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#no thoughts only rex on the mind
rexscanonwife · 6 months
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Well it's official rex still makes me blush and giggle and twirl my hair like always
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lazinesswrites · 8 months
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Some 'CrossRex' for WIP Wednesday?
Yup! Here you go - this now lead right up to the next big chunk I've already written, and then after that should be the actual smut part of this not-very-smutty-after-all fic! Heh, we'll see how that goes.
“I’m well aware,” Crosshair says, and he’s finally turned to face Rex, but Rex can’t quite read his expression—well, it’s angry, but in the way that Rex is pretty sure is a mask for something else, he just doesn’t know what that is. Something vulnerable, he thinks. “You haven’t exactly been asking for a repeat performance before now.”
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cabdane · 2 years
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the day star wars fans realize the inhibitor chips are a metaphor for propaganda is the day i will know peace
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dragon-ascent · 2 months
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Rex Lapis wants to devour you, so you prepare yourself accordingly.
You sigh, tugging at the stray threads on your hemp tunic. Never would you have thought such a day would arrive - but your god is a dragon, after all. You should consider it an honor he desires to have you for dinner tonight.
Tightening the rope around your waist, you pause. Actually, should you even be wearing any clothes at all? Wouldn't that make it inconvenient while he's eating you? Or perhaps the fabric adds a zing of extra flavour, who knows.
Or maybe he'd like to undress you himself while he dines.
Taking a look at yourself in the reflection of your water bowl, another thought crosses your mind - should you season yourself? Rub some spicy pastes all over? Rex Lapis didn't say anything about that, only that he wanted you for dinner. So before you can overthink it further, you make your way to the elaborate den the deity resides in.
The lofty dragon, coiled up at rest, perks up when he catches sight of you making your way to him. His eyes shimmer with excitement, and his long whiskers seem to have a mind of their own as they dance about. He eagerly leads you further inside, mentioning how he has been looking forward to tonight.
Now that you're here, you're starting to get cold feet - but it's too late to turn back or do anything about it. His dinner table - your chopping block, ostensibly - lies in wait.
Upon the stone table is a wide array of dishes - rice, pastes, breads, pickled and fermented vegetables, some broths... wow, this dragon certainly intends to make a feast out of you, huh?
Gulping, you pensively ask, "Will it hurt? Or will you kill me first and then eat? I don't want to die painfully..."
Rex Lapis, taken aback, nearly knocks over a decorative plant when he turns to you. "Whatever are you alluding to?" he asks, lowering his head so his gaze is level with yours.
You blink. "You...said you wanted me for dinner."
There's a long pause within which an entire generation could live and die. Then, Rex Lapis speaks.
"My dear, when I said I wished to have you for dinner, I meant as a guest."
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tarjapearce · 7 months
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Laus Be
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WARNINGS: SMUT. Double cock Demon Miguel, Not proofreaded, Mild dub-con, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.
A/N: I'm high af on Advil and had to take this out of my system before I forgot. And yeah jskjs. Probably comes out as crack fic jsksj.
[Laus Be - Praised Be]
Summary: A cult offers you as a tribute to the Demon King himself ~
Viscous crimson liquid rolled off your chin as you were forced the goblet on your lips. Some of its remnants seeping and sliding down your throat.
The chants of cloaked figure around you intensified as they prepared their sacrificial lamb for slaughter. You.
They had not only kidnapped and kept you in the shadows for a while, depriving you from external stimuli that could soil what they had in hand.
Silence had turned your biggest company in the dark, stony, fusty and humid cell, you were being fed with selected things. And no matter how much you begged, they never released you.
You didn't know them, neither their faces, as them remained perpetually obscured by the cloaks. The only indicator they were human was the fresh smell of charred flesh in the back of their palms. A skull like spider symbol  burned and forever marked into their skin.
You were kept in the dark until now. Everyone spoke in a foreign language you've never heard before.
One of them dragged you away from the  twisted comfort your cell provided you, another group, bathed you in such delicate oils and perfumes, a common practice among the royals, and finally donned in nothing but a white silky and lace robe.
Then you were taken to another room, more like dragged, a golden chalice brought to you. The sickly sweet smelling concoction stared directly at you, but naturally, you refused.
Do not ever accept a drink from a stranger.
Wise words from your old man came into mind, but the wistful thought was shaken away as the liquid was forced down on your throat. Some droplets staining your angelic appearance. Their cloaked leader seemed annoyed you had ruined the immaculate purity your dress limned.
But it mattered not. Not when you were guided to a different room. A room that immediately lit on its own, revealing several pentagrams carved on the floor and walls. Candles melted, but they seemed perpetually alight, neverending incandescence illuminating and warming the room.
An appalling contrast from your cell, from the place in general. There was no windows, not a glimpse of anything that could dictate you who reigned over the skies. Day or night. Your sense of time had been so warped you couldn't even tell how many days your stance in this place had been.
Your eyes felt heavy, droopy and your body shivered. The perkiness of your breast peeking through the silky and soiled gown. One of the cloaked figures pulled you inside the outer circles of the first pentagram.
The contact of their skin made you whimper. You didn't know what had came over you, but certainly that sweet drink you were forced down a little ago, had everything to do with it.
The gates closed behind you, as the mystery people surrounded you. All of them kneeled as their voices united in an ancient chant.
Your mouth panted as they repeated the chant.
Laus be, Rex tuus [Praised be, Our King]
Your heart thumped harder, as your temperature increased. Heat and fear spreading through your body as the circles of the pentagrams begun buzzing with dark energy, soaring into life.
The chants increased, and so the smoldering heat between your legs.
An Aphrodisiac?
You didn't know not cared. The only thing in your mind was to run, as fiery red eyes emerged from the dark mist that disippated into tangible black spiders. Spiders that approached to you in a freakish speed.
Egredere de requiem tuam!
[Rise from your slumber]
You fell on your knees. The presence of the emerging entity had your insides cry in sheer need. Your body was rioting against all rational thought. Need clawed and begged to be acknowledged, but fear clung so hard you tried in crawling away, only for a hand to reach for your ankle and drag you back.
"No!"
You whimpered as the spiders crawled on you, panic rose at seeing them jumping all over your body, you tried to shake them off in your haste, but a low growl made you still. Deliciously low and dangerous. Your heart and clit pulsed.
No, no, no! Run!
The little crawlers hopped on your body again, to your shock, they melded together, taking the shape of hands that were now caressing whatever exposed piece of skin you had as other tugged and tore at the ceremonial robe, forcing you deeper in the pentagram circles, right before the demon.
Palms brushed on your bare body, by instinct you tried to cover up, a pair of hands stopped you. Black mist hands held your arms above you, wrist together as the rest proded at your outer folds, squeezed your breast together, pinched your nipples, kneaded your hips and ass.
"S-Stop!" You mouth lied and the demon before you smirked. His sharp and well sculpted factions revealed to you. Despite the horns attached to his forehead, he was as beautiful as terrifying. Sharp teeth shone when he plunged his big thumb inside your lips, toying with your warmth and moist tongue.
"Don't fight it"
Raspy and underwordly voice echoed through the walls
The summoned hands ventured a couple of fingers inside your now soaked hole. Your eyes drooped even further. A debauched expression coming through your flushed face. You licked his thumb, and engulfed it with closed eyes as the fingers slid in and out of you.
"Surrender to me"
He growled as another finger stretched your squelching and pulsating cunt. His thumb twirled against your tongue as his body took it's final shape. Broad and well sculpted torso, narrow waist with a sight that made you clench around his fingers and your mouth water. Hard and proud cocks, adorned with thick veins, a happy trail decorating the above.
The chants never stopped, but it didn't matter. You were focused on his deep and alluring voice that called you into the depths of depravity where he came from. You were a sacrifice offered for him to devour.
Pushed on your knees and crawling to him, whimpering as his fingers slid faster out of you, edging you to your first demise.
His clawed hand took gently your chin, holding it open as his other hand took one of his hefty cocks and fed you the tip, you immediately took a hold of the other one, stroking your hand on it. All inhibitions gone as your mouth worked  him. He tasted rich, tangy and so addictive. He cackled at your shameless cock worship. Both mouth and hand wet and warm.
Your tongue was desperate to taste every inch of him, your eyes glowed in the same red hue. Your strokes on his second cock went faster, nearly fisting him between a tight grip. He hummed in approval
"So eager to please" He grunted and pushed deeper inside you, the stretch in your jaw was worth the pain as he slid in and out of your plump mouth. His hand bobbed your head on his length, coating him with a mix of your saliva and his pre cum.
You gagged but he pushed you as deeper as he could, holding your head still as his hips rammed on your lips, Your nose nuzzling and inhaling his musky and tantalizing scent that not only sent your senses in a stronger riot. He growled as your throat muscles clamped around him, tightly, just like your hand.
"Wonder if it's as tight between your thighs"
He rasped with a grunt and thrusted a few more times before releasing your head. A thick thread of his cum connecting your lips with his tip. You gasped, mouth gaping as the soft and wet noises kept coming from his soaked fingers. Your need to hold onto something only increased as your hips moved on their own, sinking deeper ontop of them.
"Pl... Please!" You mewled in between breathless pants. Your flesh soaked and quivered under his ministrations, imploring to be taken
"Are you begging to be destroyed, little one? Is that what you want?"
You nodded and his sharp fangs came into view as a wicked smile stretched in his meaty lips.
"So be it."
You mewled once more as he pulled his summoned fingers away from your slit, snake like tongue curling around them, taking a taste of you. He growled and pushed you to the floor.
Summoned hands immediately taking a hold of your body, spreading your legs for him to take in the sight of you. His lips were brought into sight as he approached your puffed and drenched cunt.
Slimy and amphibious like tongue slid between shivering folds, to then push in inside you. Clawed hands brought your hips against his mouth. Your hands clenched in tight fists at the pressure
His slithering and coiling tongue made you scream at the overwhelming sensation of him instigating your orgasm. His tongue was a bully, just as his hands that toyed with your clit and butthole.
Your nipples, engorged by the constant pinching and pulling. Toes curled in as you came into his mouth. As he left you, your insides felt empty, in dire need to be filled again.
One would think after such ministration the effects of the lust would tame down, but since the chant of the cloaked figures never stopped, your lust didn't subsided either. It only burned with such intensity you were growing to fear.
The handsome devil positioned himself between your legs, his sprung cocks twitched, ready to be plunged. The summoned hands folded you in half, exposing your holes to him.
The fist one rubbed in between your folds, coating it even further in your slick as the other one poked at your second tight hole.
"Oh God!" You cried as he stretched tortuously slow both of your holes at the same time, only to end up in a powerful plow as you mentioned 'god'.
He growled as his hand squeezed your neck, dangerously tight. Your arms restrained above you
"You'll see what a real god , feels like, wench"
Your spine arched as his hips began moving. To say you felt full was a measly thing compared to how your body was being used. Your lower belly bulged everytime he slid in, he pulled out only to plow deeper. Your skin shook by the rough display of power.
The hands that kept feeding your delusional debauchery, held you in place. The room was filled with your breathless and unceasing pleas and needy cries. A lot of 'Yes!' along with 'It hurts so good' and more 'use me!'
Your hips felt like breaking by the hefty weight of his own as they slapped against yours. Your senses were drowning in the sensorial overload he slowly put you through.
Skin burned, your nose kept smelling him, sweet and musky, adding to your already overwhelmed arousal, His taste reminiscing on your tongue, Your eyes locked in his cocks and how these disappeared into you, taking you to a new level of pleasure you'd never thought reaching. And hearing his growls everytime you clenched around him made you reach your second orgasm right away, despite him just starting using you.
"Pathetic" He sneered
His thrust increased in strength, making you spill out broken pleas and incoherent mumblings. The rough friction felt like nirvana itself. Overstimulation was devastatingly delicious.
Hands turned your convulsing form down. Chest flat against the floor, your arms were restrained behind your back by his demonic hand, and your plump ass, up, awaiting to be ruined.
You took a look at the hooded figures, none of them were looking, but they kept kneeling and chanting like their lives depended on it.
The new stretch on both your holes made your eyes roll back and your jaw to slack.
An array of lewd curses flew out your moaning mouth. His cocks fought for which hole came first. Your sobs choked and were replaced by mild grunts and screams as your body lurched forward at the force his god like body exerted on you.
Bot of your holes were shaped into his girths, stretching and welcoming him despite their continuous bullying.
The back of your thighs tainted red by the rough slaps and thrusts.
Another orgasm for you. Both holes clamped and creamed around him, his cue for giving you a little break that didn't last much as he laid on his back and sheathed you ontop, earning a weakened and shivering scream from you.
"I can't!" The hands held you again, helping your hips to move up and down as they spreaded yours ontop of his thighs.
A frown came into his face, with a swift movement of his hands, he made the summoned limbs to sheathe you faster and rougher. Your slick rolling down his thighs. His hand pulled your hair down as you wailed like a banshee in need.
As much as you wanted to close your legs, it was impossible. Pleasure turned borderline painful as his other hand squeezed your throat. The asphyxia only increased the brain splitting sensations.
The demon king only laughed with sultry mockery at your state. He wasn't even half satisfied, and you were already losing your mind.
What was it? Four? five? The clenching and sobbing from you just confirmed the fifth one.
"Giving up so soon?"
This time, he cradled you into his arms and summoned a throne. A throne where he'd sit down and sunk you once more ontop of him.
You shook your head vehemently, trying to get away. Your arms were numb behind your back. Both holes deliciously stretched, empty and a tired face Miguel still found amusing and endearing as to how you reacted.
He was holding back after the third orgasm. Humans felt always welcoming. But you, you felt heavenly.
So tight and delicious. A need he had to sate every year. The past tributes were outright awful. You had been  entertaining him for quite a while now.
His free hand cupped your cheek before his lips crashed onto yours. He moved his hips in a slow motion, trying to give your raving a pause as he took his time in exploring your mouth with his own and his tongue.
Your moist muscle opposed little at the slithering and coiling one that had you breathless in matter of seconds. Your body glistened in sweat. Hair strands etched to your neck, super back and cheeks. Flushed flesh and a dumb gone look that made you even more worthy to look at.
He had ruined you. And it was time to reward your outlasting.
His lips let you go and his hips began moving once more. You couldn't even utter a proper word. Voice hoarse and raspy. Mouth dry.
As he kept pounding and relishing your broken body, you couldn't help but collide against his chest and arch your back, creaming at the base of his first cock as your ass squeezed his second
He took a fistful of your front strands and seized your face as pleasure flooded your senses once more.
"Eyes on me, wench"
Miguel commanded despite your obvious struggle to remain conscious. His pace increased and so did your panting.
Breast bounced mercilessly at his rutting, his lips came closer to yours, you moaned into each other's mouths, before his moved to your neck.
He whispered and groaned things in that ancient language before kissing your tender flesh and biting with his fangs. Marking you as you came with a weakened yelp.
His hand let your arms go to then secure you in a tight embrace while growling and plowing deep enough to have thick spurts of his seed painting your tight and sore walls.
You had achieved what no other lamb had. You had appeased him.
For now.
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avocad1s · 1 month
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Requests are open and the latest sparked some ideas so…
Imagine the reader not having specific favorites, but more groups favorites, like a reader that’s a big fan of the Knights of Favonious or The Akademiya
Note: KoF, Adepti, Akademiya, Fatui, and the Abyss mentioned with some small snippets from characters in those groups. But all of them have a small overview of how they view your favoritism over them.
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The Knights Of Favonius are pretty humble unlike the other nations. Although they may be criticized by a certain tavern owner, even he won’t question your favor towards the Knights (openly). Having your favor feels like a blessing from the Anemo Archon, many of them even believe that handling the stormterror incident themselves made them win your favor.
Although he isn’t around currently, daddy I mean— Varka feels a sense of pride knowing he left the wellbeing in Mondstadt in good hands. He is looking forward to finally meeting you once he returns. Jean constantly overworks herself, but she’s knows that it’s worth it if she can keep your favor. Mondstadt might seem “inadequate” when compared to other nations when it comes to where you should stay but Jean will make sure you’re never uncomfortable.
