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foreverinthepagesofhistory · 7 months

Note

Been working on this for quite a bit and even ended up changing some things. This is really where the plot thickens and we get into all the government and fun aspects very soon! I feel like this chapter is done slightly different than the others but it just might be me that sees that. I hope you enjoy and as always much love. It is a longer than most so take your time as needed. Again just as a reminder, this is a work of fiction with the purpose of entertaining. 🫡❤️

The footsepts were frantic, the voice alarmed. King Cyril, ever the calm resourceful man flew down the palace steps, his eyes wide with pain and confusion.

“Peter!! Stop!! You don’t know what you’ve just done boy!” He yelled out, making his way into the cold wet and bitter volograd weather, rain pelting the man from head to toe. Mud squished under the weight of his leather boots.

The crown prince halted, his back rigid, his pale hand on the car door. His suitcase in hand. Anger welled deep in his eyes, and the boy began to tremble. Both from the cold and the feeling of disappointment that rotted in his veins.

The blonde boy simply watched his fathers features in the car window, watching his pinched brows and the desperation in his eyes. He looked hurt, heartbroken. A deep sense of satisfaction filled Peters chest, and he turned to his father.

Droplets of rain trickled down his cheeks like race cars.

“I believe I’ve just done this country a favor papa”.

King Cyril remained still, this time his eyes closing, trying to find the words.

“You don’t know what you’ve done”.

Again those words. Peter scoffed, his lips upturned into a victorious smile. “No papa. I believe I do know what I’ve just done!! And one day I suppose you’ll thank me for it”.

The king remained still, watching his eldest son shrug off his hand, eye him with such hatred that it seemed to make a permanent hole in his heart. A deep gnash that no matter how many years would pass would fester and fester.

In an act of desperation the king reached out, catching petter by his suit, the king was never an emotional man, never had he shed a tear in front of his children. It was volograd motto to never cry. “Volograd kings do not cry” he could still hear his father tell him. But now realization gripped him.

“Peter….you are my son. My eldest son. I’ve loved you since your first breathe. You were born to rule this great land, to become a great man…I-“ the king stuttered.

“I realize I hurt you in more ways than one. I realize I didn’t take into account your feelings and thoughts. I realize you feel unwanted. Unloved. But what you have to understand is every one of the kings before us felt as you did my dear boy”.

Pale white knuckles tightened against the car door handle, Peter’s stature still rigid as ever.

“When I first came of age the court laughed at me. Snickered like school children. The old men of parliament would stare down at me through their long noses and would gawk at me. My own father would shut down any thoughts or opinions I had on even the simplest matter. I understand the great chaos you are feeling. But-but I cannot stop you. I-will not”.

The king eyed the sky, the way the clouds looked over the land, dark and black, and he wondered if this moment would change the course of everything. He wondered if this decision would affect everyone. By letting Peter go. By letting him win.

He could by any means drag the boy back to his room, lock him in. Make him king, eventually. What would that bring? A weak feeble king with no back bone, no real essence of duty. No deep abiding love.

Images of Peter as a young boy came to mind. His bright smile and kind blue eyes peeking out from behind the palace walls. Peter standing next to his side as he was proclaimed king. The way Peter’s eyes had looked troubled. Like he knew just how it all would end.

“The crown always finds its way to the right head Cyril. Always”. The words of the kings grandfather played in his head.

Now as King Cyril eyed his son, his blank face, his cold smile did he realize. All this time the crown was not meant for him.

The king allowed his hand to fall away from Peter’s suit.

“I hope you realize just what you’re doing” were his words. “This decision could end in catastrophe. You could brave this storm son…you could try again”.

At the words Peter scoffed, turning, his eyes ablaze with fury. “There is nothing in the world that would make me brave this storm papa. You-you constantly belittle me! Ever since I was a young boy! I see how you eye me at events. How you hang your head, how dissatisfied you are. Oh poor Peter and his weak constitution! Did it ever occur to you that I am not the one destined to reign?? Do not pity me papa…pity her”.

As soon as the words floated out the king gulped. His words bold and loud.

“Leave your sister out of this. This is none of her concern-“

“It is her concern!!! Who else do you think will take my place?? You didn’t think I noticed?? You’ve always preferred Alix over me! Ever since I can remember! You’ve always praised her on every single thing she’s done!!”.

The king held his tongue. He wanted to rebuke, to rebuttal. But the words were truthful.

“I never meant to show favoritism Peter! You must know that. Your sister and I share many passions, she’s so very much like me. Whereas you-you’re like your mother. In every way. You’re shy and closed off. It’s hard for me to reach you.”.

Peter only shook his head, droplets falling off and hitting the palace grounds.

“You never tried!! Never!! You sent me off to wilderness camp that one year! Knowing I had told you I wanted to stay with you! I was twelve papa! Twelve! Alix got to stay with you that whole summer!! How is that even remotely fair! Perhaps I never realized how twisted and toxic this whole family really is. How twisted you are. I am going papa…I am going to make a life for myself. Far away from here. From you. From the duty of the crown. I will make my formal announcement after break and then I will be gone”.

“What about your sister?”.

The words made Peter halt. His chest moving with laborious breathes.

“What of her?”.

“You’ll kill her like this Peter. If she knew what your plan was she would be here begging you now to reconsider”.

Images of his sister and him climbing trees came to view. Hot summer days, having just escaped the governess. His sisters wide grin. Days where nothing changed.

Cold blue eyes peered over to his right, where the tree stood, rooted to the ground. Rain soiling over the leaves.

“Alix will understand. As she always has. Besides she’s got more on her mind than me. I have no doubt she will do better. As always I remain an afterthought for this family”.

The king didn’t bother to stop his son from getting into the car, the sound of the tires sloshing as the car zoomed past the palace gates and into the cold dark night.

***********************************************

Alix was restless. Far more restless than she had been upon arriving. Her and Peter had remained radio silent, no new words spoken between them. It was all for the best she reasoned with herself. After all this was not her burden to carry, so why did she feel it the most now?

Calm Jade eyes watched the ceiling as she laid in bed, covers strewn up all the way to her chin, where the princess laid her hands down straight, looking more like a body in a coffin than a person that was comfortable.

Her thoughts seemed to race a mile a minute. From her brother and his cold eyes to the words said, how he had meant them. The way his eyes had eyed her as she stepped out of the car, forlorn and angry. She wondered if he went back home, spoke to their father about her “ridiculous” behavior. If he somehow was conspiring some childish way to get her back.

Anxiety only bloomed in her stomach as she thought of all this. Sighing deeply Alix got up, putting her slippers on and exiting the quiet room that Leonor had set up herself. She had been so proud, even going so far as asking if Alix required anything else.

The halls of the princes pavilion remained calm and quiet, cascading in the dark Spanish night. Alix made her way to the kitchen where she pulled a glass from the cupboard and filled the cup to the brim. Lifting the glass to her lips she gulped it down, wiping the framing drops from her lips before settling the cup in the sink.

Her green jade eyes watched as the study across the hall remained open, and curiosity got the better of her. She was halfway there when she heard the voice, soft and calm.

“I see the vologarian princess is a night owl…quite like your father back in the days when I use to board with him. Please don’t be shy, I wouldn’t mind the company. It can get a bit lonesome. That is why I have Jan with me..he is a quiet companion is he not?”

Alix entered the study, taking in all the books that lined the shelf and the many nick nacks that Felipe had acquired. As Felipe stated the calm black lab lay beneath Felipe’s feat, his tail wagging as Alix neared.

“I’m sorry to have disturbed you your majesty..the light was on and I couldn’t sleep” the green eyed girl began, mouth open in protest when the grey haired king smiled, softly and so much like Leonor that Alix found herself even more fond of the man.

“Oh sweetheart! I couldn’t care the faintest bit about all that! Would you like Letizia to make you a cup of tea? She’s in her study as well just across the hall, I’m afraid a job like ours leaves us night owls as well”.

Though the offering was tempting, Alix declined.

“I don’t think my stomach could handle any more liquid sir”.

The king chuckled at the joke before his blue eyes analyzed Anni. A deep expression on his face, “I hope you don’t find my question prying in any way. I just-noticed that during dinner you seemed…quiet. Leonor even thought so”.

Alix eyed the patterns of carpentry on the floor, watching all the individual threads before looking up at Felipe. All trusting eyes and kind smile.

“I’m just-suffering with my thoughts is all sir. I thank you for your question, though I believe this a family affair that I am sure my family would not want aired”.

The king simply nodded, “of course dear. Just remember I am always here to lend an ear..and Leonor as well. I believe I saw herjust a few minutes ago go into your room”.

A blush overtook Alix’s face and she only watched as Felipe laughed, “Leonor does not have a rebellious bone in her body, but I believe you bring out just enough in her. Go on. Just tell her to be back in her bed by 2”.

Alix eyed the clock. That was an hour till now. Thanking the king again and padding her way back to her room she was surprised to find Leonor splayed across her bed, pajamas on and hair wild as she snored.

Alix couldn’t help but giggle, she hadn’t been in Felipe’s study for more than five minutes and Leonor had fallen asleep in such a short time.

Alix made her way to the bed, moving to glide her finger across Leonor’s sleeping form. Taking the time to process her features to memory. Her blonde lashes which glowed in the dim light of the lamp.

Her golden curls that curled at her shoulders.

“Usually when someone is staring at me it’s usually Sofia upset because I happen to turn in my sleep” came the croaky yet beautiful voice.

Alix didn’t avert her eyes, only continued to watch as Leonor rubbed her tired eyes.

“I hope you’re not disobeying your fathers rules by being here with me. I would hate for you to get in trouble, I would also hate for your father or mother to think me crude” the green eyed girl began, watching as Leonor’s fingers grasped her own. The warmth of her fingers sending her heart rate spiking.

Soft baby blue eyes met her own and leonor shook her head, eyes rolling in amusement. “I asked my father at dinner if I could accompany you for a midnight talk. I noticed you were a little quiet at dinner and I-I was worried was all”.

Alix watched as Leonor eyed her, concern laced in her blue hues. Confusion filled her features and she halted.

“It’s just..Peter and I had a spat on the way over and I-I told him to go home. Words were said that cannot be unsaid and now I-now I’m not so sure he’ll forgive me. Or I him”.

Perhaps it was they way Leonor was in front of her now, eyes soft and filled to the brim with adoration.

“Well I cannot speak for Peter, but I believe you love him a great deal. I don’t wish to pry ever…but if you feel the need to vent I am your humble servant”.

Alix watched with her heart clenched in her chest, her stomach in knots as Leonor lifted her fingers to her lips, kissing her bruised knuckles, on account of the fencing gloves being too tight.

Maybe it was the already emotional doom that settled over Alix, but she could feel her heart clench in the most imposing and delicate way at Leonor’s touch. Every movement well thought out.

Alix could feel it in the hollow of her bones, could feel it in the way her heart always would skip a beat whoever Leonor would enter the room. That deep and soul earth shattering love.

She had never truly loved anyone this much, this need, a yearning that lived in her bones, in her heart. This dire need to feel Leonor’s fingers against hers, to feel her soft blonde curls. To rest her forehead against the girls.

It was at that moment, with Leonor’s hands grasping hers, so soft, so gentle, like the whole world could shatter and Leonor wouldn’t ever blink.

The words came out like a freight train, fast and fueld by the ever increasing fire and devotion that had first started that one dinner. When Alix had looked into Leonor’s eyes and something within her had stated, so plainy, so calmly, so prominently, ‘She’s the one’. It wasn’t like the whole earth had stopped like some historians say, or great philosophers wrote about in books of old.

It was looking into Leonor’s eyes and having that realization, the soft yet loud, it’s you. It’s always been you.

Leonor’s soft touch brought Alix out of her thoughts, the soft sensation of Leonor’s fingers tracing the apples of her cheeks, the calm familiar smile that nestled in Leonor’s eyes.

“Having a bit of the moment there were you? All good things I hope?”. The sly smile that made its way onto Leonor’s face was the breaking point. The last self restraint on the confession train. Befire Alix could stop herself she was speaking, green eyes overcome with great emotion and her voice shaky.

Leonor now noticing brought her fingers to cup Alix’s cheeks delicately, her eyes laced with concern and something else that Alix could no longer decipher.

“Oh mi corazòn” Leonor purred, moving to speak but Alix stopped her. Grasohing her hand and holding it in her hand, tightly.

All her life Alix had her brother. A built in play mate at birth, a built in best friend, protector, partner in crime. All the memories of childhood seem to taunt her now, made the bitter realization that her and Peter would never have the same relationship ever again. Never would she feel that calm feeling of normality.

Expect now. I’m the presence of the very woman she would gladly give her heart too, to drop to her knees and provide anything Leonor asked. Even entertaining the thought of renouncing her own title as daughter of the monarch. All for just one glance of that sweet melodic smile.

“Leonor…I come here with no expectations, only to profess, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is and always will be… yours."

“I fear my heart has been willingly taken captive by your heart, it’s sweet and kind song whispers to my own. It heals and mends my wounds as best as it can…and I say now, in just the presence of us in this very room…I desire to never be parted from you. I wish to be your side for as long as you will have me because I-I love you. "I look at you and see the rest of my life in front of my eyes.”

The room stayed quiet, only the sound of the comforting rain outside to reach Alix’s ear. Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest, the blood rushing through her ears in an act of nervousness. ‘You fool!’ Her brain roared at her, ‘she’s not saying anything because your just a passing romance’

Peter’s words echoed in her head, and Alix could feel the all to familiar signs of her panic attack coming on. Her breathing getting heavy and her chest aching.

That all halted the minute Leonor’s lips upturned into a soft smile, her eyes glossed over with unshed tears. A few tears prickled out of her eyes, racing down to her chin. Sweet happy tears that made Alix chest ease.

In an instant Leonor was in front of her, a hairs breathe way. Their breathes mingling together. All it took was Leonor pressing her lips against Alix’s and it was like Alix could breathe again.

She drank in the feel of Leonor’s lips on her own, the soft familiar sensation filling her with love and warmth. Leonor deepened the kiss, pulling on Alix’s pajamas and breathing through her nose to prolong it.

Every sensation was like a drug; from the way Leonor’s lips were soft and inviting, warm and gentle, never invading or threatening. They spoke of soft days together and dances in front of the fireplace. Of great devotion.

With one last kiss that made Alix a little more excited than she ever had been Leonor parted their lips, her chest heaving and forehead resting against Alix’s.

Both girls didn’t say much, only eyed each other with words unsaid.

Until Leonor did speak; this time in her native tongue; sending waves of surprise and some how the deepest connection to Alix’s heart.

“Te quiero no solo por cómo eres, sino por cómo soy yo cuando estoy contigo.”

Suddenly the years of taking Spanish and dreading the governess and her Castilian accent seemed to prove a worthy, and Alix thanked the gods for allowing her to be able to listen to such beauty. ‘I love you not only because of the way you are, but because of the way I am when I am with you’.

Alix could only smile, that bright and enchanting smile that Leonor knew could shatter or build her world.

A soft rattling on the door tore the two from there comforting little moment and Felipe popped his head in, a soft smile on his features as he eyed both girls, taking notice of the way both girls seemed intertwined.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news but is half past 2. I believe our beloved guest and your girlfriend would dearly love to rest her head.”

Leonor nodded to her father, and the king wished both girls a good night before departing.

Once the door closed Leonor got up from the bed, her eyes holding so much self restraint.

“I should be getting to bed. Sofia will be wondering where I got of to. She can’t sleep unless I am near”.

The confession made Alix smile, she had never had a sister and she wished she had. For moments like that.

Leonor moved to leave a final soft kiss against Alix’s lips, muttering a soft and barley audible, “I love you too” before she was gone and out the door. Her sweet smile the last thing Alix saw.

**********************************************

The king watched as Prime minister Havel greeted him, his eyes anxious and voice gravely.

“If what I heard is true…rumors are circulating around the palace. Your majesty…say it is not true”.

The king sat at his desk; his eyes focused on the golden frame that lined his desk. The picture taken so long ago when both Alix and Peter were children, all smiling faces and innocent faces.

The king moved his cold eyes to the prime minister.

“The worst has already happened prime minister. In about an hour when you go back to your office you’ll find a parcel waiting for you. Inside the parcel is a signed document of Crown Prince Peters rejection to the throne. He signed it hours ago. Prince Peter is no longer the crown prince of this country, he is renouncing all ties and claims. I ask this be the utmost secret between us Havel” the urgency in the kings voice was grave and he eyed the prime minister with trusting eyes.

Mr Havel blinked, thoughts rushing back to Alix. Oh the poor girl. Thrust into a position that she was never born for, nor trained.

“You have my word your majesty. This will not leave this room as long as you have the say. I will say…what of Alix? What will you say?”.

The king sighed, for once looking as old as he felt with his eyebrows creased and signs of age on his face.

“She will understand. This is not the first time this has happened. She will adapt…and in time..she will give up her fight.”.

“She won’t give up the girl” the words were said rashly and Prime minister Havel eyes widened, in alarm and shock. “Please forgive me your majesty I spoke out of turn-“

The king held his hand up, eyes alight with realization.

“You voiced the same words I have been thinking. Alix will not give up Leonor…I know that. It will doubtless be a travesty. But I have hope that anything can be done. And I will make sure I go down trying to make this the first marriage in the history of all royal history work. My daughter will not live a life she does not want. As for the news…the vologarian public need not know for now. Peter will be doing his last engagement next week, where he will then give his speech and then and only then will I tell Alix. I cannot afford her to think anything is wrong”.

Mr Havel nodded, “excellent idea your majesty”.

“I can only hope we are making the correct choice”.

I honestly feel like this is going well. Alix is finally happy and Peter has to ruin it all by running away. What are brothers for? 😂😂 I honestly do hope you enjoyed this. I had such fun writing it! I think the love confession was definitely the hardest bit I have ever written, so apologies if it is lacking. The first qoute Alix speaks is from Jane Austen, I was going to have Leonor state, “did you just quote Jane Austen to me?” But I wanted it to be more serious.I hope I conveyed just how much Alix relies on Leonor, how she’s a source of strength and well as a companion. Leonor did however notice the jane Austen quote, I however didn’t mention it. As always feedback is welcomed!! I honestly was like I wonder what she will think of this chapter when I was writing it😂 definitely a daring chapter. Dare I say crown worthy? 🤭🫡-🇪🇸

oh my literal freaking god. Words cannot describe my feelings for this chapter. This is the perfect turning point for where the story is going and I just love this chapter so, SO much. 🥹😭🌸❤️‍🩹✨🤍

Also I’m reading this while in the car with my mom and Indigo Girls songs were just blasting over the radio so the atmosphere was just perfection lol 💕✨

Keep up the GREAT AMAZING SPECTACULAR work and I look for ward to seeing the next chapter!!! 😭🥹🤍

#answered ask #whispers of the crown #wotc #leonalix #Leonalix fic

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redpiperfox · 1 year

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Cheshire Album listen-thru~~

I would have liked to do this earlier. I have been thoroughly listening through the album, but it came out during finals week, and I had to put this off because of that, and then it just reminded me finals to think about doing this for a while so--

I have been enjoying the album on my own. But I’ve only just worked up the energy to be able to do this (see my other essay on Cheshire thanks to Mera), and now you all must suffer the energy of me being absolutely Insane about this album, because thanks to Sunny, I am Off-The-Walls-Crazy about this album.

Cheshire: What a track! What a title track! This is hypnotizing, sitting with Maleficent at the chessboard, playing politics with the queen over tea, and dancing in a ballroom poised on the edge of battle with all the cards in your hands. This track has the girls on the outside of the status quo, peeking in and out of a serious plot with airy power they can flaunt if they want, but instead they hide under sly smiles. This track is everything.

From the moment “La-la-la~” came out, I knew we had a hit. This wasn’t the ungrounded base beat of Sneakers with the floating “Ye! Ye!” flying with no support, this wasn’t the teasing fresh beats from the debut trilogy, or the teasing opening lines of the previous costume-changing Itzy. This Itzy came out of the gate with layered vocals, fresh sounds with their classic powerhouse beat. And their voices, oh sweet heaven, their voices! Not a single line felt anything short of tailored for the member it was given to. The staircase-falling sound motif in the chorus provided just enough mystery, and the pitched up choir in the back providing the depth to an Itzy track that tells us this group is maturing and moving up. Harmonies! Members singing with each other! And in their range!

The core of this is subtlety. From the building of the track, to the music video, to the dance itself. There are less huge movement, more little movements of incredible complexity. Everything is in the details, and the details are bedazzling! The video itself grew in how stunning it was the more I watched it, and I can attribute a lot of my awe to Jordan Orme and his analysis of it.

Lyrically, I see we are comfortably in the identity era, and we’ve returned back to our debut era of being in-your-face, and still not as complex. But I’ll take my victories-- perhaps lyrical complexity is the place they aim to grow... or perhaps not. Perhaps being blaringly obvious about identity and what they want to do and sticking it to people who tell them otherwise will be the think Itzy carry with them as their group identity. Who knows! It’ll be interesting to watch...

Personally, this track feels like the product of ten months (next to the japanese titles, those are gold). Had the company not been planning the english release for when they had, and maybe tried to preempt it with Sneakers... or maybe if they hadn’t decided on using Mama as their comeback stage... (what a power move, by the way! SkzItzy were unashamed of owning those stages, and we love them for that.) I can muse about Sneakers being the b-side track of the century, and not stealing time and money from Cheshire, and I can muse about how much well-deserved traction Cheshire could have gotten on it’s own two feet after their little break... I could, but I won’t. This is the title track of queens, and you can feel every bit of their growth in this track, and their confidence in who they are. I hope the company doesn’t get cold feet like they did with Twice after I Can’t Stop Me and Cry For Me (I loved Talk That Talk don’t come after me) and see this evolution to it’s end!

Snowy: Here’s a halloween witch, waving the hypnotizing watch in front of your face, and transforming into a cat that leaps into the snow and laughs back at you with the little “Nyan-nah-nan-nah-nah-nah’s.” A fantasy power character dancing along the edge, with the power to mold the plot to her favor, but instead throwing in cryptic words of wisdom for the character to grapple the whole journey and realize they could’ve finished much earlier. This song, is the real Cheshire.

Also, let’s talk about classical music sampling done right. The sister the chorus trickled down, I was in love. My sister had it on loop. I didn’t know why until my sister figured it out-- Fur Elise melody sampling. Brilliant. And highly effective. Hats off to the lyricism for stepping towards immersive, descriptive languages that shows and doesn’t just tell me what it’s trying to convey. The members are in a comfortable range, and they own their lines-- it’s every bit a beautiful b-side to be promoted and showcase their abilties. Top notch, love it!

Freaky: What a chill bop. It’s the mood of walking the streets while Christmas shopping, two weeks before, when there’s no pressure or rush, just hanging out with your friends in the soft glow and twinkling of Christmas decor. It’s got a a cozy, by the fireplace playing games feel, steeped in all the character and sass of Itzy in Ryujin and Yuna, with the easy confidence of Yeji, Lia, and Chaeryeong’s voices. Throw in some casual vocal runs, teetering on the edge of jazzy bounces, unseriously tinkering around.

I have to say though, I am surprised as how contrasting the actual content of the lyrics are. How very Han Jisung of this song. I know they didn’t write it, but it’s got a maturity in lyric writing, in description and emotion, that I really love. It feels a little like 3racha lyricism, and no, that’s not me willing a collab into the universe.

Boys Like You: This is a sophomore year of high school romance. Singing from the window into a hairdryer, laughing with your friends over the love-blind days. It’s very cute.

I get it. Sure, it sounds like Taylor Swift in the chorus, but other than that? I like the stamp of independence, confidence, and girl crushness in pop. My first thought was “Why are they trying Twice with Itzy?” but this isn’t a Twice track. It’s an expansion of Itzy. I support experimenting. It experimented better than Sneakers anyway. Also, Chaeryeong high note!!! What a win! And Lia fits this song like a glove, like she fits covering Taylor Swift songs. (Speaking of which, more please? Can I get them to cover I Know Places? Please? No? Okay sorry--)

The music video is so so cute, I love the style, and how it’s not as bold, but leans into the small sideplot, storybook, scrap-booked horror in a journal. Their outfits were cute, the acting was cute, it was all very cute.

....but I hope they don’t bring it to their Korean and Japanese titles, with all due respect. Sorry girlies!

All in all? Very solid mini album, not one throwaway song to be found. It’s a crying shame they couldn’t have started their tour with this under their belt, but ah well, c’est la vie, we can’t everything I suppose.

However, I think it would be a shame to pass up this opportunity to speculate what a gorgeous and cohesive album Checkmate and Cheshire would have been together. @the-sunshine-dragon and I went through both mini albums and put together, with much careful thought and consideration, what we believe would have been a solid full album, Checkshire.

But regardless, what we do have, is the growth of an iconic group, that absolutely has my attention. Anywho, would love to talk and discuss with people~

#Red's album dissections #Album Listen-Through #itzy cheshire #Red's personal sitcom #an open invitation to talk to meeeee #Youtube #red's album listen-thrus

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thisamericanlush · 1 year

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Top Movies of 2022

My thoughts on my top 3 new movies of this year. I've missed a lot and there are others that I saw and loved (Mad God, for instance, is incredible), but these 3 really hit the spot for why I go to the movies.

3. Nope - Jordan Peele

Sci-fi and horror, two great tastes that taste great together. Movies love to be about movies and for good reason. Peele invites us to observe the world he makes, insisting that observation is consumption and consumption is destruction. Daniel Kaluuya and Keke Palmer deliver perfect sibling dynamics, living in the love and frustration of people who have known each other forever dealing with everyday and otherworldly tragedies. Yeun is given only a few scenes, but his monologue about the defining event of his life is delivered masterfully and serves as a warning to our protagonists about the dangers of their business, even if the character delivering it can't see it.

2. Jackass Forever - Jeff Tremaine

America's greatest living showman, Johnny Knoxville, assembles his crew 12 years after their last outing. Some faces are missing and new faces are brought in, but the formula remains as potent as ever. Jackass has always been a sadomasochistic, sensual love letter to the body's resilience, and that is felt even more seeing the faces we know show their age. Knoxville is of course king of the crew, and he holds the crown by being willing to take as hard of hits as anyone else. He's just as happy (if not more so) to laugh at his own suffering as his crew mates', pushing aging bodies to their limits and bringing in new faces to carry the torch. Of the old crew, Danger Ehren shines brightest, enduring some of the harshest torture for our pleasure. And newcomer Rachel Wolfson is a charmer every second she's on screen. A swan song, victory lap, and rebirth all at once, Jackass Forever is proof that a movie doesn't need a plot to be perfect cinema.

1. Crimes of the Future - David Cronenberg

The person who gave me the most hope about humanity's ability to survive the climate crisis died this year. She was my friend, fiercely intelligent, endlessly clever, and maybe the funniest person I'll ever know. I don't know if she ever saw Crimes of the Future but it makes me think of her. 79 year old David Cronenberg returned to body horror this year to show us the future we're barreling towards: a ruined environment, people anaesthetized, trying to survive and find meaning in the new when the old bits of joy just don't work anymore. This exploration comes via Vigo Mortensen's Saul Tenser, an uncomfortable artist who has surgery as performance art when he isn't being catty about other artists and shifting around uncomfortably. Tenser and his partner Caprice, played by Léa Seydoux, use his bodies adaptations to our ruined planet to explore humanity, even as outside forces try to regulate Tenser and his ilk and deny their right to exist. The climate change aspects are at the front and center of the film but as the hostilities towards trans people by right wing ghouls continue to ramp up it's hard not to feel that Crimes of the Future is as much about now as it is about later. As gross as it is tender and hopeful, Cronenberg's latest shines the future in our face, inviting you to find and love pockets of warmth as the world grows cold.

