent -- you see them a lot in the movies, the parent who is

1. Kinda grouchy

2. Usually pushing their kid slightly too hard in slightly the wrong direction (with the best of intentions)

3. Often a widow/er

4. Practically a cameo designed to stress out the lead, but easily attractive enough that they could be romantic lead themselves in the sequel.

There are actually several Hallmark films where the over-sixty characters are either the supporting romance in a one-off film or the main romance of a sequel film. (The Wedding Veil films, which despite their flaws are actually very enjoyable, have a Michaelis-like character for the mother of the male lead in the first movie, and she then becomes the major supporting romantic lead in the fourth movie.)

By the time I got to Michaelis talking to Eddie at the end of the script for Fete, I'd grown to really like him. When I adapted the script to a novel, I liked him even more. I thought that I could do a sequel with him getting jolted out of himself a bit -- and I was encouraged by how many people liked him in the initial read through. The main inspirations for the actual plot of Infinite Jes were, one, Gregory jokingly suggesting he do a podcast, and two, Michaelis's defensive dismissal of Gregory's question about what he's done for companionship since Miranda passed.

Over the course of writing Infinite Jes, he came to be a collection of themes I've explored or wanted to explore, sometimes themes I knew I wasn't skilled enough to handle yet. The core of him is based on a professor I worked with as a student; the confidence that occasionally tips into arrogance, the keen intellect that likes to take things apart, the ability to look at some toxic family traits and decide "RIP but I'm different" and be a present, nurturing masculine figure, all come from that professor, who had a huge impact on me.

But I have also been fascinated for decades now by a certain kind of character in fiction, someone who has had a devastating loss and keeps going, even if they aren't driven by something like revenge. Profound grief is difficult and fascinating for me, and I finally felt capable of exploring that fully, perhaps because the pressure on romance novels is a bit lower at times.

And honestly, a lot of him is me, processing the fact that I am aging in fandom. I'm older (44) than the oldest person I knew in fandom (38) when I joined it at the age of 14. I have, for lack of a better word, a position in fandom, a status, that affords me certain perks and requires of me certain obligations. Not to call myself elected king of fandom ("I didn't vote for him!") but the duty I feel to fandom, both as a culture that raised me and a found family, is very similar.

Most of my characters contain some of me, but Michaelis and Jerry contain far more of me than most, perhaps because I'm in a place to do some reflection. Michaelis -- intelligent, experienced, hopefully a mentor, but also lonely and detached at times -- is who I'm coming to grips with being; Jerry, the charming fuckup with power but no real clue how to use it, who is doing his best to grow up a little later than a lot of his peers and figure out how disability fits into his identity, is who I still see myself as.

So yeah -- I find Michaelis incredibly fun and compelling to write for, and I think that's because I had hit a skill level in my work where I could combine a lot of tropes and themes into one character and use him to explore why I enjoy them so much. But he definitely began life as the Hallmark Widowed Dad. :D Well, there are worse origin stories.

#shivadhverse #writing

[cilil]

Headcanons: The Day of Love

I felt spontaneously inspired to write down my headcanons (yes, I've thought of this before a few times) for Valentine's Day in Valinor, or, as it's known there, the Day of Love, featuring both Ainur and Elves. Enjoy!

♡ The establishment of a dedicated holiday to celebrate couples and other forms of love and companionship was, as certain people (*cough* Melkor) would snidely remark in later ages, most likely inevitable due to Manwë being a hopeless romantic and Irmo's penchant for playing matchmaker (and subsequently winning bets he made with his wife and siblings).

♡ After Tulkas and Nessa were wed - within the circles of Arda, unlike the other Valar who espoused their partners earlier - Manwë was inspired to take action and create this holiday, as everyone had greatly enjoyed the festivities and many wished to have the opportunity to express their affection for their loved ones in a similar manner, without the pomp of a wedding.

♡ It was decided that the Day of Love would be in spring, as per Vána's suggestion. To this day, there's still some debate among the inhabitants of Valinor whether she simply thought the season was appropriate or whether she was making a thinly veiled mating season joke; the Ever-young, however, has declined to comment on this. It takes place in the month of Súlimë (March), much to the delight of Manwë, usually within the third week since this is (roughly) the beginning of the season, as determined by Yavanna and Vána.

♡ Over the ages, various traditions evolved. Among the first and most notable to this day is Manwë's poetry soirée, where everyone is invited to share their romantic poems and other writings - a special iteration of his regular writing group get-togethers that strives to be as inclusive and affirming as possible. Ever since the first Day of Love was celebrated, Manwë has written a new poem for his beloved queen every single year, and Varda shows her appreciation with breath-taking meteor showers. The event has naturally become important to the Vanyar in particular, especially those who are regulars among Manwë's fellow poetry enjoyers.

♡ Irmo and Estë take great pleasure in hosting a "casual tea time feast" (as described by the Lord of Lórien himself) that welcomes not only couples or friend groups, but also explicitly those who feel lonely on such a day and would like some easy company. While Estë and her Maiar serve herbal teas for health and good spirits and bake lots of delicious cakes and other treats, Irmo prepares his (in)famous punch which so far has never failed to get a party going and distributes special "love candy" that has also come under scrutiny a few times, but is still consumed with great delight by those who dare.

♡ Aside from (more or less) innocent tea party shenanigans, Irmo is wide awake on the Day of Love for different reasons as well, mutating into the kind of entity we know as Cupid. The use of arrows has been forbidden, but that does little to stop the Lord of Dreams and Desire from making his OTPs come true by providing a little bit of "assistance". He gleefully plants courage and inspiration into the hearts and minds of Ainur and Elves alike, so that they may finally confess those feelings they have been carrying around for too long. It has been alleged that he has attempted to play bingo with his brother in regards to these things coming to pass, yet nothing could be proven and Námo, as usual, was silent.

♡ Oromë, being in good spirits as hunting season is drawing near, likes to host a special hunting events where couples (and throuples and so on, naturally) can either compete against each other or team up to hunt and see if their love is strong enough to catch even the greatest prey. While it's all in good fun and the competitive side isn't taken seriously, Oromë and his people do hold the belief that the ability to work together and cooperate, as well as engaging in friendly, playful competitions without hostility or ill will, are important parts of a relationship of any kind and thus can be a good test for couples looking to get married in particular. It is also worth noting that the hunting duels of Aredhel and Celegorm have become particularly infamous and are to this day lauded as a great example.

♡ Tulkas, as always, is looking for a fun little fight and a good laugh, and those sharing his passion are welcome in his mansion for a special kind of celebration. Many Elves and Ainur alike seek to prove themselves in battle against their peers to win the affection and admiration of whoever they wish to court, as well as engage in friendly duels with their friends and loved ones. Making sure that everything is as fair as it can be, Tulkas presides over these fights with glowing pride and invites all participants to attend a great feast after.

♡ Said feast is usually coupled with a special performance by Nessa and her Maiar, as well as others who wish to join them, and afterwards everyone is invited to dance with their partners. It is not unusual for non-martially-inclined couples to spend their day elsewhere but attend Nessa's dance party in the evening, and oftentimes the lord and lady can also be seen on the dance floor together.

♡ For Yavanna and Vána, the Day of Love is yet another instance of their boundless generosity. The two Valier share their gifts and boons freely, providing flowers, fruits and materials for the crafting of presents; sometimes even advice to those who seek it. Year after year, their husbands show their gratitude - as well as vicariously for the rest of Valinor - by crafting and hunting special gifts for them, and it is said that the trees and flowers bloom even more beautifully on that day to celebrate their ladies' joy.

♡ Among the Elves, traditions are varied as well. Particularly famous is the pearl-diving of the Teleri, a test of both courage and skill where young and old lovers alike venture out into the sea and seek to find the most beautiful pearls to bring home to their partners. Ulmo gives his blessings freely to all who attempt such a feat and, together with his Maiar, makes sure that everyone returns home safely; over the years, many a daring Elf had to be fished out of more perilous waters. These pearls - and other treasures that were found - are particularly precious to the Teleri and objects crafted from or with them may even become family heirlooms.

♡ The Noldor, together with Aulë, Vairë and their Maiar, spend a lot of time before the Day of Love crafting wonderful gifts for their loved ones. These creations are a matter of great pride and may hold a lot of different, intricate meanings, often being a key component in courtship. Aside from all sorts of trinkets, couples are often seen exchanging promise jewelry. A particularly noteworthy occurrence over the years was the unveiling of a great Fëanor statue, made by none other than Nerdanel during their courtship, and to this day spectators claim that they have never seen Fëanor this speechless before or after.

♡ The Vanyar, aside from attending the festivities in Ilmarin, are also fond of music and love to sing or otherwise perform for their loved ones. Such performances are often done with special costumes and instruments, and the gifting of instruments is regarded as something especially intimate and meaningful. Those among the Maiar of Manwë and Varda who are not too fond of poetry like to join the Vanyar instead, offering their own songs and arts as entertainment. Eönwë and other avian Ainur are regularly asked for their feathers and even grow special plumage to accommodate these requests.

Thanks for reading! Feel free to take inspiration from these (though as always a little shout-out is appreciated if you create your own stuff based on this post ♡).

