#event submission

[starlightlacrimosazpsff]

◇ 𝓐𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓛𝓲𝓽𝓽𝓵𝓮 𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼 ◇

TO: @hollythius-rising EVENT HOSTED BY: @solarisfortuneia

SYNOPSIS:

The most renowned love stories tend to be about either whirlwind romances or heartfelt tragedies. A love brewed by fighting against all odds provides a sense of fulfillment after all the drama, the angst, the conflicts, and the memories. It is a buildup to the climax wherein the readers live vicariously, to see the leads achieve happiness after a lifetime of misery. However, in reality, many pairs of soulmates find peace in the simplistic beauty that life can offer. They fight when absolutely necessary to maintain the harmony that safeguards the fragile glass known as happiness. Amidst the trivialities, the foundations of felicity can be forged little by little; and what once served as mere frivolity becomes the profound bond of unconditional loyalty—the foundation of all true loves.

ENTRY TYPE: Event Submission, F!Reader

WARNING(S): mentions of abuse, mentions of violence, mentions of problematic themes, implications of neurodivergence, blood, unstable mental state, juxtaposed writing style, ambiguous relationships, slight toxicity, mild angst (because I need to sprinkle some even if my focus is fluff), author is sorry for submitting late, etc...

CHARACTER(S):

Diluc Ragnvindr, Alhaitham, Childe/Tartaglia/Ajax

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•☆••☆••☆•

DILUC RAGNVINDR is a man of intrigue filled with mysteries hidden in the darkest shadows of the night. In a way, he is someone who breathes in contradictions as much as he lives in resolute convictions. He approaches life with a headstrong mind and steadfast heart, yet his soul tends to navigate a treacherous world by means of putting on masks infused with his spirit to distribute justice. The body born with the red hair of dawn and the crimson eyes of dusk takes flight as the firebird across the twilight. He honors the name of Noctua, which had blessed him at the tender age of 10. Despite his straightforward nature, his true persona is as elusive as any respectable gentleman with skeletons locked in his closet—or buried in Dawn Winery, for this case.

However, as expected of any formidable vigilante, there is one trustworthy confidante behind them. They are the precious secret keeper, the one to uphold the contingencies that shall be in play if the vigilante falls amidst disaster. In some cases, they stand as the one person who will remember the masked heroes for all their entirety and become their proof of existence.

For Diluc, that is you.

He had just become the Cavalry Captain of Ordo Favonius when he met you. The sight of you, a girl no older than him, battered and covered in blood was bone-chilling. He swiftly commanded the Knights of Favonius to escort you safely to Mondstadt, and led the caravan while ensuring your comfort. A peaceful smile was on your delicate lips even as tears poured down your cheeks. He asked for the reason behind your contradicting expression, bewildered and alarmed as he floundered on how to help you.

"Barbatos heard my prayers." You told him, "I am free now."

Diluc figured that is when his infatuation started with you. The years that had passed as you settled down into the city, the years that had passed after his departure from Mondstadt due to the death of his father, and the years that had passed when he returned...

None of it made a difference to what he feels for you.

If anything, the flames grew stronger and more adamant to have you.

As always, Diluc's nights conclude with a visit to your abode. After his nightly patrols, you are always the solace that awaits him. Whenever he tried to stop his visits, you will go to Dawn Winery yourself to ensure he took care of himself. He never wants you to ever risk yourself by travelling in the dark just to check on him, so he found it easier to just visit you after his patrols.

Sorry to have kept you waiting. Diluc seems to say whenever he finds you asleep on your couch, waiting for him all night. He would carry you in his arms, tucking you back to your bed. As he turns to leave, your hand would tug on his sleeve. His crimson eyes would see you awake, just barely to give him a pleading gaze and a dazzling smile. A part of him wondered if you dreamed of him all those years he had been away, utterly consumed by scathing grief. It made him ponder for how much longer he will keep you waiting.

I am fine, just stay with me. You seem to reply as you watch him discard his coat to join you. The line between friends and lovers blur for those nights of synchronicity. He would hold you until dawn, wherein the morning light would take him back to Dawn Winery. You wake up to an empty bed, yet the warmth soothes you despite his absence. You never complained nor expected more than what he could provide. You never tried to put a label to what you have. The important point is that Diluc always came to you, and that was all that ever mattered.

Please never let me go. Diluc was used to fighting his battles alone, yet he could never resist the allure of returning to you the first night you patched him up after a rough confrontation against a hoard of enemies. It yielded further moments wherein you would either prepare him a warm bath, or just patch him up with a few words of admonishment to be more careful next time. Every touch made him adore you, and every word made him admire you.

I am always with you. That was all you could truly offer to ease his suffering. You knew that your dear knight of dawn is broken, and pieces of him have permanently gone missing. He cannot be fixed and you do not seek to do it. You merely hold him, as his body was covered in gauze with his head on your shoulders. You do not speak of the tears you do not see as it soaked your dress, nor do you speak of the nightmares he confided to you past gritted teeth. I love you. Who will say it first?

"Honestly," you sighed, "your injuries tonight make me think you're doing it on purpose at this point."

Diluc almost smirked, "I suppose the notion is not too far off."

You plastered the adhesive bandage a little too harshly onto his chest, making him wince. He caressed the abused skin before putting on the spare shirt you gave him while you took hold of his cloak. You retrieved your sewing kit to repair the slight tear on the fabric.

"Don't even joke about that!" You scowled sternly, "What are you, a child? If you wish to see me, you ask for an invitation. Better yet, try to start a conversation. It feels as if you can only talk to me as the Darknight Hero and never as Diluc Ragnvindr."

He frowned confusedly, "What do you mean? If anyone knows all sides of me, it's you."

You raised a brow at him in challenge, "Oh yeah? Then why do you avoid crossing my path during daytime? Why do you only dare approach me during nighttime, away from any prying eyes?"

His lips part to deny your allegations but promptly close it when you point your needle at him. There was a stern glint in your eyes, the familiar fire that rivalled his own Pyro Vision. It makes him look away guiltily, fiddling with his ponytail as he released his hair from the tie. Seeing that he was not arguing anymore, you went back to your task as you continued to speak.

"I'm not one of those girls vying for your attention or anything," you said calmly, "but I won't deny that it grates on my nerves as I see you changing directions whenever you spot me en route. Then you come to my home as if it was like any other night."

You cut the thread as you finished stitching, glancing back at Diluc.

"Are you ashamed of me or something?" You asked bluntly.

"No!" He protested vehemently, "It's the total opposite."

A slight blush engulfed his face at the unwitting confession, but he does not correct himself nor take it back. You stared with wide eyes of awe and surprise, taken aback yet mostly amused. Rather than delving into it, you decided to keep silent as your eyes evaluated Diluc under a new light. You chuckled goodheartedly as you stood up, gesturing for him to do the same. Once he did, you help him put his coat back on and may have lingered to touch his arms. You were utterly shameless, grinning as he did not even tense up. It shows his familiarity with your caresses, even as you blatantly traced his shoulders to dust off some unseen lint.

"You owe me a date tomorrow then, Master Diluc~!" You whispered onto his ear.

Your cheeky remark ends with a chaste peck on his cheek, making the man look at you with a flustered astonishment. You giggle at his adorable expression, turning away to clean up the clutter in your living room. There was a sensual sway to your hips as you walked away, a soothing hum reverberating from your lips. This sight of you, bathed under the moonlight, felt so domestic and surreal to Diluc. Once again, he finds himself pining for a dream that could be just a step away from reality. He only needs to muster the courage to take that step, and you could be his for as long as you would have him in return.

Diluc yearns for you. He yearns for a future with you.

At the same time, he wonders if he could protect you beyond the clandestine moments shared with you. As he grabs your hand and twirls you into his arms, he found his answer by brushing his lips against yours with an intense look on his eyes.

"You missed." He retorts.

That was your first kiss with Diluc Ragnvindr.

"The wind wisps guided us, but the flame sprites united us."

•☆••☆••☆•

ALHAITHAM is a man of logic and rationality defined by the reasonable standards of routine. As an advocate of truth and wisdom, he has a thirst for knowledge controlled only by the disciplinary restraint of abstinence. This balanced mindset has earned him the title of Scribe within Sumeru's Akademiya, a well-maintained equilibrium between ambition and humility. Alas, this chosen lifestyle is not without its drawbacks to accompany the merits. Though this silver-haired scholar would argue that these cons are not truly detrimental, his peers would beg to differ when they tend to suffer said disadvantages more often than not. After all, the most brilliant geniuses tend to have quirks; and for this scholar hailing from the Darshan of Haravatat, it is his grievously cold-hearted personality.

His harsh disposition, more often than not, can be attributed to his analytical behavior. While he is not unsympathetic, Alhaitham is the type to prioritize facts over sentimental attachments. Because of this, most of his peers find it hard to get along with him.

That was, of course, until he was paired with you.

You had been desperate to find a decent roommate in the dormitories of the Akademiya, while Alhaitham wants a roommate whom would just learn to respect his supposedly strict boundaries. You heard from a friend about it and sought his contacts on the message board. You passed his initial assessment of you, and everything else was history.

Alhaitham was extremely meticulous of his space because he wants to be efficient with his time. That means every single thing in his home needs to be set in its place so a routine would remain undisturbed. If something goes wrong, it irritates him and it puts his mental facilities to work for something he deems could have been avoided. Despite his effective work ethics, he can be quite lazy in that regard. He does not wish to waste time and effort for someone else's incompetence, which people tend to find off-putting. However, you see it differently. He has his preferences, and it just so happens to be more thorough than most—which you respect.

For a while, you took the time to observe Alhaitham closely. It befuddled and agitated him at first, since there are times your glare could be quite piercing. If you had a problem with him, you should just say it. There are even moments when he thought you were stalking him. Alas, it was actually because you were taking note of his boundaries and his miniscule habits to adapt to them without compromising your own comfort.

Once the first week had passed, Alhaitham noticed your efforts blossom.

To his pleasant surprise, it even benefited him.

"[Name]," he called indifferently, "have you seen—"

"—your book on ancient runes?" You finished, "You left it on the couch when you got the emergency summons from your thesis professor. It was inspection day and I didn't want it to get confiscated, so I put it on the third shelf on the right with a disguised journal cover."

His sharp eyes looked at your precise directions. Lo and behold, there was his book—untouched and even bookmarked on the last page he left. It was a rather neat bookmark too, laminated autumn leaves and ferns with the Sumerian letters that spell your name on the paper base.

