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GENTLE PSA; the best way to interact with me is through memes. you could send that thing @ me even though i’ve posted it five months ago and i’d still answer and appreciate it. it’s hard to think up starters out of the blue unless they’re plotted, but memes are just good and gives you a general idea of what’s happening. so please, if you see a meme on my blog, SEND THE MEME.
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since it is my birthday, who wants to give my muse(s) a gift? heheh send an ask ~ 🪷
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General Jing Yuan considered himself quite lucky to have kept a secret from nearly everyone in his counsel, for such a long time.
That secret being, he harbored a strange power inside of him that was probably highly illegal.
Most Xianzhou natives who became mara-struck, as it turned out, would panic, and desperately try to suppress it, to no avail. Jing Yuan, on the other hand, accepted mara, and did not fight it. Whenever his head began to throb, Jing Yuan figured that he just needed some rest, and sat down with his favorite tea until the headache sorted itself out. And honestly, he hadn’t even realized that what he was doing was allowing mara to flow into him and settle. The mara accepted him, and relinquished control, sparing his sanity. He did not transform into an abomination, but neither did he remain entirely human.
It wasn’t until the stellaron crisis, and research into the mysterious Disciples of Sanctus Medicus, that he’d realized he’d inadvertently taken control of mara, and that he could unleash incredible power. That power would be the only thing that could ultimately defeat the lord ravager of Destruction. It was all for the sake of the continued prosperity of the Luofu.
And yet, if anyone were to find out about the general’s strange constitution, he probably should be locked away in the Shackling Prison for eternity.
Perhaps Dan Heng realized it, when he carried the general to safety, but he would keep the secret. And thank goodness Hanya was willing to put up with his shenanigans for a little longer, helping him to figure out how to stop branches from growing from his head and keep control of his human form. And that was all. He could keep this secret from anyone, even from his disciple Yanqing. Even from Diviner Fu Xuan, who had been conveniently left outside of where the incident took place.
Ah... who am I kidding? I can't keep this from Fu forever. But... I have to try.
Indeed it felt as if Fu Xuan's piercing gaze was fixed on him even more than usual, after the crisis had been resolved. Jing Yuan's odd traits showed themselves a little more.
Why did I hardly let anyone into my room while I recovered? Oh, because I hate for anyone to see me at my moment of weakness, of course. But I made a swift recovery, so don't you worry.
Oh, I'm picking leaves out of my hair? The wind blew them all over me and they got caught, heheh.
What does it matter if sometimes I'm hungry and sometimes I'm not? My strength remains just the same anyway, don't worry.
Why am I working outside? Why not? The sky is bright and I love how warm it is right now. What did you say? Am I a plant? Hahahah...
The general was good at deflecting, at washing away worries with a smile, and the diviner usually rolled her eyes and realized it wasn't worth pursuing the matter. Maybe she knew she was being played with, but she had to trust the general, right?
He hoped she trusted him. He pleaded silently. If she saw through him, if she saw him like this... would all respect she had for him shatter in an instant? He couldn't bear the thought.
-- @akashicsystem
#❧ {fruit of the golden tower} [jing yuan]#❧ life is as ephemeral as dew on a leaf [jingfu thread]#yes hello my weird marastruck but sane jing yuan hc#corrupted general but not really since he hasnt lost his morals and yet will his people see him as a monster?
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Ayato sensed the hints of sincerity flowing from Alhaitham's words. His face began to soften, to relax.
"Ah... of course, I can help you. I know how much you're unused to this sort of thing. I can guide you, I can help you with anything that you need. That's what I'm here for."
Ayato stepped forward and found himself gently taking each of Alhaitham's hands in his. Did he feel a pang of guilt for his earlier thought of leaving Alhaitham in the hallway all alone? Perhaps. Now Ayato knew how much the man truly needed his help.
"I'm sorry for the confusion... I'm here for you. What do you need?"
Past his pitifully warm smile, did it occur to Ayato that he seemed more pathetic than he felt inside? Maybe, but he pushed those feelings aside. He couldn't help but take the opportunity handed to him, his bleeding heart wouldn't let him do otherwise. Was I right? Has my plan truly stirred something within him? I was so silly to let my confidence waver.
