#◐ ≫ ❛ appearance always matters ❜ 「 countenance 」.

[edgeofn1ght]

all you conceal, let out: ch. 1

After the death of Obi-Wan Kenobi, Anakin Skywalker, in his grief, takes off on a mission half-cocked to find a lost holocron on Jedha. The next thing he knows, he's waking up injured on a planet he's never seen before, surrounded by calm and an unsettling quiet. Then, after passing out again, he wakes up in a strange home, patched, clean, and safe. And his savior is someone he loved who he didn't think he'd ever see again. Will he be able to get back to his own universe, and does he even want to?

i finally managed to fill another square on my @obikin-events bingo card well after the event was over 🫡 (i tried my best to finish it before it ended, but oh well)

alternate universe travel • obikin • 5.1k words • read on ao3 instead

Anakin knew his mission wouldn't be easy. He was warned against going, specifically going alone, but he insisted on taking it anyway. He needed to be away from the Temple, from everything that reminded him – 

“You still need time to mourn!” His own padawan had cried out in the hangar as he strode away from her, his responsibilities, and any bit of sanity he was still holding onto. 

Death is a natural part of life, he thought bitterly as he jogged up the Twilight's ramp, followed quickly by Artoo. I guess you forgot that lesson. 

If he had bothered to turn back, he would have seen Ahsoka's deeply troubled countenance, but he wasn't concerned about that. He had a mission to carry out – one that had been important to Obi-Wan. And he would see it through.

But as Anakin slowly lifted his head out of the dirt, he was no longer so sure he could see it through. He didn't even know where he was anymore. His head throbbed as he became aware of the blood rushing through his ears, drowning out all other noise. Not that there was much to hear anyway – no blaster fire, no clankers yelling in their tinny, robotic voices, no shouting clone troopers, no explosions… nothing.

As he became more aware of his being, his whole body ached, hurting so much he wouldn't have been surprised if every single bone in his body was broken. If Obi-Wan were here and could read his thoughts, he would have undoubtedly told him he was being dramatic.

‘Get up, my young padawan, you’re not so old yet.’ He heard his master’s voice so clearly, just as if he was standing right next to him, looking down at his old padawan with a wry grin and his hands on his hips. He frowned – wishing Obi-Wan was here wouldn’t make him appear, no matter how much Anakin wanted it. He turned his head left then right, searching for his ship, for Artoo… for anyone or anything, but he was completely alone. 

Anakin gingerly pushed himself up and made it halfway before his arms gave out and he dropped back into the muck with a disgusting squelch . And that, too, was different. Last he could recall, he had been on Jedha, surrounded by orange dust and sand as far as the eye could see, even inside the old temple ruins. But as he looked around now, there was nothing but vibrant multicolored trees, green grass, and a brilliant blue sky. 

So where the hell was here? 

Anakin really had no chance to think about his location or predicament because, unsurprisingly, he had passed out again. He didn’t know how long he was out, but when he awoke, he was still on the mystery planet and dusk was settling on the land. It was just as quiet as before, but now the silence was punctuated by the sound of night coming to life. 

He always found the night strangely unsettling when wasn't at home. Coruscant’s night never deviated from its day – the ecumenopolis was a constant hum of traffic and pulse of billions of lifeforms. And Tatooine’s night had been… well, when it wasn’t eerily silent, it was a howling sandstorm or some other form of danger such as raiders, Hutt cartels, or baying creatures that could eat you whole. 

He’d forgotten the true sound of silence, the feeling of it. The way it crept into your bones, enveloped your senses, and made you feel uneasy and cold. Not long after the war began, they all became quickly accustomed to being constantly surrounded by dozens, sometimes hundreds of other beings all the time, whether on board a star destroyer or in battle. Then add to that, life on Coruscant, in the Temple, and pair it with his own constant loud thoughts, feelings, and anxieties, and he really couldn't remember the last time he'd experienced a true quiet like this. Had he ever?

Anakin summoned enough energy to roll over with a grunt. His face was covered in muck and dirt, he could feel it in the pull of his skin when he winced. His cloak was wet, but he still used the voluminous sleeves to wipe it away. All his clothes were wet as it turned out – not exactly soaked , but damp enough to be uncomfortable and annoying. He became more aware of every pain in his body – temples throbbing, joints aching, and most inconvenient of all, the sharp stab of pain in his side. It was most likely a fractured or bruised rib… he hoped anyway. 

As he continued to lie supine in the grass, he took stock of the rest of his body, curling and straightening his fingers then rolling his arms across the dirt to test the movement. Next he tried wiggling his toes inside his boots then flexed his calves, and finally pulled up his legs to bend his knees. Nothing seemed broken. He finally pushed himself up until he was in a sitting position, swaying a bit as his vision swam. 

Forgetting about all his physical aches, his gloved hand moved to his belt, searching for his communicator, but it was nowhere to be found. Then it flew to his left hip where his lightsaber usually sat, a comforting weight always at his side, but it wasn’t there either. 

"Shiiiiit," Anakin whispered. He looked at the ground around him, blinking, his eyes straining to see anything at all in the grass in the low light. It could be anywhere. He would find it – he would – but he couldn’t focus right this second. He scrambled to stand but it was too much, too soon and he fell back into the dirt. 

He groaned long and loud into the rapidly darkening night. 

But then, he heard the most beautiful sound to his buzzing ears – the sound of help. Help was on its way in a beaten-up X-34 landspeeder, which sounded like the combustor of the axial compressor needed to be replaced. He’d never been so happy in his life to hear the low rumble of an engine that needed some serious maintenance, or more happy that he had not completely forgotten everything he knew. 

A wave of dizziness and nausea came over him, but he leaned forward and stretched out his arm as the speeder rumbled closer.  “Help?” He could barely muster the single-syllable word. Not that he could be heard over the noise of the engine anyway, but he had to try. 

Then, unfortunately, he blacked out once again.

Anakin slowly came-to, aware of warmth, comfort, and a voice, calm and gentle, like home . He suddenly remembered being lifted, a hand on his cheek, his forehead, the cool night air then – 

Nothing more.

For the third time in less than half a day, Anakin awoke from slumber. Except this one had been much more fitful than the others. He still ached, but at least he was no longer lying face down in mud in wet clothes. Instead, now he was lying on a sofa under a blanket, his head cradled in a soft pillow, and he was clean and comfortable. The thought was concerning, but he'd get to that later.

Golden sunlight filtered in through the room’s shades. It was certainly no longer night, and it seemed rather bright, but he had no idea what time it could possibly be. He squeezed his eyes tightly and tried to remember… He could recall nothing at all of how he got here – on the planet or in this room. He had been on Jedha with Artoo and a couple of troopers from 501st (who showed up at Ahsoka's insistence), combing through an old excavation site. It was the last-known location of an unknown holocron, apparently buried amongst the ruins, and looking for it had felt like searching for a single star in a nebula. 

When the Jedi first learned of its existence (or ‘ potential existence’ rather, as Obi-Wan had insisted), neither he nor Obi-Wan had truly believed in the presence of such a holocron on the planet. Something like that would surely have been recovered long ago! Obi-Wan’s incredulity echoed in Anakin's head.  But t hey were instructed to at least look, as it would have been rather foolish to allow something like that to languish untouched with the potential of falling into anyone’s hands. And if the rumor was true and they did find such a thing, they could study it. Incredulity aside, Obi-Wan wasn't very good at completely hiding his interest (or at least not to Anakin), and he had remarked several times on how he'd love to study it and learn all its secrets. Anakin had adored the way the older man’s eyes lit up just talking about it. He wouldn't have dreamed of ever telling his old master that.

Then he would never get a chance to. Obi-Wan became one with the Force, leaving Anakin behind forever, and he was forced to go on, to live the rest of his life without his best friend and master. It had been three months, and the wound was as raw and as fresh as the day Obi-Wan was taken from him. He couldn't find peace no matter what he did or who he talked to. They weren't Obi-Wan. 

Master Kenobi’s loss was felt keenly by all the Jedi, but Anakin was sure he didn’t mean as much to them as he did to him. His master was gone and Anakin would never have peace again. 

So Anakin had gone to Jedha on a half-cocked mission to find the holocron, because Obi-Wan had wanted to find it, and Obi-Wan wanted to study it, and that was a last wish Anakin could honor even though every fiber of his being cried out for the loss of the man he loved. 

Perhaps the holocron held secrets to eternal life. Perhaps there was a way to see or speak to him again. Feeling delirious with the prospect, Anakin had run headlong into the temple ruins built inside a cave mouth of a large plateau, feeling as if he was getting close. The pull of the Force was strong, like a nexus of power. He remembered a thrumming and buzzing in his head then nothing at all after that. 

And now he was in some house he didn't know, on a planet he didn't recognize. 

He carefully stretched out with his senses and found that all was calm. He reached further looking for someone, anything , but didn’t get much beyond the general course of life on the planet. Then suddenly, on the edge of his consciousness, a single life form appeared, close… It was inside the house with him.  Anakin should be on high alert, but he couldn’t find it within himself to be. Perhaps he would come back to the why later. Wherever he was, he felt safe and not in any danger. The life form felt calm, relaxed, and slightly amused. Then suddenly he heard a low humming, but not like the humming of the Force, but a living being softly humming a tune. It wasn’t in the room with him but it was close. Then it stopped. 

"Ah, you're awake."

Anakin whipped his head in the direction of the voice. THAT VOICE. A voice he knew better than anyone else's. A voice he had heard most every day since he was nine years old, a voice he'd grown to love more than anyone else's. He twisted around to get a better look, hissing when his side and back protested, clearly still in no shape to move so quickly. 

“Take it easy!” The voice warned. 

He watched in disbelief as the source of the voice set a tray down on the small table in front of the sofa. As he took in the man before him, his chest constricted and tightened and his breathing shallowed. He stood on the precipice of a panic attack with no way to ward it off. Because here was Obi-Wan Kenobi in the flesh, standing in front of him, whole and alive . 

He was older than Anakin knew him to be at the time of his death – by five years or so, maybe more. His hair was longer, not quite as long as it was right before the start of the war, but long enough so the ends curled around his ears and sat on the collar of his shirt. There were more strands of grey threaded throughout his hair and at his temples, more lines etched into his face, particularly around the eyes. His skin had taken on more of a golden hue than Anakin had ever seen – like he spent most of his time outside – which also meant more, darker freckles dotting his forehead, cheeks, and the bridge of his nose. 

He was wearing a light colored work shirt with the buttons undone to mid-breastbone and the sleeves rolled to the elbows. His trousers were the color of rust and he wore tall, brown boots. The clothes hugged his strong figure as if they were tailor-made specifically for him. Anakin couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Obi-Wan in anything but his loose, cream-colored tunics, robes or under blacks and armor.

He looked like a man untouched by war, healthy and content. Anakin had forgotten that once Obi-Wan did look like that, but it was long ago. He stared, slack-jawed, as he thought of Obi-Wan’s pale face and lifeless, clear blue eyes as he held him in death. This was Obi-Wan as he could have been – should have been. Anakin's heart clenched in his chest. 

"I brought you some breakfast," the man finally added, still hesitant and wary of what Anakin would do next.  

Feeling panicked at the strange normality of it all, Anakin attempted to fully sit up so he could defend himself if needed, but he was still in quite a bit of pain. He grabbed his side and winced as the aching muscles in his core contracted. Then his fingers came in contact with a large bandage stuck to his left side. 

"Careful now!" Obi-Wan rushed over to grab Anakin's arm and steady him. The touch was like a brand in his skin. He ripped his arm away and stood quickly, hitting his shin on the small table as he stumbled away from the strange Obi-Wan. He blindly reached again for where a lightsaber should be at his hip, only to find it still wasn't there. 

Instead, Anakin brandished the knife he'd grabbed off the tray in his haste to distance himself from the imposter. "What kind of trick is this? Who are you?"

Not-Obi-Wan put his hands up in a half-hearted surrender. "I'm not really thrilled about being threatened in my own home. Even if it is with a dull butter knife. I can assure you, I am unarmed."

"Obi-Wan… what… what are you doing here?"

Confusion colored the man's features, but it was there and gone just as quickly. "It's just Ben,” he said, slowly putting his hands down. 

Anakin's eye brows pinched as he frowned, “Ben? I– nevermind!” He thrust the knife out in warning and Ben's hands flew back up. "Where am I? How are you here??"

"Well this is MY house, and you're a guest in it, though I have half a mind to throw you out now for threatening me."

This ‘Ben’ was so much like his Obi-Wan, it took his breath away. The way he talked, even if the accent was slightly less of the clipped Coruscanti, and more of a slight brogue, then right down to the casualness with which he handled Anakin's threat… But behind the light-hearted jest, there was a definite wariness, a bit of fear for this complete stranger in his home. Because Ben clearly didn't know him. Anakin meant nothing to him. This wasn't his Obi-Wan. 

Anakin blinked as he tried to remember anything before he woke up, trying to make sense of this situation. Maybe he was actually lying in a cot in a tent in the middle of a dusty desert on Jedha. Or perhaps on a moderately comfy bed in the Halls of Healing back inside the Jedi Temple. Or maybe he was floating inside a bacta tank – injured, knocked out, and healing. Yes, that was it. He was asleep and this was a dream, and in his great grief, he'd conjured up this older Obi-Wan. An Obi-Wan who was not only alive, but content, happy, and healthy. Of course he would – that's what Anakin wanted for his friend and the man he loved. He had created a life that Obi-Wan didn't get to live.

Tears began to gather in the corners of his eyes. He squeezed them shut tightly and willed himself to wake up. 

"You seem to be very hurt," the voice spoke again, and Anakin opened his eyes. "Why don't you eat something then go lie down?"

"Maybe I am hurt, but this isn't real, you're not real," he said resolutely. "I am hurt, yes. But I'm at home, in the Temple." Maybe if he said it forcefully enough and without any doubt he would make it so. 

Not-Obi-Wan stepped towards him and Anakin stepped back. 

"I have no intention of hurting you, I think you need to lie down before you hurt yourself," Ben stepped towards him again, one hand extended, palm up as if he was trying to settle a wild nexu.  

“You know that I could hurt YOU,” Anakin said, his voice wavering. The knife in his hand trembled. 

“You won’t though.”

Their eyes fixed on each other as Ben stepped closer. Anakin didn't know whether he wanted to fight or flee, but he felt immobilized so he did neither. 

Before he knew what was happening, Ben lunged forward and wrapped his right hand around Anakin’s wrist, gripping it tightly, forcing him to drop the knife, then another arm came around Anakin’s neck and squeezed. 

“Sleep,” was the last word Anakin heard before he did just that.

Anakin dreamt of Obi-Wan. 

But not the Obi-Wan he had known since he was nine years old. It was an Obi-Wan he'd known for maybe nine minutes.  

In his dream, this Obi-Wan looked exactly like his Obi-Wan, he dressed differently but otherwise moved and talked like him. His gestures, jokes, and smiles were the same, even down to the lingering sadness behind his eyes that Anakin had always noticed when Obi-Wan thought he wasn’t looking. But in his dream, he was still on this other planet, and not Coruscant, and Obi-Wan wasn’t a Jedi, but a farmer. 

Anakin was inside a small house which sat in the middle of several acres of land covered in trees and lush fields. Directly behind the home was a large garden where the older Obi-Wan currently stood amongst many kinds of plants, small and large. He was naked to the waist, and the sinking sun's rays reflected off his sweat-shiny skin, making it glisten. Ben was a bit thicker than Anakin remembered ever seeing Obi-Wan, but he was still strong and lithe. The muscles in his back and arms flexed as he dug into the earth and bent down to plant new seeds. Obi-Wan finally stood and turned, wiping sweat from his brow with a bit of cloth he pulled from his back pocket. 

“Anakin,” he said with the loveliest smile Anakin had ever seen. 

This Obi-Wan loved him. Anakin knew it somehow. 

Anakin’s eyes flew open, he was sweating and his breathing labored. He sat up quickly, blankets pooling at his waist, and looked around. Daylight was fading, but it was enough to illuminate the room and he could see it was homey and cozy. He was now in a small bedroom he didn’t recognize in a very comfy bed. Far more comfortable than anything he'd grown used to in battlefield tents and aboard Venator destroyers. He looked to his right, wondering if he’d find Ben there, since this was surely his room, but when he found it empty, he exhaled, strangely relieved. 

The bed was a modest size, easily large enough for two, but not so big that two people would never meet in the night. A dresser sat pushed up against the wall opposite with a small mirror resting on top. From where he sat, Anakin could see there were some trinkets and other items there as well, but he couldn’t make out what they were. A large chair sat by the window with a blanket haphazardly thrown over and a discarded datapad in the seat. On the small bedside table next to his side of the bed, there was a lamp, and surprisingly, his communicator and his lightsaber. 

Anakin pushed away the covers and swung his legs over the side. He picked up his lightsaber to feel the familiar and comforting heft. Ben had undoubtedly found it, but it was a bit surprising that he had actually returned it to him. Maybe he didn't know what it was, didn't know what Anakin could do with it. Well, at least he'd be spared the 'your lightsaber is your life' lecture, though Anakin would have given up his lightsaber forever just to hear it again. 

He was still wearing only a pair of sleep pants and he was glad to find that the glove over his mechno-arm was still in place. He wiggled his toes then slid off the bed and stepped onto soft, cool carpet and stretched away some of the stiffness. It felt like he had been asleep for days. At the window, he pulled back the curtain slightly to peer outside. The sun was setting in the distance behind the foothills, painting the sky in soft pinks, oranges, and purples. The landscape was bathed in a soft yellow, but none of that beauty compared to the man standing in the middle of the large vegetable garden. 

Just like in his dream.

His heart rate picked up again. 

Was he even awake now? Or was all of this a dream? 

Suddenly small flashes of what he thought were recent memories returned to him – a pair of strong arms wrapping around his back and under his knees, the feel of a warm, wet cloth being dragged across his face gently, humming in another room, then Anakin threatening to stab this beautiful man with a butter knife. He flushed, hoping against hope that that was also only from his dream. 

He dropped the curtain and made his way through the house and out onto the back porch. Ben was practically glowing in the evening sun. It only took a second for him to look up and smile. 

“Hello there.” Ben thrust his shovel into the dirt, then rested his elbow on the handle. Anakin’s mouth suddenly became very dry. “Oh, I’ve hidden all the butter knives,” he added with a slight twist to his mouth. Anakin's face fell – so that one was true. “However, that thing I put on the bedside table seems like it could do much more damage than a knife.” Ben huffed as he pulled a cloth out of his back pocket and wiped his face. 

“That 'thing'??” Anakin scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. His still-bare chest, he was reminded. Maybe from that distance Ben couldn’t tell that he was blushing. “That thing, Ben, is my lightsaber. MY LIFE. You are… were always so fond of reminding me.” Ben chuckled but said nothing else. It felt so odd for him to say nothing at all about it. 

They stood and stared at each other for a few moments. Anakin allowed the stillness and quiet of the evening to envelope him once more. Was this really his current reality? Or was it possible that his mind had actually created some world so tangible, so intricate and detailed? An Obi-Wan who was both Obi-Wan and not simultaneously, and who had no clue who Anakin was.

Ben pulled his shovel from the ground and walked towards the house. He stopped below the porch and stared up at Anakin. “You must be hungry, would you like latemeal?”

As if right on cue, his stomach growled. “Yes, okay.”

“Let me get cleaned up and I will get it for you,” Ben said with a nod and passed by Anakin without a second look. 

