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vodkassassin · 3 years

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You know what would be great? Ju Qingsong. How would he be great? Served with mash potatoes and lots of love. Or just maybe seeing more of him, both options work for me :3

Ah, my son boy. Yes, here you go, have more of him :3 @overlordmoth

—

Shen Qingqiu looks exquisite today.

Then again, he looks beautiful every day. The peak lord of Qing Jing is always so put together, aloof and untouchable. The very picture of an immortal master of cultivation. It’s part of the reason An Ding receives so many proposals — marriage, trade or otherwise — which inevitably leads to their poor sect leader being drowned underneath them when they all reach his desk at the same time that month.

Shen Qingqiu is sought after, and the best part is that the man doesn’t even seem to know it.

Well, at least not anymore.

The Shen Qingqiu of before certainly knew exactly how gorgeous he was, and did everything he could to use it to his advantage, just as he did anything else that might possibly work to his own benefit. The man was sly, conniving and scheming.

Shen Qingqiu after that qi-deviation fever, though…. Oh, it is so amusing to watch.

He catches someone’s eye, is how it always starts out. After all, how could they not stare at him? He’s a walking masterpiece. Shen Qingqiu of before would have noticed immediately, but it flies directly over the Shen Qingqiu of now’s head entirely.

Whoever it is that the man has caught in his net this time would double their advances, thinking that he is only playing hard to get. Joke on them, though, because Shen Qingqiu is about as dense as a stone fortification wall of the Imperial palace, when it comes to stuff like this.

Yes, it’s always so amusing to watch these lofty officials throw themselves at his beautiful martial brother, increasingly more obvious and dramatic in their advances, only for Shen Qingqiu to either not even notice, or simply misunderstand them so terribly that it is truly hysterical.

It’s one of Ju Qingsong’s favorite pastimes.

He leans back, nursing his cup of wine in one palm while bracing himself on the edge of the banquet table with his other.

Rong Qingsheng is beside him, as he usually is. Ju Qingsong turns to smile at his best friend, and finds the usual hilarity that lies in the way that Rong Qingsheng seems quietly overwhelmed.

Like a man lost at sea, drowning in the surplus of pretty people that surround them. Rong Qingsheng is an absolute sucker for anyone who is even slightly attractive. The man can spend hours crowd-watching, eyes flitting from one beauty to the next. Tonight, Rong Qingsheng’s eyes look a little wild, as if he’s not entirely certain where he wants to start.

It’s like that at peak lord meetings, too. All their martial siblings are so unfairly gorgeous. It’s a veritable feast for the eyes.

Ju Qingsong thinks it’s a little funny. Just a little. A little funny that his best friend is so absolutely certain that he himself is completely average. A little funny, because it’s hardly the truth.

Rong Qingsheng is a sucker, as well as blind.

“Hm!” Ju Qingsong says, a sound of curiosity escaping him as he spots something new. “Have we really been here that long?”

Rong Qingsheng sends him a frown. “What are you talking about? The banquet started barely a stick of incense ago.”

“Then, it looks like we’ve found another difference between the Qingqiu.”

Ju Qingsong juts his chin out, and his friend follows the gesture to stare, surprised, at the retreating back of the Qing Jing peak lord.

They both stare in astonishment as Shen Qingqiu abandons the political social games of the intermingling cultivators that is being conducted in the middle of the floor, and instead makes his way to the back, where Shang Qinghua has set up shop in his usual vantage point.

The peak lords tend to leave An Ding alone during these sort of events, in order to give better mobility in the eternal search of information. Shang Qinghua spends the latter half of events like this one flitting from one end of the hall to the other, snatching up details and overhearing things that he is not suppose to.

For the first half, he nurses a cup of tea against the wall and merely observes, eyes like that of a hawk.

He looks so lonely there, and occasionally Ju Qingsong has been tempted to go and join him, just to see if he can get that slump out of his martial brother’s shoulders. But he never is quite able to tell when Shang Qinghua is working and when he isn’t.