When it comes to your comfort, Jean would turn to Diluc, he may not be apart of the Knights but he does own the Dawn Winery and everyone knows you’ll enjoy staying there. Outrider Amber will make it her responsibility to guide you to the heart of Mondstadt and back to Dawn Winery during your entire stay. She’ll teach you how to glide! Just be sure not to mention that to anyone else… some might be upset that she could’ve put you in danger.
Speaking of danger, Klee adores being able to play with you! She will take you fish blasting! Yes it can be a bit dangerous but it’s fun! However once someone realizes that Klee and Their Grace hasn’t been seen in a while, they begin to panic. Usually Albedo, Kaeya or Rosaria are the ones to find you first, then the fun is over. (Klee may or may not get solitary confinement 💀)
Kaeya is a smooth talker and very charismatic that it’s difficult to discern just how flustered he’ll get in your presence. He’ll use his good talking skills to get you to himself, usually inviting you out to Good Hunter or even for a drink (if you’re a drinker) but being in your presence and knowing that he is apart of the group you openly favor over anyone else in Teyvat makes him tremble. Although in front of you he’ll just give a simple smile and charm you with his flattery.
———
Oh the Adepti are so respectful towards you. I mean, they served directly under Rex Lapis for centuries. They do not allow mortals to disrespect Rex Lapis, I’d be surprised if they even let anyone have a thought that could be considered disrespectful towards you. They feel a sense of pride knowing that they are your favorite. However unlike the others, they aren’t too vocal about it.
Sharing tea with you is by far their favorite thing to do. Inviting you to Jueyun Karst to enjoy the finest of tea and meals while reminiscing about Liyue’s past is something they all always wanted. During the Archon war, while they all fought for Rex Lapis, everything was still in your name. So now that Teyvat is at peace, (for now) they just want to enjoy an eternity with you.
Xiao is usually the one who tries to stay away from you. It’s not that he doesn’t want to be around, far from it, but in his mind he feels as if he’s only useful to you if you’re in danger. When you spend time with the adepti he is unsure if he should come. Would you even want him there? But the second he hears you call his name, he’ll appear no matter what. Prepared to face any danger you might be in… but there’s none. In fact it’s just you, Cloud Retainer, Moon Carver, Mountain Shaper, and Ganyu. Xiao would remove his mask and place down his polearm silently enjoying his time in your presence.
Xianyun who has just recently began visiting Liyue Harbor in her human form again is definitely most open when it comes to you. Spending all her mora to buy things she knows you’ll like (and getting scammed) and inviting you to join her and Shenhe for tea. If you’re not in the mood for tea? Why don’t the two of you dissect these new human inventions that managed to capture her interest. How exactly does this machine from Fontaine keep a kite floating?
———
The Akademiya values their wisdom over anything else, and now they have your favor? Well, they’re kinda smug about it, you know? Many of them already believed they were better than the other nations (cough, cough, the Grand Sage) and having you in their corner might just make them a bit more insufferable. Unless it’s after Nahida takes back the reign.
The Akademiya would prefer if you stayed in Sumeru. The second you’re ready to settle down, Kaveh will be the first to approach you, he would be honored to be the architect that builds your palace. Mora is no problem! (Because no one would dare charge mora for Their Grace) No matter, Kaveh is very good at what he does, do you have any preferences when it comes to the construction? Please tell him, he strives to make you happy and show off his skills to you.
The acting grand sage of the Akademiya, Alhaitham enjoys living a comfortable life and is not fond of being in the role of a leader. The second someone worthy comes around, he will resign as the acting grand sage and return to his previous position as the scribe who was never around during working hours. Despite his… unambitious tendencies (only doing what’s necessary), he’ll try when it comes to you. If there is something you desire or some type of knowledge you going through the Akademiya for, he’ll offer his help. Although he can be pretty nonchalant, he does enjoy being in your presence and if your favor towards the Akademiya began after he took on the role as acting grand sage, his ego may swell a bit.
———
As if the Fatui didn’t have enough power across Teyvat already and now you favor them. Her Majesty and the harbingers are extremely grateful of having your favor in their corner, but they are definitely going to exploit this. It’s so easy for them to obtain more and more power in the other nations with the simple use of your name.
However even thought the Fatui can all collectively agree that having your favorite benefits them all, they are still incredibly selfish with their own intentions. The second you enter the Zapolyarny Palace, the harbingers are quickly scheming on ways to get you to themselves.
Pantalone, by far the richest of all the harbingers, will always offer to take you shopping. You’re the Creator! You can have as much jewelry, clothing, and other accessories as you want. Just be sure to follow him before one of the others pull you away.
Arlecchino is fully aware just how… unsettling her true side might be to you. But worry not! If there is one person who can keep her sane, it’s you! Want to see a magic show? Or maybe even an opera? She’ll take you! Cracks of her true personality might show if the others try stealing you away though.
Capitano is truly a legend on the battlefield, no matter how the others feel about him. One thing none of them will never deny is his strength. He holds a sense of righteousness that some (one puppet in particular) criticize. But his righteousness shines through with you. If you show any interest in learning to fight, he would be honored to teach you. Or maybe you already have incredible abilities, you are the God of Gods, he would love to test his strength against yours. No matter who wins, he’s willing to go again and again… just don’t go to a certain ginger asking for a sparring match.
Pierro, the first to be betrayed by the Seven when they destroyed his home. Many would think he would hold some type of resentment towards you, but he doesn’t. He is the director of the harbingers and they listen to his orders (usually coming from the Tsaritsa) so when you visit Snezhnaya he is usually the one to assign one of the harbingers to look after you. However he’s not afraid to use his power so he can be the one to look after you. Much to the other’s dismay.
———
You favor… The Abyss? Sorry, I need to rub my eyes and read that again.
No one understands your favoritism towards the Abyss. “They hate humanity Your Grace… Perhaps you should stay away from them?” Is what you hear all the time. But no one can technically force you to stay away… not to mention no one really knows what the Abyss actually is.
Very few know of the leader of the Abyss, the Prince/Princess or rather the travelers sibling. They can’t see you as often as they’d like but on the rare occasions they can, they love speaking to you about their plan. Sometimes they’ll even ask you questions about the traveler, curious how their journey of meeting the Seven is going.
Although he is not apart of the Abyss, at least not anymore. Even Dainsleif wonders what about the Abyss is appealing to you. Even if you do not know it, he’ll be sure to keep an eye on you just in case anyone or anything tries to harm you.
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Note: While I was writing this and reading about some of the harbingers personalities on the fandom wiki, I might have accidentally gave myself a crush on Capitano 💀 I just know he is fine under that mask.
© avocad1s 2024
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woso-dreamzzz · 2 months
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Torn II
Kewis x Child!Reader
Summary: Being sick is never fun
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With Mommy now playing for West Ham, it means you get to hang out with Harper.
Harper's not as rough as you and Mommy always has to remind you not to be so rough with your playing in case you both get hurt. Harper doesn't seem to mind though because she always gives you a little kiss hello and goodbye at the end of the day.
Harper's mommy Mini tries to stop her a few days ago because she caught an illness from kindie but she wasn't quick enough.
"No," Your Mommy says firmly when you lean in to kiss Harper's cheek too," Harper's sick remember?"
You grumble a little bit but don't argue, content with just being allowed to hold Harper's hand in yours as you all troop out to the cars. You wave goodbye to her as Mommy bundles you into your car seat.
Mom is already at home when you get there and you try to run off to greet her but Mommy snags you by the back of your shirt.
"Remember," She says," Slow and careful."
You huff but nod, moving slowly like you're a T-Rex stalking its prey.
Mom smiles at you. "Come on, Chook," She cajoles," You can move faster than that."
You snap into action faster than Mommy can stop you and you crash into her.
Mom laughs and lifts you up.
You whine a little wiggling away and she frowns.
She lifts up your shirt and sighs. "Did you fall again today, Chook?"
"Was playing with Harper!" You reply," Was only a little fall!"
"Well, that's not a little bruise. Kristie! Can you chuck me the bruise cream? Chook's got herself hurt again!"
"Doesn't hurt," You deny. You try to squirm away but Mom lathers cream all down your side. You stop fighting a little quicker than usual though because out of nowhere your head starts aching.
Mom adjusts her positioning so her knee is properly stretched out as Mommy comes to sit down on your other side, letting you sip from her drink.
You grow bored of hanging out with your moms though and squirm out of your seat to go and find Helen and your dinosaurs.
Your head starts pounding on and off for the rest of the day and you push your food around your plate even if it's one of your favourites.
Mommy tries to change you into your Spinosaurus onesie but it's much too hot for you and you keep pulling the zip down no matter how many times Mommy pulls it back up again.
In the end, Mom makes Mommy change you into pyjamas that you only really wear when it's stupidly hot but they're still dinosaur themed so you like them.
"Stop touching it," Mommy says sternly when she notices you poking your bruise.
You don't understand why she gets so annoyed. Bruises are super cool and this one has gone a really dark purple colour. Mommy gets worried when bruises are like that so you stop poking and prodding at it even though Mom's laughing at it all.
Your nose feels kind of runny and you swipe at it before Mommy can see.
Mommy worries a lot. She worries even more now that Mom hurt her knee so you go to bed without telling her about your achy head, your runny nose and your scratchy throat.
Tomorrow's her day off anyway so it's meant to be the day that Mommy can relax.
That's why when you wake up the day after feeling so much worse than before, you don't tell anyone.
You sit in your play corner where you can keep an eye on Mom and play with your dinosaurs. Helen mews softly as she approaches, headbutting you in the arm before sitting down next to you.
You tickle her behind the ears but your arm feels a bit heavy and you drop it to the ground. Your other arm feels heavy so you stop playing with it too.
In the end, you just sit facing the wall, staring at your dinosaurs and making up a story in your head.
Sam narrows her eyes as she watches you, staring. You don't move for a long while and if it wasn't for the small rise and a fall of your shoulders, she'd have thought that you'd fallen asleep then and there.
You're being a little strange today. You hadn't woken up early like you usually did on days off. You hadn't come running in demanding someone play with you outside or squirmed away when Kristie inspected your bruise at breakfast.
It was out of character for you and Sam can do nothing but stare as Kristie blows out her nose next to her. She must have caught something off Mini at practice.
Sam knew Harper had been ill recently and it all begins to make sense.
Everything happens at once. Your bad behaviour suddenly has an explanation just as you convulse suddenly in your play corner.
Helen meows loudly, jumping up and running away as the sound of something wet hits the carpet.
You burst into tears.
Sam stands up too quickly and falls back onto the sofa as her knee radiates pain in protest.
Kristie surges up too, perhaps too fast as well because her head throbs but she's really the only uninjured person in the house.
You've thrown up all over the carpet and your favourite dinosaurs. It runs down your chin and you sob.
"Oh, Chook," Sam says, stubbornly getting up again and reaching for her crutches," It's okay. Don't cry."
Kristie makes quick work of taking your top off and then your bottoms even though her own medicine hasn't kicked in yet and her head still aches like hell. You've clearly gotten the worst version of this sickness.
You just sob harder, blabbing and gagging when you realise that you've got the same taste of sick in your mouth. "No, no," You say when Mommy begins to walk you into the bathroom, "Mom-Mom...Her knee hurts."
"I think you're the priority here, Chook," Mommy says but you shake your head as she pops you into the bath and turns on the taps," Mom's a big girl. She can take care of her own knee right now."
"No...No! You help Mom's knee! I'm not sick! Was an accident!"
Mommy just hums as she gently washes your face with a flannel.
Mom pops her head in through the door.
"I've got medicine for her and her Stegosaurus towel."
Mommy takes it. "Go and sit down, Sam," She orders," Take some painkillers and ice your knee."
"I'll clean up the sick first."
"I'll do it," Mommy insists. She plucks you out of the bath and puts your towel over your head. It's a bit like your onesie where it's got a hood that makes you actually look like a stegosaurus. You really love it but today you couldn't care less.
Mommy flips the hood up and you gag again.
You're moved quickly over the toilet and you throw up inside of it.
Tears prick in your eyes when you notice Mom still standing there. She goes to reach for you, to bend her knee but Mommy blocks her way.
"Go, Sam," She says," Go to bed and ice your knee. You're not any use to me right now. I'll send Chook to you once she's ready." She takes the medicine from Mom's hand and all but pushes her out the door.
"Sorry, Mommy," You say through your tears," Didn't mean to."
Mommy softens considerably from when she was dealing with Mom and she rubs your back as you weakly gag over the toilet bowl and nothing but bile comes up.
"Don't say sorry, Chook," She says to you," This isn't your fault. It's just bad timing is all, no one's angry."
"You were angry at Mom," You say, crying much harder than before," 'S your day off. You have to look after Mom. Sorry I made it harder."
Kristie's own nose is blocked and stuffy and her head pounds in agony (although she knows the medicine should start kicking in soon) but she still draws you in for a hug as you sob on her shoulder.
"It's okay, Chook," She coos even as you apologise over and over again," It's all okay. You're being brave. You're so good. You're such a good girl."
"I'm sorry!"
"Hey," Mommy says as she pulls away, gently wiping away your tears," You have nothing to be sorry about." She spoons the medicine Mom brought into your mouth. "Why don't you head on to bed with Mom? I'll be there in a little while."
You sniffle. "I can clean."
"No, Chook. You're very sick, like Harper was. And Harper's mommies didn't make her clean up, did they?"
You shake your head.
"Then you don't have to clean up either. Go on, go to bed with Mom."
You shuffle into Mom and Mommy's bedroom. Mom's got the tv on and a bag of ice pressed against her knee.
"Hey, Chook," She says when you come in, leaning down to lift you up.
"Sorry that you hurt your knee more, Mom," You whisper, knocking your head against her collarbone. You stay slumped on top of her as she gently works her fingers through the knots in your hair.
"It wasn't your fault. Accidents happen. I'm sorry you're feeling so sick."
Sam reaches to the side and drapes your favourite blanket over you. It's got little images of Mosarsaurus and Baryonyx on it and you go limp when she tucks it around you.
"Hey," Kristie says softly from the doorway.
"Hey..."
"I'm sorry," She continues," For yelling at you like that, in the bathroom. It was all..."
"Overwhelming, yeah, I know." Sam keeps gently stroking your hair as you sleepily puff out air against her collarbone. "I want to be more help, Kristie, I do-"
"Your knee won't let you, Sam. Don't beat yourself up about it. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that. We're all trying our best here."
"But you're sick too. It's not fair that you have to take care of all of us."
"I'm barely sick. It's just a headache and a runny nose. I'll survive. What we need to work on is getting Chook to tell us when she's feeling sick, okay? We were caught off guard today. It won't happen again."
"Mommy," You say softly," My tummy hurts again."
Kristie sighs though she's smiling when she does it and lifts you easily into her arms. She doesn't get very far though when you're tummy has had enough and you throw up all over Sam's chest and your front.
She sighs. "If you get me a bin bag to cover my knee with, I'll hop in the bath with her."
"I'll get the Pterodactyl towel out of the dryer."
"It's a Pteranodon," You sniffle," Not a Pterodactyl."
Mom strips out of her shirt and takes you from Mommy.
"Sorry, Chook. Pteranodon, then."
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taxidermymuskrat · 2 years
Text
Don't mind me--just about to do some thinking out loud about Umbara
Before I actually watched the umbara episodes, just from hearing about them I didn’t think Krell was going to be such a blatant “bad guy.” I do realize tcw is meant for kids & sometimes the bad guys really are just 100% evil, I just expected him to be less… aware that what he was doing was bad. Like I was expecting him to be the type of villain who thought they were doing the right thing, so I was surprised when he had his whole speech about doing it all just “because I can.”
ok so spparently I had more thinking to do about this than I realized when I started writing this post
I suppose his thing of “you’ve all been my pawns” is a good parallel to Sidious’ grand scheme of orchestrating the entire war. Krell’s clone-killing fixation didn’t make any sense to me though. It’s just weird to me that someone who, as far as I know, was raised as a Jedi would do what he did pre-meditated, as he admits when he is captured. Although there is that one line of Rex’s where he says “you’re an agent of Dooku” which could possibly imply that Krell was in fact not a Jedi, but then I have no idea how he would’ve been put in charge of any clone battalion. I don’t think that’s what that line actually meant, anyways.
