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heich0e · 3 days

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keishin finally (finally) gets you into bed with him—well, onto couch with him, in his little one-room apartment in the back of sakanoshita mart—and he thinks all his prayers have finally been answered. thinks he's found some sort of cosmic apology for every misfortune he's ever suffered in how soft your lips are against his and how sweet you taste.

he knows he doesn't deserve this; that he hasn't done anything in his unremarkable life to merit how good you feel underneath his hands, or how dizzying those little noises you're making when he touches you are. but, against all odds, you're really here, you really want him, and he's determined not to fuck this up.

"keishin."

every time you say his name he feels like he's hearing it for the first time. like he's being blessed by it. it takes him a moment to process the way you've called for his attention as he suckles a little bruise against your throat, using every modicum of will he has left in him to pull away and meet your gaze.

you look so good underneath him on his ugly, ancient couch that it makes him ache. your lips glossy and swollen, your eyes heavy-lidded and yearning. you reach up and touch his cheek, and he can't tell if your hand is cool or his face is burning.

"do you have a condom?"

and all at once keishin comes crashing—violently, disastrously, crushingly—back to earth.

he blinks at you, wide-eyed, in the wake of your question. you seem to understand his answer even though he can't bring himself to say it.

"are there any in the shop?" you ask him, optimistic and gentle, with an encouraging smile.

keishin perks up—visibly brightening at your moment of genius—but as quickly as the hope uplifts him, he's deflating again. he pinches his bottom lip between his teeth.

"we're out right now," he murmurs sheepishly, suddenly unable to meet your gaze.

he only keeps a couple of boxes of condoms behind the counter at a time, since so few people ever come in asking for them. last week takinoue had showed up half-hammered two hours after closing, and banged on the shop door until keishin grumpily answered it. his drunk friend went on to explain that he'd gone out drinking with his colleague from work and she'd invited him home with her, but he desperately needed condoms. keishin chucked the last box at his stupid face, and yusuke swore up and down their next night out drinking would be his treat before skittering off into the night again with a grin from ear to ear.

he was going to kill yusuke with his bare hands the next time he saw him.

"keishin, it's okay," you say with a light laugh at the positively crestfallen look on his face. "we don't have to—"

"no!" keishin interrupts you before you can say the words he just cant bear to hear. not right now. not from you.

even if you promise him that this could happen again another time—that you don't have to go all the way tonight, that there will be other opportunities—he has no way of knowing if that's true. no way of guaranteeing it.

he's got a taste for you now. he knows what you sound like. he knows how you feel.

and he refuses to let this opportunity pass him by.

keishin pulls himself upright so quickly from where he'd been hovering overtop of you on his lumpy sofa that he almost gives himself whiplash. he stumbles up to his feet, brushing his bleached hair back from his eyes—he's not sure where or when he'd lost his hairband, but the strands are hanging freely now and falling into his gaze. he grabs his jacket from the floor where he'd hastily shucked it when the two of you stumbled through the door in the throes of passion.

"I'm just gonna run to shimada mart!" he says to you as he stuffs his arms ungracefully into the sleeves of his jacket, his words so frantic they're almost bleeding together. "it's only about 10 minutes away, if you just wait right here—"

"keishin."

"shouldn't be longer than 25 minutes! 20, even! i might even be able to get macchan to drive me back if—"

"keishin, wait."

your laughter makes him stop dead in his tracks, halfway to the door. he's only got one slide on his foot, the other still sock-clad, and in his haste he realizes he'd grabbed his television remote instead of his cellphone to shove into his coat pocket.

you've caught him by the sleeve of his jacket, holding the material pinched between your thumb and forefinger as you stare up at him from the sofa with the sweetest smile on your face. he's frozen as he peers down at you, his lips parted, his dick still half-hard in his jeans.

"don't go," you say to him, tugging him back towards you by your grip on his cuff. he moves easily, gravitating back into your orbit in spite of how gentle the actual pull had been.

"b-but,"—keishin casts a forlorn glance back in the direction of his apartment door—"what about the condoms?"

his voice cracks a little on the question and he has genuinely never wished so ardently for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

you release his sleeve in favour of twining your fingers with his now that he's near to you again, your soft hand slipping easily into his own. that same dull ache in the pit of his core (and between his legs) throbs again as you blink up at him.

"i've been trying to tell you," you begin, a bit exasperated but not without its own fondness. you hesitate a little, looking away shyly before adding, "we don't... need one."

keishin thinks he might die.

really, genuinely die.

he wonders if maybe this is what the old man felt like when he almost keeled over from that heart attack last year, because keishin's pulse is pounding so violently in his head he feels like his vision is going a bit spotty around the edges—like when you stand up too fast after a night of drinking.

he's brought back to the moment as your hand squeezes his own—a gentle, questioning gesture.

your lashes flutter as you blink up at him, your head tilting slightly to the side. you smile a little at the dumbfounded look on his face.

"...if that's okay with you?"

(keishin pays for takinoue's drinks for the next six months, but never explains why.)

#ukai x reader #ukai keishin x reader #hq drabble #hq writing #writing

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questioning049 · 2 days

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It's that time of the year again, time for another insane Susan theory

Ok, so everybody's been talking about Susan getting mentioned. Some have even pointed out the extreme amount of time they spent on her, and to clarify that her current state is unknown, almost like they are setting up her return.

Susan's mention gets more interesting when you take into account The 15th Doctor's fixation with being a completely unique being as pointed out in 'Space Babies'. Almost like if it's an idea setting up to be challenged later down the line.

Susan's mention gets EVEN more interesting when you take into account how the season has already explored a lot the theme of a young person suffering because of their absent parents. From The Doctor, to Ruby, to the space babies, etc. And Susan has missing parents, both in the sense that we have no idea who her parents are and because of The First Doctor (who acts as a surrogate father) infamously dropping her and promising he will return, something we all know he didn't really accomplish.

There's also this one recent interview with RTD where he talks about how The 15th Doctor will open up more about his lost family with Ruby and connect over that but maybe it doesn't mean anything idk.