Clearly, Shen Qingqiu does not have similar issues. Or, he just can’t be bothered to care? The man sidles up and plants himself directly beside a rather stunned-looking Shang Qinghua, and that is where he stays for the next several hours.

He makes impressively quick work of loosening Qinghua up. It’s quite a thing to be audience to, in Ju Qingsong’s opinion, the slow blossoming of Shang Qinghua’s smile — the real, genuine ones are always so sweet, it’s like a hand tightening around your heart when you’re on the receiving end— and the step-by-step procession of the man slowly growing less and less tense in the duration of time that Shen Qingqiu spends providing him company.

It makes Ju Qingsong feel regret, for all the times over the decades that he has talked himself out of approaching Shang Qinghua himself. Had his martial brother truly been so lonely, each and every banquet?

What about outside of them?

He takes a peek at the man beside him, wondering if Rong Qingsheng has cottoned on to the same realization, only to blink at the way his best friend’s eyes are staring, intensely, across the room at the same scene Ju Qingsong has been watching for hours now.

“Qingsheng?”

Rong Qingsheng barely even twitches. Ju Qingsong follows his gaze, and narrows his eyes.

He shelves his guilt for the moment, to be pondered rigorously at a latter date, and immediately realizes what a picture the Qing Jing and An Ding peak lords make; comfortably leaning against the ornate stone wall of a warmly lit banquet hall, shoulder to shoulder, cups of tea cradled in their hands, bathed in the intermixing glow of hundreds of candles and night pearls. Talking only to one another and hiding their easy smiles behind a sleeve or a fan, completely at odds with the usual pool of sharks circling one another than inter-sect conferences tend to encourage.

It’s like a painting. Light green and white contrasting with rich indigo and black. A closed off, cold beauty that has softened for the bright beam of sunshine that stands at his shoulder, laughing in a relaxed manner. Their martial brothers truly are exquisite.

Ju Qingsong breathes out as slowly as he can, mouth curling up at the corners. He turns to his friend, mouth open to make a comment, only to stop and stare.

Stunned laughter escapes his mouth, and he’s barely conscious enough to catch and quiet it before it leaves. It would be just his luck for some of the other guests to hear him and pay them attention, especially now that —

He leans down, bumping his shoulder into Rong Qingsheng’s, and breathes out. “Qingsheng. Qingsheng, you’re drooling.”

Rong Qingsheng blinks, startled. His eyes widen imperceptibly, and he reaches up hurriedly to swipe the corner of his sleeve across his mouth.

His stare doesn’t once move away from where their two martial brothers are leaning against the wall, all the way across the room. He doesn’t even answer, like he usually would, voice hushed and embarrassed and demanding that Ju Qingsong shut up. Rong Qingsheng just continues to stare, his glazed ceramic dish held tightly between his fingers.

Ju Qingsong bites his lip, and turns his attention to the small bit of wine that’s still left in the bottom of his cup.

He swirls the liquid around with slight, careful movements, and something in his chest tightens slightly. He can feel the corners of his mouth start to ache, like keeping the ever-present smile on his face has become something of a chore instead of the easy habit it usually is.

He opens his mouth to speak, and then pauses. He raises his cup and downs the last of his wine, licking away the residue from his lips before setting the dish on the table behind him.

“I’m going to go see how Liu-shixiong is holding up,” he says.

He watches how his friend nods, absently, attention still caught by the pretty picture that Shang Qinghua and Shen Qingqiu make together as they wallflower, and fights against letting his shoulders tense up in the way that they’d like to.

Ju Qingsong pushes off the table and steps into the crowd. Liu Qingge is likely to have even better alcohol, and Ju Qingsong feels like he might need some of that, tonight.

Rong Qingsheng turns to stare after him, a slight frown decorating his features, lips turned down, but he’s already gone.