#nope #jordan peele #jackass forever #jeff tremaine #crimes of the future #david cronenberg #2022 films

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omiscurls · 2 years

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Heyy there :) can i req a part 2 of 'Consequences' with Thoma, Xingqiu and Gorou? feel free to decline tho! and also, one more thing, sometimes my asks doesnt send so pls let me know if this does get to u :D

consequences (2)

plot: the reader decides to break up with the character after not speaking to them

contains: tohma, xingqiu, kaeya

here's part (1) with diluc, zhongli and tartaglia

warnings: angst, breakups, implied past toxic behavior, implied use of alcohol

a/n: i'm sorry i can't do gorou's personality yet </3

tohma

one more day was passing by that he couldn't even begin to focus on his chores and assignments. trying hard to just make little steps and focus on here and now, his mind kept betraying him and going back to that night when the both of you got really wasted after celebrating the resistance's victory.

he was just so excited, and so enamored with the magic of the moment, of the warm night with fireworks shooting high up in the sky, with people dancing around to folk music, with smiles and cheers all around, with-

exactly. who was enamored with that night might've just been the reason he was in this place in the first place.

he looked at himself briefly in the mirror he was passing by, hung in one of the corridors of the kamisato estate, so long he used to get lost in them and worry he'd never be found again when he was younger.

he looked in the eyes of the blond-haired man, styled with his usual high ponytail he only did for cleaning, clothes wrinkled and scruffy, the eyes staring back at him being tired and lacking their natural shine.

"you idiot" he scoffed, lips pressing into a tight line. he wanted to quit looking and leave, yet he knew he deserved this silent screaming match with himself he was having.

you had everything you ever wanted. you made them like you, you made them smile, laugh, dance, cheer, you were really doing great. and you just had to fuck it up, didn't you?

he kept thinking and thinking, constantly finding new ways to insult the reflection he was seeing, but to his surprise, it stared back at him with nothing but indifference and coldness. was this the way he stared at you, too? was this really his face?

"tohma!" he heard a shout at the other end of the corridor, and lifted his gaze up instantly. a young boy was waving at him in order to catch his attention. "there's someone here to see you!"

he nodded, and began walking to the main entrance of the mansion, but what started by walking ended in a run towards the door, in fact, he ran so fast he barely managed to stop at the end.

could it be you? it had to be you.

"darling, it's you!" he grinned suddenly, walking up to you and wrapping you in the tightest of embraces. all of the sudden you felt out of place, like you forgot why you were here.

why were you here?

oh, right. to break up with him. right.

"tohma" you said way softer than intended, caught off guard by his sheer enthusiasm. he pulled away from you with eyes so hopeful yet so guilty, you were honestly surprised one person could manage having so many emotions at once. "could i talk to you in private?"

you walked for what seemed like an eternity to a slope located behind the estate. with the view of the ocean behind him and his bashful expression in front of you, you took a deep breath and began explaining as slowly as you could, not to get carried away with all the emotion.

"do you... by chance... remember what you said to me the other night?"

how could he ever think this was going to be a normal conversation? lying to himself really seemed to be one of his talents.

"i do" he mumbled, gaze falling to the ground. "i figured that's what you're here to discuss."

"honey-" you started before you realized you really shouldn't be this gentle with him "we have to discuss it, though. you told me you loved a person that's very much not me, and i'm your partner. how would i not discuss it with you?"

"i didn't mean it" he whispered "i was drunk"

you half chuckled, half scoffed.

"sure. everybody says that when their sober self has to deal with the consequences of their actions, but tohma, people rarely lie when it comes to love, you know?"

"but i really-" he tried to speak up, but words got uncomfortably stuck in his throat, causing it to hurt, his eyes watered, and suddenly he wasn't capable of forming a sentence.

"i would love nothing more than to believe you." you sighed "but something tells me i can't."

you looked him straight in the eyes with that aching expression and only then did he realize how badly he was hurting you by denying what he said. right, you must've been feeling like an idiot, listening to him defend himself.

"i- well, i- it's more complicated than just a simple word-" he started, and you turned your teary eyes away with a scoff, knowing the tears were about to spill, and when they would, they'd flow endlessly. "please look at me!" he raised his voice in desperation, hands flying to capture your cheeks and bring your face back in front of his, so he could try and soothe you with whatever apologetic smile he could muster.

"tohma" you stammered carefully, waging every word you were about to say, and before you did, you crafted the most positive smile you could. "she's amazing, i agree. and beautiful, and kind, and sweet, and everything you said about her, she's all of that. i just... i hope she'll make you happier than i did"

you took a step back, not letting the smile get off your face, watching as his expression turned dejected and crestfallen.

"at least let me make this right!" he tried to stop you, but you moved your arm away, beginning to walk back to where you came from.

"goodbye, honey."

xingqiu

if he were more aware of his surroundings he would have noticed that the house he lived in, normally loud and filled with action, went quiet. that servants stopped coming in asking if he needed anything, that no clients emerged to speak with him urgently, that not even his family seemed to be around. how long was he pacing back and forth in this dark room? who knows. the food on the plate someone had prepared for him was long cold, and the curtains weren't necessary to shield him from sunlight anymore, but other than that, he had no indications of time having passed.

his mind was focused on one thing and one thing only, and that was how much of a dick he had been to you a couple of nights before. it took him some sleep to realize, but he woke up with the guiltiest feeling and couldn't shake it ever since. how could he? honestly, how dared he speak to you that way?

a very similar thought seemed to have taken over your mind as well, as you walked through the silent house, being guided by an offly quiet servant, who told you at the very beginning that "master xingqiu isn't taking any visitors" and shut up that exact same moment.

he left you at your boyfriend's door, and you found yourself standing there, unable to knock and enter. this was a crucial moment, but before you could come to terms with that, the door opened right in front of you, and on the other side you found xingqiu, the man himself, in an attire you had never seen him in before, consisting of loose pants and a stained shirt, looking as if you just awoke him from a deep trans.

he called you by name, and you responded with the same, the both of you staring back at each other with similar shock painted all over your faces.

he cleared his throat.

"by all means, please, come in." he urged, stepping to the side and waving at you to enter, and so you did, though hesitantly.

the room was different than you remembered as well, it was dark and the air seemed tense. it was probably just the lighting, but well, there were reasons for the vibe to feel off.

"to what do i... to what do i owe the pleasure?" he tried really hard to be composed and civil, but as soon as you turned to him and shot him one of your deadly looks, his official tone and faux clueless were long gone.

"xingqiu, i- i don't consider myself a very delicate person. but i am, to my misery, fragile, when faced with bitterness from those i love. and frankly, you're part of that group. of the people i love. i do not enjoy having someone i love make fun of something he knows damn well" you made a pause to make your point painfully obvious "i'm insecure about. that's a shitty and fucked up thing to do and i hope you realize that, even if i was too... thrown off to tell you that right away. oh, and by all means, i'm hoping you even recall what i'm referring to, because you might as well have just forgotten all about it, right?"

"love, i-"

"this is the part when i talk, and you listen. i felt humiliated, and broken, and well, i felt my worst. because i trusted you to not pull anything like this on me when i told you how uncomfortable i was with the subject. but hey, i guess that that's on me for putting my trust in you. and now, not only have you betrayed said trust, you've broken my heart. i hope, i sure hope you're proud of yourself"

you took a break to catch your breath and examine xingqiu's reaction, and for the first time in quite the while, he felt as if he was about to cry.

"love" he started again, his trust in the power of his sweet talk never failing "i realize that i hurt you, i realized it the second i said it, i just... didn't know how to make it up to you right away. and i know i can't just say shit like that and then just expect you to forgive when i <make it up to you>, but trust me, i- i'm sarcastic, and mean, and i push people's boundaries too far, and sometimes i don't know where to stop, i know all this, i do, and obviously i'm aware this doesn't explain what i did, but-" he babbled, and babbled, and probably got lost in his own train of thought but you let him finish "but it was a mistake. i never wanted to make you feel small or humiliated, or broken, i just never realized the affect my thoughtless comments might have on someone. i'm sorry. i'm truly, deeply, sorry."

to be honest you were taken aback by the sheer sincerity of his words, and the frightened look on his face, but it only made you realize it wasn't a good sign that you were shocked by sincerity. you shouldn't be expecting lame excuses and lies.

"i'm glad" you said, and the faintest of smiles entered the corner of his mouth, in hope for a good verdict from you, because obviously, xinqiu never lost. "maybe you'll remember that for the next person that chooses to trust you, but i won't do it again."

wait. hold up.

this wasn't the way this was supposed to go at all. you were starting to leave, and xinqiu's mind started racing in all directions but the right one, as he searched for something, anything, to make you stay.

next person? there was no next person, you were it! how did you miss that? you were the one for him, how could he ever have some other person?

"this isn't right! wait!" he ran out to the hallway in chase after you, but you didn't seem want to look over at him. he rushed to get past you and stand in front of your face. "darling. love. please. this isn't how we're supposed to end!"

he got cold just from the way you looked at him.

"get out of my sight."

kaeya

ironically enough, he wasn’t at the tavern when you looked for him. you asked diluc if he saw him, but he shook his head.

“i’m not here all the time, but on the times i’ve been behind the counter this week, i haven’t seen him since... four days ago, i think” he answered, not stopping in his chores to answer your questions. “is everything alright, though?” he raised an eyebrow, examining your rather lost expression and constant checking of your surroundings.

“yes, of course” you lied swiftly, as one does when faced with a question like that, thanked him for his information and went on around the city.

so he wasn’t home, he wasn’t here, he wasn’t at the headquarters. where could he be? lost, you decided to take a walk around the city, one last search before the sun would set. and as you strolled the streets of mondstadt, slowly emptying before nighttime, on one key moment you looked up at the night sky, and noticed a figure sitting at the city walls. chuckling to yourself, mentally wondering why didn’t you consider this an option at first, you rushed towards the gate to the tower.

“hi” you announced yourself quietly upon reaching the top. kaeya turned around in a split second, eyes wide in surprise.

“love” he whispered in relief, lifting himself up swiftly to walk up to you. he reached out to grab your hand, but you moved it away just as quickly.

“kaeya.”

you could see the heartbreak in his eyes as you stated his name where once would be an overly sweet petname, as you started drifting away from him so evidently he could physically feel it.

“so” he sighed “i’m guessing we both know what you’re here for?” he looked away, as if embarrassed, and crossed his arms at chest level defensively. fuck, this hurt. you almost wanted to blame him for making this worse, but he had every right to be sad. you just had every right to be angry as well.

“i guess so” you agreed, looking at the ground, at the sky, everywhere but at his hurt appearance. “kaeya, i- you know i have to, or you’ll never change”

“i could change with you with me” he gritted, obviously fighting back tears.

“you had a long time to do that before, and you didn’t”. it was hellishly difficult to just say that to him, to your love, your darling, your kaeya, but it had to be done and both of you knew it damn well. “gods” you scoffed “if only you showed up those four days ago, i would’ve forgiven you for everything, you know. i always forgive you for everything.”

he looked back at you with regret piling up in his heart, destroying the hope that grew there shyly. you were right. you had a fight, he apologized, he wanted to make it up to you and he didn’t show. this was a natural consequence of his own actions.

he truly was busy, yes, it was an excuse, but it would be a good one if this was the first time, not the last straw.

“did you forgive me now?” he asked so quietly you almost misheard.

“obviously” you replied in an instant “i love you too much to hold grievance. but you need to learn not to take my love for granted.”

“i didn’t deserve it, though” he shook his head, almost as if ignoring all the rest of what you said, and only focusing on the first part.

“maybe you didn’t. and maybe you did. but i forgave you either way, and that’s my problem.”

he fell silent for a second, for once. he was truly thinking about the whole situation. you knew long ago he regretted what he did every time, but you were never sure if he ever just... thought it through. and now he was doing precisely that.

you walked up to him, and pressed a very soft and quick peck on his cheek, your hand grabbing his and squeezing it lightly before letting go.

and in that one precise moment, he was free of all worries. for a second, he was as if happy again.

but then you moved away and he felt the cold win hit his skin, the same way your departure hit him like a brick in the face.

“bye” you said at the verge of a whisper “i hope you’ll sort yourself out”

he remained quiet as you walked away, tears pooling under your lashes, hand covering your mouth so he wouldn’t hear you sob, as you broke down the second you turned your back on him.

it didn’t feel like the right thing to do.

“that makes the both of us.” he answered, but you were already too far to hear.

I’m happy to announce that requests are open again [briefly] here

#Genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin kaeya #genshin angst #kaeya angst #xinqiu #tohma #genshin tohma #thoma genshin #thoma angst #tohma angst #tohma x reader #thoma x reader

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mrsackermanx · 3 years

Text

18+ Minors do not interact.

𝐓𝐢𝐭𝐥𝐞: 𝘌𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵. (24/?) Part 2 here Part 3

𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧: Erwin and Hange have a proposition for you, you’re the perfect person to further the Ackerman clan...

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.8k

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Virgin Levi, Soft Levi Ackerman, First Time, Loss of Virginity, Aftercare, Creampie, Breeding, Porn with Plot, Comedy, Long Shot, Mommy Kink if you squint.

AN: Ahh virgin Levi <3 I found this in my drafts and decided to finish it, I seriously have no explanation for myself, but virgin Levi supremacy 🧍🏻‍♀️<3

"Strongest woman of Stohess my ass!" bellows the meat headed drunk in front of you.

"Listen up everybody! Place your bets now!" you chuckle, flexing and stretching your arm ready. "Let's fucking see, shall we?"

"Women ain't stronger than men lady!" he laughs brashly, but to his surprise none of the spectators in the tavern join him. In fact, as little as three men announce their betting on him, he's huge, but you aren't known as the strongest woman in Stohess for nothing. You remain famous for carrying 18 pitchers of ale at once, and hustling cash from arm wrestling all the burly men that dare challenge you. Only one man has ever won, and that's Levi, 'Humanities Strongest Solider' himself.

"Let's go, shall we!"

You both pull out chairs and ready your arms, your palms facing of one another, in a flash you join them, both of your arms flexing and rippling, straining to bring the other down.

"You fucking bitch!" he yells. "No way-"

His efforts work to no avail, as you slam his arm down onto the table. Ale rains down on you both, as the commentators screech and wail in favour of your victory, they're all regulars after all, you'd beaten them all to at some point. You only giggle when he reaches forward and lifts you up by the fabric of your dress collar, his face inches from yours, "This is fucking rigged, you must not be a woman!" he roars, this just makes the crowd laugh even more.

You push your knee into his crotch, causing him to double over you in pain, and then effortlessly push him forwards, causing him to flip over the chair he'd sprung up out of and into a whining heap on the floor. You cockily take all the coins being passed to you and drop them into your apron pocket, before bending down and shaking the full pocket above his face.

"I'm gonna check." he growls, pulling at the hem of your dress, but before you can grab his wrist to stop, you notice the entire tavern quiet, and then collectively gasp. It's not long before a kick is sent to the man beside you, right into the side of his face, he yells out in pain and flips down onto the floor, completely knocked out.

"Levi-ii!" you sing, jumping up to wrap your arms around his neck, he ruffles your hair protectively, still glaring down at the man below you with his foot buried into his back.

"Hello [name]."

"Erwin! Hange! Hey guys! My favourite Commanders and Captain!" you flirt, breaking from Levi to hug Hange and Erwin. The rest of the tavern waves them on to, your boss, the resident prostitutes, and all of the drunken regulars and newbies. Many customers marvel at the Survey Corps members, having never actually seen them so close before. This only lasts a few moments though, as they drunkly gnaw on their bread and chug down the ale with straightened backs, before slouching them back into their stools.

"What brings you guys here today?" You smile warmly, taking them to the best seat in the house.

"Big win?" laughs Hange, pointing to the still unconscious man on the floor, you nod enthusiastically, approaching them with a tray of their drinks. Hange and Erwin get ale and Levi gets black tea.

"[Name] please can we have tea!" whines Morgen, one of your favourite regulars.

"Only Levi gets tea! You know that-"

"But it's cold-"

"Tough shit, love ya!" you chuckle, pulling a stool up to the table, and resting your chin on your hands, fully attentive to the three men.

"We have a big favour to ask you." asks Erwin, you cock your head in confusion as you quickly notice there's an uncharacteristic blush to his cheeks.

"And you're welcome to say no! But oh do we hope you agree!" squeals Hange, clasping his hands together.

"It's for the sake of humanity, so we hope you may consider it." butts in Erwin.

"Sure!" you giggle, unsure of their intentions, but still giddy to see them, it's been a while since they've last came. You lean over and place your chin on Levi's shoulder, "You're more quiet than usual, you okay? Also how's Eren? He making Carla proud?"

"He is." he nods, sipping his tea and avoiding your eyes, but he still lovingly pats your head, as he gestures for the two men to continue.

"Well so! We have a proposition for you!"

You take a large gulp of your tea, "Mm, go on."

"It's your body, we-"

"Hey! I'm not in that business but one of our girls would be happy to help, but I didn't knew you were such a lady killer Hange! You are handsome though, and I guess...you guys have needs to right! Wait! Don't you all fuck each other? Have you guys ever fucked? Not at all once—I mean? Yeah? Have you? I could be swayed into that? That would be quite—"

Hange shakes their head as he splutters with laughter for a second, while Erwin and Levi look at you with their mouths agape.

"You're a degenerate." Levi huffs, while Erwin still recovers from choking on his ale.

"No [name], god, nothing like that. So, remember how we discovered a while ago that Levi is apart of a bloodline, called the Ackermans?"

You nod eagerly, pointing a finger to the ceiling "Ahh yes! That I do Hange!"

"Yeah? Well, we need to...further that bloodline."

"Oh?"

"And so we were wondering if you were willing to help us out." Erwin states calmly.

"I'm not in the Survey Corps! How could I help you guys with anything?" you laugh softly, snorting and making Levi scowl at you as you ping his harness across his chest.

"That's precisely our point, you see, we need someone like you, who's not at risk of well..."

"Well?"

"Death! From titans, it's pretty safe within this wall so you're perfect."

"I'm confused here guys, you're gonna have to be more specific." You eye them all curiously, folding your arms.

You've been firm friends with Hange, Erwin and Levi for many years, they'd regularly visited the tavern you co-own, and became huge fans of yours, always trying to persuade you to join the survey corps, but you've just never been interested. Initially you'd taken a bigger interest in Levi, because of your similarity in strength, and he'd quickly became your favourite, but then you warmed to Hange and Erwin to, although Levi is certainly still your favourite. You also love being able to ask Levi how Eren's doing under his care, as Carla was your best friend who worked along side you as a waitress in her younger years, before she had kids and became settled and then...

"Will you help us further the Ackerman clan? By having one of Levi's children." exhales Erwin, wincing like he's preparing for you to swat him.

"But how? Wouldn't that mean I'd have to..."

"Well...yes! And not just once either. You see [name] we think you are the only person to have Levi's child, the best person."

"I am? How? Wait, wait! Levi, what do you think about this?"

His eyes finally meet yours, and when they do you relax slightly, you've quietly pined for Levi many years. But you know that humanity has always been his first priority, he's never shown concern in romance, or sex, but this? This would certainly mean otherwise.

"It's entirely your choice, it's your body, I would never tell you what to do with it."

You blush for a moment, resting your head in your hands as you mull it all over.

"Well, you're impressively strong, so your genes are compatible with Levi's, you're of age, and most importantly Levi isn't disgusted by you." laughs Hange gently, reaching his hand out to yours.

"You can also carry like 4 trays of ale at once, you wrestle all the men around here for money, and you always win-"

"What we're trying to say [name]! Is that on behalf of the Survey Corps, we ensure to take care of you, and would be deeply indebted to you, you would be doing us a huge service, humanity a huge service. But as your friends, we know we could never thank you enough."

You remain silent, Hange is as excited as always, Erwin tenacious, and Levi looks uncharacteristically uncomfortable, it soothes you. You turn your body to Levi's, placing your hand on his knee, he shoots his eyes up at you, while Hange and Erwin, blush violently at your gesture.

"You want to have sex with me Levi?"

"Breed with you." he coldly corrects, shaking his head, his eyes widen when you stand to your feet, and plop yourself onto his lap.

"You definitely know to get a woman going, huh Levi?" you tease, clutching your stomach in laughter. Hange and Erwin loosen up beside you both, they had been worried they'd overstepped until they remembered it's you they're talking to. Levi remains like a carefully carved statue beneath you, his hands balled at his sides, looking up at your face in confusion.

"So, when's this happening then? I mean, I'll be out of work for a while, how will I make my money? Damn I can't believe I'm agreeing to this." you chuckle, shaking your head, until you stop for a moment, feeling something hard against your ass.

You figure the situation is already awkward enough for Levi and keep quiet, but turn your face to shoot him a knowing look, raising your eyebrow at him.

"Please." he hisses in your ear, you nod and he relaxes, patting your back in gratitude.

Erwin talks you through the Scouts declaration to financially support you, and how you will be living privately away from the Scouts lodgings with Levi, alone. With guards protecting you at work, when Levi is away on missions and such, but that's while you're able to work that is. You let it all set in, your head swimming with information.

"So you're doing it, yay!" Hange beams, kissing your hand and squealing in his seat.

"But we'll have a meeting on this [name]! So don't worry too much!" assures Erwin.

"When will we do this then?"

Erwin clears his throat bashfully, "It's entirely up to you both." Hange pouts his lips with a smirk, looking away from the two of you.

"We already have approval for this, so we guess the sooner the better."

"When you don't stink of booze thank you." Levi grumbles with a sigh.

"Now he speaks? And well, I wasn't going to ride you in front of everyone in this tavern Levi."

"Ride? I'm not a horse." he huffs plainly, glaring at you, as you roll your hips slightly to rub against his erection, luckily the movement goes unnoticed by Hange and Erwin, but Levi groans softly into your ear.

"Please." he whispers breathily into your ear.

"Fuck! I'm not popping his cherry am I?" You slap Hange's arm as you curl up with laughter, but he only chuckles back awkwardly. While Erwin covers his face, and Levi yanks at the back of your hair.

"Oh my fuckin-I am, aren't I?"—you turn back to him—"Levi, seriously? What about before the Corps, underground? Didn't you then?"

"I'm sure it's not that difficult."

"Fucking hell."

"We're going to leave, as we're sure you guys have a lot you wish to talk about." salutes Erwin.

"We'll leave your horse outside Levi, here are the keys to your cottage, if the mood strikes that is!" he splutters, while Erwin shakes his head.

"Fuck off four eyes!" he fumes, kicking a giggling Hange, as he walks out with Erwin, they wave their last goodbyes before slipping out of their exit and then you turn back to him.

"Still so hard?" He pulls away from your warm breath tickling his neck as it sends electrical pulses through his nerves, as the hairs there prickle.

"Stop messing with me."

"Fine." You get up and sit opposite him, reclining against the seat, with a mischievous grin to your face, "Oh Levi, I wonder what they'd think if they knew how hard you just were, why was that?"

"Oi, watch it." he warns, but he's looking at you intently, studying your features.

You rub the back of your neck, all of a sudden feeling a little self conscious, "Are you like...worried our kid would be ugly or something?"

"No, because you're not ugly."

"Ahh? Levi the smooth virgin, should that be your new title? Humanities smoothest virg-"

"Fuck off and stop being so loud."

"You're no fun, but I have to ask, do you want to do this?"

"For humanity, yes. Hange and Erwin have told me that this is the best way to ensure that we prevail, because if Mikasa and I are gone, then there's none of us left, and Erwin is sure our bloodline is the key to something."

"I see." You smile softly back, leaning over to hold his hand, he jolts at first, but then lets your hand clasp his.

"But Levi, I don't think I'd want my child to carry the stress of humanity on their backs, I barely like that you do, because if it wasn't already obvious, I care about you."

A slight smile takes his lips, and he nods, you already know that Levi cares about you, so the nod is truly all you need.

"No."

"No what?"

"I'll want to take care of them, when I can."

"So you'd want to be in its life?" You half gasp, you hadn't expected he would for some reason, even though you know some of Levi's beginnings, you just hadn't thought he'd want to be a father to it.

"It's not an it, and I'd be the child's father, so of course." His voice is firm, his eyes now not leaving yours, for a second. "It would be our child, so I'd enjoy seeing you in them to."

"Oh."

"You think I'd leave you alone, after burdening you like this, you're your own woman, independent, strong, you have your own life. I understand we're asking a lot. That...I'm asking a lot."

"Levi listen, I'm willing to put some of my life on hold to do this with you, because it's you. I mean yes...I'm doing it for humanity, but...truthfully, selfishly, I'm also doing it for you, because I want to...with you."

His face softens, a slight blush flushing his cheeks,

"To be honest [name], there's no one else, I would want to do this with, Hange and Erwin tried to find other candidates but they just kept going back to you. Because, well"—his voice trails away—"you noticed earlier, my body, my...it reacts well to you."

"Well I'm honoured Levi." You wink at him, and he sighs with a gentle chuckle.

"When your body 'reacted' to me earlier, It made me want to do it with you already. I don't need, or want to wait." you announce calmly.

"It wasn't weird? Or...horrible?" His cheeks are a deep red now and it's making you melt.

"No, I liked it, I didn't think you found anyone desirable, so I guess I kinda felt special." You feel your cheeks burning now as you turn your face away from his.

"Well I do, you, I think I always have, you're the perfect woman."

"Levi! You really are smooth, mm?"

He looks around to see if anyone's looking and then leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, "Well I guess you'll be finding out [name]."

"So, Levi, do you want to continue this conversation upstairs?" you whisper, flashing him a provocative look, he bites down on his lip nervously, but nods.

"Follow me." You take him to your bedroom, and lock the door behind you, you can see how nervous he is as he stands behind you, and it makes your heart thud.

"Now. Shall I tell you what I meant earlier? Levi?"

He mutters a shy 'okay', and walks over and sits on your bed in the centre of the room, smoothing out the creases on your duvet. He then takes to gazing out of the window as he swallows thickly, and as you move to sit beside him, you see him tense up. He clears his throat before speaking, "The plan of action tonight?"

You chuckle sweetly to yourself, his jaw is sharp and tense, and his hands crossed into his lap. You move your lips to his ear and plant a chaste kiss to it before speaking, "If that's what you'd like to call it Levi."

"Shit." he exhales heavily, trying to avoid your stare, as your breath sends currents down his spine.

"So, shall I tell you what I meant earlier?" you repeat once more, honeying your voice.

He nods shyly. "Teach me."

"I'd sit on top of these thighs of yours." you purr in his ear, watching him grit his jaw, as you dance your fingertips along his inner thigh.

"And I'd put this inside me." You grin, lightly palming his clothed bulge.

"[Name]!" he splutters, clutching the sheet below him.

"And I'd lift myself up and down to bounce on it, and that would be what riding is."

"What." he gasps, turning to you with his grey eyes filled with shock, as you speak the dirtiest image into his head.

"That wouldn't hurt you?"

"No. And so if I ride you, which I'm sure I will at some point, that's what it'll be." you soothe, pressing a lingering and hot kiss to his neck, making him breathe out raggedly with shut eyes as you do.