He also talked about how in the series finale there will be a surprise actor making an appearance during a huge scene, and Russel goes to specify it isn't a celebrity cameo but someone they haven't credited or confirmed yet.

You can also bring up the fact that the big baddy being set up right now is The One Who Waits, and who is someone who waits who has been setting up to return? THAT'S SUSAN FUCKING FOREMAN

Now, I'm not saying that Susan is the one who waits because simply waiting isn't enough evidence, but there's clearly a connection going on around here.

So my theory is that Susan is coming back with a direct connection to The One Who Waits and it's probably really mad at The Doctor for leaving her (probably acting as a dark reflection of Ruby of what would happen if she overly fixates on those who left her), and she is being played by Carole Ann Ford.

But because that's not spicy enough, on top of everything I've said I'm going to drop a wild prediction and mention how for some reason we have no idea what's the name of the companion that Varada Sethu is going to play and that The Mirror has stated she will appear briefly during series 14.

The huge scene Russel is talking about is Carole Ann Ford regenerating into Varada Sethu, the latter one will go to play Susan Foreman II. I rest my case.

#susan foreman #ruby sunday #doctor who theory #doctor who #dr who #dw

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jellys-compendium · 23 hours

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I Want to Hold Your Hand

A Vergil x GN!Reader Drabble

Rating: General

Pairing: Vergil x GN!Reader Summary: In which a touch starved Vergil struggles internally with the urge of wanting to holding your hand. Word Count: ~1K Cw: adorable mutual pining, reader is mute, Vergil is so in love but he's too dense to realize it, pure fluff, and ooc Vergil I guess for those who don't like to see when he's written soft and vulnerable A/n: I love writing me some fluffy Vergil. Hope you all enjoy!

‘To see a World in a Grain of Sand

And a Heaven in a Wild Flower’

He pauses his reading. The half demon’s gaze rises from the page and latches onto the intricate symbols you expertly form in the air only a few meters away.

You are speaking with Nicoletta, bantering back and forth like friends do. Vergil’s not up to date on the conversation, but that doesn’t minimize his interest in your words in the slightest.

Vergil’s pale blue eyes secretly trace the delicate outline of your fingers as they move. They’re so fragile compared to his own, but looks are often deceiving. The half demon is well aware of the power those hands hold, and every time he watches you ‘speak’ he finds himself mesmerized, eager to learn the words they form.

Studying you closely, Vergil recognizes some of the signs and mentally matches them to the meanings drawn on the pages of the ‘Sign Language’ book he has secretly stashed in his nightstand.

‘demon…sword…what?’

Those are the only three words he can decipher. He glances at your face, searching for more clues. Your brows are furrowed and eyes questioning as you regard Nicoletta. The craftswoman smiles a toothy grin.

“Don’t you go on giving me grief now, it’s a brilliant idea and you know it!”

You huff, hands resting on your hips as Nicoletta dives headfirst into her explanation. Vergil’s gaze returns to his book before either of you catch him eavesdropping.

‘Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand

And Eternity in an hour’

Your phantom warmth still tingles in his left hand. Vergil frowns, subtly flexing the fingers resting on his thigh. He tries to focus on the next verse, but the words may as well be illegibly splattered on the page.

He can’t stop thinking about it.

‘Infinity in the palm of your hand’

Your hand…

He desperately wants to hold your hand again.

Vergil’s brows furrow as frustration builds and burns, piping hot on his tongue. He’s been trying to focus on just about anything other than you since this morning. Unfortunately, given the proximity you all suffered sheltering under the roof of Devil May Cry, this proved to be an impossible feat.

Despite his best efforts, every other second Vergil’s thoughts swim and tread through the waters of distraction as he replays that moment from this morning over and over again.

He had just returned from a mission when he ran into you and Kyrie a few blocks away from the Devil May Cry shop. Vergil acknowledged you both with a silent nod and was about to pass you by without so much as a single word, when you’d stopped him in his tracks.

“Where did you go?” Kyrie translated your signs.

Mildly irritated at having to rely on his son’s fiance to understand your words, Vergil responded.

“It’s none of your concern.”

He hadn’t meant for his words to sound cold, but certain habits had proved difficult for Vergil to break. Like usual however, you were completely unperturbed by Vergil’s prickly demeanor. Instead of sneering or shying away, you smiled and reached into your pocket for the notepad and pen that you usually carried on your person.

Vergil watched, silent and intrigued as you scribbled away for a few moments. Then, you ripped off the piece of paper, folded it, and closed the distance between the two of you.

The shock that had coursed through Vergil’s system when your right hand slipped into his nearly left him breathless. It was a touch that was so gentle and so warm, that it almost felt painful.

When was the last time he had been touched like this, so gently and without violence? Then again, when was the last time he’d even permitted such a thing?

A flash of a childhood memory long thought forgotten flashed through Vergil’s mind, and it was then that he realized with astounding clarity that it had been tragically, far, far too long.

You’d left him there in stunned silence, the heat left by your fingers like thorns in his hands. Piercing.

It took a moment for the half demon to collect himself. Once he managed to clear his mind, Vergil opened the private note you’d left in his palm.

It read,

I’m glad you’re back.

“ ‘It won’t work’ ” my ass! You’ll see, I’ll cook something up that will make Red Queen look like a toothpick.” Nicoletta boasts, pulling Vergil from his memory.

Impulsively, Vergil’s eyes trail along the folded piece of paper sitting between the pages of his book—his secret little memento–before glancing up at the two of you.

‘Bullshit.’

Vergil recognizes the sign immediately. It’s one you are quite fond of it seems.

Nicoletta rolls her eyes playfully at your response, the grin on her face a clear indicator that she is quite fond of your quips.

“Says you!” Nicoletta flicks some of the ash from her lit cigarette onto your boot. The silent sigh you exhale is visible to Vergil even from a distance. He watches as you shake your head before brushing the ash off your boot.

“Let’s see you call ‘bullshit’ after you see my next work of art. You’ll be eatin’ your words!”

Your hands rise into the air and Vergil feels another pang of perplexing longing wash over him. He’s itching to experience that softness on his skin again.