#svsss prompts #peak lord ocs #Cang Qiong peak lords #Shang Qinghua #Shen Qingqiu #cucumberplane #outside perspective #vodkas OCs #Ju Qingsong #Rong Qingsheng #vodka answers #vodkassassin fanfiction #overlordmoth

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goldenfawnwriting · 3 years

Text

Birds of a Feather- pt 7 Hawks fic

Summary: Finch has a big decision to make and isn’t really sure what she wants. Will she choose to fly again? Or keep her normal life.

A/N: My cats are running wild right now and jumping on my keyboard lmao, anyway hope you guys like it!

Warning: a lil bit of angst sprinkled in there.

This was the third time today that Finch had zoned out at her desk and Hawks was beginning to be concerned.

“Finch!”

He called. Her eyes snapped over to him and he gave her a look.

“What are you thinking about?”

He questioned. She looked away shyly and he smirked. She was adorable when she got like that.

“I-I just don’t know what to do.”

His face dropped. He knew she was thinking about the surgery again. He thought she would’ve taken the opportunity immediately but he was wrong. He only hoped she would decide soon so that the commission wouldn’t move on and forget her. After everything he’d been through with the commission this was the only thing he was happy with them about.

He knew she would be amazing at a sidekick. She was alert at all times and could pick up on things he didn’t see immediately. She would be a great scout to fly above the city and pick out anything that looked suspicious with her super power eyesight. He was sure of it.

“Well, you already know what I think love. I think you’re overthinking it.”

He leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms, throwing his legs up on the desk top. Finch gave him a disapproving look before turning to her computer an starting to type.

“It’s just not that easy.”

“What do you mean Finch? You tell me all the time you would kill to fly and now that you’re being given the opportunity on a silver platter you don't want it?”

She was quick to respond, a bit offended.

“That’s not the issue Hawks, see you don’t understand at all.”

Hawks rolled his eyes from his spot across the room and groaned loudly as if to mock her.

“Hawks you’ve been great at your job since day one. Imagine someone coming along and saying hey we want you to do a different job that you have no experience with, all while recovering from a huge surgery and figuring out how to live your life all over again. How would that make you feel? I’ve been comfortable in my life for years now and you want me to flip it upside down?”

Hawks shrugged but gave it thought.

“I mean didn’t you do the same thing when you took the job being my personal assistant? You didn’t know anything about how or what to do you just learned along the way. Life is full of hardships Lovebird, but you have to deal with them in order to grow as a person.”

He paused before continuing.

“Imagine this, you fix your wings, become a sidekick for me, maybe even your own hero, eh? You save countless lives doing your job, instead of sending boring emails to other office workers who are all depressed and tired. You could be making a real difference out in the world instead of getting carpal tunnel and back issues.”

She could really feel his dislike for office jobs right then. She huffed as she shuffled the papers on her desk and grabbed the whiteout from her drawer.

“Im just saying, some people are built for certain jobs. I don’t know if hero work is really my niche...”

She trailed off as she fixed the hours on the students’ intern logs.

“You need to sign these by the way. You can’t tell me I’m not good at my job Hawks. You’re good at yours and I’m good at mine y’know...”

“Finch, babe, honey, sweetie,”

He started, coming over to where she was sitting to lean uncomfortably close to her as she put x’s where he needed to sign.

“If you never do anything scary in life you’ll never gain new skills or grow as a person. You have to shake it up sometimes.”

“Hawks this isn’t really a- sign there too- shake it up kind of thing. We’re talking huge surgery- and there.”

He huffed as he scribbled out his signature in different places before she threw them all into a manila folder labeled ‘STUDENT INTERN FORMS’ before she spun her chair around towards him to look him in the eye.

“Put yourself in my place for just a moment.”

“No, Finch I get it, it’s just you could be passing up something that could change your life and make it ten times better!”

He reasoned. She sighed and averted her eyes before he tilted her chin up with his finger, forcing her to look at him.

“Don’t let this be the biggest regret in your life all because you’re a little nervous about the details.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead before turning and making his way to the window.

“Anyway, I’m off to patrol, see ya baby bird~”

He purred before taking off. She was learning to resent the jealous pang in her chest when he did that. That could be her, she thought, sighing afterwards. She just didn’t know. What if she wasn’t any good at the hero thing? What if people died because of her messing up somehow? Would she be saving more lives staying at her office job compared to becoming a hero?

