#and as small as they are they don't really resemble me much either

[britneyshakespeare]

drawing just eats up my fucking time man

[vaspider]

Look. A little advice.

Once you get to a certain amount of Known on the internet or a subsection of it, or even in a subsection of a RL group of people, there are going to be people who will make up a version of you which exists only in their heads and which has absolutely nothing to do with who you are. It might better resemble who you were twenty years ago or it might never have had anything to do at all with who you were then or are now.

You cannot stop this. You cannot prevent this. Once you get a certain number of followers or a certain amount of attention, that's going to happen: people will make up stories about you which either look through a fun-house mirror at some small aspect of who you are and twist it and blow it up until it doesn't resemble you at all, or which just have absolutely no basis in fact whatsoever.

This is just another kind of parasocial relationship; it's the kind which really sucks to deal with, because it's so negative and so pervasive. It's very real, and the frustration you feel about it is very real. Nobody wants to be known incorrectly.

But. You can't control this. It's gonna happen. No matter what you say, no matter how precisely you say it, the people who want to misinterpret you will find a way to do so. This doesn't mean 'don't pay attention to what you say,' or 'don't be purposeful and precise with your language,' but it does mean 'don't obsess over the people who are determined to get you wrong.'

You can be the most anodyne, run-of-the-mill, unremarkable human being, and the people who are determined to hate you will find something that they can point to and say 'ha ha! I told you that Spider danced with the devil at midnight! I witnessed it myself!' (It will not help the situation if you are, say, self-admittedly stubborn as fuck, long-winded, and sometimes kinda fucking obnoxious, but please realize that in the end, it doesn't really matter. This is gonna happen no matter what.)

The people who matter will look at what's being said, wrinkle up their foreheads, and say, 'uh, man, it looks like Spider was actually playing with his dog at 9 am?'

That said, if you don't have elephant-thick skin from being a marginalized-gender human being who's been on the internet since before the web had pictures, there are some things you can do to make it easier when people making things up about you starts to get on your nerves:

Establish protocols for when it becomes too much: have someone read your messages, turn off your notifications, have time where you purposefully disengage.

Establish protocols for how you interact, period: "I will block people without guilt if they engage positively with the people who spread untruths about me." "I will answer everything in public so people can't lie about what I said, because it's right there in public." "I will not answer work-related stuff in DMs, that has to go to the work email." Whatever it is, create some boundaries for yourself. Stick to them. The people who push you to bend them aren't doing that for your benefit but theirs.

If you get someone who really hits your Weirdo Alarm, trust it. Yeah, block and report, but also, take screenshots and store them somewhere that isn't easily erased. I have an 'Internet Weirdos' folder, which makes it a little easier to deal with when people start doing things like 'making threats of physical harm to me and my family.' Don't fuss, just take a screenshot and chuck it in the folder. Having that record makes it easier to just forget that it ever happened, because you have a paper trail if anybody starts doing something Real Weird.

Spend time offline, with people who do actually know you.

Don't get lost in the version of you that someone else makes up in order to make up for the shit that's missing in their own life. You aren't required to play the part that someone else is trying to script for you. It is never to your benefit, only to theirs; you gain nothing by standing in that role for them, and you lose precious seconds of your one irreplaceable life.

You could be using those seconds to look at this video of how to pick up a duck, which I think we can all agree is a better investment of your time.

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 14

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 13, Part 15

Warning as usual. There is blood and gore in this chapter!

Staring up at the Archon parading around in human form, you lick your lips and note how even those minor injuries were healed. Your body aches with phantom pain, some wounds healed too rapidly. 

"I don't mind answering some questions, can I get your name first?"

A small smile plays at his lips as his hand is held out in front of you. "My name is Zhongli, I'm the Funeral Parlors consultant. It would be a pleasure to hear yours, outlander."

So he is aware of your origin, well at least partly aware. If he's not going to pull any punches then why should you? Besides if it all goes wrong, you can blame it on the bloodloss that you're still recovering from.

"I'm Y/N, and you're correct that I do not originate from this world. You must not be a normal person either, in fact you look identical to this statue. This one portrays Morax the Geo Archon, but I'm sure you know that, Rex Lapis."

Getting a good look at the statue from your proximity, it was obvious that Zhongli was Morax. You could make the excuse of it being game logic on why no one makes the connection, but that wouldn't work anymore. Maybe the statues are imbued with power that prevents anyone from this world to recognize the similarities?

"So it seems you are more knowledgeable than the traveler was when they arrived here. I should have known considering how the Electro and Geo particles surround you with zeal. Perhaps Teyvat is charmed by the features you share with the Holy One."

His step forward and angled head to look you in the eyes have you staring at glowing amber hues. The red eyeliner and outlined iris make it uncomfortably clear how intensely he's examining you.

"The curve of your lips, a stature so familiar, you resemble the creator so much. Teyvat must be bewitched and awed by an individual so alike as you. If only I could see your face in it's full visage, only then would I know for sure..."

Anyone would feel flattered or embarrassed with how seriously Zhongli studies you, but dread is the only thing you feel. You know that behind those honey-coated words is a trap just waiting for you to spring.

Too bad for him; the last thing you plan to be is predictable.

"My, my what a compliment! A devout and faithful follower like yourself is comparing me to the creator? You should pray for forgiveness to the merciful creator. I'm a servant for them, just in a different league than you. My connection with them is strong enough that Teyvat graces me with qualities alike yet inferior to the Everlasting One."

Zhongli returned to his perfect posture at your words, the flash of envy couldn't hide. "Oh?" Narrowed eyes and a lofty tone that encourages you to smile wider. "And what position could an outsider like you hold?"

"Well, as an Oracle of course! Really, just how dumb are you? An outlander that is incredibly knowledgeable of the Creator? It's painfully obvious." There's no reaction to your test insults, which is fine that wasn't the last you had in store.

"I'm from the world that the Creator is recuperating in. It's due to that, that I can speak to them much more freely than everyone here. Even Teyvat pales in comparison. That's why Teyvat is so attached to me, my aura is overwhelmed by the creators."

Honestly, you had Chongyun to thank for that one. You weren't sure how you were supposed to explain the whole Teyvat clinging to you without sounding repetitive. But if Zhongli was that easily fooled, he wouldn't be one of the victors of the Archon war.

"Then enlighten me on why the glorious creator would need an Oracle of your caliber to spread their word. Surely that's the least you can do." He's fully dropped that faux-polite tone in contrast to the technically proper speech. 

"Gladly! It's become common knowledge that the elemental monsters and animals have started to act strangely. Add in the leylines that change from out of control to perfectly calm in a matter of minutes or weeks. These are all signs of the Creator's upcoming appearance! They need to be sure of who in this vast land they can properly trust."

"That still doesn't explain why you in particular were chosen. A wily and fresh child like you wouldn't do the best job." Hard like stone, Zhongli refused to even blink at your words. A god like himself would never falter after thousands of years spent perfecting his worship. 

But did he really have to insult you at the same time?

"So you refuse to believe it because of my supposed inability to properly carry out any duties assigned to me? You don't even know all that I had done to arrive here! Surely you should know just how rough the waters were..."

The hand that covers your mouth does a poor job of covering the sly smile. Zhongli stares at you in silence, the wind swaying around the floating chunk of rock that you both stand on.

"Just what are you trying to imply?" His voice is as soft as a whisper but cutting like the sharpest steel.

"Why explain it when I can show it?" Silently rejoicing at such a convenient set up, you peer into your bag and grab the item you've been saving.

Shimmering brightly in the harsh glares of the sun is Beisht's scale, still in pristine condition despite your perilous journey since that day you got it from the sea-leviathan.

It feels like ages ago. Just how much time has passed since you arrived on Teyvat? How much more time will you spend in situations like this? Weeks? Months? YEARS?

The existential dread is quickly pushed away by your beaming smile at Zhongli's reaction to the singular item. The rocky exterior finally breaks at the proof of your 'abilities'. His lips part at the bright teal color and he blinks incredulously at it.

Really, how could you pass up the chance to rub it in?

"Surely a human of my caliber would be capable of this much. I mean, a perfectly intact scale from a leviathan that managed to avoid the whole Qixing that isn't dyed in blood? Child's play for a servant specifically chosen by the Creator. I never doubted the creators' choices!" 

Holding the scale in front of you, you smirk at the man with as much snark as you hold in your heart. "The same can't be said for you, Mr. 'That still doesn't explain why you in particular were chosen.' Because the Creator is capable of choosing anyone they want, for whatever reason they desire."

Silence envelopes the area as you stare at him, a beat passes with no movement until a gruff chuckle leaves him.

"The more you speak, the closer I come to a conclusion." Recovering quickly, Zhongli's gloved hand rises to tap his mouth contemplatively. "You're either something far worse than I've seen in a long time, or a hope for the Creator's return."

That white outline around his iris seems to spin with the malicious joy that he refuses to show. It's like his body screams that he'll either enjoy your presence or your destruction. Nerves and anxiety grip your heart but ignoring it has always worked better for you.

"Maybe I can say the same thing about you considering your past, but I see you still aren't convinced. And how could I ever let you, one of the longest standing worshippers, have doubts about me? So tell me, were Beisht and her husband devout or sacrilegious beings?"

The answer he'll say is obvious, not only because you hold such a confident stance showing that you know the answer but because of Zhongli himself. A noble dragon that willingly bows to someone would feel ashamed at the thought of resorting to lying to boost his own pride.

Quite ironic how you hold so much trust in his answer due to the acolytes' faith in the creator. The same faith that led you to this position, and the same thing that'll keep you from ever exposing the truth of your identity. A constant force preventing them from meeting their 'beloved' creator.

"You met Beisht in the flesh, there's no doubt that she is solemn and serious in her worship. The same can be said for Osial, it was one of the few things I could agree with the leviathan. Even still, I'm the superior believer. After all, I'm the one who is left after all this time." 

"Yet I met Beisht before you."

The scoff and know-it-all tone he used pricked at your nerves long enough to cause an annoyed response to slip out. Unfortunately, that seems to be what Zhongli was baiting for as he laughs, the low sound making the rock platform tremble.

"That's if you're even an Oracle. You may be from that world and even heard about Teyvat from the Creator, but for all I know, you could have been banished here for us acolytes to execute. Whether it be for avenging the Creator or entertaining them."

Damn, it was almost scary how fast he turned the situation around. But how could you falter now? Getting tongue-tied at such a crucial moment would be a pathetic way to lose your life.

"And what will you do if I truly am an Oracle? When the creator's return is delayed months, years or even decades due to your rash actions, what will you tell the creator when confronted with the consequences of your own actions?"

"Then you should work hard enough to prove to skeptics like myself. To put blind faith in whatever is dubbed the creator's is a fool's belief. Temptation and sin ravage Teyvat from the long drought of the Creator's presence."

For a split second, sorrow clouded his eyes. He's hiding something. It’s important and you can feel it in your soul. The only thing that really stains his and Venti's reputation is their war with Khaenri'ah. It must be connected to that. 

But it's too early to try digging in for information on that. He doesn't even believe you to be the Oracle, how could you possibly get that out of him? What if he's under a contract and must stay silent on the matter?

Lost in his memories, Zhongli doesn't realize how your face pinches in frustration. You'll have to get his approval as the Oracle before you can even- 

Oh.

Oh, why didn't you realize this before?

A grin spreads across your face as you circle in on the heart of the problem and the perfect way to fix it.

It's not that Zhongli doesn't believe you to be the creator's Oracle, he just doesn't want to believe it! He's envious: envious of why a random outlander like you got such a nice position in comparison to him who probably spent most of his life molding himself to the creators standards.

All that's left is to reel him in and you know the perfect way how.

"Prove myself? I've done plenty to prove myself, but what about you?" Mockingly, you tilt your head as your empty gaze peers into Zhongli's eyes, digging deep into him. He focuses back on the conversation at your shift in tone.

"If anyone should have to prove themselves, it should be you." This time it's you who takes the bold step forward. "Let's start at the beginning, shall we? And try to keep in that temper too so that I can finish my words. A dragon your age should know such simple things."

"As Morax you were quite powerful, though a brute to be completely honest. Still, you knew your limits well and paired up with the Lord of Dust before the Archon War, who served as the 'brain'. Tell me, just how did it feel when you found her as nothing more than a statue that day?"

Your words have a strong effect on the imposing man, his fist trembling at the mention of such a beloved god, one whose death still pains him. Paying no mind to his pain you ask the monumental question.

"Just how much resentment do you hold against the Creator for her death?"

A hand slams you against the Statue hard enough to bruise your skin. It doesn't squeeze around your throat but there's no need to as the Geo begins to petrify your legs, locking you in place. The Statue is in a constant state of healing in defense to the bruises on your neck.

"Just what are you trying to imply by saying that?" Cold and apathetic is the voice that flows from the stoic man. It's what you would imagine Morax would sound like before Guizhong taught him how to care for humans.

"C'mon, that's the second time you've asked me that. Don't make me speak the obvious-" A shuddering gasp leaves you as he tightens his grip. But it's gone just as fast; a flock of birds tackle Zhongli.

You can only watch in shock as what was only 4 to 5 birds grow to become at least 15 birds of all kinds attacking him. The throbbing of your neck being healed as the Geo instantly releases you is overshadowed by Zhongli swatting at the birds as he takes continuous steps back.

But that's all it took for Zhongli to fall off the edge as the birds flew away cawing happily. Standing and staring at the spot where Zhongli fell off in shock, you begin to chuckle. It grows to a giggle before you're laughing hysterically as you buckle to the ground. Loud peels of laughter ring around the area as you hold your stomach from the ache of laughing so much.

To think Teyvat took the initiative to help you out for once. Why couldn't it do it sooner? Was it only after gaining some power from activating a new nations statue of the seven that it could? You couldn't focus on the question anymore as the look on Zhongli's face when he fell came to mind again.

The sight of his eyes blown wide and a split second of pure panic sent you straight back into a fit of laughter. The ground far below you shakes as a Geo pillar constructs a bridge high enough to reach the stone you sat on. 

The sound of footsteps make you open your eyes and giggle at the sight of a disheveled and annoyed Zhongli. Annoyed is still an improvement compared to his enraged state earlier. With giggles slipping out, you stand back up and laugh louder at his appearance in full view.

His hair was pulled out of his rattail with his earrings nowhere to be seen. Bits and pieces of the weaker cloth of his suit were missing, giving him a poor look that didn't match his flawless posture. The red marks and light cuts only added to the joy you feel at his expense.

"Are you finished laughing, Y/N?"

"For now at least. I would suggest buying a new set of clothes but I don't think you have the mora for it!" Zhongli only lets out a long-suffering sigh as you crack up again.

You would be scolding yourself for not taking the chance to escape while he was away but it was better this way. You didn't need the information about Khaenri'ah, it was nice to know but the information wouldn't help you live.

The main reason you stayed was because running away would prove Zhongli right to be suspicious about you. It would let him know that you're scared and have something to hide. Plus, that would mean having to escape Liyue the same way you did Ei, just in a worse situation.

That's not something you want to repeat.

"Alright I'm done laughing." You say while wiping off the budding tears from the corner of your eyes. Zhongli sends you a look that screams that he doesn't believe you but you shrug it off.

"Really, that question was more of a test if you will. My main job is simply to see who the Creator can trust. Your relationship with the Creator beyond that is between you and them." 

The calm and peaceful tone you use is such a contrast to the one you used earlier that Zhongli is clearly apprehensive. Paying it no mind you continue to speak. 

"If you truly want a reason to at least try and believe me to be the oracle even if you don't fully believe me, then I'll give you one. I'm sure you still have the stone dumbbell from Guizhong that you've never been able to open. I know how to open it."

Those last words have Zhongli staring at you intensely as you gaze off into the distance. The Dragon-Queller tree is visible through the fog with its glowing blue branches and yellow leaves.

"How?" He breathes out, scared to trust but scared to lose this opportunity too.

"It requires a naturally grown glaze lily cultivated by the Creator. That's because it requires a 'pure' glaze lily and the only one who can grow such a thing at this day and age is the Creator. All the natural glaze lilies have died after all."

Zhongli's shoulders slump at your words. It seems he started to let his guard down after he fell off. He must no longer view you as a threat or, at most, an annoyance. That's okay with you, underestimation is the most useful viewpoint they could have for you.

"Should I even make an attempt to ask you why it can only be unlocked with that? You're only telling me this as a last resort to keep you alive, correct? Even if I told you that I would keep you alive without that information, you wouldn't believe me. As childish as you may be, foolishness does not seem to be a quality you hold."

"That may be true, but if you really want an answer to that first question then I'll tell you." You look over to lock eyes with him and smile. It conceals every sneaky and vicious thought you hold. "I have no clue. The Creator instructed me to use it as a last resort, if you want that answer then try praying. Perhaps you'll get an answer."

You would like to know the answer to the stone dumbbell too. After all, you only made up the solution! Seeing as Zhongli spent all these years after Guizhong's death, failing to unlock it, it's a good bet that it'll never open. 

It's silent as you both get lost in your own thoughts. Unlike before it wasn't tense, it was more comparable to the silence you would spend alone in your apartment. The nights you would only be accompanied by the thoughts of the 'what-if' situations. Thoughts that would only stay thoughts just as the past would be just that, the past.

Wanderer learned that the hard way too. You wouldn't let yourself hold so many regrets before your inevitable death. Even in Liyue you weren't truly safe, so wouldn't it be best to speak to Zhongli while you still could?

"I have questions about Khaenri'ah… Well, the better way to put it is that the Creator has questions about them. It's one of the few things that they mourn the most. A whole nation devoted to worshiping solely the creator, destroyed by the Archons that swore their life and loyalty to the creator. So will you explain it to me?"

His eyes fill with the same sorrow you saw in him earlier. It seems you were right in guessing that his line on blindly trusting things labeled with the creator was connected to Khaenri'ah.

"I have spent all my years after that day asking for forgiveness, for some way to atone. It was one of the few contracts that I did not properly balance in equivalent exchange. I regret signing it, not for myself but for my beloved God."

"So it's a no."

"It's an agreement not to speak of it."

"Then don't speak about it." Zhongli seeds you a questioning glance as you mischievously smile at him. "Just listen to my words and don't look away. I'm quite sure nodding and shaking your head doesn't count as breaking your silence."

A huff of amusement leaves him at your solution. His eyes close with his lips curling into a small smile. He nods his head in acceptance, not having the drive to poke holes into your stubbornness.

You were quite confident in the conclusions you've drawn so far. Genshin Impact was nearly the sole reason you were living back on Earth. Family and friends were nonexistent, you had given up hope on making any new connections as well. The only thing you did when you weren't home was work and your work made you be everything but yourself. So combining everything you know from the game with everything of the cult that you've learned thus far shouldn't be too hard.

"When the Archon War broke out, I'm sure most of you were merely looking to keep your people and nation alive. The original design of having the gods powered solely on their people's worship paled in comparison to Celestia's offer of power by obtaining a spot in a group of seven. At the end, you all had a choice. Accept your spot by accepting a Gnosis, or go against them similar to how the Dragon King once did."

Zhongli perks up at the mention of the Dragon King. Not many people know about the original Dragon King. Most people assume it's Azhdaha when in reality, the original was a far greater dragon.

"You all must have been quite against it. The only God you would all bow under would be the Creator who had left before those events to sleep in my world, yet Celestia probably whispered to you all that it was allowed on Teyvat because it was approved by the Creator. That the Gnosis was a reward for all your hard work and as Celestia was the first descender, all of you accepted it.”

The way he begins to stare at you is invasive, like he's just dying to jump you to get every bit of knowledge you hold on the topic. He's starting to suspect you.

