#maybe i'd like to hold a lantern.....

[idkyetxoxo]

Five | Crawling Back to You | Powerless

Pairing - Rhysand x reader

Word count - 2.6k

Warnings - Violence, injury

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I had barely left the room in days.

The silence had become a strange sort of comfort, less like peace, more like numbness. The bed remained mostly untouched except for the tangled sheets where I'd tossed and turned through fractured dreams. 

Dreams of warmth and laughter, of starlight and hands I didn't recognise, hands that felt like home. Dreams that left me waking in cold sweats, gasping a name I didn't remember choosing.

Rhysand. The name still felt foreign on my tongue.

When the knock came, I almost didn't answer.

But something in me, a flicker of something I couldn't name, uncoiled and reached for the door.

When I opened it, I expected... I didn't know what I expected. But it wasn't them.

Cassian stood there first, his shoulders impossibly broad, wings tucked in behind him, his usually warm brown eyes hesitant now. 

Azriel was a shadow at his side, calm, unreadable as always but I could sense his stillness wasn't indifference. It was carefulness. As if one wrong move might send me sprinting back into hiding.

They both looked surprised. Perhaps they hadn't expected me to answer.

Cassian rubbed at the back of his neck awkwardly, clearing his throat. "We... thought you might want to get out. Just for a bit."

Azriel added quietly, "No pressure. We don't have to talk. Just... walk. Some air. The riverfront's nice at night."

It was probably the most words I'd heard Azriel say since arriving in Velaris, and the fact that he was speaking them now made something in my chest tighten.

How far gone was I that these two warriors, Illyrian legends whispered about in taverns and training camps, were treating me like something delicate?

Like something broken.

I looked down at my hands, clenched in the sleeves of the robe Mor had given me. They trembled slightly.

"I don't..." I swallowed. "I don't remember you. Not really." The confession scraped out of me, small and brittle.

Cassian's smile dimmed, but didn't disappear. "That's okay."

I met his eyes, and the grief swimming in them nearly sent me retreating behind the door again. "I'm not the female you loved," I whispered.

Cassian's shoulders deflated slightly, but he nodded, his voice thick with something like exhaustion when he said, "That's okay too."

Azriel didn't speak. He just extended a hand, not to take mine, just an open gesture. An invitation.

And maybe it was the look in his eyes, or maybe it was the fact that I didn't want to be alone anymore, not tonight but I stepped forward. One step, then another.

We walked in silence through the winding streets of Velaris.

The city glittered like a jewel under the starlit sky. Soft music drifted from balconies, and the scent of lavender and freshly baked bread mingled in the air. Laughter echoed faintly from a distant café, and lanterns bobbed gently along the river.

It was beautiful. And utterly unfamiliar.

The males flanked me quietly, like guards, or perhaps... like brothers. I couldn't tell which. I didn't have memories of them. I couldn't feel whatever it was we had once shared.

But their presence, heavy as it was, felt... safe.

Maybe I had spoken too soon. Maybe I had let the peace of the evening, the quiet companionship of Cassian and Azriel lull me into a false sense of safety.

One moment we were walking beneath the velvet sky of Velaris, the stars glinting like watchful eyes, and the next... the street was empty. Too empty. Like the city itself was holding its breath.

Then I saw him.

A figure emerged from the shadows ahead, broad shoulders, golden hair tousled like he'd run here. A face I knew. One I'd held between my hands. One I'd kissed under the illusion of love.

"Cyrus?" I breathed, blinking as if the vision might disappear if I looked too hard.

For one heartbeat, just one, I felt something like relief. Familiarity. I took a step forward.

My voice trembled, caught between disbelief and hope. "Is it really you?"

He slowed, stopped just a few paces away. And for a moment, I saw the male I thought I'd loved. The one I'd clung to in the fog of my memory. The one who'd told me I belonged to him, that he'd keep me safe. I almost smiled. Almost.

But the way he looked at me... something was off.

Tightness curled around his mouth. His eyes were wild, not from joy or desperation, but something hungrier. Darker.

"There you are," he said, voice too smooth, too flat. His lips curled into something like a smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. They flicked to the shadows behind me and then back.

I swallowed, suddenly uncertain.

He reached out a hand. "Come. We have to go."

I blinked. "Go...? What—what are you talking about?"

His tone was already sharper. "Away. From here. From them."

He stepped closer. I didn't move.

"You've been taken, love," he said, and the pet name felt wrong on his tongue, wrong in a way it never had before. "I've searched the entire realm for you. You have no idea how dangerous it is here."

His fingers twitched, as if ready to seize mine whether I wanted them or not.

Cassian was suddenly beside me, his hand hovering just behind my elbow, subtle, steady, protective. 

Azriel moved as well, smooth as a whisper of wind, placing himself between me and Cyrus. His wings curled just slightly outward, a barrier of shadows.

"Step back," Azriel said, voice like cold steel drawn slow from a sheath.

Cyrus didn't blink. "I'm taking her home," he snapped. "She doesn't belong here."

That word. Home. It echoed through my mind like a hollow drumbeat. Once, I would've agreed. Once, I would've run to him without question.

But now... now the word sat strangely in my chest. Uneven. Empty.

"But I..." I hesitated, blinking up at him. "Why didn't you come sooner? Why—why did Rhysand say—?"

Cyrus's expression twisted, sharp and vicious.

"Because he's lying to you," he snapped. "He's poisoned your mind, twisted your thoughts, filled you with filth about us."

I flinched at the venom in his voice. That was the moment I felt it. Fear. True, bone-deep fear, not confusion, not doubt. Fear.

He took another step forward. I took one back.

"Cyrus," I said, my voice trembling. "You're scaring me."

His eyes narrowed, and a vein in his jaw pulsed.

"Don't say that." He hissed the words like they wounded him. "They've done this to you. Made you afraid of me. After everything I did for you. After everything I gave you."

Cassian stepped fully between us now, the air shimmering with his restrained power. "That's enough," he said, voice low and lethal. "You need to walk away. Now."

"I'm not talking to you," Cyrus growled and then, so fast I barely saw it, he threw a small object onto the ground.

A flash of silver. A small object thrown to the cobblestones at our feet.

Faebane. The sickly green mist exploded outward in a wave. I gagged at the scent, bitter and acidic.

Azriel reeled, his knees buckling as his wings drooped like wilted leaves. Cassian grunted, catching himself on one knee, his hand at his chest, eyes wide.

My heart nearly stopped. "What are you doing?!"

Cyrus turned to me, snarling now, no gentleness left in his voice. "You're mine. You've always been mine."

Something inside me shattered. A tremor through my ribs. A tear across my soul.

It wasn't the words, those I had heard before. It was how he said them. As if I were a thing to be claimed. Not a person. Not a choice. Something to cage. To keep.

And with that fracture, something ancient stirred.

Like a long-buried root suddenly watered. Like breath drawn into lungs that hadn't expanded in years.

It began as pressure, a thread pulled taut in the cage of my chest. Not pain. No. Worse. Familiar. Ancient. Wrong.

Like the ghost of a name I hadn't yet remembered echoing through a canyon inside me.

"I'm not," I whispered.

He reached for me. I didn't think. I didn't plan. I screamed.

A sound not born of fear but of something deeper, older, than voice. A sound from the marrow of me. From every shattered star inside my soul.

And though I didn't know I had done it—I called him. Rhysand. His name tore from my soul like lightning from a black sky.

And the world broke. A crack like thunder split the street in half. The air pulsed with shadows. The wind howled as if Velaris itself wept with rage.

He appeared.

Darkness wreathed around him, alive, burning, furious. Wings spread wide, tipped in the silver light of the moon.

His face was carved in ice. Not beautiful. Not now. Terrible. Devastating. His rage filled the space like a stormcloud made of bone and shadow.

"Get away from her," he growled. Not loud. Just... final.

Cyrus spun. Snarled.

But he didn't get another word. Rhysand struck.

They clashed like gods in a legend, the street exploding beneath their feet, darkness and golden light colliding. 

Rhysand moved like a blade unsheathed, brutal and elegant, shadows coiling around his wrists like living armour. 

But Cyrus—he was fast. Prepared. His magic coiled like poison.

They moved too quickly to follow, flashes of steel, bursts of power. The sky above seemed to tremble with each strike. Glass shattered somewhere. Distant voices screamed.

A blade found flesh.

Rhysand gasped. A sound like crushed breath. He stumbled, clutching his side, blood already soaking through his shirt. Dark. So dark.

"Rhys—!" I cried, my voice breaking.

He turned to look at me, just for a second. And the world changed.

His eyes, those violet stars, locked on mine. And something inside me snapped. Not pain. Recognition.

The tether I'd tried to ignore, refused to see, surged to life.

Heat bloomed in my chest. A deep, searing warmth that pulsed through my veins like fire and moonlight. Like magic woken from sleep.

It wasn't just a bond, it was the bond. Ours.

Not born of panic or confusion. This was ancient. Chosen. A vow not made of words, but of souls.

I collapsed to my knees.

The necklace at my throat, the one shaped like a star, flared with light. It warmed until it nearly burned, but I didn't move. Couldn't.

Because everything came rushing back.

Our first kiss. Our first fight. The sound of his laugh when I made some terrible joke. The way his fingers trembled the first time he touched my bare skin. 

The smell of cedar and citrus and something older—home.

The vows we whispered under moonlight. The promises made with bodies pressed together. The feel of his heartbeat against mine. The sound of my name in his voice. Not just spoken, reverent.

"I love you," I had whispered to him once, pressing my lips to the very star now glowing at my neck.

Tears streamed down my face. I couldn't breathe. I remembered. All of it.

Every kiss. Every fight. Every promise. The war. The blood. The impossible choices. The moments we were just... two people who had saved each other.

The bond didn't flare—it roared. Like it had been waiting. Waiting for me to remember who I was. Who we were.

Cyrus shouted something behind me. Desperation now. Not command. But I barely heard him.

I was choking on memory. On truth. 

My hands clutched at the street, the stone scraping my knees. I sobbed, soundless, shaking.

Too much. Too much.

I heard Cassian yelling. Azriel's voice like a whip. Another clash. Another strike. But the only sound I truly heard—

Was him. His voice. Not shouting. Not calling. Just a whisper. Soft. Desperate.

I heard him speak my name. Not the name others used. The way he said it. Like a prayer wrapped in grief and love and a thousand years of heartbreak.

And I broke. All over again. 

Only this time... I knew who I was.

Rhysand's POV - 

I had been in my study, the sun long since dipped below the horizon, though I'd barely noticed. 

Reports lay scattered across the desk, diplomatic, trade, all of them irrelevant beneath the storm churning in my chest.

She was out. With Cassian and Azriel. Safe. At least that's what I told myself.

But the bond, our bond, had begun to thrum in a way that hadn't in weeks. A quiet flicker of awareness. An itch beneath my skin. 

Not quite recognition, but something was trying to wake up.

Still, I tried to give her space. Tried to be patient. Tried to let her come back on her own.

Until I heard it. Her scream. Not in my ears but in my soul.

It tore through the fabric of me like a star imploding. Raw, primal, threaded with fear so deep it brought me to my knees.

And with it—her voice.

"Rhysand."

My name wrenched from her, not spoken but summoned. Not the way others said it. The way she used to.

The bond roared to life, snapping taut inside me. The unfinished thing it had been suddenly pulled toward a singular point, like a cord leading straight into fire.

I didn't breathe. Didn't think. I vanished from my study and reappeared in hell.

The street was half in ruins, smoke curling up from shattered cobblestones. The scent of Faebane stung the air. 

Azriel was slumped against a wall, groaning. Cassian was down on one knee, wings drooping, face pale with effort.

And her, my mate, was on her knees in the street, hands fisted in the dirt, her necklace glowing at her throat like a star torn from the sky.

And between us—him. Cyrus.

Exactly as I'd remembered him. Arrogant. Golden. Cruel. Exactly as I'd imagined when I dreamed of killing him.

My rage was not a fire. It was a void.

I didn't give him time to speak. I struck, shadows leaping to meet my magic as we collided. I didn't fight cleanly. I didn't fight honourably. 

I fought like a male possessed because I was.

He met me blow for blow, quick and trained. But it didn't matter. I didn't care how strong he was. I would end him for what he'd done. For the terror he'd put in her eyes.

Until Agony. His blade, no ordinary steel, sliced across my side, and instantly I felt it. 

Poison. Not enough to kill. No. Worse. Enough to paralyse.

I staggered back, darkness flickering at my fingertips. My vision swam. Every breath was a battle. My body turned traitor. Limbs heavy. Lungs burning. Power retreating.

"Darling—" I choked.

And then I saw it, her collapse. Her hands clawed the ground. Her chest heaved. That necklace, the one I gave her centuries ago—blazed.

And I felt it.

The bond. Not just a thread anymore. Not a tether. A roar of light and memory and love crashing through both of us like a tidal wave.

I felt it all—her remembering.

Every touch. Every laugh. Every kiss. The promise made in silence and skin. The way she had once whispered, "You are my heart, Rhysand."

I felt it as clearly as I felt the blood soaking my side.

And still I couldn't move. My arms trembled, useless. My legs gave out, forcing me to my knees. The poison gripped me like chains of ice.

I tried to reach for her. My mate. My love.

But the world tilted sideways. The street wavered. And I watched her, gasping, breaking, remembering everything as she crumpled to the ground.

And I could do nothing.

My body failed me. My power couldn't get to her. I couldn't even crawl the few feet between us. Helpless. I'd never known anything so cruel.

Cyrus screamed in the distance, rage laced with fear now. I couldn't see him, I could only see her.

Her face soaked with tears. Her chest rising and falling as if the air itself burned. The bond shone around her like moonlight made flesh.

And I whispered her name. Not loud. Not desperate. Just real.

Because I knew she was mine. And I was hers. And she had finally come home.

Even if I died in the next breath... I would die knowing she remembered. 

She chose me. Again.

A/n - So... that escalated quickly :)

Her memories came rushing back right in the middle of chaos (because of course they did), and Rhys is paralysed and can't even crawl to her—rude timing, honestly x

But when she screamed his name? He dropped everything. He didn't walk. He didn't run. He winnowed into absolute hellfire to get to her. And when their bond finally roared back to life it was bittersweet, devastating and magical!!

Also, Cyrus?? This is a Velaris sidewalk, NOT your villain origin monologue hour.

Thank you so much for reading, let me know what you think <3

Powerless tag list - @serenedinosaurdreadnought @queenoffeysand @booksstarryskies @cubanfire @thegirlulike @mystirica-18 @tele86 @xlosttdreamss @coffeebooksrain18 @thisfireheart @bluebries81 @booksbypisces @lilah-asteria @fxckmiup @circe143 @barb00235 @saltedcoffeescotch @forevertilltheendcredits

[witherby]

Bruce is laughing. His husband's hero reputation is getting smeared and he's laughing.

"I told you not to kiss me!" He wheezes, unable to look at the front page of the Gotham Gazette without losing it again.

"It was impulse! I was worried for you, asshole," Hal snaps, but Bruce's genuine mirth is so contagious he's quickly losing steam. He doesn't hear him laugh so openly very often, and it tempers his anger like a soothing balm. He rolls his eyes and sighs, looking at the headline of the newspaper lying on their dresser again.

GREEN LANTERN TURNED GREEN HOMEWRECKER? BRUCEMAN BROKEN UP?

Brucie Wayne spotted enthusiastically showing his appreciation for Green Lantern's daring rescue!

A picture of Hal in his suit is on the front page, holding a roughed-up Bruce in an intimate embrace while they exchange a kiss. In the background, a bunch of masked men that had kidnapped Bruce from a luncheon he'd attended were trapped in a cage construct while waiting for police to come detain them. In the bottom right-hand corner of the photo, a small artistic depiction of Batman has a broken heart symbol on his chest where the bat motif would be.

"I didn't want Batman to find out this way," Bruce snickers. "He'll never let you back in Gotham again."

"Batman likes the way my ass looks in the suit too much to turn me away," Hal mumbles, crossing his arms. Bruce pushes them apart again and pulls him to his chest, burying his face in Hal's shoulder.

"Maybe he does," Bruce hums. "Sorry about the media attention, but I did warn you that wherever I go, there's usually paparazzi to follow. I can always put out a statement that I was never dating Batman, or that we're poly."

"I'd prefer the former," Hal sighs. "It's bad enough my spouse is getting schmoozed up by other snobby socialites. They don't need to up the ante thinking we've got an open marriage."

"Jealousy looks good on you," Bruce says, turning his face into Hal's throat. Hal sucks in a slow, deep breath.

"Yeah?" He mumbles. They should've been out of bed and getting ready for the day by now, but...

"Yeah," Bruce says, peppering kisses up his jaw.

Hal exhales sharply and rolls over, pinning Bruce's smug form into the sheets.

"I'll make jealousy feel good, too."

[skaiylus]

Love and Deepspace - Valentines Day (Fluff)

A/N : yes I'm a few days late sorry <3. There is some clear bias in Sylus's 🤣. I am still new to Love & Deepspace so they are definitely OOC.

Sylus – A Night of Hidden Truths

The city becomes a blur of neon lights as Sylus leads you through a hidden passageway. You weren’t sure where you were going - but with Sylus, that was nothing new.

"Trust me," he murmured, his grip firm yet careful as he guided you up a rusted fire escape. The cold wind nipped at your skin, but the warmth of his hand in yours was enough to keep you steady.

At the top, the city stretched out before you—Linkon City in all its chaotic beauty. The rooftop was secluded - a stark contrast to the bustling streets below.

"I used to come here alone," Sylus admitted, leaning against the railing. You turned to face him, the usual teasing smirk on his lips softer tonight.

"And you brought me here because…?" you prompted, crossing your arms.

"Because I wanted a night without masks. Just you and me. No expectations. No running."

Your heart clenched at the rare vulnerability in his voice.You stepped closer, placing your hand over his

"Then let’s not run."

For a moment, he hesitated. Then, with a quiet hum of approval, he pulled you into his arms, his lips brushing against your forehead.

"Close your eyes."

"Sylus, if this is one of your cryptic surprises—"

"Just trust me please sweetie? " he murmured, his voice quieter than usual.

You sighed but obeyed, feeling the gentle tug of his hand as he guided you forward. The air smelled faintly of fresh roses and something sweet—chocolate, maybe?

"Okay. Open them."

Your breath hitched.

The rooftop was completely transformed. A pathway of softly glowing lanterns led to a cozy, candlelit setup—a plush blanket spread out, trays of food, and an array of neatly wrapped presents . A bouquet of your favorite flowers rested at the center.

"Sylus…"

You turned to him, but he was already watching you—eyes darker than the night yet filled with something soft, unguarded.

"This is…" You swallowed. "You really did all this for me?"

"I had some help," he admitted. "You deserve more you know - I'd give you the whole world if you asked"

A warm breeze brushed past, carrying the faint sound of city life below, but here, in this moment, it was just the two of you. Sylus sat down, pulling you between his legs, your back resting against his chest. His arms wrapped around you, strong and secure.

"You should know something," he murmured against your hair.

"Hmm?"

"You should know very well that I adore you. There is no love purer than mine." His lips brushed the shell of your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

"You keep saying that."

"Because I need you to believe it."

You turned slightly, enough to see the undeniable sincerity in his gaze. And then—he kissed you. Slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world to memorize the way you tasted.

When he pulled away, a rare smile—genuine, without any teasing— graced his lips.

"Happy Valentines Day, Sweetie."

Just as you were about to say something, a small flutter of wings caught your attention. Perched on the rooftop railing was Mephisto, Sylus’ ever-loyal bird companion. But this time, there was something glinting in its beak—a ring, adorned with a deep red stone.

Sylus, still holding you close, simply chuckled. You turned back to him, eyes wide, heart racing.

Was this what you thought it was?

Sylus smirked, but there was something different in his expression now—a quiet certainty, a promise.

"So…" he drawled, plucking the ring from Mephisto’s beak, twirling it between his fingers.

"How do you feel about forever?"

Rafayel – Painted in Love

"Close your eyes."

You sighed dramatically but obeyed. "If this is another one of your ‘trust exercises,’ I —"

"Shhh,"

The scent of oil paint lingered in the air, a mixture of fresh canvas and something distinctly him. You heard him move, adjusting something before he finally spoke again.

"Open."

Your breath hitched as you saw the painting in front of you. It wasn’t just a simple portrait but rather a masterpiece. The soft glow of your expression, the hidden laughter in your eyes, the way your hand reached out as if grasping for something just out of frame… It was you, seen through Rafayel’s eyes.

"Rafayel…"

"You like it?" he asks casually leaning against the table with a smirk.

"Like it? Raf, it’s… beautiful."

He pushed off the table, stepping closer until he was just a breath away.

"I only paint things that matter to me."

Your heart pounded as his fingers traced a stray streak of paint on your cheek, his touch lingering.

"So… what does that make me?" you whispered.

His lips curved into a knowing smile. "What do you think?"

And when he kissed you, slow and deliberate, like the brush strokes of his painting, you had your answer

Zayne – A Prescription for Love

"An arcade?" you asked, raising an eyebrow at the bright neon lights blinking above you.