Anakin sat at the small table in the kitchen and watched as Ben deftly moved around the space preparing the meal. It was strange how everything seemed so familiar, from the way he stood and held himself, to the way he drank from his own mug, even down to how quiet and focused he was on the task. It was strange to know and love the man so well, but to not know him at all. Because this still wasn't his Obi-Wan. No matter what his dream told him. No matter what he wanted to believe and be real. But he was so like him, it made his heart ache. He knew a mind consumed with grief could create fantastical things, believe the unbelievable, especially if it brought back loved ones. He'd also heard stories of beings traveling through time and space, but that’s all they were supposed to be, stories – ‘wistie stories' his mom told him before bed or outlandish yarns spun by his fellow padawans as they shirked their duties.

But if that was true, and he'd been flung into another time and universe… Where was Anakin Skywalker here? And why wasn't he with Obi-Wan Kenobi?

He snapped out of his reverie when Ben set some food down in front of him then took his own place in the chair across the table. It was intimate, but Anakin couldn’t think about it too much because he was starving and the food smelled amazing. It was a needed distraction. 

Between sips from his mug of tea, Ben finally spoke up. "I didn't see a ship. Or a speeder, for that matter."

"Uh well, I didn't have one," Anakin said as he pushed the food around on his plate. "At least not here." He shoved a large chunk of fried tuber in his mouth. 

Ben narrowed his eyes, "I'm not exactly close to the nearest town, are you saying you walked?" 

“No,” Anakin said around a mouthful of food. "I just ended up out there.”

Ben frowned, "How do you mean ‘ended up’?” 

"Just that. I was on Jedha then I woke up in a mud puddle… I think."

Ben took another sip of his tea. "You've still not given me your name. What do I call you?"

Anakin felt like sulking, "You really don't know it." It wasn’t a question.

"Well, I… you seem to talk a lot in your sleep, and I thought maybe you'd mention it, but strangely, I only heard my own name over and over.” He looked down then cleared his throat. “But I can't really understand how you know my given name.” He stroked his beard.

Anakin felt as confused as Ben – or actually Obi-Wan. But he did know he didn’t like the way that sounded. He couldn’t remember any part of his dreams except for whatever vision that he had of Ben in the field before he saw him out there. He was now afraid of anything he might have said. 

He toyed briefly with giving a fake name, but then decided against it at the last minute. This was Obi-Wan… some Obi-Wan, and with him he was always Anakin. “It’s Anakin.” 

"Anakin," Ben repeated softly. 

He ducked his head and continued eating, hoping that the older man would find something else to stare at for a little while. But he could feel his eyes still on him. 

After a prolonged silence, Anakin spoke up again. "I'm not from here, wherever here is." Ben stared at him but kept silent so Anakin would continue. "I'm from Coruscant. Well, that's where I live anyway… In the Jedi Temple."

Ben’s eyebrows raised briefly then he looked down into his mug. “You’re a ways from Coruscant.”  

Well now they were getting somewhere, and at least Coruscant existed in this universe. "And where is here?"

"Stewjon," Ben said as he sat back in his chair.

Of course. Of course! It was so obvious now – he’d been sent to Obi-Wan’s birth planet for some reason. Maybe it would be a starting point for figuring out the how and why. 

"And what of the war?" 

"What war?"

“What war?” Anakin huffed, "THE war, Ben, the war against the Separatists!?"

Ben shook his head in response. "I'm afraid I don't know it. I try to keep up with news from the Core Worlds as much as possible, but I've never heard of a war or the Separatists. Though, from the name alone, I can possibly figure out their platform.” 

Anakin leaned forward, settling his elbows on the table. "When I say I'm not from here, I mean, not from HERE – this universe." It was out there – now it was up to Ben to decide what to do with it. Ben's brow dipped slightly, but he remained silent. "I am a Jedi, a general in the Grand Army of the Republic, I was your…" He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. Did he even know the Jedi? He certainly wasn't his master here. "I was on a mission on Jedha, then… then, I woke up here."

Ben sat back and crossed his arms over his chest. He didn't believe him. Anakin could tell even though he said nothing. 

He huffed again and ran a hand through his hair. "I want to get back, I need to get back. I don't belong here." Even if he could be at Obi-Wan’s side again, where he did belong. 

Ben stroked his beard in thought. "Anakin, what you're saying… it's impossible. You can't hop to another universe. You can't travel through time or to another reality."

Anakin stood quickly, nearly upsetting the chair. "But I did it! And I’m here talking to you! An Obi-Wan who… who doesn't know or care anything about me!"

"Anakin, come now, that's not–" Ben started but Anakin wasn’t staying to listen. 

He left the kitchen quickly and headed back to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him. He threw himself down into the bed, wanting to scream into the pillow. 

If he couldn’t even remember how he got here in the first place, how in the hell could he find a way back? And Ben clearly wasn’t going to help him. Anakin had no holocron here or a way to get back to Jedha to check. He couldn’t even get back to Coruscant, to the Temple. Maybe others like Mace and Yoda or Plo Koon existed here, even if he didn’t. Maybe they would know and could help him.

Anakin closed his eyes to keep the tears from slipping free, but they fell anyway, wetting the soft pillow underneath his head.

[anantaru]

OH BABY! PLEASE BE MY BABY DADDY

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — the very moment wriothesley first saw you, he had already dreamt about starting a family with you, and now at present, when you were celebrating your two year anniversary, it appeared like he couldn't stop himself from showing you just how much he craved it.

— ꒰ word count ꒱ — 2.1k

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — [ns]fw, fem! reader, established relationship, very strong breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy & mentions of starting a family with you (planning your future), madly in love wriothesley, rough syx, unprotected and hitting it raw, some teasing here and there, overstimulation, cumming inside

"‘had me all figured out, didn't you?"

wriothesley was a strong man, big and muscular from an external perspective and fundamentally— if you weren't quite familiar with the handsome duke and his deep characteristics and only knew of him through his significant work occupation.

in essence, you have known him for a little over two years now, in fact, your anniversary was just taking place this very moment, his absorbed little countenance fixated on no other than your ethereal beauty— on top of that, a trace was playing hard on the impulses lingering on your lower areas as wriothesley settles himself in between your legs, feeling a rising of your hips grinding over his exposed erection, throbbing in time to his quickening pulse.

how fast a day could fly by, and you wished for it to go on much longer— just show him the love that surged from your core and resides inside of you, or the soft tremor building on your knees whenever he kisses you, or when he at last, catches the shuddering sweetness wringing off your toes.

for wriothesley, you ignited his heart, it was you that made love warm for him— as he always claimed it should be, and on the coldest nights of his life, he had sought after your familiar glow— much deeper could he barely await the day for you both to start a family, have children of your own and live a fulfilled life somewhere outside the city, perhaps a house on the outskirts of fontaine, with a large blossoming garden bristling of rainbow roses, where your children could play to their hearts content.

within this deep fantasy, although yet ungrasped, wriothesley found this to be his perfect goal— no matter how near, how far away, it shall never be forgotten.

you slowly press two palms on top of his cheeks as he looms over you with a raised eyebrow that he lazily flashed at you with a hum.

"you say it like it's a bad thing that i knew you were gonna surprise me, baby,"

you add, "it's our anniversary after all," with a steady glide of fingers through his silken hair, "i hope you didn't think I forgot all about it,"

a low purr hums over your lips as your boyfriend clicks his tongue through a deep chuckle as a response, vibrating his sounds against a breathless gasp as he places a featherlight kiss on your bottom lip. you feel how the pad of his thumb crosses firmly over the shape of your curves as your heart begins to thump faster at the privilege of having such breathtakingly handsome and ravishing man in between your legs.

"of course i know you didn't forget," wriothesley's hand inches towards the inside of your thigh to touch the skin while simultaneously parting your legs a little more as he kisses the bridge of your nose,

"happy anniversary, baby,"

you giggle, kissing him needfully as you slide your naked folds through his aching length when he effortlessly cages you in between two muscular arms, pressing his throbbing member all against you until his constricted balls bounce on your ass, eliciting a needful, much longing groan from the man towering on top of you.

"i need you," you complain now, "please baby, don't keep me waiting now,"

you squeal loudly at the temporary relief of your drenched cunt slicking him up with your arousal— and the more you'd douse him up, the better it would feel like, the finer you could taste and sense his throbbing veins grazing at your sensitive walls while he stuffs you— and every mindless urge wriothesley had fantasized about was manifesting itself, the dream to greedily pull apart and taste every soft piece of your body trembling under his much larger one growing.

or the lewd dream of cramming you with his milky whites, jamming his salty cum all into the pits of your wet sex until he's sure you'll end up pregnant, until you will feel your womb be all warm and jammed up.

"you make me the happiest man alive," wriothesley says soothingly, drawing the leaking head of his cock against your hole before brushing a kiss over your lips, fuck, just the smell of you, or those candid whines and begs of yours that would drive him mad, turning him on so damn much that his groin was beginning to ache and swell even more.

"so baby.." wriothesley whispers in one slow, silent motion, when he claims the space between your spread thighs with all his body surging forward and crowding your cunt.

"please let me show you just how happy you make me,"

you whine out as your back arches into his chest, your weeping cunt clenching down when he rubs his cock through your walls without much effort, the copious amounts of wetness aiding him wonderfully as the deep friction of getting stuffed turned you terribly delicious to him, your eyes criss crossed from being fucked with repeated thrusts into your cunt plugging his thick shaft deep.

"—still so sensitive," he coos, and you feel your face grow hot as your boyfriend smirks down at you through assured pairs of eyes, your body itching to feel more of that sensation, more of skin to skin as you slip each little noise falling from the tip of your tongue right into wriothesley's parted mouth gasping for air.

a dizzying contrast from the firing shoves through the tight ring of muscles on your cunt made his rigid erection go deeper than ever, with his hand remaining firmly beneath your cheek, forcing your gaze straight ahead— so you could look at him, so wriothesley could make sure he drinks in everything that you gave him, each crumbling moan of his name and higher pitch of your voice.

do you wonder why? of course, such question was easy to answer:

the sole reason being that for wriothesley— this was a privilege, that you allowed him to pleasure you, rub firmly over the shape of your walls while his wet tongue blindly maps into your mouth, your body rapidly growing addicted to the impossible smoothness of his skin greedily imposing true bliss on your body.

"i want— fuck," he groans through gritted teeth, "i want us to start a family," he speaks again, "want to put a baby in you," this time louder but with an added amount of gravel to his voice as your legs wrap and close around him as the burning stretch of his thick shaft parting you had you turn absolutely mad and dizzy.

you whine out, completely lost in the pleasure of getting fucked that open wide and especially through his lewd admittance, his hips rolling hard against your used pussy in relentless fucks forward, almost possessively to match his large weight that he kept from bouncing on top of you with his hands keeping him from crushing down and practically collapsing on you.

"i love you," you cry when your pussy twitches wildly, your hot and sticky arousal messing him up, "please, please do!" your breath burning hot and ragged against your throat, "please put a baby in me!" as wriothesley groans— wanting you more than ever, thrusting his length down to a raw, quivering need that shook your limbs apart and tore lewd sounds from the gaps between frantic gulps of air.

your body bounces back and forth the bed, your moans now much louder and broken as wriothesley pants hotly against your clenched jaw, your impatient hands finding refuge in his silken hair as you force him into a kiss, his cock ruthlessly battering your velvety walls— drawing his hips back and forth, back and forth, always nudging his cockhead against the sponge of your sweet spot.

"almost there," wriothesley rasps urgently, "going to fill you up so fucking nicely," he smirks and cuts off your needy gasps with another sharp, punctuated thrust.

the duke was indulging in how warm and soft you were, how nice it felt to be milked by a wet cunt smearing dozen amounts of fluids on the thin skin of his shaft, how you grip him with your weeping cunt, holding onto him so tightly that the duke thought he was about to pass out before you suddenly lessen the clench on his shaft, now alternating between gaping and constricting your pussy hole.

with a flurry full of intense spasms that you felt more inside than out, you cling on to wriothesley's defined back as his body kept going, his addictive thrusts infusing a bone-deep shudder that pinched your upcoming release— the precise attention he always have you, utterly intoxicating, dragging his fully hard cock in and out, in and out, his eyes darkened and drunk from pleasure as he groans out each time your cunt constricts around him, your addictive gasps aiding his pleasure as you moan out beautifully, your hole completely open as he pushes you over the edge with alarming speed.

his cock plunges and fuses into you as far as it could possibly go as he turns your stomach around, hitting the bristling bubble that had long since developed in the depths of your belly when it finally popped into a million pieces, your overstimulated hips helplessly rutting upwards as he swallows those tasteful mewls of yours, your hands tugging his face closer to you.

your orgasm slams you hard with a roaring intensity that nearly doubled you over, your fingers tugging so sharply at wriothesley's hair that you felt a softly pained groan vibrate through his lips as he kisses you in fierce hunger, keeping the pace of his cock steady and surging back and forth, your parted lips looking swollen and flushed with use as you kiss him with all the burning need climbing between your frames when you come undone together.

"there you go, sweetheart," he groans proudly, a slow smile breaking across his ruined lips when he fills you up with his warm seed— watching how you're so fucking drunk on his cock that you make him fill up each inch of space in between your weeping pussy, an engaging hotness coursing into your womb as you thread your fingers through his tousled hair gone and disheveled with sweat and the scent of you.

ugh, you realize you want it as bad as he did, always wanted his thrumming cock to crowd you up just as it did now, with his messy and sticky mess oozing down your hole and seeping everywhere— just how you actually longed for it to be everywhere, slithering from your skin into every curve and crevice, so wriothesley could not only knock you up, but also claim you— in some sort of demonstration of his undying love and his desire, the searing fervour of his white cum making you wince as tears collect in your eyes, the slow pumps of his cock overwhelming you as your walls hug him tight.

wriothesley keeps himself nestled deep in your cunt at your afterglow— and the reason was not unlikely to be revealed, because he believed that if he never were to pull out, you'd definitely get pregnant since the majority of sticky cum had no chance to ever exit your swollen pussy when he just keeps himself plugged in for much longer.

the gravel in his voice adopts a sultriness, spelling sweet nothings into your ear, calling you his good girl as he spilled it aöl into your lips when you smile at him all sweetly and shy, all flustered too with the mess in between your legs dousing down the soiled mattress.

"just imagine, my love," this particular delivery of his sentence was different now, each wording was practically dripping of adoration and hefty of his love for ypu, it was much softer as well despite wriothesley still being out of breath— and you simply look at him through a meaningful smile, heels resting against his back as you could still feel him deeply pulsate inside of you.

"imagining it right now," you respond when he silently slides one large palm down to your stomach before pressing hot kisses on your lips.

"i hope our little one gets your pretty eyes," he whispers lowly, his lips meeting yours right after.

it's quite silly, wriothesley thinks, that he cannot stop talking about it, nor stop dreaming about it either, or how unbelievably madly in love he was, how there would always be a beast inside of him that resided in his heart, that would crave you so badly.

after all the suffering in his life, you are his souls greatest desire, his bodies, his minds biggest passion, and for you to one day carry his child, was everything he wished for.

© 2023 anantaru  do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[dxstopiaa]

Justified Jealousy…

Synopsis: A series of provocative glances, or a unwanted momentary touch drives your lover crazy, envy lacing their face.

Characters: Jealous! Zhongli, Ayato and Al Haitham x Fem! Reader.

Warnings: None, perhaps just suggestive and description of jealousy. [Reader wears a sari/lehenga in alhaitham’s bc i said so, something that isnt nsfw lately? Also quite a lengthy fic, aaaaaa enjoy! but 200 followers aaa \(^ヮ^)/]

[Now Playing: Earned it]

Zhongli

• If there was one ability the former archon had learned over these millennia, it was controlling his emotions. Initiating battles, losing his dearest ones, witnessing his darkest fears accumulate- all of it. Ardour washed away with tides of erosion yet one remained with the sight he saw before him.

• You were seated next to the young harbinger, his acquaintance, smiling fondly at his words as he seemed to entertain you. Of course, Tartaglia did have that passionate charm within him, those fierce eyes and a grin worth remembering. Yet the sickening concoction of fury, envy and frustration built up in Zhongli’s stomach.

• He approached your table at Third-Round Knockout, seating himself beside you. You greeted him kindly, pushing a glass of wine towards him. He graciously accepted it and took a measly sip, not intending to get intoxicated as soon as Childe had.

• It was apparent how much of a lightweight he was, slurring his words ever so slightly. Likely the reason for his boldness. The consultant dismissed it, listening to the storyteller intently. That is, until the Snezhnayan diplomat began speaking.

• “So, Mr. Zhongli, who do you think has a better chance of attracting little miss here?” Childe brashly raised, returning his daze to you. You averted your own eyes from the man, humming. Appeared as if the Harbinger was oblivious to social cues also.

• The archon, still poised, rested his glass on the surface. Inside was a different matter however, for he wished to draw his polearm at that instant, so harsh and imprudent. Zhongli looked over again, seeing your subtly entertained face stung him.

• “Childe, I remind you, handle your alcohol more responsibly. As for that question, it’s none of your concern.” He half-hissed possessively, unusual for his nature. Pleasantly surprised to say the least, Tartaglia chuckled.

• “Hah! That’s more like it, I knew you weren’t as reserved as you present yourself!” The younger man snickered, watching Zhongli’s expression morph into something akin to displeasure. He simply crossed his arms flush against his chest, eyes squinted.

• You noticed the prior grasp the brunette had on the glassware, positive it would of shattered. Sure, the funeral parlour consultant was a gentleman, but what further feelings did he conceal in his heart?

• “Oh i see the issue, you’re jealous!” Childe gasped, dramatically clasping his hands over his ajar mouth. Irritating as always. Zhongli huffed, about to leave the table with that irked countenance of his. Until you stopped him, clasping tightly onto his gloved hand and pulling him down.

• With nothing else in mind, you kissed his cheek, which was reddening rapidly. You despised seeing such a look on his handsome face, resolving it with another drastic action. Despite its quick ending, the consultant’s mind was clouded. He excused himself, what a stuttering mess you’ve made of him.

• Giddily approaching his workplace, which he should of been at an hour ago, his boss exclaimed strings of words he couldn’t make out. Perhaps these emotions he’s avoided are his own drug.

• “Stop smiling, Mr. Zhongli! It’s beginning to scare me!”

Ayato

• As a prominent figure in the Tri-Commission, Ayato was not exempt from meetings and gatherings to discuss Inazuma’s development, and neither were you as his wife from another clan yourself.

• The heavy burden of the nation’s wellbeing weighted heavy upon your shoulders, the fear of directing your people in the wrong direction ever-present. A gentle grasp and comforting squeeze of your hand pulled you away from your thoughts.

• Your husband smiled warmly, using another hand to stroke your hair. He could almost sense your apprehension, if it wasn’t from the brief frown on your face. Right, you were currently waiting for the other nobles to join you in Komore Teahouse. The exorbitantly expensive teacups in front awaiting your other guests in the same manner.

• The tranquility was short lived as two other commissioners sat opposite you both, one face painted with a rather imperious expression. The other seemingly focused on your appearance, unpleasantly. Maybe you were being paranoid, you thought, greeting the men as respectfully as one could.

• Ayato was quick to discuss the subject, immediately presenting the paperwork, sipping his tea whilst he awaited a response. The Tenryou spokesman glanced at the terms, signing them off with the flutter of a quill pen.

• “Perfect, though i can’t help but take notice of you, My Lady, what importance do you have here other than to look alluring?” The man spoke up, rather confidently. Your breath hitched, unwillingly smiling, pushing the statement aside as not to anger him.

• Your husband eyed the man, clearing his throat to retrieve his attention once more. Ayato was patient by nature, but his fists clenched tighter at his ignorant words. Was your relationship not obvious enough? Or worse, did he choose to ignore it?

• The representative continued his conversation, although the constant flickering of his eyes towards you was quite daunting. Poor attempts to be subtle finally catching up to him, deciding to be outright confrontational.

