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godblooded · 10 months

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ik you've been having a hard go at it. i've been 👁👁🔎 your ooc posts. anything i say off the top of my head rn will sound like platitudes, so! i'll cut to the heart of the matter. you're nowhere close to being alone. you have your 🐕 who loves you to bits. i can see it in those big ol eyes any time you share a pic. you have friends. you are dearly loved and cherished. don't let the bad brainwaves blot that out. you WILL get out of the weeds, and we'll all be there waiting. ❤️🐻

ah yes there are the tears afresh. 🫂 get in here bishop. you matter so much to me. i swear to god i live my life feeling sometimes like i’m on an eternal train ride and you’re quietly sitting next to me whenever you message me and i want you to know how nice that feeling is. you’re an amazing person and your words mean so much to me rn. you’re exactly right, honestly. kaykay loves you, too, i hope you know. she told me so.

#ooc. keepsies.#[you and thom are so special to me and you both always will be. YOURE so special to me and you always will be. oh no I’m emotional about how #long I’ve known you. I love you you handsome chess piece.]#ooc. mikkelsen vc: this week on kat valentine's hannibal.

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whcwashe · 7 months

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Have we ever talked about my theory that Liv’s abilities didn’t just turn on one day, Jasper probably had them walled off somehow in the hopes that she’d be totally normal for as long as possible? But it was also contingent on him being alive. And I think Manny probably found a way to pull the walls down even faster just so that Constantine would have to drag himself out of Ravenscar.

Plus, I think Manny was banking on finding a way to manipulate Liv, which is why he was so pissy about John driving her off.

#ooc #also on the low I’m fairly confident that Liv wouldn’t have been as In Awe of Manny as Zed was #lbr she’s not religious #she’d have been like ‘oh an Angel….’#‘wait he’s kind of a dick’#and then Manny either would have driven a stake between John and Liv somehow #or he’d have found a way to off Liv #like once she wasn’t useful anymore #because Manny was MOVING THOSE CHESS PIECES MAN

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soulsbetrayed · 1 year

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//and yes I am also saying with that headcanon post that the Escardos family are exceptionally wealthy, well off to the point they lived in Monaco for a few generations after Mesala’s time. It was stated that they are a mage noble family but it was never established how far it went.

#voice of a mastermind;OOC #an innocent monster;FLAT ESCARDOS #chess pieces' information;ABOUT

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asks-n-trolls · 2 years

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"Missed opportunity to eat the pieces when they weren't looking, Anon...."

#ooc post #jasper can play chess but she thinks its funny to hide he pieces #jasper ic

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blueparisian · 10 months

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come on chat noir, be the outlier and get a black chess piece. you can do it i believe in you.

#dash commentary #quiz is rigged if we're all getting white chess pieces w t F-#ooc

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fatedevour · 1 year

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♢ — @bogachs asked: me, rolling into your askbox to scream at you and shake you: I LOVE YOUR DOTTORE!!! joking aside, your love for this madman is evident in the amount of thoughts you put into both your writing and hcs for him. i adore getting to write and chat with you, be it just screaming about dottolone through 1.3k words discussions, or sending each other angst, or silly stuff, or just pretty arts. i am always happy for you (and lowkey fearful not gonna lie, we both are bghtjr) whenever dottore gets new screentime / new lore, or whenever mick confirms your hcs. now we impatiently wait for him to become playable, but in the meantime, i'm delighted to consider you my partner in crime.

hows my portrayal?

I AM HONORED. YOU’RE STUCK WITH ME LIKE PANTALONE’S STUCK WITH DOTTORE. me when i fell in love with dottore. but I do. i love him very much and i try to do him justice while also expanding on him. And i love getting to write and chat with you too! we’re here to put each other through all the rings of feels. the fear when new content shows up is real honestly. I’ll be here cheering for you when you finally get your food as well for your boys ! one day maybe. could you imagine if it was a red herring. but yes. partners in crime ! we’re a 2 for 1 deal.

#bogachs #*SQUISHES YOU* THANK YOU <3 #did i intentionall use an icon with a chess piece? maybe #NO BUT REALLY I APPRECIATE IT #ALL THE LOVE #♢ — ❛ chitchat to pass the time ❜ ( ooc )

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grimmssnarl · 2 years

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@blue-orb: bold of fairytales to assume fairies have the same logics we do. chess seems ubiquitous, tho.

thats what i was thinkin. and isnt setting up all their tricks on ppl just a game of chess in some ways.....

im sure the pokemon world has a boardgame that is completely unique to wartime in the pokemon world thats like chess/shogi but more with that pokemon element too. which im curious in thinkin abt...

#strokes my beard hmm yes.#on one hand grimmsnarl could be like [sees everything laid out before him]#or he could be like [smashes the chess pieces because thats how you actually win a war... you kill ppl]#.OOC.#blue-orb

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luvfy0dor · 2 months

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“There Is No Other Love, It's Only Yours ♡⁠˖” BSD Men x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

╰┈➤ Dazai Osamu, Chuuya Nakahara, Fyodor Dostoevsky, Nikolai Gogol

Warnings; Maybe ooc, barely proofread

Description; how the bsd men say ‘i love you’ without actually saying it (sigma does actually say it but that's besides the point)

A/n; Next fic post will be a request! Sorry they're taking me so long : ( this is a new style of writing for me and it's really short, but I figured I'd give it a shot. It might be a little whack though because I'm real tired rn I took an hour long nap before writing Sigmas

Dazai says ‘i love you’ best through physical touch and small gestures of the sort, specifically touching your hands. As soon as you're within his reach, your hand is in his and his thumb is rubbing over your knuckles affectionately. His lips brush against your knuckles when he gives excuses to Kunikida on why he can't make it today with your sleepy form right next to him on the bed. He'll press kisses to each knuckle while he listens to the blonde tell him the amount of absences and early leaves he's had in the past month and quietly sigh. He doesn't care where he is either, he's shameless it's his affection and will happily grab you by the waist or hand infront of a crowd. He loves to show you off because you're the best thing to happen to him, but if you're shy he'll tone it down to keep you comfortable.

“Ah! There you are. I've been looking for you. Give me your hand so I don't lose track of you again...ah, you got me! I did just want to hold your hand, but what's the harm?”

Chuuya shows his love through acts of service- I know a lot of people probably would assume gift giving, which he does love to do, but he finds himself commiting acts of service more frequently. Every time he notices you seem tired after work, he'll do the chores that you had accidentally forgotten, even if he's tired. He plans dates for the two of you atleast monthly, always picking a restaurant or activity he heard you mention wanting to try. He does find himself spending money when he sees things that remind him of you, but he thinks spending time with you is even better. If he takes your car somewhere, it's always coming home with a refilled gas tank. If you need to lift something heavy, he offers to use his ability to help you. He'll do your laundry whenever he notices it piling up and bring you coffee, tea, or water in the morning when you're still lingering in bed.

“Mornin' sweetheart, I got you a drink. Be careful not to spill it, s'real dark in here and opening the blinds doesn't help any...we got a date tonight, by the way. You said the new restaurant sounded good so I figured we could go tonight if you're up for it.”

Fyodor spends quality time with you. He likes to keep you nearby when he reads or works, although he prefers when you're on the quieter side during those activities. Otherwise, he's happy to talk with you for however long the two of you are content with. Usually you'll have conversations over a game of chess, which he almost always wins while you're attention is divided between talking and playing, but he's a good sport about it. He'll give you pointers on how to do better in the next game. He'll play his cello for you, too. If he finds your hobbies interesting enough he'll take part in them. If you paint he'd be more than happy to join you, chatting with you while your brushes paint images of scenery and figures on the once blank canvas. He prefers what are considered more sophisticated hobbies, but he'd watch a chick flick with you or let you teach him how to play your favorite video game if it really made you happy.

“If you're as determined to win a game as you say you are, you should probably make an attempt to put more focus into the game. I do love hearing your voice, moya lyubov, but thinking about how you're going to move your pieces and talking are counterproductive. We can try it again, or we could do something else, whatever you'd like, Myshka.”