#the day of love #headcanons #my headcanons #silmarillion #elves #noldor #teleri #vanyar #ainur #manwe #irmo #este #orome #vana #tulkas #nessa #yavanna #aule #aredhel #celegorm #feanor #nerdanel #ulmo #valinor #valentines day

[orange-peony]

An ask game for writers to procrastinate working on your WIP(s)

Thanks for tagging me @wellbelesbian!

1. 🦈Tell us the name of your/ one of your WIP(s):

I'm actively working on "Home sweet home" and "Thorns", but I also have a few stories at planning stage with various titles.

2. 🍄Describe your WIP/one of your WIP(s) in the format of “___ + ___ =___”

Hallmark movie + snowbaz = a lovely mess

3. 🌍What tags or warnings will one of your WIP(s) need if you intend to share it?

The drarry one has PTSD as a warning, the snowbaz one has Fiona's mad chihuahua and a very thirsty Simon + Baz. And Dev deserves a tag for himself, as per usual.

4. 🧭An alternative title to one of your WIP(s)?

I've got one with an interesting temporary title, but I don't know if I'm going to post it for an anon fest, so I can't share it.

Let's go for the snowbaz one "The veil opens again" (the title will most likely change - it's set 20 years in the future when the veil opens and married snowbaz with their kids visit Watford, so that Baz can see Natasha again, and then Lucy also appears).

5. ⚠️Which WIP your most likely to finish or update next?

I'm trying to work on alternate weeks on my drarry and snowbaz BB, also because one is kind of angsty and the other one pretty light, so it's easier for my mood. The snowbaz will post first because it's due sooner.

6. 💾What is your document of your WIP/ a WIP called? (not the stories actual title but what you’ve saved it as)

They're organised by fandom, and the folders usually have the title of the fic, unless I haven't decided on a title yet. I have a "multiverse" one and a "soulmates" folder.

7. 🖍Post Any sentence(s) from your WIP.

Drarry - “I forgot to mention that I’m an Unspeakable,” Draco says.

Snowbaz - “Well, I would kiss you.” I don’t know why I said that. Fuck.

8. ♻️A scrapped idea for your current WIP.

Some super angsty subplot that I decided to ditch because it made me want to cry. 😭

9. 🤔What’s a story you’d love to write but haven’t even started yet?

I'd love to write a drarry multiverse, but I also have a couple of drarry fics that I've planned but haven't got the chance to start writing yet (one is a soulmate fic and the other one features professional scapegoat Draco). As for snowbaz, I'd love to write another AU.

10. 🤡How many WIPS are you actively working on?

I'm actively working on 2 - my drarry and snowbaz BB fics.

11. 🛠Is there a scene or anything in the WIP you are struggling with right now?

Draco is being a lot softer than he was meant to be, and Harry was supposed to be angrier, so I'm struggling a bit with a scene, but I'm getting there (I hope).

12. ❤️Not a question, just a second Kudos to send.

A shower of kudos to you all! 💙

Tagging (no pressure): @bubble-gumhead, @artsyunderstudy, @hushed-chorus, @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @peachpety, @lumosatnight, @facewithoutheart, @martsonmars, @cutestkilla, @thewholelemon, @larkral, @fatalfangirl, @cassiaratheslytherpuff and anyone who wants to do it (just say that I've tagged you!)

#ask #writing #my writing

[dilf-din]

A Million Little Heartbeats

Pairing: Joel & Ellie

WC: 2650

Warnings: none, maybe light language, the fluffiest fluff

A/N: I absolutely adore these two. They control my brain. Please enjoy Ellie surprising Joel on his birthday.

Ellie looked nervously across the table at Tommy and Maria, brows knit together and chewing her lip. She was too scared to be hopeful yet. The idea came to her on a whim, and, well, that whim became a carefully mapped out trip for her and Joel.

Maria looked down at the map and back to Tommy. He was bent over their kitchen table carefully tracing the route with his pointer finger. Ellie could tell by their body language that an entire unspoken conversation was happening. Eyes flitting back and forth from the worn atlas pages to the other’s face. Because it was regarding his brother, Maria decided to default to Tommy, trusting his judgement.

“Looks good to me, Ellie girl,” he said with a soft smile, straightening his posture to look her head on.

“Sooo, we can go?” she asked slowly.

Maria took one last look at Tommy who broke out in a toothy grin, “You can go.”

Ellie yelped and rushed to hug him, “Thank you both so much. I think it’ll really mean a lot to him.”

“It will,” Tommy said with a mix of joy and sadness in his eyes. The veil of grief lifted slightly to show what really lay behind his usually cheerful facade.

“I’ll need your help convincing him,” Ellie explained, gathering the map in her hands to carefully tuck into her backpack.

“I’ll take care of it,” Tommy winked.

Joel was supposed to be meeting them soon for supper at Tommy and Maria’s. He was finishing up some repairs on the livestock fence, replacing the rotted boards with strong, new ones.

Ellie was so excited she felt like her heart was going to beat straight out of her chest and start skipping around the room with her. She had to play it cool though. Joel knew her too well to let a particularly anxious mood go unnoticed. Thankfully, Maria emerged with Jonah on her hip, the perfect distraction for the way her mind was currently spinning in circles. He made grabby hands to Ellie who happily took him into her arms.

“Hey buddy!” she grinned as he threw his arms around her neck in a warm embrace, his wild curls squishing against her cheek. “Do you want to pick out a movie to watch before dinner?”

“Balto!” he yelled, kicking his feet as Ellie made her way to their tv. They didn’t have a huge movie selection, a couple of cartoons that Jonah liked to sift through. His current fixation was with the wolves in Balto, but Ellie really liked the days he picked the Iron Giant. She popped the tape into their VHS player and sat on the floor in front of their couch. She pulled a faded throw pillow off and tucked it between her legs to make a seat that Jonah gladly took, tucking himself back against her chest while the slightly fuzzy commercials started playing.

Joel came in a few minutes later, wiping his boots on the mat before closing the door behind himself. He smiled at the sight of his nephew snuggled up with Ellie as they watched the same movie for easily the hundredth time. He thought fondly of sitting in that same position with Sarah watching Free Willy over and over. Her love for animals dictated even her movie choices at that age.

“Get it all fixed up, big brother?” Tommy asked clapping him on the shoulder.

“Shouldn’t be any more lambs sneaking into the greenhouse,” he said confidently, shedding his jacket to make his way into the kitchen with the other adults.

Dinner went on without a hitch. Maria prepared some delicious chicken and rice in a cream sauce. She used some of the last of the late summer blackberries to whip up a simple cobbler for dessert.

Once they had all had their fill and pushed back from the table, Maria led the attack.

“So, Joel, I understand you have a birthday coming up,” she said coolly.

He snorted and shrugged, “Just another day.”

“What if you did something this year?” Tommy suggested nonchalantly, jaw resting in his hand, elbow propped up on the table.

Joel drew his eyebrows together, “Now hold on, what’s goin—“

“I want to take you to Colorado!” Ellie blurted.

Joel turned to face her. “Colorado? What? Why?”

“I’ve got it all mapped out and everything. It’s a surprise though, you can’t know until we get there,” she said quickly, grabbing the map from her bag and shoving it into his hands.

Joel looked from the map across the table to his brother with confusion painted on his face.

“That’ll take weeks, we can’t jus—“

“Maria said yes,” Ellie quickly cut him off.

Maria nodded, the look on her face confirming the accusation. “We can spare you two and a couple of horses for that long. As long as you look around and try to bring back anything you think could be useful, that’s all I ask,” she said with a shrug, drawing a long sip of coffee from the faded blue mug in front of her.

“We’d need to leave by Saturday if we’re gonna get there on time,” Ellie explained outlining the carefully drawn route she had agonized over.

“Alright, kiddo, you lead the way,” he smiled at her, eyes crinkling at the edges.

She smiled warmly while he laced an arm around her waist and brought her in for a squeeze, pressing a small kiss to her bare arm.

The pair spent the next few days gathering supplies and packing their bags. They counted on being able to hunt for most of their meals, bringing a large stash of jerky as a last resort. Ellie was getting pretty good with a rifle. She was itching to be able to join the patrol rotation in the spring when she turned eighteen.

Joel kept trying to get her to slip up and tell her the reason for the trip, but she just rolled her eyes every time.

“I’m not telling you, so quit guessing.”

Saturday morning rolled around, and the two were at the stables at dawn loading up their horses. Joel was on Callus, Ellie paired with a white and grey speckled mare named Andromeda. At least that’s what Ellie called her. She’s always picked stars and constellations saying their given names were too boring.

With a couple of extra bags secured for supplies to bring back, the two headed out, Ellie taking the lead. The last of the August heat had faded as September swept in with a chill. Ellie had the sleeves of her flannel rolled up, and the hairs on the bits of her forearm that were exposed were standing on end. Her hair was getting longer, she had taken to pulling half of it back to keep it out of her eyes just like Tess wore it. Whether that decision was subconscious or an homage to their fallen friend, the small reminder sent a pang through Joel’s chest the first few times he saw her like that.

He sat back in awe, reveling in how much she had grown since they first met in Boston. He never thought he’d get another chance to see a kid grow up. It’s like she picked up right where Sarah left off, a little gift from the universe to mend his heart back together.

