#vague waving of time traveling shenanigans
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Do you have any headcanons on how Emmet would react to Ingo and Volos relationship?
I'd imagine if Emmet sent himself to the past to find his brother he'd probably disapprove of Volo, Volo is pretty suspicious on his own but if he found out he's the reason his brother is there he'd most likely wouldn't understand how Ingo not only forgave him but is also in a relationship with him.
Even before Emmet found out he most likely already felt something was off about Volo
This got long again
Anytime Ingo starts to flirt around with ANYONE, Emmet is on guard. They're both attractive and get plenty of attention from men and women alike. Emmet isn't terribly interested in that sort of thing, but Ingo has been known to, very very rarely, flirt back when someone comes onto him (in his own strange way.) If someone is particularly persistent he might go out for coffee with them, but things never really progress past that, and Ingo has wound up terribly dissapointed and a tad bit hurt multiple times because of it.
The last thing Emmet wants is for Ingo to start to catch feelings for someone only to have his heart broken, so he becomes VERY protective whenever Ingo starts dating.
Assuming that Volo cracked and admitted he was involved in the mess that lead to Ingo being pulled into Hisui, it probably would have taken Ingo quite some time to forgive Volo. He doesn't remember what he lost, what his life was like before Hisui, and Volo swears on everything that he knows and loves that he didn't mean to cause Ingo's situation. It was a long series of, at this point very unfortunate, incidents and bad choices that lead them to where they are today. Volo, banned from Jubilife, on very shaky grounds with the two clans, entirely unsure what his future holds and whether or not Ingo will still be in it.
Volo gives Ingo his space, he'd wait as long as he had to for his love, even if Ingo never forgave him. Ingo gladly takes the time to think on what he has learned. He's actually the one who talks the clans down from just straight up exiling Volo completely, and it's while he's making these negotiations that he realizes just how painfully much he misses Volo, and that in this strange, unfamiliar world he had been such a bright light. He'd give just about anything to have him by his side again, to just go back to the way things were before.
Once vague peace has been made with the Diamond and Pearl clans on Volo's behalf, Ingo sets out to find him. They cross paths in the Highlands of course, and Ingo sits Volo down and they talk. It's a long conversation on a longer path of healing, but for all his mistakes, Volo admits that the biggest one was not recognizing how much of a blessing Arceus had bestowed upon him by bringing Ingo into his life.
They part ways that night with warm feelings and hope for the future. There is still work to be done, but they each rest easy knowing that they will see the other again soon.
Years pass by from the incident and people move past it. Ingo and Volo settle in, and despite their time apart for their jobs, it's almost domestic. Ingo is happier than he's ever been there in Hisui, and Volo can imagine spending the rest of his life with Ingo.
Then Emmet shows up.
I think if Emmet showed up to Hisui and found that Ingo was in a relationship with Volo, it would happen well past the dating stage of their relationship. They would have been together for a while at that point. He might not even find out about it from the two of them.
Emmet: I am Emmet! I am looking for my brother! Do you know where Ingo is?
Irida: Well, Volo's in town, so I imagine Ingo's likely staying in his tent tonight. They've been glued to each other every chance they get ever since they got together...
Emmet: What?
When Ingo and Emmet finally see each other, the flood of memories the appearance of his brother causes completely overwhelms Ingo. The twins spend the first hour or so reunited just half clung to one another, all but babbling about a lot of things that don't really make sense to anyone but them. All they're aware of is that this is Emmet, he says he is Ingo's brother, and he seems to have come from the same place that Ingo had.
Volo keeps his distance, just watching with a few members of the Pearl clan. He's simultaneously overjoyed for Ingo and the fact that he can finally remember who he was and where he came from, and absolutely terrified for what this might mean.
Volo feels like hiding, but before he can, Ingo and Emmet have calmed down a little, and Ingo is bringing Emmet over to him, seeming eager to introduce them to one another. He can see the warmth still in Ingo's eyes, and his heart beats a little faster. Ingo still loves him, Volo can see it, feel it.
So can Emmet. To him it's obvious just by the way Ingo is acting, the way he is looking at this stranger, Ingo's so head over heels for this man. His alarm bells are immediately blaring, but he does his very best to keep a friendly smile as Ingo introduces him to this man, Volo, his long term partner.
Volo is friendly enough, seems well composed, and clearly he’s been with Ingo for quite some time at this point if what he hears is true. There’s just something about him that feels off though, and with how messed up this whole situation has been for so long now, Emmet doesn’t feel like he can trust Volo as far as he can throw him.
But it’s hard to deny the way they look at each other...
After that Volo keeps a respectable distance while the two catch up, while Ingo does his very best to explain what exactly happened and how he ended up there in the first place to Emmet, and if he knows what Volo did caused his time traveling incident, then he would undoubtedly share that with him. Emmet is of course pissed off beyond all belief to find out that Volo was the cause of all this, whether he intended to pull Ingo into the past or not, and the fact that Ingo is with Volo absolutely baffles him.
Ingo tells him of how the two met, how much Volo helped him and was a friendly face in the beginning when it was the hardest for him to adjust. How they had become friends slowly, and that Volo had brought happiness into his life when he had been lost and confused and, though he wouldn’t admit it to pretty much anyone other than Emmet, honestly quite scared. Volo had helped him find his place there in Hisui, and make a home there.
Emmet listens to everything Ingo has to say, and it leaves him feeling terribly... conflicted. He’s never heard Ingo talk that way about anyone.
.
Later that evening Volo is approached by Emmet, and he’s immediately put on edge by the smiling man. He looks so much like Ingo, but there’s this palpable mood about him that puts Volo into fight-or-flight mode, but neither of those are valid options right then, so he just stays put as Emmet takes a seat beside him, away from the other villagers and prying ears. He has no idea what to expect, so he says nothing and gives Emmet a moment to figure out what he wants to say to him.
Finally, after what feels like an eternity to Volo, Emmet speaks up.
“I am Emmet. I know Ingo better than he knows himself in some ways. He’s very happy here.” Emmet says, his voice quiet, and he keeps his eyes lock ahead on the view as the sun sets ahead.
“...I would hope so, we’ve tried our best to make him as comfortable here as we can. The people of the Pearl Clan are kind, they’ve treated him well, I promise.” Volo starts slowly, hesitant, but it’s clear Emmet didn’t come here just to make small talk. “I feel a ‘but’ coming from you though.” He adds, and Emmet nods.
“Ingo doesn’t belong here.” Emmet said with a small shrug. “I came here to try and bring him home, to our time.”
That much had been obvious to Volo, but damn if it didn’t still hurt to actually hear it from Emmet’s mouth. He wanted to take Ingo away, back to a time that was likely so far away from where they were now. He couldn’t begin to imagine how long he would have to wait to potentially see Ingo again, because the idea of waiting even a short time seemed painful.
“But...” Emmet continued, pulling Volo from the painful thoughts slowly beginning to overwhelm him. “He is verrry happy here.... with you....I don’t understand, but I see that much.” He admitted, a low, bitter tone in his voice as he spoke. That fact didn’t make Emmet happy, he hated it, but he couldn’t deny it was true.
That brought a small smile to Volo’s face, and it hurt to hear.
“You’re right though, Emmet. He doesn’t belong here. Neither do you.” Volo says with a shaky sigh, despising the very words coming from his own lips. “I love him, and it’s my own damn selfishness that’s gotten him stuck here in Hisui in the first place. I can’t tell you how desperately I want to continue being selfish, to tell you that he’s here now, that he should stay with me and what we’ve built together. But I love him, and I can’t do that to him...”
“...It’s not up to either of us, in the end. The important thing is that now Ingo has his memories, and a choice on which life he wants to live.” Emmet says.
“...Right.”
Volo knew which way that choice would go.
#This got long#i hope this is coherent#It's kinda all over the place#small little mini fic there at the end??#not edited#crazytrainshipping#volo#Emmet#Ingo#Submas#vague waving of time traveling shenanigans#this is a hot mess
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.Irminsul stash --Traveler_Inventory
You and Scaramouche head over to ask the Traveler for some groceries
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Notes: SAGAU without cult shenanigans, mostly filler chapter. sorry for the long hiatus!
WC. 1.5k
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As much as you enjoyed spending your time running around Teyvat in-game, nothing quite prepares you for how vast it actually is.
Of course you’ve known that, logically speaking, it’s impossible to correctly scale an entire city using a limitation such as video game engines. You are still knocked completely off your feet at the sight of the sprawling verdant domes and alabaster walkways of Sumeru City.
You jog down from the Sanctuary doors and lean over the railing, eyes tracing the knotted branches of the Great Tree where they mesh flawlessly with the infrastructure of the city. The scale of things is easily dozens of times bigger than what is shown in-game, and despite the beautiful graphics it has, the game definitely cannot do justice to the sheer variety of buildings and people that make up Sumeru City. Unable to help yourself, you make wordless noises of awe as you take in the scenery.
“You’d think you’ve never seen a city before,” Scaramouche’s deadpan voice states from a few paces behind you, where he’s lazily following you down the ramp. You turn and face him, taking note of how he’d removed the colourful belts, ropes, and other identifying markers of his outfit, leaving only his bodysuit and black jinbei. He looks deeply annoyed by this state of undress, so you wisely choose not to mention it.
“I mean, I’ve never seen it like this before,” you agree, gesturing to the skyline with a wide sweep of your arm. “Like, I’ve seen some of it from a certain, uh, distance? But seeing it in person… Wow. Just doesn't compare.”
Scaramouche says nothing as he finally comes to a stop beside you, arms crossed as he surveys the view. After a few seconds he snorts derisively. “Looks the same as it always does, to me.” He scoffs. “Come on, we don’t have all day.”
You let him drag you down the rest of the ramps until you both meet the pale bricks of the main road. You follow him as he leads you, presumably, to wherever the Traveler is staying. Your eyes wander aimlessly, taking in the sights.
Something tugs at the gem of your shirt and you stop walking, surprised. When you look down, you see a small child with dirt stains on their hands and knees, and a streak of dirt across their face. The child beams up at you, holding out their closed fist and shaking it at you.
“Oh, hello. What’s up?” You ask, crouching down beside them. You hear a noise of disgust from Scaramouche, which you wave off in favor of giving the child a smile. “Anything I can help you with, buddy?”
The child shakes their fist again and you finally get the message. You present your own open hand, palm upturned, and the child drops whatever they’re holding into it. They scamper off quickly before you can say anything, so instead you peer at the tiny object in your hand.
It’s a small stone, with a very simplified carving on it. It appears to be some writing, and an angular leaf shape. The marks are gibberish to you, but surely it has significance of some kind, so you pocket it and stand back up. You give Scaramouche an apologetic grin, to which he simply rolls his eyes and continues on.
The walk is, understandably, much longer physically than it is in-game, and you find yourself a little winded by the time you’re anywhere near the Grand Bazaar. You do eventually get to a building that you (very, very vaguely) recognize as the inn the Traveler and Paimon stayed at during the Sabzeruz Festival arc, and you huff a sigh of relief that the long stroll is finally over. Before you can even approach or knock, you’re bowled over by a flying white mess of limbs.
“Creator! You’re here!” Paimon squeals in your ear as she tackles you to the best of her ability, and you wince as she excitedly hugs whatever part of you she can reach. “I’m so glad that stupid mean puppet didn't kill you yet!”
Scaramouche makes an offended noise at that last remark and flips Paimon the bird.
“Yeah, here I am!” You laugh after untangling her from around your head and pat her head as the Traveler joins her, looking a little worse for wear. Their outfit is a little stained in places, and bears some signs of scorch marks at the edges.
“Good timing, we just got back from our morning commissions,” they say with a wave. “I didn’t think you’d be out and about so soon, is there anything you need help with?”
“We want your ingredients supplies.” Scaramouche blurts out, interrupting any of your attempts to phrase it in a nicer way.
“All of them?!” Paimon gasps, absolutely devastated. You quickly step in before Scara can say anything else.
“No no! Just a little bit,” you reassure the sprite, then address the rest of your request to the Traveler with an affable shrug. “If you have anything to spare we’d really appreciate it. We don’t exactly have a lot of food in my teapot yet. Or, uhh… Any food, at all.”
“Oh!” The traveler smacks their forehead with the heel of their palm. “I didn’t think of that, Your Grace, I’m so sorry!”
“You really don’t have to call me that,” You laugh awkwardly at the title and volume at which the Traveler said it, conscious of the curious glances your little group has attracted. All around you you begin to hear indistinct murmuring, and you frantically hope they’re not talking about you. “And, uh, don’t worry about it! It’s a bit short notice, I get it.”
“As long as you leave some for us, it’s no problem!” Paimon says as she recovers from her shock. The Traveler turns to her with a sly grin.
“As long as they leave some for you, you mean?” They tease, to which Paimon splutters in protest. The Traveler gently pokes her cheek while she throws her tantrum.
“Can we take this inside?” Scaramouche asks waspishly, stopping the pair’s bickering for a moment. “Or literally anywhere else? Maybe you two enjoy being ogled like zoo animals, but I personally don’t appreciate being eyed up by the unwashed masses.”
“How rude! You haven’t learned a single thing, have you?!” Paimon scolds, turning her wrath on the harbinger.
“Actually, I agree,” you give a halting laugh as you step closer to the building. More and more eyes are turning toward you. You give the crowd an awkward wave, and suddenly the murmurs turn into a clamor as people begin to understand your identity.
“Oh, whoops,” the Traveler says, grabbing both your hand and Scaramouche’s bicep. Paimon quickly gets the idea and grabs onto the sleeve of their outfit. “Time to go!”
-----
You spiral back into existence high above the streets of Sumeru, close to the Akademia front doors, having been forcefully teleported as a group with the Traveler. They set you down gently, while simultaneously dropping Scaramouche like a sack of potatoes.
“Ow! Hey, watch it!”
“Are you alright, Your Grace?”
Three pairs of eyes watch as you dust yourself off and give a cheerful thumbs up. “All good!” You announce. “Let’s talk groceries, shall we?”
In the end, the Traveler decides to give you and Scaramouche three bags of dry products—things like fruits and veggies, rice, sugar, coffee beans, and cured meat—and promises to stop by your teapot sometime later in the week to deliver cold foods and more fresh produce.
“I’m sure some of this probably isn’t what you’re used to in your world,” the Traveler says apologetically, giving you a wry smile. “If you have any questions about it, I’m sure you can ask Wanderer. He’s been enrolled in some cooking classes for the past few semesters, so he’ll know what he’s doing.”