"Doctor, this is very uncharacteristic of you."

"You once said Valentine’s Day should be fun and not stressful. I figured this was preferable to another restaurant dinner." Zayne adjusted his glasses, looking unamused, but there was a hint of something softer in his eyes.

"So you do listen when I ramble." You grinned, nudging his arm playfully.

He ignored your teasing, holding out a token. "Pick a game. "

After several failed attempts on the claw machine —on both sides—you somehow managed to win a small plush cat. Grinning you hold it up proudly to show him.

Zayne huffed, crossing his arms. "Statistically, the machine is designed to fail at least—" He stopped mid-sentence when you pressed the plush into his hands.

"Here. A gift. From your incredibly thoughtful and wonderful Valentine’s date."

He blinked, staring at the tiny cat as if it were a foreign object.

"You’re giving this to me?"

"Of course. You need something cute in your life. Maybe in your office? ."

Zayne looked at you then, and for once, his usual guarded expression melted away. His fingers curled around the plush as if it were something precious. His gaze softened, filled with something warm and unreadable.

"I already have that," he murmured, his voice quieter now, more intimate.

Before you could formulate a witty comeback, Zayne stepped closer, his hand tilting your chin up gently.

His touch was precise, deliberate—just like him—but when his lips met yours, the kiss was anything but calculated. It was slow, lingering, filled with an affection he rarely put into words.

When he finally pulled away, he let his forehead rest against yours for a moment, exhaling softly. Then, a smirk tugged at his lips.

"You should win me prizes more often."

You laughed, still a little dazed. "Are you saying I need to bribe you for affection?"

"Not at all," he said smoothly, tucking the plush into his coat pocket before lacing his fingers through yours.

"But if it means I get to kiss you again, I’m not above a little incentive."

Xavier – Dancing Among the Stars

"A spaceship?" you echoed in disbelief as Xavier led you onto the deck of a high-tech vessel docked just outside the city.

"You wanted a unique date," he said with a wink, casually flipping switches on the control panel.

"Thought we could do something different."

Before you could fully process what was happening, the ship’s thrusters roared to life. The world below blurred into streaks of light, and then—silence. Outside the window, space stretched endlessly before you, a vast sea of glittering stars, nebulas swirling in vibrant hues. It was breathtaking, unlike anything you had ever seen.

You turned to Xavier, wide-eyed, your breath stolen by the sheer wonder of it all. "You… stole a spaceship for me?"

He grinned, leaning back against the control panel with that signature devil-may-care charm.

"'Borrowed' is a better word. No one’s using it right now."

"Xavier!"

"Relax, darling ." He chuckled, reaching for your hand, his fingers tracing slow, lazy patterns over your palm.

"I just wanted to give you a view no one else could."

His response was rather nonchalant but beneath it was something deeper, something unspoken.

Your gaze flickered back to the window, the stars blinking like scattered diamonds, the cosmic dust shimmering in soft waves of light.

"This is crazy," you murmured, unable to look away.

"You knew what you were signing up for when you fell for me." His voice was lower now, smooth as velvet. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. The universe stretched out behind him, but all you could see was him—his tousled hair, the mischief in his eyes, the way he was looking at you like you were the most mesmerizing thing in the cosmos.

"Regrets?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You swallowed hard, shaking your head. "None."

A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips. "Good."

And then he kissed you.

It was different this time—unrushed, lingering, like he had all the time in the universe to memorize the feel of your lips against his. The stars outside blurred, forgotten, as warmth spread through you, as his hands slid to your waist, pulling you impossibly close. When he finally pulled away, his breath ghosted against your lips, his hands still holding you as if he had no intention of letting go.

"You know," he murmured, his thumb tracing a slow line along your jaw, "space is beautiful, but even galaxies don’t compare to you."

Your heart pounded. "Xavier—"

He smirked, eyes twinkling like the very stars outside. "What? I’m just saying, if someone told me you hung the stars yourself, I’d believe them."

Your face heated, and he only grinned, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction.

"You’re ridiculous," you muttered, trying to look away, but he caught your chin again, his expression suddenly softer, more sincere.

"I mean it," he said, voice dropping to something quieter. "Out here, in all this endless space, you’re still the only thing I want to get lost in."

And just like that, the universe no longer felt so vast.

Taglist (I think this is the most updated please feel free to send me an ask/dm/fill out my Google form to be added/removed <3)

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[chiara-hotel]

Dating Them: Characters: Tartaglia, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Cyno & Zhongli

Tartaglia:

✧ He will spoil you, you're his treasure, his darling, his partner

✧ Gift-giving is obviously his primary love language, with how much he buys for you

✧ Even if you insist that you don't want something, he'll buy it for you

✧ Tartaglia loves making you flustered in public with his words and his teasing remarks

✧ On that note, his second love language is words of affirmation, telling you how pretty you are or how good you are at something He isn't afraid to tell the world you're his

✧ If you get embarrassed easily, he will do anything to make you embarrassed (in a good way)

✧ Of course, if you get uncomfortable, he knows when to stop; your comfort is always his priority

✧ You guys go out for dinner a lot (he always pays for you)

✧ He loves it whenever you sit on his lap; he always encourages you to do so

✧ Or even if you're in a meeting, then just your legs leaning on his lap is fine

Scaramouche: ✧ He likes it when you steal his hat, though he'd never admit it

✧ When he was in the Fatui, you'd follow him everywhere, even on missions, since he knows he can beat everyone else

✧ While he was in the Fatui, you also worked as his secretary

✧ You both were secretly dating, although Childe found out (though he didn't tell anyone)

✧ Some of the other agents hate you because of how he treats you compared to them

✧ He's also killed at least 10 of his subordinates for various reasons, maybe they hit on you or even straight up looked at you the wrong way

✧ Will cuddle with you occasionally

✧ His main love language is acts of service

✧ This can be seen with the gifts he gives you or protecting you from danger

Cyno

✧ You can never escape his jokes

✧ He never wants to take you on missions in case you get hurt or the enemies take you hostage,

✧ The few times you go with him, he's in full protective mode, although usually he only takes you on the more tame ones

✧ If you do end up getting hurt, he might blame himself a bit while getting Tighnari to take a look at your wounds

✧ Likes hugging you from behind, and hugs in general (cuddling too!)

✧ Cyno loves writing letters for you to open around the house whenever he's gone (a lot of them are just jokes, though)

✧ Both of you are best friends with Tighnari + Collei

✧ His main love language is words of affirmation and physical touch

Tighnari

✧ You help him patrol the forest

✧ If you don't have a vision, he's extra protective over you, though he knows you can also handle yourself

✧ He loves it when you brush his ears/tail, and he always asks you to do it

✧ Tighnari also loves it whenever you hold his tail when you both cuddle

✧ He will hold your hand in front of other researchers or Cyno, but other than that, he keeps PDA to a minimum

✧ The occasional hug is also okay with him

✧ He loves to sleep on your chest/stomach as well

✧ His main love language is physical touch, and secondary would be quality time

Zhongli

✧ You guys go out for tea dates a lot

✧ And you guys go to the Wamin restaurant a lot

✧ He likes holding your hand, public or not, he doesn't mind the PDA

✧ Kisses, though he would like to reserve for when you both are alone

✧ All of the adepti know you, how could they not?

✧ Even Xiao shows respect to you as the husband/wife of Morax, he often wishes you a happy birthday, or a happy lantern rite

✧ Zhongli is a big spoon; he loves cuddling

✧ I'd like to imagine his dragon-features come out while cuddling, and his tail likes to grab your leg

[zygghi]

Hello! First of all, good day/afternoon or evening. Could I make a request if it's not a bother? I'd like something from Clark Kent (2025) x male reader. Maybe where the reader is part of the red lanterns (anger) and the reader maintains a semi-romantic/friends with benefits relationship with Clark in total secret. And during one of their sex sessions, Clark confesses that he's in love with the reader, that he'd like to spend his life with him, that he'd like to take him to meet Pa and Ma and all that. Basically something with a lot of porn and fluff, XD. I hope I wasn't a bother, I apologize if I was.

──୨ৎ── Clark Kent x Masc! Reader: I'll Take You Home To Mom

Summary: You are a Red Lantern who is in a secret friends with benefits relationship with Clark. During one of their sex sessions, Clark starts acting weird around you, confessing that he wants to be more than just a casual fuck for you.

Words: 3,498

Tags: Friends With Benefits, Sex Without Feelings (Supposedly), Fluff and Smut, Red Lantern Reader, Porn With Feelings, Hurt/Comfort, Secret Relationship.

Notes: Anonymous, THANK YOU FOR YOUR REQUEST! You're extremely kind and sweet. Honestly, I wasn't bothered by your request at all.

Open Requests

My Ao3

• ────── ✾ ────── •

Your hips roll slowly against Clark’s, your thighs straddling his waist, the heat of his body radiating up against you like he’s some impossible furnace you can’t escape, and truthfully, you don’t want to. His hands are anchored around your hips, big palms gripping you firmly but not controlling, guiding, almost trembling from the restraint it takes not to just grab and flip you over, fuck you into the mattress the way you know he could if he really let himself.

His lips part with a sharp gasp when your mouth finds his neck, teeth dragging across the warm skin there, and you feel the hitch in his breath when you bite him, hard enough to make a mark but not hard enough to break the skin. Clark doesn’t complain, he never does. He only moans, deep and unguarded, a sound that always makes you want to push him harder, make him beg for more.

It was supposed to be just sex. That’s how it started, anyway. A few stolen nights where you, a Red Lantern, drowning in rage and fire, needed somewhere to burn off the excess and Clark… Clark just couldn’t say no. He told you, back then, that he understood anger, understood the violence you carried inside. That being with you didn’t scare him, not even when you showed up dripping blood from the corners of your mouth or when your ring pulsed like it wanted to rip his heart out. He let you touch him anyway, let you scratch and bite and leave bruises. Maybe it was about release for both of you. Maybe it was about pretending, just for a few hours, that you didn’t exist in two different worlds, him, the golden boy savior of Earth; you, the weapon of rage that the galaxy feared.

Your mouth finds his collarbone, and you bite down again, slower this time, dragging your teeth across his skin like you want to own him, mark him, claim him. Clark gasps beneath you, his back arching off the sheets as his grip on your hips tightens. “God, Ugh…” he breathes, voice rough, his usual calm shattering as your pace on his cock stays torturously slow. You can feel every twitch of him inside you, the steady stretch, the deep, perfect drag that makes your body quake with every roll of your hips. His eyes squeeze shut, his jaw slack, and you realize something, he’s acting different.

Clark always feels, that’s his curse. Even when he’s just supposed to be fucking, he holds you too carefully, he kisses you too long, he whispers things he probably doesn’t mean. But tonight, there’s something more. His hands aren’t just holding your hips, they’re caressing, sliding up your back, cradling your waist, like he can’t get enough of touching you everywhere at once. His lips keep searching for yours between every gasp and moan, his tongue stroking yours like it’s a kiss meant for lovers, not just… whatever the hell this is supposed to be.

Your teeth nip at his jawline, and his head tilts instinctively, granting you more access. You can’t help yourself, you bite down harder than you mean to, dragging a gasp from his throat that’s half pain, half pleasure. His fingers dig into your flesh like he’s grounding himself, like he’s terrified of letting go. You pull back just enough to see him, his flushed face, his eyes blown wide with desire. His expression is raw, open in a way that sends a jolt through your chest.

And that’s when it hits you. Clark looks affectionate. Too affectionate. This isn’t just him being careful with the Red Lantern who could crush him if he slipped. This is something else entirely. His lips part to whisper your name like it’s a prayer, his gaze sweeping your face like he’s memorizing every detail. You lean down and kiss him, slow, messy, biting at his bottom lip until he moans into your mouth, but it doesn’t distract you from the truth, you can feel something shifting.

The sex is good, fuck, it’s always good with him. Clark Kent has a way of making every touch feel like worship, every thrust feel like a promise, even when you both swore it was nothing but a dirty little secret. But tonight, the air is heavier. He keeps gasping your name like he’s afraid you’ll vanish, keeps tracing circles on your lower back with his thumb, keeps holding you like he never wants to let you go. You ride him slow, letting your weight sink down until his cock presses perfectly deep inside you, and the look on his face nearly undoes you. His lips are parted, eyes glazed, chest heaving, and still he looks at you like you’re not just a body above him, you’re everything. And that scares the shit out of you.

“Clark…” you murmur against his lips, half-growl, half-question, but he only answers with another kiss, deeper this time, almost desperate.

His hands slide up your back, one cradling the nape of your neck, the other pressing into your spine to keep you close, as though he can’t stand even an inch of distance between you. You moan into his mouth, your hips picking up just slightly, fucking yourself on him harder now, and his whole body shudders beneath you, a soft gasp leaving his throat. You bite his lip again, tugging until it snaps free, and he groans.

“You’re acting weird, Kent,” you growl, though the words come out shaky, ruined by the pleasure building in your gut.

He smiles at you, soft, tender, with a crack in it like he’s holding back something huge, and his thumb strokes your jaw.

“Can’t help it,” he murmurs, voice ragged, eyes locked on yours like he’s on the verge of saying something else. And that’s when you know: he’s holding something back.

Your thighs were already burning, muscles trembling from how long you’d been working Clark’s cock, dragging yourself up and down on him with slow, delicious rolls of your hips. Every time you sank back down, the weight of him filled you so deep you could barely breathe, a groan torn out of your throat whether you wanted it or not. Clark lay beneath you, big hands framing your waist, guiding your rhythm, holding you like he was terrified you might slip away.

And God, the way he looked at you, like he wasn’t just fucking you, but worshipping you. His eyes were heavy-lidded, mouth parted, cheeks flushed, sweat glistening on his chest. He had that wide-eyed awe, like every single thrust inside you was the most important thing he’d ever done in his life. It wasn’t the usual heat or the desperate release you’d come to expect from these secret rendezvous. No, tonight his gaze was heavy with something else, something warmer, something dangerous. Something that made your stomach clench because it wasn’t supposed to be there.

It was supposed to be just sex. Just sweat, teeth, skin, and the sharp comfort of release. It was supposed to stay hidden, a dirty, forbidden secret that no one would ever know. You were the Red Lantern. He was Superman. That was the unspoken agreement, you’d meet in the shadows, devour each other in silence, and then pretend nothing happened when the sun came up.

But as you rode him, your nails dragging across his chest, his moans breaking against your mouth when you bent to kiss and bite him, you couldn’t ignore it anymore. Clark wasn’t just panting with pleasure. He was clinging to you. His fingers dug into your hips like he needed you to stay, like he was afraid you’d vanish if he let go. Every time your lips brushed his, he chased after you, desperate to taste more. And the worst part? He looked at you like you were his whole fucking world.

You wanted to scoff, to shove him down into the mattress and remind him that this was supposed to be nothing but sex. Friends with benefits, if you could even call it that. Benefits, sure. Friends? Not really. Allies on some days, enemies on others. But never this. Never love.

Still, when he lifted his torso up, arms wrapping tight around your back so he could kiss your shoulder, your neck, your jaw, when he held you like that, you froze. The position changed, your chest pressing against his, his cock buried deeper inside you as your body shifted. You should’ve pushed him back down. Should’ve rolled your eyes, made some cutting remark about how he was being clingy, how he was forgetting the fucking rules. But you didn’t.

You didn’t, because in that moment the warmth of his chest against yours, the heat of his breath on your skin, the way his cock throbbed deep inside you, it felt good. Too good. So instead, you kept moving, slow circles of your hips dragging moans out of both of you. His hands explored your back, your sides, gripping your ass as if to claim you. And you hated yourself for liking it, for letting him kiss you with that intensity.

“Clark…” you muttered against his mouth, half-warning, half-plea.

You wanted to stop him before he went further, before he ruined everything. But then his teeth grazed your lip, and he groaned your name into the kiss, so broken and so desperate you forgot what you were about to say. You thought about pushing him away, snapping that this wasn’t what you signed up for. But the truth was, the idea of hurting him, even emotionally, made your chest ache in a way you weren’t ready to deal with. So you let him cling. You let him love, even if you swore you didn’t want it.

And you kept fucking him, because God help you, the way his cock pulsed inside your ass, the way his chest heaved under your palms as you scratched his skin, the way his breath shuddered when you whispered filthy things against his ear, it was addictive. Clark moaned, arms tight around you, voice breaking as he gasped,

“You feel so fucking good… I don’t ever wanna let you go.”

And that was the problem.

Sweat slicked both of your bodies, your palms flat against his chest as you rode him, dragging cries and curses from both of you.

He looked unfairly beautiful like this, Superman, the symbol of hope, reduced to nothing more than a man begging for it. His eyes, those stupidly blue, soft, all too honest eyes, locked on you as if there was nothing else in the world. His fingers dug bruises into your hips, guiding you, holding you, needing you. You wanted to sneer, to remind yourself it was just sex. A secret. A dirty arrangement. Nothing more. But then his lips parted, and his voice came out raw.

“I don’t—” He gasped, his hips bucking up, shoving his cock deeper into you, making your words dissolve in your throat. “I don’t just want this. I don’t just want sex with you.”

You froze for half a second, your rhythm faltering.

“Clark—”

He shook his head, desperate, his hands gripping your waist tighter.

“No, listen. Please. I… I want you. All of you. I want you to be my boyfriend.”

The words landed like a punch to the chest. You stared down at him, panting, your heart hammering so hard it almost drowned out the sound of his moans.

“You can’t—”

“Yes, I can,” he cut you off, almost frantic, thrusting up into you like his body needed to punctuate every word. “I love you. I’ve been trying not to say it, but fuck, I can’t hold it in anymore. I love you, I want you, I don’t care about anyone else. I want you to meet my parents, I want you to move in with me, I want you to be my husband.”

Your breath caught. Husband. The word was a fucking nuke, dropped right there in the middle of your sweaty, secret little battlefield. Your hips stilled, cock pulsing around him, his length still twitching deep inside you as you just… stopped. His desperate thrusts died out when he realized you weren’t moving anymore, panic flickering across his face.

“Wait—” His voice cracked. He looked terrified, like he’d just ripped open his own chest and shown you his heart and expected you to stomp it. “Don’t look at me like that, please. I know this is supposed to be just sex, but I can’t—fuck, I can’t keep pretending that’s all I want.”

You couldn’t breathe. Nobody had ever said anything like this to you. Nobody had ever looked at you like this, like you weren’t just a body to fuck, a secret to keep, a mistake to bury. Clark wasn’t ashamed. He wasn’t hiding you in the dark. He wanted to drag you into the light. He wanted you, all of you, every part you never thought anyone could want. Your chest tightened, your nails digging into his skin without realizing it. You should’ve laughed, pushed him away, told him he was insane. Reminded him of the rules.

Reminded him that you never signed up for love. But the words stuck in your throat, because deep down, you knew. You knew Clark was different. You knew the way he kissed you, the way he held you after sex, the way his eyes lingered on you when he thought you weren’t looking, it wasn’t just lust. And fuck, as much as you wanted to deny it, you knew you didn’t feel the same way about anyone else.

“Clark…” you whispered, voice hoarse. Your thighs trembled around his hips, your body betraying you by clenching around him even as your brain screamed at you to shut this shit down.

He sat up suddenly, chest pressing flush against yours, arms locking tight around your back. His cock drove even deeper inside you from the shift, and you gasped, fingers scrambling against his shoulders.

“I love you,” he said again, fiercer this time, like a vow. “I want you. I don’t care if the whole world knows. You’re it for me. Do you get that? You’re it.”

You stared into his eyes, wide, overwhelmed. He wasn’t bullshitting you. He wasn’t saying it because the sex was good, or because he was drunk on adrenaline, or because it sounded nice in the moment. He meant it. Every fucking word. And you… didn’t know what to do.

You loved him. Maybe not the way he loved you, not yet, but differently than anyone else. He wasn’t just a partner, wasn’t just a lay. You felt something with him you’d never let yourself feel before. And that scared the living shit out of you. Your hands trembled as you slid them over his chest, up to his neck, cupping his jaw. You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. No snark, no joke, no dismissal. Just silence, because for once, you were completely and utterly caught off guard.

Clark’s cock throbbed inside you, his chest rising and falling against yours, his eyes searching desperately for an answer. And all you could do was sit there, still straddling him, heart hammering, breath shaking, staring into those stupid blue eyes like the ground had just disappeared beneath your feet.

The silence in Clark’s apartment clung to you like a second skin. Not the peaceful kind of silence, no, it was the kind that pressed heavy against your chest, making every breath feel like confession. The bed was a wreck of twisted sheets and damp skin, the air thick with the musk of sex that hadn’t gone anywhere close to where you expected.

Clark’s arms were around you, steel wrapped in warmth, trembling faintly. Not from exhaustion, you knew his body could take ten times what you’d given him, but from something deeper. His voice had been so raw when he broke it open against you, saying words you’d never been prepared to hear:

“I want more than this. I want you. I love you.”

Superman. The golden boy, the savior of worlds, crying into your neck like a man who might break if you pulled away.

