#So this really is just me noodling what that initial encounter (or encounters) with the actual bard might've been like C:

[juls-art]

based on me and myre's shared idea/headcanon that The Dream Visitor is wearing a face that is familiar to the protagonist/player character in order to appear more trusting and/or alluring. >:3

In Anotos' case, it would be that of a past lover; a handsome and charming bard.

–  

Kofi | Patreon    

[kittycatasaurus]

Love Flavoured Chocolates (2023 Willy Wonka/Reader)

(Cross posted to my AO3, I'm obsessed with Wonka and wanted to share this purely self indulgent reader insert because there simply isn't enough out there and hey it might encourage me to write some more if other people can also enjoy my writing!)

Word count: 3.2k

Willy had come to the Galéries Gourmet with nothing but his love for chocolate making, a wish to once more see his mother, and a hat full of dreams. One thing he certainly hadn’t accounted for was falling in love. He’d first had the pleasure of meeting you the first time Noodle smuggled him out of Scrubitt’s.

You'd befriended the young girl in passing on the street after she’d bumped into you with her laundry cart while neither of you were paying quite enough attention to where you were going. Though the collision was soft enough to keep you both on your feet, she had knocked the book your face was buried in straight to the ground causing you both to startle. Immediately the pair of you burst into apologies (which had made you laugh, despite the girl’s sincere panic), “You’re alright little missy, that was entirely my fault for not looking ahead of me, I simply can’t put this one down, I’m so close to finishing this new tale of a young detective!” You attempted to ease her worry with a big smile, it seemed to work as the girl’s face shifted from concern to interest. “Is-is that the latest Nancy Drew story?” She asked eagerly, trying to get a better look at the book in your hand. With a simple nod, keeping the easy smile on your face you answered, yes. From there the pair of you spent at least a half hour chattering excitedly about the fantastical feats of the young investigator until a nearby clocktower chimed, making her realise she was falling way behind schedule and would soon have to return to the wash house with a few deliveries still to make their destinations. “It’s been wonderful talking to you miss, but I’m afraid I really must hurry along, I hope I run into you again, my name is Noodle in case you see me before I see you!” The girl, now known to you as Noodle, what an interesting name, jumbled out as she made off to scurry away to wherever she needed to be. “I hope I see you again as well Noodle, you’ve been a delight to talk to! The name is Y/N” You called out after her and continued your stroll once she was out of sight, only somewhat more aware of your surroundings this time.

After that initial encounter you had run into each other a few times, eventually budding a wonderful friendship wherein you shared books and life stories with one another. Gradually you learned of Noodle’s more than unfortunate living situation and provided her comfort and reassurance in any ways you could, be that a book from your collection which she hadn’t yet read or a warm hug and shoulder to cry on, the girl became a younger sister figure to you.

This was where Wonka came into the picture, you and Noodle by this point had been friends for the better part of two years and saw each other frequently so you were understandably concerned when you hadn’t seen her around for the last couple of weeks. Just when the worry was getting to the point of you preparing yourself to storm into Scrubitt’s and demand to know about the wellbeing of your friend you saw her, tucked away from the main roads and pathways, talking to her trolley? Now that is upsetting, such a beautiful young mind lost to the madness of her circumstance. As you were about to approach, rounding the corner of the wall you’d hidden behind, a man emerged from the trolley clearly in conversation with the young girl. If not for your sheer confusion, you would have hastily approached the stranger as instinct kicked in to keep Noodle away from any potential danger. She didn't appear frightened or startled so logic told you this was no stranger to her, and therefore not a threat. Upon the realisation, you called out to your friend whom you’d missed in the two weeks of absence, “Noodle! Where’ve you been, little lady?” Immediately, both heads turned to face you and your breath caught in your throat as the mystery man turned and you finally caught a glimpse of his face. It was a beautiful face too, puppy-like hazel eyes, framed by fluttery long lashes, thick full eyebrows sat above them, complimenting his slender, pale face. Both pairs of eyes were wide upon you but you were still taking in the gorgeous man before you, to the point you failed to hear Noodle as she repeated your name, asking “Y/N? What are you doing here?” At the lack of response, she followed up “Earth to Y/N?” with a somewhat exasperated sigh after. Seeing the man turn to face Noodle shook you from your reverie and you let out a sharp little “Hmm?” “I said, what are you doing here Y/N? Were you following me or something?” Her look caused a twang of guilt for a second until you registered that, no you hadn’t been following Noodle, just actively looking out for her as you’d thought her to be missing. “Of course not you numpty! I heard your voice coming from a sketchy alley and saw you talking to your laundry pile, I only wanted to check you were alright, especially considering I haven’t seen you in a few weeks kid! It’s completely understandable for me to be at least a little worried, even more so after seeing a strange man come out of your trolley,” Your voice was taking on a bit of a scolding tone as you softened it to turn to the aforementioned man “No offence.” He shook his head as though to imply none taken as his eyes flitted between the two of you, the friendly smile never once leaving his face. “I take it this is Y/N, Noodle?” his eyes remained on her this time as she nodded back to him. Well that was unexpected, this mysterious dreamboat knew who you were courtesy of Noodle, and while you were flattered she told this new ‘friend’ about you, you worried over what she said in order for him to deduce your identity.

Together, the pair of them explained their plan to get the money to free themselves of Scrubitt’s unfair debt, going into detail about the wondrous and impossible chocolates made by who you now know to be ‘Willy Wonka, future chocolatier extraordinaire’. In all honesty your mind is positively racing to keep up, but with such bright smiles on their faces you can only nod your support and shoot a smile back, albeit a smaller one.

———————————

That had been a while ago, though it felt even longer. By this point, you had collectively put a stop to the chocolate cartel and Scrubitt and Bleacher. Wonka’s chocolates were doing better than ever and with everyone from the wash house going back to their old lives, Willy was alone again, well mostly. Abacus Crunch had been happy to remain the financial adviser for Willy and the group would do their best to stay in touch thanks to Lottie Bell and her phone operator gig but it was definitely lonely, going from all those people around him, that warm environment to nothing again. Although, you were still around weren’t you? You and Noodle? While you both saw her often, upon finding her mother and the library where she stayed, it was less and less that you found yourself in the young girl’s company, she had years of catching up to do after all. You wanted to believe that was why you were seeing less and less of Willy too, but the pair of you had no reason not to see each other often, after all, you’d quit your boring old job to help out and work with Willy at his shop as soon as it had been acquired. So then why did it feel like he was avoiding you, or attempting to shut you out.

This is where you find yourself as you sit with Noodle outside her mother’s library one warm evening. “I don’t understand Noodle, he seems lonely, it's simply a fact that he thrives off of being around other people so I don’t understand why he’s shutting himself away” a too big sigh leaves your mouth. “I miss him, I miss his cheshire grin, the confusing way he talks, even just seeing his garish purple coat” “Hmmm, kinda sounds like you love him” “Yeah, I just don’t know what’s u- WHAT?!?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN NOODLE?” Your face burns red as your brain takes a minute to register what the young girl chimes in with. In response she holds up her hands, palms facing you, “I’m just saying it as I see it.” With a shrug she shakes her head. Though her words do make you stop and think back to the many months you’ve known the eccentric chocolatier.

The first day you’d successfully sold Wonka’s chocolates on the street had resulted in a quick getaway where you and Willy had ended up lost in the tunnels below the city, escaping the corrupt chief of police for an hour or two as you attempted to meet up with the others to get Willy back to Scrubitt’s with the others in time for roll call. At this point you hadn’t yet been alone together, and the lack of familiarity seemingly made Willy nervous to the point his breathing got panicked and you shared a rather intimate moment where you helped ease his discomfort with a simple breathing exercise and hand massage. “Willy, give me your hand please,” you spoke in the most gentle tone you’d ever mustered after his laboured breaths stabilised, he acquiesced rather quickly as you reached out to him, gently cupping his hand. “I’m gonna trace the lines of your palm okay? It might tickle but I promise you, you’ll feel better.” The smile on your face eased any remaining nerves and once you started to caress his palm with your thumb he seemed to lose the last of the tension. “See,” your voice was still incredibly gentle, but now you were both smiling though his was significantly smaller than usual, “You’re okay, sweetie, I’m here” The pet name left your mouth so naturally neither of you reacted, though a moment later you flushed realising the implied closeness of calling him such a name. With level heads you managed to safely navigate your way back to the others in time and wished Willy a restful night. In retrospect that may very well have been when you first started to develop feelings for the man, you could no longer tell, in the objectively short time that you’d known him, you could think of at least a dozen other times that may have stimulated this apparent crush of yours. Though one particular memory comes to mind more often than the rest. The most recent to boot, the day you reunited Noodle with her mother!

It was the day you’d put an end to the cartel, Willy would finally be free to run his chocolate shop and live out the dream he’d shared with his late mother. The celebration in the Galéries Gourmet seemed to go on forever as everyone enjoyed the chocolate fountain filling up cups seemingly endlessly. A group effort had the shop back together in no time, looking as good as new. As the sun was finally descending from its high perch, your friends from Scrubitt’s all said their goodbyes and well wishes to Willy, Noodle and yourself. Leaving the three of you to lounge about in comfortable silence for a while. “We have a surprise for you, Noodle!” You said excitedly to the young girl who was almost falling asleep where she sat. Exchanging eye contact with Willy, you rose with Noodle in tow. Wide awake after jolting her about, she rushed to keep up with both of your longer legs as you sped away from the shop. Stopping abruptly outside of the library, Noodle gathered her bearings with a confused expression on her face and heavy breaths leaving her lungs, “The library?? What could possibly be so important in there you felt the need to sprint AND drag me along too no less!” She was understandably irritated, but you knew it would be worth all the effort soon enough. “Close your eyes for a second for me Noodle-dee!” Willy told her cheerfully as you approached the door holding onto the girl’s hand to bring her with you. KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK. “Now open them…” You whispered just loud enough for her to hear and comply. Before her, stood her mother, finally reunited after years of wishing and hoping. Immediately the two shared the warmest embrace you’d ever witnessed as you backed up and gave them their space, returning to Wonka’s side and overlooking the tender moment. A soft sniffle from beside you reached your ear and you glanced over to see Willy’s eyes glossy with unshed tears, the poor boy must’ve been reminded of his own mother in that moment, your heart hurt for him. “Come here sweetie,” you hummed to him, pulling the chocolatier into a comforting hug. “She’d be so proud of you right now, you know?” You got a teary chuckle in response to that as his arms wrapped around you. Noodle and her mother looked over to you now and you raised your arm in a wave to let them know you’d be heading back to leave them to catch up on all the time they’d spent apart.

The walk back wasn’t far, but it felt much longer without Noodle especially since you’d run practically the whole way there and were now strolling very leisurely. Neither of you said anything but you were touching in some way the entire time, holding hands for part of the walk, then switching to linking arms, even simply resting your hand on Willy’s back. Eventually you made it back to the shop, with the lights off, it was as though the magic was sleeping. As you entered ahead of Willy, you looked back to examine his expression, he wasn’t upset, of course not, he just reunited his dearest friend with her mother whom she thought long lost, perhaps forlorn was more accurate. The cogs in his head were clearly turning as he wrangled with his feelings, particularly regarding his mother and the seemingly impending loneliness he was soon to face. He stopped walking as soon as he entered, eyes still downcast as though expecting you to turn around and leave right then and there as well. With a low sigh you finally broke the silence “Willy, I’m not leaving you, not after that, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I just walked out after seeing those tears in your eyes.” He looked up, this time they had escaped and he had a sad pout on his beautiful lips. “Can you tell me about her? Have you got any pictures?” You’d not heard much at all about his mother from him aside from how much he loved her and that she was the inspiration for his dream turned reality. Willy gave a little nod and led you through the store to his makeshift office/home/break room, and on the desk sat a framed photo of a beautiful woman with a very familiar smile. “Wow this is her then? She’s beautiful Willy, you look so much like her.” You said the last bit somewhat under your breath as you realised the implication of what you said (as much as you meant it, it seemed a bit forward). You picked up the picture and sat down on the sofa in the room, patting the seat next to you for Willy to sit beside you, the rest of the night was spent listening to stories of his childhood and asking questions. The pair of you laughed, you cried, and eventually Willy fell asleep with his head on your shoulder. Getting as comfortable as the pair of you could, you let yourself join him in the land of dreams shortly after.

Now, it had been a few weeks since you and Willy had experienced the almost intimate exchange of life stories, as well as your chat with Noodle and you had the day off. Willy was on a break from work and went to visit Noodle at the library to tell her all about that night and how great a person he found you to be, gushing over how ‘kind, pretty, sensitive, and funny’ you were but somehow avoiding the ‘L’ word and seemingly ignoring his feelings for you. Eventually, the girl could take it no longer and burst out “Either ask her out, or I will do it for you! You’re such an idiot Willy, it's so obvious you love Y/N and I don’t understand how you’ve danced around it for as long as you have!” Noodle’s frustration was apparent from her face alone, if her words somehow hadn’t conveyed exactly what she meant them to. Willy’s eyes went wide at her outburst and his face started to resemble a tomato almost in how brightly he was blushing. As he opened his mouth to make a retort, Noodle interrupted him with a raised finger and a look that shut him up before he could even make so much as a noise. “Go see her now Willy, or I will.” Was all she had to say to get him standing up and practically sprinting out of the door.

A hurried knock at your door startled you out of your thoughtless stare out the window, you sat up abruptly, I’m not expecting any visitors, you thought to yourself as you walked cautiously over to the door. Through the peephole, you spotted the one and only Willy Wonka, pleasantly surprised, you opened up the door to be pulled into a tight embrace. Despite the initial shock, you quickly recovered to hug your dear friend back, “Heya, what’s gotten into you, sweetpea?” Genuinely confused as to the context despite reciprocating the affectionate action. Pulling back from you to look into your eyes, Willy responded, “I love you, Y/N.” Cue the widening of your eyes as you started to stammer out a reply, “Wh-what, huh, I-” “I love you, Y/N, I can’t believe it took Noodle calling me an idiot to realise it but I’m hopelessly, wholeheartedly in love with you.” He affirmed with a fire behind his gaze. You realised then that he wasn’t joking, this wasn’t a prank or him using the word in a friendly sense. “You, you do?” Tears started to well up in your eyes as you looked into his, “I love you too, Willy Wonka.” Not wanting to keep him in suspense, you confessed right back. A laugh broke free from your mouth as the tears started to fall from your eyes. Gently cupping either side of his face, you brought your lips together in a sweet kiss that felt like it could last forever, his hands finding a comfortable perch on your hips as you held each other close. Breaking apart for air, you both giggled, and leaned back into each other for another kiss, this one escalating a little past wholesome as you softly tugged at his bottom lip with your teeth. Breathing heavily now, you separated once more to stare into each other's eyes. Willy Wonka had confessed his love to you and you were ecstatic to say you felt the same. This would be the start of something beautiful, of that you were sure.

[fantasylandbackflips]

Unbelievable Scenes: Beware of Chicken

I nursed a growing headache, trying to keep my head down and ignore the fight that'd broken out in the noodle shop where I'd stopped for lunch on a whim. I'd put some good distance between myself and the Shrouded Mountain (although, should it be called "Shrouded" anymore?), but even here, it seemed one would still encounter the occasional beef between loose cultivators over some nonsense.

A spoon went flying towards me, and it took all my still-sluggish reflexes to dodge it. Once again, I thanked my lucky stars that I wasn't still suffering from the worst wounds I'd received up on the mountaintop. If I'd still been suffering from… whatever that "Unshrouded Fist" attack was that hit Liao Fang so hard I'd ended up in her body… then that spoon would've dented my skull instead of the wall.

I grimaced, as I thought back to all that. Liao Fang had been starstruck by the Fulmination Squad – that's why she'd joined the Shrouded Mountain Sect to begin with – and so had lined up behind them when many of them supported the Patriarch's faction of the Sect over the rebelling Elders. Bad move. She was in the Fifth Stage of the Initiate's Realm, which was good enough for an Outer Disciple, but not good enough to stand up to anyone serious in the Sect. And now, outside the heat of the moment, even her perspective would grudgingly agree that it was the wrong side to pick.

That's why, as soon as I could at least limp away, I'd left. Written a resignation note couching the decision in Daoist terms (wouldn't you know it, "thunder on the mountain" in the Yijing was the hexagram that recommended excessive humility and returning to low altitudes), stumbled down the Shrouded Path, and found the first cave I could – no longer hidden by mist and illusions – to hide in and recover my wounds.

Thank Heaven for that cave. Thank Heaven for those medical herbs Bi De had been selling; spy or no spy, chicken or no chicken, they'd gotten me back on my feet in record time.

And thank Heaven for the cultivation manual I'd found there, next to the bleached bones of its previous owner. Giving up cultivation would've been a terrible idea in a world where it was the only way to defend yourself from a potentially endless parade of assholes… but if I'd kept my current lightning cultivation, everyone would've known I was a Shrouded Mountain renegade.

And to be honest? Even if it hadn't been a dead giveaway of my entanglement with the Shrouded Mountain... I just didn't like it. The part of me that was Liao Fang had looked up to the Fulmination Squad, but that image had been tarnished forever. And the part of me that was not of this world? It found the lightning qi of the Fulmination Arts too aggressive. Too "strength above all", as the Sect put it so often. Too… yang.

Whatever our dao was now, it wasn't suitable for qi like this.

…at last, those two idiots took their fight out of the noodle shop, and things returned to "normal". I sighed in relief, and began circulating my qi again, tasting the yin fire qi from the kitchen, and the yin metal qi from the commerce. Fire and metal in, fire and lightning out.

This "Sapphire Yin Alembic Method" had been just the thing, really. Its cultivation techniques were eerily reminiscent of Earth chemistry: gravity filtration when your qi is still loose, evaporative distillation when it's thick enough to precipitate into an elixir sea, and ultimately a Golden Core formed by crystallization. And because it was obsessively concerned with knowing what, precisely, was swirling around in your meridian system (or else you'd never nucleate when you finally got to forming your core), it'd hopefully be able to clear out all this domineering lightning qi that I couldn't use anymore.

I slurped up the last of my noodles, paid the shopkeep, and started the walk "home". I was still circulating – learning what qi was endemic to what environment. How it felt, even if it wasn't suitable for my foundation, so that I'd be able to tell good cultivation spots from bad. I lingered in the merchant hall, but eventually made my way to the farm at the outskirts of the town, where I'd been trading my labor for a bedroll and permission to meditate in the field. I greeted Wang Lung – the head of the household – and sat down between the furrows to soak up its earth qi: the "yin earth" of fertile soil, which is not yang wood but gives birth to it regardless. Wood and earth in. Wood and lightning out.

I knew, even with my otherworldly knowledge aiding my comprehension of the Sapphire Yin Alembic, that it'd take months to get the lightning out of my system, and who knows how much longer after that to break through to the Profound Realm. But when I did… I could get out of the Howling Fangs entirely. I could go next door to the Azure Hills – a qi-starved region, and thus, in theory, an ideal environment for evaporative distillation by negative pressure – and cultivate in peace. I'd have nothing to fear from former sectmates stumbling upon me, nor from locals who rarely make it out of the Initiate's Realm, nor from that old monster who'd torn off the Patriarch's face to settle a grudge.

Surely, nothing important happens in the Azure Hills, right?

[antialiasis]

How do you feel about the pokemon designs this generation?

Mixed! There are a lot of designs this generation that I don't think are bad as designs or anything but I just don't find them very appealing personally. But there are also some Pokémon I like a lot.

I tend to like Bug Pokémon at least a little but Spidops and Lokix are both completely unappealing to me, for instance; just don't care for them at all. Meanwhile Tandemaus/Maushold are a very amusing concept but they feel so stylistically out of place. I deeply enjoy that we have rock salt Pokémon with "nacl" in their names, and Nacli is quite cute, but Garganacl, ehh. I felt pretty ehh on a high proportion of the earlygame Pokémon in particular, which probably influenced my initial opinions. A lot of others I feel fine about but I don't really like them either. Like Fidough, which I just could never get myself to like as much as the rest of the internet when it was revealed. (I do like Dachsbun, though.)

Other designs I do like fine but don't feel very interesting as designs. Like, Wattrel and Kilowattrel are nice birbs but it doesn't feel like they have a lot going on that makes them unique, I guess. Veluza is a Pokémon I don't exactly dislike but all I can think of when I look at it is that it's just the most nondescript Pokémon design I've ever seen - it's just a generic fish with magenta fins, end of. (Though Fillet Away, which I only just learned existed on Bulbapedia just now, does make it a bit more interesting and I guess I can forgive it. I caught mine at level 52 and haven't used it yet because my team is only just catching up with that.)

One of the first new Pokémon I encountered that I really actively liked (besides Sprigatito/Floragato) was Espathra; I bumped into a level 35 one in the desert while vastly underleveled for it and gasped out loud. I wasn't sure what to expect from the treasures of ruin after the whole thing about them being cursed objects but turns out I like all of them and really adore Chien-Pao, what a delightful noodle kitty.

I did a casual Favorite Pokémon Picker of just Gen IX and this is what I got, though I didn't think super hard about it:

[the12thnightproject]

My turn, my turn!!

Okay so~ 1, 10 & 31 💜

Hi! And thank you for the ask!

1. What fic of yours would you recommend to someone who had never read any of your work? (In other words, what do you think is the best introduction to your fics?)

Hm, since I write three types of content...

for headcanons, I'd go with "Warlords Opening Up MC's Refrigerator After She's Been Gone Three Months" because it pretty much exemplifies that kind of weird chaos that sometimes pops into my brain.

For short fiction, it would be the story I wrote for your request, A Simple Game, because I really like writing warlords interacting with each other, especially getting to put three smart sneaky warlords like Shingen, Mitsuhide, and Motonari together.

Long fic would have to be Twelve Lies I Told Shingen Takeda - it introduces the multiverse and I loved the idea of Shingen being in a relationship that grew out of friendship, kindness, and mutual respect, rather than out of physical attraction (or if someone just wants to read a smut chapter, there are a couple of those... Buttons being my favorite).

10. How do you decide what to write?

With headcanons, if they aren't an ask, it's usually something that just pops into my head, or is prompted by something that just happened in real life. Like the smoke alarm HC was prompted by being awakened at 3 a.m. by my smoke alarm's dead battery chirp.

All of the short fics on my blog were prompted either by an exchange, or by a chaotic bingo request, so with those, it's mostly noodling around with the prompts until I can think of something that fits the request. I used to do a improv and sketch comedy, so in a sense, it's a similar concept - take the audience's suggestion, and use it to jump off into a scene, but then take the scene to an unexpected twist.