“Hah! As if.” Scaramouche snatches the last bag of groceries out of their hands with a sneer. “That weakling is going to be out running errands for Buer’s every whim. Do you really expect him to be around long enough to cook adequately? I’ll handle this.”
The Traveler only raises a single eyebrow at the declaration, then shrugs. “Suit yourself,” they chuckle. “Just don’t poison the Creator, I guess.”
“Can the Creator even get sick?” Paimon asks, hovering around you and inspecting you closely enough to make you ticklish. “I’m not sure gods are supposed to be able to get sick, you know!”
“Well, we don’t want to find out!”
“It’s fine, a little food poisoning won’t kill me,” you reassure the three of them, knowing you’ll be having a rough go at it for the foreseeable future given what you know about Scaramouche’s current cooking skills.
“So, what? None of you have any faith in me?” Scaramouche frowns and crosses his arms as best as he can around his grocery bags.
The response comes from the three of you at the same time.
“No.”
#genshin sagau#genshin isekai#sagau#self aware genshin#genshin self aware au#sagau x reader#genshin scaramouche#sagau scaramouche#scaramouche x reader#seabird.txt#glitch in irminsul au
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Waves, sounds, colors, and upcoming shenanigans!
This abstract piece is simply a vague and dreamy trip to the times my younger self would draw swirly shapes while learning how to grasp a pen. I wanted to capture the sensation of a song progressing and taking over the listener’s senses. I duplicated and manipulated the main wavy/swirly line to make it bolder and a bit more texturized.
Beyond that, there wasn’t much going on with this piece from last week. It felt good to draw. It also got me out of an incoming creativity block.
The colors from this piece will probably serve as a bouncing point for some future pieces to wrap up April while I plan for my spring/summer travels.
Starting with red and pink imperfect macaron shapes. (Try to see why it’s called [macaron murder attempt] ^^”)
#pink#red#macaron#wait a minute#wtf#abstract#colors#blue#orange#texture#crumbs#art thoughts#art inspiration
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Hopefully, this is not too vague... I was wondering if you could do fluff with Molly; his nickname for the reader is 'princess'. (I have had a rough couple weeks, found out some bad news regarding my dad's health, and am just wanting a little pick-me-up. You are literally my favorite writer of the lavender tiefling trio.)
A load of fluff with some hinted spice coming right up. Sorry about your dad, sweetie and hope things take a more positive turn. Either way, I hope this is the pick-me-up you're looking for. 😘
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You’re no stranger to waking up alone but never does it stop you from reaching out to the spot next to you. When you’re not met with a soft groan or arms wrapping around you, pulling you close begging for another five minutes of peace you know your lavender tiefling has begun his day before you. Rolling over onto your back you stretch taking in a deep breath. Time to get ready for the day, maybe find some breakfast? Breakfast sounds nice.
Mollymauk walks down the beaten path, a skip in his step and a small bouquet of wild roses clasped in his hand. He’s been up and about for a good hour now and like the good carney he is he’s working on quite the show in his mind; a show that requires the aid of a pretty face, charming smile and honeyed words he alone cannot provide. No he needs assistance and if he plans on getting this assistance he better work for it. Okay, maybe it’s not his plan. Maybe this is all just the result of a major fuck up on his end but still, it will make for some good fun… if all goes well… and you agree… The fact he gets to pamper you is a huge bonus. It’s been a while since he’s gotten the chance to show you just how much you mean to him.
Could Molly just ask for your help? Of course he could. And would you agree to join him on this endeavour? How could you refuse that devilishly handsome man? But where’s the fun in that. Let’s keep things interesting. Raise the stakes a little bit and see where his charm will get him. Or perhaps more, see how long it takes you to catch on tp the mess he made and pray to the Moonweaver you’ll be merciful. A test of his charm perhaps? Whatever excuse best justifies his actions and desires to spoil you rotten.
Stretching your arms with one final yawn you leave your tent. It’s too early to be up but you best keep an eye on your tiefling before he gets himself thrown into jail and you have to break him out… again. Wandering the camp the other members of the Fletching and Moondrop Carnival of Curiosities are waking up and going about their morning business at their own paces. You search for Molly but when you don’t find him you take to the road, following it towards the town. If he’s caused any trouble there you’d find out soon enough.
A lovely melody reaches Molly’s ears. He knows exactly who it belongs to and hears you before he sees you. All he needs to do is follow your song. Curving over the elevation of the path he spots you, lost in thought. Smile on his face he approaches you, flowers behind his back, and joins in whistling along to the melody. The way your eyes light up at the realisation of his presence are enough to make his heart melt knowing that one creature could look upon him with such unconditional love.
“Good morning, your royal highness.” Mollymauk takes a bow befitting of greeting royalty if not a little exaggerated and offers you the flowers. While he tries to keep his gaze on the ground you catch him peaking for your response as you take the flowers from his grasp breathing in their scent.
“Good morning to you too. And thank you, I should say? What’s the occasion?” You ask, not wanting to look a gift horse in the mouth but you can’t help feel a little suspicious at Molly’s very deliberate theatrics.
“Can a most loyal servant not present his beloved princess with flowers?” Molly rises and you get the slightest flash of fang from the smile he offers you.
“You know I am never one to deny your gifts and gestures of affection. What I’m referring to are your apparent needs for theatrics.” You speak with eloquence feeling yourself slipping into the same act he’s putting on. Dammit Mollymauk, for playing into your actor side and letting you slip up into the role he’s setting you up for. You know damn well he’s aware of what he’s doing.
“I am merely your humble servant. A humble servant with impeccable manners.” You snort as Molly offers you his arm. You lace yours through his and he begins leading you back the way you came.
“Impeccable manners you say? Because I recall not but two nights ago copious amounts of drinks, illegal gambling and theft were involved. And let’s not even mention the… desecration of the fountain within the gaze of the Platinum Dragon’s statue.”
“You say that as if those of noble birth do not partake in such activities, princess.” Molly counters. Touché. As you’re about to take a step to the right fork of the road Molly gently pulls you into the left direction instead. Confused you give him another suspicious look but he hushes you leading you down the path.
You find yourself retreating within your thoughts trying to pinpoint whatever shenanigans Molly is up to, planning or has been up to and why the need to be secretive instead of just telling you. Molly couldn’t hope for a better moment for you to stop your interrogation for he fears any more prodding around for answers and he will spill the beans and come clean. He can’t hide a single thing from you when you’re determined and he knows it.
The path slowly turns from trodden earth to more fine sand until it fades into the beach. The sound of waves and a seagull or two make for a pleasant setting. You see just far enough away from the shoreline as to not become victim to the tides, is a basket set on top of a blanket. Molly leads you over, guides you to sit upon the blanket gracefully before plopping down himself with much less show. Within the basket you spot several packed goods. Molly takes a few out and sets them down upon the blanket, unwrapping them as he goes. Some bread, a selection of fine jams, some cheese and delicious sugary sweet pastries.
“Okay, time to drop the act. While I appreciate all this, what did you do and how bad is it?” Molly takes out a bottle of what looks like expensive champagne along with two glasses and pours them, handing one to you.
“What makes you say that?” Molly takes a sip playing it cool and innocent.
“The top shelf bottle of champagne that is very much above our collective pay grades. Where did you even get this?” You take a sip. It’s not bad but not the greatest you’ve ever had either. A weird taste that can only be suitable for some upscale party or the nobility passes out to their guests to impress them simply because of the associated name and or price tag. What can you say? Rich people.
Molly hesitates but drops the innocent act. Best he comes clean now. You’ve caught on fully. Game over. But that definitely doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy this delicious breakfast with him, can you? Mollymauk takes a slice of the fresh bread, adding a nice layer of strawberry jam and takes a bite. At least the expensive jam was worth the money. Then again, it wasn’t his money that paid for it. Doesn’t mean it wasn’t money well spent.
“Now, I need you to promise me one thing first, love. Promise me you’ll let me tell you the whole thing before you judge my poor decision making.”
“I can do that.” You lean back and relax taking one of the pastries and taking a bite. Bearclaws with cinnamon? Delicious. Let’s hope for Molly’s sake it will keep your judgement somewhat at bay.
“When we were doing our usual rounds and you were off on your own I may or may not have let it slip to someone who happens to be part of the local nobility, several someones to be more precise, that you may or may not be a princess in hiding. And I may or may not have played a little bit too deeply into the story…”
“Okay, that’s not actually that bad?” Just wait for the second part. It gets worse. On second thought. He may be regretting telling you and not just convincing you to hide away for the next few days in town until you’re back on the road.
“And these poor suckers may have fact checked it finding some evidence of a princess from another continent who supposedly is traveling in disguise. They came to see the show and I want you to remember they left a most generous donation along with an invitation for you to attend a ball held in your honour.” Molly awaits your response as you stop mid bite.
“So they left an invitation for a princess? What about it? Just don’t show up and done.”
“That would work if the local lord did not gently hinted at exposing said princess and sending the guards to return them to their family as they ran away and the good favour of either side of that royal family should greatly benefit this town. I’m sorry, princess but your presence has been demanded.”
Okay… This is bad. You do not feel like being hunted by the guards and it’s not like you can make an inconspicuous escape now people might look at you as royalty. You set down the pastry clasp your hands together closing your eyes. You inhale and exhale deeply as Molly briefly fears for his life.
“You… really need to learn to hold that tongue of yours, Molly. It’s getting you in all sorts of trouble.” He bites back a comment about using that tongue of his for plenty of other good things. He’s having trouble reading where you stand on this all and doesn’t know wether you’re upset with him or disappointed or if he has to be the one running for his life soon.
“Let’s talk to Orna and get some appropriate dress for the occasion ready and wearable even if that means she’ll have to sew us into our garments.” You sigh.
“Us?” He questions and he does not like the mischievous look on your face. Whatever you’re plotting, he hopes you have mercy on his soul.
“Oh, I will not be attending on my own. No, a princess does not go anywhere without their loyal servant. A princess needs their escort to attend to their every whim.” You hold your chin high as you move to sitting on your knees pushing your palm flush against his chest exercising a little pressure to push him to lean back onto his elbows.
“Every whim you say?” Molly asks with a devilish grin as you swing one leg over him gently keeping him in place with your body and wrapping your arms around his neck playing with the short hairs at the back of his neck. Maybe the turnout isn’t so bad.
“‘Every whim you say, princess’.” You correct mimicking his grin and leaning in closer. Molly goes to close the distance but you raise your index finger to his chin. “Ah-ah.”
“May I not kiss you now, ‘princess’?” He mocks and you give him a stern look.
“It’s unbecoming of a mere servant to make such a bold move.” You pull on his hair when Molly tries to land a kiss on your cheek rather enjoying the turn of events this morning.
“Yet you appear to be the one in full control.”
“He knows his place. Good boy.” You praise with a pat to his cheek and you guide his face to yours, your lips meeting in a deep kiss, the food forgotten. Molly’s hands dance over from your hips to your lower back pulling you closer to him. You earn an unsatisfied grumble when you pull away a moment too soon.
“Must you torture me so with your touch, princess?” Molly laughs fully aware what direction this is going, raising a hand to caress your cheek fondly.
“Will you finally learn how to behave?” You trace the peacock feathers curving up the side of his neck and jaw. You don’t get a verbal reply but instead Molly’s lips find their way to your neck leaving a trail of kisses and little bites as he goes enough to make you giggle and squeal in surprise whenever he finds just the right spot, taking your mind far away from the details of the fuck up that lead you here in the first place. Not that you mind anymore. If this is the treatment you get for being dragged into one of Mollymauk’s lies gone south you’ll gladly take it a thousand times over.
#critical role x reader#critrole x reader#mighty nein x reader#mollymauk x reader#critical role#mighty nein
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MC Who Does Not Fear Death x OM! Demon Brothers
Or maiming, or apparently any other consequences. You’ve walked into this situation with absolutely no filter and no fear. Time to tear down every structure of Devildom society.
Lucifer
You look at him with a withering stare when he tries to intimidate you into behaving.
“I was summoned out of my trashy apartment to this place, where literally anyone could snap me like a twig on accident. I’m just working on the assumption that I’m already dead.”
He sternly looks at you. “You’re under my protection during your time here. No harm will come to you.”
You snort derisively, which visibly irritates him. “Don’t worry about it. I won’t come back to haunt you if it happens.”
As you continue through your life in Devildom he keeps calling you out for meddling and all that, like usual, and he HATES that you literally *do not care* when he threatens you.
Like HE knows that he wouldn’t hurt Diavolo’s transfer student but YOU are supposed to be AFRAID of him dammit.
His frustration at this ends up turning into a form of respect. You’re about the only person who will stand up to him, and tbh like you’re so fucking fragile but you’ll yell at him all day? That takes guts. Annoying guts. But you’ve got guts.
But also STOP IT. He has enough stress in his life and now he’s constantly terrified that you’ve decided it’s a great idea to adopt a baby balrog
Which you did once. He’s just afraid that “Flamin Hot Cheeto” is going to come back since you somehow managed to imprint on it.
despite the fact that the BABY could easily tear your arms off on accident
Not to mention he gets the flack for EVERY SINGLE ONE of these following stories. You stress him out so much. Please. Please, stop.
He’s almost to the point of begging. The Avatar of Pride is three steps away from either locking you away for the rest of the year or begging on his knees for you to calm down.
But you know you’d find a way out if he locked you up so no worries. It’ll be a good challenge.
Mammon
“Well you WON’T be dead because it’s my job to protect you! Are you doubting the Great Mammon?!”
Stupid human. Yeah, you’re fragile and weak, but that’s why HE’S your bodyguard now, and there’s no way in hell (lol) that he would let you die on his watch.
Lucifer would kill him.
You welcome the challenge, and he thinks it’s funny at first but quickly becomes a flustered mother hen.
“NO, we are NOT going out to Madam Scream’s at 3am! Do ya know what kinda CREEPS are out there at 3am?!”
And you sneak out the fucking window.
He has had more heart attacks in the past week than he has had in the last 100 years of life.
He starts agreeing to your ridiculous adventures JUST because then he can actually keep an eye on you.
He adores the chaos of the laugh that bursts from you every time you narrowly escape death.
He HATES how often you have to NARROWLY ESCAPE DEATH. So he will never tell you.
He almost doesn’t have time for his own shenanigans anymore, because all his time is taken up by trying to make sure you stay alive.
And you’ve figured out that if you turn *any* of your ideas into a money-making one, he will join you whole-heartedly.
So you bribe him because what’s money to you anymore anyway?