Alhaitham tried to contain the disappointment on his face. Of course Ayato wouldn’t let go of his mask so easily. He thought for a moment about how to best reassure the other man without making either of them look like a fool. Ayato saw compliance and agreement as positive signifiers, so he knew he had to slip back into a position of agreeableness, even if he didn’t feel like Ayato necessarily deserved it.
He lets his shoulders droop and puts on a bit of a show, looking up through the hair swept over his eyes. Alhaitham leaned into him, drawing from his well of fear and insecurity- if he could show that he was vulnerable, needing the help of someone, maybe Ayato would come back and work with him. A part of him whispered that he was lying, manipulating, being dishonest- but if Ayato wouldn’t play honest with him, why should he?
“Ayato, I just want you to stay with me. I’m not good at parties, not good at people, but you are! You know how to do all the things I struggle with, and I just- I got scared you would leave me. I don’t know what I’d do otherwise, you know? I need you, I need your guidance- just, don’t run away from me, please.” It was more dramatic than he could really commit to, but he pleaded and begged all the same, hoping it would hit some switches in Ayato’s brain to indicate that things were safe again and Alhaitham wouldn’t threaten him.
He scanned the other man’s face for any signs that he was interested in that, any sort of relief that he was back in control. Alhaitham felt kind of stupid playing this behavior, but he knew other people would only do the things he wanted them to do if they felt in control. Ayato was no exception. Now, to see if he would fall for it.
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sort of a preview for my jing yuan headcanons. mara-struck jing yuan...? but also not quite? idk how to describe this i hope it makes sense ^^
i can also just mostly stick to canon. let me know if you're interested in interacting with jing yuan or expanding on this hc
Of five people… three will pay a price.
You are not one of them.
The general, staring into the piercing eyes of the man he once knew, outlined by the dim, cold light, couldn’t help but feel that this scene was too familiar.
What makes you so sure of that?

The general had been in this position many, many times before. Facing down a criminal, restrained by soldiers, meeting them one last time before they are taken away. He’d seen the faces of many sinners, some terrified, some begging for their life, and some resigned to their fate. But this man… Blade. His wry smile radiated some unknown passion. It was uncanny, how much his face almost resembled those smiles of a certain type of criminal.
The general recalled one such situation, where a sinner clad in green struggled against enchanted restraints, with wild eyes and a wide grin, giggling like a madman even though he was about to meet his end. He’d shouted at the general.
“You pass judgement upon me now for my unpardonable sin, General Jing Yuan, but what about yourself? How does a General live so long as you have without becoming mara-struck? Everyone whispers about it! You must have discovered the same secret as us, haven’t you? Judge yourself for your own sin, or join us!”
“Silence.”
The general, with his cold, unrelenting glare, shut up the laughing, raving man, and waved for him to be taken away.
That man was only taunting the general, trying to get a rise out of him. The Disciples of Sanctus Medicus were a strange breed of criminal who always laughed in the face of their demise.
But, the man’s words still stuck in the general’s mind.
I don’t know. I don’t know how I’ve lived this long.
As general, it was Jing Yuan’s sworn duty to uphold order and punish evil. He’d personally seen to it that those who follow the Plague’s Author were locked away, for years and years and years.
And throughout those years, he’d seen many faces. Some had lost their mind. Some were despicably power-hungry. And some were, or once were, ordinary citizens of the Luofu, just like anyone else.
People who’d suffered loss at the hands of Lan themself. People who tired of the limitations of medicine aimed to help Xianshou people. People frustrated with their own brand of long-life. People who just didn’t want to die.
The general began to study these so-called Disciples of Sanctus Medicus in order to stop future criminal acts, he told himself. Yes, he continued to uphold the law, to do his duty. But he couldn’t shake this nagging feeling of curiosity. After all, in order to ensure peace for the Luofu, he had to get to the root of these problems, not just the surface.
The phenomenon of becoming mara-struck was truly a mysterious one. The alchemists called it an overwhelm of emotion stemming from too many memories, of living too long. The Disciples, as the general came to learn, called it a failure to accept emotion.
The general’s old master, in her determination to overcome mara, was consumed by it. Was her end orchestrated by mara, or by herself?
