#have landed me finally somewhere i can thrive. even if its just temporary | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nc-vb · 3 months

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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧?

originally a commission, repurposed for readervision! writing about the ladies is fun and i should really do it more often, mhm.

notes -> pls i always forget she's 6'1", that's so frickin hot, my gawd

pairing -> quanxi x afab!time-traveler!reader*

warnings -> nsfw (18+, mdni), praise/nicknames used (*good girl), thigh riding, oral sex (reader receiving), orgasm denial, scissoring/tribbing; partial inebriation (alcohol consumption); light editing.

wc -> 4.5k

The modes of transportation in this place are… dated.

So used to seeing the various Tesla models zipping about, or the suddenly extremely common Honda Civic models, you found yourself staring a little harder at the ones that lined the street. All too obviously, the dilapidated street signs around you indicated your new location being somewhere in China. Still, there’d been an aged familiarity about the place, about all of it, from the specific way the splits in the sidewalk crackle from one end to the other, to how the trees willow overtop of them like old, gnarled hands. The glow from the street lights are all equally dull, and do little to highlight the filth the asphalt roads hold. The houses, in their decaying, years left untouched glory, are still cookie cutter enough to say that it once might’ve been a place that people both lived and thrived in— if anything, they might just exist there now. The bare minimum for any species.

But then you look in the distance, past the caved-in roofs, past the loose, swaying electrical lines and through the smog, find the fluorescent lights of the city resting just outside the horizon of this dystopian suburbia, and find that you feel at home, your own having been bright just like that.

You suppose that being at arms with a stranger in the middle of what you can only deem some kind of cacotopia must not be real. A dream or a hallucination— a nightmare, perhaps. The fact that you’ve never been to this place, this time or era, and yet, it’d been familiar. This partial hell scape with its scarred roads and patchwork housing, stuck in its darkened stasis of a temporary ceasefire? Wondering what kind of dream beasts this realm holds was unavoidable from the start, but at the very least, it still includes those in human form.

Your foe is formidable-- or, your predator, you should say. Armed thrice and practically naked in consideration for their lack of armour, wearing a thin shirt that exposes her midriff and tight black trousers, and with their one eye obscured by an eyepatch, they’re still as swift as a shadow when they charge forward, one blade extended, the other held in reverse against their forearm— usually a predictability. But they’re enough of a threat to you that you don’t bother to analyze much else any further.

If not for obeying modern physics, the stone at your feet would’ve split from the impact of your own harsh landing— without a weapon or defense of your own, you scamper out of the way of the woman’s sword, gasping at the close call. If anything, being in this strange place for so long, and being targeted by strange looking creatures and even stranger humans, has made you adept at avoiding harm.

You’re not entirely sure you can avoid it any further. You watch the attacker sheathe their defending sword and reach up toward their one exposed eye to— to… extract an arrow from within her skull, so easily as if it’d been normal to “store” it there.

“Don’t lose focus now,” they call — she calls, you finally learn, from your own language; she’d recognized it when you’d cursed at her earlier. A couple of obvious tonal sounds and inflections double down on you being somewhere in China. “I’ll be disappointed if you suddenly let me kill you, stranger.”

Slim, yet muscular. Long blonde hair. A gaze most distant, yet she still smiles, even in the middle of battle. Human? With that ability of hers, it’s unlikely; you’ve learned to differentiate that much, as short a time as you’ve spent here.

Amidst their game of cat and mouse, you can’t help but wonder if the area had been evacuated prior to Quanxi’s arrival, as if she’d been prepared to give chase, or even worse, as if she’d been prepared to fight. You don’t doubt the possibility of the woman having some kind of pull or authority in this time; as perhaps unprepared and bare as she appears, her skillset had quickly been proven. Being locked in at a coward’s stalemate for as long as you’d been, Can’t this end already?

“Please,” you pant, a hand poised in a pleading gesture. “Please stop.” The woman’s one visible eyebrow raises, her expression remaining placid. A moment later, she’s sheathing her blades.

“That’s fine with me,” she says, straightening up. “I’m pretty fond of this outfit and I’ve already scuffed the knees; it would be a shame if I tore anything else. You seem like… the civilized type, when you’re not running away. And if that’s the case, we should introduce ourselves.”

You give yours first, eager to catch your breath. The woman smiles.

“I am Quanxi. Now, tell me. The name of the Devil you’ve contracted with.”

Your expression hardens. “Devil?” you repeat.

Quanxi does not doubt further the woman’s seemingly earnest confusion. She already looks like she’s not from the area, and certainly not necessarily a native from China, either. In fact, it’d been more like she’s stepped out of one of those futuristic, science fiction movies. Your entire existence did not belong here.

Your tired vision sweeps along the street before rising to stare at Quanxi. “Where is this place?”

Testing, “Do you mean this street? This… neighbourhood? Or this world?” You don’t answer, unable. The silence, accompanied with the difficult read on the foreigner’s partial expression, is an answer enough. “It’s called Earth.”

“I know this is Earth.”

Quanxi’s lip quirks. “Then this place that you’re currently standing in, is in China. And this street, well… I’m not sure the name matters anymore. No one’s lived here in years.”

She watches you, a silence spread taut like a fishing line through the middle of your conversation as you ponder, before cutting it.

“Listen. I’m glad you decided to stop running away,” your lip curls slightly at the curtness in her words, but you don't interrupt, “but since we’ve established that you’re not from the area, and since I don’t see a… spaceship… parked anywhere… you’re probably not an alien. But, you’ve also probably got nowhere to go, hm?”

“… that’s, unfortunately, correct,” you murmur, sighing. What a headache…

“And it doesn’t seem like you’re looking to cause any trouble. Right?”

“I’m kind of in some trouble of my own, if you haven’t noticed,” you point out.

“Fair enough. Then, I’ll do you a favour. If you’d be reasonable enough to not do something as stupid as try to murder me in my sleep, I’ll invite you into my home.”

Try? I could barely run away from you.

“I’ll have to attend to some business in the morning outside the country, but, if you’re a good girl tonight, you’re welcome to stay there while I’m gone.” Your lips part to speak at the woman’s condescension, but by the absurdity of your situation, you find yourself unable to spit the words dancing behind your teeth back at her. Good girl?

“Do you need a physical invitation?” Quanxi says; you hadn’t realized she’d already begun to walk, and soundlessly trails after her. “Good.” Again? “I’ve parked several blocks north of here; it’s about a five minute walk if you’re fast about it.”

“Okay.” True to her estimation, once they’d picked up their pace, they found a sleek black automobile awaiting them only four blocks away. Compared to the older modeled cars you’ve passed, this one is at least twenty years ahead of their design.

Quanxi enters on her side before you can even open the passenger side door, and by the time you sit and shut the door behind you, the car has already belted to life, a soft rumbling heard from within its metal shell. A gear shifts, and they move.

The drive out of the dark neighbourhood where you first appeared, and into the glowing city you’d seen from afar is about three times as long as the walk had been. The luminance of the artificial light happens to be intense enough to make you squint so hard that your eyes become slits.

“Depending on how long you’re here for, you might end up getting used to it,” Quanxi says. You turn your head toward her. “Ah, well, I shouldn’t assume you don’t have these in your own home; apologies. Just, don’t stare at these ones directly. They’re definitely not up to code.”

You nod, glancing forward again.

“You aren’t very… chatty, are you,” Quanxi speculates, lowering one of her hands from the wheel to rest in her own lap.

“It’s… hard to think of something to talk about in my situation,” you say, wringing your wrists a little. “Small talk and idle conversations… is even harder.”

“You could always ask more questions.”

“I… can’t think of any.”

“Or ask if I know of a way to return you to your home.”

“And do you?”

“No. I can do a lot, but time travel?” Quanxi scoffs lightly. “Science fiction, for now. Maybe there’s a Devil out there that can do that. But, you could still have bothered to begin that conversation to see if I did.”

You pause. “Is this all a condition of me staying with you? Talking, asking questions…”

“Not at all. Simply makes for better company.”

You scoff, too, and fold your arms over your chest. “Aren’t you worried I’ll destroy your home while you’re gone? Or rob you?”

Quanxi chuckles. “Not at all. You might be lonely when I do, however. By how you greeted me earlier tonight, I should at least make sure my housekeeper doesn’t spook you away into, I don’t know, jumping out the window.”

“If I didn’t value my life, I wouldn’t have run away from you like I did. Why would I jump out the window…” The question hangs in the air, apparently a rhetorical quip.

The rest of the drive is completed in one-sided silence, Quanxi filling it with her own voice when she explains, unwarranted, the existence of Devils and what she’d meant when she’d asked you about a “contract”. It does make sense (and perhaps your interest in the subject did prove that you did have some curiosities), but you still had found yourself verily unwilling to engage in conversation, leaving your thoughts to race wildly beneath your skull.

In contrast to the surrounding buildings, Quanxi’s is not nearly as vibrant. The only lights come from the large fixed windows pressed tight between the dark brickwork; signs of life that neighbourhood from before had sorely been missing. Even the streets, despite the time, are flooded with chattering humans.

“We’re here, get out,” Quanxi says, putting the car into park and exiting it, herself. You join her on the sidewalk, where she’d just given a man a set of keys. In the corner of her vision, you watch him replace where Quanxi once sat, and drive off with her car, while the two of you enter the building.

“I’m on the penthouse level,” she tells you after pressing a button on the wall of the elevator. “It’s nothing fancy. Comfortable enough when I come home from an assignment, and for my—” Quanxi goes silent. You notice, but don’t press. The elevator chimes, announcing their arrival to the topmost level, and the doors open. “This way.”

There’s a keypad on the door, for which Quanxi types a particularly long code into before it beeps at them to enter. Whereas you take off your own boots and set them aside, Quanxi toes hers off and kicks them to the side, knocking yours over.

“A drink?” Quanxi offers.

“… water is fine.”

The penthouse is minimalist and simple, as its owner mentioned it would be. A simple living area full of couches and irregularly shaped chairs; a simple bedroom, raised up, across the room in a loft space. The bathroom and kitchen end up being the fanciest of the space, full of shining metal appliances and smooth surfaces, as white as the moon, itself.

There are but a few adornments and decorations, and you find that across the apartment, there are only a handful of photographs framed and sitting atop a long cabinet, two of which had been turned down— you recall Quanxi doing so as she’d entered ahead of you. Not one to pry — you know just as well as anyone what dredging up old memories does to a person — and with Quanxi busying herself in her kitchen, you cross over to them and quickly tip them up. Both have the woman pressed between four other girls, all with varyingly unexplainable appearances — why are her brains exposed? — but they all easily express their fondness for Quanxi.

“It’s like you’ve never been invited into someone’s home before,” Quanxi suddenly calls from around the corner. You flinch, and without making eye contact, set the frames back down with care. “It should go without me having to say the words “don’t touch anything unnecessary”.”

“Sorry,” you say.

Quanxi sighs, and extends her arm to hand the stranger a glass of clear liquid. “It’s fine. Just don’t touch them again. And try not to get curious enough that you want to ask about… them.”

You accept the glass, nodding, and take a generous gulp from it, immediately reeling.

“This isn’t water,” you say, swallowing thickly, your throat catching from the burn.

“It’s baijiu. Figured you could probably use some to relax while you’re here.” You instantly cough.

“Relax?”

“It’s not like you’ll be able to figure anything out tonight, not this late. And, not if you’re still wired into fight or flight mode. Drink this. If you’re hungry, there’s food in the fridge you can help yourself to. The bathroom is around the corner. Go and shower. I’ll grab you a change of clothing.”

Not that it’d been so severely important to, but you silently admit to her observations. Being sent stuck here and almost immediately thrust into one-sided combat against this strange woman, to being invited to her home for reprieve, has kept you tiptoeing on a jagged edge, teetering more to one side than the other. It’s discomforting. Unfamiliar.

You down the clear liquid in the glass before stalking into Quanxi’s bathroom, quick to strip yourself of your clothing before stepping into the shower. Beginning to scrub away the day’s grime from your body with a sudsy cloth, you realize you’ve yet to feel this calm thus far— must be the baijiu, you assume.

With the glass of the shower all fogged up from the steam, you don’t notice Quanxi standing in the doorway when you finally exit it. Unfocused, you jump, the towel in your hand almost slipping out of your grasp.

“I’m beginning to think,” you start, huffing out a flustered breath, “that you’re the lonely one between us.”

“Perhaps I am.” The ice in her own glass clinks against it when she takes a sip, watching you start to pat yourself dry. “I won’t argue with you. I never thought I would feel like this, even after losing them. They were only Fiends, after all. Not entirely human.”

“... does one have to be “entirely human” for someone to love them?”

“… I forgot who I was saying this to,” Quanxi muses, mostly to herself. “You’re young, after all. Insightfulness comes easier to each new generation of life.”