Nikolai shows you his love primarily through flirty words and loving touches. Whenever he walks next to you, his hand is on either your lower back, hip, or in your hand. When sitting with you, he'll fiddle with your fingers and play with them harmlessly, occasionally fighting off the urge to bend them back far enough to break them. In the same heartbeat, hell bring them to his lips and press kisses to every finger tip while telling you a flirty joke. He often lays his legs across your lap or lets you lay yours over his while you play with his hair. Sometimes he'll walk up behind you and whispers a pick up line in your ear with a large grin on his face. He likes seeing your reaction and watching you squirm in embarrassment in his grasp.

“You must be an artist, my dove, because you are so good at drawing me in! Hey- you can't go anywhere just because you thought my joke was cheesy! I can find some wine to go with it if you'd like, hehe.”

Sigma shows his love through the way he trusts you. Obviously with everything he's gone through trusting people became really difficult for him, but you came along and earned that trust when you proved that you were a permanent factor in his life and wouldn't betray him. He trusted you enough to let you into the Aerial Casino and stay with him regularly in his quarters. He let his walls down around you and opened up about his origin story. He would let you get physically close to him and touch him, coming to love the feeling of your lips against his, pressed in a sweet kiss. Though he still kept his independence and a desire to not depend solely on you in fear of betrayal, you could tell that he had come a long way from the man he once was after his experiences in the DOA.

“I felt so foolish after I fell for Fyodors tricks again, but dealing with the distrust and suspicion I held towards everyone else was just as hard as the realization of messing up again...thank you for listening to me, you've helped me so much. I don't think I could ever repay you enough...I love you.”

A/n; AHHHHHHHH I'm so tired but fuck it we ball I gotta write chisme for Spanish and it's going no where I lied to my teacher and told her it was almost done it is not almost done I have barely met any of the requirements for it but I won't do it if I don't post something so

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itsharleystuff · 11 months

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↳ 𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄

Gif not mine!

— 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Joel Miller x afab!fem reader

— 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7k

— 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Ellie finds an old chessboard somewhere in Jackson and asks you to teach her how to play. Joel joins and isn’t too happy about losing three times against you.

— 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 18+ content (minors dni!), age gap (reader is in her mid twenties, Joel is early fifties), sex, p in v, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, use of whore (like once), pet names (darling, sweetheart, angel), multiple orgasms, they do it on the table, cum eating, bit of angst, insecure Joel, canon divergency, probably ooc Joel and Ellie, mentions of death and loss, alcohol consumption, confessing feelings. Let me know if I missed something!

a/n: this one’s a bit rushed but I wanted to post it before my birthday so I apologize if it isn’t great. Anyways, I’m writing a second Javi fic, so if you liked 𝐌Í𝐀 I’m certain you’re going to love the next one:)

no use of y/n

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

"You're cheating." Ellie rambles, standing up to get a better view of the board and analyze it from different angles. You can't help but giggle at her childish attitude, cause it truly brought a certain joy to the dynamic. "Hey! It's not funny."

"How could I cheat? You were watching my game the whole time." You defend you case, raising your hands in a sign of peace but gaining a glare from the girl.

"I don't know, you're the one who's teaching me." In that moment, you hear the crack of the front door opening, but none of you bother to stand and greet the main resident of the house, too busy in your own matters.

"Look, I'm playing fair. I am simply older and more experienced than you." Ellie grimaces and sits back on the chair, both arms crossed over her chest. "But try not to feel too bad. I've always been really good at chess."

Joel enters the dining room and walks right past you, going straight to the kitchen. You guess he's either going for a beer or to pour some whiskey into his favorite glass. Always the same routine every weekend: he would come home late with absolutely no explanations as to where he was, drink something strong and spend some time with both of you before heading to bed.

"You must be a really good strategist, then." She replies, amused. "I’ve heard this game is all about that. Strategies."

When you're about to respond, the man's heavy footsteps get closer as he comes to the room once again and leans back on the wall opposite to you, a glass of whiskey on his hand. His grayish hair is messy and his eyes seem to shine brighter under the warm light hanging over your heads when he looks at you intently. Often, he would appear exhausted after being off all day, but tonight it was different. Something about him was, but you couldn’t quite pinpoint it.

Ellie must've sensed a shift in the air, since she changed her approach in a second. "Joel, you're pretty ancient. I bet you know how to play."

You hold back your laughter at her mocking comment, reaching the board to rearrange the pieces. He cocked an eyebrow in her direction, straightening his posture nonchalantly.

"I'm more of a poker man," he retorts with a distant air, diverting his gaze to Ellie.

"Poker?" You frown as he comes your way, but doesn't take a sit just yet. "I didn't take you for a gambler, Miller."

He sets the glass down on the table, leaning over the chair next to you with a smirk. "M'not. There’s many ways of playing other than betting your money, f’you know what I mean.”

Your eyes widen at his response, taken aback. So he meant like… The one were you end up naked. “Now, I would’ve expected that from Tommy, but you? That’s a surprise.”

He shrugs, faded smile still on his lips.

You remembered what Ellie once told you, ‘he does that whenever you’re around,’ she had said in a meditative tone, ‘smile, I mean. It’s kind of creepy cause… y’know, he never does.’ Perhaps that’s why she acted differently every time you three were together.

“Yeah, whatever.” The girl grumbles. “Can you play chess or not? I need someone to take revenge for me.”

Joel takes a seat beside you, slowly, glancing over the board before sipping from his drink again. He looks back at Ellie, whose eyes were sparkling with excitement. The man sighs in defeat, well aware that he just couldn’t say no to her. A dad reflex, maybe, but it worked out in her favor and she’d take advantage of it as much as she could.

“Fine. I call black.” You nod in agreement and the younger one leans on her elbows for a better view. “Either way, I know you like making the first moves. Ain’t that right, darlin’?”

Your first reaction was almost choking on your own saliva. Honestly, how dare he say something like that in front of Ellie? Did he suddenly forget that she was fourteen and terribly clever? Had he lost his mind? Also, he never called you by anything other than your name whenever she was around, so this whole situation felt like a personal attack.

“You okay over there?” Ellie asked, slightly concerned at your incessant coughing.

“Yeah…” you give him a dirty look and press a hand to your chest, making the first move with a white pawn. “Could you bring me some water? I think my soul might’ve left my body.”

“Sure.” She quickly answers, standing up. Joel doesn’t say anything else, his mind focused only on the game now.

It had all happened last weekend.

Thinking in retrospective, your relationship with him had always been ambiguous. You couldn’t quite recall when he actually started talking to you and not just ‘bear with your presence’, nor when his invitations to come over to his place started coming from him and not Ellie.

At first, it was simply you and her. Bonding was easy, despite her sharp character. She looked up to you, for whatever reason that might be, and that smoothed things. Joel was a completely different story. He acted like you didn’t exist, as if you were merely another bug roaming his house. Though when he saw how good your friendship with Ellie was, his brusque behavior started to fade, or at least settle down somehow.

Sooner than later you started coming over to make dinner, or teach the teenager how to bake some of the recipes your grandmother had thought you -more like you’d do everything while she chatted to keep you entertained-. But truth be told, it became more of an excuse to see him.

Honestly, you were doomed since the very beginning. There was undeniably no way you would’ve been able to escape Joel Miller’s silent charm. His presence became a constant need to you, and you’d often find yourself relating certain things to him. Smoke, denim, pills, booze, watches and boots, to mention a few. To you, he was all gray and blue, merging in the best way possible.

You didn’t expect him to thank you for taking care of them. Them. Not just Ellie, him too. Or that he’d suddenly show up to places you would frequent, which made you wonder, could he possibly feel the same way? Sure, it could’ve been a simple coincidence… If it weren’t for the stolen looks you’d often share. Though his face rarely reflected any interest in you, his piercing gaze would frequently burn your skin every time you were hanging out with other men.