"You want one?" You asked, "I could make a custom design for you. I saw your old bookmark when I was cleaning the trash, and it will help keep your pages neat by not having to fold them."

Alhaitham stares at you with a calculative detachment, yet you did not miss the flicker of warm gratitude that you knew surprised even himself. He nods wordlessly while politely handing your bookmark back.

After you both graduated, it took little time for him to achieve the job of Scribe. Meanwhile, you ended up getting a job in Zubayr Theater to pursue the arts as a playwright. Much to Alhaitham's surprise, it had been your plan all along. Your time spent learning in Haravatat was to provide a deeper nuance to your stories by making use of ancient languages and inputting traditional designs onto your craftsmanship. It was an amalgamation of wisdom that you proclaim the sages have neglected, an artform they prohibit due to ignorance. As he read one of your plays on a whim, he begins to see you in an appraising light. In fact, the appreciative delight he felt in your texts was demonstrated by how he never misses a single play written by you when it is performed on stage.

You could not pinpoint when things began to transition from platonic kinship to romantic entanglement between you two. All you can recall is that Alhaitham invited you to live with him again.

"Don't you already have a roommate? Kaveh, was it?" You asked curiously.

Alhaitham scoffs, "He tends to get on my nerves a bit. Having you there would teach him a thing or two about respecting my space, and minding his own business."

You snorted amusedly but accepted his offer. You knew better than to question Alhaitham. Although you wanted to joke about whether he still has room in his house, you knew it will fly over his head. It would only be a leeway to roast you about how he would not have offered if he did not have a room unoccupied to accommodate you.

Henceforth, that is how you got your own key to Alhaitham's house.

It must have been quite a shock to witness for Kaveh, how you and Alhaitham seamlessly move around each other. You always rise an hour before Alhaitham's scheduled awakening in the morning. You bathe and keep the bathroom clean, with enough hot water for him to use. Then, you cook breakfast and brew his coffee with a specific mug he uses in the morning to keep track of his caffeine intake. Straight black and no sugar, but you will add two teaspoons of cream to ensure it does not scratch his throat. By the time he gets dressed, you have his meal set on the table right where his seat has a good view on the window. It was not the landscape itself but the sunlight that hits just right for him to read any book he currently fancies while he sat to eat.

Alhaitham will always clean his own dishes, which will leave you to double-check your things before you both leave for your respective jobs together. Kaveh gapes when he actually sees the silver-haired man help carry your things while you put on your shoes.

"Kaveh," Alhaitham said nonchalantly, "we're both going to be home late. Don't wait up."

You smiled warmly, "There's still food left for you if you get hungry. Oh, and—"

With no hint of shame, your hands patted Alhaitham down. Your calloused fingers rummage his pockets and retrieve his keys, separating the ones that belonged to Kaveh which got dragged with his own. The most astonishing is how the man remains unfazed by your casual yet intimate touches, even leaning into it.

"—here are your keys again!" You laughed as you threw them at the blond, "Honestly, I should get us some kind of key hangers to prevent this from happening."

"Do you want to go now?" Alhaitham asked smoothly, "I have some time."

"I don't have the money for it yet!"

"Don't be ridiculous. Of course, I'm paying."

Kaveh could only stare incredulously as he held his keys. He watches you both depart, voices fading behind the door and into the distance.

Meanwhile, Alhaitham all too chivalrously takes your hand in his as you both strolled down the streets. You hummed a familiar tune that you have been working to integrate on your next play. He takes note of it, subtly turning a vial in his headphones to record your voice. You did not stop him, eyes wandering to window shop.

"How was your latest research?" You asked.

"Troublesome," Alhaitham sighs lightly, "the scholars involved in it give me a headache."

You cooed, raising your free hand to sweep his bangs and massage his temple mildly. You stopped to focus back on walking but now allowed your fingers to stroke the callouses on the hand you held. Soon, he drops you off at Zubayr Theater and releases you from his grasp. You held back a smile, cheeks blushing, when he kisses the back of your hand before tracing your palm with his fingertips as he lets you go. For a moment, his intense gaze shimmered in a darker turquoise and vibrant rustic orange—reminding you of both the rainforests and deserts of Sumeru.

"I'll stop by in the library with tea and snacks for you." You mention.

Alhaitham gives you a fond smile, a privilege only ever meant for you.

"I would appreciate that." He replied.

"Be the oasis to my desert, the prized flower in my secret garden."

•☆••☆••☆•

CHILDE is a man that goes by many names, each with a role to play like a performer on a stage. Amongst all these aliases, one of them comes with a literal mask belonging to a Fatui Harbinger—Tartaglia, the Eleventh. He is the youngest to ever rise to such a status, and it was with good reason. With the exception of the higher-ranked Harbingers, his skills in the battlefield are practically unparalleled. Frankly, the only thing sharper than his twin hydro blades is his ambition for more power and worthy opponents. That is likely why he fit right into the standards of the Fatui, enough to please even the cold-hearted Tsaritsa whom is implied to have a soft spot for her Harbingers despite her loveless soul. As the person that grew up with him, you felt proud of him yet also concerned over him.

After all, regardless of everything, he remains as Ajax to you.

In a matter of three days, that Ajax lost the light in his eyes but you carried that light in your heart. It seems that was enough to you, and that was also reason enough for him to still come home to you.

"What gave you strength to return?" You asked delicately, "Three months in the Abyss only to realize Teyvat only missed you for three days, it must have been a tumultuous affair. What enabled you to gain power to rise above it?"

Childe looks at you with a wistful smile, eyes remaining dull. However, the touch of his gloved hand in yours displayed an everlasting bond while the other held the fishing pole.

"My family," he replied, "and you..."

You smiled fondly, sagging in relief. Ajax still lives even if his light has dimmed.

The times he returned from missions—covered in blood that you knew were a mix of his own, and that of another poor soul that has ceased to exist—were all vivid in your memories. The first few nights, your hands trembled; yet you showed no fear in your eyes as you gazed into those lifeless blues. He was still Ajax, whom just grew up for the thrill of battles and an ambition for chaos. When he smiles at his siblings, you feel his genuine love envelop the room and that is how you knew the existence of Tartaglia can never truly overcome Ajax. The light of a flame may extinguish, but the warmth of its existence shall leave ashes and soot—until the day it ignites again.

Wrapped in bandages, Childe pulls you into his arms and lies down on your bed. You let him do as he pleased, aware that once the high from the bloodbath is over for the Tsaritsa's Tartaglia...all that would be left is the turmoil of your Ajax.

"If you are bloodstained," you swore, "then I will wash you all clean."

His embrace tightens, cradling the back of your head to ensure you will not look at him. You close your eyes and sigh, pressing your ear against his chest. The thumping of his heart races slightly as the heat of your skin passes to his own, soothing the scars and invigorating his veins.

"That would make you an accomplice." He said huskily, "I don't want to taint you."

You laughed blithely, wriggling from his grip to lift your head and boop his nose.

"Silly, Ajax~!" You crooned adoringly, "Even the purest snow needs to get dirty to melt into spring; and even the clearest waters hold their secrets beyond what the eyes can see."

Your eyes gained a ruthless gleam that made Childe's breath hitch. Your fingertips traced his torso, dabbling on the line between his skin and the gauzes. Your hand wraps around his throat, not tight to suffocate but enough to make him feel the weight of its existence. It was not calloused from a lifetime of battles, but from years of labor within Snezhnaya's endless winter. Nevertheless, it felt soft and delicate compared to his own.

"Should the day ever come," you promised solemnly, "that Tartaglia devours Ajax within you, I would kill you myself."

Childe's eyes widened. For a second, the lost spark in his eyes flickered.

"Tainting me or not," you smirked meaningfully, "it was never a choice for you to make, Ajax."

In a matter of circumstance, you joined the Fatui with a determined glint in your eyes and a menacing sharpness in your serene smile. You were not empty or unfeeling, for you still shone with an unforgiving light that dismantled even the Harbingers to their core. You did not hold the same prowess as Childe did when he started as a recruit, but your potential was overflowing when it came to everything else. It took a matter of months before the Harbingers, excluding perhaps the Jester and Capitano whom had been silent, began fighting in a passive-aggressive manner in an attempt to have you as their subordinate. The Tsaritsa had been indifferent, though she did seem to smile when you met her eyes fearlessly after your paths briefly crossed in the Zapolyarny Palace.

The other Harbingers must have taken quite a hit to their pride when you chose to bend one knee—bowing only in front of the Eleventh, right where they can see you.

"This humble soldier swears allegiance to Tartaglia, Eleventh of the Fatui Harbingers."

Childe gave a knowing smile, eyes flashing in appreciative endearment as he beholds your glorious form. He glances at his fellow Harbingers with a triumphant glare, brimming with possessive arrogance to which they all scowled. There was a palpable tension, a hint of envy to know that the lowest rank amongst them can encourage such devout loyalty. It was obvious there was something else to your relationship, but nobody could alas prove it.

"Rise, [Name]." He projects strongly, "This Harbinger acknowledges your oath."

Although you have joined his crusade in the Fatui, it did not mean you had to leave the place you have made for yourself in his family as his childhood friend. Since Childe made it clear he wishes to keep his real job a secret from the little ones, you also played your part in the secrecy. As far as his younger siblings are concerned, you are now an employee in Childe's toymaking company. In fact, you are the main designer of the toys. It is not too far from the truth since you end up being the one providing the toys to keep covering for Childe's lie. He knows engineering is one of your many talents, a reason why even Dottore and Sandrone had been very interested to have you as an assistant.

"[Name]," Teucer said when you joined their family for dinner, "when are you going to marry our brother?"

Childe ended up choking on his water, spilling it all over the table—much to his mother's chagrin. His father amusedly watches him struggle to regain his breath, patting his back in mocking consolation. You remain unfazed as you smiled at Teucer, whom sat on your other side. You chuckled as you grabbed the napkin, wiping away the crumbs and sauce on his youthful face. As Childe coughed into his elbow, he could not help but admire that maternal glow around you.

"When your brother asks, I suppose." You answered seriously.

Tonia squeals in delight while Anthon whistles, and Teucer celebrates by clapping his hands. All three glared at Childe expectantly while he stared at you, mouth agape and cheeks flushing in a rare image of flustered astonishment. His eyes seem to shake in unfathomable emotions, gulping dryly when you met his gaze with a challenging smile.