With longfic, usually it starts with something that I can't stop thinking about. The original idea for the Tempest in Time series was just a bunch of scenarios that kept haunting me in the summer of 2020. They weren't leaving my head, so I had to write them down. I knew I wanted to create a multiverse with an OC who would have multiple versions of herself living in different timelines, but would be connected by a frame story involving a mission that needed to be completed across all the timelines, and that my OC would potentially encounter different versions of herself. The initial thought would be that the OC would have a route for every warlord, and I knew that Shingen had to be first, because his canon illness was going to necessitate time travel anyway, so I could take care a lot of the world building and establish the multiverse dilemma naturally (and also his story was the clearest in my mind, and also... well, it's Shingen, he's basically my favorite warlord anyway). And as such, Sasuke would need to be the final story, because it's going to involve a crap ton of time timeline hopping. The order in the middle is random, based on whichever warlord's story I can visualize the clearest. Hideyoshi was supposed to be after Mitsunari's, but what I had planned started feeling too similar to parts of Shingen's, so my next thought was to go to Ieyasu ... but then a certain Kitsune said, "I'm sorry my dear, but I insist you tell my story next," and the plot unrolled in my mind. If I can picture how a story starts, at least three points somewhere in the middle, and how it ends, that's when I know that I can start writing a long fic. Sometimes I have an idea of where somethin starts, but no clue about what happens next, so those just sort of stay marinating in my brain until I can see more of where it wants to go.

And that was a very long answer to a short question... sorry.

31. What’s your ideal fic length to write?

Heh... size doesn't matter. I've got a couple of pieces I love that are less than 500 words each, and one of the longfics clocked in at over 150,000 words (which totally shocked me... I never realized I could write that much).

There's a special challenge in writing the uber-short flash fics, especially if there is a word limit. I can spend more time tweaking a 330 word flash fic than a 3300 word chapter in a longfic.

I like to keep the short fic at less than 5000 words, only because if it starts getting longer than that, then I get tempted to do more world building and add subplots, and all of a sudden it's heading into longfic territory.

What I like about writing longfic is getting to live with a story and the characters for a long period of time. Shingen's story took me 8 months to write, Mitsunari's story took a year... I've hit the 4 month mark on the draft of Mitsuhide's... I like these characters that Cybird originated, and in longfic, I can hang out with them and really get to know them.

[ebiyoru]

22-0824

it’s my third day on my new job.

there is a general assembly for my dept starting from 1pm up until 3pm. it mostly consisted of safety precautions esp now that we have a typhoon in our area, a few speeches from our superiors from the US, an interview session with said superiors, intermission numbers (which turned out bad virtually bc of the sound system issues. it’s probs good irl), etc. there’s a part where they showed a video slideshow of the dept’s pictures taken in a recent event, i guess? im not too sure. then after that, they announced any promotions and recognitions for some of the members of the team, one of which is my previous (and now current) colleague (let’s call him J). oh btw, 4 of my colleagues are present in the office to attend the assembly in person.

it ended in time (with 15 minutes of time to spare) and we’re back to production. actually, in my case, i just had to review the documents given to me, try to understand and review it for an upcoming diagnostic exam (i asked for 30 more minutes to review) which i finished for 10 mins. 

after that, i had 4 hours of free time. i wasn’t used to having this much free time at work so i was getting a little anxious thinking maybe i’m not involving myself enough into the team and initiating for anything to do. but then again, i’m afraid i’ll come off as a pretentious little newbie who mandates what i get to do and getting ahead of things. so i just asked a few things to my manager and she said they’ll explain the details tomorrow. so i just ended up, uhh, watching jjk 

at 8 pm, i had a training for the first task i need to learn. it spanned 2 hours and my colleague who trained me explained it soooooo well. i especially liked the fact that he uses the technique where he encourages me to explain and kinda teach him what i just learned. i noticed it right away and mentally took note of it (in case i am in a similar situation). 

i asked a few questions every time i’m asked if i have any (still keeping myself from being unconsciously pretentious and bida bida) and he answers them really well. i think for the following days, he will be able to teach me the course in a very effective way. 

a few minutes later, we were joined by another one of my colleagues. she was mostly there to facilitate our learning session (and give insights whenever needed). she’s a tenure senior and she looks really nice and encouraging. so far, the people i’ve encountered in this team has been really warm and welcoming.

there’s this one question i pointed out that i didn’t realize would be a potential submission for process improvement. all i did was point out a thing i’m curious about, and my colleagues told me to suggest it to the PI team for a possible case to look into. i guess being pabibo can be beneficial sometimes.

in the end, they announced that i got a perfect score in the diagnostic exam i took. in my defense, the exam has like 10 items so it wasn’t particularly challenging. i guess i can’t say the same with the following exams ;u;

warm feelings filled me even after clocking out. so far, everything has been really interesting and nice.

i was still in time to join my sister and brother in dinner where i wolfed down a bowl full of noodles (which i was craving for the whole afternoon ;u;) nuggets and hungarian sausage while watching rupaul’s drag race. 

i felt very warm (physically) and kinda felt dizzy bc of the cold weather i guess so i went to sleep earlier than usual and didn’t turn on my fan. 

[brrahbrrahcharacterimagines]

Groceries (Might Guy x Reader)

MASTERLIST

Pairing: Might Guy x Reader

Word Count: 2723

Warnings: very minor angst, food mentions (TW for EDs)

A/N: Hope you enjoy! I've been so thirsty for Naruto characters recently it's not even funny

Also, this was originally two parts but I've combined them into one so let me know if the transition doesn't work!

Growing up in Konoha you always felt safe. You knew there were experienced shinobi there to protect you. As a little girl, you would see them walk down the streets and watch in awe as they passed by you.

Despite everything you had seen in terms of violence, you still felt safe in the Leaf Village. There had been some tense battles, but the leaf shinobi always prevailed.

It was a day more peaceful than most as you made your way down to the store. You only needed a few things, but with the nice weather you decided to take advantage of the day instead of waiting for the grocery list to get longer.

Smiling, you walked into the store to the tune of children laughing and birds chirping. It was like you were in a movie.

You made your way down the aisles, picking up the items you needed as you went. Milk, eggs, noodles, and more went into the small cart in your hands as you browsed. Lost in your own world, you didn't see the other cart as it came around the corner at the same time as your own.

The carts crashed into each other, you and the other person with them. It almost winded you, both from surprise and the force of falling into the cart.

"I am so sorry!" You explained, looking up to the man you found in front of you. Luckily, neither of your groceries seemed to have sustained much damage. You found yourself surprised to be met with the most gorgeous dark eyes you had ever seen.

"It's no problem!" Said the man, flashing you a confident smile with a thumbs up. "No damage done."

You felt a hot flush rise to your face, but thankfully the man didn't seem to notice.

"Thank you," you said in a fluster. You weren't sure what you were even thanking him for, not yelling at you? It was then that you took notice of his outfit, especially the band around his waist. "Are you a shinobi?"

The smile stayed ever-present on his face.

"Yes I am! A jonin of the Hidden Leaf Village!"

If you had just half the enthusiasm of this man, you think you would be running on empty in less than five minutes. Hearing he was a jonin, you were impressed.

"Well, thank you for all that you do," you offered, moving to continue your shopping.

Although your interaction was brief, you couldn't stop thinking about it as days passed. Something about his eyes, and his confidence, drew you into him. You tried to brush it off, seeing as it was such a simple interaction, but it was impossible. Even trying to tell yourself that he didn't remember you wouldn't work; there was still a part of your brain that would never quiet down.

You had never minded being a civilian in Konoha. Sure, when you were younger you had thought about being a konoichi, but those were just the thoughts of a child. You never pursued it. You were happy with your career, teaching young children in subjects other than jutsu.

Despite your happiness, you began to wish that you had gone to the academy. Then you would have been able to find the man who was plaguing your thoughts. Even after that, you might have been a real option for him. You knew shinobi tended to mostly be interested in other shinobi.

You didn't know why it upset you so much. You didn't even know the man's name, and yet you were sad that you might not be his type. Feeling a bit pathetic, you found yourself in need of another grocery run. Trying to ignore the thought that you might see him again, you made your way to the store.

Sadly, at least for that persistent, gremlin part of your brain, the trip was rather uneventful. At least, until you found yourself in front of the produce.

You were trying to eat healthier, but it was hard. It wasn't that you didn't like your body, you just wanted to feel better in your own skin. As you stood there pondering, a male voice scared you from your thoughts.

"Excuse me."

You turned, disappointed to see a man with silver spikes instead of the dark bowl cut you had hoped for. You mumbled a sorry, stepping out of his way.

"Careful Kakashi," boomed another voice, "I'd keep your distance from that woman's cart if I were you."

Now that is the voice you had been hoping for.

As you turned, the tall man immediately caught your eye. You blushed at his words, remembering your initial encounter. The other man, Kakashi, looked at you with confusion. He grabbed what he needed before walking away, leaving you and the other man alone.

"So what brings you back here?" He asked. Normally you would have thought of this as awkward conversation, but your heart leapt at the opportunity to talk to him again.

You sighed, "I'm trying to decide what I want. I wanted something healthy but I didn't want to just start grabbing vegetables."

"Then you're in luck," he grinned, "I'm somewhat of an expert. Try some blueberries, they're a superfood." He grabbed a package, placing them in his own cart. "They're on me today."

You tried to protest, but he wasn't having any of it. You made your way through checkout, paying the rest of your items before meeting back up with the man.

"Thank you," you told him, looking back up at his deep eyes. Pausing for a moment, you realized something. "I don't even know your name! How could I thank you for buying these before me without even learning your name?"

The man chuckled, extending his hand out to you.

"The name's Guy," he said loudly, shaking your hand. "Would it be crazy to ask for your name in return?"

You blushed as you grabbed his hand, his grip firm yet his hands soft.

"Y/n," you told him. He smiled.

"That's a beautiful name." His words did nothing to help calm the blush on your face. You were sure he knew exactly what he was doing to you based on the color of your cheeks alone. Suddenly Guy grew rather sheepish. "I know how this is going to sound, but would you want to come by my place sometime?"

Your eyes widened. After all this time wondering what this man was really like, he was just the type to invite you into bed with him immediately? Admittedly part of you was curious, but you weren't stupid.

"Excuse me?"

Now it was his turn to blush.

"Well I know how that sounds," Guy said quickly, trying to get his words out faster than he could think. "But I just meant to make you dinner. I could show you how to cook some vegetables so that they aren't all that bad."

Immediately you felt bad for assuming the worst, offering him a small smile.

"I would like that."

He smiled back at you. Guy gave you his address as the two of you decided on a time before parting ways. You couldn't help the giddy grin that covered your face as you walked home. Your date couldn't come fast enough.

---

In the days leading up to your date with Guy, it was all you could think about. You told yourself that was fine, since you were obsessing over him already. At least now you had a reason to.

The day was finally here, and as the hours ticked away you found yourself growing more nervous. Deciding what to wear was a challenge in itself. Did you want to try to dress up nicer, or would that be too much? Yet at the same time you worried dressing too casual would give him the idea that you weren't as interested as you were.

You tried on just about everything you owned, settling for a dress that made you feel pretty. It was fancy enough to make you feel like you were trying, but still casual enough that you would be comfortable.

You looked at the clock, seeing that you still had ample time before you needed to leave. Sitting down, your mind wandered. What would tonight be like?

in your mind you ran through a myriad of scenarios. If you didn't like the food he cooked, you would have to just stomach it and hope for the best. Based on what he told you at the store though, it seemed like he would know what he was doing. Still, you worried that something would go wrong.

Above all, there was a bigger question ringing out in your mind. Would he try to kiss you? And, would you want him to?

The seconds turned to minutes as you pondered, the minutes turning into hours until it was time to go. You collected your things, making sure to grab any and all essentials before you left. You had already told your friends who you would be with, going as far as to give them the address should anything go wrong. Guy seemed like such a nice guy, but you could never be too careful.

Locking the door to your apartment behind you, you set off. It was early in the evening, and the sun was just beginning to set in the sky. You were thankful you wouldn't have to walk in the dark. You knew there were plenty of shinobi around, hell, you were even meeting one right now. But even then you felt uncomfortable walking home alone at night, surrounded by darkness.

It was a shorter walk than you anticipated, and before you knew it you were at his place. Taking a deep breath, you reached up to knock on his door. It seemed like a nice enough part of town, and his place itself was well-kept especially considering how much time you were sure he spent on training.

You heard Guy's loud steps make their way to the doorway, pausing on the other side before the door swung open. His usual confident smile was on his face, but instead of moving his mouth into words he just looked at you. You felt yourself growing red under his gaze.

"Hello Guy," you said softly, looking up at him.

-

Guy had been making the same amount of preparations as you, if not even more. He planned the meal out carefully, even practicing it the night before to make sure it went well. He had spent more time than usual perfecting his hair, making sure not a single strand would be out of place. He had even thought of exactly what he wanted to say when he opened the door.

Hello Y/n, he would say as he smiled at you. You look more beautiful every time I see you.

Sure, it was more forward than he had been with you before. This was a date after all, and he wanted to make how he felt about you clear from the start.

That plan went right out the window when he saw you, your sundress captivating him. It looked so cute on you, and at the same time there was something about it that sent a wave of tingles between his legs. To put it simply, he was speechless.

He knew he should say something but he couldn't, enraptured by the way you looked in his doorway.

"Hello Guy," you said to him. That sweet voice of yours would drive him crazy someday, and he knew that. He loved hearing his name fall from your lips, hoping it would be far from the last time. Everything about you made him fall for you more.

Despite his thoughts about your voice, your words were enough to stir him to action himself.

"Hey," he said.

Really Guy? He thought to himself. You're the Blue Beast, a strong shinobi. And yet all you can say to a woman is 'hey'?

You giggled at him, and he felt a smile creep onto his face.

"It's good to see you again," he continued. He decided to dial back the forwardness, realizing he had already kept you waiting outside for too long in his daze. "Come on in."

-

You followed Guy into his home, taking in the delicious aroma filling the rooms.

"I don't know what you're making," you stated, "but it smells amazing."

Guy beamed with pride, ushering you over to the kitchen.

"It's my favorite." He told you. "A spicy, vegetable curry."

Thankfully, you didn't mind spicy. In fact, you enjoyed it. Your mouth watered, taking in the sight and smell of the food in front of you.

"Actually, it should be just about done." Said Guy, stirring it all for a final time before putting it onto beautiful dishes to serve.

He had already set the table, candles and all. He pulled the chair out for you, pushing you back in as if you weighed nothing. He sat across from you, and the way he smiled at you made you weak in the knees. It's a good thing you had already sat down.

You wasted no time, digging in. And it was delicious.

"Oh my god Guy," you said in near disbelief at how good it was. You could see his expression perk up. "This is amazing!"

"I'm glad you like it," he chuckles, eating his own.

The rest of the meal went off without a hitch. You talked about your job and his, bonding over your love for your respective students.

"Maybe sometime I can come watch one of your training sessions," you mentioned. "I would love to see you teach them."

Guy smiled, "I would love that." The sincerity in his tone took you by surprise. While you knew he was never joking with you, there was always some sort of bravado to his speech that now was missing.

You helped him clean up despite his protests. You told him that if he cooked, you would at least clean up. It was only fair, after all. You scrubbed the dishes, oblivious to the way Guy was looking at you.

He never would have admitted it to anyone but himself, but he was falling in love with you. He had no problem picturing a life with you. Coming up to you at the end of the day, sharing a meal together. He wanted everything that life would bring him.

"Well," you said, finishing up, "I should probably get going."

"Let me walk you," insisted Guy. "A lady such as yourself should never walk alone at night."

He offered his arm to you, and you accepted it with a shy smile. You could feel his prominent muscles under the fabric of his outfit, and you could feel your face growing warmer. You were thankful for the darkness for obscuring your face from him, hoping he couldn't tell.

He could tell.

As the two of you made your way back towards your own apartment he would flex his muscles every so often, loving the way your face would flush. A couple of times he timed it right so that you were speaking, making you stutter.

The walk ended much earlier than either of you would have liked it to. Suddenly your heart started racing. You could answer your questions from earlier clearly.

Would he try to kiss you?

You sure hoped so.

Would you want him to?

Definitely.

You paused in your doorway, letting go of Guy's arm. You looked up at him, flashing him a genuine smile.

"I had fun tonight."

He reciprocated your own expression with a smile of his own, "me too."

You both paused for what seemed like the longest second in the world. It was as if he was building up the courage to actually go through with what he wanted to. He cleared his throat.

"Y/n, may I kiss you?"

You nodded your head and he lowered his lips to yours slowly. As you pressed your own lips to his you couldn't help the gasp that escaped them.

That's a sound I'll keep replaying... thought Guy.

He pulled away sooner than you would have liked, but he was a gentleman.

"I'll see you soon." Guy ended his sentence with a wink, sauntering off as you went to go inside.

"I can't wait."

[mariusroyale]

You better give us some headcanons on the crew /j

Unless-

uh hah ha-

LESSS GOOOO

Kwazii:

- what’s the bet he watches and rewatches pirates of the Caribbean

- he’s littered with scars! battle scars he calls em and it stresses out peso bc he doesn’t WANT MORE SCARS ON HIM

- i hc him as bi! he just radiates bi energy to me-

- he blinks slow around peso :>>

- has used his claws to pick locks before!

- kwaso bc duh- he loves rubbing his face against pesos like he can’t help it he jus HAS to bc he loves him sm

- this is sort of canon already but he can’t go a minute without jumping or doing front flips anywhere like he GAHTTA MOVE

- when he’s thoroughly spooked he’ll jump extra high and cling onto the ceiling like in those cartoons akdjdkdh

Peso:

- often studies when he’s not busy!! gotta know more abt how to help sea creatures he hasn’t encountered yet after all

- sings/chirps when he’s v v happy

- FLAPS when he’s happy too hahdkfjd

- i think he’d like watching medical dramas! probably me projecting but i like them

- WHAT IF HES INTO KDRAMAS (ive only gotten into one but that hc is cute ahehsj)

- loves listening to kwazii’s stories!! (this is already canon basically (cough cough, that snail ep in season 5))

- I’d like to think he preens sometimes! just sorta fixing up his feathers and some (kwazii) of the crew are like ‘why are u stabbing urself’

- is a super fast swimmer! this is already confirmed p much but like HELLA FAST

Barnacles:

- enjoys listening to classical music

- also SOME HARD ROCK IF HES FEELING IT

- is BEEG LIKE 🅱️EEG 🅱️EEFY 🅱️OLAR 🅱️EAR

- could sometimes act like captain holt in my version of the crew!

- and by that i mean he sees kwazii as a son and would die for him (not if i die for u first captain!)

- when really really tired (as in u can’t save him with coffee) he’ll just blabber abt how much he treasures the crew and how much he’ll do for them

- sometimes he doesn’t get enough sleep! (like tweak-) and peso as his doctor has to keep him in check cos like yeah captain ur strong as shit but ur still old!!!

- his teefs are super fuckin S H A R P like sometimes when he needs a knife or maybe scissors he’ll just *SLICE*

- he’s obviously a huge softie but man this guy is SUCH a cutie patootie id imagine if he was in a relationship he’d be nonstop affection and all that

- speaking OF affection, he’ll pull kwazii into these big ass BEAR HUGS bc augwh he loves this cat so much “my SO N” “CAP LOOSEN IT A LITTLE IM A BIT SQUISHED-“

- bad at cooking but delights in watching cooking shows from time to time

- probably watches bob ross

- ohhhhh my god he could totally be an artist n stuff

Shellington:

- this one’s so stupid but, tweak and kwazii keep giggling whenever they make him say ‘LAWRENCE CHANEY’ KAHAKAHDS

- I’d like to think he tries to learn new languages too!

- falls asleep at his desk sometimes and one of the crew either carries him to bed or puts a blanket over him

- tries his hand at cooking with his children the vegimals! does not work out well he’s a disaster

- enjoys watching stuff on YouTube! u decide what youtubers he watches

- could hc him as ace!

- does that thing and eats ice

- he’s a lanky guy but almost reaches the captains height in my version

Dashi:

- sometimes when she’s really really frustrated she’ll just accidentally bark and she’ll just be like “😳 my bad-“

- when she’s particularly delirious (exhaustion, probably) she’ll chase her tail

- when she gets really excited her tail will wag really really fast

- adjdk sometimes when she’s super hungry she’ll skip chewing food and just I N H A L E (re: does not bode well when it’s noodles)

- sometimes she’ll just sleep in weird ass positions, neck tilted n all that

- loves dressing up tweak sometimes when she’s comfy with it (gives her her own stylish tomboy fits and stuff)

- LOOOOVES the barbie movies god she grew up on them and sometimes she’ll just watch fashion fairytale or princess charm school

- forces koshi to watch them too (she also loves them)

- visibly winces when kwazii tries mimicking her Aussie (tho it sounds p kiwi to me) accent

- probably watches drag race

Tweak:

- watches game grumps ajdjd

- sometimes gets too loud in her room when playing games cos she’ll get mad n shit

- “GODDDDAAMMIT I WAS SO CLOSE TO COMPLETING IT”

“TWEAK PLEASE ITS 2 AM GO TO SLEEP”

- sometimes she’ll just. eat leaves (even when they’re just on land in the wild if she knows it’s safe she’ll just. *nom*)

- goes NUTS whenever she makes blueprints that are like, detachable parts of a gup that are also modes of transport like she loves that the gup k and gup q

- like making it she’s like “HOHOHOJOUO WE GETTIN FUNKY WITH IT TONIGHT BOIZ” and it’s midnight and ‘bois’ is herself

- wants to redesign the gup f! ofc it was dodgy and is now a teeny artificial reef but she wants to make a new one that looks like the design she wanted initially !! (clownfish im p sure at least)

- her and kwazii get up to stupid shit in my version, assuming it doesn’t harm her gups or other creations

- when she’s pissed off/frustrated, she’ll tap her foot really quick repeatedly

- and while her ears twirl around each other when she’s scared, her nose also twitches!

[toraashi]

[ red string of fate ]

akaashi keiji x gn!reader

[ warnings/genre ]

fluff, brief mentions of alcohol, language

[ word count ]

1,665 words

Akaashi found himself zoning out far too much lately. During work, during time with friends, over dinner, and now on his second date this week. Stirring his food around with his chopsticks, he spun his noodles, lifting them to his mouth, and making eye contact with his date across the table as he did so. Through the haze of his thick lashes, he watched as they prattled on about some mindless work topic, their free hand waving aimlessly while the other wrapped around a glass of wine. 