Two weeks ago, Maria had been held back from patrol due to her pregnancy, and you were called to fill up her place. The thing is, you were supposed to leave with Tommy, but somehow ended up with his older brother, riding at dawn in utter silence and searching for a prey to hunt. It wasn’t particularly uncomfortable, yet it allowed you to watch him more attentively: his broad shoulders and sturdy back, the dark graying hair that, in some way, made him more attractive. And then your mind, went to some… Darker places.

How would his big, manly hands feel cupping your breasts? Flashy images of his rough, calloused fingers pinching your nipples meandered your mind. His face buried between your legs, his mustache tickling your…

“You ‘kay there, sweetheart?” He had asked, abruptly taking you out of your freakish daydreaming. “You seem distracted.”

Well, that was a way of putting it. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just…” you babbled, “I hate the rifle.” Joel glanced back at you with a stiff, confused expression. “If I shoot this thing, I’ll feel the kickback on my shoulders and back for at least two weeks from now.”

The horses were stagnant, waiting by the trees while you took a stroll nearby, keeping an eye for any sort of animal that would serve for dinner.

“Show me.” He said, internally amused by your inquiring expression. “Show me how you hold it.”

“Oh…” You compeled, in spite of the anxiety his stern eyes brought upon you.

“You’re doin’ it wrong.” He grunted, coming to approach you, still holding the position.

You scowled, raising a brow to him but not daring to move a muscle. “Maybe you’re just making me nervous, did you think about that?”

Joel plants himself behind you, staying so close that you could feel the warmth of his body through the many layers of clothing. Your heartbeat races when his hand rearranges the rifle on your elbow, unintentionally wrapping his arms around you.

“You need to hold it like this.” His tone was low but still firm. “Keep it up.” You feel his chest pressed to your back and his face near yours, making it hard to breathe.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him, cause if your head turns even a little, you fear the distance between you might as well disappear. His hand holds your wrist steady, the other one going from your elbow to your waist in a tight grip that makes you gasp.

“Do I make you nervous?” He questioned, without letting you go. Paying no mind to the way your nerves buzzed and ears rang at the proximity, you slowly nodded. “Are you afraid of me?”

His doubt made your heart jump and knit your brows together. “No. I trust you.” Joel’s breath hit your temple and it took all the self control in your body not to get rid of the distance.

“You shouldn’t.” Both his hands are on your waist in a firm grasp. He definitely noticed your flushed cheeks, the ragged breathing and constant desire to look at him. Like a damn teenager in love. You gulp, trying to regain composure.

“And why is that?” He didn’t answer, and every second that passed and his hands were still on you only made it worse. You needed to get closer or your lungs would crush under the weight of expectation. “Joel?”

You finally gave in, raising your head to face him. He was already looking down at you, eyes smitten and lost. A reflection of him you’d never seen before. Your gaze goes to his lips and inevitably lick your own before going up to his deep, brown eyes again.

Fucking hell, the man was mesmerizing.

Before you even knew what you were doing, you’re leaning forward, completely forgetting about the rifle and the whole world around you. Your noses touch and your lips merely brush against each other’s. Instinctively, you close your eyes in hopes that he’d go for it.

But he didn’t.

Instead, his hand comes to arrange your posture again, murmuring a lazy ‘easy’ in your ear, that shared moment vanishing in thin air.

“When shooting a weapon this big, you gotta bring your strength from your torso and legs.” And then he acted like nothing happened; nevertheless, he was perfectly aware of the effect he had on you. “That way it won’t hurt after.”

Well shit. Now you had screwed up.

This man was like a father to Ellie and you were not only infatuated with him, but also add to the list that you had purposely tried to kiss him. You were embarrassed, to say the least. Specially since it appeared that whatever feelings you had were one-sided.

Or so you thought, up until last Saturday.

You hadn’t talked with him about it. In fact, you hadn’t even been alone with him ever since. It was probably for the best, though, that way you wouldn’t have to humiliate yourself in front of him any further. Every time you happened to cross paths, he seemed aloof, more indifferent than usual.

It was pretty late, probably past midnight and Joel hadn’t yet arrived. You had spent all day with Ellie and now you were just waiting for his return, but she was growing tired and you didn’t think it was fair for her to stay up for too long.

“Go to bed, okay? I’ll wait for him.” You told her with a smile.

“Nah, don’t worry. I’m not even…” whatever she was going to say got cut off by her yawn.

“Right. You were saying?” She rolled her eyes and snorted at your victorious air.

“Fine. But promise you won’t stay for too long. I’d hate to know you didn’t get any sleep because of me.” You agreed and said everything would be fine, that she had nothing to worry about.

So you waited there on his living room, reading old crappy magazines about celebrity gossip while facing the crackling fire that kept the house warm. It was easy to lose track of time this way, therefore, when the door opened at last, you had no idea how long you had been waiting around. You rushed to his encounter, but you were totally unprepared for what happened next.

“Jesus Christ, Joel. Are you- shit…” the man standing ahead was someone you knew, but could barely recognize. The side of his face was bleeding, a cut going from his temple to the cheekbone and there were bruises scattered around it. He was sweating and you could swear he was about to faint.

You closed the door behind him, tugging his shoulder to drag him inside, all the way to the kitchen. Despite his rumbles of protest, Joel allowed you to do it, putting up no resistance. His mind was screaming at him to tell you that you should leave and that he didn’t need any help. But he was too fucking exhausted and you were being so kind and warm… He just couldn’t bring himself to do it, ignoring the part of his brain that kept telling him ‘you’ll regret this later’. For once in a very long time, he was being irrational, letting another part of him take control; or rather lose it completely.

You sat him down on a chair and took a clean towel, wetting it with cold water to treat the wound. In addition, you also took the bottle of whiskey that he kept locked away where Ellie wouldn’t find it, pouring him a glass. He gulps it down straight away.

Joel observes your every move closely. Your steady hands going to his chin and raising his face to the light, the way your features drown in concern and your dazzling eyes examine the injury. His skin burnt there where you touched him and it was becoming hard for him to keep his mind focused, growing dizzier with pain and intoxicated by your perfume. He really shouldn’t be feeling this way, and it burdens him to know it. Your lovely, young self shouldn’t be an object of his desire; and the fact that you were what he wanted the most was killing him achingly slow.

Because, even if you did want him back, what good could it possibly come from the whole thing? He’d just hold you back. There were plenty of other men in Jackson that could offer you things he certainly couldn’t. Yeah, that was it. He was way too corrupted to be deserving of someone like you.

“Does it hurt too much?” You muttered while getting rid of the blood, careful not to be too harsh.

“S’okay, angel.” The name-calling wasn’t something you usually liked. It sounded condescending coming from other men, but when he did it, your stomach fluttered. “Were you waiting for me?”

You nod vaguely, “I was worried.” His eyes bore into yours and your heart skips a beat. “I mean we. We were worried.”

“Right…” He noticed how your fingers brushed the hair out of his face tenderly, his self-control threatening to crumble under your touch with every second that went by. His hand takes your wrist, preventing you from keeping up your work. For a moment, he says nothing, simply staring at you fixedly. “I think you should leave.” He blurts out, letting go of you.

Oh, there they were. Those mixed signs that you always seemed to misinterpret.

You groan in exasperation, leaving the bloody towel beside the bottle of alcohol. “I’m just trying to help.”

“I don’t need your pity.” Joel was being petty and his deliver managed to hurt a little. But you would not give him that much power, at least not without putting up a fight.

“It’s not about that and you know it.” You cross both arms over your chest and sit on the edge of the table, determined to get out of that agog that wouldn’t let you sleep. “Why are you pushing me away?”

He rubs a hand over his face, taking his time to retort and avoiding your eyes. “I can’t give you what you want.”

You laugh sardonically, challenging him. “And what is that?” His gaze is disdainful and rude, but you don’t let him intimidate you. “Are you afraid?”

If you were anyone else, you’d be shaking with fear. Joel was tough, to the point where some might call him cynical. But you knew he wouldn’t hurt you. His goal was to scare you off.