“Something like that,” you halfheartedly confirm, dragging the towel down each of your legs. You sigh— avoiding certain conversations may not be as easy as you’d once thought with this woman, the involvement of alcohol perhaps making it even more of a difficult probability. “Where I’m from… in my time… in my version of Earth, we don’t have different species of humans. But to be loved by anyone, by anything, even by someone non-human, is a joy, and an honour. Don’t justify them being Fiends so you don’t have to grieve over them. And… just be glad you can remember everything about them.”

She smiles back, but it’s distant; spurious. You know full well what the look is for, and decide it’s unfair to call the woman the only lonely one between them, after all.

Quanxi pushes herself off the door’s frame, stumbling very slightly out of her awkward stance.

“I was only in here for ten minutes. How did you manage to get drunk so quickly?”

“Oh, I’m not drunk,” Quanxi swears. “This is my first glass… and I’m a bit of a heavyweight. I just figure I should share some of my vulnerability with you since you’re naked in my home right now. Seems like a fair trade to me.”

You look up at her, having wrapped your head in the towel, and around the washroom.

“Your clothes. Right. I forgot to bring them in. They’re out here.”

“Could you go and grab them?”

“You’re coming back out here anyway, right? Just come and change out here.”

Your eyes narrow. The woman’s already seen her as nude as the day she’d been born, and from her own words, she now lives alone, the existence of those four girls in the photos seemingly otherwise erased from the apartment save for those photos. Being on the penthouse level on one of the tallest buildings around, it’d be unlikely for any of the neighbouring buildings to see—

“You’re overthinking it,” Quanxi calls out. “Is that something you do when you drink alcohol?”

Your attempt at sliding past her in the doorway fails, the taller of the two having lifted her arm to stop you.

“Is it?”

You sigh. Quanxi’s lip lifts into a small smile, and she drops her arm to let you pass and enter the kitchen.

“Is this where you assert yourself on me, and I lower myself into showing you my “gratitude”?” You slip on the folded burgundy tee from the counter, mentally cursing at the woman for supplying you with such a useless piece of fabric, the offending material barely reaching your navel; you shiver. “I’ve read enough fiction in my lifetime to recognize this cliché.”

“Then you must’ve read a crazy amount of sapphic erotica throughout your journey across the stars.” You shake your head and reach for the pants, ignoring Quanxi’s presence at your side. “No,” she answers, “though, I’m glad my intentions go without me having to say anything. A harmless, wordless invitation to share in a little bit of skinship with me. I won’t force you into it, but…”

In still being bare from the hips down, Quanxi dares to smooth a hand across your waist that curls an arm around your middle, and you freeze, your cool skin quick to grow warm under her touch.

“Quanxi—””It’s not lowering yourself to enjoy yourself,” she muses, right next to your ear. You blame your immodesty for the chill that sweeps down your spine. “Let me take your mind out of the stars for the night.”

It’s the alcohol. You’re drunk, too. That’s the only reason. Trying to rationalize your acceptance of the situation with false realities only embarrasses you further— you aren’t drunk. You can’t even call yourself slightly inebriated, not yet.

Then perhaps it’s your subconscious telling you to cave to Quanxi’s suggestion. To give into the strange offer of reprieve this Earth finds itself willing to give to you.

Her hands travel, soft and featherlight, across your now scalding flesh, and beneath the waistband of the sweats she’d intended on giving you. Loosening them from around your hips, she pushes them down until they slip around your ankles, and with a hand poised at the toned sculpt of her abdomen, she presses you into leaning against the counter behind you.

“Just stand there and stay pretty for me.”

Quanxi doesn’t waste another moment; not particularly keen to stop her, you lean into the hand that cups your jaw, allows her to fit her lips between yours, tries to remember the last time you’d ever kissed or had ever been kissed, and fails. With no other thoughts to keep you tethered to creating distractions for yourself, you keen forward and shift your weight onto a single foot. A small laugh huffs against your lips.

“You are enjoying yourself, aren’t you,” she murmurs. You’re about to argue the opposite, that you’d only been acting agreeable for their best interest, and open your mouth; ever the opportunist, Quanxi is quick to curl her tongue to sweep along the inside of your lips before you get the chance to utter a single word. You flinch, but your own hand stays holding Quanxi’s hips against your own.

Her thighs are thick, discovering them to be more muscular than you’d first presumed when one of them press between your own and shift upward. You gasp, a soft sound, when the coarse material of Quanxi’s denim begins sliding back and forth along your bare clit; you tremble, and grips her sides just a little firmer.

“Ah, see? You don’t have to use your words to show it.”

A hand slips around to hold your neck, Quanxi pulling her mouth hard against yours, and you moan, your breaths shared with each tilt of their head and each swirl of their tongues around the other dense, purposeful. Was it the alcohol making your mind fuzzier? Making your judgment clouded? You hadn’t yearned for something this hard in much too long a time, though it did go without saying— yes, I’m enjoying myself.

You shiver at the sudden soft pecks and harsher licks at the curve of your neck, and Quanxi grinds your crotch against her bouncing thigh a little more insistently when you’d begun to shudder.

“You’re close, right? So soon?” Reluctantly, you find yourself nodding. Quanxi hums. “Not here.” She lowers her knee almost too abruptly, and releases. Your head snaps her way, frowning.

“This isn’t how I want you to come,” she explains, decidedly tugging down her own pants and kicking them away. “Too simple.”

“Why did you stop?”

“It’s only for a moment,” Quanxi assures you. She takes one of your hands and begins pulling you toward the staircase to the loft, quick to guide you along to sitting at the edge of her plush bedding. “Don’t look so frustrated, hm?”

You scoff, but it’s choked, heart still racing from your formerly impending, now lost, orgasm.

“More condescending words of yours,” you mutter, “just like earlier.”

“Condescending words from earlier…” Quanxi pauses. “Do you mean when I called you a “good girl”?”

“Yes. It was patronizing.”

“And… if I were to call you a good girl now?” Quanxi releases her hold around your wrist and, before you can pull them back (whether you were going to or not), fits her fingers through both of yours and kneels between your legs, spreading them further apart with her shoulders. Your entire body flinches, and your arms both jerk upwards with nowhere to go. “Is that still me being condescending? Or…” Quanxi tilts her head forward once more, and licks a stripe upward against your quiver. “… maybe it’s patronizing now?”

“Y-You’ve… well surpassed the definition of both of those words,” you groan.

“Maybe.” Quanxi’s tongue curls, catching on the hood of your clit. You gasp. “But look at you, my little time-traveling friend, behaving so well for me. I think this deserves a little bit of praise; a small reward.”

“Stop talking about it and give it to me, then.”

Quanxi doesn’t speak again, having suddenly busied herself with the wet kisses she supplied to your cunt. Your eyes fly upward to meet hers, tongue flicking so frustratingly calculated between your folds. You stir, arms twitching impatiently in her hold with nowhere to go— until she releases them again. Unable to help herself, you lurch forward, one hand pressing the woman between your thighs deeper into you, the other clawing at the sheets beneath you. When Quanxi goes to mumble something, not bothering to remove her tongue from against you, you send a hazy glare her way.

“Don’t talk, j-just—!” Quanxi’s grip shifts, instead to wind her arms around your thighs when your squirming becomes too uncontrolled. You cry out, a sharp noise that ends up startling you back into biting down on your own lip, as Quanxi suckles on your swollen bud. It’s impossible to stop her, to want to stop her; your hold on her head lessens, though it’s only when your legs begin to tremble in their attempt to fold shut, and when your voice catches in her throat that Quanxi finally pulls away, lips and chin glistening under the moonlight and hair slightly disheveled, and you groan again, a noise that grows progressively louder and more frustrated as the blonde rises back onto her feet.

“I never specified if you’d be the only one getting rewarded,” Quanxi points out, chuckling. “Keep your legs open.”

You manage a frown, but still hold your thighs apart for Quanxi to straddle you. Your hips buck, feeling the sudden pressure, the sudden heat and slick press against her; Quanxi doesn’t waste another moment, having been denying even herself the pleasure she’d now twice ripped away from you— punishment for the frustratingly short answers you’d provided throughout the evening.

Hands falling next to your head to grip the blanket, she rocks forward, lower back instinctively arching upon the friction finally reaching her— Quanxi moans, and you, impatient and shuddering once more, reach behind Quanxi to grab at her ass to pull her tighter into you.

“So eager,” Quanxi groans. Jerkily, she forces your shirt up over your breasts, nipples pert from your arousal, and dips her head down to wrap her lips around one, tongue swirling.

“Quanxi, I—” she pops away, gasping, hips still gyrating and pelvis grinding into yours with such a desperate fervour; she suddenly swivels herself and takes hold of your leg from under her knee, bringing it upwards. “Quanxi—”

“Go on, then,” Quanxi pants. Both mouths dripping, she takes her tongue and drags it up your calf. “Come for me, my little time-traveler.”

You choke on your breath, and your hands seize for Quanxi to hold her in position while you suddenly flip her around, grinding down on her, instead. Teeth gritted, Quanxi pulls and tugs at the sheets, moaning with the sweet relief of her own orgasm, and you tremble, crying out soft and low from the washing over of — finally, finally — your own pleasure.

Spent, you huff at the one-eyed woman when you lower herself down fully onto her pelvis. “Don’t… call me that ever again.”

Quanxi’s laugh is one of disbelief, and has you reddening above her.

“I was supposed to have an early night… I can always sleep on the plane.”

#quanxi x reader #afab reader #quanxi x y/n #csm x reader #quanxi smut #csm smut #csm quanxi #wlw #quanxi wlw

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husbandohunter · 3 years

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Moments of Despair #2 [Genshin Impact/Albedo x Reader]

Synopsis: "The alchemist who relished in his gifts only to fall from grace."

(A series of works where the boys deal with the passing of their beloved).

Diluc’s despair

Warnings: angst, tragedy, major character death and psychological horror (correct me if otherwise)

(A/n): I decided to take a slightly different approach this time. Regardless, it’s still killing my heart TwT.

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Out of the many wonders of Teyvat, one thing Albedo loved most was how you were so different from him.

Difference ties to the unknown, one that must be discovered. He was drawn to you the first time he had laid his eyes upon your form standing at the heights of Mondstadt's cathedral. The Sisters scolded you from below, but all you did was reply with a wink amidst their chaos before soaring into the skies and letting the wind carry your glider. Reckless they said. For him, your recklessness was intriguing.

As the sun's light blinded his vision, everything he saw seemed like a glass barrier. For the ground was where he thrived and chalk was his core, it became the basis of Albedo's very existence. Even the geo Archon granted him a Vision of the same element to affirm his identity. The earth will forever be attached to his feet as he will keep on his stride until every last truth of Teyvat have all been realized. You, on the other hand, hailed from a place where he couldn't quite reach. What lies beyond this glass ceiling? Albedo found himself gradually holding onto a string of curiosities, a string he could touch but was not able to feel.

'Interesting,' he thought quietly, while the breeze slip between the fingers of his outstretched hand.

He was a character of logic, possessing sharp eyes that could pierce through the depths of the most complex formulas and a mind to predict their outcomes- as long as alchemy was still related. All impossibilities thrown in his way only paved a path for him to become the well known genius he was now. Whether it was alchemy or investigations with the Knights of Favonius, Albedo never failed to deliver the answers. But despite it all, he always found himself endlessly contemplating over things that were considered intangible. He wonders why you smile when there was nothing to laugh about. How could you tell between the complexities of the human heart? Albedo can't seem to put a finger on it.

'Why? What drives you? What are you thinking?'

The Chief Alchemist couldn't resist being fascinated by your unpredictability. It reels him in similar to a fish being baited out of the waters. However, unlike those creatures, Albedo only tightened his grip on the strings as if they were a lifeline, determined to find out what they truly felt like to the touch.

"I can't really say it's much of an answer," you hummed, clasping both hands behind your back before declaring with a grin, "To put it simply, you just gotta follow your heart."

'Follow your heart...' What does it mean to follow your heart?

"I'm afraid I still don't understand," he replied in a thoughtful manner. The statement never really resonated with him and it certainly weren't the words his Master taught when he was in the early stages of being created, "But it does suit you very much."

"Really? But still bring your head with you," a playful laugh escapes and you add while pointing a finger, "At least, it's what everyone tells me these days."

"Hm," Albedo then affirms with a nod, "I can definitely see why they would tell you that."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

The days go by and his repetitious march towards the truth remains the same. However, there was never a dull moment when you were at his side. Perhaps that was the reason why Albedo became so attracted to your aura. The way you'd follow around his experiments, eyes so full of enthusiasm at every step of the activity. Sometimes the events can get a little too out of hand in which he needs to step in and save you from getting stuck in slime condensates...constantly. Albedo grew fond of your childlike excitement even when you weren't entirely sure what was going on. He normally distanced himself from socializing as it never sparked his interest. Frankly, he was too much of a genius for mundane conversations. Your presence was rather refreshing in this case. You were an oddball, just like him, and for once the alchemist felt like he didn't need to place that glass barrier between the two worlds.