Blade, the general’s old friend, seemed almost like a completely different person than who he once was, and the general studied him closely. His piercing red wild gaze truly was almost like the Disciples, almost like those mara-struck who weren’t truly gone. Blade hated himself. He hated the way mara flowed freely through his veins. But every time his new friend Kafka whispered to him, the general could see very clearly what was happening. She was telling him not to hold himself back. The general was glad his old friend had found a new one.
And the general discovered that the seal the Vidyadhara had cast upon the Ambrosial Arbor did not subdue it with force, exactly. The nourishing waters rather enveloped the tree with energy, and it soothed it until it no longer wanted to grow.
This was all evidence for the general that perhaps, the Disciples had discovered something.
But General Jing Yuan never formally joined the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus. Sure, he thought about tasting their mysterious elixir out of pure curiosity for what might happen, but he knew he didn’t need to. No, he had no need for any tricks in their books.
The truth was, long, long ago, Jing Yuan had already met mara.
It started just as the alchemists predicted. Too many centuries of acting as general began to weigh on him, memories and emotion feeling heavy, mind clogging up with golden ichor.
And the general sat down, because his head hurt, and decided that he just needed to take a break for a while.
He closed his eyes, and felt the cushion underneath envelop him, soft as a cloud. He sipped a cup of his favorite tea, and he noticed how much warmer, and how much more flavorful, the drink suddenly seemed. Prickling branches grew smoother and gradually integrated with his mind. And he let himself rest.
And when he awoke, he found himself surrounded by concerned retainers, wondering why in the world he was taking a nap in the middle of the day. And Jing Yuan only laughed. He wasn’t truly sure of the answer either, but he looked and felt much better.
And so it went on for many years. Faced with mara again, Jing Yuan would simply take a nap, or enjoy a good meal, or go out sightseeing for a while, feeling the cool breeze on his skin. His mara was never purged, but grew inside him, and relinquished control to him. But for a while, he never quite realized what was happening to him. He simply laughed at his growing reputation as the Xianzhou’s “laziest” general. It was only after he decided to look into the Disciples of Sanctus Medicus that he realized what had happened to him. Most people when stricken with mara, apparently, panicked and tried to fight it with all their might, only making it worse.
However, even if the general hadn’t needed the Disciples’ fancy tricks to become like them, his studies into the organization definitely revealed to him ways to further gain control of his own newfound power.
So had the general committed an unpardonable sin? Technically.
But he always remained loyal to his sworn duty to protect the Luofu. He had to become invincible enough to face Destruction head on.
Phantylia made the mistake of assuming General Jing Yuan’s mind was empty, that it was ripe for her to fill with her power. But Jing Yuan was filled with tragedy and victory, with agony and love, with friends lost and friends gained, and he was happy to carry all of it with him, as he gave Phantylia a wild-eyed smile while golden ichor dripped from him.
Realizing the general was a decoy, Phantylia screamed in agony, and the wounded general fell. But he was confident enough that branches would rebuild his body as he let himself fall into a pleasant sleep.
Despite everything, the general still hesitated to call himself immortal. He had always accepted the possibility that one day, even his era would come to an end. But he set his sights on enjoying every moment of his life worth living.

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i feel like the canon doesn't explain certain things fully, so, here are some of my headcanons for my gallagher ^^
he implants memories in the minds of certain people to make himself blend in to penacony (example: making woolsey and the bloodhounds believe that he was always a bloodhound and trained with them and climbed the ranks) (you can think of it like caribert from genshin). he has several slightly different "identities" depending on who you ask. he does this for the sake of his mission of course, but he also desires to feel like he belongs wherever he is. he was not created with his own destiny and story, he wants to know what it feels like to have a past. so, he experiments with different ones.
he has memories that belonged to hanunue, tiernan, and probably other important figures. he wonders whether his memories are part of his identity or if he is something else entirely
he is a follower of the enigmata, in his own way. dreams can influence people and influence reality, even if dreams are not real. dreams should not be dismissed as just "fake" and nonsensical. true order, trying to make sense of all dreams, is impossible. this is the way gallagher sees it.
he also embodies the abundance in his own sense, believing that people should be free to indulge in their own dreams without restriction or outside influence. he's a little addicted to creating new backstories for himself to chase a feeling of belonging
i have more thoughts on him but i like keeping people surprised to an extent
let me know if you want to interact with him... maybe he tries to insert himself into other places who knows~
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also, hello, i am way too shy to send out a proper promo but, if my mutuals’ mutuals will enjoy my writing feel free to message me or recommend me or send an ask ^^;
🪷
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Go on Anon and ask my muse your burning questions!