He desperately tried not to, but once again, his mind trailed off, sapphire hues flicking to the dainty red knot tied around his pointer finger, following the thread as it trailed in front of him before vanishing in the distance. Akaashi, like many others, had all but given up on this fantasy. Finding your soulmate. The one for you. It was an exciting concept as a teenager, knowing that there was one person in the world that the universe assigned as yours, someone unique and entirely catered to you and your soul. Alas, as time drew on, reality set in. True, the concept was exciting, but there were several billion existing on this Earth, and many times people's strings would lead them to a cemetery. People often never found their soulmates regardless, and Akaashi had heard of people avoiding them. It was a confusing system, all but a naive dream, and most learned to maneuver through life disregarding it. After years of high school revelation and the words of others insisting he just ignore it, he'd finally began branching out, hoping to find peace with another.

Wasn't it disheartening to commit to someone knowing that there'd always be someone better out there, though? He bit his inner cheek in thought, pushing his glasses up his face as the person seated before him sighed.

“Akaashi-san, are you even listening?” Chin raising, he glanced at them, lips curling into an apologetic smile. They cupped their cheek with their hand, eyes reprimanding and bitter. "Your head's always in the clouds, Akaashi-san. It's infuriating." He fought the urge to roll his eyes. Level-headedness was a trait he took pride in; clearly, this person wasn't observing him like he was them. 

"I was listening. It's been a long day at work. I'm sorry I seem distracted." Repressing the distaste in his tone, he searched their eyes for relent, waiting for them to continue their rant. The person across the table groaned loudly, sliding a hand through their hair before moseying it across the table, knuckles brushing up against his. Akaashi's entire body grew stiff at the contact, discomfort swelling his being as they followed the path up his arm to his face, eyes tender and reluctant.

"Akaashi-san, I really like you," Was this supposed to feel so wrong? He'd been on a few dates with this person, and maybe they'd been more invested than he noticed, but every dinner felt empty and meaningless to him. Gemstone eyes fluttering closed, he let an exhalation drop from his pursed lips, fingers withdrawing. 

"I don't feel the same. Perhaps we shouldn't reschedule this date." Akaashi cushioned his words with deliberate sympathy, features softening while their's hardened. Guilt stung like a dagger in the back, and in an instant, he was attempting damage control. "I'm sorry-" 

"Shut the fuck up. You've been leading me on this whole time." Flinching at their biting words, he averted his gaze to his food, eyebrows furrowing with annoyance. 

"We're just not compatible." A huff sounded above him paired with a jingle of keys. He made no argument as they slid from the ornate chair, fingers digging into their waist as they examined him with hostility.

"I hope you find what you're looking for, but don't bother contacting me again." Grimacing, the boy didn't look as his former date stormed from the restaurant, leaving him with both the bill and an empty seat. Dating was much too complicated, he decided. Was it really worth the heartache for something he wasn't particularly invested in? Running a straggled hand through the inky waves on his scalp, he reached for his phone and unlocked it. 

11:30pm. 

He worked early the following day. Perhaps his date walking out on him was for the best. 

The scarlet thread tied neatly around his finger seemed to glow beneath the flaxen lights of the Italian rooftop restaurant, and he sighed for the millionth time that night, flagging the waiter down for the check.

Soulmates. 

Maybe Akaashi was indeed just a romantic at heart, a raging eclectic who refused to settle for anything below the best. He'd always viewed himself as level-headed, but after countless dates initiated by bored co-workers, he never felt the pull he longed for in a partner. 

A pull. 

Akaashi raised his hand peculiarly, noticing as the thread grew taut, tugging in a specific direction. A skipped heartbeat and his eyes followed the string over the ledge of the second floor, through the myriad of cars parked impatiently at the stoplight and to a figure across the way. They held their hand up suspiciously, staring at a glittering amber knot. 

Akaashi rose abruptly, nearly knocking his table over before quickly rifling through the cash in his wallet, splaying a debatable amount on the white tablecloth before grabbing his coat and pacing briskly through the restaurant. The stairs felt eons-long, his feet slapping against the metal, glasses fogging with the intensity of his breaths, but he could hardly care. Every moment in his life led up to this one. Pushing through the line of people, he exited the building, the cool night air biting his cheeks and painting them a rosy red. The tug of his hand directed him, almost as desperate as he to meet this mystery person. From this distance, he could tell they were bundled in a thick shadow-colored jacket in an attempt to fight the cold and the color of their shoe as they stepped into a taxi- 

"Wait!" He shouted over the traffic, jogging in between cars, spouting apologies left and right between incessant honks, the drivers swerving to avoid his form. "Wait! Sorry, one second." His fumbling through lanes of cars seemed to catch the person's attention, and they instantly perked up, features flooded with panic and concern. They leaned to the cab driver as his foot met the pavement once more, holding a lone finger, a plea on their lips. Goosebumps littered his skin as he turned to them, shivering in his navy turtleneck. Now that he was here, he was unsure of what to say. He'd been so eager to stop them, he hadn't thought of the consequences of his impulsive choice. What if they didn't want to meet him? What if they were dating already? A flurry of questions and insecurities pelted his mind in milliseconds; he barely caught the playful quirk of their lips tainted by a breath of exhaustion. 

"Can I help you? My cab can't wait all night." Refocusing, he peered into the dripping hues of their eyes, watching as the color glimmered beneath nearby shop lights. Their hair was dusted with snowflakes that he longed to brush away. He felt a pull towards them, something he'd been missing in dates for his entire life. "Hello? Stranger?"

"Sorry," He chuckled, embarrassment leaking from his words. "I saw you from the restaurant roof across the street, and I think you're my soulmate." God, that was so embarrassing to say, and he wrapped his arms around himself in consequence, hiding from both the cold and their reaction. They stared at him with the widest eyes he'd ever encountered, cheeks tickling with a blush before they held up their hand, palm facing towards his shivering form. 

"Can you see my string?" His heart nearly thumped from his chest as he revealed his own, nodding slowly and bringing it towards theirs. An inch filled with longing and tension separated the pair's fingertips, and his breath hitched when they pressed their palm to his, smiling tenderly. "Is this okay? I can't explain it, but I feel a pull to you already? Is that weird?" A laugh rumbled in his throat, and he was shaking his head vigorously.

"No. I feel the same." Relief billowed from their lungs, and their fingers collapsed in the spaces of his. 

"Aren't you cold?" They whispered, peeking up at him through thick lashes, a reserved timidness radiating from their form. He hummed, lifting their hands once more, pressing a feather-light, almost polite kiss to the back. 

"I'm not." And he wasn't. In their presence, he felt warm despite it all. A few shy glances later and the cab driver interrupted the moment.

"Oi! Am I taking you or not?" Disappointment fluttered through their features at the abrasive words of the chauffeur, and they removed their hand from his. Lips parting to break the news, he moved first, spluttering words without consent from his brain. 

"I can take you home. If you're comfortable, of course." Sunshine shot through them like lightning at his suggestion, and they pulled on the sleeves of their jacket, grinning giddily. 

"Are you sure? You barely know me." He'd never been more sure of anything in his life, but he went light on the dramatics, eager to please and impress.

"Like I said, if you're comfortable." Casting him a sparkling smile, they nodded eagerly, turning to the driver and sending him away. 

"All right, Stranger, lead the way." They chortled, skipping to his side. Akaashi returned the enthusiasm, offering his hand. Taking it with pleasure, his soulmate hummed, allowing him to lead the way. Guiding them through throngs of people towards his car, he glanced back tenderly. 

“My name’s Akaashi Keiji.” The dreamy look that swam through their eyes had him swooning. 

"That's a lovely name." They cooed, squeezing his hand before speaking their own.

Akaashi could get used to this. 

[purble-turble]

How are you so good at coming up with aus? Now I'm wondering how this different King Red deals with the show events? If Red and his mother don't talk much how does she know his type? Would Guanyin and the rest of heaven pop up more in this au? What is keeping MK from returning? This is a whole other can of worms.

Thanks!! I’m not really good at coming up with original ideas, but I do very much enjoy building off other peoples’ ideas and prompts. That’s why these asks are so much fun for me. It’s hard for me to think of a good, interesting story all on my own but when someone sends me a plot point or even a little kernel of an idea, I find that’s where I can really have fun!

As for this alternate King Red... Well he’s an entirely different character from the demon king I’ve been writing about in all these other asks, so he probably needs a new name.. Let’s call this version Prince Red since DBK is still alive in this iteration. He’s still a ruler and in charge of a court, but his father never died so he retained the title of King still.. I’ll go back and add the Prince Red tag to that other related ask too.

Seems like from that other ask that this version of Red is a much nicer person.. looks like Guanyin’s teachings actually stuck. Not enough to not rule over a court of demons, but at least enough that he doesn’t want to dominate the earth with his parents. I also don’t know about him keeping MK and not letting him return, that doesn’t seem to go along with the kind of person who would resist unleashing darkness upon the world.. So yeah. The pilot would definitely be very different since Red Son is not helping his parents...

So as I outlined in the previous ask, MK knocks the staff out accidentally during an encounter with PIF, and gets captured because he’s pretty sure he doesn’t deserve to wield the staff since it’s HIS fault it was removed. This all happens without Prince Red being aware so when his father shows up suddenly after 500 years he’s pretty shocked... plus his mother comes tailing behind him and offers Red this dejected looking MK as a peace offering to get him to help his father with his plan to take over the world.. and they’ve been apart for quite awhile, so she doesn’t really know his type per se, but she does know her goody two-shoes son would never refuse to take in a terrified looking boy, and if he happens to be really cute well that’s just a bonus. Well, it works, and Red definitely doesn’t want his mother to have her hooks in this scared looking young man so he just smiles and nods at her and then takes MK off her hands.

Actually Red wants nothing to do with his parents anymore, and he fully intends to return MK back to wherever it is he came from as soon as it’s safe and then tell his parents to take a hike, but when he gets a moment in private to speak to MK about that plan, he learns that HE is the one who removed the staff. By accident, he swears! And he feels just awful about it and he doesn’t know what to do, all his friends are in danger and PIGSY IS GONNA BE SO MAD HE DIDN’T FINISH THE LAST OF HIS NOODLE DELIVERIES!! Honestly MK is so anxious and adorable, it just breaks Red’s heart to see how distraught he is at all of this. He falls a little bit in love with him right then and there~

That isn’t what makes him want to keep MK, though. That comes later. Once Red learns that this boy is able to wield Monkey King’s staff that changes things. He asks where the staff is and it turns out it was left back where he dropped it after initially pulling it out.. Red thinks it’s extremely unfair that this young man should have to deal with his parents just because of a stroke of luck that he was able to move the staff, and he knows there’s a better solution to this problem. So he gives MK his hoverboard and tells him to head to Flower Fruit Mountain.. it’s not too far, and that’s where Monkey King lives. He tells MK he should let Monkey King know what happened so HE can deal with it. Meanwhile he will keep his parents busy so Monkey King has a chance to go retrieve the staff.

MK looks super relieved when Red tells him this plan. He says he definitely doesn’t want to be responsible for saving the world, so this is totally fine by him! So he goes to Flower Fruit Mountain, which honestly is super close since they’re already in the Firey Mountains, and it’s pretty much like it is in the show where he finds out that Monkey King was actually following him this whole time and he INTENDED for MK to take the staff. He tells MK to fetch the staff for himself and use it to defeat the demon bull family. Which he does.. after finding all his friends and getting their help and believing in himself....

I think when Red witnesses MK fighting against his parents he actually gets kind of mad. Not specifically at MK, just at the situation. When he showed up at Red’s palace, MK had been so frightened and he can’t get that image out of his head. He can tell this whole thing is terrifying for him and MK is just putting on a brave face and pretending to be confident.. so after the battle he approaches MK and lets him know he doesn’t have to do this super hero role that’s been forced on him.. He could come back to Red’s palace if he wanted. He’d be safe there and he wouldn’t have to worry about fighting demons anymore.....

...and listen, MK is tempted. This handsome fire demon was really nice to him and all, but Monkey King is still his personal hero, so he feels kind of a responsibility at being named his successor now. So he politely declines.

And so we arrive at a scenario where Prince Red, ruler of a demon court in the Firey Mountains, starts spending a considerable amount of time trying to convicnce MK to stop being the Monkey Kid and come live with him in his palace but not because he’s obsessed but because he’s worried! This poor, adorable boy is in danger with all these demons running around and why doesn’t the Monkey King just handle it??? ...MK spends a lot of time the rest of the series dodging Prince Red’s advances and attempts to whisk him away to his palace. It’s not scary or malicious in the way it is in the Demon King Red version, though. In fact MK is kind of flattered in some ways... and also Prince Red is pretty cute so he’s developing a crush of his own, even though he keeps rejecting him.

[lune-hime]

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Tea Time # 2 ~ Shower Mishap

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?”

“Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

So these little Tea Times were written as little filler-memory chapters to place in between the main story line.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N.” Hange drawled. She clumsily attempted to sit cross legged along the dining hall bench, her legs not quite folding correctly. When she almost tipped over the side, Erwin used his quick reflexes to snag her by the arm and place her upright. You sloppily turned your head to give her as much undivided attention that your remaining active brain cells could muster.

“Please enlighten everyone on the shower story.” Her request brought a giddy smile to her lips. Levi immediately cast you a quizzical look, his gaze drowning in beer. Your face heated up like an oiled saucepan but thanks to the excessive drinking it made no difference to your already rosy complexion.

“But it might be too unprofessional for the Commander.” You shot a sassy look at Hange over Levi who was seated between the two of you. Alcohol was quite the bold word choice inducer as you definitely would not have phrased your sentence with so much gusto if you were sober.

“What in the fucking hell  kind of story is this?” Levi asked darkly, his pupils dilated so far they eclipsed their usual silver. There was a preciseness to his phrase despite it being slurred. Indeed, the only soul at the table who knew of your unintentional shower adventure was your former squad leader. Erwin chuckled softly and Mike quirked an eyebrow at you.

“We drink as friends tonight, Y/N. No one will get you in trouble for just telling a story-” Erwin began his explanation calmly but paused when he locked eyes with Levi’s burning glare. It took what was left of his composure to refrain himself from laughing at the tiny fireball across the table.

“But only tell it if you are comfortable doing so.” The commander flashed a dazzling smile before taking a hearty swig of his drink. The man may have been inebriated but he was still so much more put together than the rest of you. Well, with the exception of Mike of course.

“It’s not that bad, don’t worry about it Vivi.” You reassured the steaming man between giggles. You reached up to gingerly pat his cheek a couple times, his glare turning into an intensely childish pout that he would definitely deny later.

“So you’ll tell it?” Hange chittered, practically vibrating with excitement. You nodded lazily, swaying a bit but steadied by Levi’s secure arm around your waist.

“Okay so, it was during my first few months as a cadet-”

↞♞♘↠

You had come to terms with the fact that you were going to be tired on a daily basis. Since you had joined the cadets it was nonstop physical and tactical training that bored into the innermost parts of your brain and body, immersing you in a constant state of exhaustion. Your grandmother’s war stories about her painful life in the military were indeed accurate (well, yours were much less scandalous than hers); it’s no joke how far the organization pushes every limb, muscle, fiber, and atom within your being.

Which was why you couldn’t be happier that you had an hour of free time to shower after your training session before you had to meet your mentor. Plush towel hanging off your shoulder, you rounded the corner of one of the many hallways of the vast compound and practically skipped into the bathing area.

The steam from the showers was thick at first and obscured the space as you passed through the initial chamber to enter the main bathing area. The only element of the atmosphere that told you other cadets were occupying the room was their loud banter and laughter. Only, it wasn’t the feminine voices you were accustomed to hearing and you’re pretty sure you just heard Connie’s na-

“Y/N!?!?!” A voice shrieked, immediately scuttling to the side upon discovering your arrival. When your vision adjusted to the thick steam, your eyes widened in shock when you spotted Eren's very exposed form through the haze.

"Ohmygodohmygod, Eren I'm so sor-" You blabbed, immediately trying to look anywhere but the boy's nether regions. Before the split second it would have taken to cover your eyes, you were startled by an immense figure in your personal space. The shadow gave you zero time to shield yourself from the Michaelangelo’s David that was possibly the cockiest cadet on the premises.  

"Y/N, I didn't know you were so bold. Come to play?" Reiner cooed, smirk widening as he watched your face heat up to the scalding temperature of their showers. He made no effort to hide his manhood, as Eren did, and actually attempted to emphasize it by propping his leg up against one of the benches littered throughout the bath. You were frozen in embarrassment and as much as you wanted to punch him right in the spot he most yearned for you to gaze upon, you couldn't do it.

"Walls, Reiner do you have any shame?" You spat back, your muscles still seized up with your beyond awkward encounter.

"None if it comes to you, sweetheart." He chuckled confidently. Before you could quip back another response, a blur shouting your name dashed towards you and turned your vision black. The hands over your eyes became your sole protector from the copious amounts of naked men.

“I know you are dumb, but you really need to watch where you are going.” Jean scolded from behind you in a hushed tone. You let out the balloon of a breath you had been internalizing. If you hadn’t believed in angels before, Jean sure as hell was your angel now. He abruptly turned around and began waddling the two of you towards the entrance when you heard agile footsteps circling around you. Jean suddenly halted, the unexpected loss of movement sending you flailing.

“Hold up, Jean. Maybe she knew exactly where she was going.” Reiner purred. You felt Jean’s breath quicken against your ear and his grip on your temple tightened momentarily. You didn’t need to physically see Reiner’s face to picture the shit-eating smirk edging its way into his features.

“If you wanted me, Y/N, all you had to do was ask.”

The sound of wet feet against tile grew closer until you felt unwanted puffs of air leaving feather-light touches on your face. Jean suddenly flung you sideways like a cooked noodle, placing himself between you and Reiner and causing you to squeak in surprise.

“Fuck off Reiner. She doesn’t want to see your tiny dick.”  Jean spat back. A chorus of snickers resounded through the bathroom.

“She was trying hard just a moment ago to avoid the temptation.” Reiner huffed. His arrogance was like a tough stain that you couldn’t get out, no matter how hard you scrubbed.

“Sadly, I did see it and Jean’s right.” You groaned. Your best friend let out a snort followed by the laughter you could feel rumbling from his chest.

“You must not have gotten a good look at it then-”

"If you don't get out of our way, no one will get the minute pleasure of seeing your dick again." Jean sarcastically threatened.

"Please, Reiner, give it a rest." A soft voice pleaded to your right. You recognized it as a familiar cadet, one Jean had grown quite close to.

"Everyone else besides you is uncomfortable here." Marco's even tone was music to your reddened ears. There was a palpable silence of which you presumed was the soundtrack to an alpha male staring contest. Then, Reiner huffed and backed off seeing that the odds were against him.

"Fine, fine. You know you can always call on me Y/N." Reiner chided before sauntering back into the shower.

"The only call he'll be getting is from the infirmary." You grumbled under your breath.

“Can’t keep it in his pants for five minutes can he?” Jean scoffed lowly as he began leading you to the doorway.

“I mean he’s not wearing pants…” You mumbled, still trying to recover from the overwhelming shock and embarrassment. Jean stopped you at the entrance to the connecting hallway.

"When I let go, don't you dare look behind you." Jean warned, playfully swaying you back and forth.

"Okay just let me go!" You sputtered and swatted his arms before he released you.

You fixed your gaze on the tile walls and heaved a sigh of relief.

"Thanks Jean, I owe you one." You said, voice regaining its composure.

"Whatever, just buy me some food when we go into town next." He replied. You heard him turn around and begin padding back to the showers when you realized your shoulder was missing a fluffy presence. Your towel must have fallen off during your steamy showdown.

"Jean wait!!" You exclaimed. You turned around and in the waning of your flustered hysteria forgot you were technically still in the boy's bathroom. Both your and Jean's eyes almost popped out of their sockets.

"Shit, Y/N what did I say???" Jean exclaimed, hands immediately flying to cover his crotch. You breathed a heavy exhale, feeling the flames scorching your cheeks once more.

"Dammit, I'm sorry! My towel fell-" You sputtered and cursed at yourself for letting the heat flood your brain cells too.

"Ah! Y/N-" Marco appeared with your towel, only he was sporting his birthday suit as well. Oh, this could not get any worse. You were the embodiment of a beet, cheeks puffing in fear and eyes screwing shut.

"I have your towel, I was going to place it by the doorway but-um-here." Marco gently grabbed your hand and placed the towel in it. He laughed nervously and retreated back into the bath.

You turned back around to face opposite of the doorway and slumped your head into your hands exasperatedly.

"You good now?" Jean checked, slight annoyance evident in his tone.

"No." You whimpered in utter mortification.

“Reiner’s just a dick who thinks that everyone wants to see his own.” Jean said with a roll of his eyes.

"It was an accident, so don't worry. Plus this gives me prime blackmail material." He snickered. You shot him the middle finger over your shoulder.

“How am I going to face anyone in that room anymore?” You groaned sadly, the last three minutes of excitement playing on an endless loop within your mortified mind.

“Easy, if they bring it up just kick them on any part of their body you saw today.” Jean snickered.

“But I saw every-” You started to protest and then gasped in horror. Your humiliated expression deepened Jean’s smirk.

"We'll pretend it never happened. Now please, go to the proper bathroom before you play with the crazy lady. You stink."

↞↠

“Y/N? What’s wrong?” Hange asked, taking a break from poking at the titan’s dirtied toenail. When her apprentice approached the titan holding area she looked absolutely worn out.

“I have the extreme urge to scratch my eyes out.” You groaned, setting your bag of notes down and crouching in the grass next to her.

“Please don’t, today I need you to help me scratch Bean’s eye instead.”

↞♞♘↠

Levi’s grip threatened to shatter the glass pint as he brought it down onto the table with too much force.

“If we had been together when this happened I would have ripped off every one of their micro cadet penises.” He hissed, the alcohol turning into flames within his eyes.

There was a moment’s pause before the entire squad leader table erupted in laughter. The guffaw rattled the wood paneling and caused confused cadets to turn their heads in shock. Erwin accidentally snorted some of his beer and was now struggling with it coming out of his nose. Seeing the commander in such a state caused the same exact thing to happen to you, the burning of the alcohol hurt almost as much as your stomach did from hilarity. Mike kneed the table so hard that it sent his drink flying at Hange who moved out of the way to dodge it, only to smack into Levi’s chest. The action caused the two of them to double over and flip off the bench which only caused the rest of your table to create a larger cacophony.

Nights spent in cherished company like these were ones you held close to your heart.