• “I’d like for you to join my clan, after all you aren’t married from what i can see, i’ll provide you with everything and anything.” Again, the plain incomprehension. The Tenryou Head droned on, almost as if he was under the influence of alcohol.

• No matter how you stammered that you weren’t interested, he persisted. Ayato grew angrier by the second, struggling to keep his composure. He latched onto your hand, bringing it up to the table and infront of the commissioner, playing with the golden ring on your finger.

• His indigo irises never left your own, contemplating whether he had to kiss you infront of the ignorant clan member to show his love for you. The stare he gave you wasn’t cold; more so irritated and envious. The thought of you with anyone other than him was ill-fitting, the way his name rolled off your tongue was a melody only he should hear.

• “May i remind you that this is a professional matter? I assure you my wife isn’t interested in the slightest.” Ayato partially threatened, malice dripping from every word, taking your hand in his and kissing it delicately. Reputation won’t be an issue infront of such a vile being.

• The stammering man’s face was red with sheer embarrassment, claiming how he was very sorry and how it wasn’t his fault. The Kamisato heir hoisted you up from your seat, disregarding the meaningless protests as you both left the room, entering another desolate one.

• “Do i have to physically prove you’re mine? How about carrying my bloodline further, sweetheart?” He secured you against the wall, smoothing his thumb over your lips.

Al Haitham

• It was well known how gorgeous the sunsets were in Sumeru, countless couples sitting upon stone benches to cherish it, or friends giggling and joking with eachother, basking in it’s glow.

• Al Haitham didn’t know where he’d place your relationship with him on that scale. Would you both be in the developing rosé hues, friendly with a sense of intimacy? Or would you be in the deep saffrons, an established unbreakable infatuation? Or perhaps a blend of the two.

• Deciphering your perception of him was much more challenging than he expected, a price which came along with bonds. Moreover, he needed to recognise his own feelings first, putting that matter beside once your voice could be heard behind him.

• You tapped his shoulder, smiling warmly at him, intending not to startle him from the thoughts, or books even, he often indulged in. Al Haitham knew your charismatic character differed from his reclusive approach, but that’s what drew you together, he supposed.

• Usually, you’d be asking him how his day went, or if anything happened whilst you were gone, but you were oddly quiet. He glimpsed at you momentarily, observing your timid demeanour as you followed beside him. You’d open up eventually.

• “I don’t understand why Nilou made me wear this, it makes it seem like we’re a couple…” The Scribe looked at you again, except for much longer than before. Right, the turquoise lehenga and veil draped across your shoulder fitted quite well with his own colour scheme. A little too obviously than he had planned it to.

• “How unfortunate.” Al Haitham sarcastically stated, not missing the way you side-eyed him, almost hearing his smirk through his words. “..Anyway, i need to pick some items up from my home, care to accompany me?”

• You were piqued by his offer, although you had met him a few times outside his house, you never had the opportunity to see inside, causing you to nod your head enthusiastically. You wondered if he was as organised as he claimed he was, or if his house was a mess in disguise.

• Simultaneous footsteps pattered against the stone pavement, coming to a halt a little further from the heart of the city. The residence was actually quite nice from the outside, simplistic yet larger than most.

• Al Haitham reached into his pocket, pulling a golden key from it and began unlocking the door, pushing it open and gesturing you inside with a brief nod. You could hear a series of light tapping sounds before it stopped, more steps upon wooden floors approaching.

• “You’re back already? Ugh, I didn’t even get to-” The unfamiliar man had ceased to speak, simply looking back and forth at you and the Scribe. His crimson eyes squinted slightly, and then widened in some sort of realisation.

• “Don’t tell me, you’ve actually got a girlfriend? I almost feel sorry for her already.” He continued, voice contorted into a discredited tone. Girlfriend? You two weren’t dating!

• “Yes Kaveh, and what?” You snapped your head towards Al Haitham at his words, scrunching your brows. To your surprise, he was nodding his head, still seeming unbothered as ever. Now he’s lying too?

• “Haitham, We’re-” His hand tightening further around your waist told you enough, an inaudible message saying to be quiet. Kaveh sighed, rolling his eyes. Honestly a reaction you would give to the insufferable man beside you too.

• The Scribe merely chuckled, sitting you down on a cushioned couch, right beside him. The blonde-haired man sat opposite, apparently still in disbelief as he stared quite unnervingly at you, a small grin present.

• “She’s too pretty for you, i’m sure she’d prefer if she was dating me instead.” Kaveh spontaneously admitted, laughing as heat crept up your face. Though this would be an opportunity too amusing to pass on, now that you thought of it.

• “Maybe.” You replied, enjoying the slight blaze of envy in Al Haitham’s irises. If he was going to tease you, he should expect the same back. It was your turn to giggle, resting your head on your ‘boyfriend’s’ shoulder.

• Your sudden playfulness surprised him, whilst he knew this was only a comical tease of yours, he wanted nothing more but to make you and that roommate of his realise just how far he’d go for your love.

• Kaveh focused his attention on him instead now, he knew that the Scribe was just putting on that stoic act to refrain from shouting infront of you. Why not add salt to the injury?

• “How did a grumpy ogre like you catch the heart of a princess such as her?” The architect cackled, winking at you. Another suppressed laugh from you, covering your mouth with your palm, intending not to hurt Al Haitham too much.

• What you didn’t expect was for him to tilt your chin to the side, cupping your cheeks as he pressed his lips onto yours. His soft lips parted slightly, melting whatever dignity you had left and drowning out the gasp you emitted. Passionate enough for your heart to accept it as an unspoken confession, begging for more. Al Haitham pulled away, pressing a last, delicately light kiss onto your forehead.

• “That’s how.” He simply stated, almost ignoring the reality of what he had done, wordlessly wrapping you around his finger just as you did, excusing himself from where he was sat, draping his cape over your shoulders before he headed to his room, “..Goodnight, love.”

• Between you and his roommate, you couldn’t decide which of you were more shocked. Kaveh almost resembled a gaping fish, jaw dropped, looking as if he wasn’t far from losing it. Appears as if the Scribe’s plan had worked.

[yourwosogirly]

Thunder and lightning - Lucy Bronze

Just somet I came up with just a few mo’s ago

Word count: 1.1k

As you made your way down the wooden hallway of the house you and Lucy shared in Barcelona, the sound of your footsteps created a gentle pitter-patter. The familiar creaks of the floorboards echoed through the quiet space.

However, the soft sound of your footsteps couldn't compete with the deafening rumbles of thunder in the distance. With each rumble, your body instinctively flinched, the sudden noise causing a jolt of fear to course through your veins.

Like many children growing up, you too had your own fear that, looking back, seems quite silly and even cringe-worthy. It was thunderstorms and lightning that used to send shivers down your spine.

Regrettably, you never outgrew this fear, leading to moments of embarrassment and laughter when the secret was revealed to others.You couldn't shake it off, no matter how hard you tried. It was undoubtedly a personal struggle, one that made you question yourself.However, you were fortunate to have a supportive circle of people around you who never made you feel like an outcast or labeled you as weird. Their understanding and acceptance provided a comforting refuge amidst your ongoing battle with this fear.

Just talking or even thinking about thunderstorms and lightning still makes your body shiver uncontrollably. It’s one of those moments in life when you have to give yourself a rain check and acknowledge that, in someone else’s mind, your fear meant nothing to them.

Not only was you afraid of the storm, but there was another fear lingering within you.Usually, you would have already resulted to Lucy’s embrace for a sense of comfort,but tonight was different. We had made the decision, long before this stormy night, to sleep in separate beds following an argument we had.

It was an ordinary occurrence for us to have a disagreement, just like any other couple. However, neither of us could recall the specific reason behind our argument. Nonetheless, our stubbornness prevented either of us from extending an apology to the other.

You knocked on the door with a gentle touch, hoping for a response. When no answer came from the other side, you understood the circumstances and pushed against the door slightly. Holding onto the soft blanket draped over your shoulders, you maintained a firm grip as the door creaked open, causing you to wince at the sound. However, your girlfriend remained undisturbed, still peacefully asleep despite the noise.

You experienced a whirlwind of emotions as you gazed upon the love of your life, peacefully slumbering on her side, tightly clutching her pillow. Your countenance softened at the sight of this remarkable woman who exuded a dominant aura, now appearing serene and gentle. However, a tinge of envy welled up within you as you couldn't help but marvel at her ability to sleep so deeply, seemingly unaffected by the weather outside.

Quietly, you made your way deeper into the room, attempting to be as cautious as possible not to disturb her peaceful sleep. In your mind, you silently prayed and wished that she would remain undisturbed as you navigated around the room, specifically over to the right side of the bed—the spot that Lucy had always refused to lie on.

Fortunately, you managed to be successful without waking her, prompting a sigh of relief that released the invisible burden your fatigued body had been unknowingly carrying within your lungs.

You quietly maneuvered your way into her bed, gently lifting the covers and settling myself down to align your body with Lucy's. With delicate precision,you shifted her arm that was obstructing your path and nestled yourself against her chest, relishing in the soothing rhythm of her gentle breaths. To your delight, she instinctively wrapped her arm around me, pulling me closer, and tenderly rested her chin upon your head, causing your eyes to flutter closed in contentment.

In the midst of the raging storm outside, her gentle touch washed over you, instantly dispelling your mounting fears. The chaos and uncertainty that loomed over our little haven seemed to fade away, replaced by a comforting sense of tranquillity.

Gently, you slid your hands beneath her shoulders, carefully positioning myself to provide comfort. With my left arm, I began to caress her back in soft, soothing motions, aiming to alleviate the heat that emanated from her body.

In an effort to block out the chaos around me, my focus remained solely on Luce. Humming softly in her ear, I sensed her slight stirring as she began to awaken, sensing the shift in our gentle touches and the soothing connection that formed between us.

"Baby, what's going on?" Lucy asked, her voice filled with concern as she woke up, instantly aware of the fear radiating from me. She shifted closer, wrapping her arm around me, providing a sense of comfort and security.

"There's a storm," I whispered quietly, my voice barely audible as I fiddled with my hands, suddenly overcome by embarrassment at my own admission. Despite knowing that Lucy was well aware of my fear, I couldn't help but feel self-conscious about expressing it.

With my gaze fixed on the ground, refusing to look at her, I didn't notice the realization that washed over Lucy's face. Her eyes followed my trembling form, and it was then that she turned her attention to the pouring rain outside, understanding the source of my distress.

"I'm sorry, my love," she apologized immediately, suddenly being overwhelmed with guilt for not realising my affection for the storm brewing outside the glass windows.

Though, I myself didn’t blame her since there was no way she would’ve noticed.

"It's not your fault," I shook my head instinctively, rejecting Lucy's inclination to blame herself.

"No, baby, it's not. I shouldn't have argued with you in the first place. If I hadn't, you would have been in my arms, safe and sound," she justified.

"Its okay baby,I've got you now," I sighed wearily, resting my head on her chest. I hoped that she would understand my silent plea for her to remain quiet, as all I desired at that moment was to be enveloped in her comforting embrace and escape from the burdens of the world.

"What can I do to help you?" Lucy sighed softly, her chin resting on the top of my head as we sought solace in each other's embrace. We nestled closer, seeking comfort and warmth.

She knew everything about me inside and out, we had no secrets, that’s how our relationship had lasted so long and including that she knew exactly what would calm me down and help me in situations like these but a big part of it was what I wanted and what I needed.

“Mhm, just hold me and talk about anything," I mumbled into her chest, seeking refuge from the storm. I didn't care what she talked about; her voice alone was enough to distract me from the thunderous chaos while a smile graced her lips.

"Do you want me to sing to you, baby?" she suggested, her face lighting up with a sudden burst of inspiration. I nodded eagerly, desperate for anything that might alleviate the relentless pounding of my heart.

She inhaled deeply, and as her voice filled the room, it instantly calmed my troubled soul. A smile spread across my face, breaking the tension, as I recognized the familiar melody of the song.

Cars outside

That song held deep significance in both of our hearts.

Unless you pack your bags

You're coming with me

I had the sense that every couple possessed a special song that was uniquely theirs.

I’m tired of loving from afar

And never being where you are

Ours were most definitely cars outside.

Close the windows, lock the doors

Don’t wanna leave you anymore

Even before we officially started dating, it had remained a constant presence in our lives.

Ooh-ooh, ah

Ooh-ooh, ah

Ooh-ooh, ah

Our connection grew even stronger once we finally came together.

Don’t wanna leave you anymore

As the last lyrics drifted off her lips, a loving smile adorned Lucy's face as she looked down at me. With gentle care, she brushed a stray strand of hair out of my face, a gesture that brought me a sense of comfort and peace. My body, finally surrendering to the tranquillity she had provided, succumbed to a much-needed sleep.

“Sleep tight, baby”

[lagoonalake]

STRAY KIDS IDEAL TYPE

BANG CHAN

Personality: 4 of wands, the moon, the tower

he is interested in a long term relationship, he is attracted to mysterious, magnetic, reserved, private, intense, passionate people, someone with depth and many layers that he has to peel, he likes having to dig deeper to get to know is partner, someone with a rather explosive personality, all or nothing type of person, who can be a bit unpredictable, someone quite different from him, that would transform his life, he can be attracted to people who are out of reach. Strong, “real” personality, intimidating, yet very invested in the relationship once they are in. Someone who went through a lot, tough person hardened by life, a survivor. scorpio, aries, mars, pluto, cancer

Appearance: knight of swords, 5 of swords, 3 of swords

someone with a sharp, dark quality, black hair or dark colors, tall or gives the impression of beig tall, athletic, good posture, intense expression, striking, big, magnetic eyes, serious countenance, black, dark colors, simple or more sporty or street fashion scorpio, pluto, mars

Turn-offs: queen of swords, the emperor, 8 of swords

someone who hides behind a mask, he likes someone who is authentic, someone snobbish, uptight, spoiled, he is kinda put off by people who may come off as too posh or from a richer background, not because he wants his partner to be poor but he prefers people from a more simple environment, insecure people who tries too hard to come off as important or proper, pretentious people leo, libra, capricorn

LEE KNOW

Personality: page of cups, the tower, the chariot

someone with an artistic, kind, sensitive, innocent energy, a dreamer, with a big personality nevertheless, someone who is a go getter, follows their heart and their dreams no matter what, someone who despite hardships they may have encounter keeps their optimism and “purity” of heart, an animal lovers, someone with a lot of love to give, idealistic, enthusiastic, combative, someone who has faith, think hero of a shounen type of energy lol, a bit over the top and happy but can be destructive or overwhelming too, could be younger or act childlike at times, very spontaneous sagittarius, jupiter, leo, pisces

Appearance: 8 of wands, 4 of swords, 7 of swords

Physical appearance isn’t something he is super picky about, it’s more about the overall vibe, he likes a person who is active, has a lot of energy, quick movements, animated, expressive, youthful, a mischievous face, foxy features, someone he could find a bit intriguing, piercing, smiley eyes, sharper, smaller features, petite or not too tall. gemini, aries

Turn-offs: knight of wands, justice, page of wands

what he is turned off by is similar to his type, so it’s like the negative side of such a person, when it becomes too much, cockiness, bullies, irresponsible people, people who are too wild or childish, overly controlling people who think that they way is the only way, preachers people who force their opinion on others. sagittarius, aries, saturn

CHANGBIN

Personality: 8 of pentacles, knight of pentacles, 5 of wands

A hard worker, someone more quiet, humble, patient, yet who never gives up, endurance, capable of doing something for a very long time, quietly combative, stable and grounded, a reassuring presence, soothing, capable of great focus, organized, someone who is sweet and always ready to help others, yet if you cross them they won’t hesitate to defend themselves, strong character despite their initial apparent sweetness, someone polite but private, a bit shy, who doesn’t open up too easily virgo, taurus, saturn, aries

Appearance: the emperor, 2 of coins, 9 of wands

someone both tough and sweet looking, who can be intimidating at first sight but is actual sweet looking when you approach them, someone who stands out from the crowd, a mix of sharpness and softness, could be frowning face, but round features, small in stature yet big presence no matter their short height…etc, simple style, nothing too flashy capricorn, scorpio, virgo, aries

Turn-offs: the hanged man, ace of wands, 7 of swords

too much eccentricity, people who try toe hard to go against the current or do things differently, irresponsible people, laziness, people who are too impulsive and don’t think before making a decision (he prefers calm), trickster, people who try to hard to amuse others, people who are two-faced, people who always try to have things the easy way, crooks, people who have that fake artist vibe gemini, aquarius, pisces

HYUNJIN

Personality: knight of swords, the fool, 3 of pentacles

Someone spontaneous, even a bit impulsive or naive, but enthusiastic and optimistic, who has a lot of faith, someone curious who likes to learn and explore, could be someone younger than him, teacher/student dynamic where he is the teacher, someone intelligent and witty, intellectual, who doesn’t hesitate to voice their opinion, could be blunt or unpolished with words but he prefers someone with no filters, someone a bit idealistic, even if a bit blunt remains joyful, funny and happy most of the time gemini, pisces, sagittarius, mercury, jupiter

Appearance: temperance, justice, six of cups

very balanced, symmetrical and harmonious features, a classic beauty, kind, agreable, approachable face, soft features, flexible body, a good dancer, sexy, sensual, body language that shows you can trust them like someone who is more touchy yet it doesn’t seem out of place, someone with a certain stillness, who doesn’t move too much or is too fidgety or nervous, friendly aura, stylish, good fashion sense that is original but never garish libra, pisces, neptune, venus

Turn-offs: the emperor, 3 of swords, 6 of pentacles

Controlling, imposing, invasive people who ask too many questions and want to tell him how to live his life, untrustworthy, opportunistic people, people who try to hard to help him, get on his good side, pick me types, narcissists leo, negative air signs

HAN

Personality: knight of wands, the moon, ace of swords

someone adventurous, bold, brave, enthusiastic, a bit loud, fun, sporty, who enjoys the outdoors, honest and straightforward, fast paced, who wants to explore the world, yet there could be something a bit conditioned about this person, like someone who is overly competitive because of the pressure put upon them, or who wants to achieve so many things and is always up for a challenge but lack direction. This could be a specific person, or simply the type of person he always attracts/is attracted to, and he is meant to bring a bit of structure into their life, while this person motivates him and brings spontaneity in his life.  all fire signs, especially sagittarius and aries, uranus

Appearance: temperance, 3 of cups, the magician

balanced harmonious features, similar to Hyunjin's type, a flexible body, most likely a dancer, a friendly face, long thick hair, a more “exotic appearance”, could like foreigners, mischievous smiley feminine small features, round youthful face, could like a more artsy or ornated style especially jewelry or expensive clothes that are a bit eccentric in style libra, gemini, uranus, leo

Turn-offs: 2 of swords, strength, 6 of pentacles

someone indecisive, hesitant, always in control, too disciplined or never really able to express themselves with spontaneity, someone who expect things in return, calculating opportunistic people, people who are too focused on work, task, chores, overly practical people, people who don’t treat others as equals and try to be on top libra, virgo, capricorn, saturn, leo

FELIX

Personality: 8 of cups, page of swords, 5 of coins

Someone private, humble, remote from the kpop industry, probably not a celebrity, someone who may have been in the industry but wants to see something else, someone who could even see the shallow sides of his lifestyle and understands that their is more to life than fame and money, someone who understands money values, who understands what it is to struggle and work hard, a more simple person with a simple lifestyle, someone a bit spiritual who wants to focus on their well being and prioritize peace and quiet, an intelligent, knowledgeable, introspective person who he can learn from  pisces, scorpio, virgo, aquarius