“Go. I don’t need you here.” You don’t move an inch, resolved to bring an end to whatever this was and ignoring his vicious glare.

“No,” you huffed.

“I told you to leave.” He was getting pissed, his voice trembling with anger and the cold words slicing the tense air.

“And I said no. I don’t take orders from you.” His lips were sealed in a fine line, eyes feisty. “Be honest with me and then I’ll see myself out.”

Silence again. A more prolonged one in which none of you had the bravery to come forward. Every second that went on and nothing happened was a torture you could not endure. That was it then, you’d made a fool of yourself yet again.

“Fine.” Your voice comes out unsteady from choking down the tears as you stand up straight, set on leaving all these feelings behind.

But right when you walk by his side, Joel’s hand grabs your arm softly. His grip wasn’t strong enough to hold you back if you really wanted to go, kind of like he was unsure about his own actions.

“Push me away.” He pleads. And it sounds desperate, as if the whole situation caused him agony. “Please, push me away.”

Your wet your lips, astonished by how guilty he appeared when practically begging you to stay away, “I can’t,” you respond, “I won’t.”

There was no turning back now. He had trapped himself on purpose and jeopardized everything the moment he laid his hand on you. The minute your eyes found each other’s, he realized he’d just lost all willpower that remained.

Joel pulled you closer and the sudden action almost made you trip, forcing you to place both hands on his chest to stay still. Something flicked in his eyes, something you couldn’t quite comprehend. But you took it as a sign to fully give in to your desires, as long as he’d permit it. You sit on his lap, solely enjoying the moment. His face, despite the beating, was ever so beautiful. It wasn’t fair. If he wanted you too, why did he have make it this difficult? Perhaps he was simply… Insecure.

“What have you done to me, sweetheart?” He asked, voice strained as he looks down at your lips. Your fingertips gently trace the edges of his face.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.” One of his hands covers your thigh and the other rests on his knee.

“Do you like playin’ around with an old man like me?” You can’t help but laugh a bit, your thumb going across his bottom lip. “Is this what you want? A sweet thing like you can do so much better.”

“I don’t care for boys, or any other men for that matter.” His chest swells at your words. “I like you, Joel. Is that so hard to believe?” The man swears you can feel his heart thumping against his ribs when he whispers a barely audible ‘yes’. His honesty moved you and grew a weird feeling in your chest that impelled you to prove him wrong.

In response, you lastly get rid of that awful distance, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips and feeling the unfamiliar tickle of his mustache. It was stubborn at first, but he caved in eventually, kissing you back slowly. He took his time to relish on your taste before deepening the kiss, manhandling you on top of him. Joel’s hands are on your lower back and the nape of your neck as his tongue explores your mouth in depth, letting go of himself. You moaned in between the kiss, drunken by every light stimulation, which only spurred him on and turned the situation hungrier, more desperate.

“Joel…” you pull back, laying your forehead against his. “I have to go.”

You feel him chuckle at your declaration. “Seriously? Now?” His tone was raspy and faint.

“I don’t want to.” You assure with a pout, “But I fear that if I stay, this won’t end in a simple kiss. And Ellie’s upstairs, remember?” He agreed it was for the best, but still couldn’t seem to keep his hands to himself, asking you to stay the night even if he had to sleep on the couch.

That was the night that started everything.

After that weekend, the way he acted changed radically. He remained with that grim, stoic exterior. Yet, he was brighter around you, more beaming. In public, he’d always find a way to touch you, even if it was merely a brief brush of skin. On bolder days, he’d pull you apart from a crown and take you somewhere darker to make out for as long as you could. Which wasn’t much, since everyone always appeared to have some sort of unresolved business with either of you.

Today, however, something was odd. Joel went off, as usual, and you stayed with Ellie, who had found an old, ragged chessboard somewhere in Jackson. A game that, as it turns out, you particularly loved.

That’s how you ended up here.

Three rounds afterwards, you keep winning and increasing his irritation.

“Checkmate.” You say for the fifth time tonight, giving him a triumphant smile, getting up from your seat to pour some whiskey into your glass.

“You’re cheating.” He barks, annoyed.

“See! I told you.” Ellie backed him up and the way they teamed up to bash you almost made you giggle.

“Suck it up, losers!” You shout from the kitchen, entertained by their resentment.

“Spill your secrets then, otherwise I will simply not be convinced.” She replies, glowering.

The drink nearly dissolves on your tongue and you leave the glass on the counter, coming to join them again. You rest both hands on her shoulders in a friendly gesture.

“My grandpa thought me when I was young. Before the outbreak, I mean.” Ellie turns her head to look at you in interest. “He got sick afterwards… Forgetful and amnesiac.” You explain, “Chess stimulated his brain and since I was his only family left, we would spend hours playing.” Joel’s chest feels heavy at the sight of your nostalgic smile. “We had a great time together. He… Passed away a couple years ago.” Ellie takes your hand on her own in a comforting manner, but you don’t feel particularly sad, simply emotional about the past. “Hey, kiddo. Didn’t you have a movie night with Dina today?”

“Shit!” Her eyes widen. “Thanks for the reminder, I totally lost track of time,” she gets up with an apologetic smile, “I’m gonna head out now.” She quickly takes a jacket and ties her hair up. “You guys can keep playing or… I don’t know, just don’t wait around for me.”

And just like that, you’re left alone.

After an entire week of sneaking around and behind everyone’s back, you’re finally alone.

There’s a shift in the air of the room and you narrow your eyes when you gape at him. “You think she knows something?”

He tilts his head to the side and finishes his whiskey. “Probably. Can’t know for sure.” The vague answer made you shrug, deciding to put a pin to it for later.

Now that no one was around, you were determined to have some fun, coming up with a plan that could escalate things between you. And he surely thought so too. It wouldn’t be difficult to get his attention, since he was constantly monitoring your every move. Being that way, you intentionally stand beside him when leaning to reorder the pieces, giving him a very good view of your ass.

“Another round?” You ask tauntingly, “Or are you already tired of getting defeated?”

He grunts, upset by the previous resolutions. “I’d like to play another game.” You turn around with a cheeky smile. “One that I won’t lose.”

“And what would that be?” He gives you a darkened, intense glance, his lips pursed in a smirk.

Joel Miller was a man of few words and he totally lived up to it. Instead of responding, he grabbed your hips and dragged your body to the side, so that you were now standing between his legs, lingering against the edge of the table. You swallow hard, meeting his heavy gaze from above him. It made your pulse raise and blood rush, igniting something that you haven’t quite felt with anyone else yet. He presses a kiss to your clothed abdomen, eyes never wandering from yours as he lowers his lips to your pelvis, lifting your shirt leisurely.

“Look at you, darlin’. All flustered and I’ve barely done anything.” Your chest rises and falls methodically, the atmosphere feeling dense despite the chilly air. Your tongue darts out to lick your lips when he starts laying open-mouthed kisses along your exposed belly, sending shivers through your whole body, “Off,” he motions at your clothes.

You do as told, getting rid of the shirt and tossing it to the floor. His big, warm hands strain your movements as he explores your skin, kissing all the way up to the valley of your breasts.

“Joel…” you take a fistful of his hair and pull at it mildly, just enough to yank his head backwards and bring your lips together, swallowing a whimper from him.

The kiss is ambitious, all teeth and tongue, as if you had been craving each other for long and had just barely given in. He swiftly stands up and sits you at the end of the table, spreading your knees to settle in between your thighs. He parts from your mouth and traces your jawline, neck and collarbones, nibbling and sucking the sensitive skin, lightly scraping it with his facial hair. You were a mess at this point, panting and tugging at him as if you were about to collapse. But then he stops, breathing heavily against your chest and looking up to you with dark, lustful eyes.

“What- Did I do something wrong?” You stutter with uncertainty.

“Ain’t nothing wrong, angel.” His hand rests heavy on your thigh, a mischievous grin painted on his face. “But I told you we’d play a different game, didn’t I?”