He instinctively knits his hand through your hair and rests it there and it makes you swoon even more. "Is that something you'd like?" you croon, running your hand to the back of his undercut and making him shiver.

"I don't know, I've never done it." he stammers.

"Don't worry. We'll try something else first, okay?"

"Okay." he murmurs, as you continue to cover his neck and throat in kisses, his heart is thudding in his chest, and he's never felt so scared in his life. But when you lower yourself below his thighs, he realises how safe you really make him feel as he gazes down into your warm eyes.

"This will be special, because I'll be the first woman to touch you." you hum, as you start to unbuckle his trousers and harnesses.

His voice is shaky, and his knees are bouncing in anticipation, "I agree." he utters quietly.

"Is this okay?" you ask, stroking his thigh, he nestles his face into his forearm, babbling a hum in response.

"Tell me, use your words."

"Yes, please, show me, I'm trusting you."

You gently tug down his trousers, pulling his boxers with them, you can't conceal the shock on your face when his cock springs out. He removes his arm from his face, as he feels your movements halt below him.

"What? Is it not good?...Ugly?" he stammers, you smile at him, running your fingertips along his thighs. He shivers, he's so sensitive you love it.

"It's more than good, don't worry for a moment, okay?"

"[Name] I have something to say." he blurts out, you look up at him, taking a deep breath.

"I don't think it works, if this can work."

"How do you mean?"

"Wait, do you not get hard like this often? Don't be shy Levi, tell me, because we are gonna be sharing our bodies until it works, so let me know everything."

He exhales deeply, completely flustered above you. "Well, this happens most mornings when I wake up, but I just ignore it."

You try to stop your spluttering laughter, and although he feels embarrassed he relaxes a little more at the sound. "Why don't you just....you know, take care of it?"

"It doesn't work. But I don't know, but sometimes it just does what it does, by itself, I'll wake up and it's already...done so I just wait for that."

"You've never made yourself cum!?"

"I think a few times, I don't know, I don't think I can do it, not properly."

You lean up and wrap your arms around his neck, and press soft lengthy kisses to it. "Is that why you were so worried?"

"Mm."

"Well let's try, okay?"

"Yeah." he whispers, the darkness of the night concealing his reddened cheeks, but he can feel them burning, and so can you against your neck. It's so sweet.

You work his shirt off, kissing at his skin and paying special attention to the darkened marks from his gear. You then slide your hand gently down the centre of his chest, until you reach his abdomen,

"Tell me how it all feels, okay?" You start to slowly palm his cock, it's throbbing and hot in your palm, and there's already steady drooling of pre-cum bubbling out of his slit.

"Oh my-shit!" he whimpers, cursing endlessly into your ear, slotting one hand into the back of your tresses, and holding on to you, while his other digs into your waist. He bucks his hips into your hand, as you jerk him even faster, "Fuck! Damn! This is different. [Name] you sweet sweet woman." he moans, you kiss along his jawline to soothe him.

"I know, but there's more." You pull your hand away and lower yourself between his legs, kneeling and pressing both of your hands on top of his thighs.

"Watch."

"Okay." he blushes, sharply inhaling as you spread your tongue, and start to lick firm strips up and down his shaft, tickling the underside. His hands rush into your hair and he shivers violently, whimpering so obscenely, you feel more wetness pool out and gather in your underwear.

You return your hand to his cock, as you pull away to speak to him for a moment, "You've got such a pretty cock Levi." you hum, knowing full well it's going to turn him on even more. A loud choked out noise slips his throat, as his body lurches forward slightly, his cock hardening in your hand.

"[Name]! You're so filthy."

"Now, I'm going to see how it tastes, okay?"

"You don't have to—oh fuck!"

You place your lips over his tip, and push your lips down it, taking him slowly past your lips, throaty groans of appreciation erupt from his throat, as his hands pull tight at your hair. You then pull away, a thick string of spit and pre cum following, making his whole body shudder at such an erotic sight.

"That's fucking good." you whisper with a smile, holding his dick in place by your lips, and pointing your tongue down into his slit. He practically shrieks out at the gesture and you retract your tongue, "You're so sensitive Levi, it really is adorable."

"Stop. Don't laugh at me." he hisses, his eyes however soft, as he holds your face.

"I'd never fucking dream of it." you say simply and seriously, he nods wordlessly, and lets you resume. This time you tighten your lips around him, ensuring you cover his entire cock in your saliva, spreading his pre-cum over the veiny ridges of the impressive length. You make it as comfortable for him as you can, before you bop your head up and down on him, until you reach tremendous speed, using your hand to jerk what your mouth can't possibly take.

"Fuck, this is too good, I don't know how to, deal with this!" he stutters, moaning uncontrollably and clutching your hair tight.

Within minutes he's bucking his hips out to your lips, and you feel him growing close already, it's his first time after all. So you pull away your mouth so it's only on his tip past your lips, and suck with a dizzying pressure while your hand works on his shaft.

"Oh my god, fuck! [Name] m-move! Move! This is t-too much now! Oh, no, oh no! Fuck! Somethings gonna-"

You grin around his cock, and only seconds later the hot liquid explodes into your mouth, spilling down the corners of your lips, and at first you only carry on. But then he's panting so erratically, you have to quickly swallow and straddle his lap, stroking his cheeks as his body shakes and calming him.

"Please, need a second. Shit, shit." he groans breathily, his chest heaving. "That's never-I've never—had anything like that."

"You did it, it's okay." You smile as you softly kiss and suckle on his neck, however this only seems to make him more sensitive as he pushes you back gently by your shoulders.

He then wraps his arms around your neck, still panting into your chest, "Please, I can't, when you touch me I feel it everywhere."

"If you knew the things you were doing to me, mm? Saying such lovely things." you tease, as you run your hands through his hair. "But breathe, okay Levi?" you tell him, kissing his cheek and playfully twiddling his hair around your fingers.

After a few minutes of him catching his breath, he leans back to face you, his face furrowed in frustration as he speaks, "There is more though, isn't there? For you, what about you? Don't women get anything?"

"Levi." you giggle, as he looks into your eyes with pure confusion.

"I enjoyed giving you pleasure, so I did get something."

His tone is leaving no arguments. "But your body didn't, did it? Can I see? I want to do something to you now."

"If you want to."

He speaks reflectively, looking at you with sparkling eyes, "I do, for the first time in my life."

"You liked it? What I did?"

"I didn't know that my body could ever feel like that." He smiles softly, making you melt, as it's something you've only seen a couple of times. He then grabs your face and kisses your cheek tentatively, "Thank you for giving me something so special."

You grab his face and kiss his cheek back. "You're so sweet Levi."

He suddenly grips your waist tight, pulling away in concern, "But wait, wasn't that a waste of it?"

"I'm sure you've got more to give, and we're not only going to do this once."

"Good."

"Are you scared?"

"Of you Levi?" you giggle.

"Well can you let me do something now?"

"Yes, I'm just waiting on your instruction, Captain." you tease, making him shake his head but his lips curl up nonetheless.

"Okay, then...take your clothes off, for me."

You grin as you stand up and pull your apron off, letting it drop to the floor, "Slowly." he adds, reclining back against your headboard, his eyes glued to your every movement.

"Blowie made you bold?" you giggle, as you start undoing your dresses buttons.

"Oi!" he glares, slapping his knee at you in challenge. You pull off your dress, only your bra and underskirt remaining, but when you go to unhook your bra he stops you.

"I want to take that off." he says casually, your eyes widen at his nonchalance but you nod and start to pull down your underskirt. Like with your bra you leave your underwear on and he smiles to himself. You're wearing white pants and a white bra, and Levi thinks you look so pretty in a matching set.

"Shit." he mutters, leaning forwards and resting his face in his hands. "This is what you look like underneath, you really are...perfect."

"Stop gawping and running that pretty little mouth of yours." you tease, your cheeks burning.

"Yeah." he mutters airily, his eyes not leaving your body as he gets up from the bed and kneels in front of you. He grabs onto your leg, and starts to follow kisses up it, his eyes don't break from yours as he drags his lips across your skin, and you let your hand find rest in his hair as he does. When he reaches your inner thighs, he stops with widened eyes when he sees how wet you are, "Is that because you like this?" he asks curiously, running a finger up and down the soaked gusset of your panties. You nod wordlessly and he licks his finger, grinning to himself at the taste, "Oh?"

He quickly stands up and grabs your bra by either of its cups and rips it apart, causing it to snap and fall to the ground. Before you can even protest, he clutches both of your hips, holding you in his arms, and slaps your ass to indicate for you to hop up on him and you do with no hesitation.

He walks backwards and sits carefully on the edge of his bed with you straddling him. "Interesting." he hums, as he starts to kiss sloppily at your breasts, while twisting and rubbing at your nipples.

"Interesting?" you laugh.

"I've never been attracted to someone else's body like this before, I feel like we could do this all night and it still wouldn't be enough." he muses, before sucking one of your breasts and fondling the other with his hand. "I want to see everything, all of you."

You stare down at him in awe, his soft hair tickling your chest as he leaves trails of saliva across your breasts, he's so open in your arms and you love it. Speaking his thoughts as they come, carefully exploring you.

"I like these a lot." he rasps, sucking so hard on one path of skin that when he pulls his lips away and sees the mark that's there, his head tilts curiously.

"So that's what these are? I'm always seeing those fucking brats with these, so they've been lying to me then."

"What do they say they are?"

"Just bruises from training." You giggle, and stroke his cheeks as he speaks, his face relaxed for once, his brows not furrowed, his lips not frowning, he's completely glowing.

"Can I do these anywhere?" he asks.

"Wherever you want, why? Do you like them?"

"Yes, they look pretty on your skin." he says simply, you pinch his cheeks and laugh.

"I never thought I'd hear you say these kind of words Levi."

"Well get used to it." he chuckles, before stopping as his expression quickly turns to a thoughtful one. "I don't mind...if you want to give me one."

Your face lights up, "I do." You grab his cheeks as you follow kisses down to just below his jaw and suck and kiss at the spot right by his pulse. He groans softly as you do, clutching you close, until you finish it off with a kiss and pull away with a satisfied expression.

He grabs your chin and looks deeply into your eyes, "I'm yours now, so I'm going to leave my mark all over you, so you'll be mine."

"Fuck Levi, damn. I'll be all yours, always."

He smiles, still so innocently as he stands you both up, and turns to drop you down gently in front of him. "Yes, you are."

He kneads your breasts as he kisses down your body to your hips, tapping your thighs to squeeze around his neck as he explores you further. He quickly realises how much he enjoys playing with the taut skin of your hipbones, sucking the skin tight and letting his teeth graze it. He lazes comfortably between your inner thighs, in fact you've never seen him so content. He rubs his cheek against them, before he sucks and nibbles in every mark, running his fingertips across every bruise his lips leave.

He sets your body on fire with his mouth, and you don't fight him for a moment. And when he's done, he looks up at with you with warm eyes, as he attaches both his hands to either sides of your underwear and tugs.

"Do you want me to tell you how to do it?" you ask, rubbing his shoulder, he only chuckles, shaking his head.

"I'm sure I can figure it out. It can't be that hard I just need to put my mouth on it don't I?"

"I guess you'll see." you chuckle.

He pulls them completely off and his face is filled with shock when he sees the strings of wetness that break when he does. Your pussy is dripping down your thighs, not that he hadn't noticed but now he can really see how much you want it and it's sending chills down his spine. He grabs onto either side of your thighs, and licks a slow strip from the bottom of your opening and up, you twitch and moan obscenely when his tongue reaches your clit. He stops and clutches your thighs, his face filled with uncharacteristic excitement, "It's there? Isn't it?!"

"Not telling you." you tease.

"That's fine, your body will."

He starts to slowly flick and suck at your clit, pulling a multitude of different sounds out of you, and he commits each one to memory, observing your every response. Within minutes he's deduced all your most sensitive spots and preferences.

"It's kind of sweet." he muses, licking his lips and staring at you.

"Do you like it?"

He smiles, grabbing your hips and diving his head back down. "Yes I do, we'll do it again."

You look at him stunned, "Yeah?"

"I'm going to want to do this again, yes. I like the way you taste."

"Levi, oh my." you moan, as he returns his mouth down to your cunt, licking and prodding your clit. He slowly reaches his fingers up, stroking them up and down your opening, before gently pushing one in, and making your back arch from the sensation.

"Like this?" he groans.

"Good, add another!" you choke, he nods and pushes another in, his thick sinewy fingers massaging them inside you with care while his tongue works.

"Fuck Levi, damn! You're good, so good."

He starts slow at first, flicking his tongue over your clit slowly, lapping and savouring, until he turns into a man starved, not giving you a moment and locking your hips in place with his forearm. He nudges and licks your clit so fast, you feel yourself starting to cum, while his fingers match the inhuman pace. He grins up at you, watching you completely overtook by pleasure, and stops.

"Levi!" you cry out, kicking him.

"Why did you stop!?"

"I wanted to show you that you were no longer the one in control here." he says calmly, pressing a few lazy kisses to your thighs with a grin. "I know what I'm doing now."

"Levi, you do know you're gonna be putting that in here, don't you?" you laugh, averting your eyes to his cock.

"I'll do just fine at that." he huffs, slapping your thigh playfully.

"I'm good with my hips, and that's what it will require. I'm guessing."

"This isn't ODM gear." you laugh.

"You'll be finished when I'm done, I'm sure." he says coolly, your face drops and you cross your legs together.

"What did I awaken today?" you ask half seriously, giggling.

"Who knows, maybe I won't let you finish, now open your legs for me, I want more." he breathes, prying them apart.

"Someone's cocky." you wink.

"Someone might not get this cock if they carry on." He grins, climbing over your body and resting his hand on your throat, you reach a hand up and lock yours over his, encouraging him to squeeze it harder, making his grey eyes ignite.

"Don't forget your mission." you taunt.

"Remember what Hange said, he said we have to do it more than once, so this is just a practise session. Then once I know, I can ensure I'm doing it properly."

"Talking dirty?" you chuckle dryly, making him smirk and laugh a little.

"Why don't you tell me how much you want me to do it then?"

"Not all of us are so shy Levi, I want you to make me cum."

"Watch it, but how?" he smirks, covering your neck in kisses.

"I want you to use your mouth."

"How?"

"Your tongue, just like before." you moan, as he starts to rub at your clit, slipping two fingers up into you again, but taking a ruthlessly fast pace this time.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks, you laugh at the question, pointing your eyes down to his hand as his fingers stroke inside you.

"Little late I think." you giggle, but you grab his face and pull him into a deep kiss. He doesn't move much at first, and he slows the pace down inside you as he takes his time to focus on your lips. Surprisingly, as soon as he gets a grasp on what to do, he takes control, slipping his tongue in against yours, and sucking at your lips with little gasping whines that make you throb around his fingers. When he pulls away, a string of spit falls and he grimaces at it, but you lean forwards and lick it away from his lips and he melts further into you, feeling more connected to you than ever.

"That was our first kiss, don't forget it." he whispers, pulling you into a sloppier one as he speeds his fingers up.

"I'd never." you mewl, struggling to kiss him as you moan and splutter into his mouth, still so sensitive from his tongue.

"No. Don't move your lips away, I like kissing you." He bites down on your lower lip with a smirk as you weakly moan into his mouth, he hums deeply as you do, fucking his fingers into you harder.

"Cum on these for me, give yourself to me."

"Fuck, here I thought you were a good boy Levi."

He bites your lip harder at your words, "I am. I'll be the best you ever had."

"What are you gonna do?" you groan, your voice barely stays even, as you gasp and mewl softly into his cheek.

"I'll let you cum first." He travels his mouth from your cheekbone to the tip of your ear, biting on to it, as your hips start to shake.

"Do it now. Cum."

"You're sounding like a real Captain now Levi." you moan, wrapping your thighs around his hips as you start to feel the pleasure overtake you.

"Oh fuck, Levi, right there!"

The rough pads of his fingers do not ease their movements, as he scissors them into you. "Damn it [name]."

"Fuck! Levi, Levi! I'm there!" You clench around his fingers, your cum making his movements slicker, yet he still carries on, until you grab his wrist, the sensation too overpowering.

"Now I need a moment." You chuckle breathlessly, to your surprise, he wraps his arms around your neck, and holds you while you regain your senses, lightly shaking and spasming in his arms.

After a few minutes of him running his fingers through your locks, you snake your arms up to his chest and lay the palms of your hands flat on him before rolling you both over.

"What are you doing?" He sighs, as you straddle him and hover your hips over his, ready to ride him.

"No, we're not doing it like that." he huffs, grabbing onto your hips, you drop your hand on his chest and lower yourself down, grabbing his base and guiding it anyway.

"I thought you might want to try it like this."

"No, I told you I can manage now. We'll do that after." He flips you on your back next to him and straddles your hips, pinning your wrists above your head as he grips your waist with another.

"You mean riding-" you mock, but before you can even continue he sighs and takes further control of you.

"I'm putting it in, this way."

"Fuck okay." you moan, as he rolls his hips back and forth letting his shaft get coated in your cum.

He guides it to your opening, and looks up at you,

"Are you okay? I'm going to put it, all in."

"Of course, are you nervous now?" you taunt, flashing your eyes down to his hand still gripping his cock, his tip barely nudging your pussy.

"You just keep pushing and pushing don't you?"

He drops the grip on your hands, and places both his hands on your hips, before he roughly bucks his hips into you, his cock completely filling you at once, and you're so slick with cum, he slides right in.

"Levi! You feel fucking good!"

"Oh shit! Oh my god, you feel like—I've never felt anything better!"

"You okay?" you laugh, running your hands through his hair. "You're not a virgin anymore."

"Shut up, and just give me a moment...please." he chuckles, panting in your ear.

"Yes, just breathe."

"So this is why men get addicted to women, and not just alcohol and money, power." he speaks softly, running his hands up and down your thighs, he enjoys the warmth as you hook them so tightly around his waist.

"Is what why?" you ask gently, kissing his head, lazily bristling your fingers up his undercut.

"I just never knew this would feel so good...that other people felt this good, shit there is more to life then."

"Than tea, yes." you giggle.

"Oi!"

"I guess I just never saw the fuss until now."

"Did you never want to do this with anyone before?"

"I did, I realise that now. But only with you, I don't really find anyone else attractive, only you. I just thought I'd never have this with anybody, let alone you."

"Why?"

"People are dirty."

"Do I feel dirty?" you ask curiously, kissing his cheek as you caress his face.

"I wouldn't have put my mouth on you, and licked-"

"Got it! I got it!"

"But I'm glad, that you're comfortable."

"Mmhm. So now, you better hold on, I'll show you, and you'll regret doubting me."

"Oh I bet I will."

He hovers back over you, pressing a hand to your cheek, and leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, as he starts to roll his hips forward. He's clutching your hip so tightly that you invite the marks, you quite like being marked by him, and he's already near covered you top to toe anyway.

"How do I feel?" he groans.

"You feel fucking good." Your voice is raspy, you can barely speak, his dick is reaching places no man has ever reached before, and surprisingly his thrusts are so measured and consistent you can feel yourself turning to jelly into his clutch. "How do you feel?"

"Like I really want to put our baby inside you now." Like a man consumed by lust, he hitches one of your thighs higher, wraps his arms around the underside of it, and throws it up over his shoulder.

"You gonna fill me with you, mm?"

"Fuck, you really need to hold onto something." he stammers. His sudden switch into such seriousness turns you on even more as you hook your arms around his neck. "Let's see how much you can take, hm?"

"All of it." you moan, as he steadily starts to buck his hips into yours.

"Then let me see how you take it for me."

"Levi, damn it!"

The sounds of his cock hitting into your dripping cunt quickly grow so lewd that you shove your face into your forearm. He only rips it from your face almost immediately, grabbing your chin and thrusting his lips on yours. "Don't hide from me, we'll be doing this a lot from now on, and you're so damn pretty to me." he groans into your lips, fucking you even faster, you pull on his hair as you feel yourself getting closer.

"Even prettier like this." he coos, kissing at your temple as you start to shake under him, you place your hand on his stomach, trying to slow him as he fucks you closer to your climax.

"Oh, fuck, Levi, I can't, I'm gonna lose it-oh! Shit!"

"You're gonna finish so soon?" he asks curiously, his teeth gritted above you as sweat beads down his temples.

"Oh fuck, your face, you look beautiful." he beams, as he admires how fucked out you look. He delights in how you twitch in his hold, losing yourself to him, and how he feels. You cry out as you cum, and as your walls tighten around his cock he grunts loudly in your ear, you've never felt such pleasure, it feels like your entire body is filling with the feeling and it's driving you crazy.

"Oh [name], I'm gonna put this fucking baby in you, you'll be mine! Full of me, you're gonna look so good—carrying our baby! I want it so bad."

"Yeah? You gonna make me a mommy." you moan dazedly.

"Yes, a-p-pretty mommy, yes, fuck! So fucking pretty! Oh, mommy! All mine, all mine!"

He groans out one last time before his entire weight drops on top of you, and you feel his hot seed fill you up. You both lie there breathless, bodies stuck together with sweat.

After a few minutes he holds his weight in his forearms either side of your head before rolling over, "I'm so sorry, I must be heavy." he pants, you go to stand up and he pulls you back down on top of him.

"What are you doing? Is this what people do after sex? They just leave?" he whispers.

"I'm kinda dripping everywhere, don't you mind-" before you can even continue you're moaning again, cheek pressed against his chest, forehead being kissed. He starts to finger you gently, swirling his cum around inside of you and pushing it deep.

"No, I don't mind, you're soft, but I'm asking again? Do people just leave afterwards?"

"Mostly, do you want me to never just leave when we do it?"

"Yes...thanks, would be that be a bother to you? Do people hate that?"

"No, I like it a lot, most men don't stay."

He's utterly astonished. "Really? Well, I always will."

You smile as you nuzzle yourself closer into his chest, kissing lazily as he runs his hand up and down your hip. He sighs out contently, "You're so damn soft."

Previous Chapter-

23: "𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭." {𝘔𝘰𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘯 𝘈𝘶 } (𝘙𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 )

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25: 𝘏𝘦𝘳.

MrsAckermanX 2021 ©

#aot smut #levi x reader #levi ackerman #aot fanfiction #levi fanfiction #attack on titan

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shijiujun · 3 years

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[END 2020] My Top 9 Danmei Novel Picks of the Year

As a part of my Round Up post for the year, here’s my pick of favourite danmei novels, that I’ve read! This is sort of an accompaniment to my previous danmei rec list over HERE, so there may be one or two overlaps, but I’ve read WAY MORE after that and am prepared to like give more options here

Note: There should be English translations for all via novel updates if you do a search of the English name, but I don’t think most of them are completed.

If you wanna see my full reading and queue list (it’s all in Chinese tho, for my own records), it’s here.

I’m leaving out the usual MXTX and Priest ones, because they’re already good and we all know that and there’re many carrds and posts dedicated to them.

I am also a sucker for fainting but smart men, and not too overly angsty/complicated storylines, just putting it out there first, which is why I haven’t read a lot of some of the ones on my queue list.

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1. 一剑霜寒 | A Sword of Frost by 语笑阑珊

Summary: Jing Yan Ran is the Emperor’s brother and wields military power in the novel, and it starts with an object being stolen from the palace. Jing Yan Ran has to retrieve the item secretly, and so enlists the help of Feng Yu Sect’s Sect Master, Yun Yi Feng, who heads the martial arts world’s one and only information trading post. Yun Yi Feng does not deal in business that involves any royalty, but Jing Yan Ran offers him something he cannot refuse - the Blood Red Lingzhi, a rare and mystical herb that is rumoured to be able to treat his life-threatening condition.

Yun Yi Feng was used by his shifu when he was younger to test out all kinds of poisons and cures, and since then, his body flushes dangerously hot and cold frequently, with bouts of severe coughing fits in between. Throughout the first mission where he spends time with Jing Yan Ran searching for the stolen object, he allows Jing Yan Ran to take care of him, and they fall in LURVE pretty much like 10 chapters in.

Of course, they have to uncover a plot and conspiracy against their enemies who are plotting to dethrone the Emperor, and also reveal the secrets of Yun Yi Feng’s birth.

My Thoughts: AN ABSOLUTE FAVE AND GEM, I’d say this is my favourite danmei novel ever. This is both hilarious and tears-inducing, to be honest, because for most of the novel YYF knows he doesn’t have long to live and so in the beginning he knows of his own feelings for JYR and JYR also shows him that he loves him, but he is unable to officially reciprocate because he knows his body is like weakening day by day. Halfway through the fear that he’s literally about to die as they are JUST about to find the cure is real, and damn I cried so much at that. Some highlights:

YYF falls asleep very easily in baths and everywhere actually, and pretty much within the first 10 chapters he gets used to JYR carrying him around (even naked from the bath, he’s like oh well, okay cool) and taking care of him, and JYR ALWAYS makes sure he is warm and toasty under his cape

YYF LOVESSSS RICHES, PLAYING THE ZITHER AND COOKING - He’s good at gathering the first one, but he FUCKING SUCKS AS THE LAST TWO - It’s so funny because he’s so beautiful and handsome right, and when he sits down at the zither everyone is like OH DAMN WHAT A DREAM- and then he plays, and everyone’s fantasies is shattered, he’s ABYSMAL at it, and the same goes for cooking

JYR doesn’t actually have the Blood Red Lingzhi, and throughout the first arc, he feels SO DAMN GUILTY because YYF even carved out a pendant that looks like what he thinks the herb looks like, and like carries it with him everywhere LMAO

Available: Novel Online and Manhua on Bilibili

2. 高能二维码 | High Energy QR Code by 青色羽翼

Summary: CEO Xing Ye’s brother Xing Shuo has just passed away at the age of 24, and nothing will make him believe that Xing Shuo died of natural causes despite autopsies and experts telling him that he really died simply of a heart failure. Xing Ye, who has impeccable memory, suddenly recalls the last time he saw Xing Shuo. His brother called out to him just before Xing Ye left for a business trip, and looked as if he had something to say, but ended up just wishing him a safe trip.

At that moment, there was a QR code on Xing Shuo’s phone, and the phone screen was strangely turned out towards Xing Ye, and Xing Ye, with his incredibly high IQ and memory, realizes that Xing Shuo wanted him to see the QR code. Quickly, he reproduces the QR code by pen and then scans it, and finds himself in a game world.

There he meets a narcissistic but also cute mirror which can speak, and finds out later that his name is Lu Ming Ze. Xing Ye’s mission is to clear the game missions in each round that is set by the black and white cubic game system, a system that continuously tempts its players into giving in to committing sins such as killing someone else, stealing and other things. He soon realizes that if he cannot stay on a path clear of these sins, he will never be able to triumph over the game system and return Lu Ming Ze back to his body in the real world.

At the same time, he gains new teammates and friends for life, and also finds out what role his brother played in this game.

My Thoughts: MY GOD I LOVE THIS. I LITERALLY JUST FINISHED READING THIS YESTERDAY, and honestly it’s one of my faves. I don’t like game systems very often (I’ve read three others so far, and this, and KOD are the only ones I’ve liked) but this one is *chef’s kiss*. So LMZ was born like with a really handsome face, like SUPER HANDSOME, and that’s why he’s like a harmless narcissist that cannot bear to look at ugly things LMAO, but he’s not spoilt, he makes sure that Xing Ye stays true to himself, and help him keep his head clear.