What would it feel like to have your fingers entwined with his? Would he hate or love the sensation of leading you by the hand to a quiet place just for the two of you? How would it feel to have you lead him?

But before he can truly digest these new thoughts and feelings, the couch cushions abruptly sink beside him. Vergil turns his attention to his left and Dante’s shit eating grin is the unfortunate sight that greets him.

“Think a book will hide you?” Dante teases. “You couldn’t be more obvious, dear brother.”

dividers by @/saradika

The poem quoted in this fic is Auguries of Innocence by William Blake

#vergil #vergil sparda #vergil dmc5 #dmc5 vergil #dmc #dmc5 #devil may cry #devil may cry 5 #dmc vergil #vergil x reader #vergil x you #x reader #jellywrites

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ramblingoak · 2 hours

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Peonies

Mushy May in Lucifer's Hollow: Day 13 - I Just Wanted To Hear Your Voice

Mountain x Rain

This fic is set in an alternate universe in a town called Lucifer's Hollow. It's sort of like a Satanic version of a Hallmark town. For Mushy May I'll be using the prompts to post little snippets of life for the humans and ghouls that live there 💙 Thank you to @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together!

~ In Lucifer's Hollow Mountain has a little farm and sells flowers at the local farmer's market. Rain meets him there while selling his art. ~

Warnings: none, sfw, 570 words (thank you to @ghuleh-recs for the dividers!)

His phone started ringing as soon as Mountain threw the truck into park.

“Shouldn’t you be schmoozing the crowd right now, duckweed?” He grabbed his wallet and the flowers before getting out. The art gallery was across the street and Mountain took a fortifying breath before beginning to cross. Fancy events weren’t his thing but he’d suffer through anything for Rain. “You there?”

“Yeah.”

Mountain frowned at Rain’s voice. It sounded off, quiet and wavering.

“Everything ok?”

“Sorry. I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“Hey, you don’t need to apologize for that.” He paused outside the building, peering into the windows to try and find Rain amongst the crowd inside. “Did something happen?”

“No, no, everything's ok. I promise.” Mountain heard Rain sigh and when he spoke again his voice was barely above a whisper. “I wish you were here.”

The guilt was immediate, gripping his chest like a living thing. Mountain had felt terrible about not being able to come with Rain. The water ghoul had gotten invited to display his work during an art show in a nearby town, his very first art show, but Mountain had needed to stay behind. Every year Lucifer’s Hollow had a huge community picnic and Mountain made more money that day then he did throughout the whole winter season. It wasn’t something he could miss.

He had spent his entire day there, selling bouquets and plants nonstop. Right up until Primo and Sunshine appeared, sending him home to change and get on the road. Mountain hadn’t wanted to at first, not wanting them to miss out on spending time with their own families but his friends had been insistent. He raced home to throw on the nicest jeans and flannel he had, quickly clipped some flowers and managed to make it to the art show right before it started.

“Yeah, about that,” Mountain pulled open the door to the gallery and strode in, his eyes scanning the crowd. It would probably be easier for Rain to find him amongst everyone. Even without his horns Mountain was nearly a head taller than anyone else. He was also sticking out like a sore thumb with how he was dressed but right now all he cared about was finding Rain. “Where are you?”

“I’m at the gallery.”

“Where in the gallery? I have a delivery for you.”

“What?” Mountain grinned when he heard the sound of a metal door creaking open, realizing that Rain had probably been hiding in a bathroom stall. “What kind of delivery?”

“Quit hiding and you’ll find out.”

Mountain ended the call, shoving his phone into his pocket and then fixing the bouquet up a bit. He had chosen peonies since they symbolize good luck. The only ones that were blooming were pink but it was the exact same pink that graced Rain’s cheeks when he made the water ghoul blush so they were perfect.

“Mountain?” He turned at Rain’s hopeful voice and his arms were immediately full of his boyfriend. Mountain buried his nose in Rain’s hair, inhaling his scent and then pressing as many kisses he could into the dark blue strands before Rain pulled away. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too, duckweed.” Mountain handed Rain his flowers, pleased to see his cheeks brightening. With his hands free he cradled those same cheeks in them, tilting Rain’s face so he could lean down and kiss him. “Me too.”

If you'd like to be added/removed from the tag list (or if I accidentally left your name off) of this fic or any of my others please leave a comment or send me a dm! Thank you 💙

My Masterlist ~ My Archive of our Own ~ My Ko-Fi Tip Jar

More snippets from this verse are on my masterlist under "Ongoing Series"!

Other Mushy May days: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12

#mountain x rain #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost band fanfic #nameless ghouls #mountain ghoul #rain ghoul #tales from lucifer's hollow #oakies' writing

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workersolidarity · 2 days

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[ 📹 A Palestinian photographer named Youssef Abu Al-Qumsan, laughing and joking with his brother just moments before, captures the moment of his brother's death when an Israeli occupation missile strikes the street where his brother is standing in the Nuseirat Refugee Camp, in the central Gaza Strip today. 📈 The death toll in Gaza rises again, now exceeding 34'971, including over 14'690 children and 10'000 women, with another 78'641 others wounded since Oct. 7th. ]

🇮🇱⚔️🇵🇸 🚀🚀🏘️💥🚑 🚨

MASS MURDER CONTINUES ON DAY 218 OF ISRAEL'S GENOCIDE, RAFAH CROSSINGS CLOSED STILL, PALESTINIANS STARVE AND A WITHDRAWAL FROM AL-ZAYTOUN

On the 218th day of "Israel's" ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the Israeli occupation forces (IOF) committed 4 new massacres of Palestinian families, resulting in the deaths of 28 Palestinian civilians, mostly women and children, and wounding at least 69 others.

It should be noted that as a result of the constant Israeli bombardment of Gaza's healthcare system, infrastructure, residential and commercial buildings, local paramedic and civil defense crews are unable to recover countless hundreds, even thousands of victims who remain trapped under the rubble, or who's bodies remain strewn across the streets of Gaza.

This leaves the official death toll vastly undercounted, as Gaza's healthcare officials are unable to accurately tally those killed and maimed in this genocide, which must be kept in mind when considering the scale of the mass murder.