This new side of him was exciting in many ways possible and whatever it was he wanted to do, you were certain it was going to be fun. And, possibly, a bit tortuous. You peer at him in expectation.

“Make your move.” He commanded, pointing the board with a succinct head movement. You obligue, choosing a random pawn and moving it with shaky hands while struggling to think straight. The man hums and decides to mirror your tactic. “Keep goin’.”

Next thing you know his fingers unhook your bra and you have to make a quick choice in spite of all the distractions. At the end, you go for a horse, barely capable of register anything other than his hands taking off the piece of clothing. After contemplating your scheme, he moves another pawn in return.

“Shit.” He hissed at the sight of your exposed tits, nipples hard from the cold air and arousal. “Focus.”

You weren’t sure if that last order was for him or for you, but either way the game kept going. He had enough attention span to grope your breasts and tweak your nipples between the pads of his calloused fingers, while also moving the chess pieces around. You couldn’t say the same for yourself; a louder moan escaping your lips when he replaced his fingers with his mouth.

The more ministrations he provided, the harder it became to make strategic moves. But you were determined not to let him win, regardless of the ache between your legs and the growing wetness in your panties that he refused to attend.

“Joel, I…” He takes away one of your rooks, his lips attached to your neck and hands caressing your inner thighs. “I need more.”

He huffs a laugh that vibrates through your lower body. “That right, angel? Tell me what you want.”

You take away his only bishop left and hear him growl at his approaching defeat. “Touch me, please.”

“Where?” His scent fogs your senses, so manly and distinctive of him, growing the need to feel him in any way possible. “Words, sweetheart.”

“I need your fingers in my cunt, Joel.” You spit out, watching his Adam’s apple bob up and down his throat and increasing his arousal with your lack of coyness. “Please.”

“Anything for my pretty girl.” He unbuttons your pants and slides one hand inside, palming your pussy over the underwear, altering your breathing pattern and moving the queen with his free hand. “Fuck, you’re drippin’.” You grind against his hand and his grip on your waist tightens to keep you still as he kneads circles on your clit over the thin fabric. “Your turn, darlin’.”

The game carries on at the same time as he moves your panties aside and slides two thick fingers inside your entrance, his thumb still fondling your nub slowly. You can’t keep your moans at low and the stimulation picks up when he curls his digits to hit your right spots. All that can be heard in the room is the cracking wood of the fireplace and the squelching sounds of your pussy.

“Jesus Christ, Joel…” you cry out his name, burying your face on the crook of his neck, grabbing the soft flannel in your fists and spilling all your whimpers into his ear, delighting yourself with the way he smelt. He groans at the feeling of your bare chest pressed to him, his cock throbbing painfully at every sound you’d make.

“You like that, darlin’? You like to fuck my fingers on top of this table like a needy little whore?” You clench around him and throw your head back, a new wave of slick coating all the way to his knuckles. “Ah, so you do like it.”

“Yes, Joel. I-” he speeds up his pace, greedily circling your clit in a way that makes your back arch, giving him a glorious view from his position.

“Fuck, you’re so hot. Been wanting to do this for so fuckin’ long…” He admits, peppering kisses all over your breasts.

“Me too. Thought about you when I-” your voice gets lost at the sudden feeling of heat settling on your lower stomach, building up your crescendo. “When I was alone.” Your confession only manages to prompt him further and make his movements more effective. You squirm under his touch, a hand messing his hair while the other holds his belt to keep him close.

He groans a deep ‘fuck’ at the pathetic sound you made. All because of him. No; all of them for him.

“Joel, I’m- shit, I’m close,” there’s a hotness on the pit of your stomach that extends to your legs.

“I know, angel.” He coos, his free hand brushing the hair out of your face. “Go ahead, do it.” His words are all it takes for your orgasm to hit, shocking every nerve on your body. He helps you come down from it, tracing soothing patterns on your bare skin as your body quivers from elation.

“Joel…” you whisper, both your hands on his belt and going to unbuckle it, watching as he takes both fingers to his lips and licks them clean.

“Sweet” he kisses you again, deeply. You happily return it with the same energy, nibbling at his bottom lip while your palm slides inside his jeans to feel up his bulge over the underwear. He muffles a moan in your mouth, his hot, hard cock twitching under your grip.

Your hand drifts inside his boxers to feel him directly, your thumb rubbing over the tip to spread the surprising amount of precum that oozed there. Joel gasped into your mouth, the sound prompting you further.

“Checkmate.” You tell him, pulling back only when you needed to breathe, guiding your finger to your tongue in order to taste him. “I won.”

His eyes divert to the board in awe, and you admire his mesmerized expression when he confirms that you had, in fact, won again. Joel comes back to dote on your devilish grin, fueled up by a new thrill of excitement.

“Fuck this…” he mutters through gritted teeth, mindlessly tossing the board to the side and letting it fall off the table along with all the pieces, making an absolute mess. It appears like he doesn’t even register any of it, going straight back to kissing you, his hands sliding your pants down your legs.

“Shit, Joel…” You can’t help but laugh at his reaction, encouraged by his sudden passion.

As your lips collide once again, you start to unbutton his shirt and he helps you out of your jeans, along with your very wet panties. He pushes your back against the wooden surface, holding you down with a hand around your neck.

“Winners that boast in their victory are only brats.” He snarls, taking his dick out for you to see. Your mouth waters at the sight of it: thick, bigger than you could’ve expected, the head swollen and glistening. “Brats need to be tamed.”

You whine when he parts your thighs even wider, teasing your slit with his tip, covering it in your slick and intentionally grazing your aching clit, urging you to grab his bicep for support.

“Can’t you just fuck me already?” You blurt out, the sensation only edging you more. “I might just cum again from all the teasing.”

His fingertip sweeps across your bottom lip, an eyebrow raised. “You really that sensitive, angel?” He questions, “Or is it just because of me?”

The inquiry nearly makes you crack up. Damn, the man was totally clueless. “Are you really that unaware of the effect you have on me?”

His stare reflects how pleased he is to hear that. “How many times did you beat me tonight, sweetheart?”

It takes an actual effort for you to recall and muster up an answer when he keeps toying with you so mercilessly. “Three, I presume.”

Joel’s hand slithers to your lower back, keeping you angled for him. “Then I’ll get you off three times.” Your heart jumps at the sentence and you look at him in disbelief. “Can you do that, angel?”

Three fucking times?

When your whole life men had only ever given you… None, practically. One at most, if you were lucky enough. And Joel mother-fucking Miller had the nerve to ask if you could handle three.

“Bet.” The answer is music to his ears, giving in once and for all as he enters you unhurriedly.

He’s so big and you feel him splitting you open exquisitely, the sensation fading any thoughts, beliefs or identities from your mind. Right now, all you know is him. It stings a little and it forces you to screw your eyes shut, letting out a small whine as he bottoms out, your nails digging on his arm.

“You’re doing s’good, baby.” He continues to say in midst of it, talking your way through it, “Taking me so well…” You think it’s somewhat unfair that he’s still fully clothed and you’re naked as the day you came; yet, at the moment your mind can’t even think of anything but his cock, buried deep inside you. “If something feels off or it becomes to much… Let me know and I’ll stop.” You nod, eagerness starting to scratch your insides.

“Yes. Now can you please, please start moving.” He holds back a chuckle, gazing at you from above, barely lifting your hips to feel more of him.

“Atta girl,” he obeys, thrusting his hips sharply and deep. “Look so pretty beggin’ to be fucked.” His big arm travels to the arch in your back, withdrawing and pushing in again, slowly losing his consciousness to pleasure.

“Fucking hell, you fill me up so good…” he moans gruffly at your comment, pulling you down on his cock as he picks up an unrelenting pace, hitting every right spot as if he knew them all by memory.

“Shit, you’re so tight,” Joel drags in an out, rejoicing himself in every high pitched moan you’d spill. Your legs wrap around his waist in an effort to keep him as close as you could.