Leviathan
I mean he doesn’t leave his room much, so tbh he probably just gets texts from you that make him want to scream.
‘hey uh levi say if someone were to hypothetically be stuck in a succubus’ devil basement to become an unwilling sacrifice to asmo what would that person, hypothetically, do?’
‘probably die’ is usually all he sends back
You always come back, because he always sends a text to the other brothers. In that case Asmo came to rescue you himself and scold the succubus.
You become the friend that he makes funny throwing-shade reddit posts about. (Devvit? Devil reddit? Eh??)
‘Levi so this has nothing to do with anything but is there a cure for a dangerously potent ‘always win at rock-paper-scissors' curse? Asking for a friend’
‘Friend is being held hostage tho so maybe be quick about a response’
He didn’t even know that kind of curse existed. None of them did. What the fuck did you do.
How did you get taken captive by playing rock paper scissors?
He doesn’t know. Nobody does. He expects the play-by-play so he can recommend it as a new anime to his favorite producers.
Somehow your chaotic plans end up with stories almost as great as TSL.
Beelzebub
He physically carries you around.
He’s like “fuck this you can’t get into trouble if I’m holding you.”
If Beel’s on MC watching duty, he’s almost the only one who is successful, just because you physically cannot get away.
But at the same time, he is very easily bribed.
So yes, he’ll go to Madam Scream’s with you at 3am. Sounds like fun.
But he is very protective after losing someone he cares about (who you remind him of so much….) so he keeps you close when you’re out and about too.
If you start getting into a fight with some other demon he literally just takes the fight for you and wins with no trouble at all.
You like having Beel with you.
Especially finding street festivals! You’re in a whole new world and there’s a MILLION things to try. Beel is more than happy to try them with you.
But that leads to arguments about whether deadly creatures to humans are still deadly when dead.
“No, you can’t eat that it’s on fire. I know even small fires hurt humans. I’ll eat it for you.”
“That hot sauce makes every demon I know cry. You really shouldn’t buy a bottle. Please. No, don’t try it. No, that’s too much for one-- oh. Oh no.”
He forgives you as long as you don’t actually get hurt and you give him your leftovers.
Asmodeus
“If I get wrinkles because of you I promise you will never hear the end of it. I will curse you forever.”
He swears on every single one of his lovers that you have started giving him grey hairs.
GREY HAIRS, MC.
Why can’t you just settle down and let them all take care of you? You don’t have to prove anything to the other demons!
But you will. You’re living in Devildom now, and by everything unholy, you are going to live that life to its fullest extent.
He was thrilled at first when you were all for joining him at his nightclubs and parties. Now he hides every party’s date from you.
That time you almost threw yourself off a balcony to try and emulate a very drunk demon’s newest dance move.
“I need to stay TRENDY, Asmo!! I’ll be fine!!”
Ever since learning Demonus doesn’t affect humans you have challenged every single stuck-up tough boy to a drinking contest.
And every single time you win, Asmo has had to *narrowly* save you from being killed by said demon.
And you just say “he deserved it” every time.
And like, yeah okay, he probably did but YOU’RE NOT ALLOWED TO DIE.
Somehow, you manage to out-party Asmo.
dON’T TELL THE OTHERS but he lives for the times when you practically fall asleep on his shoulder while coming home from a rager. You may not get drunk, but when you’re sleepy, you’re so affectionate and something in his heart melts.
Satan
At first, Satan was all for the rebellious “life life with no restraints” thought process you explained to him.
I mean, he didn’t like the assumption that he and his brothers couldn’t control themselves to not accidentally kill you, but also… fair.
But he didn’t realize that this mindset followed through for EVERY demon in ANY place.
Including RAD, where old and wizened demons were *really* not used to being contradicted
Which led to you “accidentally insulting” your 5000 year old Human Studies professor by giving them a pop quiz on current memes (which they failed).
And left Satan as the one who had to make sure that said professor didn’t kill you.
And the thing is, this keeps happening.
You’ve written all over the school’s library books, pointing out every error.
You *continue* to argue with the demons who threaten to kill you when you say silly things like “No, Solomon did not learn his sorcery at Hogwarts because Hogwarts isn’t REAL.”
(Solomon, meanwhile, refutes you vehemently and seems to grow three inches taller every time you glare at him.)
Satan assures you that he values knowledge and truth and all that, but could you maybe find a less dangerous way to push it?
No can do, Satan, because you already had plans with Mammon to use a curse that writes the history of the actual Sorceric Academy that Solomon attended like 400 years all over the desks in Human Studies. It’s activated by anyone saying “Hogwarts”.
No, no, Satan, it’s brilliant, because you can’t do magic. It can’t be you who did it.
Satan, no don’t tell Lucifer.
I thought you hated him. Satan, wait.
You are the only person in the history of ever who convinces him to come to Lucifer for intervention. You wear that badge with pride and also deep, deep, bitter sadness.
Belphegor
Like, through the plot your willingness to be a thorn in anyone’s side just to get more information really works for Belphie.
He’s like all I gotta do is ask? Sweet. Yeah. Go, human.
But then when he’s all big and threatening and “im gonna kill you” and you just kind of look at him and nod like “yeah, this checks out.”
Frankly, that’s rude, MC.
And then he keeps threatening to kill you and it doesn’t even PHASE you like. You just keep listening to him rant and going “OH i think i get it now”
He liked that you were always looking for more information when he was the one pushing you around, but now?
No. Human, he is going to KILL you here, STOP ASKING QUESTIONS.
And then you do the time-travel bit, and see that he *literally has killed you in one timeline* and you just like
Shrug it off and keep talking about Lilith???????
Tbh what probably stopped him from doing it again is just that you’re fucking insane, MC
“MC, you literally just saw yourself dead in Mammon’s arms”
You wave your hand vaguely in his direction and say, “Yeah okay, but can we talk about the lack of communication in this household because it is tearing this family apart.”
What the fuck MC
When he’s back to normal, tbh he loves that side of you. He loves getting into shit when he’s not sleeping. He will 100% encourage you and be there to make sure that you *don’t* actually die again.
He’s the only one who doesn’t actually try to stop you. Who knew he was so into chaos.
But if you try to drag him to a plan when he should be sleeping he will be like Beel and literally just hold you down while he naps dammit. You brought this on yourself. He needs sleep.
#obey me#obey me!#obey me shitposts#obey me crack#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me beelzebub#obey me asmodeus#obey me satan#obey me belphegor#bast babbles#my writing#obey me headcanons#gender neutral mc#re-reading this makes me vibrate with the need to destroy things#tldr is that humans are fucked up
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To Honor, In Ink
Summary: While the chain is staying in the Karakara Bazaar, Wild heads off to Gerudo town for the day. He comes back sporting a new tattoo.
Author's Note: This was inspired by some people talking about the boys getting tattoos, specifically @gaylactic-fire. Really, only the second half of this is about tattoos... oh well
Read on AO3 Here
EDIT: You can see Wild’s Tattoo Here
EDIT 2: @bunnyambushed drew Wild's tattoo as well! Check it out here
~~~
The group had stumbled in the KaraKara Bazaar late last night. So late that it had nearly been morning. The entire group was exhausted. They had come across a particularly vicious pack of infected Keese a few hours before they arrived, and it hadn’t turned out well for them.
Keese, even the infected ones, weren't that difficult to take down. Unfortunately, there had been a lot of them. The swarm had been at least a hundred strong, and the old verbiage that there was strength in numbers had some truth to it. Especially when there were a couple bokoblins hidden in the swarm you didn't know about.
Sky had ended up with an arrow in his arm, courtesy of those same bokoblins. The rest of the group had been quick to take them down, and at that point, Time had given Warriors permission to use the fire rod that Legend had lent him. That had taken care of the keese nicely. Legend had to wonder why they hadn’t just done that in the first place.
He groaned, pushing himself up from his comfortable bed. Wild had taken one glance back at the exhausted group yesterday, and silently slid the extra rupees across the counter to pay for the extra soft beds. Usually, there would have been an argument about one of their own spending extra rupees on the others unnecessarily, but they were all too exhausted to care. Wind had already fallen asleep on Warriors back. Hyrule had been swaying side to side, and Sky was only staying upright because Twilight was supporting him.
No one had protested the thought of even more comfortable beds.
Legend had to admit, the extra soft beds did wonders. That had been perhaps one of the most satisfying nights of sleep he’s had since they had been at his own house in his own Hyrule. He had been sharing the bed with Four last night, which he had internally rejoiced at. Many of the others had a tendency to take up more than their share of the bed space. Four was the opposite, liking to curl into a little ball to sleep.
The small hero was already gone from the bed when Legend woke. In fact, most of the group was already gone from their beds. The only ones still in bed were Twilight, and Sky, who was awake and propped up in bed, reading a book. He’d likely been confined to bed rest by Hyrule, at least for the mourning.
They had managed to heal the worst of Sky’s injury, but it wasn’t perfect, and he would need extra rest to be up to traveling again.
Legend suspected that they would be staying in the Bazaar for a few days. Not that he was complaining. These beds were damn comfortable.
He stood, nodding at Sky as he put his outer tunic and boots back on. Clasping his belt around his waist, he stepped out into the morning sun.
The sun couldn’t have been up for an hour yet, but Legend could tell it was already shaping up to be a scorching hot day. As they were in the desert, that was to be expected. Legend predicted that most of them would be shedding their outer layers before noon.
He could see Four and Time over by some merchant stands that were set up in the shade of the tree. Four looked like he was haggling over some fruit, while Time was chatting with some other customers.
Wind was already in the water, swimming around like a dolphin in the shallow pool in the middle of the Bazaar. Warriors were nearby, keeping an eye on him, dipping his feet in the pool as well.
Legend looked around curiously, not spotting either the cook or the traveler anywhere. He swallowed the reflexive panic that rose in his throat. The champion could be reckless sometimes, but even he was not blasé enough to say someplace was safe when it wasn’t, and he had assured them last night that no one needed to stay awake to keep watch.
Anyways, none of the others were panicking at all, so it was probably fine.
And now that he was paying attention, Legend could hear Hyrule’s voice coming from around the corner of the building. As he rounded the corner to investigate, he found not only Hyrule, but also Wild, and a man wearing a frankly astoundingly large pack.
Hyrule was bartering with the man over what sounded to be the price of some bugs. Legend recalled that Wild had pointed this kind of bugs out to the group, and called them Cold Darners. Apparently, they were very useful in the making of heat-resistance potions.
Legend knew he was usually one of the only ones of the group that paid attention when Wild spouted off random bug facts. Not that the others were trying to be offensive, and Wild never seemed disappointed when no one but Legend was listening to his lecture about different types of fish or flowers
Legend figured that the information just went in one ear and out the other for the rest of the group. He, on the other hand, paid strict attention when Wild spoke about the natural flora and fauna of his Hyrule.
These portals were unreliable, and if Legend ever got stranded in Wild’s Hyrule without the champion, he wanted to be prepared. This was the kind of information that you wanted to absorb when you could. He knew from experience that he might end up thanking himself for it later.
Apparently, Hyrule had also been listening to what Wild had been saying yesterday, because he was now forking over enough rupees to buy enough of the bugs to make heat-resistance potions for all of them. Legend was impressed by his forethought. Legend himself probably wouldn’t have thought of potions until he himself was already halfway to sunburned.
As the merchant wandered away, Hyrule offered the bugs for Wild to store in his slate until they were ready to make the potions.
Wild waved him off, and the three started moving back to where the rest of the group, including a groggy-eyed Twilight, was gathered around the pool. “I actually have some things to do in town today. I have a few things I need to get, and I have an appointment I need to make. I had thought I would need to reschedule due to all the, well...” Here he gestured vaguely to the group, and the rest of them hummed in understanding. ”But, ehh, we're here, so might as well go…”
He trailed off, pulling out his slate, considering its contents. After a moment, he shrugged off his thoughts. “Anyways, you’ll want to keep a hold of those things yourself, Hyrule.”
Time spoke up from where he and Twilight had joined Warriors in dipping their feet in the pool. Twilight and Warriors had already shed their outer layers to try and combat the heat, and Time apparently hadn’t even bothered to put on his armor at all. “Do they have a leader you could ask about any sighting of black blooded monsters? You might as well ask while you’re there.”
Wild nodded, a smile overcoming his face. “Yeah! I’m on pretty good terms with the Chieftess, Riju. We go sand seal racing sometimes.”
“Well,” Time began, “take one of the others, and ask her, and then do what you need to after.”
“Ahh,” Wild winced. “I’m probably going to take a while, and you guys won’t be able to get in, remember? Women only.”
“So how do you get in?” Warriors asked, brow quirked.
Wild snorted at that. “You’ve already gotten a hint, though. It shouldn’t be that hard for eight heroes of courage to figure it out, should it?”
“Hold on,” Warriors protested, ”since when have we gotten a hint?”
That actually got a laugh out of Wild. “You’ve held what I’ve used in your hands before, Wars. Figure it out.”
With that, he tapped on his slate, dissipating in strands of blue light before Warriors could protest.
~~~
Wild was gone for most of the rest of the day. Hyrule sat down shortly after he departed, and made the heat-resistance potions, which everyone had been thankful for.
Legend had been right in thinking it would be a hot day. The Gerudo scattered around the plaza seemed unaffected, but all the Hylians were sweating buckets. By mid-day, everyone had shed their outer tunics. Those of them who were able to tan, and didn’t burn after an hour in the sun even took off their under-tunics to try and cool off that little bit more. Legend himself would rather not look like a cooked lobster, so he had kept his tunic on.
Many of the younger heroes joined Wind in the pool, as well as Twilight. (Legend sighed internally when he saw that, and braced himself for the inn to smell like wet dog that night.)
Wild was gone for both lunch and supper, and the only one who had been willing to cook was Hyrule, they had bought some fruit and pre-cooked meat from the stands, and made a meal out of that.
It had been decent, but not as good as what they had seen the champion cook before. Legend had particularly enjoyed the bananas, but when he went back to buy a few more, the seller had glared at him suspiciously. Eyeing the way she was fingering her blade, Legend decided to go with another slice of hydromelon instead. The seller calmed down after that.
Warriors sat around for a good hour or two, trying to figure out how exactly the champion was getting into town. Legend didn’t really care one way or the other, but the puzzle of what he was using to get into town was good, and Legend couldn’t resist a good puzzle. He had run through all the weapons he had seen Wild use, and the items he had in that slate of his but he couldn’t come up with anything. The paraglider, maybe, but Legend didn’t think Warriors had ever held that. Warriors wasn’t able to think of anything either, by his dejected expression.