THE ONLY THING ABOUT THIS FRICKIN NOVEL IS THAT LU MING ZE STAYS A MIRROR, LIKE DIFFERENT KINDS OF MIRRORS, in the first TWO HUNDRED AND FIFTY CHAPTERS. I KID YOU NOT. I FRICKIN KID YOU NOT. I swear I was sooo touched starved at the end of the novel, because they couldn’t even kiss?!! Like Xing Ye kisses the mirror, and then uses his thumbs to like hi-five mini LMZ in the mirror back, they can’t even hug. Do you know how empty my arms felt when I read this book?!! And my arms have never been filled!!!!!!

I really like this one because each game world is set up in such a brilliant way, but it’s not so unnecessarily complex that you literally don’t know what the fuck is going on. Xing Ye’s intelligence as he outmanoeuvres every single one of his enemies and convinces his would-be loyal teammates to trust him is so satisfying, world after world, victory after victory.

Humour is also absolutely ON POINT. A lot of it is centred on Xing Ye getting caught in the real world kissing his handheld mirror (LMZ) by LMZ’s parents (who cannot see him in the mirror) and LMZ’s parents going like ???!!!!!!!!

Available: Novel Online | Physical Novel is coming out on 10 Dec (freebies are, you guessed it, a mirror)

3. 妻为上 | The Wife is First by 绿野千鹤

Summary: This is set in a historical setting where men can marry other men, but it’s usually reserved for sons who were not borne by the official main first wife of the patriarch of the family, i.e. a son born by a concubine in a family may be forced to marry a man to keep him from being able to become the next family’s patriarch for example. This is because any family’s next leader needs to be able to have children with a wife who married in as a zheng shi (lawful wife), and not a ce shi (second wife) or any other concubines/mistresses etc. Most of these men who marry other men have to take them as their zheng shi and lawful spouse in a sense, and the same goes for the royal family.

The story starts with third prince Jing Shao, who was forced to marry Mu Han Zhang, a Marquis’ second son, by the Empress and Emperor, thereby officially and effectively cutting him out of the race for the throne. He’s mocked by the public as everyone knows what this means, and for the next 10 years, he neglects Mu Han Zhang, blaming him for his predicament, and deliberately showers his three other concubines with affection in front of him, but 10 years later, when Jing Shao is accused of treason, everyone leaves him except for Mu Han Zhang. They are chased to the edge of the cliff by soldiers, and Mu Han Zhang dies in his arms having taken an arrow meant for him earlier, and Jing Shao jumps off the cliff with his dead body, and promises that if there’s a next life, he will do everything Han Zhang says, and love him.

He wakes up immediately on the night of his marriage with Han Zhang, and realizes that he’s been given a second chance to make everything right. Han Zhang is definitely afraid of him, humiliated and angry when he first wakes up after how rough Jing Shao was with him earlier on their wedding night, and he has no memories of their past life. Jing Shao then sets to SHOWER HAN ZHANG with affection, love and basically everything, because he realized that this is the only person who stayed by his side until the end, and then he falls in love with Han Zhang properly this time, and also deals with every single person who maligned and schemed against him in his previous life, with Han Zhang by his side.

My Thoughts: OKAY BEFORE YALL GO INTO THE ‘WIFE’ terminology discourse and everything, in this case they do use the term ‘wife’ literally, and it’s a position, that while men frequently fall into (there are a lot of male ‘wives’ in this story), is also used to cut off like sons from inheriting the family and the fortune, and even titles. Male ‘wives’ aren’t looked down upon in this setting, in fact, Han Zhang gets a lot of leeway as one, and in his case he was also able to rise up the ranks to be an actual official later on, but the sad thing comes from sons who are most of the time forced to marry a male ‘wife’ for whatever reason, and then they are neglected as the son goes and find concubines, women he actually wants to sleep with - this is sad af yall. I don’t know, on one hand, yay for equality in marriage in this setting, but on the other hand like, damn, must you use same-sex marriage like that argh.

ANYWAY THIS IS ONE OF MY FAVES TOO?!!! I mean, especially when Jing Shao literally just goes into doting mode 200% and Han Zhang is totally like wtf why is he so nice to me is he scheming or something? And then he realizes that Jing Shao is really, really gentle towards him despite his reputation as a cruel, dark military commander, and Jing Shao always smiles at him. In any situation, especially in the beginning, when Han Zhang thought Jing Shao would not stand with him, Jing Shao literally just protects him no matter what, gives him everything, and cries, I love it.

Especially because Han Zhang is the son of a concubine and he was bullied a lot in the Mu family, and the official Lady Mu married him off to Jing Shao in hopes that he would be unhappy for the rest of his life, and I suppose that came true in the first life, but in the second, Han Zhang gets all the love, respect and support he never got before in this family with Jing Shao and that makes me WEEP.

Available: Novel Online and Manhua on Kuaikan

4. 死亡万花筒 Kaleidoscope of Death by 西子绪

OOOH I intro-ed KOD here in my previous rec list. Still one of my faves and all-time re-reads, especially under the covers in the dark hehehe.

5. 你的距离 | Your Distance by 公子优

Summary: Ting Shuang is a student at a German university, and has this handsome professor Bai Chang Yi who he swears kind of hates him. He’s just broken up with his longtime boyfriend, and then goes on this dating app that matches a profile with him based on distance. The app can also show the matched profile’s distance from him once they enter the same area, and Ting Shuang starts chatting with this Chinese guy on the app, who he finds out later, is 36 years old, 187cm in height and wears glasses.

The guy is a little aloof and cool, very mature in his replies on the app, and somehow Bai Chang Yi finds out who he is later, as Ting Shuang starts complaining to him about his professor to Bai Chang Yi. Instead of getting angry and offended, BCY is pretty much amused and finds Ting Shuang cute. A few days later Ting Shuang finally realizes who it is he’s been texting, and after getting past the initial embarrassment and fear, they start dating for real, and they really fall in love!!!!!

My Thoughts: This is sweet and also hilarious af, if you need to like satisfy your sweet tooth, this is definitely one for you. It’s really funny because Bai Chang Yi runs in the same circles as Ting Shuang’s dad, who he’s estranged from because the dad doesn’t want to recognize a son who is gay, and then BCY convinces him later in the funniest of ways, and there’s a small subplot at the end in which Ting Shuang is pretty cool, and yep, short and sweet! BCY in the manhua is handsome af too guys ;-;

Available: Novel Online, Audio Drama on Maoer FM and Manhua on Bilibili,

6. 神木挠不尽 The White Cat’s Divine Scratching Post by 绿野千鹤

Summary: Mo Tian Liao, a weapons forger and master who ruled the Demon Tribe, was hunted down and killed by other righteous sects in the region when he managed to forge an incredibly destructive weapon that could end the world. Before he died, he placed the only thing he loved, a white cat, into a hole in the tree behind him to protect it. The only thing he was grateful for was that he did not create a blood pact with the cat, Xiao Mao, because if he had done so, when he died, Xiao Mao would have died along with him as well.

Right before he dies, unbeknownst to him, Xiao Mao who is no simple demonic cat, wraps part of his consciousness around Mo Tian Liao, and MTL’s spirit ends up floating about for 300 years, until he finds a suitable time to return with a body made out of a special tree and its wood. The first thing he does, of course, is to find his white cat, but he’s poor, and the body he has isn’t powerful, so he joins Wo Yun Sect, the only sect that did not hunt him down that day hundreds of years ago.

There, he is chosen by Qing Tong shizun to be his direct disciple, much to the astonishment of other shizuns in the sect, and Qing Tong’s shixiongs. MTL has never seen a person as beautiful and gorgeous as his shizun, and if only he could find that cat (who’s actually his shizun, who recognizes him and protects him, even if MTL doesn’t actually need much protection).

My Thoughts: This was hilarious as well, and so romantic?!!! Qing Tong/Xiao Mao waited for MTL to come back, and the moment he came back, Qing Tong was there ready to grab him, and then before he went to sleep that night, Qing Tong thought to himself, “I’ve gotten my person back, I can sleep well now” and AHHHHH at this point they weren’t even like a couple yet? MTL ‘kidnapped’ Qing Tong when he was a young demon cat by accident because he likes pretty things (like his shizun lmao) and Qing Tong is attached to him because MTL never forced a blood pact on him, and gave him everything he wanted as a younger cat before MTL died. Gosh, a mirror in #2 and then a cat now with this one. XD

Available: Novel Online

7. 破云 | Breaking the Clouds by 淮上

Summary: Three years ago, Captain Jiang Ting and his team of the Narcotics division perished in an explosion due to a wrong call of his, and he returns three years later under a new identity ready to deal with the people who set him and his team up. He’s caught in what seems to be a simple murder case almost immediately and meets Yan Xie, who’s Vice Captain and in charge of this case. Yan Xie realizes who Jiang Ting is shortly after, and begins to unravel the huge mystery surrounding the events of three years ago, and falls in love with Jiang Ting along the way as well.

My Thoughts: Okay out of the FOUR crime/detective/thriller danmei novels I’ve read, the poyun and tunhai (below) series is the one that MIRRORS actual narcotics division and undercovers the best. It has the complexity and depth of the drugs/narcotics world, and both this one and its sequel focuses a lot on the position of an undercover and mole. I liked this one a lot because there are SOOOO many twists especially in the last arc, like you honestly won’t see any of them coming until it hits you? And Yan Xie is such a confident, rich-ass narcissist, and he keeps asking Jiang Ting if he can “just touch” him ONCE lmao, he’s thick-skinned af, but that’s why he and Jiang Ting are so compatible ;-;.

Available: Novel Online, Novel Print, Audio Drama and Manhua on Bilibili

8. 吞海 | Swallowing the Sea by 淮上

Summary: Sequel to Po Yun. Yu Wu is a young-looking new detective under Captain Bu Chong Hua’s narcotics team. Bu Chong Hua is Yan Xie’s cousin by actual relation, but brother in relationship because BCH’s parents died early and Yan Xie’s parents have been taking care of him mostly. He cannot stand Yu Wu, who seems to want to coast through at work and keep to a 9-5 work schedule.

It’s only after an altercation and Yu Wu dumping his nonchalant facade to snarl at BCH that he realizes that YW is actually more interesting and mysterious than he thought, and he begins to try to get close to him, understand him. It turns out that Yu Wu is a famous undercover who nearly died a year ago during an operation, and due to various reasons, he was assigned to BCH’s team by higher ups so he can peacefully live the rest of his life out there. However, his past catches up with him quickly, and his enemies turning up forces him to rely on BCH.

With BCH, Yu Wu’s resentment of having to be an undercover in the past and being so easily discarded by his team’s leaders, and of him being forced to be in the shadows while others can announce their achievements to the world, is slowly erased, because BCH sees him, knows him, and understands him more than anyone else.

My Thoughts: I actually liked this one better than the first one - Yu Wu is such a pouty, angry little thing?! And for good reason (there’s a bit of cannibalism in the book, not by choice when he was younger and in a poor village in Cambodia, where some militants forced survivors in the village to eat the meat of boiled corpses of other villagers, so YW is a vegetarian, like if he eats meat he gets really sick) and the twists here are even more amazing?! BCH really, really, devotes himself to YW the moment he realizes how much he likes him, doing a 180 degree turn. Instead of Yan Xie’s flamboyance, BCH is much steadier, grouchy, like an old uncle, but also looks at things even more clearly than Yan Xie does sometimes. Yu Wu is understandably bitter about what he had to go through, and BCH is the ONLY person who can calm him down, whom he listens to, which I LOVE. Some highlights:

Yu Wu grew up in a poor village and thus loves money, and he fights in underground betting rings to earn more money - The stash of hidden money he collects I think is half for his escape money, but if he happens to never need it, his dream is to donate the money to his village so they can open up a school there - ANYWAY because Yan Xie’s parents, and technically BCH’s ‘parents’ are soooooo rich right, Yan Xie’s mom shows her approval to her son-in-laws (Jiang Ting first, then Yu Wu), by giving them winter pants. It’s kind of like inside warmers, and usually meant for older ladies to wear LOLOL so Yu Wu was like staring at the pants when he finally got them and looked soooo reluctant until Jiang Ting told him it costs $6,000 AND HE WAS LIKE :333333 okie

He acts a lot like a kid?!! He likes eating like some snack but it’s really unhealthy for him, and BCH the mother hen keeps catching him in weird places like the toilet, where he’s hiding from BCH so he can eat his fave snack?! And the whole police station knows not to give YW what he wants in terms of snacks and smokes because once BCH finds out, he makes life very difficult for them HAHAHAHA

9. 穿成反派如何活命 | How to Survive as A Villain by 伊依以翼

Summary: Rich and handsome CEO Xiao Yu An finds out he has a terminal illness (cancer), and dies while he’s reading this online novel, where a king mistreats the crown prince from a neighbouring state which sent him over as hostage after losing a war, and ends up being killed by the crown prince years later (SVSSS much?!). He wakes up AS THE KING, and afraid of dying, he immediately goes about befriending the prince, Yan He Qing. Yan He Qing falls in love with Xiao Yu An while being his friend/hostage/bodyguard, and Xiao Yu An tries to avoid all the deaths he read in the book, while making sure Yan He Qing manages to find his three/four wives, including Xiao Yu An’s sister.

Of course, because Xiao Yu An showed him warmth and kindness, Yan He Qing ends up falling for him instead, and Xiao Yu An is an absolute oblivious idiot because he REALLY doesn’t realize until much later. Yan He Qing ends up declaring war on Xiao Yu An’s kingdom because he is duty bound to do so, but doesn’t hurt Xiao Yu An, wanting to keep him by his side, but YHQ’s scheming uncle drives a wedge between them, and XYA leaves, breaking YHQ’s heart.

They meet again a few years later, where XYA is training to be a physician in a small village and chances upon a severely injured YHQ. There, he realizes that it was all a misunderstanding, and that YHQ actually LIKES, LIKES him, but before they can enjoy this short period of happiness, disaster strikes again.

My Thoughts: THIS WAS really enjoyable, and with the manhua visuals, it is *chef’s kiss*. I think this transmigration version actually delved into the part where XYA is unable to change everything, and if he saves one person, someone else is destined to die, and that moral dilemma devastates him a lot. In this novel he actually transmigrates TWICE, once into the king’s body, and the second time into a neighbouring state’s prince/king’s body, who looks exactly like his modern self after. YHQ is real sweet to him istg, and I like that the epilogues are SUPER EXTENSIVE, including an arc where YHQ and XYA transmigrate back to the real world and everyone who died is alive and close to them, and gets their happy ending ;-;

Available: Novel Online and Manhua on Bilibili

#danmei rec list #stebeee recs #a sword of frost #your distance #swallowing the sea #breaking the clouds #kaleidoscope of death #High Energy QR Code #How to Survive as A Villain #The White Cat’s Divine Scratching Post

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saphirered · 3 years

Note

I’m in love with your writing and binged your entire page one night lol

Could I request a story with Caleb where the M9 find a wounded reader on the run from people who want to use her for her very powerful magical abilities. She doesn’t trust Caleb at first because he’s a wizard and just as she opens up to him and starts to develop feelings discovers he has been studying her powers - thought with no bad intentions. Some good old angsty enemies to lovers type of beat. Preferably with a good ending but do what you wish ;))

Apparently I'm giving you more stuff to binge as this is looking more and more like a several parter 😅. Prepare for loads of angst and conflict and some good hurt/comfort to come but for now, here comes part 1! 😘

Nobody pays attention to a vagrant dressed in rags, looking about a week past their last proper bath begging on the side of the road for money or standing by a shop, mouth watering at the food. Nobody pays attention to what they don’t want to see in their pristine cities. Not unless they want to chase you away because you’re in their way or you’re tarnishing their image. Speaking about image, sometimes some rich folk will take pity upon you, casting a coin your way to make themselves look good and generous in the eyes of others.

That’s exactly what you became when you needed to disappear. You needed to become unseen, unnoticed and a shadow among a crowd. You succeed casting away all remainders of your previous life because in the end, your life is worth more to you than your earthly possessions. Survival above all. You’ll live this way until you can get somewhere where no one will question you, or where you’ll be under the protection of others, far away where your enemies cannot reach you. Maybe Vasselheim is a good place to go? They’re not fond of the arcane magics. Sure you’ll have to give up using some of your own gifts but it’s worth being able to live your life freely.

You’re still a ways away from Vasselheim and you don’t have the funds to get there yet. Even if you make it to a port, stowing away on a ship is fine but you can’t trust them to not throw you overboard or leave you stranded at the nearest island to save provisions. And that’s if they don’t hand you over to any authorities and risk you getting back to square one. You’ll have to wander around Wildemount until you’re able to book passage or find somewhere to lay low, forever on the move. It’s not the worst and you get used to it pretty quickly.

Weren’t you lucky when you saw the recent champions of the Victory Pit were strolling around town flaunting their winnings. You need food. You need warm clothes. And most of all, you could do with some extra change in your pocket. You wouldn’t be stupid enough to steal all of it of course. Just enough to get by and they wouldn’t notice. So you trail them, sticking to the shadows. They don’t seem to notice you.

Then you struck. You got the coin pouch from the ostentatious one. It was child’s play really. He didn’t even notice you lifting the pouch from his belt when you brushed against his shoulder muttering an apology. You were already amidst the crowd when you heard the tiefling exclaim his coin pouch was gone and he put two and two together quickly, the charlatan he is so before you knew it they were on the lookout for someone fitting your description. You had to move quick, buy your necessities and get out of the market. You know just the place to hide out; the Evening Nip. Nobody asks questions there.

Once you found yourself safely sipping on the shitty ale served at the Evening Nip you didn’t expect the colourful group of strangers to stroll in. It was already too late when you spotted them and you had no where to go. Still your quickly gathered up the coin back into the ornate velvet pouch and put it in your own pocket hidden beneath the layers of your clothes putting your hands behind your back as you tried to make a break for the exit. They did not let you pass, a relatively buff looking woman gripping the handle of her sword stepping in front of you while another one, though shorter blocked your escape by interposing her staff.

“No funny business, friend. You have something that belongs to my companion here, and he wants it back.” The half-orc speaks as you grit your teeth. You’d really hoped to avoid this but you weren’t stupid enough to bring out the big artillery… yet… so you lift your hands in surrender and allow them to lead you over to one of the tables taking a seat of your own accord while you’re flanked by the buff woman on one side, the purple tiefling on the other and the rest of them takes up seating of their own around the table keeping an eye on you.

“Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way…” The half-orc leads as the tiefling next to you holds out his hand brushing his other over your shoulder in a soft push, mimicking what you had done when you pickpocketed him. Are they mocking you? Bastards.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, friend.” You speak innocently. You know they won’t buy it anyway, their minds already made up, but it gives you just a second more to get a grasp on all of them. You’re already plotting your escape, despite the odds being turned against you. You have to try.

“Oh, I think you do, and we simply want a conversation. You wouldn’t want to tarnish this new friendship now would you?” The tiefling grins as you look at him. You can feel the strings of enchantment pricking into your mind but you know how this works. You’ll just have to play along. You smile, like being faced with an old friend, just as the spell would have you have, letting your defensive mannerism fade.

“You’re quite right. It’s no way to treat new friends. Let’s not get off on the wrong foot.” You glance between all of them and you feel a pair of blue eyes stare into you, right through you. There’s just something about him that doesn’t add up and you’re almost afraid he knows you’re not under the tiefling’s spell after all but you do whatever you can to not show that on your face and play along.

“Should we get some drinks to commemorate new friends?” You suggest about to get up but the woman in blue’s staff moves across the table right onto your shoulder urging you to stay in place. You don’t look fazed and merely amused with this action as if it is a harmless joke and not a threat. The tiefling moves the staff from your shoulder as you turn your attention back to him as he smiles.

“I think that’s an absolutely wonderful idea. Drinks on me.” He stands with you and begins leading you over to the bar. Clive takes the order and begins pouring the ale as requested while the tiefling keeps conversation with you, completely oblivious and detached from his friends. You play along and when you reach to the coin pouch, you pull out the coins owed to the barkeep. The tiefling smiles and you can see from your peripheral the red head notices too. Both confirm you have the coin pouch. So once you pay you reach for your pocket grasping for a short iron rod placing it in your hand, whispering words under your breath as the tiefling talks to the barkeep, your hands begin to move according to the familiar motions and before the redhead can warn his lavender companion, the tiefling is frozen in place unable to move and you’re making a break for the door.

Spells fly left and right and you dodge a few, take the damage from others as the fighters dependant on close range rush for you. A crossbow bolt hits your thigh and a large cat’s claw appears in front of you. You try to dodge it reaching for you but it catches you and holds you in place despite your struggling to get free. They circle you, bind your hands, take back the coin pouch and your own limited belongings from you as you fight back trying to keep them away from you but you’re just alone and they are the many.

You feel helpless and desperate. That’s when you make eye contact with the blue eyed wizard. There’s a look of recognition in his eyes. Not for who you are directly, but the way you’re acting and lashing out, like some caged animal wishing desperately to be free, like a creature on the run, like you’re two sides of the same coin. His eyes reveal to you pain and suffering and pity but you don’t need his pity. You don’t need anyone’s pity.

“Why did you steal that coin?” The wizard asks as you glare at him from your seated position on the ground.

“Why does anybody steal anything? I’m hungry. I’m cold and I’m broke as hell.” You spit none too kindly.

“Then get a job. Make some money. Or at least learn to be a good thief.” The rude woman snorts. You roll your eyes. Typical. You know plenty of people like her, maybe you even used to be like her but not anymore. You grew out of that the hard way. She will too, in time.

“None of you noticed until you went to pay for something.” You grin and the woman is about to lunge for you at your provocation. So easy to piss that one off. Funny, actually.

“I don’t think she can just get a job. Not a regular one anyway.” The wizard observes as he stares into you. “You don’t have anywhere to go, do you?” Your silence, biting your lip says enough. You don’t have anywhere to go. Once you did but that’s gone. Torn away from you.

“How about this? You spent a good deal of my friend’s coin but we’ll give you the opportunity to make it back as a repayment. Stick around for a little bit and go our separate ways when the debt is repaid?” There’s some protests but the half-orc quiets them down when the wizard speaks up in your favour. He doesn’t trust you, not after the stunts you just pulled, especially not when the look on your face mirrors his own so closely but perhaps it’s something within him that calls to him to make right a wrong, or prevent another soul to be lost to the troubles he’s faced.

With these idiots bound to make a scene they’ll call attention to themselves and by default that means away from you. This might work in your favour. They’re adventurers and given that they seem somewhat familiar with the Evening Nip, you can only assume they’re not exactly always on the right side of the law. You’re not judging but that gives you some safety and assurance should things go south or you need a quick way out. And if things really do turn in your favour, they’ll be your cover to places and funds to get you far far away from this hell hole.

“Looks like you got yourselves a new companion then, friends.” You don’t smile, only displaying an expression so neutral that makes the wizard think for a second he might have made a mistake but for now you have mutual interests and if there’s anything he can count on, it’s the reliability of a common goal, and a lot to lose should you get outed.

So next you know, you’re somewhat absorbed into their little group, learning their names and where they’re from, chatting happily but you can’t help but notice that yours and Caleb’s stories are similar in some ways, mostly the lack of detail. You’ve been raised within the Empire, but found yourself on a less fortunate path fending for yourself. The only difference between you and him is that he found Nott on his path while you had remained alone. The group didn’t seem to mind your lack of details, going with the excuse you’re not about to bare your life story to the people you only just met and you’re lucky. You hadn’t told anyone what happened since you’ve been on the run and you don’t plan on doing so anytime soon, especially not to people who haven’t earned your trust yet.

Of course you’ve been roomed with Caleb and Nott, finding yourself in one of the most expensive inns in the city, paid for by the group. Unlike Nott, who goes through your stuff when she thinks you’re not looking, Caleb is the perfect roommate. He doesn’t cross any boundaries, ask too many questions or has any annoying habits. He just reclines on his bed, going through his spellbook, transcribing new spells to add to his own collection. Every time he does you get extremely uneasy and snappy and do whatever you can to not be in the same space as the wizard. It doesn’t do your roommate relationship any good and may leave you at odds at times. Caleb may not understand why but it’s not his place to ask questions, nor does he think you’ll actually answer them. Instead you make up excuses, helping Beau with training, letting Jester braid your hair, keeping Fjord company while Molly claims their room for one of his escapades, getting some booze for Nott, or when Yasha is there, watch the storms with the woman, anything to get you out of that shared room with the wizard.

————

Rain hits the window of your room in the Pillow Trove as the redheaded wizard strolls in throwing his backpack on his bed and sitting down with a deep sigh. You look up over the edge of the book you’re reading seeing the wizard soaked through the bone wringing out his hair best he can. With a wave of your hand and words uttered under your breath you grin as the water evaporates from Caleb’s form, leaving his hair slightly more curly and frizzy, and his clothes warm and comfy. He gives you a look as you continue reading as if you’re completely unaware of anything going on in the room, completely absorbed into your book. Ignoring Caleb.

“I didn’t take you for the type that reads smutty romance novels.” He comments and gestures towards Courting of the Crick. You finally look at Caleb as if he only just gained your attention, as if you’re only just aware of his presence in the room. Both of you know better but this is how it is.

“You wouldn’t. But according to Jester you enjoy them very much.” You grin, having gotten to hear all about their little trip to the Chastity’s Nook. Caleb gives you a disapproving look as he begins to unpack his things, taking out the fresh ink and paper, setting out his spellbook and you mark your page, putting the book on your side table as you quickly get up and go for the door.

“Where are you off to all of the sudden?” Caleb asks as you grit your teeth. Can he not just leave you alone? Does he really trust you so little you’re not allowed to leave of your own accord?

“I’m going to see Jester and Beau in their room. Now I will bid you good day unless you think I need an escort for the room two doors down.” You snap. Okay, that may have been unnecessary. You could have at least been neutral. Too late for that now. Caleb waves his and as if dismissing you. Act like a child, get treated like a child. So you leave the room letting the door fall closed a little harder than you normally would in protest and make your way over towards Beau and Jester’s room.

Jester, happily lets you in and while Beau has definitely warmed up to you, things are still rocky. She wouldn’t go as far as calling you a friend, but more that one neighbourhood kid her parents tried to get her to play with despite the two of you never really having been friends at all. At least you can bond over your slightly criminal tendencies. It’s Jester who’s completely accepted you as one of her own, questioning you about anything and everything, preaching to you about the Traveler, gushing about her romance novels, specifically Oskar, which you’re pretty sure is actually reflecting her major crush on Fjord but let the girl dream. Who knows what will come of it?

#critical role x reader #critrole x reader #mighty nein x reader #caleb widogast x reader #caleb x reader #critical role #mighty nein

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ererokii · 3 years

Text

— broken strings and beautiful melodies

diluc r. x f!reader

Word Count: 9.6k Warnings: major character death, mentions of violence, mentions of blood, gore, this does not follow the og plot and lore/ some spoilers for “We Will be Reunited” Archon Quest Note: this is for Attack On Academia’s Mythology Summer Collab! Please be sure to check out the masterlist for everyone else’s works. They all worked super hard and it turned out amazing! And big thanks to @reddriot and @axther for betaing <3

Synopsis: A simple love story between the Pyro Archon, and a mortal.

taglist || masterlist || server link || collab masterlist

Another four days pass and it’s finally Friday. Fridays at Angel’s Share were no different from the ones prior. Exhausted adventurers and townspeople venture inside the tavern to drink their woes away, to forget, or to have a great time. It was annoying, to say the least—hearing the laughter and cheers bouncing off the walls.

