#❝ be the sun as my witness ❞ → ooc; answered

[aseaunsettled]

tag dump

[solitudesandsymphonies]

tag dump.

[juniperwoodwell]

Exhausted

Welcome to the first post of my Keanuverse writings! This was a request from @scarlettspectra! I gave myself the goal of 1k words for each character since I'm still learning how to write for them(which I achieved), it's not my best work but I had a ton of fun writing! I hope you enjoy!

Pairing(s): Neo (Thomas Anderson) x F!Reader. Aged up!Ted Theodore Logan x F!Reader. Tom Ludlow x F!Reader

Word count: 3,383k

WARNINGS: use of Y/n, Cursing, suggestive flirting, fluff, a bit of angst, minor references to death, aged up Ted (18-19), most likey OOC for all three.

Notices: For Tom's story it is written in first person. Not sure if they even count as fluff. And I'm not sure why all of them end with sleep... I'm just that exhausted I guess.

-

"Neo" Thomas Anderson.

“Where’s Y/n?” Neo’s voice cut through the hum of conversation in the rec room of their ship. Trinity's shrug was almost imperceptible, but Neo caught it.

“Where do you think?” She didn’t need to elaborate; they all knew Y/n's penchant for losing herself in her work. Neo nodded, understanding, and made his way to find her.

Y/n lay in a chair, her brow smoothed out in sleep, her breaths soft and even. Neo stood beside her, the dim lights casting shadows across her face. He reached out, his fingers brushing against the strands of her hair, a stark contrast to the constant chaos of their reality.

“What does she even do there?” Neo asked Morpheus, who had been waiting nearby.

The older man’s laugh rumbled low. “Whatever she wants. It’s her construct, her rules.”

Neo observed her for a moment longer before making his decision. “Want to join her?” Morpheus asked, knowing the answer already.

When Neo entered Y/n's construct, he was greeted by a world unlike anything he had seen in the Matrix. Towering skyscrapers were replaced by lush trees, the cacophony of the city silenced by the gentle rustle of leaves and the distant chirping of birds.

“Neo, what a surprise.” Y/n's voice reached him before he spotted her, nestled beneath a tree, bathed in the warm glow of simulated sunlight. He approached, the soft grass yielding beneath his boots. She patted the spot beside her, and Neo couldn't refuse. As he settled next to her, Y/n leaned against him, their connection tangible in the serene stillness.

“What are you working on?” Neo gestured towards the notebook nestled in her lap, his eyes lingering on the sketches and notes scrawled within its pages.

“Her,” Y/n replied softly, nodding towards a figure seated at a nearby picnic table, engrossed in a book.

“Your mother?” Neo asked, understanding dawning in his eyes.

Y/n nodded, her gaze distant. “Trying to capture her essence, her spirit. It’s proving more challenging than I anticipated.”

Neo pulled her closer, a silent understanding passing between them. He admired her resilience, her determination to resurrect a piece of her past.

“Tell me what you've achieved,” Neo encouraged, eager to share in her triumphs.

“Well, her physical appearance is mostly accurate, but...” Y/n trailed off, a shadow crossing her features. “But her presence, her aura... that’s proving elusive.”

Neo listened, his heart aching for her. Despite their reality, Y/n persisted in her quest for connection, for closure.

“I feel like I'm at my wit's end,” Y/n admitted, her frustration palpable.

Neo stood, offering his hand. “Let's walk,” he suggested, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Hand in hand, they wandered through the idyllic landscape, the sun casting long shadows across the grass.

“Wits end, huh?” Neo teased gently, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

Y/n rolled her eyes, her laughter echoing in the tranquil surroundings. “A bit dramatic, I suppose.”

As they walked, Neo couldn’t help but admire Y/n's simplicity, her authenticity in a world built on deceit.

“What made you finally decide to join me?” Y/n asked, breaking the comfortable silence between them.

Neo glanced down at her, his gaze softening. “Curiosity, I suppose. And maybe a bit of... admiration.”

They paused, the world around them shimmering with an ethereal beauty. Neo pulled Y/n close, her warmth seeping into his bones.

As their lips drew near, a jarring ring cut through the peaceful scene. Reality beckoned, but for a moment longer, they lingered in their shared sanctuary.

A few hours after departing the simulation, Y/n navigated the ship's corridor, her steps weary but determined. As she reached her room, she found Neo leaning casually against the doorframe, his presence both comforting and electrifying. “Neo…” she breathed his name, a mixture of longing and anticipation hanging in the air. “Got a moment?” he asked, his voice a low murmur in the dimly lit hallway. She nodded, her resolve wavering in the face of his magnetic pull. “For you? Always,” she replied, her voice a whisper carried on the currents of their shared reality.

Once inside her quarters, Y/n settled onto her bed, the weight of the day settling around her like a heavy shroud. Neo joined her, his presence a grounding force amidst the chaos of their world.

As she removed her shoes, his eyes traced her movements, a silent acknowledgment of the strength she carried within her. When she turned to face him, his touch was urgent, his lips meeting hers with a fierce intensity that ignited a fire within her soul.

In that fleeting moment, time seemed to stand still, the boundaries of their reality blurring as they became lost in the ecstasy of their connection. It was a sanctuary, a brief respite from the trials that awaited them beyond the confines of their shared embrace.

As they pulled away, breathless and exhilarated, Y/n's heart soared, her desire for him consuming her entirely. Neo's laughter echoed in the quiet of the room as he trailed kisses along her jaw, his touch a balm to her restless soul.

Reluctantly, he pulled away, a hint of regret in his eyes. Y/n protested, her need for him palpable in the air between them. “If we continue, you'll never rest,” he cautioned, his voice a gentle reminder of the responsibilities that awaited them.

Y/n met his gaze with defiance, her determination unwavering in the face of his gentle admonishment. “That's not for you to decide,” she countered, her voice a whisper against the backdrop of their shared intimacy.

Neo's smirk was both infuriating and endearing as he regarded her, his gaze lingering on her with a mixture of admiration and desire. “Very well,” he conceded, his fingers trailing along her cheek. “Let's rest, for now.”

Y/n smiled, her eyes alight with mischief as she draped her arms around his neck. “Agreed,” she murmured, pulling him close for one final kiss before surrendering to the call of sleep.

As Neo guided her beneath the covers, Y/n felt a sense of peace wash over her, his touch a soothing balm against the chaos of their days. “Will you stay?” she asked, her voice a soft plea in the darkness.

Neo nodded, his gaze unwavering as he ran his fingers along her back. “Of course,” he replied, his voice a whisper against the silence of the night.

As Y/n drifted into sleep, Neo remained by her side, his presence a steadfast reminder of the love they shared amidst the tumult of their existence. In the warmth of their embrace, they found solace, a sanctuary amidst the storm.

And as the world faded into darkness, they surrendered to the sweet embrace of sleep, their dreams intertwined in the tapestry of their shared existence.

Ted Theodore Logan

-

Ted’s joyful greeting interrupted Y/n’s intense focus, her eyes reluctantly leaving the dense textbook pages. With a weary smile, she raised her gaze to meet his, her exhaustion evident.

"How’s it going, babe!" Ted’s tone brimmed with joy as he slid into the seat beside her, his presence a welcome distraction.

Y/n couldn’t help but smile at his infectious enthusiasm, though she couldn’t hide her weariness. "Very... Very slowly," she sighed, running her hands down her face in exhaustion.

Ted's mischievous grin widened as he settled beside her, his excitement palpable.

As she looked at him, a mix of concern and curiosity flickered in her eyes. "What are you planning?" she asked cautiously, bracing herself for one of Ted’s wild ideas. His grin grew wider, a glint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "I’ve just had the most excellent idea, dudette. Let’s go!" With a swift motion, he grabbed her hand, pulling her up from her seat, his enthusiasm contagious.

Y/n hesitated, her responsibilities tugging at her conscience. "Ted Theodore Logan! I can’t just leave; I’ve got a paper due in the morning," she protested weakly, knowing deep down that Ted’s persuasion was hard to resist. But his determination was unwavering, and before she knew it, she found herself grabbing her jacket as Ted dragged her along to the Circle-K.

Standing before the familiar store, Y/n couldn't help but voice her skepticism. "Really, Ted? The Circle-K again?" Her hands found their way to her hips, her gaze fixed on the unassuming sign above.

Ted shrugged, undeterred by her doubt. "I know, I know. But tonight, we embark on a daring quest: to conquer every slushie flavor they possess!" Y/n couldn’t suppress a laugh at his infectious enthusiasm. "Alright, dude. But this time, you’re footing the bill... with your pretzel money," she teased, a playful grin tugging at her lips.

With a theatrical flourish, Ted swung the door open, bowing as Y/n entered with a mock curtsy, their banter echoing through the aisles as they filled their cups with an array of vibrant colors. But by the time they added the cola flavor, the mix turned a dark purple—not a very appetizing color. Y/n handed Ted her slushie and told him she’d go get some snacks. They met at the counter and pulled out all their loose money. Ted refused to let Y/n spend a dime on anything tonight, so she negotiated a penny, which he agreed to because he couldn’t argue with her logic.

Exiting the store, they embarked on their customary leisurely stroll home, tongues stained and spirits high. Ted's tongue became the subject of Y/n's laughter, prompting a playful exchange as they walked hand in hand. Ted stuck out his tongue, and Y/n laughed loudly. "Your tongue is so purple!"

"You should see yours!" he countered as he nudged her shoulder. She nudged him back a little harder, then bolted ahead. Ted followed after her, catching her with his free hand and pulling her into him. "You’re mine now, babe!"

Their journey led them to Y/n's backyard and her cherished treehouse, adorned with twinkling lights. It was her sanctuary, a haven away from the chaos of the world.

Ted sat down on one of the three beanbag chairs on the floor of the treehouse. They hadn’t had much time together lately. Y/n had been sent to an all-girls high school after getting into trouble too many times, being the third member of a certain-rockin'-duo. Ted and Bill had blamed themselves for a while, but now, they all had their own paths. Y/n was an A-student, and the boys were still very passionate about their band.

Y/n sat on the floor beside the window, next to where Ted was sitting. She looked out toward her house; her parents were in the dining room building a puzzle. 'How boring' she thought.

"Y/n," Ted’s usually bouncy, aloof demeanor wasn’t present in his voice. When she looked over at him, she saw the vulnerability she saw in him when he was around his father. "Yeah, Teddy?" The rare use of that nickname caused his heart to race. Only she could call him that, only Y/n. He looked away and shook his head, finishing off his slushie. Y/n sat up and placed her hand on his knee. "What’s wrong?" she asked, suddenly concerned.

"I- It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it," he quickly smiled to cover up his sullen attitude. "That won’t cut it. Tell me, or I’m kicking you out." He laughed. "Again!? But I just got pardoned!" he exclaimed gleefully.

Y/n stood up, her hands on her hips. "Teddy, I’m going to sit down." She spoke but didn’t give him a chance to respond. She straddled his hips, causing them to sink further into the beanbag. Ted’s face erupted in red, his ears, cheeks, and neck red as a tomato.

"Talk." She crossed her arms, knowing this was like Wonder Woman's lasso of truth to him.

Ted groaned, a mix of surprise and irritation. "Fine. I was gonna tell you anyway! You didn’t need to..." He motioned to her hips. She raised a curious brow, and his head fell back. "You’re acting like I don’t do this all the time." His head snapped back up, and he glared at her playfully, his hair looking wilder than usual. Y/n reached forward to thread her fingers through it. Ted’s eyes fluttered shut at the feeling.

"I miss you," he admitted softly, his hands finding their places on her hips. Y/n’s face softened in understanding. "Oh- I see… I have been really busy, haven’t I?" Ted nodded. Y/n continued to play with his hair. "You haven’t been around; even Bill misses you."

Y/n hummed. "Yes, I bet he does. But my sweet boyfriend misses me more, doesn’t he?"

"More than anything," his words were slow and mumbled. He was exhausted; this was probably weighing on him more than he realized.

Y/n removed herself from his lap; his hands reached for her as he groaned in protest. "Hold on for a sec, babe." Y/n spoke sweetly as she moved to open the trunk in the corner of the treehouse.

She pulled out a thick, fuzzy blanket and then moved back over to Ted. She sat down in his lap, her legs draped over his, and her head rested on his shoulder as she put the blanket over them. "Teddy, I’ll try and make more time for you and Bill. I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner that I was neglecting you." He shrugged tiredly, a goofy, tired smile on his lips, his eyes still shut as he struggled to keep his head up. "It’s totally cool, babe, no worries," she smiled at his words, allowing sleep to consume her.

Tom Ludlow

-

The sun was setting over LA, casting a warm glow that enveloped the balcony of my apartment. The fading daylight's gentle warmth kept me company as I lounged outside. A cold glass of iced tea sat on the table beside me, the ice cubes clinking softly as they melted. It was 7 o’clock, and I waited patiently, soaking in the tranquility of the evening.

Thirty minutes passed, and finally, the door to my apartment swung open and then slammed shut. "I’m home," my boyfriend's rough, tired voice echoed through the space. I rose from my chair on the balcony and made my way inside. "Green, Yellow, or Red?" I inquired, our signal for the mood we were in after work: Green for great, Yellow for moderate, Red for really shitty. I found him by the front door, shrugging off his coat. I crossed my arms and leaned against the doorway.

"Red. Bright fucking red," he grumbled. I nodded silently, understanding that it was my cue to let him set the pace. When he turned to face me, his shoulders visibly softened. "Look at you. Did you dress up for me, or?" he teased, a smirk playing on his lips. Even on Red days, we didn't bring our troubles home; they stayed on the doorstep. But we would address them eventually.

I smiled and shrugged, playfully turning away and heading towards the kitchen, with his heavy footsteps trailing behind me. His favorite meal awaited him on the table, along with a beer at his usual spot. He chuckled as he took in the spread. "You're amazing," he said, wrapping an arm around my waist and kissing the top of my head. I leaned into him, and he embraced me tightly, seeking solace.

"Don’t tiptoe around me tonight; I’ll be alright," he confessed, turning me to face him. His eyes scanned me from head to toe. I wore his favorite outfit—not too flashy, just the right mix of sweet and sexy. "Shall we eat?" I nodded, kissing the corner of his mouth, feeling his hands softly gripping my hips. I could tell he needed to unwind, and I was determined to help him relax.

So we sat down to dinner. I held a glass of wine in my hand while he nursed his first beer. Across from each other at the dining table, he turned the attention to me. "How was your day, sweetheart?" he inquired. I hummed, "Boring. Forced leave is stupid." He rolled his eyes. "You fell down a flight of stairs and had a mild concussion. I think it’s justified," he remarked. I scoffed, "I wouldn’t be here if I had just bought those new shoes you told me to." Tom chuckled, taking a long sip from his bottle. My wine remained barely touched.

"You're worried," he stated, knowing me like the back of his hand. He could read me like a book, even from the day we met. "Yes... I mean, you rarely have Red days anymore, so of course I’m worried," I confessed. He nodded, understanding, placing the bottle on the table before standing up from his seat. Standing beside me, he lifted my chin and kissed me tenderly. I melted into his embrace; I was supposed to be the one to relax him, not the other way around.

He pulled me up from my seat, guiding me to the living room as he peppered kisses along my jawline. His warmth enveloped me as his body pressed against mine. Sitting me on the couch, he knelt in front of me, and I tilted my head, curious. He smirked, "I can’t let my girl get stressed over me," he declared, his knuckles brushing against my ankles as he slipped off my heels. My eyes brimmed with affection as I watched him. What a sap. I chuckled at the thought, and his gaze met mine, his smile genuine.

"What’s so funny?" he inquired. I shook my head, smiling. His eyes darkened, locking onto mine like a predator eyeing its prey. Tossing my shoes aside, he stood up, maintaining his intense gaze. "I won’t ask again," he asserted with feigned authority. "You're a sap," I teased. He laughed, a genuine, happy sound. Surprised, he smiled. "A sap, huh? Why don’t you slip into something comfy, and I’ll come find you in the bedroom."

I nodded and stood, grabbing his hand and giving him a brief kiss before darting off to our shared bedroom. "Comfy" meant wearing his shirt and a pair of PJ shorts. I sat on the bed, organizing my bedside table, removing empty pill bottles and water bottles. This room had become my sanctuary during my leave, but I had let it become cluttered. As I threw away the last bottle, Tom entered the room. His expression was soft, and I noticed his hands were damp.

"Did you wash the dishes?" I asked. He nodded. "Oh, Tommy, you didn’t have to," I said, touched. He shrugged, "It gave me some time to think. Ready for bed?" I nodded wearily, then crawled under the covers. I watched him as he shut the bedroom door and began undressing, but he disappeared into the bathroom to change. "Tease!" I exclaimed, hearing his deep chuckle from the other side of the door. "Nothing you haven’t seen before, baby," he quipped.

When he emerged, he wore a pair of low-waisted black sweatpants. Nothing else. It was warm, and I didn't blame him. He climbed into bed, and we leaned against the headboard, me nestled against him with a book in hand. He turned on the TV, the volume low, quickly finding a rerun of an old TV show. This was our routine. If we weren’t tired, I would read while he watched something.

Tucked against his chest, I read my book. "How many is this?" he asked. "Four. Hopefully, next weekend I’ll have finished the fifth one," I replied. He hummed, kissing my head. "We lost an officer today. He was just a kid. It really hit me hard, and I’m not sure why," he confessed. I placed my book face down, looking up at him. "Oh, baby…" I caressed his face, kissing his cheek. He held my hand, kissing my palm.

"I’ll be alright. I’m taking the day off tomorrow. It’ll be just us," he assured me. I smiled, nuzzling back into him. "I like the sound of that. A day of infinite possibilities." We relaxed into each other, my book untouched, and the TV left on. A peaceful slumber enveloped us in its warmth.

[writefightandflightclub]

I have to know if Santi and Frankie are awkward around each other after the events of Captain of the Team. Or if they’re friends with benefits now? Or only do the dirty when Will invites them over?

Please ignore if you don’t care to answer lol if you can’t tell I’m forever obsessed with this fic. 💙💙💙💙💙💙

Author’s note: Ozzie! Oh my goodness! I love this request! Thanks so much for sending this. I rly enjoyed exploring CotT more and I’d be so up for future blurbs stemming from that universe. For your request, I had a quick think about various ways it couldda feasibly gone down between these two in the aftermath of ALL THAT, and this was the first semi-plausible scenario that came to me. By no means definitive, as I can see it happening in a range of ways. I absolutely blitzed this in excitement also, so apologies if it’s incoherent / full of typos / OOC. The more I think about it the more convinced I am that Frankie is the perfect foil to all of Santi’s hang-ups and I love them together so much!

P.s. If you don’t know what the game Buckaroo is I’m so sorry and you’ll see why.

Summary: this blurb follows on after the events of my Triple Frontier poly! Fic, Captain of the Team (spoilers for that fic follow from here, stop reading if you’d rather read that first) which involves Will + Santiago + Frankie x reader, and Frankie x Santi.

Relationship: this fic focusses on Frankie x Santi, in the aftermath of Captain of the Team. Hints of Santi x reader also, in the present and also references to a past relationship. Refs to 4-way poly.

POV: Frankie’s POV

Warnings: sexual themes and smut references but no full smut. Everything else typical of my characterisation of these two. FEEL FREE TO CORRECT MY SPANISH. Sorry for any mistakes.

Solid ground: (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x Francisco “Catfish” Morales)

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

It’s unusual, Frankie notes, that Santi didn’t stand to hug him upon arrival, but he chooses not to address it.

Instead, Santi takes an exaggerated slurp of his coffee, via the inadequate little mouthpiece of the disposable cup. He then folds his arms tightly around himself, hands tucked under his pits and nipples visible beneath the fabric of his thin cotton tee. Either the bastard’s self-soothing because of this imminent conversation, Frankie surmises, or he’s cold. It’s not even cold, but Santiago thrives on warmth. Frankie could swear he’d even complained of feeling chilly in the tropics one time, with the midday sun blasting down on him and everything.

“You cold, hermano?” Frankie teases, settling his lanky legs astride his side of the picnic table. Taking his jacket off without thinking and tossing it over to Santiago.

The bastard’s face twists beneath the brim of his cap, and yet he still takes it, eagerly shoving his arms into the sleeves and tugging it around him.

After recent events, the sight of Santiago wearing his coat certainly hits different, in a way he isn’t prepared for, and it kills any good-natured, teasing chuckle which otherwise may have erupted in his throat.

“So,” Frankie begins. “What’s up?”

Frankie is, evidently, itching to get straight to business.

Santiago had convened this hang. A pre-work coffee in the park. One-on-one. Perfectly normal, under other circumstances; but under these circumstances, it all felt a little… clandestine.

“Nothing much,” Santi bristles. “What would be up?”

Frankie closes his eyes. Steels himself against Santiago’s typical knee-jerk responses. He gets this kinda way when emotions are involved. For all his confidence, he’s deeply insecure. Afraid of anything too real. Afraid of not being enough. Frankie’s learned this the hard way, from years of watching him spin-out in every single relationship so far. Having watched him self-sabotage. Witnessing him ending things before they’d even begun so that his partner could never hope to leave him first, for that’s always what he believed - to the depths of him - was coming.

Fuck. He’d done that with you, and oh boy, he’d loved you.

Loves you, in fact.

“Oh. I dunno,” Frankie says casually, taking an altogether more casual swig of the coffee Santi proffers, sliding the second cup across to Frankie with the back of his hand. Frankie tastes it, and it’s not lost on him that Santiago remembered his order. “Thought you might want to talk about how we fucked last week.”

Santiago looks thoroughly scandalised for a moment, and Frankie can’t help it when his mouth lilts up with a smile.

Shit. Did he really think that wouldn’t come up?

“Why would I wanna talk about that, huh?” Santi’s brow is heavy, face drawn down.

Great. He’s getting defensive; which sure as hell means he’s feeling vulnerable. He’s shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He’s taking an aggressive sip of his coffee again. It would be a little funny - if it wasn’t so desperately sad.

So many people have had so much love to give Santiago over the years, Frankie reflects, and yet bestowing it upon him has almost had to be done by stealth, every time. It’s sorta like playing Buckaroo, Frankie figures. (That game where you place pieces of luggage on a plastic donkey until the weight eventually trips the mechanism and back hoofs everything off?) Yeah. Exactly. It’s like waiting for Santiago to drop-kick your gently applied love to shit, because inevitably, he suddenly decides he’s over-encumbered by it. Worried that he can’t possibly bear the burden.

Frankie frowns. Actually, he doesn’t like to think about donkeys so much, he decides. Not after the fucking Lorea job.

Anyway.

Instead: “Hey,” he says soothingly, and Santiago’s eyes snap up to his, warm but toughened. “Don’t be weird. It’s okay.”

Frankie knows what he needs, right? Prides himself on it. Knows how to take care of this bastard better than anyone does. Always has. Has done it by stealth, mostly - though sometimes overtly. Hasn’t been drop-kicked too many times for it either. He’d seemed, over the years, to be able to get away with things other couldn’t. He’s always felt kinda special because of that.

Given that fact then, Frankie decides that maybe he can be slightly bolder. Reaches his hand out towards Santiago’s own, and places it right on top.

A hard swallow dips down Santiago’s throat, but he doesn’t pull it away. He’s drawn towards warmth, after all. Always seeking out a little heat.

Frankie feels a warm jug of honey tip itself through his middle as his skin makes contact with Santiago’s. Decides that he can afford to get a little bolder again. Circles his thumb into Santiago’s wrist, in a way that definitely crosses beyond merely “friendly”.

“You look good in my jacket, pendejo,” Frankie purrs, and he deeply enjoys the crimson heat which blooms across Santiago’s cheeks - in the moment before he snatches his hand away.

Frankie’s not usually a flirt. Wouldn’t normally push it. Can’t ordinarily get his words out, instead opting for the pine and then die approach. But, there’s something about Santiago which makes all of this unfamiliar territory feel eminently comfortable. He wants to do the same for him - to help him break new ground without freaking out - but he also doesn’t want to push it.

Doesn’t want to push him.

The man doesn’t react well to being pushed. He’s already halfway out of everything he’s in, and that makes him far too easy to topple.

Frankie wants more out of this, he knows that much. But it occurs to him then, in a moment of panic, that Santiago might not. Or, even worse, and far more likely; that he does want more, but that he’ll do everything in his power to avoid admitting it.

Santiago has gone to great lengths to avoid his feelings before, after all - and so many of his “solutions” have included a goddamn one-way plane ticket.

“Pope,” Frankie begins, looking outward across the park so as to avoid Santiago feeling too boxed in. A tactic he’s deployed many times before when he’s needed to have tricky words with him. “Maybe we should talk about this.”

He glances at Santi briefly - risks it - and sees the fat vein throbbing relentlessly in his forehead. Can imagine his whole body similarly pulsing. Seeing his visible agitation, Frankie gives him time, taking another very deliberate and drawn-out swig of his coffee. Laboriously pondering - with a thinly feigned interest - the activities of the golden lab fetching sticks across the way.

“It shouldn’t have happened,” Santiago bites off after a while, and Frankie tries to obscure the way those words slice through him to his core. Now, he finds that he can’t look back at Santiago, albeit for completely different reasons than before.

Frankie takes a deep, calming breath. Avoids knee-jerk reactions. Tries to remember that this guy rarely says what he means. Starts to wonder, bitterly, if Santiago being so adept at knee-jerk reactions has cumulatively contributed to his joint problems; and then, he bites his lip to avoid saying that out-loud. Instead then, Frankie thinks. Pauses. Turns his body to face Santiago again and waits, until the man finally dares to peek up from under the brim of his cap. Only then does he speak what’s on his mind. Only then does he say what he needs to say, and, regardless of whether Santiago wants to hear it - he needs to. “I don’t regret anything,” Frankie says levelly. As clearly and calmly as possible. “Are you listening? I know what I felt in that room -with you- and I own it. I enjoyed what we did.” He lets the words bed down into Santiago. Knows that his cool, calm authority is just enough to command the space. Enough to avoid the little bastard interjecting before he is done. “I also value our friendship, and I don’t want to put that on the line. So… whatever you want from here goes, okay?”

Frankie genuinely thinks for a moment that he’s nailed it - but he should have known that his buddy wouldn’t be quite so easy to satisfy.

“Whatever I want from here?” Santiago openly scoffs.

“Yeah,” Frankie soothes, searching the other man’s turbulent brown eyes, expression soft and unblinking.

However, as he does so, Frankie suddenly has the awful, dawning feeling that -oh shit- he’s about to be drop-kicked.

“You know what I want from here? I think I want to leave this conversation,” Santi snipes. “This whole thing was clearly a fucking mistake.”

Frankie dares not ask whether Santiago means this conversation, or the whole damn thing. Frankie had been sincere, as per usual, when he’d said he regretted nothing, and pain flashes in his eyes and his gut at the notion Santiago might feel altogether differently.

Of course, though, he thinks. Of course Santiago can’t have a rational conversation about all of this. Has to fly off the handle before Frankie can possibly hope to establish what he truly feels.

So then, with a deep sigh, Frankie watches Santiago stand, the man apparently so in the habit of indulging his own bullshit that he can’t even stop for a fucking second.

“Cabrón,” Frankie says tiredly, standing too as he watches Santiago gather up his things, shoving the items angrily into his pockets.

Jesus.

Frankie suddenly has immense empathy for everything you’d had to deal with when you and Santiago had been together. He had a tendency towards the dramatic, that was for sure. He was also a stubborn bastard, determined to prove himself right. Even if that meant, ultimately, proving he wasn’t good enough for you after all by behaving that way.

Frankie grits his teeth, trying his best not to lose his temper - a rare thing for him as it was, but Santiago certainly testing his patience by being thoroughly infuriating. However, Frankie knows him well enough to know a reaction is exactly what he wants. A reaction so he can blame Frankie. A reaction so that he has an excuse to cut this short. So that he doesn’t actually have to deal with… whatever this is. With whatever he is feeling.