"Yet when Khaenri'ah was revealed to exist years afterwards, everything was thrown into confusion. I'm sure you and the other Archons were fine with their presence as Khaenri'ah worshiped the Creator, but was Celestia?" 

A sly smile creeps upon your face at the memory of when it was revealed that Khaenri'ah  wasn't the first civilization to be turned into hilichurls. No one liked Celestia so you had no problem pinning almost all the blame onto it.

"I'm sure they were enraged, especially as Khaenri'ah grew more and more bold with their inventions. Gold in particular was quite dangerous seeing as she not only created life but also Durin and the Golden Wolflord. And even that was unintentional!"

You laugh cheerfully as Zhongli chuckles in surprise at your words. Had you successfully deterred him? Probably not, but he hasn't stopped you so you'll keep going till the end.

"Celestia ordered you all to aid them in destroying Khaenri'ah but you all refused. How could any of you harm a nation so devoted to the creator even if they refused to worship Celestia or the Seven? But that Gnosis you all accepted comes with a price. A price that serves as leverage and a control device."

The thoughts of what Beisht told you on how Celestia had caused them to forget the original way of worship resurfaced. Celestia was just too suspicious for that to be the only thing they had done. It would take a lot more than that to force the Archons to listen to them.

"That Gnosis was like a drug. It gave you all so much power, tasting and making you feel like you're on top of the world! Just for it to come crashing down when the unpleasant side effects hit you. It corrupted you all like poison forcing you to wage war against Khaenri'ah. My best bet is that it was like mind control. What do you say?"

He looks at you with a blank expression, as if trying to see the secrets you hid in your soul through your eyes. But there's no response from him, not even the occasional nods that he was giving before.

"Well if it was mind control, perhaps it made you believe that Khaenri'ah had plans to overrule the Creator and create their own human god. Or maybe it made them out to be traitors to the creator. Perhaps both? That doesn't really matter, what does matter is that only after the war was in full throttle were you all brought back to your senses."

You didn't have any proof of that last part, it just seemed like something Celestia would do. Not only to prove their superiority but also force the Archons to put their best effort in defeating the people of Khaenri'ah to save their nations.

"After the war ended, you all wanted to get rid of it but Celestia wouldn't allow such a thing. Even if you most likely tried to find some loophole, Celestia doesn't play nice. It would make sense if they threatened to give a punishment similar to what they had done to Khaenri'ah. So long as none of you destroy or throw it away, they'll leave you all be,”

Venti was a god, no matter what fans said, there was no way he would lose to Signora. It made more sense if that was his way of 'handing' it over to the Tsaritsa. There was also Nahida who threatened to break her Gnosis to one-up Dottore. That was always funny, you would kill to have witnessed that in person. 

"Of course none of you would actually use it or even desire it in your vicinity. Everyone wins when the Tsaritsa uses her various methods to acquire the gnosis'. And thanks to the traveler appearing during that time, Celestia was probably too busy freaking out over that to pay too much attention. For a while at least."

Finally looking back to Zhongli, you smiled proudly. "I must be pretty close right? At no point did you laugh at me like you did with Alice so I'll take that as a good sign. And even if I'm wrong, everything will be solved when the Creator descends."

Stretching to loosen the tension in your back, you applaud yourself for the brilliant thinking. It's not like anyone can actually fake gold blood for long when even hair dye didn't exist yet. You're basically leaving all these loose ends to the you that would be believed to be the Creator. Which is never going to happen!

"Would the Creator scorn me for asking you once again if you're truly an oracle?"

"I'm sure the glorious creator would be fully justified in doing so, but I'll scorn you in their stead.. And don't get it twisted, it's not because of your feelings concerning Guizhong's death. It's how you, by your own negligence, offended the Creator!"

An utterly baffled expression paints his face at your accusation. Unrelenting, you point your finger at him with a serious face that you haven't shown him till now.

"Did you really believe that the creator wouldn't realize? Just how little you changed from that brute of a dragon that saw humans as plentiful yet insignificant as dust? To think that you believed yourself to be comparable to the primordial dragons."

Zhongli stiffens at the mention of the primordial dragons. After all he is the prime of the Adepti who's exuvia is a dragon, not a primordial dragon. Wouldn't it be fun if he held some sense of inferiority when compared to the primordial ones?

Zhongli sits on the ledge of the rock with his elbows on his legs and his hands covering his face. It was time. He would question just what you were talking about and you'll explain the elemental sacrificing that he forgot. That'll be the end and he'll have no choice but to support you! 

Smiling knowingly you approach him and lean down to see behind the shadow casting over his eyes. Your eyes twinkle victoriously as his breath leaves a cloud from the crisp air.

"I should have known that the creator would not forgive me for failing to arrive on time."

What? 

"How could I have been beaten to that shooting star by that astrologist? No matter who may have been her master, I failed to arrive on time."

Zhongli sulks there as he continues rambling to himself on 'missing' the shooting star due to his old age. Was he seriously talking about how you lost him the first time to Mona?!

Memories come back of you using the last of your wishes on his banner and being greeted with Mona instead. The first 50/50 you lost and was forced to use nearly all your primogems to get him. A fact that you never let Zhongli forget through your adventures.

Just what would he do if he knew how you always switched to a different character whenever his idle starts to play? Would he sew his lips together in repentance? That must be the difference between a true believer and a fake believer...

Holding back a sigh you begin brainstorming on how you were supposed to bring the conversation back to the sacrificing. Zhongli is too lost in his own head as he begins to continuously blame himself for any mistake he could have made.

"Being unable to answer the travelers' questions must have worsened their view on me too."

"That and how you were willing to let Liyue flood if they couldn't defeat Osial."

"Human life may be precious but they're as numerous as the dust that make up stone. I would rebuild Liyue for the rest of this long life until I cultivate a nation that I could humbly present the creator with."

"Then shouldn't the creator just grind you down and raise a different Adepti to their exact liking? You should work hard to be exactly what they desire to be truly loved."

"Are you saying that the Creator loathes me?" He finally looks away from the sea of clouds to stare at you. Sparing him a glance, you listen to him grow more panicked by your silence.

"Do they wish to see me crumble and be reabsorbed into the earth for my mistakes, for my sins? Was it the way I mechanically went through the motions of worship for the few years after Guizhong's death? Or does my benevolent god crave me and my nation to fall for aiding in the destruction of Kh-?"

Abruptly Zhongli grasps at his chest where his heart lays as he coughs. More out of politeness than concern you rub his back as fluid flies from his lips to his closed fist.

The thick inky plum colored fluid stained his fist with droplets of crimson swirling within it. His coughing fit slows to a halt as his hand slowly releases the clothing over his heart. Harsh breathing and a shallow pained groan is all that can be heard as he cleans himself up.

“Pardon me-” 

“Was that a warning from Celestia or a side effect if you get too close to speaking?"

"The implication is the same no matter what it may be from." He whispers as you begin to move back to return his personal space. Yet his now ungloved hand is what wraps around your grass stained sleeve.

"Now answer my question." Determination and a barely concealed unruly emotion simmer beneath his composed surface as he asks. "As an oracle, tell me what I have to do to earn their forgiveness. What must I reap to begin repenting for the sins I sowed?" 

Eyes widening at the sight of the disheveled man, you stare at him quietly. The messy hair, cut up clothing and grip tight enough to keep you still all while being careful not to bruise.

Hook, line and sinker.

"Is that a question for me to answer? Am I the god that you wronged? If you wish to communicate with the creator yourself, then there is a way. A method to begin regaining the pebbles that make up the mountain of trust you once shared with them."

You grab the arm that connects to his hand wrapped around your own and pull him up. He obeys the silent command and stands up, his gaze never faltering from your form. Silent and towering like the mountains he's created, he simply listens.

"Celestia has hidden more from you than you originally thought. But I'm sure you already know that. Offer yourself to the merciful creator and they'll surely hear your pleas of forgiveness. Whether they forgive you or not is up to them."

Releasing your hold on him, you turn to survey the area. Now where could you have him perform the sacrifice? His free hand comes to rest on your shoulder for your attention.

"What must I offer of myself? My blood? My body? If need be, I'll even be willing to offer my life. My life is worthless without them. I'm nothing more than a grain of mineral if not for them."

"There's so many things you can offer, but if you want to make the most impact, then you'll offer up your body parts. Your life may be precious but just how much longer do you have left?"

"Then will the private temple I have built for them work? We can head there immediately." He points south to the sole unnamed mountain in Minlin. You vividly remember unlocking the teleport waypoint there.

"The only way I'll know is when I see the interior. I'll meet you there Zhongli!"

Pulling yourself away from his grasp, you close your eyes and calmly imagine what the scenery around the waypoint looks like. The rocky feel of the floating stone changes to a lush green beneath your feet. Opening your eyes you're greeted with a valley of viridescent brustles with degraded stone ruins at the edges. 

"To think that the Creator even allowed you access to the waypoints. They must treasure you greatly." He appears at your side in a matter of minutes. His tone has a hint of longing and bitterness.

It's sweet like the flavor of a childhood candy that you would sneak behind your parents backs. Almost sweet enough to make up for the starvation you would face later on as punishment.

"Instead of focusing on that, why don't you show me that private temple you created? As the Geo Archon, I hold high expectations for you."

"This temple is the one I created for me. If you want the glamorous shrine built for the mass and appearance then you're better off viewing the public one that the Qixing now control."

He walks down the hill until the grass is tall enough to cover his calves. You follow behind him and stare blankly at the plain that is covered with a healthy amount of tall marigolds. Just as you're about to repeat the question, the earth begins to rumble.

It starts with just one stone rising from the ground, until it multiplies into a roof like structure. You watch in awe as a temple surges out of the mountain with the slightest bits of dirt falling off it.

Stone of high quality and clearly careful upkeep shines with small cracks from the passage of time. Gold, silver, and bronze layer the nooks and crannies of the pillars that keep a roof over the doorway.

Marveling at it, you follow Zhongli into the temple... He couldn't kill you in it, right? Surely you could still teleport even if he locked you in it… Teleporting without using the map might not work due to the focus and effort it required, but doing it with the map has never failed you yet.

The inside was even more impressive; statues of all kinds surrounded the hallway. It was you, always you, just in different poses, clothing and materials. From thin robes crafted entirely from Cor Lapis, to suits made of Noctilucous Jade.

Arriving at what seemed to be the main room, you're greeted with a huge statue comparable to the public one in Inazuma's plaza. Sunlight bathed your statue from the skylight above it.

Your body was made of Cor Lapis decorated in an Archon-like robe made from Noctilucous Jade. A fresh Glaze Lily sat in your palm as Silk Flowers adorned your head in a crown like structure. You sat on a blue stone throne that seemed to grow brighter as you approached it. The sleek yet dense mineral looked like the magical crystal chunks you would give to the blacksmiths. 

"Be careful to not venture too close to that one, the elemental energy may leave it to join you." Zhongli warns as he steps into the middle of the room. Smiling casually to hide your amazement, you head back to him.

"What an impressive statue, the Creator is feeling quite pleased with the display but still wishes to see your true remorse." Digging into your bag, you brought out the ceremonial knife and the handbook you took notes on.

"Go get the softest cloth and lay it on the ground. This ritual is simple, you'll cut off whatever part of your body you wish to offer, pray, and wait for a response. If 10 to 20 minutes pass with no response, then you can leave it at that or offer more in hopes of a response."

Closing the book and shoving it back into your bag you offer the knife to Zhongli. He looks up from where he laid the gilded gold fabric to stare at the knife before letting out a drawl laugh.

"That knife will do little to my scales, Y/N. A ceremonial item is to be bathed in liquid gold to be used so I have more than enough weapons that can actually cut my skin."

Scoffing, you stuff the knife back in as he leaves and returns with a variety of weapons. The largest was an ax that smelled faintly of blood. Was it used to sacrifice someone not too long ago? The thought makes you uncomfortable, yet you're no longer alarmed at the thought.

My, have you changed.

You move to stand away from the center closer to the exit. Zhongli's bare hand turns to a pattern of black and amber hues. Shedding his thick coat, his flexed muscles in draconic form are left in full view.

If you were back on Earth, you would have killed to view this. An Archon’s skin was something the majority of the players wished for, for quite a while. Even now, you would love to see his true Archon form, but the thought of actually living was far more tantalizing.

Rolling up his sleeves, he chooses a sword and examines it carefully. Without fear he raises it high and slices downwards cutting his hand off cleanly. The ruby liquid sprays onto the floor as the droplets drip off his sword and dismembered limb simultaneously.

It doesn't matter how many times you witness or smell blood, it still disgusts you. The only blood you truly cherished in shedding was the one that left that man's body when you stabbed him in that cold alleyway.

His hand lands onto the expensive textile with a wet thud as the ivory bone sticks out. Zhongli lays the sword down gently resisting the urge to groan in pain. Gritting his teeth he returned his attention and gaze back to you. You, who stayed in perfect position ahead of him, clad in gems and minerals carved by his own hand.

Closing his eyes, his lips followed the adored pass time of praying with intensity. Too lost in his regret, joy, and infatuation his words slipped out clear like the perfectly carved jewels he’s crafted for you.

"My god, my god. For I have sinned against you so. The mistakes I cannot fix or change, I pray for your forgiveness." Your unmoving, unchangeable eyes stared at him with an expression so familiar to him, one who worshiped you in this temple for centuries.

"From allowing myself to be tricked, to the lack of devotion I felt to you in Guizhong's death and finally with how I treated a servant of yours with disdain. Envious, I am envious to an extent that I shouldn't hold to my righteous god like you. Even now I still haven't broken the habit of referring to you as 'my' god."

Once again, just like the first time, Teyvat seems to overwhelm you with his feelings. You stare at his back as his lips murmur the words of devotion without an end in sight. Silently, you accept his offering, this first one was only to put the last nail in the coffin of you being an oracle. 

The sky darkens as Zhongli's hand crumbles into a pile of primogems that dissolve into the air. Blue and purple stars dance across the sky as a lone gold star makes its way closer. 

You didn't plan to always accept his offerings. After all you did lose a 50/50 to him and was forced to put up with his paranoid possessiveness in regards to your creator self. Shouldn't you make him lose a few times to even the score?

The gold star shines brighter and bigger as Zhongli gazes at it with a smile purer than anything he's ever felt since his creation at your hands. It flies through the window enveloping him and the whole room with a beaming light.

--------------

When his eyes open, the skylight shows the sunny sky but he can already feel his connection to you stronger. The brilliance you bore shines beautifully in him like a star he wished to keep hidden for only him to see.

It worked, it worked! There is no need for him to be wary or envious of you for claiming to be so close to the creator anymore. In fact, you were a sign specifically designed for someone like him. A sign that the creator had not grown complacent in simply watching Teyvat, you were now showing interest in coming back soon. And through you, he can find out details about the creator that were kept secret all these millennia.

A wide and joyful grin is bared with obsession tangling within it. He turns his head to where you stood and his smile drops abruptly when all he's greeted with is an empty spot. 

He built this temple for him and the creator to enjoy in privacy due to his possessive nature born from his dragon lineage, yet the sight of Y/N who up and vanished after fulfilling their duty struck his core like the abyssal gunk that used to constantly corrupt his body.

You may have left, you may think that he wouldn't treat you, a fellow devoted servant well due to his earlier behavior. And he understands that, he truly does but that simply means he has to rectify his mistake before it's too late. You were a mere human while him, a god. 

Finding you before any terrible consequences from his mistakes won't take too long.

-------------------

Unaware of the dragon's changing tune, you eye the Dragon-Queller tree from outside the temple with interest. After all the work you've done thus far, indulging yourself with a nice close up of the magnificent landmark would be a good treat for yourself.

This one took a while and it was edited by the same jerk. I really hope all the work was worth it and that the next part can be done faster. But as my college is starting this early Sep, it might be even longer. Genshin's lore is a hot mess so I tried my best to keep it simple while touching on the important parts. All the lore I put in is almost completely accurate. If you don't include the sagau parts. If your name is italic then that means I couldn't tag you. I manually put everyone so hopefully this fixes the notifications problems. Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername, @zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @millienolife, @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0

[p0rk-guts]

"Pork you literally posted Charlie a few days ago why are you so Hazbin obsessed rn-" ssshhhhshhsshhs.h........ anyway

VAGGIE REDESIGN! And I changed her name also bc I'm jus like everyone else fr. Meet Verbena :)

BREAKDOWN BELOW!👇🏾+ Exorcist uniform redesign :3

Starting with her name this time. Back when she was still a sinner apparently she was Salvadorian and since she's (apparently?) not a former human at all I decided to take a small creative liberty with her decent and made her Venezualan instead. SOUTH AMERICUH❗❗✊🏾 I'm pretty sure Verbena flowers are native to South America so that's where the name comes from.

Onto the design! I don't have much to say abt her design honestly. It's not egregious, but it doesn't really speak to me either. It looks like simple formal wear or uniform with some strange meaningless accessories attached. And those weird itty bitty shoes that look like they're part of her thigh highs... I'm starting to think all the characters's shoes were a last minute afterthought. All and all it tells us nothing about her character. The hair wings are cool tho so I did steal those

Also the whole deal with her eye is strange to me. Why Is the floating X there??? It's a real physical part of the world, other people can see it. Do pink X's always float over angel wounds? If her arm got chopped off would an X float over it? Was it like. A fucking curse visual placed by Lute as a constant reminder of her disloyalty? Why did Carmilla point out it was an obvious marker for her being an angel???? My brain can't fathom why it's canonically attached to her wound. If she was a sinner I'd kinda understand but. Yeah idk. Weird

Also her missing eye does not look like an empty socket it looks like a purple circle was sticker pasted on to her face. It's very flat. How did we go from this

to this

(IT'S EVEN OVERLAPPING ONTO HER NOSE IN THIS SCREENSHOT WHAT IS THAT THING.)

Anyway. I made her hair resemble Polyphemus moth wings because 1. They have eye looking spots and angels are all eyes and 2. Well. Polyphemus has 1 eye. So . 💀

Her overall coloring however is inspired by a Promethea moth. I could say it's because Prometheus defied the gods and Verbena did a similar thing but the real reason is I made a spelling error while initially looking for a Polyphemus moth reference 💀 but hey they both have eye spots! And Iike their coloring for her way better

I also redesigned the exorcist uniform for her redesign bc I wanted her outfit to have reminiscent elements from it.

I gave way less time to the uniform designs, but I still had some main details I wanted to adress. I don't like how they have no armor save for their helmets. Their arm and leg pieces are made of some flexible material that tears easily. It's not giving soldier it's giving soldier costume from party city. The devil like horns are also confusing to see on an angel and the paradoxical design is never addressed. They can be evil and look imposing, but the horns just seem kinda nonsensically on the nose to show how evil they are. At least to me.

In my designs I gave them actual metal armor on their bodies so you can easily tell they're soldiers and it makes sense for them to battle in armor anyway. I also gave them more light "angelic" colors with gold details bc I wanna use gold as a symbol of angelic nature in my rewrite. I wanted their masks to show completely static expressions with wide grins to show how unnerving they are and to allude to the idea that everyone is happy in heaven, and they're all happy to do what they do.

Verbena's belt and shoulder pads draw visual similarities to the pauldrons and mid section pieces in my new exorcist uniforms to draw a connection between her and her past. The Blazer draping behind her back is also supposed to mimic the visual of folded wings. I also tried to do this with all the gold details in her design. The big hoops and belt we're 80's inspired because I decided to follow how in one of her old designs she died in the 60's (even had the big hoops and everything). In my rewrite exorcists are all former humans but I'll get into that later. Also she's got an eye patch now! Just. A normal one.