After the worst heat of the day was over, Warriors convinced Wind and Hyrule to come try sneaking into town with him. Legend tagged along, eager to see what shenanigans the three would get into. The look Time sent him told Legend that he would also be bailing them out of jail if they got in any trouble.
They didn’t have any luck, and were back at the bazaar in time for dinner, Legend’s wallet thankfully as full as it had been when they left.
~~~
Wild only showed up after dinner was over. The sun had already set when he finally made it back. Legend wondered what had taken him so long. He had mentioned an appointment, but hadn’t specified, so the group was left in the dark.
Wild strolled leisurely into camp, and plopped himself down at their fire. Legend could see, even in the dark, that he had switched out of his normal clothing into something that looked much more appropriate for the heat, if a little revealing. He barely wore anything except a pair of pants and a pauldron on his shoulder.
“You took a long time,” Twilight noted, “run into any trouble?”
“Nah,” Wild shook his head, then changed the subject. “I didn’t see any of you in town. Couldn’t figure it out?” He shot a smirk at Warriors, who had to shake his head in defeat.
“He tried sneaking over the walls plenty of times,” Legend supplied, smirking. “They eventually placed a guard on him, so he had to give up.”
Wild gave a grin at the mental image of Warriors sulking while under the strict gaze of one of the gate guards. “I could have told you that. I can’t tell you the number of times I got thrown back over the wall before I figured it out.” Legend could have told Warriors that too. He had, in fact, but the captain had seemingly taken that as a challenge. Legend hadn’t minded, as it was amusing to watch.
Eventually, he had gotten bored, though, and had struck up a conversation with the guards, hoping to wrangle some information out of them. Unfortunately, the guards did not; have anything to tell him. They had just insisted that there were no exceptions to the rule, not even the Hero of Hyrule. They insisted that they hadn’t even seen the man in a few weeks.
When he told Wild this, he unexpectedly chuckled, waving him off. “Yeah, they would say that, wouldn't they? They definitely saw me, they just wouldn’t have told you. Besides, where else could I have gotten this done? The artist there is the best one I know.” He stood, turning to display his bare back, and the fresh tattoo that was inked there.
Wind was the first up, nearly bouncing in excitement. “Wow! Did it hurt?”
Wild laughed “Yeah, getting a tattoo hurts. Thankfully I don't have any scars where it’s placed, so it was easier for the artist, and less painful for me.”
The rest of the group slowly gathered around to admire the design. It was placed along the upper half of his spine, between his shoulder blades. It was relatively simple, as it would have to be to get it done in one day. Four colored spheres in a neat row, with an animal within each one. The top one was blue, with an elephant. Then there was a red one with a lizard, a green one with a bird, and the last yellow with a camel. Vines with blue flowers that Legend had heard Wild call Silent Princesses wrapped around the outside of the design. It was simple but elegant.
“I got it in memory of the champions,” Wild explained unnecessarily. They all knew the tale of the other champions and their divine beasts. The symbolism was obvious. “The flowers are Zelda’s favorite, but they're also, uh, common symbols of mourning....” Here, he trailed off, looking like he was lost in memories. Legend cringed.
Ugh, feelings.
Now Wild was upset. Legend never knew how to fix these types of situations, but as the silence dragged on with none of the others saying anything, Legend drew himself up to interject. None of the Links were particularly good with words, or subtle, and even those who were the best with words, like Warriors or Twilight, could stick their foot in their mouth easily.
This meant that they, more often than not, choose to leave the talking to someone else. Unfortunately, there was no one else this time, and one of them would need to break the awkward silence that was no doubt only making the champion feel worse.
“Wow!” Wind, bless his good timing, chimed in before anyone could say anything. “It looks so cool! I want a tattoo too. Granny said I could get on when I turned sixteen, but she wouldn’t know. Will you take me? Please!”
Wild, thankfully looking less uncomfortable, smiled at the sailor. “I don’t think that you’d have the time. I talked to the chieftess while I was there, and got some information about increased Yiga attacks. As long as Sky is feeling better, we’ll probably leave tomorrow.” When Wind sighed in disappointment, Wild pointed out “And besides, you weren't able to make it into the town anyway, and the tattoo artist doesn't do out-of-town appointments.”
“Oh, right…” Wind trailed off, obviously thinking of other places he could possibly fulfill his goal of getting ink injected into his skin.
Personally, Legend could see the appeal in getting inked. Wild’s designs were beautiful, and had significant meaning to him. Legend thought he might not mind having a small hibiscus flower tattooed somewhere.
However, he couldn’t imagine why anyone would willingly put themselves through the pain of getting a small needle jammed into them hundreds of times. It seemed like an unnecessary pain to go through, and Legend wasn’t one to intentionally put himself in pain.
When he said such out loud, Warriors laughed. “What, are you too tender-skinned for that?”
Legend scoffed. “Well, I don’t see you with any tattoos either, pretty boy.”
“I do have some,” Warriors smirked. “Just not where you can see. Army regulations.” He stood, stripping off his tunic. Across his chest, detailed in a bright gold that glimmered in the firelight, was the crest of Hyrule. On his back was a depiction of the master sword in black and white along his spine.
“That\’s impressive work,” Sky hummed. “Not many people get tattoos in Skyloft. The rocks we need to make the ink with are rare, so people don’t usually bother. Only a couple of people actually know how to tattoo.”
“That makes sense,” Warriors said, shrugging his shirt back on. “I guess rocks are hard to come by on a floating island. They're a finite resource.”
Wild nodded. “The tattoo artist I went to requires you to bring the materials that she needs with you. She‘s good enough that people come from all over to get tattooed there, and she can demand you bring your own materials. Mostly a lot of charcoal, but also some plants and other kinds of rocks to make the ink colored.”
Hyrule piped up from where he was sitting. “Do you have any, Sky? Being a chosen hero of Hylia seems like it would be special enough to warrant a tattoo.”
Sky nodded, but didn’t elaborate, and the rest of them left it be. When someone in the group didn’t choose to elaborate on something, the rest of them knew better than to push them. They had learned that lesson the hard way. Even something as innocent as a tattoo could have bad memories attached to it for the heroes.
“What about you two?” Wind questioned, gesturing towards Twilight and Time. “You guys both have tattoos, obviously.”
Time replied with a completely straight face, staring at Wind. “These aren't tattoos. They’re scars, a gift from a demon I… encountered.” He said it with such a blank face that Legend could see even Twilight couldn't tell if he was being serious.
“Ah.” Wind said, squinting at the old man suspiciously, before he seemingly decided that it wasn't worth asking more questions. He turned to Twilight. “What about you? Your tattoos actually kind of look like the markings on Wolfie. He’s your pet, right? Did you get them in honor of him?”
Legend couldn’t help but snicker as he watched Twilight trying to sputter out an answer to that.
Four took pity on Twilight, and started to show off his own tattoos to change the topic of conversation- a cluster of four swords surrounding his right forearm. Each had a different color gemstone in its hilt, Green, Blue, Purple, and Red.
As the conversation moved on, visions of small hibiscus tattoos floated in the back of his mind. Maybe getting one wouldn’t be so bad, in an inconspicuous place.
Putting yourself in pain on purpose did sound stupid. But Legend had done a lot of stupid things in the past. Getting a tattoo in memory of someone, to honor them, didn’t sound like it would even begin to stack up against the other idiotic things he’s done.
And besides, he’d been in plenty of pain before. He was sure he could handle a needle, right?
#mint’s writing#my writing#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu fanficiton#lu wild#lu legend#lu warriors#lu time#lu twilight#lu wind#lu hyrule#lu sky#lu four#lu marin#lu#tattoos
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Love Through the Ages (Damian Wayne)
Summary: Love like baggage needs to be declared.
a/n: This is part one of a series that is a fic rec list disguised as a fic. For these fics, most of the characters will be speaking different languages, so unless specified otherwise assume that the characters are speaking in the first language I mention. They’re all vampires with centuries under their belt. Why wouldn’t I make them all polyglots. Also, thank you to the proof reading gang for putting up with my shenanigans. I will have links to the fics I recommend in the fic itself.
Warnings: Everyone is dramatic.
Masterlist
Series Masterlist.
You wait by the platform, tapping your feet to the rhythm of the Little Colonel Bojangles Dance. It's been so long since you've seen the movie but your feet can still remember the steps- much to Damian's annoyance. Your feet patter against the pavement, wet from the spring rain, in a soft rhythm that kept your excitement at bay.
You wave to the approaching cab. The passenger of the cab looks away from you, pressing his mouth into the heel of his hand as his eyes stare out into oblivion. Your mouth quirks at the petulant gesture. You haven't seen each other in two decades and he's still mad about... what was it again? You'll find out soon enough.
The cab stops in front of you.
You bow your head, resting your weight on your umbrella. You grin at his seated form postured perfectly with an ease of a man born with the world in his pocket. He's dressed in a black suit and a dark coat that looked far too thick for spring.
"Long time, no see, little prince." You say in a dialect of Spanish too old for the young cab driver to recognize.
Damian raises his brow, articulating his annoyance. It takes you a moment to realize that it was with the accent you'd chosen. It was inelegant and curt and it mangled the curve of the syllables far too easily. In short, it was your favorite dialect. Rolling your eyes, you try again. This time with a softer, smoother dialect much more modern but still old enough that you could talk freely without worrying about eavesdroppers.
Damian cracks a smile at you. It was wry but soft in the way Damian always was. Your own exasperated smile softens as you look at his eyes, their ever-changing lushness. It's been too long.
You open the door. Damian eases out of the cab handing the cabby what you quietly hope was the correct amount.
But considering the wide-eyed glee on the cabbies face, you can guess that twenty years has done nothing for Damian's spending habits. That was if the tailored suit wasn't a dead giveaway.
You look him over whistling," whose funeral are you going to after the museum?"
"Yours if we're on schedule." Damian deadpans looking at his watch.
You snort, sounding like a piglet in mud. Adoration flickers in Damian's eyes but you miss it as you throw your head back.
"Who has a schedule on vacation."
"People who don't like wasting time."
"That's what a vacation is for."
Damian makes an annoyed noise in the back of his throat and you shake your head. Damian wraps his arm around your shoulders. You happily press into his side, reveling in the intimacy of the action.
Damian had been telling you a story in rapid Arabic, the only words you understood were 'Jon' and 'moron', when you pause in front of a pair of paintings. The painting on the left was of Damian, his form drawn in harsh, messy angles. He's hunched over his sketchbook, candlelight glowing softly by his side makes his copper skin and forest green eyes breathtaking. The subject is out of view. The other was a portrait of you dozing off on a workshop table, your flaws lovingly rendered in gentle brush strokes. By contrast, your portrait was lit by the summer sun. Only Damian could make your features look this beautiful.
Vaguely, you remember this.
You remember it only for the countless times it had happened.
"They say that the one on the left is the painter sketching the portrait on the right and that the portrait on the right is of his lover." You say airily. Damian, not one to disappoint, gives you an unreadable look.
Your stomach turns. You drop the subject. Wordlessly, you two make your way to the exhibit.
"Love through the Ages?" Damian asks, crossing his arms.
"Shockingly love wasn't invented by Stephenie Meyer." You say. Damian wrinkles his nose at you and you cover your mouth to hide the scraggly smile spreading across your lips.
"I'm shocked your paintings didn't make it in."
He looks down at you huffing, "it's only speculation."
You're heart twinges at that. You press a frown to your hand.
"It'll be fun, Dami. I promise. Pleeeeeease."
Damian's stern look gives way to a weary half-smile as he capitulates to you.
"I promise it will only be half as nauseating as Dick's attempts to do family bonding."
"Tt, it would take a miracle to surpass that."
You grin. "Perish the thought."
"They say this stardust came from star-crossed lovers as they traveled through space. Oh and this one is a statue gifted by Persephone to Hades."
You drag Damian all over the exhibit. Pointing to specific exhibits with enthusiasm. He has to admit. It's infectious. Then again, Damian's never been able to resist anything about you. This amount of enthusiasm for something so frivolous would have been obnoxious on anyone else but because it's you, Damian's found himself utterly enamored by it.
"This one," You say, pointing to a series of paintings. They were all beautiful, painted in bold colors. The torrent of emotions radiating off of the canvas. "This one was made by an artist torn between three loves."
"Three? She must have been an exceptional artist."
"Probably was but her name was lost." You sigh.
"She’s got exceptional brushwork." Damian hums.
You squint at it. You would think after hundreds of years you would be able to discern that.
"And over there! Look at those postcards!" You say, pointing the three postcards pinned to a cloth in a glass case. One card showed the northern lights, another with a picture of a thick rainforest, another with a large cave, and another with the pantheon.
"They're not well preserved are they." Damian comments, scrutinizing the postcards and noting all the imperfections, the little cracks and tears, the water stains, and odd splotches of dirt.
You roll your eyes, curling your fingers around his arm. "That's cus Hermes supposedly brought them everywhere while he searched for his lost love."
"Quite the romantic. Do you know all the artifacts?"
"Yup."
"I see..." Damian drawls. "Then why are we here then?" Damian winces at how harsh and impatient he sounds.
"Cus Jon said I needed an excuse to get you here and viola. It worked. I knew you'd cross the sea for a rare exhibit."
I would cross the sea for you, no matter how many times, Damian thinks.
"What about this?" Damian points to a golden coin, shaking his thoughts away.
You lean back, side-eyeing him. "Care to guess?" His handsome features furrow as he thinks.
"I think it’s a coin used to pay Charon." He says finally.
You frown. "Good guess." A smug grin curls on his lips. You stick your tongue out at him.
"It’s an old Greek coin to pay the travel into the underworld."
"Why would they want to travel to the underworld?" It's Damian's turn to frown.
"Yanno for someone who's so smart. You're asking the dumbest questions."
"It's a reasonable question." He asserts, his tone oddly defensive.
"Most people can't bear to be apart from their beloved."
Damian hums noncommittally. He understands that. he understands that all too well.
"Like you and Jon." You say grinning.
Damian glares at you. No real anger behind it.
"You two bicker like an old married couple." You laugh.
"So do we." Damian says flatly, stepping closer to you and closing the gap between the two of you. He's looking at you so intensely that your skin sets itself on fire.
"I often think about burying you under the kitchen patio too." Damian sneers, with a sharp grin.
You snap out of your daze. Leaning in close and smiling, your hot breath fan against Damian's face. "Will you do it affectionately?"
The moment hangs still in the air. If you could capture it in amber, you would.