However, Diluc had to say nothing was worse than a certain pigtail braided bard strutting in with his lyre. The redhead had no choice but to serve the bard his choice of drinks after figuring out his true identity (although he still makes him pay the whole total—even if the singer can’t find a way to pay).

Like before, the bartender lifts his head up, crimson eyes boring into the crowd gathering beside the bard at the nearby table.

The bard’s soft voice matches with the melody of his lyre, fingers pulling and gracefully sliding past the strings. His eyes closed, telling a story to the nearby peers and the quiet man standing behind the counter. A tale Diluc heard once, yet it weighed on him all the same.

“The story of this archon is no better than the rest, yet, the most tragic comes from the debris of war. The god of War was like no other. Loads of strength, yet grief and sorrows weigh him down like an anchor in the vast ocean. Love is a mere factor, yet love is one of the many things the god brought ruin to.”

With heavy footsteps, a red-haired male walks along the dirt path in no shoes, wearing the silkiest of robes one could ever obtain. He hums to himself, brushing a loose strand of hair away from his face, letting out a huff of annoyance when it falls right back into the same position as before.

He breathes in the crisp air of the summer night, relishing the winds that brush across his skin. Summers in Natlan were one of a kind. While it was scorching in the morning, when the night came around, all was calm. The harsh rays turned into blissful winds that cleansed the land of heat.

During the other seasons, it was never too cold, nor was it ever too hot. The temperature was just right for all men, women and children.

Located in the southwestern region of Teyvat, Natlan was home to the Pyro Archon, known as The God of War. The god, Murata, is unlike any other god. Ruthless and fierce, he does not handle any threat lightly. Anything thrown his way, he does not hesitate. With kindness and love, Murata will no doubt protect his nation.

His statues are scattered across the land. Standing with his formal rags and cloak that shields his face, Murata holds his claymore in his right hand, the tip pointing down to symbolize his foes beneath him as he celebrates in victory.

In the night sky, his statues act like lights to guide those on safe journeys home or to neighboring nations. Along with being guides, the structures are used for a place of reverence. Often many would journey far and wide to pay thanks for everything he has done.

In the center lies the biggest of them all, flowers and candles are set up around it for ceremonial purposes. Every night new plants were replaced for the days to come. Like the other Archons, Murata was grateful for his people. When roaming the land, he spots commoners on their knees by the base of the statue during the late of night or the crack of dawn. Not wanting to disturb, the archon watches from afar.

Today is different. Murata continues to walk along the path, listening to the noises coming from the forest animals and the creeks as the waters begin to rush at this hour of the night. He can’t help but let out the faintest of hums at the sounds of nature.

He reaches for the side of his face, tucking a red strand behind his ear. Often the god will put his hair up into a low or high ponytail, but for outings in the cool atmosphere, he prefers to wear it down. His powers were compared to his hair many times. When describing his appearance, he listens to the children exaggerate saying his hair is literal flames that he can produce from the palm of his hands. Of course, this is nowhere near true, but a child’s imagination is quite amusing.

In the distance, his crimson hues bore straight ahead at the small flickering light.

“Someone must be up now,” he whispers to himself, debating on leaving them alone but instead, chooses to go up ahead and observe from a closer proximity. Muratans knew what their god looked like. He comes out during the day to pay visits but never for long periods of time.

As quick as they see him, it's as quick as they’ll see him leave. No one can ever hold his attention for too long.

The sound of strings being played can be heard from his spot-- and he halts. A lyre, one of his favorite pastimes and favorite instruments.

Over the hill is a figure sitting beside the statue, back turned to him but he can see the movement of their arm. Curious, Murata continues to stalk forward quietly, not wanting to disturb the worshipper.

The melody played is show-stopping in his eyes. He wonders if Celestia had sent down someone he was unaware of to play this just for him, and only him. If anything, he could settle on the grass and listen to them play for ages on end, wearying his immortal days out. Music was the only thing that could settle him, but not forever.

Now, he's a mere few steps away from the cloaked figure. His face is lit up by the candles by his feet. His tongue peeks out of his lips as an unknown feeling bursts through his body. His palms felt sweaty and his heart rate increased.

He winces when the wrong note is played, gritting his teeth together. The redhead doesn’t think much until a force pushes him backward.

“W-Why are you standing there watching me?! Don’t you know this place is meant for us to come together, not to be creepy like you just were right now?!”

“W-What?” he whispers in surprise, bringing a hand to cover his nose that suddenly feels wet. He pulls away, noticing the red drops on his skin. Blood.

“Don’t question me that way! You know exactly what you were doing… A pig is what you are. Oh, just you wait until Murata finds out about this.”

“Murata huh?” he questions, wiping his hand on the grass, watching the blood dissolve into nothing-- the red trails of blood trickling down his nose come to an unsuspecting halt.

He clears his throat and comes to stand, staring down at the figure behind him. With the candlelight, a glimpse of crimson eyes and matching hair can be seen. In a matter of seconds, it's silent. Until there is a subtle gasp.

It amuses the Archon greatly to see a change in behavior and the fear present in the civilian's eyes. He wouldn’t dare try anything to her, but maybe it would lighten the mood if he did.

With desperate breaths of air, you reach forward and grab ahold of the man's hands, squeezing as hard as you could. “M-My Lord, I deeply apologize for my behavior! Please forgive me! I was foolish!”

“No need to be formal all of a sudden…mistakes are made and all can be forgiven. I must say, you are quite gifted with that instrument in your hand.”

Your face heats up, suddenly finding the ground much more interesting than him as you gaze down. Your god had just complimented you and yet here you are losing the composure you had seconds ago.

“Thank you,” you whisper, hand clutching the lyre close to your chest. “It’s an honor to hear such wonderful words, especially coming from you.”

Murata stares down, an unexplainable look upon his face. Then, he smiles.

“Your name?”

“Pardon?”

“What is your name? As someone as gifted as you, I think you deserve to have your name remembered.”

“My name is Y/N. For some reason, your kind words seem to boost my confidence. I normally don’t play in front of people, I’m too shy and afraid of their judgement. I only like to play in front of the statue… or in this case, you.”

“How about you play for me again?”

The angelic sounds of your lyre had been played more often since you’ve met the god. The night was when you shined, when no one was around to listen or stare at you. The dark sky made you feel alone, yet you were at peace. You found pleasure in playing for the Pyro Archon statue, yet having him sitting beside you and listening made your heart beat just a bit more than before.

During the day, you find yourself sitting under the big oak trees, the sunlight peeking through the leaves and shining upon you two. Murata lays close to you, eyes shut and lashes resting against his upper cheeks as the song lulls him to a quick nap or a state of serenity.

He’ll comment on a subtle note, saying how he loves the pitch, or give recommendations. Many times Murata has taken your instrument and played a tune or two for you. He says every gentleman should at least know how to serenade a lady.

As a child, your family spoke highly of him. They even used him as a threat against you when you’ve done something wrong. Now that you look back, it was a mere hoax and it possibly scarred you just a bit. When you first told Murata this, he stared with his lower lip quivering before his shoulders started to shake and then, he let out a laugh.

“Surely you didn’t believe that, right?”

“I did! I was a child, what else was I supposed to do?! I nearly wet my sheets when my mother told me that you would come and scare me!”

“Well come on now, are you still scared?”

He enjoys seeing you worked up—then again, he loves seeing you play the lyre. He stays quiet and watches your fingers move as if they had a mind of their own. You move with grace, without hesitation. There is no wrong note, no wrong string when you play. Sometimes being here with you in this moment made him feel like he was mortal. Like he was able to live freely.

Being bound to divinity in Celestia, Murata had wandered Teyvat for ages, alone. Each person he had gotten close to, he had to watch them disappear from this world in the shadows. At some point, he even had to pretend to be lost so others could forget about him. If they forgot about Murata, would the load be easier on the Pyro Archon’s shoulder?

But now, you’re aware of his status and who he truly is. If you were to stay by his side, would he be the last thing you see before you pass into the next life? He’s not sure, but he’s hoping that won’t be true. He couldn’t bear with the guilt that will get him worked once more at the thought of another mortal dying in front of his eyes.

“Murata?” you ask one afternoon, sitting by the same statue you met him for the first time. “What’s it like?”

He steers his gaze away from the clouds and onto you, an eyebrow raised in question. “What is what like?”

“You know—” you start, messing with the material of your dress, head lowered. “Being a god?”

And then he freezes. Out of all the questions you could have possibly asked, this one had to be the most unexpected.

“Why do you wish to know something like that?”

“I want to know what it’s like. Immortality and eternal beauty sound pretty amazing, doesn’t it?”

“No,” he immediately states, sitting upright. His body looks tense, posture perfect and hands in his lap. However, you notice the small twitch in his fingers, as if he’s thinking. You can hear the heaviness in his breathing—lips parted as the air slips in and out of his mouth.

How can living on this earth for years on end, watching people die in front of you like they are meaningless, be perfect? Is that what people thought about immortality? The faces of past friends from ages ago are nothing but a blob of color in his mind. He can’t remember their faces, nor their voices—only the memories they have shared, and even that is starting to fade away.

Murata cleared his throat, eyes fluttering shut. His chest heaved up slowly, before falling at the same rate. Soon, he opens his eyes and faces you. He reaches up and tightens his high ponytail, running his fingers through the red tresses. “The life of an immortal is not...ideal.”

“There comes a time where living forever is not as good as it seems. A human like yourself might think differently since there is an end to everyone’s journey. Death is inevitable for a human, and almost all are afraid of the end itself. Even… I am afraid there will be a time I will be cursed with that end. But for now, that’s something that rarely crosses my mind..”

And he continues. Murata proceeds to tell you about the drawbacks of being a God. When he speaks, you can see pain flash across his eyes as he recalls a memory of a loving friend who passed before him. He tells you there’s no avoiding this never ending nightmare. If there was a way he could overcome this spell of immortality, he would choose mortal life in an instant.

He believes nothing good comes with this. In his eyes, everything gets destroyed by his hands. If he hadn’t created this nation, he wouldn’t be here with you, nor would he have people at his feet who love and worship him for everything—for giving them a home. He would be a traveler with no home, or loved ones.

The Archon doesn’t realize how much of his thoughts he spilled until he feels the warmth of another—your hand resting upon his cheek. This alerts him as he jolts, eyes wide as he stares at you. You wear a small smile, head cocked to the side. Your thumb moves on its own, wiping the tear away that dribbles down the swell of his face.

His body relaxes, shoulders slouching as he relishes your touch, not having been caressed by another, let alone a human. If he’s being honest, it's been at least a century since he has gotten close to another mortal. It’s a foreign feeling, but he loves it nonetheless.

Your soft spoken words are enough for him to be at ease.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to continue through the suffering.”

In a vulnerable state, the tears continue to flow down his face, arms slithering around your body as he pulls you in close. At first the motion shocks you, but soon you return the action, hand resting on the small of his back and by his head, stroking the soft locks. You can hear the faint sobs that escape his lips and it’s strange. From stories, they state Murata was fierce, barely any emotion in him.

But he looks nothing more than a broken man in need of comfort.

You press your lips against his head, humming softly to him. His arms tighten around you, a shaky breath slipping past. As much as Murata hates this feeling, but after being alone for as long as Teyvat had been founded, he thinks he deserves to be this close to someone again.

After moments of silence, the god is positioned beside you, hand resting on your thigh and head on your shoulder. His eyes feel heavy, the area feeling irritated and scratchy from his crying. As much as the thoughts still swirl in his head, they seem to be drowned out by the melody you play for him.

He lazily draws organic shapes with the pad of his finger on your skin, eyes beginning to close.

Your lyre is one of the few beautiful things he has come across in his lifetime. You currently hold the number one spot for the most beauty he has seen but when you sit with your instrument, he swears he can see the wings of an angel behind you.

He steers his gaze from the lyre to your face, eyes taking in the small details of your visage. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips as he notices the slip of your tongue peek from your lips, eyebrows creasing in concentration. Along with the melodies, he listens to your small hums as you play a song just for him-- one of worship and love.

His hand runs up your arm, halting your movements at once. Eyes opening, you stare forward for a second before looking down upon him. He recognises your confusion and lets out a laugh, hand trailing up before his thumb rests on your chin, making you keep your gaze on him.

Your face heats up at this interaction, mouth parted. Your breathing becomes uneven when you notice the close proximity. Your stomach flutters, the back of your throat suddenly going dry—no words able to slip through. His chest rises and falls just as quick as your own.

His tongue peeks through, licking his lower lip. His crimson hues stare at your lips before averting his gaze to your eyes. As much as it’s tempting, now is not the right time.

“Beautiful,” he whispers quietly, for your ears only. “So beautiful… like an angel sent down from the divine...”

- The lyre, made of nature’s resources and carved into the most adoring shapes—the ends curving in different directions and a piece of excess wood piercing straight through the middle with a pointed tip and a rounded end. Made for the best, the lyre contains seven strings that seem to glow throughout the day and the night.

In the middle, an emerald gem shines embedded on the wood, reflecting the rays of the sun, sparkling for all to see. Around lies the detail of the sun, the soft yellows encircling it. And just beneath that is gold details that resemble the wings of those who are free. Two flowers that are foreign to the land of Natlan are delicately engraved—their colors showing pure innocence.

The Cecilia flowers stay in bloom, never once dying out. Nor has any other grown in their place.

A perfect instrument, one of elegance and purity. Perfect for you.

The origins of said lyre are unknown, yet when it was given to you as a young child, you didn’t dare question it. Instead, you took it with the biggest grin and thanked your father as many times as you could. You were intelligent and extremely talented. At first, your mother was skeptical of such an object being in the possession of an nine year old, but your father assured it was in safe hands.

Since then, it’s been by your side to this day. It’s never been out of your grasp and you only let certain trusted people play it. For some reason, seeing others hold the instrument made you feel weird.

Playing your gift made you feel like you were above the world, like you could ascend to Celestia and play for the gods. It felt as if some sort of divine power surged through your veins and riled you up. And now at the ripe age of 24, having the Pyro Archon by your side as you play for him daily, it feels as if your purpose of living has been complete.

Seeing his soft smile and slight nods he gives when he's impressed (which is all the time) or when he places his hand on yours to play along with you. Having him close to you makes you feel warm, excited and giddy; almost like a young girl in love.

Which... You won’t lie to yourself about that.

There have been times during the day where you catch yourself thinking about the red head. Thoughts of him swirl your head as you drift off to sleep and he’s the first thing you think about in the morning. Sometimes you notice that you make motions in the air, like you are stroking something, when in reality, you wish to have his head in your lap again as you play with the loose ends of red tresses.

The god was just so breathtaking. Staring into his eyes was mesmerizing. The color of flames held in his eyes drew you in so far, it felt as if you were walking through a pit of flames. Yet, these flames never extinguished or brought harm to you.

“You’re lost in thought again,” Murata comments, poking your shoulder with his pointer finger. “You alright there? I don’t need you tripping over a rock or something.”

“Huh?” you ask, glancing over at him. “O-Oh it was nothing. I’m okay.” You offer a not so convincing smile, scratching the nape of your neck in embarrassment. Knowing you for a while, the god offers a nod and looks forward, his hands behind his back, steps in sync with yours.

You let your hand drop, clearing your throat as you hum, filling the silence with some noise. Your eyes wander around the area before gazing up at the tall man beside you. You take notice how the ends of his ponytail sway side to side with every step he takes.

The apple of your cheeks heat up when you can see his back muscles flex as he straightens his posture. The shirt he wore let your imagination run wild; there was no doubt that Murta was built.

“It’s quite rude to stare,” Murata says out of nowhere, barely glancing over at you. “If you want, I can just stand in front of you so you can actually look at me face to face.”

“Oh be quiet,” you mutter, stepping forward and grabbing hold of his hand—his much larger, covering yours entirely. Upon contact, his fingers intertwined with yours, squeezing softly.

“You know I love messing with you,” he hums, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple, which you respond back to him with a quiet “I know.”

The rest of the walk is filled with comfortable silence. It’s a bit chilly in the land of Natlan. One of the many summer days that turn out to be filled with crisp air and cloudy skies. Storytellers always said if it were cloudy during the season of summer, karma and misfortune was on the way—yet no one believed such lies like that.

His hand is so warm, you think, glancing down at your conjoined hands. Ever since that day by the giant stone statue of the god where you almost kissed him, his behavior towards you changed drastically. He’s been a bit more touchy (not that it bothered you; in fact, you loved it), holding your hand and somewhat more affectionate. At the end of your day when you would say goodbye, he would pull you close and plant a gentle kiss to your cheek or sometimes even close to your lips.

Just thinking about those actions makes you flustered, looking away from him and out to the open.

“What do you think it means to be in love?”

Hearing those words from the man beside you causes you to choke on your saliva, hitting your chest to calm your ongoing coughs. When you’re finally composed, you gasp for air and stare at him in shock. “W-What do I think about that?”

“Mhm.” He nods, inhaling deeply, his other hand reaching up into the air as if he was stretching before lowering it. “What do you think it means to be in love? I’m curious as to what you humans think it might be.”

“I-” You gulp, eyes semi wide as you try to wrack your brain for anything. That was not a question you were expecting, especially right now. “W-Why do you want to know? Isn’t love, love?”

“Well, aren't there different ones? Can’t people be in love with parts of someone? Lets say, only being in love with someone for their status in the nation. Or just their looks but not for them.

“Well… I think being in love with someone means you don’t care about their status or who they look or who they are.”

“Even if they’re a god?”

“Even if they’re a god.” you say confidently, before realizing what he said. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Even if they’re a god,” he repeats, stopping in his tracks as he turns to face you. His cheeks are painted with soft pink, red eyes averting from you.

Murata’s heart is racing, far faster than it ever has in his life. HIs lips are dry, his mouth is parched. His shoulders heave with every deep breath he takes. Does the sweat of his hands bother you? God, he feels like a young boy about to confess his love to a girl he’s been pining over—although he's not completely wrong.

“Murata, what’s wrong?” you ask quietly, tilting yourself a bit to look up into his eyes as his head is lowered. “Are you okay?”

“Why are you so intoxicating?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Y-You’re all I can think of,” he stutters, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t get you out of my mind, even though I shouldn’t get close to those I love and care for. In the end, I’ll be here and be forced to live with this overweighting guilt that rests upon my shoulders as time continues to flow knowing that you’ll be dead.”

A hiccup gets caught in the back of his throat, his thoughts becoming foggy all of a sudden. “I don’t like this feeling. I absolutely despise it. Many times after we hung out, I thought about disappearing again like I have before I got too close to anyone again. But I can’t let you go, nor will these memories ever go away.”

“Don’t you understand?” he whispers, hand shaking as his grip becomes tighter. “I can’t lose you… you’re too special to me already. I know there will be a day where we part ways forever but I want to be a part of your journey until then.”

His confession throws you for a loop. His words continue playing over and over in your head like a song you learned the night prior. You have this unexplainable feeling in your chest, yet it warms up as the seconds pass. Your whole body feels tingly, from the top of your head to the tip of your toes.

Your quietness is too much for him to handle right now—a bit silly if you were to ask the Archon himself. “Say something,” he mutters, shaking your hand lightly. The redhead can already feel the rejection pooling in the depths of his stomach, eating away at him.

“You... Do you love me?” you whisper, looking up at him with doe like eyes. Murata can’t seem to answer for himself, one hand cupping your cheek. He moves closer, his breath fanning your face. The flames in his eyes gaze into yours, losing himself in the color before he averts down to your lips. A quiet way of asking for consent.

You lean forward, lips barely brushing against his. It’s shy between the two of you. After having such strong feelings for each other, neither of you know how to proceed. No one moves, it feels time has stopped.

You feel him pull away slightly before going back in, his lips fully pressed against yours. His other hand drops yours, instead wrapping his arm around your lower back. Your chest pressed up against his, your finger runs up his side, to the top of his shoulder and around, cradling the back of his neck.

His finger tightens around the material of your coat you wore for the day, using it as leverage to keep you standing. His kisses are soft yet fierce. The softness of his lips and his scent up close are enough to drive you insane, enough to make your knees buckle and make you want more. You want more of him, Murata.

A small grunts leaves his mouth when you tug on his hair. In return, he nibbles on your lower lip, chuckling at the small noise you produce from his motion. It’s becoming harder to breathe as you stay in this position with him. If air wasn’t a necessity, you wouldn’t go for it.

You pull away from him, panting softly as you gaze up into his eyes. His eyes hold nothing but love and adoration as he peers down at you. The corners of his lips curve upward as he leans in, barely presses against yours again before pulling away. He sneaks in a few quick pecks, listening to your quiet laughter.

“Of course I love you.” He makes you look up at him, your face cradled in his hands as if he was holding something delicate, something that could be wrecked and destroyed any second. “That’s why I asked you what you thought about it.”

“And I love you too,” you reply softly. “I thought.. After everything you wouldn’t want to have feelings like this, let alone a human.”

“Sometimes boundaries are meant to be broken if it means true happiness.”

“Tensions have arisen in the land of Natlan. Nearby gods have caused quite the stir, causing Murata to put it to a halt at once. Upon ascending to his seat in Celestia, there have been prophecies saying a great misfortune is underway and can arrive in an instant. Since then, he’s been worked up. He cares much about his nation and will let no harm come its way.”

The bard strums the string before growing silent, letting his head hang forward, his pigtails falling in his face. “It’s a true shame that such a horrid thing came to be… If only he was strong enough as he said he was.”

Murmurs arise from the drunken peers, hiccups joining the air as they beg him to continue the song. Even if some wouldn’t remember this night in the morning, this was still enough entertainment.

“W-What happened next, bard?! Finish it!” an adventurer gasps, holding his cup of alcohol close to his chest, his cheeks heated and a light pink.

“You wish to know?” the bard asks, peeking through his lashes, his two toned eyes staring into the soul of the bartender. “Why of course!” he laughs cheerfully then clears his throat, batting his eyelashes as he brings his hand to his chest.

“Although, I’m quite parched and would love to have another cup of Dandelion Wine! What do you say, Master Diluc?”

“My answer is no. Do not ask me for something when you will not pay in the end.”

“Agh what a shame,” the bard sighs, letting his head hang back but never breaking eye contact with the redhead. “Don’t you wish to know about the ending?”

“I could care less.” Diluc speaks through gritted teeth, arms crossed over his chest, the infamous pose he does every hour of the day. “I just want you out of here.”

“I’ll pay for him!” one of the nearby men yell, fumbling with his wallet to grab the gold circles of currency to give to the bartender—and all the bard can do is smile cheekily, opening his hand.

“Well, looks like the drink is paid for. Can I have it now, Master Diluc?”

The red head, already annoyed with the behavior of the young man in front of him, reluctantly takes the coins from the drunk. Without speaking, he serves the singer his desired drink, noticing the small smirk he wears. “Why are you smiling at me like that?” he asks, eyeing him up and down.

“Because I’m getting to my favorite part.” He takes a sip of his drink and places the cup back down. After a pleasant sigh is heard from him as he takes hold on his lyre, stroking the white petals of the Cecilia flowers. “And you’re gonna love it.”

- Melodies of the lyre were played even during the darkest of times. The soft notes were enough to make anyone who felt down happy again, or at least content, even yourself. The colors of the strings being played was enough to put you at ease. Sometimes when you’re out in the town, many children would ask you to play their favorite song or at least a simplified version if you weren’t familiar with it.

But as of now, all of Teyvat was in ruin. Murata had told you the truth; he hated keeping you in the dark when you deserved to know. As much as he disliked saying this, your life indeed was on the line, more than his. In fact, the whole nation was at risk, along with the other six neighboring ones.

From other Archons, Murata heard that a water monster, Osial, had arisen and was ready to ruin and kill innocents for the sake of a seat in Celestia. Morax, who was the overseer of Liyue at the time, was trying his best to seal the beast with his spears.

In this case, Murata hopes a threat like this doesn't happen to Natlan. Especially when he’s not there to protect his people, to protect you.

Murata hears a gush of wind from behind him and the earth beneath him starts shaking. He wipes the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, small puffs of air slipping out of his mouth. He reaches above and tugs on the black hood of his cape.

His archon outfit consists of silk white pants and black sleeveless shirt that resembled a vest with a slit down the middle of his torso. And to top it, a black cape flows behind, the hood covering his face from all to see. In his right hand, his fingers curl around the handle of his claymore.

A heavy burden rests upon his shoulders as he stares forward, seeing the world erupt into flames and utmost chaos. In the distance, he can hear the screams and cries of the families asking for mercy. He wonders what you would think about him if you were to see him right now.

“Murata,” you whine, trailing the last syllable of his name as his lips peck against the bare skin of your shoulder. “Come on, you know that tickles.”

“Yeah? Maybe I’ll continue to do it,” he muses, nipping at your skin before blowing warm air onto your neck which causes you to squirm from him, pressing your hands against his chest. He listens to your soft laughs, loving the way your body moves under his touch. Your arms wrap around his neck, hugging him close as you hum, inhaling the scent you’ve grown to love.

“Mmm… I love you.”

“And I love you too,” Murata whispers to no one, blinking rapidly when he realizes he was lost in thought and was not in fact with you, but only remembering a moment from a few days ago. In reality, here he stands in the middle of a deserted land that must be destroyed. Blood is on his hands, splattered on his face.

“I didn’t even want to do this,” he mutters, grinding his teeth together as he proceeds to walk forward, watching red explosions burst from the ground, red blocks protruding from either ends of the nation. In the sky, the color purple takes over as lightning strikes down from the heavens and is brought forth onto the land.

From his position, the ground had been cracked and was on the edge of being split apart if another Archon had used their powers against the nation.

He lifts his claymore in the air, staring up at the red sky with anguish. His lips part as he whispers something to himself, reassuring that what he is about to do is alright and isn’t his fault. A sudden strike of his weapon pierces the land, flames bursting into the air and cracking the earth.

Murata breathes heavily, leaning on the rounded edge of his weapon. Sweat trickles down his face, the hood falling off of his head. Two strands of hair fall forward, framing his face, the rest of it tied back into a low ponytail.

The flames continue to run down the cracks which branch to smaller ones that cause the piece of rock beneath the surface to crumble and fall, leaving the terrain to become uneven.

“Wow! Even from afar I can spot you,” a semi high pitched says from behind him. The Pyro Archon stiffens, internally groaning as he stares over his shoulder, meeting two green eyes. “Someone doesn’t look happy as he used to be.”

“Barbatos,” Murata grumbles, looking forward as he straightens his posture. With one hand, he picks his hood over his head once more and the other pulls his claymore from the ground, resting it on his shoulder. “What do you want from me now?”

“Just letting you know Morax has finished in the south region of Khaenri'ah,” Barabtos states, a frown growing on his lips as he looks away, the tips of his toes barely touching the ground as his wings keep him afloat. “You're not the only one who didn’t want this. We had no choice.”

“No choice huh…” He trails off, his claymore suddenly evaporating into thin air and gold dust left in its wake. “How are we loving, protecting gods if we just obliterated this nation with no god? What does that make us? We’re no better than those who do us wrong against our own homeland. We’re just like Decarabian. Nothing but tyrants.”

“Don’t bring up that name again.”

“Why? Because deep down you know it's true.”

“Because that was his own choice to keep us entrapped. We had no choice but to bring ruin. They felt-” Barbatos hesitates, licking his lower lip before continuing, “-they felt threatened. A nation with no god is a false one to Celestia. Everything must be in order. Khaenri’ah was not the case. We had to, or we’re next. The divine is not ready for a land with no god.”