"It's getting late." His mother saves the day, "Ajax should escort [Name] back home."

His father smirked before Childe could agree, "Or [Name] could just stay the night like she always did when she and Ajax were younger. It's been a while since she has visited. It would be a shame for her to leave so soon."

Tonia nodded sagely, "I agree. Besides, maybe our dumb brother could finally pop the question if he gets used to sharing a room with his future wife again."

Just like that, the almighty Eleventh Harbinger got bullied by his own family.

In the solitude of his bedroom, you and Childe got dressed for bed with your backs turned to each other. Once done, you boldly embrace him from behind as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. You lean your head against his while he sat hunched over the bedside, elbows on his knees. He sighs with an exasperated smile, tilting his head to look back at you.

"You have got to stop teasing me like that." He said.

You grinned smugly, kissing him passionately on the lips.

Friend, comrade, lover—the label matters not.

The absolute truth is that you are bound to be together until your hearts stopped beating.

"Beyond the gods I defy, my end shall come in your hands."

•☆••☆••☆•

#— summer santa. #genshin impact #𝗜 αnσdчnє sαвαísm 𝗜 #genshin imagines #genshin scenarios #diluc x you #diluc x reader #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham x you #childe x reader #childe x you #event submission #f!reader #sfw #this was very late i'm so sorry #i admittedly procrastinated while also getting swarmed by work and the stress of moving houses #hopefully this was worth the wait #diluc ragnvindr #alhaitham #childe #tartaglia #genshin tartaglia

[pkmnirlevents]

December 21st, 2023 - Diya no Yaru (Holiday)

Ichowan holiday for the shortest day of the year. They believe that if you go outside on this day, you will become a ghost. Observed by staying inside all day, ESPECIALLY at night, and praying that you will not be taken in your sleep. Offerings of raw meat may be left outside the front and/or back door.

Sinnohans are most likely to observe this holiday, as it is their heritage. Tag posts with "diya no yaru" to be seen! @ichowan may reblog posts - you can ask them in character things or subwayjoltik ooc

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#holiday #event submission #DECEMBERNS23 #Ichowan #Sinnoh

[fortheloveofdeaddove]

Gathering Fiki Trick or Treat 2023 10/22 prompt submission

Trick prompt for 22/10: The God of Harvest receives whatever sacrifice God of Harvest desires. 

Content Warning: Durincest,sibling incest, Smut, Dub Con (but not really, just situationally not ideal), ritual sex, harvest rituals (but the sexy kind), evil entities, At-Least-He's-Pretty levels of intelligence from Thorin

Author's note: Not edited or beta'd. Sorry for any mistakes. Thanks @gatheringfiki and @linane-art for organizing this!

Read under the cut or check it out on Ao3!

What The God of Harvest Wants

Dwalin didn’t like the idea of bringing the lads along this time. If Thorin was so hellbent on taking back their kingdom one day, he didn’t see the necessity of it. His lord and cousin reasoned that if it had to be done (which Dwalin still was not at all convinced that it did) it was better to ease his heirs into understanding this pivotal observance over a long period of time, rather than shock them with it all at once. They were reasonably intelligent boys; give them long enough and perhaps they would put two and two together and spare them the trouble of having to explain too much outright. 

The uncle of said youths also happened to loathe difficult conversations with his nephews, and left as much of it as he could to Balin, their mother, or even more troublingly, Dwalin. Unlike his brother, Dwalin wasn’t exactly known for being chatty . When the terrors had been younger, it had been easy enough to explain it away as a yearly hunting trip. The boys were needed in Ered Luin with their mother, and were too unskilled to traverse the dangerous lands that were ideal for hunting in the autumn. In truth, it was up to the Ri brothers to do the actual hunting in the usual places while Dwalin and Thorin saw to the venerated ritual.

The dwarrow of Erebor did not historically acknowledge a God of Harvest. Unfortunately for their people, they had left Erebor long ago, driven from their homeland by a fire-wyrm. Along the arduous journey of many years across Middle Earth, there had been endless hidden rules to learn about the upper world and its surface-dwelling peoples; some that could be learned by listening and observing and other, far more bitter lessons that could only be learned the hard way. Immigrating a large group of non-indigenous dwarrow to a place once known as Belegost - a mountain kingdom that was half crumbling into the sea and the echoes of ages past still haunted the very stone - had not come without its lessons. Whether they had ever in the past acknowledged a God of Harvest didn’t matter, for the land they dwelled in commanded it now. 

Dwarrow also were not historically known for assimilating, but desperate times called for desperate measures. They’d been warned in no uncertain terms when they arrived in the area of how the land demanded a tribute in the fallow season, but for the first several years had been too stubborn to listen. Thorin especially brushed it off as human superstition, halfling nonsense, and elvish lies. Eventually, when their settlement in Ered Luin began to require more of their food in trade than was sustainable to afford for their people, and likewise the surrounding communities were running out of food to sell to them , Thorin finally agreed to look into the matter.

Town by town the story varied - how the tradition had begun, or what entity it was even for, and why. In dark days, some said, it required a higher price to be paid, but thankfully there was no one alive with any living memory of those times. Now it seemed satisfied - if not fiercely insistent - that any community with more than a half dozen families perform the rite during the season of gwivashazdînmerag , within a fortnight of Durin’s Day. Dwalin and Thorin typically timed it so that they returned within two or three days of the sacred holiday and could celebrate their arrival with a traditional feast in the company of their kin.

It had been the two of them from the very beginning. Thorin could not bear to dole out the responsibility to anyone but himself and his closest companion. It was less of a violation this way, since they were already frequent visitors to each other’s beds. Having a shag on top of an eerie altar in front of a shadowy figure that only appeared when they went looking for it during that particular season in that particular wood wasn’t bad as far as “sacrifices” went, in Dwalin’s opinion. Though it seemed more like the kind of thing done in spring, but who was Dwalin to question the will of… whatever peeping-tom, immortal wraith needed the yearly humping display?

If he were being honest, he looked forward to this now. They never had a bad time, at any rate. Less so this year he could only presume. The boys, though both of age (Kili just a couple years ago), were company that tested his patience even on his best days. They would be full of endless questions as to why they weren’t hunting. They weren’t likely to stay where instructed or do as they were told, and the only reason Dwalin hadn’t outright refused this idiotic idea was because, somehow, he and Thorin had never been interrupted during the act. 

There must have been some mystical force field (probably all that fog that would suddenly surround them when they stumbled upon the right place) or magic that kept others away while he and Thorin were otherwise occupied. They never saw anyone else there, either, though presumably other settlements sent pairs to settle their accounts. Once the deed was done, the fog would gradually disappear, and they would find their way once more, and reunite with their companions who stood guard to wait for them. (Balin and Nori had been keen to test all the factors they could think of when investigating the rite. It wouldn’t do for the common people to find out what their prince got up to in the name of a mysterious, un-dwarrow power.) 

(It would look to their people precisely like what Dwalin suspected it actually was, given the history of their place of habitation. Dark magic. Dark magic that was better off being appeased than opposed.)

There was practically no chance they would be found out, but there was every chance of the lads getting into some stupid trouble while he and their uncle’s backs were turned. 

***

The sun had set hours ago, and Fili didn’t think he could hold Kili back any longer. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer. His brother was wearing down the grass where he paced in worry. Something was wrong, and his priority wasn’t convincing Kili the opposite was true anymore. It was finding out what had happened to their uncle and Dwalin.

He hated admitting it but his brother was right. Something hadn’t been normal about this from the start. Thorin and Dwalin had been downright shifty about this trip - telling them to pack less than they usually would for a hunt, and then there had been the intense but nearly silent fight between their mother and uncle before they left. Dwalin wasn’t exactly verbose but even his grimace was grimmer than usual. They’d been instructed to make camp by an outcrop of stones a quarter league or so away from the treeline. Before they watched their elders disappeare into the forest, Thorin had said to expect them shortly after sundown. Midnight had come and gone, and there had been no sign of them.

“So?” Kili pressed, eyeing the small fire they had lit then squinting into the darkness toward the forest. 

“Alright. But swear to me,” Fili growled as his little brother immediately started breaking down the camp, “that you will not leave my sight, nor let me leave yours. Should-to-shoulder the whole time, am I clear?”

“Yes, uncle ,” Kili hissed irritably and kicked dirt into the fire. 

Fili sighed and rolled his eyes, and tried not to dwell on how alluring Kili looked as his little brother shouldered his bow and silently made his way forward with all the skills and sudden focus of a seasoned tracker. Frowning, scowling, and seething (not to mention the occasional, unexpected bout of competence ) brought out an attractiveness in his naddith that Fili couldn’t quite explain. Thankfully he could hardly give himself away by provoking his brother’s temper, and Kili never seemed to suspect his elder brother wasn’t just doing it to get a rise out of him.

Such thoughts were unworthy of him as a crown prince and older brother. These facts had never stopped the thoughts, unfortunately. Appropriateness of time and place seemed to have little influence over him, either. Now, for instance, when he should have been focused on finding his uncle and Dwalin, he was far more distracted by the moonlight shining down through the trees and alighting Kili’s chestnut hair in a mesmerizing dapple. The glinting silver braid-bead Fili had made and gifted Kili for his latest name day glittered as his brother moved fluidly over the hard ground. Feigning ignorance when his mother asked him why it looked so much like a courting bead was also below him, but he’d done it nonetheless. It was probably because, he had assured her carefully, his very favorite bead ever crafted was worn in her hair, and had been crafted by none other than his belated father. He must have been unconsciously thinking of that.

His mother wasn’t a sentimental dwarrowdam, except in some cases. It had worked to throw her off. When Bofur had joked at Kili’s name day celebration about it, Fili simply told everyone he knew it was the only one Kili would ever get, and Fili was just doing his naddith a favor.

The ensuing fight had been enough to turn everyone’s attention from it. He’d apologized to Kili that night. Knowing his little brother was still sulking under his covers, he’d slipped into bed beside him instead of going to his own, and admitted that he’d been embarrassed by the coincidence and shouldn’t have used Kili to side-step his own humiliation. He didn’t really believe Kili would never receive a courting bead. Seeing how easy it was for Kili to get along with others, he’d probably receive one far sooner than Fili ever would.

He sighed and shook his head to chase away the memory, then realized suddenly he had no idea where they were. The clear skies and moonlight were gone. They were surrounded by thin, gnarled trees on all sides. When had they entered the forest? Where was the path? Where had all this fog come from?