With a huff, then, Santiago next attempts to strip off Frankie’s kindly offered jacket and god; that’s the last straw to him. “Idiota. Eres un maldito burra,” Frankie growls - you’re a fucking donkey- and he strides right up to him, grabbing him squarely by the lapels and forcefully clasping the jacket shut before the bastard can wriggle himself - and his shapely boobs - out of it. “Would you just keep the damn jacket on,” Frankie spits. “There’s no need for you to be fucking cold.”

Frankie’s aggressively delivered kindness appears to shock Santi into submission and silence at least, his eyes going wide and his tongue quitting its wagging long enough to skim along his lower lip as slowly as spark along fuse. And, he does indeed halt his attempts to strip off. However, his nostrils do also flare in annoyance and he shrugs the taller man off of him, turning - dramatically - and marching directly towards his truck.

This dramatic exit leaves Frankie muttering under his breath, spitting expletives in all his tongues. His elbows cutting a sharp shape as he shoves one hand into the back pocket of his jeans, palm towards cheek, and the other palm slipping down his face in exasperation.

Jesus fucking christ.

Where did he go so wrong, huh? He knows this guy. Knows what he needs. Always has. Right? Unless the harsh truth of it is that, even after the impassioned melding of their bodies, Frankie actually doesn’t know Santiago half as well as he thinks.

Frankie thinks on that for a moment, his hand sliding over his scruff.

But.. it just doesn’t sit right with him. Doesn’t sit right because… no. That can’t be right.

There isn’t anybody else who comes close to having Santiago figured out - expect maybe you - and he’s damn sure he can get to the bottom of this. Therefore, suddenly feeling confident again - and determined not to put up with this utter nonsense - Frankie does indeed figure it out. Realises exactly where he’d gone wrong.

Frankie hastens, chasing the man down at a jog until he’s caught up on his little-legged strides. Rounds on his truck, and, as Santiago reaches towards the door handle, he flips around to face Frankie, a disdainful expression on his face.

Frankie doesn’t even wait for whatever bullshit is about to come out of Santiago’s mouth. Instead, he slowly but commandingly walks forward, shoving Santiago back. Pinning his back firmly to the vehicle, pressing him there firmly with the full length of his body. Frankie’s palms press to the glass either side of Santiago’s head. Boxing him in.

Frankie confirms it as he watches Santiago’s pupils blow-out with desire. As he catches the hard swallow dipping down his neck.

Frankie knows exactly where he’d gone wrong now, for sure.

He’d made the mistake you simply can’t make with Santiago. Frankie saying “whatever you want” was the worst thing he could have done, he realises. Because if you leave this insecure bastard to fill in the gaps? He’ll assume you don’t want him at all. You can’t leave him to say it first, or he never will.

Therein lies the impossible contradiction of Santiago Garcia. Tell him you want him, and he’ll run away from your feelings. Don’t tell him you want him and he’ll damn sure run from his own. Somehow, the man is simultaneously both the cockiest and most insecure bastard Frankie has ever known.

Frankie, meanwhile, had never had an issue with committing. With naming what he wanted, no holds barred, and standing by it.

And so, Frankie decides, he must go a little further for Santiago. Make things just a little clearer for him.

“I’m gonna say something, okay?” Frankie rumbles, his hips pinning Santiago’s body in place, the sturdy warmth of him bleeding through denim. Frankie searches his eyes, and Santiago nods meekly. “I want you,” Frankie breathes gruffly up against Santiago’s neck. “Wanted you for years.” He kicks Santiago’s legs apart with his boot, slotting one thigh in between his and letting him feel the urgent bulge at his crotch press firmly up against him. Then, Frankie lets his soft lips travel, grazing them up the column of Santiago’s throat, feeling his pulse point thrum wildly against them. “Want you again.” Ghosting his warm mouth along the stubble at his jaw until his lips hover, an inch away from a kiss and Santiago moans, low and resonant, into the air for him. “You got that, idiota?” Frankie pulls back with satisfaction, upon seeing the cock-drunk haze taking over Santiago’s heavy-lidded eyes. “That more along the lines of what you needed to hear, huh?”

“Uh. Uh huh,” Santiago stutters, and Frankie’s eyes soften with a sudden fondness.

“Good.” He crooks his forefinger under that shapely chin. “Now. We can go back to exactly how it was if you want. That’s okay. But if you do want this to happen again? I’m in. Alright?”

“Uh. Uh huh,” he repeats dumbly, frotting himself against Frankie’s bulging arousal with a hard promise all his own, and now it is Frankie’s turn to stutter as a zip of pleasure throbs all the way down to his balls.

“W-Will’s having people over on Sunday,” Santiago offers, his hands moving to Frankie’s waistband, clamping down on his leather belt and dragging him closer.

Fuck. Frankie’s length is throbbing with how fucking eager Santiago is. With the memory of being buried deep inside of him, years of unspoken tension finally finding an outlet. With how easily he could open him up all over again and find his release.

“No,” Frankie revs, desire churning in the pit of him.

“No?”

“How about sooner?” Frankie rumbles, losing himself a little in the sensations. Coming undone with the proximity. The delicious smell of Santiago’s obnoxious cologne.

And, as if by magic, suddenly, when Frankie’s eyes flutter closed and he releases a thick groan from his throat as Santiago cants his hips up against him, all the man’s smugness comes rushing back - just as forcefully as the blood rushing towards Frankie’s increasingly proud length.

“Wow. I really do look that good in your jacket, huh?” The cocky bastard arcs a thick, suggestive eyebrow, his eyes half-lidded and far too sinful for a man who perpetually carries around a hold-all full of lapsed-Catholic guilt.

“Be careful,” Frankie scolds, and a shit-eating grin splits Santiago’s face, his proud chin jutting out in challenge.

This fucking brat.

“Yeah? Why?”

“Last time, I was easy on you. Next time, I don’t have to be.”

And, despite his brazen, bold words, Frankie dips then to plant the softest, lightest kiss on Santiago’s mouth, stubble grazing against scruff.

He hadn’t realised just how much he had been needing to do that. How much he’d been aching for his soft lips since they’d first collided. And, gaze dancing around Santiago’s pretty face, he feels a rush of affection for the man. A deep need to take care of him. To make him feel safe.

He says so, in different words. “I’m not letting you run, alright?” Frankie breathes, the hypothetical possibility of Santiago ever skipping out on him constricting in his chest. “Not from me. Not after a lifetime.” It pains him that even still, Santiago looks somewhat conflicted. “Believe me,” he reaches to cup his face, the gesture halfway between a buddy’s chastising, harmless slap, and a tender signal of affection. “I already know alllll your bull shit, and you know mine. This doesn’t have to be anything it’s not already. Nothing it hasn’t already been. Nothing’s changed. Okay?”

Santiago seems to ponder this. His mouth pressed into a thin line.

Frankie’s gone out on a limb here, and his heart is in his mouth waiting to find out if the bough under him is about to snap. If he’s about to come crashing down.

Santiago doesn’t say anything for a moment, his dark eyes animated with thoughts. Slightly glassy with emotion. But then, with a sharp intake of breath he dips forward, slanting his supple kiss against Frankie’s mouth. Catching Frankie’s lower lip between his teeth, and ever so deliberately skimming his tongue along it.

Fuck. When he does that, an impossibly bright heat rolls down Frankie’s spine.

“And what is it?” Santiago asks cautiously. “What is this, exactly?”

A valid question. Four of you in an indecipherable tangle, feelings cutting across all corners. Frankie doesn’t know about all that, but he does know something.

And so, Frankie looks Santiago in the eyes. Looks right through the layers - each and every one. Filters through the cheek, the smugness. The lust and the loyalty. The vulnerability; and, eventually, he reaches all the way to that oh so familiar friendship beating right at the heart of this. The thing that feels unshakeable. Feels like solid ground.

He smiles, because the answer’s easy.

“It’s… us.”

“Us,” Santiago repeats levelly, and jeez; Frankie is eminently pleased that the suggestion doesn’t get his hackles up. Doesn’t seem to make him want to run, or to drop-kick Frankie’s affections clean off of him like a bucking luggage-loaded ass.

Simply “us”.

And what’s so scary about that?

It’s not an unknown.

It’s nothing new.

It’s something which has proven itself, time and again. A million times over.

In the next moment then, Frankie pushes himself away from Santiago’s body, creating some space, and taking some pains to slow his ragged breaths. Easing off, before they both get a little too excited - right here and now. Creates some distance, to make sure that Santiago has just a little spare blood to his brain when he receives the next question.

“Think you can handle that?”

Santiago rolls his eyes. Back to his old tricks. “You know you don’t have to be quite so condescending, cabrón?”

Frankie simply smiles with satisfaction, a throaty chuckle sounding out.

Santiago smiles right back.

It feels good, Frankie thinks. Feels good to know that he does knows what Santiago needs after all. Always has.

Nothing has really changed.

Oh, except for…

Santiago leans forward to whisper in Frankie’s ear, hands resting on his shoulders, winding up to the bare skin at the nape of his neck. “By the way.” This man’s sandy voice against the shell of his ear licks sugar down his spine. “When you said ‘sooner’…?”

“Yeah,” Frankie agrees immediately, fishing his car keys out of his jeans and beeping the doors unlocked from all the way across the lot. “See you at your place in 5?”

Santiago laughs. Laughs because of how worked up Frankie’s apparently gotten himself. Laughs, maybe, he hopes, because of how beautiful it is to have found this.

Frankie looks back at him as he nods the affirmative, before preparing to climb into the driver’s side of his own vehicle.

Santiago looks so fucking smug, and oh boy.

Frankie’s fantasised about wiping that smirk off his buddy’s face for decades, and he can’t believe he got so lucky.

[nanahachikyuu]

love me at my worst // Finan x Reader

Summary: when Finan wakes up from a nightmare you’re there to bring him back.

Pairing: Finan x Reader

Warnings: Nightmares, fluff, ooc Finan

Word count: 1504 (it was supposed to be a drabble, I’m sorry)

A/N: I’ve been working on this for a long time now. I was having a Finan the Agile moment and had this little scene playing in my head repeatedly. I’m worried Finan might be a bit out of character, and I apologise for that. I hope you enjoy it and please be kind.

Gentle reminder that English is not my first language, and this was not proofread.

The first thing you sensed was a shift in the atmosphere of the room that slowly pulled you out of your slumber. As you felt the change, you opened your eyes, taking some time to get used to the darkness, the only light being the moon shining in the room through the ajar window and a candle you’ve forgotten to put out before going to bed, but that at this point was almost gone.

Beside you, Finan stirred, and you noticed that he was the one that had woken you up. The man was clinging to the furs that covered both your bodies for dear life, his white knuckles proof of his strong grip. Even through the dim light you could see he was sweating, the droplets glittering on his clenched forehead. Behind his trademark beard, his lips were pursed, as if he was holding back the screams that were fighting to make their way out through his throat.

The thing about Finan’s nightmares was that they were never loud. He wouldn’t trash in the bed or scream and shout. He suffered in silence, the same way you imagined he did all those years back when he was still a slave. The memories that haunted him playing over and over again in his mind each night.

You’ve been officially together for almost a year now. However, he still hadn’t shared with you thorough details about that part of his past, not that you could ever blame him. It takes time to share one’s deepest traumas and scars, that was something you could understand.

The first thing you did was stand up to light up another candle. You’ve learned that it was always better to wake him up when the room was brighter. You imagined the shadows that hid in the dark allowed to continue the ones in his nightmares.

Kneeling beside him, you shake his shoulders, just hard enough for him to open his eyes, gasping. You watch him look around the room, as if searching for something, or someone, while his brown eyes focused on your surroundings.

“Finan”, you call his name. “Can you hear me?”.

“Y/N?”, he asks, his voice hoarse from the lack of use, or from holding back the screams you knew he wanted to let go.

“Yes love, it’s me. How are you feeling?”.

Instead of answering, the Irishman closed his eyes again, before taking you in his arms and pulling you up beside him on the bed. As your head rests on the furs, he wraps himself around you, his head on your neck as he breaths you in. You can feel his strong shoulders and chest moving as he took deep breaths.

It breaks your heart to see such a strong man crush like this. A carefree, witty man when the sun was out, but that lately had been crumbling to pieces when it got dark and the moon came out, and no one could witness his collapse. No one, except you.

You believed that whatever Finan had seen on his latest travels with Lord Uhtred reminded him of his time as a slave. Since their return a couple weeks back, the nightmares, which up until then occurred only occasionally, had been happening almost nightly.

As the minutes went by, Finan controlled his breath again, the arms that were holding on to you for dear life slowly loosing its tight grip. Careful not to touch his back, where he had most of his scars, you caressed his neck and let your fingers run through his dark mane, trying your best to soothe him.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” you ask, then.

It had become your routine in these past tumultuous nights. Every time a nightmare would interrupt his otherwise peaceful rest, you two would walk around the streets of Coccham, hand in hand, sometimes in silence and others simply talking amenities, until the first rays of sunshine appeared in the horizon. It was during one of those walks that he told you about the time he was the Lord of Mercia’s most trusted advisor for a day. His eyes bright from the memories, little creases on the sides each time he smiled, the thunderous and sincere laughter that made your heart sing in the same rhythm.

“Yes, mo ghrá, that’d be great”, the Irishman replied, kissing your forehead before getting out of the bed.

As you got dressed, you peeked at Finan whilst he put his own clothes on; white, and heavily stained, tunic over his broad chest, where you’ve spent many hours with your head laid on, the sound of his strong heartbeat your favourite lullaby. The belt with his sword wrapped tightly around his waist, because on his own words “you never know what you’re going to find outside”.

“You ready to go?” Finan asked, hands reaching out for yours.

The streets of Coccham were serene, a tremendous contrast to the busy hours of the day. Luckily, it was a full moon night, its light brightening your path, as you walked calmly beside Finan, his imposing presence more than enough to free you of any concerns of what might’ve been hidden in the dark alleys here and there. Not that he’d ever let anything happen to you. You trusted this man with your life, and your heart.

You walked for what felt like hours, a comfort silence settled between you. As time went by, you felt Finan slowly going back to his true self. The sun light starting to appear in the sky scaring away the darkness and forcing the shadows to retreat to that place he kept locked away inside himself.

What you loved most about these moments with Finan was the small glimpses of his adventures with Lord Uhtred, Sihtric and Osferth he’d share with you. It soothed your heart to know that despite all the dangers they faced, there was also time for laughter and moments of joy.

This time, he was telling you about the time they had “kidnapped” Young Uhtred, his father intending to take him with them as they tried to reconquer Bebbanburg.

“Uhtred had Sihtric bring the boy a horse as a gift, and he looked so proud about it. But the thing was the size of a pony and barely reached his waist”, he told you, his eyes shining from the memories likely playing in his mind.

“Who would’ve thought Uhtred knew so little about a boy’s growth spurts and puberty”, you joked, the smile on his beautiful face only getting bigger as he told you about the iconic moment.

“And then, to finish burying his poor father’s heart, when Uhtred announced he was taking the kid back to Bebbanburg, he said he never heard of it. The little shit looked the almighty Uhtred of Bebbanburg in the eye and said he never heard of his precious home”. He laughed deeply at the memory, and how much you loved to hear that sound again.

Finally, just as the sun started peeking in the horizon, you both arrived at your new favourite spot, a wooden bench at the top of a small hill, looking over a clearing. You sit beside the Irishman, your head resting on his broad shoulder, and his arm immediately involving your frame, softly caressing your back. The peaceful silence settled, as you watch the breaking dawn.

“I’m sorry” Finan starts suddenly, calling your attention. “I’m sorry it’s taking me so long to come back properly this time around”.

“You never have to apologise for that Finan” you reply, moving from your spot on the bench and standing in front of him. You place your hands on his cheeks, his smooth beard lightly tickling you, while his hands move to rest on your hips automatically, “You will never have to be alone like that ever again, because I will always, always, be here for you, for as long as you’ll have me”.

Finan looks up at you then, the sunrise shining from behind you. In that moment, you looked ethereal to him, he could swear you were his own guardian angel, ready to fight and conquer heaven and earth for him.

“I love you, Finan”, you confess, staring into his deep brown eyes. “I’ll be here, whenever you want me”.

Even though you’ve been calling him “love”, and Finan had been referring to you by that Irish term you were sure meant something important to him, those three little words had yet to be said by the pair of you up until that moment.

“I love you, mo ghrá”, the Irishman answers, standing up to embrace you decently, his forehead leaning on yours softly.

As the sun finally appears on the horizon and Coccham starts to fill with life, you and Finan make your way back home hand in hand. The scares of the night now locked away for good, scared away by the new light you’ve shone upon his life, one he thought he’d never have again outside his imagination.

[bt-writing]

Ribbons

Kaedehara Kazuha x gn!Reader

A/N: this is my first fic, so it might sound a bit stiff. i’m nervous posting but tried my best! sorry for it being so long,,, do people still post longer fics on tumblr anymore?;; it’s the “he saves u” trope. enjoy :)

warnings: blood/light gore, knife, violence, cursing, needles, possible ooc, SPOILERS for Kazuha’s story/Ch.2 Prologue

SFW

word count: 7.6k

summary: You and Kazuha are sent into Liyue Harbor on a supply run, but the trip takes a turn.

If it wasn't for the rising and setting of the sun, time would have felt unmoving. This feeling, however, was nothing foreign to the crew aboard the Alcor. Not much variety came with sailing at sea. Usually, gentle blues were painted across the sky, and ocean waves licked the battle ship's hull. The scenery was peaceful but greatly lacked excitement. Because of this, feelings of anticipation and relief always managed to fill the air when Captain Beidou declared for the docking of the Alcor.

I set the last of some folded cloth into a small crate, then secured the lid shut. Beidou had chosen to dock us in Guyun Stone Forest, as she planned to hold the Crux Clash nearby in a few days. The crew was tasked with preparing the supplies to be sent to the tournament's location. Since the event's focus was on the fighting, no one minded reusing the boat's supplies, which were slightly dull from their time at sea.

The contents of the crate were light, so I had no problem carrying it out onto the main deck. Everyone was casually loading their own crates and carrying various boxes ashore. Across the deck from me, a very unimpressed Kazuha talked with Sea Drake, who was failing at balancing a pile of large crates in his arms. The top of the stack predictably crashed down onto the deck floor, followed by several more boxes of the cargo. Kazuha sighed down at the large man, who began to dejectedly reassemble the fallen supplies.

Almost as if the wind had brushed his hair aside and whispered a secret in his ear, he looked over in my direction to see I had witnessed the ordeal occur. Kazuha's usual gentle smile dawned across his face. The easygoing nature he emanated always managed to relax me—as if his kind eyes put me under a calming spell. Returning his smile, I continued on, descending the ship's gangway. The feeling of the stable ground under my feet was a welcomed change after so many weeks at sea. I placed my smaller crate among the other cargo on the shore.

"(Y/N)! C'mere for a second." Beidou called to me from her place next to Juza, who she'd been chatting with for a while. Earlier, I spotted Juza pointing around the area and Beidou nodding in turn, so I figured they were overlooking the packaging and transporting of supplies. Swiftly moving around the boxes in my path, I made my way over to the woman.

"Yes, Captain?"

"You're heading into the harbor while we're here, right? You doing anything special there?" I thought her question over briefly. I was planning on going into Liyue Harbor, but I had no dire plans.

"Not especially." She smiled her big, toothy grin at this.

"Fantastic. While we're here, I wanna take the chance to restock some of our supplies. I need you and Kazuha to pick up some stuff for the Alcor." She turned her head up in the direction of the main deck. I realized Kazuha had been watching us talk from above after meeting his eyes. He looked away from me and nodded to Beidou, who was waving him down over to us. "The ride from here to the harbor will take a few hours, so it's best to leave while it's still early. Do you think you'll be ready to go soon?" I returned my sight from Kazuha and answered Beidou.

"Uh—yeah, I'll be ready. I just need a few minutes to throw some stuff together." Beidou nodded and continued to speak, although her eyes were cast on something behind me.

"I'll go ahead and leave the list of supplies needed with Kazuha. You go prepare, (Y/N), while I fill him in." The person of her attention had quickly made his way off the ship and now took his place next to me, waiting to be informed of our trip together.

"Yes, Captain." I gave Beidou a final nod and Kazuha a parting smile, before turning away. The voices of the two I had departed from slowly grew faint as I made my way back onto the ship.

Once I was left alone to gather my belongings, the blush I had been fighting back crept its way onto my face. I would be left alone with Kazuha while in Liyue Harbor. The two of us had been good friends ever since Beidou accepted him into the Crux Fleet, although he was a bit hard to understand at first. As Kazuha warmed up to the crew, it was quickly apparent how friendly and kind-hearted he was. After many nights of drinking and listening to him recite haikus in the crow's nest of the ship, I found myself having feelings for the fugitive samurai.

In retrospect, it was truly an unwinnable fight. Kazuha was undoubtedly attractive. His silky white hair pulled into a side ponytail gave him a matureness that was nicely complemented by his softer features. His expression was naturally welcoming, but the passionate, bright red of his irises concealed a mysterious past. Even if I were to ask him a hundred questions, there would still be plenty I didn't know about Kazuha.

I packed light, but I was sure it was more than my travel partner would ever consider bringing. Kazuha instantly proved me right as I made my way onto the shore. Per usual, the clothing on his back and his sword constituted as his luggage. It was a common saying of his that as long as he had his blade by his side, there was nowhere he couldn't go.

"Good morning, (Y/N)," Kazuha greeted. "Have you finished preparing for our journey?"

"I have."

"Then, let us be off."

---

The sun began to kiss the horizon by the time Kazuha and I arrived at the harbor. The warm light emitted from the city's traditional lanterns spread its famous nightlife ambiance through the streets. It was an impossible feeling to replicate out in the darkness of the ocean.

I looked over to inspect my partner. It was no secret he was fond of spending time in nature and had much intimate experience with the outdoors from his travels. Although this wasn't his first time visiting Liyue Harbor, I wondered if there was a bit of a sensory shock going from the mostly quiet life aboard the Alcor to the busy city nightlife. If Kazuha was shocked, he concealed any hint from being apparent on his features.

"You've told me before that you usually opt for camping outdoors," I began. "What do you plan to do for shelter tonight?" I was more than happy to spend time with Kazuha, but I couldn't help but crave a warm bed and a room that didn't sway all night.

"That is true," Kazuha chuckled. Even if it was brief, his small laugh sent butterflies into my stomach. "However, the air has begun to stir. It'll most likely rain tonight. I'd rather take my chances at finding an inn." I might never understand how he was able to predict the weather the way he did, but his judgment had never been wrong in the time I'd known him.

"Likewise. Liyue Harbor is a popular location for tourists and travelers, so there's always places open late for people like us." The trip here was long and tiring, and I was hoping to take a shower as soon as possible. "There's a nice place I know of only a short walk from here."

On the way to the inn, I saw many of the night shops and vendors laying out their goods. The sun would be gone from the sky relatively soon, but that did little to discourage the citizens from staying indoors. Enthusiastic voices filled the streets as people conversed and bartered. The storytellers who entertained at restaurants echoed their tales, and the rich smell of Liyue's cuisine ensued. I felt a bit embarrassed. Even though I was a local to the city, I had been looking around the streets more excited than Kazuha. Nonetheless, I was happy to be back for a bit.

"It's been a while since I was last here. I grew up here, yet I still feel elated every time I return from a journey." As the words were spoken aloud, I quickly felt regret in saying them. From what I knew about Kazuha's past, he was unwelcomed back to his home. "Ah! I'm sorry, that was insensitive of me to say."

Kazuha, however, was unbothered by my comment. His face held no sort of negative emotion. Rather, he seemed more at peace than usual, if that was possible for the already carefree soul.

"You need not apologize for appreciating your home... It's a wonderful thing to still feel joy when visiting a place you know well. Often, a place well-traversed easily grows monotonous." His forgiving eyes met mine, and I felt I would become weak if I looked into them any longer. "It also happens to be that your enjoyment is rather contagious."

His smile might very well be far more lethal than any monster we face at sea.

I silently hid the blush his tender words caused by studying the stalls that lined the street. All kinds of colorful trinkets and gems were exhibited by the various stores. The renowned Mingxing Jewelry shop had elegant rings and necklaces displayed all along the store's front, and thick jewels sat lavishly on the wooden shelves. There was a certain Mingxing good in particular that caught my eye. Several vibrant ribbons with delicate gold embroidery were splayed along a velvet case. They looked like they were intended to be hair accessories.

Not long after, we arrived at our inn. Once done checking in with the receptionist, Kazuha and I made our way to the two-bed room we would inhabit for the night. The inn wasn't the fanciest place available in Liyue Harbor by a long shot, but compared to the rough conditions we faced on the Alcor, it could've been the very bedroom intended for the Jade Chamber. The room itself was on the cozier side, but having two separate beds would give us some privacy.

"Do you mind if I use the bathroom first? I've been craving a proper shower ever since Beidou said we'd be landing." Bathing was difficult in the middle of the ocean, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss the relaxing feeling of a hot shower.

"Go right ahead," Kazuha acknowledged as he made himself comfortable on the outdoor balcony overlooking the harbor.

---

It didn't take long for the two of us to clean up, as it was now impossible to ignore our shared hunger. We had quickly decided on Wanmin Restaurant since it was high-quality food served late at night. After ordering, we found an open table off to the side of the restaurant. Sharing meals outside was the usual case for the Crux Fleet, but it felt special to do so with the wandering samurai under Liyue's night sky.

"Beidou said she left the list of supplies we need to get with you," I said, starting conversation. I didn't mind Beidou requesting for us to run this errand, regardless of her being my Captain. She had done more than enough to earn my friendship and respect. Spending time with Kazuha in Liyue Harbor was also much more exciting than shopping alone, although I doubt Beidou knew what she was doing by arranging this. Kazuha made a sound of agreement in response.

"Since we got here relatively late, I thought it would be best for us to find a place to stay first and foremost. Fresh supplies will arrive with the morning shipments," he breathed out with a light sigh, "but Beidou requested for so much, it would never fit on the boat we arrived in. We'll need to find a sailor with a larger boat to transport it all in. Of course, this can wait for tomorrow."

"She didn't happen to include a shipment fee for the trip back, did she?" I laughed, already knowing the answer was 'no'. Kazuha's sigh was heavier this time, but a grin had broken out on his face. We continued to chat about the materials we'd need to obtain the next day.

The waitress eventually interrupted the conversation with our meals. The atmosphere was a comfortable one—laughing with Kazuha under the stars and surrounded by the lively city. I would without a doubt remember this night for a long time.

I knew Kazuha was a wanderer who made no promise to stay in one place for too long, and that eventually, he would leave the Crux Fleet to continue his journey. It would be unfair to try and convince him to stay with us for longer than he felt life intended, yet I couldn't help but selfishly pray to the Archons to prolong our time together as much as possible. In moments like these, I couldn't bring myself to look away from the man in front of me. If love had an expression, I imagined it would look similar to the one he wears. Light from the lanterns and the moon simultaneously dusted his features. It bounced off the highlights in his white hair every time he tilted his head or laughed. The scarlet irises of his eyes suffocated me in a warm ocean. Perhaps, it was these things that kept me afloat while at sea on the Alcor rather than the ship itself.

"Will you be leaving the harbor with the supplies tomorrow?" I asked, knowing he had no business in Liyue Harbor other than fulfilling Beidou's request.

"Most likely. I'll need to assist with setting up the tournament." I saw him shift his arm from beneath the table. "I am also in possession of its prize at the moment."

Kazuha had told me the story of how he obtained the "Masterless Vision" earlier in our friendship. It was an item that often aroused solemn feelings from him during the dead of night. I couldn't help but frown at the idea of him offering it as a prize to be won by some stranger.

"Are you sure it's a good idea to have it be the winning prize for the Crux Clash, though? It's just... It feels so sentimental."

"I've tried many different experiments in order to test the possibility of it reawakening... I feel that if I do not abandon that sentimentality or keep the vision for myself, I will be doing an even greater injustice to my friend," he spoke. His eyes were unreadable, but I had the feeling it was not as easy to use the vision in such a way as he made it sound. Kazuha had never been the type to act rashly or make impulsive decisions, so there was no reason for me to press his choice any further.

"I understand, Kazuha."

---

It was late by the time we finished eating and returned back to our inn. Before entering, however, I remembered something I had to do before the night ended.