After they had been on the road for about an hour, Joel spoke up, “Can I get some puns, Ellie girl?”

She turned over her shoulder to give him a mischievous grin. “I came prepared!” she called back, waving No Pun Intended Vol. 2 in the air. She had tied it to her waist with her jacket for easy access. She flipped to the spot she had dog-eared and let out a groan, “Aw man, this page is ripped.”

“Oh no,” Joel called back.

“Yeah, it’s pretty tear-able.”

“Jesus,” he snorted, erupting into a chuckle.

They took 191 South straight down into Utah, only making it in to Colorado with two days remaining of their three week trek.

They settled for the night just after crossing the state line as indicated by the faded road sign they passed, settling by an old rest stop Joel said was for tractor trailers that used to drive across the country. They fed and watered the horses and set up camp on the backside of the concrete structure. The pair had been lucky enough to not see another soul so far, but he had reluctantly agreed to split the watch shifts with Ellie so they could both get some rest.

A few days back, they had found some canned goods, and so were helping themselves to a meal of jerky, lima beans, and corn. They fire crackled like popcorn kernels jumping from their shells. Joel said that meant the wood had a little extra moisture in it and hadn’t dried properly.

“Are you gonna tell me where we’re goin’ now?”

“We’re headed towards the White River,” Ellie responded, scraping the last bits of corn out of the can with her fork and setting it beside her with a contented sigh.

“Towards?” he raised his eyebrow questioningly.

“Will you just trust me old man? No more questions,” she chastised, her tone of voice lighthearted.

“Fine,” he grumbled, trying to seem discontent, but, truthfully, he had loved all the one on one time this trip had provided them. Between school, running around with her friends, and spending every free second at the stables, Joel felt like he was losing his grip on her. Not that he held with a tight fist by any means, but she was growing up, branching out. It hurt like hell and was beautiful all at the same time, like watching your baby taking their first wobbly steps, knowing you need to keep your distance or they’ll never keep going. But the fear of seeing them fall was thick in the air, even if it would only hurt for a second. He experienced this with Sarah, but never to this degree. If Sarah made it to her age, she’d probably have a license, a job, a boyfriend. Joel smiled sadly into the flames, eyes flitting to his shattered watch face. What he wouldn’t give to hold her just one more time.

“I’ll take first watch,” Ellie announced, standing up and breaking his concentration.

He nodded and pulled out his sleeping bag. Ellie tossed him hers so he could double up and try to take some of the sharpness out of the hard ground. He fell asleep thinking of Sarah, of her melodic laugh and soft brown eyes. He didn’t often get good dreams of her, even still, so he held on to this one with white knuckles.

Ellie saw him tensing in his sleep, fists clenching and unclenching. She wondering if the nightmares would ever fade for either of them. If he was still fighting his monsters, she figured she would be for a long, long time. Sentenced to a life of dreading evening’s gentle tide that would inevitably turn into thrashing waves.

Just one more day of traveling, she told herself, this would all be worth it, make everything feel a little lighter.

Another day of travel brought them another twenty miles closer. They would reach their destination by early the following morning, landing perfectly on Joel’s birthday. Ellie hoped with everything she knew how that everything would work out, that they would still be there. What if she brought him all this way for nothing. He noticed how she had retreated into herself the closer they got to her pencil mark on the map.

On the morning of his birthday, they packed up early to head out by dawn. Just one more quick stint and they’d be able to settle down for a few days, let the horses rest.

They had broken away from the highway long ago. The usual clopping of hooves muffled by soft grass underfoot. A low fog hung over the ground, the glimmering green blades longing for the sun’s rays to warm their bones once again. Soft light was breaking through the trees overhead, streaming through the gaps in the branches where the leaves had already let go. Ellie hadn’t said a word the whole time.

Joel cleared his throat, deciding to speak to the palpable apprehension he sensed, “Ellie? I just wanted you to know, darlin’, that even if this doesn’t work out the way you planned,” he paused, “Even if we can’t find what you were hoping for, I really loved spending this time with you kiddo.”

Right when he said that, something caught her eye in the clearing. She tried not to scream with excitement.

“We’re here!” she announced triumphantly. She pulled back on Andromeda’s reins to stop her completely. Joel followed suit, swinging down from Callus with ease. Ellie had been following the signs leading them through a long forgotten park. There was a bit of a fence left near the clearing that they tied the horses too, planning to let them free to roll in the grass and stretch their legs the rest of the day.

“So what’s the big deal?” Joel asked, trailing behind Ellie as they neared the edge of the clearing that stopped at the top of a hill.

“Shhh,” Ellie hushed him, grabbing his hand to lead him forward.

Below them lay a valley filled with thousands of monarch butterflies. Most of them were resting in the cooler, shaded part, but where the sun’s rays had crested the treetops and gently floated down to the ground, there were hundreds of them already in the air. Flashes of orange and black against the cloudless sky.

“I thought you might wanna spend your birthday with Sarah this year,” she said sheepishly, suddenly overcome with the feeling that he might think this was a stupid gesture.

Joel pulled her into a tight hug. Her arms reluctantly wrapped around him.

“Thank you, baby,” was all he could choke out. Joel tried his best to blink back the tears, but a few streamed down his cheeks.

When he finally pulled away, Ellie cleared her throat this time, “They don’t stay forever, let’s get down there,” she smiled.

Joel returned the smile and took her hand back in his. Together, they carefully made their way down the hill, still slick from dew, until they found themselves carefully stepping over the still sleeping creatures.

The butterflies seemed utterly unbothered by their presence, floating close enough to touch. Joel lifted a finger out and one immediately lit on it. He tried to keep his chuckle in, not wanting to startle it.

Ellie couldn’t keep the grin off her face. She had never seen him look so young, so alive. She let him make his way over to a rock jutting out from the opposite hill walling in the valley. He sat down on it carefully and stilled his breathing. Sure enough, four, five, six monarchs were resting on him. Ellie pulled her sketchbook out of her backpack and started outlining the scene. She spread out on a particularly sunny patch of grass, stretched out on her stomach with her legs straight behind her, and got to work.

They stayed there for a long time. The monarchs woke up in waves as the sun climbed higher in the sky, then they were off to continue their journey.

When there were only a few dozen left, Joel broke the silence.

“Man, she would’ve loved this,” he said wistfully.

“Hopefully you did too,” Ellie said sleepily, pulling herself up from her spot in the grass and crossing closer to him.

“How could I not? Got to spend the day with both of my girls,” he smiled, pulling her in for another embrace.

“Joel, look,” she gasped, pointing to the sky as another wave flew directly overhead the valley.

#tlou fic #the last of us fic #the last of us fluff #joel miller #ellie williams #joel and ellie #if you ship them I’ll slash your tires

[phoenixyfriend]

hi, What do you Think a twilight starWars crossover would Look like¿

send me an au and i’ll give you 5+ headcanons about it

This ask meme is from over a year ago. Please don't send new prompts.

I think we ought to go full on intrusive crossover here. Couple of SW characters get dumped in Twilight via Weird Sith Temple. Somewhere midway through New Moon, after Edward leaves but before Bella starts clawing her way out of depression, some new people show up in town. "Ben," Anakin, and Ahsoka. (Obi-Wan quickly realized that his full name got weirder looks than the others, and Ben didn't, so he shifted.)

Ahsoka doesn't go out much, but fully disguises herself when she does. It involves a whole lot of tattoo-coverup foundation to disguise her marks, keeping her mouth mostly closed when she talks to hide her peculiar teeth, and wraps her lekku and montrals up in a weird way that ends up looking like a cross between horned hennin (the medieval veil horns, think "Disney's Descendants" Maleficent) and a hijab (deeply uncomfortable, because this is not her religion and, even if there are other religions that engage in similar coverage, she doesn't belong to any of them). It nets her a decent amount of attention, which she hates, so she usually stays in the small house they've gotten, or runs off to spend time alone or with Anakin in the forest. With the Force, she can stay warned of random hikers well enough to avoid running into strangers when she isn't in disguise.

Since Anakin and Obi-Wan are both too old for high school and do not have any interest in it anyway, and Ahsoka's definitely not going to do anything in that regard because she's not going out into public unless she absolutely has to, we do not have the usual Twilight crossover situation of running into people at high school. Instead, there are three separate incidents that lead to these lives intersecting: - Obi-Wan gets investigated by Charlie, because quite frankly people are concerned about His Daughter being such a shut-in and Charlie figured he'd check in personally before trying to get CPS involved. - Bella's old truck has a problem, and before she can take it to a mechanic or call Jacob (as suggested by Charlie), that Weird New Guy who's a few years older than her sees her staring under the hood of her truck with a look of pure confusion. - Ahsoka, who can usually avoid people in the forest, runs into one of the early pack members, who are much much faster than the humans she's been doing just fine circling around. Paul or Sam, probably.