The angle is very intimate, his whole body flushed against yours, warm and firm, while your hand snakes under his flannel to dig your nails on his bare shoulders, the other scratching his scalp delicately and Joel’s hot, erratic breaths hitting your face as you gape at him. It’s like everything else disappeared and it was all about the two of you and this moment of pure rapture. Unable to contain your urge, you search for his lips, kissing him one more time, the mixture of mint and alcohol in his mouth fogging your senses in the best way possible.

His tip nudges your g-spot relentlessly, the stretch his girth provided so satisfying that you clench around him as your second orgasm approaches, causing him to pull apart from the kiss and let out a sinful groan, deep from his throat, that sends a shudder up your spine. It all becomes too much; the friction of your delicate nipples with his shirt, his thick cock dragging against your walls and lastly, Joel’s teeth biting down the soft skin under your ear, his facial hair scraping deliciously. That is your cum button.

“That’s my girl, making a mess on my dick,” he fucks you through it, slowing down his pace and only pulling out when your legs tremble. “Say it darlin’, tell me who you belong to.”

“You, Joel…” he basks in the view of your fucked out self, looking up at him in a delirious state, eyes low, heat soared across your cheeks and lips plumped. “Shit, Miller,” you sit up, arm still hanging around his broad shoulders while his hard, throbbing cock rested against your thigh. “You’re so fucking hot, did you know that? It drives me insane.”

He laughs huskily, his big hand caressing the side of your face in a caring manner. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he speaks softly, “I think I might’ve fucked you so hard I scrambled your brain.”

You actually crack up this time, pressing a kiss to his forehead and muttering an: “Idiot.” He grabs your thighs and methodically swirls your body, flushing your back against his chest. Without warning, he slams into you again, making you yelp at the sudden action.

“You’ve got a dirty mouth,” he pokes fun at you, “next time we’ll put it to use.” And the promise raises goosebumps on your skin.

This new position gave you the opportunity to feel him deeper, if that was even possible. His thighs and hips firm against yours, every single snap making you feel that delicious stretch he provided as your cunt envelopes him tightly. But you were already far too sensitive and every light touch added to his thrusts made your body feel weaker.

“Joel, I-” he holds you with an arm covering your waist, his fingers pinching your nipples. “Fuck, I won’t last…”

He becomes more vocal, his disjointed moans drifting from his lips right into your ear while the hand on your hip makes its way to rub your clit gloriously, in a way that makes you wonder just how the fuck does he know exactly what your body likes.

“Is my sweet girl gonna cum for me?” you nod, unable to form any words, only capable of reveling on the way his cock throbs inside you. “Speak, remember?”

But you can’t. Nothing comes out of your mouth besides his name, like a constant plea. When the third one finally came, it was simply euphoric; your whole body shudders and your vision goes white, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes as you start to feel lightheaded. Joel draws out with a grunt, a string of curses leaving his lips as you spin around to see him. Your hand wraps around his own when he fucks his fist and you take in the sight of him cumming all over your fingers, his forehead laying on your shoulder as you milk him. Inevitably, you lick your fingers to taste his salty load. A sight that would be engraved in his brain for the rest of his days and that could possibly haunt him in his time apart from you.

“Checkmate my ass,” he grits between shaky breaths, your hand stroking his hair as he comes down from his high.

“What a sore loser…” you joke. In fact, you plan to say something more, but you feel too tired for anything.

It didn’t really matter, though. Joel took good care of you. He bathed with you, cleaned up the whole mess and gave you one of his shirts for you to sleep with, eventually going to bed with your very passed out self.

Well, if Ellie didn’t know anything before, she surely will now.

#joel miller #joel the last of us #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #the last of us oneshot #the last of us hbo

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mitsvriii · 26 days

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five things

↳ ❝ [aventurine x reader] ¡! ❞ 『 ↳✧･slight angst, hurt to comfort, 2.1 spoilers for everytime aventurine, possibly ooc, not proofread !!; word count: 1,2k+ ↳ mention of trauma so interact with some caution!! end notes for more!-༉‧₊˚✧

Aventurine hated his body. The way it was often molded like starchy dough to fit the needs of others, whether it was to be a perfect fit for when he was sold off, a killer to survive, or even when he, himself reached out with flimsy hands to make himself appear above everyone else when seated at a table to gamble away. But oh, was he always so, so scared whenever he had to act as anyone but himself, afraid that the dough that covered his body would bake into a form that he couldn’t break out of.

His ‘peaceful’ nights of rest were only filled with worries of his numerous personas as if they were the grains of sand that filled the hourglass of his mind. Waking up in terror as he searched for you in bed, scrambling to clutch onto you with breaths of panic as your words broke the glass, letting the sand spill out from his mind.Tainted with touches from his past, marked with stains of greedy men and devious women. If each touch left a mark of paint, then his entire body would be akin to a canvas that was decorated in a messy fixture. Even the warmth of your embrace barely did any help to wipe away the stains of pigments.

You loved his smile. You had invited him to read a book that you recently ordered online, and at the sight of your excited face to have a reading partner he caved and gave you a smile so heartfelt that you swear your heart quite literally fluttered like a butterfly’s wings.

It wasn’t often that you made him smile, nonetheless, laugh with your, albeit poor attempts, at making jokes. Whenever you did, however, the laugh that rattled throughout his lungs was so melodic that it could’ve been compared to a lullaby. It was so sweet that you often paused your reading to just admire him in his scarce, carefree state. A forearm over his eyes, positioned so you could barely see the crinkle of his eyes and the slight show of dimples that were an outcome of the pokes that his lips made.

Aventurine hated the mark that made its home on his neck, a reminder of the fact that he was always going to be a pawn in someone’s chess game; easily sacrificed yet oh, so hard to get back once lost. He often sought to cover it up whenever he was home with you, whether it be with scarfs for trips to cold planets or sweaters that nearly choked him with their necks, he opted to cover up the hideous brand that only brought back disgusting memories.

You didn’t seem to mind it, going as far as to even kiss it when nuzzled up together. The urge to retch whenever you treated it as if it were just an ordinary accessory instead of something that was a reminder of the part of himself that had done so many horrible actions. Although he knew you understood that it was what he had to do at the time, he couldn’t care less. When he couldn’t even stand to try and make a move to cover it up himself, you often wrapped it up for him, making sure not to latch the piece of cloth too tight upon his neck so he could breathe.

You loved the little things he did out of pure habit. He doesn’t even realize half of them but you do. The way he fiddles with his fingers, brushing his thumb against his middle and ring to where he snaps accidentally. Whenever he cooks he plays music and dances to himself when he does, bobbing his head and moving his shoulders. While he did so, a hand was held out by him as an invitation to join him. You never once turned down the offer.

Cuddling with you was something that Aventurine enjoyed. He buries his face in your neck or side depending on the position that the two of you are in and, despite how whiney he may get, enjoys when you play with his hair as it gives you both something to focus on. Always flushes, albeit slightly, whenever you pepper kisses on his face as if your lips are dabbing actual blush onto his cheeks. Catching you off guard, he likes to get you back by giving your face a boatload of kisses, causing you to giggle and call out his name playfully in the midst of it all.

Aventurine hated the way he was distant with you. So close yet so far from fully being able to have a ‘good’ relationship with you. Some nights he slept beside you and others he spent awake pondering or resting on the sofa within the other room. It took him months to even be comfortable enough to let you kiss him, nonetheless to cook his meals and rest with him in the same bed. Aventurine knew that some relationships were slow, but not slow enough that a tortoise could make more progress in a race than he could in a relationship.

Thoughts of if you could be happier with someone else ventured into his mind whenever he sulked in the dead of night when you were asleep. He knew you wouldn’t, though, as he had already captured your heart as his own. Frequently, doubt of if he should even be allowed to love someone such as you was the cause of most of his worries, though he would never say it aloud; mostly afraid of the reaction that you would have of his self-doubt.