"Kazuha, there's something I need to go to do real quick. I won't take long. It's okay if you head inside without me." I was hoping there wouldn't be too much resistance at my request for him to go without me. His expression told me I wouldn't be so lucky.

"The air is distraught," he frowned, "it'll be raining soon, (Y/N)." I wouldn't let his frown stop me, as this was something that could only be done tonight.

"I promise, Kazuha, I'll be back shortly. The longer we wait, the more likely it is I'll be caught in the rain."

"Okay," he hesitated. "Don't take too long."

We parted ways in front of the inn, which wasn't far from my destination. I had remembered the ribbons being sold at the Mingxing Jewelry shop and wanted to buy a pair for Kazuha and I. Even if we were to part ways, I hoped to be a part of his life that he would always remember, just as he was for me. A ribbon to serve as his hair tie would be a nice gift to accomplish just that.

Upon arriving at the shop, I pointed out a bright vermillion ribbon and a (color) ribbon to Xingxi. She wrapped them elegantly around what appeared to be a thin, rectangular wooden charm, and then slipped a velvet pouch covering over the gift. Just as I had finished paying and stepped away from her booth, thick drops of rain began falling around me.

Kazuha's weather-predicting streak continued to be flawless.

I attempted to shield the gift from the increasingly steady downpour as I quickly made my way back to our inn. There was no doubt in my mind that the samurai would scold me the second I walked through the door. It would only be worse once he discovered the reason I stayed out was for him. It was in Kazuha's nature to care greatly for his friends' well-being, yet I always managed to find myself feeling giddy when he expressed his concern for me.

With my mind distracted by the man waiting for me back at the inn, I failed to notice the long arms that reached out from the thin alley I was passing. Before I knew what happened, I found myself thrown onto my hands on the cold, wet alley ground. I looked around the space to be confronted with three figures. The man closest to the entrance of the alley was tall with slender limbs. I assumed he was the one who grabbed me in the first place. There were two people opposite of him—a man and a woman. Both were shorter than the first man but had a more muscular definition from what I could see through the rain.

It was a bad situation to be caught in. The heavy rain had sent all the residents back inside, and the low visibility cast by the now cloudy night sky wasn't helping my case. No one would be able to spot my predicament in such dark conditions.

I was certainly not helpless in a fight as a member of the Crux Fleet, but being caught disarmed in a three against one fight has never been to anyone's advantage. Still on the ground, I spotted Kazuha's gift, knocked out of my hand from the impact of being thrown. When I reached out to grab it, the woman swiftly brought the heel of her boot down hard on the middle of my back, winding me. The second man picked up the pouch and placed it in the woman's outstretched hand.

"This one was just at Mingxing's. Might've bought some expensive shit," the woman said. As she pulled the wooden rectangle out of the bag, however, her expression turned sour. "Ribbons? Are you kidding me?" She unraveled the red one I had chosen for Kazuha and gave her next orders. "Pat 'em down and see if there's anything else."

"Get the hell off me!" I tried to fight back, but the woman's boot was still firmly planted in the center of my back. The two men now crouched over me and began feeling up and down my sides. One reached into my pocket and found the spare mora I had left from the day. Luckily, the majority of it remained back at the inn room.

"Not much left besides a handful of mora. Everything probably went into those ribbons, yeah?" The tall man who took the mora grumbled.

"Damnit. They'll have to do then. Most of that shit from Mingxing's sells for something, at least," the woman chewed her lip, then shifted more of her weight onto my back, causing me to groan out. "Hey. How much'd you buy this string for?"

"None of your business," I forced out. I wasn't scared of some criminals like these, who couldn't even compare to the notoriously weak treasure hoarders, but it was quickly becoming harder to breathe due to the pressure on my body.

This was apparently not the correct answer. The woman lifted her boot from my back, giving me a chance to inhale. Just as I tilted my head up to get a good look at my assailant, she swung her foot hard, colliding with the side of my head. The impact sent me rolling into the wall of the drenched alley. I moaned from the throbbing pain in my skull and slowly propped myself up on my side with my arm. Once my vision stopped swimming, I was met with a small knife the woman had shoved in my face. The two men with her seemed surprised as they stood some distance behind her. They most likely didn't expect a small mugging to escalate like this.

"Are you sure you wanna talk to me like that, brat? I'm sure some blood would clear up just who exactly is in charge of this situation real quick," she hissed out with an ugly look on her face. I knew she wasn't bluffing. My pride and experience as part of the Crux Fleet wouldn't let me be fearful, but the intensity of it all had really increased after the woman pulled out a weapon.

The lack of submission on my face must have irked the woman even further. This time, I received a nauseating kick to the stomach. It was much worse than the first hit. Since I was already against the wall, the momentum had nowhere to go but throughout my body. I let myself lie on the ground, trying to catch my breath and deal with the pain.

Leaning in close to my face, the woman asked again, "How much was the damn ribbon?"

I grimaced, feeling incredibly frustrated. At this point, my clothes were freezing and uncomfortably sticking to my body, which was aching in two separate places. The air was windy and agitated, and it was hard to think straight between a brutal headache and a knife pointed directly at my face. But, more than anything, I was mad regarding what they decided to steal from me.

It really was just some string, like the woman said. Kazuha's ribbon dangled in her hand that wasn't holding the knife, while mine was still wrapped around the wooden charm, discarded on the ground. I knew Kazuha wouldn't want me to go to such lengths for a material gift, but I was angry—at them for stealing it, and at myself for being helpless to defend it. I was no use to anyone dead, so I conceded and told the woman the price.

"Twelve thousand... for both," I said while sitting up from the ground as much as I could. There wasn't anywhere I could move to put distance between myself and her weapon, so I tilted my head to the side while keeping my eyes locked with hers. The woman clicked her tongue at me, but didn't respond. She seemed to be studying me over. There was a tense silence, and the relentless wind blowing the rain multiplied the strong, suffocating feeling in the air. The two men behind her grew more and more fidgety the longer the silence permeated.

"Hey..." the second man looked like he was going to reach his arm out towards the woman, but didn't fully commit to the action. It was obvious she was the ringleader of their trio, but also the most unstable one. "We got what we could from them. Shouldn't we just get outta here before the Millelith catch on?"

"Those guards won't be able to see past their polearms with all this rain, let alone down a dark alley," she snapped her reply back at the second man. "Damnit! What is up with all this wind?"

The wind had picked up substantially at this point, surpassing the rain in force and speed. It wasn't as bad from low on the ground, but I was not spared from the brutal lashing caused by the air. In the darkness of the alley, I saw the bright red ribbon I bought for Kazuha, soaked and thrashing wildly in the woman's hand. If she happened to let go, it would surely be carried off on the wind and never seen again.

I muttered out, "You should... put the ribbons back in their bag." My female assailant whipped her head back to me and crouched down in my face.

"You know, you've had a real fuckin' attitude problem from the start!" Her displeased face was scrunched up. It was obvious the speed of the wind had caused her to become more distressed than she already was.

"I'm sure your friends think the same about you," I spat back.

The woman's eyes widened and her brows furrowed tight. I knew provoking her wasn't a smart move, but I couldn't help my comment while watching Kazuha's gift become ruined in her hands. Quickly, her hand with the knife retracted from my face and was thrust towards my upper chest. I reacted in time by shifting my body back down towards the ground.

A terrible stinging feeling flared from my upper arm, where her weapon had left a deep cut. I gasped in pain from the sudden stab wound. Dark red blood trailed down my arm and stained my clothing, then began to pool on the street beneath me. The injury was nothing fatal, but it was hot with pain and would become dangerous if not treated relatively soon. I had assumed the woman's threats were serious, but part of me didn't imagine her actually stabbing me until it was too late. The longer I was in this situation with the thieves, the greater the risk on my life was. The wind whipped violently around us and the hard rain slapping the pavement muffled my voice.

"Kazuha..." I groaned out. At this point, all I wanted to do was return to him and his warmth.

I was tired of the cold.

I gripped my hand over the bleeding wound on my arm. The second I had cast my eyes down, a yell came from the men on the other side of the alley. Two dull thuds were heard as their bodies fell into my line of sight on the ground. Frantically turning around, the woman found herself face to face with the blade that always adorned Kazuha's side. It was radiating a bright glow due to the elemental energy infused. Wind and rain swirled around the sword, drawing my eyes towards the samurai himself.

His bangs were slicked down to his forehead from the storm and water trailed down the curves of his face. What was more shocking than Kazuha's arrival, however, was his expression. The eyes that normally held so much empathy and care were brutally cold and unforgiving. Lightly pinched eyebrows pushed against his lidded eyes, and frowning lips parted to speak to my attacker.

"It appears I've been led to quite the vile situation now, haven't I?" Kazuha's voice was calm, but held none of his usual soothing tone. It was harsh and bitter, something I've never heard from him before—not until now.

The woman began stuttering out, shocked that she had been caught and overwhelmed by the vision user so quickly.

"L-led here? How? No one should've been able to see us here with all the rain!" She eyed the long blade held in front of her, but didn't dare move a muscle.

"Foolish people say foolish things," he bit. "Nature's gaze witnessed your crimes, and the disturbance in the rain told me of your location."

Of course, that was the case. I should've known Kazuha was aware of the danger I was in even before I did. His sword was unwavering in the face of the woman as he spoke his next words.

"As members of the Crux Fleet, we abide by the laws of the sea. For crimes such as this, the law calls for the thief to be thrown out to sea with their hands bound and legs broken," Kazuha's voice was pure ice at this point. "And I'm not one to break our law."

Panic was evident on the woman's face. Her eyes wildly darted around before she decided to test her luck and moved to run out of the alley. The back of Kazuha's anemo-infused blade struck the back of her head sharply, causing her to collapse just as her two partners had. It was now just Kazuha and I, surrounded by the three unconscious bodies of my attackers, windblown and drenched.

He turned away from the woman's body and moved towards me. Slightly in shock, I was unable to speak out to him. The passionate red eyes I adored were stoic and unreadable. They avoided meeting my own, and instead focused on studying my injuries. With his sword returned to its sheath, Kazuha unwrapped his scarf from his neck. Crouching down in front of me, he gently grabbed my arm and inspected the cut. Blood and water ran down the entire front side of my arm, and the rain had diluted the pool of burgundy below me, now running between the valleys of the street.

His frown remained as he spoke, "It'll need stitches, but this will have to do for now." Using his scarf as a tourniquet, he firmly wrapped it over the wound. In no time at all, blood had stained it several shades darker than it previously was.

Next, he traced his hand up from my injured arm to my cheek, where I assumed a visible mark was left. Sharp pangs had been coming from my face and stomach ever since I was first hit. My cheeks were wet from the rain, so I couldn't tell if her kick had broken the skin or not. Kazuha's fingers were barely felt as they brushed my hair back and ghosted over my face. It was as if he thought I would break the second any pressure was applied. Kazuha was close, yet still refrained from letting our eyes meet.

"Kazuha—"

He cut me off by lightly resting his hand on top of my head in a comforting gesture. I felt an ache in my chest, but I couldn't tell if it was from the pain or his actions. I was dripping wet from the water, freezing cold from the now absent wind, and covered in blood. I was a mess, but I was okay because of him. Things surely wouldn't have ended well if Kazuha didn't sense the danger I was in.

"Thank you, Kazuha," I bit the inside of my lip, beginning to feel emotional. "Thank you for saving me."

Kazuha stood up off the ground, scanning the three unconscious assailants.

"I need to leave and bring the Millelith to take care of them, (Y/N). Will you be okay alone for a minute?" he spoke. I could tell he didn't want to leave me alone again by the way he stared at the bodies, making sure they were out cold and not just faking it.

I reassured him, "I'll be okay, Kazuha. You can go."

I watched him hurry out of the alley to grab the nearest Millelith soldiers. The lighthearted feeling I had when the rain first started had quickly dissipated with the events that followed. Instead of getting scolded by him with his forgiving smile, I knew things would be grim and regretful. The original culprit of my prolonged outing was curled pitifully on the ground in front of me. The ribbon was soggy, but still a vibrant shade of red against the dark pavement.

Shifting, I moved myself to pick up Kazuha's ribbon, tracing over the embroidery with my fingers. I hoped that letting it dry would restore it to its original condition. Shuffling across the alley, I picked up the equally waterlogged wooden charm with my ribbon still wrapped around it. The state of the gift put a frown on my face. Finally, the velvet pouch the gift came in was similarly abandoned in the middle of the alley, waiting to be picked up. Kazuha returned with the Millelith soldiers just as I finished reassembling the present.

Two soldiers made their way over to the unconscious muggers behind me, while one came to assist me. Kazuha remained at the entrance of the alley, talking with another soldier.

"Are you able to walk?" The soldier had a boyish face. If he was new, the sight of my blood didn't alarm him.

"I think so," I let him help me up. Once I was upright, the blood rushed to my head and I became dizzy. The soldier held me as I leaned on him for support, letting the spots fade from my vision.

"Dr. Baizhu usually isn't available this late at night. I can bring you to the Millelith's headquarters to get cleaned up," he offered.

My savior's voice intercepted, "No need. We're travelers staying at an inn nearby, and I have medical supplies to treat their wounds. I'll bring them to your doctor in the morning." Making his way over to the boyish guard and myself, he replaced the guard and supported my weight. Even in the cold rain, his warmth bled through his wet clothing. I subconsciously leaned closer to him.

The soldier seemed to hesitate, looking my poor condition over. The way Kazuha spoke was forceful and blunt, as if he didn't trust anyone but himself to handle me. Taking the hint, the Millelith soldier conceded the unspoken argument.

"Alright, sir. Thank you for..." the guard paused, eyeing criminals on the alley ground, "stopping these thieves. This sadly isn't the first incident we've had with these three, but because of you, it'll be the last."

Kazuha and I said our farewells and parted ways with the soldiers. Once we stepped out of the alley and onto the street, I let out a sigh I didn't realize I had been holding in. I was relieved to finally be out of that dark alley, but the tension in the air wasn't gone just yet. Kazuha stopped us and moved himself to face me.

As I was about to question him, he bent his legs and carefully placed his hands under my arms, lifting me into the air. The shock of being picked up made me instinctively wrap my legs around his waist, which was his goal. Kazuha adjusted my position, tucking one arm under my thigh and another around my lower back. His eyes stared past my shoulder and his nose was tucked into my collarbone. This made our chests flush against each other. His wet hair tickled my neck and the side of my face.

The complaint on my tongue quickly disappeared when my body reminded me just how tired I was from the day, and the warmth Kazuha radiated made me relax into him. Tucking my chin over his shoulders, I let out another content sigh, closing my eyes and letting him carry me through the rain and back to our inn.

---

The atmosphere back at the inn was heavy, as I had predicted. Kazuha immediately carried me into the bathroom upon entering our room. Words had not yet been exchanged since we left the alley. I sat on the counter next to the sink while Kazuha unpacked our first-aid kit. Using a cloth, he wiped the blood from my arm. Once he felt my arm was clean, he held the cloth to my wound.

"Hold it there for a bit," he ordered.

Our nurse on the Alcor always took care of our injured, but I thought it made sense that Kazuha knew how to treat wounds while watching him prepare to stitch my arm. He was a traveler before all else. There was no one around to care for his wounds but himself in the wild.

Kazuha moved away from the counter and grabbed a towel, handing it to me.

"I'll be as gentle as possible, but this will hurt," my current nurse frowned. "Try not to move too much, (Y/N)."

I nodded, relaxing my arm and turning my head away. It was hard not to whimper as the needle passed through my skin, but I stayed still in order to make things easier for him. I could tell he really was trying his best to make it less painful. His skilled hands didn't make any unnecessary movements, and he was fast when piercing through the wound. My thoughts drifted off while I tugged on the towel and waited for Kazuha to finish.

I wondered what he was thinking this entire time. Was he mad at me for staying out and causing him trouble? I promised myself I'd wash his clothes since I was ultimately the one at fault for making them wet and bloody. It was no secret that Kazuha was more introverted, but his behavior now wasn't a side he's ever shown me before. There was complete silence as he worked, focusing on stitching the cut on my arm properly. The samurai was never easy to read, but at this moment it felt even more impossible than usual. I wanted him to open up to me, I wanted to know everything about him—his feelings, his worries, his past. I wished that he would spend hours telling me every detail about himself. It was frustrating being stuck on the outside, forbidden from knowing any of his thoughts.

"It shouldn't leave too much of a scar," his voice cut through the silence, startling me. Once again, he wiped my arm clean of any remaining blood, then wrapped it tightly with bandages. I could tell it would be tender for a while.

Kazuha brought his attention to the throbbing side of my face. A fresh, warm cloth softly cleaned my face from the dirt and blood. His face was close to mine, yet he still managed to dance around my eyes.

"Kazuha." I tried.

He completely ignored me and continued to place bandages on my cheek. There was a slight stinging sensation from the medicine he applied, but it was much more bearable than the stitches.

"Kazuha—"

"I warned you not to stay out, (Y/N)," Kazuha spoke. A sigh fell from his lips as he pulled away, reaching back into the first-aid kit for another bandage. "I told you it would rain."

His face was locked in the same serious expression. The frown wasn't the same forgiving one I usually received with his lectures. It was heavy and added to the guilty feeling that was pooling in my stomach.

He busied himself by applying another bandage to my face. Once the tips of his fingers brushed my skin, however, I felt a strange tickle from them. Although it was barely noticeable, Kazuha's fingers had begun to shake.

"Nature has always communicated with me, but that doesn't make me invincible. I've lost many people in my life, even with my senses. What if I had been too late reaching you, (Y/N)? By the time I arrived, I could tell that woman seriously intended to..." he trailed off. Emotion had begun leaking through his voice. His concern for me, his anger towards my assailants, the sorrow he carried from his past. It was all hard to detect, but it was there nonetheless.

"I should have never agreed to let you leave my side. I should have known better." Kazuha's eyes had long since fallen from my cheek and down to my lap. I couldn't stand listening to him blame himself for my decisions.

"If I had—"

"Kazuha!"

He fell silent as my hands cupped his face and forced him to finally meet my eyes, which were wide and trying to hold back tears as they stared into his glassy red ones. Kazuha was visibly caught off-guard by this. Through the blurriness in my eyes, I watched his serious expression crack into one of sadness. He mirrored my actions, cupping my face. His fingers swiped beneath my eyes.

"Please, don't cry."

My hands fell from his face to loosely hold onto his wrists. Big drops fell from my eyes, only to be caught by his loving hands.

"I'm sorry, Kazuha," I cried. His lips were slightly parted and his face held the most caring expression I've ever seen. His sadness was a gentle one, one only saved for those he genuinely cherished. It just made me cry harder. "I'm sorry I made you worry about me... Please, don't blame yourself for my mistakes. None of this was your fault."

I let him wipe my tears while I mumbled apologies. The adrenaline from the incident had long since worn off, but it was only the man in front of me who was able to cause the state I was in. I loved him from the bottom of my heart.

My cheeks were red and puffy from the emotion Kazuha pulled out from me. I reached behind my spot on the counter to grab the gift I bought for him. The velvet was mostly still wet, but not much could be done about it except time. I set the dripping pouch down on my lap for him to see.

"This... is the reason I was out." I held it up for him to take.

He slowly reached for it, wrapping his fingers delicately around his present. Kazuha looked up into my eyes as if he wanted to say something, but decided to stay silent and went back to the object in his hands. Slipping the wooden charm smoothly out of the pouch, he inspected the two colorful ribbons tied around it. His fingers untied his vermillion ribbon and lightly rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. Equally red eyes stared into mine, silently asking a question.

"I know your time with us as part of the Crux Fleet is temporary," I began. "Travelers are called so for a reason. It can't be expected that we will be together for a long time, but still," my voice felt thick with emotion thinking about Kazuha leaving the Crux Fleet. If I had it my way, I would follow the wandering samurai anywhere he asked. "But still, I don't want to be a temporary memory. I want you to always have something to remember our time together by. I saw these ribbons at the Mingxing Jewelry shop on our way here... I thought they would be nice hair accessories. The red one matches that streak in your hair," I weakly chuckled. "I got the (color) one for myself."

Kazuha's eyes were wide now, surprised at my confession and the meaning behind the two ribbons he held. He handed me the red ribbon intended for him and turned around to give me access to his ponytail. I took the hint and tied it over the band that held his soft white hair in place.

When he turned around, the (color) ribbon was removed from the charm and hung limply in his hands. A smile graced his lips and his eyes were lidded. Kazuha always had nice eyes, but his eyelashes were especially beautiful. They were long and dark and curled perfectly to frame his kind red irises. A delicate hand took mine and lifted it between the two of us. My cheeks grew warm as I watched him tie the (color) ribbon intended for my hair around my ring finger. When he was done, he raised my other hand to be held in his.

Kazuha had a way of making my heart race with the softest of touches. Sitting on a bathroom counter, facing the person I loved as he tied a pretend ring on my finger was enough to send me halfway to Celestia. His thumbs began to trace over my own hands in his.

"Just as the sun remembers to rise, the seasons of Teyvat will remember to change. Winter carries its cold chill, killing each leaf on the tree. The tree is blessed with the new life and purpose brought by Spring. Summer's heat tests the will of the tree and its determination to protect what it has been given." Kazuha's voice was filled with affection as he spoke these words. "As long as the maples leaves of Autumn continue to turn red from love, I promise that I'll never forget you, (Y/N)."

Kazuha slowly brought his face closer to mine until his lips brushed over my own. My head tilted as I let my eyes close, completely giving myself to him. His lips were soft as they gave me the gentlest kiss I've ever received in my life. The passion behind his words and actions filled my heart, and any trace of the sadness shared between us earlier was completely gone.

He leaned his body closer to mine in order to deepen the kiss. The feeling of his lips against mine quickly became addicting. I wrapped my uninjured arm around his shoulders and began to play with his hair, messy from the day's events. It was strange how contrasting Kazuha felt. At times, he was utterly unreadable, not letting a hint of his thoughts or feelings slip out. But now, Kazuha had nothing to hide as he kissed me. The love I felt from him was genuine and pure.

I didn't let him go far when he broke the kiss. Keeping my arm tossed around his neck, I rested my forehead against his.

"I love you, Kaedehara Kazuha." I felt warm all over being so close to him. Kazuha pecked my lips in response.

"And I, you, (Y/N)."

[spasmsofthought]

flashes. (dick grayson x reader)

I’m not really well-versed in DC, at all, but I wanted to give this a shot. let me know what you think! It’s a bit of a mess, so please take this with a grain of salt and some grace. sorry if he feels ooc; I tried my best but I am by no means an expert or even an amateur. please be kind. idk if i’ll write anymore for him, but i wanted to try. it might be trash but it’s out there now xo

-- 

It’s not like Gotham is known for being a walk in the park. The city is all alleys in the middle of the night, dark vapors rising from sewers, and secrets in the shadows. At least, in your experience. 

There were no gated communities or fences to keep the darkness out in the apartment complex you lived in with your family. Only survival and common sense keeps you returning to your bed and food on the table.

So, when your younger (genius) brother is offered a scholarship to Gotham Academy on what feels like a whim, the world shifts. 

When your mother still works, though, it means you are the de-facto adult during the day. Your job keeps your busy in the mornings, hers during the afternoon and night. You’re just getting into learning what it’s like to handle a job and bills of your own, even though you’re still living with your family (part of it is to save money, part of it is because you just don’t want to leave). Your family is the only real home you have ever known. Why leave to only find inadequate housing where you have to worry about your safety and theirs separately?

So, like every month, you swap out of your work clothes, put on your newest (at least 2 years old) pair of jeans on, the only blouse you own that hasn’t faded or stretched or shrunk from countless wash cycles, and grab the bag you’ve stored in its own special place in the cabinet by your family’s loud, old, run-down fridge. 

You chance a ride on the bus, hopeful for no public catastrophes today. You listen to your small, but loved, playlist through the one earbud that works during the ride and you almost want to leap with joy when you step back down on concrete like this is what it is like everyday.

The architecture is a thing to behold. There is no wonder why this is acclaimed as the most prestigious private school in Gotham. Light is everywhere, and it’s like the outside world doesn’t exist. Every month you step on this campus it’s like you’ve never seen it before.

The grounds are meticulously groomed, everything in lines and straight edges. Concrete and nineteenth century buildings both cast heavy, sharp shadows in the late afternoon sun. There are some students lingering about, all grouped up and chattering in their similar uniforms. Compared to public art, haphazard graffiti, and buildings of all shapes and sizes, this place feels foreign. Different. It makes you feel strange and unwelcome; like entering a different world altogether. 

When you enter the pristine, elegant office, the entrance door propped open, there’s two figures you immediately spot: the secretary and the man standing in front of her. Your brother is yet to be found. He’s running late again. 

“Hi, hun, take a seat,” Grace’s sweet voice soothes from her position behind the desk. “He should be here any minute.” The man standing in front and a little to the right of her glances behind for second, casually swiping a look at you, before he turns forward again. 

“Thanks, Grace,” You exhale as you sit down. 

The chairs are nice, soft fabric and cushioned, but small. You so desire to bring up a leg to draw close to you, but it’s impossible without making yourself a human pretzel. And you don’t want to dirty it with your less than perfect shoes so, instead, you chose to bring the bag onto your lap and you pick at your cuticles, resisting to bring your nail to your mouth and chew on it anxiously. 

There’s never been anyone else in here when you’ve come before. Grace can make polite chatter, but then she leaves you in relative silence. It makes you feel anonymous. The man uttering sweet words to the secretary and then glancing at you again before sitting down next to you does not. You stop fidgeting with your hands and intertwine them together instead. 

A flash of the ceiling’s fluorescent lighting on glass against your eyes is what you first get a taste of, then all polish and silver, or something like it, cradling a wrist. The watch looks heavy, expensive. It looks like it could buy your family a newer, safer, apartment in a suburbia far away from here. 

“Hey,” Smooth as honey it drips out, and you are drawn to blue eyes and ebony hair. There’s a softness to his face and his eyes are warm. It would only take an hour, you think before you stop the thought from going any further. An hour to do what? You’re not sure, but the list expands the longer you take him in.

The first thing you ever learned on the streets when you walked by yourself to work was how to be aware, vigilant; on guard. Men were unpredictable creatures who were driven by greed or lust or power, and any of the good ones were swooped up and carried away to better things or dead before any second glances could take place. Or carrying on just fine behind their high fences and impenetrable walls. Just because this one introduces himself first does not mean he has proven otherwise. 

“Hi,” is all you can offer, a quirk of lips to his gesture of kindness.

You glance towards to door before your eyes make their way back to him. The gesture doesn’t offend him. There’s a familiarity to his face, but you decide to not spend time right now trying to figure it out. It already only tells you one thing: this guy is way out of your league. 

Grace gets up from her seat, rounds her desk, and makes her way out of the office, leaving you two alone. You watch her the entire time. 

“You waiting for someone?” 

“Yeah,” You nod even as the word comes out, “My brother.” 

He leans back like he’s got all the time in the world, and there’s a perusal that makes you taste butterflies and gulp down caution at the same time. You wonder if he saw the scuff marks and stains on your worn-out sneakers, or if he notices that you still haven’t had the chance to wash your three-day old hair and that’s why it’s up and back, and that your blouse is definitely from the clearance rack at Goodwill.

“Your favorite one?” 

Out of self-preservation, you try to hide the reaction to the humor you feel, “My only one.”

“I think that’s the same thing.” You almost want to roll your eyes. But there’s a genuineness in his conversation, like he means the words he’s saying to you. Like this isn’t a game. 

“Sure,” You shrug, “You’re allowed to be wrong.” 

“My name’s Richard.” It’s old-fashioned. It’s something you don’t really hear rolled off of tongues in your neck of the woods, that’s for sure. A hand comes out and rests halfway between you and him, and it’s one of the most graceful things you’ve ever witnessed in your entire life. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” You smile. Your hands stay clasped in your lap. 

“You gotta earn a handshake from my sister,” A voice pops up from the open door way. You swing your head around and watch for a moment as your brother makes his way towards you.

