#I already had this composition in mind when this feature was released
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My fifth photo featuring my fav boiz in suits :)
(They look better together with default looks)
#gladion#trainer hop#trainer blue#pokemon masters#pokemon sun and moon#pokemon ultra sun and moon#pokemon sword and shield#pokemon red and blue#my screen recording#I finally got ss gladion 🥹#I already had this composition in mind when this feature was released#but didn’t get him until 270 scout points in#I feel bad for leaving Hugh out I hope he gets an alt at least later this year#I really love nc blue’s design#but it’s a close second to Lillie’s 2nd anni alt#speaking in terms of the whole pokemas roster#I also just got the title for playing this game for 5 years#I played the game for a little while when it was released#but got bored of it so left it alone until Guzma and Plumeria came out#that being a close sign that gladion was coming#I remember that being in March but he didn’t come until September#but yea I’ve been playing every day ever since#AGAIN thank you pokemon masters and DeNa <3
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crying on their wedding day, or not / genshin impact / part two
this is the second part of crying on their wedding day. i didn’t add dainsleif and baizhu because i don’t have enough creative juice to squeeze them in.
requested by: @bakuhoe-is-my-bakubro
includes: venti, kaeya, xingqiu, scaramouche, razor, albedo, chongyun, xiao, kazuha
warning: unedited, not proofread, different variation of not seeing the bride before the wedding ceremony, written before kazuha was released
part one
THOSE WHO WILL NOT CRY
VENTI
Although his wings that have soared through the vast open azure skies was as ancient as the winds that swept ever so delicately through the lands that made up Teyvat, although his curious viridescent hues have become quiet witnesses to numbers of renowned and untold tales of mortals across nations, no matter the countless years he devoted trying to cognize the mortals and their atypical behaviors, Barbatos – or Venti, as he refers to himself now – can never truly understand how so many human beings can stay in one place with one person.
Before he had even come to be the Anemo Archon, all that Venti knew was how to heed the call of the wind. To him, it was confounding how mortals do not have the similar urgency as he to follow the winds. Even when he had taken the form of his dearest friend, Himmel, and has elapsed through myriad of seasons and centuries, still he soared gently in the air, lyre in his possession as he sung melodies of his own composition and strummed symphonies for those who yearn to hear his voice, and with his braids billowing in his travel to a destination even he cannot tell yet.
One has made an attempt - and unfortunately, a fruitless one - to make sense to him why some has gone against the heed of the wind, a very peculiar decision in the eyes of someone like him. His form nothing but a mere wisp at that time, nothing but a small creature with little understanding, and he remembered he was seated on the shoulder of his companion as they perched by the edge of a mountain, legs dangling and kicking gently back and forth. They basked in the caress of the wilting warmth as the sun bid its farewell.
Himmel was humming a tune with the corners of his mouth curving up and his eyes closed, and Venti's small frame thrummed with delight at the euphony he made.
And in the serene quiet, his dear friend spoke, "Someday, you'll find yourself wanting to stay somewhere. For something, or for someone. You don't understand now, but when you come to love one thing, you'll always want to be close to their side." Himmel turned to him, a subdued smile etched across his features, and upon catching sight of the sincerity and fervor Himmel in his bright eyes, Venti cannot help but mirror his sentiments and reciprocate his smile the best he can with the body he manifested in.
"When that day comes, you'll understand why many choose to . . . stay." Venti tilted his head to the side, and Himmel let out a small chuckle once he catches on the puzzlement that he displayed in his actions. "Don't look at me like that. I know you're curious about the whole marriage thing. Who knows, maybe someday you'll find yourself a nice fellow wisp and - "
All it took for Himmel to cut his statement short and burst out in laughter was how Venti prodded against his neck as a feeble attempt to make him quiet down.
And as Himmel has predicted, Venti - in time - did understood.
Venti was able to perceive the reasonings of mortals to turn their heads away from the beckon of the wind, to live a peaceful and quaint life, some alone, and some with their spouses. Himmel had done his absolute best to explain to him the wanders which are humans, and gleefully watched as Venti attentively listened to every word he spoke.
However, at the end of the day, Venti was still a free spirit. He can never be tied down to one place, much more to another living being. He will always find himself favoring the whisper of the winds in Teyvat, adrift and letting himself go adrift.
It was after he had witnessed the life in Himmel's eyes leave, heard his last breath, the whisper of the triumph of Mondstadt in achieving freedom, and his final request as he stroked Venti's quivering figure - A sad smile has been painted upon Himmel's brims as he gazed at the smaller entity weeping under his touch, "I ask only for one last favor from you, my dearest friend. Look after Mondstadt, after our people, for me, and never let everything we've sacrificed go for naught."
Venti was still a free spirit, but with what happened to Himmel, he longed to understand how he saw the world. It seemed he understood it differently than he did. And thus, he took the form of his beloved friend, and ventured closer than he had before to mortals.
The day he found a place in The Seven, the fateful he became the Anemo Archon, Venti has not once missed an event with his people. He celebrated with them in festivities, cried with them in their sorrows, aided them in battles against transgressors or wars within their own mind. He laughed with them, ate with them, drank with them, and his love for his people grew everyday.
But still, he can never stay for too long.
Venti tried to, he really did, for his friends, as his last gift before he lets go of the pain of losing him. But cannot force himself to remain in one place if his heart kept searching for places to explore, people to meet, discover the secrets of Teyvat.
Hopelessness was beginning to gnaw inside him as hundred of years has passed, and he has already traveled through long distances and saw generation after generation of his people in Mondstadt, and yet nothing he has yet to fulfill his own promise to hos friend.
Perhaps this was the way it was supposed to be. Maybe only mortals are giving the ability to be content and stay, but the Anemo Archon was forever to be appearing and disappearing - always, always stringing along with the wind.
And Venti believed that thought of his, and it stuck to him throughout many more years in Teyvat.
Not even a dust of faith was left in the ruins of what he now thought of as a vanquished promise, marring Venti with a wound in his heart, and a doubt in his standing as an Archon. However, it was through this belief that took him by surprise when he met a rather strange woman at the last day of the Windblume Festival, and in Stormterror’s Lair, no less.
The Honorary Knight, and their odd traveling companion have long been gone after they bid him farewell and a safe travel in his return to his abode – or whatever dwelling was the closest he could denote as home – leaving Venti by himself to reminisce in the ruins of where Old Mondstadt once stood.
The heavens were a color of black dotted with stars and the moon. The wind has grown softer, as though to accompany him in this lonesome hour, leaving chaste kisses against his pallid skin. From afar, the City of Mondstadt remains lit with lanterns and plethora of flowers. Even in this distance, he can oversee the joy that exuded from the people as they celebrated the remaining hours of the festival and take in the fragrance of the flowers friends and partners exchanged with one another. It was a beautiful sight to behold if one sits in such a desolate and dark place, in the very tower that he had confronted Stormterror – no, it was Dvalin now, Stormterror has perished along with the danger of the past.
But a presence – curious, sorrowful – has intervened in the quiet evening Venti thought he had saved for himself. He stood up from the platform where he has previously perched upon and took off to take a gander in the Lair, and it did not take a moment longer for him to spot a figure nearby. There, standing on top of a boulder clad in a crestfallen expression was a lone woman. She was casting her gaze around Old Mondstadt, and the breeze blew her tears away,
Venti had never seen her before. He had met every family, every person, in Old Mondstadt, and the same was to be said to the generation that followed after them. He knew them well, recalled their quirks and appearances, and this woman has no resemblance to any of them. Has she come from another nation?
Venti made it his point to glide down and noiselessly land behind her, but it seems his efforts have failed him for this stranger spoke the second his feet made contact with the ground.
"I wonder how this place used to be." You stated, and Venti was unsure whether you have felt his presence or you were speaking to yourself.
“So, this is Old Mondstadt.” She stated in a murmur. Her voice was laced with awe, but with evidence of forlornity. “I heard rumors about what happened here, and-and the thing with Stormterror too. Archon, I wish someone would tell me the real story of the City of Freedom. Back in my home, we’re not even allowed to learn much about the Archons of other nations. It’d be foolish to just trust rumors.”
There was something about her that piqued his interest. He did not know what it was. Maybe it was the way she talked about Mondstadt, her interest in the history of his city and his people, the sincere sorrow she felt for what the fallen tyrant of Mondstadt had had done to his former subjects, and how he had forced their hands to rebellion to protect their nation.
Venti spoke before he can stop to think. “If you’d like, I can retell the story of how Old Mondstadt came to be. I’m well versed in the history of this city, so rest assured everything you’ll hear is the truth.” He carved a smile to his lips. “And I am a Bard, so you have no need to worry about me chatting your ear off. All it takes is an audience and my lyre to get me started. Of course, a private performance will cost you, but since you’re new in the city, I suppose I can – ”
His breath was taken away when the stranger turned to face him, and his words withered from his tongue. Ever seen a speechless bard? It was a sight people will scarcely see.
Could he ever compose a song to even come close to the lovely view that was before his eyes? Gleaming curious pair of eyes, a smile so eager to listen, hair flitting with the wind as his heartbeat raced –
Venti was used to captivating his audience with his songs and stories. However, this time, it was he who was captivated, and when he took out his lyre and played a sweet tune to sing the story of his beloved city, with this gorgeous woman listening to him with bright and shining eyes, Venti knew then that he wanted to play for her every song he knew, every story he saw and heard, to the end of time.
You told him your name after his song, and you came all the way from the isolated nation of Inazuma. It took him by surprise how you have confidence in him to reveal to him your identity and place of birth. Surely, not everyone will trust a stranger who has appeared out of nowhere who offered to sing them a song. But then again, Venti trusted you as quickly as you trusted him, and now it was his turn to listen as you confide in him.
You have escaped from your home nation and survived out in the seas under the heat of the sun and threat of starvation for days until a compassionate Captain from Liyue, and her crew found you and delivered you to safety. And it was after your recovery that you fled to Mondstadt, the opposite of the nation you were born in.
Venti found himself sitting down in front of you as you told him your story, sight never leaving your frame as he did so. You were no Bard, and you were no storyteller, but he cannot tell the time or noticed the sun has set as you regaled him with story of Inazuma and your life after and before your escape. He was enchanted with the way you spoke, how you looked about Old Mondstadt with saddened awe, the fervidness in your voice – Have I found myself a rival? Thought Venti, eyes softening as you went on about your admiration for the affability and generosity his people have shown you.
When you left that day, you promised to come back and when you do, you shall ask him to sing to you more of his songs. At first, Venti was hesitant to believe your promise, but to his relief and happiness, when he saw you in the same place in the ruins undoubtedly waiting for him with your eyes closed and relishing in the wind that rushed past you. Venti always came to Stormterror’s Lair to oversee what remained of his old home, but for once, his sights were held torn and you have all his attention.
Seeing you keep your promise of return made his day, but when you whipped your head to face him with a smile, waving a hand as you asked him to sit with you, Venti knew that his heart desired yours. Was it a wise decision to fall for someone you've only just met? Certainly not, but he was an Archon who had too much time but too little for those who he holds dear. He cannot afford to be unsure when his time with you was limited.
So, he decided – when the day is right and the wind is quiet, he shall make his feelings for you known.
It became a routine for the two of you to meet in Stormterror’s Lair and share your stories with one another, Venti always telling his in songs, as a Bard would. There was never a dull moment between the two of you, and every story told in the ruins were to be fascinated of. And soon, it wasn't just stories. Soon, he was finding out more about you, knowing you better until he couldn't get you out of his head.
It became a routine for the two of you to meet in Stormterror’s Lair and share your stories with one another. Venti always told his in the form of songs, as a Bard would, you will always applaud him after, to which he would respond with a melodramatic bow. There was never a dull moment between the two of you, and every story spoke in the ruins and the silence of the night was to be fascinated of. He was learning more about you, knowing you better, until he couldn’t get you out of his mind when his head falls against his pillow.
Venti cherished these times he had with you. He knew it won't be long until you were gone. He knew his fate as an Archon – seeing loved ones perish and more to come, and the cycle continued.
He hasn't even told you about his identity.
Venti was grateful for the Traveler for pushing him to tell you about his feelings and his standing in Teyvat, but he was still uncertain. What would you say if he confessed to you? What will you say if he admits to being the Anemo Archon? Will things change between the two of you? Will you leave? Venti can’t think about that.
Venti grew worried when you didn’t come to Stormterror’s Lair one day, and then another, and his concern grew as days turned to weeks. Everyday he found himself visiting Stormterror’s Lair in hopes of seeing you waiting for him again, but he was always left disappointed. You did not mention going on an adventure or a commission, so his worry was warranted. Were you safe or were you simply sick of him?
When the day you finally appeared in the Lair, relief washed over Venti and he practically jumped off the broken tower he frequently resided and made haste towards you. But his footsteps faltered when he found no traces of a smile on your face. He can see the relief and joy, but the smile was absent. From that, Venti’s own beam wilted as he walked over to you with reluctant steps.
When he came close to you, he opened his mouth to ask how you have faired for the past weeks and question your abrupt disappearance when you said something that took him by surprise.
“I know who you are.”
It felt like his entire world has stopped for a moment as he stared at you with disbelief smearing his countenance. How ever did you discover the truth? Certainly, he had similarities with his statues, but none of his people nor visitors from outside ever pieced the puzzle together.
He averted his gaze, ashamed. Why was he wallowing in shame? Or perhaps was this regret of not telling you sooner? Did you feel betrayed? Will you cast him away?
“But how . . . ”
“The man at the Tavern told me, Master Diluc.” You answered. “I was telling him about you, and I guess he thought I already knew of you being the . . . Anemo Archon.”
“Is that why you were gone for weeks?” Venti questioned, and when you nodded in response, he winced. He can’t help but think of the worse – She’ll leave me.
Venti looked away. “Ah, I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, it is hard to believe someone like me is an Archon.” He laughed out, but the humor was nonexistent in his statement. “So, how do you feel about that?”
Venti let out a gasp when you threw yourself to him and enveloped him in a tight hug. Venti froze at your actions and waited for you to withdraw, but when you did not, he slowly accepted your embrace with gratefulness. He didn’t know what you do this, but he was more than happy to reciprocate your actions before he lets you go.
It won’t matter, anyway. He’ll hear the winds calling for him somewhere soon. Maybe letting you go now would hurt less in the long run.
“Are you not . . . angry?” Venti asked as he closed his eyes and rested his chin on your shoulder.
“Oh Archons, no, Venti. I could never hate you.” You assured him in a whisper and from the brokenness on your voice, Venti knew you were crying. “Those times you told me about Barbatos . . . all the stories about his past . . . everything he had gone through . . . ” You murmured, tone lowering. “ . . . you must have been so hurt and lonely.”
He didn’t know why your words shot through him. He can feel tears streaming down his cheeks as memories of his past and the continuous pain of loss and regret caught up with him. Finally, after thousands of years, his false smile was shattered.
How pathetic. He thought. An Archon weeping in front of a mortal that he is in love with. Could things get any worse?
Your hand stroked his hair, comforting him as he cried against your shoulder and in your arms.
“I was . . . ” He breathed out, choking as he tightened his grip around you. “ . . . it never stops hurting . . . I keep seeing Himmel, and everyone, and – ”
He couldn’t finish what he was saying and just relished in the comfort of your arms, breathing in your scent.
“I don’t understand what you’ve been going through these thousands of years, and I never will, but it’s okay now, Venti.” You whispered in his ear, and he can detect the compassion and love lacing your voice. His heart hammered against his chest. “You have me. You don’t have to pretend everything is okay. I’m here for you. I want you to be Venti and Barbatos with me, I want all of you.”
He couldn’t believe his ears. Did he hear you correctly? You want him?
Venti gently retracted himself from you, but his arms remained at your sides. “You still want me, even after I kept this from you?”
“I want you, Venti.” You clasped your hands over his shoulders, firmly looking into his eyes. “I’m not going anywhere anymore. I’m staying here, with you.”
And so, you stayed, and so did he – it was the first time he stayed, and he will never regret it.
One would think that as a renowned Bard in Mondstadt, Venti would push for a grand wedding where all people of Mondstadt are invited to wine and dine together as bards banded together to regale everyone with their music, and as the Archon who values freedom above everything else, a big part of him wanted to. But he thought of you and what you wanted. It took some time for him to deliberate over how selfish it would be for him to make you uncomfortable in your wedding day and agree a small wedding would be a much better option considering how sacred and intimate marriage is.
However, knowing you cannot simply have the Anemo Archon go against his belief, and of course because of your love for him, you have secretly devised a plan with Jean and Kaeya to invite all the citizens of Mondstadt to your reception to celebrate this joyous occasion for the two of you. There was more than enough food and drinks to feast, courtesy of Master Diluc, and you’re sure Venti will be over the moon with this surprise.
Venti had no family, and those he did consider as family were long gone, just a memory from the past. Even though it is unusual for a groom not to have a best man in his wedding day, Venti claimed he was fine without a best man. He had no doubts in marrying you. When he proposed to you, there was no touch of regret or doubt. Albeit reluctantly, you were in a mutual agreement in that matter, as well. Until, of course, an unexpected tribute arrived offering his services.
Venti was not the least nervous when the day of your wedding came. He did not waste time when he woke up and immediately got to work on his appearance. Jean was kind enough to have his wedding suit tailored for him, an early wedding gift, as she says.
Venti knew of the rule that a groom mustn’t see his bride in her wedding gown until the time she walks on the aisle. But he was just so thrilled for this day that he forgot all about it. And even if he did remember it, who in the world would stop him from seeing you? He has no best man to stop him anyway -
Venti almost choked to death when a hand came to grasp him by his the back of his collar, and he blubbered pathetically as he was thrown off balance and was dragged back to the altar.
“Who are - Master Diluc? What are you doing?”
Diluc let out a huff as he continued dragging Venti away from your house. “Stopping you from upsetting your bride. I’m sure you know that you shouldn’t see your bride in her gown before the wedding?”
“But Master Diluc, as much as I appreciate what you’re doing, you’re not in any position to - ”
“Actually, I am in a position where I’m allowed to stop you from making a mess of your wedding.” Said Diluc. “I’m your best man, after all.”
Venti couldn’t put to words how touched he was, and more so when you revealed to him after the wedding that Diluc has offered to be his best man by his own volition. As thanks, the next time Venti visited the tavern to drink, he paid for a single bottle of wine once. It wasn’t exactly ideal but considering how he had no original plan to pay Diluc for any of the drinks he will consume, this was as good as it gets.
When the doors opened to reveal you in your pretty white wedding dress, Venti swooned, and a large joyous smile stretched across his lips.
A gentle breeze swept in the altar and Venti felt his feet leave the ground briefly, floating in the air as he excitedly watched you walk down the aisle, and it took Diluc’s hand pulling him down by the back of his suit to stop him from floating up above the cathedral.
“My, my, if I knew any better, I would have thought the Archons have taken favor on me and blessed me with a beautiful bride.” Venti said once you join him in the altar and took your hands in his own. “You look beautiful, darling. I might just write another song about you.”
You shook your head, pink tinting your cheeks. “Haven’t you written enough songs about me?”
Venti inched his face close to you, his large smile altering to a soft smile. “There aren’t enough songs to tell you how much I adore you.”
The wedding went on, and when the two of you kissed, only one thing entered in Venti’s mind - I found my reason to stay, Himmel. I just hope you can see this.
The wind blew gently.
KAEYA
Kaeya did not know what to feel when his brother has made it clear once and for all that he wanted nothing to do with him. His dismissive remarks, his heated glares, his cold and aloof treatment – he had known Diluc for so long, and his memories with him in their childhood never grew old in his mind, so it pained him to have his once bright-eyed sibling who aspired to be part of the Knight acting as though they were strangers. No, strangers would have been merciful. He acted as if the bond they had never meant anything to him, and casting him aside and seeing him under the light of contempt was the easiest decision he has ever made.
Even you were not spared from the same fate. The three of you become inseparable the day you and Kaeya were introduced to each other. You’ve done everything together, and it would be a strange sight to see one missing from the group.
When Diluc has cut ties with Kaeya, you suffered the same fate as he. You poor, poor thing – you tried your best to patch the friendship he no longer wanted to be part of, and Kaeya did not waste time running to your side and picking up the pieces Diluc shattered. It was not an easy feat for both of you to lose Diluc – he lost a brother, and you lost a good friend.
But it was because of your fall out with him that you and he become closer than ever, closer than before, if that could even be possible. The two of you support one another and you go to each other when things get difficult.
Kaeya will never admit it, and he would rather die than do, but he has loved you for many years. The moment Diluc pulled him into an unknown house, claiming that he wanted to meet someone important to him, and his eyes landed on your form with the sunrays kissing your skin, a wide smile stretching across your face, and a fake sword in your hand, his heart was taken.
You were one of the reasons he wanted to become a Knight. Diluc admitted his want to become a Knight, and you expressed the same sentiment, and of course, hearing his friend and brother say so, he became inclined of joining the Knights. I’ll get good training. He thought back then as stared at you, blushing as you braided Diluc’s hair. Then, I’ll be able to protect ( Your Name ).
Now that Diluc no longer wanted to be in contact with you than more than is necessary, Kaeya grew to be more protective over you. He knew you can handle yourself as you were a Knight yourself and wields a Vision, too, but his heart clenches at the thought of you getting hurt when he could have easily had your back, like he always did.
Kaeya didn’t knowif you had feelings for him, or for anyone, for that matter. Many times he thought of confessing to you just to rip the band aid off, but he couldn’t. He’ll keep his feelings to himself and continue being the Cavalry Captain that everyone adored, and your own personal protector.
But it was getting harder and harder to hide his feeling. Everyday he was always under the threat of falling deeper in love with you. Everyday, you always give him more reasons to love you. Waiting for him to come home after taking too long in his work, taking care of him after a nasty battle or when he’s drunk, always checking up on him even if your schedule was hectic, offering him help if you deem the responsibility given to him is too much. How much longer can he pretend that he wasn’t thinking of you everyday and every night?
He was pulled back from his train of thoughts when he felt a soft material doused in alcohol perch on the wound blemishing his skin. “Ah, be gentle, ( Your Name ),” Whined Kaeya, stilling himself to refrain from moving and delaying your nurse on his cuts.
“We wouldn’t be in this situation if you had only been careful fighting those Abyss Mages.” You reprimanded with a stern glare. “Think of this as your punishment from me. Now, hold still.”
“I was fighting Abyss Mages and came back with small wounds. How am I not careful?”
“You can be more careful.” Quipped you, and finding your chance, you pressed the cotton again his skin, causing the Cavalry Captain to hiss in pain.
“Ow, ow, ow – I said be gentle!”
“Oh, you can fight Abyss Mages but can’t handle getting your wounds treated? What a baby.”
Kaeya pouted while you pulled away from him. “My dearest ( Your Name ) doesn’t love me anymore.” He cooed. “Tell me, what can I do to make it up to you, hmm?”
You shook your head and placed your hand over his head, beaming. His heart leaped in his chest. “Stop being reckless.” You responded. “You’re the most important person to me, Kaeya. I don’t want to lose you too.”
Days and days he spent thinking of what you said. He never truly knew how he important he was to you. The thought of that had him sleeping and dreaming of you and your smiles, how the days will be if you loved him the same way he loved you, and the fateful day you owned his heart.
He had to thank Diluc for introducing him to you. He couldn’t imagine being in a world where he has no one to lean on when he lost the only family he had. You became his rock, someone he could lean on and trust. His friend who he loved more than he should have, the woman he wished to see in his arms someday.
But it will never be. He has to protect you. He is always in danger and he doesn’t want to hurt you more if he died and you two are in a relationship. And he had seen firsthand how affected you were when Diluc no longer wanted to be friends with you. He won’t let you go through the same pain if your relationship didn’t work. He loved you too much to let you suffer again.
Kaeya didn’t think he would be able to thank Diluc again after their fall out but he was mistaken.
He didn’t know the full story of what had happened the night he got shitfaced drunk in the tavern but woke up the next day to learn he has revealed his feelings for you in front of his brother, and the latter had casually mentioned it to you when you dropped by the tavern to escort him back home.
Regret and frustration welled up inside of him and he spent ten minutes walking back in you guest room, trying to explain himself and perhaps even jest about having feels for you but his preparation was all futile when you opened the door just as he was about to.
Before he can speak, you beat him to it.
“The next time you get drunk like that, you’re sleeping on the couch.” You chastised, shaking your head and proceeding to turn your back to him to return downstairs. “Freshen up, and head down. I already cooked you breakfast, so hurry up before it gets cold.”
Kaeya stared blankly at the spot you previously stood before smiling. He rushed over to the staircase and looked down to watch you descend the steps. “I won’t keep you long, love.”
His smile broadened when he saw redness rush to your cheeks.
Kaeya proposed to you in a way you expected him to propose to you. A fancy dinner at a fancy restaurant where he ordered a fancy bottle of wine and placed the fancy ring he bought into your glass. It was only because you knew him well that you have no accidentally imbibed the accessory.
Upon receiving your answer to his proposal, the first thing Kaeya did the day after is hunt down for a best man. As a popular and charming Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius, he thought it would be an easy task finding himself a best man but that notion gradually wilted as the date for your wedding approaches, he has yet to find someone to take the position.
In his pursuit for a best man, Kaeya came to realize something. His relationships with others aren’t exactly intimate. They drink and laugh together, but none of them really knew him. Kaeya couldn’t go to them with his personal problems or have their shoulders ready for him to cry on. They were good friends, but not people he would let inside his heart and vulnerability.
There were only two people who knew him behind the title of Cavalry Captain - you, and of course, his estranged brother, Diluc.
The very thought of Diluc sent a shiver down his spine. Diluc hated him and ( Your Name ). He pushed them away, treated them horridly, like they had been nothing to him but strangers with bad memories. Why would he want him to be his best man?
He remembered one day in Angel’s Share, he asked Venti if he could stand as his best man in the wedding and he swore he heard a glass dropping from behind the counter but when he turned, he saw Diluc wiping a wine glass with a blank expression. When Kaeya faced Venti once again, the excitement of being asked of such honorable position has withered and the Bard kindly declined before telling him to ask Diluc to be his best man. He did not.
Who cares about best man? The only thing important to me right now is marrying ( Your Name ).