Kili had gone deadly still, likely realizing their predicament at the same time as Fili. He turned slowly to his brother, eyes wide with confusion.

Did you see how we got here? Fil hastily signed.

Kili shook his head frantically. 

Stay calm, Fili tried to remind him.

Fili! It must be wights!

Fili shook his head sternly. Stop. Not helping. Torch.

Kili immediately scrambled to retrieve the wood and cloth from his pack, only to turn around and find it suddenly gone. Fili reached for his dagger and realized that he, too, had been relieved of his gear and weapons. Fog began to thicken and swirl around them and they quickly drew closer to one another, back to back as they tried to see through the thick clouds.

“Fili —”

“Don’t let go of me!” Fili shouted, and they linked hands. As soon as it began, it was over. Suddenly the fog fell - as if it were suddenly pulled down to the ground - and swirled lazily at their feet. They were in a clearing now, the looming trees now further away, and they both laid eyes at the raised structure in the middle of the area at the same time.

“What is that ?” Kili whispered loudly, but made no move to go investigate. It looked to Fili like an altar or large throne of some sort. There was no other way to explain it but that the stone it was made of looked… wrong. Foul. A sheenless black rock, it was marbled with a brown, almost red mineral that he didn’t recognize, and great, thick, thorned, black vines grew around it almost like a grotesque frame. Odd as it was to notice, there was a small bowl perched on a raised part of the stone - where one might consider the arm of a chair to be. 

Graced am I by the youngest of Durin’s sons.

A voice felt at first like it might split their eardrums and carried pain and terror throbbed around them, and immediately they both fell to their knees and covered their ears. It did nothing, since the voice was inside them as well.

The God of Harvest receives whatever sacrifice the God of Harvest desires. The would-be king and his loyal dog have come as they have each year before, yet it is now the golden king of years-to-come and his beloved who will satisfy me. Do as I command, and not only will your people prosper through another winter, but I will make a way that you may follow home .

Fili and Kili looked at each other, fear written in their eyes, but also the resignation that there was  nothing they could do but face the creature. Slowly looked up to see a shroud of darkness before them. Like the blackest, putrid smoke bleeding outward from a void, just hovering there menacingly.

“What…” Fili swallowed and almost choked with how parched he had become, “what have you done… with our kin?”

They seek me, but they will not find me. Never again. You will bear the responsibility. You will lead, and be followed. Hear me, Fili, son of Vili, crown prince of Erebor. Do as I command and you will be reunited. They do not have what I require, but you and Kili do.

Kili flinched at the mention of his name. Whatever was going on, it seemed like it had no interest in Dwalin and Thorin, and was only keeping them separated until it had what it wanted. Whatever that was.

“What is it you want?” he said more resolutely this time, and dared to stand while his brother followed unsteadily after him.

It is good, is it not, when interests align? What is it you want, oh prince? Show me. Take your brother to my altar and show me what you want, and I will be satisfied. As your elders have done and returned faithfully year after year, do as I command now and you will never need to return here again. As promised, a path will be laid for you and your kin to the solitary mountain.  

“As our elders have done?” Kili managed to inquire shakily. “What have they done? What path? What do you want?”

“Kili —” Fili tried to stop him.

A splitting, white-hot pain flashed in their skulls and visions passed behind their eyes. They saw a vast land beyond the Blue Mountains, where the sea should have been. Mighty kingdoms were built and crumbled in seconds and the lands changed rapidly before them. A malevolent presence lingered out of sight as the ages came and went, and suddenly they were back in the clearing, eyes open and pain gone. Faded shadows of people of all sorts passed before them like echos. Always two at a time, walking swiftly to the altar and falling atop each other in a rush of lust and passion. An elf and a woman, two humans, two halflings, a halfling and an elf - the combinations were varied and endless, until finally they found themselves watching in growing alarm as the shadowy figures of Dwalin and their uncle approached the altar. 

“Alright, alright! Enough! We get the point!” Fili panicked as the two reached the bottom of the stone and turned toward one another. 

“You… you want us to have sex for you?” Kili recoiled. “What kind of load is —”

“Kili shut up!” Fili snarled.

You cannot comprehend my reasoning, young mortal? Tell me, littlest prince of the Longbeards, what do my reasons amount to, to you? When it doesn’t even matter what they are, for you will take any reason, whether nonsensical or otherwise?

“Stop talking to it,” the elder prince warned. 

Who is to say you didn’t pray for this again and again at night, Kili, while you laid so innocently next to your elder brother and tried to think of good reasons not to touch yourself. Or more importantly, reasons not to touch him  —

“Stop it!” Kili shouted. 

“Kili look at me,” Fili insisted and grabbed his brother by his shoulders. “We can’t let this thing get into our heads  —”

Far too late for that, dear lion. What things would your little brother see in your noble head, should I show him? 

Fili quickly averted his eyes from Kili’s gaze and released his shoulders.

Of course, there is always another path. It is the one where you do not do as I command. In consequence, not just your people will suffer my wrath for this insult. I will ensure the line of Durin cannot endure from your branch, and your legacy will wither, and a Fell winter will spread across the land for generations. Make your choice, princes.

“Kili… I can’t make you do this,” Fili ground out, still refusing to meet his brother’s gaze. “If we run —”

“Run?” Kili spat, nearly hysterically. “To where? To tell uncle we refused this thing? That a Fell Winter and the end of your line is coming? We cannot bring this ruin upon an entire region! Maybe… maybe Thorin didn’t stumble upon this with the last person he wanted to even look at the way you’ve had to, but it couldn’t have been easy for them either. Let’s… let's just get it done as they have. Just… close your eyes and think of some lass and then we can leave .”

Fili’s eyes snapped up and he stared at his brother with a horrified expression.

“Kili you can’t be serious! I’m not going to force you —”

“You’re not forcing me! Hello! Look at me! I’m agreeing to do this and get on with it! So quit feeling sorry for yourself and  —”

“I’m not feeling sorry for myself, I’m feeling sorry for you ! I know… I know you never planned your first to be with… with me. I’m your brother, you wouldn’t, you don’t  —”

“And I’m so sure you’re just bursting with excitement to have to share a hump with your pathetic little brother who has no beard and is a spare and is just exactly your idea of who you’d like to take to some haunted sex ritual.”

It was then, Fili believed but couldn’t be sure, that the black-void-entity still hovering next to them sighed impatiently.

“Don’t say that,” Fili muttered awkwardly. “You know I hate that. You’re not a spare . Not to me.”

“Well then… stop torturing yourself over what you think you’re doing to me. We’re here, looks like we’re the chosen ones… let’s just… do it.”

They shared a hesitant moment before Kili warily stepped around the mass of floating black to approach the altar.

“Ugh, this looks like the least comfortable place for a fuck,” he grumbled, and Fili shook his head at the audacity on display in his brother that he should still have the gall to complain.

“Ew, what is this…? For Durin’s sake,” his brother scowled as he dipped a finger into the bowl Fili had previously noticed and rubbed his fingers together to inspect the substance.

To ease your joining, young one. Now proceed, for I have indulged your cowardly hesitation long enough.

The smoke faded into nothing, but neither of the princes was foolish enough to believe the thing had actually left . They could still feel the heavy, unpleasant presence whether or not it was visible.

Fili rubbed the back of his neck, nerves like he had never known before kept him rooted to the spot while his brother continued to inspect the profane structure.

“Well, I don’t suppose it’s, uh, I mean, you’re the elder and um… the future king. I suppose… I should…”

“Should what?” Fili blurted. 

“Take… the um… su-su, hm,” he cleared his throat as a blush rose high on his cheeks. “The submissive… position. Right?”

“I don’t —”

“Yeah, okay. That should work. I’ll just… should I get all the way undressed, or —”

FIli couldn’t take this anymore one way or another, and since there was no getting out of it, he needed to take action. He couldn’t leave his brother to shoulder this responsibility entirely.

“Sit,” Fili said firmly, though he didn’t feel an ounce of the confidence that his voice feigned. Kili immediately sat atop the “seat” and looked up at his brother with wide, trusting eyes. “Just follow my instructions.”

Fili knelt before his brother and placed his hands on his knees and gently pulled them apart, keeping his eyes on Kili’s face for any sign of distress. He inhaled shapely when Fili slowly slid his hands up his thighs and unclasped the buckle of his trousers.

“Okay?” FIli asked.

Kili swallowed hard and nodded. He ran his tongue across his lips and Fili was suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to do the same. Slowly, very slowly, he leaned forward and pointedly looked at Kili’s lips before looking back up at his warm, brown eyes for permission. The slightest nod of affirmation, and Fili closed the distance between them at the same time he cupped his brother’s length.

His brother’s very hard length. Fili didn’t have time to think about that as Kili gasped against his mouth and he took the opportunity to taste him, finally . His naddith groaned and gave as good as he got, reaching up to grip Fili’s mane and pull him closer, caressing his tongue with his own with enthusiasm and more skill than Fili couldn’t account for. He stroked his brother firmly but slowly, gathering precum at the tip of his cock to smear along the length. He wanted to look at him, see him hard and weeping and even better yet, swallow him down, but he couldn’t. Whatever mind tricks Kili had played on himself to get his body to play along wouldn’t pass for tricks from Fili if he let his guard down. It would be obvious he wanted Kili. 

That thing had all but revealed his secret, but his brother had obviously been too panicked to understand what it was saying. 

This was the thing he’d wanted more than anything - more than his uncle’s approval or even his mother’s love, and yes, even more than Erebor. To be able to have it, but not … to taste it but not be allowed to swallow, to have his brother under him but only by the force of their circumstances, never to happen again… it was torture.

“S-stop, stop, Fili —” Kili suddenly broke the kiss and pulled back and Fili recoiled as if he’d been burned. This was it, Fili had crossed the line, Kili couldn’t bear it  —

“Don’t make me come before you. But please,” Kili panted, “don’t stop.”

Fili swallowed and furrowed his brow but nodded, dumbfounded. What were they doing ? Had this creature done something to make Kili want it?

Burning with internal heat, Fili tore off his leathers while Kili did the same. Fili helped him pull off his boots and tried not to feel like a creep for looking at his brother the way he was. With just their linen tunics between them now, Kili slowly reclined fully against the stone, while Fili hovered above him.