"You seem to be in a very good mood today Mister Albedo."

He was a man of subtle expressions yet anyone could notice the small gleam in his eyes whenever he saw you walking in the hallway. Sucrose often remarked with a giggle after she noticed her teacher holding his documents upside down. But who could blame him? Joy, fun, laughter. He was able to experience those emotions all because of you; his beloved. You were the colour to his canvas and the meaning to his flower. You were a force of nature. Like a warm breeze gracing upon the terrestrial lands, you move him.

Thump- thump- thump-

Strings around his world began to weave one whole picture while they also tugged inside his chest. God had finally blown the breath of life into mankind's body, it was only a matter of time before Albedo came to follow his heart too.

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"Alright, just one more detail aaaaand done!"

You gave a small tap using the tip of your pencil and leaned back to examine your artwork.

Masterpiece!

On days when Katheryne had no commissions assigned to the guild, Albedo would accompany you to the Whispering Woods and conduct his sketches there instead. He was aware of the discomfort Dragonspine brought as the temperature wasn't ideal for anyone except for him. You eventually learned that your lover was not only intelligently different from the rest but physically too. Albedo, aside from the Cavalry Captain, was mysterious in his own way. He was hard to read yet never came off as intimidating, no one knew of his origins nor they knew how he came to Mondstadt. You wondered why someone like him would have wanted to get involved with your shenanigans. Rosaria often gave warnings regarding the alchemist's 'hidden intentions' in which you'd roll your eyes in response. The Albedo you knew was far from that. He was a big brother to Klee, a man passionate about his work, he was the one golden star among the many silvers in your sky. He was your lover.

My Albedo.

Brushing a hand upon the drawing you made of him, you glided down the lines of his cheek before resting your finger on the mark by his neck. You gazed at it with fondness. Truly a masterpiece indeed.

"You do realize I'm still here?"

The paper nearly flies out of your grasp and you snatched it back to your chest, "HUH A-ALBEDO, WHEN DID YOU APPEAR???"

"I was with you the whole time," he states. The corner of his lip tug upward ever so slightly, "You said you wanted to sketch me."

"A-Ahahaha, so I did," you reply while scratching your head bashfully. 'I thought I was looking at a sculpture!!' You rushed to cover your face with the sheet. It wasn't that you forgot he was there, rather, you forgot he was still a living and breathing specimen who just witnessed your little serenade. As Lisa had once said, Albedo was easy on the eyes. His graceful features made him seem almost like an oil painting that could only be found in halls of the most prestigious households. You made sure to capture everything, every detail, every curve just like he had done with your portraits. Only now you noticed the sun already began its descent below the lakeside, dusting the landscape with hints of bright orange as it marked the day's end. If only time could slow down. But duty calls upon your next journey and there was no telling when you'd return. At the very least, a simple portrait would suffice to fill in the temporary gap of his absence.

"Can I see it?"

You glanced his direction while keeping the drawing close to your nose, "Are you sure about that? It might not be up to your expectations."

"I'm sure," Albedo affirms with a straight countenance, "I can already tell you've put a great amount of effort, otherwise you wouldn't have taken this long."

"Yeeaahh I kinda lost track of time. I guess it's only fair that you get to see the finished product," you say and shoved the drawing in front of him, "Tada! I present to you, my masterpiece!"

Albedo takes it out of your grasp and you watched the way his eyes expanded upon sight.

"Well? Whaddya think?"

Words could not describe the mixture of emotions that erupted within him. Was it distinguishable or abstract? Albedo spent his time pondering between the two answers as he examined the drawing closely. Despite the lines being slightly jagged and the unevenness in the placement of his eyes, he managed to make the shape of the entire image you were trying to convey. Perhaps it was all thanks to his well trained artistic vision which gave him the ability to do so. Or maybe he was simply biased. But there wasn't a shred of doubt that this was indeed your craftsmanship.

"You even added flowers in the background," he pointed out with amusement.

"It's the thing you make when using your elemental burst, I couldn't fit your hand in the picture so I decided to put it somewhere empty," you informed, "Out of everything, that one took me the longest."

"And the rabbits?"

"They resemble Klee's bombs!"

He lets out a chuckle, "I see."

Albedo kept his attention downward until he was mindlessly staring at the paper in hand. This was a memory made to be carried as you moved on to your next journey and it saddens him that he could not accompany you. If only time slowed down. Albedo wanted to hold onto the memory forever, because he knew once he gave it back, he wouldn't be able to see you for an uncertain amount of time.

"Do you really have to go?"

His voice was barely above a whisper. Guilt crept into your heart and you gingerly layed your fingers on his gloved ones, bringing down the paper that blocked his face. A pair of teal orbs held a reflection of your image as the sun's rays casted from the side. You returned it with a reassuring grin, hoping to soothe his worries somehow, "I just need to pay a visit to my father since he's been very sick lately. I'll be fine, so don't worry too much okay?"

Albedo turns over his palm and gave your hand a squeeze, "How long will it take?"

"I'm not sure but it will be a while. Snezhnaya is pretty far so..." you trailed off, "But my time in Mondstadt, with Klee and with you, I will never forget! I won't even if I tried."

When you were met with no answer, a breeze came in to fill the melancholic silence. He too will not forget and he would ensure that it was the same for you. Slowly, Albedo brought your hand up, past the center of his heart all the way to cupping his cheek. He allowed himself to indulge in your warmth, tangling the strands of his hair with your fingers while closing his eyes. Sweet flowers. You always carried the smell of sweet flowers.

"Albedo?" You gawked, "What's the matter?"

"...There are certain aspects where drawings can't imitate," he says, grip tightening ever so slightly, "How I feel against your skin, the shape of my jaw, your warmth radiating with my own. These are the things I want you to remember."

Breath leaves your slightly parted mouth. It was unfair how straightforward Albedo could be when showing his affection. Doing as he pleases without anyone's approval to the point it would even catch you off guard since he often absorbed himself in the arts of alchemy. But during times when Albedo did choose to express his feelings, you knew they came from a place of pure genuinity. The thought made it hard for you to tear away from him, "Did you ever find out what the strings felt like then?"

Albedo returns his gaze, long golden lashes hovering them as he smiles softly, "...I have."

As he began to reveal his stories, the dusk sky continued to flare across the landscape with colours of passion. Red, it was the thread that had led him to you, the same string that weaved him together as a whole. Albedo lays a kiss atop of your pinky, there was a reason why Mondstadtians called him the Chalk Prince. You didn't know the intention behind his sudden affection but he knew. It was a promise, one to ensure that the thread would also have you return safely back into his arms.

Oh how he hated the colour red.

"Al...bedo..."

With speed he never knew he had, Albedo scoops you into his embrace and held you close. How did everything happen so fast? He curses his mind as it proceeds to scan your injuries, drawing a conclusion where he wished to be wrong for once:

You were beyond help.

"Ah..haha..." you managed to laugh through bitter tears, "You don't have to say it. I know."

His breath hitches, trying to make sense of the feeling that was slowly tearing him apart from the inside. It's not real. Of course it wasn't, it couldn't be. What other possible answer was there to explain the numbness stinging his fingers? The reason for his shaking? Everything felt so cold. Your body hardly registered to his to touch, you were losing so much blood. You were losing. He was going to lose you.

"No," Albedo shakes his head, "We still have time. I'll go find help."

Please, hold on.

He forced himself to think. The ruin hunter ran off shortly after it had ambushed you, by now the Knights would eventually noticed and apprehended it on sight. They couldn't be too far. All he needed was to carry you back to safety and everyone can go home. Albedo darted his eyes all over the place, breaths becoming shallower with each passing second. Where? Where to go? Which route was best to not overexert your wounds? Think. Think. Think. Why couldn't he think?

"A..." You watched him in your helpless state. Every part of you throbbed with pain but it pains you even more to see the renowned genius who stood atop the pedestal of elegance and grace so utterly, undoubtedly lost. This was not the goodbye you wanted, though death already had you tight in their grasps. Not yet. Using the last particle of your strength, you tried to stay alive as long as possible. Just a little bit more time.

Albedo freezes when a trembling hand extends itself to cup around his cheek. Every single thought he had in mind vanished and was replaced by a loud ring resonating in his ears. Dreadfully, mechanically, he turns his attention to where you lay.

"Don't cry," you whisper, "I love you, don't cry- okay?"

Albedo grimaces, shutting his eyes closed as he allows the pent up sadness to flow out of him completely, "I can't," he said in a shaky voice, "Please. Stay."

"I'm sorry," Your vision blurs and he hugs you even more. Drawing your final breath, you relay your most cherished words through a broken smile, "But no matter w-where I go...I won't for..ge.."

The moment your hand fell, Albedo finally understood the difference between death and loss.

It was...suffocating. Having the air trapped in his throat, begging to release yet it hurts to speak. The never ending stabs that pulsed within his veins rushed forth like the scraping blizzard of Dragonspine until his whole body lost all its senses. The world was shattering. He could no longer feel your weight. He could no longer feel.

(Y/n).

Albedo glances at his blood stained fingers where the thread had been severed, wide eyes drowning in sorrow. What a horrible feeling. Was this a warning sent by the gods? For stepping into the boundaries of knowing too much? Ah the curse of knowledge man must bear when eating the temptatious fruit. It was the result of choosing to love you. With life, death is inevitable and with love, it will eventually bring pain. Everything had a price to pay and as an alchemist, Albedo knew that better than anyone.

"...Meaningless..."

But he refused to accept it.

Cradling your corpse, he leans in and places a kiss on your forehead, lips quivering as they lingered for a second too long before gathering the strength to stand back on his feet. Nothing will stop the alchemist from reuniting with you. If the laws wished to take you away from him then he will use everything in his power to fight against those laws.

"This is not goodbye..." Albedo said to the sleeping girl, "And it will never be."

When the sun sinks below the plains and the stars lose their light, the sky had been replaced with a palette of darkness. It was time to go home.

------

"Have you all heard about the rumours?"

A group of knights gather in the corner as they whisper about. Sucrose stops on her tracks and hides behind a wall, clutching the book close to her chest in an attempt to stay hidden.

"Another criminal disappeared from the dungeons? Crazy..."

"More like creepy. I was told that place might be haunted by some dead prisoner's ghost. Even the Church is hopping onto this case."

"Well I hope it doesn't get any worse. So many of us started going on night patrols..."

Their voices faded out of range as the anemo user backtracks her steps carefully. Several months passed since the news of mysterious kidnappings have been announced to the public. Rumours of their whereabouts swirled around the city and much to her discomfort, Sucrose happened to catch every single one of them. There couldn't possibly be evil spirits lurking in the Favonious Headquarters right? She silently shrieks at the thought, shaking her head furiously to stop her mind from going too deep. No, I have to find him. Without wasting another minute, the anemo user sprinted towards the stairs all the way up to the second floor before stopping directly in front of her teacher's office. Despite the adrenaline that occured at the same time, she made sure to knock.

No answer.

"Strange, he told me he would be here today..." Sucrose muttered to herself. But suddenly she heard the sound of objects shifting from the otherside, signaling that there was indeed someone occupying the room. Without realizing, she held her breath out of anticipation.

"Come in."

The door creaks as she opens them, giving her enough space to slip between the gap, "Mister Albedo?"

"You're early today," The Chief Alchemist noted from his desk, "Is there something the matter?"

"Y-You mean you don't know? There was just another case about a person disappearing from the dungeons," Her tone became more frantic as she rambled to herself, "The kidnapper never leaves a trace and no one knows how they were able to get out. Even when we ask the guards what happened, they can't seem to remember as if...as if someone casted a spell on them!"

"A spell?" He inquires, "I suppose that could be a possibility."

"I think so too. I-It's the only explanation that makes sense! I mean...ghosts don't exist after all," Sucrose nervously looks down at her shoes while giving her book a squeeze, "But why? Who could be capable of such advanced techniques? No matter how hard I try, I can't seem to understand their intentions."

"...Yes. It is a very strange occurrence indeed."

Noticing her teacher's withdrawn attitude, Sucrose couldn't help but feel flustered at her own behaviour, "Ah my apologies Mister Albedo, I didn't mean to go off track. Have there been any progress on the investigations so far?"

Albedo briefly glanced at the various documents splayed across his table. His reputation as an incredibly intelligent individual had reached far and wide through Mondstadt. This led to the authorities requesting his assistance regarding the recent matters, despite him specializing in the alchemical field, he was also the Captain of their Investigation Team. Although, Albedo detested partaking in things he deemed irrelevant to his research;

"I'm afraid I would need more evidence to draw a conclusion."