"Huh? This is new." You say, looking down at the glass case.
"How many times have you seen this exhibit?"
You preemptively shoot him an accusatory look. "What are you?"
"Concerned."
"Pfff!"
You lean down reading the plate. "Says here it's a letter from the late 1700s and early 1800s. An unsent letter to lost love."
"Sounds cliched." Damian says, leaning down next to you.
"You've said that about everything."
You feel Damian stiffen beside you. You glance at him. He looks mortified. Your eyes follow his and land on the letter. The calligraphy looks familiar but you can't think of where you've seen the scrawl.
Damian tugs at your shoulder.
"(Y/n), let's go."
You shrug him off.
"(Y/n), let’s go." He repeats with increased urgency.
You shove your palm to his face.
Damian wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest. You flail and kick out childishly.
“Damian Al Ghul Wayne, I will gnaw your arm off.” You hiss but he doesn’t let go. In a last ditch effort to break free of his hold, you wriggle out of your coat. Landing on your ass, you scramble for the glass case.
My beloved (Y/n),
Finding the words to tell you how I feel about you is not an easy feat. I feel as though Ibn Hazm himself would struggle to compose poems to express my feelings for you even then they would be inadequate.
Whilst we are surrounded by such death and misery, here in London, I want you to know that during these dark times, it is you that keeps me a light. It is you that leads me through the void and guides me.
I think I’ve always loved you from the very first moment I laid eyes on your beautiful lopsided smile. Yes. Your real smile. The one only a handful of people will ever see. I have been lucky enough to see it every day.
As time passed, I fell more and more in love with you. You have seen all of me. You have seen the monster within me and yet you still stand by my side. Never faulting in your stance.
I wish I had the strength to tell you this, face to face. I wish I could look into your eyes and whisper words of love my immortal beloved.
With Love,
Damian
You stare at the letter uncomprehending. Realization slides off of you like rain off a tin roof. You read it over and over again until each syllable is embedded in your mind. “Damian, what the actual fuck?!”
“I-”
“You dork!”
Damian clams up unable to think of a response. Ok, no. He had a number of responses but none of them were appropriate or witty. He searches your features but the only thing he can make out is shock.
“(Y/n), I was-”
You press your hand to the glass. “How come you never sent me this?”
“The French Revolution.”
“Which one?”
He crosses his arms raising a brow.
“Ok, nevermind. But still, it’s been 200 years.”
“A lot has happened in 200 years.”
“A lot has happened in 200 years.” You repeat mockingly.
Damian pinches your cheeks in retaliation.
“I was pinning for more than 200 hundred years!” You protest.
“So was I!” Damian says, releasing your cheek.
“Then why didn’t you say anything?”
“Why didn’t you?” Damian asks, accusing and curt. You flinch, something vile and caustic rising in your stomach. Damian sees it and grips your hand as you fall away from him. He just got you back. “(Y/n)....”
The fear and hurt melt off of your face. “I thought… I just thought you’d...” You ball your fists in frustration, not quite grasping the right words. But Damian already knows what you’re thinking. He’s seen that look in your face. He’s seen it every time you look at the mirror. It was infuriating to watch you like this. Why couldn’t you see just how perfect you are?
Damian pulls you into a hug, burying your face into his chest and resting his chin on top of your head.
“You are infuriating.” He mumbles into your hair.
“And you’re rude.” You mumble back.
“Yet here you are 400 years later.” He laughs softly.
You two stand in silence for a long moment. With Damian, silence itself was a language. It was one you’d grown fluent in. An unspoken conversation of confirmations and reassurances.
He releases you but holds your hand in his. It feels warm. You shiver and Damian smiles at you, smooshing your coat into your face. Both of you can’t help but laugh.
You step closer to the glass case, pulling him along. Damian follows without resistance, only lacing his fingers into yours. You both stare at the page. His proclamation of love carefully preserved for all to see. You take your phone out to take a picture. Damian shoots you a glare.
“You’re not sending that to Jon.”
“Tim then.”
“No.”
“Fine, for myself then.” You pause seeing the confusion on his face. “In case, you know...” You say waving your hand.
Damian tilts your chin up. “Beloved, I’m not going anywhere.”
Your chest flutters. After centuries of inaction, you can feel your heartbeat.
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📓? Hope you're doing well!! :)
<3 I am! I hope you are too.
It's so hard to choose just one. XD
So, I'm a total sucker for time travel and interplanar shenanigans, which is very relevant. I am also a big DnD enthusiast, which is... slightly relevant.
The premise centers around Jaskier, a modern day college student, who picks up a lute from an antique shop on a whim. I haven't decided if he is responsible for what happens (in vaguely DnD bard fashion) or if the lute itself is magical.
Meanwhile, in another time and place, Geralt is fighting a dangerous sorcerer. They're not usually his brand of monster, but someone's gotta do it. Things aren't looking good for our witcher, though.
Back in the modern world, Jaskier has tuned his lute and is plucking out a tune for the first time. He expects music. What he does not expect is for said music to summon some guy dressed up for a ren faire right in the middle of his bedroom floor.
What follows is a very strange and confusing time for everyone. There's no telling what will happen to the Continent without Geralt there, so obviously he would prefer to go home. Jaskier has no idea how Geralt ended up in his apartment in the first place, and less of an idea about how to send him back. So, while they figure it out, Jaskier gets an unsolicited roommate and Geralt gets an unsolicited introduction to life in the modern world.
Jaskier grasps the concept of what he did more then the execution, so his first successful attempt just gets them more lost, bouncing between universes until they find the right one. They stop the sorcerer (well, Geralt does. Jaskier waves his metaphorical pom poms about it, though), and then they have to confront the inevitable "what now?"
I haven't decided whether Jaskier decides he's having fun being a magical-ish bard on the Continent and stays or if Geralt decides maybe running water and electricity have their selling points and goes, but obviously they end up together. <3
Send a “📓” and I'll explain the plot of a fic I haven't written yet. (Feel free to specify a fandom)
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Sonic Archie character :/
So I made this redesign for Lien-Da from the Archie Comics (Pre-Super Genesis Wave) and here:
I got rid of the hair because I just think it's a bit weird to give the quilled species hair?? like just do some spiked hair-esque quills instead. And I redesigned her because I have this sonic AU idea. And it's honestly just my ideas jammed into one. Like missing dread spot? Zero clue why she has a cyber one, but here? w a r c r i m e s :)
So since I vaguely know there may or may not be some future time travel shenanigans in her story, I decided to make it past time bullshit instead.
In the Echidna tribe's past, Pachacamac is shown to be quite the conqueror, and the Echidna's are quite powerful. I was thinking, y'know, that'd be kind of hard to do all on his own leading all of it. So, I've turned Lien-Da in to some sort of second in command to Pachacamac when he was younger.
I'd imagine they'd get on eachothers nerves, and back with Pachacamac being younger, maybe he wasn't so power hungry? Like not at a sympathizable level, but one to justify the dynamic between the two.
One of the places that the tribe may have had their interest was little planet. With the whole being atop of a lake for one month of a year and magical (time traveling) stones, Pachacamac is cautious because their abilities are unknown to the tribe.
One time Lien-Da and maybe Pachacamac go to the planet to scout it. I'm not sure how exactly they get on the planet but they manage. Lien-Da has an encounter with one of the time stones, which may cause a bit of an argument depending on if Pachacamac is there; in which she goes for the stone and causes herself to be transported through time to the present day.
Since Lien-Da is now in the future/present, the master emerald senses this, and alerts knuckles to her. He decides to quickly check out the spot the emerald is telling him to go to (don't know how, maybe he's trying to learn how to chaos control since he's literally a guardian of one of the biggest sources of chaos energy??) So they meet and it goes from there.
That's kinda of my concept for Lien-Da. Later she dupes knuckles and goes off on her own, using a chaos emerald and becoming a antagonist to some sonic characters. There's probably an inevitable eggman team up or something of that caliber. But that's the jist of it.
#Sonic#digital art#drawing#art#digital drawing#fanart#sth#sketch#sketches#sonic the hedgehog#Lien-Da#Sonic Archie#TIme Travel#AU#Sonic AU#sonic fanart#knuckles the echidna#Pachacamac the Echidna#Pachacamac#Plot#AAAAA Lien-Da out here looking like:#:P
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Hello there! Idk if you’re still taking requests, so if you aren’t, ignore this! But I was wondering if you could write Diego x reader, where she meets his siblings for the first time, and at first it’s kinda awkward, but then they get more comfortable and maybe just like fluff after when they get back home? It might be totally stupid but idk. I love your writing!💕💕
A/N: Babe, it’s totally not stupid at all. Meeting the family shenanigans is basically the perfect trope for this show.
Sort of accidentally ended up a sequel to this fic, so I ran with it.
Word Count: 1678
Content Warnings: Season 2 spoilers
“Are you sure you want to do this, Y/N?” Diego asked, gripping your hand tightly as the two of you walked toward the restaurant. “It’s not too late for us to just leave.”
“Diego Hargreeves, if I didn’t know any better I’d say you didn’t want me to meet your family,” you teased, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s one dinner, it’ll be okay.”
“You say that now,” he muttered and you rolled your eyes affectionately in response before pulling open the door and walking inside.
When you gave your names to the hostess, she smiled brightly and told you that the rest of your party was already waiting for you, before leading you to a large table in a private room off the main dining area. Four pairs of eyes turned to you appraisingly. You swallowed nervously and put on a smile of you own.
“Hi everyone, sorry we’re late,” you said, taking one of the two empty seats, somewhat awkwardly as Diego still refused to let go of your hand. “Someone didn’t believe me that traffic was going to be a nightmare on a Friday night.”
One of the women at the table, who you vaguely recognized from a cheesy romance playing on late-night cable and therefore deduced was Allison smiled in a way that felt indulgent and false; it didn’t quite reach her eyes; it was rehearsed.
“Oh he never listens to anybody, don’t take it personally, Y/N,” the smaller of the two men said, stretching across the table and offering you a broad grin and a hand with the word hello tattooed on it. “I’m Klaus, and you’re the gorgeous creature my brother’s decided to shack up with, huh?”
You couldn’t help but giggle at his greeting, shaking his hand politely while Diego glared. “Nice to meet you Klaus,” you said with a smile.
“You know, I already like you better than his last two girlfriends. You haven’t tried to arrest or kill me!”
“Sorry what? Is that a joke?” you frowned in confusion as you let go of his hand and leaned back, glancing over at Diego to see his tight jaw and stony face, clear indications that he was upset.
You hand sought his under the table and you gave it a gentle squeeze, drawing his gaze to you and smiling at him.
‘It’s all good, relax,’ you mouthed.
“No I’m deadly serious,” Klaus continued. “For a while he was with this lady cop on-again/off-again style and she’d arrest me for drugs when she caught me around. Until she was tragically murdered by time-travelling assassins who kidnapped me looking for Five. Then while we were in the 60s, he fell for this girl from the nuthouse who turned out to be a plant and totally tried to kill us!” He gave a pained little chuckle, as if to say, ‘can you believe that?’
You stared at him, open-mouthed and aghast.
“Ignore Klaus, he’s never known when to shut up a day in his life,” the woman you had first noticed said. “I’m Allison.”
Klaus shot her a look that somehow combined a pout and a glare, but fell silent. You felt some of the tension sink out of Diego beside you, though he still didn’t seem comfortable. You smiled at her.
“It’s really nice to meet you,” you said, still trying to shake off the information Klaus had given (which seemed to line up with what the small, angry brother who was oddly not at dinner had said, and was far too much to actually process at the moment).
You turned to the two who hadn’t yet spoken. “So you must be Luther and Vanya?”
The man nodded, shifting in his seat and giving you an awkward little wave. The other woman glowered at you and said nothing. You frowned, wondering what you had done to earn her ire already.
Allison cleared her throat. “We ordered some bruschetta and sangria for the table before you arrived.”
The rest of dinner passed in much the same way as those first moments: Luther was mostly silent and clearly uncomfortable (whether with your presence or very fact of being out in public seemed unclear) but he started to relax and warm up as the evening went on, even once or twice sharing a stiff joke; Vanya was cold, barely responsive to your attempts to engage with her; Allison tried to play the hostess and keep topics light and small-talk-esque, breaking long silences with new conversations, obviously trying her best but ultimately resulting in a stilted performance; Klaus blurted out evidently whatever thoughts passed through his mind, usually bizarre and outlandish, sometimes profound and deeply sad. It was like none of them knew how to be normal people or have dinner with their sibling’s significant other, or an average conversation and you couldn’t help but feel oddly warmed by that, but the fact that they were so…human.
You did your best to keep up with all of them, appreciating Allison’s best efforts, laughing at some of Klaus’s jokes or countering his philosophical points, trying not to call too much attention to Luther or make him feel put on the spot. Diego felt his heart swell with pride at how well you did, and how you took everything in stride, even as the minutes seemed to drag on and he started to fear that dinner would never end.
The only thing that kept rankling at you was Vanya’s attitude, so when she got up to go to the bathroom, you excused yourself as well, cornering her in the hall of the restaurant.
“Hey, no offense, but what the hell is your problem with me?” you asked, tilting your head to one side, more curiosity than animosity in your tone.
She rolled her eyes, trying to push past you, but you resolutely blocked her path.
“I know I’m dating Diego and there’s like a whole weird history there or whatever, but don’t I at least deserve a chance before you decide to treat me like the devil?”
She sighed, shaking her head. “It’s not that.”
“Then what is it?”
“You seem nice, and you’re…normal. Our family doesn’t do well with that,” she explained, folding her arms over her chest. “I don’t want to do the whole friendly, welcome to the family or whatever bullshit. Cus you’re either going to turn out not actually normal and screw us over, or you’re going to turn out actually normal and get hurt or bail before you do.”
You stared at her for a long, silent moment.
“I’m not going anywhere. I love Diego, and I think for all that they’re weird, I like your family a lot.”
“You say that for now, but we’ll see.”
“If there’s really no way for me to change your mind, fine, but maybe the reason people leave is just because you shove them away.”
You turned and returned to the table with that, not giving her a chance to respond. You still weren’t thrilled, but at least you felt like you understood her better now, and she seemed to soften toward you at least a little for the rest of the evening.
By the time the check came (a check you noticed that Allison picked up without even glancing at the numbers) you felt like you had really gotten to know Diego’s siblings, and seen a different side of him as he slowly loosened up around them.