But when the day of his wedding dawned, Kaeya was in a panic. Behind his charm was a man with a dark past, dark memories, and dark thoughts. He began doubting his ability to give you the life you deserve, began feeling insecurities he thought he had set aside.
He tried his best to remain calm, and for the most part, it worked. Everyone did not find something amiss when Kaeya was interacting with them before the wedding, but someone did, and that someone took him by his arm and dragged him a far and secluded corner after excusing him from who he was conversing with.
“Stop fidgeting with your tie, it’s beginning to bother me.”
Kaeya let out a huff. “Master Diluc, what a . . . surprise that you’re here.”
“You sent me an invitation.” The red head retaliated.
Kaeya had indeed sent him an invitation but he had no recollection of this or whatsoever. He was too wasted to remember.
“The Cavalry Captain losing his cool. Now this is a wedding just waiting to be ruined.”
It was almost like magic how the anxiety that has been eating him up vanished at his brother’s taunt. Kaeya glared at Diluc, opening his mouth to retaliate but before he can even let a single word move past his lips, Diluc turned his back to him and returned to the cathedral, leaving Kaeya in disbelief.
He let out a huff as he stared at his brother’s retreating form. “Bastard still knows me best.”
Kaeya has taken the reins over his emotions again, and he was sure he can keep his composure when you enter through the doors. But he was thoroughly mistaken as he swallowed the lump in his throat when his sight landed on you.
It felt like a dream. How can someone like you love him? In all his flaws, mistakes, and faults, how did you see him as someone you can lean on? Someone you want to spend the rest of your life with?
Surely, he must be dreaming. He’ll wake up in his bed any moment now and realize that everything had been the foolishness of his mind -
Except you continued making your way down aisle, and then you were in front of him with a veil covering your flushed face, and then he was slipping his hands in yours. This was real. You love him.
You leaned forward to him, nose brushing against his. “You look very dashing today, Kaeya.”
Kaeya chuckled. “And you look splendid today, Mrs. Alberich - oh, don’t go shy on me now.”
His smile broadened at the sight of your reddening cheeks. If it wasn’t for the priest speaking right now, he would have flipped over your veil and kiss you.
But there is plenty of time to do that. Kaeya will make sure of that.
XINGQIU
The youngest of the Guhua Clan will rarely be seen without a novel in hand. Everyday, Xingqiu will be seen with his friends with a book near him, always different from yesterday. He had read many novels and heard stories from storytellers, but one story he will never get tired of was his story with you.
Although it may not seem like it, Xingqiu was a hopeless romantic, and he has always imagined seeking a woman to make his bride. However, it will always be something he can only imagine. As a heir of the Guhua Clan, he has responsibilities to keep and adhere, and he has willingly accepted this. Being given the freedom to choose his bride is something he cannot afford. When his father has informed him about offering him to a daughter of another prestigious clan, he has voiced his discontentment and disinclination to the arrangement but has nonetheless followed.
What a horror it would have been if he had followed through with the tiny voice inside his head saying to run away because if he did, he would have missed the chance of laying eyes on you and experiencing what many romance novels he read called – a heart skipping a beat.
It was a tiring charade of formalities and display of pristine etiquette. All Xingqiu wanted was to retreat to a secluded area and continue immersing himself in the book he has picked up from the local library. With how often he reads, the novels in his own house he has already read, twice.
And so, he did. He kindly excused himself from the dinner between the families, making up a lie about feeling unwell and needing rest, and hurried over in the fields near his place. It is not exactly rude for him to skip dinner. It is not exactly ideal for his bride-to-be to be late in an important occasion like this so why shouldn’t he exhibit the same treatment as they did to him?
When he came to the spot be frequented, he caught sight of an unfamiliar figure from afar. A girl around his age sat on the bench under the tree, in the same spot he always occupied. She wore clothes similar to the families of the clan his family are negotiating with, so it didn’t take long for Xingqiu to learn this girl was related to them. He just didn’t know what her standing was with them.
She was beautiful, he will admit, but it was the book in her hand that caught his attention. Thus, he approached her, adorning a friendly mask as to not scare her away. It is rather uncomfortable meeting strangers in the dark of the night and somewhere far from civilization.
“Her hair billowed as she stood by the precipice, golden hues dimming in the dying light as she was left disappointed for yet another century. Her tears stung her skin and her throat tightened, but another century is simply common for someone like her. She will wait for his return, even if every mountain has eroded and all that was left of her was hope.” He recited a line from the novel as he took even ambles towards the girl, and he did not falter as she turned to face him. He offered her a smile and bowed with the elegance that his family taught. “Apologies for my disruption, my liege, but I can’t help but be thrilled to see someone with such incredible taste for literature. Not many are fond of historical fiction. Well, in my case, not many are into literature.”
Her eyes appraised him with wonder as she perfected her posture. “That’s one of the lines in the book. My, even I haven’t memorized a single phrase from any of the books in my collections.” She remarked.
“I like to memorize a line or two from all the books I’ve read. It feels like a part of them will always be with me even if my memories fade in time.” Xingqiu gestured to the vacant spot beside her. “May I sit next to you?”
She let out a laugh, to which sent shivers down Xingqiu’s spine. “You may. It’s not everyday I get to speak with someone with the same interests as me.”
He gladly seated himself beside her and immediately, he was greeted with the fragrance of flowers.
The girl extended her hand to him, smilingly softly at him. “My name is ( Your Name ),” She introduced herself. “You’re probably thinking you haven’t seen me around in Liyue, and you’re right. My family is here to meet with the Guhua Clan.”
Xingqiu took her hand and pressed a chaste kiss on the back. “Glad to make your acquaintance, my lady. My name is Xingqiu from the Guhua Clan.”
Her eyebrows raised in acknowledgment. “Is that so?” She mused. “Then, I must show my sincerest gratitude for letting my family into – ”
“Ah, there’s no need for that,” Dismissed Xingqiu as he shook his head. “We’re far from the dinner they’re sharing together. No need to be so formal with me.”
Her smile brightened. “I have a feeling we’re going to get along splendidly, Xingqiu.”
Upon returning together to his house and finding an excuse as to why Xingqiu had been outside did he and ( Your Name ) learn that it was them who were destined to be married when they are of age. The disappointment of meeting his soon-to-be bride has dissipated at the revelation, leaving him filled with utmost joy and pride as to having you as his, and from the shy and gleeful smile that wandered to your lips, Xingqiu can tell you think the same with him.
It was to be expected that the two of you will have a luxurious and grand wedding. With the two of you coming from wealthy families, it was no surprise. If you have insisted for a small wedding consisting only of close relatives and friends, your parents will fear some other elite clans will perceive this as them losing power and money and will take advantage of them or simply cut ties with them. You and Xingqiu had no other choice but to respect their requests. Although Xingqiu was secretly relieved you agreed to a big wedding. For him, you deserved only the best of the best, and in this case, larger is better.
Both families came to an agreement that it would be for the best if the two of you are not to see each other for the week before your wedding day. You found nothing wrong with this arrangement. Xingqiu, however, was the opposite of you.
Many times he tried to sneak out of his house to visit you in secret but Chongyun has thwarted this attempts many times. When he goes to adventures with the Traveler, he find himself missing you in mere hours. How can he survive a whole week without communicating with you?
Oh, how foolish of him. He was now allowed to visit you but he can, however, write letters to you.
For the whole week, Xingqiu will be writing to you without ceasing. You’ll have a difficult time keeping up with his letters but you’ll always find time to respond to him. After all, you missed him just as much as he missed you.
Xingqiu woke up before the sun can call for him. He walked around in his room, breathing in and out as he tried to soothe his joy. Chongyun, who was tasked to look after Xingqiu for the whole week, woke up from the sound of his footsteps. When he stepped inside his best friend’s room, Xingqiu held Chongyun’s hands and twirled him around, startling the half-asleep Cryo user.
“I’m getting married to ( Your Name ) today!”
“I know, Xingqiu. I’ve been stopping you from visiting her the whole week.”
Your wedding was held in a beautiful garden where cherry blossoms flutter and the wind was gentle and cool.
Xingqiu always held his composure in any situations and circumstances he encountered. But he was going to admit that seeing you in your wedding dress with the cherry blossoms kissing your skin and tresses every now and then had him malfunctioning.
It took a worse turn when you finally stood before him, expectantly looking at him. A compliment, a playful jest, a seductive remark - but there was none of that.
Xingqiu stared at you, eyes shining with admiration and his lips parted in pleasant surprise.
“Xingqiu, earth to Xingqiu,” You whispered. “You there?”
It was only after you spoke that Xingqiu snapped out of his stupor.
“Get yourself together, Xingqiu.” Stated Chongyun beside him in a whisper.
It took him a while to find him bearings but when he did, Xingqiu smiled at you and pressed a kiss on your forehead.
“Beautiful, just like the first time I saw you.”
SCARAMOUCHE
Scaramouche has dedicated his entire life to seeing through what his majesty, the Tsaritsa, desired. His life shall be nothing but a pawn for her to use in her schemes and may her will be done through him and her subjects. If she must dispose of him to make success of her endeavor, Scaramouche will gladly surrender before her eyes and bare his neck for her to cut. He will do anything she commands without a second thought, and anyone who dares get in his way will face the wrath of an incensed Harbinger.
It was all about the Tsaritsa. His entire his existence is for his majesty. It was all he ever believed in when the honor of being the sixth Harbingers was crowned over him. With that said, Scaramouche can never bring himself to admit his resolve has been altered upon his discreet visitation to the City of Freedom to conduct a more intimate investigation over the meteorites and the impact it had on the people of Mondstadt.
His skull was throbbing, his thoughts scattered, and frustration was beginning to settle inside of him. Scaramouche has just dispatched his soldiers to continue their research on the meteors after his failed attempt to eliminate the traveler. He was left alone in the tranquility of the night, with the remnants of the astrologist’s escape glittering beneath his eyes, mocking him.
“I should have acted quicker. The Traveler will continue foiling The Tsaritsa’s plans.” Mumbled Scaramouche to himself. “No matter. There will be another chance in the future to finish off the hero of Mondstadt, and I’m sure it’ll come sooner than I expect. I must prepare for that time. I can’t make this mistake again.”
A curious hum that echoed behind him had him stiffening in his place and drawing out his weapon from thin air. “Are you interested about the meteors too?” A voice asked.
Scaramouche turned around, and he found a woman standing behind him a few meters away. She has a beauty that he favors, a smile so gentle that it thawed a bit of ice in his heart, but a scowl made its way to his countenance. She’s taller than me.
She didn’t look particularly like anyone he would have any interest in knowing, and when she has introduced herself to him after he supplied her with no answer, Scaramouche predicted correctly. She was merely an ordinary folk in any ordinary city with no Vision or any skillset that could benefit him in anything.
“I must get going.” Curtly stated Scaramouche and he turned around without even bidding goodbye to the woman.
“So soon?” You asked. “I thought we could at least talk what’s been happening – about the meteors, the stars.”
Scaramouche frowned at the mention of the latter and he spun back around to meet your gaze. “The stars? What about the stars?”
You smiled a secret smile. “The stars . . . they’re fake.”
Scaramouche stared at you with wonder and amusement in his dark hues. He has always believed in that notion, and only a handful came to agree with him. Now, here a lady stands before him, with nothing in particular to offer him, speaking of the truth many has rejected.
He examined you from head to toe, evaluating your form before beckoning you to come over to him, saying, “Perhaps I can spare some time to talk.”
What was supposed to be a conversation within an hour or so has extended for a day, and when you requested to accompany him back to ship docked in Liyue Harbor to continue your conversation (it surprised him but has nonetheless allowed you to tag along) about the meteors and the stars, it dragged on for weeks.
But Scaramouche would be lying if he said that was all you discussed about. There was only so much information they can relate to the subject that has intertwined their fates that it did not take long for the two of you to stray from it to favor a more civil conversation. He learned of your mundane life back in Mondstadt where you were merely another dot in the bustle of the city and he managed to extract from you valuable material regarding the Honorary Knight (in truth, you have willingly told him everything you knew about the Hero of Mondstadt and this he was very pleased with). He learned about your family, your work, your past, and your ambition to adventure throughout the lands of Teyvat even without a Vision.
He thought it was foolish of you to believe you can ever get out of your city without a Vision. There were too many enemies that a simple adventurer like you could easily be overwhelmed with. Not to mention the Fatuis that he and his fellow Harbingers has placed all throughout Teyvat. The thought of you getting hurt, especially by his own soldiers . . . it did not sit right with him.
Arriving at Liyue Harbor, Scaramouche proposed that you come with him. It is no secret that anyone who do not possess a Vision cannot survive if they were ever to embark on a journey. Hearing your desire for an adventure, Scaramouche has come to decide that as gratitude for your pleasant company and for your compliance in giving him information about the renowned traveler, he shall take you along in his voyage, showing you the grandest landscapes, granting your every need and desires, all the while keeping you at his side where he was certain you were safe.
It was all to thank you, nothing else. It wasn’t because Scaramouche knew he would find himself missing you and the comfort you bring when you leave, nor was it because he was fond of you. Yes, yes, all just to show his gratitude.
As his soldiers watched as Scaramouche led you aboard in ship with his hand interlocked with yours, they thought the same thing – Scaramouche is never the one to show gratitude to anyone. You had him smitten.
How you were able to fall in love with Scaramouche in such a short period of time is fascinating. Especially with his horrid personality.
But he was different with you. He was gentle, caring, and never raised his voice. The insults remained but there was no venom behind them. It took you quite some time to get used to his belittling remarks but it didn’t evade your perception how Scaramouche begun lessening his insults, opting for a more playful jab instead.
He proposed to you over at dinner. He had just come back from an expedition and came home to a table filled with your cooking. As the two of you are exchanging your stories of what went with your lives when you two were separated, Scaramouche placed his chopsticks away, looked at you straight in the eyes and said, “Marry me.”
How can you say no to such a romantic proposal?
Actually, you made him redo his proposal before you accepted but nobody else has to know about that.
There was no best man for Scaramouche in your wedding. The man was feared by everyone, and his fellow Harbingers hated him. Childe did insist on being his best man at one point but he almost ended up being fried by a lightning bolt. Apparently, the 11th Harbinger pestered him for a whole week trying to convince him to let him be the best man so his actions were justified - just a little bit.
You have to give it to Scaramouche. Regardless of his busy schedule and the current predicament in Inazuma, he managed to find time and opportunity to plan your wedding and marry you without having to worry about the Electro Archon and her subjects.
Scaramouche scoffed at the tradition of not being able to see you on the very day of your wedding. What good would it be? You were going to be his wife, and he wanted to see his wife. He saw himself above tradition, and visited you first thing in the morning at the day of the wedding.
It was no question Scaramouche was an authoritative man but he was more so as he prepared himself for the wedding.
His maids ran about in the room, providing everything he needed and wanted. Scaramouche was not known for being compassionate, but this was the first time they’ve been on the receiving end of his wrath. Normally, he would ignore their existence and not even bother to call them by their names but today, he was different. He acted worse than when he comes home after a failed mission.
The maids knew he was beyond frustrated with the wedding. So, they called to ask for your help.
“Scaramouche, you’re scaring the maids.” You cooed as you came up behind him and placed your hands on his shoulders.
Scaramouche let out a scoff, but you felt his frame soften. He sat before a mirror, and he gazed at your reflection as he placed a hand over one of yours. “Even they weren’t so terrible with their jobs . . . ”
“You’re making things so hard for them. And for yourself too.” You stated. “Marrying me shouldn’t be hard, should it?”
That statement set Scaramouche right, and when you left to carry on with your own preparation and the maids returned to their duties, he was more civil with them. If that’s what you want, then he can endure it.
The hour has finally arrived. Scaramouche has faced many dangers in his life, but it was only now he felt restless. What is taking you so long? He thought you wanted to marry him. Then what’s warranting your late arrival?
At that thought, you finally appeared by the end of the aisle, holding a bouquet in your hands. Everyone in the venue gaped at your beauty, and Scaramouche was thankful you had everyone gazing at you. He didn’t want them to see the dumbfounded and poorly hidden lovestruck expression that crossed his mien for a moment.
But a sense of pride also touched him.
That’s my bride.
When the ceremony begins, you and Scaramouche were seated side by side. You smiled brightly at him when you sat, but he didn’t any indication that he saw your smile and continued giving his undivided attention on the person conducting your wedding. You pouted heavily at this but said nothing and followed his actions. However, your smile returned when you felt his fingers hooking with yours. It was a small improvement, but it was intimate and loving.
Scaramouche didn’t cry in your wedding but when his arms held you tightly to his chest when evening came and two of you lied down on your shared bed, it was enough for you to know he loved you as much as you loved him.
Maybe more so.
RAZOR
Razor rarely experience human interaction, and if he did, it would be abrupt and depending on how the communication was being dealt by both parties, it would either be Razor who parts from them first out of wariness or lacking knowledge of being social or the other would, most of the time for the reason they find it disturbing a human could act so much like a wolf. The humans Razor constantly encounter are the hunters from Springvale and due to their bellowing voices and violence against his Lupicals, he has limited his ventures to Mondstadt unless something calls for an emergency.
Other than the man who gave him his name, Razor only knew a handful of people – six of them being the Traveler, Traveler’s companion, Bennett, Klee, her big brother Albedo, and the woman he sees as his mentor, Lisa. He can only ever let his guard down when around them, though he was still a wee bit cautious of Albedo whenever Klee drags him to his camp.
He didn’t think he could meet anyone else who can consider a Lupical. That was until he met you. You were taking a peaceful stroll around Wolvendom – Archons know why you chose the most avoided place in Mondstadt to walk through – at the same time he was hunting down boars for his Lupicals.
There was no rescuing or danger involved when he met you. It was a simple encounter, to which Razor was pleasantly surprised with. In almost all occasions, when he is meeting a fellow human being, it would be under rather unusual circumstances. He met the Traveler and her floating friend when they were being attacked by slimes. He met Lisa when she has painted the skies dark as she was singlehandedly fending herself off from a mob of Hilichurls. He met Klee when she was using her bombs to fish. He met Albedo in the middle of a chaotic experiment to which resulted in an evacuation. He met Bennett when he was hanging upside down from a tree when he tried to take an apple from a high branch, and the tree was up in flames.
To say, meeting you normally was a breath of fresh air.
The two of you hit it off almost immediately, or so that is what it seems to you. Although you consider Razor a good friend even in just the few days you have met, he was still very careful of you. He had been deceived by humans before and it may be a little unfair to you since he trusted the Traveler and Bennett almost in an instant, he must first know you are trustworthy.
And indeed, you’ve proven yourself as such. Perhaps, more so than the Traveler. You have done everything to show him you have no ill intentions against him and his Lupicals – helped him in hunting for sustenance for his family even if you have to knowledge in hunting, helping him broaden his vocabulary, helping him read and write – but it was your sacrifice to protect them that made him truly open himself up to you.
An Abyss Mage has appeared out of nowhere and has wreaked havoc in their residence. Razor can feel his heart thundering as he raced through Wolvendom along with a few of his Lupicals who he had gone out with to hunt. Upon arriving at their home, Razor has anticipated to see the grass painted with red and wounded wolves whimpering in pain as others try to battle against the Abyss Mage. But to his relief, such image was not implemented into reality. Instead, he found his Lupicals sleeping soundly in their den, and the remains of the Abyss Mage has slowly evaporated in thin air. As the particles gradually disappeared, they made way for your presence to be revealed.
Razor let out a gasp when he laid eyes on you. Bruised, bleeding, exhausted, but smiling as you happily waved at him with the hand clutching your weapon.
You happily advanced towards him, tittering. Razor reached out to take your hand, and reluctantly asked of your welfare. Now he understood why humans ask how one is fairing when they are clearly unwell – they do not know what else to say.
“Why would you do that?” Razor questioned as he brought you far from his den to tend to your wounds without waking his family. “You are hurt now.”
“I can’t let an Abyss Mage hurt your Lupical.” You answered firmly, the smile you wore dissipating as you gazed into his eyes. “I might not be as strong as the Honorary Knight or Acting Grand Master Jean, but I fought well.”
What was this odd sensation he was feeling? This strong urge to protect you, to take you in his arms and never let you go – what was this? He has never felt like this before. So light, so . . . flustered. He thought this feeling would be gone after a few days, but months has passed and since then, the feeling became more prominent, stronger. All the time he could never get enough of you and there will always be that lingering trickle of pain in his chest when you have to leave for the day. Razor knew you would come back the day after when the night has gone, but it never stopped that little ache.
Razor understood that he lacked understanding of feelings, so he confided to Bennett about it. Bennett was almost as clueless as Razor about feelings – almost – but he did know when someone was taking a liking of someone in a more amorous manner. He has filled Razor about exactly what he was feeling for you, and not the kind of feeling that he has for him and the Traveler, but the kind of liking he would have towards a . . . girlfriend? (Bennett had to explain to him the meaning behind girlfriend and it was no easy task).
“Liking someone like a girlfriend . . . ” Razor muttered, scrunching his face in puzzlement. “ . . . like a mate?”
Bennett flushed at the word but nodded. “Yes, like a mate.”
Bennett tried his best to help Razor confess to you, and this is where disaster happened. Since Razor is mostly uneducated in terms of romantic feelings, he did not feel any anxiety crawling up to him when he decided to admit his feelings to you. The problem is that he has decided to confess in a wrong time and in a difficult situation.
“You should confess to her after you’ve saved her from danger!” Exclaimed Bennett, beaming at Razor.
The latter tilted his head to the side. “Razor doesn’t . . . get it.”
“Well, in the books I’ve read, the guys confess to the girls they like in a dangerous time. I don’t know how that’s safe, but it works. But since we don’t want to hurt ( Your Name ), you’ll save her before confessing!”
Bless his innocent heart, Razor trusted Bennett’s word without a smidge of doubt. His opportunity to admit his feelings came when the two of you saw Reckless Pallad being surrounded by Hilichurls getting ready to pounce on him. The thing is you too knew your way around a battlefield and have efficiently begun fighting off the Hilichurls. Razor watched as you made quick work of rescuing Reckless Pallad and he didn’t even notice himself beginning to pout in disappointment until you were right in front of him again, worriedly gazing at him.
“Razor, what’s wrong?” You questioned, appraising him. “You’re not injured, are you?”
He shook his head. “Razor not injured.” He confirmed.
“Well, that’s good, but why aren’t you moving? We need to save that man.”
“Razor wanted to confess to ( Your Name ) by saving her.”
Razor explained the plan of his confession he conspired with Bennett, how he would save you from danger and tell you his everlasting love that he didn’t notice the redness tinting your cheeks and the wide smile stretching across your face.
Razor only took note of the phenomenon occurring on your features when he has finished elaborating his scheme. He narrowed his eyes curiously. “Your face is all . . . red. Sick?” He asked.
Razor didn’t have a chance to further speculate just exactly was ailing you before you took hold of his face and softly placed your lips against him, catching him off guard.
There was a blossom in his chest when you kissed him – this is love, right? Razor decided there and then he liked this feeling of love.
Needless to say, Reckless Pallad was left alone for the Traveler to save. Again.
Razor had no idea what weddings were. He has never heard of such thing before. The first time he did learn about it was when he was hanging out with you and the Traveler. The latter mentioned that you and him are invited in a wedding. Razor tilted his head in confusion but when he turned to ask you what it was, he froze. Your eyes were shimmering with joy and excitement. Razor liked seeing you like that.
So when you were preoccupied, Razor asked the Traveler what a wedding was. Perhaps a wedding was some sort of food that he can find in the wild?
After Traveler has explained what weddings are and the concept of marriage as well, Razor did not waste time trying to propose to you. Since he had no money to buy a very expensive ring, he asked Bennett for help to find materials so he can make one of his own. In the end, they had Wagner help them form a ring. It wasn’t exactly the best looking but when Razor showed it to you and asked for your hand in marriage (Traveler helped him with his proposal speech and had to explain that asking for your hand doesn’t mean literal), and he saw the pure joy on your face, he thought it was pretty enough for you.
Razor didn’t know you were happy mostly because he proposed to you but you didn’t tell him. He looked so proud with the ring.
Your wedding was small and only a very few people were invited. Klee insisted on being one of the flower girls and Razor almost agreed until she began spouting about bombs which will detonate in the air and will explode with flowers. Albedo advised Razor not to make her one of the flower girls because Klee, for sure, will bring flower bombs (it will explode with flowers, but the explosion is still there).
Razor chose Bennett as his best man. That was supposed to be a good thing but when the two of those pair up together, they can tend to cause a lot of chaos, unintentionally.
At the day of the wedding, nearly all the invitees refuse to enter the cathedral as they claim there was danger inside. When Kaeya and Jean came to inspect this danger they speak of, both wielded their weapons once seeing a pack of wolves huddled at the front, just before the altar, with Bennett and Razor telling them to behave.
You had to explain to Razor why it was dangerous and made people uncomfortable when there are wolves present in the cathedral. Although Razor was understandably disappointed by this, he conceded and brought his Lupicals back to Wolvendom. To make it up to him, you promised a private celebration will be held in Wolvendom with nobody else but you, him, Bennett, and of course, his Lupicals.
Razor didn’t know why Bennett seemed more nervous than him when the two of them were standing by the altar.
“I’m going to ruin your wedding, Razor! Aren’t you worried?”
“ . . . but you not ruining anything . . . ?”
When you finally arrived in the cathedral, Razor felt excitement surge in his body and he can hardly stop himself from squirming on his seat.
But he wasn’t smiling. These emotions . . . he was having a hard time comprehending them. It was good, it was nice, but it was overwhelmingly so.
He could have cried, and he almost did but when you were before him, smiling at him, he couldn’t help but smile back.
His beautiful wife, his Lupical.
Bennett was the one who cried in your wedding.
ALBEDO
It was always a fascinating sight to see a traveler meandering through Dragonspine without minding the sheer cold or flawlessly fending themselves off from the enemies lurking around. Even Albedo has some degree of difficult in navigating his way back to his camp without the Fatui spotting him or tailing him. But it was more fascinating to see a young woman standing in the middle of a freezing lake with nothing but her trousers and her brassiere.
It was a peculiar meeting, yes, but out of the ordinary people and matters has always endeared him.
Albedo brought you to his camp as quickly as he can and asked Timaeus to hand you a cup of warm tea and a blanket. After thanking him for his kindness and consuming half of the beverage generously given to you, you introduced yourself.