"Eh? You still need more?"

He could not deny that the given authoritative position had provided much benefits to his own accord.

"My expertise lies in the subject of alchemy," Albedo reasoned and proceeds to intertwine his fingers in front of his mouth, "Humans on the other hand, are very unpredictable in nature. Even the essence of their existence is hard to obtain."

"Essence of their existence?" Sucrose repeated softly. She wanted to ask what he meant but the blank expression was evident enough to signal his impatience. At least, that was what she thought, "Nevermind! I have something that might help," taking out a slip from her textbook, she handed it to him, "It's the report Captain Kaeya gave me. He said that the culprit might be a traitor coming from the Knights of Favonius."

He narrows his eyes.

"I-I think he might be right! Just think about it, we haven't found anything at all for the past few months but when we do, I sometimes feel like we're just running in circles...oh what if it's becau-"

"Sucrose."

"Y-Yes?!"

Albedo calmly looks at the flustered girl, not realizing how sharp his tone was, "You're overthinking again. Perhaps it's best that you take this day off."

"But I came here to help," she insisted, "I know it hurts to lose someone you love! Don't you understand that we're all worried about you? And Klee, she..."

"..."

"Please Mister Albedo, if there's anything I could do-"

"No need," he cuts her off once again, "Your stress levels are too high. We can't go any further if you continue to act like this."

"Oh," her ruby eyes casted to the side, "I understand..."

"Good. Now, if you would excuse me," Albedo bid her farewell and watched as the door clicked behind her, observing every detail until he was sure that the absolute silence had returned. He picks up Kaeya's document. Such remarkable handwriting. But of course, appearances are only meant to be displayed on the surface for the Captain was a sly man, wearing a mask to shield what lies underneath. Just like his letter, they were full of innuendos and condensed meanings, orchestrated together until the truth spoke loudly to Albedo himself.

"So, that's what he thinks."

Perhaps the alchemist should have been a little more discreet.

--------

There was a certain place in Dragonspine that no one dared to enter. But those who have, they never return.

"Hm, no response. Now as for the next step..."

And he was the reason why.

Taking the sword out of the transmutation circle, Albedo turned to the snowy hill nearby and activated his alchemy. A small portion of it dissipates, revealing a trench that went so deep underground that even warmth couldn't outplay the sheer cold. It was the perfect hiding place for the evidence to lay out of sight and an environment where only he could handle. The alchemist tossed the leftover along with the others before exiting quietly, summoning back the ice to bury his victims once again. Another day, another experiment, another stain goes to his title. The path he walked upon was one littered with corpses and the sins he committed. But despite the bones crunching beneath his feet and the weight of the dead hanging on his shoulders, the alchemist was numb to it all. Like an entity floating in space with nothing to hold, he became unable to feel.

"I'm back," When reaching the center of Starglow Cavern, Albedo puts his hand on the icicle and caressed it's hard cold surface, "Did you sleep well?"

The girl did not respond. Her eyes were closed and her skin was as young as ever. She was frozen in time.

"You must have."

Albedo felt the sword beginning to shake in his grasp as it resonated with his energy. Dust particles emitted from the hilt and slowly made their climb to the side of his arm. Still, Albedo's attention did not waver, "To this day, I've been thinking about what you told me the first time we met."

"..."

"Follow your heart. I couldn't understand it at first but after being around your presence, I believe I can finally recognize what that term means."

He closes his eyes as he envisioned your lively form running across the landscape. Albedo, Albedo! The sound of his name was mixed with your laughter while Klee came into the scene and caught the dandelions with you. A content smile formed on his countenance as he watched from afar, even if it was just a memory, "It's everything. The breakfast we ate together, to the nights spent camping outside, and the silly moments we shared, they bring all these colours that I never knew existed."

"..."

Albedo curls his fingers against the ice as he continues to lament, "Perhaps that's why I began noticing the strings around me. The closer I was to answer, the more I felt it was necessary to discover what they are. All this time, you were the answer I was searching for," Moist begins to build up in his eyes but they freeze up once reaching the corners. How cruel. Despite what he went through, he wasn't even granted the liberty to cry, "Because with you, I'm able to feel them."

He wonders what you would think if you saw him right now. Albedo peers at his reflection casted on the crystalline surface, the frame of his face had been decorated with streaks of purple and red, spreading out like tree branches as they both fought for dominance. The teal coloured orbs you once adored were beginning to transform to a colour that reminded him of his darkest days. This was Albedo's true nature- a monster, a being that wasn't human, the essence in which you never had the chance to see.

"I know I may not be the same as I was before," he added, "But if that is what it takes to follow your heart, will you let me feel the strings again?"

Would you still love me the same?

"..."

"If so, then please understand my actions," Albedo takes a step back as he held out the sword in front of him. At last, the preparations have finally been completed. He plunges the blade to the ground with full force and the surrounding area begins to shake under the power accumulated through many, intentional sacrifices. To revive the dead was a forbidden art as it came with heavy consequences. If it weren't for Albedo's talent and quick wit, the process would have consumed him long before executing the last stage. He winces, the pain was excruciating. It was hard for him to ignore the sound of his skin cracking below his ears and all the way to his nose as they fall off in the shape of small rock-like chunks. Everything hurt so much that even death sounded like a sweet dream but Albedo couldn't afford to give up. He had already come this far, his hands completely washed with sin and his reputation already broken beyond repair, Albedo had nowhere else to go. This was his last destination.

"Soon-" he pants between choked breaths. Soon your eyes will open. He could drown in your embrace, one that was warm and not cold. Soon he will be able revive those cherished memories from a frozen past. It was all he could think of right now. Your existence was the reason why a part of him felt whole and your death made him realize how painful it was to tear away those pieces. Albedo refused to let go of those pieces, they had already become a part of him. And if this path ended up tearing him even more, then so be it.

"I should have stopped you the moment you were born."

The intruder snapped him awake and he swung around to where they stood. But before Albedo could make out who it was, they lunged past him with incredible speed, kicking the sword off the ground while severing his two arms once and for all. They flew to the side, blood dyed purple trickling from the edges of his joint as he struggled to stay upright.

"Dains...leif..."

Dainsleif watched the alchemist fall onto his back as the light around him slowly faded away. He turned his gaze to where the objective was and noticed a girl encased within the ice. The man sighs out of relief when she shows no signs of life, he came just in time, "So this is how it ends."

Albedo weakly stared at the blonde man. He attempted to say something but the blood caught in his mouth prevented him from that.

"Save your breath, you won't be having any," Dainsleif remarks in a cold manner and glared at his bloodied form, "The renowned Chief Alchemist of Mondstadt and an important member of Ordo Favonious. Hmph, what an interesting turn of events. Out of everyone, I never thought you were the type to act so foolish."

Foolish...what a foreign name to be called as. He never heard anyone tell him he was foolish.

"Truly a pity," With a flick of a wrist, Dainsleif brought his sword to Albedo's neck. It was unbelievable how he had the endurance to go through all that pain while still breathing at this point but what is there to be expected from a monster? "Remember that all actions have consequences."

The alchemist watched as his life flashed before him, the weight of his sins had finally caught up. He had always seen the world as a platform for his objectives and results were merely a natural cause after attempting many experiments. But death as a consequences was an unbearble realization upon his final moments. He abandoned his title, his pupil and his dearest sister. In the end, he was still unable to fulfill his duty.

"I just..." Albedo mumbled, his words slurring together, "wanted..."

As the ashes turn to ashes and dust becomes dust, chalk returns to the earth, forever yearning a place that can never be reached.

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #albedo #albedo x reader #genshin albedo #genshin impact albedo #genshin x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin headcanons #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #nya-writes #dainsleif #genshin impact dainsleif #sucrose

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makeste · 3 years

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literally just another giant post of Bakugou faces.

so I did this last year, but I only got up to chapter 120 before I ran out of steam. happily, though, this left me with an additional 190 chapters’ worth of glorious gremlin faces to choose from for this year’s edition! which I figure I had better do, before tumblr finally pulls the plug on my poor sweet image limit.

so without further ado, happy birthday to Kacchan, and happy birthday to Kacchan’s asymmetrical HAH face where his eyes do the thing like ( ◣益◢).

why I like it: so this is from Kirishima’s flashback in chapter 133, where Kirishima was getting all down on himself because his quirk Only Does One Thing, and Kacchan was all “nah bro don’t worry about it because your One Thing is totally fucking rad, and you’re strong enough to withstand anything.” so that of course was incredibly sweet, and one of the few times we’ve seen him give an actual heartfelt pep talk without so much as a single insult thrown into the mix. but what really puts this scene over the top for me is the fact that you can see the ever-so-subtle hints of guilt and regret when he talks about All Might and Kamino. for just a moment, he gets this distant look in his eyes, and his expression turns soft and contemplative. basically this is a rare collector’s edition Kacchan face you will not find in many other places.

why I like it: because this frankly needs to happen in every damn fight until this kid finally gets it through his thick skull to ditch the mask so we can see every fantastic facial expression in full 4k glory. work with me here please Kacchan.

why I like it: because character growth!! this was our first big moment of post-DvK2 Kacchan development, and the payoff was well worth the wait. it only took him 166 chapters to realize that it’s hard to grow as a person if you’re determined to be a humongous dick to every single person you meet!! lmao, but it’s progress though.

why I like it: these two panels are criminally underrated. the way his face transforms when Deku gets the answer wrong dlkjfldk. this is easily one of the funniest subtle gags in the entire series.

why I like it: “hey Bakugou do you want to play in our band?” “fuck you, no.” “pretty please.” “fine, but I refuse to call it a band.” “well then what do you want to call it -- ” “MURDER.”

why I like it: GONNA MURDER EVERYONE BY PLAYING THE DRUMS!!!! SOMEHOW WE’VE SUCCESSFULLY COMPARTMENTALIZED THIS SCHOOL-SANCTIONED DISPLAY OF PERFORMING ARTS AS A DEATH MATCH. OH TO UNDERSTAND THE INNER WORKINGS OF THIS YOUNG MAN’S MIND.

why I like it: hah?! I love how he has to tilt his neck all the way back every single time he does this. he’s so cute I love him so much.

why I like it: somewhere around this point in the manga Kacchan decided to do away with being handsome and decided to just be a full-time gremlin in every single panel. this persisted for the next 90 chapters or so and he was very dedicated. I’m pretty sure he was going for vulgar and intimidating, but unfortunately for him he’s too inherently adorable and so the end result is just endearing and almost charming in its own way.

why I like it: this was from chapter 194 when Aizawa was announcing that they’d have a special guest for the Joint Training arc, and so Kacchan was all “BOY OH BOY A NEW ASS TO KICK.”

why I like it: more character development! and just look at that confidence! he’s fully recovered from his low point after Kamino and the provisional exam. he knows what he’s about now, and he is THRIVING. and once again you can see how his conviction inspires the people around him and makes them more determined. just, he is going to be such a good number one hero you guys.

why I like it: it’s the three little “!!!” lines hovering in the corner next to his head for me. “oh my god it’s All Might, All Might saw me being cool and Saving To Win and stuff, what’s he gonna say what do I do omg quick act natural.”

why I like it: QUICK HIDE YOUR FEELINGS!! WE CAN’T LET THE NEIGHBORS KNOW WE CARE. fjkdlsjklk

why I like it: this is his expression when he first sees Deku activate Blackwhip for the first time. it’s one of the few unguarded expressions of complete surprise that we’ve gotten from him and I love it thank you.

why I like it: classic asymmetrical HAH face. he truly has perfected this look. look at him, casually clinging to a pole for no reason other than to look dynamic. this boy truly cannot sit or stand or walk or do anything normally. he spent three months working his ass off to catch up to Deku and the others, and now that he finally has he’s filled with so much pent-up energy that he simply cannot hold it back anymore and he’s gotta climb a pole. he’s just gotta.

why I like it: because he is so fucking good at saving people now you guys, he’s like a whole-ass professional and shit, and yet it hasn’t changed who he is one single iota. he will save your life and he will SCREAM AT YOU WHILE DOING IT and you’ll sit there and be grateful goddammit.

why I like it: o noo he was caught unawares. All Might was all “I’m gonna have a dad moment and nobody can stop me” and he walked right up to him and put his hand on his head because he’s All Might and so what is he even gonna do about it. nothing, that’s what. you got played, Kacchan. outmaneuvered and outfoxed. all he can do is stand there and make that grumpy face he makes when he’s receiving unwanted affection (҂⌣̀_⌣́).

why I like it: more unwanted affection. now they’re even feeding him ffs. how could he let this happen. mm chicken.