According to an interview posted to the social media platform X by the Under-Secretary for Humanitarian Affairs, Martin Griffiths, for the United Nations Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) for Palestine, the closing of the Rafah Crossing, along with the closing of the Kerem Shalom crossing has "severed access" for the population of the Gaza Strip to fuel, supplies, the movement of humanitarian personnel, and also blocked sick and wounded civilians from being medically evacuated.

"The World Food Programme and UNRWA will run out of food for distribution in the South by tomorrow," Griffiths says in the interview.

Griffith goes on to explain, "that means that people will be left only with the aid that has already been distributed in their shelters, in their homes and on site."

"As of today, we have 12 bakeries supported by humanitarian partners here in South Gaza. Eight have ceased to operate due to lack of human stock, and four that are still operating at reduced capacity. We will be out of that stock by Monday," Griffith added.

The Rafah and Kerem Shalom crossings have now been closed by the Israeli occupation for the fifth consecutive day, preventing all aid and fuel from entering the enclave, while Palestinians suffer from continued extreme food insecurity, and the sick and wounded are prevented from accessing proper medical care outside the Strip.

Previously, the United Nations Secretary General Antonio Guterres called on the Israeli entity to reopen the crossings "immediately" to allow the free flow of humanitarian aid into the Palestinian enclave.

"Closing the two crossings at the same time is particularly harmful to the already desperate humanitarian situation, and they must be reopened immediately," Guterres is quoted as saying.

In the meantime, three mass graves have been discovered at the Al-Shifa medical complex, in the Al-Rimal neighborhood of Gaza City, which continue to be excavated, resulting in the recovery of approximately 80 decomposing bodies from the courtyard of the medical center.

According to local medical sources quoted in the Palestinian media, the sources explained that more than 520 bodies of murdered Palestinians have been recovered from a total of 7 mass graves found at hospitals across the Gaza Strip, including those found at Al-Shifa in Gaza City, Nasser Medical Complex in Khan Yunis, and Kamal Adwan Hospital in Beit Lahiya.

In interviews conducted with civil defense and recovery crews, sources pointed out that the "visual examination of the bodies exhumed from the mass graves showed that the majority belonged to patients who were deprived of receiving medical care."

"We found bodies torn apart by Israeli army vehicles running over the martyrs' bodies, and we found heads without bodies in the mass graves in the yards of the Shifa Complex," the sources added.

In other news, a Commander with the Palestinian Resistance reported that the Israeli occupation army has partially withdrawn from the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, southeast of Gaza City, in the vicinity of the Al-Zaytoun clinic, following intense confrontations with Resistance forces in the area.

In an interview with Lebanese media outlet Al-Mayadeen, the commander told reporters that the Palestinian Resistance factions had repeatedly targeted IOF soldiers stationed near the Al-Zaytoun clinic with anti-armor missiles and mortar fire.

He explained that occupation Merkava tanks had been redeployed near the Dawlah intersection on Salah al-Din Street, south of the Al-Zaytoun neighborhood, adding that aerial bombardments and artillery shelling are ongoing in the area.

Elsewhere, the Commander stressed that the area surrounding Al-Madaris Street in Deir al-Balah, in the central Gaza Strip, has been completely and utterly destroyed.

Meanwhile, the Israeli occupation continues to target civilians across the Gaza Strip, killing them in their homes, firing missiles into residential apartment buildings, and generally carpet bombing entire neighborhoods.

A series of occupation airstrikes last night hammered the town of Al-Zawaida, in the central Gaza Strip, resulting in the deaths of no less than 26 Palestinian civilians, with the vast majority of victims being women and children.

Local medical sources said 26 civilians were killed following Israeli airstrikes which targeted the residential homes of the Al-Khatib and Al-Lawh families in various neighborhoods of Al-Zawaida.

Simultaneously, Zionist warplanes bombed tents housing displaced Palestinian families in the Al-Zawaida area, killing a further three civilians and wounding a number of others.

Similarly, Israeli occupation forces intensified their bombing and shelling of the northern and southern neighborhoods of the city of Rafah, Gaza's southernmost city, slaughtering at least 12 Palestinians over the last day.

Medical personnel at the Kuwait Specialized Hospital, in central Rafah, said the bodies of 9 civilians arrived at the hospital torn into pieces following a series of airstrikes targeting a house belonging to the Al-Hashash family, in the Oreiba (or Areeba) neighborhood, northwest of the city.

Local medical staff added that another Israeli occupation bombing of a residential house in the Brazil neighborhood, south of Rafah, resulted in the deaths of three additional civilians, who were also transferred to the hospital.

Additionally, the bombing of the Israeli occupation army targeted a group of civilians gathered in the Al-Salam neighborhood, east of Rafah City, martyring another four innocent civilians.

Further occupation bombardments targeted a gathering of civilians in the Ezbet Abd Rabbo neighborhood, north of Gaza City, resulting in several casualties.

As a result of the Israeli occupation's ongoing special genocide operation in the Gaza Strip, the death toll among the Palestinian population now exceeds 34'971 civilians killed, including over 14'690 children and 10'000 women, while another 78'641 others have been wounded since the start of the current round of Zionist aggression, beginning with the events of October 7th, 2023.

May 11th, 2024.

#source1

#source2

#source3

#source4

#source5

#source6

#source7

#source8

#source9

#videosource

#graphicsource

@WorkerSolidarityNews

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wri0thesley · 2 days

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He kisses you, always, like he’s afraid it’s the last time he’ll ever get to.

It’s strange, too; because you can remember at the beginning of your courtship, when Diluc was still aware he was the only Ragnvindr left to carry on the name, and he was unsure of everything. That he had left Mondstadt at eighteen and spent the years after battling through harsh climes and conditions, with nothing to warm him but the blaze of his conviction. When he had first come back to the place of his birth, when he had squared his shoulders and breathed hard through the mantle of fear, and he had once more taken up the post of Master of Dawn Winery.