You froze. Every instinct screamed at you to detach, to pull back, to smirk and shrug it off “chill out, it’s just sex.” That was supposed to be the deal. It had always been the deal. You fucked, you left, you didn’t get tangled up in each other’s hearts. That was safer. Cleaner. But Clark… Clark never fucking played by the rules. His tears were hot against your throat. His arms clung tighter, as if the sheer pressure of his hold could pin you down to the truth of him. And you hated yourself for it, for the way your chest hurt watching him fall apart, for the way your body betrayed you, not pulling away but kissing him instead. Soft, clumsy kisses along his temple, his wet cheeks, finally his lips. Not promises, not surrender, just a desperate attempt to soothe the impossible.

You didn’t give him an answer. Not that night. The sex sputtered out like a fire doused in cold water, the hunger replaced by something much heavier. The two of you stayed in that tangled bed, your heart still hammering while Clark’s tears soaked your skin. For once, you were grateful he didn’t push. He just held you. And for a man who could crush steel with his bare hands, the way he touched you was terrifyingly gentle.

The following days were hell.

You threw yourself into training, into Red Lantern business, into every excuse you could find to avoid thinking. Rage was easy. Rage was clean. You knew how to aim it, how to let it burn through you until there was nothing left. But silence, silence was where Clark lived, where his voice echoed, where the image of his face broken with tears refused to leave.

At work, you caught yourself zoning out. Once, your coworker had to snap her fingers in front of your face because you’d been staring into space for ten minutes straight, lost in the memory of Clark saying he wanted to take you to meet his parents. His parents. Who the fuck even said that? Who invited a one night stand to Kansas like it was normal? You almost laughed, but the laugh got stuck in your throat. Because it wasn’t funny. It was terrifying.

Nights were worse. You’d lie awake, replaying every detail of that night in his apartment: the way he looked at you like you weren’t just a body, the way he said he wanted more, the way he cried when you didn’t answer. And fuck you, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the way his voice had cracked on love. No one had ever said that word to you like it meant something. Not a soul. And now it sat on your chest like a weight you couldn’t shake.

You tried to tell yourself you didn’t care. You were a Red Lantern, for Christ’s sake. You’d been forged in fire and rage, in loss so deep it hollowed you out. Love wasn’t for people like you. It was for bright things, for good things, things like Clark. And yet, here you were, restless and wired, because deep down you knew you did care. More than you should.

The phone call didn’t happen until nearly a week later. You’d been pacing your apartment for hours, phone in hand, staring at his name on the screen. It felt absurd. You could charge headlong into battle against impossible odds, but one fucking phone call had your palms sweating like a coward. Every time you almost hit “dial,” your chest seized up, your stomach knotted, your brain screamed don’t do it. But that night, alone in the dark, you broke. You hit call before you could stop yourself. The ringing barely had time to sound twice before Clark answered, his voice thick, hopeful, terrified.

“…Hey.”

Your throat went dry. For a second you almost hung up, but you forced the words out, rough and uneven:

“Clark.” Silence stretched between you, unbearable. Then, finally: “I’ve got nothing to lose if I say yes, right?”

The silence on his end was sharp, like the air had been sucked out of the world. And then you heard it, the hitch in his breath, the choked little sob disguised as a laugh.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” His voice cracked in a way that hit you right in the ribs. You swallowed, your pulse hammering like a war drum.

“Yeah. I’m saying yes.”

The phone went quiet again, except for the sound of Clark’s broken, relieved laughter. You could feel him through the line, his whole body unclenching, his chest opening up. It was ridiculous, impossible, terrifying. But for the first time in your life, you let yourself imagine it, him, you, something more than sex, something worth keeping.

[jessesluvr]

I just wanna say- You ate with that angst 😫

The scenario was perfect and I'd love more- maybe the reader and Dina talking? As long as it's okay with you, make sure to eat and drink water!

- Fellow Jesse Lover <3

what comes after (a pt.2) | jesse x reader

✧.* author's note : the amount of JOY i have for making a pt. 2 to this is absolutely immeasurable. yall ever see that picture of the brown chihuahua where it's like sad or something and it's mouth is open and it's like kinda crying? yeah thats me. love you to bits, thank you for mending my heart.

✧.* summary : jesse and the reader slowly rebuild their relationship after months apart, navigating the complicated reality of dina’s pregnancy. with time, acceptance, and honesty, they begin to dream of a future together — one where love, healing, and even their own family might still be possible.

✧.* word count : 2.6k

you still lived on the east side of jackson, in that cold little cabin by the lookout post. the snow had melted months ago, and spring had turned the roads to thick mud, but the cold lingered. not outside — inside.

inside you.

it had been three and a half months since the orchard. since jesse stood under that blooming tree and told you he’d wait. since you walked away before you could let your heart betray you again.

you hadn’t spoken to him since.

he hadn’t tried again.

not out of cruelty — you knew that. jesse had always been gentle. but maybe he finally understood that you needed space. maybe he wanted to give you the choice.

or maybe he didn’t believe you’d ever come back.

you tried not to think about that.

instead, you kept your head down. took longer patrols. worked the stables when no one else wanted to. started fixing old lanterns just to keep your hands busy.

you didn’t ask about him. not when ellie mentioned his name in passing. not when maria dropped off supplies and gave you that careful look, the kind that asked how are you holding up? without saying anything at all.

and you never asked about dina.

but that didn’t stop her from finding you.

it was mid-afternoon. the sun was climbing past the clouds and the whole town smelled like wet hay and fresh earth. you were elbow-deep in a broken fence post behind the library when you heard her voice.

“need a hand?”

you startled.

dina stood a few feet away, arms crossed lightly over her chest, a slight swell beneath her coat.

you hadn’t seen her up close in weeks.

she looked tired, but calm. her hair was pulled back. a smudge of dirt on her cheek. she looked… real. not the ghost that had haunted your quiet grief.

you wiped your hands on your jeans and nodded stiffly toward the fence. “i got it.”

dina didn’t move. just looked at you for a moment.

“i was hoping we could talk,” she said.

you stood slowly. “about what?”

she hesitated. “about jesse. and… about you.”

that hit like a bruise you’d forgotten to cover.

you took a step back. “i don’t think there’s anything left to say.”

“there is,” she said quietly. “i just need five minutes.”

you looked at her — really looked. the girl who had unknowingly fractured your world, who was carrying the future you once wanted. you expected to feel bitter.

but all you saw was someone trying.

so you nodded.

she exhaled. “can we sit?”

you led her to a bench around the side of the stable. no one else was around — just the creak of weathered wood and the distant sound of kids laughing somewhere in the town square.

she lowered herself carefully, one hand brushing her stomach.

you waited.

dina didn’t speak right away. her eyes stayed forward, on a distant tree.

“i know you probably hate me,” she said.

you blinked. “i don’t.”

she looked at you.

“i wanted to,” you admitted. “but i don’t.”

dina gave a small, sad smile. “that’s probably more grace than i deserve.”

you stayed silent.

she took a breath. “i never meant to hurt either of you. when i found out… i thought about leaving. just packing up and going to one of the outer camps.”

you turned to her, surprised.

“i didn’t want to ruin what you had,” she said. “you and jesse… it was obvious. everyone could see how happy he was. how much he loved you.”

you swallowed hard.

“but i stayed,” she continued. “because this baby deserves to have a father nearby. not… not because i wanted jesse back. that chapter ended long before you came along.”

you didn’t know what to say. so you just let her speak.

“i saw how you looked at him,” dina said softly. “and i saw how he looked at you. like the sun rose with your smile. like he’d never loved anyone like that before.”

the words burned.

“even now,” she said, “when your name comes up… he still flinches. like he’s lost his compass.”

your throat tightened.

dina turned to you then, serious and calm. “jesse loves you. that never changed. i don’t think it ever will.”

you closed your eyes.

“i’m not telling you this to guilt you,” she added quickly. “or to push something that isn’t right. but i need you to know… if i had to choose someone to help raise this kid alongside him — someone with patience and strength and enough love to hold all the broken parts together — i’d choose you.”

you looked at her, stunned.

“you’d choose me?”

she nodded. “in a heartbeat.”

silence bloomed.

“i hated myself for being jealous,” you whispered. “of your pregnancy. of your place in his life.”

dina’s voice was gentle. “it’s okay to grieve what you lost. even if no one meant to take it.”

you swallowed. hard.

“i’m not asking you to step in,” she said. “i’m just saying… if you ever decide to come back, there’s still a place for you. he’d never close the door on you.”

the bench creaked when she stood.

she gave you a final look — soft, but firm.

“talk to him,” she said. “please.”

then she turned and left, boots crunching over gravel, a quiet strength in her stride.

you sat there long after she disappeared.

the breeze stirred your hair. somewhere nearby, a horse whinnied. the world moved on.

but you stayed still.

and for the first time in months… the wall inside you began to crack.

you waited two more days.

two long, quiet, aching days.

you told yourself you needed time to think, to make sure you weren’t just chasing the echo of something that had already died. but the truth was simpler, more fragile:

you were scared.

scared to see him. scared of the look on his face. scared he’d moved on — or worse, that he hadn’t.

but dina’s words clung to you.

he still loves you. he never stopped.

and for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like a cruel reminder. 

it felt like permission.

so on the third day, just before dusk, you walked to jesse’s house.

same porch. same window. same wind chimes — the ones he hung for you last fall, whispering music every time the breeze passed through.

you stood there for a long time. one foot on the step.

and then you knocked.

the door opened faster than you expected.

jesse was barefoot. his hair tousled, sleeves pushed up to the elbows like always, a smudge of ink on the side of his hand. his eyes landed on you — and for a moment, everything in him froze.

then his mouth opened. no sound came out.

he looked like he couldn’t decide if he should speak or step back and pull you in.

you spoke first.

“can i come in?”

he nodded, too quickly. “yeah. yeah, of course.”

you stepped inside. the air smelled like cedar and coffee. familiar. too familiar.

he watched you like you might vanish.

you took in the living room. the blanket you used to steal was still draped over the arm of the couch. there was a mug on the table — half full. a soft hum on the record player, something low and slow and wordless.

you turned to him. he hadn’t stopped staring.

“i talked to dina,” you said.

jesse’s brow lifted. “she told me.”

“she said…” you exhaled. “she said you still love me.”

his eyes darkened — like he was afraid it was a test.

“i do,” he said, voice rough. “god, i do.”

your chest cracked open.

“i didn’t stop,” he added. “even when you left. even when i didn’t see you. you were still…” he shook his head. “everything.”

“i was angry,” you admitted. “at everything. at myself. at the timing. at how unfair it all felt.”

“i know,” he said softly.

“and i didn’t think i could do it,” you whispered. “be okay with it. be okay with you having a first kid with someone else. with that whole part of your life not being mine to share.”

he stepped closer, slowly. like he didn’t want to spook you.

“but it’s not just about who had the baby first,” you went on, voice shaking. “it’s about whether you still see me. want me. whether we still have… anything.”

“we do,” he said, instantly. “we always did.”

you looked up at him, and for a second it felt like standing in the orchard again — like the last few months hadn’t passed at all.

but they had. and you were different now. more cracked around the edges. more careful.

still, you stepped forward.

jesse didn’t move. just let you close the space between you.

“i don’t want to come second,” you said quietly.

“you don’t,” he said, just as quiet. “you’re the center of it.”

your throat tightened.

“i know it won’t be simple,” he added. “and i won’t pretend this fixes everything. but i’m here. i’m in this. if you are.”

the moment stretched. then you reached out.

your hand found his. his fingers curled around yours like they never forgot the shape of you.

“i want to try,” you whispered. “if we’re both really in it. i want to try.”

he closed the distance then — not in a rush, not in hunger, just in complete, overwhelming relief. his forehead pressed to yours.

“i missed you so much,” he breathed. “every fucking day.”

you smiled, tears in your lashes. “me too.”

and then, finally, his mouth met yours.

it wasn’t like the first kiss — tentative and wondering. this was older. wetter. messier. it tasted like salt and hope and months of silence breaking open.

when he pulled away, your breath was shaking.

“we’ll figure it out,” he said. “together.”

you nodded.

the porch light flickered on outside as dusk deepened, but neither of you moved. you just stayed there in the hush, forehead to forehead, trying to find all the lost pieces of what you used to be.

and slowly, gently, putting them back together.

three weeks later

jackson was blooming again.

the air smelled like pine and soil and new life. people were planting gardens. kids were chalking up the sidewalks. there was a rumor going around that the bar was getting a second guitar — ellie had already claimed it, obviously.

you were sitting on a bench outside the town hall, watching as jesse approached with a short crate of supplies balanced on his hip. you rose to meet him halfway.

“need a hand?”

he grinned, eyes sparkling. “only if it means i get to flirt with you while we work.”

you snorted, taking the crate from him anyway.

it was like that now — easy, almost. or… getting there. the weight of everything hadn’t vanished, but it no longer crushed you. it lived in the quiet between you and jesse, in the way he reached for your hand when he thought you weren’t looking. in the way you sometimes paused when walking past the old orchard.

but there was joy too.

there was healing in the way he held you at night, murmuring about the future — a quiet house, a dog, maybe even a family. he never pushed. he only ever said: “if it’s you, i want it all.”

and you believed him.

even now, as you followed him across town to the stables, where dina was waiting.

she stood outside, hand on her back, one foot braced up on a bale of hay.

seven and a half months along now.

she looked up as the two of you arrived and smiled — warm, open. the tension that once crackled between the three of you had softened into something workable. not friendship, exactly. but trust.

“hey,” she greeted.

“hey,” jesse said. “got your stuff.”

he passed her the last of the wood sealant and leaned casually against the post. you stood beside him, trying not to fidget.

then dina’s hand dropped to her stomach and she winced.

“you good?” jesse asked, immediately alert.

“yeah,” she exhaled. “he’s just doing backflips again.”

your chest pulled tight at the word he.

you looked away, swallowing hard — but not fast enough.

dina caught it.

she shifted her weight, then offered you a surprisingly gentle look.

“wanna feel?” she asked softly.

you froze.

“i… i don’t want to overstep.”

“you’re not,” she said.

jesse said nothing — didn’t push, didn’t lean in. just stood steady beside you like he always did now.

you stepped forward.

dina guided your hand gently to the side of her belly, where the baby had just kicked. a firm, fluttering tap against your palm.

your breath caught.

it was strange — surreal, even. to be allowed in like this. to hold a piece of the future, even if it wasn’t yours.

when you looked up, jesse was watching you.

and the way he looked at you in that moment — like his heart was lodged in his throat — made your eyes sting.

you dropped your hand, stepped back, trying to breathe past it.

and then you heard it — jesse’s voice, casual but sincere.

“she’s gonna be a big part of his life,” he said, to dina. “if that’s still okay.”

dina smiled, quiet and certain. “that’s exactly what i want.”

the words hit you like a wave. and suddenly, ellie’s voice rang out across the square.

“oh my god, if you all start crying i’m walking straight into the lake.”

you turned to see her standing nearby, arms full of gardening gloves, a smirk on her face.

behind her, maria gave her a look and elbowed her lightly in the ribs. “let them be, smartass.”

ellie rolled her eyes but waved at you with a tiny grin. “hey, congrats on the most complicated family tree in jackson.”

jesse gave a mock bow. “thank you, thank you. we’re considering a reality show next.”

laughter broke the tension, and just like that — the moment passed. or maybe it transformed.

because now there were people around, voices and warmth and movement, and you realized:

this was real.

this was happening.

that night

you were curled up in jesse’s bed, the covers tangled around your legs and the window cracked open to let in the breeze.

his hand lay warm and steady on your stomach, thumb tracing idle patterns.

“did that freak you out today?” he asked gently.

“no,” you murmured. “it… surprised me. but it didn’t hurt. not the way it used to.”

he kissed your shoulder. “you were incredible.”

“she trusts me,” you said softly. “that means something.”

“it means everything,” he replied. “but not as much as you and me. that’s still the center.”

you turned to face him.

his eyes were open, steady, filled with that same love — the kind that never dimmed, even when you walked away.

“jesse,” you whispered, voice trembling, “do you still want kids? with me?”

he reached up and tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

“i want whatever you want,” he said. “but yeah. yeah, i do.”

you closed your eyes, pressing your forehead to his. “i want a boy. i always have.”

he smiled. “then i hope he has your eyes. and your smart mouth.”

you laughed, tearful and soft. “he’d be doomed.”

“nah,” jesse murmured. “he’d be the luckiest kid alive.”

you kissed him.

and this time, there was no bitterness in it. no fear. just the future, unfolding one heartbeat at a time.

[yanyandam]

It's me again 😩 will you indulge me again?? Like a scenario where hanma realizes he's falling for you and how he deals with it (I'd imagine he wouldn't know how to handle it). I appreciate youu!! 💖

HIII dw i love getting requests. I did my best here, tbh i dont really know how he would DEAL with it but i just knew it'd be pretty random. BTW THIS IS PRETTY SHORTTT but i have a lot of projects ongoing

CALL THE 911, I THINK A GANGSTER JUST FELL IN LOVE- Hanma Shuji

For years now, you had known Hanma. Well, “known” was a strong word. You weren’t friends. You weren’t close. Hell, you weren’t even acquaintances. At best, you were just two people who happened to exist in the same city. But still, his presence was impossible to ignore. You were a rebellious girl, a troublemaker. You ran in the same streets he did, sometimes crossing paths with him in the tangled mess of Kabukicho’s underworld. A glance. A smirk. A shared laugh once, maybe twice. Nothing more, nothing less. Because at the end of the day, he was no one to you. Just another delinquent, just another street rat clawing his way through the filth of Tokyo’s underground. Just the Reaper of Kabukicho. A stray dog, like the rest of them.

—

Tonight was the autumn festival. The night was alive with color, lanterns swaying gently in the crisp autumn breeze, casting flickering shades of gold and red across the crowded festival grounds. The air smelled of grilled meat, soy sauce, and the sweet, burnt aroma of candied apples. Laughter mixed with the sound of taiko drums, the chaotic energy of the festival making the streets feel smaller, more cramped, more alive.

And Hanma? Hanma was fucking bored.

He walked through the crowd like a stray dog, hands shoved deep in the pockets of his loose pants, his sharp, lazy gaze scanning the sea of people with disinterest. He hadn’t even wanted to be here, but the idea of spending the night doing absolutely nothing had somehow seemed even worse. Besides, he was hungry, and he had exactly zero yen on him. So when he spotted you standing at one of the food stalls, dressed up like some old-school festival girl in a proper kimono, he saw an opportunity.

He smirked to himself, cracking his knuckles idly as he approached from behind, moving through the crowd like a shadow.

“Hey.” His voice, deep and smooth yet carrying that usual bored, detached tone, cut through the noise. You jumped. He watched with amusement as you turned sharply, your startled eyes widening before settling on him, a lanky, towering bastard who looked completely out of place amidst the festival-goers. His outfit? An absolute ‘fuck you’ to the entire concept of dressing appropriately. White t-shirt, simple pants, and flip-flops. Because why the hell would he care? He could’ve shown up in nothing but boxers and still not given a shit.

He barely acknowledged your reaction before his gaze dragged over your attire, eyes flicking up and down with something caught between amusement and mockery. “What the hell are you wearing? You look even more ridiculous than usual.” His words were calm, casual, and punctuated by that lazy smirk of his, like he was barely holding back laughter.

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “It’s called being in the theme, Shuji.” The smirk dropped. His eyes darkened, and that lazy amusement in his face vanished in an instant, replaced by something sharper.

“You know, it’s pretty fucking rude to use my first name when we’re not even close.”

You grinned. "Okay then, Shuji." A sharp laugh burst out of him, an almost delighted glint flashing through his golden eyes before he clicked his tongue. “Shit, you really don’t give a fuck, huh?” He couldn’t say it didn’t amuse him. Ah, thank god you were a woman. Either way you’d already be in hell by now. Hanma leaned in slightly, towering over you with that ever-present smirk. His presence was suffocating, not in the romantic way, but in the way that made you feel like you had just cornered yourself into some kind of trap without even realizing it. He flicked a glance at the steaming food you had just bought, his stomach grumbling slightly. His lazy expression barely changed, but his intentions were clear. “Hey, buy me something.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You heard me. I’m starving. Gimme some food.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why the hell would I do that?”

He shrugged, as if the answer should’ve been obvious. “‘Cause I asked nicely.”

“That wasn’t nice.”

He grinned, the kind of grin that made it impossible to tell whether he was actually amused or just thinking about how easy it’d be to fuck with you for the rest of the night. Then, without warning, he snatched the stick of dango straight from your hands, popping one of the sweet, sticky rice balls into his mouth before you could even react. “Oh wow, thanks. You’re so generous.”

Your jaw dropped. “You asshole!”

“What? You weren’t gonna finish it anyway.” You were. You absolutely were. But Hanma just kept chewing, acting as if stealing food was the most normal, natural thing in the world.

“You know, you could just do the smart thing and buy me my own.” He tilted his head, watching your expression with something smug. “Or, I could just start robbing every single thing you try to eat tonight. Your choice.”

You clenched your jaw, debating whether smacking the damn stick out of his hand would be worth the risk of starting some kind of festival brawl, although that would be synonym of suicide. But then, an idea. “Fine,” you said sweetly, reaching into your sleeve. Hanma’s smirk grew as he watched you pull out your wallet. “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?” And then you threw a single, shiny five-yen coin at his chest. It bounced off uselessly, landing on the ground between his feet.