“I-I need,” Fili fumbled to say, “the uh… I need to… stretch you, so it won’t… so I don’t…”

Kili nodded and looked away as he spread his legs apart. A wave of dizziness almost threatened to overwhelm him as Fili tried with all his might not to see his beloved brother, hard and panting, spread out underneath him. He was there, right there, he couldn’t not see him, but he wasn’t allowed. This wasn’t allowed . 

Trembling, he reached up to the bowl and drenched three fingers in the slippery fluid. He eased himself between his brother’s thighs, spreading him even further before Fili than before and took as steadying breath as he placed a finger at the furl of his entrance. 

“Try to relax and push against my finger. It might sting and when it does, try to breathe and relax every muscle as much as possible. Don’t try to be brave, tell me if I hurt you immediately. Do you understand?”

“ Yes uncle ,” Kili snarked and the comment worked to break some of the tension between them. Fili rolled his eyes and leaned over to kiss his silly naddith on the forehead before returning to his lips. Kili again gasped against his mouth when Fili began circling the tight bud with more intention, and he distracted him with more deep, lingering kisses for several long minutes as he eased the first finger in. By the gods he wished he could tell Kili how beautiful he was when he threw his head back and whined, but he settled instead for drawing more noises of pleasure from him by kissing and licking and nibbling along the pale flesh offered. The second finger required even more distraction, and Fili trailed his hungry mouth down his brother’s sternum and teased and sucked his nipples until he was loose enough to accommodate Fili thrusting and stretching his digits inside his tight clench. Fili only wrapped his hand around his hard length again when he finally slid in a third finger, and Kili simultaneously begged for him to wait, please wait, but don’t ever stop, please more.

Kili held his own legs up and apart for his brother as Fili lined his neglected cock up with his brother’s wet, spasming hole. With a sense of dismay, Fili realized he would think about this moment every time he took someone to bed for the rest of his life. 

“Please, Fili,” Kili pleaded, tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. What he was begging for Fili couldn’t really know, or refused to believe. He took another breath and pressed forward into his brother’s virgin entrance and tried not to lose himself entirely to the tight, hot, embrace of his baby brother’s body. Kili went utterly still beneath him, eyes fixed on Fili’s in what looked like wonder. The sound of his breath leaving him as Fili bottomed out was exquisite, and suddenly Kili was pulling at him, clawing at his shirt and trying to wrap his legs around his older brother’s thick trunk unsuccessfully. Fili steadied Kili’s hips, mindful not to hurt him while Kili strained against him in a rush to seek whatever he was seeking.

“Kili, what are you —”

“Ungh, oh gods, please, please, move naddith, please —”

“Shh, shh, stay still. I’ll give it to you, I promise, just lay still.” If he continued to squirm like that, Fili was going to come, and fast. No matter what Kili said, there was no way Fili was letting himself come first. Kili trembled beneath him but stopped his frantic movements, and Fili slowly pulled out, then slowly thrust back in. Kili groaned and dropped his head back against the stone again, and Fili took the opportunity to bury himself in his brother’s neck, nearly bending the younger in half. Kili didn’t complain and only rolled his hips in time to meet Fili’s next slow thrust, and he cried out brokenly and squeezed his thighs against Fili’s sides as a result of the coordination.

“Fuck, Fili, oh fuck, fuck —”

“Kili, oh gods, naddith, oh fuck  —”

“Feels good, Fee, fuck it feels so good. More, more, fuck me harder Fili, please —”

“Ah!” Fili said in surprise, both at what his little brother had just said, but also at how his hips kicked forward of their own volition to deliver a much rougher thrust than he’d yet given. 

“Yes! Fuck yes please! Please Fili, please —”

Fili couldn’t take it anymore. He pushed himself up on his hands and delivered several hard thrusts that sent his brother’s voice into the trees and sky. “Fili! Oh gods, I’m gonna come, fuck, please, please Fili just come inside of me, please come inside of me, please —”

Fili was falling before he could stop himself and he leaned over and sank his teeth into Kili’s shoulder, delivering thrusts that sent Kili sliding up the stone so that his head hung over the other side, licking the bright red marks in apology. 

“Yes Kili fuck yes ah ah AH KILI —”

Fili relished the feeling of hot, wet seed and his brother’s nails tearing the flesh down his back as he came harder than he could ever remember coming before in his life. As his brother had demanded, he spilled himself inside his naddith, growling and groaning against the abused flesh of his little brother’s shoulder as the pleasure of his orgasm was ripped from his loins, and the evidence of it flooded Kili’s passage. 

Almost immediately the atmosphere changed. Rays of dawn light broke through the clouds and the air felt warmer, and less malevolent. Kili blinked and shared his awareness, paying more attention now to their changing surroundings than the fact that Fili was still inside of him.

Carefully and with far more gentleness than he’d ever let Kili witness him showing, Fili pulled out and dutifully helped his little brother wipe himself clean. They both dressed in silence, not bothering to address the situation or ask where the thing had gone. They turned their backs to the altar to rearrange their clothing, and once they turned back around, it was gone. The trees were close again, and there was a clear path back to the edge of the forest.

Stranger still than all these happenings was that Dwalin and Thorin were waiting for them by their campsite when they returned, a deer, a boar, and two bags full of quail between them. They welcome Kili and Fili back as if nothing at all was amiss.

When Fili tried to question them about what had happened, and had begun to tell the tale of what they had been through (just up to the point of encountering the entity , and no further), Thorin and Dwalin looked at them both with so much concern that Fili and Kili eventually dropped it, and played it off as a bad joke. Fili could never really be sure, because perhaps this was how his uncle had meant it to happen. Or, perhaps, the entity had removed Thorin and Dwalin’s memory of the rite entirely. It had said that the rite would no longer be required if Fili did as it asked.

As for him and Kili, they eventually sorted it out. Any closer inspection of the event on either of their sides made clear that the longing had never been one sided. Despite it all amounting to  having a shag on an eerie alter in front of a shadowy figure, they hadn’t had a bad time, really. As for the path it had set them on, sitting on the throne many years later with his beloved brother by his side as consort, Fili could only be strangely grateful for it all.

#GF’sTrickorTreat2023 #gatheringfiki #fili/kili #durincest #sibling incest #dead dove do not eat #event submission #smutty smut smut

[obiyuki-beebs]

you called me x: a playlist

@snowwhite-andtheknight

Say My Name (Cover) - Hozier

Name - Goo Goo Dolls

Still Don’t Know My Name - Labrinth

Say My Name - Destiny’s Child

What’s My Name? - Rihanna, Drake

My Name Is (explicit) - Eminem

Say My Name - David Guetta, Bebe Rexha, J Balvin

The Name Song - Ralph’s World

Whatsername - Green Day

Name (On My Tongue) - vbnd, Katie Tupper, Connor Newton

Name - Justin Bieber, Tori Kelly

(draft) of a companion fic on the way! also have a spotify version if anyone wants it. 

#obiyukimadness23 #you called me x #event submission #playlist #trope wars #has a companion fic! #I feel like the ralphs world song is equivalent to a rick roll #in the context of a fic playlist #sorry #lol

[vivrhan]

　/ᐠ - ˕ -マ　 🎥　 all　 of　 the　 girls　 you　 loved　 before　 @y-ves

#vivrhan #decalcomanie ! the event #hi im back. im actually on hiatus but whatever im bored sm TT and IM SO SORRY FOR THE LATE SUBMISSION HELP. #kpop #kpop bg #kpop icons #kpop packs #kpop layouts #kpop aesthetic #kpop moodboard #bg layouts #bg moodboard #choi seungcheol #scoups #seventeen #scoups moodboard #seventeen moodboard #svt moodboard #alternative moodboard #fresh moodboard #soft moodboard #clean moodboard #messy moodboard #aesthetic moodboard #carrd moodboard #simple moodboard #spring moodboard #lq moodboard #film moodboard #archive moodboard

[shittysawtraps]

Hello Elon.

Before you is an electronic device. On the device is a single app. I think you know which app it is, Elon. Open the app and log in. You now have five minutes to scroll through every mean tweet about you from the past week. If you stay silent, you will be released. If you make even one whiny little crybaby post or ban a single person making fun of you, you will be strapped to a Space X rocket and launched into the sun. Good luck.

#shitty saw traps #submission #i love this account and had to submit something eventually so here it is #elon musk #twitter #current events

[krystal-prisms]

#submission #my bs #2023 #2023 predictions #dodgeball boy #apollo #dodgeball #world events #predictions #poll #polls #tumblr poll #vote

[bitemarx]

my piece for @simple-seranade’s ship of theseus au, as part of the @tss-storytime big bang!

read the fic here!

#tss storytime 2023 #tss story time 2023 submission #tss au #sanders sides #tss fanart #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #remus sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders #digital art #art #drawing #fanart #fandom events

[fmasecretsanta]

weehoo it's time for secret santa 2023!!

wanna make a little secret gift for the holiday season? really enjoy fma? then this is the event for u! any and all types of gifts will be accepted (yes, this includes the 10k essay we know u wanna write about how loki was unfairly treated by the narrative)

sign ups? HERE

faq? HERE

hotel? TRIVAGO

#mod post #fullmetal alchemist #fma #pls note this event will not accept submissions for incestuous or adult/minor themes! #some ppl just don't vibe with those and honestly i am trying to write a novel this month not have ppl yelling on either side of the aisle

[incorrect-hs-quotes]

KARKAT: WILL OLAF AND MINIONS EVER END? WILL I BE FORCED TO LIVE THE REST OF MY LIFE OCCASIONALLY SEEING OLAF AND MINIONS?

DAVE: said the baudelaire children

#submission #homestuck #incorrect homestuck quotes #karkat vantas #dave strider #mod terezi #occasionally seeing is a light way of describing the events #karkat may have the pov of the baudelaires but dave has the pov of mr poe the banker

[starlightlacrimosazpsff]

♧ 𝓑𝓮𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓭 𝓪 𝓟𝓻𝓮𝓽𝓽𝔂 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓴 ♧

CO-WRITTEN WITH: @heiayen EVENT HOSTED BY: @soleillunne

SYNOPSIS:

Being a spy has its own set of challenges. Being a spy for a vigilante group, in a nation ruled by corrupt officials that dare to usurp the rightful authority of governance, is at an entirely different level of difficulty. You decided to accept the job of spying on a pretty boy from Inazuma, suspected to be a threat for being an accomplice with a dangerous diplomat from Snezhnaya whom was also an exile from your own nation. Due to your own hubris, you may have just earned a new archnemesis.