About them, about their world, about their friends- Anything!
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Send me songs that remind you of my muse.
They might go on their actual playlist!
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Give my muse an item and see how they react!
Things may or may not be added to their official inventory
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The bartender had plenty of experience with those patrons who came to forget, who lay sprawled out on tables and counters as if they could sleep their problems away, letting the flavor of drinks drown out whatever weighed on their soul. Like a responsible bartender, he’d always keep a close eye on those people.
But leaning over to get a closer look at this customer sent a jolt of shock through the bartender’s body. Sky-blue hair and feathery wings, not even hiding the shine of his halo very well. There was only one Halovian he ever knew who always hid his face behind his wings when he was trying to hide something. Even though his face was completely buried into the table… could it be? That’s not possible. Why would he be here?
The bartender almost started to regret choosing his current line of work. Heck, he shouldn’t even really be a bartender. He was already a bartender before. But something about the job just drew him in, tempted him to go back to it. Mixing a drink was like serving a dream in a cup, it was satisfying to him in a way he couldn’t figure out.
And he hadn’t even bothered to touch up his appearance much either. Sure, his hair was tied back in a rather messy bun, and he sported a pink vest that was devoid of all the badges and signifiers of a member of the Bloodhound Family, but maybe he was too used to the way he looked, or too lazy, to shave his face. He’d made sure that this was a place no one would recognize him. But that Halovian would be nearly the only person who could. Damn, he didn’t even remember whether he gave the owner a name that wasn’t Gallagher.
It scared Gallagher, not knowing whether Sunday would know who he was, not knowing what Sunday would think or do if he realized. But Gallagher couldn’t just run away from the situation. He couldn’t just ignore the man, either. Look at him. He was… well… He hadn’t even ordered a drink, and he already looked like that.
After pulling himself together, Gallagher quickly prepared a drink. With swift, practiced precision, he shook the ingredients and poured a glass. He still remembered Sunday’s tastes exactly. This man needed something to fill him up.
Gallagher took the drink over to Sunday’s table and placed it gently in front of him. He didn’t say anything. What do I even say? I didn’t think I’d ever be seeing you again. I thought you’d wanna be rid of me.
Part of Gallagher prayed to the Aeons that he wouldn’t be recognized and another part of Gallagher hoped that he would.
oops its a little long i got carried away. i just wanted to set the scene
im not sure if this actually takes place in penacony or not you decide. gally just tried to disappear but couldn't help going back to old hobbies. also his drinks don't have to be alcoholic or anything i wasn't sure.
anyway tell me what sunday's favorite flavor of drink is im curious
"mmmh...." sunday is face-down on a table, the wings on his head masking any microexpression that might give way to his emotions. other than ... the fact he's indignantly laying face-down on a table like he was little else than a playing card. he doesn't move, its hard to tell he's even breathing. "dammit," he cussed under his breath, trying to ignore the way his hands trembled if he didn't cautiously pay attention to every movement he made. / open to replies.
#❧ {dreamweaver drinksmith} [gallagher]#❧ dreams in a cup [galladay thread]#i’m kinda insane about a gallagher who has changed names and faces a million times but he’s attached to being gallagher#insane about him like not ever having had a past to run away from so now he’s not used to it#what if someone wouldn’t let him run away#and make everybody forget about him#i just have thoughts#i hope i don’t scare the shit out of sunday too bad#local man who doesn’t exist is shocked to find out he exists to someone#idk man does anyone understand me
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Ayato turned around, but he froze before he could take another step. No matter how much he wanted to make a quick escape from the predicament he'd gotten himself into, Alhaitham was right. Everyone in the living room ahead would find out how much of a coward he was.