Hanma slowly looked down at the coin.

Then, back up at you. For a moment, you swore you saw something absolutely feral flicker behind his eyes.

Oh!

He laughed. Loud. The kind of laugh that turned a few festival-goers’ heads, that made people uneasy, as if they had just heard something they shouldn’t have. “You’ve got a fucking death wish, huh?”

You smiled sweetly. "Guess I do."

If Hanma was bored before, he sure as hell wasn’t now. The night was no longer about scamming free food or passing the time, it was about you. About seeing how far he could push you, how much of his shit you’d tolerate before snapping, how much trouble you’d let him drag you into before realizing it was a mistake. You were dumb enough to play along. Hanma didn’t just follow you around after that. Every time you stopped at a stall, he’d be right there, making some dry, sarcastic remark about whatever you were trying to buy. He stole food off your plate. He rummaged through your bag when you weren’t looking just to see what dumb shit you carried around. At one point, he "accidentally" bumped into some dude while pretending to be distracted, just to see if you’d stick around when things got messy. You did. Unfortunately. Dumbass.

He was the literal embodiment of chaos, and you had somehow ended up stuck with him for the rest of the festival. You weren’t entirely sure you minded.

Because as much as Hanma was an egoistic, reckless, adrenaline-junkie freak who got off on pushing people’s buttons…Something about the way he smirked at you, the way his sharp, violet eyes glinted with real amusement, real interest, made it feel like maybe, just maybe, you were more than just another distraction to him. Maybe tonight, you were his favorite one.

The game was still on.

Hanma had spent the last hour stealing bites of your food, making crude jokes, seeing how much shit he could pull before you either snapped or walked away. But you never did. Instead, you kept pushing back. Talking back. Challenging him in ways most people wouldn’t dare. It wasn’t that you didn’t know who he was, because you did. You knew his reputation, knew he wasn’t just some dumbass punk but an actual menace. And yet, you never flinched. He liked that.

But did he love it? Oh my god, did someone say ‘love’? That word? No. That wasn’t in the equation. Not yet.

That moment, that sick, twisted realization, came later.

It happened at one of those dumb festival game stalls. The kind where the prizes were cheap, colorful crap no one actually needed. Some stuffed animals, little plastic toys, a few random trinkets that looked like they’d break within a week. Hanma wasn’t paying much attention, until you picked up a mask. A demon mask. The kind with sharp fangs, hollowed-out eyes, painted red and black like something straight out of a nightmare. You put it on without hesitation, adjusting the strings behind your head before turning to face him. A slow, unsettling grin spread across his face. “Well, well. Didn’t know you had a thing for looking like a fucking psychopath.”

You tilted your head, voice slightly muffled behind the mask. “Funny. You don’t seem scared.”

His smirk widened. “You know me, sweetheart. Fear’s not really my thing.”

You stepped closer. Too close. Your face, or rather, the demon mask, was just inches from his, the hollow eyes staring him down like a challenge. And then, in the most calm, quiet voice, you said: “That’s the problem with you, Shuji. You think you don’t feel fear. But I bet you do. I bet there’s something out there that makes your heart race in a way you don’t like. You just haven’t met it yet.”

Hanma just stood there. Still smirking, still looking down at you with that usual amusement, but for the first time in a long time, he actually felt something flicker in his chest. Something weird. Because the way you said itn it wasn’t teasing. It wasn’t some dumb joke or a casual taunt. It was a fact. A statement so solid and unshakable that for a split second, it felt like you weren’t just talking about him. You were predicting him. And he fucking hated it. Because for once, the thrill that rushed through him wasn’t from adrenaline. It wasn’t from a fight. It wasn’t from danger. It wasn’t from violence or chaos or watching someone squirm.

It was from you.

The way you stood there, unshaken. The way your voice was calm but sharp. The way you wore that demon mask like it was the most natural thing in the world, like you weren’t just wearing it, you were becoming it. It was hot. Not just hot. It was terrifyingly, addictively fascinating. For the first time in forever, Hanma felt like he had just lost a round of his own game. He liked it.

And that was the moment he knew.

That sick, twisted realization that hit him like a drug. He wanted more. More of this. More of you. More of whatever the hell had just happened in that split second, because if there was anyone out there who could actually fuck with his head, it was you. Hanma loved a good mindfuck.

Maybe he fell because you made him feel something he wasn’t supposed to. Something that almost felt like fear, but worse. Love was so much worse.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by your voice. “Shuji, you comin’ or no?”

He didn’t speak.

“Damn Shuji, you’re getting too soft!”

Oh oh, call 911. A gangster just fell in love.

Hanma fucking hated it. That weird, sinking feeling in his chest, the one that wasn’t excitement, wasn’t adrenaline, wasn’t the usual thrill of wrecking shit just to see what happens. It was soft. It was slow. It didn’t go away. Every time he looked at you, every time you smirked at him, talked back, threw his own chaos right back in his face, it crept up again. This fucked-up warmth that made his fingers twitch, made his usual cocky remarks feel forced, made him want to grab you by the jaw and shut you up with something reckless just to feel normal again. But he didn’t.

Instead, he laughed it off. Pretended it wasn’t there. Drowned it in fights, in cheap thrills, in anything that made his pulse race fast enough to confuse it for something else.

Because Hanma didn’t do soft. He didn’t do love. You were turning him into a goddamn liar.

[colorquest]

~☆~

D: Okay so D: Michael. D: What's up with that hat?🔆

M: My hat...? D: Ah, the act of innocence, the act of ignorance... D: I. Have. Neeeeeeever seen you wear a hat before. D: It's so not your M.O. V: He's wearing a hat? D: Like, seriously. D: A backwards baseball cap? D: Did your mommy tell you it was cute like that or something? V: LOL S: Debbie!

M: *snort* M: You're too funny sometimes, D... M: But you're right, I almost never wear hats. M: This one just worked for me, you know? M: With the opening in the back and all. D: Can't even wear it properly.......... M: I know u_u. M: But yeah, I got this a couple days back when I went to that concert with my mama. V: So she did tell you it was cute, then? M: Ahhh... yeah, she did. V: hehehhueueh S: I think it looks very nice on you, Michael. M: Haha, you don't gotta tell me again. M: But thank you. D: WAIT. D: ..........That shade of purple............................... D: WAS IT THE DAGGERBREATH CONCERT?????????? M: Yeah it was! D: I thought I saw you putting up a poster earlier too, was that--🔆 M: I got that at the concert too, yeah! D: May I... see it... M: Sure, hold on, I think you'll really like this one actually.

M: See, they were premiering their new album, with the dragony album art and theme and all. D: WHAT THE HECK! D: LUCKY?! D: THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN ME. D: THAT SHOULD HAVE BEEN MEEEEEEEEEEE WHO WENT! M: Remember I did invite you to come with, D. D: YEAH but nobody else wanted to come. D: And as IF I'd be caught hanging out with just you and your mom. D: Like, come on. M: Well uh, you know if you want... M: While I'm a little too attached to the poster to give it up, you could take this hat from me next time we meet up? M: I'm not feeling it too much anyways. S: What? S: Noooo! S: It works so well on you though-- D: "It's a DEAL my liege, I'll TAKE it!" D: That is to say, D: Uh, YEAH? GIMMIE??? M: Ahaha, oh, so you've listened to their new album already then? D: Of course, who do you think I am? D: Some kind of POSER? M: Well, maybe a... "poser with all heart, no soul~" D: "TAKE A SMOKE OR MAYBE TWO AND FEEL THE ASHES TAKE CONTROL!!!!!!!" V: BUH V: You guys and your punk metal. V: Can't you listen to something a little more upbeat, maybe? S: (I don't understand it either Vilmr, but let them have their fun!)

D: Vilmr, comments like that are exactly why you gotta start breaking away from Maja a little more. D: You're gonna end up sounding just like her if you're not careful. V: Lättare sagt än gjort! V: You try being yourself when you have to listen to THIS nonstop! V: Listen!

V: Nag nag nag, right?! D: Yeah okay but that doesn't mean you gotta start nagging too -_-. S: Yeesh Vilmr, it's no wonder you get so anxious, I'd die if my parents kept calling me like that all day. V: The caring guardian... V: She eats away at your psyche like no other. D: Okay well stop listening to your cell then. D: Like, put it away for a while, that's what I do. V: I can't just not have it on me Debbie. D: Sure you can! D: Give it to me, get some freaking peace of mind for once. V: Agh! V: ...Only if you promise to give it back when I ask this time. D: Psssh, totally. D: After the eclipse, of course.

D: Hey what the heck are those lights outside your window? S: Oh wow, look! S: Sky lanterns, how pretty! M: Oh! M: I guess we're not the only ones celebrating the eclipse around here then, huh? M: Haha... D: We're not celebrating the eclipse okay, we're not cultists. D: I mean I'm not at least. D: Michael. M: Wh! D: I just wanna see it happen, it's on my bucket list you know. S: I wonder what the lanterns are really for...? M: Well, I do have a neighbor or two who are a little more on the moony side... M: Maybe that's them? M: What is it about an eclipse that's so special for some people, I wonder? S: It's like, symbolic, right? S: Like the moon represents a god, or... V: Ah, I know this! V: It is not the moon that represents a god, it is the essence they bring. M: Oh? V: Yeah. D: Oh boy, here we go... V: So basically, the reapers of the moon, the "cultists," they believe that this eclipse will um, awaken their god. V: And that god is just like, just a person right now, and nobody knows who it is, but it's someone out there. V: When this eclipse happens, it is supposed to awaken them. V: That person will be ascended to godhood, or so they believe. V: And then that god will release an uncontrollable wave of darkness across Theia.

D: Yeah so, evil cult shit. V: No, not evil. D: DARKNESS Vilmr. D: Darkness is always the bad side. V: Debbie, maybe it is you who needs to open your mind. D: Oh, what next, are you gonna tell me Varth Dader was a good guy? M: Is it like, the darkness would make us appreciate the light better, or something? M: I'm struggling to understand how that'd be a thing to... celebrate. V: Well according to the reapers, once the darkness sets in, their counter-god of light will also awaken. V: Then that god will release a wave of light around the world. V: And then the world will be in perfect harmony. V: So I think the eclipse is supposed to represent like, the wave of darkness. V: And then after it's done, it gets light again, and that represents the balancing out? V: Maja could probably explain this better than me. S: Wow, that's actually pretty beautiful to think about :o V: Ja, sure. V: But most believers end up drugging themselves to death somewhere down the line. V: Something about their souls becoming part of their god's essence. S: oh M: Jeez, that's intense. V: Yeah, there's a lot more nuance to it but I don't know all the details. M: Wow. M: Uh. M: ...Maja isn't thinking of-- V: Nej nej nej, she's different. V: She sees this all in a different way. V: Though it is hard to not worry about what might happen around the world, as a result of their beliefs...🔆 D: Hey uh sorry not sorry to interrupt this super duper interesting talk but, D: Are you guys seeing the stream?

D: It's getting so freaking close. S: OvO M: Fifteen more minutes until it starts! S: I'd love to be there in person, that looks so pretty. M: Well we should mark down the date five years from now to see the next one then. V: And hope that it is not happening above forbidden land. M: Oh yeah, that too, haha.

<[Last] || [Next]>

🔆

[the-fiction-witch]

Little Girl

Media TMR

Character Newt

Couple Newt X Reader

Rating Smut!

Semi-NonConsentual / Breast play / Nipple play / fingering / eating out / raw sex / jizz / creampie / riding /

I sat pouting. Surrounded by stone in one of the slammer cells. My wrists tied together with harsh rope. The boys had thrown me in here for three nights with no food given what I did. But he deserved it, the little perv! But they didn't listen to my side. All Alby needed to know was I harmed another glader and thus I'm locked in here. I saw light approaching the glimmering spark of gold and red flame getting closer it was long since dinner so most boys would be in bed I didn't want to look expecting another lecture from Alby but no.

"Hi love" 

My neck snapped fast towards the wooden cage door where he now sat the lantern beside him. His little brown shoes in the dirt, a wrap around his bad ankle, his brown tattered trousers, his orange vest just poking over his once white hoodie, his bandage around his arm and his messy blonde hair, he leant on the wooden cage and smiled down at me 

"What the shucking hell do you want!"

"Just popped by to check your comfy little girl"

"Don't call me that!"

"Why not? You're a girl? And you ever so cute and wh-ittle" 

"What do you want newt?"

"Well… perhaps seeking an apology?"

"An apology!"

"Yes"

"You've got more of a chance of marrying a griever than getting an apology out of me for what you did!"

"Awww come on. I was only playing"

"You hid in the showers! Your lucky you only for off with a few bruises before the boys found us. They left me any longer I'd have broke your nose" 

"I was meerly checking the shower was safe for a little girl"

"Liar you little perv!"

"Fine maybe I was in there but that's no excuse for you to hit me like that"

"What do you want? Because you can shove your apology up your blonde British butt" 

"Fine" he smirked as he began untieing and opening the door jumping down to be inside with me and shutting the door again "hi little girl"

"What do you think your doing"

"Well… when a little girl is locked up in the slammer with her denying hands tied up, you can't blame me for not wanting to waste… such an opportunity" he smirked 

"Oh no you -" I began trying to move but he grabbed me wrapping his arms around me sitting me on his lap with his chest against my back

"Ah ah ah little girl. Let's just stay here a little while just you and me" he smirked 

"You so anything I'll scream so loud all the boys will here"

"No you won't. Because if you do I'll tell them I came to tell you how I forgave you and you flipped out and attacked me. Your on thin ice as it is Alby will banish you for that"

"You evil little bastard"

"Humm if that's what you wanna call me love" he smirked his hands quickly finding my breasts 

"Ughh! Newt stop!"

"Why should I? Ummm trust me you felt these you wouldn't wanna stop either" he growled in my ear as he fondled and squeezed my breasts often holding them to feel the weight of them in his hands, making sure he squeezed tight. He ignored my squirms and whines shifting me back to sit so his erection sat against my ass

"You're a disgusting little perv newt!"

"I know, but how am I meant to help myself?" He smirked purposely pinching my nipples and tugging on them to force them to harden and as soon as they did he grabbed my breasts in his hands and rubbed in my nipples with his thumbs he chuckled evily "what a cute little girl you are? When your pouting like you don't like it"

"Newt let me go!"

"Maybe I would if you tell me you don't like it, sitting here above my cock grinding on me, while I play with these sexy tits." He smirked and I staid silent "I didn't think you could you dirty little girl" he smirked twisting my nipples a little

"AHH that hurts!"

"Yeah? Well I've had to walk around the glade with a hard on since you got here. Don't you think that hurts love?" He smirked starting to slightly hump against my ass and his hands moved to the hem of my shirt forcing it off me 

"Newt!"

"Awww it's okay, no need to be shy, nothing I haven't seen before." He smirked "but… bloody hell you look good with your top off" He smirked grabbing them much harder

"What the hell do you mean!"

"Well… let's just say this wasn't the first time I've snuck in your shower" he whispered

"You perv!"

"Can you blame me ? How is anyone meant to resist you little girl?"

"Everyone else does!"

"You really think that? You should hear the boys when you go walking around in shorts. Humm were all like lions in heat around you" 

"Let me go"

"No way love" he smirked moving a hand down to undo my shorts and forcing his fingers inside rubbing under my panties "awww I can feel how wet you are little girl" 

"Slim it!"

"Ohh yeah, you dirty little thing" he growled groping my breast hard and rubbing on my clit clearly trying to move his fingers lower but I clamped my legs shut "awww no no. Let's keep this nice and wide for me little girl" he smirked forcing my legs apart 

"Let me go!"

"Now where is… AHH there you are. Let's see how bad my little girl is craving me really" he growled as his fingers found my entrance and as much as I tried to resist he pushed two fingers are first just inside then pushing as deep inside as he could flicking his fingers as he did making me squeal but he clamped a hand over my mouth "ohh shuck you're dripping down my hand y/n. This is gonna be fun" he smirked biting his lip as his hand held me tightly and his fingers worked mercilessly finger fucking me fast and hard letting my wetness drip down my legs he held my mouth so I couldn't scream even If is hand left sometimes to fondle my breasts as he worked clearly very much enjoying himself until he pulled his hand away and licked his fingers clean "ummmm you taste good little girl. I want more" he growled pushing me off his lap and into the dirt on my stomach he wasted no time slapping my ass hard "ughhh oohh yeah. You bad bad girl" he growled forcing my shorts down slapping me a good few times "you have no clue how much I wanna do this every time this teasing little ass walks past in the gardens." He smirked pulling my panties to the side "awww what a cute little pussy for a cute little girl" he smirked and he then began spanking me hard digging his nails in and spreading my cheeks as much as he could and I felt my wetness drip out of me "ohhh bloody hell- my dirty little girly" he growled before he began kissing and licking my exposed pussy moaning too himself as he did I did my best not to scream but at the same time I was so worried if someone found us like this when he pulled back he smirked and pushed me onto my back and forced my legs as wide as possible "ummmmm you are beautiful" he growled licking his lips before holding my thighs tightly and returning to his passionate licking and now sucking even at times using his tounge to replace his fingers all while I squirmed and tried to hide the pleasure of it his hand moved up grabbing my breast fondling and rubbing on my nipple as he locked and sucked 

"Newt stop please-"

"Awww why? My little girl gonna cum for me? Make sure you tell me I wanna watch you twitch and squeal when you cum for me" he demanded 

"Stop please!"

"Maybe I'll stop once I see my life girl naked" he demanded ripping my bra off and my panties I did my best with my tied hands to hide myself but that only seemed to amuse him more "let me see little girl." He smirked forcing my hands above my head "bloody hell… uhhhh shuck- just look at that body. I should walk you around the glade naked so every boy can get a look just how good you are"

"No please-"

"Aww that's okay, it can be our little secret. My little girls bodies all mine" he growled fondling, pinching, slapping, groping anything he could get his hands on which was unfortunately everything even tickling me to make me squirm more for him all with his evil low laugh "what a fun little toy you are little girl. But I've had enough toying" he growled moving bayabs undoing his pants pushing them down enough to reveal his erection "come on."

"No!"

"Your gonna ride me. Or I'm forcing you in your stomach make your mind up"

I pouted but went over sitting on his lap letting him stroke my ass as I sat there 

"Awww what a good little girl your being for me. Maybe all this time all you needed wa a good fuck" he smirked pulling my cheeks apart before he found his way inside me "uuuuuuuhhh! So tight! Ohh yeah! You are a tight little fuck aren't ya? Don't worry I'll loosen you up little girl" he smirked holding my hips to make me bounce on him admittedly it was amazing but I didn't want to give him the satisfaction of my pleasure as he was he smirked staring at my breasts as I bounced "you know if you ever want out of some garden work? I'm more then happy to strike up a deal little girl."

*What sort of deal?"

"how about you get to blow off weeding if you blow me. Or I'll let you have an extra break for a few slaps on that sexy ass. Hummm I'll even let you get off work early so long as my little girl comes and bounces on my cock in the garden shed" be smirked 

"Not on your life"

"No? Why are you still bouncing then little girl?" He smirked and I noticed he has adopted guiding me completely his hands just in my ass 

"You pervy bastard"

"I know, so? Im not far off you want me to bury it? Glaze your tummy? Or you wanna get on your knees and let me fill your mouth up?" 

"Just a little longer"

"Yeah? How about I just bury it in your pretty pussy and let my baby ride on me as much she needs Hu?" He smirked 😘 my neck and jaw I nodded and he only smirked more "yeah? That what my little girl wants? Humm If you cum on my cock I'll know how bad you want me. And I'll never leave this sexy body alone again" he smirked slapping my ass

"You started this!"

"Yeah and if you want to cum you have to admit you love it."

"And if I do?"

"Then your mine little girl. And I'm gonna fucking destroy you every time that little ass makes me horny" he smirked thrusting up hard 

"Uhhh fine!"

"Yeah?"

"Fine newt!"

"Yes! Ughh fuck come here!" He growled holding me tight as he pushed me onto my back and loomed over me never pulling out as he did proceeding to pound my pussy mercilessly pulling my lips to his to muffle our lustful moans until I suddenly hit my wall digging my nails into his arms as my eyes rolled back and I squirted down his cock "uuhhhh fuck little girl. Uhhh my tight little pouty girly just came down my fucking cock uuuuuuuhhh- I need you so bad- I'm so close - just a little - uuughhhh!" He groans burring himself as deep as possible and collapsing on me 

"You are a perv newt" I gasped

"I know" he gasped back he slowly pushed himself up and pulled out cleaning himself off on his hoodie "ummmm you look so good like that"

"Like what?" I asked as I hadn't moved

"Laid on your back. Completely naked. Legs open. Tits bouncing. Honey glow across your skin. Dripping my jizz out your pussy" he smirked "umm my little girl." He smirked stroking from my lips to my pussy "give me five minutes and I'll finish in your ass this time" 

"That a promise?" I asked climbing into his lap wrapping my arms around his neck 

"You bet that cute little ass I am" he smirked slapping my ass and pulling me into an intense make out. "Uhhh- I don't need five minutes" he growled as he pulled away and forced me back down on my stomach 

[pinep-ne]

More of a drabble (deepest apologies) and a little Jovier doodle cause u deserve it (to make up for it) ^_^

AHH!!! First time drawing them...