You were an adventurer who came all the way from Liyue to embark on a journey to discover the harshness and secrets that laid within Dragonspine, a mountain many do not dare set foot further in. Other than the mentioned reasons, training was a top priority of yours. You claim one cannot go further in their adventure while being comfortable in their current, and he completely agrees with your statement. When Albedo questioned why you had been in the middle of a lake in Dragonspine, you answered that being able to withstand the cold was just part of your training and seeing as he had caught you shivering to close to death, it was not going well.
Albedo didn’t think he would see you again after you parted from him, but he was surprised when the next day he found you waiting for him in his camp, a smile on your face as you stand proudly and wave at him.
Something about you piqued his interest, if his interest was somehow related to how his heart accelerated whenever you come close to him to offer help with his experiment, or when his face grows hot if you offer him a compliment. He thought it was your way of showing him your gratefulness for taking care of you yesterday, so he allowed your presence in his camp, around him. Albedo didn’t expect you to visit again the next day, and the day after that, and so on and so forth. But he can’t say he disliked your frequent visitations, or your presence that always seem to be following him everywhere he went. He very much liked your company and thoroughly enjoyed listening about your adventures and everything you came across in your adventure. They were a good distraction from his experiments. Everything about you set his mind in ease.
It wasn’t long until the two of you are spending more time together alone. No experiments, no work in mind. It just the two of you keeping one another company and sharing stories about your days, and making banters here and there – whether it be in a walk under the moon, or sharing a meal in Good Hunter, or while he paints somewhere in Dragonspine.
Although Albedo was not well versed in the complexity of romance and has deemed relationships to be rather tedious to uphold, but he was knowledgeable enough to know that in the process of his growing friendship with you, he has caught feelings for you.
This has certainly brought difficulty in his relationship with you. Albedo, although never verbally admitting so, has always thought of feelings as a nuisance. In a relationship, in his own observation, disadvantages trump over advantages. He had seen the irrationality that love has caused, the stupidity. His observation led him to one conclusion – other than being friends with people, relationships is not for him.
You have put him in a challenging situation. It would have been easy to cut ties with you if you haven’t successfully infiltrated his walls and snaked your way in his heart. The very thought of pushing you away was repulsive to him. Seeing the hurt cross your features – it will haunt him for the rest of his life.
The interest he had for you was not interest at all. It was the beginning of love. He should have been more alert, and this wouldn’t have happened.
What if you returned his feelings and your relationship did not work? There was no way your friendship could be salvaged. Isn’t it much better to remain as friends than risk ruining any chance of keeping you in his life?
No, no, that would be insanely idiotic. It will eat him up. Thus, he treated his feelings for you like an experiment. Dipping carefully, testing the waters – confessing to you.
He can construct a confession that will perfectly enunciate his feelings for you while emphasizing your freedom to reject him and his desire to remain good friends with you. Surely, you didn’t reciprocate his feelings. All he needed is for you to let him down, and he will hope you can still see him the same way after.
All his preparations, however, were thrown out of the window when you beat him to confessing.
Albedo had no idea how struck his expression must have been with puzzlement, anxiety and flatter as he attentively listens to every word that leaves your lips. His heart pounded at everything you were saying – everything he adored about you, you adored about him. Being unable to speak his mind felt foreign to him. After you finished your confession, a beautiful red hue coloring your cheeks as you looked into his eyes with hopefully eyes, all he can do his open his mouth a smidge, and close, and then open again. He must have resembled a goldfish at that time.
Albedo couldn’t believe it. You loved him, and here he was expecting to be rejected and thinking relationships were a waste of time.
He was in a dilemma now. Accept your feelings as his heart desired to, or gently reject you for practicality? Having a lover would complicate his life and he will risk so many things that he were used to just to be able to keep his relationship with you fruitful. Was he ready for something like that?
This was the first time Albedo has listened to his heart. He still remembered how he cupped your face in his hands and pressed his lips against yours, muffling the gasp that tumbled out of you.
Albedo might be a stranger to romance but he is an Alchemist and risks are part of his job, and risking coming out of his comfort to be with you was something you deserve, and maybe something he deserved as well.
You knew Albedo was going to propose to you. He was always immersed in his experiments and research that you took the responsibility of tidying up his lab. It did not take long for you to find a small black box nestled in the back inside a drawer filled with haphazardly thrown papers and used pens.
Albedo knew that you knew he was going to propose to you. The two of you were taking a peaceful stroll around Dragonspine and after a heartfelt speech, he knelt down to one knee, he curiously watched as you malfunctioned right in front of him, trying to elect which route of surprise should you take before displaying a less then satisfactory theatrics of surprise.
Nonetheless, the two of you are still happy.
You and Albedo agreed that the two of you will have a small and private wedding. Klee, however, did not. She was less than thrilled to hear about that and went on a whole spiel of the reasons why you should have the biggest and most fun wedding ever, as she said.
“ - then where will a really, really tall wedding cake and Klee is going to make a bomb that will explode in the skies where it will burst out many pretty flower petals - ”
Jean promised the two of you that she will keep an eye on her at the day of the wedding.
Albedo is adamant on two things - a small wedding, and having no best man, and the latter had two reasons. Although he is highly respected in Mondstadt, there was no one he could ask to be best man, and the second reason is that he loves you and is certain that marrying you is something he wants. No doubts. He didn’t need a best man helping him in something he didn’t need help with.
Albedo was also not someone to conform to the ritual of not seeing the bride on the day of the wedding until the very ceremony, but for you, he begrudgingly followed.
On the day of the wedding, Albedo prepared himself without the help of anyone. He prepared his own clothes and had Klee braid his hair (it was a wee bit sloppy and Albedo fixed them when she had her back turned to him and gave her all the credit).
The man reached for the door to visit you but he let out a sigh when he realized that he cannot. He made a promise that today, the first time he’ll see you is when you walk down the aisle. He has to keep his promise. Not to mention Klee blocked his way and reminded him of that (tried to block).
Albedo was a patient man. Patience was nothing new to him. His research and experiments needed patience or they will ultimately fail. It came to the point where being impatient made him uncomfortable. That’s exactly what was happening when he was standing at the altar. Nobody, not even the observant Kaeya himself, can tell Albedo was beginning to lose his patience.
The day had been a little too long. He wanted to see you already. It didn’t matter if the ceremony would take a while before he can kiss you and call you his wife. He just wanted to see you again.
Albedo turned away the moment you stepped inside the cathedral. You were far from repulsive or ugly (and he can never think of you like that), but he had to cast his gaze somewhere but on you. He knew you’ll be beautiful in your wedding dress, but seeing you now with your adorable and shy smile, with Cecilia flowers in your hands, and your eyes fixated on him and only him - Albedo nearly lost his composure.
This time he was sure Kaeya saw it.
“Waah, big sister ( Your Name ) looks soooo pretty!” Klee cooed loudly, causing the guests to let out a few chuckles of amusement.
His impatience was beginning to pierce through him. The moment you faced him, Albedo did not waste time grabbing your hands, and once he did, you saw him visibly soften, as though a huge burden was lifted from his shoulders.
“What happened to you?” You asked, giggling.
Albedo returned your smile. “I’m just very happy to see you.”
The fervor that he exuded when he kissed you certainly supported his statement.
THOSE WHO WILL HIDE IN THE MIDDLE OF THE RECEPTION TO CRY SOMEWHERE NO ONE CAN SEE THEM
CHONGYUN
Chongyun was known for two things – being an exorcist and having a type of condition that needed his keen observation and awareness.
He has always disliked his condition. Whenever his Yang energy overwhelms, he must immediately consume an icy treat to be able to soothe his nerves. But it seems he can be thankful for it for this one time. If it wasn’t for his congenital positivity, he wouldn’t have stumbled across you, and your hundred homemade ice cream you smuggled out of your own home.
Chongyun had been hurrying to meet his friend at that day. He had just finished an exorcism somewhere in Qingce Village and was rushing to where he and Xingqiu usually meet in Liyue. He was already running late, and who knows what Xingqiu will do if he was late again. He let out a pained yelp when he crashed against your form when he made a sharp turn, and his Yang energy has never been in a more unstable state than when he saw you seated on the ground, groaning in pain, with peculiar looking containers littering the floor around you.
Chongyun had profusely apologized for his actions and assisted you in gathering all the belongings he had knocked off your possession. He felt the coldness in the small containers you once held and wondered what was inside. He hasn’t seen anything like this before. He knew his Yang energy was starting to ooze out of him but he underestimated its manifestation until you placed your hand over his forehead. He pulled back away instantly, startled by your actions, to which you immediately apologized.
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He repeated, light blue hair bobbing with his movements as he bowed his head over to you again and again, mortification palpable on his features. “I-I didn’t mean to run – ”
“No, no, I should be the one apologizing! I wasn’t looking where I was going and I put my hand on you all of a sudden – ” You were about to continue spewing apologies and explanations when you froze, concern etching across his face. “ - oh, hey, you’re really, really red. Are you okay?”
Even when it had been years since his encounter with you, he still gets embarrassed when he remembered that, and you and Xingqiu tease him about it.
He explained to you then about his condition and when you offered him a container you owned containing ice cream you made, that’s when your friendship begun. When the two of you snuck out to a secluded area in Liyue Harbor to gorge on the tons of ice cream you have once again brought out of your house despite your mother’s warnings did he know it would be a friendship that will last long. His only regret was that he introduced you to Xingqiu, and now he must endure double the teasing.
One thing he appreciated about you was how ready you were whenever you were with him. You made it your point to know what can cause his condition to act up and soothe him by your words, and always having ice cream with you. And the best part was that the ice cream you give him is always homemade, made by you. His popsicles could never compete to your masterpiece.
He never really thought of you as someone he would be romantically interested in. Sure, there were instances when his Yang energy would flare up because of having you by his side, when your smile brought upon his own, when his heart raced when you held his hand as the two of you were returning from a commission, when he gazed at you with adoration when you took care of him and fed him cold noodles when he was having a fever (he refused to eat hot noodles even in his illness). Surely, all friends do that with one another, right? And feeling this odd sensation in his chest was normal, right?
When he confided in Xingqiu with this, the boy laughed at his cluelessness. It wasn’t surprising. Chongyun did not have a lot of friends so distinguishing friendship and romance was not easy for him. The Hydro Vision holder filled him in with everything he has to know about relationships, and he used some pretty unconventional ways like giving him a too descriptive image of how a man and woman would kiss, and other explicit doings of adults.
But it did bring light one thing – Chongyun liked you, and of course how he handled such revelation was, simply put, disastrous.
His entire body felt hot, and he was stammering to the point even the ever so eloquent Xingqiu cannot understand him. Normally, when things get like this, he’ll rush over to your place and request for some of your delicious ice cream but seeing as you were somehow part of the reason for this, he had to rely on Xingqiu to take care of him.
After learning about his feelings for you, Chongyun have never been more uneasy around you, which was odd, and he was sure you’ve noticed, and yet has never dropped any comment about it.
He was always nervous around you. Blushing whenever you come close to him, jumping when you take his hand in his, stammering whenever you praise him for anything, feeling the need to run away if you ask him about how he was fairing – he has lost count just how many popsicles he has eaten just to keep his cool. He has stopped asking ice cream from you and declined any offer from you because he thought accepting your homemade ice creams could lead him to falling deeper in love with you until he couldn’t move on anymore.
Chongyun didn’t notice your growing impatience. He was so immersed in his own feelings that he didn’t take into consideration how you felt whenever he flinched away from your touch and rejected your treats.
It took Xingqiu for the growing tension between the two of you to alleviate. He made an elaborate plan to get the two of you together in an isolated place (a broom closet) and has made a claim not to let any of you go until the two of you have confessed your feelings with each other.
“Just tell me what’s wrong with you, Chongyun! Why are you acting so weird around me?” You asked him but he refused to answer you just as he refused to look at you.
You let out a sigh as you reached out to take his hand but when he pulled away from your touch, that was the last straw.
“If you don’t want to be friends with me anymore, just say so.”
Alarmed, Chongyun faced you, stuttering. “No! Of course, I want to be friends with you - I mean, I don’t want to be friends - wait, that sounded wrong, and so bad - ”
Your brows burrowed together in question. “You want to be friends but you don’t want to be friends?”
Chongyun groaned as he buried his face on his hands. It’s now or never.
“I like you, ( Your Name ).”
The silence that followed was deafening for Chongyun. He removed his hands from his face and prepared himself to apologize and beg to continue being friends when he felt hands cup his face, and your lips pressing against his. It was a good thing you had ice cream on you even after he avoided you for weeks. He almost fainted in your arms if it wasn’t for you shoving a finger in his mouth with a scoop of ice cream.
It was one of the few times Chongyun was grateful for Xingqiu’s interest in romantic tropes because if it wasn’t for him, he wouldn’t have left that room with a blushing but happy face with you.
Xingqiu smirked as the two of you exited the room, hand in hand and redness coating your cheeks. “Well, well, well, look who - ”
“Shut up, Xingqiu,” You and Chongyun chorused. The two of you looked at each other out of surprise and then burst out laughing, all the while the Hydro Vision user stood by the side, sighing.
“Now, I have to deal with these two’s teasing.”
When Chongyun realized he was ready to propose to you after years of being together, he asked Xingqiu to propose to you on his behalf.
His best friend nearly destroyed his book from whacking the Cryo user for thinking such an inane idea could work. Not only was it not romantic, it was also inappropriate. Xingqiu had to reprimand him for an entire hour proposing that idea but being a good best friend that he is despite his mischievous streak, he vowed to help the man propose to you.
It was no easy task and there were times where Chongyun held himself back and risking yet another proposal plan. He was thankful Xingqiu was well versed with romance and everything entailed with it and knew more ways to help him. After a countless of delays, Chongyun managed to get down on one knee one fine evening by the trails leading to Liyue Harbor, spew out affirmation of his love for you in stammers, and asked for your hand in marriage.
When you accepted his proposal and adorned your finger with the ring, Chongyun discreetly showed a thumbs up to a nearby bush. About three hands popped out from the leaves, offering the same action.
Xingqiu let out a sigh as Xiangling and Xinyan giggled. “Finally.” He breathed out. “Now, time for me to be his best man.”
Of course, Chongyun chose him as his best man. Who else would be a better choice than him?
Chongyun is firm about Xingqiu being his best man but sometimes he can be a little bit . . . pushy, especially when it comes to something he believes in.
There was a tradition where he cannot see you for a whole week until the ceremony. Chongyun was mildly bothered by this arrangement but nonetheless, since you agree with it, he will respect your wishes and do the same. Xingqiu has over and over again tried to persuade him to visit you at home, and he made some interesting points why he should. He almost convinced him a few times but in the end, he refused to be lured in his trap and stopped the temptation of breaking his promise.
He missed you dearly, yes, and his patience will surely be rewarded soon.
Chongyun, as expected, was freaking out at the day of wedding. Marriage is a huge step for the both of you. You’re not going to regret marrying him, will you? What if this marriage didn’t work? He’ll lose you for you.
Xingqiu had to guide him away from the altar and to a corner for privacy. Other than you, Xingqiu was a person who had been when his condition start acting up and how it worked.
After successfully cooling him down with a popsicle, Xingqiu consoled Chongyun. “I don’t know what you’re thinking about back there but you have nothing to worry about. ( Your Name ) loves you.”
“What if it doesn’t work between us?”
“It will. I’ve seen how you two are. You’re perfect for each other. I think you already know that, and ( Your Name ) does too. Why would she accept your proposal if she didn’t think the two of you wouldn’t prosper together?”
Chongyun murmured. “Pity?”
If Xingqiu had a book with at that moment, he would have smacked Chongyun again.
Once his condition has subsided, Chongyun returned to the altar and Xingqiu stood behind him, waiting.
The moment you arrived, Chongyun can feel himself heating up and his heart pounding against his chest. It felt like his condition was acting up but he wasn’t feeling nauseous or at the edge of fainting. It was a pleasant sort of warmth, the warmth he felt when he first met you.
No. It was the same warmth that travels through his body whenever he sees you, but this time, it was stronger to the point he it almost felt like his condition.
Your smile immediately disappeared when you saw Chongyun flushed red and his eyes averting from yours.
Worry encapsulated you. “Is your condition acting up?” You asked in a whisper.
Chongyun blinked, puzzled. “What?”
Discreetly taking a gander at the audience completely unaware of your interaction, you slipped your hand under your dress and showed Chongyun was a small ice cream container.
“I brought this with me just in case.”
Chongyun decided he made the best decision of his life to marry you.
He took your hands in his and pressed a small kiss on top of one.
“Thank you, love.”
After the wedding, Chongyun immediately visited the comfort room. You tried to follow him but Xingqiu told you there was nothing to worry about, and he was right.
When he entered the comfort room, Chongyun locked the door behind him and headed straight to the sink to splash some water on his face.
One won’t be able to tell Chongyun was crying from the water streaming down his face.
He looked up at the mirror, staring at his reflection as he let out a small, and content sigh.
“I’m married. I’m married to her.” Chongyun tried to hold back his smile, but he failed. “She’s my . . . wife.”
And did it sound nice to call you his wife.
XIAO
It was his duties to Rex Lapis, to the thriving land of Liyue, that kept Xiao grounded and his mind temporarily fleeting away from the karmic debts that weighed on his shoulders. If it had not been for the responsibilities laid down on him, he was sure to have succumb to the consequences of his bloodshed from the past long ago. It was the reason behind his creation, to serve the people of Liyue and protect them from any transgressors or anything that could potentially lead to their destruction, and it was all he knew. His existence was all for Liyue, and to seek out the desires of Rex Lapis and accomplish them no matter how difficult and by what means.
Day and night he oversees every part of Liyue and hears every call of his name and seeks refuge in Wangshu Inn. It was a cycle that has never changed ever since the gruesome war between gods has taken place in Teyvat, and all was same until that night when he heard a cry for help from a distant place, and rescued a strange maiden from the peril she found herself in.
Love at first sight disgusted him the most. He can understand, to some degree, that mortals can fall in love with people they have built a caring and trusting relationship with but falling in love with someone who one has no dust of knowledge of their identity was simply unwise and incomprehensible. And yet there he was, leaping from the precipice of a soaring mountain and securing the mortal in the middle of her fall.
Xiao had no clue why it felt like time has stopped and they have gently floated in the air as he took a gander at the woman in his arms. Scratches littered her features, and twigs adorned her mop of hair, but she still shone brighter than the stars and moon behind her.
He did not let her speak to him after he has placed her safely on solid ground and he quickly took his leave without even a glance back.
When he had painted the lands of Teyvat red with the other Yakshas, he did not blink an eye or feel a bead of sweat trail on the side of his face. But that woman has caused his chest to flutter, and he always find himself thinking back to the day he had saved her. If he had been like any other mortal which has sleep as a necessity, he would find himself thinking of you every morning and every night, longing for another chance to meet you again. What has she done to him? He already has to carry the burden of his sins, and now he must endure this painful curse she casted on him?
But it didn’t matter now. She was already long gone, for all he knows, and he doesn’t even know her name.
Xiao already came to accept that she was merely going to fleet away from his mind, a distant memory that his heart will ache every time he remembers her. He had many regrets in his lifetime, and this leaving her behind without knowing her name is one of them.
But it seems to him that Rex Lapis has taken favor of him and has graced his undeserving existence. Xiao had just exterminated a Hilichurl camp getting increasingly close to Wangshu Inn when his ears preened and his pupils dilated – that voice, the same voice that he never thought he’d hear again, was calling out for him again. He did not find the time to dispose of the monsters in a more appropriate location where they will no longer continue their venture towards the inn, and quickly made his way to where he heard her.
When he arrived, it did not take long for him to spot her standing perfectly still in front of him, hands behind her back. His eyes dilated as he took in her familiar form. Her tresses were no longer matted with twigs and mud, the scratches that once marred her skin no longer present, and a smile has replaced the cowering fear that adorned her visage before.
Xiao ignored the increasing heartbeat that drummed against his chest and surveyed the area with a flick of his spear. “There’s no danger.” He remarked after assessing the parameter, his mask dissipating into the night as he returned his gaze back at her.
She rubbed her arm as she averted her eyes from him. “I spent months trying to find you again.” The mortal woman murmured. “When all has failed, I thought back to that night you saved me, and I called – and you came.”
Xiao did not speak another word, but he was afraid that you can hear how loud his heart was racing. He needed to ignore his selfishness, he needed to leave. “If you’re not in any danger, then I’ll be leaving.”
He turned around to do as he said, but his eyes widened when he felt your hand around his wrist.
“Wait, please,” She pleaded, and when he looked over his shoulder, any resolve of leaving her again vanished. She was looking at him with hopeful and vibrant orbs. How can he ever let her down when she’s looking at him like that?
Xiao let out a sigh and turned back around to meet her properly, but her hand never left him. Were you afraid he might disappear as quickly as he did like last time?
“Don’t go.”
“Why not?” Xiao questioned. “If you know anything about an Adeptus, then you understand my duties.”
She bit her lip as he withdrew her hold. Xiao missed the warmth she gave him already. “I know that but . . . ” She trailed off. “ . . . can I . . . at least know your name?”
Xiao did not give her an answer.
“Even if we never meet again, I want to at least know the name of man who saved me.” She mumbled softly. “But I’m afraid if I ever know your name, I’ll never get to think of any other man but you.”
Xiao appraised you, taking in her apprehensive frame. A mortal has fallen in love with an Adeptus? This was preposterous. He saved her months ago, and back then they shared little time together. Too little to gain feelings for him.
But still, he found himself relenting to your wishes.
“Xiao,” He answered. “My name is Xiao.”
Don’t look for another man. I’m here. I’m staying.
That’s how he met his first and last love, ( Your Name ).
Xiao has lived in Teyvat for thousands of years and is knowledgeable of the culture of mortals, one of them being marriage. He had witnessed humans bounding themselves to another, promising to cherish them, protect them, to love them. For Xiao, marriage is something far from disgusting. Although he cannot understand the need for them to be together under an oath, it was undeniable that many great things and opportunities birthed from them.
However, no matter how beautiful it is for them, it will never stop perplexing Xiao. How is it that one can look at another and know that they’re the one? Are they not afraid to be betrayed? Are humans so willing to have themselves get hurt and offer forgiveness for the sake of love? It’s confusing for him.
Not until you came along that it made sense. Every argument, every disagreement, sleepless nights, every sincere apology, every countless forgiveness, every embrace, every kiss - is this what mortals feel? If so, he’ll endure all the hardships of love if it means staying by your side, and he knew that you feel the same.
Unfortunately, Xiao is not one for marriage.
Not that he does not love you - oh Archons, because he did, deeply so - but the consequences of your relationship always hang in front of him.
It’s already a risk to let you in his heart and love someone as sinful as him, but the thought of you bearing his karmic debt terrified him.
What happens if the two of you are bound together, and under a contract that Rex Lapis will surely oversee? Will the demons that torment him sink their teeth on your pure and innocent soul? Will he see the life in your eyes wither as you strive to remain with him? And what if you try to break the contract to escape karma? Will the both of you suffer in karma and the wrath of the rock?
Xiao can’t do that to you. This is one way he can guarantee your safety. It hurts him to know he cannot marry you, and it hurt more when he saw the disappointment and pain in your eyes when he explained himself. But keeping you safe is his top priority. He deserved this punishment, he can’t put it over your shoulders too.
But that didn’t stop Xiao from imagining how your wedding could have been if things we’re a little different.
A small wedding in a place of your choice with only a handful of close friends and families. You’ll wear a gorgeous dress and walk up to where he is with the same smile you wore when he met you for the second time.
As you stand before him, Xiao could only imagine the happiness and contentment he would feel at that time.
He’ll hold you close, hear you laugh, and then he’ll press his lips against yours, sealing you to a promise that everything that he is, and everything that he has, is yours.
He’ll find himself retreating somewhere private. He didn’t want you to see him vulnerable, weak, as he cried for the first time in his life, and for the greatest reason.
He could have a chance of happiness, but he can’t.
It was all a dream.
A dream he will never achieve, a dream of yours that he can never grant.
“Xiao, you’re still awake?”
The man looked away from the moon and looked over his shoulder to see you standing by the threshold leading to the terrace. You were tired, and yet you woke up to tend to him.
“You know I don’t need sleep.”
“But you always lie next to me. What’s wrong? Something bothering you?”
Xiao did not respond, and you didn’t push any further. He adored it how you know when to prod to a subject or not. You know him so well.
After a moment of silence, you walked over to him and sat beside him on the railing. You looked up at the moon, and Xiao slowly placed his head over your shoulder.
He felt at peace.
Xiao closed his eyes, dreaming of a day that will never come when he can marry you without anything holding him back.
KAZUHA
Kazuha can no longer remember how long it has been since he was on the run from the shogunate. The Electro Archon and her subjects are on the hunt for Visions of every single person residing in the walls of Inazuma, and he was one of the few who refused to have their Visions confiscated from them. It seems exiling him from his homeland was no longer sufficient and the said Archon has ordered for every so-called transgressor that they banished to be apprehended and have their Visions forcefully taken from them. It was only his luck that Beidou, and the crew she captained, has taken him under their wing and he has been sailing the seas with them since then.
Has it been months? Days? Or perhaps weeks? Being away from land with nothing but the ocean to take in and his mind seemingly always preoccupied with his doubts and worries has him losing track of time.
In all honesty, he doesn’t remember the last time he stepped on dry land. Perhaps they did, but it was not a memory that has fleeted a long time ago. All he can think about was Inazuma, the threat of being having his Vision taken, and his past he buried deep within the back of his mind.
Beidou must have taken notice of his continuous lackluster attitude and has set sail for Liyue for him to take a break from the seas. This, of course, he appreciated though he insisted Beidou that she did not have to dock just for him to clear his mind.
Back at that time Beidou claimed she knew what is best for him and she should put his trust on him, and with the lack of reasons to refute her statement, Kazuha merely let out a sigh and agreed to land in Liyue.
He has never been to Liyue, or to put it more accurately, he has never stepped foot in in the few times the Crux made their return on Liyue. It wasn’t because he hated it there, but he felt more comfortable and more at home inside the ship. The furthest he has gone was on the docks to help the crew load supplies in their next sail. But now Beidou has encouraged him to leave the ship and explore, and implied being forbidden to come aboard if he refused to do as she says.