“Hi, J,” Your stand, open your arms wide, bag moved from your lap into one of your hands. His solid presence allows a brief hug before he steps back again. “Sorry, I don’t mean to be rude--” 

The man sitting next to you has chosen to rise as well and you’re closer than you thought you would be when you turn back to him. You notice now that your height means your eyes literally meet his lips straight on. There’s a curve of a smirk there for a flash of a second before it straightens back out into the smile you saw at first. The rest of your sentence is forgotten. He takes one, two, three steps back.

“You got them all?” The question saves you. Your brother pulls you back to him as you hand him the brown plastic bag. In it? His favorite snacks from the liquor store on the corner (the nearly sold-out, hard-to-come-by ones). 

“Every last one,” Your hands come to his cheeks, turning his face to each side.

You have to reach up now and it strikes you just how much he’s grown even in the past month. You both spend much of your time on the phone with one another. These monthly meetings set-up frequently enough for deliveries and some quick face-to-face time and seldom enough to avoid embarrassment (that’s what he says anyway). 

He brings the chip bag out and holds it up, “You even got these.” 

“Geraldo got them special order just for you.” 

“Tell the old man I said thanks,” He smiles like he’s seven again, spoiled and self-indulgent. “Richard” is still standing behind you and to the side, silent. You can feel his eyes flipping back and forth between the two of you. 

“Of course,” Your hands smooth over his shoulders and brush away imaginary dust. “Mom sends her love and says she’ll try and call you on her lunch in a few hours.” 

“Yeah, I know. I’ll make sure I answer.” 

“Thank you.” You exhale an affectionate sigh. 

Avoidant loner that your brother can be, there’s a reason you both want him here. He’ll be able to do the things you only dreamed of when you were his age. And one day, hopefully, you’ll all be out of this hellhole, onto better things. 

“I gotta go, but thanks for these. Even though you should be saving every penny,” He chides, holding up a finger like his words are somehow a threat. 

“Okay,” You chortle like you wouldn’t give everything up for your brother in a heartbeat. There’s another quick hug before he’s looking back at the man behind you, who is still standing there like some sort of stealth ninja. 

“Like I said man,” He nods and there’s something in his face that changes as he looks at “Richard”, “You gotta earn it.” 

It’s with those parting words that he begins to walk out. You stay stock still for a second before you leap after him, “I wanna hear all about what happened last week with Cara tomorrow on the phone!” 

Your brother, a mile away already on longs legs, shouts something indistinguishable back at you from down the hallway, his figure turning a corner.  

“Who’s Cara?” The voice brings your back to reality. 

You sweep your palms against your jeans and turn back to face the man with a three-piece suit and a watch that probably costs more than 20 years of your salary. Oh God. 

“This girl my brother asked out the other week. I bribed him with some of his favorites so he would tell me what went down.” You shrug your shoulders, not worried about spilling the tea about your brother’s romantic life. 

“Does he know that?” His arms seem to relax a little more and you think you could stare at him all day. 

“Eh,” You say, creeping back towards the open door. Your small crossbody bag is already on you and there’s no reason to sit back down. Richard follows you as you, apparently, both start to make your exit from the office. Nothing about it feels unnatural. “Sometimes you got to persuade instead of demand.” 

“Ha,” There seems to be something you are missing based on the way his mouth curves and his eyes spark, “That’s the truest thing I’ve heard in a long time.” 

“You’re welcome. That’s the only one that comes for free!” Your arms swing back and forth. “Anything else is gonna cost you.” 

The hallways usually feel like a labyrinth here, but you don’t feel lost this time. 

“What forms of payment do you accept?” You pretend to be thinking, but really you’re just glancing between the different features of his face. You’re not sure you’ve ever met someone like him. You’re not sure you ever will again.  

“The bank’s closed right now, actually,” The wariness is back. This guy walks like he’s used to treading on perfectly paved gold streets in his shoes. All you’ve ever known is cracked cement and rusted pipes that burst underground. “But I think it’ll be back up and running soon.” 

He doesn’t falter and there’s no anger or hurt in his expression at the metaphorical rejection. Instead, it looks something like silent patience. Maybe even acceptance. This guy could totally not be interested and you could just be being (too) ambitious. The door to the open courtyard, and your way home, is already before you both. 

“It was nice meeting you Richard,” You say as you begin to take steps forward. Your hands nervously hold the strap across your torso. You take a few more steps before his words turn your head back to him. 

“You can call me Dick,” He says with ease. The tone makes you feel like he’s speaking a language you don’t really understand. His blue eyes seem like they’re on fire; a contradiction, you know. There’s something about him that almost makes you catch your breath. You’ve never been been winded by just looking before. 

“Maybe I’ll see you around.” You offer, hands squeezing your bag strap. 

“I look forward to earning that handshake next time!” He calls out when you’re several feet away. 

I think you’ll earn a lot more than that, you almost say, but refrain. 

Instead, you wave back to him once before making your way out of the courtyard, caught between staring at your shoes and looking ahead to make sure you’re going to right way. You smile and daydream the entire bus ride home. Blue becomes your favorite color. 

[marvels-agents100]

the keeper of horae

spring

seasons change, but he never does

pairing: aaron hotchner x gender neutral ! reader

warnings: fluffy soft hotch

word count: 1,775

author’s note: this is it, kids ! im sad to see this series end, but i will be grateful for its existence, not mourning over its loss. aaron might seem a lil ooc, simply because in this universe he and the reader are very ~ poetic ~ so,,,, yeah. enjoy, thank you joining me on this journey

The conference room was silent, empty of life besides Aaron, who gently took the official crime scene photos off of the evidence board. The lines below his eyes ran deeply, his shoulders weighed down by the pure exhaustion that coursed through his veins. A soft click echoed from the door, his eyes dragging lazily to see who had entered the room. He could only muster a small smile when he saw it was you.

“The rest of the team is already back at the hotel,” you said quietly, your hands intertwining behind your back, “how are you doing, boss? I can handle this, if you want to go get some sleep.”

“I’ll be okay,” he answered quietly, turning back towards the mostly empty cork board, “you should rest.”

Your teeth gnawed on your lower lip for a moment, mind contemplating your next question, “Can I show you something?”

His gaze found you once more, eyebrows pulling together, “What is it?”

“It’s a ten minute drive,” you explained, “but, I can promise you won’t regret it.”

He held you in his stare for a second, trying in vain to pull any nonverbal clues as to what you were talking about. When no hints were visible, he let out a small sigh, “Alright, okay.”

The drive was silent, the sun beginning to settle into the mountains as you reached your destination.

You exited the car, Aaron not far behind you, and walked off of the dirt road. He was on your heels, not once questioning where you led him. You looked back and offered your hand with a small smile, his steps faltering slightly, before he reached and interlocked his palm with yours. You tugged him along by his arm, your forward focus missing the blissed smile that graced his lips.

You finally reached the small hill; the hill whose west side was covered in vibrant wildflowers, facing directly at the setting sun. Releasing Aaron’s hand, you walked into the flowers and sat yourself in the midst of their color, legs crossing as your eyes stared at the yellow and orange that painted the sky. He followed your actions, shoulder brushing yours as he settled into the ground, legs stretched in front of him and palms leaning on the earth behind him.

He looked at the land around him; flowers dancing in the breath of spring, their lively hues bringing the promise of sunshine and occasional soft, warm rain. He breathed in deeply, letting the smell of honey and lavender overwhelm him, the wind carrying the fragrance of the blooming petals beneath it.

“Spring is my favorite season,” you spoke softly, your words being carried by the breeze, “it always reminds me of how alive our earth is.”

He hummed in response, eyes skimming over the pink that reflected off of the clouds.

“Why did you bring me here?” He questioned, his voice low and soft.

You looked to him, studying the way the sun reflected in his honeycomb irises, “This case was a bad one.”

His gaze met yours, “It was.”

“You said once that you had begun to see the beauty of this world,” you nearly whispered, “I figured you would need to witness some of that beauty after this week.”

Eyes jumping between yours, the corner of his lips twitched upwards, “Thank you.”

You nodded once before looking back to the falling sun, it’s rays reaching desperately to cling to the clouds. The flowers surrounding you perfumed the air, carding through your hair and embracing you completely. A content sigh escaped you, a smile settling on your face.

His eyes never left you, tracing over the slope of your nose and the minuscule curl of your lips. He memorized the way your hair seemed to glow in the orange light of the sun, the way your eyelashes brushed delicately against the wind, the way your shoulders relaxed as you took in the scenery surrounding you. He wanted to commit every detail of you to memory, just so he could look upon you when you were absent. But, the more he tried, the more he realized- you were already there, living in his thoughts. 

He could remember the way the snowflakes landed on your eyelashes and reddened your nose as he wrapped his scarf around your neck, or the way the ocean sparkled light into your eyes as you told him how you confessed your secrets to the sea, or how your skin glowed next to the golden leaves that surrounded you, his scarf once again draped upon your shoulders. He didn’t need to remember every hair and freckle and wrinkle and dimple- he already knew them, he already knew you.

“I don’t need the world’s beauty,” he confessed, the words tumbling from his mind to his mouth before he had a chance to hold them back. You looked to him, head tilting in confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean- I just,” he sighed, closing his eyes momentarily to collect himself, “This world is bright, it’s beautiful, and it took me a long time to realize that,” he looked towards the sun, “the sun shines it’s light down upon us, whether we deserve it or not.” He looked back to you, your eyebrows raised in curiosity, “You helped me see it. I was so focused on the night, that I never saw the stars.”

Your cheeks began to redden.

“But, my love,” he continued, “none of this beauty can compare to the beauty within you.”

You took a shaky breath in, willing the tears glistening your eyes to go away.

“Aaron Hotchner, are you calling me pretty?” You chuckled, your voice coming out watery and wavering.

He let out a small laugh, “I am,” his smile remained, “but not just in how you look, but who you are.”

Your hand quickly wiped at the droplet that trailed down your cheek, eyes blinking to prevent any further losses. “You’re making me cry,” you joked.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his thumb reaching forward and delicately brushing your cheekbone.

You sniffled, “You deserve to see it, the light this world has. You’ve lived in darkness and pain for so long.”

“And now, because of you,” he held onto your cheek, “I can believe that.”

Your eyes searched his face, your head leaning into his touch. 

“I always talk about the seasons,” you begin, “how each one is uniquely captivating,” your hand came to rest upon his, “and I always mention the sun, moon, and stars, how they’re constant and beautiful and wonderful.”

You broke his stare for just a moment, collecting your courage before looking at his warm honey eyes once again.

“It’s always been you, Aaron, you are my sun, my moon, and all of my stars. You are my winter, summer, autumn, and spring. You are every breeze that brushes the leaves, every petal the flowers grow. You’re every drop of rain, every ray of sunshine. Hell, Aaron, you are the words that fill the pages of my story, and I wouldn’t ever want to change that.”

He could feel the tear roll down his cheek, tracing along his dimples and dripping from his chin. He breathed, trying to ground the sudden dizziness that overwhelmed his head- probably from his heart beating far too rapidly- before speaking.

“I am completely and utterly in love with you,” he whispered, voice wavering slightly.

A wide, uncontrollable smile took over your face, your arms reaching to latch on around his neck, your body colliding into his as you let yourself fall into his arms. Your face rested in his neck, your giggles muffled by his skin.

“I can’t believe this is real,” you spoke against his pulse, “please tell me this is real, not just a dream.”

“You’re awake, love,” he whispered into your hair, back landing on the ground as he pulled you impossibly closer. 

Your head lifted, face hovering above his. You admired how the wildflowers adorned him, the foliate creating a crown around his head. His eyes were still golden and soft, staring at you with a look of adoration. You hand brushed along his cheek, thumb grazing his bottom lip.

“Can I kiss you?” Your whispered, your words no more than a breath, their only listener being the man before you and the blossoms surrounding him.

“Always.”

Your head dipped slowly, giving plenty opportunity to put an end to everything before it had even started, but he gave no complaint as you inched closer to him. His eyes fluttered shut, hands reaching your cheeks, your breath upon his lips. You paused, lips brushing against his, letting yourself smile just one last time before finally reaching him.

His lips connected to yours with a soft passion, a sigh leaving his chest as he gripped onto your cheek. Your fingers wrapped around the hair along the nape of his neck, a satisfied groan escaping him. Pulling you closer, he refused to let you go, despite his hungry lungs.

The way your lips felt against his just made him fall further. He decided then, while kissing you in a field of flowers as the sunset watched, that he would do anything for you. If the stars ceased to exist, he would hang each individual light just to fill your eyes with wonder. If the clouds fell from the sky, he would spend a lifetime painting them back onto the sunlight, just to see you smile at them once more. If all the blossoms shriveled and died, he would summon the April showers just to make the May flowers grow. If you chose to dance in the rain, he would dance alongside you, with joy in your smiles and daisies in your hair. You had planted a seed in his heart as the snow fell to the ground, and now, in the middle of Spring, your seed had become a garden.

You pulled away from him, despite your mind’s protests. Lips still brushing against his, your chest heaved slightly to make up for lost air.

“Promise me,” you said breathlessly, “promise you’ll never stop kissing me like that, you’ll never stop loving me like this.”

“I promise, on everything I am,” he swore, just as winded as you.

Your lips met his again, but pulled away after a moment.

“I love you too, by the way,” you giggled.

He laughed, a full laugh that crinkled the corners of his eyes and nearly burst your swollen heart.

And you knew. You knew he would keep his promise, you knew he would love you endlessly. 

You knew that your love was just a bud, and would only continue to grow.

taglist:

@quillvine​ @winterscaptain​

[blue-lions-baby]

Home (Dimitri x Reader)

hey so it's been a *hot* minute since my last upload LOL

this is my first time writing a dimitri x reader, so i apologize if he’s a bit ooc! regardless, i hope you enjoy~

~*~

The warm sun trickled through the holes in the leaves, dancing on the exposed parts of your skin. The greenery and foliage cradling your sprawled out frame acted as Mother Nature's softest bed, each individual strand of grass and vein of fallen leaf cushioning your sensitive bits.

You inhaled deeply; if peace had a smell, it would be the crispness of the afternoon air, balanced out by the slightly damp fragrance of the remaining dew evaporating from the day's hazy beginnings. A symphony of different sounds buzzed and hummed all about you; students walking and chattering with their fellow schoolmates, a few guard dogs barking in the distance, the birds perched above you and elsewhere whistling a sweet tune-- Every whisper, every howl of the wind added more and more depth to this lovely concerto.

"Care if I join?"

That peace was momentarily shattered.

Your heart performed a routine of leaps and twirls as the dignified voice of a certain blonde royal seemed to have pressed pause on your favorite song. Despite knowing very well who was talking, your eyes cracked open a sliver to see the handsome prince looking down at you happily.

"S-Sure!" You stuttered (mentally cursing yourself for that little slip-up) and patted the empty patch of grass beside you. He nodded gratefully and gingerly laid his books and slightly disheveled bundles of paper in a neat pile before joining you. He took a deep breath and his eyes fluttered closed, his taut jaw slowly relaxing into an open-mouthed grin.

"This is absolutely lovely, (F/N). I see why you like to lounge around here during breaks."

"Y-Yeah." Goddess, get it together! He's just your classmate! A fellow peer! Your friend! Your really handsome, chivalrous, gentle, Goddess he's so cute... Friend! "Um... So why are you here?"

That--... That wasn't... That sounded way worse than you intended it to be. Immediately recognizing your error, you shot up and bowed your head deeply, a surge of red and heat plastering the surface of your cheeks.

"I-I'm so sorry! I didn't mean for it to come off like that, I was just-- Um, well--"

A hearty laugh ceased your garbled apologies; You felt yourself slowly melting as his warm, heavenly laughter bounced around your skull, rocking any coherent thought out of your brain. He waved it off and shook his head.

"No harm done. To answer your question, I always see you sprawled out on the courtyard on nice, sunny days such as today... I figured I should give it a try myself," he closed his eyes again, "it's a truly wonderful experience. I feel like I can just drift off and forget all my troubles, at least for a little while..."

Troubles? Well, being a house leader surely comes with its fair share of extra burdens and responsibilities. Not only does he have to uphold his regular duties as a student, but he also has a country to run-- he's a prince, after all. The livelihood of his people and the expectations of the crown would crumple anyone of weak constitution. So much is put on his shoulders at just the ripe age of 17.

But strangely, you couldn’t help but feel that somehow his ‘troubles’ ran deeper than just the regular anxieties of a student... Or even a prince. Despite the gentlemanly air he usually has about him, there’s something... just, something...  lurking beneath the surface; it was only a matter of time before--

"Well, (F/N)? Would you still care to join me on this relaxing afternoon?" He patted the impression left by your body on the grass and smiled warmly. You felt your heart skip a couple beats at his gentle expression; with a quick nod, you joined your house leader lounged out on the courtyard lawn.

Surely you’re just overthinking this. Dimitri is the sweetest person you’ve ever met. He’s thoughtful, unbelievably polite, kind...

The kind, picturesque smile he flashed at you mere seconds ago shone brightly at the forefront of your mind and you were content to just relish in this precious moment of peace that was granted to you. Your throbbing heart eventually found a comfortable pace and once again a wave of tranquility washed over you. You both remained in comfortable silence, either of you simply living in the moment and taking a second to breathe from mind-numbing study sessions and arduous training that filled up your schedules otherwise.

The gentle light pouring through the trees started to turn blurry and your vision shifted in and out of focus. You made a small noise as you stretched, feeling days’ worth of tension in your body slowly funnel out of your muscles. You rolled over onto your side, facing the prince.  

Dimitri's head lazily lolled to face you and he caught your sleepy gaze. You weakly smiled back at him, and if you were just a little bit more awake, your brain would have just enough capacity to catch how quickly (and deeply) his cheeks were turning scarlet. He moved onto his side as well, inevitably rolling closer to you. The faint smell of vanilla emanating from the male hugged your senses comfortingly, and the faces of your family and everyone you loved permeated your thoughts-- Happy, peaceful memories that you held close to your heart.

You scooted closer to him, practically burying your face in his chest. The steady pounding of his heart lulled you further to pure serenity, and soon, you were taken up by sleep’s gentle arms and whisked away into a world where all was right. But as the last shreds of consciousness slowly fell out of your grasp, you mumbled a quiet,

“You smell like home...”

Dimitri (whose eyes were just as quickly closing) looked upon your sleeping face one last time, pure love and adoration boring into your adorable features. He reached up his hand to your face and lovingly grazed a few stray strands of hair from your forehead before brushing the softest kiss on your temple. His arm traveled down to wrap limply about your hip, where he pulled you ever closer to him. He hoped and prayed that that simple action would be enough to convey all the love he’s held for you since the day you’ve met.

“My dearest, you are home...”

*bonus: sylvain (unfortunately) was the first of the blue lions to stumble across you two. did he tell the rest of the lions? yup. were you and dimitri teased beyond your wits the following day? definitely.

[selectedhq]

oh  ,  wonderful  !  welcome  welcome  ,  let’s  get  this  show  on  the  road  ,  shall  we  ?  not  like  we  have  the  rest  of  our  afterlife  to  dwell  upon  ,  am  i  right  ?

well  ,  i  would  like  to  officially  welcome  you  to  the  good  place  .  i’m  sure  you  are  all  wondering  why  you  are  here  ,  but  we  will  get  more  into  that  later  as  we  experience  the  afterlife  as  a  whole  .  take  a  look  around  ,  these  are  your  neighbours  ,  friends  ,  significant  others  &  your  community  members  .  during  your  time  on  earth  ,  all  of  us  here  at  the  good  place  ,  had  taken  it  upon  ourselves  to  watch  you  carefully  &  take  careful  consideration  in  picking  you  ,  specifically  .  we  have  our  own  point  system  ,  which  you  will  see  on  the  screen  behind  us  ,  where  you  would  gain  simple  points  such  as  holding  a  door  for  someone  or  handing  some  money  to  someone  that  was  less  fortunate  as  you  .  we  did  track  some  of  the  negative  things  that  you  have  done  in  your  life  ,  but  they  ----  usually  balanced  out  the  good  .  the  overall  existence  of  this  place  was  built  with  you  and  for  you  ,  you  were  chosen  for  a  purpose  &  we  hope  that  purpose  will  become  clear  to  you  during  your  stay  here  .  now  ,  we  shall  begin  with  the  briefings  .

LOCATIONS

i’m  sure  that  you  have  noticed  that  this  place  is  quite  large  !  we  have  many  establishments  throughout  this  town  &  they  were  all  made  to  fit  the  likings  of  our  fellow  community  members  .

𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐓  𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄

where  you  will  find  a  lot  of  marine  life  and  water  .  i’m  sure  that  many  of  you  who  have  enjoyed  water  during  your  time  on  earth  have  found  yourselves  situated  in  a  home  directed  that  way  .  you  will  find  canoes  and  row  boats  that  will  allow  you  to  enjoy  some  peace  on  the  lake  ,  as  well  as  a  beautiful  waterfall  just  around  the  bend  .  while  here  ,  we  encourage  you  to  take  a  look  around  the  ponds  ,  we  have  some  amazing  fish  that  would  love  to  have  some  of  the  food  that  is  sold  in  the  downtown  area  .  we  also  encourage  you  to  take  a  nice  hike  up  the  waterfall  ,  with  a  cliff  right  off  to  the  right  .  once  you  hit  the  destination  ,  maybe  have  a  wonderful  picnic  with  a  loved  one  or  try  some  cliff  diving  if  you  were  much  too  frightened  before  on  earth  .

𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓  𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄  

the  wooden  area  that  many  people  enjoy  when  they  need  some  peace  and  quiet  .  there  are  a  few  households  within  this  neighbourhood  ,  usually  selected  for  people  who  enjoyed  the  seclusion  and  warmth  of  being  connected  to  nature  .  our  local  greenhouses  are  kept  up  there  ,  you  can  find  some  wonderful  plants  that  you  could  take  home  or  take  a  few  selfies  with  the  help  of  kimmy  to  hang  up  in  your  home  .  we  also  have  the  community  garden  out  that  way  ,  where  you  can  grow  your  own  vegetables  or  even  help  gather  some  ingredients  for  the  restaurants  as  some  extra  credit  options  towards  gaining  more  points  (  yes  ,  you  can  still  gain  them  here  !  )  .  we  have  a  few  trails  within  this  area  as  well  ,  where  you  can  feel  one  on  one  with  nature  once  again  ,  where  the  sun  will  beat  on  your  face  ;  you  can  practically  hear  the  bugs  buzzing  around  you  !

𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇  𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄

where  many  of  you  may  usually  find  yourselves  ,  it  allows  itself  to  be  integrated  with  the  downtown  area  just  behind  you  .  you’ll  be  able  to  see  the  large  households  that  are  within  that  area  ,  where  many  of  our  community  members  are  staying  ,  either  by  their  lonesome  or  with  someone  they  believe  to  be  close  to  them  .  in  the  north  side  ,  you’ll  find  a  lot  of  educational  things  ,  including  our  school  for  the  afterlife  .  the  school  is  still  working  out  some  last  minute  kinks  alongside  our  trusty  kimmy  ,  but  will  be  up  &  running  within  the  next  week  ,  so  make  sure  that  you  take  some  time  to  visit  the  campus  &  take  a  good  look  at  the  classes  that  will  be  offered  .  we  would  love  to  keep  you  educated  on  things  around  the  good  place  during  your  stay  here  .  while  school  can  be  quite  boring  ,  i’m  sure  we  can  rope  you  all  into  attending  with  the  small  bribery  of  flying  !  you  have  all  witnessed  it  briefly  during  our  halloween  event  ,  but  we  will  be  having  mandatory  flying  lessons  for  everyone  who  joins  the  school  in  the  beautiful  courtyard  out  back  .  you  like  gymnastics  ?  well  we  can  find  you  some  balance  beams  .  football  ?  well  what  is  the  afterlife  without  some  tackling  ?  cheerleading  ?  well  you’re  in  for  a  treat  because  i  sure  would  love  to  hear  some  fun  rhymes  !  you  name  it  ,  we  got  it  .

𝐒𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐇  𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄

is  currently  under  construction  ,  so  we  do  ask  that  you  avoid  that  area  at  this  moment  .  the  weather  is  not  corresponding  correctly  to  the  systems  we  have  put  into  place  &  we  definitely  do  not  want  a  mix  up  with  any  of  you  .  so  please  ,  we  ask  that  you  do  not  move  past  the  colourful  rainbow  tape  that  is  surrounding  the  south  side  until  the  construction  of  that  area  is  done  .  we  are  working  very  diligently  to  get  it  up  &  running  as  i  am  sure  many  of  you  are  hoping  to  find  yourself  located  in  that  wing  !

𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐍  

the  place  that  you  will  always  find  yourself  wanting  to  come  !  we  have  a  little  bit  of  this  &  a  little  bit  of  that  for  everyones  liking  .  there  are  local  restaurants  around  town  that  will  serve  you  anything  that  you  could  dream  of  !  many  of  which  could  be  your  favourite  meals  ,  favourite  drinks  ----  oh  &  did  we  mention  the  endless  options  for  desserts  ?  if  you  look  around  ,  we  also  have  endless  froyo  stations  ;  many  of  which  will  have  flavours  that  create  a  very  similar  feeling  to  joy  &  happiness  .  ever  wonderful  what  it  would  taste  like  after  getting  straight  a’s  on  your  exams  ?  what  about  the  feeling  of  warmth  after  being  outside  in  the  cold  all  day  ?  well  i’m  sure  we  can  mix  up  something  for  you  !  we  also  have  entertainment  sectors  such  as  bars  ,  clubs  ,  even  a  movie  theater  to  play  your  favourite  movies  from  when  you  were  on  earth  !  bookstores  ,  florists  ,  clothing  stores  ,  you  name  it  !  it  may  look  a  bit  confusing  on  the  outside  ,  with  you  questioning  our  tastes  but  we  have  never  questioned  you  &  i  cross  my  heart  that  the  moment  you  walk  into  any  of  our  stores  ,  you  will  always  find  something  tailored  to  your  specific  tastes  !

i  am  sure  that  you  all  have  many  questions  ,  we  are  here  to  always  help  you  !  we  shall  go  over  the  wonderful  rules  that  we  have  in  the  good  place  &  what  is  deemed  appropriate  .

RULES

there  will  be  a  zero  tolerance  violence  policy  .  although  we  do  not  have  the  jurisdiction  within  the  good  place  to  arrest  ,  but  you  will  be  losing  points  with  violence  .  

you  are  free  to  ask  kimmy  any  questions  that  you  deem  necessary  ,  but  they  must  be  appropriate  .  kimmy  will  refuse  to  answer  anything  that  is  not  needed  .

as  stated  earlier  ,  we  will  not  allow  anyone  in  the  south  side  of  the  good  place  at  the  moment  .  if  found  there  ,  you  will  be  brought  into  my  (  michael’s  )  office  &  punishments  will  be  discussed  between  the  architects  .  

WHAT  IS  THERE  TO  DO  ?

well  good  question  !  you  are  able  to  sign  up  for  the  local  school  classes  that  kimmy  will  listen  later  in  the  weekend  ,  we  do  hope  that  we  get  some  good  responses  !  we’ve  worked  hard  to  coordinate  the  classes  !  we  also  allow  you  to  work  in  the  local  agencies  ,  but  please  be  aware  that  money  is  not  a  thing  in  the  good  place  !  you  do  receive  points  towards  your  community  involvement  &  that  will  boost  you  up  on  the  scale  in  the  architects  system  .  we  welcome  you  to  join  the  local  clean  up  group  that  dedicates  themselves  to  cleaning  up  any  possible  garbage  that  is  fluttering  on  the  streets  ,  or  maybe  you  are  interested  in  the  party  planning  committee  ,  which  is  usually  run  by  tahani  but  we  would  love  to  have  more  people  join  &  put  in  their  ideas  !