Appearance: the chariot, ace of swords, 8 of wands

Someone regal, dignified yet simple, possibly a foreigner, mountain style, someone who doesn’t look too delicate or put together, he prefers a certain simplicity that conveys strength, a fresh, clean, natural vibe, healthy, an honest face earth signs, aries, sagittarius

Turn-offs: 3 of pentacles, 8 of pentacles, 10 of swords

Someone who wants to learn from him (I feel like he would prefer to learn from his person), a workaholic, someone trapped in their job, lifestyle, someone depressed, overworked, without energy for anything but their tasks, someone who could use substances or drugs/medications, someone who doesn’t take care of their health, unbalanced people, someone who overthinks, someone messy whose life is disorganized saturn, mercury, neptune

SEUNGMIN

Personality: the wheel of fortune, page of wands, the hierophant

Someone who goes with the flow, believes in life and let things happens, a very happy, funny, fun-loving, positive person, someone who is interested in many different things and activities, a ray of sunshine, someone very interested in exploring and needs movements yet also wants a comfortable stable safe haven they can go back to, a affectionate, loyal, steady partner, someone who always has a story to tell, someone with whom he would feel the bond is fated, a soulmate, possibly a foreigner or someone who has travelled a lot or would want to do so and is interested in different cultures, the life of the party sagittarius, pisces, jupiter, taurus, leo

Appearance: 2 of wands, queen of swords, 4 of wands

someone who looks marriage material, someone who can be a bit intimidating or impressive at first sight but is actually very warm and friendly, smiley, someone who could have a good fashion sense, very stylish and sophisticated, elegant, could look like him, strong body, could prefer someone with more meat on their bones leo, sagittarius, libra

Turn-offs: ace of swords, 5 of wands, the hierophant

blunt, rude, aggressive, competitive people, bad communicators, stupid, ignorant people who are too stubborn or stuck in their views, the hierophant showed up in what he is attracted to but it was in addition to very open minded, adventurous, joyful cards, which showed he needed a balance, but overly traditional people would suffocate him.  aries, mars, taurus

I.N

Personality: the moon, 4 of cups, queen of pentacles

Someone mysterious, dreamy, who may look uninterested in him or plays hard to get, a bit haughty, or who looks bored. Seductive and sensual, healing presence, soft, calm, feminine, reassuring. Sexual chemistry is important for him. An introvert, a bit reclusive. Could be a bit sulky. I see someone in their boudoir who is like a comfort for him by how warm and comfortable and pleasurable their presence is XD Someone whose presence sort of wraps around him. Could be a specific energy. capricorn, virgo, taurus, scorpio

Appearance: 2 of coins, 3 of swords, the hanged man

Someone with balanced features, soft, curvier huggable body type, melancholic look, a kind face, looks a bit sleepy, feminine, princess vibes, brown, green, earthy rich colors, thick rich voice, slow sensual movement, a bit of a siren pisces, earth especially taurus, venus, neptune

Turn-offs: page of wands, 3 of pentacles, 9 of pentacles

Someone childish, wild, too loud, exhausting with too much energy, can never sit still, probably someone younger than him who still has so much to learn, naivety, cluelessness, people who are out of touch with reality, someone who shows off their money or use money to control others, pay for everything in a way that he’d feel indebted, people who seem too happy, content or satisfied with their life and show off their happiness to others XD sagittarius, gemini, leo, negative taurus/capricorn

[thereadinggremlin]

Guarded Hearts

Part 2

Alright here you go guys!

POV: You find out Azriels your mate but you start getting the could shoulder from him after he returns from a mission.

It was a warm summer day when he realized he loved her. They were walking out along the Sidra taking in the day to day lives of the merchants. They got the day off from Rhys as he was spending a long time needed day with Fayre, no court or camp work to be done or thought of. You and him had Nyx for the day as Cassian had claimed that he and Nesta needed the day together and with Elain in the Spring Court with Lucian you two were the last options, not that he didn’t like the idea of spending the day with you but curious as to what mischievous acts you and Nyx would get up to.

You and Nyx had walked up to a musician that spent part of his day playing along the Sidra. At first you both were just enjoying the music but then you started dancing. Azriel stood off to the side but you and Nyx started dancing and laughing with nothing but the biggest smiles on your faces. At the sight Azriel started to relax a bit and felt a smile fighting to make an appearance on his countenance. He knew the horrors you grew up with, you got to keep your freedom of flying, thank the Cauldron, but that didn’t mean your father hurt you in other ways.

As he was watching you he felt that snap, the one he had been begging to feel since he was young and dealing with his own tourture that his family dealt him. He looked to you for any ounce of a reaction that you felt the same but there you were still laughing and dancing with his nephew. He pulled at the bond and your face changed for a moment but never strayed from the boy in front of you. At that moment he knew that he needed to put a sheild around that bond because no matter how strong he was there was no way he would have the discipline to not pull on it again, not until you felt it too in your own time. So immediately he but up that cold indifferent shield around the bond begging the cauldron that you would feel the same about him sooner rather than later.

For the next few months Azriel kept everything the same between the two of you, training in the morning for at least two hours by your own asking and determination to the post training flights. You both were drained but that didn’t stop you from leaping from the top of the house of wind to go fly for an hour. Azriel never knew why you did, maybe because it reminded you of the freedom you now have with your life, regardless he always joined you.

There were a few days you didn’t train as long or take your flight to clear your mind, and on those days Azriel would find you in the back corner of the library, the first few times lead by his shadows but soon enough he knew the way to you like you know the scars on the back of his hands.

“So what’s the reading material tonight, another recommendation from Nesta” he quipped as he approached you. There was no smile on his face, his own way to try and keep you from seeing his true feelings for you.

“Possibly, and if that’s the case maybe I should go find some unsuspecting male at Ritas to help me reenact some of these moments.” You replied without looking up from your book.

Many times Azriel would come in and ask you similar questions and you wanted to see if you could get a rise out of him. Apparently tonight you did because he walked right over to the stand that held the whiskey and glass and helped himself to a glass full.

As the silence expanded between the two of you there was a slight discomfort, which wasn’t normal for you. “Gonna share or keep it all to yourself?” You asked looking up from your book.

At your words he visually relaxed, poured himself a second glass and you your first.

“I thought you’d sit over there brooding this whole time” you responded to him handing you the glass. He sat next to you on the small loveseat that was located in this corner and stayed silent. That was the last night he visited you in the library.

Azriel knew that he was creating a distance between the two of you for a while but he couldn’t stop himself, until he knew that you also felt that bond he was gonna keep to himself. He couldn’t stand to break you heart or the heartbreak he would encounter himself if you didn’t feel the same and rejected him. His shadows would still follow you or bring you comfort, if they were going on their own accord or he was sending them, he didn’t know anymore.

Not too long after Azriel stopped hanging out with you Rhys had asked for a formal meeting with the whole inner circle. It was there that he learned that the uprisings he had been watching the last few months were getting more out of hand and these camp leaders needed to be reminded who the real leader was. Azriel was instructed to go to the camp you grew up in and even though it wasn’t Windhaven, it was a close second. During the meeting he felt a slight twinge, he didn’t dare look at you because he needed to make sure it was the bond and not something from his shadows.

He left immediately after the meeting because if he took a moment to look at you his whole facade would fall and the anger he felt towards your father would be even stronger.

When he walked into his room to gather his belongings he found Mor sitting in one of the chairs across from the fireplace.

“When are you going to tell her and stop putting the poor girl through so much torture?” She asked without looking from the fire.

Azriel was surprised by the brashness from Mor concerning you. After he felt the bond snap he felt that she was the only one to trust with the information of you being his mate.

“I told you I’m waiting until she feels the pull herself. I don’t want to freak her out before she’s ready. Now if you don’t mind I need to go beat the life out of her father.” He said with a scowl.

“Do you really think-“

“No I’m not thinking, that’s what she does to me and all I know is that I finally have the opportunity to bring pain tenfold of what he dealt to her back to him and that’s what I’ll do.” And like that he left.

When he returned from the camp he lifted the shield around the bond to see if maybe you felt it but there was nothing there. So, as he and Cassian passed you in the dining room he didn’t let his gaze fall to you but, he did dispatch a shadow to you, just to make sure you were ok. That’s what he told himself.

Then there was a day it all changed. He stopped is lonely training sessions and joined everyone else in hopes of seeing you but you weren’t there.

“Has y/n been coming at a different time to train alone?” He asked Cassian

“No, she hasn’t been around for a few days, I tried to check in on her but apparently she’s gone. Rhys said some sort of secret mission. I thought you would now about Mr.Shadowsiger.” Cassian responded. Azriels world turned on its axis. You were gone and no one told him.

He left the house of wind and went right to the river house where he knew Rhys would be in his office, he needed answers.

“Where have you sent her and why wasn’t I made aware of it?” Azriel basically yelled as he threw the office door open and practically off of its hinges.

“She said she needed to get away so I sent her away” Rhys said, face full of nutrality. Azriel knew he wouldn’t get anything out of his brother but he needed to try.

“Please tell me where you sent her before I send my shadows to her, I need to know she’s safe bec-“

“Because she’s your mate” Rhys finished for him.

Azriel was ready to beat his brothers face in because somehow he knew but kept it from him and still sent you away. Seeing the anger and worry on his brothers face Rhys tried to calm him down but the worry seeped from his being, and off his shadows went.

When Rhys saw the shadows disappear from his brothers form he reached out to you and although he was meat with a wall at first he knew a shadow had found you because he was able to easily break through your walls and all he could say was “I’m so sorry”

Tag list: @crazylokonugget @kalulakunundrum @mp-littlebit

[ridorukunmajitennshi]

hi! i saw ace is one of your favorites (your other suggestive writing with him is so cnxmznxmcnzmbcnz) i was wondering if you could write #10 with ace?!

pairing: ace trappola x gn!reader cw: suggestive, possessive ace a/n: anon i was so happy to write more for him, thank you for both the compliment and giving me an excuse to indulge!

send me a number + character!

You were asleep in bed when the abrupt, resounding clamour of someone knocking filled your petite dorm, each pound precipitating dust and moulder to descend from the roof. Who could it possibly be at this hour?

With gentle yet swift fingers, you picked Grim up off your chest and settled him back onto the mattress—as inflexible as it always is, it was handy in this case so as not to disturb the little monster—and you hurriedly made your way to the door.

“I’m coming-!” And as you pried open the door, you discerned Ace standing there; the opaqueness of the night accentuating his unreadable expression. Which almost looked oddly⋯ surprised, for an ephemeral moment?

“Hey, [name], did I wake you up?” Of course there wasn’t a trace of contrite lingering within his voice or eyes.

“Any normal person would be asleep at this hour,” you retorted as you staved off a yawn by taking in his appearance more carefully, noting how he was unadorned in a collar, “Did you and Deuce get into a fight or something?”

“Yeah, we did!” Ace briskly answered, folding his arms across his chest with a moue twisting on his lips, “I could hardly get any sleep with all his snoring, and things devolved from there until he and the others kicked me out for the night. So! Prefect⋯”

“No.”

“Tch. I didn’t even ask yet!”

“Pfft,” you chortled softly at the characteristic, asinine banter between the two of you before opening the door further, “come on in, Ace.”

The subdued, hushed click of you shutting the door and subsequently locking it resonated with Ace’s relief—he was thrilled that his little lie granted him access to you. He had already prepared a multitude of stories on the way here to inveigle you into letting him inside, yet you sanctioned one to fall right onto his lap.

But it’s not as if you fought him much on it to begin with. You really did cherish your friends, didn’t you?

“Choose any spare room you like, at least half of them are cleaned by now,” you pointed down the hall, a sleepy smile still arched on your lips.

Watching as you gyrated on your heel to leave, Ace reached forward and grasped your hand; his cheeks powdered with a cherry-coloured blush, just faint enough that you felt a twinge in your heart. “Stay with me a little longer? Just a little! Please?”

Acquiescing, finding yourself enthralled with that glow illuminating his countenance and that wistful plea, you nodded your head and the two of you planted yourselves down onto the couch in the foyer.

It was pretty rare for Ace to speak so desperately with you—perhaps he was feeling guilty about his little quarrel with Deuce? That didn’t seem likely, you thought with beads of sweat dropping from the side of your face.

“You know, [name], I was just wondering,” Ace began, glimpsing over your frame leaning on the couch and swallowing, “⋯ do you wear that as your pyjamas every night?”

“Hm?” You peered down at the oversized shirt you garbed, just large enough to conceal the edges of your underwear when you stand. “Yeah. It’s usually just Grim and I here, after all.”

Well, besides the ghosts, but they normally minded their own business most of the time anyway.

“Ehh? Is that so?” Ace seemed insouciant as he hummed, yet you got the unshakable feeling he was vexed. “Did you even check to see who was at the door before you answered it?”

Tilting your head as you raised an eyebrow, you riposted, “Does it matter?” There’s no way he came over to lecture you on safety? After all this time?

“Of course it does! What if it was someone else at the door?” he hissed, a scornful and exasperated mien contorting his ordinarily mellow face.

“The only people with enough guts to visit me in the middle of the night are you—and Deuce.”

“Someone other than me.”

Those virulent words surged a white-hot frigidity down the column of your spine, disquieting you in your seat.

Why couldn’t you just be a little smarter? And why couldn’t he be a little dumber?

Gripping your thighs in a taut clasp and spreading them apart, Ace slotted himself between them before setting a hand on the arm and back of the couch simultaneously; caging you in. And, for some reason, it felt so intimate to you.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” Ace, with a pitiful torture in his voice, spat, crimson eyes transfixed on your underwear hiding your heat, “How much I hate any bastard who looks at you⋯ when you should be mine, rightfully so. Why can’t they understand that? Why can’t you?”

Not once had Ace ever felt so tormented, so deeply, with or about any one of his previous exes—that girl he ghosted, or that boy who broke-up with him and the only thing on Ace’s mind was ‘ah, this juice is bitter’ as he unemotively sipped on it through the straw.

They both meant nothing to him.

He only really agreed to go out with either of them because he thought it’d be fun, a way to beguile the time.

Ace realized that the way he viewed love was in the same way someone would look at a dessert or afternoon snack—deliciously tempting when he saw others enjoying them, but the sweetness never filled him up, and he always grew bored of having the same thing over and over again. Sooner or later, he began to crave a new taste; or go hungry altogether.

Everyone around him wasn’t like him, they endlessly sought to savour that one dish. And he thought he’d never feel that same way.

Until he met you.

The irresistibly helpless—and cute—prefect.

Now Ace found himself greedily hoarding each and every morsel of attention you gave him like a starved, ravening man, afraid to consume even a crumb because he wouldn’t be able to receive them forever. Whether it was because you went back to your world, or you found someone else entirely.

“A-Ace, I—”

“⋯ I love you; so much that it’s laughable,” Ace sniggered ironically, a bitter smile curving on his lips as he brought his mouth closer to yours, “Aah, I won’t let you say no, [name].”

And Ace kissed you, conceding to his desires—because anything was better than the emptiness.

[lanawinters-ily]

The Purple Dragon

Wilhelmina Venable is the most unapproachable, untouchable individual you had ever met, yet she has a soft spot for you. Why?

Pairing: Wilhelmina Venable x Reader

Word Count: 1600

Warnings: mention of struggling with mental health

Wilhelmina Venable was a complex individual. Stand-offish, rude, stubborn. The negative descriptions could go on, yet some element of you felt drawn to her.

Throughout your lifetime you had always sought out hidden meanings - in books, signs, & eventually people. Being a firm believer in the fact that everything happens for a reason, meant that you always thought that people acted a certain way because of a certain thing.

There must be an explanation for everything - past or present. Whether this was a desire to control, or to balance the unknown in life, you didn’t know.

All that mattered was your inquisition. And consequently, this would lead you on the greatest adventure of your life.

You had known her for almost a year, the longest lasting assistant she had ever had. It could be due to your competence, your failure to give up, or possibly some element of Ms Venable.

However, this didn’t make working with the redhead any easier. She was called the ‘purple dragon’ for a reason; holding a fiery passion that most considered anger.

But not you.

Because of this, you had always treated Venable with the kindest of hearts. This was not unusual for you, but even the most saint-like person could crumble with one strike of the redhead’s stony glare. Luckily you had everlasting compassion when it came to even the most difficult of souls.

Well, not all the time.

It was a bad day. One of those days in which the bed is so comfy, so warm, so safe, that it seems impossible to leave. Your heart was heavy, & your mind even more so, dragging your body into the heavy depths; sinking & drowning as you were held down by the currents of numbness.

You should have called in sick, taken a day off for yourself, but you weren’t very good at doing this. Being a burden, a difficulty, seemed far worse than pulling yourself through the workday, so you chose to stumble into the office with the countenance of a particularly exhausted zombie.

Wilhelmina was also having a rough day, waking up with severe pain along her spine. This pain was not only physical, it also brought with it a fair share of mental anguish - mostly made up of resentment & irritation at her weakness.

What only made this worse was what the redhead discovered when she arrived at work. She had forgotten to bring her bag, & therefore, her medication.

Fuck, she cursed.

As the pain increased, she became even more aware of the fact that she couldn’t drive in this condition. She didn’t have a phone or any money either, so it’s not like she could call a taxi to pop home. Wilhelmina was just going to have to grit her teeth & bare it for the next few hours, hoping that the gods would spare her the agony just this once.

“Ms Venable? Are you alright?”

You had appeared in the doorway of Wilhelmina’s office, eyes worriedly scanning her hunched over figure.

The redhead snapped up into an unnoticeable posture, feigning normality despite the pained shudder that rippled through her body.

“I’m just fine Miss Y/L/N.”

It was her turn to do a double take, looking at you with narrowed eyes as she scrutinised your appearance.

“On the contrary, it seems that you are not.”

This was entirely in character for Ms Venable to make such a blunt observation, so you were used to it. However, for some reason, today it was the last straw.

You bursted into noisy tears & sank to the ground. Curled up into a ball, you sobbed uncontrollably, not even caring about who was watching. What you were crying about, you weren’t quite sure. All you knew was that you couldn’t take today, & your emotions had just spilled out in a violent flow.

All you wanted was to lay on this cold, uncomforting floor & fall asleep. Or disappear. Anything would be better than this.

"Hey, sh sh sh," a gentle voice shushed your sobs of despair.

The contrast in tone led you to believe that another of your colleagues had come to your rescue, yet you didn't recognize the voice. You looked up in confusion, only to be met with a blur of purple.

Ms Venable; formidable, heartless, cold Ms Venable was knelt next to you.

"Come on, little one. Let's get you up." She said in a whispered tone.

Half in shock, half still in despair, you allowed yourself to be led to the purple sofa by the window. Your body felt so numb, not feeling Ms Venable's tight grip, or the sofa material as you sank into it. All you could do was sit & stare blankly, too overwhelmed internally to make a sound.

A familiar hand just stroked through your messy hair, silently understanding that words were too much. Lulling you into a calm, dreamlike state, this repetitive motion was just what you needed.

As you caught your heavy breaths & your parasympathetic system took hold, Wilhelmina was facing her own battle.

Her back was still in agony, even more so after kneeling & supporting your weight. Yet, somehow, her heart hurt thrice as much.

She never wanted it to be this way. You were the kindest, sweetest, most gentle person she had ever met. There was an essence about you that was addictive to Wilhelmina, a perfume of lightness that she couldn't help but smell until she was perfectly dizzy with love.

That was the issue. Love.

"Ms Venable," you mumbled. "Your back, you can't be sitting like this it-"

"It's okay little one, I'm alright." She spoke gently. "And call me Wilhelmina."

You noticed. You saw her. If possible, the butterflies in Mina's stomach flew more frantically as she tried to control the deep blush that settled on her cheeks.

God, she felt like a lovesick teenager all of a sudden.

"Okay, Mina." You said cheekily, gaining some colour back to your previously pale disposition.