You loved him. You loved the way he treated you like porcelain whenever you were upset, the way he always tried to laugh at some of the things you had found funny to not make you feel awkward, how he remembered your favorites even though you might’ve only brought them up once. He was distant some of the time, sure, but he always made up for it. Your relationship wasn't the stereotypical one of two happy partners, yet you were happy with it.

Aventurine grasped and held onto your affection no matter how much he lacked to return it to you, and that was okay with you. Aventurine dealt with guilt numerous times and that was okay with you, you would always be there to console him. Aventurine rarely could rest and it kept you up most nights but that was okay, he had trauma, it was a natural response. You loved him no matter how much he cried on you, no matter how much he distanced himself after a bad day, or no matter how little he would eat because he couldn’t stomach the food. At the end of the day, he loved you as much as you loved him, and that was all that mattered.

also for the differences between what he hates and you love, it’s the little things versus the big things. for example; take lust vs love in mind with the comparisons. he pays attention to his body yet you opt for his smile. he despises the mark on his neck for ruining it and bringing back memories but you only notice the little fidgets and habits that he has.

#🍙 - honkai star rail writings #・ nouveau livre ˎˊ˗#aventurine x reader #aventurine x you #hsr x reader #hsr x you #aventurine honkai star rail #aventurine fluff #aventurine angst #hsr fluff #hsr angst

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lizzaneia-elizalde · 8 days

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Yandere(?) Jing Yuan

MY HUSBAND ✨

A little warning though. I quit playing HSR after 2.something. I don't remember. But it's because my devices can't handle it anymore :( at least I got Jing Yuan before I deleted the game. So I am probably going to put some wrong information here. Especially the timeline. Forgive me! Also,I lied. I'm not making this fic NSFW. Have some not so good angst LMAO Of course, there's spoilers so... Spoiler alert! Notes: Highly OOC Jing Yuan. He's a lonely man fr fr. Also, an extra long fic as an apology for disappearing like that lol. Also, not even sure if this counts as yandere. But just to be safe, i'm putting it here. So, dead dove, do not eat.

Being a long time trailblazer from the Astral Express made you develop quite the wanderlust in you.

You were originally from Xianzhou. A spoiled kid of a rich family that decided to embrace the free life when the Astral Express first visited your planet.

You developed a strong friendship with Himeko and Welt, alongside treating Dan Heng and March as your little siblings/children.

When Stelle arrived in the Astral Express, it seems that your little family is complete. Sure, Stelle may be a little gremlin with a Stellaron inside, but hey. Family is family.

When the talks of going to Xianzhou appeared, you volunteered to guide Stelle and March around alongside Welt. You did miss your family, and wanted to prove that you weren't the same immature person before.

Well, you know what happened next.

The wharf being abandoned, littered with mara struck soldiers...

It seems that Xianzhou became worse for wear.

Fearing for the worst, you urged the three to follow you and defeated the Mara stricken soldiers in such precision.

Seriously. You follow Nihility since you want to be more laid back in your life. But why does life keep forcing lemons down your throat? Now, it's even your family being dragged in your bad luck!

You got dragged by the three around until you all got to the square, and immediately bade goodbye for the time being. Promising to help them as soon as they need to. For now, you need to get back to your family.

Once you got to the manor, you burst through the door and was immediately smacked to shit by your parents.

"YOU PRODIGAL CHILD! NOW YOU COME BACK HOME?! HOW DARE YOU SHOW YOUR FACE..."

A nagfest, you took in their worry filled words with a sharp edge before calming them down. You asked if any in your family have been mara stricken, but all of them shook their head thankfully enough.

Then, you noticed a man by the tea room. It seems that your parents forgot etiquette and abandoned their guest.

"AH! Forgive us, General! It's just this child... Oooh this child!"

You took a peak and was stunned.

Jing Yuan. The guy whose family is from the Realm-Keeping Commissions? And he's the general now? That's...

"You remember Yuan-yuan, right? Y/N'er?"

Oh you remember alright. How can you not? You loved this man a lot.

You squirmed under Jing Yuan's golden gaze that's filled with an unreadable emotion that you're sure had to do with your past.

And the past is what he desperately holds onto up to this day...

"General! The astral express--"

Jing Yuan's usual relaxed demeanor stiffened, his eyes going rigid. If one looks close, the chess piece he's holding onto cracked, making it glitch.

His face softener a bit as to not scare Yanqing more who stepped back a bit.

"Is that so? Thank you for the information, Yanqing. You can go rest now."

The kid nodded before walking away and leaving Jing Yuan alone.

His world, once so bleak and dry, suddenly had a drop of rain that he once missed and took advantage of, thinking it won't go away.

"Y/N..." He whispered to himself, putting down the piece and washing his face with his palm.

Other than Jing Liu and the others, you were one of the few people he's close to. Ever since you both were in the academy, you've always didn't like his quite stubborn nature. He didn't like his academic strand, wanting to be a cloud knight.

He noticed you pulling a face whenever he cuts classes, sleeps, loafs around... Sure, you were spoiled to bits, but at least you have the decency to be good in school.

So, he made it a point to annoy you greatly. Always popping around the block wherever you were, following you while talking your ear off... Doesn't help that he's a classmate, it's a daily annoyance that you gradually welcomed over time.

It's a friendship born from being together all the time. You watch him train with Jing Liu, taught him stuff he didn't understand, and in return, he would teach you how to fend for yourself since you always told him you wanted to travel the galaxy.

And that friendship developed into something more intimate. Exchanging shy giggles, flirty whispers, firsts of everything... Even without a label other than lovers, you both knew that you two are destined and tied together. Soulmates, if you will.

He's happy that you were by his side. With the quintet and you, how much more happiness does he need in his life?

But sometimes, so much happiness meant that there will be a terrible thing happening the next day.

Fortunately for you, you left Xianzhou before the Baiheng incident in the process of saving the Xianzhou Yuque. It was a timely flight that Jing Yuan supported so that you will be safe from the chaos that will unfold.

Unfortunately for Jing Yuan though, he paid the price of seeing his friends fall one by one.

Baifeng, sacrificing herself when fighting Shuhu, Dan Feng creating a draconic abomination in the process of trying to ressurect Baifeng and solving the Vidyadhara reproduction problem, Yingxing being backfired and becoming immortal stricken with mara, and JIng Liu, also struck with mara.

He watches as his beloved quintet crumble to dust in such a short time, even defeating his own beloved master in order to save so many lives and bring justice to those lost.

Jing Yuan had no one. No one to turn to, no one to confide in.

In times like those, what he yearned is you. For you to return, for you to look at him with so much grief, concern, and care.

All he wanted is your hug, your reassurance that it wasn't his fault, and it wasn't his burden to carry.

But you didn't return. Not even a peep, not even a soul.

700 long years of waiting, of bottling up his emotions that it almost spilt over.

Sure, he's happier now, but is he truly happy?

Deep inside, he kind of resented you for being so blissfully unaware of what happened to him. Of what happened to the quintet. You never even contacted him in those 700 years. Did you just forget your relationship just like that? Did you move on from him? He thought both of you were together forever?

Then slowly, he got jealous. Of you, at first. Just travelling across the galaxies without a worry in the world. How selfish of you to just run off to the farflungs of the universe just to never contact him again. Shame on you. He's a worried lover! How can he not? Then, he got jealous of the people that you must have met. How much were they charming you that you forgot about him, your soulmate?

He started visiting your family in year 300 too. Consoling them and telling that you were gonna go back home. When? Soon. Like really soon.

He found solace in your family that started treating him as their own son. Taking care of him when he visits, entertaining him with a game of chess, maybe even talk about their life.

He also heard more stories about you. About your spoiled attitude outside of school, of your rebellious years, of your wants and needs to see the outside. It's as if he's living vicariously through your parents, and relieving your memories in order to not forget you.

Then, he starts yearning for your presence once more after just trying to forget you.

It's a never ending addictive cycle that he's lost in the deep trenches in.