LITTLE  THINGS  TO  NOTE  

be  aware  that  the  good  place  is  tactical  to  your  needs  &  wants  .  if  you  don’t  enjoy  someone  using  a  curse  word  ,  then  your  mind  will  blank  it  out  &  possibly  replace  it  with  a  new  word  .  if  you  are  fluent  in  another  language  ,  we  have  all  implanted  a  translator  in  your  mind  .  although  someone  might  be  speaking  english  to  you  ,  they  could  actually  be  speaking  french  or  spanish  but  you  are  able  to  translate  it  instantly  .  

housing  units  are  there  for  your  liking  ,  if  you  would  like  to  move  in  with  someone  ,  we  will  allow  that  but  please  run  it  by  kimmy  or  myself  (  michael  )  to  let  us  know  that  you  will  be  moving  so  we  can  use  your  old  home  for  something  enjoyable  for  other  community  members  or  reinvent  it  into  a  new  home  for  someone  that  will  be  joining  us  .

lastly  ,  we  do  not  want  to  overwhelm  you  today  ,  so  if  you  ever  have  any  questions  please  let  kimmy  know  !  kimmy  is  programmed  to  know  every  answer  in  the  universe  &  she  will  be  at  your  beck  &  call  .  all  you  have  to  do  is  call  her  &  she  will  appear  to  answer  anything  that  you  need  .  the  architects  are  quite  busy  making  sure  that  this  place  is  designed  properly  ,  which  allows  kimmy  to  answer  questions  for  us  .  anyways  ,  without  further  ado  ,  please  !  explore  all  the  fun  things  that  are  surrounding  you  ,  we  can’t  wait  to  begin  planning  more  things  !

SOME  OOC  DETAILS

this  plotdrop  isn’t  as  dramatic  as  the  future  ones  will  be  ,  but  we  tried  to  answer  most  of  the  questions  that  have  been  floating  around  !

this  plotdrop  is  to  show  you  the  amount  of  things  that  your  character  can  do  around  town  &  the  jobs  that  they  could  do  if  they  want  to  boost  their  points  (  like  characters  that  don’t  believe  that  they  belong  here  -  they  might  want  to  boost  their  rating  by  helping  around  the  community  )

as  said  !  if  any  characters  or  muns  have  questions  --  ask  kimmy  !  make  sure  that  you  follow  the  blog  for  kimmy  ,  where  you  can  send  messages  to  ask  her  about  things  around  the  good  place  or  questions  about  anything  you  need  to  be  answered  !  she  will  definitely  answer  to  the  best  of  her  ability  ,  it  will  allow  the  architects  to  start  fixing  up  that  nasty  south  side  . 

if  asking  kimmy  a  question  ,  make  sure  that  you  start  the  question  with  ‘hey  kimmy  !’  so  that  she  knows  to  appear  to  answer  the  question  you  type  in  the  askbox.

you  are  welcome  to  continue  your  event  threads  ,  we  just  ask  that  you  don’t  make  any  new  starters  at  the  moment  for  it  .

we  will  also  be  introducing  meme  days  this  weekend  ,  so  definitely  keep  an  eye  out  for  that  one  !

if  you  have  any  questions  that  kimmy  can’t  answer  (  something  ooc  that  could  be  bothering  you  )  then  don’t  hesitate  to  message  the  main  admins  ,  we  will  make  sure  to  help  you  out  !

[velociraptors-dont-lie]

My Way (3)

Summary: Anita’s adventure truly starts.

Warnings: blood? fighting? More swearing? More bad writing and OOcness?

A/N: I. still.hate.this. But imma continue writing it because im not a quitter.

Part one Here, Part Two here

Chapter Three

''We'll rest here for the night''

Anita groaned in relief and dropped to the floor, still cuffed hands going to her red and sore feet. Scamp cooed sadly from his pod and his ears dropped when Anita looked at him. ''I'm okay, sweetheart, promise.''

It got dark in what seemed like no time at all, the sun just under the horizon, and All Anita could hear was the Mandalorian's pained noises. She might've offered to help if she wasn't still distrustful of him, it was only his arm after all and it didn't look too bad.

She'd fed Scamp, gave him a drink and he seemed bored, unable to run about like he was used to doing with his mother. He looked at Anita as she chewed on something she'd stolen from the encampment before looking to the metal man who seemed in pain, deciding to do something about it, Scamp started to fidget.

She saw him moving out of the corner of her eye, saw him drop from out of the pod, and head towards the Mandalorian. Intrigued, she watched Scamp raise his arm and squint his eyes only fearing once the Mandalorian took Scamp's hand and picked him up.

Only to be surprised at his gentle drop into the pod, leaving the child there. So perhaps he wasn't as course and harsh as she first thought him to be, something about Scamp had already wormed its way into his armor, it was only a matter of a time before it reached his heart.

Scamp's second attempt to help yielded the same result, It also had Anita laughing quietly to herself when the man shut the pod with Scamp inside. At least now the little bugger had to sleep.

''I can help with that if you take these off.'' She lifted her hands to show the cuffs ''They're starting to hurt and I promise I won't jump on you again.''

''It's fine''

''It's not fine. It won't get better like that, at least let me clean it.''

He looked at her for a few seconds, debating the options in his head. She hadn't done anything else since arriving out of nowhere except care for the baby. In the end, he relented and released her hands from the cuffs and watched as she took the last of her water and used it to clean his wound.

''You know, that whole situation when I found you was a complete fluke.'' she chuckled to herself mostly as she dabbed his wound dry gently. ''I can't fight at all but you were walking off with my child and I had to do something. Honestly, I didn't think I could take but I was gonna try.''

''You were smart. Avoiding the beskar.''

''Well, I didn't want to break my hand.'' Anita was grinning, checking over the wound for the last time. ''Cause you know I only have two and I need them.''

It was silent again, He didn't reply to her but she had a question on her mind.

''Whoever you're taking him to...'' He turned to face her, the only indication he was looking was that his helmet seemed to bore right into her soul. ''What will they do with me? I'm only on this planet by accident and then Nikto's found me and told me to care for him. I don't-I'm scared.''

Again he was silent, she assumed to try and find an answer that wouldn't make her panic but his silence was doing that already.

''You're his mother. I'm sure they'll keep you around him.''

''And then I need to find a way home!'' Anita looked away, her face scrunched as if trying not to cry. Shuffling away from him. ''But I don't want to leave him but I have to go home, I have godchildren, my friends, my house. I can't stay and I can't take him with me because he's green.''

He was sure Anita would have had a full breakdown if the child hadn't started to cry from within the pod. Anita's ramblings stopped as did the appearance of tears in her eyes when her attention diverted to him Immediately.

She opened the pod and shushed the child, hands either side of the pod and gently rocking it side to side. He stilled in his bed, looking up at her with sad eyes and the beginnings of his own crying fit; The Mandalorian prepared for the loud screams but instead, Anita started to sing.

La la lu, La la lu. Oh, my little star sweeper. I'll sweep the stardust for you. La la lu, La la lu.

She was a good person. He could see that and some part of him didn't want to hand her over to the likes of the client. He saw the love she had for the child, the love the child had for her and he knew she would be devastated when they were separated.

His lie would be found out, she'll hate him but it was a job he had to do. For now, he enjoyed the sound of her soft singing as much as the child.

Little soft fluffy sleeper. Here comes a pink cloud for you. La la lu, La la lu.Little wandering angel Fold up your wings close your eyes

The child had calmed, his eyes drooping down as the familiar song she sung set him off to sleep. The Mandalorian had never heard it but the soft tones that followed on the words were enough to know he'd go the same way as the child did if he wasn't focused on his armor.

La la lu, La la lu And may love be your keeper La la lu, La la lu, La la lu

She closed the pod the instant she finished to protect Scamp from the noises of the Mandalorians fixings. Anita's own eyes dropping closed, the exhaustion of the day reaping the seeds it had sown and there she herself drifted to sleep; forehead pressed against the metal of the pod.

He had gone through her bag while she slept, heavier than he expected to lift. Inside were some familiar items, food packets, water but some were not so familiar. Two rectangles, black on one side and pink and blue on the other.

Wires, one white and the other black. A weird stick, pop off the lid and it smelt...strange and he couldn't place it. Small tubes he assumed was makeup, it did say the words 'Eye' and 'lip' on them.

He kept pulling things out, it wasn't that large of a bag but yet seemed like a black hole of just ...stuff. deciding none of what was inside could be used as a weapon, The Mandalorian placed everything back inside and put the bag back with its owner.

He almost hated to wake her up, to force her closer to the separation she'll experience when they get to Nevarro. She was groggy, her backed ached and her shoulders clicked as she stretched out her arms.

He noticed her feet a long time ago, the way she tried to take small steps and yet keep up with him at the same time while also trying to feed the kid. Walking along the hot floor seemed to hurt her and yet she kept on going, he tried to think if he had any shoes somewhere on the ship for her.

Not that his ship was all that useful at the moment. After walking for a while, Anita stopped behind him as he took the rifle looking weapon from his back, kneeling and pointing it down the ridge at a ship, where some ...small beings were doing something.

''what are they?'' Anita asked as he fired his rifle, disintegrating one of them. ''The small one is your...spaceship?''  

''Jawas'' The Mandalorian fired another shot after reloading, Anita noted the rifle seemed to only use one charge at a time. ''And yes.''

''Manny, your ship looks wrecked.''

After the third kill, the Mandalorian took off running down the small ridge and towards the big fortress the Jawas had retreated into. Anita sighed but ran after him and the pod that followed whether she liked it or not, her feet burning with pain and yet she didn't want to leave Scamp with him.

''You want me to hold your gun, Manny?'' She watched him fire another shot at the moving fortress before he carelessly threw the weapon her way and continued to run after his ship parts.

For a moment, Anita was stood still and struck dumb by how fast he actually gave her the weapon. She assumed his ship was more important than her imaginary mutiny he knew she wouldn't commit.

''Oh he's-okay.''' She ran after the pod, noticing it got too far away and witnessed her only source of life on the planet was trying to climb a moving vehicle. He narrowly missed being throw off by a close wall, and the Jawas started to throw random metal stuff down at him.

Anita continued to keep pace by the pod, the empty gun in her hand. Normally, Anita didn't have trouble running, she was quite fit and enjoyed a run in the mornings; yet her now bleeding feet slowed her down, caused her to bounce each step she took and she was finding it hard to breathe.

Huffing out in relief as the Mandalorian reached the top of the fortress, hoping she didn't have to jump over any more Jawa bodies. Though the relief was short-lived as his visage seemed to glow with blue light before he dropped backward, hitting the ground below with a hard thunk.

Anita cringed as he hit the ground, the pod stopping nearby but she kept going to drop by the man's side, the rifle was forgotten on the floor under the pod. She touched the chest plate of his armor, pulling her hand back as her fingers were zapped by lingering electricity.

Hissing with surprise rather than the pain she shoved her hand under his helmet, pulling down the fabric around his neck and pressing two fingers hard just under his jaw; checking for a pulse he still had.

Scamp made a noise from the side and she looked over to give him a smile. ''He's alright. He just got a bit of a jolt.'' Anita herself got a jolt when he suddenly moved, awake and in pain. ''You good, Manny?''

He said nothing. Only sat up, looked around, and made sure his helmet was still on.  Groaning as he stood up with her following, he walked back into the direction they came from and she assumed it was to return to his ship.

The hull had a few holes in it from where the Jawas had stripped it of its metal. The Mandalorian made a few frustrated sounds and slammed some doors, understandably mad that his ship was wrecked.

She followed him to what she assumed was the cockpit, he sat down in the middle seat and pushed buttons, flicked levers. There was sputtering, the ship wasnt able to take off and he gave up, disappearing back down the ladder.

''Dude, they got you good. This place is a mess.'' Anita jumped from the cockpit, forgoing using the ladder. The Mandalorian had Scamp in his arms, moving to leave the ship and go somewhere else with them since his mode of transportation was unusable.

''We gotta get your shit back man. I hate this planet.''

''Are your feet okay?''

''No, they're fucked.'' Anita laughed, though, to him, it sounded more like a pained whine. ''But if what you're actually asking is ''can I walk'' then the answer is yes. You are not carrying me.''  

''I wasn't going to.''

Anita made a face at him from behind, still following to whenever the next destination was set. The sun was setting and was near fully got when they arrived at a camp, someone of yet another race was fixing a tall, metal pole.

''I thought you were dead.''

''He almost was.'' Anita giggled to herself. ''My name is Anita. It's ...nice to meet you.'' Though confused and still afraid.

''I am Kuiil'' he replied, starting to climb down from the pole. He was small like a child and yet his face wasn't child-like at all. when he was finally on the ground and in front of her, he noticed her feet immediately.  ''You are injured.''

''Hm? oh yeh, just a little.''

''Sit. I will bring you supplies.''

''Oh no its-''

''I have spoken.'' Anita opened and closed her mouth dumbly, looking to Manny to help her but it just continued to stand there, silent as the grave. Kuiil hadn't said it rudely, it seemed more like a mannerism of his speech more than a rude demand that he was going to help.

Scamp had crawled down from inside his pod, playing with the small froglike creatures that hopped around while Anita tended to her feet with the supplies Kuiil had brought her.  

''This is what was causing all the fuss?''

''I thinks it's a child.''

''He is a child.'' Anita butted in, wiping the blood clean from her sore feet. ''his fifty years must be at least...8? maybe younger judging by the interest in slimy friends.''

''It is best to deliver it alive then.''

''him''

''My ship has been destroyed. I'm trapped here.'' The Mandalorian ignored her correction.   Anita rolled her eyes, bandaging up her feet while the two men talked. She wasn['t looking forward to yet another journey across the planet for his ship parts.

But where Scamp went, so did she.

''Hey, spit that out.''

Anita smiled at Scamp, who had caught his frog finally and shoved it face-first into his mouth. Leaning back his head, he swallowed it alive and looked to his mother with pride on his face.

Anita giggled, clapping as she was indeed proud of her little alien son. Though it was very gross, she couldn't help but find it incredibly cute.

The child was too cute.

[panharmonium]

@merlinobsessionist you understand me on a spiritual level

[putting the rest of this under a cut because it just ended up being me grumping at length about fandom trends - which, yes, i am well-aware is a silly endeavour in all cases, but sometimes you just gotta have your little grump regardless, you know, for health reasons. X)  and in this particular case the grumping is probably relevant/entertaining only to myself, and you, and one or two other people here, so, tucking it away to spare everyone’s dash :) ]

the other day i was exploring the mostly abandoned wasteland that is the merlin fandom on livejournal (since that’s my original fandom home and obviously i missed out on being involved in that particular niche of lj when merlin was active, so i was feeling nostalgic and kinda curious as to it had looked like) - i stumbled over a merlin fic-finders comm and looked up my boy william just for kicks, and surprisingly, a couple of the old requests sounded like maybe i WAS involved in the merlin fandom on livejournal back then and i just don’t remember it

i think i wrote this in a past life

this is an eleven year-old comment in a mostly defunct fandom community but i felt it in my BONES

oh, my dear commenter from 8 years ago, i WISH  XD

it made me laugh, and then it made me grumpy, because obviously there were very few suggestions offered in response to these asks - the fics just don’t exist, not in any numbers.

and like, the thing is, i don’t particularly care about the shipping side of things for the most part; i always lean towards gen and that’s mostly been it, for me; that’s always been my MO in every fandom i’ve ever participated in, but - look.  if i have to witness (*checks ao3*) 23,830 (twenty four thousand. twenty four THOUSAND!!!!) instances of merlin getting together with arthur hecking pendragon, over and over and over again, in every AU configuration under the sun, then you had better believe i am ready and willing to plead the case of the only person in the merlin-verse who did not think arthur pendragon deserved merlin’s entire life.  

and of course, there’s nothing inherently wrong with arthur and merlin as an item, obviously (i mean, i can name a few things about it that don’t appeal to me personally, but that is not the same thing as a value judgment) and everybody should have fun with their own ships, always - but for me, personally, there is just...enough of that out there.  i have seen Enough.  it’s hard for me to even determine where the rest of the fandom is, under the ever-present spread of merlin/arthur content; a picture of merlin/arthur should literally be next to the dictionary entry for steamroller.

and of course, i knew it would be like this from the beginning, and i know complaining about the ubiquitousness of a particular ship in fandom is utterly silly, in the end, because it’s not like there’s anything wrong with something being ubiquitous - the whole point of fandom is to make what you love, and if that’s what everybody loves, well, hey, that’s just how it is!  that’s what people should be making - the stuff they love!  that’s what fandom is here for!  i only mutter to myself in the bubble of my own blog because the ubiquitousness makes it almost impossible for me to find what *i* love, because i don’t want to read about arthur/merlin in the first place, no matter who else appears in the fic, and also because my fave minor character, while he gets a pretty good amount of fannish screentime for someone who showed up in one episode, also suffers from the curse known as “virtually everything he features in is actually about merlin and arthur getting it on”

like - by the numbers, when you exclude merlin/arthur from will’s character tag, will retains less than 20% of his fics, some of which are already like...you know, he’s dead, or just mentioned, et cetera.  

and his poor ship tag...he and merlin have 136 fics in their tag, and at first you wanna look at that and be like - ‘hey, not bad, pal, that’s p. good for a rarepair!’  but in actuality, less than 20 of those fics are actually about him and merlin.  like...12% of his own ship tag actually belongs to him, and the rest is him being used as a plot device to get arthur and merlin together.

and i am sure that a lot of other side characters probably suffer from this, too, given the general fic distribution in this fandom, though the only person i’ve looked at for comparison purposes is freya, who is a (mostly) one-ep character like will.  she, despite that, doesn’t appear to get hit quite as hard - she seems to keep more of her fic for herself, which is nice (when i exclude merlin/arthur from the freya/merlin search, freya still retains about 65% of her fics, as opposed to will’s sad little 12%).  i’m glad for her, though - she of all people does not need to be losing fic to arthur; she has suffered enough. 

to put things in perspective, though - merlin and uther have more fics in their ship tag that earnestly focus on the tagged....hnhhmgnhn i can’t say it...relationship than merlin and will do - even filtering out every instance of dubcon/noncon.  

(and yes, i did in fact want to die when i had to actually click the merlin/uther tag on ao3 in order to check that factoid, thanks for asking.)

so, that said - i don’t generally read canon-era fic anyway, when i’m actively writing for a fandom, but since the merlin fandom sometimes feels like it consists solely of modern AU’s anyway, all i am trying to say is that it would be nice if i could pick up an AU including a character i enjoy without seeing him constantly reduced to:

merlin’s loser ex

merlin’s abusive ex (w h at)

merlin’s ex who’s kinda sorta tolerable-ish, maybe, if you squint, but just ultimately Not Right for merlin - holding merlin back, or being too overbearing, or too pushy, or Just Not Enough - or being someone who merlin stays with only bc he’s familiar and merlin’s settling for something safe and unrisky and stagnantly unfulfilling

the dude who merlin cheats on to be with arthur

the dude who cheats on merlin, bc the fic needed a reason to break up merlin and will so that white-knight!arthur could swoop in (cue me shouting ‘IN WHAT UNIVERSE DO YOU THINK WILL WOULD EVER - ’)

the dude merlin “makes mistakes with” when things with arthur aren’t going well

the friend-with-benefits who’s apparently chill with a casual arrangement, thus keeping himself conveniently out of the way of the oncoming merlin/arthur train

the friend-with-benefits who’s secretly NOT chill with a casual arrangement and who’s pining for merlin, except we all know that ain’t ever going anywhere because arthur exists, and in the meantime merlin only ever gets together with will to try and forget his problems

the friend-with-no-benefits who’s still pining for merlin (which situation, i might add, would be read completely differently if it were arthur in will’s shoes, because if that were the case then the audience would 100% be rooting for him)

the “best friend” whose only purpose in fic is to provide space for conversations/debriefs about merlin’s relationship/pre-relationship with arthur (like - i’m sorry, but there desperately needs to be some type of bechdel-esque test for will; e.g. do will and merlin have a conversation about something other than arthur pendragon?  if yes, u win, u may pass go, collect 20 dollars, congratulations)

the friend whose dislike of arthur always, ALWAYS ends up being framed as a mistake.  as will’s stubborn unwillingness to give arthur a chance, until at last will sees the light and succumbs to the irresistible beauty of merlin and arthur’s eternal love. -_-  there is vanishingly rare acknowledgement in fic of the fact that in the canon universe, all of the criticisms will makes about merlin and arthur’s relationship are not only accurate, but made in merlin’s best interests (and also, ultimately, proven right, by the end of the show - merlin tanks his whole damn life for a series of empty promises prophesying arthur pendragon’s future potential, and he gets NOTHING for his devotion.  merlin is more alone at the end of the show than he was at the beginning, when his only dream was to be loved and accepted by more than the two people who’d comprised his entire life up until that point.  and he spends at least half a decade in between the show’s hopeful beginning and its miserable end being told that he’s evil by the very person for whom he is expected to sacrifice his future.  

so what, exactly, makes will so wrong to be wary?  who among us wouldn’t be angry if we saw somebody we loved being forced to sacrifice themselves on an unforgiving altar like this?  

i don’t know the answer.  i’m not sure what it is that earns will his spot on the “destined to be shafted for arthur pendragon” list.  i don’t know if it’s an unconscious backlash to will’s refusal to hop on the arthur/merlin train, or if it’s just a superficial understanding/lack of genuine interest in his character, which, in that case, sure, i’ll give people that one, in all fairness; not everyone has spent a year picking his character apart (though i still don’t think it justifies tossing him in there just because the fic needs a random insert who can be positioned as inferior to arthur’s gloriousness).  either way, the end result is that we usually end up seeing a will who has very little in common with his source material, or who needs to ultimately step aside to make way for arthur - arthur, who never displays the same level of care toward merlin in canon that merlin shows toward him, and who actively oppresses merlin’s people for the entire duration of their relationship.  

like...it’s all just fic, obviously, and we can make characters as OOC as we want; have fun; go wild.  but at the same time, it’s impossible for me not to balk at how arthur in some of this fic is just - utterly unrecognizable.  in comparison with fic!will, arthur is the most Solicitous, Gentle, Understanding, Deeply Concerned, Invested-In-Merlin’s-Welfare-and-Inner-Thoughts creature you ever did see, and I’m just over here like - it is not like that!  it is NOT LIKE THAT!  IT HAS LITERALLY NEVER BEEN LIKE THAT.  arthur pendragon in fic sometimes interacts with merlin like - he tilts his head and listens like a therapist and affirms absolutely everything merlin says and tells him ‘gosh, i understand. tell me more. how can i help you’ - he goes about his day thinking about merlin and putting merlin first and i just - i literally have never seen this person before in my life.  who is this man?  who is this unbelievably attentive paragon of caring?  i’ve never met him before.

the entire running problem with merlin and arthur’s friendship in canon is that arthur, while he absolutely does care about merlin, tends to take merlin for granted.  merlin is just another feature of arthur’s landscape, until something dramatic happens and arthur has a little scare and saves merlin’s life, and then things go back to the way they were.  arthur doesn’t See merlin the way he should, not in the ordinary moments.  merlin goes home and spends his evenings thinking about arthur’s life; he ties himself in knots trying to help arthur develop as a person and to keep arthur safe and happy, but arthur just goes home and eats supper with his wife.  arthur does not go home and spend his nights agonizing over how he can improve merlin’s life.  he never once thinks, ‘my purpose on this earth is to serve and support my friend merlin.’  he never feels like he’s supposed to be half of some two-sided coin.  i know people like to give arthur this quality in their fic - and that’s totally fine, of course, it’s fic, have as much fun as you want - but in canon, that is just not something arthur pendragon does.  it’s not who he is shown to be.  

and yet almost every time when i go to explore fandom, i find that the person who does put merlin first in canon is perpetually elbowed aside for this extremely generous interpretation of everyone’s favorite prince.  

and i just...i always try to find the good bits in everything, and i am sometimes willing to overlook a ship i don’t personally enjoy if there’s something else about the piece that i think is great, but there’s only so many times i can read the sentence “merlin had never felt like this with anyone, not even will” in fics where merlin and will are supposed to have been dating or even married/engaged, or “will was merlin’s best friend, but he just didn’t understand” (not like arthur, of course, who merlin literally just met a week ago), or “will was great, but there was only so much of him merlin could stand in one sitting/will was great, but he was best enjoyed in small doses.”  there’s only so many times i can read a hundred different variations of that before i start to get real grumpy.  and that’s not even touching the fics where will’s portrayed less favorably than that, even.  

so, you know.  i feel grumbly about it sometimes, how this particular character is trapped in a perpetual net of always being less-than, when one of the nicest parts of fandom for me is that every character/ship can have an infinitude of possibilities, even the ones i personally think are unbelievably bizarre (which category merlin and will do not even fall into, like - it’s not an incredible leap.  merlin/mordred is a leap, okay; mordred is like seventeen years old!  leon/morgana is a leap - how on earth did that become so popular??? - but will and merlin?  that’s not a leap.)

what is it about will that makes him so tempting to trample over?  will’s only sin in canon was to look at arthur pendragon and pronounce himself utterly unimpressed.  his only crime was to tell merlin ‘this dude isn’t good for you,’ about which fact he was CORRECT, by the way - he is the first person who ever chooses to care about merlin, the first person merlin ever chooses to trust, the first friend who loves real!merlin without needing to be coaxed and convinced and taught that it’s okay.  he is the only one who ever tells merlin ‘you deserve better than this mess,’ the only one for whom merlin has always been priority number one and in whose eyes arthur isn’t even on the map.  merlin’s friendship with will (and lancelot, afterwards) is the healthiest one merlin ever gets to experience, and i wish more fannish material acknowledged it as such, as opposed to using will to set up merlin and arthur’s epic romance.  

all of this, i suppose, is just a very long way of saying that now that i am no longer avoiding spoilers and have actually started testing the waters of the wider fandom, i have come to the obstinate, utterly inflexible conclusion that will deserves his own collection of happy endings, and i don’t care if i have to write them myself.  i’ve already got the gen angle covered.  and even though i’ve never written ship!fic in my life, the fact of the matter is that spite can be a hell of a motivator, and i will bite the bullet and learn how to do it if i have to.  if people can really be out here tagging their merlin/uther fics as “schmoop” (YES. REALLY.) then by GOD, i swear, there are no excuses - this fandom can accommodate literally anything; there’s no reason it can’t accommodate stories where will wins.  let this kid have his good ending.  arthur pendragon can fall in love with merlin 23,830 times despite his and merlin’s ship flying in the face of canon, and that means will deserves his own tiny handful of stories to be actually about him, without his and merlin’s relationship being used solely as a stepping stone on the way to merlin and arthur’s 23,831st triumph.

i am just saying - if uther pendragon can fall in love with merlin and have it tagged as ‘fluff,’ then for the love of all that is good, we can give will his moment.  let will enjoy the respect he should have earned from us when he died saving both merlin and arthur’s lives.  let will be a person in his own right, instead of a plot device sacrificed to the (in)glorious altar of merthur.  let will have an inner life of his own.  let will have a best friend who doesn’t treat him like an accessory to The Greatest Love Story Ever Told.  let will himself live out The Greatest Love Story Ever Told, for once.  let will get his guy.  i may tend to focus on friendship in my own work, but there are a lot of universes out there, and when it comes to someone who has always been so alone, and so singularly focused on merlin’s wellbeing, i’m not entirely sure if friendship even feels anything different to “in love” for will at all, in at least some of these places.

let will have his happy tags.  he’s been on his own for so much of his life - let him have his simple ‘friendship’, his ‘platonic love,’ his ‘found family.’  let him have his lovestruck ‘pining,’ ‘friends-to-lovers,’ ‘angst with a happy ending,’ too, and let him keep those tags for himself.  let characters who aren’t arthur pendragon have their love stories.

i may not care much for shipping, and i would rather read gen any day of the week, but let me tell you right now, i would rather write will and merlin settling down in a haze of domestic bliss 23,830 times before i would ever want to watch merlin ditch him yet again for a dude who never matched merlin’s level of caring and investment in the canon ‘verse.

[monkhsuns]

21. How have they changed each other for the better/for the worse? {For all of them >:3 }

// Writing Prompt

collab: @kintsukuroi-memoir, @themyriadmen, @fogcaller

otp asks

Want to know more?   Ask!

Gerel rested in the fountain. Under different circumstances, the jellyfish that resided within may of been concerning. Yet, the witch had long developed an intolerance to their venom. In her hand was a magazine to review. Her wife was in the cover and Tenali wanted to be quite sure all the content within was up to Gerel’s level of quality. She had been immersed for nigh a bell. By the time she was on her fifth flip-through, Sunsgerel had a plethora of notes written into the clam shell on the fountain’s edge.