Charlie is still taller than Verbena just like in the original and idk how tall Vaggie Is exactly but Verbena is like 5'5 while Charlie is 5'11. Verbena's also got more muscle on her bc unless their muscle mass is hidden magically or they don't gain muscle for stupid dumb idiot lore reasons all the exorcists look way too slim to be military grade soldiers but what do I know

I combined a lot of pointy shapes with boxy shapes bc— more similarly to her pilot self— she can be volatile and fierce but also grounded and impassive. I added the slits to her skirt so she can be a sexy formal lady who can still comfortably throw a few kicks, and the heels— well. Idk I feel like she could slay in heels! She definitely doesn't wear em all the time but yeah. Chunky heels. I like them they're cute. Also she's got her little name tag on bc she takes Charlie's job for her SERIOUSLY! she's uh. Idk what is she. A bellhop? General security/protection? Either way she's locked in.

I imagine she had white irises like Adam and Lute along with brighter more saturated and heavenly colors in her hair (color picked from the Polyphemus moth) that turned darker and more harsh after the fall (color picked from the Promethea moth). Really visualizing her emo phase /j

Also I think the little eyes in her hair can emote with her. In the final design the line kinda makes an eyelid and it'd match her eyelid's movements. Sillay

Alright that's a wrap on my Vaggie redesign! No bonus sketches this time bc they're within the texts! Who knows what I'll do next. Who I will deface. I sure don't. I think I might rename Charlie so there's that. Anywhozies hope you like her <3

[baldval]

okay so who here remembers Vark vox’s ADORABLE 😍 dog like shark pet? Well what about a reader x Vox where Vox was taking vark out for a walk and vark managed to get loose and Vox is freaking out but fortunately find vark playing and slobbering on reader is is now also in love with the adorable dog like shark and then Vox and reader fall in love thanks to vark. Kinda like the beginning of 101 dalmation. either way I love vark and find him absolutely adorable and hope to find more Vox x reader that includes some vark because I love both of them 🥰

ROGER MEETS ANITA!₊˚⊹♡

characters: vox x gn!reader

wc: 741

warnings: curse words, SLIGHT gore

"Vox could you please take care of your fucking beast?" Velvette shouts from the living room. "I swear that thing just won't stop barking."

"What even is that? Why is a shark fucking barking?" Val adds. That's when Vox goes out of his office, rolling his eyes.

"We are literally in hell. You are basically a moth and your question is why a shark can bark?" Vox walks over to the closet were he keeps Vark's leash. It's a crimson red with small lightnings in blue colour.

"You know we can hire someone to do that for you right?" Valentino asks, serving himself a cup of a pink liquid Vox can't bother to know what it is.

"Oh let him be. You know he likes to do it." Velvette answers, defending Vox.

"I'm just saying, if it's bothering us, we should be able to do something about it." Valentino walks over towards Vox. "Like, I don't know, using our money to make someone take him out for a walk?"

"It's my shark and I choose what to do with it." Vox straps the leash on Vark's collar. "Now piss off and let me leave."

"I'm just saying what I think, having that thing is stupid." Vox glares at him before opening the door and basically running through the stairs, Vark's strength pulling him. "Vark, come on. Take it easy! What's all the hurry?"

Vark looks around the area and sees something that resembled a pigeon eating what seemed to be some sinners insides. He runs towards it, basically carrying Vox with him. "Seriously Vark, slow down." Vark doesn't do that.

"You know what. It's over." He pulls Vark and ties him up to a bench. He shakes some of the dirt he catched from running off his suit before sitting down, not noticing the person besides him.

"Oh." You say. The dog-like shark had grabbed your hat and was currently playing with it. Vox turns to look at you, and then to Vark.

"Oh come on, Vark, not again."

"Again?" You chuckle, amused at the situation.

Vox grunts as he tries to force the hat out of the shark's mouth.

"I'm... So... So..." He says between groans. "Sorry!" Vox finally manages to take it out of Vark's mouth, however, a small piece of the hat is ripped. "You're kidding? Please pardon me, I-" He turns to look at you, but stops talking as soon as his eyes meet yours.

You're laughing, he likes your laugh.

"Oh it's okay, don't worry" You say, smiling at him "I didn't even like it that much anyway."

He seems surprised by your words, still staring at you.

"Oh no, really, please allow me to repay you in some way." His demeanour suddenly changing as he grins. "Vark has been such a bad boy today."

"Really. I don't mind. It's just a hat." Vox tsks as he stands up and gets closer to you.

"Oh, no, no, no, my Vark can't just destroy such a beautiful person's hat and get away with it, oh no." He's now smirking, and you can't help but chuckle as you look away.

"Genuinely, don't worry. I love... pets!" You crouch in order to pet the shark.

"Don't!" He shouts. "He-" Vox stops his sentence as he sees the way Vark is just slobbering all over you, your hands scratching his ears as he pretty much smiled.

You turn to look at him, not stopping your actions. "Is something wrong?"

"Umm... not really... It's just that, Vark tends to electrocute strangers." He says, still in awe of what's happening before him.

"Really? He seems like such a sweetheart." You smile, looking at the shark.

Vox bends down beside you, joining you in your game with Vark.

After a while, he turns to look at you, your faces a lot closer than what Vox expected.

"No, but really. Please let me do something to pay you back for the hat." He stands up, offering you his hand for help, which you gladly take. "You must want something."

"I mean... what could you offer me?" It's your turn to smirk.

Vox doesn't miss the flirting and smirks back.

"Well... There's this restaurant that I truly love. And..." He's now staring at your eyes as you try not to blush. "I think you'll love it too."

Maybe Vark was annoying sometimes, but it was totally worth it in Vox's eyes if it meant that he was going on a date with you.

[mmavverickk]

During the period of changing tides twice a month, Poseidon's children have a small [in fact, just huge, save yourself who can].... a shift resembling menstruation.

their skin turns pale and becomes covered with a thin layer of scales, they also experience symptoms such as increased appetite, emotional instability, bone aches, body pain, inability to move, apathy, irritability drowsiness and much more.

this condition usually lasts 4 days or a maximum of a week.

ok that's cool but it gives me a slightly different idea:

poseidon's children change with the tides.

a spring tide is called a King Tide. the waves spring forth, grow in power and size. high tides are larger, hit harder; low tides are smaller, more gentle. there is more variation between the highest highs and the lowest lows. the sun and moon work in tandem to push the sea.

during a spring tide, poseidon's children are louder, more boisterous, more confident. they are always natural leaders, but during spring tides, it's easy to imagine them born to lead, leaping from the womb to the battlefield in little less than a breath. they sleep deeper, more restfully, and their circadian rhythm syncs with the low tides. nothing can touch a child of poseidon during a spring tide. nothing can bring them down. they could be immortal, gods themselves, powerful and inspiring and strong.

a neap tide happens not long after. the sun and moon are at odds, pulling the waters in different directions. the highs and lows don't vary as much, stay closer to baseline. the ocean is more moderate in temperament.

neap tides result in the children of poseidon acting more docile. the oceans are calmer, and they reflect it. it's harder to rile them up, harder to upset them, harder to make them laugh uncontrollably. it's harder to see them as a leader, a general, rather than a cold, calculating strategist. could they really be both? they sleep differently, shorter amounts more often; train differently, more geared toward endurance than speed; plan differently, more reserved and reactive than offensive and explosive.

a tsunami sees poseidon's children at the height of their power. it's as if they've forgotten they were ever mortal. the ocean recedes, preparing to swell to colossal sizes, and poseidon's children grow quieter with it. anticipation buzzes in their veins, excitement keeps them unable to be still. the closer the tidal wave gets the more they seem to grow, their presence almost overwhelming, their laughter too much for their lungs, their words to loud for their mouths, their actions too sharp and jagged and powerful to be human. they look like gods; they look like monsters.

they could be either.

[williaml0ver]

FIRST KISSES WITH GANJI MAYBE?!?!?

☆ <3 Kisses with Ganji Gupta ☆ <3

[🖇️] word count: 1089

[🖇️] warnings: g/n reader, angst to comfort, fluff, touch starved Ganji, kith kith

[🖇️] author's note: i can't believe i posted two fics in a span of two days hello?? Anyways thank you so much for this lovely request pookie, i'm sorry for this being shorter than my usual lenght for posts :( i would steal a horse for you if you told me to 🫂 GANJI NATION RISE. I love this boy so much omg....

☆ ☆ ☆

-Ganji particularly strikes me as the type of a lover who may struggle with showing affection through physical touch at first. But when he becomes used to it, realizes he likes it? He'd be obsessed!

-At first, his way of proving his love is simply being there for you. Listening to your thoughts, confessions and rants, making sure you're aware your opinion matters to him. You matter to him.

-He'd overall prefer for his love to know that they have a trustworthy, capable of protecting man you could always lean on when in need.

-For Ganji, this looks like a perfect stance to take. You will feel safe, loved and comforted, yes?

-This in fact, does can lead to a missunderstanding, especially if you're really fond of physical touch in your relationship. But what you cannot do is blame Ganji. He was a boy raised in solitude, someone who was taken advantage of and mistreated. Love is still a fairly foreign thing for him.

-Something shifts deep inside the batter when you two become a thing, he just doesn't know what exactly yet. He's new to this... feeling, he isn't sure what is he supposed to provide for you.

-Even if you don't resemble a person who finds happiness in taking the lead, you should direct him a little. Just be honest and voice your needs. He may have troubles with opening up to you - he doesn't want you to worry, but he will open up if you reassure him that you want to be a safe space for your boyfriend.

-Don't get it wrong, if you hugged him in his or your room, he would act awkward but wouldn't push you away.

-The direct affection is rather one sided at the start. Ganji accepts, but does not initiate at all.

-But near someone? He wouldn't push you away either, but he'd show clear signs of discomfort. He's not ready for public displays of affection just yet. He wants to be treated seriously by other survivors, in fact, he does enjoy how some avoid him and fear him.

-You have to get to know him before.

-When it comes to touching, start slowly. Don't demand things too fast. Let Ganji adaptate in slow, little steps. He'd feel mostly overwhelmed if you decide to let out all your love inside you all at once.

-All those small things, like you insisting on gentle hand holding, hair petting, make Ganji's senses wake up from deep slumber. He wants to protect you, but he also begins to want to experience the feeling of safeness.

-He suddenly starts waiting for your small touches. After matches, he mindlessly comes to you and desires to be held, comforted. He doesn't know why. It just feels right, feels good.

-It does make him feel better and more open to closeness.

-One thing about Ganji, he struggles with expressing his cravings. He feels like he doesn't deserve anything. It really is a miracle you even wanted to treat such a monster as a lover.

-Step by step, you start being more intimate with him. He'd let you lay on him, grounding him when sleeping today.

-He wishes for more and more from you, but Ganji is afraid of it. What if you'll be dissapointed and think he's weak? The thought of you leaving terrifies his poor heart.

-At some point, to your surprise, he just breaks down. He's crying, hardly breathing and whimpering. All he ever wanted was to be loved.

-Please, wipe his tears away, comfort him, touch him. Ganji needs it more than ever.

-Not putting much thought into it, you kiss the batter on his lips. It activates something in both of you. Yes, you've exchanged touches before, but this one feels so deeply personal. It makes your relationship, Ganji feel... complete.

-Everything he ever defended, protected, fought for... that one moment made the pain worth it all.

-That one kiss resulted in a big explosion of Ganji's wild passion towards your person. He is now allowed to shower you with something he longed to do ever since you met, but had to bottle it up.

-Ganji takes kisses very seriously. He'd feel honoured if his lover wanted to do it.

-No one ever made him feel so flustered.

-He was so passionate. You were the one to kiss him, but he quickly took control of the kiss. He's never done that before, but you felt otherwise. You've stayed this way for the next hour.

-You felt like you gave him the kiss of life. His eyes brightened up, his smile is wide, you felt like it's all Ganji's world and you're just living in it.

-Each kiss from him feels like it's his last meal on earth ever.

-He felt like a completely new person that day. You two were already very close, but his sudden burst of affection made your love go over to the roof. No, the stars above.

-Not long after, he starts treating you back with light caresses on your soft skin. Ganji doesn't even hide the fact that he is touch starved.

-He discovers he prefers showing you his devotion through touch, rather than doing it verbally.

-Make sure you kiss him goodnight and also for good luck in his matches <3

-You discovered it's easier to convince him with giving small kisses.

"Look, love, I could take you somewhere else, i'm not really a fan of cinema, you know?"

*kith kith noises*

"Oh... I... I mean, of course, I'd love to go."

-He's got a poker face for sure. It's sometimes hard for you to read him, imagine how difficult it has to be to other survivors...

-You noticed his face is actually very responsive during kissing time.

-You keep teasing him about blushing. He denies it all the time.

-You woke up from a nap? A kiss on your forehead. He heroically carried the entire match? Proud kisses on his mouth. Mind you, he's obssesed.

-He'd appreciate every kiss you offer. His personal favourite place to kiss you is on your cheeks, meanwhile you love to pamper his cleavage with kisses.

-Make sure to kiss his scars!!! Ganji is exceptionally insecure about them. Feeling your mouth on those little atrocities makes him feel loved for who he is, not for the scary persona he tries to become near people.

-Speaking of people, he surprisingly becomes very possesive. He doesn't mind PDA, in fact, he wants everyone to know that you're taken by the batter - Ganji Gupta.

☆ ☆ ☆

Take a look at this shrek plushie i've digged up in a thrift store lately... okay it's 2am goodnight guys

[anatee]

Fantasy | Kylo Ren x Reader Smut

Fantasy | Kylo Ren x Reader Smut One Shot. 18+. MINORS DNI.

Word count: 4.3K

Content warning: fem!reader x Kylo; a few curse words; jealous, possessive Kylo, one tiny bit of violence (not smut-related), inappropriate use of the Force, smut: thigh riding, fingering, oral (f receiving), size difference (and kink ig lol), piv (unprotected), filth really

Author’s note: What bothers me in many Kylo smuts is that he is excessively ruthless. And while I do agree this man is no softie in bed, sometimes the degradation goes so far it’s actually a turn-off to me, so here we have this, the man’s still the leader but doesn’t make you feel like scum ig

"Why did you invite me here?"

Y/N was still shocked she found herself in Kylo Ren's quarters. They had known each other even before she became a First Order soldier, but it was the first time she got to visit him. She didn't know why: ever since she started her military career, she saw him only a few times, and always with his mask on, either arguing with General Hux or walking aggressively maker knows where.

They didn't even talk much, busy with their own duties, however this part changed two weeks earlier. He started approaching her often, talking to her even if he didn't need to and, eventually, asked to come with him. She followed him gladly, but in utter shock at the same time, not quite understanding what he was trying to achieve.

Yet there she was, alone with him in the private quarters while almost everyone else on the ship was going to bed.

It was the first time she was even near his room. Twice the size of her quarters, it was mostly black with red accents just like every interior of the First Order. Everything was dimly lit by one source of light, and it didn't seem like he wanted it any brighter. He gestured for her to sit on a metallic, circular chair while he approached a weird piece of furniture resembling a well filled with ashes instead of water. And then, to her surprise, he took his helmet off to put it there.

He turned to face her, making her jaw drop. She had seen him before, of course, but it was a long time ago. He matured a lot.

"Wow," she breathed out before she could stop herself. "I... I almost forgot how you look like."

"You like it?" he asked with a smirk dancing on the corners of his mouth.

This question made her gulp, because she knew about the Force, she knew that Kylo could read her mind like an open book if he wanted. He even tried to show her the ways of the Force years before, but it wasn't strong with her. That's why she worried...

She worried he knew how attractive she had always found him, and now even more so. Black, thick hair, broad shoulders, the face that looked young and mature at the same time. He was much more pleasant to look at without the mask, although the act of taking it off was hot by itself.

"Is this your way of asking if you're attractive to me?" she retorted, trying to save herself as her First Order uniform suddenly became much warmer.

"You've been on my mind recently."

Her heart jumped for a moment. She threw her ponytail back, but even though she didn't have her hat on anymore, it still felt very hot... And she wanted to keep it cool.

"Is that so? Why?" She raised an eyebrow, engulfed in a weird feeling. She hadn't looked him in the eye for a long time and it made her heart race.

"I saw you have been talking to this one guy lately."

"You mean Admiral Fando?" 

Kylo's face was almost expressionless. "Whatever his name is."

"Well, yes, he approaches me often. Tries to be funny, I sup..."

"I don't like him talking to you," Kylo cut her off sharply, rendering her speechless for a moment. She thought she had long forgotten the feelings she used to have for him before joining the army, but when he was saying things like this, it was impossible to stay calm.

She cleared her throat eventually. "Why?"

At that moment, as if she weren't shocked enough by everything he was doing, he sat beside her, making her feel extremely small, both literally and metaphorically. He was huge next to her... And one could almost feel the power vibrating, whirling all around him. It must have been part of why he was so intimidating.

His face was less than ten inches from hers as he leaned towards her to say quietly:

"Because I don't like any man trying to court you."

She swallowed hard, because even if it weren't her he was threatening, he looked murderous, and she knew what he was capable of. "You think he's trying to?"

"Don't be delusional, Y/N. Why else would he do this?"

She knew this question would be very risky, but she asked nevertheless.

"And why are you doing this?" She looked down, then back up at him, trying to understand the situation they found themselves in.

There was a moment of silence, silence so tense Y/N feared they might lose oxygen from the room soon. Kylo was piercing her with his gaze, so intensely it almost made her dizzy.

"You know that I can hear your thoughts. I don't look into them at all, but once... Once they were so loud..."

He moved his face closer to speak straight to her ear. The moment she felt his hot breath tingle her skin, she was hopeless; she had a strong inkling she knew what kind of thoughts he was talking about, and waiting for the confirmation like for a sentence.

"I know your fantasy," he whispered in his deep voice. "I know about everything you want to be done to you. I heard it loud and clear."

Each word was almost like a separate touch between her legs. 

Suddenly everything made sense. The dates aligned - she remembered that night her thoughts went wild, her mind playing out every erotic scenario she wanted to experience while she pleasured herself on her bed, but didn't even get half the satisfaction she wished for. Little did she know it made him realise how much he desired her, how much he wanted to act out his own dreams with her, and he decided he would make it happen.

Y/N was surprised herself, but she was not embarrassed at all while listening to him - on the contrary, it was turning her on, and the only fear she had was that he knew her emotions.

"Well, thinking that is not an offence..." she replied breathily, not daring to think he had something else on his mind other than scolding her, even if deep down she wanted him to have.

"That's not what I'm talking about."

He was still speaking against her ear, craning his neck from time to time to watch the expression on her face. Her lips were parted, her gaze half-lidded, and he was intoxicated by that view. Eventually, he decided he wanted to see more of it.

He put his cold, gloved hand on her hot cheek, and the feeling of the leather itself sent a shiver down her spine. All of this was the last thing she expected to be doing that day - but she wished it would never end. He never acted like this, but he always had an effect on her...

He guided her head gently so she would face him, the subtle touch almost igniting a flame between them. She was sure that if he had no gloves on, it would drive her crazy.

After a moment of silence, Kylo spoke while looking right into her eyes. "You're talking to this guy... Do you think he can do it? Do you think he can make you feel as good as you want? Do you think he could fulfil your fantasy?"

His gaze alone was penetrating her, petrifying her completely as the provoking questions echoed against the walls of the spacious room.

She gave in.

"It's not him whom I'd like to fulfil it with."

That sentence alone made him heave a sigh as blood rushed through his entire body. He didn't even need to use the Force; her eyes told him everything he wanted to know.

"Who, then?" he asked even though the answer was right there, in the way she gazed at him.

They both felt that question between their legs.

The only thing stopping him from ripping clothes off of her was that he wanted to do this right, especially now that he knew she desired him just as much. Besides, he would love to catch her off guard one day...