“I shouldn’t have come.”

“Murata. If you hadn’t, who knows what would have happened to Natlan.” A deeper voice from behind him is heard, the sound of footsteps becoming louder before they stop beside him. “You and your people would have been in grave danger.”

“Unlike you, I don’t need to keep making contracts.”

Morax chuckles lightly, shaking his head, his ponytail swaying with the movement. “And how does that look on you, God of War?”

Murata shakes his head, refusing to look at the Anemo Archon and the Geo Archon. “War or not, this is not just. The victors burn bright and the losers turn to ash. This-” he motions to the now deserted land of dust and blood. The sky is a deep red, the sun or moon nowhere to be seen. The earth is uneven, mountains caving into the ground as streaks of dark colors emit from the ground.

The spot the three archons stand upon is nothing but cracked ground, an empty space separating them and the rest of the debris.

“This is not war.”

Even when he’s not in his right mind, the only thing that can put him to ease comes up, suddenly soothing his woes away. He closes his eyes, envisioning he’s somewhere else

“You’re so pretty,” you whisper in the god’s ear, twirling a strand of hair around your finger with a smile. “No wonder you’re a god. How could they not take you?”

“Please. You flatter me too much.” He grabs hold of your wrist, bringing it to his face, planting a kiss to it. “On the contrary, it should be you in my position. No, an angel is what you are.”

“An angel? Please, enlighten me.”

Murata shifts on his side to stare down at you, brushing the baby hairs from your face. A blanket covers your bodies from your previous intimate sessions, yet he remembers every curve, every flaw that’s perfection to his mind. “I mean, look at you. You’re too beautiful for this world.”

“Am I now?”

He nods, dipping his head slightly. The tip of his nose brushing against yours. “You are. You’re amazing. You’re everything in this world. You’re desirable but most importantly... you’re divine.”

“Wow, now I’m flattered.”

He smiles, the corners of his eyes creasing as he presses his lips against yours in a soft kiss. It lasts for a few seconds but it feels as if it goes on for years. When he pulls away, you cup his cheek. “And you are ethereal.”

The god shakes his head lightly with a sigh, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. You’re all he can think about. Even when he is busy taking away innocent lives and watching them get turned into monsters, the sweet image of your face continues to pop into his mind. You’re the light in the dark.

He hates the feeling of being away from you, especially when he’s on close watch from Celestia. There’s something unsettling in the pit of his stomach that he can't quite put his finger on it. Murata watches Morax and Barbatos exchange a few words before he gasps, lifting his head up fast. “Natlan. It’s in danger.”

- The nation of Natlan, located in the southwestern region of Teyvat and home to the Pyro Archon, was under attack. There was no point in trying to save them, they were already too far gone. No god in sight yet the trails of monsters were left behind. Did the Archon truly love them like they said he did? Or was it all a lie to get people’s love?

The once beautiful land is ruined—looking like the one he destroyed not long ago. His statues that aided his people on their journeys far and wide were now broken and cracked. Chunks of stone litter the ground and crush nearby civilians. Whoever was standing beside those statues had been brought down along with them, no way to return.

The god feels weak in the knees as he staggers over the dirt path that has noticeable traces of dried blood. No doubt from his people. Where are the bodies? He has no clue.

Houses have been torn apart, the roofs blown off and thrown into the field of flowers on the other side. He feels torn at heart. He wants to give up walking, already knowing the outcome but refuses to stop. He hopes that a few people, even just twenty people, can still be alive and he can move them somewhere else.

The night is cold and fresh as it was years ago. Only this time, the sounds of the animals in the creek aren’t heard and the wildlife is quiet. He looks towards the forest, hoping a deer or a boar will rush through the trees. But his hopes die when he notices that's not happening, and the habitat is burnt to ashes.

“Somebody,” he croaks out, averting his eyes upward and freezes. Up ahead, in the center lies the biggest statue of them all, where flowers and candles are set up around it for ceremonial purposes. Every night new plants were replaced for the days to come.

The most beautiful statue in all of Natlan has been crushed. The head of the statue is gone from the area (he can only assume it had been tossed across the nation or into the river). The candles are no longer intact, the pieces scattered and buried into the burnt grass.

“No,” he whispers lowly before crying out, running towards it. His heart races as he steps closer and closer. All his worries and fears; he doesn’t want them to be real. He doesn’t want any of this to be real. He wants to be at home.

You.

Where are you?

He gasps for air and drops to his knees. Red eyes frantically search along the stone pieces. He plants his hands on the ground and hisses upon contact, retracting back. A rock share pierced his skin. Murata bites his lower lip as he shakes his hand, watching the piece fly off before he can continue looking.

Are you safe at home? You were, right? Surely you wouldn't come out when everything is being attacked, right? Yeah, that’s it. You’re safe at home waiting for him to return. Waiting for him to be in your arms so you can cry about your fears of losing your life and him.

And by the end he’ll calm you down, say soothing words into your ear as he holds you close, saying he’ll never leave like that again and stay with you forever. God or not, immortal or not, he plans to stay by your side.

And then your lyre will be played for you and only you. He knows your favorite melodies. Oh so beautiful, he loves hearing you play them but this time, he’ll play for you until the end of time.

Your lyre-

He freezes.

His hand hits something underneath the stone. Something smooth like wood and the prick of an object with a pointed tip—an all too familiar feeling.

With a grunt, he grabs ahold and heaves back, pulling it out from under the rubble. A surge of fear flows through his veins when he falls back, holding an object in his hands.

It’s a cracked lyre, with pieces broken off where an emerald stone originally would have laid. The gold trinkets are ripped right off, the empty space now feeling dull. He notices the seven strings have now turned to three and aren’t holding their original color that glows.

The only thing that’s untouched, however, are the Cecilia flowers. Not a hint of blood stains the white petals.

His eyes grow wide when he gazes somewhere else, spotting a hand peeking out from the same spot he pulled the lyre from. A choked cry gets stuck in the back of his throat when it all clicks together.

You weren’t home like he thought you would have been. You weren’t waiting for him to return from his wages of war, to be in his arms. Instead, you did what you always did.

Worshipped Murata, under the ceremonial statue.

The one that caused your death.

Tears well up in his eyes as he hugs the lyre close to his chest, mouth parting as a sob slips out. He rocks himself back and forth, shaking his head at this false reality but he knows this is all real.

Murata babbles to himself, muttering things underneath his breath as he hyperventilates. He can’t catch his breath. His throat is closing in on him, the air too thick to even breathe right now.

The tears blur his vision. He can’t see nor think straight anymore. The god of War was unable to save his people from the hardships of an incoming war. What kind of god was he? Was he even one? Or was he now a false one?

What seems to be years later, though it only is an hour or so, Murata finds himself standing on the edge of a cliff, dried up tears evident on his face. The whites of his eyes are red, the tip of his nose matching the same color.

He sniffles, nose stuffed from the moments earlier. His breathing hasn’t changed a bit. His shoulders still shake with every inhale. The atmosphere around him is tense, maybe even too quiet for his liking.

Behind him, he refuses to look back on the destruction he let happen. Even from a far enough distance, he can still clearly hear the crackling of fire and the sounds of a nation dying.

He lowers his hand from his chest, spreading his fingers open. In a matter of seconds, the handle of his weapon appears slowly, the rest of the claymore following suit in gold dust.

He peers down slightly, watching the red and black glow before dimming out. The slant from the edge of the weapon, one he has used to kill off his enemies without a thought. In the current state, he can see the traces of blood left behind.

In his other hand is the damaged lyre. His fingers keep it close to his chest, his heart. One of the last things he had of you. The tip of his pointer fingers strums a string and he winces from the uneasy sound it produces. This instrument no longer plays the melodies he adored, and worse yet, the person he adores can no longer hear it.

Murata was the Pyro Archon. Amongst the other gods, he was ruthless yet kind and merciful. When a threat was sent his way, he did not hesitate to take care of it. He took care of Natlan.

Or, that’s what should have happened.

He closes his eyes, goosebumps forming on his arms from the gust of wind that breezes by him, knocking his hood off. His hair that was let down swayed in the breeze, the loose ends flowing behind him. His bangs move slightly and then stop, falling in their original place.

The rest of his cape follows in the wind, the ends flowing behind him like the draft was made just for him right now.

“I let you down,” he says, clearing his throat. He stares at the colors of oranges, pinks and blues, meshed together to create the sunrise that he grew to love but now, he suddenly resents it.

A single tear cascades down his face and lands on his bare chest. “I’m sorry,” he whispers, squeezing his eyes shut. A rare whimper slips past his lips. With a shake of his head, Murata brings the lyre to his face, pressing his lips against the cracked wood.

A goodbye kiss should always be special, shouldn’t it?

He pulls away, stroking the place where the gem would have been at. “I’m so sorry my love.” He averts his gaze and lowers himself, dropping the lyre on the ground underneath his feet.

“Even I could not save you from the end of your journey. And as your god, I failed to protect you.”

When he stands up straight, his fingers tighten around his claymore. He stares down at the instrument, longing for time to change and to go back. To go back to how things were before.

He can still hear the sound of your life and your smile popping into his mind. At the thought, his lips curl upward faintly in a small smile.

Oh how he misses you already. He still remembers when he first saw you on that day under the statue as you played for him. You were aggressive, that was for sure. No doubt about it when you swung at him with your lyre and accused him of being a disgusting pig.

He can only blame himself. Deep down, he knew a day like this would come, but he didn’t think it would happen so soon.

But maybe now, as he called you his angel or an angel of Celestia, you can now ascend to where you truly belong.

This isn’t goodbye, but a farewell, he thinks, clearing his throat as he gets closer to the edge. He peers downward at the ground miles beneath him.

As he failed here, he still has a job to do, no matter what.

So then he jumps. He brings his claymore around and over his shoulder and swings it down. Flames engulf him in whole on his way down until he hits the ground with a thud, his weapon taking up all the impact.

“And thus, the Pyro Archon aided in other nations against the treacherous demons that corrupted their land. After such heroic deeds, he was never to be seen. Many questioned: where did the god of War go? Who will remain victorious?”

“Many say he disappeared to join his love in the next life. Others say he stepped down as god to live amongst the mortals as he always wanted.” The bard hums and lays his lyre across his lap.

“It’s a shame really, how beauty can go to waste.” His fingers run over an emerald gem that lies in the middle of the wood. His lyre was beautiful.

The edges curved in different directions with a piece of wood piercing the top with a rounded end and pointed tip. Seven strings glowed recently as he placed the object to rest.

“But it’s not as if it was her fault.” His slender fingers run over the white petals with a faux sigh of despair. “She would have been popular amongst the folks here, if she was immortal, of course. If only he kept his word to her saying he would protect her no matter what.”

The bartender drowns out the rest of Venti’s words, his eyes trained on the wood beneath his feet.

Diluc Ragnvindr, owner of the Dawn Winery and Angel’s Share. Information is at his fingertips wherever he goes. In Mondstadt, he is a nobleman of high status. Everyone knows about him.

His crimson eyes hold tears as he lets out a shaky breath, bringing a gloved hand to wipe away at the water that threatens to spill.

He tries to keep his mind off of it but he can’t suppress it.

In front of him was Lord Barbatos himself—one he knew too well from millennia ago. Having fought with him in the Archon War, and the Destruction of Khaenri’ah, Diluc knew there was no way to get rid of him.

It shocked him the most that the bard even remembers the story from back then. Even if other storytellers told this tale, Venti was the one that pierced his heart the most.

“Master Diluc!” At the sound of his name, the red head hesitantly lifts up his head. Venti’s annoying smile greets him, pressing his finger against his cheek in a thinking motion.

“Did you like it? I hope you did! I try to incorporate any stories of the divine. It seems that today was a hit. Don’t you think so?”

“Why are you bringing it up?” he whispers, not caring that tears trail down his face. “Why do you need to remind me of my failure?”

The other peers don’t seem to notice the usual calm and collective man in tears. They’re all too far gone in the hole of alcohol.

Venti’s eyebrows crease, cocking his head to the side. “Failures? What do you mean? I’m just doing my job and singing like I always do. You’re doing great things in the Wine Industry. What failure could you possibly mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean!” Diluc snaps, slamming his hands on the counter in front of him, causing the bard to jump in his seat. “You know exactly what you’re doing!”

“Oh dear oh dear,” Venti sighs, shaking his head. He picks up his lyre, placing his lips against the wood.

“So pretty huh?” he asks once he pulls away, a small smirk on his lips as he shows Diluc. “Wouldn’t it be amazing if you got to play this?”

The strings continue to shine, dimming and going bright again. An instrument perfect for anyone and in this case, for Barbatos.

It pains Diluc to see him with your lyre. As much as you told him you despised other people holding it, he feels much more stronger about it. He wants nothing more than to snatch it from Venti’s hands and tell him to get out.

“Others say that he wanders in the world right about now. No one knows what he looks like though. It’s a shame if anyone were to find him and blame him.”

Venti’s fingers run over the strings. A melody is heard in the air, louder than any of the drunk men in the room.

Diluc feels a sob beginning to form in the back of his throat. He wants nothing of this. He wants to truly go back home to Natlan with you. He could have made you a god and you could have been here with him today.

As much as Diluc wants to look away, he’s mesmerized by the way the singer’s fingers move gracefully against the strings. For a split second, he could have swore he saw you sitting in his place, singing softly for his ears only.

Like the angel you were.

“But it seems that the god is afraid of confrontation. And yet, he seems to be mourning over his lover even after her death. If anyone were to be at fault, it would be his—”

Venti stops, peering up at Diluc through his lashes. A sinister look was evident in his eyes. He paused for dramatic effect, a smirk growing on his lips. He hums and strums the last note.

“Isn’t that right, Murata?” Venti muses, asking a question in the form of a song. But in reality, he aimed it towards the redhead god standing in front of him.

Diluc stares dumbfounded, mouth parted and eyes red from his silent crying. His hands are balled beside him. The peers cheer for the bard and offer drinks to compensate for his amazing singing—to which he laughs it off but takes the offers regardless.

And all Murata can do is live with his own guilt, for the rest of his immortal life. Forever.

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jae-daddy · 3 years

Text

Duff (7)

im jaebum au series

one / two / three / four / five / six / seven / eight / nine masterlist

pairing: im jaebum x reader genre: angst, smut, cheating, CEO! plot: you are the duff and guys use you to get close to your best friend, Heather, and turns out Jaebum is no exception, but as time goes on the tension between you and your best friend’s unofficial boyfriend grows a/n: if ya like send something in or leave a comment! I love reading them! next part is going to be interesting, hope yall liked the bit of spice. not edited, hope y’all enjoy it! <3

“Stop,” Jaebum ordered.

Every nerve in your body told you to disobey and continue to walk out of his office, but your feet stopped. Your back faced him as your eyes settled on the plain dull wall in front of you, save for a painting that wasn’t much interesting.

It wasn’t truly his office yet. Jaebum hadn’t added any personal touches to the cold space in the past month of him acting Director. He remained detached from the office, employees and the job as much as he could.

Except for you, Jaebum always seemed to be looking for a way to get under your skin. Find new ways to bother you, to annoy you. It was almost as if he enjoyed seeing you fume at him with anger. Your face red with fury brought him peace and happiness. It made that easy cocky smirk on his lips grow each time his melting eyes met your raging ones.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said.

You didn’t turn around instantly. Instead, you took a deep breath in and turned with a vacant expression, “I’m sorry, sir. Was there something you needed?”

Jaebum shifted in the chair, annoyed. Once again, he wasn’t seated in the big boss chair on the other side of the desk. He chose one of the two placed on the other side instead, with papers splayed out in front of him, on the desk.

Your eyes went to the mess and your lips pursed. Your hands itched by your side to sort through the junk and organise everything in a proper fashion. But Jaebum knew what he was doing, he knew exactly where each paper was. He worked like a genius; chaotic and completely self-relied.

You looked back at him to find his lips drawn into a thin line, his brows drawn together as he stared up at you. For the first time, Im Jaebum did not have the cocky smile that normally danced on his lips. His eyes didn’t watch you as if he understood every thought that zoomed through your head.

He looked at you utterly lost, distraught and confused.

“Don’t try to play this game, y/n. Stop that, tell me what’s wrong, why have you been avoiding me.”

He was almost begging at this point, and for the first time in the past week, you smiled. It wasn’t a kind smile, it was cruel and relished his misery. Your tight posture relaxed as you tilted your head holding his troubled gaze as you sang, almost taunting, “I have no idea what you are talking about. I have not been avoiding you, sir.”

Jaebum rose out of his seat and towered over you in an instant. He gritted, “Stop calling me that.”

“Calling you what, sir?”

Jaebum’s eyes darkened as he took another step towards you. You didn’t move away, you held your ground, your head tilting back to meet his stormy gaze. His jaw ticked as he sneered, “Do you enjoy this? Do you find pleasure in torturing me like this?”

“Torturing you?” You tsked, the smirk on your face growing, hiding the pounding heartbeat in your ears. You turned walking away before spinning on your red-bottom heels, “If someone were to hear, they’d think I was actually hurting you, sir.”

“Stop it!” He spat, the anger leaving him. All Jaebum was left with was desperateness as he continued, “Stop calling me sir, y/n. I’m trying to have a conversation with you as a friend--”

“A friend?” You chuckled, cutting him off. “We are not friends.”

“So we’re back to this again?”

“Yes, we are.” It was your turn to sneer at him as you took a step towards him. All coolness evaded your body and all you felt was red and hot. Anger sparked through every core of your body, your eyes shone with distaste, as you looked down your nose at him, “I will never be friends with a loathsome disgusting dog like you.”

“Dog?” Jaebum snickered at the weak insult, but the embers of the fire began lighting up inside him as he watched your lips draw into a scowl.

“Yes, a dog. A terrible, horrible cheating dog.”

“Is that the best you can do?” Jaebum jeered raising his eyebrows mockingly. “Call me a dog and say nonsense?”

“I am not speaking nonsense, you bastard,” you spat. Jaebum flinched at your words, but you continued, the fire blazing inside you. “I saw you and that woman in your office that day. Don’t think I will forget that easily. I know how disgusting you are.”

“What day--”

“Or do you mean which day-” you cut him off, stepping closer to him. The poison hissing from your tongue, “You have flirted with any woman that you ever crossed path with; at the club, at work! It doesn’t matter to you that you have a girlfriend, and you might think it’s okay, but it is not. I would never do that to my friend. I won’t sit back and hold my tongue-”

“Then why haven’t you done something about it if I’m so bad,” Jaebum cut you off this time. The easy smile returned on his lips, dancing with malice as he looked down at you as if you were a crazy lady talking about stars and the end of the world. “If you can’t differentiate between being friendly with others and flirting, then that’s on you, not on me. It’s not my fault you're an emotionless closed off mumpsimus who doesn’t know that people can simply just be nice to one to another--”

“Yes!” You scoffed up at him. “Because almost fucking a lady on your desk is just being friendly.”

“I was not about to fuck her!”

“Oh yeah?” You nodded, sarcastic.

“I was not cheating. I was not flirting with her.”

“Then what were you doing, Jaebum?” Your eyes were blazing with so much rage you felt as if it would consume you. “Do you hug everyone on your desk? How did Paul like it when you dry-humped him on the desk and called it a friendly hug?”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jaebum groaned, “It was just a hug and she slipped! I was helping her get steady!”

“And I just happened to walk in that exact moment. What a crazy coincidence!”

“If you’re so certain, why haven’t you told anyone then?” Jaebum questioned, after a deep breath. “You tell Heather everything, why haven’t you told her this yet?”

“She already knows what I think of you.”

Jaebum tried not to flinch at your words, “But have you told her about what you apparently saw last week in this office?”

Your cheeks painted red, as you tore your eyes away from him. You stared at the wicked desk instead, “No.”

“Why not?” He drawled, as he took a step closer towards you.

Your chest swelled with resentment as you refused to look at him and the victorious smile you knew was on his lips. You bit your tongue before you answered, each word cutting your throat, “I was not sure.”

“What was that?” He crooned, you could hear his smile. You felt the chuckle in his cool breath as it brushed your forehead. When you didn’t reply, Jaebum placed a finger under your chin and lifted your eyes to meet his.

His haunting gaze still shone with anger, but his lips painted the picture of the easy ocean after a stormy night.

You wanted to smack that smile from his lips. You wanted to erase the victory bubbling inside of him. You met his eyes, not looking way. Your mind repeating one thought over and over again.

I hate you.

It was unfair to blame all these emotions on Im Jaebum when it was not all his doing. You knew Jaebum wasn’t a flirt by choice, but by nature. He was like a golden retriever who couldn’t help but spread love wherever he went. And he didn’t just get friendly with any woman around his age, but with old grandmas, mothers, other males and grandfathers too. It was just who he was.

You knew you were being harsh, you knew it. But you couldn’t back down.

You would rather blame it on Jaebum. You would rather pretend that it was all his fault that you hadn’t been smiling, sleeping or eating this past week. You didn’t want to give that asshole this power over you; you didn’t want to admit the power he still had over you.

Jaebum’s eyes searched yours and the storm in them vanished. His eyes held yours, his fingers on your chin holding you in place as he searched through your mind. And just like always, he finally found the answer. You saw the recognition shine in his eyes; he knew this wasn’t about him.

You knew it wasn’t this that you had you so removed from life. But it wasn’t like Jaebum didn’t do anything wrong too. You still didn’t know what had happened between Jaebum and that lady, or more like, what would have happened had you not walked in at that moment.

“I walked in too early, Im Jaebum,” you exhaled, the venom dancing on your tongue as you met his cool gaze. Your eyes burned bright once again in accusation, “If I had walked in a second later, I would have caught you red-handed.”

“Red-handed?” Jaebum repeated, the smile easy on his lips, the raise of his eyebrows graceful, “Red-handed doing what exactly?”

You glared at him, “I would have found you about to fuck her.”

Jaebum chuckled in reply. The burn of his fingers easing on your chin. He opened his eyes, a new kind of darkness in his eyes; his lips smirking with secrecy.

His fingers lingered on your chin, his thumb grazing your lower lip, his eyes falling for a moment. Your heart stopped when you saw him lean in closer, but then he stopped.

His fingers were a whisper against your skin. It lightly traced down your throat, over your faint collarbones and over your shoulders. His fingertips grazed down your back smoothly, his touch burning through the flimsy white shirt you wore. His fingers stopped on your lower back, before both his hands landed on your hips. His fingers spreading over the curve, searing you with its touch.

His hands gently nudged you backwards, making you take a step back. Jaebum’s steps followed you, making you walk backwards until you felt the edge of the dark wood on your lower back.

Jaebum’s eyes never left yours as he eased you onto the desk. Your legs parted effortlessly as Jaebum slipped between them; your skirt bunching up as it rose up your thigh. Jaebum’s hands finally left your body and your chest expanded.

The ghost of his touch burned you with its sudden coldness.

A strong arm reached behind you on the right. His left hand fell on your knees, slowly, dangerously moving up.

You weren’t breathing; you couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t move under his touch.

You couldn’t move under his heated gaze.

Jaebum’s eyes did not leave yours as he leaned in closer. His dark eyes flickering to your lips, a knowing small smile on his lips as your chest heaved. You gulped nervously as his lips drew closer, so close you could taste his breath on your tongue.

You closed your eyes as you felt him lean in closer. His tortuously slow left hand deliciously moved higher, his fingertips gracing the inside of your thighs.

His lips touched you, barely missing your lips. A small sigh left you, and you felt a smile blossom on his soft lips. Jaebum placed another kiss, lower, and then another. Another soft sigh fell from your lips when his lips kissed your neck; you felt his lips drag upwards towards your ear.

His fingertips dug into your thighs, as he gently blew into your ear. You held your breath to stop the whimper from escaping you. You felt so hot; you were sure if Jaebum's fingers as much as travelled any bit further he would be able to feel your body reacting to him.

You could feel your core tangled and a mess of nerves, and a heartbeat down below, in anticipation.

“I have barely touched you and you’re such a beautiful little mess, love,” Jaebum whispered into your ear. You closed your eyes swallowing the painful truth in his words and the shame climbing over your body. “Trust me, if I ever wanted to fuck someone you wouldn’t have to guess. You would know.”

You believed him. If something more was happening that day, you would have known.

You felt him move away, but you kept your eyes closed. Your breath leaving you shakingly as you tried to regain control over yourself. You could feel him look at you; you felt his gaze burn you as he took you in.

You wondered what he saw. How much could he see?

Could he see your cheeks deep with a blush? Your lips wet with anticipation? Your chest heaving? Your breath shattering? All because of him and his nearness, how much could he see... what did he think of it...

Could he see your mind racing with thoughts of him? Racing with all that could happen next? His lips on yours, your moans filling up the quiet office as he groaned, filling you up, spreading you wide open on his desk.

Could he see how you were trying to control yourself?

You opened your eyes and wished you hadn’t. You would rather see them clouded with rage, even unfiltered lust would be better than the softness you found. The honey brown in his eyes met your gaze with desire, want and longing.

It was disgusting.

It was terrible.

It was horrifying how Im Jaebum could make you feel when he was looking at you like that. As if his hands burned beside him, begging to touch you. As if he would cease to exist if he did not touch you, kiss you, hold you. As if you were all he could ever want in the world, but you were the only thing he could never have.

You would rather take animalistic lust over that.

You tore your eyes away from him. Jaebum took a step back and you hopped off the desk. You straightened your skirt avoiding his face. But Im Jaebum wasn’t looking at you as well, his gaze focused on the floor but his mind somewhere far away.

“I won’t worry Heather with this,” you croaked out. Jaebum nodded absent-mindedly, and you began walking out. You were almost to the door when you stopped. You bit your lip, unsure, but decided to say it anyway, “Don’t take it personally, Jaebum. It’s not you, I’ve just been in a mood and caught up with something else. I- I guess, that’s why you thought I was avoiding you.”

“Oh,” Jaebum replied, softly. You turned around to find him giving you all his attention, “Is there something I can do to help you?”

You shook your head with a small smile, “No.”

The moment you had been dreading finally arrived that afternoon.

“Good evening, Meridian Firm,” you answered, automatically. You hated answering phone calls, you would rather email.

“Hello, I’m calling from Spring Industries-”

You knew. You knew.

“I’m calling on behalf of our CEO Park Jinyoung,” the lady on the other spoke, and you tried to control your breathing. “He would like a meeting with Director Im.”

“I will let Director Im know.”

“Can we pencil a meeting date right now, and you can confirm it later? My boss really wants an answer,” the lady on the side spoke sounding more humane.

You knew what she meant by that too. You knew how he got when he didn't get what he wanted.

“Of course,” you pulled out the calendar planner looking for the next empty date, “How is next week Thursday at five-thirty in the evening?”

“Hmm, let me check,” you heard a few clicks on the other side, and prayed it wouldn’t match. “Oh, perfect! Hope to hear from you soon!”

“Alright, goodbye,” you say before hanging up. You sighed, tired, as you run your fingers through your hair.

You knew this moment was coming, but you hadn't expected it to come so soon. You weren’t sure if you were ready. Your stomach churned at the thought of seeing him again.

“Hey, you alright?”

You looked up to find Im Jaebum standing by your desk with concerned eyes. You nodded, smiling slightly at how adorable he looked worried, “I’m good.”

“I...” he started but trailed off. “Let’s go get dinner.”

You were about to say no when he added, “Heather and Bam are already on their way. And Heather said she wants you there.”

You sighed, exhausted, “Alright.”