Results: - Obi-Wan manages to talk his way out of trouble by being himself, but also by successfully explaining that Ahsoka, due to some bodily traits she was born with, finds herself very uncomfortable in public due to people staring at her, which does get corroborated by Ahsoka herself a few days later. - Bella, who gets 'this is a weird ass person who is very dangerous' vibes from Anakin, feels alive for the first time in months. She decides to seek him out for more of Danger Adrenaline Wakefulness to combat her debilitating depression. He handles this by deciding she should learn how to fight. It's not a great solution but it's... a solution? (Anakin would much prefer if she'd gone her canon route and started hanging out with Jacob instead. The only teen girl he wants to spend time with is his little sister. Why is this girl here? Anakin hopes she doesn't have a crush, he's definitely told her he's married in hopes of heading that off, which led to a very uncomfortable conversation with Obi-Wan.) At some point, Bella does start hanging out with Jacob, because their friendship means a lot to me, but also because Charlie's not exactly comfortable with Bella hanging out around that twitchy veteran who gets a far-off look in his eyes sometimes and is a few years older than Bella, just dashing enough that if she falls in love with a guy who moved in from out of town again, he's not sure she'll recover when he leaves. (Charlie's much less worried after Bella mentions, once, that Anakin's hoping to leave soon to get back to His Wife, whom he clearly loves a lot according to Bella, but Charlie's still much more comfortable with her hanging out at La Push.) - Ahsoka has some new friends, who are weird enough that she doesn't have to hide being weird too. Sure, she's a space alien with horns and fleshy tentacles and stripes, but they can shapeshift and are theoretically immortal, so who's counting?

Alice and Jasper show up a few weeks later, because 'being around Anakin' is actually not great for Bella's future being visible (because he's not actually 100% human, for Force baby reasons, so everything about him makes Bella's future fuzzy), and now they run into Ahsoka, and. That's not really great for anyone? Ahsoka isn't fast enough to run away from them without using the Force but she is tricky enough to trip them up and run off and trained enough to shrug of Jasper's emotional manipulations. She runs to the house and hides in her room after letting Obi-Wan know what happened. She's pretty sure these are the 'vampires' those shapeshifter guys told her about.

#Ahsoka Tano #Anakin Skywalker #Obi Wan Kenobi #Anidala #(mentioned) #twilight #star wars #the clone wars #crossovers #phoenix answers memes

[neonthewrite]

Missing Freedom

Today's prompt, "Melancholy", gave me an idea pretty much the moment I saw the prompt list. Glad to finally get around to it! The inspiration for this came from a Giant!Jacob AU created with the inestimable @borrowedtimeandspace - Be sure to check out their prompts for the month too!