Anywho. (Lifting the cloche) Your fic, @officialbugdrink...

Placed in Blackwater, pre-canon, where instead of acquaintances, Charles and Arthur's relationship is semi-established.

(i have this fic and more posted on ao3!)

----------

"Charles."

The voice behind him is out of breath. Charles had already known who it was before a word was uttered. Arthur tends to stumble about a lot, not necessarily stomping unless he's particularly angry, but there's an off-kilter sway to it, and it holds an odd little rhythm Charles can recognize yards away.

He turns behind him and sure enough, the man stands before him, clouds of soft white billowing from his nose and mouth, chin tilted down, unconsciously searching for the warmth of his fleece-lined collar. Looking a lot like he has no clue how he got there in the first place.

Charles turns to him fully. The lantern sitting at his feet— its amber light shifting, casting different in angles upon Arthur's unsure expression. He has his hands behind his back, very obviously putting a wall between Charles himself and the culprit of his own bashfulness.

Charles finds it so endearing in this moment he feels he's forgotten how to breathe. He sets his rifle against the tree he's been leaning on.

"Arthur," he says, like a soft sigh. "Why're you up so late?"

Arthur shifts again, turning his head to behind him, very inconspicuously, then back to Charles.

His voice stays hushed like the entire world is listening. "I know you ain't like a whole lotta attention, figured you was guarding tonight, woulda made it a little more... well..." Arthur trails off, averting his gaze again, shoulders dropping. Then, he starts up as he usually does, as if he's been shocked. Opens his mouth, and shuts it; another telling quirk of his.

"I made you somethin'," he settles on.

Before Charles can even process it, Arthur's slowly revealed the item in his hands, unable to hold back a smile. A small, whittled figure. Charles stares blankly at the thing, then back to Arthur, before he recognizes its shape.

It's... a horse. Not much bigger than his palm, carved and smoothened by deft yet obviously intermediate hands. Arthur's steps forward, offering for Charles to take it, like they're exchanging some divine, precious object.

Precious, certainly. "It's Taima," Arthur exclaims, a little less quiet than before.

"Arthur, I've never..."

"I know!" He huffs, "I just wanted to give you somethin' anyway. An' the gangs doing the whole gift thing come morning. Lord knows I'd get shit for the next week, if I'd shown you this then. Save us both the trouble."

Charles runs his thumb along the detail, still fixated on it, feeling like his heart's caught in his throat. It certainly looks like her, now. Stylized slightly, but the head especially, her character portrayed to an impressive extent. He's known about Arthur's sketches. Seeing it translated to a tangible, sentimental thing, and a craft born from love specifically, is a whole other experience he's found himself unprepared for.

It was the smallest detail he'd shared over a few beers; only the vast prairie and Arthur having the ears to hear it. A simple admission, that he's never really had the opportunity to celebrate anything close to Christmas. As a child, it simply wasn't a part of his culture. Now it's merely on account of his lack of community, of permanence, and by that matter, any relation to anyone.

Arthur, still, rambles on all matter-of-factly. As if the gesture isn't completely shattering Charles where he stands, unable to yet say anything. Soon though, he notices, and immediately begins to wind down. Takes it as distaste, maybe. He starts spewing out empty apologies, under the guise of reassurances, doused greatly in insecurity, as he usually does when he can't really make sense of a reaction.

Charles doesn't take the time to decipher it, only grabs Arthur by his collar before the man can tear away anymore pages, catching him in a fleeting kiss. Embodying the desperate need to express something back; so rushed that it's painful. He snakes a hand, occupied with the little figure, beneath Arthur's arm, covering the expanse of his back— embracing.

"Thank you," he manages, muffled somewhere in the fleece of Arthur's coat. The figure is warm in his hand, as are the arms wrapped around him, and the body that sways them both.

[deadly-glamourtail]

(Spoilers, I mean it!) Wouldn't be a crossover between In Stars and Time and Hollow Knight without doing at least some bosses.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 with the team.

These eight drawings were super fun! Maybe I'll do actual ISAT art later, or Art Fight will take my entire free art time, who knows.

Bigfrin was why I kept going in the first place, and Mal Du Pays was such a lightbulb moment. Details and rambling about crossover lore below!

Remember me rambling about using Nightmare as a replacement for the color Red in the first part? Well, there it is. Hallownest or not, the lore is still clear that the Dream and Nightmare realms were separated long ago, so Siffrin's wish connecting them and putting non-Grimm related Nightmare Essence into the waking world is still, uh, pretty huge.

Between regular Grimm and NKG, it felt right to take inspiration from the latter to do The Playing One. Because they'd be a huge boss in this crossover too, the dagger would also transform into something inspired by the Coliseum Fools' weapons, for visibility. And, since Dream Essence appears as Whispering Roots in the waking world, the best equivalent I could get for Sif's hat was a Nightmare Lantern, though much simpler.

With Mal Du Pays... It took a while to work out.

The first thing that comes to mind would be using Void, but that seems to be something too intrinsic to Hallownest (we know anywhere deep enough could hold Void and worshippers, but ISAT's plot isn't going down, but up). So I thought of regular Dream spirits, didn't seem to work, until a wiki dive got me in the perfect place.

Nosk can read minds and craft perfect facsimiles of important bugs found in memories, and shapeshift arms or wings as necessary to bring down their prey - maybe it's even smarter if not Infected. It was perfect! If they are a well known species, I'd probably follow the nomenclature from HK and call it Repeating Nosk, instead, but let's go with the Sadness for clarity.

Nosk is simultaneously Mal Du Pays and the ghosts in the House. In every loop, they take notice of the group, and put in fake Siffrins in their path to try and separate them. Because this never works, either because they're careful or the whole Memory of Ghosts scene, it goes on just as unexplained, since Nosk can just shred the disguise and blend perfectly into the black walls.

Until, of course, Act 5. There's no team, and now there's a single living bug other than the King for Nosk to prey on. But, since this is Act 5, Nosk reading into Siffrin's mind and becoming aware of all the loops, all the self-hatred, an incomprehensible stretch of extremely similar time breaks it bad.

Sif never notices that the ghosts are now really messed up, with stained clothes, broken masks and barely an attempt to use the same shape. In turn, Mal Du Pays won't strike because it's now aware that it wouldn't work, so, they wait.

Not sure how the fight would happen in the waking world in this crossover, but I wanna say the King sees it coming and lets it happen because he's an asshole like that. Mal Du Pays can't defeat Siffrin in a fight, so it waits until they're too exhausted, and does its thing.

Does it have a voice? Or does Sif take one look at the shells moving around and hallucinates the rest? Could go either way.

Either way, the team would have one hell of a fight in this version.

[hummingbird24220]

after the zoro and luffy part in that alternate ending of sex pollen... I'd be deeply interested if you wrote a zoro × luffy one shot... Or any other ship, really. But ouugh it sure did make me feel things.

It doesn’t even need to be related to the sex pollen, really!

Yes! This is my first time writing char x char without a reader involved, but i hope you like it. Wasn't sure if you wanted NSFW or not, so have left it fluffy for now. Let me know if you want a part 2 that is NSFW, if that's what you wanted :3

Enjoy!

Where You Lead

Luffy x Zoro

The Sunny rocked gently on calm waters, sails full but steady. Night had settled in, the sky a soft blanket of stars, and the crew had drifted to their separate corners—some asleep, some tinkering or reading or planning. But Zoro stayed on deck, sharpening Wado Ichimonji under the lantern light, steel glinting with each pass of the whetstone.

He didn’t look up when footsteps approached, but he didn’t need to.

“Zoro! Look what I found!” Luffy plopped down beside him, grinning wide and holding a fruit in both hands. It was a mango. Whole. Uncut. Zoro sighed.

“You can’t just eat it like that, dumbass.”

“I can, I’m just not supposed to, huh?” Luffy tilted his head, as if that made him sound smart.

Zoro took the mango from him, unsheathing a small blade from his waistband. “You cut it like this. Around the pit. Then you do these little slices—like a grid.” He worked as he spoke, then flipped the mango inside out like a spiked sunburst. “There. Easy.”

Luffy’s eyes sparkled with wonder, like Zoro had taught him the secrets of the universe.

“Whoa! That’s so cool! You’re like a fruit wizard!”

Zoro rolled his eyes. “It’s basic knife work. Normal people know how to do this.”

“Yeah, but I got you for stuff normal people know,” Luffy said simply, digging his teeth into the mango cubes with sticky, childlike delight.

Zoro paused, just a moment too long.

Something about that made his chest clench and flutter all at once. Like pride. Like longing. Like a stupid, fragile feeling he kept sheathed tighter than any sword. He watched Luffy’s jaw move, his face sticky, hair a mess, shirt stained from god-knows-what.

Zoro knew what the feeling was. Knew it like the names of his blades, like the weight of his captain’s trust.

But saying it aloud felt like striking down the sun with a katana.

So he just leaned back on his elbows, sighing through his nose. “You’re hopeless.”

Luffy snorted. “You’re the one who followed me.”

“You jumped into the middle of the ocean with no plan. Again.”

“And you dove in after me! Again!”

They burst out laughing together, too loud for the quiet night, echoing across the sea.

A silence settled after, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. Zoro let it stretch. Luffy chewed slower now, gaze fixed upward, toward the stars.

“You ever think,” Luffy began, voice softer, “that it’s weird? The way I feel ‘round you?”

Zoro didn’t move.

“I mean, it’s not bad. It’s... warm. And full. Like how I feel when I think about Ace, or Gramps, or Sabo. Like family.” He blinked. “But not exactly the same.”

Zoro’s throat went dry.

Luffy turned toward him, all big eyes and sticky fingers and no idea what he was doing to Zoro’s chest.

“I think maybe I feel that way ‘cause you were the first one to join me. You’re always there. Even when I mess up.”

Zoro met his eyes, just for a second.

That’s when he knew Luffy didn’t understand what it was he was feeling. Not yet.

And Zoro would never be the one to tell him. Not if it meant pulling either of them off their path.

He smiled. Just a little. “Guess you’re stuck with me, then.”

“Forever?” Luffy grinned, like the idea made perfect sense.

Zoro nodded. “Forever.”

Luffy leaned against him without asking, head on Zoro’s shoulder, finishing his mango in comfortable silence.

Zoro let him. Let himself want. Just for tonight.

-

The day started the way it always did: with shouting, sunlight, and something catching on fire that shouldn’t have been flammable.

“LUFFY, THAT’S NOT TOAST, THAT’S JUST BREAD YOU PUNCHED!”

Zoro groaned from his hammock, arm slung over his eyes. He’d been awake for ten minutes and already regretted it.

Footsteps thudded toward the men’s quarters, fast and uncoordinated.

“Zoro! Zoro! Zoro! Wanna spar?!”

“No,” Zoro muttered.

“You’re already up, though!”

“I’m not.”

“But you said you’d help me practice fighting with a stick if I stopped hitting people with fishing rods!”

Zoro cracked an eye open. “You didn’t stop.”

“YEAH, BUT I SAID I WOULD.”

There it was. That blinding, unfiltered, full-body grin. The one that made saying no feel like kicking a puppy. Zoro hated it. He hated that it worked. Every. Damn. Time.

He sighed, dragging himself out of the hammock. “Ten minutes. That’s it.”

“YEAH!! I’LL GO GET THE BIG STICK!”

Ten minutes turned into an hour.

It always did.

Luffy was a menace with a staff, and not in a good way. His stance was awful, his form worse, and he kept getting distracted by clouds, bugs, or Chopper walking by with a slice of cake.

But Zoro didn’t stop. He never did.

And when Luffy laughed—full-throated and bright, sweat clinging to his collarbones like sunlight—Zoro’s chest squeezed tight.

“You’re getting better,” Zoro said, flicking the stick from Luffy’s hands with a clean twist of his own.

“You always say that,” Luffy pouted.

“Because you are.”

“But you never say it with sparkles, like Sanji when Nami does anything.”

Zoro sheathed the wooden practice sword like it was a real one and grunted. “I don’t sparkle.”

Luffy blinked. “That’s sad.”

Zoro squinted. “You’re sad.”

“YOU SAID THAT WITH SPARKLES!!”

Zoro turned and walked away. Luffy followed—he always did.

-

Midday came with a nap on the lawn deck. Zoro didn’t ask, didn’t invite. But Luffy plopped beside him anyway, lying on the swordsman’s arm like it was a pillow designed specifically for idiot captains.

“Do you think stars ever fall on purpose?” Luffy asked, eyes squinting up at the clouds.

“Huh?”

“Like, not by accident. Like maybe they want to fall. Wanna see what’s down here.”

Zoro turned his head just slightly, enough to see the curve of Luffy’s mouth, soft with thought.

“Nah,” Zoro said. “They fall ‘cause they burn out.”

“Oh.” Luffy was quiet for a beat. “That’s kinda sad, huh?”

Zoro looked back up at the sky. “Not if they burn bright first.”

Luffy smiled again. Zoro didn’t.

Not because he wasn’t happy. But because he was.

And that scared the hell out of him.

-

Dinner was rowdy, messy, and ended with Sanji threatening to "personally deep-fry anyone who threw rice again."

Luffy, covered in food, plopped beside Zoro on the railing after it all calmed down.

“I like it here,” he said.

Zoro side-eyed him. “You live here.”

“Yeah, but I like it. And I like you, too, Zoro. You make things make sense.”

Zoro froze.

Luffy tilted his head. “Did I say something weird?”

Zoro’s jaw clenched. “No.”

“Oh. Okay.”

And like always, Luffy leaned against him, resting his head on Zoro’s shoulder like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Zoro didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t breathe too loud.

Because if he did, the truth might come tumbling out—and he wasn’t ready to chase it.

Not yet.

-

“Chopper,” Luffy said, very seriously, “I think I’m dying.”

Chopper dropped his clipboard. “WHAT?!”

Luffy pointed to his stomach, brows furrowed. “It’s all twisty. And warm. Like soup. But not soup. Weird soup.”

Chopper blinked, placed a hoof on Luffy’s belly, then tilted his head.

“Hmm… no fever. No inflammation. No parasites…” He tapped his chin. “Luffy, are you sure it hurts?”

“It doesn’t hurt! It’s just… weird! Like butterflies! But I didn’t eat any butterflies. I think.” He paused. “Did Sanji make butterfly soup?”

Chopper looked at him, then sighed. “Luffy, I don’t think you’re sick. I think it’s…” he lowered his voice like he was sharing some ancient secret, “...emotions.”

Luffy gasped. “I have those?!”

“Yes! You do! And that weird soup feeling? That’s your heart reacting to something you feel.”

Luffy squinted. “...So you’re saying I have a belly full of feelings.”

“Essentially.”

He shot up from the infirmary bed, a determined look in his eyes. “Then I gotta find Zoro!”

“Wait—Zoro?! Why Zor—?!”

But he was already gone.

Zoro was in his usual spot: the edge of the ship, one leg propped up, arms crossed, sword at his side, face calm in that stupidly handsome and brooding way Luffy had come to know so well.

“ZORO!”

“Geh—what?!”

Luffy skidded to a stop in front of him, fists clenched at his sides. “You’re the reason I have the funny soup in my belly!”

Zoro blinked. “...What.”

“Chopper said it’s emotions. That I’m not dying. And every time I feel the soup, it’s when I’m around you.”

Zoro rubbed his face. “Luffy—”

“So,” Luffy continued, undeterred, “I decided to tell you.”

Zoro let out a long breath, glancing at the sea like it might save him. “Okay. Sit.”

Luffy sat, cross-legged and upright like an eager student.

Zoro leaned back, staring at the clouds. “Look… that funny feeling? That’s... probably affection. Love. Attachment. Whatever you want to call it. I’ve had it too.”

Luffy’s eyes grew wide. “You get the soup too?!”

Zoro gave a small huff of a laugh. “Yeah. Every day.”

They sat in silence for a beat. The waves rolled. The ship creaked gently.

Then—abruptly—Luffy leaned forward and kissed him.

Quick. Sudden. A little off-center. And horrendously bad.

Zoro choked on his own spit. “What the hell was that?!”

“A kiss!” Luffy beamed. “That’s what people do when they feel stuff, right?”

“Y-you can’t just—” Zoro started, then stopped. “That was awful.”

Luffy frowned. “Didn’t taste like soup either.”

Zoro sputtered. Then, slowly, laughed. A real laugh. The kind that shook his chest.

Luffy laughed too, wiping his mouth. “You looked so shocked! Like your face was trying to run away.”

“Because it was!”

They both collapsed backward, side by side, grinning like idiots.

The stars were just beginning to peek through the fading light. The sky overhead was open, wide, and full of quiet possibilities.

Luffy stared up and whispered, “I think I get it now.”

Zoro hummed. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. You’re like my sword-heart. Not in my brain. Not in my belly. Just kinda... always with me.”

Zoro looked at him, eyes soft. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Thanks.”

They kept grinning.

And kept staring at the sky.

[mossybee-exe]

Solaprunk Worldbuilding 1 - Eco-Cities

I've been working on worldbuilding a solarpunk setting for a slice of life story I'm writing and thought I'd share some of my ideas to maybe inspire other people!

In this world there is no government, no rules, no pressures or bad people. Just society working together after a global crash. A second chance to do things right this time.

(Mind the spelling mistakes)

Although far and few in between, big cities and towns still exist in this universe. However, they've all worked hard to keep it as eco-friendly as possible and still choose to live alongside and work with nature rather than fight it.

Trash and recyclingcans can now be found almost everywhere, giving no one an excuse to litter. Community composters are also a thing.

Skyscrapers, now skeletons of the old world, are draped in thick ivy vine walls, native flowering vines, moss panels, and vertical hydroponics that wrap around the metal and glass bones. These help regulate temperature, absorb CO2, and create habitats fors birds and insects.

Former office buildings and shopping centers like malls have been repurposed into shared living spaces, community markets, workshops, and event areas. Floors have open walls and breeze tunnels to reduce reliance on cooling systems. Those can be shut during colder months.

In taller districts, tree houses extend from reclaimed buildings, blending organically with planted rooftop forests. Rope bridges and wind-activated elevators made if recycled parts help people travel between vertical spaces.

Cities are completely walkable and don't require transportation. Streets are narrow and shaded with plant canopies. Most paved areas are soft permeable cobblestone or moss-tile paths that allow rain to soak through instead of pooling or flooding.

Painted murals double as maps - bold, hand-painted designs show landmarks, walking trails, tram routes, and local art projects. Updated regularly by volunteers.

Giant sculpted trees or mushrooms function ad rainwater collectors, solar lanterns, or even mist sprayers during hot days. Children often climb on them or gather nearby to play. They can also provide shade.

Metal "bike trees" hold dozens if free-to-use bikes, all maintained by volunteers. Bikes come in all colors and sizes, some decorated with flowers or art to reflect the community's personality.

Solar Trams glide quietly on narrow tracks. They're sleek but not flashy, designed with recycled metals and glass. Inside, seats are made from reclaimed wood, each with a small solar lamp or charging port. Solar Buses work in a similar fashion.

Public Plazas now have eco-escalators that are powered by pedaling like on a bike.

Interactive screens at intersections and stops show local events, weather and climate, community votes or messages, and tutorial videos on composting, repair, herbal medicine, or art-making. Digital marketing and advertisements are no more.

Most people carry small, solar-powered devices that have replaced phones called "Data Stones" - slate-like digital notebooks that sync to the city's mesh network. People use them for Journaling, mapping, music, or community messaging, but never for mindless scrolling. Digital use is intentional, not addictive.

The internet exists, but it's localized. Instead of one global net, each town or city has a mesh intranet. Communities upload and share stories, tech guides, magazines, songs, and documentaries- all accessible for free.

At every city node is a "Commons Booth"-a repurposed phone booth now used for small trades, gifts, or lost-and-found. You might find a hand-knit hat, seeds, poems in a bottle, hand-bound journals, or a small bag if dried herbs for tea.

Public parks host weekly workshops: mushroom log inoculation, fixing Guardianers, upcycling old tech, dyeing fabrics with natural materials, and crafting musical instruments from trash.

Fireflies are protected and welcomed into urban life with dedicated "nightlight gardens"- small glowing sanctuaries that bloom under moonlight (usually a mix of regular and bioluminescent plants). People sit quietly here, reading or singing. Festivals are celebrated not with fireworks, but light dances, candlelit parades, or bioluminescent art. It's also a romantic place for a date.

Children and adults alike use "Learning Loops"- open-air circles of benches and tree stumps near gardens and community spaces where mentors teach based on skills, not age. There's no formal school system. Learning is woven into life.

On a certain day each month, citizens volunteer to teach something for free-sailing knots, solar repair, compost chemistry, storytelling, mediation, bird language. The city slows down that day. It's treated like a holiday.