why I like it: GREATEST ASYMETRICAL HAH?! FACE OF ALL TIME. out of all the people to befriend him against his will, Todoroki is by far the most confusing to him and it’s just so great.

why I like it: this is when Hawks is staring at him in chapter 244 because he fake-killed his mentor and stuff and he feels sorta guilty about it. but meanwhile Kacchan just thinks he’s trying to start some shit, and so he’s all “I WAS FASTER THAN YOU BACK THERE YOU KNOW” and Hawks is all “hahaha okay little buddy you just keep telling yourself that”, because as previously discussed Kacchan is too adorable to ever be intimidating.

why I like it: this is from 246 when he’s in the middle of arguing with Burnin’ and all of a sudden Endeavor calls to him and he’s just like o shit what’d I do.

why I like it: because Endeavor’s mentoring them and shit and he’s just casually sitting there eating his lunch like yeah. with his lil hamster cheeks lulz.

why I like it: the look that instantly became iconic. this panel cured me of the misconception that Bakugou “goes to bed at 8:30pm” Katsuki was a morning person. the truth is he loathes all times of the day equally.

why I like it: this one is a team effort because Deku’s faces are equally as good. I’m genuinely shocked that this family dinner with the Todorokis didn’t prematurely unlock Danger Sense. you can tell that he and Deku have a silent agreement to call a temporary truce on their rivalry for as long as they sit at this table as outsiders in this strange land. this is by far the most hazardous meal Bakugou has ever experienced, and yet the mapo tofu is too good to go to waste, so he’s just shoveling it down his throat trying to finish as much as possible before shit inevitably hits the fan.

why I like it: Kacchan is New Here so he doesn’t yet realize that if the Todorokis are spilling family secrets, there is always inevitably going to be someone listening in the shadows just outside the door.

why I like it: the battle with Ending was probably peak gremlin!Kacchan. like, we’ve had gremlin before and afterwards, but never quite to this same degree. Horikoshi really decided to push the limits of contorting this child’s face in the strangest ways.

why I like it: peak. gremlin.

why I like it: nothing to see here, just Kacchan quietly realizing after 252 chapters that he MIGHT have been just a BIT of a cartoonishly villainous asshole to Deku back at the beginning there ha ha ha oh god oh fuck.

why I like it: because he found the answer to What It Is That He Lacks, and he’s all cool and calm and infuriatingly secretive about it. it’s such a sudden and stark contrast to the gremlin faces he was making only moments earlier, and it makes this moment hit home that much more.

why I like it: because this is him being friends with Deku!! like for real though!! because he’s fucking around and insulting him and making weird faces and stuff, but it’s because in his mind That’s What Friends Do. they clown on each other and help each other train and shit. half an hour after this they’ll go down to the training gym and play Catch-A-Kacchan, and then he’ll quietly confess to All Might that he wants to atone. he may be a gremlin, but he’s a gremlin with layers goddammit.

why I like it: because this is right after TomurAFO shows up out of nowhere and scares the shit out of him and Deku and makes them see a terrifying death vision and stuff, and you can see how shaken up he is by it. he definitely understands how close they came to dying just then and he’s sobered the fuck up. this is the moment when it really sinks in that shit has gotten real. eight minutes from now he’ll move without thinking and save Deku’s life.

why I like it: hydro homies. nothing restores those electrolytes like good old Raquaius Sports Drink.

why I like it: because this panel was when it started to become clear that the real reason he grabbed this sports drink was to pretend like he was busy so he could act like he wasn’t interested in Deku’s training because god forbid the neighbors know that he actually cares.

why I like it: because the sideways glance!! and the fact that he doesn’t deny it!! in fact he does the opposite of denying it, and he basically starts pouring his heart out about how goddamn worried he actually is. he’s guilty and anxious and restless and this entire conversation is amazing.

why I like it: he looks so goddamn young here. when he finally stops scrunching up his face and putting on his usual tough guy act and for once allows his actual emotions to show on his face instead, the result is so damn striking. for once we got an entire conversation with no gremlin faces, because Horikoshi had to drop them completely in order to show just how serious he is here. which was incredibly effective btw.

why I like it: because he’s basically just fidgeting with the bottle now to avoid making eye contact with All Might because he just revealed a deep dark secret to him and he’s precariously vulnerable right now. that’s the body language of a kid who knows how badly he fucked up, and just wants to hear from someone else if it’s going to be okay, if he can still make it okay. he looks so small here.

why I like it: the worry lines under his eyes. the look of uncertainty and wanting to believe that what All Might says is true (“you’ll get a chance to talk eventually”). the hesitance to turn back and look at him, and the way he doesn’t dare until he finally gets that small bit of reassurance. All Might isn’t judging him. All Might understands him and understands where he’s coming from, and he’s giving him his blessing. he’s giving him a thumbs up and reassuring him that he sees the change in him and sees that he’s sincerely trying, and basically saying that he has faith that he and Deku will be able to work it out. and you can see that it means a lot.

why I like it: because this kid spent his entire internship with Jeanist doing nothing but bitching nonstop, and then later on when Jeanist went missing he was all tight-lipped about it because once again NOBODY CAN KNOW THAT WE CARE GODDAMMIT, and it was all very Classic Bakugou. but then Jeanist finally shows up again at Jakku, and we get this little moment of happy, smirky FUCK YEAH, I KNEW YOU WEREN’T DEAD YOU FUCKING ASSHOLE, and it’s just the best.

why I like it: HE’S SO UNABASHEDLY PROUD GOD BLESS HIM.

why I like it: because he nearly died and then he woke up here in the hospital two days later not knowing where anybody else is or whether they’re even still alive, and this, my friends. this is finally the moment. the moment where he was all FUCK IT, MAYBE WE CAN LET THE NEIGHBORS KNOW WE CARE AFTER ALL. character fucking development. you love to see it.

BONUS:

WHAT HAVE I BECOME, MY SWEETEST FRIEND. EVERYONE I KNOW GOES AWAY IN THE END.

happy birthday Katsuki. feel better sweetie. HORIKOSHI YOU BETTER TREAT HIM RIGHT I AM COUNTING ON YOU.

#bakugou katsuki #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha meta #bakugou meta #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha

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coppicefics · 3 years

Photo

Masked Omens: Week One

New chapter here, or read from the start here!

(Right click picture and select ‘View Image’ or ‘Open Image In New Tab’ for hi-res version.)

[Image Description: Image 1 - A simple rendition of the Masked Singer UK logo, a golden mask with colourful fragments flying off of it. The mask has a golden halo and a golden devil tail protruding from either side. Below, gold text reads 'Masked Omens'.

Image 2 - A newspaper page from the Capital Herald, dated Saturday, 26th December, 2020. Full image description and transcription below the cut.]

The Capital Herald, Saturday 26th December 2020 News, page 11

GODLEIGH MANOR RESTORATION SET TO BEGIN YouTube Community Comes To The Rescue Of Historic House In Unprecedented Donation Spree Restoration work on Godleigh Manor, Little Dyvyn, is set to proceed at last after years of stagnation – thanks to an unexpected influx of donations from interested members of the public. A house has stood on the site since at least the early 13th century, but most of the current building was constructed in the 18th century by its then owner, Lord Michael Godleigh. It remained a private residence until 1914, when it was commandeered as a military hospital for officers injured in the First World War. When the war was over, the officers went home, but the Godleigh family had suffered severe losses, and those who had been involved in treating the injured officers had many bad memories associated with the place. What was left of the family moved out, and – barring the operation of a second temporary hospital during the Second World War – this once-busy house has remained empty and silent ever since. Left to its own devices, the house began to crumble. Water found its way through the roof, and weeds forced their way up through the floor. By the time the deed to Godleigh Manor was passed on to its current owner, Lucy Godleigh, in the mid-1990s, barely a few rooms were anything close to habitable. “I set up in a mobile home on the grounds,” Godleigh told The Capital Herald, “and basically just started trying to secure the few rooms that hadn't been completely exposed to the elements. Then I contacted a restoration expert to find out what could be done for the rest of it.” The experts' verdict wasn't what she wanted to hear. “There was no chance I could pay for it myself. The rest of the family opposed me moving back here; I was on my own. And to get the whole place back to the way it was, we were looking at anything from fifty million to three hundred million pounds. I was going to need help raising the funds, so I started campaigning. But it was slow going. Nobody's keen to put their hands in their pockets to restore a stranger's old family pile.” And, for over two decades, it seemed that a pile would soon be all that was left. Godleigh moved into Little Dyvyn, and the property was abandoned once more to the tender mercies of the elements and the frequent trespassers who came to explore. “I'd go up a few times a week, but it hardly seemed worth it. I'd all but given up. But then one of those visitors saved the day.” A YouTube personality known as Sergeant Shadwell, famed for his urban exploration videos and the occasional paranormal investigation, contacted Godleigh to ask to film in the house. “I said yeah, whatever, do what you like, it's a mess,” Godleigh recalled, “and he saved it. He saved my home.” Shadwell uploaded a video of Godleigh Manor in the last week of November. In it, he speaks frankly about the challenges and benefits of preserving such old buildings. “I don't know about there being ghosts here,�� he tells viewers, “but there's a lot of wasted potential. Stately homes like this can and should be used, and it'd be a real shame for this one to crumble. I'll add a link to the fundraiser in the video description.” The Wytchfynder Army, as Shadwell's fans call themselves, have so far contributed £80m to the Save Godleigh Manor campaign. The fundraising page is filled with messages of encouragement and support, attached to donations ranging from £5 to £1500. Some donors have even explained that they raised the money through sponsored swims, bake sales, and car washes. “It's enough to get started, to make a really good start,” Godleigh explained, “I can't thank him – all of them – enough. They really came together to help me – a complete stranger – and it means so much, it really does.” So what's next for Godleigh Manor? First, says Godleigh, the surviving rooms will need to be stablised. Then the house's ground floor will be restored to its former glory, and Godleigh hopes to work with local historians to ensure that it is both a functional and educational space. “I won't charge people any more to use it than I need to cover the cost of maintaining it,” Godleigh said. “How can I? It's being restored by this huge community; it belongs to the community, and to Little Dyvyn. It's going to be a great space for everyone to enjoy.” Work is now set to begin on the Godleigh Manor restoration project as early as April this year, depending on local planning committee approval of plans first drawn up in 1998. MARY HODGES. To find out more, or to contribute to the renovation costs, visit www.savegodleighmanor.org.uk.

[Image Description: A sepia photograph of a large, grand house. Inset, a colour photograph of a hole in a wall, through which weeds can be seen growing. End ID.] [Caption] NEGLECTED: Godleigh Manor, pictured above in 1980, was once the heart of a thriving community. Inset, weeds grow in what used to be a service corridor to the rear of the main building. (Photo: Annie Spratt on Unsplash. Inset: E. Diop on Unsplash.)

THE NEWS IN NUMBERS 800 years of a house on the site 300 years in its current form 23 generations in the same family 29 bedrooms 40 acres of land £50m lowest estimated renovation costs £300m highest estimated renovation costs 198k subscribers to Wytchfynder 291 Wytchfynder videos 10 years Sgt Shadwell served in the Army £80m raised by the Wytchfynder Army £91m renovation funds raised so far 15 years estimated to complete renovation

[Image Description: a rectangular ad with a picture of Dr. Raven Sable. His name is signed beneath his photograph. Text reads: Don't settle for a balanced diet when you can have a SABLE DIET. End ID.]

Corner Cuppa with Esther James

[ID: Photo of a young woman's face. She has black hair cut into a bob, and slightly gothic makeup. End ID.]