“How do you think we have changed each other? Erm, for the better or worse,” she asked no one in particular.

Aurhik was in his usual spot, lazing on the couch with one arm hanging off to drag the floor. Eyes blinked open and he rolled his head to the side to look towards the fountain.

“… Well, I am less of a dangerously insane arse with little empathy,” he murmured. “I would call that ‘better,’ personally.”

Hoshichou sat on the edge of the bed. Her gaze on the stars above. She searched their endlessness for answers, but when a new question came to life, she looked down to her wife instead. Lips parted about to answer before Aurhik beat her to it. She audibly snorted with disbelief. A grin formed on her lips as she turned her attention back to the stars.

“I’m alive because of you,” she pointed out. “Hard to get much better than that? Hmm…”

Chou tapped her heels absently on the wall beneath the bed. She tilted her head from side to side with dramatically pursed lips.

“This family gave my life meaning. Sure, it always had value, but what’s the point of wealth if you have nothing to spend it on?”

Pop!

Kaito’s head poked out of a cloud of mist that rolled out from under the couch. He was munching on something or another — a quick sniff would reveal the Doman was once again tearing through his stores of dried mango slices.

“My life got meaning and value as a package deal, I’d say. And, y'know, I don’t think I’d have reconnected with my ancestors, let alone my parents, if not for the lot of you.”

Aurhik’s eyes narrowed as he tilted his head to look up towards their bed loft. How dare she snort at his progress! He rolled over and buried his face in the couch, grumbling darkly about bratty redheads.

Maneshi had been listening silently, for the most part, sat in “his” chair and reading a book.

“Have become more of a person,” he said softly. “Beyond obvious good of now having family - not just the children, but the Monsaran as well.”

Gerel nodded to herself and glanced at her clam shell. She made a little note in it then returned her focus to the magazine. One hand pulled from the booklet and mushed against her cheek.

“If you could describe each other in one sentence, what would it be?”

“Hmm…”

Kaito climbed his way out of the mistgate on the floor, clambering onto the couch and giving the back of Aurhik’s head soft pat-pats.

“For Sunsgerel? She’s the nightlight in my life. Aurhik? Old and grumpy, but not half bad when you need an elezen around. Hoshichou? My twerpy partner in crime. And Maneshi? One of the reasons I like him is because he manages to put up with the rest of us without burning the entire estate down, somehow.”

Each opinion was fired off, quickly but not so rushed as to let the words jumble together. Doma beamed a bright grin to each of his family members.

Aurhik rolled back over to face the room.

… At least he didn’t say dhalmel.

“Your presence has gone from tolerable to familial, you are a good fit here,” he said first, pointing to Kaito.

“You,” the finger turned up to Hoshi above, “are perhaps the most shit-headed person I have ever met, but you are also the thread that binds our family together.”

“You,” Maneshi this time, “are a desperately needed bastion of calm collection and logic amidst the chaotic dealings of our lives.”

“And you,” finally it was Gerel. “Hoshi may bind us, but it was your light that guided us all together, that lets us know we are safe and loved.”

He let his hand drop and closed his eyes again. Too sleepy five him.

Maneshi surveyed the room a long moment — perhaps to wait for his blush to die down — before smiling and shaking his head, “Hm.”

“One sentence? Erm…”

Hoshi scrunched her nose up and flopped back onto the bed. She listened to the other’s contributions with a slight grin on glossed lips. Fingers drummed on the blankets as an expectant silence fell over the family. Slowly, she sat back up and shimmered with the joy of her answers.

“Maneshi is the story you can never put down because he only gets better,” she described clearly. “Aurhik’s journey to bravery is the most inspiring one I’ve had witness participating in. Kaito…  is the sunlight on a winter’s sun, the reminder that there is always joy. Sunsgerel is love.”

Maneshi felt eyes turn to him and smiled again. He took off his glasses, withdrew a cloth from a bottomless pocket and began to clean the lenses.

“Difficult,” he finally said. “People are complex, hard to summarize so succinctly. You all even more-so. Feel as if it would be a disservice, like plucking notes from a symphony. Each of you is worth more than that.”

Within the tub, Gerel listened silently. Pearls glimmered in her eyes but hadn’t toppled down her cheeks. She swallowed thickly, made a few notes into her shell, and then closed the magazine. With a final dip beneath the waters, Gerel emerged from the fountain. She was careful not to jostle the jellyfish as she stepped out from their home.

Calmly, Sunsgerel reached up and fixed the seashell that held her hair up in a bun then stepped over to her lovers. Each were given a hug that left them… slightly damp, but such was the nature of living with a creature of the depths.

“I love all of you,” she murmured as she ended up beside Hoshichou.

As they each shared their replies, the Doman crossed his leggies in and rocked from side to side. A beaming smile not unlike that very sunlight spread over his features by the end of it, and he returned Gerel’s embrace warmly. And, if anything, Kaito couldn’t say he was dehydrated anymore.

“I love all of you, too. Yes, even the dhalmel.”

Aurhik smiled sleepily when he was hugged, not at all minding the damp. He managed to return it with one arm while retaining his position of three-quarters dead on the couch.

Maneshi accepted the hug warmly, and stole a peck on Gerel’s lips for good measure.

“Love you all, too,” Shi hummed happily, which prompted Aurhik to mumble out ’yeralrightiguess’ as he dozed off.

“You would think he was sleep deprived,” Hoshi teased as she was joined.

Her tail was quick to wrap carefully around Gerel’s. Their horns were lightly tapped together. The albino was pulled into a tight embrace that flopped them both back on the bed. Blankets were yanked around the glistening moon before several kisses were pressed to her face.

“I love you, too. How’re you feeling?”

“Bundled.”

Hearing Hoshi’s tease Aurhik let out a grumble and rolled off the couch, taking the pillow he’d been resting on with him. He staggered his way up the stairs and crawled onto their bed… where he promptly flopped across the bundled lizards.

“Ack!”

Protest came from Hoshi, who promptly attempted her own attack. Teeth attempted to capture any hunk of dhalmel in their range.

Sunsgerel was more inclined to succumb to her fate. She mushed into her blanket a little more and closed her eyes. Silence was held for several minutes until a high pitched whine squeaked from below.

“I am hungry.”

• • •

Later, the clam shell that Sunsgerel wrote in was left open for her notes to be reviewed. At the very end of them, however, there were additional thoughts— specifically, she had answered the two questions that she posed her loved ones. • All of my loved ones have changed me for the better. I think…  I think that is a core part of being in a healthy relationship. Kaito inspires me to find joy in joyless places. He has overcome so much and more, and despite it all, he still finds dawn at the end of night. Hoshichou has taught me to stop living in the past and to stop chasing the future. She’s taught me that the present, the moment, is just as important to experience. Maneshi taught me that sometimes you need to get lost to be found. He taught me that there is more to us beyond our making. Finally, Aurhik. In some way, Aurhik is the reason I am who I am. But more, he taught me that…  that there is always time left.

• Truthfully, there’s no way to sum any of them up in one sentence. Maneshi had that corrent. But if I had to try?

• Hoshichou is the northern star, shining through the darkest nights, for she is the promise of home. 

• Aurhik is the blood, pumping through my veins, the strength demanding survival even in the weakest of moments. 

• Maneshi is the voice of reason amidst a sea of chaos, a sanity he has developed, and not one he mocks.

• Kaito is the promise that tomorrow will be better.

ooc :: This answer is also included, @rinrin-rinalys! 

[sketchy-characters-in-progress]

When Teasing Ends in Trouble

Summary: Jude gives Cardan a phone. A few explicit pictures later Cardan realizes he can't deal with the sexual frustration, and takes it out on Jude. She’s surprisingly into it.

A/N: Ok so I posted this on Ao3 a while back because I was too nervous to put it here, but I’ve seen some similar stuff to my own on here recently and decided to say fuck it and just go for it.

Worst that could happen is people hate it. But even if one person likes it it wouldn’t have been for nothing haha. Oh also I like never write so I don’t know how this stands up as a piece of writing, I just hope it’s entertaining.

And this was so fun to write so there’s that.

Gets kind of dark, is pretty OOC, and like 7500 words. But enjoy!

Warnings: Smut, Dom/Sub, spanking, Swearing, Crying, Dark but Jude’s clearly pretty into it at the end, OOC af but I had fun so

_______________________________________________________________________

JUDE & CARDAN

Cardan Greenbriar isn’t one to show a variety of emotions in public. The ones most often witnessed by his subjects were ones of boredom during incessant meetings or smug amusement at a particularly rambunctious party. On a rare occasion, some fae would be unfortunate enough to witness his face twist into stone cold rage. And, of course, the newest addition to his lackluster range of displayed emotions: adoration. Ever since he and Jude Duarte, his once exiled queen and sworn enemy, had reconciled, he’d display his affection as openly as a child with his favourite piece of candy.

However, as with all things, too much of something never ends well. All this newfound happiness led to lengthy periods of sulking with a thundercloud over his head whenever Jude was gone. And the whole … misunderstanding… with Jude’s exile led to some life changing revelations on her side.

Jude discovered that she made a damn good ambassador between the humans and fae.

In the process of securing the crown’s future, Jude had many opportunities to diplomatically resolve the conflicts with her enemies, using her unique position as someone deeply entrenched in both worlds.

Well, the positive outcomes of those discussions were probably due to her threats to separate bodies from heads and parade them on a stick, but she tried to be diplomatic. 

And she sure as hell enjoyed it.

Meanwhile, while Jude was stuck in the human world, Cardan had spent his time actually learning how he was supposed to run a country and be a strong ruler before he ended up on the wrong side of a revolution. So once everything had calmed down, both Cardan and Jude were comfortable settling into their new roles, with Cardan as a true King and Jude as a Queen in name but a diplomat in essence.

The new jobs also did wonders to teach Jude how to control her temper and to cement Cardan’s new status as someone not to be fucked with.

And although they were both happy in the positions, Jude’s constant trips between the worlds and different parts of the land left both her and Cardan apart for quite too long. Thus, long periods of yearning and sulking around the palace for the disgruntled King.

And, of course, Jude decided to do something about it.

Directly leading to the day when Cardan, with a strangled noise and a pinking face, displayed wide-eyed shock in front of his highest-ranking officers for the first time ever.

_______________________________________________________________________

JUDE

After her second long expedition to the human world, Jude came back to her palace with a mischievous smile and excited eyes.

Walking through the palace and hearing her muddy boots squishing on pristine marble tiles made her feel right at home. Jude briefly felt bad for the servants who would have to clean up after her muddy mess, and promised not to drag in half the palace grounds after herself next time she entered the castle. Looking back at the footprints, she decided not to make the situation worse.

Tugging off her boots, she held them in her hands as she made the rest of the way towards her King’s private chambers. Familiar guards dotted the halls towards the royals’ wing of the castle, and she greeted them with warm smiles, giddy from what she was about to present to her husband. Turning the corner, she pattered down the hall towards where Cardan spent most of his time when she was gone.

Finally, Jude stopped in front of heavy wooden doors engraved with faint carvings of beasts and creatures from all corners of the land of Faeries. Pushing at the ornate doors, her socks slipped on the marble and she nearly fell into Cardan’s enormous private office.

The first things she noticed were the familiar floating dust motes in the golden rays of the sun, quickly followed by the hundreds of books lining magnificent bookshelves, and then the lonely figure at a desk in the middle of the room.

As if sensing that she was looking at him, Cardan slowly turned around in his chair, a lazy smile stretching his lovely features. Standing up carefully, he started to make his way towards her far too slowly.

In response, Jude dropped her dirty boots and dashed into his arms. When she crashed into him, he nearly fell over from the impact, letting out a surprised grunt followed by a long peal of gentle laughter.

Burying his face in her hair, Jude heard him murmur, “I missed you darling.”

Her only reply was to wrap her arms around him tightly and hold on for way too long, yet not long enough. Though they might laugh and joke, ten months apart were not easy to bear for either of them. This was the longest she’d been away from him on one of her trips, and she swore right there and then to never leave for so long again.

When Jude forced herself away so that she could look at his face, she noticed the shadows under his eyes, and tiredness in his smile. Remembering that late morning in the human world is essentially late night for faeries, Jude raised her hand to Cardan’s cheek.

“Shouldn’t you be going to sleep?” She whispered, caressing his jaw.

Sighing, Cardan leaned into her touch, “I have reports to sign and disputes to settle. As you know quite well, it’s long and tiring work. 

Squinting down at her through his long lashes, he whispered conspiratorially, “Did you know that someone stole Sir Goran’s prize pumpkin?”

After a stunned moment, Jude couldn’t help but throw her head back in laughter. Tired or otherwise incapacitated Cardan was the most amusing Cardan by far.

“I did not know that,” she replied through hiccups of laughter.

Cardan groaned heavily, dropping his head onto her shoulder in an almost comical fashion, “That man could buy three full plots of goddamn pumpkins and still afford those atrocious mermaid-scale boots that are supposedly the last of their kind. And yet he continues to send me fucking letters detailing the utter horror committed against him and how I can’t even solve the case of the damn stolen pumpkin.” 

By this point, Jude was about to fall over in laughter, holding an exhausted Cardan that seemed to be similarly beginning to give into the amusement of the absurd situation. In just a few minutes, they’ve ended up on the floor, clutching each other as their laughter subsided.

With a sigh, Jude leaned her forehead against Cardan’s, feeling his body react to hers as she melted into him. He held her tighter and his chest began to rise quicker. Hers matched his in turn. Time apart had made their bodies miss the release they could find in each other.   

“I actually have a present for you,” Jude whispered, remembering what she needed to give to him, heart still hammering.

The exhaustion seemed to flit completely out of Cardan’s eyes, replaced by dark desire.

He raised his eyebrows, murmuring as he leaned in, “Oh really? Is it what I’d find if I felt between your thighs right now?”

Heat pooled in Jude’s belly as one hand traced her rounded ear and the other played with the string on her trousers. Shaking her head to clear it of murky longing, she pushed him away before she ended up spending all day fucking instead of accomplishing her goal.

“Oh my God Cardan, is that all you think about?” Jude laughed, “I have an actual present for you.”

Leaning in one more time, Jude pressed her lips to Cardan’s ear, “And if you’re good and let me finish showing you my present, I’ll let you have your way with the other gift you so kindly caused.”

Cardan groaned, gripping her hips tight enough to bruise, before letting her go with a huff.

“Fine. But don’t think I’ll forget your promise.”

Jude rolled her eyes with a smile, reaching into the forgotten satchel hanging by her side. Pulling out a thin, rectangular object, she passed the precious piece of overpriced metal to Cardan. He seemed to momentarily forget about the tension in the air from mere seconds ago.

“This is a cellphone. Humans currently use it to communicate and connect with each other over long distances. I thought we could use it to talk when I go away,” Jude explained quietly, answering the question in Cardan’s eyes.

Cardan stared down at her, wide-eyed. Slowly, a crooked smile grew on his face.

“Thank you,” he murmured, “I love it, sweetheart.”

Jude pulled away just far enough to give him a big grin.

“Now, listen up, I’ll only teach you the basics of calling and texting, but make sure not to press any other buttons or you might accidentally turn off the only data plan I could find that somehow works from here,” Jude began, amused by the increasing look of confusion on her husband’s face.

_______________________________________________________________________

CARDAN

It took some time and constant repeats from a surprisingly patient Jude until Cardan finally got the hang of using this phone object. However, through the difficulty and confusion, even he had to admit that it was the most useful object he’d possessed in his life, as it allowed him to talk to his wife everyday even if she was gone for months. He even learned how to see her on his phone when talking to her. It was almost like being with her.

Almost.

But Cardan hadn’t realized just how quickly this useful device could turn into a sexual nightmare. The first time it happened was one early morning, as he was getting ready for bed. Just as he closed his eyes, he heard the quiet chime of his phone, meaning Jude had texted him.

Picking up his phone, he frowned as he immediately noticed that something was different. The notification he got was one that he’d never seen before. Of course, he hadn’t had the motivation or time to explore the rest of the things Jude had downloaded onto his phone, but he was still surprised, as she’d never used anything else but texts, phone calls, and video chats. This time, the little banner had a weird white blob on a yellow background to the left, and text that said ‘Snapchat from Jude’, with a red heart and purple devil-face next to the name. Clearly, his wife had her fun with the phone before giving it to him.

Like Jude taught him, Cardan slid the little banner to the right, pressing his thumb to the button at the bottom to unlock the phone. This automatically opened the message, so that he didn’t have to navigate the phone to get to it.

His jaw dropped as his lovely Jude appeared on the screen, clad in nothing but in those underclothes humans loved so much. Red velvet panties and matching bra covered the parts of her he missed so dearly. And then she disappeared off the screen, just like that.

Like a devious phantom that never gave him enough of her to be satisfied, but just enough to leave him pulsing with raw desire, Jude sent him similarly scandalous pictures on random mornings, disappearing before he could truly appreciate them, and always wearing those damned underclothes.

For weeks, she tortured him so. When talking with him, she’d either completely avoid the topic of the pictures or laugh cheekily, making his blood boil and hand itch to teach her a lesson. Of course, with her in a completely different world, there wasn’t much he could do at the moment.

And the meeting was the final straw.

One moment, he was trying not to tune out the boring drabble of the pretentious faeries, and the next he was checking his phone after feeling the vibration indicating a text from his Jude. In hindsight, he should’ve paused for a moment and realized that the white on yellow icon meant this was not a normal text, but his brain was fried from the incessant meetings. 

Opening the message, Cardan was so surprised to see Jude’s very fully naked body taking up the majority of the screen, that he couldn’t help but squeal like a strangled cat.

He vaguely sensed every head in the room turn towards him, unable to tear his eyes away. He could feel the sweat gathering on his palms, as his trouser suddenly became uncomfortably tight. Then the picture disappeared as if it was never there.

Little by little, Cardan shut his mouth, schooled his red face into his usual mask of boredom, and put down the cursed phone.

“Is there a problem?” Cardan drawled lazily, looking around the room.

At the King’s commanding tone, the generals quickly but nervously resumed their discussions.

Completely losing the pretense of paying attention, Cardan drummed his fingers on the table, as he decided that Jude wouldn’t be getting away with this. She knew he had a meeting right now, and she had the gall to send that.

He glowered, itching for revenge. Oh, she’ll get what’s coming to her.

Any general that would have dared to glance at Cardan’s face in that moment would have feared for whatever poor soul was the recipient of the simmering anger behind the King’s eyes.

_______________________________________________________________________

CARDAN 

         Every day, Cardan and Jude had a planned time to video chat. This way, no matter how busy they got, they would talk and see each other at least once a day. This would come in very useful for him today, as Jude wouldn’t break their promise to talk every day. Especially since she didn’t yet know that she had really fucked up.

He hoped she was as nervous to talk to him as he was looking forward to seeing the realization on her face of what was coming to her.

Facing a mirror, Cardan took several deep breaths, calming his face into quiet anger, so as not to give Jude the satisfaction of accidentally seeing the burning desire and emotional turmoil she’d kept him in for over two months.

Turning around, Cardan stalked back to his bed, assuming his usual position against the headboard, holding the phone out in front of him. Looking at the little clock at the top of the phone’s screen, Cardan verified the time and pressed the ‘call button’. His face appeared in a little box at the top corner of the screen, meanwhile Jude still hadn’t answered his call.

For a moment longer than usual, he went unanswered. But then, there she was.

Cardan’s eyes narrowed, staring at the screen. After the little picture debacle today, he would’ve assumed that Jude would’ve had at least a little inkling of the trouble she was in, perhaps opting to appear a little more innocent and demure.

Instead, her top plunged so low that he couldn’t see where it ended below the screen, and her face was adorned with a devious smirk.

“Hey.” Jude said quietly, not quite projecting the confidence of her smile and outfit in her voice. At least she was at least a little bit nervous.

Cardan let the silence stretch out. He knew it was getting uncomfortable, but watching her squirm was exactly the point of today’s call. After a moment, Jude seemed to pull herself together, and build that mask of confidence back up.

Letting the slow, devilish grin split her face even further, Jude leaned in, pushing her breast together. The top wasn’t helping.

“So,” she drawled, “did you like your little present today?”

Cardan tilted his head, still staring with the look that promised pain. He saw her smile falter just a little, but to her credit, she brought it back up, smirking even more. Cardan leaned towards the phone.

“Careful, darling,” he growled, “after I get my hands on you, you won’t be able to sit for a week.”

At first, Jude’s brow furrowed, confident façade gone and replaced by confusion. Then, there it was. The moment that made his torture worth it. The moment she realized exactly what he meant.

Jude’s mouth fell open, her breath leaving in a tattered gasp. She stared at him, the darkest blush he’d ever seen creeping up her neck.

“Y-you wouldn’t,” she stammered, almost a plea.

Cardan couldn’t help the wicked grin stretching his mouth. Come here and find out.

“Oh, wouldn’t I, Jude, dearest,” he replied, schooling his features back into cold anger. “And one more thing. No more sending those pictures when I’m in a meeting, darling. After all, you’ve got, what, three weeks until you come back? Shouldn’t be too difficult.”

Licking his lips like he just spotted his prey, he continued, “I am not in the most forgiving mood currently, and I will punish you for every picture you send from now on.”

Cardan leaned back lazily, watching Jude’s breathing get heavier, chest rising tantalizingly, as the blood drained form her face at his statement. Cardan added his deadly grin back to his furious expression.

“Do you want to know what I’ll do to you for each one you send?” he drawled, boring his eyes into hers.

Jude let out a little whimper, snatching her eyes away from his line of sight.

“No,” she whispered.

“I think you do, sweetheart,” Cardan tutted, “otherwise, how would you know that you actions have consequences? You’re already in big trouble, my dear Jude, but it can get much, much, worse.”

 Cardan narrowed his eyes, growling, “Look at me.”

 Jude’s roaming eyes snapped back to his, as she bit her lip and waited for him to continue.

“Good girl,” he smirked, “For every picture I receive, I will add a week of welts on your ass. And fuck if I know what one versus five weeks of bruises would look like on your backside. But I’ll sure as hell enjoy guessing.”

Leaning in one more time, Cardan decided to let her hear just how angry he was.

“Either way, just remember that you’ll be a screaming, sobbing mess over my lap by the end, begging me to stop,” Cardan snarled, “so just think about that over the next few weeks, and if torturing me was really worth it.”

And with that, he ended the call, a wide-eyed, whimpering girl the last thing he saw.

______________________________________________________________________

JUDE

Jude couldn’t stop staring at her reflection on the dark screen. Cardan was gone, and she saw what she looked like to him: scared.

But with an unexplainable feeling of arousal between her legs.

The moment she realized that he was going to bend her over his knee and spank her like a petulant child, it was as if the gears in her brain stopped turning.

And when she realized it will happen no matter what she did now, she got worried.

Not so much of the pain, but of the inevitable embarrassment of being punished in such a way.

Chewing on her lip, Jude buried her face in her hands, thinking. Should she apologize and beg him not to do it? Or maybe send him more pictures to show him that she wasn’t afraid? It didn’t really help to realize just how wet she was after their conversation.

Cardan had never put her in this kind of situation before, and her heart thumped painfully just thinking about what it will feel like. But she’d seen Cardan angry in person before, and talking through a screen was nothing compared to the real experience of his fury. She couldn’t forget the fire in the coals of his eyes, and imagining seeing that in person, she knew she’d come to regret sending those damned pictures.

In Jude’s mind, she just wanted to rile him up, get him so aroused and on edge that he’d give her the best rough sex she’d ever had when she came back. At no point did she expect he would actually punish her for game, with a fucking spanking no less.

Suddenly a thought struck her, turning her insides cold. He never specified he would use his hands. 

Before she could stop her train of thoughts, her mind spiraled, picturing him slowly pulling a belt out of his pants’ loops and bending it in half…

Jude couldn’t help the moan that slipped through her lips, feeling her arousal begin to cover her thighs. In this scenario she was certainly just as worried about the pain as the embarrassment, but her body seemed to betray her terrified mind.

She rolled over, groaning loudly, stuffing her face into her pillows. One hand quickly found its way down the front of her jeans, as she quickly brought herself to satisfaction with shaky circles. At least now that she had taken care of her craving, her thoughts seemed to clear up somewhat.

Jude knew she couldn’t escape Cardan’s wrath, but at the very least she could control how dark her bruises will be and for how long she’d struggle to sit.

Taking a calming breath, Jude decided that she wouldn’t send any more pictures. It won’t be that bad, I’ll only have to suffer for a week.

Unfortunately, she forgot that sometimes drunk Jude doesn’t make the best decisions.

_______________________________________________________________________

JUDE

Jude woke up with a groan and a splitting headache. Shaking her head and pushing herself up into a sitting position, Jude blinked slowly, trying to take in her surroundings.

From the window, the sun streamed in almost painfully, hitting her face in just the wrong way. Cursing, Jude stood up slowly.

“What the fuck happened to me?”

Straining her sleepy mind, Jude focused on what she could recall.

“Of course!” Jude remembered with a bang. Since she was returning to Faerie today, Viv and their human friends threw her a party. And to stop worrying about seeing Cardan so soon, she drank until she could truly enjoy herself. Smiling bitterly, she realized there was no more avoiding her fate. After her conversation with Cardan three weeks ago, she opted not to contact him anymore. And since he never called himself, she’d been left with his words constantly at the back of her mind. At least she had one night to focus on something else.

Sitting back down on her bed with a sigh, Jude rubbed at her headache with one hand and picked up her phone with the other. After scrolling through her emails, she took a break and went to check her Snapchat. Immediately, she knew something was very, very wrong. At the top of her feed, she saw an opened arrow next to Cardan’s name. Oh no oh no oh no no no. Shit. What did she send? After a moment of rifling through her murky memories, Jude’s worst suspicions were confirmed. Almost as if in third person, she saw herself as drunken Jude, giggling as she sent two consecutive pictures to Cardan. Two very explicit pictures. Both of her naked. One angled obscenely from below. The second even more magnificent, using mirrors in a way so sinful that Cardan would never look at reflections in the same way again. Drunken Jude laughed, “Let’s see how he likes these during his meeting!”

In a moment, she snapped back to reality, cursing herself mentally. I should’ve deleted those photos before something like this happened!

Jude briefly considered calling Cardan and apologizing, telling him those pictures were accidents, but she knew in her heart that it wouldn’t matter. She still disobeyed him. There was nothing she could do now. After weeks of wondering about Cardan’s promise would feel like, she even started to recognize an inkling of excitement. She was no longer sure she was so excited.

_______________________________________________________________________

JUDE

Entering the faerie palace, Jude’s heart beat fast enough to drown out the greetings and flatteries of passing nobles. It felt like hours before she reached the royal wing. Like usual, the guards greeted her warmly with smiles, but she was barely able to muster up her own in return. Increasing her pace, Jude practically bolted past Cardan’s office and chambers, quietly sealing herself in her room. Although she usually slept in Cardan’s room, she technically had her own Queen’s chambers she could go to.

She knew it was stupid, that if Cardan wanted to find her, this would be the easiest place to do so. Still, there was no point presenting herself to him like a sheep wandering into the wolf’s mouth. She would at least try to avoid him.

Still, as the minutes passed, Jude fully expected Cardan to barge into her room at any moment, finally claiming his revenge. But no one came.

Eventually, Jude relaxed enough to sit back and read one of the books lying haphazardly on the nightstand. In a few hours, she even ventured outside.

For the next few days, it was as if Cardan disappeared from existence. Avoiding Cardan’s rooms, Jude went about her business everywhere else in the palace. She spoke with other ambassadors, discussed any problems facing Faerie with generals and administrators, and even visited Taryn. Over the days, it seemed like the knot of anxiety in her stomach began to slowly unwind, releasing with it her concerns.

One evening, exactly four days after she arrived, Jude entered her room after waking up early for a run, and saw something was different. Immediately, the unraveling knot shriveled back up, even tighter than when she had arrived. Pulse hammering in her ears and hands shaking, Jude approached the bed, spying the envelope on her satin sheets that had left her so disheveled. Even before reading the neat strokes of black ink on cream, she knew immediately who it was from. Tearing it open, Jude unraveled the parchment, reading the six words that sent her blood thundering.