In addition to tire-posted Little Libraries (where people can take a book and leave one in it's place), entire alleys have been converted into "Book Gardens"- free libraries under pergolas or vines, surrounded by reading hammocks and native wildflowers.

Local businesses and shops are still a thing, but are not kept up by money. Money has no use in this world anymore. Businesses upkeep it themselves and will happily trade their wares for something in return. For example, a bakery can trade a cake for something in return like a jar of jam or something else. It's like that everywhere.

Citizens enjoy solar-charged cooking stoves, clean water from centralized purification systems, access to upcycled tech, 3D-printed tools, and digital artist hubs.

Markets overflow with herbs, handmade instruments, mushroom leathers, fermented goods, and hand-bound books from across the region. Some city dwellers specialize in creating high-tech eco-dafe goods to trade with the countryside.

Most people live in co-housing clusters or share entire floors of old skyscrapers converted into lush indoor gardens and social spaces. They might not know everyone, but each block has caretakers and community gatherings.

They're alive with creativity and innovation. Mural projects, street musicians using windows instruments powered by movement, and holographic poetry displays powered by pedals or solar generators.

With more people comes more variety in skills. It's common to find classes in herbalism, robotics, or solar carpentry happening daily in public courtyards.

The ideas are free to use for whatever you want or use for inspiration! All I ask is that you CREDIT ME! And feel free to send me an ask on more details to this lovely world :)

[bad-traffic-smp-ideas]

Secret life but it's all explosives or pyromania in general. Scar would have a field day burning everything in sight, the builders of the gang would have to learn to not get attached to their builds (for once).

As for the name for this life game, I don't really care what it's called, but the name I have for it so far is Burning Life.

And to start the endless change log this ask is, the nether is open. The whole thing, nether fortresses and bastions are on the table, and every biome is available. Gold and magma cream become extremely valuable due to potions being able to be made, and piglins can sometimes give you fire resistance potions. Fire resistance potions will be nerfed a bit, with them having a shorter duration.

Gunpowder is gifted when certain tasks are accepted. What you do with the gunpowder is up to the player, but it's usually related to the task. Tasks would be like, "light every person you see on fire!" Or "scare a player with fireworks!" They wouldn't usually involve murder, but it's on the table/possible. And the tasks will always be high risk high reward, like with the lighting everyone on fire thing, you get unbreakable flint and steel and a fire aspect 2 diamond sword, maybe some blazes or creeper spawn eggs if you're feeling generous.

A LOT things are buffed and completely overhauled too, with fire charges now making a 3x3 fire instead of the single block. If you hold shift right-click with the fire charges, you can charge it like a bow and throw them. It takes ages (10 seconds) to charge fully to discourage spam, and they don't break blocks. The breaking blocks thing goes to TNT (not minecart TNT, that's OP enough), with it now being as powerful as two normal charged creepers, at the cost of a little bit longer of a fuse (a whole second is added). Flame bows are also buffed a bit. If the arrow from a flame bow (the arrow MUST come from a flame bow, arrows caught on fire by being shot through lava or standalone fire will NOT count) lands on something flammable, there is a 30% chance that block catches on fire, and a 5% chance that the block is completely destroyed on impact, and everything next to the impact is caught on fire. Flame bows will have a slightly slower charge time, with half a second being added and will deal less damage to balance this.

End crystals would get no buff. They're powerful enough and are hard to get already LMAO. But if I HAD to give them something, I'd hand that to someone else to figure it out /j. In all seriousness, I would give them a blast radius boost but not by much.

Blaze powder will have a new power and recipe too! 9 blaze powder in a crafting table will now create a block of blaze powder. This block can be used as a sort of stationary lava, with it acting like lava, but without the flowing part. It will also act like redstone to TNT and TNT minecarts when placed next to them, lighting the TNT instantly. Anyone who touches it will also light on fire, and will act like netherrack when lit, with the fire lasting indefinitely. As for the new power blaze powder has, it will now throw a puff of smoke in front of the player in a 4x4 radius, and anyone caught (including the user, so don't walk forward!) in it will be blind for 5 seconds, a 10% chance to be caught on fire, and will get weakness 3 for 3 seconds. There is a 30 second cooldown on this, but this will spice up PVP even more, allowing for quick getaways and disorienting the victims.

Torches and lanterns would be changed too, being like weapons in a way, but still having their practical and usual use. Torches would have the same damage output as a wooden sword, but would light people on fire. Lanterns would have the damage of a stone sword, but would light people on fire. Their soul fire counterparts would be upgrades, with soul fire torches dealing the damage of a stone sword and the soul fire lantern having the damage of an iron sword. These would be used as a supplement to people's normal swords, with the intention of people using the torches/lanterns in their offhand to replace shields. Dynamic lighting would be here too, so light in the offhand would be another use too!

Fire and Blast protection would get buffs too! Fire protection would now have a chance (fire prot 1 would be 10%, 2 20%, and so on. Except for 4 and 5. 4 would be 35% and 5 40% for balance) to stop the fire each time you take damage from being lit. Blast protection would be a simple buff, with it having more resistance to explosions. Fire and Blast protection would only be able to be put on pants though, leading to the issue of "Which one is the bigger threat in this moment?"

To make getting materials for a good fire harder, and to encourage people to take more secrets each session for more spawn eggs, blazes will have 5 more hearts, and deal 1.5x more damage, and 2x as much damage to shields. If you're wearing leather armor and a blaze hits you, the armor will take 3x more damage than normal, for the fun of it. Blazes will be guaranteed to drop 2 blaze rods to make up for this. Creepers and charged creepers will also leave bigger holes than normal, about 1.5x bigger for the normal creepers, and 3x for charged if you manage to get one. Creepers will also be louder and take longer to explode than usual (a full 2 more seconds) to make up for this, so play your cards right!

To add even more complexity to all of this, everyone would get 6 lives (everyone would be accidentally blowing themselves up or burning to death, they need it, as a little treat) and the life system rules are tweaked. On the 1st and 2nd sessions, everyone (red, yellow, green, dark green) can kill each other, but not directly. That means no physical contact while killing, leading to the creation of some fun traps. From the 3rd session till finale, only yellow and reds can kill both directly and indirectly, but the greens and dark greens can only fight if provoked. The finale is a free game for everyone. Everyone can kill directly or indirectly, but no lives can be gained.

I think that's all, I've infodumped enough LOL. But this would make PVP so unique and special, and really leave a mark on players and audience. I would love to see how this would also affect PVE as well, like how much more scarier night would be when creepers are around, and how people could take advantage of it. And this would definitely affect how people would build, with obsidian becoming a builder's best friend but so tedious to get. This thing is a huge overhaul to everything, but it would be so much fun to watch and play as well :)

Still crazy to me that 6/8 seasons into this series people are still getting attached to their bases... maybe this'll fix em

[mehiwilldoitlater]

Black Cloud, Red Fire (Part 2)

(part 1) (part 3)

"It's there? We're close?"

"N-no...no, I don't think... I can sense something, but I think it's further up."

Since what happened at the bell site, you haven't spoken at all, which made the monkey stressed and worried for you. You kept on cradling your arm, trying to search for a sense of stability, maybe scared to share what was inside your mind. He couldn't comprehend what had happened—why wandering off like that? You said something was calling you, then he rang the bell, and... but what could he know? You didn't want to talk... Didn't you trust him enough? 

In front of the both of you, the main gate of the temple blocked the road between its walls and the mosque itself. There was no other path; you needed to cross inside. Only the light of two lanterns welcomed you, but you felt anything but a welcoming aura. The monkey knew something was there, inside, waiting for you. He took your hand in his own, pointing to the gate with his staff.

"This time, don't wander off. We'll take a break. but we need to move forward, ok?"

You nodded, still shocked from what you saw and what you felt—that you still felt around you.

When you passed the main gate, you noticed another one, leading to the backyard. Around you, structures with statues of the Bodhisavta Guanyin, all made for the worshipper and the monks, but who could come to a place like this to pray? At the center, a tree grew in all its mightyness, and you noticed a small figure.

"Shhh!" the keeper spoke. "Keep quiet! You don't want to set off that beast!"

He kept on holding your hand, giving a small squeeze when he felt it tremble in his grasp. Another enemy, and be the look of the Keeper, a hard one.

"In the backyard is Black Wind Guai's ally. Calls itself Lingxuzi."

"Lingxuzi...i think i heard of him..." the monkey spoke "Wasn't he the wolf Guai that was friends with the Black Bear?"

"Yes and no! This one is merely a successor, but trust me when I say that it's far beyond your abilities! Now, considering your strength, I'd suggest you: "

Before he could finish, a howl that frozen your blood in your veins reached the three of you. Instantly, both of your attentions have been caught at the entrance of the backyard.

"Get away while you can, little ones!" 

The Keeper disappeared in fear, leaving you both again in a place that now was so silent that it reminded you of a graveyard more than a temple. You felt your limbs tremble, your eyes stuck on that gate, afraid to see what was beyond that. There was no other way to cross, and as much as you wanted to run, you felt like you needed to go there.

The monkey sensed that uncertainty as much as your hand trembled, stronger than before. He diverted his gaze from the gate to you, ignoring what was supposed to be face for one moment.

"You don't have to follow me. You can wait here; I can handle it!"

"You...you want me to wait here?" You look at him holding your hand on your chest. "No! I can't just stay here and wait for something to happen! I... want to help somehow."

"But you're scared. I can feel it; you're not okay."

"I... I know, but... but I still know that it won't be right to just sit and wait for the worst to pass. Even if I'm afraid, I still want to follow."

Despite his worries for you, he smiled. You weren't that nobody that you kept saying; you were more. You both started to take the stairs; the backyard is now in sight.

"Once you pass that gate," said the keeper around you, "there's no turning back!"

"We've already passed that point." You sighed, while the grip on your hand became tighter.

You didn't have enough time to inspect the backyard because the one thing that was able to emit that scary sound in the area was already there. Walking on the roof of the structure in front of you, that wolf was so big that it was a mystery how it could hold him, its red eyes pointing to both of you, his shining white teeth glaring malevolent. A soft growl came from it. That was the beast; that was what even the wolves were scared of.

The monkey was fast enough to push you and sent you to a safer distance while he was ready to counterattack the charge of the wolf.

The backyard was encircled by smaller structures, which were always avoided by the same wolf during the fight. Lucky for you, his connection was completely on the monkey, or at least your companion was always fast enough to get in the line and avoid any chance for the monster to get a glimpse of you while you were moving around, trying to get to the other side.

The fight was terrying; if it weren't for the rumbles that he provoked that made you fall to the ground, those howls forced you to cover your ears for how strong and painful they echoed through your brain. More than once you tried to look at the monkey, and every time his fiery eyes sent you a message loud and clear.

Don't stop; just move. 

At some point, you just need a few meters and one more sprint to get on those stairs, and you would be completely out of that monster radar! You were ready for one last run, but you needed to look, did you?

You cast another look at the scene of the fight, and you saw the scene: with one paw, the wolf was able to lift the monkey in the air like he was some rag doll, and, reaching him with a jump, he struck him down on the ground. You were able to hear the sound of his grunts of pain and coffs after all the air in his lungs for the shock. Before he could get back up, the wolf had already got his claws on him, stranding him on the ground with his full weight in his chest. The monkey tried to get free with his own claw, but the skin of that monster was so thick that it didn't budge a little.  His maw opened, ready to take the head of the monkey that had decided to disrupt its mountain.

You looked back and forward; he could have handled it!

Thos teeth...he would never survive an attack like that!

Maybe the juice would cure him?!

There was even enough of that to do that?

Maybe you could... maybe he could...

"Oh, fuck it!"

You sprinted behind, looking around the small space between the main gate and the second building. Anything, everything was good in that case! You looked around before you just spotted, for a second, a bell! If funny to be in need of ring, what causes now major of the problems, eh?!

You searched on the ground for something hard and light enough to be held, and so you desperately grabbed a rock, and with all the strength that you possessed at that moment, you started to hit the rock so hard that you sensed it crambling between the impact on the metal.

Before those jaws could close on his head, the wolf's attention was caught by another sound—a strong ring of something near. He looked at the direction of the sound, and it seemed uneasy, especially noticing the origin of the sound. He soon left his first prey behind, leading to what was far too near his treasure.

When you heard his paws crashing the ground, you knew you were done for. You saw those bloody red eyes watching you and his massive tongue licking his razor teeth, savoring your flesh and bone. You didn't dare to move, too scared to provoke it! With your eyes, you looked at the wooden wall of the main building—a crack in the wood—it was big enough.

In the instant you sprinted to the wall, he was already tearing to pieces the bell. You squeezed so hard to get inside, hurting your arm and scratching it deeply in one piece of wood that pointed inside. He then realized your escaped attempt, and he launched itself to the crack, trying to tear it open and reach you. You squished yourself on the other side, trying to avoid that paw that, not once but many times, was so near to drag you out. You closed your eyes, ready to say your prayers. It was a nice life—a really nice one!

Then you heard a scream and the sound of the head of the wolf cracking in two by one blow. His body slowly faded to ashes, leaving you alone in that small spot. Only one shadow emerged, blocking the now dim light from the outside. 

Using his staff as a support, panting and clearing in need of some more medicines. The monkey looked at you, visibly angry.

"I told you to move!"

You just stayed there, your breath stuck in your throat and your eyes wide open for what had just happened.

"I couldn't... let it kill you."

Those were the only words that came out of you. He still looked angry, but then sighed and reached for your hand. You grasp it immediately; now this act is becoming more natural than it was before.

"...Thank you."

A small smile appeared on his face; you still needed to know what had just happened.

An heartfelt laugh suggested to move around your heads; the Keeper must have been watching you bith from the beinning!

"You've surprised me! Now that's it's dead, you might—"

"Hey, wait a second!" The monkey voice sounded annoyed now, looking around with his tail moving for the nervousness.

"You know how dangerous it was, and you let Y/n follow me there! You could have helped her...us!"

"Little monkey," a nickname that made the face of your companion contort in discomfort. "As much as I would love to help you and your friend, I cannot! You are not the first Destined One and Bián huá that has been led here, and, by experience, my help can do so little."

His tone was apologetic—heartbroken at least. Where are you really the first one that was able to go this far? How many tried before you two... Maybe the old man did want to help but didn't know how. Maybe the relic was part of that small thing he could do.

"If we succeed, your power will be whole again, right?" You voiced, with a little more of a security, "Then we just have one way to do it... no?"

You looked at the monkey with a small smile. If you know that taking the relic could mean helping not only the monkeys but that old Keeper, then it was necessary to take it away! The monkey looked at you surprised and pleased. He liked that confidence. He hoped to see it more.

"I'm looking forward to it, child," the keeper kept going on. "As I was saying, you might as well take a good look around. A great pill the Black Wind Guai had gifted the wolf. Finding it would be a deserving reward for that fight!"

A pill? That was interesting. Even that big, ugly thing needed a little help. Good to know for both of you. You both started to look around, searching in it the various structures, and, funny enough, it was in the one that held you refuge when you caught its attention!

"HAHA!" you laugh, pointing at the small orb in front of both of you.

"Why are you reading now? Got hit in your head?"

"No! I...well...this thing was supposed to help it, and...well to avoid me knowing about it, it killed him!"

The monkey needed a little moment to think about your words, and, after a pause, he started laughing too. Such irony.

///

"How long do you think it will take?"

"Umm..i really don't know..you said is above us, so...higher on the mountain?"

You sighed, taking a seat on the nearby rock. You were exhausted, your footsteps started to get sloppy and slow, and you both haven't taken a break in hours, and this started to get a hold on both of you. Monkey looked at you, worried that at this rate the situation could only get worse, and he heard your stomach growling.

"Oh gosh..I'm sorry."

And then his stomach started to make the same sound. Well, it was late, and you needed to eat something...

He looked around; it wasn't a really bad place to stop, but you could have been spotted by the wolves, and a fire could only make it easier for them to catch you. You needed a nice hideaway, but you were exhausted. He looked at you, dead serious.

"Listen, we need to find a shelter. Now right now, I can't let you take another step, and I can't take you on my back. I need you to stay here, stay put, and wait for me."

"W-Wait?! Alone?!"

"It'll be just for a few minutes! I swear, as soon as I find a good place, I'll be back! And you have the keeper to watch you!"

You really didn't want to be alone in a place like this; hell, who knows what kind of new enemy that place could hold! But he was right, you were slowing him down now... and the idea of sitting and just realx was oh so tempting. You sighed, massaging your arm that he had bandages after the fight.

"Promise me to not take long."

"I swear..not a sound all right?"

"Yes. Come back soon."

He glanced you a nervous smile, showing that even if he had asked you this, he himself wasn't so sure about his own decision. Despite that, at that time, it seemed like the most reasonable solution, and so he disappeared in the woods.

Minutes passed,maybe more ,and you started to wonder if something could have happened to him. Well, it could happen to you too, but thinking of what was ready to cook you, like some meatloaf, wasn't a helper. Despite the small sense of paranoia, your strength started to come back every minute, giving you the time to start to focus around. Your monkey killed the wolves boss...would they be angry? Well, maybe they were, but he provoked you...sort of. Then there was still that hideous matter of the vision that you had—the bear that you saw must have been the Black Wind Guai, but why helping the boy? Yaoguais surely were stranges.

Deep in your thought, you wake up to the sound of rustling and laugh. You rose from your seat, especting to find the monkey, proud of himself after finding the place; instead, you met two big black eyes, a set of sharp teeth, and a not so nice canine muse.

"The human...little rascal! I finally found you!"

You gulped, taking a few steps back.

"You dared to disrupt our mountain! I'll stuff you like a roasted goose and get you eated by our master!"

"WAIT! D-Do not... STAY AWAY!"

He didn't follow your order; instead, holding his sword, he marched on you, ready to slash you up. You dodged by miracle, starting to run away from that guai and his malevolent intent.

"COME BACK! YOU INSIGNIFICANT HUMAN! WAIT TILL I'LL CATCH YOU!"

You tried to run, but you weren't still in full shape, and, to make things worse, your foot found itself anchoring to roots that grooved too high for your liking, making you fall on the ground, face flat on the dirt. The wolf, far more used to the obstacles, was on you in a few big steps, with his sword up in the air.

"NO NO, PLEASE! Leave Me Alone! AH!"

You try to cover yourself with your arm, screaming. The blow never came; instead, when you opened your eyes, the Wolf body was reduced to a gale of ashes, and a simian figure that you knew was there, painting after a run. Alerted by your screams, he had followed your scent and your voice and acted as fast as he could. 

"Y/N! Are you okay?! Did he hurt you?!"

He held you by your shoulders, shaking you, trying to get one word from you.He was visibly worried—no, he was aprehensive; he knew for...how long? Ten minutes? And you were found already by one of your enemies, your face scratched by the fall, and...were you frozen up by fear?! Why you didn't respond?!

You kept silence for a few seconds, then your lips trembled, your mouth opened, and...you cried.

This was... how many times some of them tried to hurt you or kill you? How many of them were ready to cook you and eat you? You were tired, you were hungry, you were scared, and... and you couldn't handle it any more. You just started weeping while he was panicking.

This was the first time he ever saw you cry. He didn't know what to do! You seemed fine, then why were you crying?! He kept looking at you, loss of words, afraid to be sad too much or less, or what it could make things worse...

He didn't know what to do! This was completely out of his comprehension and what he learned! You were crying, but you seemed fine! 

...Wait...he saw this happen before, between his younger siblings, when they were scared by something or someone...were you this scared that you just wanted to cry?

Then you felt his arms circling you, hugging you.

"I'm sorry; I shouldn't have left you there alone. It's my fault; please forgive me."

You didn't say anything, just weeping all of what you had inside out. You could just let your face fall on his chest while his hands caressing your back, trying to bring some comfort. He wanted to tell you that he had found a place, but now he preferred taking you in his arms and leading you there directely.

The road was silent, except for your hiccups, and you weren't so attentive on the road this time. You understood that he had found a cavern when the light of the sun disappeared. While sniffing, you heard a sound of something shifting, like something big.

"So that's the girl you were talking about?"

When you reached the cavern, you almost fell from his arms when you met the giant in that cavern. It was a horse—a big damn horse. With those hands, he could easily rip off your head from your body, and you weren't in the mood for another fight. But before you could panic again, the monkey was ready to calm you down.

"He's not an enemy, Y/N. He's a nice Yaoguai; you don't have to be afraid."

He gently putted you down, but you refused to leave his hand, still waiting for the moment that the horse could attack you both. Instead, the giant shifted on his spot, looking with his big brown eyes at your smaller figure that trembled at his gaze. He seemed moved by your poor trembling state; who knows how many perils you had to face with so little knowledge about how to fight?

"I'm not like those fools, little one. My honor refuses to harm innocents like you. There's nothing to be afraid of." He had a nice voice—calming, warm. His eyes too, despite his mighty look, seemed to be quite the gentle giant.

"I'll prepare something; you can take a rest, all right?"

The monkey reluctantly left your hand while starting to prepare a small fire at the edge of the cave. A stream up ahead founded a hole in the ceiling of the cave, creating a small waterfall and a pond. The horse sat in front of it, creating a scene that could have been put in a frame.

"Come closer; let us talk, little one."