TW for some themes of dehumanization.

~~~

Jacob wasn’t free, though no chains adorned his wrists. He was trapped all the same in the sturdy walls, reinforced with a few layers of metal. His cage had come a long way from the quick construction it had originally been, back when they lured him there with promises of protection and help with the impossible situation he’d found himself in. They added to it all the time, making it more and more efficient for its true purpose. While they worked on whittling away his resistance, they built up his prison at the same time.

And through it all, he’d never been able to seek answers to why he was like this in the first place. No one was all that interested in the why or the how. He was giant, and that was all that drew their interest.

What looked like a warehouse from the outside was really more of a holding cell for him when he wasn’t being marched around his training grounds. Concrete floors, fluorescent lights, and a broad open floor space made for an unwelcoming home on their own. Add to that the catwalks around the upper walls, putting his guards at eye level with him when he sat up, and the whole thing felt oppressive indeed. No one came near him without the usual body armor and gun, the silent, thinly veiled threats of what he’d face if he didn’t comply with orders.

They were soldiers. He was not. But they sure were doing their best to make him one.

No, not even a soldier. He was to be an attack dog, a beast to be broken. They’d even built an automated system to dispense food to him in a container in one corner, a chute that delivered a precisely calculated diet for maintaining his health. His basic needs were met in that building, but little more. Jacob wasn’t even supposed to speak to anyone unless directly addressed, so building a rapport with his guards was out of the question.

Jacob didn’t have any windows in his cell, aside from a few small ones low in the walls, all of them definitely sized for the normal sized folks and their coming and going. He didn’t dare get too close to those little windows, though, lest they decide they need to warn him off with a glancing gunshot. He couldn’t look outside in the idle times they kept him locked up.

It rained a lot in that remote countryside where they had him stashed away. Usually a light drizzle, it drummed a familiar pattern on the roof overhead all the same. He used to be neutral to the sound of rain, back in another life when he’d been normal. Now, he welcomed something to break up the monotony that wasn’t one of his drills or other training sessions.

When he could lie there on the concrete, staring at the ceiling and listening to the rain outside, he let his mind go blank. The melancholy emptiness was better than thinking too hard about the constant exercises they had him doing during the day. It was much better than thinking about the interrogations he’d participated in.

He wasn’t a war machine just yet. But with the right lighting and ambience, he could be put to use scaring someone into talking about all kinds of things, whether he wanted to or not. It started with denying him food; even if he did nothing at all, his stomach growling in the dark was enough for some of them to crack. 

Of course, he faced his own consequences if he didn’t at least try to play the part. No matter how much Jacob told them he wasn’t made for it, he couldn’t put on a convincing act to matter how they punished him for it, they kept tossing prisoners in the warehouse with him. From there, he was to figure out ways to prod them into talking. The impossibility of a giant helped him a surprising amount. To those prisoners, he might as well already be the dangerous monster his captors wanted to make of him.

He drummed his fingers where they rested idly on his abdomen. He hadn’t seen a prisoner for an “interrogation” in a few days. That meant he should probably expect another one sometime soon. They weren’t routine, but he’d learned to expect them.

He closed his eyes as the rain picked up outside. He could imagine it, soaking the dismal facilities that had built up around his prison in the months since he’d been captured. Beyond them, the hills and forests would be more vibrant green against the grey backdrop of the sky. It would be an amazing place to hide away from civilization while he figured out what had happened to him.

He imagined it again, one of his recurring daydreams. He wouldn’t be slowed down all that much by the walls, even reinforced as they were. They might scratch him a bit, might resist his strength for a moment or two. But he was a giant. It was hard to imagine something holding him back.

But they had weapons. They could easily find him. Hiding away was a lost cause at his size. And though he was tougher than he was at his normal size, he wasn’t invulnerable. They could and would hurt him if he left.

They couldn’t punish him for just imagining it though. Jacob imagined it a lot, because it was really all he could do. He had yet to become the mindless, dutiful soldier that they hoped for out of him, and he liked to think his daydreams played a large part in that. It would be hard for them to take that away from him.

No, Jacob was far from free. But even if they did eventually put chains on him to keep him in line, they couldn’t put chains on his little daydreams. He could imagine freedom as much as he wanted.

#gtjuly #gtjuly2023 #mywriting #jacob andris #giant!jacob #gt #g/t #giant tiny #tw dehumanization #captive giant

[waywardstation]

What’s In a Name

Akari is helping Ingo take care of Lady Sneasler’s kits while he gets over a cold, and decides all of the little sneasels need names.

After so long, I wrote a continuation to It’s Just a Cold !You don’t need to read that first to understand this fic, but it can help a lot with understanding some of the context. I wrote this after I wanted to flesh out the rest of Lady Sneasler’s kits with names of their own (which my audience helped name! Thank you everyone!), and just write something fluffy, no angst haha.

OR read it here on AO3!

Enjoy!

————

“When do you think they’ll be able to leave the nest?”

“I cannot say, but I believe they will be ready for that within a few weeks to a month, if they keep on the correct track of development.”

Akari trekked up the mountainside with Ingo, the early-morning sun cold and unable to penetrate the thin veil of mist. Akari made her way ahead of the warden, having traveled up to Lady Sneasler’s den so many times now, that he no longer had to guide her up every step of the way. Though, Ingo’s lethargic pace also contributed to him taking up the back; he was still getting over a cold, and trekking up a mountainside in a thinning atmosphere wasn’t the easiest thing for him at the moment. He coughed to dislodge a tickle in his diaphragm, and readjusted the thick scarf around his neck; Calaba had given it to him to keep the frigid air from irritating his lungs too much.

Ever since Lady Sneasler’s eggs had hatched, and she presented nine new adorable babies to the world, Ingo had been doing his best to help care for them. As a solitary species where it was uncommon for mates to stay together, Lady Sneasler needed someone to care for the kits and protect them while she was out hunting - a job that had naturally fallen onto her warden, Ingo.

But seeing as how Ingo was still recovering from the nasty cold that Akari was helping him through, the teenager had insisted she come up with him to the den, so she could assist him with managing the nine growing kits. He was doing much better now compared to a week ago, but he was still sluggish, and his voice remained a bit thick with the lingering (but waning) cough that sat in his chest. He never would have explicitly asked for help, so Akari had offered her assistance instead, knowing he probably needed it. The need was smaller a week later, but she enjoyed spending time with Ingo…and she’d be lying if she said the best part of her recent days weren’t seeing the adorable little sneaslets.

With the potato-sized kits now being over a week old, they could now open their eyes on their own and crawl around on their bellies. They were still sleeping a lot, but were beginning to grow more active, having started gently playing with each other in small, short bursts of energy. Their baby teeth were quickly coming in as well, and they were starting to nibble on solid foods, which meant Lady Sneasler could be out for longer periods hunting, and Ingo and Akari could tend to their feeding times while they watched over them. Yesterday was the first time they tried berries; it had been…messy, but they digested them well, and seemed to like the fruits for the most part. Today would simply be a repeat.

“Well, when they get big enough, I want to be there with them when they come outside for the first time!” Akari called back to Ingo as she took a right turn off the mountain path into a patch of thin underbrush; they were almost to the den.

“I’m sure they’d be glad to have you there.” Ingo added as he followed after her; having come up with him to the den every day since the late hatcher had emerged from her egg, the kits had grown just as fond of her presence as they had of his own. They were very attached to Akari.

Akari pulled herself out of the foliage and onto a rocky ledge, before moving back so Ingo could make his way up. He pulled himself up a bit slower than he usually did, the residual lethargy still sitting heavy in his aching muscles, but with some effort, he finally joined her on the cliffside.

“Hey, I didn’t have to help you up this time!” Akari turned to the cavern mouth behind them, but kept her gaze on Ingo with a big smile on her face. “See, you’re getting better every day!”

“You are correct, though I do wish the tracks to recovery were a little faster.” Ingo coughed around some of the gunk in his chest as he readjusted his cap, heading into the cavern with Akari. A few more days, and he’d say he’d finally be able to shake this itch in his lungs, and recover completely. Though, his recovery had been remarkably slow compared to Akari’s; she had indeed gotten sick due to contact with him (as he worried she would), but after just a few days, she was already running around again with just as much energy as ever, acting like she hadn’t even been sick in the first place.

He was aware of how stressors strained one’s immune system, and slowed its tracks considerably. Perhaps…

“My Lady? We’ve returned, albeit a little behind schedule; I hope that is not too inconvenient!” Ingo called out to his noble in the darkness. The cavern narrowed some as they moved further in, but this was meant to deter bigger predators from entering, and discovering the spacious den that opened up in the back.

Lady Sneasler’s chirp of greeting was heard from ahead, as well as a few muffled, but excited squeaks, piping up at realizing someone was arriving. That alone was enough for Akari; with her own sound of excitement, she left Ingo to hurry ahead and meet the kits.

“Careful,” Ingo warned her, wary of the uneven cavern floor in the dim cavity; being taller than her, he had to duck slightly under sections where the ceiling bowed, and suck in his chest to compact himself and shuffle sideways where the walls narrowed, whereas Akari could hurry right through. An inconvenience, but again a protective one.

Finally the walls opened up, and Ingo made it into the warm, safe cavity of Lady Sneasler’s nest. Akari was already kneeling in the many layers of nesting materials that covered and softened the hard earthen floor. She was busy petting the tiny bundles of fur that had crawled to her, mewling happily. Lady Sneasler was beside them, but standing upright as if waiting for something.

She was waiting to leave the den and go hunting, of course.

“Good Morning, Lady Sneasler,” Ingo greeted her with a nod of his head, squinting slightly to make her out in the darkness - his eyes would adjust soon enough, though. “I once again apologize for our late arrival. You may now leave to do your hunting; we will take good care of your young until you return.”

Lady Sneasler chuffed quietly. Ingo felt the sharp blades of her paw delicately pat him on the head - she could tell he still wasn’t feeling 100% but was doing his best - before they clicked subtly against the wall as she moved for the exit; the cavern darkened even more as she momentarily blocked the light in the narrow opening, but in an instant, she was gone.

“Well, we should get to feeding them,” Ingo immediately reached into his pockets, feeling for the berries that he had packed away for the kits. “We are behind schedule, so I imagine they are hungry.”

Akari didn’t hear him over her own laughter, now lying on her back in the nesting material as the nine tiny sneaslets assaulted her face with licks and kisses from tiny tongues.

————

“Ow! This one keeps biting my fingers.”