Why do we know you? I'm the captain of the Red Roses, which is the England Women's Rugby Team. What are you passionate about? Rugby! Also, my girlfriend Jane (Adams, also on the squad), and my charitable causes, of course. I support the NSPCC and the Albert Kennedy Trust, in particular - both fantastic charities helping young people who've been let down, in many cases, by the people they should most be able to rely on. I'm really glad to be involved with them. What's your favourite holiday of the year? Pride! I love getting dressed up and going to the parades – most of the time Jane and I get to march, these days, which is great. Last year we even got to ride on a float at one of them, which was really surreal – we got to cover ourselves in rainbow feather boas and just have a laugh waving at people. What a great time! What's been your proudest moment? So far, it's a tie between coming out as bi in a press conference – which was really scary at the time but which led to such good things and such good conversations – and being made captain of the Red Roses. It's an honour just to be selected for the national side, but to be chosen to lead from such a talented group of women is even better. I was walking on air for a week! If you could do anything in the world once, what would it be? Only once? I'd hate to do something and enjoy it and never get to do it again. But, OK, hypotherically... Something completely different and mad, like getting up on a stage and performing a song like I really mean it, or bungee-jumping. What scares you? Bungee-jumping! Which is exactly why I'd like to do it. I think it's good to get out of your own head and your own comfort zone and just do something that scares you, if you can. What's your ideal day? Taking a day off of training and just lying on the sofa watching films with Jane for the whole day. We love what we do, but we don't get a lot of downtime to just relax and snuggle. But then, when we do get a day off, it's usually at the same time, so that's lovely; we're always together and it hasn't started getting on our nerves yet! If you could go anywhere in the world right now, with no complications or restrictions, where would you go? I've always wanted to go to the Eiffel Tower, but somehow whenever I end up in France I don't find the time. Jane's never been to Disneyland, so I think we'd have to combine the two if we got a no-holds-barred trip somewhere. And, obviously, I wouldn't exactly hate getting to meet Mickey again! What's the best advice you've ever been given? My gran was as tough as old boots, and proud of it. She once sat me down, when I was quite young, and she said, “Essie,” which is what she called me, “Essie, you'll do all right in life if you remember this simple rule. Make sure you keep your nose clean, but don't be afraid to get your boots dirty.” I'm not sure she meant me to take it quite so literally! But I think what she meant was, don't get into trouble unnecessarily, but don't be so scared of getting it wrong that you can't do anything right. That's stuck with me, I've held onto it all these years, and I think it's a good motto to live by. What's one thing you wish someone had told you when you were younger? I wish they'd told me it was OK that I fancied girls, that things were getting better. I think we've still got a long way to go, as a community, but I never could have dreamed that a bisexual woman could captain England when I was a little girl. Let alone that it would be me! Finally, what's one thing you'd like to tell younger people now? Be true to yourself, be true to your friends, and be kind. I think the world will turn out fine if we all just try to be kind to one another, above all. Next week's cuppa: Ligur Mortice, head of the Ligur fashion house.

[End of page.]

#masked omens #very much fake news #mo week one #fanart

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

So Many Things

Category: General Fluff

Fandom: Atlantis- The Lost Empire

Characters: Kida

Kida’s toes kissed the mirror-smooth surface of the pond, causing little ripples to appear in the otherwise flat sheet of water with every tiny movement of her body. The dampness of the algae-coated rock seeped into the thick fabric of her clothes, keeping her body pleasantly cool as the humidity of the dense jungle trapped the volcanic heat in the artificial atmosphere. Her fingers hugged the stone edge of the cleft overlooking the idyllic cove nestled within the network of broad-leaved ferns and twisting green trees hugging the circumference of the lost city. Kida breathed in the fresh air, then sighed deeply. Blue eyes sad, she turned her face upward towards the vast stone dome that separated their city from the outside world.

[Matim,] she mourned quietly. So many thousands of years it had been, and yet, Kida missed her mother just as much as the day she had been swallowed by the light. Kida’s father had never explained what had occurred, at least no further than the ancestors had chosen her mother to protect their people from the great cataclysm. Kida supposed that she ought to consider it an owner on her mother’s part, to be fused with the spirit energy of her ancestors to see Atlantis through the greatest catastrophe of their lifetimes. Yet, the bitter child locked away inside the princess could not help but feel that she was robbed.

Kida exhaled again, hand curling over her heart. She always wondered if her mother could see her. Would she be proud of her? Kida dearly hoped so. She had strived endlessly to serve her people and bear the burden of royalty both proudly and properly. Yet, Kida knew in her heart that she was still painfully naïve and ignorant of many things.

Kida clicked her tongue against her front teeth as her eyes bored into the distant stone ceiling. So long it had been since they had seen the world above, so many thousands upon thousands of years. Kida wondered what had become of the planet. Did the great flood obliterate the entire world, transforming it into an endless ocean? Were the Atlanteans, secluded deep beneath the ocean bedrock, the only living creatures sequestered to land? Or had the human race evolved into something unrecognizable and strange? Kida wondered this, among many things pertaining to the world above the stone, quite often. Her young, spirited heart, despite how much she loved Atlantis and her people, craved the unknown. That was why Kida pushed the borders of patrols to their absolute limits, creeping forward day by day despite the hesitations of the other members of the guard. One day, Kida hoped, some strange miracle would be discovered on those ventures, something foreign and exciting and new.

[Is that selfish?] she asked aloud, though she knew her long-lost mother couldn’t answer. The Atlantean words dripped sorrowfully from her tongue in place of the mournful tears she could no longer shed. [I know that your sacrifice saved us from extinction, but…] She chewed on the inside of her cheek as she contemplated aloud. [I cannot help but admit this endless existence bores me.] Was that normal, to find complacency stifling? For her spirit to wither on the repetitive ins and outs of immortal life thriving away from the rest of the earth? In her heart, she felt that it was not so, but she still couldn’t help but feel guilty for entertaining such thoughts. Her father would surely remind her that their people are alive and thriving because of the secrecy, and searching for adventure or outsiders could only invite ruin.

And yet… Kida gazed longingly at the mist wafting through the stalactites clinging to the cavern roof, pretending that they were instead the white, fluffy clouds she vaguely remembered meandering across the clear blue sky. She had always wondered if they were like mist, incorporeal with water droplets bursting against her skin as she waded through it, or actually of solid form, soft and yielding. She’d never know now. With a small groan, Kida pushed her cheek into her hand. She’d gone and depressed herself. She tore her eyes away from the stone heavens to focus instead on the pond, trying to cheer herself up by observing a frog on a lily pad. It licked its glassy black-and-yellow eye, croaked, and leaped into the water to vanish from sight. Kida tutted, thinking it only par for the course for how the day was progressing.

The gentle rustling of ferns captured Kida’s attention. She turned to see a few of the other Atlantean guards pressing through the jungle, holding their elongated, wood-carved, grass-frond-covered masks at their sides.

[Princess,] one of them addressed her with a polite dip of his head. He gestured with his spear into the tangles of ferns and vines and bushes. [We are going to patrol the perimeter. Would you like to join us?] Kida nodded in affirmation and stood, retrieving her own spear and throwing her mask over her face. She tromped past them to lead the patrol party into the denseness of the jungle, trekking confidently over thin, well-worn intertwined paths to the edge of the city. With every step she took, the distant cascading of several waterfalls grew in volume, until it filled the air with a consistent, steady gushing. They strode along one of the many rivers carving through the jungle to the edge of their world, where the water would spill over the precipice to cascade down into the dizzying chasm to disappear into the thick sheet of water vapor.

Kida’s sure feet expertly navigated over the protruding tree roots, checking the edge of the void for any signs of concerning erosion. The watery atmosphere slowly ate away at the rock, chipping it away in small places. In several instances, large chunks of the landscape had just caved in, sliding into the abyss to leave a gaping hole, like a giant had taken a bite out of the platformed city. The Atlanteans had reinforced the edges of the chasm with concrete, but even that was only temporary; as time pressed on, the water wormed its way into the pores to spread cracks and fissures across the light gray stone constructs.

Thankfully, Kida didn’t note any alarming progression of the erosion. They tracked a swift, purposeful path to what used to be the entrance of their city, which was now a collection of large stony steppes budded with large ferns and a few small shrubby trees. Kida froze when a strange noise greeted her ears, and she quickly raised a hand to order the small scouting party to stop. Kida narrowed her eyes behind the mask when she recognized the sounds as distinctly human.

[But how can that be?] She wondered aloud, crawly forward on all fours to lower a broad purple leaf. Several yards away, a medium-sized group of very distinct people were talking animatedly about something. Kida found herself drawn to the skinny, gangly young man with orange-brown hair and spectacles framing his eyes. Kida cocked her head to the side slightly as she regarded him, strangely fascinated by him.

Kida jumped slightly as her fellow Atlanteans crouched down beside her and whispered feverishly, asking her what she intended to do. As fascinating as the newcomers- the answers to her prayers, really- were, she had to apprehend them before they could get into too much trouble in this new and strange land. Kida instructed the group as to how to proceed, and then, in a flash, they had the strangers surrounded.

[Who are you strangers and where did you come from?] she demanded while brandishing her spear, pouring more malice into her tone than she felt.

Someone shoved the skinny boy forward. He fumbled with a small, leather-bound journal and stammered a few incoherent words. Kida cocked her head slightly, watching as he struggled to regain his composure before clearing his throat. Kida’s eyes blew wide behind the carved wood as he timidly uttered a few broken phrases in Atlantean.

[Who... are you strangers and where... do you come from?]

[He speaks our language?] She wondered incredulously, eyes widening behind the mask. How would a surface-dweller have any knowledge of their ancient, lost culture? The man jerked and flipped open the book to hastily flip through the pages, stumbling over his words. Kida slowly lowered her spear, growing increasingly intrigued. A few enunciations and pronunciations were off, but she could largely understand what he was saying. Making a hasty decision, she removed her mask, watching as the man’s eyes widened and a blush blossomed on his cheeks.

[Your manner of speech is strange to me,] she told him with a curious look. The man grabbed his forehead as he struggled to retrieve the proper words, hand whirling in unconscious gestures as he forced out, [I… travel… friend!] Kida repeated his words softly, a bit confused as she struggled to understand him. Inhaling deeply, he suddenly crossed his arms and flashed her a smile. He suddenly switched to a strange dialect, yet one Kida could understand perfectly.

[So, my friend, I am a traveler!] He clarified with raised eyebrows.

[You speak the language of the Romans!] she realized with an almost accusatory look, fascinated by the sudden switch. Grinning now that he was finally getting somewhere, he keened while leaning forward, “Parlez-vous français?” Kida smiled amusedly and agreed with an impressed, “Oui, monsieur!” The others standing behind the linguist watched with various degrees of shock and confusion as the two communicated. Finally, the man exhaled satisfactorily.

“We’re friendly travelers,” he explained with a hand splayed graciously over his small chest. “We’ve come from the surface world.” Behind her, her guards exchanged galvanized but concerned whispers. Kida ignored them, enthralled at the golden opportunity she’d literally stumbled upon. I can finally learn everything about the surface world! She thought, automatically switching to English as the group began introducing themselves. By matter of protocol, Kida would have to deliver them to her father, the King; she would take all the time she had to squeeze as much information as she could out of them.

“Come with me,” she addressed them with a smile. “I will take you to my home. Please, follow us,” she said, gesturing into the brush with her spear. The others led the way, while Kida fell in step with them at a small distance, absorbing the peculiarities of their persons with bright, glimmering blue eyes.

Matim, she thought with a quick glance up at the dome. There are so many things I have yet to learn, but… I think after today, I shall be a little less ignorant, no?

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

Tag List: @deliathedork

#kida #atlantis #atlantis the lost empire #atlantis: the lost empire

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aurltas · 5 years

Text

here, then, begins the mending

tags: Jasmine/Lief (Deltora Quest), lots of good ol communication and reassurance hahaha, Love Confessions, Hurt/Comfort, but trust me less hurt more comfort !!, ugh i love them THE OG OTP!!!!, Fluff

summary: Perhaps some things are better done than said; others, in turn, are better said than done. Together, they learn to speak through both.

IT’S HERE!! the fic i spent 2 years working on!! ..............and then it only turned out to be around 5k l m a o

in other words, jaslief FINALLY talks it out! aka the jaslief confession i’ve been dying for my entire life, enjoy my screaming! AKA aka several thousand words of Them Being R e a l Awkward because you BET they gonna drag this thing on as long as possible..... buckle up! it’s essentially a 5k mini slow burn bc They Communicate!! A Lot!! Albeit Very Awkwardly!! you’re all so welcome

(also available here on ao3 if that butters ur eggroll more)

The gardens are a temporary escape from the stifling regalities of the palace, and that is precisely what makes Lief worry.

He did keep his promise: so many wings and spires of the Del palace had been left in horrific neglect over the years of the Shadow Lord’s tyranny, and now they are reborn from the soil as a dazzling array of flora and fauna. It is a breath of the neighboring woods into the city, a long-overdue nod towards the Forests that stand so silent in their shared territory. If he is to be honest, Lief himself is quite proud of it.

But —

Jasmine should be here, he thinks anxiously as he gently pushes the garden gate open. She would.

Carefully, Lief shuts the gate behind himself before turning to the dew-green garden: itself huge, yet tiny. A vast beginning, plants only starting to push their way up towards the skies; an orderly chaos of buds and shoots. Truly the spirit of the newly revived land.

The one exception is the tiny neat grove of gnarled underground-grown trees. Gifts from the Raladin, these twisted lovely things are Lief’s personal favorites — testaments to the darkness they have all endured, yet striving for the sunlight still, and thriving in spite of it all. A mirror in more ways than one. The grove suggests escape more than any other area in the garden, tucked away at the farthest edge from the palace with breathtaking views of the Del and the Forests alike. And the trees themselves — Lief found it so easy to stroll beneath their writhing, steady branches whenever he needed an escape from the mundanities of rulership, because they understood him, wordlessly and without question, in a way no human could.