“Oh, and uh,” you paused, biting your lips, breathless. “The CEO of Spring Industries wants to meet you next week Thursday at five-thirty, how should I reply?”

“Am I free?” You nodded in reply. Jaebum just shrugged, nonchalant, “Cool, tell them yes.”

You nodded once again, doom already clouding over you.

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Note

without making this a sap story ive had some not so great news from home and am in one of them moods to not talk abt it. but i need a tom h to hug me , pls could u write something like that?

hey anon - i am sending u all my love, and hope things get a little easier for u as soon as possible. if u ever do wanna chat abt nothing or rant just send me a pm x I hope this is at least somewhat what u were looking for <33

summary: life is sometimes not good, but your fave boy makes it just a little easier to deal with (with some original help from his brother too)

a bit angsty but i promise mainly fluff (and a popcorn fight?)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

What drew you out of the sort-of-trance was a two soft but firm knocks at the door - well Tom’s bedroom door. You’d been relaxing with him and Harry, watching the new ‘Line of Duty’ when your mum had called for the daily catch up. Admittedly, she had already tried to call you twice today but somehow you’d managed to miss both of them. On reflection, possible not that shocking because you’d been at a charity golf day with the boys which involved a fair amount of noise, chat and competition.

Thankfully the boys had both done pretty well, Tom coming slightly ahead but that was the norm between the two. It meant they were both happily basking in their relative victories and not moody and grumpy like they are oh so often when things go wrong. Because to them, against your pleading, begging and sometimes lecturing…. golf was not just a game.

You and your mum had always been very close, so usually speaking to her was uplifting and made you feel a little bit more complete - what with travelling with Tom for work, her voice was a slice of home. This time though, it was not so much the case. It was just sad news about your home town. Nothing directly to your family or close friends but still, it makes you feel generally down.

Who knows how long it’d been since you’d hung up on the phone, just staring at the wall opposite. Everything felt just hollow and empty, lacking in meaning somewhat. You weren’t necessarily thinking, more like devoid of emotion, of thoughts, of anything. Just a bit cold.

“Y/n…Y/n?” His voice sounded hesitant, as though scared he was interrupting your call. When you didn’t respond, the door cracked open and his fluffy head poked in, not that you noticed - your brain was still half absent. Tom on the other hand, was instantly looking you up and down, very much confused as the why you looked so rigid and not present. Noticing the phone was lying quiet on the bed in front of you, he felt safe to enter. He made a beeline for the bed, perching himself down on the edge, in-front of you - so he was blocking your fascinating view of the grey wall opposite.

“What’s going on in that little head of yours?” His voice was soft and gravely, choosing not to put much energy into his vocal box as he rubbed up and down one of your arms.

“Hmmm? Sorry, was miles away.”

“Could tell darl.” As he chuckled his eyes crinkled round the outside. “How was your mum?”

“Yeh…um okay, I-I guess.” As much as you wanted to shake yourself out of it, it just wasn’t that easy. Everything was laced with this underlying chilliness.

“You sure? You dont really sound it?”

“No, I um…well I’m not sure. I think I’m okay?”

“What happened?” You shook your head in response, making Tom press his lips together with a small nod. “ Don’t wanna talk about it huh?”

“Not… not right now. Please?”

With a permitting nod, Tom stood up and squeezed your hand, urging you to follow. Trailing behind him into the living room, he then instructed you to take a seat on the sofa adjacent to Harry, Tom himself disappearing back into the house. It made you pout a little, you wanted him to just look after you a little this evening but that self pity wasn’t allowed to last long - because a piece of popcorn flew into your cheek. You whipped your head around, with mouth open feigning shock, to see Harry smirking at you cradling a bowl full of other possible missiles in hand.

“And what was that for?” He shrugged his shoulders, turning his head back to the TV.

“You looked sad.”

“…” Your mouth was open, no words coming out though, as you looked at the frizzy haired boy in bemusement. Sometimes you thought you understood how his head worked but at other points, the boy was a bloody mystery. Instead of explaining his thought process (because there almost certainly wasn’t one), he just smiled evily at you - wiggling his brows. And I know you know what that meant.

Sure enough by the time Tom reentered the room, arms full with different objects he’d collected round the house, the floor had been littered with popcorn kernels. You and Harry were squealing at each other as handfuls of the snack were catapulted vaguely at each other as you chased him round the room. It took Tom shouting at the both of you for you to freeze, slowly lowering your hands in ceasefire with a giggle.

“I leave you alone for two minutes.”

“ It was his fault!” You protested, causing a 5 minute of ‘ he said-she said’ between the two of you, even if Tom wasn’t listening to the bickering. Instead, he quickly whizzed round the room picking up all the obvious popcorn bits and then spread out all the blankets he’d got from round the rented house on the sofa.

You knew Harry, in his very own and special way, was only doing all this to cheer you up and you couldn’t appreciate it more. Your relationship with him had recently got so much closer, thanks to Tom being busy on set actually filming - while you and Harry just had some quality ‘almost sibling’ times. And now living with him too - naturally he had grown to know your tells almost as well as Tom.

“Alright children calm down… thought we could watch movie?” Plopping himself down on the cream seat, Tom made grabby hands to you which of course you had to comply with.

“I’ll um… I’m gonna leave you to- well to the being in love shit. It’ll make me chunder”

“We love you too bro” Tom called to Harry, who was already on his way out - but the tone of gratefulness in his voice was evident, he appreciated Harry noticing that the two of you could do with time together.

“Don’t make it weird!” Harry’s response had you sniggering, as you pulled the fluffiest blanket over both you and Tom and nestling into his side.

After a few minutes of Tom pretending to argue with you about film choice, before ultimately agreeing with your choice of ‘La la land’ as he always planned on letting you. The Holland boys were both very talented at subtly being a shoulder if needed, and yes you knew it was all an act - but you weren’t about to call him out. About halfway through he kissed the crown of your head and murmured. “Can tell you’re not watching darling.” He wasn’t wrong to be fair. Yes, you were looking at the screen - but your mind was far away from the plot line.

“Sorry I um… minds like a runaway train sometimes.” Tom released a breathy chuckle at that before murmuring a ‘come ‘ere’ to you as he all but lifted you up from sitting by his side. You ended up lying almost onto of him, with both of Tom’s strong arms holding you tightly to him. Smiling into his chest, you nestled closer so the soundtrack to the movie played over the top of his constant thudding heartbeat. It took a few moments of you both just staring into the screen, completely contented for Tom to speak, squeezing you slightly tighter whilst the two of you watched Ryan Gosling and Emma Stone twirling on the road.

“I gotchu now lovie”

And you swore then that all the thoughts racing in your mind were outpaced by those of a different kind. Still intense ideas, ones that buzzed round your brain, but these were happy. Thoughts of ‘how could I be so lucky’ and ‘I love this man with my whole heart’.

Apparently these thoughts were also a comfort because when Tom looked down at you after what must’ve been at least half an hour, you were spark out. Breathing deep and unchanging, eye locked shut and mouth slightly squashed against his chest so your lips were pressed together. But what made the boy physical pout was the way you relaxed hand was loosely balled round a fistful of his purple hoodie. As if you were clutching at him to keep him as close to you as possible.

He felt so grateful - not only for you, but also for the fact that he had the ability to make it a little better. You didn’t need him - Tom swore you were one of the most fiercely independent people he’d ever met - yet it was clear you wanted him. You wanted him when you felt down, the same way you wanted to be around him when you were overly hyper and chatting pure rubbish. You didn’t want him because he was the ‘Tom Holland’ you wanted him because he was Tom.

He couldn’t fix what was going on back at your home (I mean right now, he still didnt even know what was going on). But he did know how to make everything just a little less shit. He knew how to be your person.

And that would forever be job Tom was most proud of.

once again sending u all lots of love (esp u anon 💕)

would love to know what u guys think if ya made it this far ;)

tagging (link to join) : @hallecarey1 @hollandfanficlove

#tom holland #Tom Holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland angst #tom holland x y/n #tom holland imagines #harry holland

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morganas-pendragons · 3 years

Text

It’s A Long Way Down | D.D.

gif by @bestintheparsec

I was never planning on posting something on Tumblr during No Content November, but this idea has been stuck in my head since I saw Mando 2x03 and on top of that, people kept tweeting ideas on Twitter and now this thing is born... be gentle. I’ve been hesitant to write for him since I started the show last year. I played a little bit with what we know of Din’s past for the sake of this plot.

Without further ado, hurt/comfort galore! 2x03 spoilers!

Please let me know what you think!

tag: @earthtokace / @dindjarindiaries / @kyber-queen

***

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Drowning.” He replies, soft and quiet as he processes the last three days in the midst of the silence. “Almost drowning.. and thinking about how you’d cope when I was gone.”

If I was gone.

Maybe the world would be better off. That’s what Din thinks. That thought lingers for a split second in his mind until he sees the desperation in your aspect and how you need him to understand that this world is a better place with him in it.

The Watch didn’t allow him attachments. They didn’t allow him to feel. He was a warrior.

He was a warrior, and the entrance of you and The Child made his hardened heart soft.

Din has never liked the water.

When he’d been taken in by the Mandalorians and had sworn his Creed, the one thing they had drilled into his mind for his entire childhood was that he was a warrior. Warriors knew how to fight, how to survive, how to endure.

A Warrior who did not dare show his face. This was The Way, and the way kept him safe.

The one thing he could never quite master as a Foundling was enduring the water. To stop the way his lungs seized, how panic overtook him, how he just stopped.

Din didn’t like the water, and Din had never really learned how to breathe.

Then he’d met you. You - the one person he could admit to loving, to admiring from a distance because he has his Creed and you have some kind of Code you live by - and your devotion to both him and The Child has slowly eased the ache in his chest, cracked open his ribs, and taught him a different way of breathing.

Slow, steady, easy. He’s never known life to be that way.

***

There is no Light without the Dark.

Through passion, I gain focus.

You had run across Mando just after the end of the Empire. You’d seen that Death Star explode with your very own eyes and had declared that your final mission with The Rebellion, in which you bid a tearful farewell to Luke and Leia and made your way into the galaxy.

A vast galaxy.. alone.

You and Luke had very differing views on the Jedi Order as a whole and in that difference, you’d taken two different paths. You had followed the Code of the Grey Jedi, and Luke had taken to the Jedi Code.

That Code had carried you through alot of darkness.

Through knowledge, I gain power

Through serenity, I gain strength

The Clone War had introduced you to the concept of Mandalorians. You’d never really had the pleasure to meet one as you’d always been on different fronts a distance from the Dream Team, but you knew of them. You knew they carried a Creed the same way you did.

What you didn’t expect was the extent in which The Mandalorian did. The two of you had met in a cantina only days after he’d taken on The Child, and his claim for knowing where to find you on Sorgan was whispers of a rogue Jedi who’d left the Rebellion to seek peace.

Peace was what you found, contrary to popular belief. Compared to being a part of the Jedi Order, being with The Mandalorian was the most peaceful thing you’d done in over a decade.

Through victory, I gain harmony

You’d been raised around Yoda, so you were familiar with the species, but past that.. You were as clueless as Din was.

You stowed your lightsabers away and that part of your life with it. You left behind the title of Jedi and put all of your efforts into taking care of The Child. Into taking care of Din.

That was easier said then done.

There is only The Force.

***

I wasn’t supposed to fall in love.

That’s all he is thinking as he stands examining the vast waters of the ocean the two of you sail on with the Quarren crew. Your fingers are curled in the direction of The Child’s pram, and he’s giggling as he tries to maintain control of his body while you spin him.

It’s the first time he’s seen you smile in weeks. It’s always small ones too. He looks forward to the first time he’s granted the opportunity to see a real smile.

It had taken you a while to open up to him about your time with the Jedi. You’d barely been a padawan when The Order’s genocide had been in effect, and the greater majority of your life had been lived in fear. Your Code and your Lightsaber were your only guide until Leia had found you and recruited you into The Rebellion.

All your life you’d been looking for a purpose, and she’d given you one.

Being here with The Child - caring for him, teaching him, had given you a new purpose - and being with The Mandalorian had taught you a newfound sense of compassion for people raised as he had been.

Your compassion and heart had won him out in the end. He’d admitted to being in love with you months ago, but he had yet to vocalize it. He would. He will.

It happens so fast. One minute the two of you are smiling - even though you cannot see his own - about The Child’s reaction to the Mamacore, and the next minute you’re roaring with rage as his pram is shoved into the center of the cage and he’s forced to retreat inside for fear of being killed.

He’s a child. A child who’s been too involved in death, in seeing death, in flirting with death.. and Din has had enough of it.

Din Djarin doesn’t like the water. He doesn’t like how it weighs him down, how it threatens to suffocate him, to fill his lungs with something cruel and cold that replaces the warm fire that floods his veins that has been placed there by you.

“You’re-You’re a Jedi?”

“Push him down! Harder!”

His world is illuminated in a flurry of blue light as the Quarren’s keep pushing him down under, down down down and his first thought is ner jeti.. i’m sorry. He’s sorry that he’s again put you in this position where you’ve had to reveal yourself, reveal who you are, and all to protect him and The Child.

Failure.

He’s a failure.

Between you and the trio of Mandalorians that arrive shortly after, the Quarren’s are dealt with in a matter of moments and then he’s being lifted - his lungs are reactivating, are expanding and contracting to remind him that he is alive - and he collapses in the midst of wheezing his concern for the child.

“The Child! Help-Help The Child!”

The Mandalorian on the left dives into the water to rescue The Child from the creature. You turn your attention away from the bodies and sheath your sabers before kneeling in front of Din to assess him.

“The Child-” He rasps, because his thoughts are never on himself, only you and The Child. His life doesn’t matter if it means the two of you are safe. “Jeti, ner ad-”

Jedi, my son.

Your gentle hand on his knee is enough to capture his thoughts. Your way of evaluating Din’s state has never been through the physical sense, but the mental. He doesn’t know how to shield because The Jedi was a foreign concept to him until he met you, and he’s always been receptive to your gentle nature. You don’t need to talk. You never have.

You look.

His mind is a flurry of panic and fear as you gently soothe it into a peace that makes his whole body go lax as Koska breaks the pram shell in half and gently scoops out the baby. “Here you go, Brother.” Koska murmurs, watching from beneath her helmet as you stand to your feet and allow Din to reunite with The Child he claims not to have an attachment to.

Yeah... okay.

Din and Bo-Katan converse - in which he is given an inexplicable truth about himself that he's not quite sure how to process - and he shuts down the idea of them even being real Mandalorians because their way is not his way. It’s a whole new reality he’s never had to face before.

“You are a Child of The Watch.”

And as you stand there, you take in the distress in which the man you love - and have yet to tell - is trying so desperately to hide.

***

His panic bursts through the surface when you unsheathe your sabers in the hall that connects and run right into the line of fire, deflecting blaster bolts left and right so Din can run right past you and blow the door to the bridge right open.

The fight about it comes later, long after the two of you have returned to The Crest for the coordinates to Coravus where Ahsoka Tano is supposedly located. She is a Jedi - or was, once - and might be the only connection you have left to the person you used to be despite how young you had been at the time.

Your first clue to his apparent agitation is the way he hasn’t unclenched his fists and has yet to look at you from where he sits in the cockpit. Your anger is growing steadily at his silence, which has never happened before.. not until you put your life into the line of fire.

“Say it.” Your voice echoes from behind the captain’s seat as you cross your arms over your chest. “Mando-please, stop giving me the kriffing silent treatment and just let me have it.”

“Ner jeti...” He stops short and stands to his feet, practically towering over you in a way that would intimidate most people. He has never once made you feel afraid... but he constantly makes you ache. With want, with pain, with desire. He makes you feel things you haven’t felt since before Order 66. “You cannot do that.”

“Do what?? Save your life? Mando, I’m-”

“Din.” Your rant is cut off halfway as he exhales lowly, a rumble through the modulator, and lifts a helmeted head to meet your gaze. “My name is Din Djarin. I thought it was time you know that.”

Your entire body freezes. You have been a partner, an ally, since the day he’d found you on recruited you to help return The Child to his kind. You have been careful in ensuring that it’s strictly a professional relationship, you never had anticipated this- The intimacy that comes with divulging such a secret as his real name.

“Din?” You rasp, eyes glassy with tears as the air is knocked from your lungs. It rolls off your tongue easily. The sound of his name, his real name, is beautiful. “Wow. It’s... beautiful.”

His response to your affirmation is like watching a galaxy of stars be born in front of your very eyes. He’s so receptive to it.. starved of it.

“I used to forget everything.” Din says. “The people who trained me.. they wanted me to be the best of our clan. There was so much we had to learn. Gun training, hand to hand, the significance of beskar and how important our Beskar’gam was to our safety. I was so good at it. I excelled.. but the one thing I could not shake? The water.

They trained me in the water, jeti. They trained me in the water, to become part of the water... all I could think about was how much it suffocated me. I’m af-” He stops himself short because admitting to a fear is not something he was taught to do, it was bottle it up and compartmentalize in order to get the mission finished. “Afraid of the water because I can’t fight it like I do with a bounty. I can just..”

“Succumb. Sink. Let go.” You murmur. “And that’s not something you know how to do.”

“Yeah.”

You’re oddly intrigued by the fact that this utterly fearless person, this man, was afraid. He’d always struck you as the opposite.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” You ask.

“Nearly drowning.” He replies. “And wondering how you and the ad would cope when I was gone. That’s why I need to tell you.” Din takes another step to close the gap that stands between you both. You’re practically trembling with anticipation. “Thinking about how...”

Din stops. You rest a hand against the exposed skin of his neck and tilt your head as his mind thrums - resonates with the truth of his affection for you - and your lips part in wonder as you realize what he’s trying to tell you.

“Me too.” You whisper. “For a while.. probably since the start. Din, you are a good man. You’ve always been a good man, and I think it’s time that someone puts your needs before themselves instead of the other way around. Please.” Din is slightly taken aback at the pleading tone of your voice as you meet his gaze. “Please let someone take care of you.”

That’s all you can muster before he’s collapsing at your feet.

‘’Take it off.” He begs.

“No, no- Your Creed-”

“Sarad, I want to learn how to breathe again.” He interjects. “This is how I do that. It’s just a faster way of being able to be married to you for the rest of my life.” The man you love is kneeling at your feet and totally willing to abandon part of his livelihood because of you. “There’s nothing I’d want more. Go ahead. Take it off. Please.”

Part of you had always been okay with the anonymity, but as this choice lays just within your fingertips, you find yourself desperate to look upon the face of the man who’d destroy entire galaxies for you and his son.

The Beskar’gam hisses as you remove his helmet and find yourself staring into vulnerable onyx eyes that are wide enough to envelop whole star systems in their splendor.

“Din Djarin.” You whisper, smiling tearfully as trembling hands lift to cup a stubbled jaw. “What a beautiful face to put with an equally beautiful name.”

He exhales his breath on a shuddered sigh and leans into your touch as you begin mapping his face with your fingertips. Din doesn’t dare move, too drunk on the feeling of touch ghosting across his skin in a intimate way that he’s not experienced since his parents left him in that cellar. His face grows warm at how needy he must seem, but you don’t seem bothered by it.

In fact, the way his skin blooms red under your kiss makes your heart swell and your smile widen at the reaction it elicits.

“You know Din, if you wanted me to kiss you.. all you had to do was ask.” You muse. You can read his mind and his body in the same way you read the feel of your lightsaber and the air of a room of hostiles. “Now I don’t know about you, but The Child is asleep and I find myself tired after having to deal with Bo-Katan all day.. can we go to bed?”

“Yes.” He nods once, then twice, allowing you to take his gloves off and lead him in the direction of the tiny cot that somehow manages to house you both. The Beskar’gam comes off one piece at a time until Din is now standing in his usual underclothes which you have not been able to grace yourself with the image of until now as he lays each piece on the floor.

You’re laying flat on your back when he’s finished, arms extended towards the ceiling as you beckon him forward. Din realizes that as he stares at your willingness to be there for him in his most vulnerable moment that he may sleep tonight with no night terrors.

No thoughts of drowning.

“Din Djarin, cyare..” You coo, beaming as he crawls into the bed and allows himself to curl into your body and rest his head on your chest. “I think you should hear it now.” Gentle fingers card through dark curls as he focuses on his breathing - in and out in and out - and listens to the sound of your voice to lull himself to sleep. “I love you.”

He hums thoughtfully and burrows himself deeper into your neck, smiling against the curve of your neck as you lightly graze his temple with your lips. Before Din can properly fall asleep, he rolls himself on top of you and settles himself comfortably against your body. It’s not too heavy, just enough to envelop you in the warmth he radiates.

He’s safe.

You wrap your arms and legs around his form and nuzzle his temple.

Darkness falls upon both of you as Din whispers, “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” before promptly falling asleep in your capable hands. He’s safe.

Tonight.. he’s not drowning.

Tonight, he breathes.

#Din Djarin #The Mandalorian #Din Djarin x Reader #The Mandalorian x Reader #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian fanfiction #star wars imagines #star wars oneshots

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shintorikhazumi · 3 years

Text

A Bloody Relationship(1): To Draw Blood

A/N: Intro note at bottom. Oh also, thanks to @tracedinairlwa for the support in starting out this idea, and for the ideas as well. LOL. Go check out trace’s fics on ao3! Though you already might know them, actually, haha.

Enjoy?

~ShintoriKhazumi

"D-Diana..." Akko huffed, turning her head away further, exposing more of that lovely curve of her smooth neck.

"Akko." Steely, cold blues kept the said girl frozen in place, unable to move just from the sheer power of her gaze.

"Please... don't... you shouldn't-"

“And why ever not, Akko?” Diana whispered against the graceful slope of paled skin.

“Because!”

“That’s not enough reason.”

“Diana!”

And she bit.

"DIANA!" Akko scolded, chopping the girl on the head as she pushed her away, rubbing the fresh, sore spot on her neck. "I told you, no!” She grumbled.

Diana rolled her eyes, unperturbed in the slightest. “It’s not that big a deal.” She huffed, looking away in annoyance.

Akko would beg to differ, eyes wide and fists quivering. “No, no, no. It is a big deal!” She said, shaking her head to emphasize her disagreement.

Diana remained stubborn, defiantly standing her ground.

Akko groaned in frustration, checking the nearby mirror to see if there was any residual scar, then quickly remembered something, slamming her head against the glass before whipping about to face Diana with a flare in her eyes.

“In the first place, I'm the vampire!"

---

"You say that, but I have more experience at retrieving blood from people than you do." Diana argued, finally casting Akko a glance, a smirk forming on her features as she marveled at her handiwork that now left a prideful mark on Akko’s fair skin.

‘How Lovely.’

"That's because they're your patients, you idiot." Akko reminded, crossing her arms with an eyeroll of her own. “It’s your job to do that.”

“Since when was I the idiot?” Diana replied, slightly offended. My, she was at the top of her class! A full-ride scholarship student who had a promising future ahead of her! And this... this... vampire dared to utter such insults to her esteemed name?!

Akko didn’t seem to have a proper comeback to that. Diana felt her lips twitch, ready to form a grin of victo-

“Since... Since now! Or whatever! Or whenever you do stuff like this!” Akko threw back, clearly still bothered by Diana’s actions.

“Huh?!” Diana marched forward, glaring down at the woman who was a few inches shorter than her- a detail that only served to feed her ego. “Well, it was not I who clumsily snuck into the Medical Laboratory Science’s building to steal blood bags, only to so easily get caught.” Diana fired.

“Like hell I knew you people had shifts! The past couple of nights, it had been empty while I was scouting!”

“Goes to show you couldn’t think ahead then. And you dare call me the idiot?”

“Well, I-! Grrr!” Akko growled, fangs bared as she stared up into triumphant blue.

“Seems like this is my win. Again.” Diana smirked, internally patting herself on the back for another debate win against Akko, as was their daily custom. “So much for the vicious and feared vampire.” She mocked, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she celebrated her victory by flopping lazily on the couch- an action she would ne’er do around others.

Her ears picked up a few mumbled, grumbled complaints, practically hearing the frustration and anger in their tone. As much as she wanted to enjoy her little victory after a stressful and tiresome day at the university, she found she could not completely indulge her unwinding session when someone was in a foul mood the whole time.

With a sigh, she looked over the couch arm, spotting the sulking girl poor herself a glass of tea- or so Diana had thought, but as Akko walked over to the couch, she placed the cup on the living room table right in front of Diana, silently offering it to the tired woman.

“Drink and rest.” She said simply, and walked off in the direction of the bedroom.

Diana huffed out a smile, feeling her heart flutter at the gesture. She downed the glass quickly, taking it immediately to the sink to clean it, knowing that Akko was bothered by little things like leaving it out on the table. Upon finishing her task, she happily made her way to the bedroom, finding Akko laying down on her stomach, facing away from the door.

Carefully, she approached the bed, and then gently dropped herself atop Akko, taking the girl’s cool hands in her own and intertwining their fingers. Kissing the back of Akko’s head, she then rested her own into the crook of the girl’s neck.

“I’m sorry...” She murmured against her skin, kissing the place she had bitten before.

“Mm.”

“Are we okay now?”

“Mm.”

“Really?”

“Mm.”

“...”

“Kiss me?”

And Akko did.

A/N: Yeyey! So basically, this is just going to be a bunch of random scenes- almost like a 4-koma type. There isn’t really a followed plot or anything. Just some shots of a Vampire Akko and an MLS student Diana, hihi. As an MLS student myself- I... don’t really know actually. Lol. Anywho, hope you enjoyed, and see you for more bloody nuggets! Ciao!

~Shintori Khazumi

#diakko #dianakko #lwa #little witch academia #diana cavendish #atsuko kagari #au #fanfic #medical #vampire

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fandomsonrequests · 3 years

Text

tv trope

fandom: be more chill

characters: michael mell

reader: gn!

word count: 1.5k+

summary: To him, you were the walking definition of those television tropes of the denim-clad, badass person who practically oozes confidence. The people wanted to date or be with you when they got to know you. And he was whipped. Like so whipped, not even Jeremy’s pining over Christine matched up to it. And that alone is saying something.

a/n: AHHHHH i love Michael mell (and george salazar cos why the hell not) so much ;^; he’s such a dork i just wanna hug him

Michael Mell always thought you were so cool— like The Matrix kind of cool. You weren’t really popular but you had a reputation around the school for being this tough kid who always stood up for themselves and didn’t take any shit being thrown at them. And, when circumstances permit it, you rode your freaking motorcycle to school. Not only that, you didn’t really flaunt anything off and spoke up when you needed to.

To him, you were the walking definition of those television tropes of the denim-clad, badass person who practically oozes confidence. The people wanted to date or be with you when they got to know you.

And he was whipped. Like so whipped, not even Jeremy’s pining over Christine matched up to it. And that alone is saying something.

But at the same time, he was scared. He wanted to talk to you so badly, to get to know you past the television trope he saw you as. He wanted to get to know you for you. And he probably would’ve done so already if all his insecurities and anxious thoughts wouldn’t come crashing down against him like a violent wave.

For example, in Chemistry class. You were situated in the seat right in front of him and when Mrs. Clarke requested the students to pick a partner for the lab activity, Michael hesitated in reaching out towards you. His heart was all in for it but his head was telling him otherwise.

What if they could smell the weed on you? What if they find your Pac-Man pin collection on your bag childish? What if they think you’re weird? What if they don’t like you?

The poor boy would retract his hand and shrivel away as he watches you get whisked away by one of his other classmates. Now he understood what Jeremy felt before he got with Christine— talking to your crush was much easier said than done.