As you all got up to leave, it became a chain of “it was nice to meet you”s and “we should do this again”s. Allison moved in for a hug and you returned it happily enough. Luther patted you on the shoulder awkwardly, his big hand enveloping it as if you were a child, surprising you with his size more close up than the other end of the table. Klaus moved as if to follow you home, and then pouted much like a stray puppy when Diego gave him a stern look that communicated without words that he was not allowed to do so. Then he turned to you and hugged you. But where Allison’s was polite and somewhat formal, Klaus’s was anything but, his long limbs folding around you and his chin resting on your shoulder.
“It was sooo good to meet you,” he purred in your ear. “And I’m glad Diego found you.” He pulled back to look you in the eye, his hands still resting on your upper arms. “I mean it. You’re good for him. Take care of him.”
“I will,” you said with a smile. “And you take care of yourself.”
Vanya offered you a polite nod, and you took what you could get.
~
“Y/N, I’m so sorry about tonight,” Diego sighed, running his fingers through his hair as he sank down onto the couch.
“What are you talking about D? It was fine.” You hung your coat on one of the pegs near the door and then, with a roll of your eyes, picked up his from where he’d tossed it on the floor and hung it as well.
“It was torture. In fact I think I’d rather be tortured.”
“I mean sure it was awkward, and your family’s a little weird, but I knew going in not to expect anything else.”
“It didn’t make you regret the day you ever met me?”
You dropped onto the couch next to him, leaning into his side and tilting your head to kiss him, smiling against his mouth.
“I could never regret that babe.”
His arm circled your shoulders, drawing you closer as he returned your kiss fervently. He groaned as you pressed against him and ran your tongue over his lower lip, opening up to invite you in. It wasn’t often that he let you take the lead, so you took full advantage while you could, pressing him back against the cushions and straddling his lap, running your hands through his hair.
“Besides,” you said, pulling back to smile teasingly. “Now I won’t feel so bad when you meet my family.”
#I hope you enjoy this darling Nonny#TUA season 2 spoilers#The Umbrella Academy season 2 spoilers#It sort of ended up more about the rest of the family and less about Diego#but I think it works?#Diego Hargreeves x Reader#meeting the family
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consequences
@notenoughgatorade prompted me with #33 from this list! I’m still taking prompts!
Set in CQL/TV The Untamed universe.
The urge is just too unbearable. And today is a ridiculously good day, the sky bright and the breeze crisp, and Wei Wuxian's in a sunny mood. He's about to run off with the juniors to Caiyi Town for lunch, leaving Lan Zhan to tend to his own matters for a while. Nothing he hasn't done before, nothing he won't do again. And the urge is nothing new, either. Lan Zhan stands at the screen door to see him off, and every time, Wei Wuxian feels the persistent and annoying need to peck him on the lips before he goes.
It's just an odd urge that occurs to him once in a while. Who knows why.
And today his heart is humming and he feels like nothing can go wrong. So just as he's saying his goodbyes, promising to be back before sundown and all, he suddenly darts in and presses a quick kiss to Lan Zhan's mouth. "Behave," he says. "I'm going now."
And he walks casually out of the doorway and through the courtyard and away. Like nothing happened.
But now that he’s done it, his pulse is jumping and he’s terrified of the consequences. The moment he is out of Lan Zhan's immediate line of sight, he ducks behind a tree and peeks back toward the jingshi.
Lan Zhan's hand is on his mouth. His eyes are blown open wide. He's standing stock still.
Oh, no. He’s made a huge mistake, hasn’t he?
Well, nothing for it now. He'll just have to apologize when he gets back. He doubts Lan Zhan will kick him out or anything for the imposition -- they've been living comfortably in the same building for a month since Wei Wuxian returned from his travels.
He goes to collect the juniors and set out for lunch and inevitable shenanigans. They'll keep his mind off it.
--
It's midafternoon when they return. Wei Wuxian has successfully distracted himself via spicy food and animated conversations among the juniors. He's rather proud of Sizhui and Jingyi, who spent the majority of their walk back arguing over whether a talisman should include a certain stroke or not (Sizhui thought it was reckless; Jingyi said that's the only way it's effective). Others talked about the girls they saw in town; one shyly confessed to having a crush on one of the female disciples, and was roundly teased for it. All in all, Wei Wuxian was able to keep his mind off his reckless action this morning. Mostly.
That all fades the moment they passed through the gate to Cloud Recesses. Wei Wuxian is suddenly terribly nervous.
What will Lan Zhan say? he wonders. What will he do? Will I get a scolding? Or maybe I'm overreacting. Maybe he's already forgotten all about it. That's meant to be a comfort, but it isn't -- partly because Wei Wuxian doubts it's true, and partly because a piece of him doesn't want Lan Zhan to forget about it.
Which is odd, it was a mistake, Lan Zhan usually lets his mistakes go, why should Wei Wuxian want him to remember it?
He sneaks back behind the same tree where he hid before, peers through the brush at the jingshi.
Lan Zhan is still standing at the door. His hand is still on his mouth. It looks like he hasn't moved a muscle the whole time Wei Wuxian was gone.
Looks like he hasn't forgotten about it at all.
Wei Wuxian pauses in trepidation outside the gate to the courtyard and summons up all his cheerfulness, pasting a big smile on his face. Maybe he can talk his way out of this.
"Lan Zhan!" he calls with a big wave as he enters. "You missed a fun trip! I hope what you were doing wasn't too boring, but who am I kidding, it was probably boring." He saunters up the steps to the Jingshi. "It's hard to believe how much A-Yuan has grown in the months I've been away. I've mentioned it before, but today--"
An arm blocks his way. Lan Zhan is blocking his access to the Jingshi. His jaw is clenched.
Shit.
Wei Wuxian summons up his boldness and puts a hand on that outstretched arm. "Lan Zhan. Don't tell me you are still hung up on that little joke I played on you this morning. It was just for fun! I didn't mean anything by it."
Lan Zhan lowers his arm slowly. His eyes narrow. "It was a joke?" he asks, as though he hadn't even pondered the possibility.
"Well, what else could it be? No, you know what, don't answer that question, it's too embarrassing. Anyway, tell me about your afternoon--"
"Don't do it," Lan Zhan says, a trace of coldness in his voice, "if you don't mean anything by it."
There's some implication there that Wei Wuxian is scared to examine. He saunters into the room and stretches, extending his arms as wide as he can. "That reminds me of something you told me a long time ago. In the cave. You were so upset about my flirting, do you remember? I said at the time you probably liked Mianmian. You got so angry." Why is he still talking about this? He has the vague feeling he's making things worse.
"I didn't," Lan Zhan says. "Like her."
"It's all ancient history anyway," Wei Wuxian says, sitting down. "Who cares who you liked? We were kids. Do we have fresh tea? The spicy peppers are still sticking with me. I'm afraid I may have some bad breath. You probably don't want to come near me."
And Lan Zhan certainly doesn't seem eager to come near. He's still standing at the doorway, watching Wei Wuxian with some interest. "I'll get tea," he says, and descends down the steps and away.
With him goes an ominous atmosphere; the air feels visibly lighter when he's out of the courtyard. Wei Wuxian sighs. What was that reaction about? Lan Zhan wasn't angry; neither has he forgotten it. More than that, what about Wei Wuxian's own reaction? Why does he care so much, anyway?
He leans back and folds his arms behind his head, looking up at the ceiling.
It was just this odd urge he felt once in a while. Now that he's done it, that should be the end, right? But there's something unresolved in all this. Something unsettling. Like this isn't, or shouldn't be, the last time.
That's the issue, isn't it? Wei Wuxian wants to do it again.
I want to kiss Lan Zhan.
He thinks the words methodically, one at a time, then tries them out loud. They sound less absurd than he'd expected. But he doesn't have those tendencies, does he? Granted, if he did, Lan Zhan would definitely be the guy he'd go for. He's handsome and genteel and, more than that, sweet and affectionate in the moments Wei Wuxian steals for himself, the ones no one else gets to see. There are times when he looks at Wei Wuxian and it makes him melt inside. Nobody else has ever looked at him like that.
Lan Zhan looks at him like that. Like he’s the only person in the world.
And Wei Wuxian wants to kiss him.
Oh.
The realization knocks the wind out of him. He has to remind himself to start breathing again.
It's an eternity until Lan Zhan returns with the tea. He's expressionless as he pours one cup for Wei Wuxian, one for himself, then sits neatly at the table across from him.
Wei Wuxian stares at him without saying a word. Now that he knows, he wants. The line of Lan Zhan's jaw, the broadness of his shoulders, the feel of him in the room. The curve of his hands around the teacup. Everything about him is staggeringly beautiful. Wei Wuxian has to wonder why it took himself so long to come to this epiphany. Who wouldn't fall in love with this man? He's everything anyone could ever want.
He's everything Wei Wuxian wants. He always has been.
"Will you drink?" Lan Zhan asks, breaking the silence.
"Ah-- of-- of course." Wei Wuxian forces a short laugh. "I got distracted."
Even so, Lan Zhan doesn't let him take more than a sip. "Wei Ying."
"Y-yes."
"Please ... think of the consequences of your actions." Lan Zhan's brow is furrowed, and his gaze is downward, as though he's unsure of what he's saying.
Wei Wuxian sighs. "You say that, Lan Zhan, but how am I to know what those consequences are? A talking-to and then we get tea? I'm thinking if I did it tomorrow, that wouldn't be your only response." Lan Zhan's eyes widen in sudden panic.
Wei Wuxian waves him down. "I won't do it tomorrow, don't worry." He tries to keep the smile off his face, but it's hard.
"Oh." Lan Zhan's gaze wavers. "Then there's no need to discuss it."
"I think there is a need," Wei Wuxian says, and he scoots himself around the table to take a seat next to Lan Zhan. "I think you really need to make clear what the consequences are of doing it again. In fact, I think it's so important, I'm willing to do it again just to find out."
The panic returns to Lan Zhan's eyes. "Wei Ying..."
Wei Wuxian leans forward. "Go on, then," he says, "show me what my punishment is." And he closes the gap between them and kisses Lan Zhan's soft lips. A little longer this time. Just a second or two, then over, and Wei Wuxian smiles. "What are you going to do to me?"
Lan Zhan grabs the back of his head and pulls him back in.
--
It's two hours later, and the sun is fast disappearing beyond the horizon. The rays shine slanted on the bed, and a golden sheen appears on Lan Zhan's bare side. Wei Wuxian touches his skin with two fingers, strokes. Lan Zhan murmurs approval.
"Why didn't we do this a long time ago?" Wei Wuxian wonders aloud.
"Many reasons." Lan Zhan says, touching Wei Wuxian's face with a gentle hand. "Mostly, I didn't know how you felt."
"That makes two of us," Wei Wuxian says ruefully. "I'm sorry it took me so long to realize it."
"It's fine." Lan Zhan's traces the shape of Wei Wuxian's lips with a finger. Simple, light contact, but Wei Wuxian can't resist trying to purse his lips and press kisses to that earnest fingertip. "Don't say sorry."
"Well, I have to say something." Wei Wuxian thinks for a moment. "How about this?" And he whispers something soft and low that makes Lan Zhan look at him with those wonderful, shining eyes.
"And," he adds, "I'm absolutely doing this again tomorrow. Now that I know the consequences."
Lan Zhan kisses him. "Please do."
#this got a bit uneven in the end but mehhhhh it's a ficlet#stuff tippy wrote#wangxian#wangxian fic#wangxian ficlet#cql#cql fic#cql ficlet#the untamed#the untamed fic#the untamed ficlet
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AO3 Writing Tag
Name(s): Somedrunkpirate
Fandom(s): The man from uncle, The Witcher, Good Omens, Inception,
Where you post: Ao3
Tagged by @iamanonniemouse
Tagging: @theheirofashandfire (good luck lmao)
Most Popular One Shot (by kudos):
This year: You’re a dream, darling, Good Omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, T, 11k
There are two very important facts:
1) Aziraphale is dead.
2) None of this is real.
-----
Crowley’s throat tightens. “My angel,” he says. “My best friend. He’s dead, you know.”
Aziraphale blinks and then blood drains from his face. “No, no. Crowley. No. I’m here. I’m right in front of you.”
“I know,” Crowley says. “Isn’t it amazing, what a dream can do?”
Of all time: On The Matter Of Touch, Good omens, Aziraphale/Crowley, T, 9k
“On the matter of touch,” Crowley begins, waving his teaspoon in what he hopes passes for idle curiosity. “Thoughts?”
---
For two ineffable husbands, they don't really touch each other much. Here is a story on why that might be.
Most Popular Multi-Chapter (by kudos):
This year: A Lover’s Lament, The Witcher, Geralt/Jaskier, M, 25k
So,” Jaskier begins, as casually as he can, “you are telling me, that in theory, if I were to be in love with someone — anyone — that person could well be in terrible danger?”
Of all terrible and ridiculous things that have threatened Geralt’s safety, Jaskier had never thought that loving him might be what will get him killed.
Of all time: Drowning Deep, TMFU (pacific rim au), Illya/Napoleon, M, 101k,
Don’t follow the rabbit. He knows this. Don’t fall into the rabbit hole of memories. You’ll drown.
But Illya lives there, deep in the past, it’s the only way he gets through the day.
Favorite story you’ve written so far:
This year: The Golden Ocean, TMFU, Napoleon/Illya, 85k
This story taught me to write for myself in the best and worst way. It is so hard to keep writing a prequel if it doesn’t receive a similar amount of feedback as the initial story. But I worked through it and got it done, for myself and my beta who supported me all throughout. And in the end, it’s probably my most original story I’ve written.
Of all time: A Lover’s Lament, The Witcher, Geralt/Jaskier, M, 25k
I think this story really shows how I’ve learned to become a better writer over the last couple of years. It’s densely packed with original lore, worldbuilding, fun character interactions and has a plot that reveals more about the characters on a second read. It also has an original female character that I feel is my first 100% successful 3d side-character who has a whole story of her own outside of the main ship plot.
Honorable mention: Cold Frost and Sunshine, TMFU, Napoleon/Illya, 50k
What initially started as purposefully the most trophy thing I’ve ever written (it’s a Hockey AU, for crying out loud), turned into an actual honest exploration of therapy and recovering from mental illness. I still get the occasional comment on it from people who said that the mental health parts really spoke to them, or that they even showed passages to Real Actual Therapists because it verbalized what they were feeling. This is the fic I always return to when I feel like my writing is worthless. Even the fic that I intended to have no deep value from the start, ended up being meaningful to people. It helps to remember that.