“Ah, have you fed that one yet?” Ingo looked up from the two tiny sneaslets nestled in his arms, snuggled closely against him as they chewed on soft bits of pecha berries. “They’re probably just hungry.”

“Yes! I already gave him an entire oran berry!” Akari pulled her hand away to inspect the fingers and see if the plump kit in her lap had broken the skin. Luckily they hadn’t, though it did leave a red mark in the skin. “I think he just likes biting. It’s all he’s done since his baby teeth came in!”

“Perhaps he is teething, and trying to relieve some of the pressure in his gums.” Ingo hypothesized. Their tiny, needle-like baby teeth were not their permanent set, but they might still be in the process of coming in, and that could be uncomfortable.

“Maybe,” Akari muttered in an entirely unconvinced tone as she readjusted the sneaslet in her lap to keep it from biting her again.

Reaching into the nesting material scattered around them, she searched for another sneaslet to pick up and feed next. She couldn’t help but smile when she found she had uncovered the runt of the litter, the late hatcher that Ingo had personally taken care of as an egg when he was sick. She was a little partial to this one, as she had been there with Ingo when she had hatched (And she was quite timid compared to her siblings; Akari always had a soft spot for the shy ones).

Gently grasping the tiny sneaslet in her hands, Akari placed them in her lap, next to her bitey sibling. The runt mewled quietly, her warm body leaning into Akari’s gentle hands as her sibling tried to nip her feathered ear; thankfully, Akari moved her hand to protect her from the sharp teeth.

“I’ve been thinking lately,” Akari started as she reached for the pile of gathered fruit between herself and Ingo, grabbing onto a sitrus berry. “I think this one should be named Powder.”

“Hmm?” Ingo reached for a third kit from the pile to start feeding them as well, with the previous two sated in his lap. He knew his head was still a little foggy from his cold, did he hear her say something about names-?

“Powder,” Akari reiterated to clear up any potential confusion. “Like powder snow! You know, because it was snowing outside the night she hatched, and she’s really soft and white!”

“Ah, no, apologies Miss Akari,” Ingo shook his head lethargically. “I understand it, but, names…I am unsure if the kits of a noble are really fit for names-“

This was the first litter of Lady Sneasler’s that Ingo had found himself caring for. He didn’t know the proper customs of it all yet, concerning such matters; were you allowed to give names to a noble’s young? Lady Sneasler herself certainly didn’t have a nickname, and neither did the other Lords and Ladies…(did Lady Sneasler already have her own version of names for her kits, though?) Ingo had never thought to ask the other wardens, or Lady Irida. Though, the thought of naming them didn’t immediately occur to him; he didn’t give nicknames to his own team of Pokémon. He understood Akari’s incentive, though - on the contrary, she loved nicknaming her own Pokémon, and would often share what she came up with when showing him a new creature that she had caught. But he’d have to ask Irida before he could allow Akari to name his noble’s kits. If that broke a rule he was unaware of, and the Pearl Clan discovered someone had taken it upon themselves to name his noble’s kits, and he let them…oh, Sinnoh forbid Calaba have another reason to disapprove of his position as warden-

“-Well of course they need names!” Akari retorted, misunderstanding the reason for Ingo’s hesitance. “It’s about time, it’s been over a week now since they’ve hatched! There’s nine of them here, how else are we going to keep track of them all? Otherwise, they’re all just ‘the kits’ or something!”

Ingo blamed his cold-induced brain fog for stalling his mouth long enough for her to keep going.

“And I say we name this one Powder!” She gently held the fluffy runt close as she tore off a small chunk of sitrus, and held it up to her soft mouth. The kit made a sweet sound as she sunk her tiny teeth into the fruit and sucked on the juice. “It’s a good name for her, don’t you think?”

The soft, downy kit snuggled against the teenager mewled timidly around the berry in her teeth, as if agreeing she liked the name.

“It is rather fitting, I admit,” Ingo sniffed, rubbing at his nose…still sort of runny. “But Miss Akari-“

“-Ow!”

Ingo paused at the disruptive exclamation, his train of thought derailed as he quickly glanced over. Akari noticed the concern.

“Sorry, he bit me again!”

Sure enough, when Ingo looked over, he observed that the plump sneaslet had gotten greedy and latched onto Akari’s hand, in an effort to snatch away the sitrus berry from Powd- from the runt.

“Perhaps consider giving him half of another berry if he’s still hungry.” Ingo advised, derailing from the previous topic to address the current issue. He was almost ready to ask if Akari wanted to hand the bitey sneaslet to him.

“There are better ways to let me know he wants more, like saying ‘please’.” Akari half-joked as she gently coaxed the kit’s mouth from off her hand, before proceeding to feed the runt the rest of the fruit chunk that had been unsuccessfully stolen. But she did grab another berry and divided it, giving chunks from one half to Powd- to the runt to see if she’d like more, and the other half to her bitey sibling.

The runt quietly nibbled on her pieces, while her sibling snatched his up quickly between his teeth.

“We have to name this one Chomp.” Akari promptly concluded, watching him eat.

That’s two names now.

Two kits were named, and you couldn’t take back names once they were given - it was practically impossible, and he could see Akari was already set on naming them all. How could he possibly tell her she couldn’t?

“Ahem,” Ingo peeled off a chunk of pecha to feed to the third sneaslet still waiting patiently in his lap; a little lady, judging by the stunted feather. “It is difficult to say this Miss Akari, but…though I am a warden, I am new to this, well…aspect, of my position. I am unfamiliar with the customs that entail naming a noble’s young and whether it is appropriate or not, and as such, I ask that you refrain from…”

Ingo’s already-tired voice weakened even further as he watched the lighthearted joy fade from Akari’s features, a sort of seriousness replacing it as she listened to him explain himself. Did she think she was in trouble? Oh this was hard, and he didn’t know for sure if this was an issue or not. Perhaps he was just being overly cautious again…

“…letting the Pearl Clan know that they’ve been given names, until I can officially consult Lady Irida on the matter.” The warden caved as he slumped back against the cavern wall, ending the sentence with a stifled cough as the kits in his lap readjusted themselves against him.

He was unsure if he really should have said something like that, but seeing the cheeriness return to Akari’s eyes at the statement was worth it for him.

“Oh, yes! Of course! I won’t say anything!” She smiled as she handed the last chunk of sitrus to the run- to Powder, who gratefully took the soft fruit and nibbled on it, content. Chomp was staring at her the entire time with a look of envy in his big eyes.

“So if this is Powder, and this is Chomp,” Akari’s gaze drifted over to the three kits Ingo currently had nestled in his lap. “Then what would their names be..?”

She first focused on the tiny sneaslet that Ingo was currently feeding. He was holding out a chunk of pecha to the tiny bundle of fur just like he did with the others, but she didn’t seem satisfied with that; Ingo kept having to move her back onto his lap, as she was repeatedly ignoring the small piece in favor of trying to crawl to the large berry he was taking chunks from. She wanted the whole thing at once!

“That one’s Pecha!” Akari pointed at the greedy sneaslet. “Because she seems to really like pecha berries!”

“Once again, a rather fitting name, I’d say.” Ingo agreed as he handed the last fruit chunk to Pecha. She scarfed it down rather quickly, before grasping onto his sleeve with her sharp claws, and chirping as if asking for more.

“And, um,” Akari moved her focus to the two other kits resting on Ingo’s lap; they had long since finished their meals, and were now sleeping warm against the warden’s free arm, held around them to keep them from falling out of his lap. A boy and a girl, again judging by the lengths of their feathered ears. The boy was as quiet as ever, curled into a tight ball, with the girl draped a little more loosely over him.

“Maybe, uh, Balm for the boy; he’s so calm! Every time I see him, he seems to be sleeping! And the girl…”

The little lady yawned, revealing her tiny, needle-like teeth for a moment, before rubbing at her face with her small purple claws, and scratching at her short purple feather.

Lavender flashed through her mind for a moment, comparing the purple in her pelt to the shade. But ‘Lavender’ was awfully close to ‘Laventon’, and that felt a little…weird.

“…maybe Lilac? She’s got a really pretty shade of purple.”

Ingo could see why Akari liked to nickname all of her Pokémon; she was very good at it, and picked very fitting names. Perhaps she was so good at it because she nicknamed so many Pokémon.

“And now,” Akari picked up another kit, snuggled under the insulating nesting material next to her. “A name for you!”

The fluffy kit instinctively snuggled up to Powder for warmth as Akari placed them together in her lap (and away from Chomp), which made the runt squeak quietly and squirm half-heartedly, latching back onto her warmth-seeking sibling.

“Hmm,” Akari pondered as she picked up an oran berry from the pile and began to peel it. She noticed the kit was a male, judging from its longer feathered ear, but what caught her eye was that the feather seemed to be bent; it appeared almost like the leaves of a few plants she had seen on the mountain before. Perhaps the feather would correct itself with age, but for now, it was a recognizable feature.

“I think Nettle fits for you!” Akari concluded as she gently nudged an oran slice towards the kit’s mouth. He sniffed it for a moment, before nibbling on the edge, trying to grip it with his tiny claws. “Your feather looks like one.”

Quiet, but incensed yowling from her side caught Akari’s attention, and she turned to see Ingo had picked up a fourth kit to feed, except they seemed upset.

“Not every passenger is satisfied with our selection today, it seems,” Ingo retracted his hand from the kit, which had been offering her a cheri berry. The picky sneaslet continued to make sounds of displeasure, even going so far as to half-heartedly swipe at his hand. “I believe this is the kit that was rather selective with what she wanted yesterday.”

Ah yes, the picky one. Akari remembered how yesterday, all of the kits happily gobbled up all of the berries they had brought, thoroughly enjoying the new treats for the first time. All of them, that was, except for her. She had stuck her nose up at just about everything that had been handed to her. Ingo had been worried he wouldn’t be able to get her to eat anything, until she had scrambled into his coat, having caught the scent of cake lure base in his pocket, and gobbling that up.

She had a “rather refined taste”, as Akari had put it.

“Hang on, I think I still have some of my muffin from this morning,” Akari used her free hand to fish through her satchel, in search of the breakfast leftovers she hadn’t finished. She had made them for herself and Ingo that morning, but seeing as all of the ingredients were simple and organic, it should be alright for the kit to eat.

“We shouldn’t make it a habit to feed her these things,” Ingo commented. “Lest she become spoiled and influence her siblings.”

“It’s fine, it’s fine; I bet she’ll grow out of it when she’s able to have meat.” Akari brushed it off.

She successfully retrieved the half-muffin from her bag, and held a piece out to the whining kit. The sneaslet stopped yowling at the sight of the treat and sniffed the air cautiously, before accepting the piece. One hesitant bite turned into many quick ones, and Akari handed her another chunk as soon as she finished it.

“I don’t think she realizes this is basically made up of what she was just crying over.” Akari snickered at Ingo; she had baked double the berries into the muffin, just the way herself and Ingo liked it, and the kit apparently had no problem with the berries like that.

“Perhaps she prefers to simply make a fuss and be tended to.” The warden guessed, moving a hand to keep the kit in his lap; she was now unsatisfied with the small chunks, and was trying to make a grab for the rest of the muffin in Akari’s hand. In truth, when he put it like that, this kit’s behavior reminded him of Lady Sneasler, in a way. She could also be quite huffy about certain things if she didn’t get her way.

“Ok, she’s gotta be named Duchess, then!” Akari handed her the last of her muffin, before sitting back and dusting the crumbs off of herself.