Wilhelmina gave you a stern look, but it was more a caricature of her usual demeanor, turned soft by you.

You both wanted to say something, but were simply lost in each other's eyes. Her pupils were a rich brown, so deep that you could wander in them for hours and never get bored.

Without warning, she moved closer to you, resting her hand onto your knee. You closed the gap, pulling her into a kiss of fiery passion.

Perhaps she did like being a dragon after all, just not in the way she had expected.

Wilhelmina was hypnotic; a drug, and now you had a taste you just couldn't get enough. And from the way she was kissing you, it seemed as if she was just as addicted.

She was the first to pull away, which made your breath shudder with anxiety. What if she regretted this?

But her comforting hand resting on your cheek, and the look of adoration in her eyes told you otherwise.

"What's going on sweet one, hm?"

You broke her gaze, feeling entirely too vulnerable. There was nothing you hated more than explaining your mental state; it didn't even make sense to you so how were you to express it.

"It's just one of those days Mina, where everything feels...wrong." You sighed. "I don't really know how to say it in a way that makes sense."

"It's okay." Wilhelmina nodded. "I think I get where you're coming from. Sometimes when I'm having a bad day with my back, I can struggle with that too."

"You do?" You said in surprise.

"Yes, darling. I do."

"But you're always so strong. I never would have thought."

"People have different ways of showing it, little one." Mina spoke gently. "I snap at people, I get angry, I scream; all because I feel so out of control."

"Oh." You said. It all made sense now.

This time, she captured your lips in a kiss. It was more slow and steady than the former; a way of saying 'we have time'.

So, you sat there for a while, quietly soaking in each other's presence and stealing a kiss every few moments.

If someone had told you an hour ago that Wilhelmina Venable would be looking at you like this, being gentle with you like this, you would have laughed in their face.

Never did you think that your feelings would be returned, and neither did she.

Suddenly the door creaked open, and one of your colleagues stepped in. Instantly you tensed, waiting for Wilhelmina to turn away from you, to be embarrassed by you.

But she sat, unmoving, as her steely gaze fixed on her new target.

"Susan." She said bluntly. "What have I told you about knocking before disturbing me?"

Now Susan was a fairly confident woman, chatty most times. But in the presence of the purple dragon, she crumbled and stuttered.

"I j-just needed-"

"Needed what? Something so important that you decided to barge straight into my office unannounced? An emergency, perhaps?"

"Well, no but-"

"Well then I'd prefer if you let us be, thank you."

And that was that. Susan scuttled out of the room like a scolded child. To your utmost surprise, Wilhelmina pulled you into her side and kissed your hairline.

"No harm will come to you now I'm around, little one."

"I love you Mina."

"I love you most, my sweet."

[aha-chuu]

I'm still thinking about Fontaine and the previous Hydro Archon, Furina & Neuvillette.

Because, like, we know Nahida is the youngest Archon, being born during the Cataclysm when Rukkhadavata died. Which means Furina must be older than 500 and must have existed at the same time as the previous Hydro Archon (I'll call her "Amrita" for simplicity's sake). Now I kind of think that Furina was a part of Amrita, since we know from the Oceanids that water can combine and disperse and maintain consciousness between these states. But that feels pretty similar to the Nahida situation so I'm not sure if Hoyo would do that.

In which case I'm free to headcanon that Furina was Amrita's problematic little protegee. Just a full on spoiled kiddo under the Archon's care, who got flung into authority unexpectedly after the cataclysm (explaining why she sucks so bad at it).

And if Furina did have a student-teacher relationship with Amrita, then it makes sense that the dissolving prophecy would be purposefully be left to her as a "conundrum" to be solved. Like Amrita realised Furina was a spoiled brat and wanted to leave a lesson to be learned behind.

Which then I think we need to talk about how Neuvillette fits into this dynamic. He's referenced as being at least a few hundred years old, and he's been around in Fontaine longer than Melusine records, since its rumoured that he's their creator when it was actually Elynas. So he probably also knew Amrita; yet I doubt he knew her for all that long.

In addition, it's pretty obvious that Neuvillette is the Hydro Dragon.

So here's my thought: Amrita is the Hydro Archon. She is pretty beloved by the people, but she doesn't believe a single person can ever be truly "fair and just" - one leader will always be coloured by bias. So she either splits off her consciousness to create Furina, or selects her from some other group as a student. She begins training Furina in the ways of balance and justice. During this same period, the Hydro Dragon is reborn in Fontaine as Neuvillette.

Now, whether Neuvillette is born to a human family or simply in human form doesn't really matter. I enjoy the idea of an egg appearing in the court and hatching out a tiny baby with elf ears, so let's say that's what happened.

Amrita recognises him as one of the dragons and becomes captured by a new idea - the dragons had previously been usurped on Teyvat, and Amrita is interested in fairness above all else. Rather than herself and Furina becoming Fontaine's dual leaders, it would be much more just for an archon and a dragon to rule together. It had all the benefits of defeating bias, while opening the country up to a new perspective.

So Amrita takes Neuvillette as a student too. Furina is still around and continues to be treated as Amrita's charge, yet she loses the responsibility of leadership before ever finishing the training. Neuvillette is instilled with the measure and countenance of a Justice, while Furina is allowed to watch along, worshipped as the Archon's companion.

She was there first, but Neuvillette is the "golden child". Furina resents the lack of attention.

Amrita still desires Fontaine to have co-leaders. When she must head towards her death during the Cataclysm, she leaves both Furina and Neuvillette in charge. When given this opportunity, Furina selfishly pronounces herself as the Archon upon Amrita's death. It's this act of treachery that drives away the Oceanids.

Neuvillette, being younger and less experienced, does not stand up to Furina. He is dedicated to carrying out justice, not leading the nation.

Furina quickly realises that she does not know what she is doing. She basks in the attention at first, but then crumples under the pressure. And so, she gives Neuvillette the title of "Chief Justice". In name, Furina remains the authority over Fontaine. However, in reality, all of the responsibility is placed upon Neuvillette's shoulders.

It was only in Amrita's prophecy, therefore, that Furina would be "left alone weeping" after her people dissolved. In every other matter, Neuvillette could deal with it. But for this utmost challenge to face the Nation, Furina alone carries the burden.

Neuvillette never gets the chance to exist outside of his role, but that helps clarify his connection to the people. He's their reliable Chief Justice, and that gives him an avenue to understand them through. Meanwhile, Furina does everything to remain popular, understanding her people only far enough to ingratiate herself to them. When it comes to how the people of fontaine will all dissolve, however, it's a problem she investigates behind closed doors, terrified of being seen struggling with her single duty to her nation.

[ouyangzizhensdad]

Drunk!Lan Zhan and Honesty

Within the narrative, we find LWJ in a drunken state in three separate instances. The über lightweight Lan offers, at first glance, a perfect opportunity for WWX to probe at his deepest secrets and reveal the truth beneath his perfect cultivator countenance. Or, at least, this is what WWX insists is going on.

The drunken version of Lan Wangji was astonishingly honest and forthcoming. Moreover, compared to his usual self, his words and actions were so bold and unrepressed! It was rare to encounter such an open and unreserved Lan Wangji. How could Wei Wuxian possibly treat him with due respect and resist making mischief? (Chapter 31)

WWX sees LWJ being drunk as an opportunity to find answers to his questions--better yet, once he learns that LWJ does not remember anything that happened while he was inebriated, his inebriation becomes an opportunity to ask risky questions with impunity. This is  what leads him to trick LWJ into drinking alcohol at the inn in Yunping, since he is too afraid of ruining his friendship and relationship by asking whether his own feelings are reciprocated--if he asks LWJ while he is drunk, and he receives the answer he dreads, the next morning LWJ will be none the wiser and still treat him as a friend.

Interestingly, though, within the three episodes of LWJ being under the influence and made vulnerable to honesty, this very situation actually works to unlock WWX’s unconscious or repressed desires, and leads him to act upon them more openly than when he is facing a sober LWJ. In this clearly intentional subversion, WWX ends up revealing as much, if not more, while he interacts with an inebriated LWJ during these three episodes.

The first time

WWX’s desire to have LWJ drink with him is in parts motivated by the desire to see his drunken mannerisms, but also the simple wish to see him blush. When he realises his face does not change, he expresses disappointment: “Lan Zhan, why isn’t your face even the least bit red when you’re drunk?” (CH31)

After he washes LWJ’S face, a particular sign of endearment we will see re-appear (especially once they are together) makes its first appearance: “Looking at Lan Wangji’s clear gaze, Wei Wuxian could not resist and he stroked Lan Wangji’s chin lightly.” (CH31)

When he asks a series of questions to LWJ to verify whether he is truly answering them honestly, one stands out amongst the rest, even if WWX pretends he asks it without any forethought. That is, “have you ever liked anyone?” (CH31). After reading the whole book, it becomes clear that WWX had desired from the beginning to be liked by LWJ, and no matter how cheeky he was being, we can read into the question WWX’s unconscious wish that LWJ had liked him in the past.

His reaction to LWJ’s honest declaration of want (when he believes to be asking whether LWJ wants Bichen but LWJ hears him asking whether he wants him) is also revealing, at a point in the story where WWX still denies to himself any attachment or attraction to LWJ.

Wei Wuxian was aware that Lan Wangji was already hopelessly drunk, and that these words were not directed at him. However, he was still struck so hard by these two words that his legs and arms felt weak. This Lan Zhan... If he were this honest and passionate towards a lady, what a formidable man he would be! (Chapter 31)

This first drunken episode however ends abruptly, as LWJ claims it is haishi and thus time to rest. None of the questions WWX meant to ask have been answered, though many he wasn’t aware he wanted to ask indeed were.

… Fine. There would always be another opportunity to get Lan Wangji drunk again. Sooner or later, he would get his answer. (Chapter 31)

The second time

Similar to the first instance, LWJ drinks of his own volition after WWX expresses the desire to share a drink with him: “Hanguang-jun, aren’t you being a bit too considerate? Are you really going to drink with me?” Wei Wuxian said with some astonishment.“ (CH43)

As soon as LWJ falls asleep, WWX’s strong attraction immediately surfaces, and he feels compelled not just to tease but to become closer to his sleeping form. So taken is he by looking at him that he fails to hear Wen Ning knocking.

A strange, eager excitement surged within him and, in one gulp, he finished off the remaining liquor in the pot before standing up. Resting his hands behind his back, he paced back and forth across the room. Suddenly, he walked to Lan Wangji’s side and leaned over, lowering his head and whispering into his ear.

“Lan Zhan?”

There was no reply.

“Wangji-xiong?” continued Wei Wuxian.

Lan Wangji’s head was supported by his right hand, his breathing slow and steady.

Both his features and the hand at his forehead were pale and flawless like fine jade.

The faint flagrance of sandalwood wafted off of him. The scent had originally been cold and somewhat sombre. Now, as it combined with the liquor’s mellow aroma, a few tinges of warmth rippled through the frost. As though a saccharine whisp had wound its way through, the scent was almost intoxicating.

The aroma swirled around Wei Wuxian’s lungs as he stood near Lan Wangji. Involuntarily, he sank lower, bringing himself closer. A hazy thought clouded his mind. Strange… why does it seem a bit hot?

Though Wei Wuxian remained entirely unaware, amid the inebriating fusion of liquor and sandalwood, his face inched nearer and nearer. His voice also sank lower until he was whispering in a teasing tone.

“Lan… er—”

“Gongzi…” a soft voice suddenly said.

Wei Wuxian’s face had already gotten so close to Lan Wangji that he could easily reach out and touch him, and the ‘gege’ on his tongue had been on the verge of passing between his lips. But the sound startled him awake and his feet slipped beneath him, nearly sending him crashing to the ground. (Chapter 43)

This moment of honesty does not break through to WWX’s consciousness, who wonders at finding himself so near to LWJ, and having his heart beat so fast: “ Only now did Wei Wuxian realise that his heart was beating rather quickly. He puzzled over it again, then regained his composure.” (CH43).

Yet, although he refuses to acknowledge the obvious reason for his state, no sooner does he give in again:

He returned to Lan Wangji’s side and leaned against his ear.

“Lan Zhan, oh Lan Zhan, please stay asleep longer. I’ll be back before you know it. Be a good boy, okay?”

Once the last word left his lips, he felt his hand itch and could not help but brush the tip of his finger against Lan Wangji’s eyelashes. (Chapter 43)

After LWJ wakes up, WWX once more positions himself as the one to extract answers out of an honest LWJ: “His eyes were so clear, so honest that a desire for mischief surged through Wei Wuxian. As though something inside of his body had been ignited, he smiled teasingly. “Lan Zhan, are you still going to answer any question I ask? Do whatever I tell you to?“ (CH44)

Of course, LWJ likewise reveals many things under his inebriated state; for instance by tying up WWX with his forehead ribbon, both denoting that WWX is his chosen person but also suggesting much about his desires. Even his “domineering attitude”, as WWX calls it, later is expressed in their sexual rapports. However, at this point of the narrative, WWX is unable to parse these clues partly due to missing information, such as not yet knowing the true meaning of the Lan clan’s forehead ribbon.

The fact that LWJ will forget the events of the evening seems to be the biggest push that encourages WWX to be more brazen in his actions, which only serves to bring to light his unconscious desires, leading to what he believes to be their first kiss. In this exchange, WWX hides his own want behind the performance that he’s doing it only because LWJ seems to like it.

Am I just going to let Lan Zhan have all the fun by himself? Wei Wuxian thought. No way. That’s unacceptable. Anyway, no matter what I do to him, he’s not going to remember anything when he wakes up tomorrow. I’m going to have even more fun with him.

With his arms around Lan Wangji, Wei Wuxian returned to the bed with him.

“You like this, don’t you?” he asked. “Don’t turn around. Speak. Do you like it or not? If you like it, then we don’t have to run around first every single time. I’ll make you as happy as you want.”

As he spoke, he tugged Lan Wangji’s hand upward, lowered his head and kissed once between his pale, slim fingers.

Lan Wangji tried to pull his arm away like last time but Wei Wuxian held it firmly in place, refusing to let go.

His lips touched Lan Wangji’s fingertips. With feather-light breaths, Wei Wuxian roamed up each knuckle until he reached the back of his palms. There, he kissed him again.

No matter how hard Lan Wangji tugged, he was unable to tear his hand away. He could only clench his fingers together into a tight fist.

Wei Wuxian pushed up his sleeve a little, revealing a snow-white wrist. He kissed it as well.

Afterwards, he gazed at Lan Wangji without lifting his head.

“Is this enough yet?”

Lan Wangji pressed his mouth tightly shut, refusing to speak.

Wei Wuxian finally sat up straight again and continued, his voice unhurried, “Tell me, did you burn any paper money for me?”

There was no answer. Wei Wuxian chuckled and pressed toward Lan Wangji. He kissed his chest through his robes.

“If you don’t talk, I’m not gonna give you any more. Tell me. How did you know it was me?”

Lan Wangji closed his eyes. His lips trembled, as though he were about to open his mouth and confess.

However, as Wei Wuxian gazed upon those soft, pale-pink lips, something momentarily possessed him. He suddenly went and placed a kiss upon them.

When he was finished, he even licked them, as though the kiss had not been enough.

Abruptly, both men’s eyes widened.

After a long, long time, Lan Wangji sharply lifted his hand. Startled out of his daze, Wei Wuxian immediately broke into a cold sweat. (Chapter 44)

After the fact, once he’s “startled out of his daze,” WWX blames his action on his own drinking, even though the narrative has shown him drinking much more alcohol without any impact on his behaviour, thus encouraging the reader to see through WWX’s obvious deflection. In this exchange, when faced with an inebriated LWJ, WWX has revealed just as much, if not more, without intending to.

No more alcohol for me. I’ve really had enough.

Then, he turned back. His gaze just able to brush past the divider. He stared at Lan Wangji’s profile as the man lay silently on the bed.

I really did drink too much today. Lan Zhan is such a noble and proper person. Even if he were drunk, even if he probably won’t remember when he wakes up, I should not have teased him in such an outrageous way… It was far too disrespectful.

Rembering the outrageous way Wei Wuxian had teased Lan Wangji, he could not help but bring his hand up to his face and touch his own lips.

The third time

Unlike the two previous times, an insecure WWX makes the dubious choice of tricking LWJ into drinking to try to settle his own heart. This takes place after the confrontation in Lotus Pier, where WWX convinced himself that LWJ was insulted by JC’s ‘accusations’ regarding their relationship. Unsettled, he is too scared to ask LWJ directly, but he realises he has little control over his feelings when it dawns on him that he truly can no longer sleep without LWJ next to him. Then, he reasons, there would be little risk in asking a drunk LWJ, who would not remember being asked in the first place. He also convinces himself that this is all he wants, that he has no other desires; simply to confirm, only to know.

Just as he was about to pour the wine, he paused for a split second, warning himself immediately, If he doesn’t drink it, then let it go. If he drinks it, I’ll only ask a few things. I definitely won’t do anything else. I only have to know what he thinks. He won’t remember anything after he wakes up anyways… It won’t interfere with anything.

Only after such a promise did his hands steadily pour the cup full. As if nothing happened, he pushed it in front of Lan Wangji. He’d already been prepared for if Lan Wangji didn’t drink it, but perhaps because Lan Wangji’s mind was busy as well, he didn’t even look at it as he raised it and drank everything.

[...] This time, he fell asleep right on the sitting mat. He still sat properly. Apart from his closed eyes and chin pointing downward, his sitting pose was no different from the norm. Wei Wuxian waved his hand a few times in front of his face. When there was no reaction, he was finally relieved. He reached out, gently lifted Lan Wangji’s chin, and whispered, “I’ve been holding it back all these days. Hanguang-jun, you’re finally in my hands now.” (Chapter 92)

This is reiterated later when, as he bathes LWJ--his head is full of questions, but most of all, full of “the question that he’d always held in the back of his mind, the question he wanted to ask the most— Hanguang-jun, just what do you think of me?“ (CH94)

Ironically, WWX gets immediately distracted from his goal by his attraction to LWJ, drawing for a kiss before he regains self-control at the last minute. This amount of distraction, to the point his body is moving on his own, seems to happen at this point in the narrative mostly when WWX is facing a drunken LWJ. The same situation happens soon after, when once again WWX becomes distracted by the desire to kiss him:

Lan Wangji turned to the other side. Wei Wuxian grabbed his shoulder and turned him back around, coaxing, “Look at me. Don’t run away. Come, come, look at me.”

And so Lan Wangji looked at him. Both of the two stared at each other’s face. They were too close, so close that he could even count Lan Wangji’s long eyelashes. Cold sandalwood and amorous wine—two aromas intertwined amid the unnoticeable breaths.

After a long while of staring, Wei Wuxian’s heart beat faster and faster. He finally couldn’t take it any longer and retreated in defeat, the first to avert his gaze. (Chapter 93)

Interestingly, WWX is seemingly becoming aware of the influence of a drunken LWJ on his own state of mind, and MXTX is bringing our attention to this fact we’ve witnessed in the past two instances of LWJ being drunk: “Now that [LWJ] was drunk, Wei Wuxian’s past dilemma had completely disappeared. It was as if all the wildness in him that had nowhere to go finally found an exit out of his body.” (CH93)

We can seriously doubt that WWX’s brazen action later during the night, when he grabs LWJ in the tub, would have taken place if he had realised that LWJ had sobered up by that point. Not only because of the way a drunk LWJ at this point in their relationship helps WWX connect with his unconscious or repressed desires; not only because it seems to clear his mind and allow for an exit for all “all the wildness in him;” but also because the thought that LWJ will forget everything--all this makes him bolder.