Fic you were nervous to post:
You’re a dream, darling, is a story where the main character experiences intense dissociation and believes his reality is a dream. I am very aware that this is an actual thing that people experience, and I wanted to make sure I was careful and respectful when handling the topic. I based the story on what I had researched and what I experienced once myself while having a bad reaction to medication + being high (really be careful with weed and adhd meds folks). I was so nervous to post it, and worried that I hadn’t trigger warned it clearly enough or something. But in the end I’ve received a lot of positive feedback from people who experience dissociation, and that meant the world to me!
How do you choose your titles?
Nine times out of ten the title is just kind of There, sometimes before I write it even. If not, I usually take inspiration from a line somewhere in the fic. Only once I needed to consult the poetry gods.
Do you outline?
Does daydreaming the story a bunch count as outlining? I usually have some vague ideas about upcoming scenes and possible endings, but for my larger fics those ideas get thrown out and I flail around for something else. I think Lover’s is so succinct because I had most of it already in my head when starting, whereas with Drowning Deep I had no clue what had actually happened to break the characters apart until like chapter three. So I guess it depends on the fic and whether I have to due to a big bang sign up or something.
Complete
51 fics (556k). This year: 9 (180k)
In-Progress:
The Angel of Greenwich: A good omens detective story set in the 1920′s, 22k.
In The Dark We Travel: Geraskier (the witcher) sci fi au, 28k.
They’re both on a hiatus because pandemic times are fucking with me, but I’m chipping away at them and could use the encouragement.
Coming Soon/Not Yet Started:
Tragic Superbat alternate universe shenanigans: Clark gets switched with Alternate Universe Clark, who has been in a relationship with Bruce for years. Bruce falls in love with AU-Clark while also trying to get his Clark back (who he is convinced still hates him).
Amnesia Jaskier with magical powers: Jaskier gets kidnapped and made into a powerful sorcerer, but the process removes all his memories. Geralt finds him completely dependent on the same mage that kidnapped him, and has to convince him that 1) Geralt is his friend and 2) Jaskier is not a dangerous monster, as the mage has convinced him. Very tragic all around.
Original femslash idea, Stern Orc Woman with golden heart and ADHD Monk. Can only end in chaos.
The Bullington Club: an original idea of a group of idiot lords looking for treasure and taking their longsuffering servants/guards with them on the ride. Aka that thing that completely got out of hand brainstorming with @theheirofashandfire
#writerly rambles#myfic#fic rec#geraskier#geraskier fic#geralt of rivia#Jaskier#witcher#the witcher#geralt/jaskier#witcher fic#Ineffable Husbands#Aziraphale#Crowley#Aziraphale/Crowley#Good Omens#GO#Good Omens Fic#Good Omens Fanfic#Good Omens Fanfiction#Ineffable Husbands fic#Ineffable Husband fanfic#GO fic rec#boi#i guess i did write something this year#sure did not feel like it
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Beach Day
Beach day with your boyfriends, Akaashi and Bokuto, gone wrong silly?
Genre: P u r e fluff
Characters: Poly!Akaashi x reader x Bokuto
As soon as you stepped off the bus you shielded your eyes from the glaring sun which had been blaring down on you and your boyfriends for days now. In front of you there was the never ending expanse of ocean, the horizon only broken by the uneven specks of islands far off in the distance. “WHOA, THERE'S SO MANY ISLANDS AROUND HERE, you think they can see us from all the way over there?" Bokuto's voice broke through the sound of the city behind you and the sound of the never ending noise of the people on the beach in front of you. "I think you should worry more about the people right here on the beach for now." Akaashi reminded the over excited man, squinting as he watched the people right below you three. Looking at the two standing on either side of you, you smiled and watched how Bokuto seemed to suddenly realize the sheer amount of people on the beach right now. Akaashi didn't seem as entranced by Bokuto's shocked face as you were and sighed, starting to lead the way down the stairs connecting the bus stop to the sand below. "C'mon owl-boy, we gotta look for a good spot to settle down or you're never gonna be able to play volleyball" you playfully teased, pulling on the fully unbuttoned, short sleeved, Hawaiian shirt and he obediently followed you, a volleyball stuck under his arm.
It was clear that you guys weren't the only people who thought today had been the perfect beach day as it was bustling with activity and people sunbathing, as well as people just normally bathing in the deep blue waves softly hitting the beach. Luckily everyone had dressed for the weather, Bokuto wearing the coolest outfit as he had just thrown on his swimming trunks and the fittingly silly hawaiian shirt which he had left unbuttoned, not that you complained. Akaashi went a bit more modest as he decided to at least throw on a proper white T-shirt with his trunks, a pair of sunglasses placed atop his head for the moment being. You dressed similarly, your bathing clothes working as a base together with whatever you felt was modest enough to travel on a bus with but nothing that would make you sweat in the summer heat. But you would be lying if you weren’t just waiting to get out of it and just lay in the shade, reading a book while watching your two favourite people play volleyball and maybe take a walk along the shore.
You quickly realised that that might be a much more difficult goal to accomplish then you had initially thought as every possible spot with availability to shade had already been claimed by people with similar plans. Akaashi had at this point taken your hand in his, afraid you’d be lost among the people. “Hey, Akaashiii, how come you’re not holding my hand huh? Aren’t you afraid I’d get lost too?” Bokuto sped up his pace to match yours, holding out his hand and making a grabby motion towards the raven haired man, pouting. “How could I? I’d probably hear you all the way from those islands you were talking about” He glanced back at you two, seemingly adamant about his decision to only hold your hand for now. But that didn’t last as he looked at Bokuto for more then two seconds and without another word he held out his other hand too. The older man instantly perked up and took ahold, happily being dragged along now. “You’re impossible..” “And yet you love usss.” You mused with Bokuto putting a hand on the small of your back, grinning. And so your trio moved across the beach.
“Hey, doesn’t that look like a good spot?” After only a minute or so you finally spotted a big enough place in the shade for you all to comfortable set up for the day. Bokuto vocally expressed his excitement, suddenly taking the lead and pulling you all along, no questions asked. Akaashi had almost tripped in the sand when his arm suddenly jerked in the direction of the spot but managed to catch himself before checking so you had survived the pull too. Thankfully you had, and not only that, you were laughing at the silliness of your boyfriends antics. But things didn’t go as planned as you got closer to the so called promised land.
“Oo- Half-n-half?” Bokuto stopped dead in his tracks, and dropped not only your hand but the ball he had been carrying too, surprised by the familiar face standing in front of him.
“Eh? What do you mean half-n-half… Your hair isn’t much better…” Kenma glared, a switch in his hands and a sports bag slung over his shoulder. You were about as surprised as Bokuto was and then you heard someone else speak up.
“What, you’re just gonna ignore me, owl bastard?” “ROOSTER HEAD?” “Don’t act like you didn’t ignore me on purpose!”
As the sudden dispute escalated between Kuroo and your own “owl bastard”, you took the moment to get your head around the situation, so did Akaashi who pulled up his own bag and picked up the one Bokuto had dropped in his shock. You looked to Kenma who was busy getting mildly annoyed at the two bickering men, impatiently waiting for them to calm down.
“So you and Kuroo are here for a beach day yourselves, huh, Kenma?” You smiled, taking a couple steps closer so you wouldn’t have to yell. He finally looked at you and vaguely nodded his head before looking back.
“I guess, Kuroo wanted to get a tan and dragged me along with him. I’m just planning on gaming though, I’m not looking to get a sun burn.” You hummed in acknowledgment, you weren’t surprised that Kenma wasn’t the one who initiated the trip. “That’s why we need the shade here, it’s difficult to play games with a sun glare on the screen”
The way he looked at you was almost challenging, like he made it clear that he wasn’t willing to give up the shaded spot. While you had been around Kenma a couple times along with Kuroo and Bokuto, you had never stood between him and something he wanted so were a little taken aback. Luckily, Akaashi was quick to back you up even if there was no real danger.
“I’m guessing its about as difficult as reading a book with the sun in your eyes.” Akaashi’s responded for you, clearly not backing down as he let a hand land on your waist. Kenma glanced at his hand and then the small bag you were carrying, quickly connecting the dots and pursing his lips. By now the two other people in your group had noticed what was going on and stopped their own shenanigans, curious about the situation that had formed. Kuroo was the first to separate from Bokuto, walking over to standing besides Kenma with a smirk. Bokuto in return walked over to Akaashi and you, putting his hands on his hips while wearing a confident grin.
“Seems like none of us are willing to give up the spot, eh?” Kuroo glanced at Kenma who was still staring at you three.
“Nope! So if you want it, you gotta take it from us fair and square! Right Akaashi? Y/N?” Bokuto quickly looked to you two, expectantly waiting for confirmation. While he looked like an owl, he reminded you more of a puppy.
“Right. It’s the least you can do for the spot, Nekoma.” Akaashi backed him up, something that Bokuto clearly got excited about. You looked to the two and sighed, smiling despite yourself.
The two opponents nodded and within seconds they were coming up with fair suggestions on how they could fight for the spot. Volleyball came up immediately but because of the little space on the beach, there wasn’t really a way to play during these busy hours. But after that, they came to the agreement of a race. To the ice cream shack and back to the spot, first team member to get there won it. Simple goal, simple rules.
“Y/N, you’ll be the judge.” Akaashi made eye contact to confirm his statement, checking so you would agree with it just in case. You nod, of course and straighten your back a little to prove your attention the assignment. Kuroo clearly perked up at this fact, getting playfully smug face.
“Hmm? How can we know they won’t be biased?” He asked, tilting his head. He knew you wouldn’t, you could see that in his eyes, but he couldn’t help wanting to provoke your boyfriends a little. Something that clearly worked as Bokuto puffed up his chest and furrowed his brows. Kenma gently slapped Kuroo’s arm, annoyed he had even agreed to this competition from the beginning and now he was prolonging the whole thing with useless teasing.
“Our Y/N? Never! That’s preposterous!” He argued, ready to get in another harmless tussle with the tall, dark-haired man. He was ready to defend your honor at the drop of a hat even if it was absolutely unnecessary as Akaashi mentioned that no one in this situation could be totally unbiased. Realising if you didn’t interrupt the situation now they would go on another discussion that would last god knows how long. And so you cleared your throat, gaining the mens attention while you pulled out a tissue from your bag, holding it up.
“Participants on your mark!” You said aloud, said participants quickly moving and pointing to each others feet as they scrambled to get on an even row, Akaashi taking an obvious leadership role in this. “Get ready!” You raised the tissue.
Paused. And..
“GO!”
You dropped your hand, the white tissue acting as the starting shot. They started running, throwing up sand behind them and leaving you in the shade, together with a Hawaiian shirt thrown off last second. You kept an eyes on them as they ran towards the ice cream shack but you noticed that Kenma was already falling behind, he clearly had a worse footing then the other three on the sand. While you wish you could’ve seen the whole thing with your eyes, they ended up getting lost in the maze of bodies, fighting to find the quickest way to the faded blue building. Bokuto and Kuroo were keeping their eyes on each other, throwing looks as they saw their competitor between unrelated bodies. Akaashi on the other hand was running his own race, his eyes darting from spot to spot as to find the smartest and most efficient way. Kenma got further and further behind, unable to keep up but still working logically, dodging people with practiced ease.
As they reached the shack, Bokuto and Kuroo slapped the side of the building only nanoseconds after each other, making eye contact before turning and sprinting back. Akaashi was only seconds behind, seeing the white and black tuft of hair diving back into sea of people and he couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief, thinking back to you. But that didn’t stop him from taking another deep breath and giving it his all on the way back too. Kenma was a… different story. He had run out of steam quickly and by the time he had gotten to the shack, he had already seen Kuroo wave at him. But he kept at it, knowing Kuroo wouldn’t shut up about it if he didn’t.
Back in the shade you had pulled out your water bottle, sipping on in, waiting for someone you recognized. And there he came, jumping out of the crowd, chest exposed and covered in sweat, grinning from ear to ear. Bokuto. Kuroo was the second person you saw but you also realised he was about to get passed by Akaashi whose stamina training was showing. With a shout and a leap, Bokuto crossed the line, hands thrown up in the air and you waved your tissue in the air, grinning almost as big as he was. Kuroo and Akaashi crossed the imagined line at about the same time, both of them stopping to catch their breath, Akaashi leaning his hands on his knees and Kuroo going as far as to sit down.
“D… damn…” Kuroo whispered as he leaned is head back, tilting it so he could watch you and your boyfriends who were celebrating as if they just gotten into Japans national team. Bokuto had grabbed you, lifting you up and spinning around before kissing your lips. Akaashi approaching to congratulate him and got pulled into a sideway hug accompanied by a kiss to his temple from the other. Kuroo couldn’t help but smile before it hit him, where the hell had Kenma gone.
Crossing the finish line minutes after the others, Kenma arrived with an ice lolly, examining the scene and realising what had happened.
“I guess we lost the spot.” He walked up besides Kuroo, taking another lick of his ice cream as he watched your celebrations. You looked over to the Nekoma boys and watched as they started packing their things. While the whole thing had been fun, it wasn’t really your thing to not at least try to compromise. Walking up to them, you smiled and put your hands behind you back.
“Hey, you guy’s don’t actually have to leave”
It wasn’t actually too hard to get everything to work. Since there were now four people wanting to play volleyball, or at least Kenma agreed to play for a bit, they spent majority of the time going at it in the sun. And you enjoyed your time watching them between reading the pages of your book. You had enjoyed your time regardless but seeing your two favourite men, shirtless and shining with sweat in the sun, their muscles visibly moving as they tensed and relaxed. Yeah, you’d enjoy your time but this was way better.
#fanfiction#haikyuu!!#haikyū!!#hq#akaashi x reader#bokuto x reader#one shot#haikyuu scenarios#x reader#akaashi x you#bokuto x you#bokuto kotaro#bokuto koutarou#akaashi keiji#akaashi#haikyuu!! akaashi#haikyuu!! Bokuto#haikyuu akaashi#haikyuu bokuto#bokuto imagine#akaashi imagine#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu fanfiction#akaashi keiji x reader#bokuto kotarou x reader#hq imagines#hq scenarios#hq fanfiction#hq x reader
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🌟 2020 fanwork highlights 🌟
Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your favourite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!
I was tagged by both @atembomb and @rainstormcolors!
2020 was wild. As I mentioned in my year-end wrap-up post, I wrote a ton of things, and since you can always check out the post through that link, I’m only going to share a few snippet quote here.
From Nerdshipping Shenanigans, I present passages from both “Blind Date” and “Weekend Getaway”, which I think were the two best ship pieces I’ve done this year.