"You could have just told me," he said, making her snort.

"You could have not entered my thoughts."

"You will thank me for doing this," he whispered against her lips, making her heart stop for a split second. She was anticipating something, anything, any touch, words, any action from him, hoping beyond hope he would let the lust from his eyes take over.

He brushed his gloved finger over her bottom lip, trying not to give into the frenzy too quickly. A smirk formed on his face as he was already planning what he'd do to her.

"Let's meet again soon."

He left her that day with arousal, disappointment and anticipation all at the same time.

The next few days were a hell to go through. Kylo Ren didn't leave her thoughts not even for a second, making focusing on her duties almost impossible. But how could she not be thinking about him when she remembered the words he had told her with the velvety voice, when the feeling of his hand still seemed to linger on her cheek? She was constantly alerted, just waiting for the moment he decides to take her back to his quarters.

To make matters worse, he realised what she was daydreaming about, and he absolutely loved it. He made sure she saw him every day so both of them would crave the other person even more, and he was just waiting for the best opportunity to show her that only he could give her the pleasure she had fantasised about.

The opportunity presented itself one calm evening, almost two weeks later, when the tension between them was so high both Kylo and Y/N wanted to throw themselves on the other at any given moment. That evening, she finished her shift and intended to go straight to her room to rest, but Admiral Fando approached her before she could even leave her console. 

"Where are you headed?"

"To my quarters, where else?" she replied in a surprised tone as she stood up from her chair.

"Well, you look and smell exceptionally well today, I thought you had some other plans." He smiled at her, and she was given yet another confirmation Kylo was right about him.

But she did look and smell better. Ever since her tense encounter with Ren, she tried to take better care of her appearance, should he decide to invite her again. She shaved herself to the root and used the most deliciously smelling lotion she could access.

"Thank you, but that is just me caring about myself," she replied, making sure everything was in place for the shift coming after her.

"But if you don't have any other plans... Then maybe you'll come and visit my quarters instead."

And Kylo Ren heard that. Every word, loud and clear, even though he was far away from where Fando was standing. It railed him up immediately; this was the moment. He couldn't wait anymore.

Y/N was flabbergasted. She suspected he might eventually ask her this, but had no idea how to react once it happened.

"That is a bit unprofessional, isn't it, Admiral?" she replied half seriously, half jokingly, trying to get out of the situation.

"Oh, come on. I'm not asking anything weird," he continued. "We can just drink tea and talk."

Y/N let out a sigh. She wanted to refuse, but it was quite complicated since he was her superior and it felt like it was against the protocol.

"It's very nice of you, but I..."

"Come on, Y/N," he cut her off, moving closer to her. "I know you're not taken. Do not act unavaila..."

He trailed off because a loud gasp escaped her lips, one that was unexpected by both parties.

"What's going on?" Fando frowned.

Y/N wished she could explain. Just a moment before, she felt something touch her, like an invisible hand, right between her legs. A shiver of pleasure went down her as she realised whose hand it must have been.

Before she even opened her mouth to respond, her heart racing, she sensed presence somewhere behind herself... And soon, a man in a mask was towering over her and Fando, wrath radiating from him.

It all happened in a split second. One move of Kylo's hand was enough; Fando was thrown against the wall, then fell to the floor with a yelp of pain. Ren didn't even give him a second glance as he spoke to Y/N again:

"Follow me."

She did not dare disobey him, did not dare to check on Fando who was whimpering on the floor... She followed Ren step by step to his quarters, and the moment the door closed behind them, he cornered her.

"I told you it would come to this," he said with disappointment, trapping her between the wall and his body, enveloping her in the feeling of smallness.

"He approached me first, I just replied." She intended to respond loudly and proudly, but her voice failed her as he inched closer.

"Then I'll show you," he grabbed the sides of his helmet and took it off aggressively, "why you shouldn't even reply to scum like him." He threw the helmet into the ashes, his eyes never leaving hers.

She suppressed a shiver as he put a gloved hand under her chin. Her eyes, wide and full of admiration, were staring back at him, and he couldn't get enough of that view.

He smirked. "I should have done this sooner."

"Then stop talking and start doing already. You left me waiting for so long," she said before she could stop herself, making him sneer.

"Cocky, aren't you?" He took his hand back. "Why don't we change that?"

For a split second, fear overtook her as he took a step back, and she had no idea what he was about to do. He threw his cape off, then put one of his hands in front of him, brows furrowed in concentration.

Two invisible hands cupped her breasts at the same time, pulling out a gasp out of her yet again. This further confirmed he was the one responsible for what she felt back at the bridge. It was such a weird sensation, but a pleasurable one, something being there and not existing at the same time, vibrating, pulsating against her body while he wasn't touching her at all. He had never done this to her before.

"I-" She sighed heavily, trying to form a sentence as the large hands massaged her breasts. "I didn't know you- you could do that."

He clearly enjoyed these words as he smirked again. "See? You've underestimated me... Not the first person who has..."

He moved closer to her, maintaining the Force touch - and it made her want to act, too.

"You underestimate me as well, Kylo."

She stood on her tiptoes to grab him by the neck and bring him to her lips. Caught by surprise, he lost focus for a split second, but then quickly seized the initiative again. His invisible hands were untying her hair and taking off her hat or gloves, while his real ones were roaming her body, looking for openings in her uniform.

Minutes passed and she was beginning to lose her breath. She had never thought he'd be kissing her, yet there she was, letting his tongue in anywhere he wanted.

He eventually grabbed her buttock with his one hand and her thigh with the other, raising it so she would wrap it around him. When she did, his arm travelled to her nape, and he held it tight to kiss her hungrily. Hell, fire was flowing through him while he was doing it. Who knew her taste would be so addictive, her lips so soft he could nibble and lick them constantly? Had he known all of this, he would have been devouring her ages ago.

His kisses were hungry and demanding, making her dizzy, but that was just what she wanted. At that moment, she was so drunk on his taste, scent and noises she would allow him to do anything to her. Each of his sharp breaths, loud grunts to keep focus on the Force, the strong, fresh scent that lingered on his body... All of these things made her notice him and him only.

"Fuck," she whimpered against his lips when his real hand slipped underneath her pants. He immediately circled her clit through the material of her panties, causing her to buckle her hips.

He let out a triumphant laugh. "Look at you, and I haven't even started yet..."

The invisible hands took off her boots, and then her pants, roughly, almost causing her to lose balance. Kylo pulled her towards the circular to sit on it, and then made her settle on his thigh.

It was huge. She felt it well as she straddled it, heat from between her legs already spreading throughout her half-dressed body. She knew what he was doing; it was a picture taken straight from her mind, one of many he must have seen...

"I don't think I have to tell you your own fantasy..." he said, planting a kiss on her neck. "Ride it," he added in a commanding voice. He meant it.

The first thrust of her hips pulled a moan out of both of them. When she noticed it was already much more pleasurable than rubbing herself against furniture, she grabbed his arms as tightly as possible to steady herself and began moving back and forth.

The friction did it for him. The invisible hands took her shirt off, while the real ones grabbed her hips strongly enough to leave marks on them. She didn't restrain herself from any noises, and they turned him on more than he thought they would; his pants becoming tighter on him was the best proof of it.

That's why he didn't let her do it for long. Without any warning, he cradled her in his arms and took her to his bed. He let her lie down on the black sheets as he stood in front of her, enjoying the view - she was already soaked, just like his thigh.

"I'm taking whatever I want now," he announced to her, looking her up and down with no shame.

She just smirked, because from her new position she could see the bulge in his pants, one she knew she caused. Who knew she could have such an effect on the Kylo Ren?

"Do it," she replied with no hesitation, craving for him.

He took his gloves off and tossed them to the floor before kneeling in front of the bed. Her heart stopped just for a moment; was he really going to do it? Was he going to fulfil her another fantasy this easily?

The answer came instantly - the Force pulled her panties down, and he used his bare hands to grab her thighs to open her legs. Flesh to flesh, the sensations were even more overwhelming.

She closed her eyes, waiting for what's to come and let out a squeal when he planted a kiss on her inner thigh, massaging them at the same time.

"Open your eyes, look what's coming for you," he demanded. "He wouldn't be able to do to you what I'm about to..."

She obeyed and saw his face for a split second before his mouth came in contact with her clit. A very long lick was followed by an absolute madness of licks and sucking, almost like he took his time to prepare for it. He wanted to make her shake, and it quickly turned out it was the right way to do it as he saw her grab at the sheets out of pleasure.

The moment she moaned out his name, Kylo became drunk on the control he had over her. He let go of one of her thighs to speed up the process of her becoming undone...

"You feel good?" he asked right before sliding two fingers inside her, earning himself the loudest moan yet.

She couldn't think straight enough to give him a cohesive answer. She grabbed him by his thick hair, burying his face in her. "Fuck, Kylo."

He snorted with satisfaction. "I'll take that as a yes."

He soon added a third finger to pump in and out of her, remembering the number from her thoughts. Even she, however, didn't expect them to be this big. The sensations were indescribable; his tongue nor his fingers didn't slow down for a second, making her think she was about to have an orgasm and a heart attack.

She came. She came for the first time in months, because she couldn't quite reach that level of pleasure herself. A powerful orgasm rocked through her, her legs shaking, her breath shallow, and at that moment she was sure no other man than Kylo Ren could make her feel like that. Maybe it was the Force, maybe it was his size, maybe it was her desire for him - either way, she hadn't even hoped it would feel this good.

He let her ride it out to the end, then stood up, his face and fingers glistening - the proof of her satisfaction.

She began sitting up slowly, trying to catch her breath. "Kylo, I-"

"Stay where you are." He pressed her back into the mattress with a wave of his arm. "I am not done. I want you to not be able to think about anything else than this."

Y/N didn't even get to cool down and she was already turned on again. She watched in awe as he removed his pants and boxers, revealing his erected cock without any shame. Her mouth fell agape; not only because it was the first time seeing him naked, but also because it meant he intended to go as far as they could.

He looked at her with authority, clasping a hand around his length - as a result, she felt even smaller than in reality. If he were to interrogate her, she would be cowering, but at that moment, she was excited and waiting.

"Now, can you give me one more?" he asked quietly, his voice working wonders on her.

"Depends on what you're about to do."

"Make you beg," he used the Force to open her legs even wider, "for more."

Before she could respond, he started slowly rubbing his cock along her cunt, letting out a grunt that made her roll her eyes back. It went on for a few seconds, the sound of the wetness echoing in the room and arousing them even more.

And then, without warning, he slid into her with just the tip, then pulled out quickly. He repeated that a few times, slowly driving her insane.

"Kylo... Please..."

That's what he wanted to hear.

"Tell me what you want and you'll get it."

She gulped. The perspective of telling him what was on her mind seemed humiliating, especially that he knew exactly what she wished for.

She tried to save herself. "I cannot give orders to you."

As she expected, he did not buy it.

"Say what you want. That is my order," he replied, moving the tip once more to stimulate her further.

She closed her eyes as if bracing for impact. Alright. She could do it. It were mere words separating from another wave of pleasure. They were nothing compared to the fact that she was lying there with her legs open for him, weren't they?

She took one last deep breath. "I want you inside me."

He smiled with satisfaction. "As I thought."

He ended her torture as promised. He slid into her, slowly, because it was a lot; after all, nothing about him was small-sized.

She thought he would stay standing, but it wasn't the case. Right after a few of the first thrusts, he put his hands on either side of her body and continued dragging his body passionately, making sure to fill her up completely each time. She felt unbelievable.

"Who is making you feel good now?" he asked after hearing a moan from her, trying to hide the grunts of pleasure which were taking over him as well. "Who is the only person who can?" he rasped, keeping his head close to her neck to kiss it.

"You." She breathed heavily, her whole body shifting on the bed with each of his movements. "Only you."

He used the Force to keep himself steady and grabbed her wrists with his hands, pinning them over her head just to feel even a bit more of control. There was no mercy in his thrusts, ones he had been waiting for for days, the sexual tension finally resolving.

She didn't know if she were to have another orgasm, but he was certainly coming to one. She could hear and feel it as the powerful thrusts became sloppier, and the loudest grunt yet escaped his lips.

"You'll take it all," he almost growled, "for me."

That was his last warning before he reached his peak, letting all of it fill her up. It was insane, the whole scene, the emotions, the sounds of their breathing in the spacious room...

He placed one last desire-filled kiss on her lips, then stood up eventually, pulling out of her, leaving her with her wrists burning. She had no energy to raise again, and he stood there, watching with triumph how his cum flowed out of her.

For a moment, there was a silence, in which they both tried to regain rational thinking... And realise what had just happened, and that there was no turning back - but neither of them regretted it, not even a second. They both got what they wanted and were already thinking about repeating it.

Kylo used the Force once more to pull her closer, then put his hand under her chin again.

"You're not going to even think about anyone else now, are you?" 

She smirked, still feeling his cum dripping down her thigh. "Is that your way of saying you want me only for yourself?"

"You're so right."

[swannieluv]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖꩜ Hide and Seek – (PLATONIC) Wanderer x Child!Reader

✦⸼࣪⸳𝐆𝐍!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 <3

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐜: 1,4k

✦⸼࣪⸳ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆!!: none.

✦⸼࣪⸳ A/N: HI MOOTIE!! Hope you'll like this aaa <33

✦⸼࣪⸳@gayestsillybilly

"Peace, finally, peace."

Sumeru, a region known for its hot climate and vast forests. For those not used to high temperatures and humidity, it could be a stressful nation to be in. But for the inhabitants who had lived their entire lives in the region, or for a puppet who was not susceptible to climate change, Sumeru was tantamount to a tropical paradise.

It's undeniable that in the midst of daily tribulations, people need a break from the problems that surround them. Wanderer was no exception, looking for the perfect spot in the treetops to put his thoughts in order without the presence of idiotic people making noise and–

Smack.

A toy ball hit him right on the face. In disbelief, he put one of his hands on the hit spot and looked at the source of the attack.

"Hey!" He turned around with an annoyed face. It took a lot of courage for someone to actually hit him.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to."

On a tree branch next to him was a child, a very familiar one who made him take a deep breath before saying anything. They had been following him for days. They were [Name], one of the children from a small orphanage in Sumeru.

When he asked Lesser Lord Kusanali for advice on what to do with his little stalker, he was bombarded with information about babysitting. Not that he was going to use any of her advice for anything anyway.

"Do you want to play with me? We can make flower crowns or play soccer together." They cracked a big smile, trying to convince him somehow.

"I don't..."

A small tightness came to Wanderer's chest, which was strange for someone who didn't have internal organs like humans. The child bore an eerie resemblance to one of the ghosts from his past.

"But I really want to play with you, I really want to be your friend!"

They put their hands together, making an abandoned dog face to try to soften his non-existent heart. However, as they did so, they lost their balance and slipped off the branch they were on.

"Waaaah-"

Their eyes closed tightly, preparing for the direct impact with the hard ground. If they were lucky, they might only end up breaking a few fingers or their feet, but if they were unlucky they would break their whole body this fall. However, contrary to expectations, the reality was somewhat different.

"Hm?"

A pair of arms caught them in mid-air, he had saved them. Using his anemo vision to fly, Wanderer left them in a safe place on dry land.

"Woah! That was amazing! Again, again!" They jumped in joy, their eyes shining with energy like stars in the night sky.

"How can someone as small as you have so much energy to spend?" Wanderer took the child in his arms again, trying to calm them down.

"I don't know, hehe."

They swung their legs and put their arms behind his neck for support. It was fun following this grumpy stranger, he always got annoyed but eventually gave in to their sunny personality.

"I'll take you back to where you live." His footsteps echoed in the empty woods. He had run far away so that [Name] wouldn't follow him, but apparently their willpower was so great that the little human caught up with him.

"But I walked so far just to play." They pouted, their eyes filling with small tears that were sure to give him more trouble.

"Wait, wait, don't cry!" He quickly tried to calm them down, lightly wiping the tears from their eyes with his fingers.

Wanderer was in a dilemma. Either he surrendered and spent his precious time playing childish games to appease them, or he could simply leave them in the orphanage where they lived and go back to living his routine. But Lesser Lord Kusanali's little voice rang in his mind whenever he questioned himself like that, saying something like:

"It wouldn't be nice to disappoint a child's pure heart. If they likes you, at least try to cheer them up!"

At times like this, following the advice of the Dendron Archon was the wisest thing to do, since he could end up doing something that would make this already complicated situation worse. Perhaps playing with [Name] would make them stop chasing him through Sumeru for the week.

"Hm... come on. What kind of game would you like to play?" He kicked the ball from under his feet into one of the surrounding trees, the accidental force he put into it breaking its branch.

"Oh. I don't want to play soccer with you, no." They watched the branch next to the toy, not wanting to become a victim of accidental kicks. "I'd rather play hide and seek."

"Hide and seek? What's that?" He was a little confused, he had never played or seen this game before.

"You don't know it? Then I'll teach you!”

They pushed him to a place where he could lean his head and not peek. A little smile adorned their face, happy that they had finally gotten him to play.

"You need to stay here and count to 10 so I can hide. Then you come and find me, it's easy!”

Wanderer closed his eyes, burying his head in one of his arms to start counting. A strong breeze made the light fabric of his hat sway, perhaps a sign of storm.

"One... two... three... four... five..."

[Name] started running, observing the area to find the best possible place to hide. The trees were too tall to climb in ten seconds, and the bushes too thorny and noisy to enter.

'He counts too fast!’

Their faces lit up when they finally found a perfect spot. The chance of Wanderer finding them there was very low, he would certainly have a hard time.

"Six... seven... eight... nine... ten... that's it."

Wanderer began to search. Opening up small bushes and using his vision to climb into the treetops, but [Name] was out of his field of vision.

'There's no way I can't find a child, this is ridiculous.’ He kept searching every nook and cranny, looking for some sign of where [Name] was.

"Hehe..." a chuckle echoed through the room, causing Wanderer to turn around, searching frantically with his head.

"Where...?" He looked up and was startled to see a child falling towards him.

"ATTACK!"

[Name] literally threw themselves at him. If it hadn't been for Wanderer's quick reflexes, who managed to catch them in his arms, they would both have fallen painfully to the ground.

"Haha!" They laughed at his face, being placed on the ground carefully.

"Isn't that against the rules?" He crossed his arms, his face slightly frowning after what had happened.

"There are no rules in hide-and-seek apart from not spying."

"I guess I'll have to accept that then..." Wanderer sighed, but without realizing it, a smile formed on his face. What was a smile turned into a big one and then into a hearty laugh. "Don't ever scare me like that again, please."

"You... YOU SMILED!" They shouted enthusiastically. "I finally made you laugh!"

"I... forget it."

The first drops of rain began to fall to the ground, wetting [Name]'s hair slightly. It was only a matter of time before thunder and lightning began to rumble through the sky.

"..."

Wanderer pulled [Name] under his hat, providing a cover for the smaller child. It was like a small space protected from the outside world, where the two of them could watch everything as long as the precipitation didn't increase.

"Do you dislike thunder?" they looked up to meet his gaze.

"Yes..."

"I don't like it either..." [Name] grabbed one of his hands, pulling him forward. It was an invitation to go with them. "So you're not alone, Mr. Wanderer."

Perhaps there was comfort for someone like him somewhere in the world.

✦⸼࣪⸳♡ BONUS:

"I was told your birthday was a few days ago, so I brought you a small cake."

"A... cake?"

The sweet in front of him was small, perfect for two people to eat. When Wanderer put a slice in his mouth, he couldn't help but feel the sugary taste of the food.

"Here, for you." He held out the piece of cake to [Name], who looked at him with a sad face.

"Don't you like it?"

"H-Hm? Of course I did, that's why I'm being generous enough to give you my slice. Take it soon."