When Beidou said she knows what is best for him, maybe she was right. He must admit, even if he was still longing to return to his homeland, Liyue had many sights and delicacies to offer. But the best and most beautiful sight he saw was up on a rooftop when he was resting from hours of mindless meandering in the streets.
He played with a green leaf that fluttered over to him after it has been carried away by the wind from its tree, and he pressed his lips against it to whistle a melody. The tune was buried under the bustle of the city night but it seems that one picked it up from the terrace just below him.
Kazuha saw a girl around his age walk out to the terrace, head moving left and right, as though looking for something. Kazuha did not think much of this behavior assuming she was searching for something else, and he tore his eyes away from her and nonchalantly continued to whistle against the leaf.
“So, that was you who was making that beautiful sound.”
Kazuha casted his gaze down to see the girl on the terrace looking up at him as she leaned against the railing with her arms crossed, a gleeful smile present on her brims. He pulled the leaf from his lips as he regarded her. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to – ”
She shook her head, chuckling. “No, no, it’s fine. You can stay there.” She assured, and Kazuha eased on his spot. She stared at the leaf in his hand. “I didn’t know you can make a tune using a leaf.”
Kazuha flashed her a small smile. “It’s something only a few can do. It’s pretty hard to master.”
“And you’re one of those few.” She remarked. Silence prevailed between the two until she spoke again. “Can you play something for me?”
Kazuha was bewildered by her request. It wasn’t common to find a foreigner sitting on the rooftop of her household. One would think that their first reaction should be an accusation of trespassing and a demand for identification, but no. This girl was different, you were different.
Kazuha did not question your request, just as you have not questioned him of his place on your rooftop. Instead, he granted your wish. He pressed the leaf against his lips and blew, a tune of his own composition sounding in the air.
He watched in awe as you raised both your hands to your chest and white particles formed above your palm, creating a shape until it formed and bloomed into an elegant wooden lyre. Without saying anything else, you strum the strings along with his tune, and the people of Liyue beneath their feet are unaware of the small haven the two of them created together.
Kazuha is more than grateful for Beidou for pushing him to go to Liyue. Ever since that night, he has made constant visits to your house. Early in the morning – that’s when Beidou would barge into the barracks and force them out of their beds – he would always be the one out of the door to finish his tasks and leave immediately to visit you, a prominent smile over his face. The crew, of course, has pestered him to tell him of the reason for his constant leaving and he could only let out a sigh of relief when Beidou shooed them away from him and asked them to return to their work. She winked at him right after and whispered, “Go and hurry to your girlfriend.” To which he denied with a shy grumble before making haste to Liyue.
Liyue was brighter than the isolationist Inazuma has become, and one of the reasons Kazuha thought this was you. The Crux was like a family to him, and Beidou was like an older sister to him, but you – he has never felt more soothed than in your presence. You felt like home, and it has been so long since he had felt like he was at home. Seeing you smile, hearing you laugh, seeing how you nod attentively as he talked, your arms embracing him when he opened up to you about his past, the music you played together in perfect harmony even without practice – it was all so surreal.
Kazuha didn’t have to tell you about his growing feelings for you. He knew that you knew.
It started with a shy kiss, and then a longer one, and the two of you found solace in each other’s arms. There was no music playing, and there were no stories shared – just him with his arms around your figure and lips connected with yours. None of you dare say it but your days together were slowly coming to an end, and it won’t be long until the day comes when he has to set sail to visit neighboring nations.
But Kazuha will always come back to you, that he promises.
After a few years of frequent visiting and writing letters to one another, Kazuha has finally decided that it was time for him to propose to you. Beidou - being the supportive big sister she is to him - upon hearing of his plan, gathered her crew to help Kazuha in his objective. Everything from food, drinks, location (they chose the ship), and atmosphere, they provided. As thanks for their dedication and help, they only ask an invitation to his wedding, to which Kazuha replied will surely come even if they did not help.
The crew claimed that they shall be far away as possible from the ship so that the two of you can have your privacy, but Kazuha, and definitely you, as well, heard loud cheering from a short distance followed by a shushing Beidou when you accepted his proposal.
“I thought they said they’d be at Wanmin Restaurant - ”
“To be honest, I didn’t really believe them.”
Unlike the other boys who were hesitant of not seeing the bride for a week until the wedding, Kazuha was actually the one to push this tradition. He disliked it as much as the other boys, but Kazuha loved being able to give you his all. Not being able to see you for a week is a sure way for him to crave for your presence, and once the two of you see each other again, he’ll pour out every love and care for you then.
You were dismayed by this whole arrangement but since it is important to Kazuha, you respected it.
The crew fought for the spot of best man, but in the end, all of them got to be best man. Kazuha did not have the heart to choose one from the crew, so he had to explain to you beforehand that the almost the entire male crew of The Crux are going to be standing with him at the ceremony.
It wasn’t a common occurrence in a wedding but you allowed it. The crew was like his family to him, and if it’s going to make him happy to have them as his best men, who are you to go against it?
At the day of the wedding, Beidou was the one to fret over Kazuha’s appearance. The Anemo user tried to calm her down but after she continually tried to fix his hair for the wedding, he just sighed and allowed her.
“I can’t believe you’re going to be married in just a few hours.” Beidou remarked in the quiet after a while. “To think you were just a teenager when we met you, and our little teenager is a big man now.”
“Nothing’s going to change. I’ll just be married.” Kazuha tried to ease her worries but he knew as well there are going to be major changes. One of being concerning his frequent endeavors with the crew. Once he gets married with you, he’d want to be with you always, to settle with you. But he was so used to the sea, to be living with the crew in a ship. Can he really get used to this coming change?
Beidou let out a sigh. She placed a hand over his head, patting him gently. She would have ruffled his hair but that would waste her effort on making it as presentable as she can.
“Things are going to change, Kazuha.” Stated Beidou, beaming. “And it’s not all bad. Trust me.”
Kazuha nodded, but he was still uneasy. He was ready to give himself to you, but at the same time, he wasn’t ready to leave the crew.
This thought haunted him even in the time of the ceremony. He should be focusing on the wedding but he couldn’t.
He needed to talk to you about this. You need to know what’s bothering him.
Was it possible to feel dread for the future while also looking forward to it?
Because it felt like a gust of wind billowed his direction when his eyes landed on you. Beautiful, you’re beautiful. What else can he say?
Was he really going to marry you? Whatever did you see in him? He was a banished Ronin from Inazuma. There must be some other man more worthy of you.
But you loved him, nobody else.
“Stop gawking at me like that. You’re making me embarrassed.” You murmured, cheeks flushed. He didn’t even notice you standing before him until you spoke.
Kazuha closed his parted lips as he turned away from you. “I . . . uh . . . ” He swallowed. “You look beautiful, ( Your Name ).”
“At least look at me when you say that, Kazu-kun.”
He looked at you, breathing in before speaking. “You look very, very . . . uh, pretty.”
You laughed a little. “You look very, very handsome, Kazuha.”
You took his hands in yours and gazed into his eyes, smiling. “Things are going to change once we get married.”
A pang of uneasiness struck Kazuha.
But what you said next shocked him.
“After this, I can finally be part of the crew and join you on your adventures in the sea!”
Kazuha gawked at you again, blinking.
Everyone invited to his wedding gasped when Kazuha suddenly kissed you out of nowhere in the middle of the ceremony.
Beidou, and the rest of the crew, however, cheered loudly for the two of you.
After the wedding, Kazuha snuck away from the reception for a while. He found a tree from a short distance and sat on the branch, breathing in the cool evening air.
He caught a fluttering leaf and smiled as he gazed at it and recalled how the two of you met.
Things will change, and soon, he’ll be adventuring with his wife in the vast ocean. Oh, he has so many things to show you.
#genshim impact x reader#genshin x reader#venti x reader#kaeya x reader#xingqiu x reader#scaramouche x reader#razor x reader#albedo x reader#chongyun x reader#xiao x reader#kazuha x reader
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All The Good Dreams
A/n this one is based on a request from @ateliefloresdaprimavera who requested a fic where General Kirigan has been dreaming of the reader for as long as he can remember and that’s one of his few reasons to smile and the reader has been having the same kinds of dreams about him and when they meet they just know.
This one is being written in third person bc it’s the only way I can see this fic being done but I’m a little insecure about writing in third person so be gentle lol
Also a little personal update I’ve been working on my original novel and it’s coming together y’all!!
--
ALEKSANDER.
The morning sunlight seems to only come to take her from him, peaking through the curtains and stirring him awake and away from his dreams. Aleksander keeps his eyes closed for a moment longer, trying to will her features to remain in his mind. She had looked more angelic in last night’s dream, dressed in all white and watching him with an adoration he doubted real life could duplicate.
The girl has haunted his dreams like a ghost of promise since before he began to change the world. Since before anything in his life was solidified. He lets out a sigh, something similar to a smile playing at his lips. Thinking of her would not bring her to him, if he could manifest her, she’d be by his side right now. He has things to do, duties and obligations that will bring his final goal closer. Each day is a step closer to victory, and each night brings the promise of dreams. The promise of her.
--
Y/N.
“Y/n.” The voice is gentle and distant. “Y/n,” a little harsher. “Wake up, you’ll be late.”
Fighting against grogginess, y/n wakes up, eyes squinting open. “What time is it, Danna?”
“Late.” Danna’s reply is curt as she steps away from y/n’s cot. “I thought you were awake already and then I came in to look for my boots and you were still asleep with that ridiculously peaceful look.” Danna paces around the room. “You must have been dreaming of your prince again?”
Y/n feels her skin warm. “He’s not a prince!” It’s a weak defense. “I regret telling you that almost every time I dream I see the same man.”
Danna drops down, grabbing her worn boots and pulling them on quickly. “You’re making me believe in soulmates, l/n.”
Y/n rolls her eyes, sitting up and placing her feet on the ground at her own leisure. “It’s nothing like that--I’m not even sure he exists.”
Lacing her shoes, Danna narrows her eyes at y/n. “Sure.” Y/n opens her mouth to protest, but Danna beats her to it, “If you need to argue with me, do it while getting dressed, we can’t be late today--General Kirigan’s visiting this camp for the first time and I doubt he’d appreciate being interrupted by a non-Grisha medic.”
At that, y/n wrinkles her nose, but she stands anyway. “Ugh...Grisha.” She walks towards her uniform. “They can get away with anything and I hear Kirigan’s the worst of all of them because he’s in the same order as the Black Heretic that began all of this.” Y/n pauses, crossing her arms. “And it’s ridiculous that the army even needs non-Grisha medics. Healers exist and they should not be primarily reserved for other Grisha who rarely get injured, especially to the extent that the rest of us do.”
“I know, y/n, but don’t speak like that until the General is gone.” Danna draws her lips into a thin line. “And hurry up before you get us both in trouble.”
Y/n lets out a sigh. “Go ahead without me, I’ll catch up.”
Danna eyes her friend wearily. “Alright, worse comes to worse I’ll try to cover for you.”
“You won’t need to.” Y/n isn’t sure she believes herself. “I’ll be there.”
Danna pulls on her second boot, raising an eyebrow. “I don’t really believe you.” She stands easily. “But knowing you, you’ll talk yourself out of any trouble the way you always do.”
“I do not always talk myself out of trouble.”
Turning to leave, Danna pauses, “Whatever you need to tell yourself.”
Y/n rolls her eyes. If she had more time to argue with Danna she would take it. But she doesn’t. She’s quick to get dressed, thoughts of the mysterious stranger from her dreams keeping her company. Last night he seemed more tired than normal, a crease between his dark eyebrows as he sat by her side. A part of her she keeps buried worries about him. It’s ridiculous, to concern yourself over a figment of comfort your mind created for you.
By the time y/n’s changed, she knows she doesn’t have much time to get to her station. She’s rushing out of her tent, one boot still untied. The medic bag she slings over her shoulder swings as she jogs towards the medical tent. Today the camp is hectic, everyone desiring to appear efficient and reliable for General Kirigan. It’s all ridiculous to Y/n. General Kirigan will never be impressed by them. If he’s revered even among Grisha, Y/n can’t imagine the superiority complex that man must possess.
Her eyes scan the soldiers and workers she knows so well, each of them behaving so differently than normal. There is no friendly chatter this morning, no casual banter. There is only the business of war.
Y/n watches the people she knows, so focused on their nerves that she barely registers the person she crashes into. “Sorry!” The apology leaves Y/n on instinct. Her bag falls off her shoulder, gauze and antiseptic falling onto the ground on impact. Y/n bends down instantly, beginning to pick up her supplies. She mentally curses herself for being so easily distracted and not properly shutting her bag this morning. “Everything’s so hectic today and I was running late and I just--I have no idea how I didn’t see you.” She drops her supplies back into her bag. “I guess it’s a good thing they keep me off the battlefield and in the medical tents.”
Reaching for the last of her supplies, Y/n’s eyes land on the shoes of the person she just crashed into. They’re leather. The fine kind of leather meant for marble halls, not trekking through the unknown. Y/n’s mouth goes dry as the possibility of the graveness of her mistake sets in her mind. She exhales slowly, daring to look upwards as she closes her bag.
When her eyes meet those of the stranger, she is left with no choice but to gape. She’s not staring because she’s now at the mercy of General Kirigan. She’s not staring because nothing could have prepared her for his beauty. She’s staring because she knows that face. She knows those sharp features and steady eyes.
His lips are slightly parted. Y/n is struck with the odd thought that perhaps he too has words wedged into his throat.
“It’s you.” The whisper leaves her faintly.
The words seem to unfreeze Kirigan, his expression moving from shocked to stoic. “Excuse me?”
Awkward regret floods through Y/n. She drops her head downwards, desperate to escape the power of his gaze. “General Kirigan.” She uses her words as a way to dismiss the emotions her chest seems to be brimming with as she stands. He’s not the man from her dreams. That’s impossible. “I apologize for my inappropriate behavior an--”
“No, no,” he shakes his head once. Y/n bites her tongue at his dismissal. “You said ‘it’s you.’”
Embarrassment knots her stomach. “I just hadn’t realized that I ran into you, General. I--I knew you were coming today, but I wasn’t expecting to see you much less like this.”
Kirigan’s eyes seem to be nothing more than inviting pools of kindling emotion. So familiar yet so distinct. He can’t be the man from her dreams. The man from her dreams must be nothing more than a composition of traits she finds generally attractive. General Kirigan just happens to possess those features. That explanation is the only thing that keeps Y/n’s feet rooted to the ground, but the longer she looks at him the more that explanation loses its strength. There’s just something so knowing behind his expression, so specific to the face that she’s only seen while asleep.
Tearing his gaze away to scan the area, Kirigan reaches forward, placing a hand on Y/n’s arm. The touch leaves Y/n warmer than it should. Maybe that’s why she lets him lead her forward, ducking into an empty medical tent. She keeps hold of her bag as he turns, his eyes full of something dark and unknown. But not angry, Y/n notes, no, not angry. The look is too peaceful for rage, perhaps even hopeful.
“When you looked at me…” He exhales, voice low and sacred, “You said ‘it’s you’.” Y/n can only blink, still mesmerized by something so foreign and familiar all at once. “Do you know me?”
In his urgency, Kirigan’s hold on Y/n’s arm becomes more assured. Something in Y/n wants to pry herself free in order to prove to herself that she’s capable of resisting his drawl. But his touch is not to trap her, the look in his eyes tells her that. His touch is pleading--desperate and hopeful.
“Everyone knows you,” when Y/n finally finds her voice, she is not convinced it is her own.
The corners of Kirigan’s mouth fall downwards, something in him threatening to deflate. “I meant--have you seen me before?” The question is not one Y/n is too willing to answer. How could she tell this strange man, this general she was convinced she’d dislike on some fundamental level while never speaking to him, that she knows him? She knows him like she knows her own beginning. “Because I’ve seen you.”
Y/n can’t help the way her eyes widen. This doesn’t mean anything, she warns herself, he could have seen her walking. “I didn’t see you, that--that’s why I ran into you--”
“No, you’re avoiding the question.” Her face is warmer than it was when Danna was teasing her this morning. It’s warmer than it’s ever been. “Because you’ve experienced it as well.”
The swelling in her chest is overwhelming. “Experienced what?”
Kirigan eyes the entrance to the tent once more, confirming that no one is approaching. “All of the good dreams,” he exhales, “They have been of you.”
Y/n can’t help the way everything in her melts. She’s not insane. She’s not projecting something dangerous onto the Shadow Summoner. “I see you in my dreams always.”
Slowly, he releases his grip on her arm. Watching her like she might be a mirage, Kirigan raises his hand, brushing his knuckles along Y/n’s cheek. She lets him, holding her breath until his hand falls back to his side. A part of Kirigan expected the girl to be a trick of the light, something that his touch would reveal to be a fallacy. But she remains true, watching him with eyes the size of saucers.
“How long I’ve been waiting for you, you’ll never know.” His voice is as heavy as a lament.
Y/n feels her back straighten slightly on instinct, desperate to pass whatever scrutiny is being passed over her. “How--how does this happen? How do two strangers dream of each other for so long and...”
Something knowing colors his smile a shade of ambitious green. “What is your name?”
“Y/n.”
Kirigan’s minds flit through lifetimes worth of faint memories. The girl laughing, the girl teary eyed, the girl embodying all the stars he’ll never have, the girl representing all he needs. Y/n. There’s finally a name to her.
“Y/n,” the name is a gift. Kirigan pulls a ring from his fingers before grabbing Y/n’s arm. Too lost in a strange euphoria, she lets him pull her arm forward before pressing his ring into her skin. Her brow furrows as he begins to guide the metal down her skin. That slight confusion quickly turns to total shock as a thread of light begins to spindle down her skin, following the path he’s creating with the ring. “You and I are going to change the world.”
--
General Taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship @mentally-in-northern-italy @uhanddreag @kaitlyn2907
#shadow and bone#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone x you#shadow and bone show#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone netflix#general kirigan#general kirigan x reader#general kirigan imagine#genereal kirigan imagine#aleksander morozova#aleksander morozova x reader#the darkling#the darkling x reader#the darkling imagine#ben barnes#the grishaverse#grishaverse#grishaverse x reader#grishaverse imagine
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an index of Horikoshi Kouhei interviews
these are organized by date, oldest to newest, and I’m including a brief bullet-point summary of each to make it easier to look up specific interviews by content.
also, please note that although I haven’t spoiler tagged this post, the interviews from roughly 2019 onwards include some spoilers, so please watch out for those if you’re anime-only or otherwise not caught up with the manga. that said, the other interviews I think are all good.
putting this below a cut to keep things tidy.
interview with Horikoshi Kouhei and Kishimoto Masashi, May 2015
(note: this is not the actual interview word-for-word, but includes the highlights)
Horikoshi talks about being a fan of Naruto when he was growing up
Horikoshi says he was inspired by the way Kishimoto shows emotion through drawing hands, and that he loves drawing hands thanks to Naruto
Horikoshi mentions that Gaara is his favorite character and that he really liked the Chuunin Exam arc
Kishimoto praises BnHA and says he knew it would be a hit when he read the second chapter
they talk a bit about the worldbuilding and the process of creating a story where 80% of the population has superpowers
they discuss Naruto and Sasuke’s rivalry and Horikoshi mentions that he found it “frustrating” and that he really liked the Valley of the End and thought it would be the end of the series. he says it was very emotional
they talk a little about the stress of writing manga and about the toll it takes on mental health
pre-anime interview, April 2016
talks about his reaction when he found out BnHA was getting an anime
talks about how the series originally came about
says that BnHA is the story of Izuku and All Might and that their story is the “vertical axis” which runs through the main story
says there is also a “horizontal axis”, which is the side characters and quirks and all of the other elements that he considers to be the “fun part” of the story which mellows out the darker aspects of the vertical axis
mentions that he really likes drawing and writing Bakugou
mentions Deku vs Kacchan 1 as one of the early highlights in the series for him
talks about Ochako being someone who has a more cheerful relationship with Deku, which balances out some of the heavier aspects of Deku and Katsuki’s relationship (again, horizontal vs vertical axis)
mentions that if he could pick any quirk he’d pick a “no need for sleep” quirk
talks about reading Dragon Ball as a child
mentions that he really likes American comic book heroes, especially Spider-Man
mentions Goku and Spider-Man as the two that come to mind when he thinks about heroes and what it means to be a hero (specifically, that Goku is the “win” aspect and that he brings reassurance to everyone, while Spider-Man is the “save” aspect who helps other people)
talks about hearing Deku and Bakugou’s voices in the anime for the first time, as well as Ochako, Iida, and All Might’s voices
another pre-anime interview with konomanga.jp, April 2016
(note: this interview is in Japanese, but Google translate does a servicable job with it)
talks more about Spider-Man, including his favorite costumes and comic artists
gives some American comic book recs
mentions that he likes Godzilla and Gamera and always goes to see those movies
talks about his Star Wars influences
talks about his favorite manga as a child -- Dragon Ball, One Piece, and Naruto
talks about becoming a manga artist, and about some of his influences
says that he likes drawing monsters, creatures, and villains, and says that he really liked drawing the panel where Tomura made his first appearance at USJ
talks a little about composition and frame movement in his work, and about the challenges of drawing a weekly manga
mentions that he knows what the story ending will be, but hasn’t yet figured out how to connect the dots to that point
interview with Horikoshi Kouhei and Umakoshi Yoshihiko in BnHA: Ultra Archive, May 2016
(note: Umakoshi is the anime character designer for BnHA. also, this interview was part of the Ultra Archive character book, so you’ll have to scroll a bit through its other contents in order to get to the interview.)
they talk about the process of creating the BnHA anime and sketching out all of the character designs. Horikoshi says the anime character model sheets look just like how he draws them
they talk about Horikoshi’s obsession with drawing hands lol. Horikoshi mentions that the way Mike Mignola (the creator of Hellboy) draws hands was a big influence
they talk a lot about art and drawing in general
Horikoshi talks about Ochako’s character design a bit
they talk about the differences between drawing manga and doing animation
Umakoshi talks about his first impressions of BnHA
Horikoshi mentions that he still has a lot of ideas for characters and quirks that he hasn’t been able to implement yet
they talk about the different character designs and which ones they find easy, difficult, and fun to draw
they talk for a fair amount of time about Iida’s character design
Umakoshi talks a bit about other anime he’s worked on
they talk about the character of All Might, and Horikoshi ominously says that All Might’s future will be “a fairly sad affair”
interview with Natalie Comics, June 2018
talks about the 4th anniversary of BnHA, and the release of BnHA: Two Heroes
talks about the Basement internship arc and mentions that it was challenging for him to write
talks about the question “what is a hero?” and how he defines heroes
mentions Mina, Sero, and Shouji as characters he would like to/plans to feature in the future, and mentions that he already has a story planned featuring Shouji
talks about the popularity of the series
talks a little about Koike-san, his first editor
talks about Two Heroes and its development and story
talks about club activities at U.A., and which clubs Deku and Katsuki would be in
talks about his mom and about some of his childhood experiences which inspired scenes in the manga
talks about why he became a mangaka
talks about what percentage of the series is completed, mentions the original planned length was about 30 volumes but that it has obviously surpassed that
mentions that he has an idea of how the last arc will be planned out
interview with Horikoshi and Eiichiro Oda, August 2018
Horikoshi talks about being a fan of One Piece and mentions he even sent artwork to Oda which was included in one of Oda’s galleries
they talk more about OP and about favorite arcs and how it’s influenced Horikoshi’s work
Oda compliments Horikoshi’s art and they talk about cover artwork and coloring (Horikoshi mentions he uses Photoshop)
Horikoshi talks a bit about BnHA Two Heroes
Horikoshi again mentions that he originally thought BnHA would be about 30 volumes (Oda says he should shoot for 50 but Horikoshi laughs and says he’s not sure he can do ten years)
they talk about how fucking long OP is and how manga stories tend to expand once the story starts taking off
Interview with Anime News Network at SDCC, August 2018
talks about his love of American comics, especially Spider-Man, and says that American comics are a lot more mainstream in Japan nowadays thanks to all the superhero movies
talks about how he got started as a manga creator
talks about being inspired by Dragon Ball, and that All Might in particular was inspired by Goku
talks a bit about the process of creating characters
talks about Bakugou’s popularity and that it took him by surprise at first
mentions that he doesn’t have the stamina for BnHA to be a long series like One Piece
interview with Cinema Today Japan, December 2019
(update: here is the link to @hanashimas‘ translation which is more accurate)
talks about Deku and Bakugou’s characters and their attributes
mentions that at the start of the story Bakugou thinks Deku is above him, so he tries to act intimidating and superior to overtake him
(ETA: apparently this is a mistranslation; he actually says that he intended for Bakugou to be a character who was “above” Deku so to speak, who Deku would eventually surpass. he then goes on to talk about his realization that Bakugou could actually have a much more interesting character arc, which of course we have since seen play out.)
mentions that he planned to have Bakugou and Deku improve on two separate vectors as they entered U.A.
mentions Deku vs Kacchan 1 as a turning point where he had some realizations about Bakugou’s character that humanized him for him
mentions that he always knew Bakugou wouldn’t turn evil and “would never lose to the darkness”
says the scene where Katsuki takes Kirishima’s hand at Kamino was bittersweet because it showed Bakugou’s growth, but also showed the ongoing gulf between him and Deku because Deku knew that Katsuki wouldn’t take his hand
mentions that Bakugou still needs to apologize to Deku
says that Kirishima, Kaminari, and Mina are among the easiest characters for him to draw because they take the initiative and get the other characters excited and help pull the story forward
mentions that he always hears Nobu’s voice in his head now when writing Bakugou
talks about the characters being high school kids still, and that when he expanded on their families he was conscious of that -- “I wanted to show that these protagonists are still children after all”
interview in Volume R (booklet that was released along with Heroes Rising), December 2019
talks again about his manga influences and what inspired him to become a mangaka
talks about the experience of getting his first manga published
talks about what inspired him to write BnHA
has an interesting quote where he talks about the vaguely desperate feeling of “trying one last time”, which was weighing on his mind when he created BnHA, and which also played into Deku’s motivations in the first chapter
mentions All Might as being a character that he’s attached to
talks about his reactions to the anime, the overseas popularity, and the first movie
talks about his heavy involvement in the production of Heroes Rising
talks about designing and creating the bad guys for Heroes Rising
talks about the creation and character design of Hawks and mentions that the original character design was going to have a bird head lol
mentions that Hawks will have a relatively big influence on the story in the future
talks about how the ending of Heroes Rising was his original planned ending for the series
talks about Bakugou’s character development which leads up to that moment
talks about the conclusion of the series, and that all of the characters will come together in the end
interview with all of the past editors of the BnHA manga, March 2021
(note: this is another interview that’s not translated word for word, but summarized. also this interview was with just the editors, not Horikoshi himself.)
they talk about the early reception to the manga, and Horikoshi’s reactions
they talk about the individual moments early on when they realized that the series would be “amazing”
Yoritomi mentions that Horikoshi came up with the designs for most of the Billboard Top 10 pro heroes at the last minute lol
including Hawks (all Horikoshi had decided on prior was that he was going to be “cool” and would be a spy)
everyone praises Horikoshi’s character designs in general
they talk about the start of the anime and that whole process
they mention that Horikoshi cried watching both of the movies
they talk about the overseas popularity of the series
each editor lists their favorite episode of the anime
they talk about Horikoshi sacrificing his original manga ending to be used in Heroes Rising
they talk about that one ending theme song in season 4 that showed the pro heroes’ childhoods, and that Horikoshi had the anime team change Hawks’s to match the backstory he had planned
they talk about the upcoming season 5 and send final messages to the fans
interview in the MHA Drawing Smash Exhibition Pamphlet, April 2021
Horikoshi talks about the art in the exhibition and about the process of creating the artwork
he mentions that the piece with Deku rescuing a falling Ochako took the longest to draw
he says the drawing of All Might was the most fun to draw for him
that’s pretty much it, this one is very short lol
interview in Jump GIGA Spring 2021, April 2021
talks about which characters will play an important role in the final act. specifically mentions Hawks, Ochako, Shouji, Shinsou, Monoma, and Sero
“many characters’ actions will converge into a single one, so maybe the best way to say it would be ‘keep an eye on all of them!’“
says that for Hawks’s flashbacks and the Todoroki family’s past, he was influenced by Sion Sono’s works
mentions that the drawing of Deku and Ochako from the MHA Drawing Smash exhibit isn’t directly related to the main story, but that while drawing it he kept in mind how their relationship would develop if he explored it deeper
says he had the final act (or at least the chapter 306 reveal part of it) vaguely planned for a long time, but started to think about the specifics in volume 21 during the Endeavor vs High-End fight
says he’s already decided on the ending, and that “the path to it has been longer than I initially expected, but the main elements that I’ve decided before starting the series are still the same”
Q&A trivia from Vol. W World Heroes’ Mission, August 2021
(and alternate translation by aitaikimochi)
talks about All Might not having many friends among the pro heroes (but says he’s become “slightly attached” to Aizawa since he started teaching at U.A.)
describes what Bakugou, Tsuyu, and Mineta’s rooms look like
talks about Jirou and Momo’s relationship and the kind of things they like to talk about when they hang out together
says that Shouji’s face will eventually be revealed, and that he is “not sure” about Hagakure’s :’)
talks about the types of YouTube videos Shouto watches (pretty insightful answer which is equal parts sweet and sad)
says that Midnight’s classes were the most popular among the students
says U.A.’s robots once rebelled against their creators (lol wtf)
says his three favorite movies are Akira, The Ring, and Spider-Man: Far From Home. he says Akira in particular is his bible
and that’s it for now, but I will update this post with future interviews as they are posted, and if anyone has links to an interview I’ve missed please let me know.