Tentatively, he turned back to face the other man, but his stare was unfocused. Clearly he struggled trying to process what Alhaitham was trying to tell him, and doing as much as he could to look like he wasn't trembling a little.
He just didn't understand. Why was Alhaitham so angry? Ayato had done everything he could to break him out of his shell. He tried to help him. Wholeheartedly, he believed that. When he saw someone who seemed rather unhappy, the only way he knew how to remedy it was to reach inside their brain and cook up an elaborate scheme to turn those gears in a better direction. How was it possible Alhaitham suddenly turned his scheme back against him?
I had to do it this way. I have to be in control because people have tried to control me...
Ayato's hand twitched, indecisive on whether to take the other man's offer. He was too cowardly. So, he clasped his hands together and put on the brightest bravest smile he could muster. It probably came off looking incredibly desperate instead.
"Haitham..." Ayato defaulted to one of his basic instincts, calming people down. "I'm sorry that you're so upset. I didn't mean to cause you distress at all. I, ah... what have I done wrong?"
It takes a few seconds for Alhaitham to process the panic Ayato was experiencing, and then his confusion bubbles into indignation.
“Oh, an exciting little game, okay, no that makes total sense! I forgot people like you treat other people’s feelings like games. You really should have said something, see I had thought that you filled your house with this stupid plant, and then repeatedly try to taunt me into coming to this dumbass event, because you actually liked me and wanted me around for something you cared about, but no- according to you, I don’t have enough fun! You’re so generous for introducing a hermit like me to a situation I’m uncomfortable in 75% of the time, and then using my genuine overstimulation to manipulate me into doing something I don’t understand very well. That’s top tier hosting, have you submitted this to a magazine? I’m sure the editors will eat this up.”
He caught himself being very cruel, and while he felt it was deserved, he didn’t know what he would do if Ayato started crying, so he reeled it back, breathing in and stabilizing himself.
“You probably didn’t mean it that way. You’re just panicking in an unfamiliar situation, and I’m sorry I lashed out. Ayato, I want you to mean what you say, and say what you mean. We don’t have to do… all this. You could have just said something. I would have been okay with that.” He looked away, not wanting to face his feelings despite encouraging the other to do the same.
“If you did mean it that way, wholeheartedly, fuck you. I will go down there and tell all your friends you’re a smarmy idiot who likes to lead people on and flakes when put on the spot.” Alhaitham says, hoping and wishing that his dear friend would choose not to sentence him to a lonelier life. He musters up the courage to look Ayato in the eyes again and reaches for his hand in the futile attempt to keep him here- either to be scorned or comforted, depending on what he chose to do.
#❧ {guardian cypress} [ayato]#❧ mistletoe [thread]#i love making ayato distressed sometimes he needs it (affectionate)
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suddenly i wonder what it would be like to write a rp where the two characters just battle each other 👀
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how are you color coded?
tagged by @temporalhaze
tagging: anyone :)
here's what it gave me:
GREEN CODED green, a study in living life, growth, and change. you're one of the people who often find themselves believing that anybody can be better than they are right now, should they put in the effort. you know when to quit, of course, but that tolerance is very high. you know when to put faith in the right people, but that knowledge was earned the hard way. the world is a dangerous place, and you know that. but that doesn't mean that life isn't worth living. the world is a place full of danger, of love, of wonder. you know that firsthand.
does it sound like him? ^^;
variety is the spice of life~
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Ayato stared silently.
Did he actually just… kiss me? He’d turned that awkward start into something resembling an affectionate kiss? Definitely not what Ayato had expected to happen. He’d imagined himself taking the lead, coaxing the socially awkward man into experiencing passion. Now, Ayato felt some strange sparks stir in his chest, and he avoided trying to identify them.
“I… ah.”
I wanted to pull you out of your comfort zone. I wanted to make you experience the joys of social life. I wanted to break your awkwardness. He couldn’t just tell him that.
Perhaps the true social joy Ayato experienced was when he was in control. But he didn’t know what Alhaitham would do. He’d made the mistake of thinking this was a man he could read.
Ayato let go of Alhaitham’s wrists, not even noticing how tightly he’d been gripping him. He straightened out his suit and put on the most unbothered smile he could muster.