Looking at him sitting in the bathtub serenely, Wei Wuxian suddenly felt he looked pitiable, so he hooked his finger and caressed his chin slightly in an attempt to appease him. Suddenly, he felt that that wasn’t enough; his hand and heart itched and he felt a desire to caress Lan Wangji’s chest. Yet as his hand wandered down, he was stopped by Lan Wangji, grabbing his wrist.    

That night, Wei Wuxian had already directed countless of such small gestures at Lan Wangji and had gotten used to Lan Wangji going along with them. To suddenly be halted and grabbed, Wei Wuxian was stunned momentarily, not knowing how to react.

[...] With this face, with this kind of expression, under such circumstances, with this person… Wei Wuxian felt as though his entire body had been doused in a fire that burned away all his rationality and lit him ablaze.

In a manic spur of impulse, he reached his other hand into the water and roughly grabbed at a certain part of Lan Wangji, breathing, “Hanguang-Jun, don’t you dare tell me that you don’t like me touching you like this!”

We likewise get the admission of something that had been true since their teenage years: “Lan Zhan, did you know that I really like it when you get angry…” (CH94)

After their entanglement, WWX reflects upon the fact that his real desires had been revealed in all of this. All the assurances that he had given himself before making Lan Wangji drunk, of “only asking questions and not doing anything else”, was an incomplete picture, a lie (CH95). Ultimately, the truth in WWX’s heart was that he wanted all of LWJ, not just an answer to his question.

Conclusion

Rather than simply using the three instances in which LWJ becomes drunk as a means to bring down his barriers and force him into honesty, as WWX himself believes, MXTX demonstrates how seeing LWJ in this state likewise brings down WWX’s barriers, and allows him to express desires that he might not even be aware of or might not want to acknowledge. In other words, without realising, WWX allows himself a vulnerability around this version of LWJ that he never shows otherwise (that is, until they confirm their feelings to be reciprocated). It’s a pity then, that the very thing that helps him be so unconsciously honest means that LWJ will have no recollections of what transpired and remain uncertain of WWX’s feelings until his confession at Guanyin Temple. In that sense, both are vulnerable and honest, but there is no true reciprocity in those moments.

[liaa--qb]

'The Viper and nightingale game'

[ Dark mean Aemond x strong niece ]

Warning : it's gonna be quite dark coming chapters, mean Aemond, dark Aemond, violence, non con/dub con, incest, uncle x niece

(would appreciate likes, comments N sharing❤️)

Intro -

Last time Prince Aemond saw her he wanted to hurt her so bad, scar her, rut her delicate soft skin with his favourite dagger badly. How can he forget that day when he was mutilated for life all thanks to his fucking cousin and specially his fucking bloody little niece and nephews.

The way she was using that good for nothing mouth to speak against him to defend her cousins like he isn't her cousin just like them. She was there scared lowering her eyes while speaking hiding behind her mother again and again. Oh how badly Aemond wanted to grab her and cut that fucking tongue of her. He can, for exchange of lost his eye his can ! She wasn't even able to look at him.

He was in too much pain, too much for a kid like him, but anger became Aemond's best friend for that time. Anger rose to it's highest peak inside him. Things went through Aemond's mind. Is it allowed to enter the chamber of a bastard in the Driftmark at night just because he wanted to? How much would she hide.

During night he will catch her while sleeping and take his revenge with her properly. He will mutilate her whole face, so that nobody will be able to look at her. Someday she has to face him.

Later in the stillness of the night, while everyone else slept, Aemond made his way to his young niece's chamber. He couldn't explain why he wasn't being cautious, avoiding detection. Perhaps anger was clouding his judgment, rendering him indifferent to guards and consequences. His sole desire was to exact a vengeful retribution. Clenching his fists and clutching a small dagger, he approached Rhaewina's room.

Aemond marveled at the absence of guards or protective measures. The fact that this little girl seemed so assured about her safety surprised him. Given recent events, one would expect her to be fearful for her life. No matter, she would come to understand her vulnerability soon enough. A sly smirk played on his battered face.

Upon entering her chamber, Aemond halted in his tracks, witnessing Rhaenyra by Rhaewina's side. She cradled the young girl's head in her lap, offering a gentle massage and recounting what appeared to be a tale. Aemond's disdain grew as he interpreted Rhaenyra's actions as an attempt to find solace while his own life lay in ruins. The simmering anger fueled his impatience.

Rhaenyra spun a story about a viper and a nightingale – the hungry viper's relentless pursuit of the elusive nightingale. Despite the viper's cunning and attempts to manipulate, the nightingale always eluded capture. Aemond had heard this tale countless times and found it tiresome. He remained, biding his time for the right moment. As Rhaewina drifted into slumber, Rhaenyra finally departed.

Within minutes, Aemond seized his niece roughly, jolting her awake with a harsh shake. Her fear-stricken eyes met the sight of her uncle's furious countenance. She attempted to scream, but Aemond swiftly covered her mouth with his hand. Her eyes were wide with terror.

"Listen closely, you little bastard bitch. I intend to reclaim my vengeance, mirroring the pain you all caused me. You will suffer just as you made me suffer, my dear little niece. Let us return to King's Landing and witness what fate has in store for you," Aemond seethed. In a desperate bid, Rhaewina bit down on his finger, seizing the chance to scream. However, Aemond forcefully grasped her chin, silencing her attempts.

"You possess a sharp tongue, indeed. Consider that your punishment for my eye. Your tounge for my eye, right ? Remember this threat, and know that any further noise will result in me disfiguring your face on the spot, afterall you do deserve a punishment" Aemond warned. With that, he left her chamber knowing his sister can return anytime, leaving his young niece traumatized by the ordeal. In that moment, Rhaewina resolved never to return to King's Landing.

[frequentlysecondo]

Mia Arancia || Fluff || Primo x gn!Reader

Tl;dr: Sharing fruit as a love language and Primo deserves a break from gardening in the summer.

This is my first time posting writing on tumblr, I apologize if my formatting is a little clumsy <3

In the enchanting nature of the Ministry’s garden, the rows of greenery were bathed in the golden hues of the rapidly approaching end of the day and appeared as otherworldly as ever. Primo could be seen standing in the middle of his growing vegetables, looking reminiscent of a scarecrow as he marveled over what must’ve been long hours of work, remaining motionless as he stood exactly where you had hoped to find him.

Primo simply observed your leisure stroll as you made your way closer and arched an eyebrow curiously. His gaze flickered between your approaching figure and the horizon, questioning the unexpected visit. Nonetheless, the sight of you beckoning him from the other side of the garden with an eager wave only piqued his interest further. Knowing your penchant for mischief and mystery, a smile tugged at his face when you approached.

Drawing closer to Primo, you tilted your head, studying his countenance intently. His voice, though calm and composed, carried a note of playful suspicion.

"And to what do I owe the pleasure?" He inquired with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes. "You're up to something, aren't you, mio dolcezzo?"

You shook your head, your faux serious expression suddenly shifting into a wide grin. "No, no," you responded, your voice laden with a faux sense of urgency. "This is a matter of very serious business, my dear. C’mere." With a playful flourish, you waggled your fingers and extended a hand in a hopeful invitation.

Once your fingers had interlaced together, the two of you ventured further into the back corners of the garden. Eventually, your steps came to a halt, leading you to a secluded alcove adorned by a magnificent orange tree. Its branches gracefully bowed under the weight of growing fruit imbued with the warm hues of a setting sun. Primo’s eyes sparkled with delight as his gaze swept over the nearly picturesque scene before him, his eyes moving from the lush emerald leaves to your face. A smile played upon his lips as he clasped your hands in his own, your fingers entwined like an unbreakable bond.

“Ah, you’ve led me to the orange tree,” he whispered, a blend of curiosity and surprise clearly evident in his words. A confused chuckle escaped him.

“I had planned on harvesting these in a few days time.” he admitted with a hint of amusement.

Before he could continue, you drew his attention to a particularly low-hanging branch which bent under the weight of a perfectly ripe orange. Excitement brimmed in your voice as you pointed it out, the already wrinkled sleeve of his shirt crumpled further in your fist in attempt to pull his body closer to the branch in question.

“But look! This one is ripe today.”

Leaning over your shoulder, Papa reached up to gracefully pluck the orange from its branch. A glimmer of admiration danced in your eyes as you watched his movements, amazed by the confidence held in the simple swing of his arm as he brought it back down to open his palm in a proposal.

“Are you suggesting we share our first orange of the harvest?” He gently turned the fruit in his hand, inspecting the dip where the gentle curve of a leather peel met the wooden stem. The time spent considering what he had asked was closer to a day dream rather than a debate on your actual answer, artificial hesitation induced by an overactive imagination. After a few moments your distraction was cut short by the feel of firm, pitted rind being pressed into your palm. “We must eat it together, of course," His expression beamed with a sense of pride as he spoke, eagerly presenting you with the literal fruit of his labor as a treasure to be cherished, shared.

“I’ve always thought oranges are best when split with someone else.” It was hard to resist a smile while agreeing and holding the orange up to the light to study it for yourself. Sitting down in the grass under the tree, there’s a comforting wave of tranquility as you lean back against the textured bark before pushing a fingernail against the rough skin of the fruit and slowly beginning to pull it apart. Primo slowly sits down next to you with a soft sigh as his muscles stretch, your shoulders bumping together sending a rush of electricity through your veins even after all the time you’d spent together.

"You know, you're quite good at peeling these things," he mentions quietly as he studies your movements. "How do you do it so effortlessly?" He asks curiously, raising a brow. You laugh in response, the sound twinkling like wind chimes in the light breeze as you held out a slice of the orange to Primo.

“Lots of practice. Oranges are my favorite.”

"Orange peeling is a rather unique skill to practice," The grin that shines on his face could easily beat out the brilliance of the sun when he reaches out to take the section of fruit.

“You can peel it so easily and swiftly," He continues with a hint of admiration in his voice.

“You always make the simplest of things most interesting. Thank you for offering your skills to me, mia arancia." His attempts to butter you up make you laugh, scooting closer to him in order to duck under his arm despite the summer heat that still lingered in the air.

"We'll have to share one each day, sì?" He suggests while biting into the orange slice, the sweet juice dribbling on his chin and smearing along the black lines of his face paint that was already distorted by the sweat of the day.

“I would like that very much. It’ll remind you to take a break, too.” You tease Primo playfully. Despite being retired, he still insists upon spending long days tending to his plants, rare to take a rest without being prompted. The thought of meeting every day for something so small simmered in your mind, the tender domesticity of being near one another for no real reason other than to exist. Together.

“Did you know there’s a lot of poetry about sharing oranges with your loved ones?” You ask suddenly as you pop a slice of the juicy fruit into your mouth and continue to peel the opposite side.

"I didn't know that," he admits. "About the poetry." He pauses for a moment. "What does it say?" He asks quietly while he lays his head atop yours, content to watch your fingers move swiftly to continue separating the sections.

“It’s all symbolic of sharing your life and love in a gentle way. A simple act of service can carry great meaning, you see?”

Pure contentment bubbles in your chest as you feel Papa shift closer to you and the feather light flutter of his lips pressing a kiss against your shoulder is enough to make you wonder if you have ever truly felt this peaceful before. You hold up another piece of the fruit close to his face in offering as you explain further.

“To love someone enough to cherish the mundane. I’ll read you some.”

And so you sat together until long after the horizon imitated the color of the fruit passed between between your hands, repeating lines of prose while sharing an orange or three with the sweet nectar sticky between your fingers and lips.

“[..] They got quarters and I had a half.

And that orange, it made me so happy,

As ordinary things often do

Just lately. The shopping. A walk in the park.

This is peace and contentment. It's new.

The rest of the day was quite easy.

I did all the jobs on my list

And enjoyed them and had some time over.

I love you. I'm glad I exist.”

-The Orange, Wendy Cope, 1992

[genshinarchives]

RUNS OVER HERE I SAW THAT YOUR REQUEST ARE STILL 9/10 I HOPE I'M NOT LATE If I'm late please feel free to ignore this

But! Gorou, Itto and Zhongli with an s/o who just likes giving small butterfly kisses? Fleeting, lingering small kisses across their skin (not directly onto their lips. In fact it's kinda rare, maybe just the corner of their lips).

Thank you!! And again I'm sorry if I'm late, if I am late please feel free to delete!

Zhongli, Gorou, Arataki Itto / gender-neutral reader.

Synopsis: It's rare for him to a receive a kiss on the lips from you.

#ZHONGLI

Zhongli blinked when you took his face into your hands, and he instinctively leaned into one of your palms, his amber hues twinkling in curiosity as he watched you bring yourself closer to him. Moments like this tend to happen after he returns home from work, and while he prefers to spend the evening resting, he doesn't mind unwinding with you.

"Is something the matter, dove?" he quietly asked, but received no response from you. His lips parted slightly in surprise when something warm and soft brushed against his cheek, prompting his eyelids to flutter shut. As his entire body relaxed, you proceeded to trail fleeting kisses across his face only to then stop on the corner of his mouth, which caused a small disappointed frown to appear on his countenance.

"Am I allowed to make a selfish request?" he murmured, tucking a loose lock of hair behind your ear.

You smiled at him knowingly. "Go on."

Cupping your hands that were on his cheeks, he implored, "Please grant me a proper kiss. It's been an exhausting day..."

With an airy laugh, you leaned in and softly planted your lips on his. Not wanting to waste a single second of this gratifying moment, Zhongli swiftly moved one hand to the back of your head to prevent you from pulling away, before coiling an arm around your waist and pressing you possessively against his chest.

#GOROU

When Gorou stepped inside the small house he shared with you in Watatsumi Island, he felt a pair of arms encircle his waist from behind and immediately stiffened as his instincts as a soldier kicked in. Upon recognising your scent however, he relaxed and turned around to beam at you, his hands gently clasping your elbows.

"I'm home!" he exclaimed, eagerly leaning towards your face. Without words, you knew what he wanted from you as it has already become a daily routine. Playfully rolling your eyes, you pecked his cheek, causing his bushy tail to swish happily behind him.

"Welcome home, Gorou. You've returned at the right time; dinner's ready," you said. You chuckled when his tail appeared to wag harder at the mention of food, and you had to point it out to him before he ends up spraining it. Embarrassed, he quickly grabbed his tail with one hand, forcing it to cease its movements.

"Y-you didn't see that," he stammered, red patterning his cheeks.

"Sure..." you drawled out, "Anyway, come to the table once you've washed up." Before you could leave to set up the dining table, Gorou snatched your wrist and thus stopped you in your tracks. When you threw a quizzical look over your shoulder, he cleared his throat.

"You promised yesterday."

"Oh... Right." Returning to his side, you pressed small, lingering kisses on his cheeks and nose, before leaving a quick kiss on his lips just to tease him. When you pulled away from Gorou, there was a visible pout on his face.

"It's not fair, why do you always do this?" he whined, his ears drooping in disappointment.

"Because it'll feel more special the next time I kiss you on the lips properly," you told him, grinning.

#ARATAKI ITTO

"Sunshine, give me a kiss!"

"Sure."

Itto swiftly trapped your head in between his palms just as you're about to lean in, puzzling you.

"What's wrong? Didn't you want me to kiss you?" you asked, arching an eyebrow.

He frowned at you. "Now hold it. I know what you're going to do... You're just going to give me tiny kisses on the cheeks... and that's not what I want at all!" Letting out a low puff of air, he brought your face in as he leaned down to your level. "I want a kiss on the lips. The most passionate, lust-filled-"

Before he could finish his sentence, you softly pecked his nose, making him falter. Your lips then flitted across his face, leaving butterfly-like touches that make him weak. He quickly became putty under your affectionate assault, and you had to cup his cheeks to keep him in place; even though he complains so much about your kisses, he seems to enjoy them nonetheless...

Since you felt generous today, you decided to grant him the kiss he really wanted from you and pressed your lips against his. Itto's eyes were blown wide from the familiar pressure on his lips and when it finally registered in his mind, he wrapped his arms around your waist and returned the kiss, stealing your breath away in the process.

Taglist: @coco-goat-milk​ @m3gitsune @melkxsh @irethepotato @frostines-blog @vivisimpact​ @xxhome-is-where-ria-isxx @crunchy-princeles @sanzuulvr @sinnyrants

[maxemilianverstappen]

A part of my Lestappen Vampire AU

"Everyone is born to be the best at something." The leader of the masked men commented, thoughtful. His shadowed gaze was nailing Charles on to the ground where he was heaving and panting like a wounded animal. But even at the display of such raw human failure groveling right in front of him, he was quite apathetic in the way he sat there, relaxed but still alert, also much more powerful and in control of the situation than one would expect from a man of his age. "And what you are best at doing is persevering." He appeared to be impressed in an almost sadistic approval. "You have been persevering all your life, haven't you? Against everything life has ever thrown at you. But this one... This one is the result of your own chosing."

Charles growled at him from where he was wheezing and trembling in tormented want. "You all tricked me!" He snapped, his voice foreign to his own ears, harsh, warped with pain and immeasurable thirst. Full of teeth... It was a miracle how he wasn't cutting his own lips and tongue on them as he literally barked at the men who were the cause of all his grief. "You told me it would liberate me! Told me everything would be better!" He strained against his chain, his muscles going even more prominent than they usually were as he made the metal creak and whine under his unnatural power. "Instead, you turned me into this monster!" He screamed.

The men didn't even flinch at his impressive display of aggression. They just sat there in the lavishly decorated basement room in complete silence, watching him, with the merciless curiosity of a child observing an upturned bug struggling.

"We didn't turn you into anything other than offering you the gift. You received it knowingly, and with it, you proved that you have always been an insatiable monster waiting to be unleashed." The leader stated in clinical clarity. "What you have become has always been what you actually were but hid."

Despair clawed at Charles' insides deeper than his talon like nails ever could, making him sob, making him scream in protest, making him struggle against his restraint, but it was to no avail. His stomach had to be trying to digest itself while his head was getting drilled with horrible pangs of thirst and hunger and an unspeakable desire. When most of his fight got drained, when hopelessness truly started to sink in, he begged, "Let me go," looking at his captors with wet eyes.

The leader shook his head. "We won't unleash you upon unsuspecting people and also risk your secrecy and career, no."

"Then, let me feed, god damn you!" Charles snapped again, his rage momentarily eclipsing the torment he had been enduring. "Give me some blood bags or whatever!" He demanded as if he was in any position to do so.

"Your thirst won't be satisfied in the way you need it to function normally again unless you feed on that person you mated with." The leader explained.

"He is not my mate!" The rebuttal was knee-jerk fast.

"Oh, but he is..." Was there some sort of sick kind of glee in the leader's voice? As if he was finally having some actual fun? "He has always been... No matter how hard you have tried to deny your heart, the gift simply accentuated what you already had in there. And you have greed... Greed to have everything... Success, power, happiness... And maybe more than all that, you wanted him."

Charles was repeatedly hitting the back of his head on to the wall he was leaning against as if that was the sole thing that helped him hold onto his fragile sanity. His entire countenance had changed into that of defeat and acceptance. Even though there was still a lot of fight within him, and the masked men knew that perfectly well, he was in no state to fight, to resist, what his base nature dictated to him. He was in a bloodlust the likes of which he had never experienced before and he had done this to himself by fighting against what his heart had always been yearning for.

Max...

Even the thought of him made desire zing through him like an electric current, charring all his nerves, consuming him. The pain of it was both debilitating and also addictive in a sick, masochistic kind of way that rendered Charles powerless against it. He could do nothing but yearn and yearn and fantasize about the way how he would finally claim Max and make him surrender to him. Finally... Just for once, just for this instance... The need to feel the flesh of the other man yield under his teeth, under his power, under his desire was suffocating. The animal that he had become wanted to hurt him, make him arch under the pain of his thrist's scope. He knew Max was innocent, he knew he didn't deserve any of the twisted fantasies the monster in his mind was lusting for, but... That thing... That dark part of himself wanted Max and Max only in all the worse ways someone like him could want the object of their desires. Not like a human being... But an object... To own, to rend, to satiate his thirst and lust with... The euphoria of the thought of it made his whole body ache and teeth and cock throb. He wished he could die of shame and guilt as he literally whined and writhed on the ground for the Max in his mind's eye.