In “Blind Date”, Ginny coaxes Hermione to attend Hogwarts’s winter formal, and sets her up with a date in the process.
Ginny turned the page in her book. “Is he stopping by Hogsmeade in two weeks?” There have been three Hogsmeade weekends so far through the year. Each time, Seto had traveled from wherever he was working to see Hermione, and she had never seen her friend so eager to visit the village before in all the years she had known her. One time, he even brought Yugi, and the three of them spent almost the entire afternoon at one of the outside café tables next to Wermes Bookstore.
She looked up to see the smile slip from Hermione’s face. So he wasn’t coming this time…interesting.
“He’s going to be at a convention that weekend,” Hermione said. “But he has the rest of them in his calendar. That was the only one he won’t make.”
“Oh, that’s too bad,” said Ginny. Her face softened and she smiled sadly at her. “It must be really hard being so far away all the time.”
Hermione sagged back against her pillow and looked away from her.
“…So where is he these days, anyhow?”
“Right now, San Francisco,” said Hermione, and she leaned forward to pet Crookshanks. “He’ll be in back in Japan during Hogsmeade weekend, promoting a new video game for his company.”
“Guy sure does get around,” said Ginny, “How do you keep track of all the places he keeps going to?” She then smirked over at Hermione and cut in before she could respond. “The answer is – you can’t. Like that one time when –”
Hermione’s face reddened. “It was one time!”
“Weekend Getaway saw Hermione sneak Seto out of the office to celebrate his birthday.
Seto woke to the faint sound of squawking seagulls and his eyes slowly opened to the darkened bedroom. Hermione was snuggled in, sharing the other half of his pillow with her head resting against the crook of his neck with one arm draped across his chest. He could feel her slow, deep breaths; each exhale a puff of air that warmed his skin just above the collar of his pajamas.
Of all the places she could have taken him, he did not expect a quiet coastal town off the eastern shore of the United States, in a little rented house that sat right along the beach, and the front steps led right onto the boardwalk that seemed to continue on forever in each direction.
“This place is charming,” Hermione had said when they first arrived. “Someone from the Department of International Magical Cooperation mentioned this town to me when I was trying to make plans for the weekend.”
They had spent the better part of yesterday exploring the town. The summer tourist season had ended last month, clearing most of the crowds from the beach. Cool crisp air rolled off of the water to counter the unusually still warm autumn weather. They had to have walked up and down most of the quaint little town, and wandered into a number of tiny little shops.
The longest brunt of time was spent in a hidden gem of a bookstore, four blocks from the house.
“I swear I didn’t know about it when I made the reservations!” she had said. Did he plan on spending half his vacation day in a bookshop? Nope. But was he going to begrudge her the chance to find something to take onto the beach, after seeing how much her eyes lit up once she saw the sign above the shop door? After seeing the pleading look of ‘can we please detour on our way to the museum, just for a few minutes?’ Absolutely not.
It didn’t matter that five minutes turned into a couple of hours.
Sufficed to say, wandering all over town on foot had tired him out more than he expected, and he felt he slept better than he had over the entire last week.
Despite waking up at six in the morning, like clockwork. Hermione seemed to be still asleep.
He shifted, to try and get out from under her arm when she suddenly let out a sad, whiney sort of noise, and she tightened her hold on him.
I also had the fun of writing a gift fic during this year’s YGOME exchange and had the most fun diving into Yugi’s headspace as he returns home from Egypt. This is from Guilt.
Yugi didn’t talk for the majority of the plane ride home, but did manage to give a small smile and a wave to his grandfather at the airport. Grandpa naturally pressed for details but only received short, clipped answers in return: what happened to the Millennium Puzzle? (“Gone.”) Did they get to finish what they set out to do? (“Yes.”) Did he still have the God cards? (“No.”)
Though he had to check himself on the last one. It was no secret that his grandfather loved to admire them, but Yugi vaguely remembered the tomb taking back the God monsters, just as it did the Millennium Items, as if to say the Pharaoh has left. The Millennium Items are gone. Their work is done, they can all finally rest.
Yugi sank down onto his bed and, with a shaking hand, pulled the golden box from his bag. Inside sat both his new Duel Monsters deck, and the one he used to share with Atem. He removed his deck and put it safely away in his deck box. But he couldn’t help but stare at the set of cards he left inside.
Ten years…
Yugi scooted back against his headboard and clutched the golden puzzle box tightly against his chest, eyes closed.
If he went back in time ten years to the date Grandpa handed him the Millennium Puzzle, broken apart in this very box and told his younger self of all he had to look forward to, both the good and the bad, he would have thought himself mad. Eight years to complete a simple puzzle? Ridiculous! Magic? Come on!
Gonna cut it off here because otherwise I will be dropping fic snippets for the next week. OLSSM, Sapphire Road, Ghost in the Machine, and Murder Most Foul all have too many great moments and I love them all equally.
Continuing forward, I’m going to tag @darksidechick823 and @bellamy-taft! But if you see this post and are a writer, consider yourself tagged too! :D
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helllooooo!! can i get some childhood friend s/o with all of the sinclair boys? thanks ily!!
BO SINCLAIR
When you met him he always wore long sleeves or had his hands wrapped up. When you asked him he dodged it or told you to fuck off.
Angry boi doesn't wanna let anyone in and he is emotionally constipated. But will open due to your persistence to be nice to him and defending his twin from being picked on. Though he might be a bit jealous. But you give him WAY more attention so he forgives it
He tells you one night how he got those scars on his wrist and you hold him and he never wants to let you go. You become close with him and even give him a little kiss before lights out.
But then you get adopted and pulled away from him. Both of you throw fits before being ripped apart.
Years later you go on a road trip with some friends. The car breaks down and you find an abandoned looking town. Inside the run down gas station you find a similar looking man. Glancing down at his wrists you can still see the scars.
You point to his wrist and ask him about his wrists. He smiles and responds: "You should know how I got em. You were one persistent brat."
You laugh and go to hug him. He hugs back. Happy to see his child hood friend and crush from be.
VINCENT SINCLAIR
Being close to him as a child consisted of you talking to him non stop because it hurts him to talk and he likes hearing your voice. The other part was throwing hands with bullies. You learned how to fight at a young age.
He always was worried about you but you just grin and say its worth it so he doesn't get picked on.
From that moment he knew he loved you. He even shows you whatd under the mask after awhile. You dont flinch instead opting to call him cute and now he's even more hooked on you now.
Once again being adopted broke you teo apart. He didn't even know until after you were gone. You couldn't find him before you left, he was hiding from the mean kids.
Heartbroken you never forgot him.
One day you're traveling down some back roads to get to a family members house you come across a small little abandoned town. A building catches your eye. The house of wax.
You decide to pull over and go in. Seeing all the art it reminds you of the shy quiet Vincent.
Peeking around you find the artist setting up another statue up. You can vaguely see a wax mask.
Her heart skips a beat. "Vinny?" He jumps and nearly drops his art piece. He turns to you and sees your familiar grin.
"Long time no see cutie."
You'll have to initiate the hug and friendly talk again. But hes so happy to have his child hood protector. But now he can protect you and repay you the kindness you gave him.
LESTER SINCLAIR
Strange kids? Strange kids! Both you and him were strange as hell and loved it!
Bo picked on both of you but neither really mind. Lester would always show you animals he found dead or alive. Your interests are peaked either way.
His older brothers were complete opposites from him and you liked him the best. Always playing pranks and getting into shenanigans together.
After being adopted you hadn't seen Lester since then and it was a teary goodbye for you both.
You had spent the night in the wilderness taking pictures of wildlife. Heading back to your car you noticed something off. Your car wouldn't start. And in the middle of nowhere you had no cell service. Thankfully for you a car was driving by.
Standing in front of the road and waving to him to pull over. The driver pulled over and popped his head out of the car.
"Hi! I'm Y/N and my cars broken can you give me a lift?" The man stops in his tracks before rushing towards you.
He wraps his arms around you as you shriek. He spins you around. "Y/N! It's me! Your old buddy!"
"Lester?!" You giggle, now realizing why he was acting the way he was!
You wrap your arms around him. Happy to be with your goofy buddy again.
#vincent sinclair x reader#vincent sinclair#bo sinclair#bo sinclair x reader#lester sinclair#lester sinclair x reader#house of wax
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Chaos Count (Warehouse 13/Leverage Crossover Fic)
Tags: Leverage OT3, Warehouse 13, Shenanigans, teen and up (language and innuendo); also on AO3
Summary: Bennett Sutton, the Count of Saint Germain, has gotten himself into trouble again and calls people he knows can help. What no one expected was that help would bring up so many past exploits.
1. A Count, A Secret Service Agent and A Time-Traveler Walk Into a Bar…
Myka sat and stared at the text message on her phone. The words hadn’t changed in order since she first received the text half an hour ago, but she still wasn’t sure what to make of them.
Helena came in, notebook in hand and pen behind one ear. Seeing Myka on the couch, she perched on the arm next to her and peered at the phone. “What has you so perplexed, darling? Pete trying to text using only those cartoon faces again?”
Myka chuckled, as she was sure Helena intended. “No, thank goodness. A full mouth is one thing, emojis are something else entirely. No, this is a text message from… well, actually, want to come with me on this one? Easier to show than explain.”
“Curiosity?” Helena asked.
“Maybe. Definitely going to need a sit down face to face to figure it out,” Myka decided, texting back a place and time. “We can be there by dinner if we leave now.”
“Righty ho, then; I’ll just go get my jacket. Shall I tell Pete?”
That was actually a good question, Myka thought. “Let’s call this reconnaissance and wait until we know more to tell the others.”
“You know how I feel about vague statements.”
Myka chuckled, “I know, you want to be the only one making them. I’ll meet you at the car.”
***
Myka scanned the bar, looking for a familiar face. Possibly with terrible fake facial hair. She still hadn’t explained to Helena who exactly it was they were meeting in this dive in Rapid City. There really were no words. And Myka would admit, if only to herself, she was a bit curious as to how they would react to each other...
“Well, hello. The Warehouse only hiring hot women these days? What happened to the forehead? You his replacement, come to interrogate me? I do hope you brought rope.”
The pompous drawl caused Helena to spin around and glare down her nose at the man who had come up behind them.
Myka just smirked, “You don’t want to know what she can do with rope. There a reason you wanted to meet, Ned?”
The man in front of her winced. He really hadn’t changed at all since he and his son had gotten into their SUV and driven away from the Warehouse. “Can you please not call me that? What a horrible moniker. And please, introduce me.”
“Sutton, this is Helena, Helena, meet Bennett Sutton, previously known as the Count of Saint Germain.”
Helena raised an eyebrow at Myka, which promised a grilling later. “Courtesy title?”
“Original, actually. I moisturize.”
“Flirt later, explain first,” Myka ordered, picking a table in a quiet corner and sitting down. “You texted me.”
“Well, yes, about that. I may have miscalculated slightly,” Sutton answered with a chagrined expression.
“Is Nicholas alright?”
Sutton waved a hand, “The boy is fine. Rather a stereotypical teenager, I have been led to understand. I would really prefer he not find out about this.”
“What did you do?” Myka asked, a sinking feeling in her stomach. What idiocy did he start now? Nicholas really was the adult in the family.
“Well, I nicked something that turns out to be an artifact.”
“Did you bring it with you?”
Sutton turned to look at Helena and winked, “I’d be happy to let you search me.”
Helena snorted, “Does that line even work?”
“You’d be surprised how well my lines work. I’ll demonstrate for you any time.”
“Sutton,” Myka cut in.
“Right. Back to work.” He pulled a small box out of his pocket and slid it across the table. “It belonged to Marie; I saw it come up at auction, found out who bought it, and made their acquaintance. I had no idea it had been imbued with any sort of power until I wore it out one night and had the hardest time getting everyone to leave me alone. I like attention, but that was too much even for me. Couldn’t make it to the washroom without someone following me.”
“And then you couldn’t lift anything else,” Helena shrewdly stated as she leaned forward and watched Myka flip it open with one of the purple gloves. Inside nestled a diamond encrusted ring with the initials MA, it had been strung on a chain which looked much newer.
“Marie Antoinette’s ring, with a lock of her hair inside. Artie did wonder whether it had artifact properties when we saw it go up for auction. We didn’t have a chance to swap it out for a replica,” Myka murmured, then gently closed the box and slid it into a static bag.
“Yes, well, it does. I also need to return it to the man who bought it. I had no idea I’d be having to deal with him on a regular basis, and he’s already suspicious of me.” Sutton reached for the bag, only to stop when both Myka and Helena leveled matching glares at him.
“You can’t return this, no matter what mess you’ve gotten into. It’s going to the Warehouse.” Myka put the static bag into her pocket.
“You mentioned a replica?” Sutton said hopefully.
“Yeah, but you can’t be the one to return it if you’re going to avoid suspicion.”
“We could call…” Helena suggested.
“Artie wouldn’t like it. We could do it,” Myka protested.
“I thought you called them friends.”
“They are, but--”
“Asking Parker to return a diamond ring might put a strain on that relationship,” Helena agreed.
“Ladies,” Sutton interrupted. “Not that I object to watching the two of you flirting, but the man in question is a major donor to the university that Nicholas attends, and has ties to a mobster that was imprisoned a few years ago. You do not want him to find the Warehouse.”
Myka sighed. “Mobsters? Seriously, Sutton, what happened to going straight and taking care of your son?”
“I didn’t know about the mobster connection until after I nicked it. And now I see him at all the university events.”
Myka sighed and looked at Helena, who raised her chin in agreement. Guess she’d be making those calls after all.
“Alright. We’re going to need you to come to the Warehouse and debrief the people who are going to return the replica of the ring. I’ll send you a message when I hear back from them about a time.”
“Thank you,” Sutton said, his voice sincere for the first time since they had walked in the door to this bar.
“Don’t make a habit of it; and make sure you show up when I tell you to.”
“Always, ma cherie.”
Helena bumped her shoulder against Myka’s as they passed through the doorway out to the parking lot. “You owe me dinner and an explanation.”
“Yeah. Just let me call the Warehouse and let them know what’s going on.”
____________
Thanks for reading the first chapter! This is my first time posting a fic directly onto Tumblr; you can also find it over on AO3 (it’s also where I’ve hidden the rest of the notes). I’ll be updating the fic on both Tumblr and AO3 over the next few days.
#Leverage OT3#(they come in next chapter I promise)#Warehouse 13#fic crossover#indulgent fluff#My fanfiction tag
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