I guess somewhere along the line he just lost faith in the Jedi and decided to throw away everything he was taught his entire life, but I’m still not exactly sure how that leads to readily taking lives so immediately. Then again, we have seen what happens when someone believes they have a justified reason to attack what they believe to be “inferior beings,” in the form of Anakin’s massacre of the Tusken village. I suppose Krell’s justification would be “I’m gonna do everything in my power to undermine the Republic war effort,” and he does not view the clones as people (idk that seems like a pretty big screwup on the part of whoever his master was for not teaching him to value all life equally) so he would have no qualms about getting them killed just to purposefully waste republic “resources” (personnel). Plus he was probably maddened by the dark side in some way so that couldn’t have helped.
So I guess umbara was this deranged man’s desperate attempts to get Dooku to notice him. And that's the end of my rant/brain-thought-goop-dump.
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fridayth13 · 3 months
Note
Could I request Zhongli reuniting with his wife after the two had a falling out 500 years ago?
crushed cor lapis.
↳ zhongli × gn!immortal!artist!reader
↳ part one, part two
↳ genre: soft angst at the beginning, but it's mostly bittersweet | wordcount: 1.6k | warnings: none
↳ notes: i ended up with less angst than i thought i would have. but i did want to explore the thought of time passage and fighting for people who are going to live forever, even if it's subtle; reader is immortal and implied to be an adeptus or a god, but the kind isn't very important; ive had an idea for zhongli and an artist reader for a long time so i tried to combine it i hope you don't mind; as with the gender. i did write with a fem!reader in mind as per the request but in the end, the gender didn't need to be specified for anything so i left it gender neutral; i tried to give reader a more divine disposition about them so the writing ended up really flowery, but in any case i hope you enjoy! i really did have fun writing this one
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You were a painter.
In your old life, as you liked to call it, however, you were a god. Your domain of influence laid in artistry and beauty.
Or rather, that was what Morax used to tell you. Archons like him were the only beings in Teyvat with real domains of influence. But you wouldn't really stop him if that was his way of calling you pretty.
That was about five hundred years ago. Nowadays was a very different story.
You crushed the yellow berries in your mortar and pestle to turn into paint for tomorrow's commission.
You liked your job in Liyue Harbor. As quaint and.. human as it was, you thought there was divinity to be found in the painstaking recreation of the things around you. Though a painting couldn't rival a Kamera in terms of accuracy, you were certain it completely surpassed the device in most other things.
You slowed your movements, surveying the consistency of the paint and the color. That would probably do. You'd collected quite a lot, so you supposed it was time to head back. All you were really lacking earlier was yellow.
And so you trekked on home from the terraces, skipping over stumps of cor lapis and sunset-painted grass along your way.
As you finally reached your home in the harbor, the sun had fully gone down. The lanterns lit, casting the entire city in a soft, warm glow. The neighboring waters reflected the deep blue of the sky and the speckles of rust and gold adorning every building in sight.
You opened your door and you thought of Morax, wondering if he knew five hundred years ago what beauty would settle upon his previously war torn nation. Leaning on the doorframe, you watched over it for a while. Children playing, kites flying, dinner being prepared, laughter and joy running amok.
You don't like to think about him too much, or how his silence is present in every part of the city that was all him, despite having nothing to do with him any longer. No matter how much time had passed, you seemed stuck in the first night he decided not to apologize.
Still, five hundred years was a long time. Although it felt like the blink of an eye, even immortals had to move on eventually.
You gathered your materials inside and closed the door behind you.
The mountains may erode, but they will always be mountains.
You recalled his own words as you saw him again for the first time in five hundred years.
A human-sized Rex Lapis stood before you, hands behind his back, dressed to the nines, pristine, and put together, and perfect, and not at all like he ought to have seemed like at your first meeting in several centuries. Though at the very same time, you couldn't imagine him looking any other way.
You bitterly savored the way he avoided your eyes in front of his boss.
"So this is him!" She said. The lively Director Hu Tao of the local funeral parlor was Rex Lapis's boss. You tried not to laugh. "Our new consultant, Mr. Zhongli."
You set your canvas down onto its easel, then the bulk of your dyes and paints on the floor. You did this without averting your eyes, as if trying to burn him if he ever had the nerve to look back at you.
He did not. And to her credit, it seemed Hu Tao noticed it as well. So as not to make your client too uncomfortable, you decided to take a step towards them.
"Mr. Zhongli." You said. With the proximity you put between you, he had no choice but to look back at you. Not a lot changed about him in human form, but by far, his eyes were the most the same. Down to the hard, intense stare, and the set of his brows. You wondered how many other people in Liyue he'd enchanted with them while he was busy avoiding you.
"Mr. Zhongli?" You repeated, a little less amused. Though you somewhat enjoyed how stupefied he looked at your appearance, you'd endured his silence long enough. "My name is Y/N. It's an honor to meet you here."
This seemed to regain him his senses. That, or Hu Tao's suspicious back and forth glances between the two of you.
Zhongli cleared his throat.
"..The honor is mine."
Hu Tao nodded, seeming satisfied for now. She clapped her hands together in excitement, turning to you.
"Alright! I suppose I'll leave you to it then. I have complete faith that you'll be able to depict the poise and elegance of my esteemed consultant."
You gave her your best half smile.
"Well, I'll try."
"No need to be modest! I've seen your work before. You're one of, if not the best, painter in Liyue. Just ask Mr. Zhongli! He's been very taken with your paintings even before we first met. He speaks very highly of you."
You crossed your arms. "You don't say?"
Five hundred years or the blink of an eye, you could still see his embarrassment without him having to say a word.
Director Hu Tao had business to take care of for the funeral parlor, and so left with a flourish, and a "Make sure to get his good side!" as she ran off.
You both continued to speak as civilians for a little while. He sat down at a table on the porch, a steaming pot of tea on said table between you. Your face was obscured to him through the thick white canvas.
Avoiding conversation was easy, but not. Comfortable, but not. Natural, but not. It shouldn't have been. As such was the nature of a marriage to the Geo Archon, you supposed. Or rather, the current lack thereof. But even that was up in airs.
"How.. How have you been?"
Your responding glare was unseen to him, but he heard it in the vitreous tone of your reply.
"Fine." You said. "Something must've happened to you though. Your eloquence seems to have disappeared into thin air."
"..You are still upset. I see."
"In what world would I be upset, Mr. Zhongli?" Your use of his mortal name created a crease in his brow. You gently brushed over it on his painting.
"I didn't think you'd want to see me."
"You still could've asked." You muttered, momentarily leaning sideways to look him in the eye. "For someone so revered for his wisdom, your brain still seems to be as hard as rocks."
You caught his surprised expression as you turned back to the canvas. You didn't allow him another word.
"Honestly, who ghosts their own spouse after an argument like that? You'd think the best time would be after.. five hours. Five days. Maybe five weeks after. Not five centuries—"
You caught him mumble, "Well, it's not as if you tried to talk to me either."
"I didn't think I needed to. You made it very clear you wanted me to leave you to die in the Archon War all on your heroic lonesome."
When he didn't respond, you snuck a glance.
The sun's rays were at the precipice of turning gold in its descent into the sea. The glow smeared his porcelain cheeks in amber, his eyes in glitter, the metallic components of his suit in light. He looked like a monument. Tall, statuesque, and lonely. Almost like his mountainous true form. More beautiful than even his numerous statues across Liyue could capture. More than you could capture. Though you did certainly try.
Annoyed and angrily pining as you were, you still tried to get his eyes right. The little flecks of rust against gold. Like cuts of cor lapis crushed to shimmering powder in the Archon's hand. A man of his own making.
You looked at Zhongli as the golden hour faded, slowly turning dusky pink. His eyes swam in wistfulness as he stared out at the harbor. You couldn't help the dull twinge of sorrow deep in the pit of your stomach.
"I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry."
You didn't know how to follow up. You weren't entirely sure what you were apologizing for. But it felt nice to hear it back from him.
When he finally looked back at you, you were tracing the rich scarlet of his eyeliner onto the canvas.
At some point, he turned on the lamp and set it down beside you while you worked on the finishing touches.
"You're better than I remember." He whispered like he thought you couldn't hear him.
You weren't sure what to say to that either. You just kept painting.
"This doesn't change anything. I'm still angry with you."
"Of course."
Zhongli never seemed to run out of tea. Despite not having brewed a new pot throughout your stay, the one on the table continued to steam, its aroma wafting leisurely throughout the room. When he offered you a cup after you left the canvas out to dry, you let yourself take it. You allowed him a calmer response when he spoke.
"This may upset you a bit more, but I am also somewhat bothered you never tried to talk to me."
"So we are at an impasse."
Of course, it did occur to you that you were both being hardheaded and moronic. But you were comforted by a few things.
"It would seem so." Zhongli nodded.
"Or maybe not." You quipped, glancing pointedly at an old painting on the wall. "You seem to have been stalking me, Mr. Zhongli."
"I think stalking might be a slight exaggeration."
"Oh, really."
Even as the mountains erode over the centuries, from the dust, they are fated to reform anew.
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dividers from @clutteredfun
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yandere-daydreams · 3 months
Text
tw - none. live dove: tender and sweet.
“I didn’t think I’d see you here, old friend.”
Xianyun startled, stiffened, but recovered quickly – keeping her expression schooled and impassive as the so-called ‘mortal’ man, Zhongli, took a seat beside her. “You must have the wrong person, stranger,” she responded, eventually, never so much as glancing in his direction. “I’m sure we’ve never met.”
Zhongli let out a breath of a laugh. “A chance encounter, then – of two souls who must’ve known each other in a past life.” He paused, following her gaze. It was trained with an almost violent intensity towards you, the young tailor comparison fabric samples dutifully on the opposite side of the small shop. He’d only come to retrieve a set of burial garments Wangsheng Funeral Parlor had employed you to modify, but her unexpected presence had been a welcome surprise. “Although, I can’t say it seems like you choose this destination on a whim.”
She straightened, crossing her arms over her chest with an indignant huff. “When one is preparing oneself for a reemergence into society, one cannot be caught unprepared. Clothes, although often seen as frivolous expenditures, can be the defining factor in the success of one’s reintroduction.”  
“And I suppose,” Zhongli started, with a thoughtful hum. “That your own skill as a seamstress has waned in the past century?”
“Don’t be moronic.” It was an instinctual rebuttal, cutting and concise, only slightly undercut by the way she pursed her lips. “In spite of one’s own considerable talent, it’s not unwise to seek a professional opinion when unsure of modern fashions.”
“A professional opinion, which could only be found in one of the smallest shops in Liyue Harbor run by perhaps the most inexperienced—”
Her elbow jutted out, spearing Zhongli’s side and cutting him off as you approached – cradling a rolled bolt of fabric the color of the sky as it approached midnight, two strips of teal satin and black lace thrown over your shoulder. “I’m sorry for the delay, miss. We just received the loveliest dendrobium-treated silk from Inazuma, and—” You seemed to notice Zhongli for the first time, greeting him with a quick nod and a bright smile. “Zhongli, sir! I have your order in my workshop – I can grab it for you now.” And then, to Xianyun, “Do you mind if we take your measurements when I get back, Miss Xianyun?”
“Of course, dear. Take all the time you need.” For the first time, her eyes fell away from you and to the fabric in your arms, her head lulling gently to the side. “Its beauty is truly wonderous to behold.”
You really were charming, in all your obliviousness. With an enthusiastic nod and a few more words of praise to your supplies, you were off to your workshop to retrieve Zhongli’s materials. As soon as you’d disappeared behind the curtained doorway, he turned to Xianyun. “Its beauty is truly wonderous to behold,” he repeated, melodically. “I didn’t know you were such a poet, dear friend.”
“One more word,” she took a sharp breath, glaring daggers at the furthest wall. “And I will turn ever statue of Rex Lapis in this archon-forsaken nation to dust.”
Zhongli only grinned, leaning back with a slight hum.
At least Ganyu would be happy to know her mentor was seeking more youthful companionship.
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manicpixiefelix · 4 months
Text
head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}
Part 7.
Summary: A chance to look through Oliver Quick's eyes as he watches through windows, decides he wants to be loved, and finally takes a chance with the reader. Until it comes crashing down because Michael Gavey called Felix a slag, and it's made Oliver's problem.
{ masterpost }
Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.
Warnings: SMUT (we see reader topping felix from last chapter but through oliver's perspective, cockwarming, vague somnophilia because of that i guess??, reader getting head and reader giving head but reader's AGAB is not specified), also some vaguely unsettling imagery i guess, and the scene in felix's room with the cleaning is made even more tense and uncomfortable
A/N: 7084 words. POV shift to Oliver! Also this chapter is FUCKING HUGE, i tried to find a good place to maybe split it, but couldn't find one. so you're stuck with 7k, eat up friends! also i would really appreciate if anyone has any thoughts about how i've written oliver, id love to hear them, i don't want him to 100% like the reader, and i think ive managed to have him come across more uh, cerebral i guess im going with? yeah thoughts good, would love some. holy shit this chapter goes so many places.
TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)
----
Y/N's been rambling on about reading Anna Karenina for one of their classes ever since they'd met Oliver after his final class for the day, but he's barely able to focus on their words. Usually he likes to look like he's paying attention to their words, he knows it makes him seem attentive, and everybody loves to feel heard, but Oliver's mind is elsewhere. It's in the garden outside of Y/N's window. It's outside their door where he'd sat patiently, giving blithe smiles to your dormmates and telling them he was simply waiting for you to get dressed. The doors of the Oxford dormitories were thick, but not thick enough to hide sound on the other side from an ear pressed up against them when the hallway was empty.
It's not even close to the first time he'd seen you in these moments together; how no-one else in your group of friends, apart from Farleigh he suspected, believed you two were sleeping together was baffling. Wilful ignorance is a hell of a drug. He hopes the two of you never learn how to close your blinds.
But there was something different about yesterday.
"Any of youse seen Felix? Or Y/N?" He'd approached the group on the grass with the same kind of hesitancy he'd always put on for them, never wanting to seem too arrogant, to comfortable in their presence. He knew they didn't like him, but people like this liked feeling powerful over the 'lesser folk'. Anyways, it's not like he was particularly keen on befriending any of them, it was okay to hold them at arm's length.
Farleigh, beautiful, condescending Farleigh, looked up at him through his lashes; there was no sun in his eyes, the squint was more likely to be him half-pulling a face of contempt with plausible deniability.
"Maybe." Unhelpful.
"Y/N came through here like a fucking hurricane," Annabel told him; Oliver could only think of the irritating nasal in her voice as she'd listed off all the things she hadn't liked about him to Felix when they hadn't known he was around. Oliver fought not to make a face of his own.
"Took Felix and headed that way," a blonde boy -Rex? Reg? Oliver hadn't even bothered to retain his name - nods in the direction of the dorms.
"They're so co-dependent sometimes," India shakes her head, strange little expression on her face. Perhaps she did know and was trying to convince herself otherwise.
"Yeah," laughed Annabel, "they could have at least tried meditating or something."
"I don't know," Farleigh shook his head, clicking his tongue, "I don't think they have any other coping mechanisms apart from their co-dependant shit."
"They've always been like this?" India actually sounds a little fond.
"It actually used to be worse," Farleigh snorted, and Annabel pitched herself back in the grass, claiming that it couldn't be true.
"I mean, with that kind of money I think Felix is allowed to be weirdly close to his cousin," India says with a shrug. What? Why was the group laughing like it was an in-joke.
"They're cousins?" Oliver asks; Farleigh he knew about, but no-one had ever really talked about how Felix and Y/N had gotten so close. Considering all he'd seen them do together -
"Kissing, codependent cousins," Annabel sighs, sitting up.
"Hot, kissing, codependent cousins," India wraps an arm around her in solidarity, and the girls share an exasperated chuckle, though from looking around it seemed that a lot of the group shared that sentiment.
"You're hot too, Farleigh -"
"Thanks, but I'll stick with just that for now, I'm happy being the non-kissing, non-codependent cousin," he chuckled, before turning his attention back to Oliver, still awkwardly by the edge of the group as everyone else continued to gossip. However, catching Farleigh's eye, for the barest moment, his wolfish grin, Oliver had total and complete confirmation that Felix and Y/N were in no way actually related.