Well, save for...

Lief pauses beneath the grove’s edge and looks up, squinting against the brightness of the late afternoon sun.

“Jasmine?” he calls out.

“I am here,” comes her faint answer, from somewhere above. As he had expected. Leaves rustle from that same direction, as though to emphasize her words; it is more than likely that Filli, or Kree, or both, are among the leaves as well.

Lief smiles despite himself.

He cranes his neck, straining to catch a glimpse of a shadow perched among the greenery. The moment he does, Lief walks over to the chosen tree and presses his palm to the roiling bark, smiling again at the memories it brings: the steadiness of his companions beside him, the openness of the roads and skies. A chapter in the past, painted for once in shades of green-dappled gold.

Lief reaches up with that hand and begins scaling the tree slowly.

“So hindered by a common tree, King Lief?” Jasmine laughs, closer now. He finally reaches her perch and grins wryly in reply, settling himself between her spot on the branch and the trunk, relishing the free swing of his legs. “I merely value my life, O most revered master of tree-climbing,” he says, grinning, drawing his cloak closer against a wind previously unfelt from the ground. The sky seems to glow from here, he notices distantly. “Are you to tell me that I should throw my hard-earned breath away? After all those long, perilous journeys — through dangers so much worse than those offered by a mere garden tree?”

Jasmine laughs again and hits his arm, not lightly. “No, what I am telling you, O most revered king of our land, is that even after all my remarkably thorough instruction in the art of tree climbing you are still about as skilled as the Wennbar at it!”

Though he laughs just as heartily as Jasmine does at this, the quip makes him remember: that the Forests are Jasmine’s home first and foremost, have been and always will be.

(And the palace decidedly is not.)

The smile slips from his face, and he also remembers: there was a reason he had come, and sought out Jasmine.

And again I am hoping against hope, Lief thinks wearily. As ever.

“Lief?” Jasmine asks, caution treading her voice. He meets her eyes, and instantly his heart aches to see the unmasked concern there. “Is there something on your mind?”

How well we see through each other, he thinks, half bitterness, half warmth. How well we understand one another.

“There is,” Lief says quietly. He looks back towards the palace towers. “And it is something... that I must speak to you about, and you alone.”

Jasmine is watching him closely, and the weight of her anxious scrutiny is enough to make him want to escape the gardens and retreat into the tower he is so fixated upon. He tries to breathe, to calm his traitor heart.

She waits. Then, “Well?”

“I wanted to ask you about the Forests. And this garden, and the palace,” Lief says in a rush, desperately avoiding her gaze. “Is this— Is this enough? Is life in the palace enough for you, Jasmine? Tell me the truth. Please.”

He almost says, Is life in this prison, somehow enough? If it is with me?

“Enough?” she repeats, bewildered. “‘Enough,’ Lief? What do you mean by that?”

“Compared to the Forests,” he says faintly, and for the first time fear enters his voice in a clamoring haze. “Is this, being in the palace and the garden and surrounded by the trivialities of royal affairs... Is this place, Del— Does this life give you enough freedom? As the Forests clearly do?”

Jasmine stares at him, wide-eyed. Lief stares back, and silence seeps into the space between them as fear’s claws strangle at his throat.

“Lief,” Jasmine sighs at last, closing her eyes briefly, “Lief. You think too much, I think.”

“That is not an answer, Jasmine,” he whispers.

“It is not,” she agrees. “It is not, but it should tell you what you need to hear.”

Lief tears his eyes away from the towers — those prisons that could, could one day be prisons no longer — and meets Jasmine’s gaze.

“And what is it that you think I need to hear?”

(He does not dare breathe: he fears it might make him miss her answer.)

“That I will stay,” Jasmine replies, a rueful smile flickering across her face. “That I will not leave the Forests and leave you here — here, alone. ...That is what you were thinking, am I right?”

At Jasmine’s amused expression, Lief smiles bashfully and inclines his head in her direction. “You are. But...” He falls silent, eyes straying towards the palace turrets once more.

Jasmine senses his hesitation and sighs, but not impatiently. “But what, Lief?”

“But you never told me why.”

At this she smiles again, broader this time, and looks from Lief to the palace at which he gazes. “Is it wrong— No, is it intrusive of me to ask?” Lief says cautiously, the frost of the question treading through his very heartbeat.

He hears Jasmine breathe in. Then:

“By all rights, yes.”

Lief’s breath shudders to a halt.

“But.”

He remembers to breathe: he does.

“But. I also think... we need to overcome this fear too.”

Lief blinks, risking a glance at Jasmine’s face; its forced blankness holds no answers. “Fear?”

“I think we have circled around this question far too long,” she says. She does not move when Lief turns his head away completely from the palace to face her.

“Question?” he repeats numbly.

“This is exactly what I mean,” Jasmine says, smiling again. “No wonder Doom laughs at me so often.”

“Jasmine,” Lief pleads, mentally setting aside a few questions for the Resistance leader. “Tell me, what question have we circled around?”

At this Jasmine’s expression falls once more, and finally she faces him. “One thing first,” she says.

“What can it possibly be?” Lief asks, exasperated.

“Swear you will not tell anyone what I say next,” Jasmine says. “Not Barda, not Sharn, no one.”

Lief stares at her, lost for words. “Why would I...?”

“Marilen has been driving me mad with this, and she insisted,” Jasmine mutters instead, a complete non-answer. She looks down briefly, taking a breath before meeting Lief’s eyes once more. “And I thought it would be an — interesting endeavor, but quite frankly —”

“Jasmine, please!”

“Very well very well, you seem to be asking for it anyway,” Jasmine snaps good-humoredly, but her voice wavers.

“Lief.” She glances away, back. Away, again; feigning indifference as ever. But —

“...What exactly are we?”

For a moment Lief thinks the words are conjured by the wind that rises suddenly, carried from some other, unrelated conversation to the madness of theirs. For a moment he stills and mulls over the words, his mind a storm. For a moment he wonders what answer Jasmine wants to hear, and what answer he wants to give.

(And for a moment he trembles at the answer he longs to be true.)

“Is this what Marilen torments you with?” he finally says, faintly. Jasmine gives him a pointed look, but color rises to her face. “Either way,” she says stubbornly, “it is the answer to the question you keep asking me. Why I want to stay.”

Lief stares blankly at her, the words completely flying over his head. “You are saying — you want to stay because... because of what ‘we’ are? But — we are...”

And there he cuts himself off, because he does not know.

“Lief,” Jasmine repeats. She reaches out and grasps his wrist firmly. “You of all people should know that I am... not exactly well versed in the mess of — well, feelings, and... and understanding that of others, and between people, and. Well.” She breathes in, the air shuddering through her in a different breed of cold.

(He is overwhelmed, suddenly, by the urge to throw his cloak over the two of them and press close to banish these wintry demons in her heart in a way that would leave no room for doubt, all his own fear be damned; but he resists, he resists, because Lief of Del is a coward.)

“I have my reasons for wanting to remain, and I know this. But I want to know why you even want me to stay, when I am — when I am nothing but a lost wild girl who is closer to the trees and the birds more than other humans, and has no place at all in a palace of royalty and nobility and I... want to know if the reason you want me to stay is the same reason I want to stay, and if I do somehow — if I will even be worth the space I take and the air I breathe staying here, where I do not belong and where I am worth little more than nothing!”

Something cracks and splinters inside Lief: everything shattering, and scattering, and ready to be blown away at a moment’s gale. Something is broken; something is utterly, utterly wrong.

(Something is in desperate need of mending.)

Her words, like the weighty pestilence that they are, seem to hang hazily in the air. But now that they have been delivered from her body, Jasmine is left limp and shivering in the rising evening wind. Her head hangs now, facing the roots of the twisted garden tree, and something about the way her eyes are lowered is all so terribly wrong to Lief.

Belatedly, she loosens her grip on his wrist and starts to withdraw her hand. Lief catches it; she looks up, and her eyes, her eyes — Lief’s heart cries out at the wrongness of it all.

“Jasmine,” he breathes, and at her name she closes her eyes and lets out a choked breath that sounds closer to a muffled sob. He pulls the hand he holds closer to him, wrapping it with both his own. “Jasmine, Jasmine, Jasmine, please — look at me, please, listen to me,” Lief whispers. He watches, anxious and intent, as her eyes open and turn upwards to the darkening skies, rapidly blinking away what Lief knows are tears (and how it pains him to see her drowning so) before shakily meeting his gaze.

(Here, then, begins the mending.)

Lief glances down at their hands and gives in.

Cautiously, he drags himself closer to Jasmine and releases her hand to undo his cloak, adjusting it so that it wraps around both of them. Lief sighs, deeply, a slow and steeling thing: then he takes up her hand again and squeezes it softly, his eyes caught on the press of his own fingers against hers.

(And he hesitates. How to mend something he’d been so sure would never crack?)

Carefully, he looks up to meet Jasmine’s wavering gaze.

“Jasmine,” he says quietly, “Are you sure you are in your right mind?”

That old incredulous expression of outrage Lief is so familiar with flares up again, as scathing and dismissive as always — and he smiles. This is Jasmine.

“Excuse me?” she demands.

“You seem to have forgotten,” Lief adds, “that I... told you, not too long ago, when we were in the Shadowlands, that — that I, too, will marry for love. And that I think my queen is a worthy one for Deltora, as well.”

Jasmine stares at him, wordless. Lief forces his gaze away from the way pink has spread over her cheeks, a mirror to her lips, now slightly parted; he breathes in, willing the chill of the air to fill him with determination to finally overcome this shaking fear that so shackles his heart.

“And so I... well, I asked you. If you were willing. And you seemed to say yes, and so — that is why I want you to stay, Jasmine. At my side. Because you, well...”

(The sun is approaching the horizon, and the palace burns gold.)

Lief realizes he is clutching Jasmine’s hand, tight, and he loosens his grip hastily; but to his immense relief, and even greater surprise, Jasmine mimics his earlier action and squeezes his hand.

Lief looks back at her, his turn to be rendered wordless. At his stunned expression, the corner of Jasmine’s mouth lifts ever so slightly — a tiny small thing, but she is smiling.

(His chest aches. He wonders, half-distantly, how warm, how soft it would feel it against his own —)

He cuts that thought short. No; now is for Jasmine.

“Jasmine. You are... worth so much more than what you said, earlier,” he starts quietly. “There is no one in this entire land that I would rather have traveled with, and defeated the Shadow Lord with, and learned the ways of the Forests with, than you. Because we never would have made it beyond the very beginning without you, or lived to this day without you, and, and— Jasmine, it doesn’t matter whether or not you are of royal blood, or — or unfamiliar with the ways of people, because you can always learn, because you are the reason we still stand today, and stand here. It is you, and...”

Lief breathes in, breathes out. The cold of the air, the touch of the diamond against his skin: these he tries to bring to the forefront of his mind, rather than the burning he feels on his face and the familiar callouses he can feel on Jasmine’s fingers and the overwhelming urge he has to press them to his mouth. He fears, and fears, and hopes.

Jasmine watches, fixed, silent.

Waiting.

“You are... irreplaceable, Jasmine. To Deltora, and — and to my heart. And so that was why I asked you to stay, and, ah, as for what we are, well...” Lief smiles slightly, bright and careful, the heat in his cheeks heightening impossibly further. “I hope that we are — more than mere companions who went on a quest and survived, and more than friends who seek each other’s company day after day. And so... I think —”

Jasmine starts laughing.

Lief can only stare as she almost tips into him, watches in embarrassed horror as she doubles over, the hand still held in his loosening for the moment. It is only thanks to years of experience that she remains on the branch, and not below it.

“Lief,” she finally wheezes, “look at you! No, no no no, look at us. No wonder we are the joke of all the palace servants, and Marilen never stops her pestering, and Ranesh gives me those looks, and — and Doom my own father for Adin’s sake keeps asking if we are still sane, ahhh —” She finally controls her laughter enough to sit up and inhale deeply, an attempt to return to normal breathing.

Half bemused, half relieved, Lief readjusts the cloak for the sake of having something to do. He does not know if he can trust himself to speak words that make sense.

Eventually, Jasmine calms herself and sighs, long and deep. She looks Lief in the eyes, and the mirth lingering there paints the green a gentler cousin of their usual fiery sharpness. “Lief, you words are— I mean, what you said then...”

And here she bites her lip, struggling, worrying over her words: fearing, as ever, that she would say the wrong thing, or sound as such. Lief sees, and the wrongness pummels him again. He tightens his hold on her hand, wills her to summon that strength he knows she holds — to mend herself, to accept his lended strength.

Jasmine breathes in; accepts. And she smiles.

It softens Lief’s eyes.