And so, Wanderer successfully escaped yet another dessert.

[heauxvibez]

D.U.F.F

warning: none, but it's based off one of my fav movies! Enjoy!

D.U.F.F.

An abbreviation for 'Designated Ugly Fat Friend'. Often in a group of women (usually adolescents) there will be a D.U.F.F. as a means to look better by comparison.

"I'll be back, I'm going to get some fresh air. It's kind of congested in here!" Emage hollered to her friends, her voice barely audible over the booming music. They just nodded, lost in the rhythm, not really paying their friend any mind.

Emage hated parties, and constantly asked herself why she had even attended. 

Oh yeah, because my friends forced me out of my bed and dragged me here.

Yeah, she could've easily left bearing in mind that she had driven her own car there, but her conscience wouldn't allow her to leave her friends, who were most likely drunk, by themselves.

"Can you get the hell out of my way?!" she groaned, shoving past the sweaty bodies that rubbed against her, disgusted by the fact that the perspiration of the random people dripped onto her skin. Gross. The congestion was becoming too much for her and if she didn't escape the overcrowded area, she was sure she'd pass out.

After jostling pass people for what seemed like forever, she eventually found a patio. There were a few people out there drinking, conversing, sticking tongues down each others throat, but she didn't care. She was able to breathe in fresh air.

It was a mystery how her friends were able to deal with people rubbing against their bodies, invading their personal space but maybe it was just because her personal space was something she had cherished. Anyone who had even dared to pass the boundaries she had set for herself, man, they were in for a rude awakening.

Emage discarded the hair tie from her wrist, throwing her sweated-out silk press hair into a ponytail. She fanned herself, exhaling as she leaned against the patio railing. Although she hated being there, she loved the view. It was late at night so the city lights lit up the sky, and the full moon illuminated the night faultlessly.

Clearing her mind, she thought about how she even ended up being at this party. Of course, her friends dragged her here, but how'd they even get invited? It was an enormous house occupied with celebrities, whom she didn't really care for that much. She was pretty sure some of them weren't too fond of her either, being that she had cursed at a few for bumping into her, not even sparing an apology. Who did they think they were? She was well aware of who they were but there was no room for disrespect no matter who they were.

Oh. Now she recalls. Her friend Bree got invited by some famous wrestler. She forgot his full name but remembers Bree calling him Jon, or Jimmy, or maybe both, who knows. Emage wasn't surprised when her friend said the dude approached her after a match she went to. With her beautiful 4a curls delicately resting on her shoulders, doe-like brown eyes, and supermodel figure, she was sure to catch some celebrity's attention.

"Hey, duff." she heard a deep voice call from a distance, breaking her from her thoughts.

There was no way the man was speaking to her, so she continued to gaze at the night sky. From her peripheral vision, she could spot the tall figure stand next to her and lean against the railing as well.

"Hello? Duff, I know you heard me calling your name.." she shook her head, a small smile emerging onto her face. She turned her head, facing him. The young woman had been prepared to tell him off but her words became stuck in her throat.

He resembled a Samoan deity with his strong, chiseled features and full beard. His lips were a soft shade of pink, practically inviting a kiss, and his brown eyes seemed to peer deep into her soul. His white T-Shirt was basic, but it clung snugly to his body, highlighting his divine muscles. The sight of the tall man was enough to melt a popsicle stick.

As quickly as she could, she snapped out of her thoughts before he could see her sweat.

"I don't know who you are, or who you think you are, but I'm definitely not the one. My name is not Duff, so I'd really appreciate it if you wouldn't call me that. Thanks," she snapped, her tone sharp.

A deep chuckle rumbled from the man's chest. He found the woman's feisty demeanor amusing, but her words didn't faze him.

"Well, since you don't know who I am," he said, throwing his fingers in the air to create air quotes. "I'm Roman Reigns, you know..WWE st-"

"Listen, I didn't come here to listen to you talk about yourself. I just wanted some fresh air away from the ignorant people at this party. But it seems I can't even get that," she interrupted, showing no interest in his self-introduction.

"Ooo, I've never met such a feisty duff," he remarked, a smirk playing on his lips.

The scowl deepened on her face, a clear warning sign, but he couldn't resist the amusement of provoking the short, angry woman.

"Why do you keep calling me that? What the hell is a duff?" she demanded, her weight shifted onto her right leg, arms crossed over her chest, exuding attitude.

"You don't know?" he questioned, one eyebrow raised in mock surprise.

"Obviously not, that's why I'm asking," she retorted, stating the obvious.

"Designated Ugly Fat Friend," he leered.

"Excuse me?" her eyes widened.

"That's what Duff means; Designated Ugly Fat Friend."

What? Did he just? I know he did not just?

Emage was taken aback. He didn't even know her, yet he was tossing insults her way.

"Did you just... did you just call me fat and..and ugly?" Her face flushed with anger.

He shook his head. "No, well, yes, but a Duff isn't always about being ugly or fat, or both."

Her expression remained unchanged, so he continued. "It's about being the least attractive one in the group. You know, the one who makes everyone else look better. Don't worry, every group has one."

Throwing her hands up in the air, she faked a sigh of relief. "Oh, thank you, Jesus, because that makes the term way less insulting."

"I'm not even sure if you're being serious about this. I mean, I'm decent... I-I'm not ugly," she stuttered. He attempted to pat her shoulder, but she quickly brushed him off.

"Of course you're not. You're cute, but your friends Bree and Asia are...sexy," he admitted, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders.

If she could have reached up to grab him the hair he had slicked into a ponytail and slung him over the patio railing, she would have. What was the point of him coming over here anyway? Did he want to shatter her confidence to the ground? As if she didn't already have insecurities she was trying to work on.

She lunged for a nearby drink, snatching it from the grasp of a random individual.

"Hey, I was drinking that!"

Without hesitation, she flung the contents of the cup all over Roman, the Hennessy cascading over his white shirt, leaving a nasty brown stain.

"What the hell was that for?" he bellowed, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at the blotch on his shirt.

A heavy silence descended upon the patio as the surrounding crowd observed the confrontation between the small woman and the towering man.

"You need to chill," he chuckled, though the anger was evident in his voice.

She responded by lifting her middle finger before swiftly turning on her heel and exiting the area.

"Oh, yeah. Real mature!" he yelled after her retreating figure.

With a frustrated groan, Roman was left with the nauseating scent of spilled Hennessy under his nose. Feeling the weight of the party guests' curious stares, he glanced up.

"What the hell are you guys looking at?" he demanded, his irritation palpable as the onlookers quickly averted their gaze, earning a devious chuckle from the WWE star.

"Stupid duff..." he muttered under his breath.

--------------

Umm..200 words turned into 2 million. Lol this is just going to be a plain ole writing challenge at this point. Part 2?

Tags: @harmshake @southerngirl41 @spritelucozade @empressdede @alichesmi @msbigredmachine @blacst4r @sassginamillls @wrestlingprincess80 @saintmagx @theninthwonder

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

He Suddenly Became a Plushie!?

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies. This is a rush translation.

After finishing my work, I returned to Ieyasu's room.

Mai: "I'm back, Ieyasu. Huh?"

(I thought he'd be in his room by now.)

Ieyasu: "Hmm? Welcome back. Sorry, I must have fallen asleep without realizing."

Mai: "Huh? Where are you?"

Ieyasu: "What are you talking about? I'm right here."

Mai: "Huh?"

As I heard Ieyasu's voice, a plush toy resembling him appeared beside the writing desk.

(No, a stuffed toy can't just stand up and talk, right!?)

Mai: "Wait a minute, are you serious? Is that really you!?"

Ieyasu: "What are you talking about?"

Ieyasu: "Huh? Aren't you unusually tall today?"

Mai: "No, you're just small! I mean, you're a plushie!?"

Ieyasu: "Plushie? What's that?"

Ieyasu: "!?"

After moving his body, he noticed his own hands and finally grasped the situation.

Mai: "What happened while I was away?"

Ieyasu: "Even if you ask me, I have no idea. I was just writing a letter and suddenly got sleepy. Then, when I woke up..."

Mai: "You found yourself like this?"

Ieyasu: "I guess."

Mai: "Are you okay? Can I touch you?"

Ieyasu: “Go ahead.”

Mai: “Okay.”

Carefully, I place the small Ieyasu in the palm of my hand.

(What should I do? He’s so tiny.)

Ieyasu: “Hey, why do you look like you’re about to cry?”

Mai: “Ah!”

Ieyasu tapped the tip of my nose and moved his short arms.

(Is he trying to fold his arms? They’re too short for that, though.)

Ieyasu: “I don’t know why this happened, but I’ll find a way to return to normal.”

Ieyasu: “And you, don’t worry more than necessary. Just keep smiling, as usual. Got it?”

He said that and pointed one arm towards my face.

(He's trying to reassure me, even though it's harder for him.)

Mai: "Thank you. You're right. Being depressed won't solve anything."

Mai: "Thanks to your cuteness, I'm feeling a little better."

Ieyasu: "What are you talking about? Moving and talking dolls are creepy as hell."

(He's embarrassed.)

Mai: "That's not true. You're small and cute."

Ieyasu: "My bad. I guess the real me is huge and totally not cute."

Mai: "Your normal self is tall and handsome! I love your usual appearance, of course."

Mai: "So, can I help you look for a way to return to normal?"

Ieyasu: "You're still going to help, even if I say no anyway."

Ieyasu: "Do as you like."

I couldn't help but run my fingers over his cheek as he turned away.

Ieyasu: "Hey, what are you doing?"

Mai: "Hehe, you're just too fluffy and cute."

Ieyasu: "Stop grinning like that. I’ll remember this when I return to normal."

He turned away, sulking.

(Even as a plushie, he's still stubborn. Huh?)

Suddenly, a black stain on his back caught my attention.

I casually shifted my gaze and noticed a brush beneath the writing desk.

Mai: "Ieyasu, there's ink on your back!"

Ieyasu: "Really? It doesn't hurt or itch."

Mai: "Are you sure it's okay? Ink isn't poisonous, right?"

Ieyasu: "Calm down. It's just ink. I can just wash it off."

Mai: "Then let's wash it!"

Ieyasu: "Now?"

Mai: "I'm worried it'd stain your clothes. Just wait. I'll prepare everything quickly!"

Ieyasu: "Hey!"

Quickly preparing hot water and a basin, I lifted him with both hands.

Mai: "I prepared it in a hurry, but I hope it's okay to get you wet."

Ieyasu: "It should be fine. Worst-case scenario, you can just dry me off."

Mai: "Still, if we leave it, the stain will only get worse."

Ieyasu: "If you're going to dilly-dally, then don't wash it."

Mai: "I'll do it!"

With determination, I gently submerged Ieyasu in the warm water.

Mai: "Ieyasu, is it too hot? Are you okay with the pressure? Does it hurt?"

Ieyasu: "You're worrying too much. Just do it properly."

Mai: "But even you are careful when washing the Wasabi doll."

Ieyasu: "That was something you gave me, so I can't help it."

Mai: "Then I can't help it either. I'm washing something precious to me."

Ieyasu: "I see."

Ieyasu: "So, how long are you planning to keep washing me?"

Mai: "Well, it seems like the ink has soaked in more than it looks. Ah!"

The ink spread to his stomach, and I panicked.

Mai: "Wait, I'll get it off now!"

Ieyasu: "Ugh."

Mai: "Did it hurt?"

Ieyasu: "No. It just tickles."

Mai: "Sorry, I'll try to be gentler."

Ieyasu: "Hey, it's getting even more ticklish."

Mai: "But it's not coming off easily."

Ieyasu: "Guh!"

As I gently rubbed, he trembled more and more.

Ieyasu: "Hey, aren't you done yet?"

Mai: "Just a little more. Hang in there, Ieyasu!"

Ieyasu: "Even if you say that, I..."

The small Ieyasu started squirming in my hand, almost falling into the basin.

Mai: "Ieyasu, don't move!"

Ieyasu: "I can't take it anymore!"

The next moment, water splashed everywhere.

Ieyasu: "Huh?"

Mai: "----!"

(He's back to normal!)

Mai: "Maybe getting wet was the trick?"

Ieyasu: "Who knows? I'm just relieved to be back to normal."

Mai: "Wait, what about the ink stain?"

I quickly moved closer to check his back and stomach, but I couldn't find any.

Mai: "Great, it seems like everything's fine!"

Ieyasu: "Fine? Not quite."

Before I could react, the wet Ieyasu grabbed my waist and swiftly pushed me down.

Mai: "Um, Ieyasu?"

Ieyasu: "I told you several times it was ticklish, but you didn't listen."

Ieyasu: "Now it's payback time."

Mai: "Ah..."

He untied my obi, opened my kimono, and touched my bare skin.

Mai: "Wait, Ieyasu, you're soaking wet. You need to change."

Ieyasu: "I'll be taking it off anyway."

Mai: "Mm."

His rough hands caressed me, and he kissed me more passionately than usual. 

That night, we shared the warmth of our bodies until Ieyasu was completely satisfied.

Ikesen Masterlist

[tatck]

I know this isn't really a question but I just love the way that you draw Sonic! He resembles a hedgehog more compared to the games and I much perfer this one! Great job on the comic too!

:D Thanks!!

Whether he looks like a hedgehog or not, i personally don't prefer either one, but i like to draw things with more sketch and mess so more hedgehog looking works for me. My favourite sonic design is definitely the adventure & heroes era though. He's small and has a fun grin. Perfect.

[sea-of-dust]

Joker,Akechi,Futaba,Haru x GN!Reader

You made a doll out of them, time to make them think they're one with it

N: I need those idv skins bro every ask is 5 bucks/heavy j. This post shall multiply my luck by 10 fold no 100 fold!!! I WILL GET FUTABA I WILL GET HARU I WILL GET FUTABA I WILL GET HARU RAAAAA

"That doesn't look like me" you pick up the doll and widen it's arms "where my hug at?" Imatating his voice, he goes to wipe his eyes, hitting his glasses, yet still doing the gesture. "Son?"

He would smush his face, twiddle with its hair, all the gestures you'd do to him. "Is my face really this smushable?" He pinches the cheeks of the doll. "Yea" you pinch his actual cheeks

He'd actually treat it like his son. "Why are you doing his laundry?" The doll stares at you with a towels wrapped around its head and waist it's clothes swashing around in a small kids washing machine. "Where did you even get that?" "A friend sent me an address on where to find em" it's silent as you watch the washing machine whirr. "Sooo" "soon I'll teach how to do it himself" he goes to wipe his eyes, only to hit his glasses again and still going through with the gesture.

Don't make him new clothes...either of them. His first thoughts when you show him the dolls new outfit is ask where to find the human sized versions. "It's just clothes you already have" you put headphones around the dolls neck "I don't have those" you find them instantly showing them to him. ".." "you can match with him" he would send you pictures of him smiling wider than a cartoon character with a matching outfit to the doll

Morgana would accidently talk to the poor doll instead of him. "He's so werid right mini joker?" The doll stares into oblivion "I know right" he'd have deep conversations with that doll, you accidently made Morgana a ride or die partner

"How amusing" you show him the doll holding it up by its hands. "It's you" "it isn't it dosent have any physical resemblance to me" you look at the doll and look back at him. "I think this is your long lost good twin"

He'd stare at it if you weren't in the room. It's soulful little eyes it's little smile. "Akechi why are you in a roll of tape?" He turns thinking your speaking to him only to see you pull his imposter out of the tape.

He'd wouldn't interact with it much besides tying it to celling fans, eventually he did examine it. The attention to detail was top notch, the parting of his hair the details on his clothes. He caught himself smiling at these features. "I see you're growing fond of him" he almost throws it but instead hides it behind his back. "I don't know what you're talking about"

You can't be away from minikechi, the life sized one would bring pictures of you three. Either to use as proof as you mearly breathing near the doll, or because he misses you and the doll was just in frame. "I wasn't touching him" he smirks "really now?" "Yea really" he pulls out a picture of the doll falling on your face. "He fell on me that's gravity"

He's gonna open a seam at one point. Maybe a lot depending on the saw traps he gets put through. He takes this as an opportunity to try and learn how to sew. "Okay wear this" you place a thumb cap over his finger. "What's this?" "It's so you don't poke yourself" he'd take what he's learned from you fixing the doll and minor clothing repairs to "pay you back" by fixing torn things that could be fixed via stich. Would complain after and that's how you know he did it. "That took too long for just a few stitches" "don't use a whole wingspan worth of string next time"

"NOOOOOOO" her scream of anguish would have vibrated the house "I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT" "right about what?" "REN SAID YOU CAME INTO HIS ROOM AT MIDNIGHT TO STEAL MY HAIR AND PUT IT IN A DOLL" "I wasn't there for your hair" "oh" "I was there for answers he forgot to send them to me so I put whipped cream on his hand"

She loves it, convinced to make it a tiny ufo. She'd look up a little too many paper 3d sites to make one, finally finding one and barely able to put it together, she had to call the one person she knew!! "INARI!!" "I'm a painter, I'm afraid I may only be able to help with design and not overall structure" he still comes over to help tho

UFO SET UP, mini futaba put in! Yusuke praising it to God, and the mini futaba totally not being held up by string so she doesn't stress out the paper (suggested by you) "it's cute" your famous last few words before seeing a white spot on the ufo "oh you missed a spot-" "INARI NO"

She'd try to make her own doll of you. "3d printing y/n!!" She giggles to herself as she stitches carefully around the dolls head, she's continue to hype herself up, and then come to leblank like a zombie

The doll replaces her at video calls. Sojiro calling? "Dolltaba speaking!" "Can you tell Ren to get up" "Okey doki!" Sojiro had to get used to it, not like he could tell her to stop either she just went harder taping a printed paper with her face onto the doll so she could keep using it for Webcams.

"Really?" Her eyes widen when the doll looks at her. Touching its features. As long as she doesn't look down you can convince her the doll and her share consciousness

You'd catch her trying to tone her skills with it. "Haru?" "Yes?" "Why are you glaring at the doll like that?" "To practice my skills" she stares even harder at the mini haru. "You're gonna pop a vein" "all in a days work" without a secound of hesitation you speak up once again "are you trying to explode her with your mind?" Her eyes widen, her head nearly snapping to you and back at the doll staring even harder. "Alright that's enough no mind explosions" "but y/n!" "You don't have powers"

"Would you like tea?" The dolls 1000 yard stare answered for it l, you pouring it pretend tea. "Truely a spleaded tea party" "indeed" you both extend your pinkeys to a painful degree. You two would enjoy actual snacks while leaving nothing for a doll, this would sadden her. "We should buy doll food" "Haru her mouth is string how is she gonna eat?" "Are you familiar with the plastic food for kids toys?" Finally the doll could join in being an estimened guest

There's hair matienece..for both. At the same time. "You have more curls than a lala loopsey doll" you carefully comb its hair "I should stop using yarn" finish it up with a plastic hairclip that totally wasn't from a discount store and she'd nearly instantly ask for the same thing. She'd come to school with a diffrent sweater to match the hair pieces making Ryuji think she had been switched with ghost

The only person with a near perfect condition doll. Because she keeps mini haru in a case. "Haru I appreciate the fact you care to keep her clean, but she's being held hostage" "your right.." You sigh, thinking she's agreed with you. "I'll need to buy her a home!" Your eyes shoot open, too late now you're already assembling mini Haru her own home. Atleast she lives rent-free

[burntsaltsblog]

tw: nsfw, 18+

Chapter five

"We are not sharing a bed."

"Alright, doll, enjoy sleepin’ on the floor then," Butcher shrugged, kicking off his boots.

I scoffed as I turned towards the door. "I'm getting my own room."

"You will do no such thing," Butcher intervened sternly. "I told Ed we was on our honeymoon, remember?"