#horikoshi kouhei#horikoshi kouhei interview#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha reference#makeste reads bnha
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feel the turn of rotation (and stop)
@sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo
Prompt: Date Night
Relationships: Geralt/Jaskier
Rating: Gen
Content Warnings: None
Summary: Geralt ask Jaskier to go to the Yule festival with him. Jaskier misunderstands his intentions.
ao3
“There’s a festival happening tonight.”
Jaskier looked up from where he was working on his latest composition. Geralt was leaning against the doorway to his bedchambers, which Jaskier tended to use as a study as well so that he could reserve the main space for entertaining. He took a moment to set down his quill and wipe his sweaty palm on his trousers. It was almost overly warm in the room, the fire blazing at full height to fight back against the chill of his outward facing chambers. The single, tiny window above his desk ran with moisture, the frost melted away by the heat of the room.
“Yes,” he answered, turning in his plush chair to face Geralt fully, one ankle coming up to cross over his knee. “There’ll be a procession at sunset starting at the main gate, to light the lanterns. And then dancing and such in the main square. Typical Yuletide celebrations.” As he spoke, Jaskier allowed himself to observe Geralt in full, briefly sweeping a glance over his companion. It was exceptionally rare for them to spend winters together; Geralt almost always chose to spend the colder months in Kaer Morhen with his brothers, while Jaskier returned to civilization. This year they had been deep in southern Sodden when the first snows unexpectedly hit, and by the time they’d made it back to Redania they’d received word from Vesemir that the pass to Kaer Morhen was closed. Jaskier had been offered a position teaching for the winter semester, along with a fairly lucrative retainer with a local lordling, so he’d offered Geralt a place to crash while they waited for the witchering season to start up again.
The downtime suited Jaskier’s companion nicely. Geralt’s hair was pulled back into a customary knot behind his head, but it was clean and soft looking, free of dirt and monster guts. His skin shone in the firelight, and the dark circles that always seemed smudged beneath his eyes were faded after weeks of consistent rest and food. He’d taken to walking around without his armor on, content after a few days with the knowledge that Oxenfurt was populated by nothing more threatening than overenthusiastic academics. At the moment he was wearing a pair of old black trousers and a dark blue shirt that stood out against his white skin like a splash of wine on a silk tablecloth. It had cost Jaskier a small fortune, but it was worthwhile to see it clinging to Geralt’s shoulders.
He looked good. Jaskier felt his cheeks heat up as he realised he’d been staring. Snapping back to the conversation at hand, he realized that Geralt had been speaking.
“- if you wanted to.”
“Sorry, what?” Jaskier asked, blinking. Geralt rolled his eyes, used to Jaskier’s lapses in attention. The motion carried annoyance, but when his eyes fell on Jaskier again there was fondness in them.
“I asked if you’d planned on attending. Seems like the kind of thing you’d be working.” Strong arms crossed over a broad chest, stretching the dark fabric across thick biceps. Jaskier swallowed.
“Ah, well, typically I would indeed be regaling the crowds with my sonorous melodies. But considering I had company, I thought it might be better to leave myself, uh.” He cut himself off, feeling suddenly exposed in the admission. While he had taken the time off initially hoping he might be doing something with Geralt, he hadn’t truly expected the witcher to want to do more than maybe get drunk on overpriced Redanian wine. “Well. You’re here, after all,” he finished lamely.
Geralt blinked at that, something odd crossing his face before he looked away. Staring at the fire across from Jaskier, he said, “You could still go.”
Something was off about his tone - overly flat, which he only did when he was trying to muffle some kind of emotion. What it could be, Jaskier had no earthly idea. Confused, he said, “Well, I wouldn’t want to leave you all by yourself on Yule, Geralt. That wouldn’t make me a very gracious host! I’m entirely content to spend the evening with you here, if that’s what you would prefer.” And he was, truly. While he typically spent Yuletide amongst the people, dancing and singing and visiting with friends, he imagined it would be just as rewarding to spend the evening with Geralt, in the cramped comfort of his quarters. The two of them tipsy on ale and spirits, sitting before the fire, trading stories back and forth like they usually did on the road. Cuddled beneath a blanket, pressed up against each other despite the warmth of the hearth, drink making Geralt’s face flush as it almost never did…
Yes, Jaskier imagined he would be perfectly content to spend the evening right here.
Geralt let out a frustrated huff. “I mean, we could go. If you want. I - We should go. Together.”
It was choppy work, even for Geralt. He still refused to meet Jaskier’s gaze, staring with absolute focus at the fire. His shoulders were braced, tense as if waiting for a blow. It was baffling.
“Well, of course, if you’d like to go I’m amenable to that,” Jaskier agreed. “More than, actually. It’s great fun, you’ll see.”
Geralt finally turned to look Jaskier in the eye. A shiver traveled down his spine at the intensity there, but then again, that was how he often felt under that golden gaze. “Together,” Geralt said again.
“I wouldn’t want to go with anyone else,” Jaskier said with a dismissive wave, laughing a little. It was typical to attend the festivities with a spouse or sweetheart, but he’d not taken a paramour of any kind in several months, and nothing serious in years, if he was honest. His attention was unfortunately captured elsewhere. He spared a single moment to mourn the private evening he’d envisioned with Geralt, but he was already warming to the idea of attending the festivities. He’d already shown the witcher around Oxenfurt, but it was exciting to think of showing the city off again in a new light. Geralt had probably not attended many Yule festivals, he realized, having always spent the winters in the mountains. Something released in his chest even as his stomach dropped in disappointment as he realized Geralt probably didn’t even recognize the romantic implications of his offer.
Geralt, at least, looked relieved. The tension dropped from his shoulders, and he gave Jaskier a soft smile. Jaskier’s traitorous heart skipped in his chest, and Geralt’s grin suggested that it may have been audible. Jaskier wasn’t sure what to do with himself, hands fluttering across his desk to meaninglessly straighten papers and notes. “Good,” Geralt said, the grin softening back into that disorienting smile. “I’m assuming you’ll want to change.”
“Ah, yes, can’t very well go out in this,” Jaskier agreed, still feeling slightly unmoored.
“Of course,” Geralt said seriously, but his eyes danced with mirth. “I’ve got some things to do in the market before the stalls close. Meet you at the gate at sunset?”
“Perfection,” Jaskier said, and Geralt nodded before peeling himself off of the doorframe and disappearing into the other room. A moment later Jaskier heard the telltale sound of the exterior door opening and closing, the rusty hinges creaking. He sat for a moment in the empty room, going over the encounter in his mind and trying to determine what had made it feel so off.
“Strange,” he said to himself, and began packing up his things. He had a festival to prepare for.
***
Dressed appropriately in his finest woolen tunic and the thick fur lined cloak Geralt had gifted him the previous year, Jaskier set out from his abode to meet Geralt. An hour or so had passed since their conversation, and the sun was lying low and languorous on the edge of the horizon. Its dying light rippled across the Pontar where it split around the island, the light layer of snow that covered the landscape transformed into gold dust. Already he could see the crowd gathering on the far side of the bridge, led by the priestess of Melitele, returning from the temple outside of the city. Jaskier stood inside the city gates, scanning the faces around him for familiar features.
After a few moments he saw him - highlighted against the backdrop of the setting sun, his hair turned to fiery gold in the dying light. Geralt smiled when they made eye contact, and immediately began to push his way through the crowd towards Jaskier. He too had dressed for the weather, his own wool cloak muffling his form. As he stepped into Jaskier’s space, he said, “You ready?”
Jaskier had the feeling that he didn’t know exactly what he should be ready for, but he nodded anyway. “They’re just beginning,” he said, waving towards the group approaching on the bridge. It was slow going, the procession stopping every few meters to wait while the priestess lit the lanterns lined up along the walls. They would be at it for the next hour at least, making their way around the circumference of the city to light the protective lanterns and then returning to the bridge, where the large crowd would release their own floating lanterns to carry their prayers for the new year to Melitele.
“There’s music in the square,” Geralt said, and Jaskier could just barely hear it as well. Normally he would be amongst the performers, but tonight he was there as the audience.
“The flutist is off key, I can tell already,” he said with a grin, though he could hear no such thing from this distance. Geralt huffed out a laugh and took Jaskier’s arm, just above the end of his glove. Geralt’s fingers were bare, his witcher metabolism keeping him warm enough without them, and they were a cold shock against the skin of Jaskier’s wrist. He let himself be led into the square, which was packed with people. Tables had been set up with food and drink around the edges, while the far side was dominated by a low stage. In the center, couples and groups danced, circling each other in common folk movements. The tune was jaunty and fun, a lively song to help fight back against the dark that threatened the edges of the gathering. Defiant in the best of ways.
“I don’t suppose you know any of the local dances?” Jaskier asked, already knowing the answer. Geralt confirmed it with a shake of his head. “Well then be a dear and get us some ales, hmm? We can still watch.”
Geralt, for once, did as he was bid without comment, probably just as interested in the alcohol as Jaskier was. He found them a spot to stand near the mouth of an alley, where he hoped the noise of the crowd would be a bit reduced. Geralt was sometimes bothered by the bustle and murmur of a large group of people.
Geralt rejoined him shortly, offering him a mug of mulled wine. Jaskier took a grateful sip, feeling the hot liquid settle in his gut and warm him from the inside out. It was very good - spicy and strong, just how he liked it. Geralt hummed appreciatively when he took his own drink.
They stood watching for a while, Jaskier making the occasional snide comment about a bad dancer or an overplayed tune if he thought it would make Geralt laugh. And it did, more often than not; Geralt was open and affectionate this evening, leaning down to whisper conspiratorially in Jaskier’s ear as they watched a couple sneak away from the dancefloor. Jaskier laughed into his glove, quickly beginning to feel light and soupy from the drink.
“I know this one,” Geralt said suddenly, drawing his attention back to the band. It was a slightly slower song, a couple’s dance. Bright gold eyes turned in Jaskier’s direction. “Want to dance?”
Jaskier gaped. “With you?”
Geralt’s eyebrow quirked upwards, betraying only exasperation. “Don’t see anyone else here making an offer.”
“Well, you - I - Alright,” he said, finally, swallowing his confusion. Geralt offered a hand, and Jaskier accepted.
They moved out towards the dancers, Jaskier feeling his heart rise in his throat. When they reached the edge of the pack, Geralt turned and gave Jaskier a short bow, overly formal for the setting. With an incredulous laugh, Jaskier returned the motion, and when he raised his head again Geralt was in his space, hands coming up to rest lightly on his waist.
It shouldn’t have been able to take his breath away so easily, but it did.
The motions of the dance were simple, basic circular pathways as they stepped out and back in together. Their hands never parted, but every time the steps pulled them apart Jaskier found himself missing Geralt’s warmth beside him. Slowly, the tempo picked up speed, until they were twisting and whirling around without pause. When the song ended, Jaskier was panting for breath. Geralt looked winded himself, though his chest rose and fell at the same rate it always did.
They made their way off the dance floor once again, ceding their spot to another couple. Geralt’s arm curled around Jaskier’s waist and he leaned into the touch, feeling more drunk than he should be. “You’re good at that, witcher,” he said, accusatorily. “I could have been taking you dancing all this time! How many balls have we been to?”
Geralt flushed faintly, the color staining his ears a fetching red. “The Wolf witchers use techniques that are similar to some dances,” he said. “The pacing, some of the moves, are familiar.”
“I’m never going to let this go,” Jaskier warned as they shuffled back towards the mouth of their alleyway. “You’re going to have to dance with me at every festival, ball, and banquet we ever attend from now on.”
Geralt smirked at him. “I don’t know that I mind.”
And what was that supposed to mean? Jaskier felt a flush spread down his cheeks, his throat, even his chest felt warm. Geralt didn’t mind dancing? Or didn’t mind dancing with Jaskier? Panicked, he said, “I’m going to get us more drinks!”
By the time he returned with more warm wine, he had managed to wrestle his emotions back into place. He passed Geralt one of the mugs, giving him a wide grin that he hoped would cover for his accelerated heartbeat.
As they drank, Jaskier found himself at a loss for words. He was happy to be here, truly. It was always enjoyable to spend time with the object of his affections, but at the same time, he felt something cold settling in his stomach that the wine could not touch. He glanced at Geralt out of the corner of his eye, watching the other man observe the dancers. His hair was in slight disarray from the dancing, his cheeks still slightly flushed, and Jaskier wanted him so badly it felt like a wound. He wished he could lace their fingers together as other couples around the square were. Wished he could sit in Geralt’s lap and feed him sweetmeats and honey cakes as the festivities melted away around them. It was difficult to be so close, and yet so far from what he actually desired.
Geralt glanced over at him, and something in Jaskier’s face must have betrayed his sudden turn into maudlin, because he didn’t look away. “Should we go?” Geralt asked, concern drawing his brow together.
Jaskier cursed himself, plastering on another smile. “No, no, dear heart, I’m enjoying myself plenty. The lanterns will probably be lit soon, don’t you think? Maybe we should go find ourselves a spot before the crowd arrives.”
Geralt nodded, still looking a bit worried. It was flattering, that he was clearly concerned about whether Jaskier was having a good time, but it only made him feel more wistful. Not looking to see if his friend was following, Jaskier began to pick his way out of the square, doing his best not to jostle any of the other partygoers. Geralt dogged him like a shadow, and they both emerged some minutes later in the silvery moonlight of the river walk.
Already Jaskier could see the bridge, some ways away to their left, dotted with lantern lights. The procession had made its way back. He stepped up to the edge of the river, leaning against the low wall that held the city back from its edge. Geralt stayed a step or two behind him, arms crossed against the chill. “This will be a good spot,” Jaskier said, leaning over the railing to point. “They’ll release them there, so we should be able to see them as they go up.”
“They do this every year?” Geralt asked, voice a low rumble. Now away from the noise of the crowd, it shook Jaskier’s bones.
He nodded. “For the last, hmm, thirty years, I think? The lanterns carry wishes, you see, requests for Melitele. They go up into the heavens, and when they come down they carry her blessing. So they say.”
“Hmm,” Geralt replied. They stood together in silence as the little pinpricks on the bridge became a sea of candlelight, and slowly, one by one, began lifting up into the air. Soon the sky was awash with golden sparks, hovering above them.
Jaskier leaned against the wall, watching the lanterns make their way skyward. “Wish I’d thought to make one ahead of time,” he said wistfully, watching their lights twinkle in the darkness. “I didn’t know we’d be -” He turned to look at Geralt, who was rummaging around in his bag. “What are you doing?”
With a triumphant huff, Geralt found what he was looking for. He presented it to Jaskier with a sheepish looking grin, an unusually bashful look for the witcher. In his palm was a small square of paper and wood, maybe half the size of the other lanterns being set loose from the bridge. “I found someone selling them earlier,” he said, setting the little thing on the ledge of the wall in front of them. “Thought you might want to join in.”
Jaskier clapped his gloved hands together, delighted. “Oh, it’s just adorable,” he said, feeling his grin pull at his cold cheeks. He picked the thing up, cradling it delicately in his cupped hands. The paper sides were decorated with a floral pattern - tulips, or maybe buttercups. Jaskier reached forward towards Geralt. “Would you light it for me?”
Geralt reached out and snapped, the clean sound cutting through the still air. Immediately the paper in Jaskier’s hands began to warm, the little lantern glowing merrily. Carefully, Jaskier made his way to the edge of the river wall and leaned over the side, letting the lantern rest on his flat hands as it grew lighter. After a moment, it lifted gently off of his palms and started to drift skywards.
Geralt stepped up to join him, their shoulders pressing together as they leaned against the railing, watching their little lantern float up to join the sea of others. A wave of golden light blanketed the city, giving the river an otherworldly glow as it reflected the sky. Jaskier sighed happily, allowing Geralt’s constant warmth to wash over him. He turned to comment on the spectacle, but his words died on his lips as he found Geralt already looking at him. The warmth of the lanterns reflected in his eyes as well, making them glow with their own light in the darkness. Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat, his cheeks warming.
“This was nice,” Geralt said, his voice pitched low. The rumble of it sent a shiver up Jaskier’s spine. They were so close together, and Jaskier found himself turning into Geralt’s heat like a flower to the sun.
“Y-yes,” he stuttered, a beat too late. “It’s always a pleasure to spend an evening with you, my friend.”
Geralt hummed, a distracted noise, and lifted his bare hand up to Jaskier’s jaw. “Oh,” Jaskier said, surprise and confusion and clamouring hope blossoming in his chest, and then Geralt was kissing him.
It was a chaste little thing, but Jaskier felt himself light up at the touch. His own hands came up to grasp Geralt’s hips, the gloves or the shock making him clumsy. Geralt hummed again, a wickedly satisfied sound that made Jaskier shudder embarrassingly. He tasted like mulled wine and cinnamon, the taste lingering on Jaskier’s lips as they pulled away.
He stared at Geralt for a moment before clearing his throat. “What, erm. What was that for?”
Geralt gazed at him fondly, a thumb skating over Jaskier’s cheekbone. He knew it must be warm to the touch. “I wanted to,” he said, shrugging. “And it’s the customary way to end a romantic outing, I’m told.”
Jaskier blinked at him. “Romantic outing?”
Geralt’s head tilted to the side, giving Jaskier a confused look. “What did you think this was?”
“Oh,” Jaskier said again. “Oh!” He pulled a hand away from Geralt’s side to slap over his own forehead, feeling both extraordinarily foolish and giddy. “God’s above, this was a date?”
Geralt’s expression shuttered slightly, and his fingers slipped from Jaskier’s cheek to his shoulder. “You didn’t realize.”
Jaskier leaned forward, desperate to wipe the nervous look from Geralt’s face. He wrapped his own hands around Geralt’s neck, squeezing the base of his skull slightly. “I’m sorry, dearest, I didn’t, but I am delighted. Ecstatic, overjoyed, elated, euphoric, exultant -”
Geralt laughed, cutting him off. “Alright, I get it. You’re happy.”
“More assuredly so,” Jaskier agreed, grinning. He felt lighter than he had in years, floating on a bubble of joy. “Though I will say, we will probably need to go on another ‘romantic outing’ to be sure we do it right. I won’t have our first real date be one I wasn’t even aware of.”
Geralt leaned back in, his lips ghosting over Jaskier’s. The bard shivered, anticipation making his breath come faster. “I don’t know that I would mind that either,” he said, and then his lips found Jaskier’s once again. Jaskier laughed into the kiss, and knew that there would be many more chances for the perfect date to come.
#geraskier#the witcher#witcher#geraltxjaskier#geralt/jaskier#geralt of rivia#jaskier#geralt#fan fiction#fanfiction#fic#my work#witcher fic#sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo#sugar and spice#s&s
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Journal Part 3 // Jeongin
🍄 | genre: smut
☁️ | pairing: Yang Jeongin x female!reader
🌿 | wc: 4.3k
🌸 | includes: milf!reader x babysitter!college student!jeongin, “mommy”, shower/morning sex, handjob (m!receiving), cum swallowing, smut within smut [mentions of punishment, spanking, pegging, free use, “mistress”, flogging, chastity], masturbation, brief phone sex, bratty jeongin, punishment, spanking with hand, grinding, overstimulation (m!receiving), PIV (riding, cowgirl/reverse cowgirl), unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare… phew good luck
🌊 | One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Finale |
The morning sun blinds Jeongin through the curtains, and he lazily rubs his eyes to see steam coming from under the bathroom door. You’ve already gotten up to get a shower, but you so rudely forgot to invite the sweet college boy blissfully sleeping next to you. Jeongin springs out of bed with a little too much energy and sneaks into your bathroom, being as quiet as possible.
“Jeongin, I know you’re there.” You fold your arms as you face the clear shower door Jeongin’s silhouette was on. He freezes, shrugs, and opens the shower door just enough so you could see only half of his body.
“May I come in?”
You sigh and swing open the door fully, making sure no water can get out. “Sure, baby.”
Jeongin gets giddy and hops in, smiling brightly as you continue to lather soap on your body. Suddenly, he hugs you from behind, pulling you as close to his body as possible. You feel his semi-erection on your back, but that’s not your focus right now. You just want to be clean for your day off.
“Thank you for letting me stay over.” Jeongin nuzzles his head in the back of your neck, cuddling you under the running water. “I really enjoyed last night. Did you?”
“Yes, sweetheart. I enjoyed it a lot.” Your reassurance makes him blush, and he’s happy you can’t see the flustered expression on his face. He doesn’t know what to do next. Luckily, you have plans. “Hey, Jeongin, do you write… fantasies about us in class?”
“Oh, uh, sometimes. I make sure no one sees, though.” He backs away, leaning on the far shower wall. “I mostly write in my composition class.”
“Who’s the professor?” You turn around, facing him fully, pinning him to the wall with your eyes.
“Mr. Lee?”
“Lee what?”
“Lee… Minho?”
Damnit. Of course. Of course it was going to be your ex husband. Admittedly, this wasn’t the best time to interrogate Jeongin, but it’s still early, and the kids aren’t up yet, so you have time to turn this around.
“Mommy, can you put shampoo in my hair?” Jeongin’s cute little voice almost makes your heart burst, and it’s practically impossible for you to say no now. Jeongin turns around and kneels, patiently waiting for you to wash his hair. You squeeze some shampoo into your hand and spread it through Jeongin’s wet hair, making sure it suds on his scalp. He hums in content, loving the feeling of your hands through his hair. “Thank you.”
“No problem, baby.” You kiss the back of his neck, making a shiver run down his spine. You hear the light sounds of Jeongin touching himself, slowly and quietly enough that he hopes you don’t notice, but you obviously do considering you see his right shoulder moving.
Once the shampoo is finally rinsed out of his hair, you pull him onto you, his back falling against your chest and stomach. You run your hands over his abs before taking a hold of his cock, wrapping your fingers around it gently before slowly jerking him back and forth. Jeongin weakly bucks his hips into your hand, dazed and clouded with neediness.
“You like when mommy touches you like this, huh?” The water sprinkles down onto Jeongin’s cock, creating a weak lubricant for your hand. He doesn’t answer you; he can only whimper, too far gone to even form a thought. He slipped into this headspace so fast, and it kind of shocks you. Jeongin rustles in your arms, seeming to wish to break free from your hold. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“W-want to see you.” Jeongin squeaks out, prompting you to turn around and pin him against the wall so the water hits your back. You get on your knees, looking up at him as his face is bright red and his eyes are half-lidded. “You’re so pretty, mommy.”
“Aw, is my little boy trying to compliment me so he can cum?” You go back to stroking his cock, licking the tip once to remind him of how your mouth feels. His sensitive cock begins to twitch, begging to release. Another lick, this time from his balls to his tip, and he’s cumming on your face, shooting his load across your features, mostly in your mouth.
You wipe the cum from your face to your mouth, swallowing every last bit of his tasty release. Jeongin only watches, eyes glued to your mouth, but he doesn’t know if he can kiss you considering you just ate his cum.