You were the only constant in this godforsaken world, the wine he yearns to drown himself in in order to forget his problems. But his problem is the wine, his problem is you. But the alcoholic he is, he continue to guzzle down the addictive taste until reality blurs with fantasy. In which a picture perfect world existed were nothing went wrong, and you were still there back in his arms.

Over the years, he somehow got over it. Turned to tea, thought about stuff. But your family reminded him so much of you and told so much stories of you that he became so attached to the idea of you.

He started a little hobby of writing letters to your non-existent being. Thinking you'll read them in the future. He refuses to believe that you're dead and rotting in a ditch somewhere. He knows that you're alive. He knows it.

He wrote down what he wishes to tell you, on what he wanted to do with you once you come back like a little drink, maybe even roam around and show you what Xianzhou looks like after 700 years.

Then, it devolved into his frustrations, anger, jealousy, and grief about what happened in those measly years. On why he wanted to have you so bad with him, to have the only remaining friend with him by his side. He wants to cling to you, to finally have a full on restful sleep, but also yell at you for leaving him behind.

He thought of the people that made you forget him. Of the people that took you away from him. Yes, they may, no, they ARE the reason why you weren't returning home. They must be.

He knows he's wrong. And he's working on it. A few letters down the road had him apologizing, telling he's in the wrong, and started writing about what to do once you come back.

Until those letters carried a weight that he's thinking of.

What will happen if you decided to stay in Xianzhou this time?

What will happen if something or someone made you stay?

What if, Jing Yuan forced you stay?

An absurd idea, but those letters quickly became a drawn out plan on what he'll do to make you stay by him, by his side. Eternally until the end of both of your lifespans.

And those letters were now safely kept in his hand. They will not see the light of the day.

The time he knew that the Astral Express came to their wharf, with Yanqing telling him, he immediately ran to Fu Xuan to know who are the passengers of the train that stepped out to help.

And there you are. You chose the path of Nihility. Fitting for a person like you who wished for everything, yet nothing. A spoiled kid who only wanted meaningless vices and thrills to fill the void inside. You grew up so much just as him.

What is this feeling inside? Relief? Resentment? Guilt? Love?

Woah, love? Really? Does he really still feel love for you? Or is that just a byproduct of the putrid mix of emotions inside of him?

He always knew his feelings for you never disappeared. It was supposed to be just a harmless puppy love that is forgotten over time. Like come on, it's been seven centuries.

But seeing you there, with your mother still nagging you, and your eyes locked onto him with an excited, naive look on your face made those forgotten emotions resurface.

And unfortunately, became an unfortunate ingredient in the rancid pot of emotions he bottled up over the years.

The General, known for being laid back and relaxed, can feel that image slowly crack and crumble every step you take towards him with a smile on your face.

It's so painful. How can you have that sweet smile on your face while he had to endure so much guilt and pain that he doesn't deserve to undergo?

What's worse is that your smile was lifting so much off of his shoulders to the point that he wants to drag those problems back to his shoulders and stubbornly hold onto them just to prove you a point.

He can't believe you had so much power over him. It's driving him insane how your mere presence shook the centuries worth of healing that he did for himself.

The conflicting thoughts started to whirl in his head.

He wants you to stay, but he wants you to disappear now that you're actually here.

In those mere seconds, he composed himself and gave you a soft smile. A smile that usually had a lazy quality in them now looks rigid.

"Y/N, my love. How are you? It's been seven centuries!" Calm and composed. That's what he wishes his voice sounds like.

You, sweet, oblivious you, hugged him with such a smile on your face. After all, Jing Yuan was your lover. And you hoped that he didn't hate you that much from not communicating.

"Yuan! I'm so glad I met you here again! Wow... You're a general now! How cool is that?!"

Your excited voice grated his ears to the point that he wants to cover it vehemently, but he also wants to get a hold of it and hear it over and over again. Reassuring himself that you're actually here in the flesh with him and not just a figment of his fractured reality.

With a smile, you grabbed his hand and got out of your parents' manor, wanting to apologize to Yuan by catching up.

Are you really that insensitive? Such naive thinking that by only talking things out, the problem will be resolved. Well, in your defense, you didn't know what happened with JIng Yuan and the quintet. All you knew is that they grew apart from the looks of it.

You didn't undergo the same traumatic experience that Jing Yuan did, the agonizing isolation, the years of waiting for that somebody to come home, and your mental health devolving into something more sinister, something that crosses with your logic multiple times.

But here you are, flashing your carefree smile at the dying Jing Yuan who squeezed out a chuckle.

He wishes that you burn in hell. He wishes that HE burns in hell. He wishes to burn with you, spending the last agonizing minutes with you finally in his arms again.

He grasps your hand, wrestling out an apology in his mind to you.

But he can't let you go until you knew of the agony you left him with.

And that's going to take a lifetime with you by his side, shackled and ruined.

It has been a whirlwind of emotions.

You saw Dan Heng, turn into your old friend Dan Feng. Well, his visage anyways. Were you that blind to not see the similarities? Or were you blocking the image out of your mind in order to protect your own peace?

And Yingxing, no, Blade. When did he turn into this immortal, suicidal maniac who wishes for nothing but death for himself and revenge?

And it's Dan Feng's fault? Dan Feng would never!

Your image of Dan Heng/Feng started to mix, making you dizzy and confused.

Baiheng. She died? Did she really? So did Dan Feng's ritual work or not? Did she reincarnate? Is she somewhere out there?

What happened in those years?!

And Jing Liu... Jing Yuan's master. Mara stricken and committed a massacre. That Jing Liu?

Jing Yuan even defeated her himself... Oh gods, did he just carry that burden all by himself? All those years... Centuries of pain and suffering that he didn't deserve.

The carnage, the aftermath, the result of grieving.

It's almost too much to bear for you.

And you were just out in the world, travelling and being all wishy washy, enjoying yourself with your newfound friends?

For gods sake, you were Jing Yuan's lover! Did you just forget about him just like that? Then those promises. Were those fake and surface level?!

How about your old friends? Did you even consider them? In those seven centuries, did you not even think of them?

Of course you did! But you swore that you thought that they're going to do fine!

Guilt riddled your weary body. Exhaustion catching up to you as you wept in your room.

So much to process, so much to grieve. It was almost too much if it weren't for Jing Yuan there to comfort you. Telling you that it was okay, that it wasn't your fault.

But what if's kept popping up your mind. What if you returned earlier? What if you were there for Jing Yuan? What if you didn't actually leave?

And Jing Yuan was so nice throughout the whole thing. You only talked to Dan Heng for a little while, but you need more time.

You felt so selfish for being like this. Why are you so affected when you weren't even there?

That's it. You weren't there. You weren't there for your friends, for Jing Yuan who only has you.

Seven centuries of loneliness... How did he even endure it?

You wanted to share the burden so bad, to be with him and atone for those time lost. You want to be there for him.

You are a terrible lover. A terrible friend, and a terrible person. Those phrases continued to mingle in your mind and wore you down to your barebones.

Now, even a sneeze from Jing Yuan warrants you to panic.

And Jing Yuan had a sick sense of satisfaction from seeing you wallow in sorrow.

Again, he knows it's wrong. He knows that he shouldn't be delighted in seeing you suffer.

But that side of him loves the attention he thinks he deserves. The care that he's deprived of, the love that he's blatantly robbed of.

So, he eggs that anxiety in yours on more by talking about the past and the pain he went through, his eyes narrowing in an indescribable stare as your person gets hammered down more and more.

It was eating him alive. But he assures himself that this is just temporary. Once he felt satisfied, he will start fixing you up again good as new.

And, as your parents urged you to finally marry Jing Yuan, and you nodding in desperation to make it up to him more from the centuries of neglect as his lover, Jing Yuan apologizes in his mind once more, and holds you close.

Hello love, you certainly gave everyone a scare. They're all just thrilled to see you safe and sound. As for this latest little game of yours, thank the stars it's over. Did you have fun? Did you get everything out of your system? Good, good. Everyone is so relieved. Welcome home, Y/n. -Jing Yuan

(Original, unedited quote from White Diamond in Steven Universe)

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