[weirdlet]

So this whole thing started as a response to a request for trans orc characters, and my mind immediately went to ‘big tough war-chief’.  Seven-Ear grew out of that, and then later I was so fascinated with him that I started noodling with ‘well what if I dropped every cool thing I could on him’ and combined that with several of my notions of orcs, as despised and marginalized and disregarded as they are, saying ‘fuck it’ and doing the hard work for themselves, to become a people with standing and might on their own merits.  Politically, militarily, economically- metaphysically in some instances.

So I know that Sev is going on a journey throughout his life, echoing the sort of three-stage cycle that repeats through a lot of the myths I’m stealing from- becoming a man, becoming a king, becoming a god.  That’s a big ol’ journey.  But while my initial concentration has been on him and all the aggrandizing awesomeness I want to drop on my orc-king, no orc is an island.  He’s not alone, and he doesn’t get anywhere he gets alone.

Let’s start with his mom. 

I hadn’t defined her much, but on the ‘page one’ I wrote, she turned into one of the mid-level officers of the corps of her particular settlement- she gave birth to the child who will become Sev while out on maneuvers with her girls (like mother like son), which they do to patrol the borders of their territory from big monsters and from other threats.  She’s practical, but occasionally given to indulgences like continuing a pregnancy from a sire she’s fond of at an inconvenient time.  When Sev informs her he’s a boy, she’s more upset by the notion of him running off with the rough wild band that sons go to than of him not being a girl anymore- that part’s common enough, due to the sort of metaphysical mishmash orcs as a species go through, bodies don’t match up to spirits all the time.

Later, when he calls upon her for help, she brings him military backing moreso than he anticipated.

As of just this moment, Sev has at least one older sister by his mom.  She’s bossy but she shows him how to do all the important things for little orc kids to do, and helps practice dance with him, and knives.  She definitely shows up again later when his ma comes up with reinforcements, and knocks heads with him affectionately.

Originally, I wrote Sev’s brothers as merely antagonists for him to get through to inherit the chiefdom on his father’s death, but I think that’s going to change up once I actually get them some personality.  Certainly they’re going to be weirded out by sudden new sibling and give him shit- but I don’t think it’ll be any deadlier than average sibling rivalry.  The older he-orcs let the lads prettymuch sort themselves out so long as knives don’t get involved- where Sev gets his reputation is that when someone really starts pushing, he doesn’t need to get a knife involved so long as he has his teeth.

His dad- his father runs the war-band that does the more border-land patrol, the sort of orcs ‘civilized’ people are more likely to encounter.  This is where the sons tend to be dumped/recruited, and while there isn’t a full separation of the sexes, there’s a strong bias of ‘boys go out and do this, girls stay home and organize and kick out trouble-makers’.  But as a chieftain of the band, Sev’s dad is respected and has some standing with his fellow warriors, to the point where when the General calls, he’s one of the sub-chiefs who answers and is an important piece to have on the board.

The General- now, this guy’s fun.  I wanted an Azog-like figure with charisma, swag, and the kind of terrifying sexy that makes you think ‘I want him to destroy me’.  I want Sev to look at this guy and think ‘oh- that’s the appeal of having someone destroy you’.

So the General is a big charismatic warlord in the same sense that Sev will become, but even more ruthless and with a knife hidden behind his smile.  He’s the one pushing for the war that Sev will end up having to finish, and he’s also intent on bringing back the Old Ways, basically every nasty thing that was ever done to the orcs but this time under his command to create an unstoppable army in the tradition of the Empire that had once owned them.  He wants to conquer, and he wants to bring back Pit technology to do it.

But Sev doesn’t know that part until it’s almost too late, and I figure that before the coup, Sev is smitten.  Like- he looks up to the General as a mentor, and he is a moth to the flame of the General’s raw charisma and power.  He’s eager to please, planning a future under him, walks into a strategy meeting bloody and horny with an offering of severed heads and then gets fucked on the battle-map.

And then the General turns on him once he learns about the secret horrors of his renewing the Pit.  Probably the whole camp is on top of what used to be an Imperial breeding pit, much closer to the Smoking City than is usually considered safe so it hasn’t been cleared out by the old women who exorcise the dark places where they find them.  Sev gets dropped down a crevice into the muck, finding himself stuck with a starving warg because ‘nothing starts a Pit like warg shit’.

Sev bonds with the warg, escapes the Pit, and finally sneaks back into the encampment (which is in the midst of a bloody coup where he loses his father and brothers), and then he Gone-Girls that shit.  Sneaks into the General’s tent, cuts off his head, has a little speech about ‘I could have forgiven this.  I like a rough fuck as much as the next orc.  But you- you got me into a war I have to finish.’  Because now, even as he’s lost his male kin- this whole group as a whole was already organizing and pointed towards a massive gathering of human troops on their borders.  So he can’t just let the whole thing collapse, he has to take charge and become the General in his place.

So he has to walk out and make a big show of having taken over, flung severed head and all, and ride that tiger until the war is won.

His first son is born on the battlefield of the decisive victory, and the poor thing has the same piebald streak over his face that the General had.  Sev still keeps him, because superstition be damned, this is his kid and if it is his mentor/lover/betrayer reborn, well, this time things will be different.

His son grows up to be big and brash and bold just like his sire, but he’s Sev’s boy and loves his da.  A worthy heir and charming prince among orcs, his response to ‘how’d I get so lucky with you?’ is ‘I just tried to follow you, da’.

[shiberpostshere]

The Kiss Thief - Park Seonghwa Social Media AU

13. Chapter Nine: Mega big brain boy ✨

Previous Part✨ Next Part✨

Masterlist of the AU✨

🌸

Yesterday was wild. It was truly wild personified. Your friends and Seonghwa's friends mingled together to create, as Yeosang kept mentioning, chaos multiplied. 

Despite the loud talking, heavy eating, after-dinner meeting and dramatic goodbyes under the influence of alcohol, (No one has yet confessed who switched Cola with Alcohol. Hence, the appearance of bold Jongho) the time spent was the most fun you've had since college life began. 

It was fun but it was tiring staying up late.

The only thing that occupied your mind today was the thought of comfortable sheets putting you to sleep in your bed.

Currently, you're thinking about the same but with different emotions, specifically regret. 

"Why are you making a face like that? This is the fourth time you've zoned out today." Seonghwa's question pulls you out of your trance. 

You two wrapped the daily studio teaching a few minutes ago and the next occupants of the recording studio showed up when you were leaving. As Seonghwa conversed with them, you decided to text Yeri, who delivered you the news, shattering your napping plans. 

Why today, of all days, today I forgot my key? 

You rub your eyes and place the phone in your pocket. "You've been counting?" 

"Well, you're the only person here I am supposed to pay attention to. So yes, I've been counting. What's up?" He asks as you two begin walking down the stairs. 

Groaning, you push your hair back into an aggressively tight ponytail. "I forgot my dorm keys, I wanted to nap but now I need to pretend to study in the library while I complain loudly in my mind." 

He raises a brow, hands fishing out car keys from his pocket. "Why don't you just drink your deathly beverage? Doesn't it keep you all buzzed and active?" 

You stop in front of the building entrance with a smug expression. "Oh, my deathly beverage for which I attended the beverage addiction convention?" 

Looking down, he shakes his head. "Do you want to grab something to eat?" You expected a snarky or teasing remark but what is delivered surprises you for a moment. 

"Together?" The thought of just the two of you sharing a meal is enough for your heart to beat a little faster than usual.  

The time spent in the studio mostly consists of him correcting mistakes and answering your confused questions.

The initial embarassment is only subtly present. His playful comment are mostly absent when he's explaining what Hongjoong has already well explained to you. His presence is comfortable.

When among your friends there's always someone (mostly Mingi) chiming in now and then but this is the first time since you've met that you'll be spending time with each other. 

Frankly, you also don't know how to act around everyone with him when even sneezing is considered giggling. You two haven't exactly acknowledged openly about your high school crush on him other than easy, playful conversation you two engage in quite a lot, whether texting or talking. 

"No, we'll be sitting on seperate tables." He begins walking towards his car. You had half-expected an answer like that. 

"Really? That sounds great, at least I don't have to put up with your nagging." Arriving by his side, you comment with a side eye. 

He offers you a deadpan expression. "Didn't you listen to what Yeosang said? I'm actually that clueless. That open discussion about me, remember." 

"Are you really? I have receipts of your messages admitting how you find my reactions 'cute'." You tap your pocket, contaning the source of evidence, your phone. 

The confidence comes when with him without you having to muster up any.

Seonghwa unlocks his car, a small hint of smile on his lips. "Okay, let's continue this conversation while eating." 

This boy. 

"Are you really that unphased? Are you really that clueless? Teach me your ways." 

He opens the door to the passenger's seat. "I'll feed you instead." 

You place your hands on your chest, followed by a dramatic expression. "Wow, you're amazing at deflecting." 

Seonghwa places a hand on his hip and that's your cue to get inside before losing your free meal ticket. 

You'd rather eat with Seonghwa any day instead of pretending to study at the library with droopy eyes.

🌸

After a ten minutes ride to a small and cozy restaurant, you two are seated in the chatter filled environment with two servings of soup in front of you loaded with vegetables, meat and noodles.  

He arranges the spoons for both of you.

"Better than greasy food that will make you more sleepy." He sips a spoonful and an instant satisfaction takes over his features.

You chuckle. "Oh my god, you're really a mom material---" The comment is instantly regretted as you taste the refreshing soup, enough to widen your eyes. 

He slurps the noodles and then turns to you with a victorious smile. "You develop motherly instincts when you hang out with children." 

"Children?" You're listening to him but the soup definitely has a majority of your attention. "Oh, you mean the guys?"

"All the seven of us are uniquely handful," The smile is still ever present on his lips. 

Even though you haven't spent much alone time with him, you can still detect the warmth filled, selfless nature he had back then and still has it within him now.

That was one of the main reasons you were attracted to him. 

Okay, not now (Y/N), let's not make it awkward. 

You take a big bite of the juicy, broth soaked meat. "You're still as initiative and kind as I remember." Speaking with much difficulty, you hold up your hand in front of your lips, "But I think something went wrong somewhere and you developed the quality of enjoying making fun of innocent girls like me." 

He offers you a tissue with his trademark, unphased expression. "I am actually that clueless." He shrugs. 

You snatch the tissue and wipe the corner of your lips. "Yeah, sure." 

He laughs at the look on your face. "What? You can't take a little teasing from your senior?" 

You throw up your hands in false frustration. "Oh my god, stop asserting your age kink!" 

"It's not a kink!" He says defensively. 

"Yes, sure. Mingi is Mingi but you, you are something else!" You say the statement, knowing that he understands the meaning behind it and begin sipping the remaining broth.

He too, downs the broth in one shot. "What am I?"

There it is, that amused and knowing glint in his eyes and the smirk he's attempting to hide. 

"You're..I don't know, whatever. Seventeen year old Seonghwa would never do this to me" You bite your tongue after delivering the statement.

He crosses his arms below his chest. "Seventeen year old Seonghwa was actually clueless." 

You point a finger at him with an exaggerated smirk. "Ha! You are basically saying that twenty-one year old Seonghwa isn't!" 

He places his head on his hands, shoulders shaking with gentle laughter. "(Y/N) if you keep reacting like that, do you really think I can stop?" 

Your expressive gesture shrinks. "You know what, I understand now." You hold up your hands in defeat. 

"No, don't stop now. We are finally opening up and talking." He gives you an encouraging nod. 

"Oh, don't trick me now. My eyes are about to roll back into my head." Your fingers undo the ponytail to let your hair breath. 

Sleep has abandoned your senses long ago but only now you realise how energized you're feeling.

"Fifteen year old (Y/N) would never." The innocent face of his doesn't do justice to the way he is speaking. 

"Hey!" You protest.

Wow, I sure react to everything he says. 

"Fine, fine. I'll stop now but If it ever gets beyond the limit, tell me." He assures with an honest expression. 

God, you cannot be teasing one minute and be kind the other, no, don't do this Park Seonghwa. 

You huff out a sigh and lean into your palms. "It is harmless anyway but you're too good at it and sometimes you are something else."

He mirrors your posture. "Yes, (Y/N), so tell, What am I? What is something else?" 

Your face falls into your palm and you hear his soft chuckles. 

Not again, Park Seonghwa, not again. 

Pairing: College Student! Seonghwa x College Student! Female Reader

Genre: Fluff, A teeny tiny bit of smut with a pinch of angst

Synopsis: High school crushes are often silly and forgotten. However, you cannot forget the one senior, you "borrowed" once a kiss from. Years have passed and it's a memory you laugh at but what will happen if you're to encounter the same senior in a much different setting and situation? Especially during your first year of college.

A/N: He make fun of you, he tease you but mostly importantly, he feed you 🙏🏻

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[once-upon-a-scenario]

shii— fluff scenario with shinobu? Like ya blog !!

Sure thing, and thank you- your blog is also really rad, it’s so cool to see something dedicated to the female characters ^^ I kinda went way more ham with this than I initially planned and also struggled with writing Shinobu, but I hope it’s enjoyable nonetheless! ;-; -Eve Udon: Shinobu/reader _________

“Who was that?” Your mouth is dry, and you feel just a little dizzy- swept off balance, as it were. Colors suddenly look more vibrant than they usually do. “Dunno.” The udon stall man scratches his nose a touch impatiently, eyeing your wallet and the bowl of noodles sitting in front of you. “Some sort of rich lady, I suppose. Not for the likes of you or me to speculate. Now, you wanna pay for that? Or actually eat it?” Dazedly, you fish out the required amount of money, almost dropping it in the broth as you hand it to him. Your eyes are still fixed on the small, swift figure disappearing in the distance, her butterfly-shaped hairpin glittering purple in the sunlight. It might be just your imagination, but a vague floral perfume seems to linger in the air, too- it overpowers the udon, and as you begin to eat, you imagine that you might have just seen a goddess on earth.

“I’d like to see her again,” you murmur once the bowl is empty, more to yourself than to anyone else. You still smell flowers. Something like lavender, distincty sweet and bright. Udon man sighs and shakes his head. “Yeah, if a brat like you ever brings a lady like that back here, I’ll eat my own hat.” You bow in farewell and grin. “You said it, not me.” ______ Approximately six hours later, you find yourself racing at breakneck speed through the dark streets. “Why the hell,” you demand, half to yourself, half to the shadowy figure hot on your heels as you duck into a twisty alleyway, hoping to throw it off, “Why the hell does he have horns on his head, what is this, please do not tell me that demons actually exist, because I think I’m a little too young to die-” The alleyway’s dark and reeks of alcohol. If you’re correct (and you probably are), it’s the one that leads up to Sato-san’s inn, where you could find asylum; he’s a family friend, after all. You pick your pace, trying to ignore the feeling of your heart almost bursting out of your chest, and make a mad dash down the slippery stone street towards the yellow lights glowing in the windows. I am not getting eaten alive before I ask someone out. The sentiment dies into a sharp gasp as you suddenly become aware of the heavy, rasping breathing behind you, and you whirl around just in time to see the dark, man-shaped shadow lunging forward, one veiny hand reaching towards you with taloned fingers and drool running from the fanged mouth and oh shit, you’re losing your footing, you’re going to fall and the thing’s going to be on top of you- “Dance of the Bee Sting: True Flutter.” It’s kind of like watching a scene from your childhood. Like the handmade paper boats you often dropped into the gutters by accident, where the boat-shaped paper would begin to stain in the dirty water, then bend, then fold, then crumple into nothingness. The creature, whatever it was, crumples into a pool of blood and guts. Its claws never reach you. You sit there, a distinct throbbing in your hip bone where you hit it on the ground, and stare up at your savior. Her purple butterfly hairpin glints in the moonlight as she looks down at you. “Hello! Lovely evening, isn’t it?” Not entirely believing your good luck and feeling just the slightest bit faint (you didn’t realize, before, that her eyes are purple too, soft and vivid and completely enchanting, god you’re really far gone), you nod, still staring. It’s her. The lady. She just saved your life. By dissolving a horned monster into a pile of melty flesh and blood on the pavement. You might actually be in love. “...thank you for saving my life,” you say, a little stupidly. She looks surprised, but then, almost pleased. “The pleasure is all mine. Are you hurt?” “No-” you begin, and try to scramble to your feet, only to collapse with a sharp intake of breath. Pain shoots up your leg. “I...maybe? My ankle...” “Dear, dear.” She crouches down beside you and reaches out, prodding the area with a sure, careful touch. You’ve been surviving in this city since you were born, and you know a professional when you see one- or feel one. Butterfly lady is apparently a goddess, a monter hunter, and a healer to boot. “I think you must have sprained it when you fell. Would you mind if my companion and I escorted you back home?” “I’d- yeah, I’d be really grateful,” you manage to get out. “Wonderful. And oh-” she holds out her hand, which you take awkwardly, and try to shake without seeming foolish. “My name is Kocho Shinobu. Pleasure to make your acquaintance.” _____ ”Say, um..” you try not to wince as you hobble alongside Kocho-san’s ‘’companion,’’ a stern-faced man of few words who introduced himself as Tomioka Giyuu. “...do you like udon, Kocho-san?” She looks at you curiously, cocking her head to one side. “Well, it depends on the udon. Why do you ask?” That’s not a no!  This is officially one of the less intelligent ideas you’ve had in a while- trying to flirt when you’ve just escaped what was possibly a near death experience, are being escorted home by strangers, and still have about a thousand questions that you probably aren’t going to ask because you’ve seen some strange things in your time and it’s not like you ever dismissed the idea of demons existing, anyway- but you decide to take the plunge. Monster-slaying goddesses with inhuman grace and healing hands aren’t exactly a common presence in your neighborhood. Better to take a chance while you’ve still got it. Looking charming and relaxed while limping at Tomioka’s side is not an easy feat. To your credit, you try very hard. “Oh, well, I just happen to know a place. And if you’ll be staying in town, the very least I could do is buy you a meal. My treat. As thanks for...saving me?” She looks at you for a long, quiet moment, her gaze focused and mildly thoughtful. The silence stretches on. You begin to sweat. Then, she hums. ”That’s a very generous offer, but your ankle needs to heal before you go wandering about again. If you follow the instructions I gave you and get better within the next week or so...” she smiles, and it’s like her entire face lights up; you feel your heart stop in your chest- “...I’m staying at the inn back in that alleyway.” It’s decided. You’re not afraid of instructions, and you are not losing this chance because of a sprained ankle, of all things. You grin back at her. “I’ll be with you in a couple of days, then!” ______ (“You know,” Tomioka says suddenly, to the night air, or perhaps to no one in particular, “I don’t like udon.” “You’re welcome to go eat salmon by yourself, Tomioka-san,” Kocho-san replies sweetly. You decide you agree with that sentiment- you’d forgotten about him when you offered the invitation. Tomioka just sighs deeply.) _____ Approximately six days later, you find yourself at Udon man’s stall, standing next to Kocho-san as you open your wallet. Udon man stares at you and shakes his head before he takes your money. “Kids these days,” you can hear him muttering to himself under his breath as he putters off to make the food, “They think they’re funny...don’t you ask me to eat my hat, now.” “I wasn’t going to, don’t worry!” Kocho-san watches this exchange, mouth twitching with humor. “I feel as if I’m missing something.” “Maybe,” you admit, unable to help the heat that rises to your cheeks as you recall your first one-sided encounter with her- it feels unreal, to think that you actually did end up on a date with the mysterious Butterfly Lady and that she’s standing here in the flesh at the udon stall, standing too close to you and at the same time, not close enough. “I swear it’s not anything unflattering, though. It’s just a funny story.” She laughs, then, and the warm golden glow from the latterns in the summer night illuminates her face like something unearthly, layers of human secrets that you’ve yet to understand and yet to become fully acquainted with. Your heart stops as she leans forward a little, eyes half-lidded, lashes fanning over her cheekbones and casting shadows like butterfly wings. “Well, we have all night. Why don’t you start from the beginning?” And while you wait for the udon and stare in infatuated amazement at Kocho-san as she listens to your words and nods along, you’re not afraid to confess that you feel extraordinarily lucky.

[oristromboli]

If You Be Our Star, We’ll Be Your Sky | 3

Chapter 3: Straw Dogs

Childe cocks an eyebrow, smirk barely melting into a snarl. “And what would you know? You stay behind the scenes while the rest of us do real work.”

Scaramouche's slow smile is poisonous and laced with contempt as he hisses, “You should know there is a Liyue saying that goes ‘Heaven and Earth are impartial, treating all creatures like straw dogs.’ When the sacrifices have fulfilled their purpose, they are discarded because there is no more use and care for such worthless objects. Didn’t dear Morax tell you of this philosophy himself, Childe?”

(Smut this chapter: Zhongli/Childe)

In your dreams, you hear maniacal laughter ring around you. Somehow the emptiness begins to oscillate, reaching towards you with endless gnarled limbs and bloodshot eyes that won’t stop watching. You back into a wall that wasn’t there before, unforgiving edges all but flaying the skin on your back as you try to escape.

They’re coming.

You turn and run. There’s a golden light beckoning you, so you urge your legs to go faster, but the light never gets closer. If anything, it grows more distant. This path will end in madness.

They’re coming.

You decide a new route to traverse before those twisted hands seize you. When was there water? Is it water? It grows thicker, warmer, rises to your knees, your chest, your throat. You can’t breath. You’re drowning.

They’re coming. And you’re alone.

 ---

 You feel a hand on your shoulder gently shaking you awake, fear seizing your throat in a silent gasp as you try to orient yourself. You’re okay, you’re okay, just breathe, you’re okay. When you look to your right, Aether’s golden eyes meet your own as he stands near your bed with the Seelie fastidiously hanging by his side. Sweat glistens on his forehead and his pupils are blown too.

Neither of you say anything as you open your blanket and he crawls in to join you, tucking against your side to hide his face. Each night spent chained to this world you witness a new side to Aether as he comes undone at the seams.

He and Lumine were inseparable. She shouldered all his secrets, as he did hers. When they rescued you that night so many centuries ago, you promised to safeguard the two of them while they covered each other. You did not need to know everything that happened between them and before your arrival, just as they did not ask for you to fill all the holes in their understanding of you.

This night – the night immediately after facing a fallen god’s wrath – you both hug each other tightly. Is this how it felt to be on the other end of the heavens’ sword? Though Zhongli left Liyue to fend for themselves as a test, you still cannot help but feel angry with the silence of your own people as you were both abandoned without care.

Realization dawns through that cracked armor about how broken you both feel without your divine powers. How cold without that eternal light, Lumine. What did she feel in her last moments, what hatred for the skies?