It’s time you learned your lesson

 So Jude did the stupidest thing she could’ve possibly done in that situation.

She ran.

______________________________________________________________________ 

JUDE

Mind galloping, breaths chasing one another and legs seemingly with a brain of their own. Jude couldn’t get her thoughts straight. When she read Cardan’s note, she wrenched open her door got the hell out of there. It was a foggy winter evening, too early for most of the castle to have woken up but dark enough to feel like late in the night. Running through the palace halls, Jude was acutely aware of how hard it was for her to see in this dark. And of how easily Cardan could find her in this environment.

Chest heaving, Jude turned corner after corner, disarrayed mind making it difficult to recognize where she was going. Every once in a while she would pass a stoic guard or a startled maid, but all she could was hope they’d ignore her. Reaching a dead end, she let out a huff of frustration, turning on her heel, planning to retrace her steps until she could find the path out of the castle.

Jude was only able to take one step before she heard someone coming her way. Panicking, Jude flung open the first door she saw, jumping inside and shutting the door as quietly as she could. Looking around desperately, Jude searched for a place to hide. The room was illuminated by moonlight coming through a large window, displaying a vanity, closet, large bed and a writing desk. It seemed to be a spare bedroom, only used on rare occasions when there were too many guests to fit in the guest bedrooms in the main hall of the palace. Now that she realized where she was, Jude could begin planning how to get out. Hearing the steps fast approaching, she glanced at the door nervously, quickly ducking under the bed and stifling her trembling breaths.

She didn’t want to accept the fact that she’d have to leave and face Cardan eventually. At least she could postpone it for as long as possible. Breath catching in her throat as the footsteps approached the door, Jude waited, closing her eyes out of nervousness.

One, two, three seconds.

It seemed the footsteps were leaving. Jude let out the breath that was hiding in her lungs. It must’ve been a maid, awoken early to clean before the palace residents began their day. Or maybe Cardan actually walked past her. Once the surge of adrenaline passed, Jude realized that there were at least three wires jammed into her skin from the underside of the bed. Grunting, she slowly pulled herself from her hideout, standing up shakily. Looking at the door, Jude considered her options. Should she run for it? Find the nearest exit? Or should she stay put? If she waited until the castle has awoken, would it be easier for her to leave? With her mind busy deliberating, it took Jude a moment too long to realize that something felt wrong.

Frowning, Jude turned, seeing that something definitely was wrong. She sensed the blood drain from her face.

On the bed, illuminated by moonlight almost as if mocking her, a creamy envelope lay on pristine sheets 

Oh god he’s in the room. 

Jude began to shake, almost unable to move towards the bed. She knew that this was a game to him. She didn’t know where he was, why he was waiting, but she knew the moment she read it, she was fucked.

Moving her legs, almost as if in a trance, Jude approached the parchment. Picking it up and ripping it open, her heart stopped at the words inside.

I’ll make you regret hiding from me

 Dropping the piece of paper like it was on fire, Jude jerked her eyes around the room, looking for the King. She knew she shouldn’t have run. How did she think that was going to end? Looking around again, she tried looking deep into the shadows-

Before she could scream, a hand was over her mouth and the other like a vise around her waist, pressing her back to a large frame. Jude felt the planes of his muscles through her shirt, a body nearly as familiar to her as her own, yet nerve-raking in this moment. She tried in vain to wiggle out of his grip, but his hold only tightened until she could no longer move.

“Missed me?” A sickly sweet voice pooled in her ear. “Clearly not, as you haven’t been to see me yet, darling. And running from me? I’d think you’d have realized by now just how much trouble you are in. Clearly, you must not be taking me very seriously.”

Hands now moving to her hips, Cardan shoved both her panties and trousers down to pool around her thighs. Jude could smell the alcohol on his breath, which made him all the more volatile. A crazed laugh crossed Jude’s lips. Now that she was finally at the culmination of three weeks of anxiety, Jude felt a strange sense of amusement at the situation she’d gotten herself into.

But before she could realize the mistake in her reaction, Cardan snatched a hand away from her hip and a loud CRACK echoed around the room. She heard the sound before she felt the bloom of fire on the exposed flesh of her backside.

With an embarrassingly loud yelp, Jude fell forward from the impact, sprawling on the bed, smile wiped clean off her face. As she felt Cardan grab her chin and turn it his way, she knew he saw a mix of arousal, pain and mostly shock on her face. Facing him directly for the first time since that call three weeks ago, she realized that her assessment of seeing his anger in person was correct. Jude’s stomach dropped as she took in the fury in his expression, mixed with dark desire in his eyes. Still fully clothed except for the bottoms crumpled at her thighs, Jude felt strangely exposed as Cardan glared at her heaving chest and paling cheeks.

“I’m not playing games, sweetheart.” A low command. 

Gaze travelling down his body, Jude’s pupils blew open, as her fantasy from three weeks ago rushed into her head. Belt securely attached at Cardan’s hips, Jude’s breaths stuttered. And, of course, the bastard noticed. Looking down, he saw what made her so distraught, and a wicked gleam shone in his gaze. With hooded eyes, he slowly looked up at her, beginning to unbuckle his belt. 

Jude thought she would hyperventilate. Her breathing became so ragged that she couldn’t hear the sheets rustling as she began to scramble backwards. Meanwhile, Cardan slowly pulled out the strap, holding it in his fist.

In a flash, he cracked it against his open palm, the sound reverberating through Jude’s bones. Quirking his head to the side he looked at her.

“Come here.”

Jude shook her head, whimpering, still crawling backwards.

“Now.”

Jude froze when she heard the steel edge in his voice. Cardan quickly used the opportunity to grab her ankle from across the bed and drag her towards him. Knowing from his expression that he really would use the belt on her, she pled.

“Please! I’ll be good, I won’t tease you again. I’m so sorry for running, please don’t!” 

He looked at her contemplatively. Then at the strap in his hand. Narrowing his eyes, he dropped it on the floor. Jude nearly wept in relief. 

“Fine. Not this time. But there better not be a next time,” Cardan growled. “And you’re still getting punished.”

Standing over her, Cardan leaned down towards her pelvis. After the terror of the last few seconds, Jude’s body was looking for release. Her legs clenched together of their own accord, thighs heating from his predatory gaze. Seeing her reaction, a cruel smirk stretched Cardan’s features.

“Are you enjoying this, my dear Jude?” He asked, voice turning to steel. “Seems we should do something about that, because you really shouldn’t be.”

Cardan tore off her pants and underwear in one go, leaving her lower body completely bare. Sitting down on the bed, he wrenched her over his lap. Adjusting her hips over his legs and growing hardness, she fell a chill sweep her body. Oh god it’s about to happen. 

Hiking her shirt up under her breasts, her ass was completely exposed to the cold air of the room. She could still feel the sting in the shape of his handprint, and her blood raced faster at the thought of more of them. Slowly, almost thoughtfully, Cardan pulled her thighs apart, spreading her legs behind her. Jude’s face heated, wondering why he would do that if he was going to focus on her backside.

“Obey all of my orders, is that clear?” Cardan said in a clipped tone.

Breathing raggedly, Jude kept her mouth shut, concentrating on keeping her anxiousness down. To her shock, Cardan quickly swatted her right between her legs. Though not a very hard smack, Jude’s hips still jumped as her body instinctively tried to get away from the sting, sharp cry leaving her lips.

“What do we do when the King asks us a question, sweetheart?”

Jude bit back a sob. “We answer.”

He pulled her hair painfully. “We. Answer. What?”

“We answer, Your Majesty.”

“Well?”

“You are to be obeyed, my King.” Jude panted 

“Good girl,” Cardan chided in her ear, pulling her head up by her hair. “And that was a warning strike, dear. If I find you ignoring, disobeying or lying to me again, I won’t hold back.”

Cardan pulled back with a sigh, dictating sternly, “Keep you legs open for me.”

Jude felt Cardan’s hand cup her backside, rubbing away the nearly gone sting from a few minutes ago.

“So, remind me, how long is it you won’t be able to sit for?”

Jude’s stomach dropped. She had completely forgotten about that. Three weeks. Thinking of the alcohol on Cardan’s breath, she wondered if he’d even remember how harshly he was supposed to punish her.

Slowly, with trepidation in her voice, Jude whispered, “Two weeks, my King”

She knew she fucked up the moment she felt him shift. His hand cracked down between her legs with more force than she could handle. Crying out, she shut her thighs instinctively. Without hesitation, he wrenched them apart again, walloping with as much force in the same spot. She couldn’t help but scream and shut her legs again.

Two more times. Two more loud snaps followed by louder shrieks before Jude managed to keep her trembling legs open as he’d ordered.

Panting and sobbing into her arm, Jude felt the sticky warmth of her arousal coating her stinging skin. She sensed Cardan carefully drag a finger through the wetness, sweet burn of calloused skin on her abused folds eliciting a moan through her tears. He grabbed her chin with his other hand, turning her wide eyes and quivering lips his way.

Leaning in, he whispered, “Good girls don’t get wet when they’re being spanked.”

Dropping her face, burning from embarrassment, Jude felt Cardan lean back once more.

“Now let’s try again, now that you know what will happen if you lie to me. How. Many. Weeks?”

“Three,” she murmured, “Your Majesty.”

“That’s right,” Cardan cooed. “And I don’t know about you, but I’m tiring of this foreplay. Shall we get to the actual punishment now, sweetheart? 

Jude’s tear-stricken eyes widened. She forgot that Cardan hadn’t even yet begun. Shit.

______________________________________________________________________ 

JUDE

Waiting for Cardan to begin was torture. She thought that what he’d done so far was painful, but this was worse.

Right after the walloping between her thighs, Cardan had lifted her up carefully, setting her to sit on one of his legs. She’d hissed at the contact between her sex and the rough texture of Cardan’s pants, but didn’t complain. At that point he’d taken off the rest of her clothes, leaving her sitting naked in front of him. Gently, he’d brought up a hand and swiped at a tear track with his thumb. But then she was right over his lap again in a smooth flip, sweet moment over.

Now she was waiting for him to start what he’d promised, as he seemed to mull over how he was going to punish her best, rubbing her backside absentmindedly. Jude tensed up as Cardan suddenly began talking.

“Don’t you know how much you’ve embarrassed me? When I nearly choked on my spit in front of the generals?” Smack!

Jude recoiled from the crack of his hand on her ass with a loud cry, but he just continued lecturing her.

“You had no damn right to look so fucking good in that picture” Smack! “All naked and perfect” Smack! “But of course I couldn’t do anything about it.” Smack! “Because I was in the middle of a fucking meeting!” SMACK!

He finished his statement as a growl, following up with a particularly painful strike. At this, point Jude’s eyes had begun tearing up again, ass burning worse and worse with each blow.

“And even before that, you didn’t even bother explaining that picture app to me” Smack! “I just suddenly got a photo of you in practically nothing.” Smack! “And you expected me not to say anything?” Smack! “And then the picture fucking disappeared?!” SMACK!!

Every few words were punctuated with the sounds of bruises forming on her ass, the loudest ones echoing embarrassingly throughout the room, as Cardan’s discipline steadily increased in intensity.

“For three months” Smack! “FOR THREE GODDAMN MONTHS”

Cardan’s hand fell thrice in rapid succession, cementing his point.

“I felt like exploding, unable to see you for so long ” Smack! “But constantly thinking about how fucking hot you looked in those photos” Smack! “And then,” Smack! “ You fucking patronize me by sending two” Smack! “Goddamn pictures” Smack! “Of you naked” Smack! “Right before you came back!” SMACK! 

“Please, I’m s-sorrry,” Jude blubbered through her cries. He ignored her, left arm now holding down her squirming back with his full strength.

“You were in the most obscene” Smack! “Positions” Smack! “I’d ever fucking seen!” SMACK!!“And during another” Smack! “Fucking” SMACK! “MEETING.” 

Cardan followed his final sentence by six more strikes. Muffling her pained noises in her arm, Jude felt Cardan’s voice boom throughout the room nearly as loudly as his palm hitting bruised flesh. But when he next spoke, Cardan’s voice regained his usual distanced cool.

Rubbing Jude’s burning skin to the noise of her whimpers, Cardan spoke with a steel edge in his voice, “If you came to see me as soon as you got here four days ago, this is where I would have stopped. But since you chose to avoid me instead” Smack!

Jude let out a sob as he began again.

“I’m punishing you” Smack! “For thinking you could avoid your King” SMACK! “And get away with it.” 

Another half a dozen strikes and bite marks on the inside of Jude’s elbow.

Once done, Cardan paused, this time laying his hand on Jude’s lower back. Jude could feel the skin around her bruises numbing from the walloping, but the pained areas seemed to come into sharper focus, leaving Jude only able to focus on the heat under the sensitive skin of her backside. After a few moments, Jude’s hiccups slowly subsided; leaving her to foolishly begin hoping it was over. It seemed Cardan was waiting for the moment she would relax and think he was done, as he leaned in to deliver his cruel words. 

“Quick question darling, do you remember what I wrote in the second envelope?”

Jude’s heart froze. Oh no oh no oh shit oh fuck. She didn’t think she could take any more.

It took Jude a moment to find her voice, hoarse from her screaming, “…I don’t…remember, my King.”

Quick as a viper, Cardan grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him.

With narrowed eyes, he growled, “Are you sure about that?”

Knowing better than to lie, Jude gave in with a whimper, “…It said I would… regret… hiding from you”

She saw a dangerous smile split his face, right before he dropped her chin.

“Yes. It did.” He gloated. “I don’t think I need to tell you what that means.”

SMACK!!!

Jude cried out again, unprepared for the fresh onslaught on her abused backside.

“I told you directly” Smack! “That it was time for you to learn your lesson” SMACK! “But instead” SMACK!! “You chose to disobey me” SLAP!!

Jude shrieked as the last one landed between her legs again, re-igniting the sting she’d forgotten was there.

“You ran” Smack! “Instead of listening” Smack! “And then tried to hide, as if you really thought I wouldn’t find you.” SMACK!!

Cardan continued the onslaught, finishing his lecture and focusing on stoking the flames dancing on Jude’s over-sensitive skin with cruel strikes.

After his most painful walloping yet, Cardan let his hand rest on her hip. At this point, Jude definitely couldn’t take any more; shivering from Cardan’s heavy hand and the hiccupping sobs raking her body. But then Cardan moved his hand to her thigh. And froze.

“Fucking hell Jude, you’re soaked.”

Somehow, through the haze of pain, she had been so turned on that her arousal had coated the thighs. She was now acutely aware of how hard he was against her hip. Jude turned her head and looked up at Cardan through teary eyes.

She moaned, “…Your…fault.”

Cardan groaned, placing his arms under her knees and chest, flipping her over as he stood up, holding her in his arms. Then, he dumped her unceremoniously onto her stomach in the middle of the bed. Sighing into the cool covers, Jude gave herself  a moment to relax. Then, grabbing her ankles, Cardan pushed her up onto her knees, spreading her thighs obscenely before his gaze. Jude’s face reddened at what a sight she must’ve made; Bruised skin and weeping sex. She could hear Cardan’s clothes drop to the floor behind her, and Jude felt her body react excitedly.

Without further ado, Cardan grabbed her hips and slammed inside of her. Stars exploded behind Jude’s eyelids, blooming red from the friction of his dick against the burning skin between her legs. Jude moaned, shrieking when she felt him grab her bruised ass.

As he pounded her, a small part of Jude’s brain vaguely remembered how she’d hoped that her game would lead to some great rough sex. Well, mission fucking accomplished, I guess.

Burying her face in the sheets to muffle her cries, Jude held onto the covers as Cardan gripped her hips harder, and pushed against her welts over and over, nearing completion. When she felt him pulse inside of her, buried as deeply as he could go, Jude’s body could no longer support the dam holding back the arousal building up over the last hour. Jude screamed as her body shook with the hardest release she’d ever felt, nerve endings on fire and still sensitive from the spanking.

Groaning, Cardan stayed inside of her for a moment longer. When he pulled out, Jude felt her body unwilling to let go, and sighed in abjection of the feeling of emptiness when he was gone. Jude felt the bed dip as Cardan collapsed onto the sheets next to her.

Turning her head to face him, Jude narrowed her eyes. “That was really harsh.”

Cardan just grinned in return. “If you really thought that, how come I found a flood between your thighs afterwards?”

Jude reddened, confused and embarrassed by the truth of his statement.

“And you sounded pretty damn happy when you came,” He continued, grabbing her arm and pulling her to him.

Jude let out an exasperated groan, splaying out at his side and burying her face in the sheets once again.

After a moment, she managed to mutter, “Fine. That was the best release I’ve ever had.”

Then turning to Cardan, she growled, “But my ass still hurts like hell.” Cardan shrugged.

“You win some you lose some. I hope you learned your lesson. And,” Cardan continued with a chuckle, “now it’s my turn to watch you suffer for three weeks.”

Jude swatted his arm weakly and in return received a light slap on her ass. She yelped, and then settled back down into him. Still feeling the pleasant waves of pleasure lulling her body to sleep, Jude wondered if she should disobey Cardan more often.

[fallenesspoetry]

Master and Servant (full text)

AO3|FFN

Rating: Explicit/NC-17

Pairing: Nikki Bones, the Deputy Attorney General (OFC)/Donald Ressler

Warnings: Nudity, Swearing, OOC, PWP, Kink.

Summary: The late night briefing at the Attorney General’s office takes an unexpected turn.

Comments and feedback are very welcome!

Domination's the name of the game

In bed or in life 

They're both just the same 

Except in one you're fulfilled 

At the end of the day  

Depeche Mode — Master and Servant

  “Gone?! How? What the fuck, Ressler?!”

Nikki Bones, the Deputy Attorney General, was infuriated.

The elections were in two weeks and a half, and her key witness was missing!

She was torn by everyone, like a fucking sex doll.

First, it was the Attorney General, an old prick. He selfishly believed he could take an advantage of his deputy because she wasn't a man.

Then—the FBI's Assistant Director and his countless minions.

Finally, even journo cunts dared to bark at her. Last time they weren't so vocal, taking kickbacks for puff pieces to face-lift the Washington's law enforcement image.

Nikki wearily sighed, leaning against a massive desk. She casually adjusted her skirt with a smooth motion, though the cloth hadn't even gone up that far.

A potpourri of case files was arranged into perfectly neat stacks on her desk.

‘Cold Cases’, ‘Wiretap Affadavits’, ‘Review ASAP’.

There was even one folder stamped ‘Top Secret’. Now they all seemed cragged, absorbing their mistress's fury.

Her body, exhausted by today's marathon from courts to judges' chambers, wanted nothing more but blissfully soak in the bathtub. The time was just right—the sun was long gone and the clock's hand froze at ‘18:00’.

Donald Ressler, the FBI Special Agent, didn't rush to answer. His frown deepened into a scowl. Not giving a word, he made himself comfortable in the armchair.

If Nikki took the anger management class, she would eat the coach. So for your own safety, it was better to keep your mouth shut.

“Valdez has a homie he's been tight with.” Nikki leaned over to get the file. “The usual—crank, dope, illegal arms.” She put the brown folder back. “He might be useful,” her voice was well-pitched, and had a slight trace of the arrogant vibe to it.

Ressler unconsciously stroked his strawberry blond hair.

It was easy-peasy when you say it. The son-of-a-bitch was worse that Thelma and Louise.

“Give us a few days, we'll bring him in.” Ressler was struggling not to yawn like a schoolboy at the boring lesson.

He had to get some sleep tonight. To try, at least.

“Tomorrow, Agent Ressler,” Nikki snapped, her fingers clawing into the light-brown polished surface.

Donald glanced at her, stifling a loud groan.

Fuck. The night shift. Again. Wasting another twenty-four hours, hoping the thug would get his doped ass home.

Narcos should have taken this case. But no, it had been shoved into the FBI's throat like a motherfucking gag. The shit didn't seem complicated at first sight: a random passer-by caught a stray bullet. But when the Bureau ID'd him, the real headache showed up.

An unlucky fella was a diplomat of the closest country-ally to the US.

The timing was the worst of the worst. And the FBI, the AG office, and all the king's men had to deal with it asap.

At this very moment Nikki, absolutely terrifying in her anger, gave Ressler chills.

For a moment it seemed that her braid, a creepy lookalike to a serpent’s head, would sink its teeth right into his...

Donald mentally shut his eyes.

Enough with watching trash at night.

Nikki was almost the same age with him. Maybe, a bit older. As a Deputy Attorney General she had gotten herself a reputation of sorts. Her stare of steel made your guts shrink into a sticky knot of iciness.

“Okay, got it,” Donald casually clipped.

Ressler hoped they were done for the day. He still had to grab a change of clothes.

“Not ‘okay’, but ‘I'll do my best, Nikki’.”

Damn these narrow-minded bullheads! 

All the bumbling agents looked the same: a black suit, white shirt, fancy watch, holster, and a badge. No doubt, they even styled their hair with the same freaking hair gel.

Nikki saw her objective clearly—throw another scumbag to rot in jail and close the case.

The feds had one job.

To get her an unquestionably solid proof and a criminal to prove guilty.

But the idiots would always suck along the way, so Nikki took the rap for their constant fuck-ups.

“Remember, one way or another others will ride your back. Be better than that. Give them a hard time they deserve.” 

Her grandma, Tessa Bones, was used to say that all the time.

Tessa was raised in Alaska. The harsh climate and physical labor had forged the girl's unwavering will. Soon enough Tessa had learned to stand her ground. And she had passed it to Nikki.

Nikki proved to be a great learner, because in no time half of the Washington's G-men gave her a nickname:

‘The Batshit Bitch’.

But Nikki didn't give a lick about it.

Donald almost rolled his eyes. When something went sideways all these mouthpieces would always rant and steam. He had been with the Bureau long enough to claim that.

He couldn't deny this mess didn't bother him too. It fucking did. And it had been his headache for the past few weeks.

Just yesterday Valdez had made a deal. And then, out of sudden, the next day he went dark like a fucking radio. He even knocked three WITSEC marshals out on his way.

Donald's head was buzzing with thoughts.

Something's off. What if Valdez wasn't alone? What if he didn’t actually go willingly? What if someone from his old gang took him out?.. It made sense—he rat on his own homies. And made a good deal. Everybody won. Well, up to this moment. Or maybe, the dick had cold feet and that's it.

“...the most incompetent...”

Nikki's agitated voice was drilling into his brain. She went on and on. On and on.

Donald didn't really want to listen. Anyway, he kept a good poker face, and so far it was working.

Meanwhile, Nikki kept ranting. Over and over. Like a broken record. The more she did, the more Ressler was struggling not to snap back at her.

It felt like a bomb was ticking somewhere in his brain. He could almost see the stopwatch approaching the last seconds.

Donald took a deep breath, and tried to follow the conversation.

Or, rather, Nikki's fuming.

She was scolding him like he was a helpless kitten, leaving a landmine on his mistress shiny floor. If Nikki could, she would rub his face into that. He had no doubts she actually could.

Well, fuck it all. 

It wasn't the first time someone told him off for doing his job.

“You don't understand how high the stakes are,” Nikki's voice oozed with iced fury. Her hazel eyes darkened into a lifeless void, like someone cut the lights to them.

How fucking dare you?!

Ressler jumped up from his armchair, barely holding himself together.

“I’m not your punching bag, Bones!”

He drew closer to her. There was hardly an inch left between them.

A curious observation flashed at the edge of Donald's mind. Unlike others Nikki didn't avert her eyes. Quite the opposite. She gave him back the most loathsome look he had ever gotten. With interest.

Nikki fixed her eyes on Ressler, hanging onto him like he was a prey to wolf. The rich green of his eyes jogged her memory. This morning she left her cactus plant at home unwatered...

Well, look at this. The Suit could use a nozzle to cool himself off. Swollen like a porcupine, ready to throw his spines. Eyes squinted. Lips pursed tight. And the cheekbones could cut a deep wound on you.

He would get over it. He was a big boy, after all.

If she had gotten a cent each time her words hurt the men's ego, she would have been a millionaire.

Nikki shrugged. She tried to retreat, clicking her heels, but accidentally brushed the file with her hip. The folder fell off the desk, exposing a clutter of subpoenas, motions, search warrants, and god knows what else.

Cursing, Bones bent down, but Ressler beat her to it. The distance grew short between them in a few seconds.

At the very moment when they simultaneously reached to pick up the file, Ressler caught a delicate trace of mint and vanilla in the air. Sweet, yet refreshing.

How would it feel on her skin?..

‘Too many romcoms lately?’

His inner voice was asked to travel into a bunch of unpleasant places.

Arranging the scattered ‘justice salad’, Ressler put it back together in the file. He was almost ready to rise up, as he cast his glance at Nikki.

She towered over him, drumming her fingers on the desk. Was it the play of light, or was it his mind's trick, but right now Donald felt himself the tiniest gray of sand at the bottom of the ocean.

He hurried to give up the thought. Yet his brain, worn-out from the never-ending day, concluded differently.

Nikki was almost the same height as him. For an odd reason, Donald decided to focus not at giving back the file. Rather, he lagged on Nikki's dark gray pencil skirt. It seductively revealed her toned legs in sheer nylons. Some part of him wished to find out if her ankles were as tender as they seem.

A moment later Ressler had his eyes on Nikki's slim-fit pale pink shirt. It was buttoned up at her throat. The shirt was so close-fitting one could catch a glimpse of ripe breasts in a bra.

Bones would twist his cock in a knot for such indecency. Or worse.

Man, you need a girlfriend.

Unfortunately, this job wasn't relationship-friendly. You were a lucky fella, if you hit the bottle on your day off. But getting a girlfriend… To be honest, he wasn't in the mood for any long-term commitment lately.

Nikki was almost ready to go into one hot tirade about how sick she was from all this.

But she couldn't.

She was preoccupied with Ressler. He glued his eyes to her, wolfing her down like some steak from The Capital Grille!

Dear God, is such eye stripping even legal?

Suddenly her knees refused to abide by gravity laws. Luckily, there was a desk to lean against.

It felt like enormous mutant butterflies spread their wings in her stomach and below.

To Nikki's surprise, she didn't dare to put Ressler in his place. Quite the contrary—her body reminded her a thing. For the past half a year it had been only getting extra thirty minutes in the shower before bed. So much for stress-relieving.

The man to satisfy a ton of extremely compelling demands was a pain to find. And she cared for herself too much to get laid by just anybody.

Nikki made a brief assessment of the subject in front of her. Like all Quantico grads, he didn't cut a day in the gym. There was no need for him to show off his biceps muscles since one could clearly spot them through his black tailored jacket. Something told her that below the shoulders everything was right too.

Most of the time Ressler was nothing but a pain in her ass. However, as a man he wasn't that bad. Quite a pretty face, actually. Most probably, not just the face…

On one hand, if he weren't such a sass, they could have… 

Hell no. If journos sniffed barely a whiff of the affair, both hers and his careers would go down the drain quicker than she come.

On the other hand, Ressler was many things, but he definitely wasn't a loudmouth.

Nikki gracefully sat on the desk. Crossing her legs, she gave Ressler an innocently confused look.

Finally, Donald rose up from the floor and returned Nikki the file.

It looked like no one was going to twist and turn his manhood—And why is that?—but the sudden change in her raised a lot of suspicions.

Could she?.. No, no way. 

Ressler was used to her stepping on his toes whenever they would meet.

Bones? A crush? On him?

He would rather believe in UFOs over Washington.

“Thank you, Donald.” 

Nikki didn't sound like her usual sharp self. Her voice shifted into honeyed sweetness, caressing every inch of his being. Ressler didn't register her calling him “Donald” for the first time they had been working together.

Now he was trapped by a very weird sensation. It seemed like a fluffy and extremely friendly feline had jumped into his lap, tickling him with fur.

‘That bad, huh? Getting off on kittens, ew.’

‘Fuck you.’

Meanwhile Nikki put the file away, deliberately stretching herself. A moment later she was back into her usual position, and—Damn!—crossed her legs again. Sharon Stone could have been proud.

Right now Ressler wanted nothing but to loosen his tie. 

Or not. 

Rip those tiny teasing buttons off her shirt... Fuck her. Hard. On that desk.