“Mommy, can I kiss you?” You look up and him and groan as you stand up, your knees feeling the repercussions of kneeling on the hard shower floor. He raises his chin as you grasp his face, pulling his soft lips to yours, kissing you sweetly. You press your body against his, your tits coming in contact with his chest, and he has to fight every thought to snap his neck down to look at your chest. Still, your lips were made for each other, perfectly in sync with every ministration. He’d be a fool to break this kiss right now.
Nothing in Jeongin’s wildest dreams could have prepared him for being with you, even if it isn’t anything serious. He loved just being in your presence, focused on your every word and every action, mentally taking notes so his memories of his time with you could be as vivid as possible.
On the other hand, nothing in your wildest dreams could prepare you for your ex-husband rudely coming back into your life only to shame you for possibly having a relationship with another consenting adult. When he called you last night, you had no idea Jeongin was one of your students, but somehow, Minho saw what he was writing in his little notebook, and it all seemed too descriptive to be fake. Jeongin was younger when he saw Minho the most, and there was no way Jeongin could recognize him as his ex-neighbor now. It was all an innocent mistake that cost you a lot of sleep last night.
You weren’t thinking about that now. All you could think about was what time it was, because your daughters would be awake any minute and you always make them breakfast on your days off. You break the kiss and get out of the shower with Jeongin, graciously helping each other dry off, and you go out to begin making waffles for your kids.
“I didn’t know you could cook!” Jeongin sits at the dining table, full of glee just like a child would be. “Can I stay for breakfast?”
“Jeongin, you can stay as long as you’d like.” You press the waffle iron closed, beginning to cook the first of three. “But no funny business. I don’t want the girls to know what’s going on between us.”
“Oh, that’s okay! I just know there’s no fresh breakfast at my house.” He laughs a little, lounging back in the wooden chair. “I’ll leave after I eat so you have a day with your kids, and I also have homework to do.”
“They give you kids homework on the weekends?” You sound almost offended by the thought of doing any type of schoolwork on your days off. “From what I can remember, we never got homework on the weekends, or if we did, I certainly didn’t do it!”
You both laugh, then go back to a comfortable silence. It felt right. Having another adult in the house, someone to talk to who isn’t only talking to you because of work. This is what you’ve been missing.
When your daughters wake up, they’re shocked to see Jeongin sitting at the table, but they’re also happy to see him. They drag him out of his seat at the table so he can play with them before you tell them to behave.
“Jeongin is a guest this morning. Treat him nice!”
Jeongin’s embarrassed to admit that he almost said yes mommy, but the glorious taste of the syrup-covered waffles takes his mind off that. You just lean against the counter and watch them eat, sipping your coffee as the sun continues to rise.
🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯
“Jeongin, where were you last night?” Felix says through his headset, waiting for his game to load. “We need a team of four!”
“I thought Hyunjin would have been on.” Jeongin yawns, tired after having you wake him so early. “I was busy, sorry.”
“Busy doesn’t mean writing in your diary, Yang.” Jisung chimes in, calling Jeongin by his family name as if it’s an insult.
“First of all, it’s not a diary, and second of all, I was busy with a… girl.” Jeongin hesitates to give away too much information, but he folds the seconds he’s brought back to where he was last night: under you.
“Aw, our baby Innie has a girlfriend?” The group fills with oohs and ahhs as Jeongin groans and rolls his eyes, adjusting his headset out of frustration. “Let us meet her! C'mon man!”
“You can’t meet her. We aren’t dating.” Jeongin threatens to leave before they drop the topic, but he can’t stop thinking about you, being already semi-hard by the end of their first match. The team berates him for his poor playing, but they can’t even fathom the thoughts going through Jeongin’s head that he can’t wait to put into his journal.
I want mommy to punish me. Punish me for these thoughts, punish me for touching myself without her, punish me for anything she pleases. Her perverted little boy wants to be ruined, and yet she’s so gentle with me. I don’t care if the sound of her spanking me wakes up her kids. It’ll be worth it just to feel her treat me like I’m her servant who lives to please, because I am. I’m nothing but a vessel she should be free to use at her will. I’m her toy. All hers.
Jeongin’s phone pings from the other side of his desk. It’s a text message from his favorite neighbor, and what perfect timing too. In your little text conversation, you and Jeongin discuss the babysitting times for the week, and don’t even manage to mention anything about sex. As upsetting as this is, while he waits for your answers, he’s diligently jotting down all of his twisted fantasies.
“You take my strap so well, honey.” She thrusts into my ass again, this time going even deeper than before. I hold my legs up with my hands around my tights, spreading my ass for her to fuck. My cock is leaking with precum while she strokes it with one hand and plays with my nipples with her other. “Dumb little boy’s being so good for me now.”
When you finally say goodbye over text, Jeongin shoots back a short “can we call?” As strange as you thought this text was, you press his number, soon to be greeted with the heavy breaths of the young boy. Luckily, the girls were asleep and you were alone in your bedroom, so you could say anything.
“Aw, is my boy all needy while he’s alone?” You tease him across the line, although you could just yell this out your window to his. Jeongin slips his pants down his thighs to release his cock, playfully touching his tip before gripping his shaft and stroking himself slowly. “Are you thinking about mommy?”
“Y-yes, I’m thinking about you, mommy.” How he got so excited so quickly is beyond his own understanding, but just from hearing your lustful voice, Jeongin’s already brainless, hardly able to utter a simple sentence.
“Good boy. You’re always such a good boy, huh?”
“Only for you, mommy.”
“Then why does my good boy want to be punished?” Jeongin’s breath hitches, suddenly remembering the short, revealing conversation with you about wanting to be used. “I wouldn’t want to punish you without a reason, my little prince.”
“Wh-what can I do?” He heaves out, quickening his pace on his dick. “Give me rules, mommy. I want to break them.”
“Oh, pretty boy wants rules now?” You take a moment to ponder, hearing the light sound of skin slapping from the other side of the phone. “Stop jerking off. No masturbating without my permission.”
Jeongin freezes, taking his hand off his cock slowly, writhing from the ruined orgasm he was so close to having. He sighs to catch his breath, pulling the phone away so you couldn’t hear how desperate he was to be touched. “What else?”
“Hm,” you scratch your chin in thought, “you have to show me everything you write in your little journal, got it?”
“E-everything?”
“Everything.”
Jeongin’s focus goes to the journal, looking at the depraved words he scratched onto the page. If he wants to get what he wants, he has to show you just so you know how much he wants this. “Yes ma’am.”
“One more thing, baby.” Jeongin’s worn out just from the first two rules. One more might break him. “Promise to take care of yourself. Brush your teeth, eat your meals, drink water, ya’know, things like that. I don’t want this rule broken.”
The sudden overflowing of care and wholesomeness makes Jeongin’s face turn red, partially because you’re so sweet and partially because he forgot to eat dinner today. He nods before realizing this was a phone call and squeaking out a meek “of course”.
“Don’t break these rules, okay sweetheart? Or else you’ll be punished… unless you break the last rule. Then I’ll give you a stern talking to. Got it?”
“Yes, mommy. I understand.” Jeongin pulls his pants up, cock now fully limp. “See you tomorrow!”
“Yup, good night.” You both hang up, setting your phones down for the night. Jeongin sits back in his desk chair, feeling victorious after finally cementing a sure-fire way to get his ass spanked. Before he goes to bed, he has to eat dinner. No way he’s getting a stern talking to!
🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯
When you come home from work on Monday, Jeongin’s watching TV (scrolling through his phone) while the girls were most likely asleep. You come sit next to him, tossing your bag next to the couch and figuratively letting your hair down, unbuttoning a few buttons on your work shirt.
“Hey, Y/n! The girls were great today.” Jeongin smiles, folding his hands in his lap. “They went to bed like two hours ago. It was an early night for them I guess.”
“Yeah, they were up early this morning, even before me.” You both laugh, finally being able to get down to business, at least in Jeongin’s mind.
“I ate three meals today, I drank three bottles of water, and I brushed my teeth this morning.” Jeongin sounds oddly proud of himself for doing what most people think is the bare minimum. “I showered, I took my meds, and most importantly, I didn’t jerk off.”
“Good boy.” You kiss him on the cheek and pull his head into your chest so he’s leaning on one of your tits. “My Jeonginnie is always so good for me.”
“Can I get a reward?” His puppy eyes look up at you, warming your heart from the long day at work. He looked so sweet and innocent, just pretty enough for you to destroy.
“Hold on, baby. You didn’t forget the second rule, did you?” You tap the side of his head and point to his bookbag. “Show me your journal.”
“B-but mommy, that’s embarrassing.” He whines, turning off your chest and to his bag, leaning away before unzipping his bag. “Do you have to?”
“Don’t be bratty with me. I just called you my good boy!” You reach for the bag, but Jeongin pulls it back to him. He hides it behind his back, putting his nose up at you. “Jeongin…”
“No!”
“Give me the j-“
“Make me.”
You lean into him, suffocating the younger boy with your shadow. Now standing over him, you put your hands on his face, cupping his cheeks before one hand pulls back and harshly slaps him across his handsome face. He doesn’t whine in pain, though, he just moans.
“M-more.”
“What was that, baby?”
He begins to repeat himself, but you slap him again before he can finish the word. His face is red as a tomato, and you don’t care whether that’s from your hand or his blushing. Looking down, you can clearly see how hard he is in his pants. You remove your hands from his face and press one down onto his bulge, making his face contort into a wince.
“Does my little boy want me to touch his cock?” You taunt, tilting your head as if the answer isn’t obvious. “Or more importantly, does he deserve it?”
“I’m n-not letting you read my journal.”
You huff and straighten your posture, taking his wrist in your hand and making him stand up with you, leading him to your bedroom. You slam the door behind you just quiet enough not to wake the kids. When you turn around, Jeongin is bent over the bed with his pants down to his ankles. He’s shaking. You like that.
“Take your clothes off, bitch.” He kicks his pants away while tossing his shirt off and pulling down his underwear at lighting speed. You sit on the bed and pat your lap, signaling Jeongin to bend over you, which he obediently does. “My little boy’s being bad today. Why?”
“I don’t want you reading what’s in my journal.” He sounds angry when you know it’s all for show.
“You don’t think I already know what perverted filth is in there?” You spank him, quickly making a red mark on his pale ass. He groans, bucking his hips into your leg for some friction. “You just want mommy to treat you like this, don’t you?”
“Yes mommy.” Another spank hits his ass, causing him to jolt forward. You bite your lip looking down at him, just now noticing how muscular he is.
“Count for me.” You spank him again, and again, and again, as he pliantly counts and whines, his cock dangling below him fully erect. By the end, he’s out of breath, and he isn’t even doing any of the work.
“Ten.” You pet his back while his ass is red as ever, looking like it can’t take any more hits of your palm. You kiss him on the shoulder, an especially soft moment after what just occurred. “Mommy?”
“Yes, dear?”
“I’ll show you my journal now.” He can’t move, but the journal is still out in his bag.
“I’ll go get it, baby boy. Lay down on the pillows. I want to read your slutty little stories to you.” He gets off your lap and lays back while you go out to the living room to get the journal. You sift through his bag, looking back and forth between binders and folders, but you don’t see it anywhere. You bring the bag into the bedroom, tossing it on the bed. “Where is it?”
Jeongin does the same as you, sifting through the bag with no sight of his precious journal. His heart stops for a minute, beginning to break into a cold sweat.
“Where did you see it last?”
“I was writing in it during my comp class.”
Lee Minho teaches that class. Your ex-husband teaches that class. This feels like the end of the world, and unlike earlier, you’re now genuinely angry. Your face begins to boil as you throw the bookbag off the bed and undress down to your panties. Climbing on top of Jeongin, you press your cunt down onto his cock, applying just enough pressure to make you both moan.
“Dumb little boy wants to ruin me, don’t you?” You wrap your hands around his neck, not choking him, but rather threatening him. “You want Lee Minho to know about us. You want him to have your stupid fucking diary so he can read all of your slutty fantasies.” Your grip tightens around his neck slightly, and Jeongin looks like he’s in pure bliss. He can’t even defend himself. He loves this too much.
“I love you, mommy.” He hums, leaning back into the bed as you begin to tease his cock with your slick panties, grinding against him.
“You don’t love me, Jeongin. You just love when I treat you like my little toy.” You lean down to make a dark hickey on his neck, something his friends will surely tease him for the next day. “All mine. You’re only mine.”
“Y-yes mommy. All yours. Only yours.” He moans loudly, suddenly nearing his high just from your grinding. The cloth of your panties feel like heaven. He can’t help it!
You look down to see him shoot his load on himself, spurts of his hot cum covering his abs and chest. He looks so pathetic, but at least he’s yours.
Pushing your panties aside, you slip him inside you, overstimulating him with your tight cunt. You bounce a few times on him before stopping your movements completely, bending over to put your tits in his face. He grabs your tits and sucks them, jumping back and forth between them every couple of seconds. Your hands are still around his neck, keeping him down on the mattress, unable to move.
“You love being mommy’s toy, huh?” You start to choke him more as you pull your tits out of his face, starting to ride him again. “Ah~ and mommy loves your cock, babydoll.”
Jeongin’s overwhelmed. He just came but he feels his second orgasm rapidly approaching. He can’t think or speak. All he can do is moan and whine “mommy” over and over again.
“Let me try something, my little prince.” That was always his favorite pet name you gave him. He thought he was about to cum, but you pull off of him, rotating your body so Jeongin has a perfect view of your ass. You sink back down onto him, his cock filling up your pussy again.
He felt so relieved being inside your warm cunt again, but now you start riding him harder and faster, his cock hitting so deep inside you with each thrust. He can’t hold it anymore. Jeongin’s cum fills you up, dripping down out of your pussy and onto the base of his cock.
He feels so weak under you. He’s in pain from the overstimulation, but he can’t deny that he adores feeling like this. The safe word isn’t even in his mind. He just wants you.
“Mommy’s gonna cum, alright?” You start to tighten around him, your movements getting sloppy and labored. “Hold my hips like a good boy. I want you to fuck me just like this.”
Jeongin’s hands hesitantly move to your hips, holding you up while his hips begin to stutter and thrust into you, fucking his cum deeper inside you. The convulsions of your dripping pussy is making his head spin. If he cums again, he’ll be so embarrassed, but the more he fucks you, the more his cock twitches.
“Good little boy. Such a nice cock, baby. Mm, so good.” Words mindlessly fly out of your mouth as you slam your ass against him, forcing him to bottom out. Neither of you move as you cum on him, your cunt tightening its grip on his length. Jeongin shuts his eyes as he ruts into you, cumming the same time as you. It feels euphoric to both of you. Jeongin’s hands move from your hips to your ass, massaging the skin as you come down from your highs.
“Thank you, mommy.” Jeongin whines as you get off of him, cum dripping out of you onto Jeongin. You hold it in as best you can as you lay down next to him, your legs feeling too fuzzy to get you anywhere. Jeongin nuzzles into your chest, holding you as close to him as possible.
You kiss his forehead before getting up to clean the mess you two made, mostly the mess between your legs. Coming back with water for your pretty little submissive, you lay back down to cuddle with your sweet boy.
“You need to get that journal back, Jeongin.”
“I will, Y/n. Don’t worry. No one will read it.”
🍓🍰🐤🍀💐🍯
His finger wraps around the thin paper to flip the page, only getting a fourth of the way through the messy journal. Everything is vile, and more importantly, everything is about his ex-wife.
Lee Minho’s cock is hard in his hand as he strokes himself back and forth, biting down on his lip so he doesn’t moan too loudly to alert his girlfriend in the other room. He can’t believe the raunchy smut he’s reading can turn him on this much.
“F-fuck, Y/n. My cock is so much better than this college boy’s.”
Minho gets vivid flashbacks to him dominating you, tying you up and spanking you with his paddle. Your teary eyes were always his favorite, especially when the tears were mixed with his cum.
He looks back at the page after returning from his haze of days gone by. His cock starts to twitch as his eyes skim the page, focusing on the parts with your name.
Y/n’s arm enters my peripheral as she hits me again with her flogger, the leather straps leaving red marks against my back. I lose balance, unable to catch myself on the hands that are cuffed behind me. I fall onto my face, and Y/n laughs at my pathetic form. “Dumb slut can’t even stay on his knees for his mistress.” Her heel presses against my spine, arching my back with force. “Ten more, then I’ll remove the cage, got it?”
Minho tosses the book aside as his pace quickens, cumming all over his lap. He looks down at the mess he made, his sweatpants covered in the reminder that he’s still head-over-heels for his ex-wife.
taglist: @milkym00n @sparklysung @fanchengsgf @sailorhyunjinz @gothicstay if you wanna be tagged in part four, send me an ask :)
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World of Perfection | Your Bias
(some) smut, experimental?
600 words
A/N:
Pull up your bias, your favorite, your ideal. Find that one pic that gets you going, read this alongside it. Enjoy.
Hair that gracefully falls on her shoulders after hours upon hours of styling. It frames her beautiful, natural features, which alone deem her worthy of the term “idol”. These are further heightened with makeup, a meticulous process that must be maintained after every move, every gesture, every motion. A dance step here and a minute of downtime there, upkeep the modest yet enhancing composition. The face has little effect without her eyes — the striking stare eats away at your desire, be that what it may. Perhaps you wish for a friendship, maybe you long for a lover, her gaze conveys that your yearning will be met by her and only her. Much like the contact lenses that continually change for every shoot and performance, the flexible persona adjusts to you.
While flexible, she is not malleable. Within her, a constancy, a persistent set of characteristics that shape and carry the image. Quirky and endearing habits inspire feelings of cute, youthful attraction. Polite and attentive mannerisms produce an atmosphere of respect and maturity that carry throughout every conversation. Appealing (and somewhat seductive) wardrobes give a peek of the alluring, enviable figure, all while remaining prudent and sensible.
Prudency, sensibility, the caution and calculation, they have one thing in common: these are not for you. That is her world of perfection, the bubble wrap façade which must ratify each public appearance. The set of laws that direct and perfect her role within the ever-evolving theatrics.
This is not for you.
You are the escape. Your space is haven. No prying eyes will be laid on her when you’re together, no mind creative enough to imagine the actions and reactions of the scenes that play.
The graceful hair becomes a mess, a frizz, moist strands framing her still gorgeous and ravishing face. Makeup a mess, some removed, some displaced. While altered, it nevertheless enhances the euphoric visual experience. Before, it was maintained after each action; now, action defines the appearance. Grasps, chokes, tears, and slaps all play a part in the disheveled display. All this, once again, meaningless without her gaze. This time, however, a plea in her eyes. The request is unique to you, she may beseech or command. The flexibility is similar, yet undertones of perverted motive pervade the encounter.
“Fuck me.”
The wardrobe strips and gives way to otherwise unexplored regions of her body. Your mouth travels downward, neck, collarbone, chest, the taste of her fueling your already erect length. The cuteness manifests once more, now as coy moans for every thrust of your cock into her. Her legs are spread, up in the air, arousal dripping and gushing with each pump as you strive for climax. Scrunched eyebrows indicate she does the same, fingers roaming around her body as she pleasures herself. Then, a mature confidence reemerges, but not for conversation nor interview. She rides you, hips sway with erotic flair. The start is soft, elegant-like, quivers dominating her body due to her sensitive, post-orgasm pussy. You stare in awe as she works her toned figure: up, down. Sometime after, it’s you thrusting once more. She holds for dear life; hands crumple white sheets and moans erupt as you, finally, release with gratifying groans. Cum slathers on her walls, warmth surrounding your softening and overstimulated cock.
You pull out and admire her. Heavy breaths and a flushed chest, an attractively deviant smile that is accompanied by one final heave. She lays there, tangled in linen and overflowing with your seed. One final look and kiss close the bout as you drowse and drift into satisfied slumber.
This is your world of perfection.
.
A/N #2:
Some explanation, I suppose. The general idea behind this is enclosed within the first two paragraphs. True to my name, these are passing notions and fleeting thoughts, specifically on the kpop industry. It was late and I got to writing, big words floated around my head that strung to sentences. The concept of perfection is intriguing to me, and as this formed, I truly had no specific idol to attribute it to. That gave me the idea: the reader can fill the blank. Turned it to smut, clearly, because the concept of idols being perfect for the public and sluts for [reader; y/n; oc] is tried and true. Smut, a bubble, our world of fictitious ideal. I’m sure (I hope) you can see the parallels I drew.
This is unedited, so if I missed the mark due to word choice, formatting, or some other shit... eh. Attempted to be as vague as possible so it could be your idol of choice.
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Next Level Badness!
“I’ve been painting and sketching all my life. Also, for my tailor I used to draw my suits, ‘cause he couldn’t speak English.”
The hidden face of genius: the paintings of Miles Davis
“My future starts when I wake up every morning. Every day I find something creative to do with my life.”
“Music and life are all about style.”
~ Miles Davis
His love for painting is one of the lesser known features of Miles Davis. It was born as a mere recreation during the 50s, and it strengthened when it decides to take a “break from music”, in 1975.
Inspiration for his paintings comes from Kandinsky, Basquiat, Picasso, tribal art. His style is sharp, bold, with bright colors on dark backgrounds that seem to want to escape from the canvas. Initially, dunring the interviews, Davis used to show his art with pride, taking a brush and a sheet and painting in front of the interviewer, getting inspired by the dialogues or what surrounded him. His art makes the big debut in 1983, the year of Star People, the album that made him reach the fourth place in the American Jazz albums ranking. That album inspired him. He painted the cover.
No doubt, Miles Davis had style. A key figure of Jazz and popular music, Davis belongs to the best musicians of the twentieth century. He wasn’t a virtuoso, that wasn’t part of his style, but he was a genius. Trumpeter, composer, mentor for future generations, a public figure with enormous influence, and lastly, a painter. You got it right: painter.
The cover of Star People (1983)
This graphic work seeks to remark what he expressed with his music in the 60s: the rhythm of the Africans, that thing which was the starting point of everything, a concept placed at the center of his paintings and his music. Miles was self-taught, and despite the success of his first graphic “composition”, he decided to take lessons: his teacher was Jo Gelbard, the woman who taught him the basic techniques of painting and then became his companion.
The decades of the 80s-90s had the most intense art production. He began organizing exhibitions, painting continuously and playing. In 1989 he released the album Amandla, and a painting created together with Jo was used as cover. It’s a self-portrait that – together with music – wants to show to the world the skills of a genius. A free mind, who knows how to adapt itself. A person who placed painting at the center of his life.
The cover of Amandla (1989)
Freedom is the main meaning that revolves around the album, and you get it already from the title: “Amandla” is a Zulu word that means power, used as a “slogan” during political demonstrations against apartheid, but as specified in Miles’ autobiography, the title means freedom. The freedom of people, the freedom of an artist.
At that time Miles was in another dimension. He was about to arrive to his final goal, artistically he already had done everything and satisfied everyone. With Amandla he made the world understand what “freedom” means. He moved away from the style that marked his previous works – see Kind of Blue – and proposed a sound aimed to approach another world: rock.
He seemed always a difficult, grumpy, often aggressive artist. They called him “The Prince of Darkness”, but actually he was a humble and generous man who knew how to get loved by everyone.
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I’m late but for kinkoctober but ur writing is so flawless, this suggestion will be an odd pair, little to no fanbase but Kabuto x Sasori. 🥺
Pairing: Kabuto/Sasori
Prompt: Anal Play/Coercion (originally Day 18 from this list of prompts) AND Dirty Little Secret for @naruto-smut-monday
Obvious warnings are obvious with the prompts above, also includes D/s play, biting/scratching, and rimming.
All Kinktober fills should be considered explicit unless stated otherwise!
AO3 LINK
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Waiting for an assignation is never a simple matter. Punctual to the point of arriving early at everything, Kabuto looks at his watch for perhaps the fifth time, and he counts down the minutes. His date was very specific in their instructions, and he prefers to make a good impression. Kabuto can respect a desire for punctuality, for exacting details intended to ensure obedience.
He knows himself to be just as exacting in his preferences when exerting control, and based on this similarity alone, he has high hopes for this meeting. The contact came highly recommended by his own current favorite - precisely because said favorite was known to turn Kabuto’s own reality on its very head and make him question which end was up and which was down.
If only it weren't so painfully obvious to his partner when such a feat was possible - but Obito had the uncanny ability to read him as quickly as a cheap novel, and just as easily. Obito, his switch of a partner who was meant to be and still mostly acts as Kabuto’s own submissive.
Secret needs will out, however, and these roles are now flipped with surprising regularity, which is what led him here in the first place. The fact still remains that Kabuto doesn't bend for just anyone, and he still gets tetchy about the prospect and process of exploring the depths of his own submission with a new Dominant. Obito, however, seems certain that this match will be the right fit.
And so Kabuto waits.
His new contact’s profile is sparse, with photographs that only display a slight figure masked in black, with brilliantly crimson hair that drew the eye at once. An artist by trade, 'Exploring', their status said, which leaves even more to the imagination.
It often only takes one strikingly unique feature to catch Kabuto's visual interest, to make him wonder; to call to his analytical side, which loves to break down each solitary detail of a play partner until the origin of its nature is revealed. Until their true nature is revealed right along with it.
Whether it is skin like a bleach-splashed canvas, or cat-like golden eyes, his long-term partners have always been unique. Both of the latter possessed features that were the result of rare conditions, or genetic mutations that made said partners even more captivating, whether under the lash... or wielding it.
With the prospect of a new connection, all Kabuto knows for sure is that his date has hair like spun garnets, a certain cruel twist to a delicate mouth, and eyes like a fine umeshu. Not exactly unique, but there is still something there that captures his imagination.
Perhaps the artist is merely very good at their trade, taking a skilled hand to the composition of their photographs. Looks can certainly be deceiving—he should have predicted that his expectations would be turned on their head.
Which is how Kabuto finds himself trussed and stripped and poised on his knees before said artist once their negotiations are dispensed with.
Finely manicured fingertips caress the line of his spine before nails scratch, three at once, raising lines of glowing sensation across his shoulder blades. And they don’t stop their downward trek, marking Kabuto, making him gasp. The air makes a sharp sound passing through his teeth.
“You’ll do, but for more reasons than you think. Reasons you may not expect.” Sasori says, “And for exactly those reasons, you’ll give me everything I want.”
“Will I?”