Still, this is enough. Sorrow needs a place to sleep, needs hands to hold its delicate shape and say it is alright. It is not always loud, nor sharp, nor clean. Sometimes, it just needs a place to rest until morning.

“I miss her,” he mumbles, barely audible above your own heartbeat.

“Me too.”

This is enough.

 ---

 Xiao turns his head, heeds the all too familiar calls of a nightmare. Just call his name Aether, just utter it once and he’ll be there. When silence is all that greets him, Xiao instead follows that smokey trail until he comes upon the inn’s room. The fight with Osial is fresh in his mind, so he imagines the same must be said of Aether and yourself. Both of you hold the other tightly, blissfully unaware of the vigilante keeping watch.

Xiao wants to lean forward, to brush Aether’s hair out of his face and say it’s alright, but he refrains from encroaching more than he already is. Instead, the adeptus leaves an offering of herbs that relax the mind on the windowsill for their discovery.

When the morning arrives, Aether is the first to wake and finds the gift left behind. Even if there’s no name attached, he knows precisely who left it. A boyish smile breaks on his face as he leans out the window to smell the fresh air and, admittedly, try to catch sight of the adeptus. “Thank you, Xiao,” Aether murmurs with the full force of his sincerity, pure and golden. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but come to me whenever you can’t sleep either. Maybe I can sing you a lullaby.”

Do adepti even sleep? Aether shakes his head at himself, but he doesn’t stop smiling. He hopes that one day, the yaksha will take him up on his offer.

On the inn’s rooftop overlooking Liyue Harbor, Xiao’s heart flickers with hope.

 ---

 Childe flexes his arm, raising his fist back and forth to test the ligaments and muscles. They work fine, but he still feels that dark electricity pulsing; in some ways, he feels as though he’s the marionette being strung along. The Foul Legacy Transformation always collects its toll, and each day Tartaglia fights, he fights to gain the strength to beat back that beast that lingers in his peripheral.

He wonders if each time he transforms, a bit more of his soul returns to the abyss, how soon the day will come that the Harbinger is dragged back. Though, if the Tsaritsa ever catches wind, he’s sure the ever-curious and macabre Dottore would become his new best friend. How nice. If that’s not depressing, he’s not sure what is.

“Childe,” Zhongli calls. He snaps out of his reverie and an easy smile slides back into place, fitting perfectly with his wayward good looks. The ex-god is staring at him, gripping his bowl of noodles and wielding his chopsticks with a deft precision Childe knows he’ll never achieve.

He wonders how many people have been killed by those hands.

“You appear lost in thought once more,” Zhongli rumbles, stare becoming more intense.

“Ah! Forgive me, I am just reflecting on my trip with Teucer. Took a bit out of me, ya know,” he replies, shrugging genially. Best not to dwell on the negatives. Though it took many long hours of meditation – he still remembers his frustration at just trying to sit still because who the fuck does that willingly – at Zhongli’s suggestion, no less, Tartaglia finds it easier to manage his impulsive thoughts before they follow the most practical (cynical) route. After all, he’s trained warrior and follows one rule: ‘Don’t let the enemy see you bleed.’

“I see.”

Well shit. Broke rule number one.

The pair are sitting at one of the tables at Liuli Pavilion at the god’s behest; it’s been a handful of weeks since the… incident, and barely one since Teucer decided to surprise him. They’ve met more often than perhaps the last months leading up to the fateful encounter at the Golden House, especially with Childe’s time in Liyue coming to a close within the week. Each spare moment is split between the Travelers and Zhongli. At first, Childe admits, he dragged the former Archon along to properly size him up, try to understand where exactly he fucked up his estimations of his character. Though he’s been called back to Zapolyarny Palace, Childe notes that the order recalling him does not say to stop observing Zhongli.

So he does just that. It’s for the Tsaritsa, he tries justifying to himself, nothing more than selfish curiosity. Yeah, that sounds about right.

Not for the first time, Tartaglia ignores this… intensity in his chest, burning traitorously bright and intense and passionate when he sees the god. Childe thinks back to his journey of how this came about: orders turned to curiosity, turned to attempted manipulations, turned to genuine fondness and betrayal and – and –

As though reading his thoughts, Zhongli puts down the bowl, his full attention on Tartaglia now. Great. “It is more than Teucer and your injuries. Did you truly recover?”

“Yeah, of course. I’m always getting stronger, remember?” Right?

Amber eyes narrow. “Did you recover?”

Ah.

“Mm, yeah, still trying to figure out how you managed to guess so easily that I would resort to summoning Osial to get to you.” They both know he’s lying through his teeth, but Zhongli thankfully plays along this time.

“To be fair, your character is straight forward.”

Childe laughs, bright and genuine for the first time this conversation. “I, Tartaglia, am the Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui! The Vanguard of the Harbingers. How dare you say that I am so easy to read, when I have always been the first sent to initiate bloodshed, as according to our many long and boring schemes.” The last parts of his sentence fizzles out as his nose curls in distaste. Show no weakness. “Well, in any case, you know I never enjoyed that stuff anyway. Take it head on or don’t at all.”

Zhongli nods, understanding his meaning. Childe maneuvers his head to find amber eyes and raises his eyebrows, suggestive and giddy; he saw in Zhongli an intelligent man before, but now? Oh, oh! A battleworthy opponent. Maybe the god picked up on his not-so-subtle hints for a fight?

“I am still not going to spar you.”

Worth a shot.

“Ah, well, I tried.” Childe reaches for a pair of chopsticks and tries again. When both men watch as the Fatui manages to pick up a piece of meat without trouble, there’s a sudden shift in the atmosphere, warm and nostalgic. It settles deep between them.

“You know…” Childe starts, looking at Zhongli, really looking at him, soft eyes reflecting something foreign in those ocean blues. “I appreciate your consideration for me. Really. You won, fair and square, checkmate and all. I hope to one day be able to manipulate the battlefield as excellently.”

Zhongli returns his smile, and Childe ignores the something that falls in his heart. “Understanding your opponents is half the battle, both literally and figuratively,” the god laughs, clearly amused at his own play on words. He joins in, if only to indulge the silly man.

Another silence. He looks around them and releases a deep sigh. Yeah, okay, he can admit privately that this is nice.

“Do you ever feel bad about it?” he asks suddenly, surprising them both. Now, where the fuck did that come from?

When he thinks of you, Childe feels something else, something cold settle beside his confusion, a sensation he hasn’t felt in a long time. Guilt. Of course, his companion understands the unspoken implications, eyes falling to the ring Childe wears. Both men still remember vividly how violently you three reacted, all teeth and pain and fury bared. He has long since made peace with you, but…

He looks to the boats on the ocean, swaying back and forth, back and forth. His heart moves with them. Something feels unsettled, unsaid… A loose thread. Childe’s heart squeezes at that thought. Fantastic.

“I have no regrets,” Zhongli replies, tone firm and final, clearly choosing his words carefully and mindful for any straining ears. “I did what was best. Moves and countermoves. All things can be bargained in the end, and Liyue won its right to be independent that day.”

Blue eyes narrow. “Bargained?  You mean bought?” He rolls the word around his tongue, tasting it. Yeah, no. Tastes like shit. “You think people can be treated like that so easily?”

Neither of them needs to say it, but both know of the lingering bitterness towards the Tsaritsa. Childe adores her attitude of achieving harmony at any cost, including war, but the underhanded nature of being used himself makes him feel less like a general and more like a pawn. Even there, in Liyue’s hot climate, is her frozen heart felt. However, Zhongli narrows his own eyes. “Are you not the leader of the Northland Bank?”

Childe scoffs and is the first to break the impromptu staring contest. “That’s different, people knew what they were getting into. They didn’t. I… I made a mistake and apologized, but still. It feels… Wrong. I feel wrong.”

“Because you feel as though you sunk to the Tsaritsa’s level?” Zhongli’s soft voice tugs Childe back into looking at him, and he immediately regrets it. Oh. Oh man. He’s very… intensely feeling something for this man. What is it? Everything and nothing. Fondness, yes, warmth, yes, but nothing of that garbage in those cheap romance novels his sisters love to read. Nothing… fuzzy, because truly no, that’s not right either, doesn’t feel right. Childe swallows and nods.

“Yeah,” he croaks. Wow. Really pathetic, but whatever, all pretenses are gone now between them. Right? “We’re good now, yeah? We’re being honest with each other? Have been? Will be?” Childe winces lightly at how quickly he rattled those off like he’s trying to reassure himself more than Zhongli. In a way, he is.

“We are, have been, will be,” the consultant responds, voice lighter and taking Childe’s heart with him.

“Cool.”

A beat.

“But you still didn’t answer my question. Do you really think of us mort- people so low?”

Something else emerges, not unfamiliar when he thinks of the god. Frustration, irritation. Nothing new, but again, not right either.

Zhongli tilts his head, not unlike a cat with golden pupils in slits. Ah, he’s cute, cute in the same way the furry little creatures are before they leap at their prey. The god rolls his head briefly like he’s trying to shake his own thoughts out, untangle them.

From what?

“Do you wish for my response as a mortal, or as my… previous station?”

Ah. Choosing between which face to use. Tartaglia understands this intimately and finds another piece of common ground to stand with the old god.

“Both.”

“Mortals fascinate me, and for the first time in a very, very long time, I am afforded the luxury of… Walking as one. Experiencing life as they do.”

“Wait wait wait wait – “ Childe is shaking his head and holds up his hands. “You say that as if being… you is so different. Is it?”

“In a way, it is,” Zhongli nods. “As someone of my age, knowing of the limitless future, there is no need to attempt to comprehend anything beyond the next battle, the next project for my people. What time wounds will be mended by time once more. If we are being honest –“

“We are.”

“I never cared for understanding the inner workings to life. I could not during those days, I stood as the stone shield to protect my companions. Instead, I faced my problems head on, relentless and straightforward and precise. Actions and emotions were separated; one could not reflect upon the other during times of conflict.”

Childe huffs in a half-hearted laugh. He always pitied the unfortunate souls caught in Zhongli’s spear. “I think I’m starting to see your point Zhongli. Our once-gentle Tsaritsa understands this reality intimately, especially now that she declared the world her enemy to achieve peace.”

“In essence, for the Cryo Archon believes gentleness and humanity to be weaknesses these days.”

“I hear a ‘but’ somewhere in there, though.”

“My friend… Guizhong, she… She understood mortals, encouraged me to watch them and learn, sought for me to unlock what she claimed was true strength. Many weaker gods have passed, their spirits barely a whisper and their memories all but forgotten. Stronger deities, such as Osial, will never truly depart but just slumber for the opportunity to rise again. Even some Adepti linger if they do not choose reincarnation. So then, what did she mean by ‘true strength’? I did not understand.” Zhongli’s voice cracks briefly, so Childe’s hand reaches across the table to grasp the other’s. He offers a comforting smile, a rare sight on a Harbinger’s face, but he regards Zhongli as a truly rare companion worthy of his undying loyalty.

Zhongli returns it and Childe’s heart flutters. He knows that he’s just a mortal, what can he do to protect the God of War? Still, if he can at least stave off some of those bad memories, then it’s worth it. The man rubs slow circles on the god’s hand to ground him to the present.

“As the years passed, I observed. In the end, we are all the same. I have found that a singular purpose guides each individual and drives their spirit to fight, to linger, to be born anew and try again. Understanding that guiding desire is the key to establishing proper contracts.”

“Mm, so, basically, there’s an order to life?” he responds, poking fun at Zhongli’s motto to lighten the atmosphere. Childe’s shit-eating grin grows wide at Zhongli’s dry, unimpressed look that crosses his face. Still, there’s a hint of fondness and gratitude, if Childe squints hard enough. Hey now, he can’t be disappointed in the Fatui’s little jab considering the absolutely dad-styled joke he made earlier.

“Indeed. Gods, adepti, and people can therefore be bought. All things can, even an Archon’s gnosis. We are all equal in that respect.”

Childe nods and retracts his hand to stab a piece of meat with his chopsticks. Nothing threatening, he just needs a way to guide his thoughts. There must be some dubious psychology, though, in deciding his brain is the piece of meat he just committed casual violence against.

The Fatui can’t help but wonder if Zhongli is still missing the big picture in deciding that life can be simplified to a series of contractual choices, even if it eases the immortal’s pain of losing the things he values most over and over again. Then again, does Childe even know what that picture looks like himself? “I get debts, but this feels different, y’know? I understand the value of connections and people more intimately than most, but… People aren’t things. You can’t completely own them for the sake of having them.”

(Morax, the glaze lilies around him whisper, you cannot hoard people.)

“Then,” Zhongli says, ignoring the voices of times past, “What do you call your collection of these valuable people?”

Childe laughs, full and bright and roguish. “Give and take, my friend! Give and take. All things must be equal in the end as you said yourself, no?”

 ---

 “Why him?”

The Tsaritsa’s icy gaze pierces his own, and Zhongli’s lips quirk up, the only indication of any betraying thoughts lurking behind that stony visage.

They both know he allowed her to the courtesy of witnessing it.

“Your other Harbingers all lurk within the shadows, but from what you describe, Tartaglia wields them like a weapon. He is a refined tool for chaos. No one else is mad enough to summon a long-dead deity.”

“Whatever I ask of my Harbingers, they will bring. Signora can summon Osial all the same. So, I ask again, why him?” Her eyes challenge him, demonstrating her confidence in front of the oldest of the Seven.

How arrogant of her.

“Two Archons already lay their claim on him, do they not? Vision and Delusion,” he replies.

“Moves and countermoves.”

“So why not him, Tsaritsa?”

Her biting laugh suddenly rings out, bouncing against the ice around them. “Morax, you are indeed cruel for nothing to escape you. Perhaps he is perfect for your plans, then, as malleable as that boy is. Very well. I will assign him to Liyue.”

Zhongli’s fists curl behind his back. So little regard for the mortals under her charge, so little care.

The Tsaritsa waves her hand dismissively. “It is merely coincidence that the boy is favored. He just embodies the valued qualities of our nations, I assure you. You will find him most agreeable.”

One eyebrow arches. “Whether I find him agreeable is irrelevant. As long as he fulfills his designated purpose, I am content.”

She looks at him, studies him. “Indeed.”

 ---

 “Why him?”

Zhongli looks to Ganyu, curious and gentle eyes flickering between his. They stand on Mt. Tianheng, watching the harbor rebuild. It’s been a few hours since his lunch with Childe, and he agreed to meet with one of his most loyal – and oldest – friends afterwards. Ganyu is one of the few adepti who have,  presently, seen him physically outside of gifted visions and dreams. He was always fond of her company, even if the young qilin has an unwavering habit of napping precisely when it was most inconvenient.

“You have taken many lovers over the years, participated in contractual commitment, as per customary of your gifts. Never with someone so impish, though. Why him?” Her questions are not frigid, imperial, challenging; no, she asks out of genuine concern and care for his wellbeing. Always the soothing soul.

He smiles at her. “It is because of his impish behaviors I find him so interesting.” Turning back towards the harbor, he pauses for a beat before continuing. “This is not the first time I have courted and taken lovers, and eventually, he too discovered my real identity. All of my lovers understood precisely who they were engaging themselves with.”

Her eyes follow his to the harbor, lost in thought. Idly, she reaches for some leaves in a silk flower shrub to her right, tempted to pluck its leaves to eat. A nervous habit. “Yes. But none were so disrespectful.”

Zhongli chuckles, rich and true, no longer burdened with maintaining appearances. “You are correct. His treatment of me did not change after learning of my identity, the first mortal to dare such behavior. No, he still treats me as his equal, not as a god. He cared for me at first as an enemy, but now, his heart pours generosity regardless of old wounds and without expectation of anything in return.”

Give and take. Childe is breaking his own rules once again.

Soft lips curl around your name, Ganyu’s questions endless now that it has been unleashed. “What of her? Why? She is the first immortal you have been enamored with since the glaze lilies wilted.”

Zhongli crosses his arms and closes his eyes, contemplating his answer. A distant and wistful expression breaks, though Ganyu cannot see it. “Because the Travelers are most curious beings. They have shared in burdens similar to my own, and I find it comforting to know that there are others who understand deeply what I feared to be alone in ever since she left.”

The waters of time have worn away his stone heart, and yet… He feels renewed, like spring has finally arrived after leaving him so many lifetimes ago.

“Celestia’s burdens are now put to rest, Ganyu. Where before I did not end my duties for fear of a lack of purpose beyond that point, I realize now that I am free to pursue what I could never have. Serendipity would have it that I have found attractive companions to walk it with. Perhaps this is her final trial for me.”

“But, Zhongli… She is not Guizhong.” The unspoken warning lingers in the air.

(Do not dishonor living company with the memories of those long dead.)

“I know.” Soft leather creaks as his fingers tighten.

(I won’t.)

She fears for her master’s softened soul, though she remains too loyal to speak.

Ganyu’s lips purse and she thinks once again of those reflective blue eyes, of Tartaglia’s fierce dedication to duty and love of battle, of how he cares only for the satisfaction of the next victory. She thinks of a younger Morax, tall and proud as he led their people to glory with jade shields and obsidian spears.

What, then, is Tartaglia trying to protect?

How interesting that this mortal mirrors so much of the deity before her; the birth of one, the death of another.

“The timing is interesting for your mortal paramour as well; do you not agree?” She hesitates, attempting to choose her next words with, perhaps, greater care than she does for the Qixing. “How she falls from the heavens, how he walks into your life now that you are free to explore it.”

Zhongli waves his hand dismissively before he catches himself. “Merely coincidence.”

Ganyu narrows her eyes this time. “You do not believe in coincidence.”

He doesn’t respond.

 ---

 Ajax sits in his bed, flipping his dagger around and around, vulnerable and alone in his thoughts. The new moon gives way to a blanket of stars, distant but lingering nonetheless. When the man looks to his left, the chopsticks Zhongli gave him those many months ago rest undisturbed.

He grins then, uninhibited delight gleaming. “Well well well, anything can be mastered, right?” It’s not like he’s going to be able to sleep anytime soon with the way his mind races. Ajax groans as he reaches over to grasp the utensils and stands, stretching out the day’s stress.

He has time to prove Zhongli wrong, he can master these infernal sticks or he doesn’t deserve the title of Eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui. At the very least, he wants to eat a full meal with the man without resorting to just stabbing his food because that’s just downright pathetic. The Harbinger looks out his window again to the sky, a twinkle in his eye, before turning around, set on finding some leftovers to practice on.

The stars certainly appreciate the ensuing clumsy entertainment.

 ---

 Another day, another meal. Come on, Childe tells himself, this is it, this will be the one-

The noodles slide out of his chopsticks’ grip, and he sighs, tossing his head back and running his left hand through his orange locks. “Pretty sure I’m just cursed at this point…”

He smiles when he hears Zhongli snickering with at least some decency to try to cover his mouth.

“You know, the Travelers have no issue applying themselves to those tools, so why do you?” Childe snorts, but only kicks the other under the table.

“I’ve seen the way you look at her, you know,” he starts casually. Zhongli looks at him, eyebrow quirked, but a smirk emerges nonetheless.

“Oh? Is this another one of your jokes, Childe?”

He laughs, shaking his head with a mischievous expression to match. “Nah. It’s okay, you know, I don’t mind. Our little… Stress relief is not exclusive.” At that, Zhongli’s eyes narrow. He slowly leans forward and steeples his gloved fingers, resting his chin on them, deep in thought. Was it… Did Zhongli not believe him? “ ‘m being honest,” he says as he raises his hands in a show of peace.

“I know you are. Which is why I’m curious.”

Childe gulps, suddenly very aware of the scrutiny he’s put under. He has nothing to hide, but Zhongli’s boring into him like the man grew a second head. “About what?”

The god leans back and picks up his chopsticks, apparently having decided on whatever it is that Childe just blurted. He doesn’t respond, but his shoulders shake with contained laughter like he’s in on some inside joke, and oh, the asshole. “Hey, don’t pretend you didn’t hear me. About what?”

Amber eyes flick up at him, amusement just rolling off of him in waves. “About why you did not pursue her yourself. You are not the only observant one here.”

Whatever happened to don’t let them see you bleed? He winces and starts a plastic laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. Why does the old man never pull any punches? “Ah, well, y’know…” A gloved hand waves around pathetically, trying to somehow grab the words out of thin air to explain for him. “She’s just so distant. And angry. And strong.”

“Like that ever stopped you. As a matter of fact,” Zhongli purrs, “I recall that exciting you.”

“Har har, just don’t go around telling everyone about my kinks, alright? Besides, we started this little thing of ours before that whole fiasco, but don’t get me wrong, this is just all pent-up tension. She isn’t afraid to fight me, like you. Gotta get my sick kicks somewhere else,” Childe grins, eyes daring the other to take the bait.

“Mm, I am not fighting you, comrade.”

“Damn it.”

“But you are simply proving my point, you never back down from a challenge. So why then?” Shit, he has a point. Why didn’t he? Childe only grunts and reaches for a dumpling, intent on trying again and thoroughly exasperated that Zhongli is just deflecting his own curiosity.

“You tell me,” Childe drawls, long and sarcastic. “I thought dear Morax always got what he wanted?” Zhongli sighs and closes his eyes, frustration bubbling forth. Yeah, okay, Childe was being immature, he’ll admit it. Zhongli can go screw himself though, the guy was being annoyingly spot-on.

“Funny how an equally possessive man accuses me as such. I suppose… it did not feel right to start something that is – as you describe it – ‘stress relief’ after the incident. Not with her,” Zhongli’s jaw tightens before he resumes eating, adamant at leaving it like that. Still, Childe nods sagely and without irony this time around. Yeah, that’s a good way to describe it. His feelings for you were no different than his own towards Zhongli, but it was also… Not the same. Your name tastes different in his mouth, left his heart twisting differently, tensing differently.

Otherworldly.

“Gonna have to wait for the bird to want to fly back into the nest this time around after we angered the Travelers, huh?” Yeah, ‘pretty bird’ is probably Childe’s greatest stroke of playful genius, the name seems to suit you in every way he can think of.

His companion grumbles something under his breath before gracing him with an indignant response. “Do you best understand these delicate matters only in terms of the bloody hunter and frightful hunted?”

“You got me there, Zhongli.” With a wolfish grin, he grabs the bottle of baijiu and pours a drink for himself. Oh, how he misses Fire-Water… Soon, Childe reminds himself, soon. “You were right that day, you know. I don’t like losing control over what’s mine. We always tried to win some battle with each other, and we knew what we were doing, even when it was playing the Tsaritsa’s game. The amazing sex was just another aspect to our business relationship in finding the enemy’s weakness.”