Which, if he were to guess, meant that Farleigh definitely knew the two of you were sleeping together.
And judging from all the times Oliver had spoken to you both, neither of you were aware of this well established gossip in the group, Farleigh was never ever going to correct anyone, considering how damn funny he clearly thought the entire bit was. It at least explained how the rest of the group was so unphased by the closeness you and Felix shared, while still apparently - kind of - dating other people.
Eventually, tired of putting up his awkward façade, though he was grateful for the slim amount of information he'd learned, he clears his throat.
"So -"
"That way," Farleigh doesn't look at him this time, voice flat, thumb jerking towards Y/N's dorm.
Its the afternoon, grey, most people are at classes, so the courtyard outside of your dorm room is empty of any other living souls. Whenever he stops in, or even walks past, he checks in your window out of habit to see if you're in; you don't close your blinds often so it's an easy way to tell. Anyone passing by wouldn't be able to see anything, not unless they stopped and made an effort, but Oliver wasn't most people, and knew the layout of your room and how to search it when granted even a sliver to look through like today.
And today, not only are you in your dorm with Felix, as predicted, but the sight of you both makes his mouth go dry.
Felix Catton on his back, arching, perfect mouth open in some kind of wanton, whorish noise undoubtedly as you masterfully worked his cock with your hand. Fuck, Oliver knows he shouldn't be here, shouldn't be watching this.
He steps forward into the bushes. They rustle, his heart jumps, but neither of you seem to notice.
He can't see your face with your back to him like this, but you must be saying something, because Felix's lips are moving and his chest is heaving as he's gasping out words. Oliver knows he's embarrassing flush, embarrassingly hard in these fucking slacks, but the courtyard is still empty, and he knows all too well how little the outside world matters to you and Felix in these moments.
He can feel his heart beating in his throat, in his ears, painfully against his ribs as you slide one leg so smoothly over Felix's hips, hand between your own thighs as you hover yourself above him. You're toying with Felix, taking your time, taking full and total control in a way Oliver's never seen you do. He didn't know anyone could make Felix act like this, look like this; he never thought Felix would let anyone. But he shouldn't be surprised that it's you of all people.
When you lean down over Felix, your chest against his, like a proud lion over its prey, Oliver feels sick with himself, with how he wants to burn this fucking image into his brain, with how fucking perfectly he can watch from here as you take the entire length of Felix's cock. Its impressive, both his length, and how fucking easy you make it look. You're kissing him. You're fucking him. You're riding this Adonis in a way that makes him pliant and desperate beneath you.
Oliver steps back from the window, finally glancing around to double check his surroundings. No-one peeking out of windows, no-one around. He heads inside. He knows he shouldn't but he does, pulls out the sweater he'd loaned from Felix and folds it in his lap when he sits with his back against your door, both as an excuse should anyone walk past, and to hide the visible hardness in his pants.
Sometimes you're too quiet to hear, but the way the bed creaks and the two of you moan, it's some kind of debauched symphony. Oliver swears he's not a masochist, but it almost hurts to hear you both like this, like something out of a dream or a fantasy, and to remain stone-faced at your bedroom door -
"I want everyone else you ever fuck to be jealous of the way you let me fuck you."
Oliver can't even begin to imagine the things this means, the things you want to do to Felix, but then he hears -
"Yes, fuck, yes- my Y/N, anything you want - please." Felix gasping, begging like Oliver's never heard before. Sounds he knows only you could have elicited from the man who makes people around him fall in love with him by accident.
Oliver Quick is never going to get these moments out of his head; he's never been so desperate to be wanted by anyone in his life, let alone two people. There is a shameless, lascivious kind of love between you both that he vows to get the chance to drink from the source.
It's again changed his perception of you, perhaps made him a little bolder once more. So the day after, walking to the pub after class, barely listening to you talk about your book, he's trying to see if anything's changed. As far as he was aware, your encounter with Felix the day before was unusual for you. Perhaps something's changed, and perhaps he's not subtle about looking.
It's something unspoken between you, it ebbs and flows depending on Oliver's mood, how bold he's feeling. A quiet, voyeuristic exchange you share, the pleasure of being watched, and the pleasure of watching. The roles reverse and your eyes are on him in the way eyes rarely are.
More the observant than the observed, he'd told you, yet he took pleasure in feeling your gaze upon him, taking the time that he knows is so precious to you to watch him. You are familiar to him in a way that is so foreign; you are watching and adapting and anticipating the desires around you. Not action, but reaction; a people-pleaser down to your bones, wrapped up Felix's brand of hedonism. You get off making people feel loved, but Oliver can't help but wonder about the desire you keep to yourself, just below the surface.
Neither of you have spoken about the night at the club; Oliver's desperate to see how long it will take you before you act, rather than get pushed into reacting. He doesn't know how long he can last.
Felix shows up to the pub with Annabel and a strained smile that doesn't reach his eyes. Which is better than Annabel's outright scowl. They sit in chairs across from the rounded bench that always took up half the table your group liked to tension filling the ample space between them. As the last to arrive, everyone else's attention was drawn to them, going quiet as everyone picked up the couple's sour mood.
There's a moment where Oliver catches the way Felix looks at you across the table. No-one else picks up on it, since in the next moment Felix raises his hands to cover a cough, and what Oliver suspects is a grin, but you've turned your head sharply, sniffing loudly and almost managing to press your face into Oliver's shoulder. After a beat you fake a sneeze, and apologise. Oliver brushes it off, and fights off a smile of his own. He doesn't have all the details, but clearly you made good on your promise to make Felix's other future fucks jealous.
"You know what? I'm desperate for a pint, anybody else -" Felix goes to stand, attempting to break the tension, but immediately Annabel scoffs.
"Desperate sounds about right." And she's not quiet with her scorn.
"Can you not do this now? We've been here two minutes, you want a drink?" He hissed, trying to keep up a positive façade despite the faint anger and embarrassment in his eyes. It doesn't last, of course, not with all eyes on the pair of them. It's Farleigh who speaks up first, not even bothering to hide his smug smile.
"You okay there, Felix?" He wears a grin that's all teeth.
"What?" Felix frowns, but Oliver can see exactly what Farleigh's talking about. When he brings it up, however, he does his best to sound genuinely innocent, concerned even.
"Have you got yourself hurt, Felix?" And when Felix meets his gaze he knows it's come across as intended, the conflict and frustration still somehow looking beautiful in his brown eyes.
"No, I'm fine," he tugs at the collar of his shirt, hoping it sits a little higher, hides the hickey that's clearly there.
"Burn yourself on a curling iron, Felix?" India teases, matching Farleigh's earlier energy, and while it did nothing to help Annabel's mood, at least Felix no longer seemed conflicted.
"Had a run in with a particularly aggressive vacuum cleaner?" You piped up from beside Oliver, and the minute Felix sees your own triumphant grin he starts to go pink around the ears and has to duck his head.
"Try several vacuum cleaners," Annabel snapped to the table, "or one whorish townie girl!" For just a moment, the group is quiet, contemplating what she'd said, the upset in her voice, but it's short-lived.
"How many vacuum cleaners?" Farleigh leans forward, elbows on the table and chin on his hands with a grin like the Cheshire cat. Felix tells him to fuck off, but his blush is still distinct.
"They're all over him," Annabel sticks her nose in the air, arms crossed and looking especially petulant. The lads at the table did actually cheer at that, much to her continued frustration.
"You spend entire nights hitting on other guys in front of me! You made eye contact while one latched himself onto your neck as I was trying to dance!" Felix argued back, and the jury of their peers began to shake their heads at this new information. Annabel pouted for a moment.
"That's different -"
"It kinda isn't," India tried to shoot for sympathetic, wincing as she said it, which was enough for Annabel to sigh dramatically, standing from the table.
"Fine, I do want a drink," and she immediately made a furious beeline for the bar. Felix, however, hesitated for a moment, watching her leave before he turned back to the group with a cocky smile, yanking down the collar of his shirt to show off several more bright, scandalous hickeys.
"Best vacuum cleaner I've ever had," he tells them all smugly, before standing up straight and righting his shirt, "okay, this round's on me." A cheer rises from the group, but as Felix walks off, Oliver catches the way he winks at Y/N. You snort a quiet laugh, but Oliver's pretty sure he's the only one who heard it.
Christ, you two weren't even trying to be subtle half the time.
Still, for all her apparent frustration at Felix's mystery partner, it seemed to only make Annabel cling to him further. No more flirting with strangers, no more sitting apart. She reeks of insecurity, but Oliver just watches you watching her. There's something in your eyes in these moments, like a lion too sated to be bothered with the hunt, but the instinct to pounce could resurface at any moment.
But Oliver's obsession with the intricacies of your lives still lead him outside of Felix's window after one of countless parties. Still watching with animal curiosity and a cigarette in hand, as Annabel works hard to stake her claim on a man she desperately wants to own.
Annabel is an unenthralling understudy, Oliver thinks.
Throwing the butt of his cigarette into the bushes, he can't bring himself to stay. He knows where he needs to go, knows what he needs to do; in his mind Annabel is a lithe and graceful performance of extasy, and Felix is all quiet focus and hard, gorgeous muscles shining with sweat from the exertion of it all. But there's no love. It's all performance, a pleasurable performance for them, he's sure, but it's just two beautiful people smashing their bodies together in sloppy ecstasy.
Fuck.
No only is a creep, and a pervert, but now he's a picky, creepy pervert.
But his thoughts stop in the courtyard outside of your dorm. You light is on. Your window is open all the way, and there you are, looking like a dream in your pyjamas, sitting on the windowsill and having a smoke.
"Ollie!" He'll never get sick of how you say his name, how you smile when you see his face. There's a split second where he has to make a decision, has to figure out how to approach you in this moment. At the club you'd all but folded on the spot at his bold approach, he knows he could have had you practically there and then if he'd been inclined, but part of him can't stop thinking about how you'd had Felix on his back, practically begging.
Oliver feels like every time he thinks he's close to figuring you out, he learns something knew about you that makes him rethink it all. He wants to know all of you, your hopes and dreams and the grotesque desires you will never tell the world, desperate to keep testing you and your reactions, and perhaps even your limits if it ever came to that, to figure out how to get underneath your beautiful skin the way Felix had. Part of him feels like you're never going to stop surprising him, one way or the other. You are intrigue and unexpected and he wants to carve a home for himself in your bones.
"Thought you'd still be out," you tell him, back flush with the frame of your window, one leg up on the ledge while the other dangled over the gardens he'd watched you from more times than he'd like to admit.
"'s not the same without you," he admits after a moment, hands in his pockets. Your endeared, bashful smile is predictable, but no less heart-warming to see. He loves the way you react to him.
"Is that why you're here," it sounds teasing, but he can hear a hint of something that almost sounds hopeful. When you look back at him again, there's that same look you've been giving him since he'd held you, kissed you, ghosted you at the club.
"I don't know," he lies softly, "I just started walking."
"Come on then," you grin, stubbing out your cigarette on the windowsill, "you came all this way, why not have a sleepover," and you swing your legs inside, hopping off the ledge. He moves automatically towards the window, but when you hear him moving, you frown over your shoulder, "door, Ollie."
He's never been inside your room at night.
It glows with the same gold light that all these old building with their old lamps glowed, casting all your knickknacks in shadow and sharp relief. Only your bed lamp was on, book open on your bed. Jane Austin's Emma.
"Sorry, I don't mean to impose," Oliver's voice matches the rest of how he wants to appear; small. Sitting on your soft, patterned duvet, he looks not at you, but around at the room you call home, cataloguing everything in this new light, trying not to think about Felix and Annabel fucking, Felix and Annabel laughing, Felix and Annabel joking about how -
He's a scholarship boy who buys his clothes from Oxfam; no-one wants to sit next to fucking Oliver.
"I love you Ollie," you tell him blithely, easily, truthfully, "you never impose."
Annabel grates on his ears and his nerves and his fucking memories. Your smile is like a balm for that the burn that snobby bitch leaves in the back of his mind when he thinks too hard about her.
You move with such ease around the space, not that he should be at all surprised at that. Perhaps it's more that he still feels like a stranger in his own room at times. Planting yourself against your headboard legs crossed and looking so at ease in your summer pyjamas, you ask, tone light, "you don't mind if I read for a bit, I'm not going to be up much longer, but like I said, you're always welcome to stay."
"What are you reading?" Oliver lets himself relax in your presence, lays himself back on the bed, looking up at the sculpted ceiling of the old building. He knows what you're reading, he just likes hearing your voice.
"Emma," he can hear the rustle of the pages, had seen the worn spine and yellowing paper, wonders if it's vintage, wonders how you got it if it is, "Jane Austen for my lit class."
"Finished Anna Karenina?" You make a quiet hum of acknowledgement. More silence and the warmth of company and lamp light, "it's been a while since I've read any Austen."
"Do you want me to read some to you?" Of course there's humour in your tone, but Oliver can hear it for the genuine offer that it is. When he looks at you, he can't help but smile. There's such fond affection in your eyes as you look at him over the top of the book.
"Please," he says it so softly, so sweetly, and it's enough to see you smile before you disappear behind the book again.
"I'm near the end, you won't get the context -"
"Doesn't matter," he sits back up, pulls off his jacket, kicks off his shoes, and settles back beside you.
"Settled?" Your voice is a murmur, barely a whisper, and when he laughs quietly, he knows you can feel the way it rumbles within him.
When you start, your voice is soothing, halfway through a chapter, through a conversation between characters he has no clue about. He's never read Austen but he'd devour her books if you were the one reading them. It feels like an almost perfect moment.
"- Seldom, very seldom," his head is on your shoulder, eyes scanning the page, the words as you read them, "does complete truth belong to any human disclosure; seldom can it happen that something is not a little disguised or a little mistaken, but-”
"I did come here for you," something about the line makes the hairs prick on the back of his neck, he can't keep quiet; there is want still simmering beneath his skin, and each time his mind drifts to Felix and Annabel, something furious and desperate coils in his gut. You fall silent, book still open and aloft, cheek still resting against his head where he's kept it on your shoulder. When you take a deep breath, he feels it, both of you move in sync, "of course I came here for you."
This time, he doesn't reach out, doesn't touch you more than he is. Every time he's reached out, he's gone against the pattern you've observed of him, he's always made a connection with you where you know he holds back from others. This time, he waits with bated breath.
"If there's nothing more you want from me than moments like this, I'll never say another word about it," he assures, as if trying not to spook or pressure you. But still he waits.
"What do you want, Ollie?" To pick you apart like a vulture, to see the desires you keep so close they're written on your bones.
"You," he says instead, all gentle words and just as gentle breathing, "if you'll have me." Tell me what it is you want. Tell me you can want. Tell me you know you can want things for yourself, want things beyond a reaction to the wants and needs of everyone around you -
Carefully, you reach over to your bedside table, trying not to jostle either of you too much, and keep your place with a bookmark before you put the book down.
But you do make the first move. You take his face in your hands, holding him like he's fragile and perfect and porcelain, shuffling to face him properly. This kiss tastes almost like home, like finally from you both, until his tongue runs along your lips and you part willingly for him, the kiss turning quickly more passionate. Oliver's not even sure how he came to be straddling your lap, nor how he didn't notice you undoing half of his shirt buttons already, but when the kiss breaks he takes your hands in his.
"Of course I want you," tumbles from your lips, sounding heady, needy, and for just a moment, Oliver breath stutters in his chest. But he slows things down again, leans in to kiss you sweetly once more, before he's pulling off your pyjama shirt.
"I want to know what you want," he murmurs against your lips, kissing his way down your jaw slowly as he speaks, "wanna know how to make you feel good."
"Anything you do -" you try, but he looks up after pressing a kiss to your sternum.
"You need to be needed," he says softly, punctuating each statement with a kiss, refusing to break eye contact with you, "and you want to be wanted," his warm lips on your belly, he sees the conflict in your eyes, the desire and embarrassment all at once, "and you're very good at those things, one of the best, I'm sure." Hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your underwear, he pauses, "is this okay?" You nod quickly, enthusiastically, and he gives a warm smile.