Those days of careful courtship, Diluc had treated you like he could not believe your existence; like you were a butterfly perched on a cecilia, or a particularly skittish horse. Like something easily breakable, that could at any moment decide he was not worth it. His hands had shook, when he had given you beautiful bouquets he had gruffly informed you he had cultivated himself. He had not quite been able to look you in the eye, when he had taken your hand that first time - his own so hot, even through his gloves, you had covertly tried to see if his vision was glowing without him realising it.

And that first kiss--

An awkward clash of tongues and teeth, of Diluc almost seeming like he wanted to pull away until you had wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in closer, to reassure him that the kiss he was partaking in was something that was very much wanted.

He has gotten better at kissing. He has been like some prince in a fairytale, you think, though you’d never express the thought aloud to him; Diluc would flush violently, would demur the comparison, and somehow you know it would get back to Sir Kaeya what you had said and the Cavalry Captain would never let him live it down. Now, he takes your chin in his hand - his crimson eyes meet yours, and a smile tugs at the very corners of his lips, and he leans in so close you can smell the scent of smoke and lampgrass that clings to his person, the cecilia oils that suffuse his shampoos and conditioners.

And then he kisses you.

And if the kiss is as you’d said - like he worries it will be the last time he will be able to kiss you - you do not say a word. It is not so much that it is a fight, nor is it that Diluc is clumsy with the way he touches you. It is merely that desperation leaks through in every movement; the echoing beat of his heart seems to say please do not leave me, please, please stay with me forever. He wants to learn the feel of your lips, the shape of your mouth, the sensation of your waist against his palm when he holds you against him.

And you know why, too. You know about the middle of the night - Diluc stirring beside you, kissing you on the forehead when he thinks you are still asleep. Diluc’s quiet dressing, the sound of your bedroom door shutting - and the knowledge that Mondstadt will be safe tonight, even if Diluc is not.

You know about the whispers that follow Diluc; about the things he was doing, when he was not properly tending to the Winery. You know about the shadows that fall over Diluc’s face when he dwells too long on memories of Crepus Ragnvindr, that seem to cloud over happy memories of his father. You do not know about Diluc, landing the killing blow on his father himself, if only to save him the suffering - but you know there is more to the story than anyone but he knows. Diluc thinks you would hate him for it - of course, you wouldn’t, but it is hard for him to marry the thought of sword slicing into the man who raised him and the knowledge that when his father looked him in the eye, he wanted Diluc to do it.

You know about the bounty on his head, if he were to ever set foot on Snezhnayan soil again. You know that he has brought himself the ire of powerful enemies - and though he may be the uncrowned King of Mondstadt, though your little pastoral nation would stand beside him, it is nothing really compared to the finances of Snezhnaya, the churning war machine of the Fatui.

So when he kisses you, as fiercely as anybody has ever been kissed, you kiss him back. You let your arms wrap about his neck as they once did what feels like a hundred years ago; you let your fingers tangle in the crimson strands of his hair. You try to commit him to memory; the feel of his muscles shifting beneath his jacket, the way his breath warms your lips, the soft grunt of surprise and pleasure if you tug on the hair, just a little bit. The taste of fruit juice that lingers in his mouth. The sensation of being his; beloved of Diluc Ragnvindr, of knowing that the man you have joined your life to would die for you and kill for you and love you in a hundred different worlds.

And if he kisses you, like it is the last time he will ever get to--

Well. With Diluc, it always may well be.

But even so . . . it would be worth it.

#nat.txt #writing #diluc loveposting sorry #genshin impact posting #sfw

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reblog-house · 1 day

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A Little Catching Up

Written for Hermit-a-day-May, day 12: Friends of Hermits. Or: Lizzie! ALSO written for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 252, "Spill The Tea"

Wc: 1000

Ao3: Here!

It’d been a while since Lizzie last saw her husband in person, since he joined Hermitcraft. Good. That meant she was able to focus on other stuff that was on her mind. And it’s not like they never spoke, anyway.

At first, they called every day, but now it was every week or so, and every time she did, he had another story to tell. Apparently, there was something about… clones of himself? A murder mystery? A murder mystery about the clones of himself? Honestly, she stopped trying to disentangle that thing. She was happy not understanding and just hearing her husband ramble.

And then, Joel got the idea of traveling together in his brain — ‘To get some inspiration for my base, Lizzie’ — and she was more than willing to indulge him.

It was nice, getting to catch up properly, to spend some time together, before they each had to go to their respective servers. It was a much needed trip, and they got to see some very wonderful builds. She may not be pulling inspiration from it for her own creations, but she’d be lying if she said seeing all the views didn’t revitalize her a little.

It’d been less than a week since they parted ways and Lizzie was boiling a pot of tea when her phone rang. It was Joel.

“Hey babe,” she greeted, bringing the phone to her ear.

“Hey Lizzie, what are you doing right now?” He spoke very fast. “Because I want to tell you something weird and don’t want you to break something.”

“Eh, nothing special,” she said, and with her phone now supported by her shoulder, she picked up the kettle before it could whistle. “Hit me with it.”

“Remember how I told you Etho was obsessed with me?”

“Uh, duh.” She began pouring the liquid into her cup.

“Well, apparently there’s someone worse.”

“That’s possible?” She asked sarcastically. “Wow.”

“Lizzie. I came back to like seven love letters addressed to me, Lizzie. Seven anonymous love letters!”

Lizzie choked and her grip on the kettle got unsteady. It spilled a bit around the cup. “Oh, crap.” It could’ve fallen on her.

“I know, what the hell! And the worst part is, he was convinced we had something going on, because someone left a sign on his base pretending to be me!”

She openly laughed now, and set the kettle with a clank before the boiling water could drop on her. He continued his pleas.

“I’m married, Lizzie! To you! And when I told him I didn’t want anything to do with him that way, he sent me a poem. A poem, Lizzie!”

Lizzie was delighted. She picked the mug with both hands and walked to the living room with it as he spoke.

“Did he, now?” She sat back onto her favorite armchair and set the mug on the side table.

“And now!” He was quickly growing agitated. Not in a negative way. Joels needed some agitation for enrichment. An agitated Joel was a sign of a healthy husband. “The context is too complicated to explain, but now I’m stuck having to make an armor stand –”

“Oh, armor stands! Your shrine for me was adorable. And little you! Oh I could just squish his cheeks.”