That hand takes hold of a generous handful of his hair and steadily pulls him back, forcing him to arch his spine. Those cruel lips brush Kabuto’s ear as Sasori speaks, his soft voice bright with amusement, “You will, or this little kingdom you’ve built for yourself will be winnowed away into dust and thrust into the wind for anyone to take. Admit it… you want me anyway.”
The words are smug even in their gentle tone, accented by soft puffs of humid breath against Kabuto’s neck, his loosened hair. He cannot see Sasori’s eyes, and a small, creeping desperation begins in the pit of his belly. Sasori pulls harder, making him twist, rubied lips nipping Kabuto’s own briefly, roughly.
“You should have known better than to seek me out when you’re entirely that snake’s creature… he did have rather delightful tastes though. Did you kneel for him too? Recount all your dirty little secrets for him?”
“You know I did,” Kabuto grits his teeth as Sasori’s dainty fist tightens harder in his hair.
“I know you did, which is why I’ll make sure he sees every lurid moment of this if you don’t do exactly as I like. And then you know he’ll cast you away for dallying with me, faithless boy...”
The threat feels real, so damn real that goosebumps chase the lengths of his limbs, and Kabuto shivers, allowing fear to catapult him closer to compliance. His pulse notches higher and his mouth runs dry. Sasori releases him as if throwing him back down again, but it’s only the effective toppling of his own weight. Every new touch is feather light, even as the artist’s hands explore his body, shoving him onto all fours, undignified, yet perfectly on display.
Sasori’s breath ripples down his spine, the wet heat of his tongue drifting along the lines his own nails followed in the moments prior. Blood rushes in Kabuto’s ears, and his pale hair falls forward, obscuring his burning cheeks as he sinks lower on his elbows, allowing Sasori full access to his body.
“Shameless and pretty all at once, just look at you, ready for anything,” Sasori muses, “I’d hate to keep you waiting.”
Sasori’s questing, tormenting hands begin to part him wide, exposing him further, nails digging into the softer flesh of his buttocks. Kabuto grits his teeth as Sasori’s wicked tongue plies at his hole, two deft fingers moving to spread wetness around the orifice before one of them dips inside him with ease.
“Ready for anything, indeed.”
A bottle clicks and cool slick drips over his skin, making Sasori’s next movements nearly effortless. He dips in and out with shallow strokes, toying at the edges of Kabuto’s passage, As Sasori bends to bite the curve of his hip, sharp and hot like a brand. He knows without knowing that the artist has marked him, and Kabuto gasps, placing a fist beneath his lips to muffle any noises which might come unbidden.
He fails, of course, when Sasori laughs against his skin, finding his prostate with near expert precision.
The pressure inside him shifts wider, deeper as digits spread and curl, scraping against nerves suddenly sensitized beyond compare. Kabuto’s sight wavers as if plunged underwater, his cock hard and already dripping, too much, too soon. Sasori’s methodical exploration only continues, with another finger wedging in place beside the others.
“You’re so needy that I’m almost thinking you could take my whole hand. You would if I wanted you too, wouldn’t you, greedy boy?” Sasori’s fingers drag and exploit every new bit of knowledge he’s gained until Kabuto is unable to stem the pleading noises that are not quite muffled by his fist.
“Use your words.”
“I--I can but it’s-it’s-too-much!” He blurts, his voice arching higher on the last few words. Kabuto’s face burns and his head swims, and he squeezes his eyes shut, fighting the urge to shove back anyway and chase the high that is just outside of his capability.
Sasori gives a chuffing little laugh, teasing his pinky finger just along the rim of him until Kabuto whines, and with a twist of his hand, all four enter to press and tease.
“Oh, good boy… you’re going to come just like this, only accepting what I give you for as long as it takes…”
It doesn’t take long at all for his voice to break the silence, for sticky heat to spatter his belly and the floor beneath him. For oblivion to cloud his mind and numb his awareness.
But it’s only the first part of their night.
Later, after Kabuto has been wrung out in every way he might have imagined, he is treated to a massage and a short rest wrapped in a warm blanket. His pretty new play partner fetches his things and offers him a drink. White tea, hot and perfect.
“So tell me, did we explore everything you wanted to?” Sasori appraises him from head to toe, searching for unease. The artist is more attentive than Kabuto had imagined, leaving no detail unexamined. It’s no wonder that he has connections with individuals that Kabuto respects among their circles.
“Ahh… yes, thank you for following the plan.”
"Any Dominant worth their salt would do no less. Your illustrious mentor failed you if he didn't set that expectation." Sasori sniffs, still maintaining physical contact.
Kabuto hazards a wry smile. "He did. I'd have stopped everything in its tracks if you'd been lacking. But as it stands I'd like to see you again."
Sasori gives a curt nod, but the softening of his mouth gives away his satisfaction. "So long as you never leave me waiting, we’ll have much to explore."
Perhaps it's a good thing that Kabuto's punctuality is a personal guarantee.
#kabusaso#sasokabu#sasori#kabuto#rose's extended kinktober#naruto smut monday#my fanfics#awintersrose#lemony lemony lemonade#if you enjoy it please let me know?#please refer to listed warnings and AO3 tags
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JAY B Interview [HYPEBEAST]
From GOT7 to H1GHR MUSIC’s JAY B
On the 11th of May, it was announced that GOT7’s leader JAY B had joined H1GHR MUSIC. Ever since his time in JYPE, Jay B has been taking on the responsibility of writing lyrics and composing songs for albums, even participating as a producer. On Soundcloud, he has released 5 mixtapes under the name Def., showing his ambition as a solo musician in various instances. That’s why the fact that he did not join a KPOP entertainment company but instead joined H1GHR MUSIC is not a particularly surprising thing. However, it’s no lie that this will bring a huge change to his career as an artist. <HYPEBEAST> met with JAY B and had a talk about the reason he decided to move (to H1GHR MUSIC), his new single ‘Switch It Up’, his future activities as well as his ambition.
HYPEBEAST: You’re known for being on “team mint chocolate”. You even left comments about it on <HYPEBEAST>’s instagram page.
JAY B: I like the way the flavour is pungent yet wrapped up in chocolate. I don’t really like plain chocolate. I like it when something is added to it, such as chocolate milk or white chocolate, but when I had mint chocolate for the first time, it was really revolutionary. After that, I’ve been enjoying eating it.
HB: It’s still something that sparks a lot of debate. There are also a lot of products released aimed to spark controversy.
JAY B: There’s something I always say. If I am eating it well and I like it, I just hope that you won’t say things like “why would you eat that?” to me. If you’re enjoying your food and then someone next to you says that sort of thing, you’d lose your appetite, right? Just don’t say that kind of thing to someone who’s eating. Let’s love one another!
HB: Your group, GOT7, left JYP Entertainment after 7 years. How did you feel promoting without a company for the past few months?
JAY B: I feel the same now. It’s more fun. Personally, one of the reasons why I decided to leave JYP was because I wanted to take on more challenges. Maybe it’s because of that but the time I spent as a kind of freelancer felt really new. Even though I won’t be able to know everything about what kind of system I’ll be working in, I got to learn about it roughly and gained a more serious attitude regarding work. I also felt a sense of pride and that it was precious.
HB: Out of the ‘challenges’ you mentioned, your photo exhibition was one of them, right? We heard that you like taking pictures.
JAY B: Even this morning, I saw a pigeon spread only one side of its wings. I’ve never seen that before, so I wanted to take a picture of it, but in a short moment it sensed that I was there and flew away. I’m the kind of person who takes a lot of pictures of those little moments. In that way, I got to hold a photo exhibition too. Honestly, I was embarrassed to do the exhibition. I was just going to try to do it personally as a small thing with the pictures I took myself, but JYPE said “let’s do it even better”, and as we exchanged ideas, the scale got a bit larger.
HB: Is there a particular theme that you like when taking pictures?
JAY B: I’m the kind of person who comes up with (themes) as I take the pictures. As I am taking pictures of something, thoughts like “ah, it would be fun to hold exhibitions with this kind of pictures” come to mind. For my first exhibition, I took pictures revolving around the theme of ‘loneliness’, ‘living alone’, and ‘even if you are living alone, you need someone by your side’. It was mainly involving people/figures, but I actually prefer taking pictures of landscapes or larger compositions.
HB: In the past, you’ve said “I think my next album will be a product that includes the loneliness felt in life”. Is it related to your first photo exhibition <ALONE>?
JAY B: There’s no relation between the two. I wanted to work out all the feelings I had after being under a lot of pressure as I lived my life. Putting aside whether the album is good or not, I think it will be an album where I honestly share what I felt when I felt pressured. I don’t know whether or not it will be released, and if it does, I don’t know in what form it will be released in, but for now I’ve just made the album with this theme. It might sound boring, but it contains a lot of my honest thoughts.
HB: We don’t know when or how, but it will probably be released through H1GHR MUSIC now right? After your contract ended with JYP, you probably received offers from various places, why did you choose H1GHR MUSIC?
JAY B: I’m well aware of the fact that I was protected by the fence called JYP. But as I mentioned previously, I left JYP because I wanted to try and experience something on my own. I also had doubts regarding whether I was an artist who could bring in as much profit as the company wanted. I think that changing my image in order to earn a profit is something that I’ve done a lot in the past. After leaving the company, I received offers from multiple places, and some were really good companies too. However, the most important thing was that it had to be a company that I could exchange opinions and create with. I think H1GHR MUSIC matched up with that the best.
HB: As the field of your promotions change, it will probably come with some concerns as well.
JAY B: I’m the kind of person who worries a lot and is cautious. My own concerns aside, I was really worried about whether H1GHR MUSIC’s image would be damaged because I joined. I thought people might say that an idol joining would muddy the waters* (*ruin the label’s image). No matter if there’s a good or bad reaction, H1GHR MUSIC has already accomplished things, and I would be a new addition. On top of that, I’m not someone who is just starting to make music. I’m making a new image based on the one I already had. Even so, just this once, I wanted to make a decision that was for myself. That’s why I was even more cautious with each and every step.
HB: Is the title of your new single ’Switch It Up’ referring to the changes you are going through?
JAY B: When I came up with the title, I did think that it was possible to give it that sort of meaning. I wanted to express a basic love story while also including the meaning of switching up my life. However, Jay Park hyung gave me some advice, saying that rather than doing that, it might be better for me to naturally blend in what I’ve already been doing. Following that advice, even though the title itself carries the meaning of change, the lyrics are just about love.
HB: How was your first production at H1GHR MUSIC?
JAY B: I had a lot of concerns and was worried. After I made the decision to join H1GHR MUSIC, I told Jay hyung that I wanted to release a song or an album quickly. It just so happened Cha Cha Malone was back in Korea, so we aligned our schedules and produced songs together. Everything happened naturally. Jay hyung said that I shouldn’t go all out from the beginning, and that it’s more important to keep going steadily. I agree with that. I’m satisfied with the result too. I worry a lot so I’m the type to ask around for opinions, but everyone said it was good. But honestly, I’m not sure how the public will react to it. (laughs)
HB: Sokodomo’s feature was really impressive, how did he end up participating in the song?
JAY B: The funny thing is, it really came about naturally too. When I went to the studio, sokodomo was there and he asked if he could stay while we were working on our songs, so we said it was okay. As we worked on songs like that, after I finished up my recording, sokodomo suddenly went into the recording studio. I was wondering “what’s going on?”, but what sokodomo showed us was really good. Turns out, while I was recording, he came up with some ideas and asked if it was okay if he tried it out which I didn’t hear. But what sokodomo came up with was a style that I couldn’t express well. And so right there and then, I cautiously asked if he would be willing to feature in the song, and he agreed without hesitation. That part was so good that I even thought “I can’t be eaten by (overshadowed) sokodomo”. Haha.
HB: In the past, you were a B-boy, and even in GOT7 you received a lot of attention for your dancing. So we were wondering if we would get to see you dance to ’Switch It Up’.
JAY B: You’ll be able to see it through the live clip that will be released at the same time as the single. There are various elements in the live clip. First of all, I tried really hard to make it look cool. I sang live with sokodomo too. I think there’s a lot to see. The dance comes on at the very end. I thought that since I’m a performer, I should dance too. Honestly, at first when I listened to ‘Switch It Up’, I thought it would be kind of hard to dance to it. But even so, I have to dance. Other artists are cool too, but I think Chris Brown is really cool. He dances and sings at the same time really well. Because dance was my beginning, and I gained interest in singing later on and ended up working hard at it, I can’t let go of dance.
HB: Do you have any plans or ideas for the next album you’ll release through H1GHR MUSIC?
JAY B: I think that I have to move quickly. I’ll have to wait and see what I’ll end up with, but for now, I think it’s closer to a chill vibe. ‘Switch It Up’ was chill, but it still had a kind of energy to it. Rather than that, I think it will probably be the kind of music that is suitable to listen to while going for a drive. I want to show music that’s groovier and more sensual as much as possible. But I still don’t know. It’s possible that the company might say “let’s go for pop.” I want to create things together with the company, so I’m open to accommodating their opinions for a couple songs.
HB: You’re also promoting with the name Def. and not Jay B. Why did you come up with the name Def.?
JAY B: Actually, even in the early days of GOT7, I didn’t feel any attachment to the name JB. I felt really strongly that it was a name that someone else came up with. I’m more comfortable with people calling me by my birth name, Jaebeom, too. Of course, I like it now. I wanted to separate Jay B and Def., that’s why they are separated. When I was in JYP, I got permission to release my music on Soundcloud, but I couldn’t release albums separately. So I released all the music that I couldn’t release as JB through Def. For now, I decided I would make music that people could approach more comfortably under the name Jay B, and I would release things that are more to what I want to do through Def. I’m not sure how it will end up in the future though.
HB: Listening to the music under these two names, there is quite a difference. The music you release under the name Def. has more characteristics of the neo soul genre.
JAY B: When I made <1/? Vol. 1>, I liked trap soul, so it contains a lot of that kind of music. After that as well, it mostly is filled with songs that were the style that I liked at the time. If you listen to my mixtape, excluding the intro and outro, there are about 5 songs. While I prepared those songs, I also worked on 15 songs that would be for GOT7 albums at the same time, making about 20 songs at a time. I’d work on GOT7 songs from morning till late night and if I had time, I would then work on my mixtape. That’s why they are songs that I really cherish. People might wonder why I would work so hard, but I thought that as an idol, I have to do my job well so that I can gain autonomy within the company. That’s why I worked hard and pushed myself to my limits.
HB: When will we be able to hear your music as Def.?
JAY B: Firstly, I want to get my name as Jay B out there, and later on I want to use the name Def. again when I can do what I want. Things that are more unusual, alternative, and experimental.
HB: Hearing you talk, we can really feel the love you have for music. You also seem like a realistic person.
JAY B: It’s because I feel that if I stubbornly insist on doing what I want to do and it doesn’t turn out well, I’d get a rough reality check. I’m a cautious person, so if I persist only on what I want and then fail, I’d end up thinking that I just have no aptitude for music, and I thought that is more dangerous. If that happens, I’d feel sorry for the music that I like and I might even think that there was something wrong with the music or genres that I like. People might say that that’s “not real”, but it’s “real” to me. It’s just my way of living.
HB: You’re currently also in the crew ‘ØFFSHORE.’ What kind of crew is it?
JAY B: It’s a place where people who sell songs commercially and people who make their own music gather. It started with the purpose of people with the same interests making fun music together and releasing it. Offshore has the meaning of “shore/coast”. On the shore, there are lots of living things. There are times when the waves crash but also times when it’s calm. Just like my Def. character, I think it’s a place where I can freely include things I’ve never done before. It will carry on in the future too, but we won’t have any eye-catching activities. We’ll just go on calmly.
HB: As you share your stories, we’re getting curious about Jay B as a producer too. Will we be able to hear songs that you produce for other artists someday?
JAY B: When I was in JYP, I’ve sent out songs that the publisher said would not work for GOT7. There were also songs that were selected by other people but could not be used because of my name. Now, I don’t think there will be those sorts of limitations, so I want to try producing for other people too. I don’t have confidence in being responsible for someone or nurturing trainees, though. I’m still busy trying to feed myself. But even so, I’d like to try to produce just one song for someone else. I would have a sort of image about someone, right? An image that they themselves wouldn’t even know. I think the process of trying to bring that out would be fun. Of course, I’m focused on my music now, but it would be nice if I got the chance someday.
HB: Another GOT7 member, Yugyeom, joined AOMG. Fans can’t help but look forward to the reunion of your unit ‘Jus2’.
JAY B: Since Yugyeom is in AOMG, I think that if we talk to Jay hyung, it’s possible that we will release something as Jus2. Jus2 and JJ Project both include Jay B, but they are also units that are part of GOT7. I think that if we work hard at promoting them too, fans would feel a sense of security. I think that from now on is the time when both I, as well as GOT7, have to really do well.
HB: You mentioned that you wanted to release 1 GOT7 album a year.
JAY B: I don’t know whether it will work out, but we have to try and plan for it. I’ve mentioned multiple times that GOT7 has not disbanded. I believe that I should keep my word. Right now, everyone is actually busy working on their own things. Even so, we want to try and make one song for GOT7 a month, so that we can promote about once a year.
HB: You have a strong image as a great leader and hyung in GOT7. What would you like to show as JAY B in H1GHR MUSIC?
JAY B: I would like to hear people say “ah, I guess they did a good job bringing him in”. I hope that when people listen to ’Switch It Up’, they won’t think that “Jay Park made the wrong choice this time”. I think it would be nice if people thought that I was worth anticipating. Not that they brought in some strange kid. I don’t want to get cursed at. Haha.
HB: Do you have a final goal you want to achieve as an artist?
JAY B: I don’t. I just want to keep on steadily and quietly making music. To me, saying that you want to receive some sort of reward or that you want to become something is quite vague. I just hope that I can gain the drive to keep going on steadily and continue that cycle of creation. That’s all.
Translation by @mindellay x @defdaily
May contain slight inaccuracies.
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Pash!+ Interview with Andou Masaomi and Nakanishi Yasuhiro
Commentary by “Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun” director, Andou Masaomi, and series composer/scriptwright, Nakanishi Yasuhiro, about the whole series!
“Hanako-kun might be a story about a mermaid princess being held captive by an apparition.”
In commemoration of the Blu-ray & DVD release of the TV anime “Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun”, director Andou Masaomi and series composer/scriptwright Nakanishi Yasuhiro reveal production secrets and hidden stories. The July issue of PASH! is now on sale, and the August issue, which will be released on Friday, July 10th, is being delivered in large amounts.
Here, we will do a partial introduction of the commentary as a special feature!
Apparition #1, “Hanako-san of the Toilet”
Summary
Yashiro Nene, a first-year student at the high school of Kamome Academy, summons “Hanako-san of the Toilet”, who is said to grant a wish in exchange for something important, in order to have her feelings corresponded by her senior. However, the one who appeared to her was a boy’s ghost!?
Andou: The first thing that left a deep impression on me in Apparition #1 was the classroom’s stained glass. This scenario is most present in the original work, as the classrooms of Kamome Academy have a stained glass design that goes up from the first to the last floor and divides them into motifs of “sea floor”, “water surface” and “sky”. Nene’s high school first-year classroom is in the “sea floor”. Even now, I still remember feeling the definite power of art and photography involved in this work when I saw the beauty of the stained glass that made an opening for sunset glow in the latter half of Apparition #1. “This will be a wonderful work...” I thought. It was as if the classroom itself was inside a fish tank.
Speaking of which, on Apparition #1, it was Hanako who trapped fish!Nene in a tank, and it is also Hanako who rescues her from it. If you do a stretch in interpretation, the girls’ toilet at sunset can also be deemed as something like a fish tank enclosing Nene. Portrayals of water often appear within the apparitions’ spaces in the series. Looking at it from Nene’s point of view, perhaps not only Apparition #1 but the whole plot might be “the story of a mermaid princess imprisioned by an apparition”. In doing so, the line-up of the classrooms’ stained glass going from the “sea floor” up to the “sky” as the students pass through each year feels like something suggestive for the future of the story in some way. AidaIro is terrifying.
Nakanishi-san, who pieced together the series composition, is also a meritorious person who drew the anime-original moment where Hanako peeks at Nene from the heart shape that he made with his fingers in Apparition #1. He is a reliable writer who can not only put together a whole story but also apply these subtle maneuvers everywhere. There was also the skill of the video editor, Itou-san, who made the contents that brimmed with fun to the point it feels like their filling would spill a little into something that stayed the same in consistency but had its rhythm toned down in order not to be too hasty. Up to this point, some peope might have already noticed it, but I am going to confess before-hand that my comments in this review are generally a repentance for how talented the animation staff of “Hanako-kun” is and how easy the director had it.
Nakanishi: When we were applying “Jibaku Shounen Hanako-kun” into the media called anime, what I thought that seemed the most difficult to handle was the original work’s mysterious atmosphere. It was the part about how much we could depict the sense of distance between Hanako-kun and Nene-chan. I thought we would not be able to convey the appeal of this series to the non-reader viewers unless we portrayed Hanako-kun and Nene-chan’s first meeting with the same care as in the source material, so I was watchful of Apparition #1′s screenplay in order to recreate the original as faithfully as possible.
Apparition #2, “The Fairies”
Summary
Having become Hanako-san’s assistant, Nene complains as she is constantly made to clean up the toilet every day. One day, several cases of missing belongings occur in the school. According to the students’ rumors, it seems to be the work of “fairies”...?
Andou: The Mokke’s first appearance! The Mokke walking, bouncing and talking on-screen! It is no exaggeration to say that the world was saved and the purpose of this anime adaptation was achieved by that alone! There is nothing else to talk about in this episode. Oh, and Kou-kun also shows up.
…I’m sorry. There are many other things to talk about. In particular, I want to mention that the colors change in various ways on Apparition #2. We have an art and cell design that is already excellent just for being able to properly reproduce the original work’s unique, slightly dégradé and pop-like color palettes, but this work does not stop at just that. The series’ setting is limited to a school, and normally, there are not supposed to be any color changes in the same corridors or rooftops, but this time, due to my selfishness, we took the reckless action of changing the whole screen’s color palettes in order to match the types of apparition and the charatcers’ state of mind. This is an amazing thing. I’m… I’m truly sorry.
For example, if we extract only the corridor scene, firstly, it starts with a dim and quiet corridor in the afternoon, and after the combined King Mokke appears, it transforms completely into a spooky corridor of reddish black Mokke color, but once Hanako banishes it, the corridor turns into a happy and warm one. I would like everyone to watch the show again paying attention to the wonderful animation making of the art, cell colorings and the photography staff who put them together, which made these unreasonable requests into a reality throughout the whole series, with a sense that did not destroy the atmosphere of the Hanako world, on top of that. And Mokke too!
Nakanishi: This is an episode where, through the meeting between an apparition that exists in the school and a human being who saw apparitions as hostile, the worldview spread out considerably, even though the setting is only the school. As we were making the original work, which is still on-going, into a one-cour show, I feel like how a human and an apparition would become close to each other... turned into the main theme. I added Nene’s monologue at the end with this meaning to it.
#jibaku shounen hanako kun#toilet bound hanako kun#hanakodaily#jshk#hanako#tbhk#yugi amane#hanako kun#yashiro nene#minamoto kou#andou masaomi#nakanishi yasuhiro#anime#interview#pash#my translation#i hope i can get to read the rest of this thing one day aaaaa#'cause this was interesting as hell
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yandere jotaro kujo x reader
anonymous asked: “Yandere!Pining! Jotaro & innocent, oblivious fem!reader c: Dense reader thinks they're just friends, even with how overly possessive Jotaro has been lately. Please & thank you!!! I love your writing uwu have a nice day!!🐬”
hello and ty for the request!! :)) i love yandere content!!
jotaro kujo is a very disingenuous/manipulative yandere. his aloof and calm demeanor makes every word or phrase that leaves his lips appear completely truthful and/or genuine. the fact that he only speaks when necessary only cements the effect he has over you.
you never stood a chance, he supposed. jotaro attempted to convince himself that his pining for you was actually a favor: you were far too innocent and it was almost inevitable for someone to string you up in their web. he had merely decided to act on his urges first, actually deluding himself into believing that this behavior was only normal.
it was only normal to watch you from afar. it was only normal to think about how you laughed and swayed and spoke and breathed and slept and ..
every waking moment and even when he dreamed intense dreams, containing the fruit of his labors, did he think of his oblivious “lover.” to him, the relationship was already established despite you two only being on friendly terms.
the friendship was new, at best. you hardly thought of him other than a powerful, kind man.
jotaro has begun texting you; informing you that he wants to join you on days that contain your typical repetition. it was strange that he knew your grocery shopping days. it was strange to see him outside of your classroom once the lecture had finished. he would lean against a wall, seeming only a part of the scenery with his stoic expression and unapproachable aura.
you hardly noticed and for that, he fell harder. he mistook your innocence for compliance. “if she didn’t want me, she would say something. she wants me just as much as i want her,” he always tries to rationalize his behavior.
scenario beneath the cut!
The trembling of his fists was visible even through the hot tears that bubbled down your cheeks. As you made out the back of Jotaro's shoulders, you could only wonder what was racing through his often unreadable mind. The tautness within his clenched fists had begun to turn the usually warm color of his skin, an unmistakable white. You had heard Jotaro approaching beforehand, his loud footsteps pulled you away from some man that had approached you. You focused on your prior company; murder reflected so prominently in his aquamarine eyes, the usual softness that he gazed upon you with seemed to disappear with ease.
You had never seen another person show so much unadulterated rage.
The unfortunate man had attempted to approach you and strike up some conversation. He almost immediately received a firm blow to his jaw, ruthless and raw in composition. The object of his frustration precariously began to return to his feet after receiving Jotaro’s fist, cupping the throbbing source of his pain and regaining composure after the blackout. The whole interaction didn't span longer than a few minutes. Jotaro merely stared. The stone within his features as unforgiving as the attack he gave. The intruder gave a final, dark look to Jotaro before scurrying off, like the rat he was.