You looked at him, still unsure, but after having noticed that there was no evil intent in his voice and action, a small gesture with his mighty hand, you took a few steps ahead. You took a seat on a fallen rock pillar, still looking at the giant horse for whatever possible danger he could pose to you and the monkey, even if, each every minute, this creature seemed the most docile one that you ever met on this journey.

"Tell me, what's your name?"

"...Y/n, sir..."

"Ma Tianba, little one, i'm no one's sir...He said you were here for an important matter... but you look out of water here; did something happen?"

"....Something happen? ...Everything is happening!" You opened your arms in an exaggerated gesture. "I was in my world! Bored and normal! Now I'm here, and I had to deal with...monsters, demons, and old monkeys made of stone! Monster wants to eat me, or to just kill me, and I'm losing my mind! I'M AT MY LIMIT!"

You were ready to start crying again, but you composed yourself with the thought that the monkey would just be more worried. Ma Tianba listened calmly, caressing his muse with his hand, surprised at first by your outburst, but it seemed almost normal to act like this when you're facing all this turmoil. It was clear that, even if alongside a proud wife as the monkey, you were still...human. Frail, scared, and confused of your surroundings.

"Then...why don't just leave?"

"I can't just leave! I need to find a way back! And the worst of all is that I'm just here acting useless when the monkey fights everything with his life on the life!"

"Umm..useless, you say, uh? " He pondered a little at your words, remembering the small talk that he had shared with the simian before he could hear your scream in the forest. "... But your friends said that without you he could have never found this place. "

You massaged your face, looking at the horse between your still wet lashes. Wait...did the monkey tell him that?

"And he said that you saved him from a terrible foe...That doesn't sound useless."

"N-no, but he still gave his all for this mission."

"And so do you...you don't look like you had never faced something like an Yaoguais, and yet here you are. You could run; instead, you're staying."

You didn't know how to respond...you could have turned back; there was not one but many chances before...and yet you followed the monkey. And even with that, the same destiny could have just left you behind, like the weight that you thought you were. He really did trust you so much to the point of not even seeing what was clear to you.

"From what he said, you're strong and kind. He said you would like to help the Keeper of this Mountain. It's a hard quest, but you put your heart into it, didn't you?"

"But I can barely fight..."

"Fight ask for learning, and learning needs time. You'll have all the time; what you have now will be enough."

What a strange guy he was. He didn't eat humans; at least he didn't want to eat you. His composure reminded you of an old warrior, and he was exceptionally kind and wise. He showed compassion and patience over your outburst, maybe because, at his age, he can come to terms with the fact that it's helping to just be able to talk and having someone to hear about someone else's problems.

"You know... I do know the struggle of feeling helpless. I could have given up on my rage, and yet I decided another path. An act of kindness changes my life...even in that there's strength, so I see no uselessness in you."

You stayed silent, looking in the direction of the monkey. Did he hear it all? Of course he did! Now you felt shameful to force that horse to listen to you and embarrassed because your outburst happened just in front of the monkey, who was preparing porridge, of course.

"Ask this yourself; if he can accept you whole, why don't do it for yourself?"

Once again, he was right... You stood up, reaching the monkey, and putted a small piece of wood on the fire. He stirred the porridge calmly, with a satisfied smile on his face.

"...Thank you to keep it up with me."

"Thank you for being you then."

"...Can we share our food with him?"

"The more, the merrier."

///

After leaving Ma Tianba, it seemed like he had other plans, such as sleaving the Black Wind Guai territory, so you continued your journey. After a long path that required even getting wet a little, you both found yourself on another step of rock stairs. Now, around you, the tree started to get less and less thick, now giving way to what was the bamboo grove.

The air was colder than before; not a single ray of sun was able to filter between the leaves before, but now it was just so dark. A small mist covered the area, giving it a more suggestive atmosphere. Just when you started to ascend the stares, the two of you heard a voice, a chanting one.

"Long bound by a worldy cage,

now free in nature's sage."

"Uh?"

"It's a poem." The monkey spoke, "Someone is making some verser up here."

Strange place to make some poetry, you said to yourself. A small part of you thought that it might be another guai, maybe one that wanted to attack both of you by luring you in with some poetry, but when you reached the place, a huge space adorned by rocks and fires, what you found was a man with long white hair and a giant gord on his back.

He was standing, brushing in his hand, composing on a piece of paper and painting that he was making. He didn't even look at you; he just kept on painting.

"Have you seen those nameless souls adrift on your path?"

"I'm sorry?" You asked, and he finally turned around, gifting you a small smile.

"Their will float aloft, never to fade." He shook his head, worried for... whatever he was talking about. "Shame, your gourd serves little purpose, and mine answers solely to me."

He scratched his head with his brush; this matter must have been quite important to him.

"There's...something we can do about it?" The monkey questioned, his eyebrows high. The man seemed pleased with the pek of interest by the two of you—almost like he had already the solution all along.

"I know a way to guide the souls, mend their paths, and set them free. It will aid you."

And, with one move of his hand, he snatched magically the gourd from the monkey side, causing a shocked reaction between the both of you.

"HEY!" You screamed, "What the-"

"Ah ah." The man shushed you, moving his hand, and with the same brush, he started to write something with some light erupting from the same object. After this strange stunt, he chickled, observing his work.

"Now, this is better." He launched the gourd back in your direction; the monkey catched it. "This gourd, though humble, may save the lost, banish their obsession, and guide them."

You look at each other confused. He tried to move the gourd, trying to shake it, noticing a strange sound coming from it—a jingle? 

"Um...mister...whoever you are...we're not sure to know what had just happened."

"Yes and writing on goards without permission is not very nice."

The man just laughed at your words; now back to his work on his painting.

"Would you leave a gift as mine? When time calls, every small help can be a gift from heaven. Especially when someone is destined as the two of you. From now on, there's no turning back."

"We were aware of that..."

"We are like tumbleweed, drifting through life, with destiny beyond our grasp. Both of you must follow what has been prepared for you. And, since the road had already claimed you, now you must see it through. Your heart will guide you further. We shall meet again."

...What a strange man...and he was supposed to meet you again? Such certain in someone that you had barely known. The monkey looked at you. shrugged his shoulder in your direction with a small grimn. He hasn't told you anything that you didn't know—even if you wondered what he was trying to do.

Before you could leave the space, an old hand grasped your hand, forcing you to stop in your tracks. He didn't put any force in it, and he was just holding you a piece of paper, the one that he was painting before.

"When you find what is inside the crack... remember to follow your heart...you'll find more that you need."

///

"This humble's one name is Guangmou. Should my demise come by your hands, please pass this message to my master: "

The blueish creature kept tapping his hand with his closed fan, looking visciously at both of you.

"Searching for deaity, mortals do aspire. Craving immortality, Yaoguais surely will conspire!"

And, with the movement of the same fan, the fight began.

Why did you have to face another opponent? During your tracks, everything seems fine, aside from the fact that now wolves were completely gone and what populated the area were... snakes. A lot of snakes...snakes everywhere. And the best part? Even dead snakes! It didn't make sense, but what was making it?

What you knew was that, in the middle of a small talk with your companion, you felt it again. The pulling in your stomach, something calling you. The stagnant water asked again to be moved, and you needed to do that. You really wanted to ignore this and keep going on, but you simply couldn't, could you?

So you followed that feeling, with the monkey now at your side, aware of the danger. And you found it: a blueish creature that could move the wind itself and was helped by other snakes.

In the fight, he talked strange; he seemed resentful of someone yet accepting his own death. When the monkey took the form of the wolf that he had already fought near the bell, he seemed almost happy to know that he was taking that body to finish him.

Once again, the monkey was able to conquer the guai with his power, which was growing and growing every time. While turning to ashes, something came from his mouth.

"My master is possession-obsessed... You are just like him..."

What he said was... pretty ambiguous. You wondered if he was referring to the monkey or...someone else that the creature remembered in his past. Monkey stood there, watching that body vanish in the air, just like the others that he had already vanquished. Then , his attention was initially on you, worried that you could collapse again on the ground, exhausted by whatever was happening in your head.

"How do you feel?" He asked aprehensively, putting a hand on your shoulder, saying that you were still fine...sort of. He clearly meant that sensation in your body. Somehow it became stronger than before, indicating that the defeat of this Yaoguai was necessary for...something that you didn't know.

You touched your forehead, frowning, trying to perceive what was moving around you that was trying to call you upon something—maybe another bell? It felt like water, a stream that was slowly pushing you around in a certain direction.

"I don't know... I'm fine, but... umm." You still were trying to remember something—maybe a detail.

Last time,. when he fought that old wolf, you weren't sure of who he was—yet, he spoke of a master—maybe the bear.

"Listen," you asked to the monkey. "That old wolf...back at the bell, do you think you know who could have been?"

The monkey started thinking about it, trying to search in his head about wolves and such, which were a lot in the journey. After thinking about a wolf that played the part of the monk, he remembered a name.

"Well, if that one was Guangmou, and he seemed to know the form of the wolf, maybe he was Guangzhi?"

"Guangmou? Guangzhi? I remember now!" The keeper's voice resonated again. Those names must have clicked in the memory of the monkey too; he started to move around, caressing his chin, remembering the passages of the story.

"They were... in the Guanyin temple as disciples... right?"

"Yes!" The keeper kept it on. "The evil monks abetted Elder Jinchi to burn the Great Sage and Tang Monk alive...That's these two! ...I thought they were already turned into ashes by that fire. Who would have thought that they had turned into yaoguais?"

"Wait, wait, wait!" You moved your hand in the hair. "They were dead, right? Then how did they -"

"It's not possible." The monkey stopped you. "There's nothing that can bring back someone that is dead—nothing in this world at least."

"It's so confusing. Even if someone can do that, why? Why bring them back?"

Your companion kept on piundering...then noticed the road that was going on, deep between the bamboo plants. He painted it with his staff, looking at you with a small smile.

"Your strange feeling could help us in this, i suppose."

It felt strange; even with this abnormality, he kept on trusting you, even encouraging you to follow it. You smiled with him, looking at the road ahead of you. Deep down, you wondered if following it was a good idea, if it wasn't just a terrible joke of your mind or a sickness of some sort, but in any case it wasn't like you had a by-choice.

It was a voice calling to you to bring something that no one else could. Like asking to finish a story kept untold.

And, as before, the monkey led you his hand, following you somewhere deep in the mountain.

The walk was long but awfully easy; there were no obstacles or strange encounters. It was so strange to find no enemy on your path, but at least this didn't distract you on this small mission on you. At the end of a path, inside a crazing in the mountain, you both found yourself on the other side; the forest kept on going on without the hope to end, the fog thicker than ever. 

"It's here. I can sense it; something is around!"

"I don't see anything... Are you sure?" He stopped, noticing a small glow on the end of a small stair made of rock. There ,it was there.

Like the last time, you found a bell identical to the first one that you had already found. A dizziness came to you; you couldn't stop looking at that damn thing without the desire of ringing it. He felt that desire of yours; his hand grasped the rope of the trunk connected to the bell. And yet he esitaded, remembering your state at the first one.

"Listen, I don't know what's going on with you, but please, "he pleaded," talk to me. I need you to trust me and tell me everything."

Even now, he asked you to believe in him, but how could you if you even couldn't trust your own feelings? Were those instincts true? Being taken to another world was enough, but start seeing visions? 

But his decision, his strength, his faith in you... You nodded, your hand on the iron surface of it.

"I'll tell you everything. I'm ready. Go."

He answered your request; the roar of the instrument shocked you from your core, and then you saw it again.

The boy becomes a man, a trusted and renowned monk between his peers and elders. His words could reach hearts, and yet something was amiss. His heart longed for something so trivial, so simple...robes?

When you came back to your senses, his arms were holding you, moving you to try to take you back on his earth. 

"Y/n! Y/n ! Please stay with me!" 

His voice called you several times, and you tried to shake your head, feeling heaviness on your shoulder. Was supposed to be this painful every time?!

"Old Kepper! Y/n...It's happening again!"

"I have an ominous feeling..." The keeper had reached you once again, stating that there was in fact something off there. "Child...what do you feel?"

The monkey helped you sit on the ground, holding you by your shoulder, looking at you worried that you could just get worse than before.

"It's like...there's someone that wants me to know something...and I feel this...pain, this rage...everytime the bell rings, it's like when you open a window and the dust comes out."

"Ummm..after the bell rang, it seems as though the resentment in the depths of the mountain has grown."

"Is it... is it possible that is something that's forcing you to go through this? Why?!"

"Forget it," the keeper shush the monkey. "Overthinking won't help. Your presence has already messed up the mountain."

The monkey takes you in his arms, slowly moving towards where you came from. You held to him strongly, feeling the tenderness of his warmth around you. You sighed, wondering if it was your fault if everything was going to be more difficult than it wasn't already.

"Oh, came on! What are those elong faces?!" The keeper's voice had become a little more joyful. "Why not go ahead and take them out once and for all?"

"You mean finishing what we started?"

"Exactly, little monkey! You had done the impossible already; stopping now is just nonsense, don't you think?"

The monkey still mumbled, sighing about the nickname, but he had more important matters.

"Hey, about what I saw..."

"You don't have to tell me now if you're tired."

"How can I be tired on this thrilling adventure?"

You both laughed at your small retort. At least you didn't lose your funny bone.

"Alright...so there was a boy..."

You talked all the way on. It felt nicer this time, being able to express what you saw, your feelings, and the fact that the higher you were going, the deeper that resentment started to grow. You started to wonder, Where are those souls of the monks that were killed in the fire? The monkey explained to you that, in the story, everything was done by the hand of the Elder Jinchi, just because he wanted to obtain one of the treasures of the monk, a golden Kasaya.

"That explains why I saw those robes in my vision. It's such a shame; he seemed like a respected guy."

"Oh, he was. He could live a longer life than anyone," responded the monkey. "I guess that he just needed that push to lose himself."

"And the two encouraged him..."

"Yes, they did... and now they were back... I wonder if-" He stopped, hearing something in the distance. Between the cracking and the cry of the wooden bridges that you were crossing, someone was calling for help. At the edge of the wooden structure, between the branches of a tree, something fluffy and black was trying to avoid the spire of a Yaoguai that was trying to catch it, moving his limbs and launching several small sticks or pine cones. The guai, a snake, seemed interested in that thing that completely ignored your and your friend's presence. After having noticed that the black fuffy thing had a tail, you figured out, in surprise, what it was.

"It's a monkey!"

"Where?!"

"There! On that tree!" He took you down, careful not to drop you from his hands, and suddenly started to rush towards the other monkey that had spotted him in the distance.

"COME! COME! Help a big brother and give them a drubbing!"

The snake wasn't a match for your companion, and, as soon as it was taken for, the monkey jumped down from the branch. His fur and skin were pitch black, decorated with jaded pearls and other small gems, reminding of some beard decoration. His robes were old and raggy, just like a few parts of his furr; maybe this place wasn't that good for his life. Why was he there anyway?!

"These snake guai are nothing to fear!" said his chirping voice, but werem'ty himself the one that was hiding?!"Snake gall stepped kin drink, though, makes a fine tonic to flush malady!"

He started to walk inside the wall of the rock, showing a small grotto in the mountain.

"Here here, young friend! Be my guest inside!"

Another new encounter; surely this mountain was quite alive, the monkey thought. Hey, did he say malady?! He riushed towards you with a new idea—a good one even!

"So... I guess you don't know him, right?"

"Yup! But he may have something to help you with your strength! So....HERE!"

Without a second guess, he marched with you in the cave. The first thing that caught your attention was the strong and pointy smell of alcohol, which was quite unique in these parts, with some exception. There, on the other hand, was quite stronger. Around the jars that emitted that smell, maybe it was where the product was refined, but it was abnormal to find someone ready to prepare some wine here in a temple in the first place, right?

"Well well... I'd stake you're one more monkey from Mount Huaguo." He said, pointing to your friend. Then his eyes looked at your tired expression, "And you...another Bián huá, i presume... I've met many of you."

What a grave and sconsolated tone... He must have seen so many of his own kind around these parts, trying to recollect the relic, and who knows how many he had to bury. He looks so old, so old and tired...and a little drunk too, based on the smell.

"Who are you... um..."

"Shen, young friend. By rank of birth, you all ought to call me forefather... eh, but I'm just an old monkey banished to the mortal world."

"Banished?" that small information picked up your interest. "Why so?"

"Oh, stories as old as the world, little one... but what about her, young friend?"

"Oh," the monkey let you down from his arms; your legs kept bubbling here and there like a small dawn. "She... well, she has been through a lot."

"Ah, a small thing like you? Poor little one... " The old monkey, Shen, said with a pinch of tenderness. His long fingers caressed your forehead, moving away a few strands of hair from your face, constating that you were in fact quite pale. "I may have the right thing for you."

He then started to roam through his staff, a series of bottles scattered along with an old chest. It seemed like he had never taken care of those staff or, maybe, he once did but started to lose interest at some point.

"There...the tonic I told you about before, my friend! A gulp, and you'll be good as knew!" He chirped, holding to you the small bottle.

You observed the small coccon; the glass was thick and difficult to see isnide, but the color was similar to the tea as tones. You opened it, and suddenly, a rancid smell came to your nostrills; it was so bad—acid, almost irony. You had to cover your face to avoid any surprises.

"What...is this?!"

"Just a small tonic for your poor body, my dear! A big gulp, and you'll be better than ever!"

"Do I have to?"

The monkey looked at you, raising an eyebrow. Where are you really rejecting his gift? Soom, you felt a cape of cold over you, looking at that questoning face. Then you looked at the younger monkey. He motioned with his head to just do it.

The savor was... unique... a bad unique.

You tingle and throat were burning like fire; you started to cough so hard that your eyes started to weep; you wanted to bute the ofrefather's hand and use it to clean your tongue! He just stood there, satisfied with you and the younger one; that was more considered to avoid any comments about the event.

After a few minutes of you trying to breathe, you found yourself so much in strength... that you bunked the older monkey in his head with the small bottle of the tonic.

"Do you want me dead?!"

"Even if I would, you seem pretty alive!"

"THIS IS NOT THE CASE!"

And, under the face of a really amused and quite holding his laugh monkey, you kept on bickering about the strange substance that he had offered you, giving him in fact a nice and enjoyable day.

///

"Remember young friends: a sip makes one tipsy, many sips make one hammered!"

"AHAH! See you soon, Mr. Shen!"

You laughed, the last one after many in those hours that you spent alongside the old Shen Monkey. The younger one couldn't suppress the smile on his face seeing you all back in your cheerfulness. You seemed full of strength even. Maybe it was one more friendly encounter with a nice soul or the tonic, but whatever it was, you were now back in your tracks.

"So, feel better?"

"Yes! We can move on now!"

And so, the two of you started to move forward again, except that this time the area was...different. No more bamboo groves; even the tree seemed to have disappeared; now all around you was just water. You had passed a waterfall where you came from, but here the water was still as a lake.

It wasn't deep; in fact, when the monkey landed his first step in it, he could easily move without obstacles like mud or algae.

"It's a marsh... Here, the rocks stop the waters that came from the rainy season."

"A nice place for some snake to live,?" You retorded, trying to avoid the discomfort of moving with your boots soaked wet.

When you put your feet in the water, you felt like something was shjocking you. You almost tripped from the surprise, only to be supported by your friend.

"Hey! You're okay?!"

"I... umm...." you touched your forehead. "Someone is here."

"Frogs?"

"Neh, not those kinds of guais... something else."

You looked around; the fog around you was thicker than ever. Maybe this was the place where it originated from? But even if thick, it couldn't hide the silhouette of something in the distance.

"A temple?" you whispered, fearing to be heard by that someone.

The monkey looked at you and started to lead you to that place, knowing that following your strange power could only lead you both to your mission and more.

The closer you get, the more the structure starts to take on a more visible shape. What was left of a temple? It seemed still in good shape. Two fires were lit at the side of it, and a few old coloms of rock stood between the water and the plants, nature taking back and conquering.

A gentle breeze blowed, the swamp straw gently moving like feathers. It seems so magical; no sounds could be heard, only the croak of the frogs and some insects.

"Hailed bird, hailed bird!

What dimmed your shine?"

A voice started to sound in the swamp. The arm of your friend instantly shielded you.

"Past's grip, beyond our grasp.

The future, we may still clasp."

Another poem? This one was strange...future? A metal sound grasped your attention; something fast was moving towards you from the sky. The monkey suddenly grabbed you, jumping away while something collided with the water and the rocky ground of the swamp. A spear, its blade sinuous like a snake.

After having been freed from the ground, the owner of the same weapon called it back to him.

It was a man...or at least he seemed that, but his scaly blueish skin, yellow reptile eyes, and his fangs—he was a snake with human features? or a human with snake features?

"Late is the hour, young one..." he moved slowly towards the two of you, his voice calm and controlled. "In which you choose to stain my tranquil abode."

"We," you raised your hand, "didn't want to disturb you! WE just-"

"I know what it led you here, Bián huá..." You gasp, he... he knows who you were?! Shen monkey did know, because he was a monkey, but... this Guai...