“...Thank you Lizzie. Right. Now I have to make an armor stand of myself professing my love to him or whatever so he leaves me alone.”

“Ha! Oh Joel, only you.”

“Only me? Lizzie, have some compassion. I’m dying over here!”

“I don’t know…” She brought the mug to her face and checked the color. Still a couple more minutes before she could drink it. “That seems like a Joel problem to me.”

He groaned, and she could just imagine him covering his face with his hands in frustration. She loved seeing him suffer.

“Right, the worst wife. She doesn’t listen to my suffering. I’m doomed. I’m in pain and she doesn’t empathize.”

She laughed again. “Well, if I’m so horrible of a wife, I think it’s time to go, now! My tea will be ready any minute now.” And with the most cheerful of tones. “Bye Joel! Good luck with the number one fan!”

There was a little moment of silence, and when Joel spoke again, it was like he was a different person. All the acceleration left his voice and who remained was the man she’d know for most of her life, who she would take strolls along the beach with, who proposed to her, who she spent a wonderful time with on their most recent trip.

“Bye babe. It was nice talking to you. It’s… it’s been a strange few days. I think the trip made me realize how much I missed you.”

She melted a little and didn’t try to hide it in her voice. “Oh, Joel. I can imagine. I miss you too. It’s been three months now, since you joined. Can you believe that?”

“And yet it sometimes feels like the first week. Like I’m still very new to it all. It’s so strange. How has time passed that fast but also so slow?”

“Something only the ruler of Stratos would know.”

“What- that… doesn’t make any sense. Why would I from-”

“I love you Joel.”

“Love you too, Lizzie. Right, I have some projects to be working on. Not the stupid statue. I’ll postpone that as much as possible. Maybe one day I can sneak you in so you could see how my base is coming along. See how the trip has helped me”

“I would like that. Just be careful of Xisuma noticing me!”

“Don’t worry, I’ll bring you in when he’s offline. Okay, bye now.”

“Bye!”

And like that, she ended the call.

It truly was nice to see him having fun on his new server and making new friends. If unwanted love letters counted as a new friend. She chuckled to herself. The situations that man got himself into, sometimes…

But she loved him all the same.

#hermitaday #hermitfic #lizzie ldshadowlady #joel smallishbeans #fff252 #jizzie #shadowbeans #hermitcraft #hermitcraft season 10 #hc s10 #my writing

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siriuslygay1981 · 2 days

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Ugh...just thinking about Effie watching her boys suffer.

Her first child, her baby...dying before he can raise his own sweet child. So many life experiences taken away from him so young. She hurts thinking of all the years she got and all the years James couldn't have. James who had wanted something more, who didn't want to be an auror but had put aside his dreams to help the war effort. James her sweet brave boy. He wore his heart on his sleeve, his love all consuming. She couldn't shield him from the world, she hasn't been able to for years by the time she left...it didn't stop her from trying though. In the end his heart was what got him killed, she did not think about how that made her feel.

She feels deep sadness at seeing what Peter had become, once a sweet young boy helping her set up the table when the other kids were rough housing outside. She can't help but feel a burning hatred, not towards her Peter, her sweet Pete...but towards this person that wears her boys face. The young man who betrays friend after friend, the one taking lives...that's not her boy, not her petey. He gave her a handful of flowers on mother's day, his face pink. Her Peter held James up in the sidelines, when no one noticed James breaking down...Peter could. Peter who she taught family recipes to because besides James, Peter was the only other decent cook. She thinks back to the boy with wide blue eyes, freckles dotting his nose and his cheeks, his blonde hair just slightly too long. She remembers brushing it out of his face tenderly and telling her how proud she is of him. She knows he always felt like he was being left behind, like he didn't quite deserve the role he had in all their lives. To her, she lost Peter too. Maybe he was the first one she lost...

Remus whose suffered every month for years and has a bad view of himself because of prejudice. How could her smart boy be so so stupid. He was worthy of love and it pained her to see him hunch over, trying to hide himself. She watched as he gave himself to their headmaster, to use because he shared a kindness that no one else had shown him. She couldn't tell him that he owed Dumbledore nothing. She wishes she could come back just to give that old bumbling man a piece of her mind, manipulating Remus was unforgivable. Remus who was sarcastic but so so sweet, smart and also so dumb. She didn't miss the way he smiled at Sirius, the way the two looked at each other. She cried for hours after Remus got the news. She wasn't sure if he'd ever open up again. How could such a kind soul be given such a cruel fate- he was once again alone and she wasn't sure she could handle it. But...if he got through it so would she.

Sirius who never had the love he deserved. Shunned and hated at every turn. How could they think Sirius, her baby, could ever betray his other brother. Sirius who was never shown unconditional love, who still flinched when she moved suddenly. She seemed to be the only one, besides James, to see the way Sirius stiffened when a voice was raised, even with no malicious intent. Sirius, betrayed and framed. Her second son, taken from cruel hands just to be stabbed in the back by one of his own. So suspicious of love that he suspected one of the closest people to him. Still grieving his younger brother, still in so much pain. He hadn't yet gotten to live, hadn't really been free for long. A handful of years at most and then he was sent away because of his last name.

The world wasn't kind, it seemed even less so towards the ones she held dear, to the generation cursed to fight in the war. She watched the eyebags deepen, their softer edges hardening and becoming ragged and barbeb with wire. It was unfair, it was gut wrenching, her boys were strong, they held on for so long for as long as they could and she was so proud of them. But...she felt relief, as bad as it sounded, when they finally were able to rest. They had fought so hard for so long the least the world could do was reunite them and give them peace. She hoped they weren't too hard on themselves, for the small stupid mistakes, the miscommunication, the stupid arguments and the silent treatment, all the times they could've spoken up or taken a moment to really think.