Zhongli snorts into his cup. “Do you sleep with all of your business associates?”

“Fuck off, you know you wanted it too. But her? Not all the bargaining chips are on the table. She keeps it pretty close to the chest, and I try not to walk into enemy territory blind. Not always successful though, obviously.”

Zhongli hums along. “You can guess what my next moves are now that you understand who and what I am.”

“Yeah, and at least Aether and the stir-fry have the decency of telling me what’s going on in their head by being obnoxiously loud about it,” Childe grunts. “Not her, though. Not really. I don’t trust her ‘openness,’ nobody shows their emotions that easily. Even blondie and his pet gremlin try to hide some things, but I recognize the way she looks at them when they do a poor job. It’s how she looked at me when I tried to lie to Teucer.” Childe’s nose crinkles fondly at the memory of the loyal knight’s desperate attempts to protect his brother. “I’d say it’s a fair bet whether she would kiss me or kill me first and I wouldn’t be able to stop her. But hey, adds to the thrill of it all.”

“Your masochism will be the death of you one day. Do you have a single care for your well-being? Truly?” Zhongli’s deadpan words are purely rhetorical because they both know the answer.

“Hey! I listen to the doctor when I need to.”

“Mm, and do you pull rank on this Fatui doctor as well?”

“Well, who’s keeping track anyway?”

The god only smiles, affection radiating from his being. “My friend, I treasure our conversations. I will surely miss them.” Childe smiles and laughs with him. He feels good. Yeah. Zhongli makes him feel good. What he feels is thrilled, excited, electrified, but most importantly, genuinely welcomed.

(Welcomed, accepted, cared for. His heart lurches. No right word can describe this, describe how the strange not-humans from Teyvat and beyond took him in without question.)

He’ll miss this too, he concedes without a shred of shame, even if it’s a bittersweet feeling.

“Now then,” Zhongli coughs, before looking back up with the gall to appear sheepish. “About paying for our meal…”

“Oh, fuck you.”

 ---

 Childe’s knuckles rap against Zhongli’s door before pushing it open, pleased but not surprised as the door gives way without protest. He steps inside and removes his shoes by the doorway before padding down the hall, the smell of bamboo shoot soup permeating the hallways. When he enters the kitchen, he finds Zhongli sitting at the table with a bowl already in hand.

“Aw, you started without me?” Childe pouts but steps up to the table nonetheless. Zhongli huffs in amusement.

“I heard you walking up the steps and took the liberty of beginning.”

“Of course you did,” the other replies while rolling his eyes. They finish their meals in peace with little banter flowing between them. After all, both felt the weight of this last night together. As Childe gathers the dishes to place in the sink, he mulls over his own decision for coming over to the ex-Archon’s den. Lust pools in his gut and his selfish body wants to taste Zhongli’s skin one more time. That’s all it is. Pure lust.

As gloved hands slide around his waist, slow and easy, Zhongli perches his head on Childe’s shoulder and rumbles deeply, “Lost in thought, are we?”

He snorts and turns around, tugging the other closer so their hips are flush against each other. When he adjusts himself to a better position, innocent eyes blinking, Zhongli gasps as his own body bucks forward, looking for more friction. “Mm, just wondering what I’ll have to do to get you to show me your hoard, comrade.”

The other man grumbles, but it’s half-hearted and disguises the increases sounds of pleasure threatening to claw out of his throat. “O-Oh? And what makes you think this will aid your investigations?”

Childe flashes his teeth wickedly as he leans down to nip at the other’s ear, all gentle foreplay gone as he immediately bites hard enough to draw blood with his canines. Zhongli groans as he grabs the other’s shoulders, squeezing with force shy enough to break bone. “Don’t underestimate my tactics, comrade,” he purrs. Zhongli looks at him, eyes hooded and panting before he keens when Childe’s hand slides down to cup his half-hard bulge.

At the insistent whining, Childe leans forward and captures his lips, shoving the other forward and off of him. Zhongli grunts but follows his orders obediently as Childe maneuvers them to the bedroom before he sits down on the bed, yanking the former Archon by the tie to his knees. He falls and leans forward, begging for another kiss as his eyes keep staring at Childe’s plump lips. The man obliges and delights at the speed he’s given permission to explore. Fuck, who would’ve thought that Rex Lapis would be such a bitch when you kiss him right?

He pulls back and smirks at the shivering mess before him that shuffles forward to nudge Childe’s straining bulge and lick along the clothess concealing it. “Look at you,” Childe coos, “you’re so pathetic, you want my cock that badly, huh?”

“Y-yes,” Zhongli rasps and moans brokenly when Childe’s hands snake into his hair to pull him up off his knees slightly, his own hands grasping Childe’s thighs for purchase. When the Harbinger ups the ante by reaching his right hand down the other’s pants to grab his leaking cock, hard, Zhongli nearly shouts as his face twists in pleasure. “Please, Childe, more. I want more – “ His voice cuts off into another broken moan when Childe gives a few leisurely pumps, blue eyes watching the other wickedly.

“You want? Comrade, just what do you think an interrogation is? You don’t get to want anything,” he growls and retreats, suddenly letting go of the other. Zhongli’s eyes shoot open as he falls down again. Fuck, the way his chest heaves as his face is flushed with blatant desire threatens Childe’s composure. No, no, that won’t do, Zhongli doesn’t get to command him like this.

He curls his lips as his boot moves forward, gently rubbing at Zhongli’s erection. The sob that erupts is thrilling, and Childe’s lust-addled ego rears its ugly head when he notices the other gasping incoherent praises between breaths. “Please, please, please, do not tease me like this on your final night Childe, please. Forgive me, but I want your cock, I need it.”

Childe’s characteristic laugh bubbles forth as he clutches the other’s throat to silence him. “My, you’re agreeable like this. Did anybody ever tell you that you get to be so chatty when you want to be fucked? Pathetic,” he whispers, but a cruel pleasure unfurls as he watches Zhongli come undone with each degrading word. “You really like that, huh? Who else has talked down to the great Rex Lapis like this, hm? Answer me.”

“O-only you,” Zhongli gasps. “Only you.”

“Good.” Childe’s smile grows affectionate and he releases his grip before kissing the other again. It would be chaste if not for the insistent pawing at Zhongli’s clothes. “Strip for me.”

The god obeys, immediately tugging his own clothes off. Still, even in the throes of pleasure does he perform every action so meticulously, so carefully; he folds his clothes and places them on a nearby chair, and Childe’s heart flutters with fondness. Of course this stupid man would be so fussy during sex, of course. But that thought only sparks another – oh, by the Archons, he’s going to ruin this man and mark him for weeks after. Let’s see Zhongli deal with that problem.

Who even cares that the god can probably heal his wounds in minutes? If anything, that drives the warrior further in his madness to make the other bleed.

Zhongli stands before him, bare and glorious, his throbbing cock pink and leaking driblets of shimmering precum. He’ll never stop being hypnotizing with how the Geo energy refuses to be contained, permanently staining Zhongli’s arms with bronze and gold. All that power lurking beneath the surface…

Childe smirks and tugs off his gloves, tossing them to the side before he taps his thighs. “C’mere.” Zhongli submits – a little too eagerly, Childe thinks, where’s the fun in that – and straddles him again. When Childe’s right hand takes the other’s cock while he leans forward to begin teasing his nipples, Zhongli’s curls in on Childe and settles his head on the other’s shoulder, shivering with pleasure.

Childe nearly laughs when he realizes the image is not unlike a dragon coiling around its prey. Oh, but this one bites; the Harbinger’s teeth sink into Zhongli, drawing blood again. The wanton moan in response just sounds so delicious, and Childe matches his noises as he begins pumping in earnest. Zhongli’s begins grinding his ass into Childe’s bulge, and hey, that’s cheating. Childe is the one who’s doing the torturing here, damn it.

“Oh fuck,” Childe heaves, “I can’t take this anymore, fuck, where’s your oil Zhongli?”

Or not.

Yeah, okay, the man would be hot with embarrassment at how quickly he broke, but the way Zhongli croons and obeys just for him leaves him as desperate. When he rises to look for the oil, Childe stands quickly and begins stripping with the speed of a virgin teen about to get laid for the first time. A string of Snezhnayan curses is grumbled when his pants get caught on his ankles, but he when glances up at Zhongli’s chuckling with a fist curled in front of his grin, Childe only flushes further.

“Shut up,” he mumbles but grins along. Now free from his clothes, he grabs Zhongli’s wrist and tugs him back into the bed, kissing him all the while. The action is… Kind. Sweet, if Childe was being honest with himself.

But he hasn’t been truthful before, why start now?

When he leans back against the headboard and spreads his legs, Zhongli takes the cue to once again perch in his lap holding the bottle of oil in his hand. “Look at you,” Childe murmurs, pitch lowered but still rough around the edges, betraying a deeper hunger. “You look so good for me, presenting yourself like this.”

“What happened to the fearsome Harbinger just now?” Zhongli questions, mischief dancing on his face.

“Mm, good cop bad cop. Obviously being rough with the God of War wasn’t doing much ‘cept making me realize how badly I want to be inside you,” he states matter-of-factly before tugging Zhongli down for another kiss. When he takes the bottle and gently pries it open, he pours some on his fingers before placing the rest on the nightstand. Amber eyes watch Childe biting his lips, boyish eagerness shining forth.

Ah. Still so young, Zhongli thinks, and so cute.

That thought is interrupted when Childe leans forward and begins kissing along his abdomen, but characteristic of the Harbinger’s bloodlust, also peppers his skin with bruises and bite marks sharp enough to pierce the pleasurable haze in Zhongli’s mind. Cool fingers begin to gently prod between his cheeks, a silent question for permission which is quickly granted when his hands reach back to pull them apart for easier access. He feels Childe’s pleased groan beneath him as a single finger massages the muscle open before sliding in, and oh fuck, he missed this.

“H-haah, h-how are you always so tight?” Childe asks, taking his unoccupied hand to once again stroke Zhongli. He’s not entirely cruel, he’ll ease the other’s tension where he can. Whether or not it’s also out of selfish desire to see Zhongli unfurl around him, shoving his ass further on his fingers and into his palm is glaringly obvious when Childe bucks his erection up to graze briefly and intermittently between his toned cheeks.

“Are you complaining?” Zhongli moans.

“You kidding me?” Childe laughs and eases a second finger in, then a third. Now then, where is it…?

Zhongli suddenly cries out, vulgar sounds tapering off into quiet whimpers. There it is.

He begins massaging the spot and watches how Zhongli rolls his hips, the slight trail of drool and messy hair downright pornographic and mesmerizing. When his ass brushes against Childe’s cock again, he moves forward to nip at the god’s hip. “Z-zhongli, be careful there or I’m not gonna last.”

“I would ra-aahh-ther you finish in me, Childe,” the other rumbles, “before you ruin my bedsheets again.”

“Gods damn it, that was one time, you will not let that shit go,” Childe complains, completely uncouth and disrespectful, before withdrawing his fingers. “You’re lucky you’re good at sex.”

When his grabs the bottle again to pour it on his own straining member, the cool sensation welcome against his throbbing heat, he hears Zhongli chuckle above him. “Is that all I am to you? A nighttime tryst?”

“Don’t say that like you don’t enjoy it,” he mumbles, grabbing himself to line it up with Zhongli’s entrance. When the other slowly lower his hips, they both groan as the head begins to breach. It’s not fair, it’s not fair at all that Childe can’t stay mad at Zhongli like this. Not when the other swallows his dick like an animal in heat.

He moans openly when Zhongli finally meets him at his base, and he gives an experimental hip-roll to the god’s delight. Zhongli’s breath shudders before he starts a steady pace, switching between rolling his hips and lifting them to slam back down. Childe chokes on his breath and digs his head into the pillows beneath him at the sensation of being used like a fuck-toy for the ancient god. When blue eyes watch the Archon, muscles flexing in a downright filthy display of power, he’s awestruck. Zhongli is almost, almost treating his cock as another thing to conquer with the way he’s being manhandled like all attempts at domination earlier were just jokes.

He’s not giving up that easily. Childe’s fingers dig into the other’s hips to urge him to stop, bruising grip going nearly unnoticed. “Z-zhongli,” his strangled voice calls, “Flip over.”

When he slides his hands higher on the god’s hips and begins lifting his own body, Zhongli follows his lead. Before long, he’s flipped on his back with Childe looming over him, immediately catching his lips in another kiss as the Harbinger slowly pulls back before putting all his honed power in the movement back in. Zhongli breaks the kiss to groan and bares his throat in a show of submission, allowing the mortal to mark the god with fervor. Childe laps up the salt pooling along his skin with due diligence, nipping haphazardly along the way.

His thrusts begin to angle, looking for that tender spot once again. It’s no surprise how the ruthless Harbinger finds it with lethal precision and begins slamming into him earnestly. Fuck, his hips stutter and grow frantic when he’s rewarded with Zhongli’s increasingly loud cries, how does someone so composed sound downright filthy like that? Zhongli has no right, no right at all. When he feels nails drag down his back to draw forth sticky warmth, he retaliates by leaning forward and fiercely biting. His moans mingle with Zhongli’s as blood pours into his mouth, lust tearing through him, urging him to lacerate and mutilate this god further. Is it possible for a god’s body to be such an aphrodisiac?

Electric pleasure begins creeping forward; he’s losing his mind, Zhongli is coaxing out atrocious amounts of gratification and raw, unapologetic gluttony. More, he wants more.

Childe’s nose is flooded with warm mountain air, the musk inhuman but comforting, nonetheless. It’s enough to ease the abyssal beast inside of him but leaves the man in him wanting as he looks for any skin left unmarked to ruin. Much to his satisfaction, there is little left.

He releases his jaws when he feels a slight tugging on his hair, so he pulls back and – oh no. Oh, no no, that something grows in his heart again when he sees amber eyes gazing at him lovingly. “Childe,” Zhongli murmurs softly, “Let me see you, let me see your eyes.”

His responding laugh sound fake, even to him, as the sudden anxiety pushes aside the passion. If Zhongli notices how his thrusts begin speeding up, chasing that elusive and traitorous pleasure to mask it, he doesn’t comment. Instead, callous hands cup Childe’s cheeks and urge him to look deeply. “Please, a-allow – haah - me to commit you to… to memory.”

“W-what the fuck are you talking about?” he stutters, swallowing thickly around a sudden lump. Stop it. Stop being so sensual, stop it, stop being so sentimental you naïve and old creature, stop it –

Zhongli only smiles, lips wrapping around the soft sounds and purrs coming from deep within his chest. Luminous eyes are watching him, studying him, and he grows hateful at how Zhongli seems to just know. “I y-yearn to remember, please, allow me this. You are beautiful like this.”

“Shut up,” Childe suddenly snarls, leaning forward to hide his face in Zhongli’s shoulder. The other’s noises intensify in response, seemingly in an attempt to soothe him, and he hates it. “S-shut the fuck up, don’t make this something it isn’t, d-don’t do this to me Zhongli. Stop be-iiihng, ah, so cruel, you liar, we agr-eed to stop fucking lying to each other.”

Zhongli turns his head to kiss along Childe’s jaw, each one leaving behind hidden messages of longing and affection. “We did.”

Damn him, Ajax thinks as he desperately turns his head to meet Zhongli’s to kiss again, and again, and again.

It’s no surprise that soon, his hips’ rhythm falters before he slams one more time into Zhongli, that familiar heat in his core spilling deep in the other. Zhongli moans and flutters his eyes shut, relishing in the feeling pooling in his gut.

Ajax is not cruel. He rolls his hips and reaches one hand down to grab Zhongli’s still-aching cock, drawing forth more pleasure from the former Archon with an unforgiving speed. Soon, his breath is drawn, and he shudders as his cum shoots across his belly and into the Harbinger’s hand. Ajax is not cruel.

Damn him, he thinks again as he kisses Zhongli, but there’s no more malice, no more pretenses or attempts to hide his endearment for the older man. When he pulls back, Zhongli’s eyes glow softly in time with the markings along his arms. It’s indescribable, Childe thinks, how the light dances across the obsidian bedsheets and shimmers back, reflecting the riches of Teyvat in his blood. Before he can stop it, a single word tumbles out: “Beautiful.”

Zhongli smiles and pulls him down for another kiss.

And another, again and again and again.

 ---

 (Don’t let them see you bleed, don’t let them see you bleed, don’t let - )

 ---

 The two men hold each other, and though neither say a word, the silence before them is comfortable. How many rounds did they go for? Childe is twirling Zhongli’s hair around his fingers while the latter’s eyes are closed, but his breathing is too shallow to be asleep. Exhaustion clearly is not an issue for immortals.

Hm. His dark hair is silky and fine, maybe he can…? Childe glances at the not-sleeping man in front of him and a mischievous smile twists his lips, all attempts to suppress it gone. Not like he’s going to get another shot at this anytime soon. Deftly, his fingers begin to braid Zhongli’s hair in patterns he remembers the women in Snezhnaya wearing.

Only, when he looks at Zhongli again, golden eyes stare back, torn between being unimpressed and blatantly amused. Childe laughs and grabs the other’s chin to give a quick peck. “Aw, don’t look at me like that comrade, I just think you would enjoy this more than bed head.” It’s an excuse because Zhongli always looks perfect, but let him just have this.

“Mm.” A deep exhale breezes across Childe’s chest, and lust sparks in his gut once again at the cool sensation tickling his open wounds from when Zhongli took his turn hammering into Childe, spearing him open unforgivingly. Some minutes pass, and – yeah, no, braiding isn’t his thing Childe decides. The braid is unorganized, hair falls out, and he’s pretty sure he accidentally tangled it somewhere. Zhongli chuckles and buries his head further against Childe’s neck. “You would make a fine weaver.”

“Asshole.”

They both smile, but when Zhongli looks to the other again, he knows there’s a question forming. He just knows it, but seeing those swollen and kissable lips bruised and knowing that he did that? Childe’s dick twitches traitorously, ready to go again.

“Childe, are you listening?” Zhongli frowns and Childe blinks, attempting to be coquettish. The other’s frown deepens.

“Sorry, sorry,” he grins. “What was that?”

“I asked if you believe in the red thread?”

Childe’s hands stop, and not for the first time, he wonders why the hell Liyue is so obsessed with the concept of destiny. He scoffs, mouth twisting and nose curling up. “Nah, I don’t. It’s a cute gesture ‘n all, but if you look closely, there’s a reason for everything, and it isn’t because Celestia or whatever decided it.”

“Do you say this because you did not have control over what happened to Liyue?”

At Zhongli’s inquisitive look, he holds up the mess of a braid he was trying to rectify. “You see this? This is the red thread. It’s messy. It’s artificial. There’s no such thing as destiny, Zhongli, everything happens deliberately, by us,” he huffs, irritated by the question. Childe was just trying to have a relaxing time, why did he have to bring that up now? The former Archon’s radiant eyes glow brighter, an impassive wall for the other to beat against. Somehow, though, that placid expression irks Tartaglia further and the words fall out before he can stop them.

“You think it’s destiny that I was maneuvered like that? That I began serving Her Imperial Majesty the Tsaritsa? That I fe-“ Tartaglia, thankfully, has enough wherewithal to pause that statement before too much is revealed and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath to center himself. “No, Zhongli, I do everything for a reason. Everything. My path is my own, all the titles and reputations and connections I possess were bargained for fairly. I dragged myself out of that cold and dark land by my own will.”

Zhongli knows he isn’t speaking of Snezhnaya, but says nothing regardless.

“I thought you of all people would understand that,” he spits, sudden cynicism surging through him like a tidal wave. “How many people have you controlled over the years? Pawns moved, strategic opportunities seized? You should know that nothing happens by coincidence, someone as old as you.”

A roaring tempest, changing and harsh and untamable, crashes against the rocky mountain that stands tall and firm at the center of the chaos.

Zhongli’s lips curve as he admits, “I do. Perhaps you and I have a different understanding of the concept of coincidence, then, though I do not disagree with what you say.”

“Did you not say that actions and emotions must be separate?” he replies, wry smirk back in place. He doesn’t miss the flicker of sentiment, and if he didn’t know the stone-cold god any better, he would be tempted to label it as almost melancholic. What was Zhongli thinking?

Childe sighs, all fight in him about this topic abruptly gone. Truly unpredictable. “Two sides of the same coin, huh?” he murmurs. “Let’s just… Not talk about that. Not on my last night.” He instead descends to capture the other’s lips in a vicious kiss, clearly an attempt to redirect his frustrations elsewhere.

Zhongli returns it with equal fervor and two pairs of hands grapple each other in possessive movements. They’ve long ago decided to be truthful with each other, and this is the most open they can be, unspoken words and feelings conveyed through touch.

When they break apart, Tartaglia’s ocean eyes hide how far below the boy in him is confined to the murky depths. As he nips at Zhongli’s throat, the god can’t help but wonder of their varying approaches to this concept of control. Tartaglia moves with aggression, uses his body as a weapon to get what he needs, to distance his emotions and thoughts further from the surface; Zhongli attempts to convey his desires and willingness to plunge into those watery depths, to drag him back through his own.

Zhongli won’t deny that their arrangement started as him humoring Childe’s lust, of allowing the other to believe in the lie that he had the upper hand all along, but the god has since grown genuinely fond of the tempestuous being.

However, Tartaglia only sees their passions as another battle to be won and the old God of War indulges him. If Tartaglia chooses to classify their relationship and letters as platonic, then so be it.

But… Is the Harbinger truly so far gone that he does not understand Zhongli’s blatant desire for him? How quickly did the young man latch onto this desperate understanding that their passionate actions are separate from the relationship they have built? What war is he fighting?

What happened to him to make him believe he could only rely on himself?

Zhongli hums. No matter.

The dragon already decided long ago that Childe is a treasure worth coveting, and hopes that one day, he will understand that Zhongli’s desires are not superficial. He has all the time in the world to find a love language that Childe will understand.

In due time, he intends to help raise the man above the Archons who dared to use him, dared to take away control over his hard-won destiny, dared to treat his mortal kin as worthless compared to the boy they raised.

In due time.

 ---

 Ajax did not want to think about his carefully guarded feelings nor talk about it that night, lest Morax see him for how selfish and hungry his heart is. It is no secret how he lusts after power, and that night in the Golden House sparked a ravenous flame. Even if he could only convince one of the immortals to join him, it would be enough to challenge the rest of the Harbingers and begin his own conquest.

However, during his stay in Liyue, he could only ease his treacherous heart with one who surely saw mortal hearts as tradeable as gold. His own aches in resignation.