"Yeah, and I also told him you were gay, so I guess we're both liars," I said, pivoting back to Butcher as I placed both hands on my hips. "Unless," I continued, analyzing the burly Brit.

"Unless what?" Butcher barked, mirroring my stance.

"Well, I don't know," I slyly commented. "I've seen the way you look at MM. But hey," I held up my hands, "I get it. He's a nice-looking man, you know, with his big, strong arms and stubble that I'm sure would leave the loveliest of burns on anyone's thighs-

The rest of my words evaporated into thin air as Butcher stalked over to me, immense agitation written all over his face as he backed me up against the sky-blue wall. "Oi, I know what you're tryin’ to do, ya’ sneaky little cunt. But it ain’t gonna work."

"What are you talking about?" I asked, peering up at him innocently. I widened my eyes, painting on a face that resembled a puppy.

Butcher's mouth hardened. "You're tryin’ to get a rise outta me, so you'll get your way." He leaned in as his voice fell to a husky whisper. "Nice try, sweetheart, but I ain’t fallin’ for it."

"Well, it was worth a shot, don't you think?"

Butcher merely shook his head before retreating to the other side of the room and unpacking his belongings. I watched him quietly for a moment as he threw his Hawaiian shirts into the white wood dresser before sighing loudly and holding my hand out. "Give me your keys."

"Why?" He grunted, not bothering to look up.

"Because I'm sleeping in the car."

"Bullocks." He argued, closing the now full drawer and finally looking at me. "You’re not leavin’ the confines of this room without me supervision."

"I'm not a child, Butcher. I don't need you to babysit me," I huffed. "Now, hand over your fucking keys."

"Not happenin’, princess. S’not safe to be out there all by your lonesome," he said, gesturing to the window to acknowledge the outside world.

I narrowed my eyes. "You don't give a rat's ass about my safety. You're just scared I'll drive off without you, leaving you all alone in Snow White's cottage with only Ed to keep you company. But maybe that'd be fun. I mean, speaking from experience, older men are amazing in bed because they really know how to take control. I bet Ed would rock your world if you just gave him the chance."

My frame again collided with the wall when Butcher trudged back over with much more aggression. I giggled maniacally as his fingers applied the most beautiful pressure to my neck, cutting off most of my air source and the blood to my head.

His mouth grazed my ear, sending a shiver down my spine. "You're going to sleep in this room, in that bed, with me, even if I have to hold a gun to your head. And lucky for you, I have plenty of those."

Butcher pulled back enough so he could see my face. "Do ya’ understand?"

I was dizzy as I stared at him, smiling lazily. "Yes, Daddy. I understand."

Butcher's breath caught in his throat, and for a brief moment, I thought he might kiss me. In preparation, I swiped my tongue over my lower lip. His eyes honed in on the action, and his mouth parted as soft pants exited his mouth.

But everything shattered when he suddenly pulled back, ending the confusing yet heated interaction.

"Go shower, ya’ smell like shite," he instructed, turning away from me.

"You don't exactly smell like roses either," I grumbled as I shuffled over to my bag and pulled out an oversized white tee and a clean pair of black panties with a simple lace trim.

As I entered the small, extended bathroom, I glanced back at Butcher and almost missed the bulge he was attempting to conceal by pretending to look out the window. His knuckles were white as they clenched the blue silk curtain, and his shoulders were taut with tension.

The bathroom door clicked shut, and I leaned on it for support as I closed my eyes and focused on taking deep breaths. The sight of Butcher's tented jeans was burned into my eyelids, causing a strong need to settle in my core, pulsing incessantly.

"Fuck," I whispered as I pushed myself off of the door and made quick work of turning on the shower and stripping myself of my clothes that had begun sticking to my skin.

I let the waves of purposeful cold water wash over my body as I scrubbed myself, trying to think of anything other than what I knew Butcher was doing in the next room over. If I strained my ears, I could almost hear his quiet grunts of pleasure as he roughly stroked his member, nearing his release. There was no doubt that Butcher had sent me to go shower so he could fix his little problem.

With minimal shame, I let my hand trail between my breasts and down the length of my torso until I reached my aching cunt that had been begging for attention since the moment Butcher wrapped his hand around my throat.

I leaned against the shower wall as the water, now much warmer, trickled down my back, only aiding my nearing orgasm. My hips rocked against my hand as my fingers dove into my sopping hole relentlessly, grazing the spot that made my knees go weak. A place that Butcher had no trouble reaching with his fingers and his cock. I pictured the veiny length that I'd had the privilege of coming apart on that one night now months ago.  

I slammed my other hand over my mouth to silence my whine as I came on my fingers. My vision blurred, and I helplessly reached out to shut off the water before staggering out of the shower and grabbing a fluffy white towel that sat on the countertop.

After gathering my bearings, I hastily dried myself off and left my hair, wet and tangled, to fall around my shoulders as I threw on my shirt and underwear.

Then, I shut off the bathroom light and cracked open the door, peering out into the now-dark bedroom. I squinted, making out Butcher, who was in bed, lying on his side, facing away from me. I studied his breaths for a moment as I tried to deduce whether or not he was faking his slumber.

Deciding that he was, in fact, asleep, I tiptoed over to the unoccupied side of the bed and nimbly slid under the covers. I turned my head and watched as a sliver of moonlight that snuck between the curtains fanned over him, basking his beautifully sculpted face in a glow that made him look almost ethereal. I assumed it was what Zeus looked like if the Greek God ever took a few moments of rest.

A yawn bubbled up from my throat, urging me to rest as well, so I clutched my pillow and closed my eyes, listening to the breeze that was picking up outside. I was grateful that Butcher wasn't hogging the blankets, and I drew them up to my neck, burrowing deeper in search of warmth.

Soon, I drifted off, and dreams invaded my mind, specifically one about the day I met Butcher. He had found me in a tiny hideout, living with other dealers as we all scrounged on the street, barely scraping by. He had initially come to collect some information from our boss, but when he'd laid eyes on me, huddled up in the corner of the dingy apartment, he recruited me immediately.

"What's a pretty thing like you doin’ livin’ in a place like this, eh?" He asked, displaying his prominent cockney accent as he crouched in front of me. "Did some bloke use ya’ to pay a debt?"

"No, you ass, I work here," I shot back.

His brow arched at my surprising rebuttal. "Well, I'll be. For someone who looks like a little princess, you sure do have a mouth on ya’."

"And if you ask me what else my mouth does, I will bite off your tongue and shove it so far down your throat you'll be shitting it out for a year."

"Jo," Hugo, my boss, warned me, and I scowled at both men, scooting farther into my corner and tightening my hold on my stale mug of coffee.

"New deal," the Englishman announced, rising to his feet to face Hugo. "I'll give ya’ one grande for everythin’ you know about the Temp V that's bein’ funneled through the Chinese restaurant down the street." He then pointed to me. "And her."

I stood to my full height, which wasn't very impressive compared to the broad man in front of me. "This isn't the 1800 hundreds, buddy. You can't go around bargaining women like they're fucking objects."

"Sorry, love. Didn't mean to tickle any nerves. I am merely in the position to expand my team, and I was thinkin’ you just might be the perfect fit."

"Team? Do you coach cricket down at the local senior center?" I asked mockingly.

"Is she always like this?" The man questioned Hugo, completely disregarding me.

"Yup, I have yet to find her off switch."

I glared at my boss. "Fuck you."

"See," Hugo said, gesturing to me. "You really want to put up with this? She's stubborn to an end, with an attitude that would drive anyone insane."

"No," the Englishman whispered as his hazel eyes wandered my face, "She's magnificent."

༺༻

A clash of thunder jolted me awake, and I abruptly sat up before throwing my legs over the side of the bed and stumbling over to the window. I cautiously pulled the curtain back to gaze through the glass and watched in horror as rain splattered down angrily while lightning flashed from above.

My latest career was in face-to-face combat with supes who did frightening things like shoot lasers from their eyes or start a fire with a mere snap of their fingers. But my greatest fear in life was storms. Even the slightest bit of thunder immediately brought me back to my childhood, and I felt like a little kid again, cowering under the covers of my bed while my parents all but tore each other apart in the living room, and a storm raged all around the small ranch house.

Anxiety racked my body, and I sprang back when thunder boomed again. A small whimper left my mouth before a voice behind me drew my attention.

"Come on back to bed."

I twisted around to look at Butcher, who was now awake and sitting up. I opened my mouth to respond, but another thunderclap interrupted me, and a tremble vibrated in my bones.

My vision blurred with tears as I bit harshly into my lip before my mouth filled with the taste of copper. I looked up at Butcher, and when he saw my face, his brows creased, and he held out his hands, beckoning me toward him. "C’mere, love."

I hesitated, but when a branch from the tree outside smacked against the window, I shot forward, straight into Butcher's arms.

"Atta girl. There we go," he murmured, pulling me to lay on his bare chest as he leaned back against the headboard. My legs landed on either side of his torso, and I wrapped my hands around his neck, grasping the ends of his hair and tangling my fingers in the strands.

"That’s it. Ya’ just hang onto me," Butcher whispered.

His hands rubbed up and down my back soothingly, and I focused on the feeling of his touch to ground myself.

"It's just a pesky little storm. Nothin’ to be afraid of."

His reassurance made me sink further into his embrace, and before long, my breathing began to slow, and my cries significantly quieted.

I pulled back slightly to rest my forehead against his and took notice of the tension that began to brew between us. My eyes dropped from Butcher's dark eyes that studied me to his full lips, which were only inches from my own, and without thinking, I closed the gap between us.

My cunt pulsed, and I knew Butcher could feel it as I ground myself down on him while our lips clashed together. But all too soon, he broke away. "Fuckin’ hell, doll. What are ya’ doin’?"

I mumbled my answer, leaning back in. "Need you."

Butcher stopped me by placing both his hands on my shoulders, creating distance between us. "Now, just a minute, love. I don't want ya’ goin’ and makin’ a mistake here."

I went to answer, but Butcher held up his hand, silencing me as he continued. "You're in a very...vulnerable state right now, and I don't wanna take advantage of ya’."

"You're not. I promise."

Butcher didn't look convinced as the wind blew harshly outside, and I winced in his arms, bracing my hands against his chest. "Please, Butcher, I need this. I need the distraction."

Fresh tears of desperation welled in my eyes, and he was quick to wipe them away as they stained my cheeks.  

Butcher was quiet as he looked at me in nothing but my thin t-shirt with my nipples peeking through and my panties that were beyond soaked.

His silence sprouted panic in my head as I began to worry that maybe it was due to the fact that he didn't want me like that anymore. One hook-up three months prior certainly didn't define one's feelings, and the arousal he displayed earlier this evening could easily be explained as some sort of anatomical dysfunction.

"It's ok. I get it," I muttered, mortified, falling off of Butcher's lap and curling up on my side of the bed. "It was presumptuous to assume you were attracted to me. I'm sorry."

Rejection flooded my body, and I pulled my blankets tightly against me, only to have them ripped away seconds later.

"The fuck are ya’ goin’ on about?" Butcher asked gruffly, leaning over me. The simple chain displaying his wedding ring dangled next to my face, and I did my best to ignore it as I answered him. "The fact that you're clearly unattracted to me. But it's fine, no hard feelings."

I shoved my face into my pillow so I wouldn't have to look at Butcher as he granted me the confirmation that I so dreaded. But instead of doing just that, he gently instructed me, "Gimme your hand."

I hesitated before placing my hand in his outstretched one. Still lying on my side, I felt Butcher guide it behind me towards his frame. A small gasp of air escaped my lungs when my hand was placed over his front, and I felt a bulge that grew with every second.

"You think I don't want ya’?" He asked lowly. "Then explain this."

I swallowed the lump that had formed in my throat as I looked over my shoulder, and my heart raced at the lust that bloomed in his eyes. "Of course I want you. I'll always want ya’, doll. No matter how much ya’ try to push me away. You're the reason why I can't sleep at night no more because I'm fuckin’ my fist, rememberin’ the way ya’ whined underneath me as you came all over my cock the night before I left."

I didn't know what to say. For the first time in my life, all words had evaded me.

"But, I know how spontaneous you can get, darlin’. And I don't want ya’ to wake up tomorrow and regret tonight."

"I could never regret you." My voice was hoarse from crying, and I slowly sat up. Butcher matched my position on the bed, so we sat facing one another.

My eyes lowered to Butcher's hard length, and I reached my arm out. "Is this ok?" I whispered as my fingers traced the waistband of his boxers.

Butcher breathed deeply, closing his eyes before opening them again to look at me earnestly. "If this is what ya’ really want, petal, then s’ok with me."

The new pet name warmed my cheeks as my hand dipped into Butcher's boxers and wrapped around his hard length. I used my other hand to ease down the fabric, and his cock popped free, leaking pre-cum from its angry, red tip.

Butcher hissed as I spat into my hand and began to stroke him gently. I wanted him in my mouth, to feel his fat, swollen head hit the back of my throat till my eyes watered, but I craved comfort at this moment, so I looked at Butcher. "Please," I begged. "I need you. Need to be close to you."

Solemnly, Butcher nodded and easily pried my hand off of him. He was quick to discard his boxers and eased himself up the bed until he was leaning against the headboard once more.

"C’mere, sweetheart," he encouraged softly.

I, too, rid myself of my underwear and crawled up the bed. Butcher used his hands on my hips to guide me as I swung my leg over his torso so I was straddling him.

"You tell me if ya’ wanna to stop." He said, removing one of his hands from my hip to cup my jaw instead to guarantee that I was looking at him. "I don't care if I'm in the middle of comin’; if ya’ wanna stop, we stop, got it?"

I nodded, appreciating that even in a heightened moment of pleasure, Butcher would still put my needs before his.

"Atta girl."

Butcher ran his hands up at down my arms as I wrapped my hand around his cock for the second time that night and lined him up with my pussy which was weeping just for him.

"Daddy," I whimpered as I sank down on Butcher's thick shaft, my walls stretching to accommodate his almost painful size. "I forgot how big you are."

"Fuck I missed ya’," Butcher groaned. "I missed both of ya’: my girl and her perfect pussy."

I was already preening under his words as I rose up before sinking down on him again. I repeated the action several more times before settling into a steady rhythm.

"Doin’ so good for me, love," Butcher said, his voice raspy as his thumb circled my aching clit, and I couldn't stop my look of pure content as his praise washed over me.

"Fuck, Daddy, that feels so good," I whined. But Buther already knew that based on how tightly I was squeezing his cock, threatening to milk him any second.

"Yeah? You gonna come, sweet thing? I know ya’ want to. Come on and show me how much ya’ appreciate my cock stretching you wide open."

My slick walls constricted around Butcher's length, and a soft cry left my mouth as I reached my climax. I gripped Butcher's shoulders, holding on for dear life as he grabbed the fat of my ass harshly, helping me to fuck myself through my orgasm.

"There we go. Make a mess for me. That's it, petal."

My chin met my chest as I panted, trying to catch my breath. My movements were much more docile as I slowly continued to ride him, enjoying the lasting pleasure from my orgasm. But the feeling soon turned intense again as I felt my second high quickly building.

"Already goin’ for another?" Butcher chuckled, brushing stray hair away from my face, which had stuck to my sweaty skin.

"Daddy, please," I cried, even though I wasn't even sure what I was pleading for.

"Take what ya’ need, sweetheart. Make yourself come again," Butcher coaxed as his thumb left my throbbing clit and instead reached around to rim my puckered hole. I mewled loudly as my hips slammed down harder, chasing a new high.

Butcher eased my shirt over my head, revealing my chest and nipples that were practically begging for to be sucked.

"There's my beautiful girl. So fuckin’ pretty," Butcher growled, leaning forward and swirling his tongue around my nipple before taking it into his mouth. He sucked greedily, causing my second orgasm to crash into me like a freight train. A strangled moan exited my mouth, and I clung to Butcher helplessly.

Once I came back down to earth, Butcher gripped my hips firmly. "Hang on tight, petal," he warned before holding me in place as he fucked up into me, now intent on chasing his own release after holding back for so long to ensure that I had got what I needed.

"Best fuckin’ pussy." He groaned. "You've fuckin’ ruined me for anyone else."

Butcher's movements stuttered, and I felt his hot release coat my walls. His teeth sank into my shoulder, marking me and creating a constant reminder of this night.

The silence that followed felt poignant compared to the way we had been filling the room with sounds of satisfaction just moments before.

"You reckon we was too loud?" Butcher finally asked, kissing the mark he had created, soothing the inflamed flesh as he traced random shapes on my lower back. His length still pulsed inside me, but I found the connection comforting, so I made no motion to move.

"Well, you did say we were on our honeymoon," I joked. "At least it's believable now."

Butcher spanked my ass playfully. "Accordin’ to traditional marital standards, I believe newly married couples usually engage in such intimate activities more than once on their honeymoon."

"It would be a shame if we didn't at least try to live up to those standards, don't you think?" I asked, a smirk playing at the edge of my lips.

"A shame indeed," Butcher replied, leaning forward to capture my lips in a long kiss.

The hate I had so intensely felt for him melted away as he caressed me as if I were the most precious thing in the world.

"Thank you," I murmured, looking up into his amber eyes.

Butcher smiled softly, something he didn't often do. "Let's get some sleep, yeah? I think you've done a proper job of tirin’ us both out."

I nodded, and Butcher eased me off of his softening length. I whined, but he was quick to place a kiss on my temple, calming me.

Butcher delicately placed me down on the mattress, and I sighed in contentment. I watched him effortlessly strut into the bathroom, and he threw a wink my way, knowing that I was checking him out. Even though we'd just had sex, the sight of his muscular body had me rubbing my legs together.

Butcher popped out a moment later with a towel in hand. Right away, he spotted the needy look on my face and snickered. "Insatiable little thing, aren't ya’?"

I nodded my head up and down, and Butcher scoffed, "Tomorrow, we can continue, but right now, young lady, you're goin’ to sleep."

I pouted up at him, feeling playful. "But I don't want to sleep, Daddy."

Butcher climbed on the bed and placed a hand on either side of my head. "But you're not in charge, are ya’, petal?"

"Mm, I guess I forgot who it was. Maybe you should remind me."

Butcher's eyes darkened as he grinned madly and gripped my waist, effortlessly flipping me over.

"Oh, you're in for it, sweetheart."

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[delicrieux]

𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑶 𝑷𝑹𝑬𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑫, 4. year one: start of term, 1972

pairing for this chapter—sirius black x f!lestrange!reader x regulus black warnings for this chapter—tbh none i think word count—6.4k

oh dear, the train ride is positively mental, but at least the sorting clears, well, everything. it is always as it should be, isn't it?

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walburga lands three kisses: one for regulus, one for sirius, and one for you. her lips are dry, and her lipstick stains identical, right between the brows. sirius seems most displeased by such a display of unwanted affection, at king's cross, no less, but regulus is glad for it. you are, too, as unwilling as you are to admit or even show it.