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akuworld777 · 2 days

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The newspaper

Tim had told Kon all about the cloning incident, so a year later Tim hadn't really thought about it but now Kon was in his Wayne office wondering, why because Bruce refused to take over the company again unless that Tim would finish his education, but getting back to the point , Kon was there with a book in his hand, a book very very similar to Tim's diary, the diary he started after his dad's death, the diary in which he planned the murderer's death. of his father, even if in the end he did not kill him, diary where all the cloning data is, where each documented attempt is, where…. Where Tim goes crazy and Kon has the diary…

I had thought that he had hidden it, Tim had hidden it with all the cloning things, with the capsule, the generator, the data, the DNA. Tim had hidden it and if he had told Kon the address when he confessed to him about how he had tried it. clone in case he wants to go see, or destroy it, Tm's actually not sure why he told him that, hell he's not sure why he didn't burn everything to the ground, Probably because he was thinking of trying again, after all He only stopped because Cassie intervened and Bruce disappeared, he wasn't dead, Tim had brought him back and he wasn't dead, he wasn't crazy.

Actually Tim had thought that Kon would destroy everything and if he didn't he wouldn't find the diary, but he did and now he's probably here to tell him what an idiot he was, how disgusting he is for trying to clone his best friend 99 times, for that matter. How he kissed Cassie just to feel it, how he planned to use his DNA if the 100th attempt didn't work, trapping him with a baby, it didn't matter that at that moment Kon was dead, that there was actually no one to catch, god Tim It really was disgusting, wasn't it?

Too caught up in his head he didn't notice the intense look Kon was giving him, though his thoughts were cut off by a laugh, “I can't believe it, Cassie told me you were sick when me and Bart died but, I can't believe it.” I said that you kissed her to feel me” probably because he didn't know, Tim thought, although the thought didn't last long as he focused on what Kon was saying. "And although I knew about cloning, I didn't really expect you to have tried so hard, Tim, you were actually going to make a baby with our DNA, as if it were a husband who died and you were the mother who decided to keep the child to remember her dead loved one, it's very soap opera-like”

Tim felt like those words were digging into his conscience. Kon was saying it as if it were something absurd, he didn't seem malicious or angry, but his words felt wrong, it felt like he was making fun of what Tim had gone through, of his feelings. of his unrequited love, as if everything he did was nothing more than a bad joke, as if his mourning was worthless.

Kon seemed to realize the state Tim was in because he stopped laughing, examining him as if he were seeing him with his x-ray vision, examining him thoroughly. Unlike Bruce, Tim didn't mind being used, he felt seen in the way his parents never saw him.

Kon obviously realized something, because Tim felt the tkl pull him closer and suddenly he was trapped in the muscular, tanned arms of a Kryptonian, Tim felt himself melting in the embrace as Kon's ever-present warmth sank into him. his bones, relieving phantom pains that Tim had not even realized were there, it was like returning home, to his home, a home that seemed to have been missing for a while, he could not contain the sigh of satisfaction, but he did not regret leaving it. He left especially because Kon hugged him tighter and surrounded them both with his tactile telekinesis.

"I'm sorry, I didn't express myself well," Kon's voice sounded right next to his ear. that someone could do so much for me, could have fallen so low, could have I've suffered my loss enough to try everything." Tim felt a chill as Kon spoke, while that voice tickled his ear, but he also felt conflicted, a conflict between telling him that it wasn't that big of a deal and telling him that anyone would have done it, Cassie is proof she went and joined a cult because of his death, that he deserved that recognition, that he deserved people to worry about him, but he bit his tongue and let Kon continue instead of interrupting to express how incredible it was. It was Kon and how much it affected everyone that he was not there, how much it affected him.

“I don't want to say that what you did wasn't fucked up, damn it's actually kind of funny I'm a clone and you decided that to bring me back you were going to clone me instead of going to Constantie and making some deal with a god or demon.” Tim continued listening to Kon but made a mental note to dabble in necromancy since Kon seemed open to that and get more blackmail on Constantine, hell next time he would throw Kon's body in a lazarus pit or just jump in a building, before being without him again. As if Kon read his mind, Tim felt a tug on his hair which Kon had been stroking earlier and saw the disapproving look the super gave him.

"I'm sorry… I don't know what happened to me, you were gone, so many people were gone." Tim buried his face in Kon's shoulder. "I was just thinking about bringing you back, about bringing at least a part of you back." lap" Kon sighed “I'm not asking you to apologize Tim, I actually thought you were going to be much worse, it doesn't mean I approve of this but if I had come back to life and you had managed to have another me, I wouldn't have been angry… if you had achieved the “Baby, I wouldn’t be mad either…” The silence after that was louder than if this had been a shouting match, Tim once again confirmed that bats are not made for feelings… or maybe the trauma was simply preventing him from being good at feelings, or something. Maybe it was negligence.

Kon clarified the guarantee and spoke again, “Actually, it had been a year since all this and I probably should have talked to you since I read the entire diary, but I kept putting it off because I didn't know how to tell you this… I didn't know how. explain my feelings and I didn't know if I had really understood yours correctly, the hell I chose this moment because Cassie threatened to destroy the diary if I didn't talk to you and…and I thought that now that a year has passed, it probably won't affect you that much…" The pause felt like a shock so Kon wasted no time in continuing quickly.

“Probably what you feel for me is already gone and I thought if that's how I can deal with rejection… I can deal with that, I'm used to not having much luck in romance and this is Rob, he wouldn't make fun of me or nothing, our relationship could continue….” Kon's voice became lower and lower as if he felt unsure of continuing, but Tim couldn't pay much attention to that, because Kon had just confessed to him, to Tim Drake, he had just confessed and he was actually thinking. that Tim would reject him, he thought that Tim would have gotten bored of him because it had been a year, just a year and Tim wanted to hit him because Tim had been feeling something for him since they were only 4 in young Justice and Kon thought that one year he would to be enough to make Tim forget about his feelings, to make Tim reject him.

Kon had arrived with the damn diary where Tim poured his soul, his sorrow, his pain, his mourning, his love and he had tried to take it with humor as he always did with serious topics trying not to get hurt, the trauma appeared in many forms and everyone They had a way of dealing with him, Kon had always used humor, kind of like Dick. He probably planned to pretend that everything was a joke if Tim rejected him, but Tim would never reject him so he took a deep breath and separated from the hug, the TKL let go easily but at the same time seemed to want to keep him there, Kon looked at him sadly, he seemed resigned and Tim couldn't allow that.