“Duchess? What brought you to that stop?”

“Because you’d think she’s royalty with how high her standards are! And, she kind of reminds me of Lady Sneasler with how picky she is…she needs a title name to match!”

It seemed he wasn’t the only one who saw the comparison between her and her mother then, Ingo thought.

“It’s a suitable name for her.” Ingo agreed as Akari reached for one of the last two kits still bundled in the nesting material.

“Another girl!” Akari commented as she held the chubby kit in her hands, petting her carefully on her little head as she gave a startled chirp - she had apparently fallen asleep in the soft nest. Akari placed her in her lap between Powder and Chomp, the latter of whom immediately started biting on her playfully. The kit didn’t seem to mind, thankfully too drowsy to care.

“Hmmm…” Akari pondered as she grabbed a cheri berry and started separating a chunk of the fruit flesh for her. What would she name this one..?

The kit chirped amongst her siblings, waking up as she was handed the cheri berry to chew on. She stuffed the sweet fruit chunk into her mouth, rather than nibbling off a little at a time like the rest of her siblings.

“What do you think of the name Mochi for this one?” Akari continued to gently pet the sneaslet as it worked on the cheri chunk.

“A good name, like the rest of them,” Ingo remarked, learning forward slightly to search for the last kit hidden in the nesting material. “What supplied the inspiration for that one?”

“You!” Akari grinned with the reveal, laughing a little. “She eats the same way you eat Beni’s mochi at The Wallflower!”

Ingo’s ears warmed up at the comparison as Akari laughed; surely, that was an exaggeration. But looking at the kit as she ate the berry, she…sort of did.

“Yes, well…” Ingo cleared his throat as he resumed searching for the last kit in the nest. “Still a fitting name, all the same.”

His hands finally found the kit he had been searching for, and carefully, Ingo lifted it out of the warm material; a boy, chirping as it gripped onto Ingo’s fingers for support. Lady Sneasler had had a rather balanced litter, he thought, with four boys and five girls.

“One left, Miss Akari. Do any names come to mind for this one?” Ingo asked as he placed the kit amongst the other siblings in his lap; they all grouped together, a warm bundle against his arm.

The teenager seemed to ponder the question momentarily, before she sat up straight with a great idea, poking him in the arm. “Wait, no! You should name this one!”

“Me?” Ingo’s first instinct was to discourage it. He was not the best with names; it’s entirely why he didn’t really subject nicknames to his pokemon.

“Yes, you! I’ve named all of them so far, you’ve got to name at least one of them!” Akari urged, continuing to nudge his arm. The jostling caused some of the kits in her lap, now drowsy with their full stomachs, to shift and mewl in protest. “Come on, Ingo!”

“Well,” Ingo’s frown pulled as he looked down at the unnamed kit in his lap. He wasn’t sure he would be any good with it; he’d probably take forever to think of one, compared to Akari. “...I suppose I can try.”

“Yes!” Akari cheered; Ingo was at least grateful to know she had more faith in him, than he did himself.

Now let’s see, a name…even with his mild, cold-induced brain fog, a few words definitely came to mind when he thought about it, looking at the kit.

Caboose, Shuttle, Ballast, Signal, Trolley…

They were the names (he) always suggested whenever (Emmet) urged (him) to help name some of his newly (hatched)(joltiks), whenever his (sweet)(galvantula) presented more (eggs).

(Ugh, the memory had holes, like the rest of them…)

They were the names always suggested whenever the other urged for help naming some of his new ones, whenever it presented more…

…but, Ingo didn’t know what any of those names actually were, like much of the other strange vocabulary that floated around in his brain, words without definitions. And no matter how hard he tried to remember what those terms actually were, he couldn’t quite recall. Ever since he had fallen sick, it had become even more difficult to recall things with his lagging brain.

Ingo reached back to rub at the spot on his scalp that began to ache dully. It saddened him in a way he didn’t fully understand, but maybe it’d be better to avoid terms like that.

His thoughts then drifted to the names that Akari had already picked out; perhaps he could come up with something that matched what she was doing. Several of the names had to do with food, and one was even based off of a plant. And another two were for the kits’ colorations, weren’t they?

“Do you believe the name ‘Taro’ is suitable for this one?” Ingo proposed after his short session of contemplation; he had been peeling a pecha berry all the while, and handed a chunk to Taro, who took it quickly.

“Taro?” Akari blinked at the warden. “Where did that come from?”

Ingo was partially thankful he hadn’t gone with one of his initial, mystery terms; he wouldn’t have been able to explain if she had asked that about one of them.

“Well, taro is an edible root, and the flesh inside it white, with purple speckling - Beni’s served the root a few times at The Wallflower. It just seemed rather similar to a sneasel’s coloration.”

Once Akari understood it, she smiled and gave him a thumbs up. “Oh, that’s a perfect name! I like it!”

Ingo returned her encouragement with one of his small, thin smiles; a part of him appreciated the affirmation that he had done well with picking a name. “Good to know it’s got your approval.”

Taro squeaked with satisfaction as it finished off the last berry, and much like the rest of his siblings, he retired to snuggling against Ingo and taking a nap.

“We’ve gotta show Zisu the kits when they get big enough to leave the nest,” Akari told Ingo as she leaned against his arm to rest along with the sneaslets; they only had about an hour or so to rest before they’d wake up and demand to be fed again. “She asked about them again this morning when I left to meet up with you, and wanted to know how you were doing with your cough and everything.”

Ingo recalled how a week back, he and Akari had gone to the training grounds to let Zisu know he had been gone for the last several days due to an illness, and to apologize for leaving her with no notice, but he would need more time off.

Akari had piped up and told the captain he needed maternity leave, which immediately sent Zisu into a fit of loud, continuous laughter. With a face as red as a pop pod, Ingo had to hastily explain that Akari was thinking of paternity leave, and even then, it was just him taking care of his noble’s newly-hatched kits, part of his duty as a warden. But it was too late; Zisu would never let that go, and Ingo’s flustered explanation had made it even funnier.

“Take as long as you need,” Zisu had told him as she wiped a tear from her eye, a big smile on her face. “But I’m hoping I can see these kits soon!”

“Perhaps this next week or so, I can bring a few of them down when I resume my schedule and return to my station at the dojo.” Ingo thought out loud, repositioning himself slightly to make it more comfortable for Akari to rest against him.

Sneasels were rather energetic creatures, and they grew fast, as all Pokémon did. He suspected that within a week or so, they’d be running around on their back legs and play-fighting, no longer the sleepy, generally-calm bundles of fur they were now. And they were wild too, and meant to stay that way; Ingo at least knew you were not allowed to catch a noble or their offspring. Irida and Calaba had made that very clear to him the moment they found out he liked to utilize the ‘barbaric and cruel’ pokeballs that Jubilife Village and its inhabitants had brought with them. He wasn’t sure he’d want nine wild, uncontrolled (and venomous) sneasels running around the village, when he was trying to do his job.

Perhaps he’d start with one or two, three if Akari wanted to help.

But a part of him was excited to show them to Zisu, names and all. While he was still wary about whether or not they could actually have names, he couldn’t deny names brought character and personality.

Sure, maybe Chomp would grow out of his biting habit. Perhaps Duchess could develop to be the most humble, agreeable one. Maybe Balm would become the most energetic, wired sibling, and Pecha could outgrow her apparent love for the sweet fruit. What was in a name anyways? But Akari was right, names helped set them apart as individuals, rather than just “Lady Sneasler’s kits”.

He looked forward to when they could all meet Zisu.

Ingo coughed again into his scarf. Perhaps bringing more kits at a time would feel manageable once he got over this lingering achiness as well.

But he’d worry about that next week. For now, he settled against the cavern wall and allowed himself to rest, with Akari against his shoulder, and the five sneaslets sleeping in his lap.

#submas #Ingo #warden Ingo #Akari #Pokemon Akari #lady sneasler #sneasler #hisuian sneasel #pokemon legends arceus #pokemon legends #Pokémon legends #Pokémon legends arceus #pokemon #pokemon fanfic #Pokemon Fanfiction #lady sneasler has kits #Ingo and Akari are babysitting #I really wanted to write something fluffy without angst #Ingo’s getting over a cold though but it’s not too bad #Ingo remembers Emmet’s love of breeding joltik #though only partially

[infinitethree]

Aster doesn’t flinch when he feels the familiar tingling at the back of his neck.

He’s not exactly thrilled they’ll have an audience for this, but…

Well. The Observers would find out, one way or another. There’s not much point in abandoning their plans– not when the gears are already in motion.

Fuck; he hates that he feels so much sympathy for Daz. The way his demeanor flipped back and forth between manic to dead as he told them he was going to ask to be trained as an admin was…

It was disturbing. Daz had decided to throw himself on this sword, face some of his darkest fears, because he was terrified of Lee ending up like him.

Every word and action– of which there weren’t a hell of a lot, granted– that Daz had said or done in regards to his original server, and of being capable of being an admin, indicated that he hated the idea of becoming what he had called a “true” admin.

The spark is useless if it’s not tapping into the server, Daz had said once, quite a while back. Worse than useless, sometimes. If I could trade it like Day did, nothing would make me happier. I’d rather die than use it, actually! I don’t ever want to become a full admin. I don’t want anyone to know I could become one. My spark, my capacity to be an admin…it’s been nothing but a curse.

Daz is good at lying. That’s just a fact– the bastard lies like the breathes and is both capable and willing to manipulate everyone around him into doing exactly what he wants.

But the vehemence and disgust he had shown over the idea of anyone outside their circle knowing about his ability to be an admin, about becoming a true admin…?

That was real. Aster knows it in his bones.

So the fact that Daz had that secret exposed, and furthermore, is now trying to be “taught” by Lucid and likely Day? That’s a big fucking deal. That’s a sacrifice of breathtaking proportions.

As is what they’re planning to do next.

Lee looks quizzically at the honey block in front of him. “...Is this the setup for a prank? Why can’t we take an elytra, or just walk to wherever you want me to go?”

They’re in the safe room in Aster’s house. Since they’re behind a veil of blackstone, whatever they do in here will remain a secret.

Aster’s mouth quirks upwards in a faint smile. “Not a prank. And because it’s important it’s hidden.”

He feels awful that they’re dragging Lee into this now, while he’s still so young. But…things are getting more dangerous. The Scribe has been increasingly active, to the point of threatening Daz. On top of that, the frequency and strangeness of the Observers’ interactions have spiked.

They need to do this now. Waiting any longer could make things even worse.

He ruffles Lee’s hair, making him laugh and stick his tongue out at him. “Alright, fine. I trust you.”

His sunshine smile makes Aster’s chest ache. He’s terrified that this will end in Lee hating him, resenting that he had such a massive secret for so long.

The idea of betraying the trust of the person he’s devoted his entire being to, who he has done so much to protect from any sort of hurt or harm…

But, as Daz had told them, delaying is too dangerous. The more Lee knows, the more Lee can protect himself.

If he’s aware of the true nature of their work, they might be looked at differently. Lee might resent or event hate them.

And if it ultimately keeps him safe, then that’s the burden they must bear.

Lee throws an ender pearl into the honey block. The sticky substance holds the thing in suspension, which lets Aster use one of the remotely-activated stasis chambers to go to where they need to go.