"write," she orders.

you know this isn't aimed solely at you, but it's easier to assume. a bout of special treatment. walburga is very different from your mother, from the cut of her features to her voice to the drapes of her travel robes. sometimes, you wish they were much alike, because that would mean that your mother loves you. perhaps the contrast means she doesn't, perhaps the warmth means she's obliged to. perhaps all love has its peculiarities.

the trip to the station had been surprisingly uneventful. sirius had pointedly ignored you, always one step head – any further and walburga would have yanked him back by the hand, which would have been terribly embarrassing for him. regulus, sour in his brother presence, had also been confined to silence, but he stuck close to your side, a looming shadow just over your shoulder, still too short to form any of his own.

despite this, their strategic placement made you safe. rabastan made himself scarce at the first blow of the whistle, along with your luggage, which he either dumped into a lonely compartment or gleefully left on the tracks. he will receive a earful either way, because you didn't much appreciate the way he handled your precious leather-bound trunk, dragging and jostling it around uncaringly. you'll tattle to father, too, only to make your displeasure all the more apparent.

you take sirius' and regulus' hand respectively and squeeze, trying to ease the mounting pressure, but neither seems to find this comforting, pulling their appendage free almost at once. walburga frowns disapprovingly, eyes sharp. under her gaze, you become nervous. or perhaps it's the loud, oozing mob of people sloshing by the sides of your small family, crying parents and children included. you would, of course, never cry, even if the sting behind your eyes is surprisingly sharp the longer you look at her silver brooch. you wish to assure her, but your teeth are pressed together very tightly and you don't think you'll find your voice. your feet scoot backward, close together, shoulders to your ears.

a flash, an iron cloud of steam, and, then, a hissing rumbling that rattles the platform and vibrates up the soles of your shoes.

a glance at regulus shows him pale and sickly, hazel eyes boring into his mother. sirius grows angry the longer he dallies. his jaw is all hard, like his father's. you wonder if they'll resemble one another the longer they spend apart. the idea is rather frightening.

"on the train, off you go," their mother ushers, an undertone of malice slipping under her crisp voice, "no ruckus."

in a stupor, you nod dumbly, only really catching on when she fixes your jacket and skirts, readying you to face the brave new world of non-private tutors and shared dorms. the chilly mist curls by your feet. she waits until the lot of you march up, the shiny metal stairwell banging loudly underfoot, sirius first, regulus following closely. something within you snaps, and with the creak of the last step, you spin and wave, like your life would depend on it, wind picking up.

no return of your petulant gesture, nor a smile. just the slight dip of her head. it's more than enough.

the train's narrow walkways are overcrowded by eager, sobbing first years saying their last farewells. you hope one tumbles out the open window. the sight of snot unnerves you. surely you don’t look like that, all blushed and scattered and eyes rimmed red. or do you? the thought is humiliating, and your skin crawls beneath soft cotton.

"we should find barty and evan," regulus says.

you perk, "and marzy. matilda, too."

"...suppose."

his expression grows troubled, and it's like the flip of a switch: a change so instantaneous you want to laugh. but it isn't that funny. regulus was never an anxious child. this new side of him concerns you. perhaps he's just worried to be away from home. you are, too, and you wish to tell him, but only in secret, because you know that only he would keep it well.

but sirius is near, and oh, he wouldn't let either of you live it down. he'd probably hear it as a whisper, even with all this terrible noise around. your row is still fresh in memory, and you return his spite with barely masked discontent, despite him being completely unfazed. he's playing a game, as always. when he wins, the euphoria will make everything else melt away. that is how he can stay happy.

you walk through the crowded corridor, the trio making careful but swift movements to avoid the nasty looks of huddled, tired older students. there's a certain thrill to seeing faces you would recognize as fellow peers in a year or two. this is all very new and confusing.

a long string of cabins makes the hall narrower. some doors are opened. inside there is an ever changing string of images: a quartet of laughing girls, a pair of boys playing with a pack of cards, the fatigued glance from a student studying, another group of friends screaming over one another, the window and the endless expanse of trees rushing by, the shrill of the whistle, your heartbeat alongside it.

at last, a lone cabin makes your pulse jump with delight, perhaps for the first time this morning.

tailored grey robes fitted nicely, brown leather oxfords polished, new, shiny silver cuffs, rye blonde hair, and a bored, pale expression. evan rosier doesn’t so much as glance up from his book as the door rattles open, content in his own private booth. no sign indicates it to be so, but the luxurious feeling lingers, along with the hazy after-note of his father cologne (pilfered; evan, at times, wishes to appear very grown up, and thus, he isn’t above bending the rules to achieve a desired affect).

regulus enters first with a greeting, and yours gets stuck in your throat when a hand grasps your wrist and pulls.

"let's go," sirius mumbles, his grip like a claw, tight and hot.

“piss off,” you grumble, trying to tug free, but one look from him makes you wilt in spot. his eyes shift from you to somewhere over your shoulder, and the compartment’s door snaps shut.

wonderful, no one is coming to your rescue. unceremoniously, sirius drags you along, the absolute prat. yanking you around like you're some poodle (rodolphus had thoughtfully once remarked you similar in appearance and character). yes, well, perhaps the comparison is frightening for its accuracy, but that doesn't give sirius the right!

the two of you barge down the corridor, "cousin, please."

"oh," he sneers, "now, i'm ‘cousin’ again?"

you have half the mind to wring him with your own bare hands. the first hex you'll legally cast will be directed at his unhappy sneer. you think of digging your heels into the carpet, but that would possibly end with you toppling over, and he'd continue dragging you still. merlin, that'd be mortifying. another warning look and you're shushed into silence.

you pass a few carriages, now long away from your friends. unknown territory, and the students here a bit livelier and clag in muggle clothes – the sweaters, ugh, and, well, jeans, is it? – and his grip becomes much more mild. as does your resistance. he makes a point of appearing quite satisfied.

the air is a tad too tense for your comfort.

"missed me?" he muses, checking over his shoulder.

yes, you most certainly did. more so than expected, which doesn't bode well. if there was something you didn't want, it would be him figuring this out. bastard.

his next words make you bristle, "don't pout."

the prospect of speaking and exposing yourself makes you shift on your feet uncomfortably, so you don't. instead, you observe. the wooden panelling is actually nice, considering the rubbish inside, and you realize, too, you could have done in worse company. his profile is nearly enough to erase all anger, so much so it leaves you nauseous. it is just like sirius to sweep you up in the tide of his volatile emotions.

alas, you are with him, and his brother is not. he had, quite literally, peeled you away. that must count for something if taking sums.

another carriage, and you're now on the other side of the train, and he's much calmer. happier, clearly, and so you gaze up at the back of his head and wonder what could make the tense line of his shoulders ease so suddenly.

he halts, turns, and his hold slides from your wrist to your hand. this, now, feels like a very important moment. your gut churns.

"sorry," he manages, inspecting the pain of foggy glass. obviously, much more interesting than your dumb expression, "didn't want them tagging along."

"okay," is the only thing that comes to mind, and it doesn't cover even a fraction of your bewilderment.

"and. and-" his nose wrinkles as he mulls, mouth still stuck on the beginning of whatever word he will say, "and, yeah," he pauses, gives a squeeze. the carriage shifts. suppose this is the end of his dignified apology. it is the worst you had ever received, and in your long life, you had received, say, ten at most, because no one ever does anything to upset you. all of them had been from sirius, and, to his credit, he had at least tried to appear sincere. one, definitely, was from rabastan, but he was forced to apologize by father, so that hardly counts.

"still upset?"

his voice, his eyes. you wonder when they'll look older. his ears are turning pink, like they did when he was mad, or when you bested him, or when someone teased him about how ridiculous his name is.

there's not much for you to reply with that wouldn't uncover all, and so you don't speak. instead, you hold your head high in all the poise you can muster. must not be much, because he snorts.

"okay, okay," a great, deep breath, and he slouches forward, "look, sorry for ignoring you," a sigh, like something heavy, a physical entity, slides down and settles low on his chest. his chin drops into his collar, "forgot. forgot how big of a softie you are."

"am not!" your quick denial would be obvious to the blind and deaf.

his voice carries the ghost of amusement, "yes. yes, you are."

"am not!" fine, so what if you are a bit soft-hearted. all of that only makes your pride more magnificent. besides, you are selective with your soft-heartedness. if it were, say, a weeping rabbit, or, someone else's dog, then, you might, indeed, find yourself moved to act, but you most certainly draw the line somewhere. and once you locate that line, you'll surely rub it in his face.

his grin is mollifying, "i know."

all this fuss. not like you truly had much of a choice when sirius is involved. that brute knows which buttons to push. he was a fool to even test it. how he will cry when the roles are reversed.

"do you want to meet my friends?" his excitement, hidden as it is, still leaks.

"no."

"aw." he doesn't believe you. you're not sure you believe yourself. it's very perplexing. the emotions you feel are too complicated for you to pick apart, meshing and blending into a syrup that tastes tart and makes you want to squirm out his grasp, his line of vision, the immediate vicinity, and perhaps further still, but you don’t want him to let go. his eyes brighten with the next statement, "well. you're just going to have to suck it up. be cute."

that makes you huff, because his own smugness is both enervating and enthralling, but you're glad to be needed again, "as if i don't always!"

"there's the spunk," his hold shifts, and the tip of his thumb gently eases a stray wisp of hair away from the bridge of your nose. your cheeks must be positively scalding, "going to cry on me?"

it's his taunting, his brittle tenderness. always wanting to prove something. to you, to everyone, it seems. you think his behaviour is strange today. not off-putting, but, rather, endearing in its absurdity.

fine, you'll bite. fix your cutest expression – all doe eyes and a pout, like you didn't receive the candy you so desperately wanted. very unassuming, it does wonders for the general populace. father once told you that you have a very comely disposition, and that you must use it to your advantage, but what he didn't know is that, at five, you were already doing that. how else would he have bought you a stable to feed your brief obsession with horses? without even realising it, too.

it is terribly effective on sirius.

"well, don't. please," is what he can come up with, which, in your humble opinion, is simply awful, "okay? don't cry. because there's a no-crying clause in our friendship. and it's... very important."

"alright," you cogitate, delighted to have so much power over such a boy. not that show it, but there really isn't a better feeling.

regulus could probably call your bluff. evan, most certainly. but sirius, despite his fiery nature, likes to be useful, but particularly, he likes protect. the latter, especially, when directed toward a pretty, smaller thing. which, in this case, you suppose is yourself.

you allow the brat to tug you up and into a cabin. he almost trips over his feet.

as soon as the door slides open, you stand on your tippy-toes to look over his shoulder.

three pairs of eyes rest on the both of you and suddenly your tummy sinks with panic. how odd is this situation for a first impression. there you are, in skirts and clutching his hand like a little lost pet, and he, smug as can be, eyes slightly less dry from a poor excuse of an emotional break. he has this look on his face, too.

"all right?" the spectacled one greets.

he turns to regard you, which gives you the opportunity to properly analyse the faces of strangers. he seems to be sirius' age, and he's smiling very brightly. his spectacles, a bit crooked, slide off his nose, and he doesn't feel the need to fix them, revealing twin hazel eyes.

a warm squeeze draws your attention back, "yeah," sirius responds, and perhaps you unconsciously cave into yourself to appear even smaller. not that you aren't used to be being examined, it's that you aren't used to being examined by sirius' friends. you had never met anyone he would call that outside of yourself.

"my cousin," sirius presents, along with your full, proper name, first and middle and third and lesrange, "four times removed."

they all happily chime their introductions as you are sat down besides sirius. the spectacle-clad one is james, and the one sat beside him with a chocolate frog in his hand is peter, and the one on your side of the seat is remus, cosy by the window. he seems the quietest and the least likely to find sirius' pranks funny. and you think, all in all, that perhaps you could like him very much.

you have heard bits and pieces about them, and it's nice to put names to faces and finally see the people sirius has grown so close with. he was often quite evasive in his replies, probably to maintain a sense of cool. what a ninny.

peter regards you a bit shyly, not quite sure if you want to be here. his freckly, ruddy skin and blonde hair is so quaint and farmish. nothing like sirius'. james, too, seems like the type of child you might find in a shoe store, perfectly squishy and baby-faced.

"she's good," sirius says, "normal. the only other with common sense out the whole lot."

well, you would appreciate if he didn't speak as if you didn't exist squeezed beside him, thank you very much. his hand still has yours hostage, and by how at ease he is, you assume he has forgotten about it entirely. you will not remind him, because you find the notion surprisingly awkward, and this is perhaps the first time in your life that you feel the prickly, tense feeling halting all possible function.

"not surprised," james remarks, eyes on you. there's a mischievous gleam, similar to sirius’, "a friend of sirius is a friend of ours!"

"suppose," peter agrees, having gotten over the initial surprise of having you there, his features shifting into his natural, lazy appearance, which you can tolerate, "our numbers have grown."

sitting close, you can feel sirius preen in pleasure at being so wanted and loved. by a pettigrew, a line infested with squibs, and a potter, no doubt an ignoble lineage. and a lupin, too, though more subtly. a wizard surname, but considering you haven't heard much of it, you can assume nothing good.

well, this is certainly company.

you plaster your shyest smile in hopes they cannot tell what you're thinking. they're boys, so you don't suppose they think much to begin with, but one can never be too certain! even barty has his moments.

remus, you think, has a quite cool gaze on you. or, not. but still, he holds himself in the same way that regulus does. quite tall, too. there's nothing exactly frightening about his countenance, but he seems a bit more serious than the current gaggle.

sirius doesn't pay much notice, absorbed by his little following as he is, and peter looks absolutely daft and not at all reliable for conversation. james, well, he's looking at you, as though he wants you to feel welcomed to join their conversation. how silly.

"you excited for the sorting?" james asks.

you nod. sirius has hauled you here unwillingly, and so you'll let him respond, as he seems beside himself to do so, "my money's on gryffindor. she's pretty stubborn."

james seems quite captivated with the idea, "that'd make you the first lestrange to be a gryffindor, wouldn't it?"

you are sure there's some sort of jab in there, but james is smiling. like really, really widely. a big, stupid, cheerful smile, and his hair is a terrible mess. he looks like a muggle, and if your father could see you now, you'd never be let outside again.

"she will," sirius tells them confidently, but really, it seems like he wants it to be true more for the sake of argument than anything else, "bet."

"three sickles."

"fine!"

you don't care to gamble, even if there's a great deal of pride involved. betted sickles or no. you decide it'll be best to observe as you settle comfortably. a new role, you’d make quite the actress. perhaps your likeness will be printed in the papers alongside lindy witchermore and gabriette merlot.

the view outside the window melts into endless plains. the sky grows a tad darker, hiding the sunshine, and everything becomes an amorphous smudge.

james ropes the boys into a lengthy discussion of quidditch and this is where you start wondering about regulus. did he and even find barty? and matilda and marzy? did matilda wear her new, pretty bow? if she did, you'll feel very jealous and entirely slighted. you wish you had a cute, fuzzy bow, but then the poodle comparisons really wouldn't stop.

james continues, completely oblivious. maybe that's just how he is. maybe, then, remus is more attentive, because he tilts his head at you a tad inquisitively, "are you interested in quidditch?"

your timidity allows for only a miniscule shake of the head.

suddenly, you're the centre of attention, and your guts get a little icky.

"what? maybe you just don’t know how it works," james quips, "s' alright, i’ll explain." and, merlin, please, can someone save you.

"this idiot here," sirius tells you, turning very swiftly, "believes he's the best player in the nation, and he's not even on the bloody quidditch team yet-"

"-but i'm auditioning this year! it's only cuz they don't allow first years to join the team-"

"-doesn't matter, cuz i'm still winning this year's competition, hands down-

"-wish you luck, sirius," peter interjects. he sounds completely unenthusiastic in his effort to join the argument. you're surprised he could manage, if his awkward stature was anything to go by. his knees, you note, touch his hands, even though he's sitting. very slouched. not how father would teach. but he doesn't seem too self-conscious.

the theme of sports continues. the trolley passes and they cluster to buy sweets, purchasing some extra for you. and extra in general. james spares no expenses, and then sirius goes to match, because apparently, everything's a competition between them, and so your dingy little compartment is slew with candy and you have no appetite.

really, the wrappers make your head spin, and it's much too warm. rain plasters on the window, and for a moment, the windowpane reflects you perfectly, a little face peering in, like it's trying to jam it's way inside.

barty, often, if he knew he did something bad, would beg you in a raspy voice to not snitch. not to his parents. you knew and he knew that if the occasion ever called for it, you were not above a good gossip. and so you would sit with his mother and sisters in the parlour room, holding matching, pretty teacups, and you would feel like an outsider weighted by information you never wanted to have.

much like now. all this menial chatter. an inside into sirius' social life that exists so far from the confines of familial relations. you have never seen him so happy, and when aunt walburga inquires of his moods because he won't be bothered to send an owl back, you will not know whether to lie or tell the truth.

in another time and place, you could possibly imagine regulus here, too. or maybe that would just make him feel worse. his isolation. always feeling the lesser. he'd be miserable in this company, but then the burden could be shared with two, and you wouldn't feel as lonely.

of course, that won't be an option. in this one, or the other.

***

your rescue arrives shy of an hour into your stay in that stuffy compartment. narcissa’s cold gaze cuts through the chatter instantaneously, and the overhead lights flicker on slowly to illuminate her haughty expression. how absolutely beautiful she is, even in the storm’s background. the plastic wrappers slide from the seats and puddle by your feet. the shuffle, the rain, the excited spur of your little heart. she regards each of them, pausing on sirius, “cousin.”

“cousin,” his face has scrunched up, as though he ate something sour.

a trace of a smile on her lips, all because of his displeasure. she turns to you, “let’s go.”

twice, today, you’ve been requested. twice, you have no say. while this does imply a certain necessity of your presence – an astounding popularity, how beloved you truly are! – you can only shudder at the thought at what other surprise will occur on this momentous day.

you move, but sirius stops you, “she wants to be here.”

“she needs to greet the rest of the family,” her voice carries a certain finality. no one dares to protest, and you pry yourself away before sirius thinks of a comeback scalding enough to earn him a smacking. or a howler, at the very least.

the corridor has become much more quiet. the doors are closed, and you don’t dare to peel your eyes away from her new kitten heels as you follow after.

cissy needn’t say much for you to know you’ve disappointed her. to be caught with sirius’ crowd is to step into dangerous territory. you feel as though you must explain yourself, because you don’t wish for her ire, nor do you wish for her indifference, “thank you. i didn’t know how to get away. you know how he can be.”

she sighs, “unfortunately, yes, i am quite familiar with his antics. always scheming up his silly, little plans, that one. he really is far too meddlesome, even moreso when it comes to you," she stops, only for you to catch up. looks at you proper, with her chin slightly tilted down to your level, "very clingy."

this pleases you a bit. no matter how irritating the boys can get, they are a sort of constant that brings you peace of mind. no matter the time, no matter the day, there is always at least one that is by your side. not having that would leave you rather desolate.

"they've gotten worse," she says, "what are we to do with such little gentlemen?"

your heart flutters at her mention of we. a sign of inclusion. her fond tone. perhaps the others don't hear her that way, and you certainly won't inform them of her secretly mushy nature, but there isn't a better friend than narcissa. there never will be. not even the others, though bonded far closer, will ever understand you as she does.

"how did you find me?" you ask.

she huffs, as if it's much too obvious, "regulus."

so he has been dutifully working behind the scenes to retrieve you. oh, how your mood improves! all in one day. not that it was bad, no, rather the opposite, but it is relieving to finally return to where you're meant to be.

and the compartment you're meant to be in is much too crowded. there's evan arguing with bartimus over a game of explosive sap, and there's matilda (no bow!) and marzy clamouring to out-pride each other, and there's regulus, the one that notices you first and the one that jumps up to offer you a seat, even if, well, you'd all fit anyway.

"finally," barty calls over his shoulder as you're safely returned, and cissy continues down the walkway, "what have you been up to, hm? the first train ride for larly toppings."

"larly toppings?" you murmur.

his mouth thins in an unimpressed line, "read more."

"she doesn't know how," regulus chimes, and oddly, you've missed the ease of his dull remarks. no matter if you were separated mere hours, your hearts have been made lighter just through proximity.

matilda snorts, "lay off, whiny. he's been moaning about your absence since he lost sight of you."

"have not!" he states hotly.

 evan lifts a curious brow, but his eyes remain fixed on the game.