"I still like you… If you hadn't come back in the middle of my search for Bruce, I probably would have done the baby plan after bringing Bruce back, put my DNA and yours in a capsule and spent months hiding creating fake IDs, buying a house, getting a fake job, in some random country and I would have raised the baby there.” It may not be the most poetic or emotional declaration of love, hell in reality he hadn't even said that he loved him or that he liked him but Tim was a vigilante, above all he was a bat and practically Tim's entire life had revolved around heroes and That Tim is confessing to Kon what is basically that he was going to retire from being a vigilante with a test tube baby of the two, was very significant.

“I liked you from the beginning of Young Justice, I may not have loved you that early but I liked you, and after breaking up with Steph I realized that I wasn't that interested in her, because the breakup didn't hurt me that much. Instead I was more focused on the fact that we were going out the next day and that I had nothing to wear, damn Steph helped me choose what to wear because she had also realized it long before me", "you are, nice handsome, you smile seems to light up the day, your hugs are like scorching the home, I can feel the heat, the comfort, the affection, you are like a respite from the pain, the memories are the discomfort, you never judge anything, damn it, I tried to clone you 99 times and you keep saying that you don't blame me for it, even knowing that you had a lot of problems regarding your identity due to cloning, you always support everyone, you always seem to know everything, you never push me or anyone to do things I don't want to do, Hell, when my parents weren't at Christmas or when Bruce and I were arguing, you were the angriest, you always defended me, you gave fucking Jason Todd a threat for trying to kill me, you…" Tim could have spent hours talking about everything good about Kon if he had the time he would even show you his power point and his graph of over 100 reasons why Kon was a unique, admirable person and anyone who said otherwise was obviously a villain, but he couldn't since warm lips that felt like the sun on the morning of a spring day rested on his lips, effectively silencing him.

Tim had priorities and preferred to indulge in the kiss than in his talk about why Kon is the best person in the world, sue him, if Superboy kissed them they surely wouldn't be able to think, much less continue with a speech.

The kiss was perfect, not in the traditional way after all, Tim. And him still didn't know what the other liked and it was a little awkward for it being the first kiss they shared, but the feelings were there, every movement of lip to lip, They told praises of love and professed devotion, each touch was warm and moved the heart of the other, it was a promise, a prophecy fulfilled, a river that overflowed as the minutes passed and the feelings of each one were transmitted in the kiss.

The only thing that brought them out of their concentration was the noise of a pile of leaves falling to the floor. They quickly separated. Tim had thought that Kon had dropped the newspaper but unfortunately they were not so lucky. His assistant Katerin, the substitute since Tam was sick, had just seen 18-year-old Tim Drake, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, kissing Superboy… Tim would have to pay her so much to keep quiet.

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loser-lenny · 2 years

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they

#lloyd garmadon #clancee #their relationship is so cute #i have to reread this story because i’ve finally watched season 6 so there’s a lot of references that i’ll now understand #but man i love clancee and lloyd #this chapter was amazing for that reason and also bc it was ominous asf #lloyd is a “tormented soul”#”has been left to suffer time and time again”#the splinter in the blind man’s eye

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lgbtlunaverse · 9 months

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I have been thinking on the nature of mdzs as a deliberately vague text that leaves many things up to interpretation, and how i've slowly come to understand "up for interpretation" less as "there is One True version of this story i must find" and not even as " Everyone has a different One True Version of this story inside their head be based on their interpretations and the differences don't make one wrong and the other right" but as "There is no One True Version. Even in my own subjective interpretation of the text multiple things can be true at once" specifically, in regard to Jin Guangyao and the many things which are left up in the air as to whether he did them or not, most notably killing his son.

There's evidence for this, but it's non conclusuve (jgy saying he killed him while also saying he killed Qin Su, who very much killed herself. The speculations on how he'd have killed him being sect leader yao just saying shit. ) it is, esentially, just up in the air enough that if you decisively fall on one side of the debate is probably says more about you and your general opinion of jgy than it does about the "true" events of canon.

I have, as a proud apologist, always fallen on the "he didn't kill him but felt in some way responsible for his death." Side but recently have become more okay with the interpretation that maybe he DID kill him, and that at the very least, that when he tells Qin Su their son "needed to die" he is being genuine. Which, once you look at it beyond. "Is jgy a poor lil meow meow who it is Okay to Like or an irredeemable baby murderer" becomes both INCREDIBLY tragic and deeply interesting. Because here is a man condemned for who his parents were and who wants nothing more than to live, saying that it is possible to be so cursed by your heritage that you need to die. There is no existence for you. The exact same thing that has been said to him.

Of course being born out of wedlock to a sex worker and being a product of incest are different things, but that begs the question: where is the line? What crimes of the father can mean death for the son? How cursed can you be until your existence is so incompatible with society it is you who needs to give? And if there is... where is it? Qin su clearly thought she was past it. Was his son really past it? Is he?

#warning: canon typical incest and suicide #mdzs #mdzs meta #musings on the nature of unreliable narratives or whatever #meng yao #jin guangyao #jin rusong #i know this is a controversial take #i just think! that once you let go of the idea that killing rusong is some load-bearing sin where if jgy has done it you can't like him #that there is interesting stuff to look at here!#obviously. child murder bad. jiggy has done many had things but this one is. particularly bad.#so i get it if you feel uncomfortable with it being done character you view as symapthetic despite other bad things he's done #and again! multiple things are true at once! i STILL operate from 'he did not kill him it was a secret 3rd thing' modus 90% of the time #it's just that in this one instant i find the other option really interesting #i just. non-identity problem my beloved. if rusong's suffering cannot be erased without erasing his existence is he destined to do so?#if he'd been a teen when everything about jgy got uncovered and both his parents died is there... a place left for him to go?#i just. hhhhh this poor child. we know nothing about you beyond your shameful birth and your death. is that really all you were meant to be

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