And the cycle repeats daily. He works up the courage, getting some hype from his best bud, which slowly crumbles the second he comes within a five feet radius from you. He turns on his heel and runs away back to his locker, scolding himself for chickening out.

But fate was getting tired of this beating around the bush and decided to take matters in its own hands.

Michael decided to go to the library to pick up some books he needed for school while he waited for Christine and Jeremy to finish up with drama. So imagine his surprise when he saw you in the corner of the library in the “reading nook”, a very familiar comic in your hands. His favorite video game had released a few issues of their new comic, a spin-off to the main plot in the game. Of course, he bought all of them— out of impulse— and was already halfway through the first half of the series. So when he spotted the bright cover of the comic amongst the warm, monotone colors of the library, he couldn’t help but be intrigued.

Before he knew it, his feet were dragging him towards you. He took note of the faded Mötley Crüe shirt you wore along with a pair of acid-washed ripped jeans and your scuffed sneakers. A pair of earbuds were plugged into your ears, your head bopping along to whatever music you were listening to as you read your comic.

He fiddles with the frayed sleeves of his red hoodie covered in those iron-on patches, thoughts of what he was going to say to you running through his head. He eventually ended up just backing out and settling with pining for you from afar but his movement had caught your attention, making you look up from your comic book.

Michael freezes up as his nerves took over him- eyes wide behind his dark-rimmed glasses. You quirk a curious brow, plucking out one of your earbuds before offering a small smile. “Hey Mell,” You greet cooly. “What’s up?”

You knew his name???

“Wh- wha- wait you know me??” The boy stammers as he nervously meets your gaze.

You let out a soft chuckle and he couldn’t help but fall in love with the sound. “Yeah, you’re in a few of my classes. Of course I’d know you.” You uncross your legs and close your comic book to entertain him.

“Oh, wow.. Uhm, it just seems l-like, uhm,” Michael continued, voice shaky while his hands grew clammy. “It, I mean you, you just s-seem like the type to not r-really know others.”

You nod in understanding at his defense. “It’s the vibes I give off isn’t it?” You sigh and shake your head. You look up at him again and scoot over to the other side of the couch situated in the reading nook to offer him some space to sit on. “Well, I hope you believe me when I say that I’m not really scary.”

He looks over to space you had made from him and back to you before going back to the space. It goes on for a couple of moments before he decides to sit down- but on the opposite side of the couch. You two say nothing for a while, just observing one another before you speak up again.

“Anyway, is there anything you need?” You tilt your head curiously, the small smile returning to your lips.

“Ah, no not really,” Michael admitted and scratches the back of his head. “I just saw that you were reading Apocalypse of The Damned: The Laboratorium and I kinda just… gravitated towards you.”

Your smile morphs into a bright grin and the speckled boy decided right there and then, there was nothing brighter than that rare, million-dollar-smile of yours. “You know Apocalypse of The Damned?” You ask excitedly and clutch the comic book to your chest.

“Like the back of my hand,” He replies as confidence starts to flood his system. “I practically bought the whole series.”

Your hands fly to your mouth to muffle your excitement, shifting in your spot to look at him properly. “Have you finished it?”

“Halfway through it. But don’t worry, I’ll try not to give out any spoilers.”

You let out some kind of excited squawk, red coating your cheeks at how stupid you sounded. This was definitely something Michael hadn’t expected. He expected you to be cold, aloof, maybe even a bit grouchy like Jade from Victorious but your personality was quite the opposite. And he couldn’t help but grow more enamored by that.

“I wish I had friends that geeked out with me about these kinds of things,” You huff after your small laughing fit. “They always make fun of me for it.”

“What?? Are they crazy? They’re assholes for doing that to you.”

“No, no. They aren’t really mean but they think it’s too dorky.”

“Well,” He motioned to you. “They’re clearly missing out on things.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at that, bashfully looking down at your hands while toying with the loose end of your earbuds. You nibble at the inside of your cheek before piping up again. “You’re pretty cool, Mell. We should hang out more often.”

Michael’s jaw almost drops at that. Not only did you invite him to hang out with you, but you had actually found him interesting. That you didn’t find him or any of his quirks weird. It was such an elating feeling, one that spurred his confidence even more.

“Does this weekend sound okay for you? We could go out, grab some sushi and maybe binge read the comics together at the old drive-in.” He offers, a bit sheepish, and you nod beaming from ear to ear.

“Sounds great,” You fish out your phone and hand it over to him. “If you don’t mind, can I get your number? So we can coordinate this whole… I guess date later in the week.”

Michael’s face turns a deep shade of red and you couldn’t help but giggle at that, your own cheeks flushing the same color. He was so damn adorable, you wondered why you hadn’t spoken to him sooner. He types in his number and hands you back your phone, smiling uncontrollably at what was happening.

You glance down at the time on your device, seeing that you had to go home soon. “Well, I better head out. Keep in touch will you?”

“Y-yeah, roger that.”

You stood up and gathered your things, turning back to him as you flashed him one last smile. “I’ll see you around, Mell.”

He waved goodbye as you walked to the exit for the library, the lovestruck expression never leaving his face. He sighs dreamily, knowing full well that if his friends saw him now they’d tease him for being so whipped for you. He didn’t mind though because at least, he had something to look forward to this weekend.

Michael gave himself a mental pat on the shoulder for working up the courage to get to know the real you as he picked up the textbooks he needed. At least he knew now that you weren’t some tv trope but someone so much more.

#be more chill #michael mell #michael mell x reader #michael x reader #george salazar

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teawaffles · 3 years

Text

Forbidden Games: Chapter 4

Alan led the way as the two men proceeded down the corridor to another room. While he walked alone in front, the pair noticed the footsteps of several people following them from behind.

They seemed to be travelling to the back of the building, and apart from the people who were currently moving, there was no sign of life. Apparently, ‘normal’ participants could only play in that large hall from before.

“It’s gotten quite chilly, hasn’t it? As I recall, Mr Holmes, you’re not fond of the cold. Are you alright?” William murmured, his shoulders shaking slightly.

Sherlock himself wasn’t particularly sensitive to the cold, but he kept his expression static as he pondered the intention behind that statement.

In the next moment, William twitched the corner of his mouth upwards in a gesture that only Sherlock would understand. Recognising this, Sherlock understood everything, and promptly played along.

“That’s right. It does seem chilly. ——Liam, could you lend me your coat?”

“No problem, here you go.”

“Thanks.”

William held out the coat he had been carrying under his arm. Sherlock took it and immediately put it on. Then, he straightened the coat as he carefully checked how it felt on him.

“If you’re feeling cold, may I suggest we have a warm drink in one of these rooms before proceeding?”

Alan posed the question with a seemingly concerned tone. It appeared that he had taken William’s words at face value.

“No worries. Anyway, I’m also excited to see what kind of game you have for us. It’s almost like the shivers before a battle.”

At Sherlock’s words, Alan nodded happily.

“Is that the case? As the one introducing you to it, I’m pleased to hear that.”

At last, they reached their destination. Alan quietly opened the door and bid the duo enter. The two men shared a look, and went in silently.

The room was dimly lit, and roughly a quarter the size of the hall they were previously in. In the centre was a finely crafted round table, and surrounding it was a group of gentlemen standing in silence, staring at the new entrants.

It was an ominous sight, as if it were a secret ritual. The men’s expressions were unanimously mild, but there was also a keen sense of malice hidden underneath. Even so, having witnessed countless bloody battles and come out standing, William and Sherlock remained unperturbed amidst the disquieting atmosphere.

Sherlock looked at a corner of the room, and flashed a big grin.

“Yo, fancy meeting you here.”

Standing there was the noble’s son whom Sherlock had been tasked to find. Just like the other gentlemen, he was dressed sharply. Yet he lacked a trace of the dignity befitting a noble, instead glancing around his surroundings in sheer terror.

Having observed the young man’s appearance, William murmured a question to Sherlock.

“Is he the young man you were searching for?”

“Yep. It looks like he’s alive for now, but judging from his behaviour, it’s not hard to imagine how he was treated by these guys.”

After deducing the situation, they heard the click of a lock behind them.

Turning around, they saw Alan standing with his back to the door, a smile plastered on his face.

“As expected, you’re quick on the uptake. I sincerely admire your excellent deductive abilities.”

Sherlock snorted at his feigned courtesy.

“What’re you talking about? You’re the one who brought us here.”

“I thought it’d be pointless to keep this place a secret once you’d sniffed it out. Anyway, I reckoned I’d make sure to give him a proper welcome too.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me. Still, what reason could you possibly have for locking up some noble brat? Are all these guys your accomplices too?”

Alan made a show of being astonished.

“We don’t do such perverse things as locking people up. All we pursue is the pure delight of a game, and the comrades gathered here today share in this goal. It is only when pleasure is kept secret that it ascends to a higher realm.”

“——So just like what you did to us earlier, you invited this man here, coerced him into playing some ‘thrilling game’ which he lost, then locked him in this room until he pays off his debt. Is that right?”

“…………”

William’s harsh words stripped away the veneer of Alan’s so-called lofty pleasures, revealing them to be but deceitful tricks. The man raised no retort, and Sherlock clicked his tongue.

“So, are you holding this noble’s son hostage for ransom? Or are you thinking of threatening him so that he’ll make arrangements for you when he inherits his estate? In any case, deceiving and threatening kids makes you no different from a stingy crook.”

Having been bluntly maligned, Alan finally shook his head in sadness.

“It’s utterly regrettable to be misunderstood in such a way. This man consented to play the game of his own free will. However, because he refused to pay up despite his defeat, I’ve had to keep persuading him ardently like this.”

“Persuasion…… so you say,” William retorted.

Having taught students of the same age, he did not hide his displeasure.

Then Sherlock pressed on, openly revealing his irritation.

“Well? Our goal here’s to bring him home safely, but as for you, you’re not going to let things go that easily, are you?”

Alan held out both arms, as if to express his admiration.

“Both of you have been a big help advancing the conversation so smoothly. But there’s no need to be afraid. We have no intention of committing barbaric acts. As I conveyed from the start, all I want to do is play a game with you, with all my heart and soul.”

“Damn you, if this was really just a game then there’d be no need to bet.”

“Doesn’t the risk of defeat just add to the excitement?”

“……Only your ability to make sophisms is first-class, huh.”

They seemed to be getting nowhere trading arguments with this man. Sherlock sighed, as if rendered speechless.

Taking over from the exhausted detective, William spoke up.

“In that case, would you release this man if we win your game?”

Alan nodded in enthusiasm.

“Precisely, since our motto is that all’s fair and square when it comes to games.”

However, Sherlock nudged William with his elbow.

“Liam, you don’t have to go out of your way to play along with them. If you leave it to me, I’ll beat these wimps to a pulp in seconds.”

Hearing Sherlock’s statement, Alan took a step back.

“Ooh, how frightening. In that case……”

He raised his hand. Taking that as a signal, one of Alan’s accomplices brandished a knife and held it to the young noble’s throat. Unable to even make a sound, the young man went white with shock.

“We have no choice but to respond appropriately.”

Alan’s friendly smile had morphed into a brutal one. Having seen the gentleman reveal his true nature, William finally looked at him with disgust.

“In other words, no matter how much we struggle to avoid it, we’ll be drawn into a game…… and although it wouldn’t be outright impossible, it would be difficult to call it ‘fair and square’.”

“This is all simply because we love games,” Alan said brazenly, with no regard for the hostility directed at him.

At that instant, the pair decided to crush this man.

“——Excellent.”

Sherlock spoke up. Even though it wasn’t said particularly loudly, his statement rang out across the room.

William continued in an exceedingly polite tone.

“The extent to which you wish to play games, that I have understood completely. Therefore, regardless of the outcome, I hope you will not regret your decision.”

“……Ooh.”

The pressure exerted by the pair’s fighting spirit had started to make Alan’s entire body tense up.

“I’m glad to hear that you’re in the mood now. By the way, what would you both like to wager on this match?”

At his question, the pair looked at each other.

“We demand that this man be set free. As for the price of our defeat…… Well, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“Anything I want?” Alan doubted.

Immediately, William chimed in.

“Then it would be the same for me. In the event that we lose, be it money, my position as a noble, or the fruits of my academic research, please feel free to lay claim to any of them.”

Alan’s eye twitched at their careless manner of speaking.

“……I don’t suppose you both take me for a fool?” he uttered, in a deeply uncomfortable tone.

“That would be outrageous. It’s simply because I have conviction.”

“When Liam and I team up, no one can stand up to us.”

They were outnumbered in the enemy’s hideout. On top of that, the enemy had taken a hostage.

But even though it would seem to anyone that they were at a disadvantage, the duo’s voices were filled with confidence. Any listener would soon realise that it was not an act of bravado. The two of them had complete trust that their intellectual capacity and force of will far exceeded that of these petty villains.

“…………”

Having been struck head-on by William and Sherlock’s unshakeable conviction, an intense, hot hatred welled up in the pit of Alan’s stomach.

——In the past, Alan had been an influential noble with a vast plot of land in the vicinity of Durham. However, he had fallen into economic ruin with the Industrial Revolution and the current of the times. Simply put, he had begun to walk the path of his downfall.

He’d blindly believed his days of prosperity would continue for all eternity. Watching them fade away, Alan had sunk into the depths of despair, and desperately sought a way to assuage this sense of defeat.

To that end, he became absorbed in games. Whenever he and his opponent had agreed upon the rules and engaged in an earnest match, with him coming out the victor, Alan found that those indescribable highs were finally able to satisfy him.

Having grown aware of his appetite, upon finding out that there was a club established with the purpose of playing ‘games’, Alan immediately sought out his old friends in the nobility to gain admission. He then gathered like-minded people from within the club. Among the club members, he then would pick a target, covertly invite them to a game, and use brute force to achieve victory after victory.

Day after day they would rob nobles of their rights, with demands for payment which were unmistakably threats. His accomplices appeared to be satisfied by the profits, but Alan was different. He wanted to look down upon his opponent and use any means necessary to make them surrender.

Therefore, even now, as he held a noble’s son as a hostage, Alan refused to negotiate. He only desired to win the game. No matter what absurd sequence of events was taking place.

However, these young men were different. Even in the midst of danger, they were calm and composed, with no expectation at all that they would be defeated.

Faced with a type of person he had never met up till now, Alan not only remembered what it felt like to be irritated, but also chuckled inwardly to himself: it would surely be a pleasant experience to tear them down.

Once again, he put on a boastful smirk.

“If that’s the case, then I’ll be the one to decide the price of your defeat.”

“Fine by me. Well then, what game shall we play?”

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori #english translation #forbidden games

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wandsandwheezes · 3 years

Text

Wild Child | F.W

Wild Child x Harry Potter AU // 3k words // this is all thanks to @starlightweasley for making it happen and giving me the inspiration + plot to do it!!

this whole fic is dedicated to her because she deserves it sfm!!!

taglist ; @weasleysflowr @wand3ringr0s3 @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @hufflepuffgirly @whiz-bangs78 @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @cappsikle @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @vogueweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke

Two months ago the worst day of your life happened. Two months ago your father dragged you, kicking and screaming, to a portkey- ready to ship you off to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. “Y/N, this is the last straw! I have had it up to here with your pranks.” you screamed back at him, pulling your hand from his grip, “You ship me off to England for what? To replace me like you replaced mom? Real jerk move dad.” The second you laid eyes on the overbearing castle you already knew you hated it.

You were now laid back against your uncomfortable bed, rolling your eyes, “FYI this place sucks, I can’t even breathe properly with how stuffy these uniforms are and don’t even get me started on the lack of fun and opportunities for pranks. It’s H-E-double L here.” Hermione, pulls a chair up next to your poster bed, resting against one of the posts. “You could at least try and have fun, you know. It’s not all that bad when you forget about the lack of sun and abundant rain.” Ginny looks up from her book, swinging her legs so they’re dangled off the windowsill, “If you’re so desperate to leave, you’ll just have to get yourself expelled - simple pranks and mischief isn’t enough to do it, think bigger.” you sigh pushing yourself to sit up, wrapping your arms around your legs and resting your head on your knees.”

A debate ensued as the evening grew, Hermione taking herself away from the conversation and to the common room to avoid any chance of getting roped into expulsion with your antics. “If we’re going big with pranks, there’s nobody better to go to than Fred and George.” Parvati suggests, “Even better you could try snogging one of them, It would send Umbridge mad.” Padma adds, Ginny retches at the idea, turning up her nose with disgust but laughing a little “The thought of anyone snogging any one of my brothers is ghastly, but It’s not a bad Idea, from what I’ve heard they’re not looking to stick around with the pink devil here.” You smile softly, looking up at Ginny as she continues, “Let’s get you your ticket home for Christmas!”

Sure you had played quidditch back home but you were only ever a reserve, so when ginny flew down to you, yelling that you had to take her place, not only was your heart beating out of your chest, but you suddenly questioned any and all experience you had on a quidditch pitch. Maybe you didn’t know how to play, maybe your Ilvermorny friends were lying when they said you had talent. Before you knew it, you were whizzing around the pitch, quaffle in hand, ready to score. Gryffindor were ahead 40 points by the time Harry had caught the golden snitch, meaning that not only had you helped in scoring goals, but you were on the winning team!

“Not bad, Y/L/N, I didn’t know they taught good sports across the pond,” you scoff with a laugh, walking next to the tall, red haired boy as he pushes his sweat soaked hair back and you couldn’t help but think of how attractive he was, he looked down at you, stopping you from waking, wiping a stray bit of mud from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, licking his other finger to move back in to wipe the rest away, causing you to push him away with a laugh, “I don’t want your spit anywhere near me, Weasley” he smiles, “hmm, are you sure about that?” he grabs your wrist, locking eyes for a moment - you swear you could feel the tension surrounding the both of you, so thick that it could be cut with a knife, only being broken away by the sound of a high pitched scream, causing you both to spin to look in the direction of the noise. “I take it Draco found my nice little gift, I always knew he was a proud slytherin.” Fred’s eyes widen, a smirk cracking across his lips. “You didn’t.” you nodded, starting to make your way to the Gryffindor changing rooms, “Oh, I did, just a little harmless charmed shampoo,” you shrug, he follows after you, shaking his head with a small laugh “You’re trouble, you are.”

Seeing Draco walk into the great Hall for dinner that evening was a sight to see, his bright green hair and eyebrows were unmissable, it was truly a look that turned heads, You, Ginny and the rest of the team were filling your boots on the feast before the victory party continued in Gryffindor Tower. “God, if Umbridge doesn’t punish you for that on her lap dog's plea, you’re crazy, Y/N” There were laughs between mouthfuls and cheers, “She’s only learning from the best, isn’t that right?” you shake your head, taking a sip of juice “Freddie, you of all people should know I was trouble before I’d even met you.”

If there was one thing you’d learned, the English love to party and when they party, they party hard. Bottles of firewhisky were cracked open, music blaring from god knows where, there was laughter, shouting, dancing, games and kissing or, as they call it, snogging everywhere you looked. You were high off the win alone, feeling happy for one of the first times in your few months here, you had supportive friends and most of all you had a piece of your home. Your mum was a brilliant Chaser in her time, or so your father had told you. You had lost your mum in the aftermath of the first wizarding war, a death eater seeking her out all the way across the pond and killing her in front of your father. You were only three and although you don’t remember much of her, you do remember the songs she used to sing and just how magical she made your young childhood, much to the dismay of your father. You felt your chest tighten and tears prick the back of your eyes, causing you to run from the wild party.

Fred caught you fleeing the party, even the small glimpse of your sad face breaking his heart a little, never had he seen a girl as beautiful as you cry. He felt compelled to follow you and over some consolation, he was drawn to you like you were tethered by a piece of string, following your every step till he found you crouched in a corner on the floor, staring out across the black lake. He joined you on the cold stone floor, sitting across from you. “It’s not like the wild child to not be out there as the life and soul of the party,” Fred jokes, punching your arm lightly, causing you to look up at him with a puffy eyed scowl, “okay, no jokes then.” he sighs, pulling you into his side, rubbing his hand up and down your arm comfortingly. You open up to him about losing your mother and how you feel absolutely alienated by your dad, listening intently, not daring to interrupt. “I’ll make you a deal,” he speaks up after a long sigh from you, “No more head-fry behaviour, though, I sense it may be your forte” you smile a little, the corner of your mouth turning up into a smile, “I won’t fry your head if you don’t poach my heart.” he smiles tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “an eggcellent deal.”

As you’re walking through the halls on your way to divination, a pep in your step from a good night’s sleep and a new focus, finally you’re starting to actually feel as if Hogwarts was the place to be and you feel yourself growing happier and happier with every day you spend here. You’re distracted from your thoughts when you feel yourself being pulled hurriedly into a side corridor by your hand, Fred was staring down at you, his hand pressed against the wall by your head as he traps you between the stone and his own body, “How would you feel about a going to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” he asks quietly, “Why all the secrecy Freddie? Don’t want to be caught fraternising with the enemy?” he laughs pressing a kiss to your cheek, “No, I just don’t want Umbridge finding out I’ve broken her six inch rule, but if you’re happy to risk it we can head to divination hand in hand now.” he grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together, you giggle shaking your head, “We had a deal, no head frying.” he looks behind his shoulder before giving you some space, allowing you to continue your walk, “You didn’t answer me about the weekend.” you spin on your heel to look at him, continuing to walk backwards, “I think it would be eggciting, Freddie.” you spin back around to follow on with your journey, leaving the tall boy blushing and laughing to himself.

Freddie Weasley was a dime away from being a whole gentleman, he picked you up from the great hall and walked with you side by side to the small wizarding town, “I didn’t put you as a girl who enjoyed walking.” he joked, nudging you with his shoulder, you roll your eyes, “Well, I didn’t expect a flying car or anything,” he smiles, scratching the back of his neck, “well actually, my dad used to own one of those,” your jaw dropped, gasping a little, “As if!” He pushes open the door to the three broomsticks, sitting you down at a table as he shrugs off his jacket, hanging it over the chair, leaving to head over to the bar, he returns with a tray carrying two drinks and a plate. “Here you go, trouble.” he puts the drink in front of you, with you now being able to spot the contents of the plate, “Bread and fries, that's my treat?” he laughs, placing a few of the chips inside the slice of buttered bread, handing you the foreign looking sandwich “If I affect your life in no other way, then allow me this honour, the humble chip butty and a butterbeer ” You gingerly take the food into your hands, looking at it cautiously before directing your attention to the drink, scanning it for a few moments, “Here we go.” you take a small bite, the softness of the bread clashed with the hot chips which had melted the butter ever so slightly, it wasn’t unpleasant but it was definitely weird, “Kind of gross, but I like it.” you pop down the sandwich, taking a sip of the butterbeer.

After a few moments of talking, you found yourself staring into Fred’s eyes deeper and for longer, as if it no longer mattered what the two of you were saying, as long as you were with each other. “There’s something about you, Y/N,” he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear “Every moment I’m with you I catch my breath.” your hand presses gently against his chest, balling up the material of his t-shirt in your hand to pull him in closer. Before you knew it, your lips had connected in a soft, gentle kiss and you felt yourself melting into his touch. You were slowly coming to realise that the thing that could aid your leaving may actually be enticing you to stay. The kiss didn’t last long but it left your head spinning.

You had made your way towards the black lake, sitting on the verge just by the water, a blanket wrapped over both your shoulders, sat talking and watching the sunset as it changed and faded the colours in the sky. You were enamoured by him. Why did you have to fall so hard for him? “I need to tell you something.” he confessed, you lift your head from where it was resting on his shoulder, “What is it?” you shift a little so that you can look into his eyes but he averts your gaze. “George and I, we’re leaving here, to set up a shop down In London, I feel guilty for not telling you sooner but I didn’t think I’d fall for you as hard as I have.” He takes a deep breath, you’re stunned for words. “I’m sorry.” he breathes out finally. You grab his face, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “Don’t ever be sorry for following your dreams, Freddie.”

In the week or so after your date with Fred, you noticed you hadn’t seen him as much and you wondered If there had been something you’d done wrong. Surely not, he must’ve just been busy planning the perfect exit, so you left him to it, until a whole two weeks had passed. You spotted him turning down a side hall, unmistakable tall, lanky, ginger - it must be him. You hurried down the corridor, yelling after the boy, “Freddie, wait!” hearing your voice made him walk a little faster, your shorter legs struggling to make a gain on him, you stop and shout once more, “Why do you keep avoiding me?” he stops bolt in his tracks, giving you an opportunity to catch up on him. “I’m surprised you want anything to do with such a plain English boy, collecting me like a trophy to brag to your Ilvermorny friends about how easy I was, or was that just another one of your cruel pranks to finally get yourself expelled?” you look up at him, brow furrowed In confusion. “Where did you get that from, Fred? I care about you, I really do.” he rolls his eyes, pushing past you, muttering under his breath, yet still audible enough for you to hear “bullshit.” You run back after him, “Freddie, you’re right, I was trying to get myself expelled, and I knew that being associated with you would do it with how much Umbridge despises you and Gorge, you have to believe that it was a horrible to do that to you at the start but- i've fallen for you.” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “It’s too late, Umbridge is already looking for you, Looks like you’ll get your wish after all.” A tear rolls down your cheek, “Freddie, I-” he cuts you off by pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I’m sorry, trouble.”

The full flood gates open, as you make your way back to Gryffindor tower, tears streaming down your cheeks but your sobs are silent. How had you managed to lose the best thing to happen to you and get yourself expelled? You admire every inch of the castle grounds as you walk, fearing it’s the last time you may see it, when a picture catches your eye, locked in a cabinet full of trophies, medals and awards, you see a reflection of yourself staring back, “mom?” you whisper, pulling out your wand to unlock it with an ‘alohomora’, you grab the picture off the shelf, locking the cabinet again. McGonagall finds you wandering aimlessly, guiding you to Dumbledore’s office, “I have a feeling you will want to speak to him before your Father arrives,” she explains “Don’t worry, he’s expecting you.”

“Ah, Miss Y/N, I see you have found your way into my office,” He speaks quickly, as you come into his view, “I remember when your mother stood not too far from where you are stood before me now; a bright young student, a star quidditch player and not to mention a true hero against all odds. I take you found the photo of her in the cabinet, as you are clutching it so tightly.” you were at a loss for words, “You knew my mom?” you questioned, “Very well indeed, She was one of the best in her year, when word arrived of her death I sent all the help I could give to your father, I told him you would always find a home here at Hogwarts.” you sighed, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “Then why am I being expelled?” you query, Dumbledore pauses for a moment, “You will learn a great many things here in your time, and already I see a change, you have gained knowledge, strength, integrity, good-will and determination. You have proven that you have the capacity to do well here and as I said Hogwarts will always be your home.” you smile, “Then I can stay, can I, Professor?” The old man chuckles “You have a quidditch game to get ready for, go out there and make your mother proud.” he smiles at you, you smile back at him gratefully. “Thank you, Professor.”

You run out, standing next to Fred, breathless from changing so quickly, “I thought you were getting expelled,” he joked, “As did I, I thought you hated me.” he sighed, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze, “Never. It’s good to have you back, trouble, even though you backed out of our deal.” you laughed, “What deal, Freddie?” you lace your fingers together, “that you won’t fry my head.” you bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Yeah, but you poached my heart.” He smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Good luck out there, trouble.” your heart flutters, “Good luck to you too, Freddie.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred and george #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter fic #wild child #au #writing

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