ENTRY TYPE: Event Submission, GN!Reader

WARNING(S): fight scene with a bit of blood, descriptive violence, degrading language, etc...

CHARACTER: Scaramouche

•

•

•

Curse the gods and curse the heavens, this was the last time you signed yourself up for a bigger job! A political affair, maybe something bigger—Inazuma’s most important politician’s son is possibly colluding with one of Snezhnaya’s worst politicians. No one knew why and to make it worse, there was quite the chance whatever they were planning was in one way or another related to the very nation you lived in for years now: Sumeru. Frankly, it was a mess...

…and somehow, you managed to put yourself in the middle of it.

Everyone got concerned when Alhaitham first brought the news to light because no one knew what it would mean for Sumeru. The rulers here were not to be trusted, willing to do gods know what for their own gain. That was also why this group got created, to stand against them and fight for what was right. You offered to spy on him and, yes, you were greeted with objections from Nilou and Cyno— both claiming it would be too dangerous for you. However, in the end, you got the green light.

—and, oh, how bad of an idea it was.

Scaramouche had perfected the act of a corrupt politician's innocent son who did no wrong, and could not be judged by his mother’s crimes when he has proven to be different. He was polite to others, always with a gentle expression on his face. When you first started the job, you could not even believe that this man could possibly be planning something terrible.

Most importantly, he was really pretty.

You knew it should not matter to you, no; but you seriously could not believe someone with a face like his could be a bad person. Then again, they do say not to trust a pretty face.

Ignoring your inner crisis, the job was not that bad at first. Yes, it was pricey because Scaramouche was often a guest of expensive places; and you therefore got the chance to eat expensive food, drinks and just enjoy the life of luxury. It was not with your money either, because all of that was covered under mission expenses by Alhaitham. He did scold you to not order dishes that are too expensive, or you will be the one paying for them. You listened because you knew he absolutely meant it. Still, it was great to enjoy the life of the rich for once. Obviously, it was not all that pretty every time; and sometimes, you would just spend hours walking around with your camera while trying to spot Scaramouche and see what he was doing or if he was talking with anyone.

It was fun, until it was not.

The serenity that surrounded him, combined with the gentleness of everything he did was driving you mad. You were having a hard time genuinely believing that he was behind any kind of political affairs. He literally was so polite to an older waiter in a restaurant! You sat in your chair, staring in shock until another waiter placed food on your table.

There was just no way.

🦋

There was a way, actually.

It was sunny that day when you were simply sitting and observing him again. Nice weather, nothing was happening. You could have just spent this day at home, chilling; but alas, you still had a man to spy on. You could not rest until you were 100% sure that nothing threatened Sumeru, especially when two influential individuals from different nations are suspected to be behind said threat. Fortunately, it seemed that the heavens finally listened to you and you got a lead.

As you sat in a spot high enough to avoid being noticed, you suddenly noticed Scaramouche grab his phone. You wasted no time turning on your camera and zooming in to clearly capture his face.

It…was new.

That usually calm expression of his dropped and got replaced by a scowl. It was a new expression of his, one that you have not seen at all, so you watched him closely with blatant curiosity. Whoever he was talking to, they have clearly angered him—judging by the furrow of his brows and his lips curved into a frown. He yelled too, you noticed; and despite being no lip-reader, you could swear the words he yelled out were insults and curses. Somehow, a part of you felt satisfaction watching the person you were observing for weeks lose their cool completely.

You fought a smirk creeping on your lips. You could not explain why.

You shook your head and brought your attention back to him. The call went on for a few minutes before he ended it with a spat of insults, or so you guessed.

While you had no idea what he was talking about on the phone or if it was in any way related to your current mission, it was still a move.

Guess you should update Alhaitham about it…

🦋

The heavens were on your side for once. When you returned, you handed the recording to Alhaitham. Some time afterwards, you received the transcript of Scaramouche’s conversation. Some of the words were missing since he just was not able to lip-read them, but you were grateful for his work either way. You were even more grateful for the news that came with the transcript.

Scaramouche was, indeed, talking with the very person you and your team suspected: Il Dottore. In Snezhnaya, he was known for his questionable morals, to say the least...and work ethics. There was a saying that if anything was going wrong, it was probably his fault. He studied at Sumeru’s academy but was ultimately expelled and banned from the nation.

For the sake of your sanity, you did not ask why.

However, all this gave you a clear image of upcoming troubles if you did not act in time. You did not know the details yet, but knowing that someone as unpredictable as Il Dottore was related to the case—

You blinked. This was no good.

You looked back at the transcript.

According to it, Scaramouche and Dottore were meant to meet soon at some party for rich people which was actually great for you. You could spy on both suspects at the same time, after all. You knew it would be hard, but even the tiniest chance of getting any more information was worth the risk that came with it. Who knows? Maybe Scaramouche would yell some important details in some fit of anger, and you would overhear it…

That would be the ideal scenario, but not likely to happen.

You liked to dream sometimes.

Also, yes, you were right about the fact he was yelling curses...and insults. Plenty of them even, to the point where Alhaitham—according to the small note he left—just refused to write them down. You laughed to yourself upon reading said note.

Somehow, you could not help but feel… excited at the thought of meeting him.

It was weird. You could not give it a name, but you somehow became too intrigued and personally fascinated with him for your own good. You wanted to meet him, talk to him, and see the carefully crafted mask of politeness with your own eyes. You wanted to see it slip, see a part of the real him come out.

The ugly side that he tried so hard to hide from everyone.

Be the reason the mask slipped.

…gods. Maybe it was your sign to rest for the day. With even more questions and even fewer answers, you got up from the desk and started packing up your things.

The party was this week, after all. You should start preparing.

🦋

Dining in expensive restaurants was one thing.

Attending expensive parties full of important people was another.

Getting an invite for yourself would be hard, given how—well, you were not that important in society. Alhaitham was, on the other hand, so you simply went as his plus one. It was honestly not a bad thing since, thanks to it, you had someone to call for help in case anything went down.

You hoped nothing would.

The first part of your plan was—

“Oh! Are you alright?” A voice asked. You blinked and looked at just who exactly you bumped.

You blinked again. Oh.

You only ever saw him in pictures and from a distance, so only now you realized how…genuinely pretty he looks. He is so beautiful that he could pass as a vintage doll, very pretty.

Too pretty for a human, you would dare to say.

“Yes, yes...! I’m sorry for bumping into you.” You said, smiling.

Scaramouche smiled back, although something was off about it.

“Are you here alone?”

“Oh no, no…!” You shook your head, “I’m with my friend.”

You wondered how many questions he could ask and how many answers you could give him before it would get suspicious. You try to subdue your body language to absolute neutrality to cover your tells.

“Where is your friend?”

“He’s…” You looked around. Truth be told, you actually had no idea where Alhaitham was, “...somewhere?”

“What a friend he is, to leave you alone at a party.” He clicked his tongue and shook his head, “Mind if I keep you company?”

Oh, no.

“There’s no need.” You waved your hand, “You must be busy yourself, I don’t want to waste your time.”

You did not want to risk anything by spending even more time around him. Your plan was simple: it was to bump into him, stick the little microphone to his clothes, and happily listen to his conversation with the Snezhnayan politician. Once that was done, you deactivate the bug so it does not get traced back and you can go back to headquarters in Sumeru with Alhaitham discreetly.

You did the first part and managed to stick the microphone to the inner edge of his suit. Now, you planned on leaving as fast as possible; but alas, that did not happen.

“I insist.” He smiled wider.

A shiver ran down your spine.

You did not understand why he would insist on staying with you. From all the time you spent watching him, he did not seem like someone so willing to accompany a stranger for no reason. Even when he was wearing his gentleman mask, he would always avoid prolonged idle chats and act reserved in the background.

There was no way he somehow found you out, right?

“Well...?” He tilted his head, the curve of his lips dropping just a tad.

“If you insist.” You forced a smile.

His own grew back into a beaming grin.

You had a terrible feeling about it, but still let him lead you deeper inside his web.

“What’s your name?” He asked, and you gave him the first fake name you could think. You were not worried about him somehow calling your bluff. After all, how in the world would he find out?

You just hoped he would not ask about Alhaitham.

He hummed with a nod. “Your friend is…?”

“He’s a businessman!” You blurted out. Good gods, it was as if he read your thoughts and decided to make things harder! “He didn’t have anyone as his plus one, so asked me to come.”

“A businessman, you say?” He raised his eyebrows and you nodded.

“He’s a very busy man, so that’s probably why he left me alone here.” You figured that maybe rambling for long enough would buy you time to find a way of leaving, “He took over his parents’ company at a very young age and did very well, so obviously a lot of people admired him—huh?”

You turned your head at him when you heard him laugh under his nose. What was his problem?

“Do you always talk a stranger’s ears off?” Scaramouche questioned, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

“Well, I guess you’re special?” You shrugged; and before he could reply, you spoke again, “If you mind it, then maybe you should talk now? About yourself, maybe...?”

He looked at you and, somehow, you felt cornered by him in a room full of people.

“About myself...?” He chuckled lowly and leaned toward you, “Don’t you know it all already? Or maybe you’re not as good of a spy as you claim to be?”

You froze, stiffening from head to toe at his statement.

You were busted.

Scaramouche gracefully swiped a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. He keeps his eyes on you, the majestic midnight blue darkening into a burgundy shade. This is a glimpse into the true self you have been wanting to see, yet it sent chilling thrills throughout your body. To witness the seamless change between his hollow kindness to ominous threat, it almost made you flush with shame as a spy when you compared how his facade is legitimately smoother than yours.

“You sure hold a lot of confidence to spy on me,” he chuckled derisively, “yet you can’t even lie properly to save your life. Just from your rambling, I can tell you must have good backing. The downside is your supposed friend must be fairly recognizable. If you out him as your accomplice, your entire operation could fall.”

He took a sip from his glass, elegance blending perfectly with shrewd composure.

"The only smart thing here," he hums as he swirls the liquid, "is that plus-ones are not officially enlisted on the invitations. That means you get to hide your name from me, just a little while longer. That also means your friend gets to keep his dirty secret of being involved in these clandestine operations."

It was very impressive how he managed to deduce all that from one conversation with you. The sheer audacity that he was even laying it all out in the open for you showed how it barely made a difference to him. You have a lot to learn as a spy, it seems. This experience and encounter have just humbled you.

Scaramouche is quite a monster.