Is it because he is afraid of his own weakness? Or because he knows that when destiny pushes him back into that abyss a second time, it will be final and alone?

Don’t let them see you bleed.

Ajax trusts Morax with his life (strangely enough), but not with his soul. Not now. He wonders if you would be gentler. Kinder.

But a bird cannot survive a hurricane.

 ---

 (The stars whisper fearful warnings that night - incessant in their dulcet tunes – hoping to shepherd these souls once more.

Nobody hears them. They have been absent from their duty too long. Nobody remembers.)

 ---

 On the boat back to Snezhnaya, the Harbinger is leaning over the railing, twisting the ring around his finger in thought. A small smile graces his lips as he thinks of the last conversation he shared with you, of the promises of a rematch.

Cute. That’s all he thinks – fluffy, unreasonably angry, cute, so insistent on chirping and proving yourself a fierce opponent. No, you are formidable as he remembers his ass being beaten to the ground without mercy. A thrill shoots up his spine at the memory and his tender smile turns wicked. Formidable and sexy he declares with Her Imperial Majesty as his witness.

Maybe Zhongli was right, there must be something fucked up in his head for him to still think you’re cute as he nurses his wounds from the Golden House and the Teucer fiasco.

Chlide beams, completely enamored with the open ocean and its bare surface; the bright and open sun shimmers across the waves as tempting as jewels for the taking. One day, he wants to take his siblings out to the coasts beyond Snezhnaya’s eternally frozen waters where icebergs leave few paths for the boats to navigate. Though he’ll never admit it to the other Fatui, he always preferred the freedom to go wherever and do whatever he pleased.

Well, let’s be more honest here, it’s more or less already an open secret. After all, that’s why he’s the Vanguard of the Harbingers. Tartaglia is sent to be the first storm that wreaks havoc and flood enemy defenses while the others clean it up and claim credit.

Childe sneers because fuck Signora, that glory was supposed to be his.

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair, but pauses midway before lowering it and clenching the railing harder. Memories flood his vision as he remembers watching how you would rub your head whenever you were nervous, would brush Paimon’s hair and coo at its ephemeral patterns, would help Aether re-braid his after a particularly messy fight. During his stay at Liyue, he somehow picked up the tick himself after spending so much time watching you to try and find your own quirks in character. Chlide never intended to punch a hole in his own carefully guarded defenses.

So… Why did you reveal yourself like that? Childe mulls his options over. Either you weren’t aware of your actions - which is not possible, not with the way you move during battle – or you let him see to throw him off your trail, letting him think he figured you out. Hm. But that’s something Zhongli would do. Did.

Asshole, he thinks fondly.

Maybe you just… Maybe you’re just that open? Let your guard down around him because of – because of –

He closes his eyes, stifling that inkling of something again from creeping its way into his traitorous heart. Childe snorts, sardonic nature taking over because yeah right, like you would really let him in so easily. But then he sees it, sees how the blue glimmers with the light like stars.

If you trusted him because of a starconch, then you really were as stupid as he was afraid of.

And, well, maybe he is too.

How many stories did you exchange over warms meals and long nights? In all those little tales he shared, he showed a bit more of himself. After all, the best lies have truth in them; Zhongli knew this and reciprocated the efforts. In a way, that’s why he trusts Zhongli more – the former Archon already manipulated him and proved his suspicions right. Now that the betrayal has been seared into his memoirs, he understands all the more the man’s motivations, making him an easy target for Childe to predict next they meet.

His heart remembers the unexpected connection he made with Aether – the sacrifices for one’s family rings universal. It’s only when Teucer found his way into Liyue – the little devil – that he realized that somehow, along the way, it was Ajax that was laughing, Ajax that was helping Aether find Lumine, Ajax paying for Paimon’s egregious eating habits.

Childe’s thoughts loop endlessly as he tries convincing himself his mind is only consumed by you three (or one) because he can’t figure you out. You’re an eternal mystery and challenge, how could he resist?

He’s stirred when he hears the Fatui recruits call for him below deck and Childe’s easy nature slides back in. He promised them a proper Sneznhayan drinking game; it’s time to show these fresh-faced bumpkins what being a Harbinger is all about.

 ---

 (Ajax did not see how Morax gazes at him, ferocious and protective. Only one mortal’s heart will remain immeasurable and incomparable to Teyvat’s riches, the scales will never be balanced.

Nor did Ajax witness the stars streak across the sky for him, incandescent and besotted, a promise of other immortals who would faithfully carry him to the heavens if he but asked.

A mountain of bodies filles his vision as he seeks to build a paradise above the carnage for his family’s dreams to be safe, so that they may never know what nightmare lies beneath the world.

He made a promise, after all.)

 ---

  My dear Childe,

I suppose I am able to write the first of our agreed upon letters, as I am the one left behind with the luxury of free time while you journey to your own homeland.

Please note that, attached to the letter, are packages of various Liyue sweets that I am sure youth enjoy. Hu Tao has at least assured me of its quality. If your kin are anything like you, these will serve in sufficiently whetting their voracious appetites.

Also included are some artifacts that, I pray, will find a new home in Snezhnaya. Hopefully your siblings are as curious as you. Certainly, you can tickle Teucer’s desires for grand anecdotes with the enclosed miniature terracotta warrior. They once stood as guardians to tombs of emperors long past. Perhaps he can become a paragon of honor once more as sentinel to Mr. Cyclops.

Just be sure to not allow the statue to break. I must warn you that it contains a very real spirit. Children enjoy this sort of thing, yes?

I am glad we can remain in contact. I cannot begin to repay your kindness and generosity in this lifetime for treating me as a mortal; I never sought the continuation of Rex Lapis’ legacy in my assessments of Liyue. Instead, I find that having good company to walk with is enough.

I pray that your duty does not come into conflict with the Travelers. They have asked me to inform you that they will not attempt to establish contact, for they fear their own journeys will eventually threaten Her Majesty the Tsaritsa. They do not wish to endanger you or your family.

No one is at fault for attempting to complete their mission, but let it not distract you from why – and for  who - you fight. As you described to me, baseless glory for the sake of it is no way to conduct oneself as a true warrior.

Do not be afraid to be the first to step on the path into unknown territory. Believe me, time waits for no one.

Your dutiful friend,

Zhongli

 ---

  My dearest and most lively funeral consultant,

Don’t worry about my wellbeing; as I have said on our last night together, my destiny is my own. Her Majesty the Tsaritsa will have her seven stars, as I’ve promised, but they are not my stars nor my true goals. I believe you are right – I will have to venture into that dark night if I am to find what I truly seek.

I am pleased to report that Teucer is now sleeping with your protective clay warrior after naming him, aptly, ‘Mr. Dirty’ for the incessant mess that the dusty old thing seems to leave. My mother has certainly thrown a fit more than once for the dirt it leaves in his bed. Whether you have blessed this little thing with one of your tricks to always produce earth is a cheeky mystery I am sure you will never answer.

Zhongli, my friend, we must really educate you on what is and is not appropriate to gift a young child. I did not explain to him – nor my family, for that matter – why I insisted on wrapping Mr. Dirty in a very cushioned blanket.

Furthermore, Hu Tao was right, the candies were a roaring success. Quite literally, I might add, as my siblings tore at them with the ferocity of Snezhnayan wolves and howling battle cries.

I wonder who would win in a fight for the last sticky honey roast: my siblings or Paimon.

I understand fully their reasons and don’t fault them for it. If anything, they conduct themselves with greater care than I ever did in Liyue. Regardless, I will miss them dearly and hope that when we meet again in Snezhnaya, it is not for Her Majesty the Tsaritsa, but for myself. I did promise my honor as Harbinger to be the prize won.

With the letter is a package of a hand-crafted Matryoshka doll. I had asked for the crafter to paint each layer as different armor from Liyue’s history. However, at the center, you will find a doll with intimately familiar amber eyes.

This is, I hope, a suitable gift. To me, you will always be Zhongli first and foremost at your core.

You still owe me a fight for the right to reassert your divine status to me and rectify the slight against my character. Otherwise, you will find my insolence to become tenfold. I just hope you defend your honor before your short guard dog, Xiao, does it for you.

Your loyal companion,

Childe

   ---

 Ajax walks along the beaches outside of his village. He’s been home for a few weeks on leave, much to the delight of his family; he welcomes their affection and returns in kind, even if when he embraces his father, he feels emptier after he pulls away. It’s funny. Growing up, Ajax adored his father’s stories of adventures. They seemed so thrilling and freeing, especially to travel the world outside of Morepesok.

Only, whenever he comes home, a bit more of his father’s image is broken away like ice. That’s all they were: stories. The Harbinger has massacred battlefields, left just enough in his wake that would churn most men’s stomachs as a brutal reminder for defying the Fatui. No, those stories are nothing to him now.

He keeps walking, stopping only to kick away some snow from his path. Ajax missed this; he’ll admit it. Too many times has he spent an extended period on Dragonspine to let the cold freeze him just to the brink of death, reminding him of Snezhnaya. Such a ruthless landscape to birth a ruthless warrior. As much as he adores travelling, home is where he’ll always return to, where he misses most when he reads each letter gracing his desk.

Ajax spots a shining object and immediately bends to reach it, but pulls away with only a blue stone and faint silver markings.

Not a starconch. Huh. His instincts must be slow for him to make such a rookie mistake.

As he tosses the rock over his shoulder, Ajax’s lips pull into a frown. Home is where the heart is.

So why does he feel empty?

 ---

 Ajax looks out the window of his home as Tonia, Anthon and Teucer snore peacefully in his lap. They’re in front of the roaring fireplace and a thick blanket is wrapped around them all.

He very pointedly ignores the sharp Mr. Dirty digging into his side, and just… Why, Zhongli, why are you so stupid sometimes. Ah well, it made Teucer happy, so Ajax relents in his complaints for the time being.

Outside his window, he watches a family of snowy owls as they emerge from their nest. Some time passes before the youngest brave the howling winds, opening their wings to test the currents.

In a heart-stopping moment, all the children leap and exit his field of vision before quickly rising again, thriving in the winds of change. He watches as they flap their wings experimentally, fluttering around the tree before the family gathers itself. They eventually leave, heading to horizons unknown to explore as they flee the coming darkness of winter for their own safety. Despite this, the owls will return home when the chaos settles, they always do.

A stray thought springs into Ajax’s head as he looks down at his siblings.

   ---

 When Tartaglia saunters up the alabaster steps to Zaplorny Palace, he remembers how awe-struck he was as a child listening to his father’s speak about the Tsaritsa residing within. Frost paints ethereal patterns into the decorations, constantly changing as it’s melted and regrown. The shimmering patterns no doubt rival the beauty of the skies, but also mirror them in the way that the stars are so far and cold themselves. No matter how many flames are lit, Zapolyarny Palace will always remain cold.

He wonders if the Tsasritsa’s frozen heart still has a flicker of warmth.

Before he turns down the next hallway, he is met with the sight of three other Harbingers. Oh boy, what a fucking party. “Ah! Forgive me comrade!” Childe chuckles as he shoves past Scaramouche’s shoulders to join them. “I didn’t see you down there,” he sneers, relishing in the murderous glance tossed his way.

“Childe. For how long you spent in Liyue, one would expect you to have learned some respect by now. I suppose it’s too much to ask for from someone of your limited faculties,” Scaramouche responds, tone light and casual but eyes burning regardless.

“Was your leave rejuvenating?” Pulcinella interjects, hoping to steer the conversation away from a brawl starting in the palace. Not that they have any doubts over Scaramouche’s self-discipline, but Childe’s was another matter entirely. “Signora here has informed me of your recent success in heralding the Gnosis from Morax. Congratulations.”

Childe raises one eyebrow, eyes dull and heavily guarded. He’s familiar with these political tactics and with how the Harbingers lace their words with patronizing intent. It’s all some bid to try to put others down, remind them of their place. What a bunch of idiots, don’t they know he only cares about what the Tsaritsa thinks?

As if reading his mind, Signora’s lips quirk upwards as she slithers in to join Pulcinella’s compliments. “Indeed. I have informed Her Majesty the Tsaritsa of your valiant efforts. This couldn’t have been done without you.”

Without your brash and impulsive tendencies.

“You know…” Scaramouche starts, crossing his arms and tilting his head back in a show of friendly submission. What the fuck is he up to now? “Some time ago, when I was in Mondstadt investigating the Jester’s little mission for me, I saw the Travelers again. They certainly grew more adept in commanding the elements, wouldn’t you say, Childe?”

The ginger-haired man’s airy laugh rings off the walls around them, the easy-going nature of Childe stepping forth before Tartaglia has a chance to strangle him. “Oh yes, I would certainly agree. Makes it all the more exciting to see what they’ll be up to next. Let me guess, you had a hard time dealing with them? I too heard the reports, dear Balladeer, of how they kept dancing just outside of your short reach.”

Pulcinella bites the inside of their cheek to keep the amusement from showing. Somehow, their favored recruit always finds a way to piss off the other Harbingers like it’s all some game. Really gives a good show too.

Scaramouche scoffs, allowing the jab to slide this time. “I let the fools go. My research was complete, I didn’t linger. But I did notice something… Interesting.” He raises his left hand casually, motioning his fingers in a light pinching motion as if he held something small and precious. “A single starconch hung from one of the Traveler’s journals. A rather curious sight.”

Childe’s smile grows wider, more placid. The lack of an aggressive reaction is, in itself, a threat. “Curious indeed.”

“Scaramouche, wouldn’t you say that was a stroke of genius on Childe’s part? He’s keeping them close and relaxed. I’m rather proud of you for employing our more covert tactics for once. That is, after all, your intent, is it not?” Signora smirks when she sees how Childe’s eyes flick to hers. Still no change in his expression, but he laughs and holds up both hands in a placating gesture. As much as she plays at knowing his tactics, it’s not very hard to guess where his chaotic actions will lead him. However, the motivations behind his more subtle behaviors remain elusive wherein only two can guess it correctly at any given moment: Pulcinella and Her Majesty the Tsaritsa herself.

“You got me. They’re just so eager to help others, how could I resist that temptation of fucking with them?” Childe’s whimsical tone never wavers, not once. Pulcinella frowns. This is a dangerous game; they always caution against becoming attached to the unhinged Harbinger, but if the Travelers became strung along too much, then…

“Careful, Tartaglia,” Pulcinella murmurs, drawing all eyes on them. “Since your little betrayal of their trust, the Liyue agents report that our Fatui strongholds in the wild have steadily lost their footing. For every inch we gain, we lose two more.”

Childe pretends to look shocked, but he has his own ears inside the palace, he’s been aware of it the whole time. Little birds, he thinks affectionately, I’m nearly proud.

“Hmph, of course the idiots keep losing ground, they have no Harbinger guiding them,” Scaramouche says, frown deepening. “Even with Signora in Mondstadt, the diplomats were frankly imbeciles.” She tsks in irritation, but nothing more.

“Aw, if I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you were complimenting me, comrade!” Childe says cheerfully. The Inazuma native’s face flashes with fury before quickly recovering.

“All I’m saying is that maybe we need someone to keep an eye on them,” he replies. “Since Mondstadt… They’re not what you think, Childe. The stars are a lie; none of it is real. I’ll bet you the Travelers know more about it than they’re letting on. Don’t make the same mistake twice.”

Childe cocks an eyebrow, smirk barely melting into a snarl. “And what would you know? You stay behind the scenes while the rest of us do real work.”

Scaramouche’s slow smile is poisonous and laced with contempt as he hisses, “You should know there is a Liyue saying that goes ‘Heaven and Earth are impartial, treating all creatures like straw dogs.’ When the sacrifices have fulfilled their purpose, they are discarded because there is no more use and care for such worthless objects. Didn’t dear Morax tell you of this philosophy himself, Childe?”

Tartaglia tastes blood as he bites his tongue to keep from summoning a blade then and there.

Pulcinella not-so-subtly coughs. “I believe our meeting is starting soon. Let us take this discussion there, for Her Majesty the Tsaritsa is currently informed of all developments. We will receive our next assignments there.”

As all four Harbingers walk in silence down the halls, Childe lingers in the back so that the other three don’t catch sight of his eyes darkening. He was right, damn it, the Travelers are hiding something.

However, a sadistic smile curls on his face. Though he’s sure that the others allowed Scaramouche to hint at what is surely classified information that currently only he, the Jester, and the Tsaritsa know the full scope of just to allow the shorter Harbinger to insult Childe, he enjoys the fact that the others once again underestimate him. They were likely not informed of Scaramouche’s findings either and this provided an apt opportunity for them to update their intel if their unashamedly curious expressions were anything to go by. Scaramouche’s lightning temper strikes again and illuminates the path forward, even if Childe had to bleed first to see it.

Oh what fun, fun, fun!

 ---

 The Tsaritsa’s cold gaze peers down at Tartaglia as he kneels before her, not even daring to gaze at her feet. With the other Harbingers long-departed after the meeting, the only two remaining souls in her throne room are himself and the Cryo Archon; for anyone else, this would strike fear in their heart, but Tartaglia only croons at the thought. Finally, finally, she trusts him with a classified mission, one that she fears the other Harbingers might impede on should they discover the true intention.

He buries Scaramouche’s words deep below the surface, unwilling to allow his goddess to witness his burning desire to prove himself. For now, Childe will serve dutifully until the opportunity for him to topple the Archons’ thrones presents itself.

Littered around them are the eternally frozen bodies of all who made the mistake of striking too soon, their faces warped in perpetual agony as sick trophies. Are they still alive beneath that ice, like the creatures trapped atop Dragonspine?

“Tartaglia,” she starts, regal voice cutting clear through the air, “the Travelers defy the laws of this world and harness its ancient secrets with ease, something the other Harbingers have failed to provide me concrete information on. However, I understand that you have observed these phenomena yourself. Am I correct?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” comes the smooth reply, steady and betraying no weakness.

“Good,” he hears the pleased smile in her voice. “I have a new task for you.”

 ---

  Dreams do not normally come, smothered by the abyss. But something is different this time. Ajax hears it.

A voice calls to him in a language that sounds of silvery bells. Another speaks in a tongue long forgotten by mortals.

-

notes:

childe’s pov has a lot of swearing (and will in future chapter) bc lets be honest, he probably would if mihoyo would let him

1) Childe flips masks depending on who he's with according to mihoyo's official forum thread on him. Pulcinella is quoted as stating that Childe is completely trustworthy for any job, but cautions against getting too attached/close (for unknown reasons)

2) One of Childe's voice lines expresses admiration for the Tsaritsa's warrior methods, but in another line, has massive disdain for the underhanded tactics of others. He also blatantly admits to being willing to take on the other Harbingers and overthrow the world with the Traveler if the opportunity presents itself, and doesn't care at all for their opinions on him

3) The terracotta soldier is referencing the Terracotta Army guarding the tomb of Qin Shi Huang, the first emperor of China and Matryoshka dolls have multiple dolls inside one.

4) The Liyue philosophy quoted is a sentiment expressed in Chapter 5 of the Tao Te Ching that basically translates as Heaven treating all the people equally, neither with love nor hate aka nobody is special. It is what it is ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

5) Childe 100% spent so much time on Dragonspine with the video from yesterday (April 4th) from mihoyo featuring him walking around missing Snezhnaya

6) The multiple frozen statues are a ref to the White Witch from the Narnia series where she froze all her enemies and kept them in a room to look at. Yeesh.

7) and FINALLY (TL;DR at the bottom of this bullet point) (I wrote this chapter before “We Will Be Reunited” quest)

Scaramouche's line of "the stars are a lie" are a direct quote from the Unreconciled Stars event. A lot of veterans of mihoyo games think this references the theory that Teyvat is actually a bubble world either as a part of the Seeds of Sumeru (name also one of the regions in Teyvat) universe from Honkai Impact 3, a sci-fi game, or is just another world in the Imaginary Tree of mihoyo's overarching lore (aka multiverse). The symbol for the abyss and celestia being a tree support this too, plus the mythos of Gnosticism says that a rival divine made a false world to mirror the "true" divine (abyss/celestia?) with Archons ruling over 7 planets.

This is further confirmed in a dev video where one of the characters from HI3 is seen watching Dvalin on a computer screen, stating that Genshin exists parallel to HI3 and has the same rules where if mankind progresses too fast or too far, these beings called Honkai come and wipe them out to restart. Since I PERSONALLY would feel extremely discouraged if Genshin turns into something too sci-fi (takes away from the fantasy appeal imo), I'm taking this to mean that the MC travels multiple worlds exploring while the unknown god is stopping mankind from being too arrogant. The Archons know things about Celestia most don't (maybe why the Tsaritsa wants to rebel), and the MC's twin joined the abyss separately after seeing the cataclysm 500 years ago to probably help the abyss.

The abyss order are all but explicitly confirmed to be the fallen Khaenri'ah turned monsters and the advanced technology we see everywhere with the power to end civilization also belonged to them, if Kaeya's voice lines and item descriptions anything to go by. They used the abyss as a power source "away from the eyes of the gods" that is parallel to Celestia's power. Celestia is preventing any more disruptions to the great cycle by controlling mortals (one piece of lore on the wiki's timeline page directly describes how they used to walk among the earliest human ancestors in Tevyat long before even the gods we know today were born, but mortals are not meant to know that Teyvat's history is cyclical, starting and ending multiple times). I don't think the MC is aware of the fake stars because they're canonically just as confused as Paimon when Scaramouche says that the sky is a hoax. I'm taking my own twist on this for the fanfic with stars being "sentient" or artificially placed (maybe by Celestia?) since the meteorites that fell were someone's old constellation. There are separate stars that follow and affect the Travelers/worlds.

TL;DR: The stars in Teyvat are artificial but the MC canonically didn't know this, the unknown god is trying to prevent uprisings, mortals want to control the heavens instead, the abyss and celestia mirror Gnostic mythos about two divines and 7 Archons, and for the purposes of this fanfic the stars are both separate from and connected to the Travelers.

[pascalls]

Blinding Lights

Charlie finds solace in a familiar face after a run-in with Lovejoy.

I WANTED TO WRITE SOME CHARLIE x SAM ROMANCE SO HERE YOU GO.

Music: Blinding Lights - The Weeknd

For once, the anticipation that had settled in his clawed toes was not unpleasant.

It had been about three weeks since he’d last seen his… friend. Sam had ventured off on one of his lengthy hauls and Charlie was left to try making conversation with Larry whenever he stopped by Moe’s after work. The man was not the best conversationalist. Even less so than Sam. But it was, at least, company. Even if the late nights were earning him some ire whenever he made an attempt to return to the Lovejoy’s. Which he was beginning to fret about, whenever it came time to do so. Helen had been suspicious, as of late, wandering down into the basement at inopportune times and forcing the hybrid to take cover behind some piece of furniture or clamber out the window before he could be spotted.