"You're like me, sweetheart," he says softly, resting his cheek on your inner thigh for a moment, watching you still. Reaching out, you card your fingers through his hair, fingers trailing down his jaw, and he turns his face to kiss your palm, "I know that if I gave you half a chance, you'll figure out how to be all I could ever want, but tonight I want everyone to hear how you sound when someone's making you feel good-" he doesn't realise he's quoting something he should not have heard from Felix until it's too late, but you cut him off. You didn't even seem to realise.
Then your other hand is in his hair, a new look in your eyes, a newfound determination, a nervous excitement. You grip on his hair tightens.
"Yes?" He gives a cheeky grin, and you finally smile like you mean it.
"I get it," you roll your eyes, but there's nothing malicious about it, especially since the gesture has Oliver pressing his own chuckle against your thigh, "now you have one guess as to how I'd like you to shut up." There's that confidence he'd heard the other day, the confidence that was burned into the back of his mind, the confidence that had been part of the reason he'd spent a good hour in the shower after hearing it.
"Only if you turn out your lamp," he smirks, though inside all he can think about is how bright the whole room is through the gap in the curtains. It doesn't seem to bother you, it never has, and though he was grateful for it when he was on the outside looking in, there's something about being the one potentially being watched that causes him a faint sense of unease.
You call the moonlight more romantic anyways, and Oliver doesn't need to be told twice to go down on you.
When Oliver wakes the next morning, still in your bed, still in you, he almost wants to pinch himself. It's a childish sentiment, but you're in his arms, wrapped up in him and this early morning light through your curtains. Though he tries not to jostle you too much, the arm beneath his head is asleep and getting more uncomfortable by the second. Except the movement just makes you mumble around a breathy moan, hips moving against his.
"Fucking hell," he groans into your ear, and he gets a sleepy, contented chuckle in return, turning your face a little more towards him to give an affectionate bump against his forehead.
"Ollie~"
For just a second, Oliver thinks about living in this moment for the rest of his life.
"You okay?" He murmurs, watching your smile grow. Everything about you looks so pleased, so content, so satisfied.
"Never done that before," you admit, wiggling your hips a little. Oliver swears under his breath again, but judging by the mischievous smile you wear and the twinkle in your eyes, you knew exactly what you were doing. Then, with all the casualness of any other conversation, you manage to catch him off guard again; "anyone who thinks you don't fit in has clearly never fucked you; you fit perfectly -" his teeth sink into your shoulder before he can even properly figure out how he should have reacted.
But instead of finding it strange or off-putting, you let out a breathy laugh, tension easing in your shoulders. Your hips begin to roll against his, consistent, deliberate. He wonders how many people you've let fuck you like this, like they love you, like they care about you. Oh he knows you fuck your friends with love on your tongue, treat them like they're your last meal, like they mean something, but Oliver gets the feeling you don't expect them to return the favour. He's seen the kind of company you keep, he's pretty sure they never do.
How many of them have seen you grateful the way you look now, bathed in the morning light of Summer, laughing and unable to stop talking with such casual fondness in your eyes and on your lips.
When you go down on him in the shower, Oliver thinks he sees hearts in your eyes.
There might just be something very fucking wrong with you, and he's grateful for it every day.
But it doesn't last.
It's on a Summer day that's too hot, less than a week since he'd spent the night with you. Summer days around here seem to always be too hot, but this might be the worst. Felix still doesn't close his blinds, sun painting him golden where he lay on the floor of his room with a cigarette. Oliver had perched himself on the windowsill as you'd taken up residence on Felix's bed, sitting with your back to his headboard, engrossed in what appeared to be notes, or some kind of file.
Oliver has no idea if you've told Felix, or what you would have told him. The dynamic between the three of you appears to have remained otherwise unchanged. Sometimes, however, Oliver catches Felix looking at him out of the corner of his eyes, head tipped, curious like he was about Oliver's past; his expression is always unreadable, but it's started pitting in Oliver's stomach whenever he catches it. Felix always looks away. Felix has been looking at him less lately, that too causes some kind of anxious feeling Oliver would rather not dwell on.
"I don't like Michael Gavey," you announced from your relatively dark corner of Felix's bed. How did you even know Michael Gavey?
"Who?" Felix makes a face in the sunlight, whole expression wrinkling up, as if trying to wrack his brains. But you're looking at Oliver. There's no affection in your eyes, manila folder in your hands.
"He's-" Oliver feels like he's on the back foot again. All the comfort and good will he'd built up around the two of you feels suddenly so far away, "he's in my year." There's no precedent, no road map in his mind for where this could be going.
"He likes you," it's accusatory coming from you. Oliver looks to Felix for a moment, if only to avoid the intensity of your gaze, but he's closed his eyes, staying out of it.
Oliver considers bailing out of the window, but thinks better of it.
"He, erm, kind of was my friend, I suppose."
"Kind of was your friend?" Felix's voice is almost cold, surprising Oliver, but apparently not you. It's clear you're both looking for some kind of elaboration. Why did this feel like an interrogation? What had Michael done? Why was Oliver on trial for it? Felix cracks his eyes open as he takes a long draught of his cigarette.
"Back at the start of the year," Oliver wets his lips, fidgeting, focusing his attention only on the folder you held, desperate to know what was in it.
"Nasty friend you had," you tell him. It's so cold it almost stings.
"Is he the one who got you all riled up the other week?" Felix finally appears to connect the dots, sitting up on his elbows. Thankfully, however, his amusement breaks the tension, and you have to hide your face behind the file as you opened it and began to read. Oliver could feel his heart in his throat, confused, anxious -
"Impressive mathematic record across the board for his first semester, as well all throughout sixth form," you rattled off, eyes narrowed as you look at the paper, "several documented attempts to contact the Head of Math, Phys-Ed, and Life Sciences to," you cleared your throat, shaking your head with surprising disdain, "beg to be exempt from any potentially mandatory Humanities or Social Sciences courses. Unsurprising," you rolled your eyes, "since he bombed his English and French GCSEs, and I think he's the kind of person who prides himself on a perfect GPA."
Every fact you list you do so with such casual cruelty, momentarily folding the file closed and leaning down to make sure you could see Felix.
"He went to high school with us apparently," so casual it actually hurts Oliver a little to hear, "year below us he said," and you wiggle the file in your hands, "looks to be true."
"Still don't know him," Felix shrugs, like he doesn't give any kind of a shit how you got your hands on all of this information. Sitting back, you continued;
"Applied for scholarships - didn't get them; turns out you have to play sports to get a sports scholarships," you click your tongue as you flip through the pages of Michael's file like you were reading the newspaper, "no clubs, no social life, and a notably arrogant prick." You snapped the file closed, levelling a look at Oliver that he'd never seen you make. It was nothing, like a void, demanding a reaction, a response from him. Accusatory yet without any hint of blame, there's something about this look of intense, demanding neutrality that makes him feel actually sick, like you'll be able to know when he lies, know all his secrets if you look at him long enough.
Felix settles back down on the ground, seemingly immune to the tension so thick Oliver felt like he was choking on it. Even if he looks away he can feel your eyes boring into him, like a spider watching a futile fly in it's web.
"What's your problem with him?" Oliver can only bring himself to look out the window, bringing his hand up to scratch at his nose. Maybe if he covers his mouth he won't spill his guts under your gaze. Then, almost so fast it gives Oliver motion sickness, the tension drops.
You sit yourself back, kick your feet out in front of you, and toss the file to the end of the bed. That can't be legal.
"It's sweet that your friends are protective, but he knows you're your own person, right -?" God your light, flippant tone all but rings in his ears. Still, Oliver knows a warning when he hears it.
"He's not my friend; he was, but he's not," Oliver quickly insists, desperate to be on the other side of this deeply uncomfortable conversation. The tension eases in your shoulders when he looks over to you; the right answer. Something about the relief he feels doesn't sit quite right; why had you brought Michael up now of all times? Why had your gaze felt so constricting, even when he and Michael weren't even close; all you would have had to do was ask -
"Said some nasty things about us is all," your voice goes quiet, rueful even, and he follows your gaze to the edge of the bed to where you knew Felix lay, "called Fi a slag."
But there it was; the true audience for your show of force, and the blade that sliced so cleanly through any other attachment people think they have with Felix, all in one.
Its a simple nickname, the most basic nickname anyone could give to a guy named Felix, but no-one else calls him anything but Felix. No-one else calls him Fi the way you do, they wouldn't dare. He wears your nickname like a collar and he doesn't even realise.
"What a cunt," Felix groaned, so infuriatingly uncaring.
In the moments that follow, Oliver almost feels like his head's spinning from the interaction that had just been forced upon him. There's so many questions, new, anxiety-inducing implications for the information you've brought to them both today. Felix doesn't seem troubled by it, but that seems to be the point.
"So fucking hot," he sighs into the afternoon heat, finishing off his cigarette like none of what you'd said even mattered now.
"I know," Oliver finds his voice again, barely. He can't look at you, at the way you're lounging in what he could mistake for triumph. All he can see is Felix, the centre of the fucking universe.
There's something grotesque about you both in this moment, in this room, beautiful and terrible; the perfect picture of privilege and squalor.
"What's that smell?" Pizza, mostly empty drinks, plates and cups unwashed, dirty clothes -
"Uh," if Felix thinks about it, he isn't thinking too hard, clearly, "I don't know." Smoke rings from his pretty lips aren't enough of a distraction from the moment, from the filth of it all now that Oliver's starting to properly look around.
Again he finds himself realising that he has no idea about your background, how you came to find Felix. Sitting with your back to the headboard and eyes closed, even you seem to not care-
"Can't believe you let him live like this," Oliver actually scoffs, hopping from the windowsill, needing to do something with his hands, move, shake off the layer of moral grime that your verbal attack on Michael Gavey had showered him in.
"What?" Felix barely even props himself up, "what are you on about?"
"It's disgusting, Felix."
"It's fine."
"Right, I'm cleaning up -" Oliver moves without thinking, picking up a the waste paper basket and throwing out trash from every surface he can reach. He can't look at Felix, can't look at you, but you're both watching him, "only rich people can afford to be this filthy," he hears himself say. Then, after barking a laugh with no humour in it, he turns his shallow gaze on you, "and what's your excuse? Just picked the habit up after all those years?" For a moment you look at him with genuine confusion, but you give him no real response before Felix tells him to fuck off. But Oliver doesn't stop.
Even as Felix is growing more fed up, insisting he'll clean up later, Oliver's own frustration rises. Felix will never do anything for himself.
Except he doesn't mean to say that part out loud.
That's what gets Felix on his feet, gets him to grab the basket, irritation and resentment on his tongue. Oliver feels like he's touched a live wire, like he's pushed Felix too far, watching him tall, frustrated, glowing with sweat from the afternoon heat. It's the heat Felix complains about as he blows about him room, resentfully stuffing rubbish into the bin, complains about the building and it's age and it's wood fucking panelling that can't be ruined with an air conditioner.
In the moment Oliver chooses to glance to you, he's surprised. You only have eyes for Felix, watching him with an expression Oliver can't begin to fathom, curled up in the corner of his bed. You are waiting. You are holding yourself back. You are desperately trying to let Felix prove Oliver wrong.
"Stressing about the exams?" Oliver tries to pivot, tries to redirect the conversation to something he can claw his way back from, that will keep these relationships from being unsalvageable.
"I'm not stressed about the exams, Ol," Felix sounds like he could snap at any moment, sitting on the edge of his bed, wastebasket held on his knees while his other hand reaches out to you. Still half a foot of space between you, and you keep yourself compact, but the intention is clear; Oliver wonders if he even knows he does that, or if it's just instinct for the two of you these days. Felix, however, is looking at him, that same look he's been giving Oliver since you'd slept with him, "you're driving me fucking -"
Felix seems to realise what he's saying, however, with a sharp inhale as he looked away, moving his free hand from beside you to run through his hair. What is there to say now?
Felix says he's got revising to do, that he'll text later about going to the pub. Oliver desperately wants to believe it, but can hear that it's a lie. Felix can't even fucking look at him.
Oliver finally throws a helpless, hopeful glance to you. This time you are looking at him, but there's apology in your eyes. It's enough. It's the confirmation he'd dreaded, that makes his stomach drop.
"Ollie," even just a few hours ago he'd been in love with the way you said his name. Never like this.
"I'll catch you round," he can't look at either of you as he retreats, cant bare your eyes on him like that, and Felix's turned away.
A million thoughts, desperate ideas, all circle the drain that is quickly becoming his mind as the anxiety and the anguish sets in.
Unsalvageable. Past the point of no return. Irrevocably, awfully different.
With all he'd learned of you both, however, he couldn't just let it go to waste. Oliver had worked for all he had in this life, this prestigious place, among these self-important people. Despite his ongoing attempts to figure you out, he at least knew that if he was good to Felix, he was in good with you.
And Oliver knew exactly who Felix Catton wanted him to be.
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Text
Them with a reader that worships another Archon
characters: Venti / Zhongli / Ei / Furina x gn!reader (separate)
warnings: none
a/n: Didn't write for Ei in a long time... not to mention Zhongli and Venti, so if I got some of their personality traits wrong, I'm sorry.
Anyway, hope you enjoy!
Venti 
“Let’s hope you’re not made out of sugar, or else we’re gonna have a tiny problem”, the Bard joked once he took a glance out of the window, the heavy rain and thunder that had come seemingly out of nowhere difficult to notice, even for the drunken inhabitants of Angel’s Share.
“Rain’s a nuisance at best, I’ll be fine”, your response lacked any signs of the usual annoyance people would feel in this situation, whether it was the alcohol or your attitude towards rain that made you seem almost relaxed was up for debate however.
Just as the words had left your mouth, a giant lightning caused the room to light up, soon followed by a deafening thunder, earning you a grin that spoke more than a thousand words. “Still only a nuisance?”
“Sure, the Raiden Shogun will protect me from the lightning”, came your dry response, causing the bard’s ears to perk up. Truth be told, he couldn’t care less about whatever god you were worshiping, forcing people’s hands or getting grumpy over their decisions was hardly the God of Freedom’s modus operandi. Although this did open up a whole new conversation topic.
“Want me to pass your mighty Raiden Shogun a message the next time I see her?”, Venti offered with a smirk, drawing a laugh out of you almost instantly.
“Yeah, sure Venti. I have no doubt you’d be able to play your way into an audience with her, especially since the last time you stepped foot into Inazuma went so swimmingly”, you jokingly responded, waving goodbye before readying yourself to run back home through the rain.
Zhongli
There was neither law nor contract that obliged the citizens of Liyue to worship Rex Lapis. Sure, the Archon might have been the city's patron god and had descended each year to give instructions and advice, but who’s name spilled out of its citizens' lips during their prayer was none of Zhongli’s business. 
And yet, when he heard a particular name slip out of your mouth, the Archon couldn’t help but furrow his eyebrows for the briefest of moments.
“Thank Barbatos, I was starting to think I’d never find it”, you let out a relieved sigh once your eyes finally spotted the pin on the floor, glistening as if it was calling out for its owner before quickly finding itself stuck onto your coat once again, your lips forming a small smile.
“Hmm? Is something the matter?”, you once again turned towards Zhongli, not missing the conflicted expression that had since long been replaced by his usual smile.
“Not at all. I was simply surprised for a moment, Barbatos Worshippers in Liyue are pretty scarce after all, although there’s certainly nothing wrong with having another Archon as one’s Deity.” His explanation was enough to satisfy you, as your conversation quickly shifted back to the previous topic. And yet the scene remained on his mind for quite a while.
Let’s hope you and your god’s paths never converged… for your faith’s sake.
Ei
Hearing you mumble another Archon’s name in your brief prayer before eating caused Ei’s hand to freeze just close to her mouth, leaving the small sweet hovering in front of her face as her eyes remained fixed on you, the silence gradually causing your face to turn all shades of red as you tried to hide your tenseness behind a polite smile.
“I didn’t know you worshiped Rex Lapis”, Ei stated, her tone coming out more accusatory than she ever intended, causing a small apology to follow shortly after, bringing the tension of the room down significantly. 