You shudder to imagine what it would be like to deal with Dottore.

“So, tell me.” He almost purred, “What’s your objective here, little mouse?”

You gaped incredulously, “Little mouse…?!”

Scaramouche blinked a few times, mocking a surprised expression.

“Oh, I’m sorry!” He teases haughtily, “I was trying to be nice but perhaps you prefer a more accurate nickname. How about a little fly? You sure love acting like one with how you kept hovering for the past few weeks just to get some dirt on me.”

You gritted your teeth as you glare at him, utterly humiliated and infuriated. He casually observes you from head to toe as he drinks the rest of his champagne. As he does, his other hand busied itself in dismantling the bug you implanted on him. With a smirk, he presents it to your face. He leans forward as if to intimately impart a secret.

“Not good at hiding your emotions either…” he notes tauntingly, “Am I your first job, little fly? Quite audacious of you, I must say.”

Your target sneers as he casually crushes the gadget in his fist, displaying an uncanny strength despite his delicate appearance. He drops it and stomps on the object for good measure, whispering to you. For the first time, you realize how dangerous Scaramouche could really be and how arrogant you have been by taking this job.

“You ain’t slick.” He laughs sharply, “How about I show you how it’s done?”

At that moment, he releases just a tad bit of killing intent that makes you instinctively shove him away from you without any coherent control over yourself. The rest of his champagne spills on your clothes, and he gasps—now playing the perfect gentleman again. He sets aside the glass on a nearby table, producing his handkerchief to wipe the stain on your arm and patting your torso lightly.

“A thousand apologies…!” Scaramouche said gently, “I didn't mean to startle you. It’s most fortunate the champagne did not spill too much on you.”

He then smiled so chivalrously that it made you blush. This man has a rotten personality yet his mask is flawless, especially with that pretty face! You know it is fake, a point being proven regarding how much he looks down on your own skills. In fact, because of this play, he has everyone’s attention now. He started the scene, and so he gets to control it—cornering you mercilessly.

“Go ahead.” His eyes seem to goad you, “Call for help from your friend. Let me see who else is behind your operations as I make you fall apart.”

To your credit, you managed to do the exact opposite. You were sure Alhaitham is also holding himself back from approaching for the same reasons. If you were going down, he cannot possibly reveal himself to Scaramouche and Dottore. It was all too clear you made too many mistakes when it came to spying on Scaramouche. The realization hurts your pride, but you have nobody else to blame but yourself. Thus, you did not resist as he touched your arm—deceptively tender as you feel his nails dig as a warning.

“Allow me to escort you to get cleaned.” Scaramouche offers gallantly.

It was not a request. Either you go with him, or he finds a way to hunt you down later.

You complied peacefully.

However, as soon as you are both out of sight and earshot, you will fight back. It was a shame you would have to bruise that pretty face, but the bastard deserves the hit.

He will pay for underestimating you.

🦋

Scaramouche saw your resistance coming.

In the dark of night away from the party, you turned your arm in such a way he was forced to bend his hold. With his balance off, you aimed your free fist towards his face but he dodged effortlessly—that pretty smile still on his face. Burgundy eyes gleam under the moonlight, as if pleased to see your spirit.

It was ironic how you had wished to be the reason Scaramouche’s mask falls off.

However, he was the one doing it to you.

That knowledge serves to piss you off even more as you lunge forward. Hit after hit, he dodges skillfully with the reflexes and agility of a graceful feline. At one point, he boredly taps your wrist away to misdirect your fist and proceeds to use your momentum against you by aiming his knee against your stomach. In a last minute maneuver, your body twirls in a way that would have made Nilou proud. As you fall, one of your hands plants on the ground to help you spin a kick towards his face. He raises his arms to block to which you swiftly flip away to gain some distance.

“Not bad,” Scaramouche smirks appraisingly, “it seems you’re not so hopeless after all.”

He flicks his wrists, showing that the power of your kick did not leave him unfazed. However, you paled a bit when he ended up producing a butterfly knife. Frankly, the tricks he displayed with it impresses you; but you quickly covered it up with a dark glower.

“Don’t pout, little fly~!” He coos in a sickeningly sweet tone, “If you’re dirty enough to intrude on my privacy, I’m dirty enough to use weapons on an unarmed person.”

You huffed, “You seem to put a lot of effort on someone you deem as an insignificant insect.”

He scoffs back at you, “Don’t flatter yourself. I just want to see you bleed for causing this much trouble for me.”

“If you kill me here,” you bluff, “you won’t have a way to cover it up.”

Scaramouche pauses before manic glee flashes in his eyes. He snorts before erupting into full chortles. His cheeks flush pink in genuine hilarity, lips spread wide open with laughter. It made him appear innocent, a young man who was having the time of his life. Alas, the context is darker than that for you. It shows from the glint reflected in those malicious amethysts that glare back at you.

“Why,” he chirps boyishly, “are you scared, little fly?”

He scowls bitterly, “You really think you’d be the first murder victim I’ve cleaned up in these sorts of gatherings. I have plenty of experience, and I know how to handle your type while making it look like an accident...or just have you go missing entirely.”

The blade in his hand glints menacingly as he points it at you.

Then, he attacks.

You sucked a breath through your teeth, flinching to instinctively dodge the stab he aimed at your eye. He is very fast! He is lightning fast, and fluid too. He was not just stabbing or mindlessly swinging. Every movement is precise and nimble, like an assassin who has eliminated all sorts of targets. For every swipe and thrust, he makes use of his entire body and especially his flexible wrist which flicks to aim at the slightest weakspot he sees within a blink. At one point, you manage to kick him back and his moment of shocked astonishment made your chest swell with pride. However, your smug grin immediately falters when he dashes at you while changing hands for his blade and vanishes in a split second—

—only to reappear behind you to hold your entire body in a chokehold, pointing the blade straight to your jugular. It applied enough pressure to cut, making you wince as your skin bled. His lips almost seductively graze your ear, chuckling softly.

“Give up, mousey.” Scaramouche murmurs.

You grunted, “Never.”

“Fine. Then perish.”

On cue, a smoke bomb drops by yours and Scaramouche’s feet. You did not hesitate to elbow him in the gut when his hold loosened in alarm and distraction. You then made a swift escape and barely dodged the blade that blindly flew past your cheek. It embeds onto the cobblestone pathway with a metallic clang. At the same time, your keen hearing detects the sound of a familiar bird call that can only come from the ever quick-witted Alhaitham. With a relieved sigh, you follow the sound into the darkness.

You need a drink as soon as you get back to headquarters.

🦋

Scaramouche silently stood alone in the garden.

He was leaning against a pillar, one hand in his pocket. He then holds up a vial of your blood to the moon, having collected it from the blade that nicked your cheek and neck. It was a meager sample but more than enough for Dottore to know everything about you once Scaramouche hands it over to him. The thought left a bitter taste of disdain in his mouth, but this is not his expertise and he wants results.

He wants to see you again.

Clacking footsteps made his ears twitch but he did not move from observing the crimson elixir as it glowed beneath the moonlit gaze.

“They got away.” Scaramouche informs the stranger coldly.

“Really now?” Dottore laughs humorlessly, “You’ve gotten soft.”

“Shut the fuck up!” The younger male hissed, “Let them and whatever company they keep have this false sense of security. It would be more advantageous for us anyway.”

He shoves the vial towards the unethical doctor, crossing his arms in haughty irritation. His dark burgundy eyes stared blankly at where he last saw you—held you in his arms, and felt shivers down his spine as you fought him with the ferocity of a wild beast.

“I know their type.” Scaramouche gruffly explains, “They would bite their own tongue rather than start talking. They make for a lousy spy based on their skills, but their attitude is stellar for the job.”

Dottore grins widely, “Ha! Careful there, Balladeer. You almost sound doting as you praise the vermin.”

Scaramouche gives him a murderous expression.

“Just get out of my sight!” He spat, “We’re done here.”

Unwilling to spend more time with his co-conspirator, Scaramouche makes himself scarce from the premises. One of his hands combs through his hair agitatedly before loosening his collar with a deep scowl. He can feel his arms bruising after the scuffle, making him laugh under his breath. You surely gave quite the fight even if he had no plans to really kill you tonight.

“Let the games begin, mousey.” He mumbled, “I do love a good chase.”

The Balladeer hopes you were better at running than spying.

It would be boring if he catches you too soon.

•☆••☆••☆•

#genshin impact #𝗜 αnσdчnє sαвαísm 𝗜 #genshin oneshots #event submission #gn!reader #scaramouche #kunikuzushi #wanderer #wanderer genshin #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #kabukimono #kunikuzushi x reader #kunikuzushi x you #kabukimono x reader #kabukimono x you #the balladeer #fatui harbingers #saudade; milestone #slight!tw #sfw

[pkmnirlevents]

A Raid on Team Calm's Lab?!

Due to further issues found with Team Calm's Pokemon, outrage ensues and their Alola Lab will be raided to save the Pokemon captive there!

Relatively low stakes single day event, during the Miku Pride Performance. Likely sometime between June 7th and June 14th. Exact date will be announced once it approaches.

Looking for characters to raid the Alola Base. Plus, maybe a couple more people to help plan? Join our Discord here!

Major players: @team-calm, @prof-lemon, and @champion-class-hatsune-miku.

Special thanks to @ariadosanon for helping to plan it!

.

#event submission #JUNE23LS #evil teams #team calm #subject to updates

[fortheloveofdeaddove]

Gathering Fiki Trick or Treat 2023 10/23 prompt submission

"Something in the Depths"

Content Warnings: Dark, Rape (non-graphic-ish), Durincest, Sibling Incest, Non-Con, Disassociation, Mind Break, Dragon Sickness trope, short fic (sorry if I missed anything, feel free to let me know)

Author's note: Not edited or beta'd. Sorry for any mistakes. Thanks @gatheringfiki and @linane-art for organizing this! Sorry for my last submission, it was a very poorly formatted post lol.

Please pay attention to the tags, stay safe and well! Happy spooks!

Read under the cut or check it out on Ao3!

Something In The Depths

Kili stared at the gold.

He stared, unblinkingly, at the gold.

He watched it, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of it.

Not even now, as his closest and most trusted friend and brother disrobed him carelessly with greedy hands and gleaming eyes that rolled over him with covetousness and something worse. 

Madness.

But Kili couldn’t stop staring at the gold. Not as his brother and future king fell to his knees before him and took him in his mouth, not as Fili tugged him down to the cold pile of it beneath them, and not as his brother took, and took, and took, and took from him and — there! At last! 