Helen was clever. It wouldn’t take her very long to figure out what was going on, if he wasn’t cautious.

So he spent more time away, taking advantage of Moe’s cranky brand of hospitality and crashing in the man’s bed alongside him on more than one occasion. Regrettably, the paychecks that were coming from the school were still not enough for him to find his own place. But it was enough to make sure that he could get food regularly and the occasional small trinket or gift for Connor when he was able to see his son.

It was an improvement.

The muggy late-Spring air signified that they were certainly in for some heat in the upcoming summer season. Despite the slight slick of sweat that had coated his back as he strolled down the sidewalk, he didn’t allow the humidity to dampen his spirits. A busy day at the school - there had been an unfortunate incident where several gym students ran headlong into some cacti that Willie had forgotten to remove before the class encountered it - had meant that he was looking forward to meeting Sam in the evening to unwind.

Since the fall, where Charlie had allowed a bit of drunken boldness to make a move on the older man - one that he hadn’t been sure would be reciprocated - the two spent quite a bit of time together. It was a pleasant contrast to the nearly constant paranoia that he dealt with when he spent any modicum of time with the reverend. Something internal told him that this was a good thing, but he did his best not to get too carried away. Even if he and Sam had shared a few more… intimate moments, he was loathe to get so comfortable that he expected it as a default of their ‘relationship’. Whatever that relationship was. It had not been so neatly defined thus far. Part of him was okay with that - it meant that perhaps he was not in so deep that he could make a drastic mistake. But the other part of him… Well. He was desperate, deep down, for some solid footing.

Luckily, he was patient.

As he watched the sun begin to dip beyond the horizon, Charlie made his way towards the depot where he knew Sam left his truck. At times, the man would opt to sleep in the cab instead of actually trying to get back to his home. And Charlie didn’t mind that so much. There was something homey and comforting about that tiny bedroom where they didn’t have much of a choice but to press into each other’s personal space. It made for a good wingman… on more than one occasion. But his desires were not always so lecherous, he reminded himself. Today, he just wanted to bring his friend a hot meal that he’d picked up on the way - some teriyaki chicken and chow mein, along with a few cans of Duff - and make up for the lost time. Sam had confided into his more than once that life on the road was a bit dull and dreary. Returning to Springfield was generally the highlight. Charlie had agreed, but did his best to not be… so blatantly enthusiastic about it.

Tugging uncomfortably at his mask, he eagerly picked up the pace. Sam had told him that he’d be back by seven-thirty, and it was nearing eight already. Charlie looked forward to ditching his uncomfortable attire in favor of just being himself. Sam had kept his word - that he would not tell anyone about Charlie’s secret - and had kept that just between them. Even when they were around Moe, who was just as wise to the truth as they were. Charlie respected the man’s ability to keep things to himself, and he welcomed the fact that Sam didn’t seem to mind at all. It was a little strange, he told Charlie once. But, he admitted, that he’d seen a lot stranger during his years on the road. Charlie didn’t argue with that, even if his hind-brain wanted to. But it made the nights that they spent together a lot less strenuous. No hiding, no pretense. Sam was easy-going and confident in himself and what he liked. The hybrid found it… a little intimidating, at times. And might have found it almost frightening if Sam didn’t have a distinct way of putting him at ease.

Ugh. He felt himself a little hot in the face, just thinking about it.

His route took him past the church where he hesitated, feeling sweat bead at his temple for an entirely different reason. Hidden underneath his disguise though he was, there was something oppressive about the building that loomed overhead. He’d been hesitant to be seen in the church anywhere near the reverend as of late. It had a tendency to come back to bite him. He’d also pulled himself away from Chalmers’ obvious attempts at corralling him into this or that. Alarm bells had been set off at some point and he panicked, keeping his distance from both Tim and Gary for the sake of his own hide. Something had told him that despite his churning desire to be wanted by either - or both - of them, it was unwise.

Still… it was hard to ignore those desires. Every time he caught Lovejoy’s eyes, it opened up a whole box of feelings that he tried his hardest to cram down. The effort made him want to puke, at the best of times. At the worst of times, he followed his feet and simply absconded from the situation.

“I see that you’re purposefully avoiding me,” said a voice from a few feet away. It made Charlie jump and nearly drop the noodles in his possession, but he managed to keep his grip on it, glancing over at the church’s sign which had been hiding the reverend in question. Oh. He must have been changing the words and… Charlie hadn’t noticed.

Defensive, Charlie let out a little snuff. But he did his best to keep his cool. He didn’t want to ruin his mood by getting into an argument. Especially not when he was already late in meeting Sam. The last thing he wanted was for the other man to think Charlie had stood him up. “I had plans. And I’ve been busy with work. I’m not avoiding you.” Internally, he wondered if maybe he was trying to reassure Tim. That he hadn’t forgotten about him. Even if their encounters were strained, once upon a time, he thought that the man might return those torrid feelings that the hybrid had clung to now for months.

“You’ve had a lot of plans the last couple of weeks,” Lovejoy replied, clearly suspicious of the hybrid’s motives. He shut the box of letters he’d been using to change out the sign, glancing down at the bag of food that Charlie was carrying. “Are you doing food delivery now?”

“No,” Charlie said calmly, ignoring the reverend’s initial observation. Sure. He had plans a lot. Which was mostly just crashing with Moe. But Lovejoy didn’t need to know every detail of his life. “If you wanted me to share my calendar with you, I would have. But you never asked.” It was a bit of a dig. To make Tim really consider how overbearing he was being. As usual, it probably wouldn't work. But that wouldn’t keep Charlie from making the attempt anyway. The holy man was usually too far up his own ass to realize.

Lovejoy tried his best to maintain his composure, drifting closer to the hybrid as if he were going to engage in friendly conversation with a parishioner. As he was expected to do. But his stare was still accusatory. And Charlie noticed that it looked like the man wasn’t getting much sleep, the dark circles underneath his eyes even more prominent. “Not knowing whether or not you’re down there makes it hard for me to figure out what I need to do to keep Helen off your trail. Checking in would at least be appreciated.”

The hybrid stared at Tim, trying his best not to let guilt jab at him from somewhere in the back of his mind. No, it wasn’t his problem if Tim wanted to continue to lie to Helen, whether or not Charlie was there. At this point, he was loath to say that he even wanted to keep being a secret from the reverend’s wife. The town gossip though she was, would anyone really believe her if she happened to mention that there was a reptilian succubus living in her basement?

Probably not.

Charlie breathed out a little sigh, leveling his stare at the other and refusing to duck his head to appear meek. “Then just assume I’m not. I’m making a fair enough income now. I can find other places to sleep that are a little more comfortable than under your train set.” It was a lie. Sort of. The income had nothing to do with the fact that he had an ally or two that he could rely on for a nice, warm bed. Even if Moe’s had a weird smell to it, he at least had a mattress. And Waylon was occasionally accommodating, as long as Charlie could provide a bit of ‘entertainment’ and distractions in the process. And Sam… Well… When he was in town, Charlie had never been turned away. It brought a bit of a warm feeling that settled in his belly and emboldened him just a little in the face of the reverend.

Tim looked a bit taken aback. As if he’d been slightly offended. “So… what, you don’t need me anymore?” It had been clearly meant as an attack, but there was a slight twinge of hurt in the man’s voice.

The hybrid looked away briefly, not meeting Tim’s gaze. He recognized when he was being guilted. Lovejoy was good at it. “That’s not what I said.” Maybe. Maybe he didn’t need Tim anymore. Despite the aching in his chest, he’d long-since been affirmed that there was nothing for him if he chased the expectation of being welcomed into the reverend’s arms. But he hesitated to admit that here and now. Not when he was running late to meet Sam. “I’m not ungrateful,” he continued. “I just… I’m not interested in burdening you with myself for any longer than I need to. You can’t tell me you don’t want that space back to yourself?” He turned the situation back around on Lovejoy, pressing him to say otherwise. Maybe trying to get him to admit something one way or another.

“I’m only concerned with what you’re telling people about me,” Tim said, tension in his shoulders. He didn’t like being cornered like that, Charlie knew.

“I’m not telling people anything. Even if I did, who would believe me? You’ve got… y’know. Jesus on your side or whatever. Anyone here would take your word over mine in a heartbeat.”

Lovejoy found it hard to argue with that, but he chased the urge to do so, taking a step which blocked Charlie’s way forward. Whether he did it on purpose or not, Charlie felt slightly threatened, feeling his scales bristle in mild fear underneath his clothes. The time was ticking by. Sam would undoubtedly believe that something had happened if the hybrid didn’t get going now.

“You’re my responsibility. If I let you wander around without knowing where you are or what you’re doing, who’s to say that Burns won’t come looking for you?” Lovejoy stared at Charlie with apparent conviction. “The bible says that a good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep.”

“I’m not a sheep!” Charlie snapped, though he did his best to keep his voice down. It was not yet night and there could be others passing by. “I’m sick of you calling me that. I wasn’t put here for you to guide me to the light. You’ve got plenty of people in there,” he pointed to the church, “waiting for you to tell them what to do and how to live. Just because you hit me with your car doesn’t make me one of them.” Angry though he was, he wanted nothing more than to leave. End the conversation. Do not pass Go. Do not collect $200. So he pushed past the other, trying to make his way towards the depot again.

“I just want to save you!” Lovejoy called after him, desperation lacing his tone. But Charlie was not feeling kind.

“From what?” He called back to the other, whirling around to narrow eyes at him. “From my Sin? Because right now, the only thing I need to be saved from is you.”

Tim paused, clearly taken aback. “You don’t mean that.”

Exhaling into his mask, Charlie bit back an aggressive retort. “I only have so much fight in me,” he said, loud enough just for the other to hear above the buzzing of the nearby street lamp. “I can’t keep chasing something that you’ve told me time and time again is wrong. You tear me apart in six different ways every time you look at me and you still expect me to get on my knees and beg you for a single positive interaction. I don’t want to do that anymore.” He sighed again, shoulders slumping. “You know how I feel. How I’ve felt. If you don’t want to - or can’t - return that, then the onus is on me to move on.”

The reverend seemed rooted to the spot, unable to say anything in return for a few moments. As if he was having a hard time refuting what he was being told. Charlie knew he couldn’t. It had been more than enough times that he’d said to the hybrid that what he felt was wrong - they couldn’t be together. No matter what emotion or desire lay underneath the surface of Lovejoy’s religious shell. And Charlie was simply tired.

“I-” Tim began. But he was cut off as he looked up to see that they were no longer alone.

“Charlie?”

The hybrid turned back around to see that their conversation had been interrupted by Sam. He blinked in surprise, then moderate embarrassment. “God, what time is it?” He said, haphazardly trying to cover up what he and Lovejoy had just been discussing. “I didn’t mean to make you come this way to find me. I was on my way, honestly.” Sheepishly, Charlie smiled from behind his mask. It wasn’t immediately obvious, but Sam’s easy-going nature meant that he could return the gesture just as easily.

“It’s alright. I just thought something mighta happened. Glad t’see that you weren’t held up too much,” Sam replied cheerfully before his attention shifted to the reverend to whom he gave a courteous nod. “Rev.”

Lovejoy was tense from head-to-toe, forced to process Charlie’s last words and put one and one together to come to a conclusion that Charlie knew he’d hear about later. The reverend’s gaze was squarely on the barfly before he was able to regather his composure and return the nod. He didn’t know the man’s name. Had never bothered learning it, even if Sam made the rare appearance from time to time in the church. He had no particularly strong religious convictions.

Charlie glanced back at Tim nervously. No doubt, they’d have to pick up that conversation later. “It was nice to see you, Reverend,” he said after a moment. “We’ll chat again soon.”

Sam looked from Charlie over to Lovejoy, the tension in the air palpable. But he said nothing, gesturing for the hybrid to accompany him back to the depot. His home was a little too far for them to walk there without the trip taking them well into the night. So the truck would have to do for now. Not that he or Charlie minded very much.

Charlie followed behind, casting one last look at Lovejoy. He could swear that the holy man looked like he was about to break into a tirade, but he heard nothing and eventually focused fully back on Sam, hoping that his pre-planned rendezvous would block out the feeling that he’d just shattered Lovejoy’s heart in some type of way. Maybe because he knew how it felt…

“You alright?”

Sam’s voice broke through the veil of guilt that threatened to pull Charlie under. Shaking it off, Charlie glanced up at the other and nodded, allowing himself a slightly nervous laugh. “Yeah. Just… you know. Getting preached at sometimes kind of throws me off.”

“Didn’t seem like a typical sermon,” Sam replied, glancing at Charlie knowingly from behind his glasses.

Clearing his throat, Charlie tried not to make eye contact. He had a… difficult time lying to Sam. Whether it was because he genuinely trusted the man or didn’t want to lie to him, he wasn’t sure which. But he didn’t want to get into the particulars. Especially not when he felt like it… might put things at risk. Nope, he didn’t want that. “I brought you some food!” He said instead, holding up the bag with the chicken and noodles within. Hoping that would be a sufficient distraction. Luckily, Sam seemed to accept that the hybrid was not an open book at that exact moment, and he took the bag from the other before patting Charlie’s plastic beak affectionately.

“Y’can take that off if y’want. There’s nobody on these side streets and nobody at the depot. We shouldn’t be bothered any.”

Breathing out a little sigh of relief, Charlie tugged off the mask and cloak, holding them in his arms as they walked. It was becoming more of a chore to keep his disguise maintained from day to day. Whenever he got the opportunity to not wear it, he considered it a blessing.

“That’s better,” the barfly said with a little smile.

Charlie had to keep himself from giggling like a fucking school girl. Fuck. What was wrong with him? They’d certainly had more intimate moments than this, but something as simple as that tiny, hidden compliment had him reeling. Stupid.

They walked side by side until the depot fence came into view and the hybrid followed Sam through the gate and towards his rig. The bright red was always a stand-out and made it easy to identify. He was thankful for that, knowing that had he not been able to tell the difference, he may have frightened some random trucker on more than one occasion.

“Wasn’t too bad of a trip, I take it?” Charlie asked as he came to the door, waiting patiently as it was unlocked and Sam clambered inside, reaching out to offer a hand for Charlie to climb up right after him.

“Boring, but otherwise pretty run of th’mill,” Sam replied, shutting the door behind him and making his way back to the not-very-roomy bedroom that he slept in. Charlie set the bits of his disguise in the front seat and hopped back with him, making himself comfortable on the bed and giving a lazy stretch. Sam settled on the floor for now, opening up the food that Charlie had brought him and making short work of it. Obviously hungry.

“You never seem to have very interesting stories. Unless you keep them all under wraps.” Charlie scooted up behind Sam, rolling onto his back on the bed and batting gently at the man’s hat like a lazy cat.

“Warehouses and truck stops don’t really make for interestin’ conversation.” Sam removed his hat and placed it over Charlie’s face with a gentle huff of laughter in between bites of his food. Something about his rumble of a laugh made the hybrid’s stomach flip pleasantly. It was a comforting sound after his earlier confrontation with Lovejoy. “Besides, I have more interestin’ stories whenever you drag me into somethin’. Wouldn’ make sense t’tell you about ‘em when you were there.”

“Aw,” Charlie replied, sitting up and setting the man’s hat atop his own head to wear. Feeling a little goofy and giddy as he did so. “Didn’t realize you felt that way.~” His voice lilted teasingly as he settled into their usual back-and-forth routine of flirt after flirt. Despite Sam’s quiet, old-man demeanor that he normally carried around, they both played off each other fairly well. It was something Charlie cherished. And something he figured that not many others were able to experience when they were sharing Sam’s company. It made him feel… special. Wanted.

He kept that bit to himself.

“So…” Sam began once he’d finished his food and was working on one of the beer’s that Charlie had provided him with. The hybrid was not as interested in getting drunk tonight, but he’d more than adjusted to the perpetual scent of alcohol and cigarettes that had long-since settled into Sam’s clothes. In fact… there was a part of him that enjoyed it. “I’m guessin’ I didn’t actually interrupt a sermon earlier.”

Charlie tensed slightly, reaching up to remove Sam’s hat and set it aside as he shifted his gaze away from the other. Guilt threatened to bubble up inside of his gut again. “...That obvious, huh.”

“A little. Th’way he was lookin’ at you made it look like you’d ran over his dog.”

Scoffing, Charlie didn’t answer right away. Uncomfortable with the topic, but knowing that he likely owed Sam some form of explanation. He trusted the man. Though he worried, internally, that getting too far into his fucked up dynamic with the reverend would frighten Sam away for one reason or another.

“He was just upset that I wasn’t coming around as often. Mostly just been… minding my business whenever you’re not here. Hanging out with Moe… That kind of thing.” He hesitated to go into further detail than that. Sam didn’t need to know that he occasionally slept over with Smithers too. It made him feel like a little bit of a… slut… Not that he would say so.

“Uh-huh,” Sam replied, nursing his beer and seemingly lost in thought until he continued. “And he’s… not likin’ that he can’t keep tabs on you?”

“...Possibly.”

“Hm. Sounds like he’s upset that you’re not as obsessive over him as he wants you t’be.”

Charlie frowned a little to himself. Sam had probably hit the nail on the head. His tail curled around himself as his insecurities were brought to light, though he had a hard time being upset at Sam about it. The man was only saying what he’d been able to observe. It must have been pretty obvious, now that Charlie thought about it… “I’m sick of his hovering. It’s gotten out of control.”

“And y’told him that?”

“I tried to.” Charlie’s ears dropped back against his hair, admitting in a not-so-verbal way that he had not been as assertive as he probably should have been.

There was silence for a moment as Charlie stared down at the sheets on the bed and Sam seemed to be focused on his drink. Until he seemed to be finished with it and set it aside to toss in the garbage later, getting up with some effort and getting himself into the bed to sit next to the hybrid. Charlie glanced away from him. A bit ashamed that the topic of Lovejoy had been brought up at all. Drunkard or otherwise, Sam had some good powers of observation. As much as Charlie enjoyed his company, it made him feel like he was being seen right through.

“He’s gonna have t’accept that you’re your own person eventually. Whether or not he wants to,” Sam finally said after a few minutes had passed.

“I’m not even sure I’ve accepted that yet,” Charlie responded with a bit of a bitter laugh. He hadn’t meant to say that, but it came out of him all the same. “And the last thing I need is to put the burden on you to help me do that. It’s not your responsibility.” He found himself echoing what he’d told Lovejoy, but from… a different part of himself. With Lovejoy, it was through tired defeat that he tried to remove himself from the situation, but now… He just didn’t want to saddle Sam with more drama that the man surely didn’t need in his relatively quiet life.

Before he realized it, he felt a press against his shoulder, turning to glance at Sam as the other closed the distance between them, watching for a heart-pounding moment as the barfly reached to intertwine their pinkies as they had done several times before. It was a much more romantic gesture than Charlie had initially meant it to be the first time they’d done it. But now… It set his nerves alight and made him wish that his face weren’t so red.

“Might not be my responsibility, but m’happy to help you along,” he murmured to Charlie, the slight slur in his words not at all dampening the intent which made the hybrid wheeze a little with embarrassment as he unwittingly scooted his hand to take a more firm hold of Sam’s. Maybe clinging to it. Just a little. God help him.

“You could really fool everyone, you know. Into thinking you’re just ‘some guy’ at the bar,” Charlie said after a moment of trying to calm his racing heart. “And not… you. The you that I know.”

Sam chuckled a little. “The me that you know is not as drunk as I usually am.” Leaning over, he pressed a kiss to Charlie’s temple. A gesture which did not qualm the aggressive thump-thump going on inside of Charlie’s chest. He didn’t altogether understand why he couldn’t get himself together. He was not unfamiliar with the concept of being smitten, but he’d been denied a positive response to it for so long, that he hesitated to call it that this time too.

At least until another kiss was placed to the side of his face and he faltered, unable to resist allowing himself to hope. Maybe it would be different. Lovejoy never gave him this kind of affection so openly. Not without a fair amount of pestering. Not without an argument and harsh words. Not without pleading and tears and a thick, heavy feeling that hung around his head. Right now… all he felt was light. There was fear, but as the seconds ticked by, Charlie tried to muffle it.

And eventually he turned, meeting Sam’s gaze for a prolonged moment. It was honest, he thought. There was no sense of an ulterior motive. No reason for Charlie to believe that this was all a long-con. Sam was not that kind of man. Right?

Right?

His hesitation was not missed. Reaching up with his other hand - his fingers rough and calloused, Charlie noticed - Sam placed it gently against Charlie’s cheek. Holding his face delicately and softly, as though he was trying to provide the kindest support. To offer warmth through the touch that would squelch that fear.

God, Charlie thought.

Let me not be wrong again.

As though a dam had burst, Charlie leaned forward and captured Sam’s mouth with his own, drawing him into a heated and nearly desperate kiss that Sam returned after a moment of trying to process the act. Every time Sam went away for a while, the hybrid forgot just how warm and comforting his kisses were. His hands were strong, but kind. He tasted like beer and smoke, but Charlie couldn’t get enough. He drank in the affection to the point where he thought that it would drown him. But it would be a sweet death, Charlie thought.

For once, he forgot about Lovejoy. As he broke the kiss to take in a breath, he caught Sam’s eyes again.

“I missed you,” he blurted out against the other man’s lips, red in the face when he realized how brazen the admission was. But he certainly wouldn’t take it back. The feeling was only solidified with Sam nodded, a bit breathy in his murmur of agreement before Charlie felt himself being pulled into another kiss, toppling over and onto the bed as he felt Sam’s arms closing around him.

It hadn’t been the first time they’d spent the night together, but there was something different now. Charlie hesitated to put words to it, but as he felt himself get lost in the comfort and security of Sam’s presence, he knew that he would have to, eventually.

For now, he was okay with accepting the warmth and safety he was being offered. He was okay with murmuring more sweet words when he could find the words to say. He was okay with being vulnerable. He was okay with the warm, smoky sound of Sam’s voice in his ear. He was okay with the touch of his hands; the heat between their kisses; the thrumming of his own heart.

He thought about the next time Sam would have to go away for a while. It made him ache.

Maybe he’d tag along.

In the corner, his phone lay unattended, dutifully remaining in silent mode as the night wore on. The screen blinked lazily, but otherwise didn’t bother to alert its owner that he had missed several calls from the reverend.

They would go unanswered tonight.