Humans were entitled to their own decisions, and yet hearing you worship another god left a… bitter taste in her mouth. Especially since she wasn’t sure whether or not it had to do with her or was totally unrelated, the thought that you liked another Archon more than her filling her with jealousy, no matter how ridiculous she knew the whole situation to be.
“My family originally came from Liyue, so praying to Rex Lapis before meals is somewhat of a tradition for me… even if I don’t worship him on many other occasions”, you explained sincerely, remembering scenes of sharing meals with your family as a small smile made its way onto your face.
Whether it was because of your explanation or the gentle expression on your face, but whatever semblance of jealousy Ei felt within her swiftly melted away, her shoulders relaxing before she finally took a bite of the food in front of her, the corners of her lips rising when you did the same.
Furina
Truth be told, when Furina heard another Archon’s name come out of your mouth she felt a wave of relief wash over her. The last thing she wanted was for you to put her on a pedestal, no matter how attention-seeking she could be from time to time. And while she couldn’t blame those still seeing her as their Archon, considering how she had played the role for generations, she wished for your relationship to be one of equals instead of a god and her worshiper.
“Ah, I guess praying to another Archon in front of a former one is a bit rude. I’m sorry-”, you rushed to form an apology once you noticed Furina’s silence, your face growing red in embarrassment and shame before being cut off by her.
“It’s fine, I’m not as vain as to feel slighted by such a non-issue”, she lifted her hand before waving you off, a smirk on her lips as she thought of what to say next. “I am no longer an Archon after all, so having people worship the grass the Archon ‘Focalors’ walks on would only serve as a distraction from how mesmerizing the great Furina is.”
A chuckle from you was all it took to bring her back down from her ego-trip, your smile quickly spreading over to her, and before she knew it, she was snickering herself.
“Alright, let’s get the great Furina a dessert as reward for her inexhaustible modesty.”
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violet-eng · 7 months
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Lantern Rite Zhongli x fem!reader - NSFW of course
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Summary: Zhongli likes reader! since the first day he saw her. Then, during the Lantern Rite, he finds a spot where to watch the show together and do it. The second part wasn't planned. Old man just wanted some time with his crush but ended up doing it.
Warnings: Smut as always. piv. Outdoors sex? Unprotected sex (wear a condom please)
World count: idk, but it's a lot.
(🎨by @gorooon0402)
__________________ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐┊ ⋆ ┊ . ┊ ┊┊ ┊⋆ ┊ .┊ ┊ ⋆˚         ✧. ┊         ⋆ ★
The first time Zhongli saw you was at the top of the city, at the place where Rex Lapis had died. You had caught his attention, kneeling in front of the place, offerings in front of you and your head lowered.
He knew everyone in Liyue, somehow his ancient omniscience had given him that privilege, but you were a complete stranger. The cloak covering your body, the seams bruised and the hood worn, you had had a long journey, but you were there, praying.
You stood up, wiped your knees and adjusted your clothes. You headed towards the exit and brushed against his arm.
“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice soft, just like your features. You were in his eyes the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life.
That same afternoon, Zhongli goes to the Bubu pharmacy in search of certain medications; his human form had been difficult for him to care for in recent years. He rings the bell on the table expecting Baizhu or Qiqi to appear, instead, you are the one who receives it. This time you wear a different cape, matte oak colors without a hood, allowing your face to be seen clearly, framed by your hair.
"What can I help you?" You ask, both hands on the table and a kind smile on your lips. Zhongli, due to vestiges of his ability as an Archon, perceives a certain energy emanating from you: perseverance, an unbreakable will accompanied by nostalgia and kindness. He realizes that you have come a long way in your life, that you know hard work and have extensive knowledge about the different nations of Teyvat. He wonders why he didn't give you a Vision when he was Rex Lapis, realizing you lack one. All of this is enough to awaken something in him, a human feeling that he thought he had gotten rid of a long time ago.
"I need medicine" is the only thing that can come out of his lips, while he spreads a prescription in front of you.
"Ah, yes. Mr. Baizhu warned me that someone like you would come" you say, taking a bag.
"Someone like me?" The phrase sparks a hungry curiosity in Zhongli.
"Yes, an elegant gentleman with an eloquent voice."
Those words send a wave of heat up Zhongli's spine, although his face doesn't flinch.
"I see, it's like Baizhu" he finally says.
The following months you find yourself invading Zhongli's mind, and the more he gets to know you he realizes the greater attraction he feels for you. It's not just your face, your smile or your gestures, it's the way you care for the patients that Baizhu can't care for, the way you tell the children about the things you've seen outside of Liyue, when you help Madam Ping with her teapot or when you bandage Yanfei's ankle for running from side to side.
You are the kind of person he decided to live for as a human, the kind of pure soul he had given up his gnosis for, the creature he hates not having created, even though he knows he would never have had the ability to create something so perfect like you.
The Lantern Rite arrives, the festival is bigger this year than last, and Zhongli, who watches everything from one of the tables at the Wanmin Restaurant, cannot help but feel slightly alone. He looks for you in the crowd, perhaps you could share stories of his expeditions as you have often done for a few weeks, but he can't find you anywhere. That worries him.
He asks about you in a subtle way, knowing that people hold you in high esteem for your work as an auxiliary doctor, discovering that you have been making outpatient visits all day to some of the adventurers who suffered a gunpowder accident while preparing the fireworks.
So Zhongli heads to the city dock, where he finds you leaving the house of one of your patients. He notices that you are exhausted, so he approaches you cautiously.
"It looks like you haven't rested all day" he says as he offers you a drink.
"Is it late for the event?" you ask after wiping your lips with the back of your hand.
"No, you're just in time."
"Madame Ping's place is probably full, not to mention the plaza. I was dying to see the lanterns this year," you say, looking over the sea, where you realize that they are preparing everything for the big event.
"I know a place..." Zhongli says, not very sure of his words although his tone of voice hides it pretty well.
So you two end up crossing the water in a boat, reaching the other shore, from where you can see the coast of Liyue.
You are amazed by the sight, and you express it to Zhongli as you get rid of your cloak, revealing your clothes underneath, it is a dress, and Zhongli surprises himself by looking for where the zipper of your clothes would be or how easily It would be undoing your buttons.
The lanterns rise, and you pick up your legs as you follow the bright spots rising above the dark sky with your gaze. You watch the show and Zhongli looks at you, the amber color of the fudistant ego reflected faintly on your face.
You are alone, and that gives him enough courage to approach you, take your chin in his hand and turn your face towards his. You don't have time to react because his lips are against yours, gently sucking on your bottom lip.
You put your hands on his chest and separate yourself from him in search of air. He feels dazed, ecstatic, and ashamed all at once. He believes he has offended you, and regret consumes him until you kiss him again, this time wrapping your arms around his neck.
You feel the same as him, and that gives him enough courage to take off his jacket and tie while still kissing you. His hands go behind your back looking for that zipper that he had identified before, and then sliding it to reveal your body in lingerie. The image sends a ripple to his core and he suddenly feels imprisoned in his pants. He gently pushes you until your back is against the grass, damp from the rain a few hours ago, and he positions himself over you, your legs between his.
“Zhongli…” you whisper as you watch the way he undoes his shirt and then removes a glove with his teeth. You notice something primitive, almost animalistic, in his gaze.
As he undoes his pants you notice his hardened cock lifting the fabric of his underwear, your already wet center becoming even more soaked at the image of him on top of you.
Zhongli leans over you to kiss you as he gets rid of the fabric and is completely exposed to you. The image he gives you makes your nipples harden, and you close your legs even more before the incessant moisture that flows from you. Zhongli's body seems sculpted, his shoulders defined, his pectorals large, and his abdomen marked by his muscles. His cock points at you, big and thick, the head red with hunger at your center and a vein bulging on the side.
You gulp at the thought of what awaits you. You can't believe you're with him like this, outdoors, on the grass.
"We're alone, right?" you ask, and he smiles, leaning over you.
"Completely alone," he says, kissing your neck as one of his hands slides under the fabric of your bra, grabbing the soft flesh of your breast and teasing your nipple.
“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” he whispers in your ear, his voice hoarse.
He takes off your bra, exposing your breasts to him. You try to cover yourself, but he grabs your hands and pulls them away from your breasts. He wants to see you, he has wanted to for weeks.
"Don't be shy," he hisses, tilting his head, a proud smile on his lips. You are completely blushing, "Let's see what else you have for me" he says, sliding one of his fingers between your breasts, down your abdomen and reaching the edge of your panties. He lowers them cautiously from both ends and when he takes them from you he brings them to his nose, inhaling your essence impregnated in the damp fabric. That only causes you to leak even more.
Zhongli throws the fabric along with the rest of the clothes and bows again, this time he won't pause as much. He glances at you as he spreads your legs with one hand, a lopsided smile appearing on his face as he notices how wet you are for him.
"All this just by touching you" he says as he slides two of his fingers through your folds making you shudder and arch your back, you are as needy for him as he is for you.
He brings his fingers to his mouth and tastes your juices, running his tongue over his lips.
"So sweet, and all for me," he growls.
He aligns himself with your entrance and suddenly you feel him slide easily inside you, it's as if you were tailor-made for him, specially created for him.
Zhongli pushes his way inside you, molding your walls to the shape of his cock.
“You're tight,” he whispers, stifling a moan, leaning over you and gripping the grass under his hands. The way you squeeze him drives him crazy.
When Zhongli is completely inside you, you throw your head to the side and cover your mouth so he doesn't hear you moan, you don't want to make him uncomfortable with some embarrassing sound.
"I want to hear you," he says, taking your hands and putting them on the sides of your head, "I want to hear you moan, scream, curse... no one else is going to hear you, only me."
You look at him with reddened cheeks, completely drugged with desire and lust. The way those words leave his lips, the way he looks at you while he's inside you, all of it makes you feel ready for whatever's next.
Zhongli moves slowly at first, drawing soft moans from you, he wants you to adjust to his size, he wants you to get used to his rhythm as he holds on your hips while he lets low moans into your neck.
You cling to his back and move your hips as if to signal that you are ready, that you want him to fuck you as he really wants.
When your insides feel empty without him, your walls clench around his tip, and then he slides all the way inside, hard and fast, giving you no time to process the thrust.
He does it one, two, three times, keeping your hips static against the grass, the friction against your buttocks burns at first, but then succumbs to the pleasure you feel every time he enters you, every time he hits your cervix and your g-spot. Every time he moans incoherently into your neck you forget that they are out in the open fucking like two animals in heat.
"So soft, so mine," he says between indecent moans as his tip arches inside you, hitting your cervix. You feel that at any moment he will cross into your uterus and split in half.
The force with which he thrusts into you is almost beastly, accompanied by grunts and his hand tangled in your hair. His mouth attacks your nipple, making you feel double stimulation.
Zhongli stands up and sits on the grass, placing you on top of him, on his hip. He never left your insides.
You cling to his neck and rest your head on his shoulder, the image of the approaching lanterns blurred by the tears in your eyes. Zhongli's hands on your hips mark the pace of penetration, sinking deeper into you if that is possible.
"Just like that, cutie, just like that~" he growls as he squeezes your glutes and abuses your pussy with his cock. You feel a knot forming inside you.
“Zhongli,” you moan, breathing heavily, arching your back and digging your nails into his shoulders.
He realizes you're about to reach your limit, and he lays you back down on the grass.
"Don't resist," he says as he lifts one of your legs and places it on his shoulder, giving you a wave of ecstasy from the new, even more pleasurable position.
You look at his face as he continues to move inside you, some of the lanterns fly above his head, the amber fire almost as intense as that of his eyes at that moment. You caress his cheek, that image of him, thirsty for your pussy with the flashlights on him, you want to keep it in your memory forever.
His thrusts become frantic and irregular in rhythm, you feel the burning in your belly and center grow more and more, like a flame of fire every time he touches the already quite abused rubbery spot. Zhongli goes on and on and on and then you feel him coming. The knot inside you unravels and you let out a scream as you mark his back with your nails. You've reached your orgasm, and overstimulation haunts you as Zhongli continues to move, seeking to reach his own climax.
He twists his mouth into a grimace and presses his hips against yours, releasing a load of his cum into your hole.
He's breathing hard, his forehead is sweaty, and his member is still inside you. You caress his chest and neck, he takes your hand and kisses the back. You are both silent, only your heavy breathing can be heard in the air.
"Oh my Rex Lapis" you finally say.
Zhongli smiles and kisses you on the lips after hearing you say that. Maybe in the future he will tell you about his past and who he really is, for now he just wants to be there, lying next to you, naked and watching the lanterns traveling through the night sky.
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dark-night-hero · 1 year
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「Without Me」 Zhongli
↳ In which as the lantern rite festival was once again celebrated, you find yourself bidding your farewell in the land that you cherished the most. They're doing fine without you anyway.
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Hands on the pocket, the figure quietly approaches the place. (Hair color) locks being swayed by the wind as the figure does so. After making sure no one was around, the figure pulled out something out of who knows where. There a two cups as well as a bottle of osmanthus wine was all you could bring.
Right in front of you were a few offerings, things that surely reminded you of her. Placing a cup on her nonexistent grave yet knew it was quite a memorial place for her to be, you place a cup on her seat and just hold your but upon realizing you need to open the wine bottle, you place it on the table, opening the bottle afterwards.
"It's been a while, hasn't it? Guizhong." You spoke as you pour her wine cup and yours some wine. "I thought about it for a long time and decided to pay a visit before I go." You spoke casually, placing the wine bottle right beside the rest of the offerings on the table before picking up your own cup. "So here I am." Then you took a sip, and damn, it tastes the same.
You just stood there for a long time. You have nothing to say in the first place. So you just stood there as the gentle breeze passes by, your (hair color) locks slowly becoming a mess by the wind but not that you mind. As time passed by, the slowly but surely the wine is being emptied and with one last sip, you throw the cup away by the lake, watching it sink for a moment before taking a deep breath. "Happy lantern rite, Guizhong."
You didn't leave right away. You just sat there, humming a tune you haven't for so long as your eyes fixed on the scenery in front of you, waiting for the night to come as time slowly passed by. As you did, you can't help but look back of the memories of yesterday not so long ago.
"They're at it again." You said with a chuckle as you sat down next to your friend and lover whom too were watching the scene with interest. "You're not going to join?" Your lover, Rex Lapis asked, and you shake your head. "One thing I learned over the past few decades is that I can't win against Guizhong when it comes to mechanisms." You chuckle and shrug, eyes boring to your lover who never looked at you, those amber iris never once looking away from the goddess of dust.
"Those were the good old days, I suppose?" Just like that, a bitter smile left your lips. "Heh." Good old days, huh. Thinking about it gives you mixed feelings. Nevertheless, the warmth it gave your heart was enough for you to call it good memories.
Before you knew it, the once bright sky was now filled with stars. Only then did you realize you have long stopped humming. Getting up from your seat, brushing off the dust in your clothes. It was now time to leave.
"You know. I never hated you." You spoke as you give her resting place one last glance. "In fact, I could never." You chuckle. "Goodbye, Guizhong." With a genuine smile on your lips. You walk away and never look back. Ascending down from the mountains, you can't help but admire the bright harbor from afar.
"Now, now. Where should I go?" You whispered and asked yourself. It was too early for you to leave, you still have a few hours for you to kill time. And as much as you wanted to go to the harbor yourself. As the other adeptus were currently in there, your presence might just spoil the mood so you'd rather not come. It was okay seeing the city from afar.
Suddenly, a place came into mind. Without missing a beat, you made your way at the place. It was such a good timing, after all, the current conquer of demons is currently away in the inn. That place was a good place for sightseeing after all. A good place to admire Liyue and waste time until your departure. Or so you thought.
"Aren't you going to the city?" "Old foes are in there, I'd rather not." You chuckle helplessly as you turn around. There a certain adeptus you thought won't be here have arrived. "Well then, now that you're back, I should get going before I ruined your night." You bow politely, something a mere mortal would do in front of him nowadays.
Walking past him, you did not expect to be stopped, having him grabbed you gently by the wirst. "Adep-" "It was an accident." He spoke before looking at you, meeting your (eye color) iris. You blink, gently prying off his hand away from you before you take a step back. "Right, but that doesn't change the fact that I was the one with her when she died." You give him a small smile. "I should get going."