“Your words — they mean a great deal to me,” she murmurs at last. “But Lief, it is me you are speaking to. Me. I have —” She shakes her head, her voice gaining strength. “I have seen you in every form you may take, for better or for worse. Do you think I will mock you or, or insult you or hurt you for something you want to say from your heart?”

Her smile widens before she schools it into solemn fondness and says:

“Tell me what you keep dancing around, Lief!”

Lief stares at her in astonishment, and amazement and wonder, marveling at the miracle of this incredible soul he so admires, and treasures, and —

She deserves to know.

“I ask you to stay,” Lief says delicately, firmly, his heart trembling at the possibility of it all, hoping, hoping, “I ask you to stay, because I am terrified of losing you. And that is because — because —” he breathes in: cold, steeling — “because I love you.”

He glances away — hoping, fearing, hoping — and glances back.

(He remembers to breathe.)

Jasmine is watching him carefully, through eyes wide and shining with something as namelessly bright as the surging wild joy that flares to Lief’s chest. Slowly a smile creeps across her face and helplessly he mirrors it, laughing, soft and embarrassed. Dimly he realizes he is clutching her fingers more tightly than ever; abashedly he loosens it, and it startles a choked laugh out of him when Jasmine’s immediate response is to pull it back to her and tug, using the leverage to press close. She laughs too, briefly dipping her face into his shoulder to hide her face before lifting it again to watch him.

(He hopes, he hopes —)

“I am afraid,” Jasmine murmurs, still smiling, “that I am not as... good, or — articulate, with words than — than with, well...” Her voice trails off and she lifts a shoulder in a halfhearted shrug, a trace of that old mock carelessness that, to Lief, speaks volumes more to her own nervousness than anything else.

But the smile stays on her face. “I take it you trust me?”

“With my life,” Lief replies instantly, and grins like a fool when she rolls her eyes despite the flush that rises in her cheeks.

Carefully she lifts their joined hands to rest by her sternum, over her heart; that smile still lingers on her features, now hesitant, and her eyes cast downwards to their hands. At the sight an ache begins in Lief’s chest, deep and whirling, seeping through his limbs like rain. He watches, and feels, and aches, and is silent. He feels content to watch the world turn. He feels as though this is as close to bliss as he will ever get.

He feels the tripping pulse of Jasmine’s heart through his palm, the rise and fall of her uneven breaths, the hesitant softness in her eyes as soon as they lift to meet his.

Jasmine’s eyes flit down to their hands and back up to him. Wordlessly she leans their foreheads together, and Lief watches in his own trembling silence as her eyes flutter shut and her breaths mingle with his. He follows her and closes his eyes too, just breathing, feeling and feeling and feeling, her heartbeat still galloping beneath his hand, a rhythm to match his own.

(Lief hopes: this is on the path to mending the broken.)

“I will — stay,” Jasmine whispers haltingly, and Lief can feel her shaking everywhere. “And your words. What you said earlier. I just... I never thought I would be. Enough. For anything, for the kingdom, for — well.” She huffs, disbelieving still, after all this time. “For you.”

“I will say it,” Lief replies quietly, “as many times as you need to hear it, to believe it.” Lief opens his eyes and lifts his other hand up to tuck that wild hair back behind her ear against the wind, searches her face. She is too close; he can make nothing out, so he says, “Tell me again? ...Will you stay?”

Jasmine lets out a tiny understated laugh, leans closer. He can feel the petal touch of her exhales against his mouth; there is nothing in the world but the two of them. “I will stay, Lief. As long as you... For as long as you want.”

Her voice falls so, so warm on Lief’s lips.

“Jasmine,” he says, and it comes out far more strained than he intends, but he doesn’t care to be embarrassed, not now, not with her, not when this is more important than anything. He pulls back a breath to tilt his head ever so slightly, a silent question, hovering. “Jasmine, can I— Is this —” Is this also what you want?

“Wait, Lief,” she says suddenly, and he stops breathing. “Wait. Before we... Let me say something.”

Lief breathes again. He pulls back a bit, and he waits, as she asked; because he would tear down the stars if she so desired, and because there is a breathlessness in her voice that wrenches his attention away from everything else. Her face is so red; he knows he is no better.

Jasmine swallows before she meets his eyes again, and it is all Lief can do to stare back, captivated by the way her fluster worries her mouth. She lets out a breath, a small muted thing, before adding just as quietly: “You said you trust me, so just, this... This is without the words.”

She lifts her chin ever so slightly, carefully presses her lips to his. The gasp slips from his mouth before he can stop it, and immediately Jasmine leans away. Lief opens his eyes (when did they close? — did they? — he is so lost and yet so found) to her nervous startled stare.

She’s shocked, Lief realizes, startled and astonished. She can barely believe I would...

(Another point of mending, but perhaps —)

“Is this— Did I— Do you still want this?” Jasmine asks, eyes still so wide, her breaths as shallow as his.

And Lief hears: Do you still want me?

(— perhaps this is easier done than said.)

“Yes,” he whispers, pressing back in, closer this time, shivering when she sighs his name at the proximity. He lets his eyes fall shut. Blindly, he lifts his hand to thread it into her wild hair, and Jasmine makes a sound of surprise against his lips in response, her hands fumbling to loop around his neck. Lief’s mind stills, settles; everything becomes this, the gentle insistent push and pull, their sharp stuttering inhales, the clumsy careful honesty of their motions.

He pulls away eventually and leans their heads together, desperately trying to catch his breath. When his eyes open, Jasmine is watching him, and her smile blinds.

“Again?” she asks quietly, and Lief’s mouth dries. All he sees is her smile, her bright-eyed joy. “Yes,” he breathes, a repeat of his own words, before he feels Jasmine’s hands skim up from the back of his neck to cradle his jaw as she pulls him impossibly closer, ever a quick learner in this language without words, teaching him too how to speak it more fluently.

When he finally pulls back, Lief distantly registers that the sun has almost completely set. But the realization comes only after he registers Jasmine’s expression; her eyes still closed, her lips parted, the way everything about her is soft-edged and open. Vulnerable. A Jasmine only he has been blessed enough to see.

It robs him of words, so he simply tips his forehead into hers and murmurs, “Jasmine.”

He feels more than hears her questioning hum in response.

“Thank you,” Lief says quietly. “Not for — this, specifically, but for telling me. And for staying. I know you love the Forests, and I will not chain you here, but... Thank you for choosing me.”

She scoffs, but it is kind and endeared. “I thought you would hear this without my saying, but I suppose I should use words for the sake of clarity.” Jasmine turns to tuck her face into the side of his neck, and Lief closes his eyes.

“The Forests will always be there,” she murmurs against his skin. “But you... Well, if I were to leave, then who would be here to keep you from falling off a tree? Or from going mad in your kingly duties? Or even just to reminisce with about the old days of the quest? Barda might be able to achieve two of those, but absolutely not all three, I think.”

Lief opens his eyes to gaze at the darkening sky, something wordless and roaring rising in him. He leans away, looks down to meet Jasmine’s steady gaze; he feels full to overflowing, and it is all he can do to curl his fingers under her chin and bring her mouth to his again. “Jasmine,” he mumbles, his mind a haze. “Jasmine, I —”

“It was never about choosing one or the other,” she whispers, pulling just far away enough for Lief to feel every other word against his lips. “I can have the Forests, and my freedom. And I can have you too. Are we clear?”

Lief’s resounding grin is so wide he almost fears he will somehow hurt Jasmine with his teeth, but then he feels her own smile against him. “Giving me a taste of my own medicine, are we?” he asks, and she laughs when he leans back to watch her eyes flutter open, tugs on her hair gently as he carefully frees his hand to lace their fingers together. “But yes. We are clear.”

It is like this that they stay, quite alone, watching as the sky begins to glow with the promise of another kind of light. And although the sun has taken the warmth of day with it, Lief finds himself content to bask in the summer that is his place next to Jasmine, his cloak around their shoulders.

(It is like this that they stay: the quiet of his rioting heart, the slow slip of dusk to evening; and this: the weight of Jasmine’s body against his, steady and warm and here, with him.)

(Quite alone indeed.)

When the first three stars appear, Lief says quietly, “Shall we leave before the cold becomes too much for my one cloak?”

“So sensible,” Jasmine replies, her smile audible. “Let us do so, then.” And then, to Lief’s silent astonishment, she presses closer briefly before pulling away, without hesitation and so utterly at ease that it stings his eyes. He watches, still astounded, as she peels his cloak from her shoulders and swiftly begins to climb down from their perch.

The wind rises to batter them once more, but Lief hardly feels it — because now, now the world can turn as it pleases: he has finally heard what he had longed to hear, for longer than he knew.

“Lief? Lief!”

He blinks, looks down towards the sound. Jasmine stands below him, arms crossed but a grin on her face, tilted up towards him. “Are you coming down from that tree or not?”

And for the second time that day, Lief finds himself in awe of this incredible wild girl — so doubted and wounded and scorned by the world so determined to break her, but still, still, bearing and baring it all with the courage of her vulnerable pride.

He laughs, loud and bright, clumsily climbing down to her side.

Jasmine grins up at him when he lands at last, and there is a light in her eyes that rivals the stars overhead. “Ah my king, you have made it alive!”

A rush of fondness washes over him, stronger than any wind, and Lief abruptly pulls her close, bundling the edges of his cloak in his fists and wrapping her up in it. It makes her laugh in startled delight as she falls into him, and he revels in the joyful sound of it.

“In all honesty, I am only alive thanks to my wonderful teacher,” Lief murmurs into her hair. She wraps her arms around his waist, makes a soft inquisitive noise that reminds him of the Forest birds. He can feel her fluttering heartbeat against his chest, knows his own is also a bird of the same rhythm, and something in him warms. “She taught me well.”

“And who exactly is this esteemed teacher you regard so highly? A princess, perhaps, or a noble lady?” Jasmine asks, playful despite the careful hesitance in her voice.

Lief pulls back slightly, dropping the edges of his cloak from his hands to hold her by her forearms, looks into her eyes. They roam, searching his face.

He laughs, quiet and small, but for some inexplicable reason he also wants to cry.

“Oh, but have you not heard?” Lief says. “She is far from any princess or lady; she is Deltora’s queen, more than worthy of her crown. And she is, more importantly —” he breathes in, no longer needing hope — “my love.”

A slow smile, bright and open and real, spreads across Jasmine’s face before she buries it in his shoulder. “Lief,” she mumbles, “when I said I want to stay... I also meant to say. That — that I. I love you too.”

He closes his eyes, presses his own smile to her temple. “I know,” he says. She hums quietly, a question. How? Lief laughs quietly and wraps his arms around her.

“You already told me. Without words.”

(And now there are two on the path to mending, instead of one.)

bonus coda:

leaf: “wait. Wait. then... who did you think i was referring to when i said i would marry for love back then after the shadowlands?” jas: “idk i’m just too used to you just saying stupid Grand shit all the time ok lil king, don’t blame this on me”

marilen and doom, straight up faceplanting: “oh for the love of aDIN”

how much does jas r e a l l y understand about Feelings(TM) and Certain Specific Gestures? idk man that’s a whole other fic, i can’t possibly add the lief-explaining-relationships-to-jasmine brand of jaslief in here it’s already too full of all the other tropes i wanna read HAHAHA

MORE FUN NOTES!

this monster started as a casual take on the “jaslief clears the air between them” and became a 5k+ Absolute Unit

like. i wrote the first draft of this on my phone in fuckign 2017 while in china in desperate attempts to mentally escape Pestering Relatives and then promptly forgot it existed for a year and a half and THEN i decided to completely rewrite some parts and add completely new ones...............pffffttttt, i can’t believe i’m still alive

The Biggest Shoutout to the greatest showman ost (especially rewrite the stars! a BOP!) for giving me some gr9 background music / motivation while i stumble around in writing a subject i have -0 experience in ooPS

(“but you’re here in my heart / so who can stop me if I decide you’re my destiny” + “it’s up to you and it’s up to me / no one can say what we get to be”)

also! a Cursed Thing that occurred to me while writing their names as leaf and jas was: leafyboy and jasgirl. like... fireboy and watergirl? ..........no? no one? (i’m so sorry i have no excuse)

this is also essentially me projecting my huge crush on both characters in this ship L M A O

I MEANT TO HAVE THIS DONE BY 5/20 FOR “CONFESSION DAY” BUT WHOOPS

finally, another shoutout to my slow slide into the kpop chasm !! i can’t believe im saying this, BUT: stream mikrokosmos by bts, bc god i looped the hell out of this song while doing the final stages of editing and rewriting

HOPE YALL ENJOYED!! if you wanna scream at me, to me, with me, p l e a s e do it i love yelling and i wanna make friends please please please

#deltora #deltora quest #jaslief #roddaverse #my writing #QUEST FAM PLS ACCEPT MY OFFERING

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burtonjonathan93 · 4 years

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