The pure hatred that twisted Jotaro's handsome features, even as he heard you release a choked sob behind him, was terrifying. The expression failed to vanish with his eyes still on the stranger's fleeting figure. You had a grip on his coat now, your trembling fingers grabbing fistfuls of the thick material. “Jotaro? Wh - What are you doing?" You cried, your free hand went to sloppily towel at the evidence of your emotion. Your voice was melodic to him, easing Jotaro to return to a conscientious state. He blinked back to the present and displayed minimal movement of his head to give you a bit of a side-eye. He took in his "sweetheart's" crying appearance and felt nothing but pride for being able to defend your honor. He was protecting you. That's why you must be crying: because that piece of shit had been bothering you. The initial reaction of his was to call it annoying how you cried and carried on. Though, that was only due to habit. The sight of you before him expressing your emotions only made his own stir within.
The tears continued to roll down your cheeks, to which Jotaro would eventually turn at their sight. One of his large palms met your cheek, cupping the delicate, fragile features of his obsession. The unwavering stare he sent down to you was distant and deluded entirely. Yet, you'd never been able to identify the hints of his obsession. "Hey," The man begins, his voice surprisingly docile, hoping to coax you with its low and calming register. "Don't cry anymore." It felt almost like a command. "I took care of it." His eyes were seemingly drawing you in: the sight of such otherwordly irises was almost hypnotizing. Though, they were lined with hidden undertones of some emotion you couldn't exactly decipher. Your mouth formed a lax 'O', revealing your genuine ignorance about the dynamic of both the whole situation and your relationship with him. Jotaro continued with his speech, the pad of his thumb whisking away tears if they followed the path downward.
"I know you couldn't tell him that you wanted him gone. That's why I'm here. I'll always take care of it."
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[CN] Lucien’s Mirror Painting Date (Eng Translation)
🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒
Kiss Dates Collection: Gavin // Kiro // Victor
The date begins with MC feeling down because she can’t find inspiration for an “Amateur Painting Exhibition” she agreed to participate in.
The uniqueness of this exhibition lies in how it does not require professionalism. The main purpose is to exhibit differing definitions of dreams held by different people.
Since there’s no requirement to be a professional, I agreed to participate without hesitation. However, even after a few days, I don’t have a single idea...
Lucien: Silly, we still have time, so there’s no hurry to think.
MC: Do you have any ideas then?
While I speak, light silently trickles into the living room, illuminating the room in an instant. A faint ray of light shines around Lucien’s eyes, and he involuntarily averts his eyes. Seeing that it was the makeup mirror which reflected the light, I hurriedly turn the mirror face-down on the table.
In a moment, bits of ideas bubble within my heart.
MC: Lucien, I think I have some inspiration, but I’m not sure if it’d work...
Lucien: I’m guessing that you want to use the refraction from the mirror to shine light onto the canvas?
I look at Lucien in shock. Looks like we both thought about this “opportunistic method” at the same time.
MC: Mm, but this is only to add a bit of colour. The more important part depends on Professor Lucien.
While speaking, I tap my head with a hand.
Lucien: Have you forgotten that the manager specially pointed out that the artwork must be created by two people?
MC: My art skills are at the level of an elementary school student. I’m afraid the “dream” would be extinguished.
Lucien: Everything has an area where it can come in handy. Perhaps your stroke could be the finishing touch which brings the art to life.
MC starts getting pumped up and asks where they should start.
Lucien: I know a place which will have something we want.
They walk through several quiet alleys and end up outside a shop.
The unique design of the shop sign, which is a mirror, gives me a sense of anticipation.
MC: This is the place?
Lucien nods with feigned secrecy. I push the door open curiously, and let out a laugh when I look at the scene before me.
In the middle of the shop rests a distorting mirror.
In the mirror, Lucien’s head is magnified several times, and the subtle changes in his expression are made more prominent.
Perhaps due to our height differences, my head is not as magnified, but has become square-shaped.
While I originally wanted to tease Lucien, I quickly become embarrassed.
MC: This is… really ugly.
Lucien: I think it’s quite adorable.
Hearing these untruths, I narrow my eyes at him.
MC: Then tell me how this is adorable!
Lucien retracts his smile and stares at the mirror in deep thought, attempting to find “evidence” that the square-shaped “me” is adorable.
Lucien: Eyes, nose, mouth…
Even before he finishes speaking, he lets out a light chuckle. I catch the playful glint in his eyes.
MC: Hmph. Look at you, looking so rounded.
Shop manager: Sorry to interrupt. Is there anything I can do for you two?
MC: We’re here to buy a mirror. Could I trouble you to recommend us…
MC details what exactly she’s looking for, and the shop manager shows her mirrors to choose from. After she’s done with her purchase, Lucien asks the manager for defective mirrors.
MC: Why do you need defective mirrors?
Lucien: Mirrors that are not smooth can diffuse reflection. This way, the mirror will scatter light at different angles.
Lucien explains gently. Although I’m not clear about the principles behind it, it sounds like a good idea.
MC realizes that the painting seems more like an Installation art and requires a lot of items to make possible. She starts worrying about how to transport the art to the exhibition. Lucien has an idea – to work on the artwork directly at the exhibition venue.
They head to the Oil Painting Museum to ask the manager for permission to do so.
Just as the manager struggles to find the words to reject their request, Lucien tells him something. With that, the manager agrees and brings them in.
I tug on Lucien’s sleeve gently and ask in a quiet voice.
MC: What did you say to the manager?
Lucien: I told him that today is our anniversary, so I asked him to make an exception for us.
MC: Lucien…
Looking at his serious face as he explains, my face involuntarily turns red. Just as I’m about to say something, the manager suddenly turns around, and I immediately lower my head.
~
In the exhibition room:
MC: What should we paint?
Lucien lowers his head and gently wipes the paintbrush. The corner of his mouth is raised, as though he already had an idea from the start.
Lucien: MC, what do you want to paint?
I originally thought he would give me a direct idea, and didn’t expect him to return the question.
MC: Although the refracted light from by the mirrors can create a dream-like effect, the painting itself is the most important. In that case, what kind of painting can channel a dream-like feeling?
Countless ideas float in my mind – fairytale worlds, surreal realities…
But a face gradually becomes clear in my mind. His appearance makes all the other ideas pale in comparison.
MC: Lucien…
I softly whisper the name belonging to the face appearing in my mind.
Lucien: What’s wrong?
He hears the sound I made, and slowly puts down the paintbrush while looking at me.
MC: I think I know what to paint now.
Lucien: What is it?
MC: You. The main purpose of this exhibition is to see the different definitions of dreams held by different people. My definition of dreams is… you.
Hearing this, Lucien looks visibly moved. He walks towards me slowly, leans over and gently pinches my cheeks.
Lucien: Silly. The manager said that this artwork is meant to be a collaborative effort. It can’t just feature your definition of dreams, but our definition of dreams. If that’s the case, it should be us.
Lucien responds in a quiet voice, handing me a paintbrush.
Lucien: We’ll each paint one stroke. This way, you wouldn’t be lazy.
MC: I wouldn’t be lazy. I’m filled with motivation right now!
They start painting.
Whenever I see my reflection in his eyes, it makes me feel incredibly peaceful.
Lucien: What are you smiling at?
MC: I… am wondering how this painting would turn out.
Lucien turns his head to the blank canvas. He thinks for a moment, then lets out an assured smile.
Lucien: Let’s finish it together then.
With this, he lifts the paintbrush to draw a line on the canvas. While the lines are seemingly random, they gradually reveal an outline-
MC: Eh? Are we the two people in the painting?
I lean towards the canvas as my eyes rove over it, trying to find any strange marks. Finally, my line of sight rests on “my” ear.
MC: My ears have become sharper?
Lucien responds with a subtle nod and adds a few strokes to the canvas.
Lucien: It was a sudden inspiration to give you elf ears.
MC: In that case, I also want to improvise.
I tilt my head to think for a while, then lift my hand, gently pressing my brush to the canvas. My fingers tremble slightly as I’m not used to this posture.
I mimic Lucien’s actions, and create an outline that is slightly crooked.
MC: Look, I’ve also added pointy ears for you! Although… it doesn’t look that good…
Lucien doesn’t speak, and instead looks at the canvas quietly. After a short silence, he turns his head, his eyes deep.
Lucien: Sometimes, you don’t necessarily have to draw it accurately. Using your imagination could bring about better results.
After saying this, Lucien turns to the misshaped “ears” with amusement.
I look at the outline on the canvas thoughtfully, and suddenly think of something.
I reach out to hold Lucien’s hand. The strokes are gentle yet accurate on the canvas.
MC: Lucien, let’s use our imagination together! Over here, our hands… can be a little longer. And over here, a star underneath our feet…
The sounds outside the window gradually quieten. I hold onto Lucien’s hand as we continue painting every stroke.
Without knowing how much time passed, the lines on the painting grow in number. There is no deliberate composition, proportion, or perspective - we are creating as we please.
After the final brushstroke, I release an exuberant smile.
The painting features two people in an embrace, surrounded by trees. From afar, it looks like “we” have blended in with the forest.
MC: This should be all right.
Lucien smiles while nodding. He turns towards the window. The sky has already started turning to dusk.
Lucien: I think the mirrors should make an appearance now.
They place mirrors in different parts of the room. As the sun sets, the mirrors start refracting light.
“We” seem to be in a colourful forest, and every ray of light is a gift from nature.
MC: Lucien, we’ve succeeded!
The sun sets, and the studio grows dim.
MC: The sun went down so quickly that I didn’t get to properly appreciate it before it disappeared…
Lucien: Even though there’s no sunlight, it doesn’t mean we will be plunged into darkness.
Even before I react, a ray of light appears from behind me.
I turn towards the window to see streetlamps lighting up one by one. The studio is once again illuminated with colours.
The mirrors once again play their roles, and the refracted light returns the canvas to its splendor.
Under the light, the “us” in the painting seemingly come to life, and it looks like we are dancing.
Lucien: When the light falls onto the canvas… it’s very beautiful.
While Lucien says this, he wraps an arm around me from behind.
Lucien: I really like the way you imagine us. You gave me a dream today, and this moment is wonderful.
I turn to face Lucien and bury my face in his chest.
MC: I hope the visitors can feel our hearts on the day of the exhibition.
Lucien: I am very lucky then, because I am a participant in your heart.
We stop talking, quietly enjoying the colours we painted together.
Instead of just thinking about each other, we should fill our hearts with “us”.
This day is a dream belonging only to us.
#mlqc#mlqc cn#mlqc spoilers#mlqc lucien#Victor: SEXY KISS#Gavin: INTENSE KISS#Kiro: LOVE BITE#Lucien: haha paint
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This compilation of songs is not meant as a historic reflection of popular music of the “Arab world.” It is a very personal selection of songs we grew to like at Habibi Funk. It is music that historically never existed as a unified musical genre. We think it’s important to make this distinction and to have the listener understand that the majority of the music on this compilation does not come from the highly famous names of the musical spectrum of North Africa and the Middle East. Instead, the final body compiled for this record consists of some – at least for us – nichey pearls and often overlooked artists; resulting in a diverse range of styles from Egyptian organ funk, disco sounds from Morocco, an example of the lively reggae scene of Libya, political songs from Lebanon, soundtrack music from Alge- ria, a musical union between Kenya and Oman, and much more.
The photo we chose for this cover somehow could be seen as an allegory of the sounds we feature on the label. It depicts Algerian composer Ahmed Malek at an ice cream bar dur- ing his stay in Japan for the World Expo in Osaka, 1970. He later said that his visit to Japan and especially the manga culture left a distinctive mark on the way he created his own compositions. With this in mind, it feels as a suiting visual representation for the mu- sic on this compilation.
Accordingly, the compilation you are holding in your hands offers a much wider range of music than just funk influenced sounds. Sure, it brings back Fadoul, who we have already dedicated a full length album to. He was the mystical Moroccan singer who - influenced by the sounds of James Brown- created his own musical vision full of energy but also still very intimate. Another artist we have featured before is Ahmed Malek, the grand Algerian soundtrack composer, whose music is largely connected by a distinct feeling of melancholic beauty or Hamid Al Shaeri, the Egyptian hit producer whose track “Ayonha” was probably the most widely appre-ciated track off our first compilation. But we have also learned that this format of a compilation can serve as a medium to introduce artists to our audience, who we are planning to dedicate full length releases to in the near future, such as Ibrahim Hesnawi. Hesnawi is the father of reggae music in Libya - a genre still widely popular in Libya - and whose presence in the country is commonly connected to the rhyth- mic similarities of reggae with some form of Libyan folkloric music. Nahib Alhoush is another Libyan artist, whose musical output we will spotlight in the near future. In the 1970s, he was the co-founder of Free Music, one of the first Libyan bands introducing western influences into their music. After the band stopped performing together he started an at least equally successful solo career under his own name.
When I got into Arabic music around five or six years ago, I knew pretty much nothing about it. Realistically, I still know very, very little about it and I’m by no means an expert. I just had the opportunity to visit the region frequently, trying to learn about music I might like. Most of the bands, I happen to enjoy, were fairly obscure and therefore a lot of the music on this compilation seems to be largely forgotten. After sharing many of the old records and tapes online through mixes, I have realized that there is a huge disparity be- tween the interest in the music on the one hand and its availability on the other.
All tracks on this compilation are fully licensed, most directly from the artist or in the case of artists, who are deceased licensed from the artist’s family. There are two exceptions: Hamid Al Shaeri’s track was licensed from SLAM! as the label is still active under the name Sonar. Zohra’s “Badala Zamana” from the great Belgian label MTMU, who has reissued this track under license from the producer on 7” format before. As a European label dealing with non- western artists we try to be aware of the responsibilities that derive within the making, regarded from a post-colonial point of view by demanding on ourselves not to reproduce exploitative economic patterns. We split all of the profits from our releases equally with the artists without deducting any costs that are not directly related to the release (e.g. we pay for our research to find an artist as well as all travel costs from our share of the profit). Our agreements are licensed deals with limited terms after which the rights fall back to the artist or the artist’s family. The master rights stay with the artists, we just license them. We do not include publishing rights in our deals. We think it is important in today's reissue market, where too many shady business transactions happen, to be transparent about our licensing policies. We are always available for any questions, requests as well as more detailed information.
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The Mars Volta - Amputechture (2006) 15 year retrospective
This week marks the 15th anniversary of The Mars Volta's third LP, Amputechture. In time to celebrate, German label Clouds Hill teamed up with the band to remaster and re-release the album on vinyl, first as part of an epic 18-disc box set released earlier this year, and then as an individual release this month.
The follow-up to their seminal Frances the Mute, Amputechture sees the band explore even more experimental territory than its predecessors. Superficially, the group has frequently drawn comparisons to Led Zeppelin, Rush, Yes, Santana or even contemporaries like Coheed & Cambria, but anyone with half an ear can tell you there's something more to their sound than the dusty old prog LPs in your dad's garage.
The songs on Amputechture may each be student-film length, but they are modern, instantaneous, plaintive, combustive. Guitarist Omar Rodriguez-Lopez cites salsa virtuosos like Larry Harlow and Charlie Palmieri; hardcore acts like Black Flag and Bad Brains; and the films of Werner Herzog and Fellini as bigger influences than the stuffier sounds of the 70s rock canon. If anything, they channel the more experimental fusion stylings of King Crimson and Mahavishnu Orchestra through their unstable, Latin-tinged take on progressive post-hardcore into this juggernaut of a record.
Some, like me, consider it a testament to the maturity of their compositional abilities. Some, like the self-appointed taste-making dickheads at Pitchfork, considered it wildly self-indulgent. While reception proved somewhat divisive in the day, the overall reception was typically positive, if bewildered.
It's no secret to anyone who knows me that I'm a die-hard fan, so I'll dispense any pretense that I could ever do an objective critical review. There are dozens of them out there, so when I talk about music, I prefer to cover what fascinates me personally about it rather than attempt to synthesize what another listener might take away from it. Amputechture, long considered by the group to be their "misunderstood, autistic child," is in fact my favorite record of theirs, and perhaps my favorite record of all-time.
That's not to say that I would recommend it to just anyone. Even a lot of fans of their first two records found this at-times cacophonous melee of a record to be a bridge too far, and I can understand. Maybe it was a time-and-place kind of thing, but to me their music always sounded closest to the actual chaos swirling in my angsty young adult brain. Their Rick Rubin-produced first album was by far their most palatable outing; their second was a band able to introduce themselves on their own terms; but Amputechture was for those who had already bought in entirely and were ready to take the next step with them. And I certainly was.
Where their first two records were ostensibly narrative concepts -- the first, a hallucinatory sci-fi adventure in the mind of a comatose man; the second, an adopted man trying to uncover the horrifying secret of his birth family -- singer Cedric Bixler-Zavala wanted to take a different conceptual approach this time around. Instead of a unifying narrative, he wanted to invoke tv shows like Rod Serling's Night Gallery or movies like P.T. Anderson's Magnolia, where individual narratives (as represented by each of the eight songs) shared a common, connective thematic thread.
The band has often cited film as not only a primary influence, but also as a feeling they're trying to recreate. They certainly succeed in that -- Amputechture's cinematic pacing is undeniable. Songs and individual movements within play out like scenes in a movie, each with their own building tensions and climaxes. Intro song Vicarious Atonement is the Crypt Keeper telling you what's in store for tonight. Songs like "Tetragrammaton" and "Day of the Baphomets" feel like they could end multiple times before they explode back into action.
It all feels like meticulously-controlled chaos, bombastic as possible yet textural and layered. Even "Viscera Eyes," which features their most point-blank, RATM-channeling pentatonic riff, bisects into a vulnerable, soaring outro coda. Listening to Amputechture isn't unlike watching a David Lynch film by yourself at 3 am with the lights off. It's unsettling, at times beautiful, abstract but always fascinating.
While it never climbed the heights of critical or commercial success that its two predecessors did, I'll always revere this bizarre, jagged, "autistic child" of a record as my personal favorite album from one of the most respectable and daring discographies in modern rock history.
Amputechture is available for purchase on vinyl directly from the label at the link below, and on all major streaming platforms.
https://us.cloudshillshop.com/products/the-mars-volta-amputechture-2lp
#The Mars Volta#Amputechture#music on vinyl#Clouds Hill#progressive rock#at the drive in#alternative rock
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This week on Great Albums, we talk about something a little more recent, but still old enough to be a classic. Can you believe that John Maus’s We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves, is turning ten years old already? Yes, 2011 was that long ago...and so were my high school years. Come check out this lo-fi synthwave masterpiece! Transcript below the break.
Welcome to Passionate Reply, and welcome to Great Albums! So far in this series, we’ve looked at a lot of older albums, and that’s by design. While I listen to, and love, plenty of more recent music and younger artists, I’ve decided to focus Great Albums on works that are at least ten years old. That’s partly because I think that having some distance from when albums were released lets us situate them in fuller context, and take their legacy into consideration. It’s also partly because so much of the music criticism that’s out there is focused, somewhat myopically, on only the newest and hottest releases, when there’s so much amazing music to be discovered outside of that purview.
Now that that’s out of the way, let’s get on to discussing today’s album: John Maus’s We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves, which was released in 2011, one decade prior to this video. It’s an album that was very significant to me as a teenager, when it was new, and one that I think will go on to be seen as one of the most important electronic albums of this decade.
Before releasing his arguable magnum opus, John Maus had two LPs under his belt, Songs and Love Is Real. They earned him some cult followers, but also attracted substantial derision and disdain. While many elements of Maus’s signature sound are present, such as lo-fi production, atmospheric washes of synth, and lyrics that straddle the line between pithy and biting, I’d characterize these releases as being very...rough around the edges.
Music: “Too Much Money”
“Too Much Money,” off of Love Is Real, is tantalizingly close to a pop song, but its truly shocking bridge seems almost deliberately crafted to shatter our ability to enjoy it as such. Maus had initially set out to be an experimental, outsider musician, but he soon became more interested in the tradition of pop, particularly after meeting his longtime friend and artistic collaborator, Ariel Pink. It was in that pop spirit that Maus created We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves, and the resultant increase in accessibility is what made his third album so different--and so much more successful. There’s a certain charm that only comes from an outsider attempting to do pop, a fusion of intuitive mass appeal, and an intuitive, unschooled process of creation. This album has that in abundance.
Music: “Hey Moon”
While “Hey Moon” is one of Maus’s best-known tracks, it’s actually a cover, and was originally penned by singer-songwriter Molly Nilsson. It’s a very simple, and very pop, composition, and it’s easy to see how it embodies the sort of straightforward songwriting Maus had in the back of his mind while creating the album. But it fundamentally lacks the signature oddness of Maus, and I think that leaves it as the least interesting track here. With everything else going on, “Hey Moon” feels all the more plain and banal in comparison.
Music: “...And the Rain”
Listening to “...And the Rain,” it’s easy to hear how strongly Maus was also influenced by Classical and Medieval composers. Besides those organ-like synth textures, Maus is also inspired by the Medieval modes, and pre-tonal ideas about melody. Whenever contemporary music uses slightly older synthesiser technology, and/or that lo-fi production, many people become preoccupied with using ideas of 80s nostalgia and retro chic to understand it. I think this album has less to do with “old school cool” and more to do with the spectre of the past as something faded and ineffable, accessible only through the dim consolations of memory. Consider “Quantum Leap,” which presents us with a hazy dream of time travel, contrasted with the “dead zone” of the present.
Music: “Quantum Leap”
In “Quantum Leap”’s more strident moments, I like to think that a whiff of the in-your-face abrasiveness of “Too Much Money” remains. But rather than scornful and vitriolic, it comes across as the overwhelming splendour of divine mystery, thanks to its appropriation of Medieval church music. There are many antecedents of what Maus is doing with it, from the tradition of goth to the work of other electronic musicians like John Foxx, but what Maus really excels at is weaving together the sacred and the profane, and getting us to forget which is supposed to be which. For a more splendid example of that, look no further than “Matter of Fact”:
Music: “Matter of Fact”
Yes, you heard that correctly--this song’s only lyrics are, “pussy is not a matter of fact.” I’m tempted to compare this laconic number to some of Maus’s earlier pieces that seem to satirize easily spouted slogans of social change, such as “Rights For Gays.” The core assertion here could be interpreted as a rebuttal of essentialism with regards to gender and sex, or perhaps of toxic masculinity, and the idea of a man feeling entitled to a woman’s body and sexuality. But its ambiguity, and possible meaninglessness, are, I think, part of what makes it so effective. Still, as far as transgressive lyricism goes, the use of the term “pussy” here pales in comparison to the preceding track, “Cop Killer.”
Music: “Cop Killer”
Maus has described himself as extremely left-wing, but he’s also consistently maintained that his music isn’t meant to be interpreted through a strictly political lens. But however much Maus insists that “Cop Killer” is “really” about metaphorical cops, its seemingly blatant call for violence feels obscene. Ten years ago, “Cop Killer” was shock art, and an expression of the unsayable. But in the past year, more and more people have opened up to criticism of police brutality, and police as an institution. “Cop Killer” has been re-evaluated and re-contextualized, and interest in the track has surged. It’s had a degree of vindication that most provocative and challenging art will never see, no matter how powerful.
Given Maus’s frequent emphasis on ideas of criminality, justice, and the punitive arm of the government, I’m tempted to interpret the lighthouse featured on the cover of We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves as a reference to the “panopticon” prisons designed by the Enlightenment thinker Jeremy Bentham. Bentham proposed prisons, and other state buildings, in which a single observation tower stood watch over people to be controlled. Prisoners cannot tell when, and if, they are being observed, and thus are forced to live as though they are under constant surveillance, and internalize the structures of social control. The panopticon has often been used as a symbol of how structures of discipline and punishment affect the psyche of those who live within them, most famously by the 20th Century philosopher Michel Foucault.
But this is, of course, me using political theory to try and pin Maus down! We can also set this aside and appreciate the cover design for its aesthetic ambiance. Its fog and tumultuous sea evoke the wild or unrefined qualities of the music, but the bright and piercing light of the lighthouse suggest a firm and directed focus, not unlike Maus’s stated goal of creating bona fide pop.
The album’s ponderous title doesn’t actually appear on the associated artwork. This isn’t so uncommon nowadays, but when physical media was more central to music consumption, it was a self-sabotaging move that few but New Order ever got away with. Maus was one of the first artists I became aware of who chose to omit text from album art, and it struck me as a very bold and forward-thinking adaptation to an increasingly digital world. Maus nicked the title “We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves” from the work of the philosopher Alain Badou, under whom he studied at university. Like that piercing ray of light, it seems to suggest a pruning away of impurities, and a recalibration or refocusing of one’s energies. It applies equally well to the idea of becoming sanctified or purified in the presence of the holy, or, more prosaically, to Maus’s newly pop-oriented artistic direction.
After the success of We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves, Maus’s follow-up was, essentially, the 2012 compilation, A Collection of Rarities and Previously Unreleased Material, which featured assorted tracks he had written throughout the preceding decade. Over the next few years, Maus chose to isolate himself from the public eye, claiming to not see himself continuing a career in music, and instead pursuing a Ph.D. in political science. He eventually returned, however, and released a fourth LP in 2017, entitled Screen Memories. Screen Memories would continue the focus on hooky and accessible melodies, while also increasing the use of guitar and bass to bring Maus’s sound a bit closer to rock.
Music: “Touchdown”
While Maus hasn’t put down any new material since Screen Memories, he has made himself substantially more notorious quite recently, by having been present at the attempted coup at the United States Capitol Building in January of 2021. Given Maus’s aforementioned radical leftism, and his cryptic, but seemingly anti-fascist oriented tweets afterward, it seems unlikely that Maus actually supported the insurrection, but the incident continues to cast a shadow over his reputation, at least for the time being. Whether Maus is ever truly rehabilitated or not, and wherever his true intentions and sympathies lay, his music has certainly left an indelible mark. We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves was a watershed moment for this idea of lo-fi, electronic pop, with a gothic and mysterious aura to it, and I don’t think this sound would be so commonplace in today’s musical landscape without what John Maus had accomplished, ten years ago.
My favourite track on We Must Become the Pitiless Censors of Ourselves is “Head For the Country.” Its stirring and anthemic refrain is one of the most emotionally powerful moments on the album, particularly when juxtaposed with its lyrical themes of feeling confined by society’s rules, and its return to the idea of criminality or deviance. It's probably too intense and overbearing to ever pass for an ordinary pop hit...but who’s keeping score? That’s everything for today--thanks for listening!
Music: “Head For the Country”
#music#great albums#album review#album reviews#synthwave#lo fi#lo-fi#john maus#indie#indie pop#indietronica
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