"Why do you keep running away?" He sounds frustrated that you almost look back, but you didn't. But you did stop walking when you're about to walk out the door to the top floor where he was always at. After all, Yaksha was never the one to initiate a conversation, let alone an outburst. By his question, you can't help but to let out a chuckle, "Running away, heh. That's an interesting way to put it when I was the one that was left alone."
Realizing what came out of your mouth, your (eye color) iris widen as you cover your mouth with your hands. "I said something I shouldn't have." You took a deep breath and eventually dropped your hands to your side. "I apologize." You said with a sigh as you look back at the green haired adeptus whom had his eyes looking at you wide upon, probably because of what you just said a couple moments ago. "I'll take my leave now." This time, you really did leave.
Finding yourself back on top of the high peeks of Liyue, you casually lean back at one of the statues of seven, your back meeting with cold stone it was made out of, sending shiver down your spine. Still, your mind wandered off the little interaction you had with the fellow adeptus earlier. Just like that you let out a sigh.
You honestly didn't want to be seen by your fellow adeptus. Not because you'll be leaving without a word, but because of what happened in the past that each of you can't seem to forget.
Guizhong was a very bright, extrovert, and genius being. You can see she was always the center of everyone's attention. Maybe that was the reason why even Morax can't seem to look away from her. Maybe it was the reason why she always felt a bitter taste on your mouth. Because whenever she was on sight, Morax, Rex Lapis, your lover never looked at you.
"They're at it again." It was a strong sense of deja vu but this time, it wasn't you who was speaking, it was one of the adeptus, the cloud retainer speaking as the two to you look at the near distance. Rex Lapis and Guizhong alongside the rest of the Yaksha. It was a heartwarming sight, to be honest. But it did nothing but ache in your heart as you see Marshall Vritras give Guizhong and Rex Lapis a new pair of clothes. It looks like matching with each other.
"I'm going ahead." "Already?" "I wasn't feeling very well nowadays." You chuckle. That was the truth. Nowadays, it felt like someone was sucking your energy out of you. You get easily tired nowadays, and today might be one of those days. "Should I call Rex Lapis?" As she stood up, you grab the hem of her clothes. "Don't, leave him be. I can go back on my own. Just tell him I went ahead." You smile gently at her.
With one last at your lover, you bid your farewell at cloud retainer and quietly make your way back to your lair. It wasn't that bad at first, the as you walk and walk, the more you felt like everything was spinning, the grounds felt shaking, or was that you slowly loosing you strength all over you body? "Wha- what.. In the.." Before your body fell on the ground, you felt a small arms capture your figure. "(First name)?!" That voice was familiar, familiar enough to bring you back to your senses.
"Gui..zhong?" You utter in disbelief, she was just with the other not long ago, what is she doing here? "I've seen you leave not feeling very well, I decided to follow you and-" "Tsk. Another one to ruined my plan." Both of you turn to the uninvited guess, another God. It feels like you've seen him somewhere. That.. Where have you seen him? Before you knew it, an attack was launched at the two of you.
It was hard. You knew the two of you don't stand a chance. You're slowly losing your senses, you're not in the condition to fight in the first place and as you pant, looking at Guizhong right beside you. She was as wounded as you were, blood dripping down her temple all the way to her chin. "R-run." You utter.
This time, she was looking at you in disbelief. "Do you think you're in the position to say something like that?! You won't be able to hold him back!" "He was coming.. coming for me ha- in the f-first place." You pant heavily. Just like that, you heard a sinister laugh from the god in front of you. "That's right. I'm glad you're well aware (First name)." So it was true, it was really after you. "Guizhong... Run."
"That's right, you two can't take me. Why don't you go and ask the others for help and leave (First name) here for me. Don't worry, we'll only talk." "Like I'll believe that!" "You should. Do you even know why they're in a state like that? It's because they hate you." "What non-" "What shit are you saying?!" You shout all of a sudden, (eye color) iris shaking.
"You don't know? Were you really not aware of it? Aren't you just wondering why you're running out of energy nowadays? Why do you think was the reason?" "You-!" "It's because of your hatred and jealously." As the god in front of you laugh, your (eye color) iris shook even more. No, no. No no no no no. It's nothing like that. That's not it. There is no way in Celestia he was able to suck your energy away because you're what, angry and jealous? How pathetic!
"Come to think of it, isn't they God the reason for all of it?" By those words, you felt like you're drench in cold water. "Isn't she the reason why you and Rex Lapis rarely get along nowadays?" "What nonsense are you saying?! We're nothing but friend-" "Isn't that right, (First name)?" No I- you- I... "(First name)?" They shaky voice of Guizhong snapped you out of it. "No- I.. I don't-" "HAHAHAHA See? They can't even reply properly!" "Shut up! Don't confuse them any longer!"
"You know me and Rex Lapis were just friends, right? Right (First name)?" She spoke gently. But at your (eye color) iris met those bright ones of hers. You can't help but look down and utter. "I'm sorry." You knew they were friends, heck. You knew that, and it disgusts you to think there is something more. You never felt so broken, confused, disgusted, and pathetic to yourself all your life. "I'm sorry." You utter once again, this time, tears where pooling in those (eye color) iris. "I'm sorry."
"I'm sorry." You don't long for how long were you saying that but you kept on saying anyway. "It's alright." You heard a quiet yet genuine chuckle. "It's alright. You don't hate me, right?" She smiled brightly at you. But before you can even reply. A blinding attack cane towards the direction of you two. Only then did you realize, you've been distracted for awhile now. And before the attack reach you. You one again felt an arm wrapped around your figure. "Close your eyes, (First name)"
Looking at the city afar, you blink. Then you look up. It seems like you've taken a nap. Your shoulders were cold and stiff, so you stood up and stretched your arms and back. Then you halt. "Alatus." You sigh, looking back to see the green haired adeptus once again.
"You're leaving." "Heh? Where did you get that idea?" "Why are you leaving?" "You didn't answer my question, so I have the right not to answer your question too." "Fine. I just have the feeling." "Hmm. Why am I leaving? I just want to travel." "Don't." "Why?" You raise a brow. "Everything is fine right now." That is the truth.
"I'm just leaving Liyue, I'm not going somewhere far away." You added. "Then I'm going to get going now, I had a quick nap so-" "I told you it was just an accident, when will you stop blaming yourself-!" "That doesn't change the fact that she died because of me, okay? Besides, that's surprising coming from you. She was your esteemed master after all-" You stopped and sigh. You've said too much once again.
"I'm going to tell Morax." "Then tell him." As if he'll do something, you almost scoff but held it in. "No one has ever blamed you for what happened." "Really, Xiao? Did you honestly forgetten?"
A harsh slap across the face made you turn to your side. It hurts, but you didn't dare cry. You deserve this. "You-! You-! I can't believe you!" "That's enough." The Cloud Retainer eventually restrain Streetward Rambler from laying a hand from you again. "Enough??! Enough?! It is all because of them that Guizhong died! All because of what? All because of them being envious?!" "I'm sorry." You clench your jaw. "I'm sorry."
"I wish it was you who died." You don't know, perhaps you don't want to know who said that as you flinch. "Rex- where is Rex Lapis?" You asked, never once looking up. You haven't seen your lover ever since then. "Who knows? Maybe he doesn't want to see you for what you did?" Once again you flinch. "We were just doing fine without you, even before. If you aren't Rex Lapis lover, I wouldn't have approached you in the first place."
Looking away from Xiao, you sigh, rubbing your temples. "That-" "Enough. I'm not changing my mind. It's much better this way. Besides, even without me, you'll be fine." Just like that, you disappeared from the conquer of demons' sight.
When you teleported into a familiar place you haven't been for a long time, you didn't expect to see him there, he should be around the city somewhere after all.
You couldn't help but stare at his back. You haven't seen him for so long. So you didn't expect to see him in the place where the two of you first met, of maybe it was just place to him.
As you were about to leave, about to teleport away. Your (eye color) iris met with a pair of amber ones. You couldn't move. Morax, he looked the same as he has always been. "I- I was just passing by." "I see." He replied like it was nothing, maybe it was nothing. So why is he looking at you like that?
"I'll get going then." You spoke and turned around. As you did, you felt his glaze upon your back. Then you stopped. "Morax." "I go by Zhongli nowadays." "Yeah, I've heard." You bit your lips. "But this question is for Morax, not for the mortal Zhongli." "I see." There was a moment of silence as a harsh wind breeze passed by. "Morax." "What it is?" His voice was soft as always, like the good old days.
"Morax, did you ever love me?" You asked the question you've been dying to ask for a long time now. And yet, as moments passed by, there was nothing but silence it makde you laugh. "I see, so that's how it is." You smile bitterly.
"I should get going now, thank you for your time." You spoke before you continue to walk away from him. "Oh, and Zhongli. You'll do just fine without me. Like always."
As you glance back at him, and for a moment, you wish you never did. Because as soon as you did, he was looking with eyes wondering what were you up to, those amber iris wondering why you even asked him of such question. Those amber iris looking at you with such affection as it did in the past. But perhaps that's just you. Because as you walked away like you did in the past, he never chase after you. Like he never loved you.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2023°
Edit: part two
2K notes · View notes
dxstopiaa · 1 year
Text
Impetous Injuries
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Synopsis: Caring for an irresponsibly injured man was not on your plan for today, so why was he at your door?
Characters: Morax, Xiao, Childe and Scaramouche x Fem! Reader!
Warnings: Zhongli as an archon and Scaramouche as fatui again, Childe’s part has angst/comfort. description of injuries and trauma. ♡´・ᴗ・`♡ [i needed to post something sfw and clear my drafts! <3]
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Morax
It wasn’t every day that you’d hear the hasty pummel of closed fists against your front door and even rarer was it to witness one of the Seven requesting for your help— a meagre goddess who tried to live a tranquil, joyous life to the best of her ability.
“I fear i may of overestimated myself, dear.” Morax’s throaty voice could be made out from behind the door, notably lower in volume. Neither was this the first time, yet something felt different than usual. Of course, the archaic god was prone to injury in battle, but upon opening the door, he was more maimed than you had thought.
Brunette strands of hair plastered to his chest and forehead—covered in elemental ichor and sweat. His limbs were littered in a spectrum of wounds, bruises and incisions alike. His robes of ivory reduced to scraps of crimson-dyed fabric, blood from who knows where drenched his torso.
In short, you were responsible for an Archon who had gotten himself too deep into bloodlust. As always. Your lips pressed together before you let out a displeased hum. You just wished he would of cared for himself better.
“Morax…are you even aware of the severity of your injuries? Thank Celestia no one had attacked you on the way here!” You scolded, arms crossed as an attempt to look irked enough for the irresponsible man to come to his long-lost senses.
Though to him, you just looked adorable, he had always been fond of your gentle heart in the midst of a war. Therefore, Rex Lapis knew you valued him too much to leave him isolated in the dangerous depths of the night, entering your abode and placing a bloodstained hand on your pretty face. You didn’t grimace from his touch.
“I’m truly sorry, but you’re the only one i can trust with healing, my goddess.” You felt your knees buckle at the endearment, rather embarrassed that such a high-status being was addressing you as superior. He just never learns, does he?
“Please stop the flattery, my Lord. Instead, follow me so i can actually treat you.” Another exasperated sigh from your lips, you gently held his finger and guided him to the steaming bath, collecting all relevant tonics and herbs in your store room and returning back to the wounded god.
Your heart lept in your chest seeing this he was, quite literally, already fully undressed. Oh, so shamelessness was another quality he lacked? It most certainly didn’t help that he could barely even fit his tall frame into the jade tub, glowing aureate arms casually resting on the outskirts of the container. You felt your mind begin to wander as did your trail of vision.
“Ah, my injuries are starting to sting slightly—Hm? What has you so timid?” Morax’s tone felt unfamiliar to you, seeing the God of contracts so relaxed might of stunned you beyond repair. You dismissed yourself, dampening a medicated towel and wiping it gently over his chiseled chest—as calmly as one could in such a predicament.
Grunts and groans followed with some obscenities of his at the stinging serums painted your cheeks scarlet. Genuine or not, you didn’t think you could hold your composure for another minute. Even worse— the youthful archon wouldn’t remove his piercing critical gaze from your face, analysing every single movement in your expression.
“Admire me and my lips all you’d like afterwards, but i’m in a dire condition at the moment, dearest.”
“It’s not like that, Morax! Halt such talk and stay quiet whilst i treat you! Please!”
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Xiao
Stubborn.
The quality that the Yaksha had always been described as. Especially by you. Yet he never listened to your pleads to let you help him.
Xiao hesitantly loitered around the door to your estate, a gloved hand lingering on the doorknob for longer than it should have. He’s been doubting his feelings of just ‘friendship’. He’s seen human couples— so loving and expressive it squeezes his heart in a manner so painful, you deserved better than a man who didn’t even think to enter your home, so he discarded his thought.
Especially one who would turn up with blood around his clothes, a deep wound on his side too.
Just as he contemplated leaving, the wooden barrier inched open. You held a miniature basket, a lengthy list in the other. Xiao was keen to disappear at that moment. Despite this, you were quick to drop them both to encase the adeptus in a tight embrace.
“Xiao!” An excited exclamation from you as you rested your cheek against his shoulder. Had you noticed his injuries at all, or was it pure blinded excitement to greet him? Crimson still trickled down his abdomen, but you had wrapped your arms around his waist.
A surge of pain and discomfort flashed through his body— he couldn’t stop the loud gasp he let out when your arm grazed his injury.
“Agh!” Xiao cried out, causing you to recoil back into place upright upon the doorstep. Your delicate features morphed into a state of horror whilst he stumbled back. Your sleeves were coated with vermillion fluid, eyes fluttering to the yaksha’s expression and back to your stained clothing.
“This isn’t anything major, i’ll leave myself to treat it—” You barely let the usually vigilant adeptus finish his sentence before grabbing his wrist and pulling him close gently, barricading him from vanishing into a flurry of karmic debt.
“No. I can’t let you go until you’ve recovered well, you can barely walk upright Xiao!” You smoothed your thumb over his cheek tenderly, distracting him that you were, in fact, taking him inside into the safety of your abode.
The adeptus’ face was warm— tentatively watching your own lips so close to his. Your kindness was irreplaceable, your heart was too soft for his liking, but he’s never once felt unwelcome in your presence. Xiao had witnesses the false sympathy humans showed off towards him, yet you’ll always be willing to listen.
Now you’re treating his wounds? Why are you doing this?
“I’m running out of my medicine, i’ll visit Bubu Pharmacy later, just have these now, please?” You offered, suddenly noticing the flush over his cheeks. Maybe he has a fever too? He accepted the concoction of herbs, hesitantly consuming the mixture. Xiao, having noticed your obvious staring at his chest, shifted around in his seat.
“Xiao…?” Archons, he just looked so anxious it’s endearing, you’d hate to push him from his comfort zone but he hasn’t got much of a choice.
“Yes?”
“You’re going to have to…remove your shirt—” You meekly stated, ashamedly hanging your head down at your lap as he cleared his throat numerous times. That just sounded so disrespectful! What if he took it the wrong way? You resided within the embarrassing realm of overthinking.
“As you wish, but be quick, i’d rather not have you ogling me.”
“I do not!”
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Childe
Two in the morning.
That was the time your beloved decided to show up— weak, timid thumps of his open palm across the wooden barrier. Childe knew he had already messed up, clenching his jaw with anxious anticipation. What would you say? Yesterday, tired tears flowed down your cheeks. It hurt him to leave his care in your hands rather than his own. Would you do anything at all? Would you leave him lonely in the cold?
The harbinger’s questions were answered for him. Your body slumped over, distress tugged at your eyebrows. You stared at every injured limb of his.
Merciless splotches of the infamous crimson liquid matched his scarf, ripped and loosely tied against his thigh. A tourniquet, ideal for hiding the severity of the injury below it. His bruised skin was as lifeless as the pale snow cascading to the floor, where his eyes stayed put. A classic snezhnayan man fitting right into his war-strife homeland. If it wasn’t his own blood, it was the metallic scent of other’s. The unpleasant smell was overpowering, that migraine of yours worsening and nausea invading your stomach.