"Do you want him that much?" One of the men asked, not a hint of emotion in his flat voice.

Charles bared his teeth and a guttural warning growl rumbled in his throat.

"Because you are at your best when you are close to him."

"Fuck you, you perverts, no!" Charles barked in rage, a tear drop sliding down his cheek from the corner of his eye.

The leader sighed at him as if he was exasperated by the whims of a child he had to chaperone. "You think we actually care about how much you want to fuck him or get fucked by him?" He asked derisively. "Sex is dull, mundane." He sounded utterly bored. "It is cheap. We find no spectacle in it."

"What the fuck do you want from me, then?!" Frustration lent Charles more rage. But the answer set all the questions straight in his foggy mind.

"We want to watch your despair. Struggle. Watch how humans indulge and deny themselves. How their indulgence and denial destroy them in the end. How they try to win against themselves or lose everything in the process, including their humanity."

Disgusted, Charles recalled Seb's warnings, the warnings that he refused to heed.

"We are nothing but lab rats for them. Don't let this consume you, Charles. This is not a miraculous gift, but a curse."

"You are playing gods, aren't you?" He spat, his chest constricting in thirst, making g it hard to form words. "And we are your dolls..."

None of the masked men answered his question. They just observed.

"What are you going to do to me now? Put me down like a rabid animal now that I have lost my entertainment value?"

Even in his half delirious state, Charles could still tell the moment when the attitude of the men changed.

"You are wrong."

The leader stood up, his tall broad frame intimidating, even though he looked old. Charles suspected that these men just chose to look old, because they were anything but.

The leader unlocked Charles' chains and hauled him up onto his shaking feet in one swift motion.

Charles neither had the time to react nor he thought he could have done anything against the guy's unnatural strength even if he fought him.

The older man dragged him towards a metal door and forcefully pushed him inside. "The entertainment is only just beginning for us." There was a hint of a smile in his voice as he mercilessly shut the door on to Charles. "But I can't say the same for you."

Charles fell onto his knees in darkness and his first instinct was to drag himself back up towards the door and hit it with his fists. "Open the door! Open the fucking door, I am not an animal in a cage! Open it!" He yelled on top of his lungs, fear and desperation winning over his rage.

Just then, lights got turned on and Charles squinted at the sharp brightness, his heightened vision hurting his brain. "Fuck you! Fuck all of you! Fuck!" He was screaming uselessly as he grappled around, thinking he was put in a cell of sorts to suffer and die alone. But he wasn't.

"Be silent for a moment, Charles."

He jerked and stopped yelling at the unexpected sound of the leader coming from some speakers from the right side of the room. When he opened his eyes and looked towards there, he saw a big glass window mounted on the wall seamlessly like the ones in interrogation rooms in cop movies. Men were watching him from behind the tampered glass, sitting in that gilded room as if they were about to watch some movie.

Quickly casting aside the shock of seeing his elaborate trap, he literally launched himself at the glass panel with a wild growl, hoping he could destroy it. But it went dark in an instant and the only thing he could see was his own reflection staring back at him with crazed wet green eyes, darkened with the bloodlust and rage. His reflection mocked his last shred of sanity and his heart shattered at the way he no longer looked himself.

It hit him then. The scent...

The room went a bit dimmer and now it was easier to see. With one sense no longer hurting, another one had space to become his focus and that was the sense of smell.

He knew that scent. He feared that scent. Feared of the monster it provoked and enticed. He closed his eyes and refused to look, refused to turn around. He hugged himself as if he could hold back his own body's primeval need to leap upon the source of this most beloved and most merciless scent.

He sank to his knees back again and curled up onto himself, feeling his teeth growing even more and canines now cutting his own lip. Head swimming in the ferocity of his need to satiate his thirst and want and ordering him to get up... Get up and claim what he had been denying himself for as long as he remembered. At the cost of hurting him irrevocably and ruining him and his own self in one cruel act of desire.

There was a bed on the far side of the room and Max was tied to it.

[walkswithmyfather]

“🙏❤️❤️ HOPE ❤️❤️🙏”

“My HOPE is in the LORD always

Psalm 42:5 “Why art thou cast down, O my soul? and why art thou disquieted in me? Hope thou in God: for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance.”

This is such a beautiful verse read it and pin it to your heart

Worldly Hope…. a feeling of expectation and desire for a certain thing to happen.

Biblical hope … Biblical hope has as its foundation faith in God.

The word hope in English definition often conveys doubt.

I hope it will not rain tomorrow

I hope my results test results will be good

I hope we can get together

I hope everything will be ok

BIBLICAL HOPE is a reality and not a feeling.

BIBLICAL HOPE carries no doubt.

BIBLICAL HOPE is a sure foundation upon which we base our lives, believing that God always keeps His promises.

Hope or confident assurance can be ours when we trust the words He who believes on Me has everlasting life

John 6:47 Verily, verily, I say unto you, He that believeth on me hath everlasting life.

Accepting that gift of eternal life means our hope is no longer filled with doubt.

Hope is a small word, but it is one of the most powerful.

It is powerful because in hope lies the power of the human soul to turn to God and live as if His promises are going to come true.

Psalm 31:24 Be of good courage, and he shall strengthen your heart, all ye that hope in the Lord.

Some people when they speak of hope use it as an emotion. They say I am feeling hopeful but true hope is a discipline and a determination to believe in God’s reality and power even when the world seems to be crashing down around us.

The power of hope flies in the face of calamity, saying The world can do its worst to me but still I will hope. My hope is in the Lord. I will know that this is the day the Lord has made and He will take care of me.

The key to surviving any challenge or crisis is hope.

Hope that Jesus loves you.

Hope that He is, right now, working out a solution for you.

Hope that the future you place in His hands will be better than the present you hold in your own.

Jeremiah 29:11 For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, saith the Lord, thoughts of peace, and not of evil, to give you an expected end.

Today take a few moments and practice hope. Hope on the Lord . With its power you will overcome all things.

Isaiah 40:31. “But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.”

During the course of our day there are so many reasons to feel discouraged

When we listen to the news on tv we hear the problems in the world

When we face challenges that seem overwhelming

When we have problems that don’t seem to have solutions.

There are certainly times when we can feel hopeless.

The Bible speaks to us about these times

1 Corinthians 13:13. “And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.”

The verse above teaches us that all of us need hope.

The verse above teaches us that hope endures

No matter how dark or depressing our circumstances may appear, we always can hope in God.

God wants to give us hope in any situation, no matter how dark things might seem.

But we should not merely hope. God wants us to rejoice in hope!

Paul knew what it was like to have hope in the midst of hopeless situations. A perfect example

Acts 16:25.“And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed, and sang praises unto God: and the prisoners heard them.”

Acts 16:26. “And suddenly there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken: and immediately all the doors were opened, and every one's bands were loosed.”

See when we look to the world it certainly can provide answers but they only give short term relief.

Know we will be hopeless if we look at circumstances and let the world dictate how we think.

We may go through situations that are threatening, that can cause

Uncertainty, Anxiety, Doubt, Fear

But if we depend on God we can know that He is the source of hope, and we can rejoice in Him and the hope He promises us.

If we have hope we can be filled with joy and peace no matter what is going on in the world.

Today take a moment see the beauty surrounding you and no matter what it is you are going through do not allow yourself to place your hope in the world, the world system, or any human being in the world

Rejoice in the hope that God has given you.

Place your hope in the living God and His eternal power to save and make everything right in His time, in His way.

God is so good . Always keep your hope in the Lord . He goes before you and is always with you. He will see you through everything you go through.”

From: “Beneath The Shadow Of Thy Wings” (FB)

[sgt-morgan]

Robin Bites Back 🖤

Summary: Meet the Robinsons but with Fuck words and Vigilantes. You’re gonna love it.

Warnings: AFAB and female identifying reader, Mentions of g!ns, Cannon typical violence, crude language, probably blasphemy, illusions to sexy times, Matt’s dangerously beautiful ass, Deadpool. You get the drill.

A/N: here’s hoping tomorrow we have a little more Matt in our lives. If not imma blow a goddamn gasket.

Pt. 1 Guessing Game.

Pt. 3 The Test

DD Masterlist

Matt knew you finding out about his being Daredevil could only cause trouble. There was no other way around it. You knowing had been trouble of the highest order, and you find newer, weirder, ways to prove it every day. Trouble of the highest order. Your jokes only got worse and more frequent, but when you meet all his vigilante friends, putting them in their place seemed to be your new favorite pastime. You first proved it with Spider-Man.

Stumbling in at four AM should mean waking you, but for some reason, you were awake. If he had to guess, you were reading over court documents that he told you needed reading three months ago, and you were just now reading them, but that didn’t matter. Matt could smell the sleep on your skin, the melatonin your body was producing changing your normal functions just enough to give him a sense of your sheer exhaustion. your tiny cold shivers even though the apartment was fairly warm, your tear stained cheeks from yawning, your glacial typing speed, the signs radiated from where you sat. You smelled of him, his shampoo and body wash, his shirt he wore to laze around the apartment yesterday, your deodorant and perfume that you always insisted on wearing at all times, it screamed of comfort, a radiating beacon of calm nestled into his couch and all he wanted to do was bury himself in it. Instead, he carried with him a half dead Spider-Man and an open wound you were gonna probably need to stitch. They had just finished stopping a robbery at a butcher in the seedy end of Hell’s Kitchen, but they hadn’t managed to catch the bad guy, who was insanely good with a knife. He roughed them up pretty bad, and this is how they appeared to you after that fight.

“Well holy shit!” You cried out when you noticed them, clutching your chest, shocked. Your heart rate had skyrocketed, you were blushing, and your blanket had fallen to the ground. So, if Matt knew you like he thought, It wasn’t the fact that he was injured, or that Spider-Man was injured either he presumed, it was probably because you were- “I’m like… half naked, so if your little vigilante buddy doesn’t have your same proclivities, I’m gonna put on pants and brb.”

“I’m sorry!” Peter groaned and smacked a hand over his eyes. Matt dropped him on the couch and flung his mask in the general direction of his trunk.

“Don’t apologize, Matt is always-“ you paused, registering Peter’s tone of voice, his countenance that you hadn’t really picked up on before. “Oh my god. Matthew Michael Murdock, is that a fucking child?” Matt cringed and he could feel Peter do the same.

“Uh… no?” Matt tried, knowing that there would be no way to fool you into belief that Peter was a big boy superhero, who could lift a truck with ease if he wanted, now to you he was a tiny little baby who you would attempt to adopt like a stray cat.

“You’re a shit liar, and your whole life depends on it.” She grumbled grumpily, and Matt smiled even though he should be irritated. He was in fact, not a shit liar, you were just really good at reading him, and it gave him some sort of warm fuzzy feeling in his chest.

“No ma’am, he’s not lying! I just turned 18!” Peter tried to butt in helpfully, but he really was only making it worse. You groaned and Matt winced.

“This is so wrong. You, spider boy, take your hand off your face, you’re bleeding there and we got no idea where your hands have been.” You barked, pulling a first aid kit from under your sink and marching to the couch. “Move sexy, you’re next.” You said smacking his ass and making Peter giggle. He rolled his sightless eyes again, and went to the bedroom looking to shower and change while you sorted out first aid and clothing for Peter, he was starting to realize that you were totally gonna adopt the kid, and he wasn’t ready to be a vigilante father. A shower would help him organize a strategy to get you to back off, but he also forgets that you’re a lawyer too. Should have given up while he was ahead. By the time he got out, Peter had his head in your lap and was laughing through a wince as you stitched up a cut near his hairline.

“So, you recognized him bec-“ he was cut off by you snipping the last of the thread and gesticulating wildly.

“Listen kid, that ass don’t quit! Wether it’s jeans, a dress suit, the devil suit, the black suit, the new one, and god help me if he’s in his stupid silk boxers, it’s like a homing beacon. Round, perfect, and don’t get me started on his thi-“

“Baby! He’s 18!” Matt blushed and Peter only laughed harder.

“Yeah, and I’m teaching art history, Martholomew! High schoolers are all about that shit!” You tapped twice gently on the table, giving him your little winking signal to tell him you’re joking, it instantly made him smile. Everyone has a gift, yours just so happens to be cutting tension.

When you were in court, that smart mouth and keen wit of yours was a killer weapon, often winning you many a case, but when you used it to talk people out of their gloom, it was a beautiful bloom of spring, and Matt was thrilled to be the one that got to hear your musings on a regular basis. You made the smallest of phrases poetry, the finest of details something so titular to a sentence he forgets exactly where your point began and his ended. You were a true wordsmith. He loved it even more when you became a real comedian with those talents, only you having the ability to pull from him such belly laughs that left him in tears for hours from just one off handed joke you barely thought about. Your mind fascinated him, and he hoped to spend his whole life exploring its depths. Right now though? Right now he needed you to stop telling the boy wonder about how hot his thighs were.

“Our father in heaven woman-“ Matt grumbled and you gasped.

“Mattnelius!” You smacked a hand over your moth and chest. “That sounded very close to Blasphemy! And with a child present! You should be ashamed! I’m so sorry for his behavior Peter! Go shower, I’ll find you clothes.” You patted his arm and shooed him from your lap.

“No it’s okay, I’ll ju-“

“Baby we can’t-“

“Boys, I swear to fucking god if you don’t do what I tell you right now I’ll call Foggy, and that girlfriend of yours!” Matt and Peter both straightened up immediately. Peter rushed to the bathroom with a squeaked ‘Yes ma’am!’ and Matt sat next to you with his wound exposed. He sat in silence as you stitched his cut closed, fidgeting with his fingers.

“Honey, he’s not a cat we can’t just-“

“Mathew Michael Murdock, if you say I can’t keep Peter I will go work for Landman and Zach so fast it’ll make your head spin. Now, go get the extra sheets and pillow for the couch while I find the kid some clothes. That’s an order Batman, before Robin goes Jason Fuckin Todd.” You snapped and kissed his cheek aggressively.

“Yes dear.”

The next person you met was Frank Castle, and it was… something. Matt can confidently say that this one was the meeting he was most dreading, it wasn’t like their meeting was ever a good thing, so why would he expect him meeting you would go any better.

Frank was in town hunting down a terrible criminal, Matt knew that. Matt also knew that when Frank hunts somebody down, it’s usually quite explosive. What he didn’t expect, was for his mark to be your client. That client so happens to be the Butcher who’s shop he and Spider-Man stopped someone from robbing. Now that he thinks about it, it was probably Frank. Which means that Butcher probably wanted to eat your liver with a side of Fava beans and a nice Chianti. Yuck. He heard over the police scanner that shots had been fired in the vicinity of the offices of Nelson, Paige, and Murdock as he was out patrolling, and he remembered you saying earlier that you needed to sign and print some paperwork to get back to the judge on your current case. So when a description approximating Frank Castle then came through over the scanner, he booked it to the office. He vaulted in through the window, and there was your client, unconscious in your office, with a bullet wound. Matt would have expected you to be shook up about the whole thing, but instead he heard a shouting match go down.

“No you asshole, I didn’t know he is a fucking serial killer! I’m not omnipotent! Why don’t YOU tell ME what the fuck is going on, because APPARENTLY you LOVE playing God! I mean seriously Castle, what in the name of John Wayne do you think you’re doing? This isn’t the Good the Bad and the goddamn Ugly! You can’t just judge, jury, executioner someone in my goddamn office! Now there’s a fucking bloodstain on my rug, and I’m gonna have to talk to cops! I’m a lawyer and I’m dating a Vigilante Frank, I fuckin hate cops!” Frank’s heart was thudding at an unnatural pace, and he was rooted in place. He was terrified of his tiny girlfriend, and honestly it was hysterical. He couldn’t help but giggle.

“What the fuck Red?” He growled out as Matt stepped over to the unconscious man and proceeded to stop the blood flow so the man didn’t actually bleed out. “Why did you let your girl take him on as a client, are you fucking insane?”

“No, Castle we didn’t kn-“

“IM FUCKING SORRY? Did you just call Matt crazy? Didn’t you shoot him in the fucking head when you first met him?” She fumed and there was an electrical zapping sound, and he felt Frank flinch away from youu. That’s when he noticed that the burnt flesh smell wasn’t coming from the Serial killer, it was coming from-

“I’m sorry, but baby, did you tase Frank!?” He laughed.

“Yeah, that’s why the fucking riddler here isn’t dead!” You huffed, kicking the now groaning criminal in the head to knock him back out. “I don’t have the time to fill out the goddam paperwork! Now take your buddy Deadshot here, and get the hell out.” You grumble and pick up your phone.

“What are you doing?” Matt tilted his head as you dialed 911.

“Calling the cops Mathew, if I don’t, it’ll look suspicious, and I don’t really want to go in for questioning for my involvement in the murder of an ex client!” You growled, throwing a stapler at Frank that he caught with ease and placed on a filing cabinet.

“Ok Castle, let’s go” Matt grabbed his arm and forced him up the fire escape to the roof of the building.

“No fucking way, I’m going back and-“ He started, but you had just hung up the phone.

“If you don’t get out now, I’ll hand you to the police my godDAMN self, and I’ll make sure I tase you unconscious if I have to lock DD in a closet to do it!” She half shouted, Matt couldn’t see it, but he just knew Frank stood there and glared menacingly. Or well, he did until you flashed your taser at him again.

“FUCK! FINE!” He flinched, crawling out the window.

“Have I told you I love you lately?” Matt grinned, pulling you to him with a sweet kiss.

“No, in fact, you have not.” She huffed and pushed him towards the window. You didn’t have to have super senses to hear the cops pounding up the stairs to your floor. “You owe me Batman, now get out.”

Matt meandered his way to the roof, where Frank was still mumbling and pacing watching his target being loaded into an ambulance while handcuffed to the stretcher.

“Now he’s gonna get a cushy fucking hospital stay, when he could be dead.” Frank grumbled, swiping a hand down his face. “I’ll tell you what though, that old lady of yours? She’s…”

“A keeper? Crazy? Super hot? Yeah,” Matt nodded, crouching on a ledge to hear you and the officers better. You were fake crying, he grinned, you were amazing. “I know.”

“Yeah, that. Seriously though, that taser hurt like a bitch. She’s wild.” He shook his head with a chuckle. “Real set of balls your girl. Tell her I said thanks, and if she gets in my way again I’ll-“

“You’ll what, get tased again? Because sure as fuck aren’t killing me!” She laughed from behind them and Frank flinched. “Now get the hell off my roof, do you need first aid?” When he shook his head no, she reached in her pocket and pulled out a gun.

“It was under my desk, be glad I saw it before they came in. I swear to God Murdock, if you say anything you’re sleeping on the couch.” She grumbled and stomped downstairs.

“Jesus red, she’s a-“

“Goodbye Frank!” Matt laughed, rushing towards a robbery happening two miles away.

Two weeks later had been kidnapped by vampires, and it had everything to do with, you guessed it, that serial killer cannibal you got arrested. Yes, Vampires, Matt could hardly fathom that outcome, let alone take on an army of the undead with just his blind ass and a 17 year old. So, Spider-Man called in the troops. Since everyone loved Peter, and everyone was curious about the woman who tased Frank Castle and lived to tell the tale, they all decided to be helpful without being dicks and Matt was truly grateful. He forgot though, that just because they behaved didn’t mean you would.