“Well. I just wanted you to have a little fun at the party! Mistletoe makes for an exciting little game, doesn’t it? You’re welcome!” is what he could come up with to say before stepping back and looking dangerously like he was about to take off.
He swore he saw a flash of fear in Ayato’s eyes. Alhaitham was shocked when he felt his wrists get grabbed, and he didn’t expect the kiss to be so… authentic? He wasn’t sure that was the best way to describe it. Ayato probably didn’t expect him to call his bluff, he concluded, opening his mouth a little more, wanting the kiss to be longer if only to prolong the time he didn’t have to answer those burning questions now in his mind.
Shit, that was a move. Now Alhaitham somehow feels more experienced at this, trying the things that were described in some of the books he read, executing patterns of heavy breathing and gentle lip movements. His ears were definitely bright red, he felt it. He was kissing Ayato. What the hell? How did he get here? Was this actually, genuinely reciprocated? The two of them were almost entangled at this point, both thrown off their game.
He can’t deny the feeling that zips through him when he feels the grip around his wrist tighten- maybe in fear, maybe excitement- and he pulls away in an attempt to get back to breathing. There’s a beat of very tense, very awkward silence.
“Uh. Thank you for not bullshitting me, I guess.” Alhaitham said, trying to compliment some part of the clusterfuck that had just occurred. “Can I ask what exactly the goal was here…?”
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Reblog to let your mutuals know. . .
that they are appreciated. that they are important. that they are amazing. that they are creative. that they are loved.
No matter how long you take to reply, what mood you are in, how insecure you are feeling about your writing, or how active you are — your presence is still very much enjoyed. You never have to apologize or feel bad for taking a while with a reply, or not answering an ask right away. Life can get busy, energy can fluctuate, interest can shift, and emotions can change. You are human and these things do not make you a bad person/partner.
We write together because it is fun and enjoyable, not because it is expected of you to answer every little thing at the snap of fingers.
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And for the very first time that night, Ayato didn't feel like he was in control.
He grabbed Alhaitham's wrists on instinct. He let out a tiny gasp and his smile fell. He tried to keep his composure. No, it's not possible, I can't be afraid.
But it was a dreadful feeling, like the rug was pulled out from under him and he was about to fall.
This was the closest Ayato had ever been to Alhaitham, the legendary man who kept a certain distance from everyone. Inches away from his face, Ayato should've felt like he won, like he achieved the impossible. Why do I feel like I'm being threatened instead?
Ayato's mind raced and tried to quickly calculate an explanation for this, but really, there was only one option left for him.
He leaned forward and locked lips with Alhaitham's. He immediately regretted that it was not the passionate, beautiful kiss that he'd envisioned. It was rather awkward.
“I- yes, I’m aware.”
So much effort went into keeping his voice level and steady, he didn’t want to give his nervousness away. His eyes darted everywhere but Ayato’s face, knowing looking at him would only make it worse. What were his options here?
One, he could initiate the kiss. Low chance of success, he didn’t know how to do it well and wasn’t as experienced. The only upside he could see was the element of surprise and gaining the upper hand. He could pull away as quickly as he felt like it, should he initiate.
Two, he could wait for Ayato to initiate, and be at his mercy for however long he decided a kiss was supposed to be. The idea formed a pit in his stomach, and he took a second to ask himself why he was so scared. He trusted Ayato, right? This was something he clearly wanted, not some sort of trick to make Alhaitham look like an idiot.
He shouldn’t let himself ruminate on that too long, the idea of being manipulated like that made his stomach turn. Frustration builded in his mind, resentful at something that hadn’t even happened. Who the hell was Ayato to pull his strings like that? No, he decided, if Ayato was going to tease he was going to follow through, as difficult and as complicated as it would make things between them. Actions had consequences, and Alhaitham would not save him from them.
He reached out and pulled forward on Ayato’s clothes, in an attempt to be threatening that mostly came out as needy.
“If you’re fucking with me right now, I’m going to tell this whole party you’re two faced and a fraud. This is not one of your little games, okay? Mean it, or don’t do it at all.”
He realized he has now crossed a line he cannot step back from.
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