"My question here... is for the destined one..so..." he rose his spear,pinting the blade towards him. "Pray tell, to what end do you seek?"

The clasp of their weapon echoed with the sound of the water that was moved in the fight. Despite being so near, that monster never ever laid his weapon at you. More than once, he had taken the rightfull distance to not let you fall under their clash, almost like he tried to avoid you harm.

And his talk... between some attacks, he kept on saying strange phrases...

"Bane and bliss, summoned by deeds...do you still not see it?!"

What in heaven name was he talking about?=! What deeds?! From the beginning, he was just a mysterious snake!....or...He was? Something seems so off with you; could the monkey feel it too? He was already different from the other snakes, not that Guangmou was very snake alike, but... you don't know, he had something that made him stand against the other...

The fight kept on and on; both of them were far too skilled, but eventually the monkey seemed to have prevailed against the snake. He fell to the ground, his hand gripping the rock at the bed of the swamp, clearly enraged by his defeat.

"You have forced my hand..."

He was planning something; he didn't disappear like the others! He slowly disappeared into the water, while his voice was still well received. His face is still visible between the surface of the water and the air.

"Now you shall face what I truly am!"

His body has changed; in a series of splashes he had remetrified, his legs completely fused into a lost spire, a long blue tail that you couldn't see the end of. His attacks now were more aggressive, swifter, and more frequent than before. The monkey had difficulty avoiding them, but every time was ready to come back to his own two feet.

"Denying fate means DEATH!"

Death?! Fate?! He meant the fact that he was the destined one?! You tried to stay out of the fight, but you noticed something. His hairs were tied in an elegant golden hair crown; warrior attire was now covering his body, and he was no longer the snake that you two had met but a man—a noble man...

"W-what..." The monkey kept fighting, the water still splashing. No, only you could see that? He had changed! You get close, a few steps, trying to see better that strange incantation, without noticing the water blade that the monkey was able to evade, and...you were in the trajectory!

"Y/n!" your friend's voice echoed; he launched towards you, but before he could act, a long tail sgrabbed you, throwing you away before you could get hurt. Your body collided with the water and the stone, but it was this or sliced in two by some very thin and strong water eject.

When you rose your head from the water, his eyes were back in those yellow creepy orbs, watching you intently. He didn't move, he didn't act—he knew what you saw.

In that instant, the staff of the monkey collided with him; the strike was lethal enough, and he was sent flying away. He was finished, but he still had enough strength to stand up.

"HALT!" he screamed, using his spear to rise up. "No ill will I bear! I'm only my brother's eyes and ears. I feign my loyalty to guard this path on the bear's order!"

"Feign?" the monkey steps closer, looking at him. "Who's your brother?! And why are you doing this?"

The snake smiled; the only response he gave was another poem.

"Your destiny's bleak and stark. In its grip, we share the mark."

"Enough riddles!" The monkey was clearly frustrated, but before he could lose his patience, your hand had reached his arm to clamp him down.

"He's not what we see! He's......he's not...."

The snake smiled, so you did see through... He stood up, looking back, to the path behind the temple.

"The Guanyin temple now lies in cinders, yet the Elder's soul endures..." He started to show some pain; he was reaching his limits. 

Your eyes widened. The soul of the Elder? ...Elder Jinchi?! ...the man in your visions?! The malevolent feeling you felt, thaty weight...it was him?! His soul was still there, rotting in that place?!

"The root of greed ever fosters the storm of suffering. Better to forget the things you truly seek."

The last poems, before turning to ashes... but he hasn't stopped because his voice left one last message that both of you heard loud and clear.

"The three bells... Have you seen them all? Do you, too, desire that which they ceaselessly hold dear?"

"The bells?" The keeper's voice had finally come back.

"Uh? Do you... remembered something, old keeper?" You said, still quite shocked by what happened, while squeezing your casca from the water.

"Three bells were set in the mountain since the Black Wind Guai's return, "he said, "yet no one is allowed to go near them."

"Umm...this is...quite strange, even for a Yaoguais such as the Black Wind Bear," said the monkey, getting near you. "And every time we were close to one, you had the urge to find them."

"Maybe," the Keeper continued, "the bells have something to do with the temple's burning."

"Well, every time we rang them, I felt like something was moving—the restements you were talking about before the old one...but how did he know these things? And..." you looked where the path was taking on. "...should we trust what he said?"

"His words sound like truth to me, children. Stay sharp and keep a lookout!"

You two stayed in silence for a few seconds, then the monkey slapped your head.

"OUCH!" you screamed, holding it. "What's that for?!"

"It's less painful than being sliced in two! Why did you come so close to the fight?!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it! It just...something happened...he...changed?" 

"Yeah, he became a long snake..."

"NOT THAT! He was...human..more human..and he saved me..did you see that?"

Of course he saw that, but admit that he was confused just as you couldn't help your actual situation.

///

After another walk in the water, you were able to finally spot the final bell. Art the top of a rock stairs, towered in the only dry area that you've found around there, but, beside the ominous feeling that kept cvraving down your skin, what really caught your eyes was the secrecy in front of the stairs: wolves, sitting down in reverence of the body of another wolf. His fur was white as snow, and his robes resembled the same color as himself, alongside some silver and blue decoration. Even as a corpse, his expression was not one of pain but despair and sorrow.

"What......is that?" You whispered, your eyes glued to that hanged figure. The wolves, with their sharp ears, heard your voice in the silence of the forest and were already armed to fight.

"I'll take care of that." and with that, the monkey was already into the fight.

This time, instead, you stepped in before he could harm the last wolf standing, one that holed a òlantern in his paw.

"Wait! Don't harm him! I have questions!" The monkey, alongside the wolf, looked at you clearly confused. The wolf, on the other hand, sighed in realief, depsite seeing his own comrade dissipate in the hair. You git closer, the monkey still near enough to strike the last blow to the wolf if anything was sketchy for him.

"I don't have anything to share with you, human!"

"I know...I'm sorry for your friends...but, please, I need to know! Why are you here?"

The wolf kept his mouth screaming until the pressure of the staff started to point to his head.

"We were here to pay respect to our fallen leader, Lingxuzi."

You both suddenly remembered the words of the old keeper. He did say about a successor that came after the old one, but the story said that he was beaten by Sun Wukong, not hanged! And the body was... fresh?

"But...his death happened a long time ago," the monkey said, pointing to the hanged one. "How can that be?"

"The bleack bear!" cried the wolf. "He had found it! The secret to take back the deceased from the land of the dead!"

"He did...what?!" You stepped in. "But if he was back to life, why was he killed?!"

"Human...he was not killed...he hanged himself, for the shame of the cost of the ritual!"

"What cost?" The monkey snarled between his teeth.

"Many lives...for one life... Many of my brothers take their lives for his comeback, but that wasn't what he wanted, I suppose."

You gasped, covering your mouth with your hand. You kept looking at what now was more like a desperate soul than a Yaoguai. He killed himself because he couldn't bear that kind of guilt for others to die for himself. It was painful. Did the bear know about this?! He just gave the name to another...did he even care?

Noticing your look full of grief, the monkey takes back his weapon.

"Leave," snarled the wolf. The other trotted away, more scared for his life to care for what was happening. A few moments of silence passed, and the monkey noticed how much these new informations started to form some answer to your questions AND WHATEVER WAS DRIVIGN YOU.

This feeling, this pain, and these resentments—all of this was the doing of the black bear. Resurrecting the dead, moving them like pawns...what was his game?!

He took your hand, snapping you out of your river of thought.

"It's the last one. Are you ready?"

"..." You nodded; you weren't, but now the desire to know was stronger than anything else.

And, so the bell once again echoed through the mountain and the forest, birds flying away scared from the wave provoked by them. You were ready to see... but you saw nothing. What you felt. Instead, it was like a pure mass coming towards you, like a valanche of nothing but hate and sorrow. You felt your hair being taken from you. And while you heard the voice of the Destined one calling for you, the light started to fade.

///

A smell of smoke was all around you; small, dead leaves scratched your face.

A light in the distance, everything was dark—that wasn't the sun...

Your eyes were wide open when you realized what was in the distance: a massive fire; everything was burning. People were screaming for help, to stop the fire, for pain. The silhouette of someone holding a long staff, resting peacefully on a tree, admiring from there the view of this terryging sight. You couldn't get his features, but... it had a tail.

"M...monkey?"

You trembled saying that name, but more when you heard him giggle.

"Eh...serve him right... wasn't so pious. After all, if the master is safe, then...nothing else matters."

His canine showed when he smirked; Golden eyes glowed in the dark.

///

"Y/N!! Y/N!!! CAME ONE, OPEN YOUR EYES!"

And suddenly, you were back. You started to cough. Your lungs were like engulfed with smoke from the fire that you saw. You needed a few moments to regail some fresh hair, but the smell of smoke was still around you like a ghost.

"Oh gods, are you okay?! You fainted all of a sudden!" You were, in fact, on the ground; he was supporting your shoulder with his arms, watching you try to breathe correctly.

"I... I think... I think I am? I'm...w...we...oh God..where are we?!"

Around you, the vibrant green of the forest was gone, such as the light of the sun. Around you, everything was dark, gray, and decaying. In front of you, a stair and the entrambe of... a temple? It seemed familiar...

"I don't know," the monkey said while helping you get up. "Everything is a blur. I only remember that we rang the bell and then we were here."

Yes, but...where here?

It was, in fact, a forest, but everything seems so dead, from the colors to the plants; even the rocks seemed out of life. In the distance, the howling of wolves intensified, yet it seemed more grim than it was already before. You still felt that horrible smell of smoke and burned around yourself, but for some reason the monkey seemed unfazed by it. Wait, could he even smell that? 

It felt difficult to breathe already, but you needed to push on, at least until you two were able to understand where that strange bell decided to take you. In front of you, the gate of a very familiar temple was open, like to invite you in—a eerie welcome.

Holding each other hand, the two of you entered the temple, finding no other option available at the moment and...

"Wait, hold on...this is..."

"Yeah," responded the monkey. "I think this is... but it cannot be right?"

The structures at the side of the gate to the backyard, the big forecourt that opened in front of you, the small shrine in front of the tree—it was the Guanyin temple?! It was! But... it was like it was destroyed, and that tree seemed dead for a long time...

"This can't be right; it was in place when we left it!" You exclaimed, alarmed by the state of the place.

The monkey poundered a little. You were right—this couldn't be the right place! But everything seems the same, and... then an idea crossed his mind.

"We're... back in time?"

"What?!"

"We're back. We're back after the Kasaya accident! After the defeat of the black wind, Guai!"

"Oh, please!" you scoffed and coffed again. "How is this even possible?!"

"Well, it wasn't possible to resurrect the dead, and here we are!"

"All right, even so, why did the bells decide to take us here?!

The monkey couldn't respond, but his eyes were glued to the door of the backyard, shut close. You understood; the only option was to go forward.

When the two of you reached the closed door, you noticed a small sound coming from there—it seemed like someone was rustling or moving around.

"Do you heard that?"

"The monkey's face was serious. He looked at you, his iron grip on your hand, ready to put you to safety.

You two needed to push the door to make just one of the two open, and when you were finally able to understand the object of those noises, you two were in shock.

You met that thing before, but you were so tired that you weren't sure, but the monkey knew that thing. It was roaming the mountain...but this couldn't be the same one, right?

His proportions were quite messy, a head far too big for his body, even in his massiveness.

and a red robe that maybe once had seen better days. What really caught your attention was not his statue, but the fact that he was completely covered in gold—no, he was made of gold!

Despite that, his face was shattered by darklines that reminded him of cracks, from his head, covered in strange needles, to his face. His eyes were shut closed, but when the two of you entered the backyard, his attention was immediately towards you.

"Oh! Thank Amitabha! Ah ah, Oh, finally then, the three bells sang!"

Your coughing increased again, and the smell of smoke got stronger than before. The monkey grips became stronger, fearing to know who was that creature in front of him.

"Disciples come!" He started moving around, calling for... no one? "I hear travelers approaching my temple! Carrying new treasures!"

"New...treasures?" You whispered, afraid to know what was going to happen. The monkey realized who he was by his words—that bear was really a despicable one.

"That man... that thing... is the Elder Jinchi."

"T-The elder? He was...bringed back?!"

"I'm afraid that what the bear had brought back is the worst of that man."

The Elder joyfukll movements stopped; he started to sniff around, maybe called by one of your scents.

"I cannot see you... but I recognize your odor! And...oh...oooh..." His expression...seemes like infatuated "something new...something precious...but...it cannot be you?" As the monkey stepped closer, the monster stepped back, afraid of who was in front of him. "You are back?! And...with you, the monk?! No, no, it cannot be! Burn, he must have had burn!"

Wait...back? ... Did he mistake the monkey for the Great Sage?! How could he remember his scent from all these years?! And was he referring to you as something precious?! His expression changed again, now less frightened, more angry. He just remembered something.

"It must be you who took that kasaya! NOW GIVE IT BACK!"

Around you, from the ashes, bodies started to rise, emaciated as skeletons and without real life. The monks who died in the fire started to roam the backyard once the Elder started to attack the monkey. Your friend was fast enough to send you back; your poor body just started to contract for the amount of coughing. You couldn't beath! Everything was just smoke! You couldn't help in any case, even now!

Despite his giant stature, that creature was fast and swift, and his attacks were aways made to take the monkey out of his legs. Not to mention those corpses roaming around! Attacking and defending—he needed to do them at the same time! And those corpses hid more disadvantage for him when they started to explode in some kind of golden energy!

"Bring me his treasure! BRING IT TO ME!"

Treasure?! The elder started to float in the air. shrouded by a golden aura and the bodies

They seemed like in a trance, and...they were ignoring him?! He was there in front of them, and... he had seen them reaching the door, towards your pained body, still trying to catch some air in your lungs!

"Y/N!" He launched towards them, starting to beat them until nothing was left of them but dust.

"You need to move! THEY'RE COMING FOR YOU!"

You tried to rise, to move, but you had enough strength to do that. Why was that happening?! The monkey kept on fighting, but there were so many! You looked at him, trying to avoid more attacks and still defending you. No, this couldn't be the end!

"S..st...O..." You couldn't speak; you forced your lungs to work.

"Sto...p..." He was almost surrounded; that old monster savored what he was protecting!

"STOP!"

A folden aura appeared, like an aurora in the air, and...all of them stopped. The symbol of the immobilize spell...

The monkey looked around; everything was still. They stopped. You made them stop? With the spell?!

He cleared every one of those monks until the Elder fell down from whatever kind of magic he was doing, shocked and afraid by what had just happened. The monkey needed to take care of that old monk when he could, using the result of your spell on the others to finish the fight!

He needed some more time but, at some point, the Elder stopped his attacks, looking around, dejected.

"Two hunderd...and seventy years spent..." he was crying. The monkey ran towards you, holding you in his arms, hearing you stop coughing, now lying still. "Kasayas collected...by the hundreds...still one short...without hi..."

He was...resented, maybe? By his action? His gold started to fade in fine dust, slowly erasing himself.

"No, no, no! Stop, stop, stop!" He started to panic again, looking around, searching for someone. "Guangzhi! Guangmou! That kasaya...leave it...just leave it! Stop the fire! Please stop..."

And, while calling his disciple for stopping the ootrageus act he had done, he fanisced in a fog made of golden dust.

///

In your dreams, you saw the old man. He loved that piece of cloth, gold like the sun and the fire. He wished for it deeply, unaware that the same cloth was his future demise.

Just for that, he accepted to do what no man should do, accepting the atrocities that the fire could do to the temple. He couldn't bear the pain, so he ended his life.

And while the fire consumed everything, someone watched in the distance, aware that his treasure was secure and protected.

When you woke up, the forest was back to life. Green was all around you; the smell of the near swamp too.

The smoke was gone, your lungs free. You were in the arms of the monkey that was massaging his own head.

"...What...happened?"

"You...you awake," he said, smiling. "Nothing much. I think we're just back."

He raised his eyes towards the hanging wolf; you followed them, admitting yourself that you both were in fact back at the present—your own present. As soon as he helped you to stand up, the body of the wolf disappeared in the hair, leaving something on the ground. You both jumped by that strange event, not like the others were normals, but the strange coincidence was scary enough. The monkey used his staff to move what the body had left. It seemed safe, so he took the small bundle in his hand.

A small piece of cloth, closed by a string of rope, the color was a deep red and, at the touch, was cold as metal.

"What a strange thing..."

"Do you know what it is?"

The monkey shaken his head, clearly confused as you. A gasp emerged from the depths of the forest.

"The fireproof mantle!" The Keeper was back again. "The Great Sage borrowed it from Virupaksa. How did it end up here?"

"Viru....who?"

"One of the Heavenly Kings" responded the monkey, "But still... I don't know. This mission is full of strange events that I can't comprehend."

You nodded, feeling your strength coming back. You were able to stand on your feet, still tumbling, but fine.

"I can breathe better now. I don't know what happened before, but I feel much better now."

"You must have freed that miserable soul, children... such is his end." He sighed, while you felt in fact that now the feeling of pressure, the darkness around you, and that block over your chest were now gone. By vanquishing him, the monkey was able to free him. It felt reasonable...

"A tragedy prologued by a single glance..." continued the Keepers, sighing, remembering how tragic was the edn of the monk and his disples, but, after all, wasn't that their own doing? 

"It's getting late. Let's hurry up to the mountain!"

The monkey was ready to move on, but he saw you... perplexed... or more undecided about something that was roaming your mind.

"What you saw scared you so much?" He spooked. Look at you with kindness and comprehension.

You gulped. It wasn't about the Eòder that you were worried about, but about something else. Wukong could have stopped the Elder. He didn't do anything. He just watched.

"Listen...I saw... something about Sun Wukong...about the fire and..." You scratched your arm; how could you say that?! He wanted to resurrect him! Yes, the elder was bad, as were his disciples, but he wasn't anything different! He let them do it; he didn't stop them! How many lives could he have saved that night?!

The monkey noticed your worry; he stabbed his staff in the ground, putting his hand on his jips.

"What I mean,"" you continued, "is... he had done something horrible. Does he need to be revived?"

"I know your worries," he kept on going, "and...you're right, he had done something terrible to begin with... But he had changed."

"How can you be sure about it?"

"Well, we know that he repented, and he was punished for every act of violence that he did... but you don't have to forgive his action." He said again, holding your hands. "And besides, if he stays dead, how can you go back home?"

"You right," you smiled after hours. "But I'm going to kick his ass for every monk that died because of him!"

He just laughed again, but the small seed of curiosity now was planted in his head too.

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[sweetlittlelamb]

For the Ask HC game:

♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon

For Dammon and Zevlor please 😊

Thank you for the ask!!

Zevlor:

Quirks: He needs to sleep with a candle/lantern lit.

Unlike the other tieflings, he doesn't actually have darkvision. I'd like to take this one step further and say that he not only doesn't have special tiefling night vision, but he doesn't even have regular human night vision either. To me, he is ✨️ night-blind ✨️

He's also a paladin who's seen plenty of battle before and a survivor of the Hells, so I feel like trauma nightmares are a pretty standard thing for him. Waking up from a night terror to pitch blackness would be disorienting, so he likes to have a little bit of light to help with that.

Plus, on the more silly side of my headcanon: there's that stereotype about older men having to get up and pee a bunch of times in the middle of the night, so having a light to find his way to the toilet/watercloset would be extremely helpful for that poor night-blind old man👍

Hobbies:

Reading. He is an absolute bookworm and specifically loves biographies and non-fiction. His room in the Druid's Grove has a few loose books laying around, and a couple of them are just travel guides but there a few that he seems to be reading for pleasure. All 3 of them are biographies or histories.

One of those books is 'Front and Centre: A Thespian's Memoir' and the description of it is "An insightful reflection on becoming someone new." Sure, maybe he's just reading it to help him come to terms with needing to find a new identity after his Elturel Hellrider life was ripped away from him, but maybe he picked out that one in particular because it was written by his favourite actor.

One of his other hobbies is watching live theatre and you cannot convince me otherwise. He doesn't like the musical plays, though. He's mainly just a huge fan of whatever the Faerun-version-of-Shakespeare is.

Dammon:

Quirks: I already mentioned his tone-deafness here, but in my brain this man absolutely cannot hold a tune at all yet still sings and whistles when he's happy (to the misfortune of anyone within earshot).

Hobbies: This guy is definitely a heavy reader of romance novels. There's that smutty one we find in his room as proof, and who knows how many more are tucked around his house?

He also seems to be very artistically inclined. The way he discusses and handles his blacksmithing sounds like someone who not only enjoys the work, but also (rightfully) considers it an artform. When he's not making armour and weapons, I think that he really enjoys making metal sculptures and embellishments and fancy little bits of filigree to spice up his home.

I think he enjoys sketching and drawing, too. It fits his creative personality very well and it's super easy to picture him absentmindedly sketching his partner and the local stray cats in the margins of his metalworking blueprints. His journal in Baldur's Gate mentions him barely being able to hold a pen after working the forge all day, so I don't think he'd be able to indulge in this particular hobby very often at first.

Once he gets an apprentice to help around the forge and he finally has more free time away from the anvil, then he'd start to get back into this style of art again.