"she was stuck," regulus tries to explain, "with my brother and his horrible friends. evan?"

he shrugs, "didn't think that'd stop her from walking away."

matilda is absolutely tickled. even you cannot help but laugh at the exasperated expression on reggie's face. marzy scoots and eagerly pats the seat beside her, which you happily take. it earns you a glare from the younger black, who plops back down next to the boys.

bartimus clicks his tongue and tosses a wrapped sweet into his mouth, "our darling is, and shall forever be, delicate and fragile," an aside glance, "of the utmost importance, and we have pledged a solemn duty to defend her honour from that reprobate of a cousin. it's for his own good. he simply doesn't understand, being so young and such."

your nose wrinkles. how pretentious, even if half-right. but, fine, you'll play along, if only to appease your friend and give him some reason to not glower at all hours of the day. he can be very grouchy when the situation calls.

"tell us, c'mon," marzy nudges, "meet cousin's friends?"

you shudder, "they're absolutely horrid. dreadful," you elaborate, and they nod along eagerly, "simply wretched, and so loud. all they talk about is quidditch."

the boys snap at attention.

"quidditch?!" they screech.

"ugh," matilda makes a face, "boring."

"i'm not a fan," marzy agrees.

"don't care for it," matilda adds.

"yeah, cuz you're girls," barty states, "what do you lot know of entertainment?"

"hey! i take offense," matilda throws an empty packet at him, and he moves to poke her.

evan rubs his temples and offers you a weak smile. at least he understands.

"so what's your favourite team?"

"oo, they'll talk about it for hours," matilda rolls her eyes.

marzy's lower lip pokes out, "because it's their 'hobby.'"

you snicker, "chasing balls like dogs. recon they'd be so enthusiastic over a bone?"

"brave words, poodle," regulus bristles.

"i recon you’d know better about chasing your tail," you bite back.

he tugs on your ear, "ow, stop it, let go you idiot!"

the girls scramble to help, "you don't do that!"

and he is towed off of you, thrown on the seat beside evan by two particularly vehement ladies. it takes no time for them to commence the lecturing, which quickly delves into the heartfelt portion of their speech, filled with high pitched, intonations and tears and the like.

"you must stop and consider your actions! we love her dearly, and can't stand to see her so distressed. surely you have noticed a great change in her disposition, not to mention-"

and barty makes a great mistake in trying to defend the great offender, and so he receives an earful, too, "how could you simply sit there and watch her be treated like that? and then dare to stand up for-"

"fine. alright, already!"

beneath his scuffling and exasperated state, barty almost smiles. and the girls tussle his hair, and turn to you, all watered eyes and frowns. "if there is ever an issue, you can tell us," marzy says, "i'll tell theodore! brother will sort the boy right out."

"maybe his mother, too," matilda suggests.

you feign being torn, "no, no! i couldn't."

"we can, but fine, it's your call."

"can't believe this," regulus mutters.

evan grimaces and turns to him, "all in good fun. i think."

the commotion dies down for a moment as marzy fishes out her tissues – one for matilda, one for herself, and one for you. to dab the tears glistening in the corners of your eyes, of course. it’s a very delicate, grown up gesture. mrs nott is an emotional woman, and you three had learned a lot from watching her sob at luncheons (at spring, specifically, when there’s clouds of pollen in the air).

regulus looks at you and asks, "want a caramel?"

you look at him for a while, a rather dumbfounded look about you, and shake your head no. you take the lemon one instead, for the irony of it.

and with that, you all settle, in a very serene manner, a slight disturbance now and again from the rolling tracks. the others talk over you as you look over your treat, thoughtful and malleable. no, it seems that, in this manner, life will continue unchanged. even after school is established, this, your circle, will endure and persist, and you won't have a need to leave anyone, no matter what comes between you.

oh, but what of sirius? you would so like for him to get along with your rowdy lot. but it's no good, if it's him, because he has his own group, and he wants nothing to do with yours. still, you would share your treat with him, and he wouldn't like the flavour but he would pretend that he did to make you happy.

cissy words linger, but you don't understand why. nor any deeper implications. you will yourself not to think of such things.

***

a quick summary of events before this very moment:

one, after the sugar rush, your compartment had died down significantly. seats were changed, and while inspecting the tome on the history of hogwarts (terrible read, really, you'll detest history of magic, you just know it!) you and regulus had fallen asleep.

two, bartimus had accidentally left explosive crackers by an unassuming door leading to a compartment occupied, accidentally, by muggles, which spooked them immensely. they fled like puffskins in each and every direction as the fireworks cackled and smoke billowed, lingering in the corridor. this is how he met frank longbottom, a gryffindor prefect, and received a stern warning, which only left him pondering about further opportunities of mischief.

three, evan, searching for a chocolate frog, had located a box of marzipan sweets, which greatly upset marzy, because marzipan nott is a ridiculous name and she was rightly ridiculed by bartimus for a good 15 minutes before matilda locked him out of the compartment.

four, after changing into your school uniforms, the lot of you sat in silence nursing a nasty stomach-ache.

five, you briefly saw sirius and his friends at hogsmeade station, and james potter waved at you, which upset regulus, so he didn't speak with you for the remaining boat ride. you had decided he's not worth the fuss, and simply enjoyed the cool, wet air and the gentle lull of the wooden boat drawing closer to the castle that will, from now, be considered your home. the sky, by then, had cleared, and the moon was split in half by the astronomy tower.

the great hall is astoundingly grand. your shoes echo and the chattering whispers are a pleasant buzz. it seems as though no one quite wants to separate. your friends surround you, admiring the enchanted sky and the warm twinkle of floating candles. "they're everywhere. look."

regulus points, as he noticed first, and you move your head to follow their patterns. you've never seen anything like it before. it's quite a thing, how all the children look upward, stumbling after professor mcgonagall and closer and closer to the sorting hat. sat atop a rickety stool, you try to catch a glimpse at it, though all you can see is the pointy tip.

on your left sits the slytherin table, with cissy and rabastan; to your right is sirius with his friends, and further is hufflepuff, and further still is ravenclaw. marzy, unable to help herself, waves at her brother, and you see him stand and wave back, a new, shiny ravenclaw prefect badge pinned to his robes.

"oh," she sounds very distressed, and her tanned skin blotches a deep rose, "i hope i'm in ravenclaw," she utters, then snaps, "no!" she turns to you and regulus, stood shoulder to shoulder, taken aback by the fervour in her voice, "slytherin. i don't want to be without you."

barty shrugs, "plenty of chances. we'll come for a visit anyway."

"of course we will," you confirm, and pat her arm gently.

"you'll do well wherever you are," matilda pats her arm, too.

you'd like to say the sorting doesn't matter much at all, but it does. ravenclaw is not too egregious, however, and it would bely an intelligence you didn't know she had, which would be a pleasant surprise to everyone. hufflepuff is tolerable. the only hufflepuff you know is aunt berry yaxley, but no one talks to her much.

gryffindor is off limits, but marzy would never fit the criteria. you, however...

bartimus gives the both of you a sceptical look. the chatter dims for a moment as dumbledore stands and delivers his yearly introduction. the sorting hat starts singing, and the lyrics were included in the brochure, but you didn't bother reading. regulus finds singing embarrassing, so the two of you hum along, but bartimus, unsurprisingly, has quite a pair of lungs on him.

finally, the sorting begins. professor mcgonagall unfurls a lengthy parchment, and the hall hushes eagerly. you feel the tension slowly settle on your shoulders as the names are called. to some, this is simply a sorting. to you, it will decide your fate.

"black, regulus," and the pin drop silence is slightly unnerving. you glance at reggie as he glances at you, and you don't have time to read his expression before he's off, weaving through the students to take a seat under the brim of the worn sorting hat. you clasp your hands together tightly.

"SLYTHERIN!"

clapping erupts. all of you brim with happy smiles, but regulus remains stoic. his eyes dart to gryffindor before he shuffles to join cissy, growing more miserable as the slytherin table drowns him in congratulations.

"crouch, bartimus," mcgonagall sounds.

"expelled," matilda hisses, and to the surprise of all, barty doesn't flip her the bird.

the hat covers his eyes before, "SLYTHERIN!"

and he's much happier to receive the standing ovation. you can see it on his face: the rush, the pride when he slides onto his bench, a smug, lopsided grin etched onto his features, right beside a quiet regulus.

a few more names, and then yours. the crowd shushes again. this year holds many important names, some youngest members of the secret twenty eight. all eyes, on you, again, and marzy nudges you to move as your gaze gets stuck on sirius. he seems hopeful. a small smile lifts his lips and you feel yourself breathe in and hold.

your fingers shake, but you walk with your back straight, just like aunt walburga taught you.

you sit down, and mcgonagall offers you a placid smile. you'd prefer her not to draw it out and let you keep your sanity.

it barely grazes the top of your hair before it bellows, "SLYTHERIN!"

you blink, deafened by the cheering. dizzied, you stand on quivering legs, and you look to sirius, because he had assured you and himself different, but he's not even looking at you. his brows are creased and his jaw is clenched. not the way you want to see him. it was a terrible thing to wish, after all. the disappointment.

but the welcome, oh, anyone would love to be so accepted. regulus smiles, a rare, honest quirk of the lip, and he beams just a little bit when he notices the tight expression on your face, so proud and yet so filled with concern, like your happiness meant more to him than his own. you are pulled to sit beside him and barty as your robes stripe green, and cissy smiles and pats your cheek, and everything is as it should be in the world.

just not exactly how you imagined.

[littlekohai77]

Pole vault

🅆🄰🅁🄽🄸🄽🄶🅂: reader being insecure and having a horrible self image, colorism cause Asian beauty standards are toxic. Reader mentioned to not be as white as A4 paper. Reader mentioned to be chubby and short. Reader lowkey checking hyun-su out.

It always infuriates you when you react to something in a manner that's slightly... Humiliating. When you can't hide how much you're affected. Whether that be for a positive or a negative thing.

You hate that all your emotions show up on your face. You hate that people can read you so easily. That people know exactly what cards to play to get to you.

That's exactly what you had thought when Hyun-su first approached you.

You were freshly dumped out of a toxic friend group when he'd met you.

At first you didn't pay him much mind. He was irresistible, yes. But... You knew he'd never like you. He was literally wanted by every girl in school. All they had left to do to get the point across was physically hunt him down.

You weren't conventionally pretty, skinny or social.

You didn't have too many friends in high school, just a senior and his little sister to hang around. And of course, the kind janitor.

Nobody really wanted to hang out with you, and... It might've been your fault. Partly.

You had been quite guarded and hostile during your freshman year, after getting bullied in middle school. Which drove people away. Cause aint nobody got the time to climb that wall.

But he did.

You two didn't even met all too often, small run ins at the convenient store that happens to stock your favorite drink and happens to be close to his school.

Passing by each other on the way to home. You'd be leaving a little late, cleaning up the club room with Eun-hyuk.

As soon as you'd step out the gate, you'd bump into him. Coincidentally. So many times... The timing so perfect you'd almost be convinced that he was waiting for you.

But of course he wouldn't. You two don't even know each other.

But he always tried to strike up conversations. At first, it was annoying. Painfully so, to be having to respond to small talk. Your head aching.

You had acted rudely quite a few times. Which he either laughed off, stayed quiet for 5 minutes, or give a rebuttal. The latter would ensue a verbal fist fight.... A one sided verbal fist fight. With you delivering the most hints and him walking it off.

You didn't understand what made him stick around. You wouldn't hang out with yourself either, than.. Why?

But then he began to grow on you. You began to somewhat look forward to it. At the time you'd blamed it on the made up fact that he'd become a part of your routine.

But now that you look back on it, that fondness was probably you finally beginning to accept him as a friend.

"Why that face? "

"What do you mean? " you responded, wiping away the obvious frown you had previously. Damnit, he has sharp eyes.

"Your face, are you.. Upset today? " his head tilted to the right, resembling a curious puppy.

"Maybe... " you shrugged, not really wanting to elaborate.

"Why? " he leaned in closer to your side.

Which made you a bit annoyed...or rather flustered "What why? "

"Well.. Tell me. "

"You... Wanna know? " you sounded surprised. And your surprise seemed to have made him surprised. As if he didn't expect that people don't actually wanna hear other's problems.

"I wanna. " he vehemently nodded his head, his fluffy hair bouncing in a way that made your fingers twitch at your side, wanting to touch it.

"Well... I've been.. Failing chemistry lately.. " you looked ahead at the road and slightly sped up your pace.

"Mhm.. "

"And... It's really taking a toll on me. "

"But why? "

You released a sigh through your nose in frustration, even if he grew on you, there was still a part of him that you hated, his 'why's that would dig into the parts that you didn't want to discuss, the parts that made you squirmy. Embarrassed.

"What do you mean 'why' ???!!? "

"Why do you care about your grades so much? "

"I... Isn't that normal? To care? " your attempted to deflect.

"Well... Yeah but.. Usually that's when your parents also care. And... It seems you dad doesn't necessarily? "

"... You know my dad? "

"Ran into him thrice. "

"Oh well.. You won't get it. " and that was your dismissal. The one thing he couldn't yet break past in this acquaintance like relationship that you share, that existed only on the road to home. And it upset him, that much you could gauge from his pout.

Silence ensued

"...."

".... "

"Okay... Maybe I won't" he muttered with a sigh of defeat. Clutching the strap of his book bag and bouncing it higher on his left shoulder.

More silence.

But not meaningless silence.

He was scratching the back of his head, and pulling at his bangs. Seemed like he had his thinking cap on.

"But, how about this? I'm pretty okay at chemistry so.. I'll tutor you? "

"For how much? "

"Uhm.. I dunno..free? "

You were surprised he'd be that generous.. But maybe it's not that surprising considering he's talking to you.

"You're not taking anything? "

"Not that I can think of... What are you willing to give? "

"Uhmm... Not money? "

He gave you a feigned glare of judgement.

"Cheapskate."

Oh... Had it struck 6:00 pm already? Seems like it's time for your routinely one sided verbal assault.

"Says the one who buys nearly expired bread. Thinks he's all that with that Vector lookin ass hair cut. Wearing above the knee shorts like a kindergartener but I guess it suits you since you got the mentality of one too. Would explain why you got spinach in your teeth-ALSO you said you don't want money, so that shouldn't even matter! You're just tryna get under my skin at this poi-"

"Tutor me in physics. "

"Huh? "

"Tutor, me, in, physics. "

"You're bad at physics of all things? " now it was your turn to be judgemental.

"Yeah, I know. Tragic that someone as perfect as me can have imperfections. But I believe that makes me all the more charming!!✨" the way he brushed his hair back and stepped under the street light made you want to roll your eyes into the next dimension.

"Stop acting like Tamaki. "

"Thought you liked him? " he grins that infuriatingly charming grin and wiggles his eye brows teasingly.

"That was a horrible impression. " you say after a feigned gag.

"Ehhhh whatever. Gimme your number. "

"Huh? "

"For the tutoring session? I mean, if it's like at your house and mine, I'm fine with that too... Not that I know your address so.... Might need that. "

Of course... He'd never ask for your number.

A realization hits you and you suddenly start stomping off. BECAUSE WHY THE HELL WOULD YOU CARE ABOUT HIM ASKING FOR YOUR NUMBER?? IT'S NOT LIKE YOU HAD A CRUSH ON HIM OR ANYTHING??? BRO IS YOUR SELF ESTEEM REALLY THAT LOW THAT YOU'D GET AFFECTED EACH TIME A PRETTY BOY DOESN'T WANNA BE WITH YOU????? AJHZJAHXJNSZN

"OIIIII! WAIT! WHAT HAPPENED??!! WHAT THE HEL-"

He yelled, running after you. Grabbing your hand and turning you around, and your forehead hit his chin.

"Ouch! Ahhhh... " he mutters rubbing it. You didn't apologize, head too busy spinning in circles. His hold wasn't that strong. It was firm.. But you could definitely break it off had you tried.

"What's the matter? I mean, if it's too much.. Fine we can forget we ever agreed to that. I just... I just wanted to help....... "

Silence from you.

"Look I.... I wasn't trying to upset you so like... I'm sorry if I did... Can you... " he looks into your eyes pleadingly and all you give him back is silence.

"Can you at least tell me so that... So that I can properly apologize? " he was nervous. He looked like he was an inch away from whimpering like a kicked puppy. And you slowly began to come back from your disassociative state.

"No it's... Uhhh.." Why's he looking at you with those eyes...

"Yes? "

"Sure I'll give you my number... And... Anddd... "

"And? " and then you kinda just rambled off without thinking because you'd become hyper aware for his hand around your wrist and his warm touch against your cold.

"Andddd.... Annddd we can't do it at home... They'll... Probably assume that we're.... We're.... "

"Dating? "

"Yeah... That... " you nodded, staring at his lips and nose. Too afraid to look into his eyes. Too afraid that you'd crumble to your knees at the sight. At the touch of him against you. Why does it feel so nice? It's like you're floating. It's making you dizzy. Because it's him, Hyun-su. The boy you used to watch play from your window when you were 9. The one you'd leave random things for on his doorstep. Hoping at least he'd notice. He didn't have to like it. Just acknowledge them. He probably doesn't remember the many times you've met before. Because you were a nobody. A nobody that he was now standing in front of. Holding onto. His was so close. You could almost smell his cologne and a hint of sweat. His body was so close. Heat literally radiating off of it. You could make out the muscles under his shirt. God you were such a pervert.

"Hey... You okay? " when that sweet saccharine voice of his flows into your ear, you feel like you might just collapse. Fuck, when did his face get so close? Your knees are starting to buckle and you hope that you crash into his chest when you fall. So that you can hear if his heart is beating as fast as yours. Maybe that'd break this fantasy of yours. Because who'd want to be with you. You were chubby. Your inner thighs brushed against each other when you walked, you got tummy rolls when you sat down. You were short. Your skin wasn't pale. You didn't have any particular talents. Your only sense of self worth based on your scores-

"Y/n?? " now both his hands were on your cheeks, squishing your face slightly. His worried yet angelic face so close you felt like you were suffocating, heart in your throat.

A car horn broke the haze.

You peeled off his hands and continued walking.

After a few paces you uttered a number as he stayed behind, beyond confused.

"xxxxxxxxxxxxxx"

"What? "

"My number? "

"Oh... Could you repeat that? " he quickly pulled out his cellphone. Growing confused when you picked at your nails.

"Hmmm... I don't know... My throats kinda dry... A soda would help me speak... " you thought he probably would give up after this.

"ALRIGHT! LESSS GO!! ☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*"

He was so overjoyed that he almost dropped his phone. Grabbing onto your hand and running across the street so fast that you almost got whiplash.

His touch was still electrifying. But not like before, where it was to the point that you wanted to squirm away.

When you two arrived at the convenient store, you were the one to break off his hold. As you could feel your lips quirking up. And you didn't want that. You didn't want to be vulnerable in front of him. Not yet.

He was nice. Probably the nicest guy you'd ever met and you didn't want that illusion to be broken too quickly. So let him be cautious, let him think he doesn't affect you.

As you left the convenient store, sipping your soda and his phone in hand, dialing in your number.

You took a glance at his lock screen before returning it. "You're such a basic bitch. "

"Heyy!" He just pouted in return.

Silence again...

But...

Oddly.. Okay?

Comfortable even.

"Did you mean that when you said there's spinach in my teeth? "

Of course he never shuts up. And you loved him for that. Because he didn't just climb that wall. He fucking pole vaulted over it.

*･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･*

I might've portrayed him wrong but I wanted to give off the feeling that he was really comfortable around reader. And also this is before he got bullied so... Yeah. Probably didn't portray reader's insecurities well enough either. This is so cringe god help me I just wanna get to monster part.

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