They were all questions she couldn’t answer as she sat back in her chair, slouching lazily. She just didn’t know, and the stress of figuring it out was killing her. Plus she didn’t even get to tell Hawks how she really felt, she kept pushing it off. But was now the right time? Would it mess up the dynamic they had? If she told him would it ruin the sidekick deal she was being offered?

The phone interrupted her with it’s shrill ringtone and she quickly picked it up.

“Pro hero Hawks’ office, this is his secretary Finch, how may I help you?”

“Kore!”

She jumped in surprise at Asami’s voice.

“Asami? You know you shouldn’t be calling me at work!”

She scolded. Asami giggled on the other side of the line.

“I was just calling to remind you to take a break and come get lunch with mee~”

She drew out the end and Finch sighed, rubbing her temples. Maybe she did need a little break, she wondered, biting her lip.

“Where were you wanting to meet?”

Sami hummed on the other end for the line before replying.

“Wanna just go to the hibachi down the road? Or sushi?”

“It’s all vegetables for me anyway Asami, it doesn’t matter.”

“Then sushi!”

She hung up the phone and Finch turned, clicking the phone to transfer any calls to her personal phone. Grabbing up her notebook, detailing Hawks’ to-do list, she made her way down and to the small sushi place a couple blocks down. When she finally neared it she waved to Asami, who was standing outside.

“Hey birdie! Long time no see!”

Finch giggled as Asami lead her inside. Once they were seated she spilled about the stress of trying to make a decision. Asami paused before replying.

“If you want my personal opinion, I think you should go for it. It’s a once in a lifetime opportunity you may never get again Kore. And besides that, think about the monetary benefits. You’d live comfortably for the rest of your life.”

“Y’know it’s a serious surgery Asami-”

“But what will you lose? If it doesn’t work it doesn’t change what you have now, you’ll still be the same. There aren’t any negative consequences.”

Finch looked off before changing the subject.

“So what do I do about telling him my feelings then? what if he doesn’t want me to be a sidekick anymore? Or what if he fires me from the company completely?”

“Then don’t tell him. I mean, I think you should, you never know how he feels, but at the same time, it’s kinda risky now huh? Maybe you should put it off for a little longer.”

They were quiet the rest of lunch before Finch had to return to the agency, finally sitting down at her desk and slipping off her heels. She only wanted a moment of comfort before she slipped them back on, just a little break. As she replied to emails she made her mind up and when Keigo finally flew back through the window she was nearly busting at the seams. It was nearly sunset now, she had stayed after the end of the day jus to see him and tell him before she changed her mind.

“H-hawks!”

“Uh, hey lovebird, I didn’t think you’d be here so late.”

He greeted unenthusiastically. He seemed really tired.

“Uh... I just wanted to let you know I made up my mind..”

She blushed hotly and wrung her wrists. She should’ve just gone home and let him rest, it could’ve waited until tomorrow, she wasn’t so important that he couldn’t relax.

“You did?”

It was obvious he was trying to contain his hope. He was so excited and was hoping she’d tell him what he wanted to hear.

“Ya uh.. I’m gonna do it.”

She was immediately swept up into his arms, being swung back and forth as he hugged her. She squealed, her arms pinned to her sides by his strong biceps.

“M-Mister Hawks!”

He finally set her down, holding her at arms length and speaking fast.

“Oh my gosh, Finch you just made my night, I’ll let them know, I just have to call them!”

She tried to catch her breath from laughing at him, smoothing out her blouse.

“Ok, ok bird man, calm down...”

She grabbed her things and started making her way out to go home before she looked back over her shoulder at him.

“But just do you know I’m doing this for me ok? Not because you convinced me.”

She turned to go home then, making her way to the elevators. She didn’t want him to think she was only doing this because he had hounded her.

#hawks #keigo takami #bnha keigo #bnha hawks #bnha #mha hawks #mha

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