A switch flipped in his mind: the blood rushed through his veins drumming a wild beat all over his body. It thundered in the temples, making it barely possible to focus.

He prayed to all gods Bones hadn't seen his boner.

But the gods didn't give a shit about him.

Nikki curved her lips in a foxy smile. Their saturated dark shade resembled a juicy cherry, just picked from the tree.

Probably, he was overreacting.

Is it one of her games?

They had been working together for a long time. Just enough to get one thing.

You should always watch your step with Nikki Bones. She would swallow you down and wouldn't even choke on you.

Bad idea. Very, very bad idea...

“You gonna just stand there, or we gonna do it?”

Donald had barely slipped “do what”, but stopped at the last minute.

Watching Ressler, Nikki had almost rolled her eyes.

What an idiot.

She had to take matters into her own hands if she wanted to get home by seven. Or seven thirty. She wouldn't hope for more.

Nikki casually walked to the office door. She looked out to see if the hall was empty. It indeed was. Not even a janitor.

The lock clicked as she closed the door behind her, facing Donald.

“You know, Ressler, you surprise me sometimes.”

Her voice resembled a soft purr of the feline who had just had her lunch. Giving him another smile, Bones clicked her heels to the window.

Nikki could almost hear his brain rattling, doing, at least, an extremely difficult risk assessment.

For real? How'd he graduated?

Anyways, his IQ was not her concern.

Definitely not a cherry-boy. Why so tight then?

Ressler absentmindedly buttoned his white shirt's left cuff again and snugged the collar.

“Really? How come?” he wondered, nervously fixing his tie.

Nikki didn't answer. She was busy closing countless blinds on the windows of her spacious office.

Of course, one could refer to Section 7, Item 10:

“You are not to, at any circumstances, have a close relationship or sexual intercourse with your colleague.”

And you certainly shouldn't risk your neck doing it with the lead prosecutor on the case. 

Something was telling Ressler that if Nikki had the chance, she would have thrown this case to someone else. Maybe, a half green lawschool grad, who would do all the dirty work.

Apparently, her boss was pretty much the same dick as his own.

Right at this moment Nikki was struggling with the last blind, the left from the door, muttering something inaudible to herself. She was almost on her toes.

When she reached for the cord again, her skirt went up a few inches. Just enough for inappropriate thoughts. This time Nikki didn't adjust it like she had done it before.

Face it: you want her.

If he read the signs correctly, the feeling was mutual.

Nikki, finally done with the blinds, turned to him.

“It's just a hook up, Ressler. Not rocket science.”

He tuned out the cheap shot.

Bones hadn't been the first one. And she definitely wouldn't be the last one.

Maybe, this was one of her kicks.

Well, whatever blows your skirt up.

“Just a hook up?” Ressler mimed Nikki's casual tone. He drew closer to her, his jacket slightly brushing her shirt. “I can't remember doing it at the Attorney General's office.”

Not waiting for her invitation, Donald pressed Nikki against the door. Their eyes met—hers, a dark roasted coffee, and his—a rich green tobacco.

Ressler barely brushed Nikki's lips with his, as she grabbed him below the belt. He unconsciously gasped when she squeezed him.

It wasn't painful. Rather, unexpected. Or maybe, most of the time there was a lot of decent women on his way.

Donald had no doubts Nikki Bones was the vicious woman every mother would protect her son from.

However, under the current circumstances, it was an advantage.

Nikki vigorously pulled Ressler close, her nails scratching the back of his head, almost clawing into the skin. She slid her hand to his groin again. Grazing his lower lip with her teeth, she kept on stroking his boner. 

Her lips were awfully close. Close enough for a kiss, but Bones didn't let him. She took her time teasing him. He could feel her breath on his cheek. On his neck. On his earlobe. On his lips.

Vultures play with their food first.

Sunday school hadn’t prepared him for anything like that.

Donald couldn't shake off the sneaking suspicion Nikki had her own agenda.

You think I'm gonna beg? You wish.

In the next moment Nikki impatiently forced her tongue between his lips. She kissed him hard, like her life depended on it, almost sucking the oxygen out of his lungs.

Tired of being benched, Ressler tried again to take the lead.

He couldn’t—whenever he pulled up her skirt, Nikki would slap his hand. It hurt a bit, but Donald didn't have the time to process it—Bones would slam her lips into his. Her lipstick smeared, tasting like sour chocolate.

It was rough.

Their bodies wrestled in dominating: either of them got pressed up against the door over and over.

Nikki took, but didn't give in return.

“Bones…” Ressler hissed hoarsely, not recognizing his own voice.

“You're giving up, boy scout?” Nikki whispered, softly biting his earlobe.

Not that tough, huh?

Sucking Ressler's neck in a vampire-like manner, Nikki fought the desire to give him a hickey or two.

She knew all these dominatrix tendencies both at work and in bed were not okay. Regular folks didn't get off on any of the kinky shit she usually did… Well, truth be told, she was hardly a definition of normal.

Nikki kissed Ressler again. This time she was slow, less aggressive. It felt like taking a sip of the finest Tuscany wine. There was a lot for her to savor: Ressler's lips, full and lithe, gave into the tiniest change of pace.

Donald couldn't help but notice Bones' fervor lessened. Now her kisses were delicate, almost like any other ordinary woman he had before. He didn't get to think it over—Nikki's hand slid to his groin again. This time she squeezed and then rubbed him, not even breaking the kiss.

“Bones, if you like him, I can take my pants off.”

She didn't answer, but her left hand lurked around his waist under his jacket.

Something softly clicked.

God, no.

“Nikki…” Ressler slipped, but it was too late.

Bones smirked at him, toying with handcuffs.

Ressler unhooked his gun holster, and double-checked if the safety was on. He threw it on the closest of two enormous armchairs in front of Nikki's desk. Just in case. Russian roulette wasn't his cup of tea. Not today. And definitely not with Nikki Bones.

Nikki, laughing at Ressler's fruitless attempts to snatch the handcuffs back, slipped from his grip. Making sure Ressler watched her, she unzipped her skirt, smoothly stripping it down. The nylons went down a bit quicker. Her fingers went up, unbuttoning the shirt. At last, she brushed aside the clothes with her heel.

Everything screamed to get her laid, but Ressler just stood there, hypnotized. It wasn't like he hadn't seen a woman's strip for him before. He had. And not once. And not only in the strip club. Most women did that to entertain a man. To tease, yes; although they would let their man to call the shots later anyway.

Surely, Nikki Bones wasn't your average woman. And somehow Ressler knew—she did that to entertain no one but herself.

The message was crystal clear:

‘You don't get anything unless I let you.’

Meanwhile Nikki caressed herself. A sly smile was on her face again, when she was rubbing up her thigh. A second later her fingers snaked to her panties. 

She teased him, but hadn't taken anything off.

Donald's heart pounded somewhere in his throat when Nikki, done driving him crazy, took her heels off and jumped on the desk.

She crossed her legs again.

“The loser wears them, deal?” Nikki was eyeing him like a sniper would stare at his mark.

Handcuffs or Nikki?

That was a Shakespeare-like dilemma for him now.

“Nah, that won't do.” Nikki jumped down from the desk. Hiding the handcuffs out of sight, she pulled Ressler closer by the tie.

Bones was stripping the clothes quick and smooth: the jacket was ripped off from him and thrown away; it took her less than a minute to cope with the buttons on his shirt. Finally, the belt's buckle clacked, and she forced him out of his pants.

“Much better now. One shot, boy scout.”

Nikki, sitting on the desk again, cocked her head. Swinging the handcuffs, she smirked at him.

Sadly for Donald, he hated losing. Arguments, warm-up drills in the gym, football training in college… You name it.

His handcuffs, now on Bones' right hand's index finger, dangled with a soft metallic sound.

It was so circus-like.

Unfortunately, right now Nikki cracked the whip, not him.

It occurred to him Bones must have had sadism as her major: she unhooked her bra from the front. It happened so fast—Ressler had barely blinked. Now she was fondling her breasts, her thighs spread.

Donald felt like a pet whose treat was close enough to see, but not close enough to take a bite.

He made a desperate lunge for the handcuffs.

“You sure you're FBI?” Bones wrapped her arms around him. The unpleasant metallic iciness tickled his neck.

Nikki slid down from the desk. She almost coiled Ressler in a snake-like manner, rubbing her breasts against his chest. Her nails were scraping his shoulderblades. 

The handcuffs went down his spine, sending the uncomfortable chill across his back.

“You lost, boy scout.”

Bones didn’t even loosened her grip—in an instant she locked his wrists together behind his back.

Click!

Ressler jerked, but Nikki was faster. Her hand slid into his boxer briefs.

“Don't.”

He winced—she had his balls in a death grip.

Stripping them both off the rest of the underwear, Nikki pushed him into the closest armchair.

Donald was almost sore with need, when Nikki's stomach accidentally brushed his hard-on. She didn’t pay attention to that, getting comfortable in his lap.

“You'd better…hurry,” Ressler growled when Nikki was slowly stroking his chest. Tenderly. Lightly. Almost lovingly. But he knew better.

Pleasure was always followed by pain—he had learned that already with Nikki. It was sick, yet somehow satisfying.

He must be a masochist.

Donald's mind hung up sending “SOS” to his brain, and his pride hid somewhere dark, anticipating Nikki's next move. He was getting high on this game of hers—the sex was rather a bonus. BDSM wasn't exactly his kick, so he had no idea where it came from.

Nikki playfully bit his nipple, sucking on it. Wrapping her fingers around his cock, she slowly worked her way up and down, keeping eyes on Ressler. She went on like that for a few minutes as if testing his resistance. The pace changed, and Ressler, almost losing it, whimpered like a kid who lost his favorite toy.

She gave him a break. It looked like he needed it—cheeks reddened; breath—heavy. His hair was now tousled like a stray ginger cat's fur. Nikki ran her fingers through it, tugging on it hard, until she heard the angry growl. Her hand slid down to his refined neck, its firmness reminding her of Roman sculptures at The National Gallery of Art.

There was one thing Nikki was thrilled to try. Sadly, it was almost impossible to talk any man into it. As a matter of fact, Ressler didn't have much of a choice here, anyway.

Nikki kept caressing Donald, scratching under his chin as if he was her pet. Just as she sunk her teeth into his Adam's apple, a thought flashed in her mind.

Condoms.

She had no doubt Ressler was prepared for any surprise. Tugging on his hair again, Nikki slid from his lap.

Where's this damn jacket?

“Left side, inside pocket,” Donald said in a raspy voice. He hadn't caught his breath yet. Boston Marathon was a child's play comparing with all those things Bones had been doing to him.

“Glad to see your brain's still on, Agent Ressler.” Nikki was back in his lap, a condom in her hand.

Ressler glanced suspiciously at her long nails and the flimsy wrapper. Fatherhood wasn't his intention for, at least, next five years. And Nikki Bones as a mother hen… Hell, just a thought of it could make a dick limp.

“Sure you can handle it?”

Not giving him a courtesy of reply, Nikki opened the wrapper, the condom dropping out on her palm. She rolled it on Ressler's hard-on in one smooth motion.

Donald caught his breath, when Nikki saddled him. She wasn't the first to be on top of him. But surely—the first one who had been perfectly still. 

She literally did nothing.

Just as Ressler tried to mouth a snarky response, he felt the tight, almost suffocating grip on his cock. Nikki didn't move an inch, yet she was getting him off. Her face was filled with sheer lust—having him helpless and handcuffed must have done the trick.

Ressler leaned back in the armchair. His arms, wrists, and hands grew painfully numb. The numbness mixed with pleasure in an odd, perversive manner, whilst Nikki tortured him, slowly swaying forward and back.

He was completely under, not giving a flying fuck about anything at this moment.

Her rhythm wasn't steady. Sometimes it was slow—Nikki would arch her back, going up and down on him. She occasionally rubbed her clit, moaning softly, almost shyly. At times like these she didn't look like her usual arrogant self.

Soon enough her pace changed. Bones was roughly grinding onto Ressler, clawing her fingers into his shoulders. She couldn't help herself, but left a few visible marks on them. Her high-pitched cry echoed across the emptied office.

Through the blurred world, framed with their bodies' heat, Ressler sometimes got a kiss or two from Nikki.

Or, rather, Nikki let him touch her, leaning towards him. She would wrap her arms around him, pressing his head to her chest. Her braid was messy, its strands tickling his cheeks.

The rich vanilla scent was all over her skin—Donald felt its bitter sweetness on his tongue. Not sure he would have the chance later, he flicked his tongue between her breasts. If Nikki wanted more, she pulled him by his hair and guided his lips to her nipples.

“Come…earlier…you're…dead.” Her voice hissed somewhere above Ressler's temple. 

Nikki was riding him in such a barbaric manner, Ressler could hardly breathe out.

So good.

Dear God, it felt so fucking good.

Now and then she might have let a guy be in charge. But tonight...The absolute possession—that what got her off. The sex… Not so important.

No, it's obvious Ressler had had someone. Maybe, a few, even. But now, at this very moment, she owned him. This got her so high no dope could match it.

Hers. And no one else's.

Control was her aphrodisiac.

Bones felt Ressler was closer to the release than her. At once she locked her fingers around his neck. 

Donald opened his eyes wide, his body jerking, as he hungrily gasped for air.

At this moment Nikki cried out, freeing Ressler's neck from her grip. She pressed him to herself, wrapping her arms around him. 

Ressler's hair was soaking wet, a few drops of sweat dripped down his temples. The look on his face was hilariously amusing—half shocked, half doped from the aftermath.

Thanks to her it was a perfect timing.

Nikki kissed Ressler. The kiss was far more tender and delicate than she meant to. Anyway, he earned it.

“Stellar job, boy scout.”

“Stop calling me like that, Bones,” Ressler muttered, trying to move his stiffened wrists.

Nikki tugged on his hair once again, petting him like a cat. She took the condom off him, tying a firm knot at the end, and left him for a moment.

How she managed to do it with those nails was a mystery to Ressler.

Stretching his neck, Donald noticed a couple of red marks on his chest. He would be lucky if she didn't give him a hickey. Right now he wished nothing more but to take the fucking handcuffs off his wrists.

“Need a hand in here.”

Nikki was half through with putting on her nylons, not even bothering to look at him.

Finally, she raised her eyes on Ressler.

Ah, the work of art.

Each muscle in his athletic body was deliciously tensed as he tried to get out of the handcuffs.

He should put those on more often.

If she could, she would lock him in her trunk and take home with her.

Sentiments are a nasty bitch, huh?

Nikki threw at Ressler his jacket and pants.

“You kidding, right?”

“Use your mouth. You're pretty good at it.”

“Find the fucking key!”

Nikki zipped her skirt.

“The magic word.”

“Nikki!..”

She did her hair and then adjusted her shirt.

“A word, Donald.”

“Please!..”

Nikki approached Ressler. She almost licked her lips at the sight of him. Handcuffing a guy like that... 

It was definitely worth it.

Bones was thoroughly going through the pile of clothes in his lap, smirking at his helplessness.

Once she quit searching, her smirk faded.

“It’s gone,”  Nikki said, looking baffled.

“Gone?!”

Hiding another foxy smile, she clicked her heels to her own desk.

Today was the boy scout’s lucky day: she always kept a spare key.

Just in case.

[neoblogcrying]

“Let’s Play a Game” pt.5

Here is the next part! This will be up on AO3 as well very soon! There is a poll this time!

By now, Shen Yuan should be better, don’t you think?

Who is to say? Maybe his system moderator decided to troll him for a while longer. 

Oh—that guy’s pretty sadistic, huh? The way he subtracts points… he’s a demon.

Stop that, hurry and start the next segment. The System-Temp is waiting.

Sorry~! Let’s get this show on the road!

As usual, the system moderators were conversing with each other before they resumed the gameplay. The System temp was always at their mercy to wait for the game to continue to see what would come of the story after their choice (if they made one).

Beep!

“You’re showing improvement.” Shen Jiu commented offhandedly.

“Of course, I’ve been rigorously taught after all...” Shen Yuan sighed, recalling the times Shen Jiu would task him to fixing his hair and being scolded over how he wasn’t ‘doing it right’. It wasn’t as though Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan would always be there for each other, especially when one was playing the Shen Qingqiu role, so it was imperative to be able to fix their appearance on their own should anything happen.

Shen Jiu was much more particular about his appearance than Shen Yuan was, so he was perfectly able to fix his appearance at any time it was needed. Shen Yuan, however… was not that as skilled. In fact, most of the times, Shen Jiu would style his hair for him.

The reason being that Shen Yuan would argue that Shen Jiu did it best, and he wasn’t good at it. Why don’t you show your younger brother how to do it properly? What a wonderful and caring older brother, you are! So talented!

The elder of the two twins was no idiot, so he knew what Shen Yuan was planning, but he still gave into the praise when he was in a good mood. This was not the case for when he was in a bad mood, as was the case for today.

Shen Jiu was in a foul mood this morning, so he forced Shen Yuan to style his own hair, and he was tasked to style Shen Jiu’s hair as well.

With one fluid movement, Shen Jiu reproachfully smacked Shen Yuan’s hand. “Is that a complaint? You should be able to do this on your own if you truly wish to play the part as Shen Qingqiu. If you refuse, then stay here like a sheltered Princess.”

It didn’t hurt, but Shen Yuan did reel his hand backwards, mentally pouting. He’d upset his brother who was only looking out for him, with his small remark. He understood that his brother was very sensitive to certain things, especially anything that may connote that he was an ill-intended person.

While Shen Yuan couldn’t say that Shen Jiu was a ‘kind person’ by the strictest of terms, he wouldn’t say that he’s scum either. He was a very complex individual who was likely to lash out due to his heavy emotional baggage.

“No complaints here, brother. Why don’t you check my work?” Shen Yuan stepped aside and sat next to his brother, smoothing out the wrinkles that appeared on his clothing as he sat down.

His hair was in order, his clothes were neat, and his facial expression was unmoving. He was the definition of an immortal cultivator.

He waited anxiously as his brother beside him moved. He rested his fan on his lap before he reached for his hair, gently feeling for any disorder. Shen Yuan had done a good job, it seemed. It felt exactly as it should, as though he’d styled his hair himself.

Most of his hair, aside from a few strands that framed his face, was pulled back into a half-ponytail, that was then adorned with an ornate hair crown. The hair that would otherwise get in his face was pulled up, while the rest was allowed to flow freely.

“You did good.” He offered only 3 words of praise for Shen Yuan, but that was more than enough for the younger man. Shen Jiu felt a slight tug on the corner of his sleeve. A quick glance out his peripheral vision revealed Shen Yuan breaking out of character to gaze at him expectantly.

He couldn’t understand it, but Shen Yuan seemed to crave attention, and he practically idolized Shen Jiu. What reason was there to idolize a trash-like human whose potential was stifled, he didn’t know. Perhaps this is what it was like to be an elder sibling.

Lightly, he pat Shen Yuan’s shoulder twice before he retracted his hand towards himself.

Shen Yuan’s facial expression lit up with joy as his brother understood his body language. Praise him in another way other than with words!

Yes, it was great to be praised by your brother, but more so than that… he was conditioning his brother! Get used to praising people! Maybe you’ll slip and praise Luo Binghe by accident! Get yourself some points, bro!

The fate of their future rests on your ability to treat the protagonist better!

He seemed to puff out his chest with pride, “I’ve secretly been practicing on my own. Haven’t I done well? Don’t you think I can do my hair properly?” Meaning, they no longer need to practice together like this in the morning, right?

These bonding moments between brothers were nice and all, but it was really  nerve-wrecking to have Shen Jiu staring at him like a hawk, waiting to strike with his fan should he make a mistake!

“Prove to me you can do it yourself 9 more times.”

Spartan, he’s a Spartan!

Of course, there was no way that Shen Jiu would let him off so easily. This was the reputation of Shen Qingqiu they were talking about after all.

“I’ll be sure to make you proud, brother.” No matter what adversities he faced, Shen Qingqiu never jumped off the ride otherwise known as ‘life.’ You could say he was as tenacious as a weed. He was ambitious, working hard to better himself, much different from how Shen Yuan was on Earth.

Maybe it was pity, but Shen Yuan truly wanted to support Shen Jiu. He had a new found appreciation for Shen Jiu because he happened to witness some of his past, and this appreciation soon turned into respect.

If you asked him, he’d say that he truly respected Shen Jiu and looked up to him. There was something about an underdog that made Shen Yuan want to support them and look up to their tenacity.

While he didn’t agree with how malicious Shen Jiu could be, it wasn’t as though he couldn’t understand. The most he could do is try to do damage control for his brother, and to help him learn better social skills.

If forcing himself to act a certain way to promote positive growth, he’ll do just that. He’s a pro at acting at this point, so what’s wrong with doing a little bit more? Though things were different, he still thought of everyone in the world as simple characters in a book.

All because the time was reversed, his thought process reversed as well in this regard.

“You’ll be late.” Shen Jiu reminded his brother.

It never ceased to amaze him how Shen Yuan could be so expressive, but the moment he had to step out as ‘Shen Qingqiu,’ he’d wipe every emotion off his face. His kind personality would be replaced by one that is standoffish.

With a flick of the wrist, ‘Shen Qingqiu’ covered the bottom half of his face with his fan. It was easier to look as though you were looking down on the rest of the world by utilizing a fan to cover your facial expressions.

He slid the door open and stepped out, leaving his brother behind. Shen Jiu could rest and study to his heart’s content.

“Shizun, good morning!” Disciples would greet him as he passed them by. He walked down the hallway without responding to them, as that’s what Shen Qingqiu would do. “Shizun~ Good morning!”

“Good morning.” Of course, he’d respond if one of the female disciples greeted him. It was well known to all that Shen Qingqiu had a soft spot to the female disciples.

The sun was out, and a gentle breeze tickled the face. It was a lovely day to be out, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been out like this. Shen Qingqiu was in a good mood, even if his facial expression didn’t convey this.

With the premise that he was patrolling the area to see if anything was amiss, he walked around aimlessly around Qing Jing Peak.

It’s been so long since he’d been out, he wanted to get a good look at everything to familiarize himself with his surroundings again.

Every pebble that crunched into the ground when he stepped on it, the scent of fresh air surrounding him, and the sounds of the young disciples diligently training themselves… it felt so new to him.

Shen Qingqiu wondered how his brother was faring at this time, was he relaxing? Did he bury his face into books or scrolls as he studied?

It certainly felt weird playing the role of Shen Qingqiu after being cooped up in their room for so long, he’d almost felt like Rapunzel or something.

He’d walked a full lap around the premises to see that almost nothing was amiss. Everything was in good order, and the disciples were diligently working hard… but there was something missing.

Where was the protagonist of this story? No, a few other disciples were missing if his memory was anything to go by.

Feet stopped as a foreboding sense of uneased settled over his heart. There was a 90% chance that the disciples were bullying Luo Binghe at this very given moment. He wanted to save him, but—

[System: Warning, that thought is dangerous. Even if the disciples know there are two people playing the Shen Qingqiu role, you must stick to character. It’s imperative no one can tell the difference between the two Shen Brother’s playing their role. OOC function has not been lifted, so please continue to play your role.]

What would Shen Qingqiu do at this point in time? Would he ignore the fact that disciples are missing to do something else, or would he go to join in tormenting Luo Binghe?

Shen Qingqiu was leaning towards the ‘Brother wouldn’t even notice people are missing and he’d do something else.’ It was one thing if one of the female disciples were missing, but a male one? Why would he care for that?

If Luo Binghe was missing, he’d prefer that, so the appropriate answer here would be to ignore the fact he’s noticed some of the male disciples (including the protagonist) were missing.

Now that he thought about it, someone else was missing, wasn’t she? If Luo Binghe wasn’t around, there usually meant that a certain someone would be with him—causing him more troubles.

Ning Yingying, couldn’t you please learn to use your brain and NOT cause Luo Binghe to be hated even more than he already is by his elder disciple brothers? Shen Qingqiu couldn’t help but lament over how one of Luo Binghe’s wives had this special skill of causing him trouble.

“Shizun, come help!” A bright voice called out to him with a loud voice.

He knew exactly what was happening here, Luo Binghe was being bullied and Ning Yingying had ran off to retrieve Shen Qingqiu to alleviate the situation. What she didn’t know was that Shen Qingqiu would follow her, tell her to leave (to get bandages or something), and then bully Luo Binghe as well the moment she ran off.

Honestly? Shen Qingqiu felt so depressed by this matter. Why was it that one of Luo Binghe’s main wives was so… so… SO STUPID?

If anything, this was the perfect chance to use to see what Luo Binghe was up to. It’s been so long since he’d seen the protagonist, and he was curious to know how much he’d grown! Also, he really wanted to know just how much damage his brother had caused.

Don’t you think he needs to know what he’s dealing with if he plans on hugging the golden thighs of the protagonist?

“Lead the way.” He spoke with the uninterested and lofty tone that everyone was used to, and of course, Ning Yingying was none the wiser about the switch. She immediately started leading the way towards the bamboo forest.

For sure, the other disciples had to be bullying Luo Binghe by fussing with him and forcing all the errands onto him.

With every twist and turn on the path, he followed Ning Yingying at a leisurely pace, a bit too slow for her liking. “Shizun, hurry! A-Luo is in danger!” She tried to appeal to his concern for his disciples (did Shen Qingqiu have any?) to make him walk faster.

If not for the System blaring warnings at him, he would have overtaken Ning Yingying and came to Luo Binghe’s rescue already! Alas, he has to stick to his role and walk slowly with an uncaring attitude.

Ning Yingying truly had to be grateful to him that he was even taking the time to follow her into the bamboo forest. Who cared for that ‘brat,’ anyways? Such a detestable fellow!

Sorry.

Truly Sorry, Luo Binghe. He doesn’t mean it, honest! He’s spouting all these lies mentally because he has to get into the mindset of the incorrigible Shen Qingqiu! He wanted to cry with every insult he had to tack onto his favorite protagonist.

It was hard to notice for anyone that wasn’t Shen Qingqiu, but he did hasten his steps by another step, and he rebuffed the system by excusing his action by wanting to keep Ning Yingying’s good opinion of him.

If there was one thing that he knew, it was that Shen Qingqiu was lenient towards the female disciples, and he’d never want for them to have a negative opinion of him. He was very oddly vain about his image, especially when it came from a woman’s perspective.

“A-Luo! It’s going to be okay now! I’ve brought Shizun!”

There was a 100% chance that her words just shattered his heart. Shen Qingqiu was willing to bet on it. Stepping in next to Ning Yingying, he could see that the elder disciples were holding Luo Binghe down. A rusty axe laid on the ground, and another disciple froze mid-action, allowing the water from the bucket to slowly spill onto Luo Binghe’s head.

With the arrival of Shen Qingqiu, his imposing appearance caused all to stop and stare at him, with the exception of Luo Binghe, whose face was made to ‘eat dirt’ as they say. Even if he was free to look, he wouldn’t want to lock eyes with Shen Qingqiu’s chilly, reticent eyes.

Leave it to these canon fodders to not show any leniency. Shen Qingqiu mentally sighed at how they were splendidly signing themselves up to dying horrible deaths like they were given in the novel.

Even if there was a major change to the plot (the Shen Twins), everything else was following the novel’s progression to a T.

“Please, Shizun, make them stop!” Ning Yingying begged with tears in her eyes. Why do you look like you’re watching your lover standing at gunpoint? He won’t die, he’s the protagonist!

Still, now that he’s here, he has to do something, right?

DING!

You guessed right, it’s time for another plot changing question event! Surely you can guess what the subject matter of this question is going to be? What do you think Shen Qingqiu will do?

More like, what will you have him do? Just to let you know, the System Moderator in charge of overseeing Shen Qingqiu does not know that you are in charge of controlling Shen Qingqiu’s actions.

Yeah, that System Moderator is in a different department than us, so we haven’t let them know. Therefore, you need to be careful about what you choose, or things can get tricky!

Without a further ado… let’s get to the next question!

                           [What will Shen Qingqiu do in this situation?]

Walk away! Let them deal with it on their own!

Save the protagonist!

Be neutral and punish them all!

Tell Yingying to go away and unleash the ‘Shizun TM’

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