You were honestly ok, sure, you were surrounded by a bunch of people calling themselves the hand, there were fucking Vampires apparently, and they kept referring to Matt’s super hot and tragic dead ex girlfriend, but you could handle all that. What you couldn’t handle, was that you had to be in court to plead a very big fucking case that could actually earn you money, and you’re stuck HERE! Damn it all to hell, you told Mathew that the vigilante shit was fine if it didn’t fuck with your day job and now here you were, letting it fuck with YOUR day job. What a bummer. Then came the drugs.

Your mouth can only get you out of so much, and unfortunately, these ninjas were entirely unwilling to speak to the Deposition before risking your drug tests for work. At least they were fun drugs! Clearly, they were going to try and knock you out, but your lovely boyfriends buddies reached you before you got enough in your system to make you pass out. So, instead, you were subjected to very vivid and colorful fight sequences, like your brain was trying to put you in a Tarantino film without all the feet. It was Moonknight who removed the IV, and once he did, he was immediately shot three times, but instead of dying bloodied and broken in your lap like you thought he would, he got back up and kept fighting, the bullets falling to the ground as he went. He kept swirling and smashing heads, ridding the room you were in of Vampires and attempting to free you in the meantime, in moments of downtime you got to introduce yourself a bit.

“Shit dude, you’re like… invincible. DD, has gotta learn that one.” You laughed.

Moonknight cocked his head in your direction and you smiled with a nod. “Sorry I haven’t got you free yet hermosa! Little busy, but when I free up you’re Prioridad número uno!”

“Spanish? Cool, and no worries MoonBoy you keep doing the thing, I can wait. I’m not helpful at the moment anyway, can’t stand and WOAH! You can pull a knife from your chest!? Badass! Devilman needs to know the name of your suit guy.” You gasp as he pulls moondarts from the suit and starts slashing.

“Bueno, yeah, you’re definitely la novia then. My suit guy is an Egyptian god so I’m not thinking he’d like that Hermosa.” He winked and you laughed.

“Ooh cool, so you’re a pagan then? I can dig it.” You nod sagely, though with all the drugs, it doesn’t look it. Jake thinks you look more like a broken bobble head. He can’t help but appreciate the fact you’re not freaking out though, that was impressive.

“No, actually I’m Jewish, or well, Marc is Jewish.” He shrugs, “Same body different people.” He has no goddamn idea why he told you that but your mouth forms an ‘o’ like you get it perfectly and you smile. All the while, Jake is still killing vampires left and right while chaos reigns around them.

“Like the movie with James McAvoy uh… SPLINTER! That’s right, splinter. NO WAIT! SPLIT!” You proclaim with a snap of your fingers. “No wait, that’s probably offensive, that guy in that movie was an asshole. You seem chill. The idea is still there though, multiple people, one brain. Very fun.”

“Si, ¡Exactamente! Damn, nobody has ever gotten it that quick.” He muttered and Steven took over the body, having cleared an opening to get you out of the fray or handed off to the next person.

“Right darling! Let’s get you out that chair here-“ He cut your bonds easily and heaved you to your feet and instantly you almost face planted. “Shite, sorry!” Steven hissed balancing you again, “forgot about the whole being drugged thing!”

“New accent! This must be personality two, Hi personality two!” You smiled and patted his shoulder, missing the first pat but landing the second.

“Yes, it’s Steven, and you just spoke with Jake. Nice to meet you too dear.” He chuckled, throwing you over his shoulder and sprinting towards the stairs. He made it all the way there, slashing and punching and kicking as he went, before he had to set you on the steps to continue smashing heads.

“Sorry sugar, gotta go!” Marc plopped you on the stairs and turned to keep killing vampires.

“That’s ok third person I’m pretty sure is named Marc, I can crawl.” Marc was astounded to see you start taking the stairs on all fours, wandering towards the next vigilante that would inevitably pick you up and move you down the line. Daredevil said you were tough, but knowing and following an abstract objective while stoned wasn’t exactly what he was expecting.

“Goodbye I guess, don’t die.” Marc grumbled and nailed a vampire between the eyes with a moon dart making a wet thud as it struck home.

You, still off your ass on whatever they gave you, crawled slowly up the stairs. You flinched as bodies flew past your head and made sickening thuds on the stairs. “Oof, that had to hurt.” You muttered as one dude hit a railing hard enough to break his spine. Then, two doc martens thudded into your line of site and you looked up, very nervous. “Please don’t be a villain, please don’t be a villain, please don’t be a villain…” you slowly follow the length of the legs and are relieved to see, “Jessica Jones!”

“Hello.” She smirked, and reached down with one hand, snatching you up by the collar and setting you on your feet. “You look like hell, I know all about that.”

“Hey Jess- wow you’re strong as fuck, kinda hot!- please don’t wait no-“ she let go and your knees buckled, you started to fall and you felt a hand reach out and hold you up. You looked to see that that hand belonged to Luke Cage and his other hand was lashing out to throw a vampire over the rails of the platform you were on. “Sorry! I got drugged and I’m not so ready to use my legs yet.” You sighed flopping your head down to stare at your useless, traitorous, appendages.

“S’fine.” Luke said, shoving you away from the fray so you just flop into Jessica’s waiting arms again.

“Horn head said you were chill, but not freakin out while we all fight vampires and you’re on drugs… that’s pretty badass.” Jessica mutters, quickly shoving you back to Luke as she throws a wooden board through a man’s chest. You spark with pride at her compliment. Jessica Jones, super powered PI is impressed by your level headedness. Sick.

“Thanks Jones, your pretty cool yourself. ON YOUR SIX!” You yell and Jessica tosses you to Luke, taking out the scary vampire that almost chewed her face off.

“Thanks for looking out.” Luke grunts catching you under one arms and smoothly pushing you to sit on the wall behind him.

“No worries Mr. Cage!” You mumble. He throws the last two vampires in his way over the rails and then sits next to you to watch Jessica work.

“We’re past formalities, call me Luke.” He stretched his hand out and you just stared at it, limbs still numb. You feel like Westley after Miracle Max brought him back from being mostly dead. It was exhausting.

“God, sorry, I would? But it’s not gonna work right now.” You sigh, Luke nods and puts his hand down, staring at Jess once again. “God, you look like a love sick puppy. You good there?” You flop your head in his direction and he nods.

“Yeah, I just. You guys make it work, why can’t we?” He shakes his head and gestures at Jess and you are bamboozled. Really? Relationship troubles? You’re fighting Vampires, this is life or goddamn death here, the Dr.Phil shit can wait…. Then you think, you know what? Fuck it. You kinda get it. There’s something about an apocalypse that makes people question their lives.

“Can I be honest?” You’re not slurring every other word now, so it must be wearing off. “Matt and I work because we communicate. Now, if I understand Jessica like I think I do from Matt’s stories of her, she is like trying to talk to an errupting volcano. Explosive, hot, and rapidly cooling to immovable rock. You gotta figure out how to be volcano proof. That seems like an impossible task, believe me, I get it. Getting Matt to communicate was like trying to get a camel through the eye of a needle. Hah, bible reference, I gotta remember to tell that one to Foggy. Sorry, not helpful. All this to say, I learned that it’s not hard to pass a camel through the needle, if you make it big and obvious, and unable to over look. It works even better if there’s an oasis on the other side, if you catch my drift, but it’s not impossible, just incredibly inconvenient.” You then pat Luke’s shoulder and nod him back over to his lady love, who was kicking major ass.

Luke processed your words with a nod, honestly? The advice wasn’t bad, it was weird, but accurate. Maybe Matt’s crazy girlfriend was right. Eye of a needle? He could work with that. Then he decided to help Jess before she shoved the needle up his ass for leaving her stranded.

You continued to crawl your way through the chaos, watching the various vigilantes do their various duties around you. The next run in was with Danny Rand. You could tell he was annoying from the jump.

“Hello, can I help?” Danny reached out his glowing fist and punched a vampire through a wall (which was cool), then hoisted you to your feet. “I’m Danny Rand, The Immortal Iron Fist, defender of K’un-Lun, Master of-“ Then you shoved him out of the way of a vampire who wanted to cut his speech super short by putting him in an early grave.

You groaned, “Jesus that was close, you’re mouthy, no offense, I am too. Can I be honest? I’m on a lot of drugs, we’re in a life or death battle with magic vampires, and it’s hard to concentrate when you keep saying shit nobody understands. Learn to shut the hell up. Cool glow hand though, you seem nice. Promise I’ll be less of a bitch when we meet again.” You promptly reached your hands above your head in a grabby motion and let Peter swing you to a balcony nobody could access, you let him set you up with his backpack, which apparently had water in it, and you sat and waited for the battle to be over.

You watched the various hero’s fight, and you were honestly impressed. Now out of harms way, you could truly appreciate how fucking cool your boyfriend was. All the people around him had crazy super powers. A dude who can’t die, a kid that can climb walls, two people with super human strength, and a guy that had a magic glow stick for a fist. All those powers, and your boyfriend still chose to go kick as much ass, if not more, than they were. It was kinda hot, no, let’s be honest. It was very hot. Eventually everyone stopped fighting, Vampires dispatched, regular humans headed to jail, etc. you watched as Matt visibly began to tense again, the panic hitting when he remembered he hadn’t talked to you yet.

“I’m up here baby.” You muttered, rolling your eyes at your lack of ability to help, tapping the metal railing to give him an accurate location. Then he began scaling shelves and running towards you at top speed. “Hey, I’m drugged up, I can’t move. I’m totally numb.” You huff. “It’s ok though, it’s working it’s way out of me but I got no idea what it is.” He bundles you into his arms, and you breath him in, leather and cinnamon, your favorite.

“Oh thank god.” He grumbles burying his face in your hair as you finally manage to flop your arms around his neck. He stood and slung you onto his back, climbing down to where all the other vigilantes stood below you waiting on Matt. “Sweetheart did you meet-“

“Yup! Moonman, not a pagan, is secretly three people, can’t die.” You began pointing them out in turn, “Jess, PI, super strength, super hot. Luke, Bar owner, super strength, needs to work out his love issues. One punch man, glow hand, talks too much. Spidey, my baby, stray cat energy.” You nodded, drug induced loose lips be damned, you were proud of yourself. The vigilantes giggled at their descriptions in turn, even Danny found humor in your little rant. “Did I get em all?”

“Yeah baby, that’s everyone.” Matt laughed, kissing your head and giggling into your hair.

“She still hasn’t met Deadpool!” Danny shrugged, and Matt went rigid.

“Iron Fist, you gotta learn to keep your trap shut.” Matt mumbled.

“Oh god, them in a room would be torture.” Jess groaned.

“I don’t know, I quite like the idea. Sounds like a gas.” Steven shrugged in the Mr. knight suit.

“Sorry DD.” Danny grumbled.

“Oh, He has to meet Robin DD.” Spider-Man chuckled.

“Robin?” Jessica questions, looking at Spider-Man with one unwavering raised brow.

“We call her Robin, because the first time she met DD and figured out his identity, she told him that if she had known sooner she could have been the Robin to his Batman.” Peter grinned and looked at the still giggling couple that was attempting to patch each other’s wounds while denying they needed help, you know, like self righteous vigilantes.

“Ah,‘that’s adorable.” Steven muttered, tying up hostages and making sure their undead friends were gonna stay down this time.

“Yeah, it’s pretty sweet.” Luke nodded, helping Danny drag a mountain of a man to a corner while Jessica and Peter catalogued all of the chemical materials and evidence they could with their Cameras.

“She said I was mouthy.” Danny pouted, and all of the other hero’s in the room dissolved into laughter.

You two were lightly bickering back and fourth as they continued with cleanup and waited for their hostage to wake for interigation.

“DD, I’m fine.” you groan again as he feels at the wounds on your hand and forehead. He knows what you’re saying, but he can’t help but take in your racing heartbeat, the slight stench of fear, the terror trembling off you in waves. You put up a great front, and in the heat of the moment you’re a force to be reckoned with, but now that it’s all over, Matt can tell that leaving you alone while he does his duties to the city would be a grave mistake.

“I know! I know. I’m just-“ he fretted and you cut him off, but subtly clutch his hand tighter.

“You’re just full of nervous energy and ready to beat that guy you need answers from to a pulp. I get it. Go.” You roll your eyes fondly and stand, Matt holding out his arms to catch you as if you were a three year old just learning to walk, and you wobble immediately sinking back to the ground and leaning against the wall. The drugs haven’t fully left your system, it’s clearing up, but it’s not gone yet.

“No. Not while you’re injured, it will have to wait till Peter or Jess can take you ho-“ then his whole body tensed and his nose scrunched as if something just hit his senses with a crowbar and a man in a red and black morph suit—No shock there—with two Katanas and a gun busts into the now relatively calm warehouse.

“Alright! Who do I gotta kill. Point me in the way of Nosferatu, Daddy has some silver bullets and a deer park bottle of holy water, and I’m ready to interview with a vampire this bitch!” He stands, one katana and a bottle of water with a crudely drawn cross on it raised in presentation, at the entrance to the warehouse. When he comes in, He is the most absurd thing you’ve seen all evening, and there’s a guy with a glowing fist in the building. You all pause for a moment just staring at this absurd display of ineptitude, but Matt senses Deadpool assessing the situation, taking it all in, and Matt senses him shift his attention to you, and his muscles relax a bit and a grin stretched the terrible deformed muscle at his mouth, causing his skin to creak. Then, as Matt suspected, you are instantly thrown into fits of giggles. Your in full blown belly laughs, he can hear the way you struggle to breathe through your laughter, senses your abdominal muscles contracting, he can smell the salt of your tears as they run down your face, and for a moment he forgives the lunacy of Wade Wilson, and appreciates just how wonderful it is to hear the sweet sound of your laughter. He is thankful for the subtle loss of tension in your shoulders that Wade has so easily caused, just by being him. Then he smells old enchiladas, stale blood, and gunpowder and is reminded all over again why it is he avoids Deadpool at all costs. He’s an assault on the senses, and he’s a dumbass. If that weren’t reason enough, the man is hardly ever on the right side of the law, or decency, and to top it all off, he’s really fucking annoying. However, in this moment, Wade is sending clear signals that he is ready and willing to be his ally. Maybe Matt would need to rethink his stance on the Mirk with a Mouth.

“Fuck me, I haven’t laughed that hard in a while, and I just met a guy whose superpower is that he punches real good with just one fist.” You giggle into Matt’s ear and he can’t help but chuckle a bit as well, using this as an excuse to bury his nose in your hair, attempting to cover up the stench of Deadpool’s disgusting suit. “Who the hell are you, and how do we become friends? Also, they fuck the vampires in interview with a vampire, they don’t kill them. You’re thinking of Abraham Lincoln Vampire Hunter.” You laugh brightly and thrust you’d hand out to be shaken. Matt resists the urge to smack that hand away from the bacteria infested glove, but is genuinely thrilled to hear the rustle of a glove being pulled from a hand as Deadpool receives your handshake.

“Well that’s easy pretty lady, you don’t fuck with me and I, won’t fuck with you. So are you the crazy bitch who tased Frank Castle or is DD here in for a few million Hail Marys?” Matt is baffled. Honestly, he is. Deadpool came in ready for a fight, and in a need for ardent chaos, and he was actually startled at how collected and calm he was in bantering back and forth with you. Totally at his ease in the steady, witty banter. It’s like you had stopped him in his tracks. Matt kept a close ear on your conversation as he began to help the rest of the group.

“So does he wear the horns when you do the deed, or do they only come out for birthdays and anniversaries?” Deadpool sits cross legged beside you, which is when Wade silently shoos him away. Why should he deal with all the boring stuff when there was a beautiful and interesting woman he could be talking to.

“Oh Mr.Pool, a lady never sucks and tells, but that Mask is pretty hot. The suit does nothing for his ass though.” You scrunch your nose and shake your head, and Wade snorts a laugh while Matt walks away to go deal with the rest of the group.

“He got a nice ass under all that pleather?” Wade huffs.

“Like you wouldn’t BELIEVE man. He’s honestly the sexiest man I know.” Matt shakes his head at your ardent praise with a big silly grin, and Jess bumps her shoulder with his with a breathy chuckle, handing him an unknown chemical for him to identify.

“Well, you’re in the company of absolute beauty now, you wouldn’t even believe how hot I am under here.” Matt can hear Spider-Man chuckling now and shaking his head, and he hears Moonknight mumble about what a lie that was.

“Oh really? Well, secret identities be damned, let’s get a peek at that face huh?” You laugh, and Matt hears the rustling of Fabric as Wade pulls off his mask. He can hear Danny hiss and feel Luke cringe as Wade’s face is revealed. He notes with pride that you never flinch.

“Oh god, Ha! You look like an Orc’s terrible premature love child with the corpse of Ryan Reynolds.” You laugh for a second, then stop when you realize Wade is staring at you slack jawed. “Oh! I’m sorry was that rud-“ you begin to fret, but Wade cyst you off with a boisterous laugh of his own.

“That is the funniest shit I’ve heard all day.”

You and Wade kept up the conversation, while the others began to clean up and categorize evidence. When it came to Vampires and the supernatural, the police were no help so the whole of Justice squarely rests on those who had the power to handle it. They were all biding their time and waiting on their hostage, they had officially gotten everything squared away, Spider-Man had called SHEILD to dispose of the Vampires, and now they sat in comfortable conversation, waiting for backup. When Matt began to hear their hostage stir, he alerted the others, and then they Started bickering over who should do what. It was getting pretty heated until you spoke with a finality that meant business.

“No! Webs can take me home, Moonknight and DD can handle the interrogation, Deadpool and Iron Fist can wipe out any stragglers (because I’m pretty sure some of them are playing dead.), Jess and Luke can handle shield, and then the spiderling can swing back here to help you finish the mission.” Your instructions were met with whining and protest (except for Matt, who knew better than to argue when you meant business), but you weren’t having it. “Oh! I’m fucking sorry, did I ask for all the whining? Or are you all a big group of superpower wielding toddlers!?” You snapped and everyone looked either impressed or properly chastened.

“No you’re right.”

“I guess we can-”

“I’ll get to use my holy water after all!” Came the murmur of replies.

“Good, now hop to it. Take me home spider boy!” You reach your arms out to Peter and he swings you up and out of the building leaving the rest of the hero’s to their own devices. About forty five minutes later, Peter comes back as they plan out what to do about the rest of the vampire problem, and what next steps need to be taken to solve it. All in all, it takes about two hours for Matt to make his way back to you, and when he does, you’re fast asleep. The shield agents reassured him that you just needed to sleep off whatever they gave you, and his other vigilante associates all complimented him on having an amazing girlfriend. His chest was swelling with Pride over how well you took things, and how much they admired you. You truly were an amazing woman.

You were sleeping so peacefully, Matt almost elected to take the couch so he wouldn’t risk waking you. He changed, and decided you would be more mad if he didn’t come to bed. He slips in next to you and preens when you wrap an arm around his waist and sling a leg over his hips. He nuzzles into your hair and cuddles you close, grinning at how wonderful you are to be lying there next to him. “Hi Angel, you ok?”

“Yeah Matty, ‘m fine. Just sleepy s’all.” You yawn so hard your eyes water, and Matt ‘awes’ placing a soft kiss to your crown.

“Well I’d say so, it’s not easy being Robin.” He huffs a laugh and you kiss him just below his collar bone.

“Oh yeah, I’m tough shit, might just graduate to Nightwing.” You mumble.

“Sure, sweetheart, whatever you want.” Then you mumble something into his chest he doesn’t quite catch, and he asks you to repeat yourself.

“Nah, I’ll stay Robin, I could never ditch my Batman, I love him too much.” Matt’s heart swells to bursting and he almost tears up at the weirdly sweet sentiment.

“I love you too Robin, I love you too.”