There it was. Just as Fili was finding his satisfaction, Kili’s roaming, unfocused gaze spotted it. Movement.

In the gold. Just beneath the surface, like a great serpent that skimmed just below the water. He’d known all along it was there - he could feel it watching them from underneath and he couldn’t understand why no one else had noticed. There, under the mounds of treasure, lay a great, terrible, monstrous beast intent on devouring them all.

The dragon hadn’t been the only monster awaiting them in the end.

#GF’sTrickorTreat2023 #gatheringfiki #fili/kili #durincest #sibling incest #dead dove do not eat #event submission #non con #rape #dark fic #read the tags #short fic

[obiyuki-beebs]

you called me x: event submission

First third(ish) of a fic! because it’s 3 AM and I’m sleepy and this is the only part that I’m (mostly) satisfied with so here ya go. Companion playlist posted here. Ok goodnight.

@snowwhite-andtheknight

Shirayuki prided herself on having a knack for answering questions. 

This skill could be attributed to multiple traits; her quiet brilliance, a devout love of research, and an uncanny capacity to solve almost any problem presented to her. 

She enjoyed observing her world and figuring out the how and the why. She hoarded questions and carried them around like candy in her pocket, on her mind until she could find or deduce an answer, and always ready to chew on it for a while if it could give her the satisfaction of knowing. 

What frequency do bumblebees need to vibrate at in order to release pollen from certain types of flowers, like blueberries in their blooming stage? Middle C, which is how they are able to use buzz pollination, something honeybees are incapable of, making bumblebees indispensable in the ecosystem and farmers alike. 

Why are we told not to rub our eyes? It can cause corneal abrasion and worsen allergen exposure in the short term, and cause keratoconus in the long term, which is a thinning and deformation of the cornea over time. This had been a notably hard habit to break. 

Does bi-weekly refer to every two weeks or twice a week? Infuriatingly enough, both, depending on the context. 

Is a hot dog a sandwich? Yes, by definition. Is cereal soup? No, also by definition, though somehow she was more perturbed by this question than she had originally thought she could be. 

Shirayuki's ability to answer questions was not limited to health and the natural world. Her friends and colleagues often came to her for advice on various matters, whether it was about relationships or career choices. 

It also gave her a spectacular penchant for dominating trivia nights with her friends. 

Shirayuki liked answers. 

That was why, when she stumbled across a question she couldn’t answer, well… that could pose a problem. 

An extremely distracting problem with a long torso and a laugh that made her lift her head from her book whenever she heard it. 

A problem that had the potential to make her forget to step off the train on her way to the lab. 

A problem that might keep her up at night, undoubtedly chewing her lip and in a dissociative stare-down with the glow stars that she and Yuzuri had painstakingly pressed onto Shirayuki’s ceiling when they became roommates. 

Currently, she had such a problem. She couldn’t stop asking herself why, out of all of their friends, she was the only one who Obi still referred to by a nickname. 

She had always wondered, of course. 

For years, it seemed like he was on the tips of his toes, poised to bolt at the drop of an ill-chosen comment. In the early stages of all of them knowing each other, there had always been distance he placed between them. Rarely, if ever, did she see him drop his stoic smile; the smile he wore when he wanted people around him to be at ease. A smile that, though similar to his real one, wasn’t the same.

Sometimes, she thought of him in those early days and remembered the feral cat she’d befriended as a child outside her grandparent's pub. It had taken what felt like years for it to warm up to her, persuaded by one greasy palmful of stolen chicken at a time. 

Slowly but surely, Obi, just like that cat, had seemed to relax. Seemed to drop an anchor into their veritable sea of knowing each other. Or, at the very least, the bag she knew he kept packed under his bed started to gather dust. 

And then, one random night in May while they were enjoying their sometimes-weekly hang-out, Obi called Mitsuhide by name. Casual, as if he was asking them to please not make a big deal about it. 

Kiki had only smiled. Mitsuhide, who couldn’t hide anything if he tried, gaped like a fish with a hook still in its lip. Zen made a toast with his IPA, describing the continuous work it takes to be vulnerable and open with one's friends.

Progress had been slow after that. Obi waited another two months before dropping the joking “Princess” he usually used in conjunction with Kiki’s name. Ryuu was easier, as he was now taller than Obi and nearly at a level with Mitsuhide. Suzu, Yuzuri, and even his greatest chess adversary, Izana, were now all called by name instead of the nicknames Obi had been using as a last wall of defense against intimacy. 

The shock and sentimentality of the situation had kept Shirayuki from wondering, at least for a little while, why he hadn’t said her name yet. 

–

First, she had verified that he did indeed only call her by a nickname. She kept notes (in a marble composition tucked between her planner and her field notebook). But only one spreadsheet. One spreadsheet file, if she was being specific. She refused to count the sheet tabs in said file. (Four).  

When considering the question – that is, why only she remained among his nameless friends – she had come to the conclusion that he would get to her eventually. She just needed to be patient.

–

As it happened, Shirayuki also prided herself on her patience. 

She could wait. She had waited for so many things. 

As a child, she had waited for the cookies her grandfather had just baked to cool before stealing away with three of them and up the creaking stairs to her bedroom on the third floor. 

She was perfectly capable of putting in the slow, steady work needed to help her plant seeds germinate in the spring and even more patient with them as they spread roots and grew wildly over her trellis in the summer. 

She had waited for Zen to be able to publicly commit to her; had waited for him when they had been in a long-distance relationship for nearly four years; had waited for her feelings for him to be fulfilling again; had waited what felt like ages for him to accept that she meant it when she said she no longer saw him that way. 

She had demonstrated great restraint in not petting the feral cat all those years ago, instead letting it come to her. 

Yes, Shirayuki could be patient. 

So she waited, thinking that, eventually, it would be her turn, and he would call her by her name, implicitly reassuring her that they were as close as she considered them to be. 

–

And now here they were, nearly two whole years after the pivotal shift in nomenclature amongst friends, and Shirayuki found her patience to be entirely sapped.

Much to her consternation, Obi still only referred to her as “Miss,” and her question remained. Why had Obi thus far never used her given name? She had no idea. It entirely escaped her. This unanswered query had become the bane of her existence, plaguing her whenever she thought about him, which she also discovered was often and regularly. 

(No, she had not kept a data set of how often she thought about him. The thought had crossed her mind, and though the project was started, it was swiftly discontinued with vehemence due to extenuating circumstances relating to her inability to control the color of her cheeks.)

—

Shirayuki believed that every problem had a solution, and she was determined to figure out this one. She had a question whose answer entirely evaded her. She was losing sleep. It had become a matter of health. 

She started out with what she considered to be simple measures by sending him links to participate in Name-a-Plow-Truck events around the country, along with ridiculous – and hopefully fake – forum posts asking if the original poster was rude for laughing at their friend's baby name choice. She even went so far as to recommend watching Beetlejuice for movie night, which only ensured that they sang the Banana Boat Song back and forth to each other for what felt like weeks, followed by a rambunctious reprisal at karaoke in the fall. 

None of it worked. She had yet to hear him say her name. Clearly, her methods had not been effective. 

So she reconsidered. 

–

“Excuse me,” Yuzuri leaned out of the bathroom to get a better look at Shirayuki sitting with crossed legs on the rug outside the door, “you want to do what?”

“Obi doesn’t say my name. I’m the only one out of our friends that he doesn’t. So-”

“So you want to see if you can subconsciously influence him into saying your name? With a playlist?”

“Not all at once. Over a few weeks. Or months. I don’t want to tip him off too soon.”

“Uh-huh,” Yuzuri replied, voice reverberating in the sink as she leaned down to wash her face. 

“I thought you would be into it,” Shirayuki pouted, biting at the cuticle on her left hand.

“Stop picking.”

“You can’t even see me.”

“I can hear it.”

“How-”

“For the record, I am mostly into it. I am immensely amused by your plan, Yuki. You are exceptionally good at planning things out. Even if they are absolutely ridiculous and unnecessarily complicated. I am equally exasperated. You could just ask him to say your name. Honestly, please just do that.”

“What if-”

“Yuki. I promise your anxiety is lying to you. What are you afraid of?”

“I just want to try it this way and see if he gets it. It’s embarrassing to think about asking him that. We’re close, I know that, but it bothers me that he can do it for so many other people except me.”

Yuzuri, face now patted dry and shiny with lotion, leaned around the doorway again. She raised her eyebrows in a pointed look that Shirayuki chose not to deduce the meaning of. 

“You’re right, you are close. And both of you are idiots. Why a playlist?”

“We’re always listening to music, in the car, at karaoke, at get-togethers,” Shirayuki’s wilting confidence gained a new vigor as she spoke, choosing again to ignore the former half of Yuzuri’s sentence, “I already made one.”

“Please, for the love of all that is holy, let me see what you put on it. So, in short,  you’re planning to use subliminal messaging to convince Obi to say your name?”

“Exactly! I knew you would get it. Well, I guess not exactly. Subliminal messaging isn’t how I would put it.”

“Uh-huh.”

-- 

#obiyukimadness23 #event submission #you called me x #please forgive me #for I know this technically does not have the specified trope IN the submission post #it's leading up to it #and will be published #someday :D

[capn-twitchery]

submitted by @viric-dreams​

sorry ockham the “please don’t explode yourself” telegram didn’t work, twitch is gonna explode even more now just to prove a point

#submission #i am so slow at art today my god #cackling at the telegram tho GHFKVGH only appropriate reaction to knowing twitch and hearing about The Explosive Event #fred draws #twitch emojis #inquiries #viric-dreams

[starystruck]

I ADMIRE U AND UR WORK DONE!!! I LOVE STARY SO MUCH, UR ACCOUNT IS A SALVATION FOR ME!!!🥺🥺 love ya good luck and have a nice day!!

ps: I was inspired by ur productivity and decided to do this:3

It's always great seeing people enjoy and appreciate the blog sm!! It brings me tons of joy seeing ppl get more fond towards stary! This drawing is super adorable I'm happy to have inspired u!! <3 Hope u have an awesome day, take this too:

#answered #submission #fan mail #love this sm Stan would...once they're together officially he won't shut up about it haha #also atp I'ma make these guys react to fanart submissions every time! #its fun...it's ask blog reminiscent..mayhaps I'll do an event someday #anyways tysm for this!!!