Aster swallows, picks up the block, and tells him, “I’ll see you in a second.”

He pushes the button on his com, and the familiar tug of being teleported takes control of him.

By now, though, he’s used to landing on his feet. He only hesitates a moment to place the honey block down and manually trigger it.

He catches Lee when he lands, knowing it can be tricky to get used to this style of stasis chamber. Lee usually just walks or flies, unless he really needs to get there quickly.

His charge looks at the area in surprise. “That’s a lot of stasis chambers,” he notes.

Aster winces, and goes to the ladder leading up. “C’mon, it’s– it’s better to see the rest of it. Explaining down here won’t help anyone.”

Entirely trusting, Lee climbs up right behind him.

At the top, the other four members of the Council stand in a loose semicircle. All of them look anxious, but none moreso than Daz.

Their eyes meet for just a moment, before Daz’s eyes flick over to Lee.

The bastard smiles softly, and holds out a hand. “Hey, kiddo. Welcome to the Council of the Star.”

#chronotag #long post #poisonousAchilles #shiningaster #the prologue!! #more to come. :)

[iwillpissyourpants]

A new life?

Part 5! My power keeps going out and has been keeping me from the internet, so this time the late update isnt actually on me😃👍 i still apologize. And plus this part is a bit lackluster because of my impatience, so as compensation, next part will be out within the next 24 hours.

If you haven't read part 1 click here, consecutive parts will be linked at the bottom of each part.

Contains: Angst, a lot of it, and it turns into comfort.

Overview: It'd been almost a year, and still no one had any clue where you had gone. Diluc still could not look for you, so a certain someone decides to take it into his own hands. Meanwhile in Liyue, an old friend returns to look for you as well...

Gn reader, "You/your" pronouns, no specified name. Aether is the chosen traveler, because yes.

Diluc Ragnvindr was usually predictable.

‎

The reclusive man was not one for idle chatting or exchanging pleasantries. He was a man of business, and whenever the rare occasion comes by where he does hold a conversation, it was exclusively about said business.

‎

Being the lead in the wine industry left daily life as tedious and uninteresting as anyone could possibly think.

His life was a simple one from the eyes of outsiders.

In the early morning, when the sun had yet to peek up over the endless ocean's distant horizon to the east, the well-known winery owner would have long since been awake and preparing for a day full of sales and paperwork, after which he would drop by the tavern he owned to take inventory and replace or restock whatever was needed, then he would go back to the winery to work at his desk and prepare for the next day. That was the cycle the citizens of Mondstadt saw the head of the Ragnvindr clan to have.

At least, that's what he led people to believe.

The Cavalry Captain honestly felt a bit sorry for the people who were so foolish to believe the façade that his dearest brother put on.

Oh, how much they didn't know...

Indeed, the life of the world's leading Wine Tycoon was a dull one, but Diluc was not just that.

He was so much more than just that.

If only the people knew...

Even excluding his vigilantism, there was so much that they did not know. Diluc was unpredictable and mysterious at best. Underestimating him and assuming him to be nothing more than the nobleman he presented himself as would be a grievous mistake for anyone to make.

Which is what led Kaeya to undoubtedly believe his brother was not as apathetic about your disappearance as he let on. Diluc may be able to fool all of Mondstadt's citizens, maybe even his enemies, but the scarlet-haired man could not possibly fool him.

No one knew Diluc better than Kaeya did. His nonchalance and blasé attitude was nothing more than a false front.

You had meant everything to him. Every day the two of you spent together were the happiest of his life. You had always been there for him, staying up well into the night, waiting for him to return home to you. Even long before your friendship grew to love you were always there when he needed company after long days of fulfilling his duties as a knight, and you were there for him as he grieved his father's passing. You had waited for him when he himself had disappeared, having left his vision behind and going on his path for vengeance against the people that had caused Crepus Ragnvindr's death.

‎

You were his Sun. The light he always looked for when glooming storm clouds darkened the sky.

You were his Moon, when the absence of daylight turned the world bleak and cold, your presence lighting his way.

You were his Star, guiding him home, to where you waited for him with open arms.

‎

And now you were gone...

‎

How could he possibly pretend his world hadn't frozen over with the loss of the sun?

How could he pretend he wasn't lost, plunged into a darkness he couldn't escape.

It seemed that pretending would be an impossible task.

Yet there he was, wandering hopelessly in the dark, hiding the frost with thickly veiled lies.

‎

Lies that his brother easily saw through.

‎

But ultimately he understood why his fiery counterpart hid under those lies. After all, he had done so himself, having hid his past from his found family for so many years... Kaeya knew from experience how these delicately woven lies needed to be kept from unraveling lest destruction come upon those he had come to love.

So it was his duty as Diluc's brother to aid him from the shadows and try to find as much information as he could on where you might have gone.

Even though the redhead had banished him from his life and has forsaken him as a brother, Kaeya swore that he would help Diluc. Even if he was not welcome in his life and would never again be...

He had sworn to his adoptive father that he would protect his family at all costs. He was not going to stand idly by and watch the anxiety of not knowing if you were even alive and not being able to even try to look for you eat away at his brother.

Diluc may not be able to look for you, but Kaeya could. He will search for you for his brother's sake and for yours, not as a knight, but as family. If not for Diluc's sake, for yours. You were his family just as much as Diluc was.

‎‎

And just so, months he spent looking for you, looking for anything that could at least confirm that you were alright. Alive...

He used every resource at his disposal and pulled in many favors, doing everything he could and pulling every string in his web of connections to track you down only to find, to his great annoyance and frustration, dead ends. He had gone so far as to send his black market scouts in to infiltrate several bandit groups, thinking of every possible place you could have gone.

You truly seemed to have disappeared into thin air.

The most he could find was that you had rented a room at an inn near Springvale at the edge of Dragonspine's icy landscape a few days after you left the City of Wind. The poor innkeeper had thought nothing of it, mindlessly assuming you were only planning on going out to the countryside, wanting to get away from the ever bustling city, as most travelers did. Upon hearing that you had disappeared entirely, they had tried their best to remember, which way had you gone after you left early the morning after? Which road did you take?

But try as they might, they could not recall such a specific detail from almost a whole year prior. Only that another traveler had recently come by asking about you, only to have received the same answers.

‎‎

This was bad. This was the only lead Kaeya had managed to dig up, only to have it yet again be a dead trail.

‎‎

For a while Kaeya was fearful. Had you gone into the icy mountain range?

If you had, you would not survive a single day.

Even the most experienced travelers had met a grisly end at the hands of the treacherous landscape and sub-zero temperatures, and you were no adventurer. You didn't even have a vision and had no training in weaponry. You had no way to protect yourself in a place so dangerous...

And after traversing through the snowy landscape himself, the blue haired knight had came to the conclusion that even if you had entered Dragonspine, it would be impossible to find traces of you after so much time.

Even if you had fallen to the frost or to one of the many monstrous creatures that roamed the tundra, your body would not be able to be recovered, likely being hidden under many months' worth of snow and ice...

‎‎‎

But Kaeya would not accept that ending. He would not give up believing that you willingly entered a region so dangerous, with near to no guarantee you would survive.

'You were smarter than that,' he thought to himself.

You had to have gone farther than Dragonspine...

‎‎‎‎

Could you have gone to the neighboring nation? If you had, how has his informants not heard of you?

‎‎‎

Surely you couldn't be so close by...

Right? They would have heard of you...

‎‎‎‎

Even Diluc would have heard through the grapevine about you if that were the case, what with so many merchants and travelers coming and going between the two nations and lounging in the taverns in the city, drunkenly discussing their newest findings and news carried from across the borders.

‎‎‎‎

Even the Traveler himself had been through Liyue recently. If you were there, wouldn't he have heard from you? Or maybe even seen you passing by through the streets? You and the Traveler were friends. Surely he would recognize you.

Though, even if he did, he would have told your family where you were. That you were safe. Alive...

‎‎‎

Surely he would...

Wouldn't he...?

‎‎‎‎‎‎

"Aether please."

The golden haired boy stared at you incredulously. He just could not understand. Why were you hiding in Liyue? Did you not know how worried your family was? They didn't even know whether you were alive or not.

He tugged on his arm that was held in your vice-like grip keeping him from racing to the nearest waypoint as he was intending. He needed to tell your family! Your poor mother had been inconsolable for months now!

Aether had not had the time to walk around Liyue Harbor for quite a while, having only recently returned from the Nation of Eternity. He'd been left to deal with the aftermath of the chaos he left behind for a while and had finally gotten some time to relax.

He had gone to Mondstadt first, excited to see you again, to share his stories with you as he usually did, only to find out you were missing? And hearing talk about a divorce?

What in Teyvat had happened while he was gone?!

And oh, Paimon was infuriated on having missed out on so much drama.

‎‎‎‎‎

After telling your distraught family that unfortunately, no, he had no clue as to where you could have gone, he himself set off to look for you. He couldn't believe that yet again he was left looking for someone he cared so much for.

Aether was exhausted, and had gone to the Harbor as a last ditch effort to ask a certain someone that always knew everything that happened within Liyue's borders, needing to know whether you even passed through the nation at all, only to find you casually sitting at a restaurant table?! As though everything was fine?

‎‎‎‎

"Have you lost your mind?"

The words that left his mouth ended up being more bitter than he intended. He just could not understand.

"Aether wait, I-"

"No," he hissed, realizing that he needed to keep his voice lowered. People would start to stare, being inexplicably drawn toward even the slightest bit of drama. Taking a deep breath to calm himself, even slightly, he continued, "Do you not realize how many people are looking for you? Your family, your friends-"

"Those people, Aether-" you interrupted with a strained whisper, "was exactly what made me leave."

Your voice was lowered, trying to avoid having the people sitting near you overhear. But your golden haired friend was not having any of it.

"You cant be serious-"

"Aether, I couldn't take it anymore... I had to leave," your grip on his pale wrist tightened as you felt tears well up and obscure your eyesight.

‎‎‎‎‎

Your and Aether's conversation had drawn some attention now, you could feel the curiosity radiating from the few people around you. You needed to explain to Aether why you left and why you couldn't have anything from your past follow you now. You couldn't let Aether leave and have your life you've built for yourself crumble, not now. You've worked too hard.

"Please can I talk to you and Paimon about this somewhere quieter? In private?" ‎

So much for keeping things secret...

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#a new life #genshin x reader #diluc #diluc angst #diluc x reader #genshin #genshin impact #genshin impact angst #zhongli #aether #genshin impact x reader #genshin x gn reader #genshin gn reader #genshin zhongli #genshin diluc #kaeya #taglist of pain