You remained blank and wordless, firmly securing one of his least injured arms over your shoulders and guiding him to the armchair. Childe hated seeing you like this— yet he never changed his ways. He didn’t know what hurt more, the pre-assembled medical kit laying on the side cabinet, or the two cold dishes set upon the dining table that went uneaten from hours ago. He messed up, for sure.
“Darling…Please, say something.” Tartaglia breathily beseeched, clasping a wounded hand over yours. You shook him off. You yourself didn’t know what you were feeling. Shock? Well, this was the third time this week, so no. Hurt? Something deeper than that.
“Say what? Childe, you just never learn!” Your sudden outburst made him flinch, and your heart panged with guilt—yet it was never strong enough to overcome your fury.
“Two days ago you arrived with major burns, the next with a broken wrist and today barely making it alive? Tomorrow will you even come back to me? Or will your coworkers deliver me your death instead?” Your tears swelled up in your eyes, distracting him from you by pressing the antiseptic towel against his stab wounds.
Childe hissed, unsure if the sting was from your harsh words or from the medication. His heart felt as if someone had squeezed it tight, the truth pained him to hear, especially from his wife’s mouth. He had kept you up for so long, losing your rest and throwing you into an abyss of constant worry. He deserved it. How could he ignore you?
“Love, i’m so sorry, i beg you, you can do anything to me. Ignore me, hate me or punish me for all i care, just don’t leave me alone…please.” His cerulean eyes held no lies, staring into your distant ones with desperate longing.
He clinged onto your torso, near sobbing into the crook of your neck. The frantic nature of his words broke your trance, anger dissipating with each tear of your own. Soon enough, your arms instinctively raised to wrap him in your embrace. Staying infuriated with him was futile.
His half-conscious pleads ceased as he calmed down, exhaustion catching up to the young Harbinger. You combed his matted tresses with your fingers, pressing a chaste kiss to his forehead to lull him into comfort.
“I’m sorry, Childe, just take better care of yourself, okay?” You reassured, his confirmation in response felt real this time. He rested his heavy head in your lap, enjoying the warmth of your hand on his cheek.
Your husband wouldn’t give up your company for the world—if he had to cease his pursuit of strength for you, he’d do it in a heartbeat.
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Scaramouche
“What, are you just going to stand there staring at me? Let me in.”
A rude introduction from an even more arrogant man. Scaramouche stood lazily upright at the entrance to your estate, somehow expecting you to take him in your arms and nourishment. Expecting you not to question him. Too bad you did just that.
“Yes, i will. Care to explain why you’re here?” You scoffed in an equally aggressive manner. Your eyes trailed up his legs and waist, exposed and bruised— if that was possible for a puppet. Nothing spilled from said wounds, but the Harbinger discreetly winced from the pain. He remained there silent, opting not to share any details.
“Shut up, this isn’t my fault.” Scaramouche almost yelled, his unexpected outrage igniting irritation through your body.
Oh? You clenched your teeth together in frustration. Your grasp on the doorknob was deathly, you were in no mood to deal with his attitude nor his own problems. “Then this isn’t my concern.”
And with that, you forced the door shut— well, as far as you could. Scaramouche pushed the door open with his foot and arm, a look of disbelief and confusion gleamed in his eyes. How dare you? Those words he wanted to spit at you, but all that fell was a single word.
“Wait!” The harbinger exclaimed, forcing his way through the gap in door. He couldn’t believe himself. First, he dared to show up to your house and now he’s begging for your help? He felt pathetic, truly.
Resistance was pointless against him. Letting your ex-boyfriend back into the very same house he’d swear he’d never step into again. But being ruthlessly ignorant was his characteristic, not yours. Scaramouche had obviously forfeited whatever ego he latched onto— you weren’t that cruel as to leave an injured man by himself.
“I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn’t of been so blunt.” His head, for once, was inclined towards the wooden floor, indigo eyes barely meeting yours. It was an apology nonetheless. “I mean, for everything, even for how i acted before.”
Scaramouche was…genuine? Bewilderment accumulated within your judgement, your heart softened. You knew this feeling— you knew you shouldn’t be feeling sympathetic for the harbinger you used to love so dearly, the man who left you without a valid answer. It couldn’t be helped.
The more that Scaramouche longingly gazed at you, the more he desired to be kept in your arms just like he used. His cold exterior melted away like treaded snow, instead your footsteps trampled over it. He couldn’t justify the guilt-ridden sensation plucking away at each inch of his body. He found himself on that day, emotional, again.
Scaramouche doesn’t act like this. Kunikuzushi does.
If he had to surrender his dignity to take you back as his, he’ll do it, just this once. His fingers, still blistered and scarred from earlier yet appearing so delicate on his porcelain skin grazed your jaw. Soft touches and gestures lulled him into safety within your embrace. An action he missed far too much.
Kunikuzushi latched tightly onto you in his mindless stupor of mental and physical distress, not coming to terms with he consequences of his behaviour later on. You found his conduct abnormal—  if it was fear of losing you again, or simple loss of informed conscious, you wouldn’t know.
Raised, superficial gashes of violet and burgundy littered his pained countenance. You never thought that wounds could look as pretty as his. Not a single tear was shed for a vessel such as he, but his grasp on you slipped once the puppet fell into a peaceful slumber.
With your heedful care and more ointments than preferred, he had recovered by the next morning and those surreal memories wafted back to him. Two sentences wavered in his mind.
“Don’t disregard my words from yesterday, i meant it. Whether you accept it, it’s up to you…”
“…If it results in less harm for you, i’ll listen to those words from my mouth thousands of times over.”
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huntershoe · 2 months
Text
Back to you
Hunter x Jedi!reader
Spoilers for the bad batch season 3 :)
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Summary: After a long time, you're finally reunited with your family and your lover.
Warning: Canon violence, Mention of mental and physical torture, slight depressing state, hurt/comfort. Fluff!
A/N: Let me know if anyone would like part two. I was planning on making it spicy ;}
Word count: 2.4k
Part two
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It's been months since you got a distress signal from one of your fellow surviving Jedi. Months since you managed to rescue your Jedi friend but sacrifice your own freedom. Months since you've seen your family and your lover.
The last thing you remember from when you were still with the batch was when you were all on Pabu, helping the people restore the beautiful ocean city while you were waiting to get any word from Echo as he helped Rex.
When the only thing missing was Crosshair.
You got the distress signal the same day Echo said he would visit. You knew you couldn't wait for your friend to visit, so with a tight hug, a long and loving kiss and a promise to return safely and quickly, you set the course for your Jedi friend.
Unfortunately, your plan wasn't Vader proof and you ended up captured, switching your place with your friend who managed to escape. You waited for your end, silently apologizing to Hunter and your family, but it never came. Instead, Darth Vader decided you would make a great addition to the imperial inquisitors, so they tried to break you, in every possible way.
For months, they tortured you mentally and physically, leaving you crying and barely alive at the end of every day. But you never broke, no matter what they did to you, you didn't break. There were times when it came close, but thinking of your batch and Hunter gave you strength to fight on.
So when the first opportunity to escape came, you took it. Doing everything in you capacity, even if it meant you'd have to tap into the dark side of the force. Your body had been weakened in the past months, your skin now covered in scars but that didn't stop you and you managed to escape, hijacking an imperial ship and running.
It seemed that even the force was on your side once you coincidentally run into Echo, Rex and the newly forming Clone resistance. But all your happiness disappeared once Echo informed you of the loss they suffered almost immediately you were gone. All those months, just the idea of coming back to your family and how everything would be perfect once again. Everything fell apart and you felt like you were once again in that cold prison cell, waiting for the inquisitors to torture you again. You were falling into the dark abyss, ashamed to even show yourself to Hunter and Wrecker.
It wasn't until Echo came looking for you, four days later. His body radiating happy energy as he practically jumped on you, hugging you and telling you that both Omega and Crosshair managed to escape and were now safely with Hunter and Wrecker on Pabu.
That made you hyperactive, filling you with energy and will to live and both you and Echo were in the ship only few hours later, crossing the galaxy to get back to your family once again.
Three days later you finally made it to Pabu, docking the ship at the top of the city. But while waiting for the ship to touch the ground in a matter of those seconds, your mind betrayed you. Suddenly all you wanted to do was to hide in the corner and dissappear, all those happy thoughts dissappeard, instead being replaced with dark and hateful thoughts. You imagined how Hunter must hate you now that you only returned once everything was alright again. How you dissappeard when they needed you the most. Maybe he's even blaming you for everything bad that happened to his family. Or maybe Omega's the one who hates you now, maybe she thinks that you betrayed them, leaving your family to help someone else.
Your whole body was shaking and you felt like you would faint and when the ramp finally began to descend and the sun shined on your face, Echo had to gently grab you because you swayed like a fragile flower in the wind.
Both you and Echo managed to take a few steps down the ramp before you heard a loud yell. Omega screamed yours and Echo's name, sprinting full speed at you, making you react the same. You yelled her name and she jumped in your arms as you quickly prepared to catch her, hugging her close to you as you began crying, peppering her face with kisses and petting her hair. You managed to crouch with Omega in front of you as you grabbed her cheeks and looked at her more closely, checking for any injuries as she cried telling you how much she missed you.
But as soon as Omegas eyes fell on your face her expression fell as well.
"What happened to your face!" Big tears began rolling down her cheeks as she looked at you. Similar to your body, your face was now littered with both small and big scars, some more visible than the others.
It's been months since you've seen Omega, the young female clone that had unexpectedly entered your life and become like a daughter to you. And after so long, you didn't want your scars to be the first thing you talk about, it was too dark subject to address in the first moments of reunion. So you moved your hands up to her hair, trying to change the subject to something happier.
"Look at your hair! It's grown so much!" You laughed through your tears as you played with the little girl's hair.
"I know, now you can finally braid my hair!" The young girl knew what your were trying to do and played along giggling as she mirrored your hands movements and played with your hair.
You were just about to respond when you both got interrupted by someone whispering your name. Your head snapped behind Omega, falling on a frozen figure, Hunter.
Your body went rigid, completely frozen in time when your eyes meet with his golden ones. Omegas eyes followed yours and once she saw Hunter standing there silently watching, she hugged you one last time before slowly removing herself from you and running towards waiting Echo.
Now that Omega was no longer in front of you, you stood up slowly, your eyes never leaving his as he watched your every move like he couldn't believe you were really there.
Your hands began shaking again and you grabbed your sleeves to try and stop them but to no avail.
"Hunter?"
You whispered back to him, taking a small step towards him. He said nothing, but his body moved and he was by you in the next second, his hands enveloping your body as his own crashed against yours. He squeezed you almost as hard as he could, fearing that if he wouldn't, you would've disappeared again. Hunter buried his face in your neck, inhaling your scent as your hands slowly stopped shaking and you moved them up into his hair. Your forehead fell on his shoulder as you finally closed your eyes, taking in his warm presence. You both stood there for a long minute, not moving as you both tried to soak in each other's warmth.
You felt Hunter deeply inhale once again, his breath tickling your neck, before his lips pressed against the same spot and he kissed you. Repeating the movement kissing up your neck, slowly coming to your face as his hands moved up to your neck, and his thumbs landed on your cheeks as his eyes found yours again. Hunter breathed out your name again, his face so close to yours.
"I thought I lost you..." His normally smoky voice sounded broken, quiet, like he was worried he would scare you away if he'd talk any louder. His own hands began to shake slightly as he gently turned your face around, his eyes jumping from scar to scar.
"Hunter, I'm so sorry. I tried to get back to you, I really did but they-" You tried explaining yourself as his eyes found yours again.
"When your ship returned I thought to myself at least I got one of my girls back...but then only General Prima came out and she could barely look me in the eyes to tell me what happened..." Hunter let out a sigh as his thumb traced the scar across your lips.
"...I thought I lost you and I couldn't bare to even think of what they're doing to you...I tried get you back every day, you and Omega..." He went on slowly and quietly, his other thumb tracing the scar across your eye.
"I'm so sorry Hunter-" You tried to apologise again but he interrupted you again with his thumb on your lips.
"Just...just promise me to never leave me again...I...I can't live without you." Hunter whispered as one tear left his eye and you moved your hand to his cheek, brushing it away as he leaned into your touch.
"I promise Hunter, never again." You nodded your head as you promised him, your own tears escaping you again and you moved your head, leaning your forehead against his.
Hunter let out a gentle puff of air, making your lips tingle as the air hit them. His own lips ghosting over yours as he whispered. "Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner ka'ra."
A small smile appeared on your lips and you gently nodded. "Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum ner ashi dul."
You responded and finally moved, pressing your lips against his into a long and loving kiss.
Hunter's hands moved back down to your waist and he pulled you closer again as his kiss turned more desperate.
Your own hands moved around his neck as you pulled yourself impossibly closer, a small sound escaping you as Hunters hand squeezed your hip and he took the chance to deepen the kiss. His tongue prodded against your lips as he entered your mouth in almost like urgent matter.
You let him take the reins and followed his tempo, enjoying the feeling of his arms around you again.
"Okay, you can continue doing that later! Now it's my turn!" You heard Wrecker before another set of arms snaked around you and Hunter, squeezing you even further and lifting you in the air. Both you and Hunter gasped, breaking the kiss to look at the gentle giant as he hugged you, leaning his head on your shoulders. You chuckled, grinning and squeezing one arm out and moving it to gently pat Wreckers head. "I missed you too Wrecker." Even Hunter managed a chuckle as he heard his brother sniffle quietly.
"We're never splitting ever again." Wrecker decided as he slowly put them down and brushed the tears from his eyes away. "Agreed." You nod, grabbing the giant clone's hand and squeezing it.
"What, no hug for me?" Crosshair's sly snake like voice asked as he came closer and crossed his arms in front of his chest an amused frown on his face. Your head turned in his direction and a wide smile grew on your lips and you gently let go of Wrecker and moved around Hunter, letting your hands to drag across his chest as you stepped closer to his youngest brother. "Crosshair!" You grinned and quickly moved closer to him, enveloping him into a big hug. Your movement surprised him greatly as he was expecting a glare and a witty remark instead you hugged him.
His arms were awkwardly waiting at his sides, debating if he should hug you back or push you away. Alas, you were the only one that hugged him so far and he'd be lying to himself if he'd say he didn't need a hug. So he let his arms slowly sneak around your body and he hugged you back, silently laying his head on top of yours.
"I'm glad you're back with us again." You whispered just loud enough for him to hear and you felt his breath hitch.
He slowly let go of you and stepped back a little, watching the scars across your face.
"Come on, you have to meet Batcher!" Omega gasped, grabbing your hand out of nowhere and pulling you towards what looked to be a  excited Lurca hound, running around and chasing Moon-yos. You chuckled at the enthusiasm of the little girl and looked back behind you to your lover and the rest of your family, only to see Hunter slightly glaring at Crosshair and Echo rolling his eyes and pushing the former Sergeant, encouraging him to move, while Wrecker only laughed and followed closely.
Omega managed to introduce you to the lively hound, telling you how she helped her and how they bonded over the time as they managed to survive the empire. Batcher seemed to be the perfect energetic pet for Omega as they began playing together, almost forgetting everyone else that was watching them.
You felt a warm hand on the small of your back and a moment later a warm body pressed against your side as Hunter lowered his head to whisper in your ear. "Come on, you must be starving." He pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead as you turned your head to look at him. "A little, yeah." You confirmed and Hunter motioned with his head to his brothers, before gently pushing you towards the house reserved for the batch.
Hunter whistled, making Omegas and Batchers heads turn, motioning them to follow too.
The shining sun had slowly began to descend as they sat down around the table after they put on some food. They snacked on the delicious fruits, talking about everything, just like they did in the old days, while they watched Omega and Batcher play.
The moment felt perfect, besides the one empty chair, remaining everyone that they will never be complete again. Everything else felt normal, Crosshair's witty remarks, Wrecker's compliments to the food, Echo trying to talk about another one of his missions and Hunter silently trying to listen to everyone as his hand slowly fell on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze to reassure you and himself that this moment is in fact real.
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Translation:
Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum - Mandalorian way of saying "I love you"
Ner ka'ra - My star
Ner ashi dul - My other half
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