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nyankochan · 2 months

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Hashira Training: Wifely Duties

Synopsis: Your husband is working hard to train the members of the Demon Slayer corps in preparation for the upcoming battle with Muzan. However, they seem a bit stressed. You decide to help in other ways, like a good wife. Pairings: [SEPARATE] Uzui x Reader, Giyu x Reader, Obanai x Reader, Sanemi x Reader, Rengoku x Reader, Gyomei x Reader

Content: MDNI, fem! reader, oral male & female receiving, dacryphilia (Uzui), bath sex (Uzui), bondage (Obanai), pregnancy (Himejima), unprotected sex, rough sex (Sanemi), overstimulation, breeding (Rengoku), I hope I didn’t forget anything else but sorry if I did.

Word count: 7.2K (bruh)

A/N: Just finished the Hashira Training Arc. No anime episode has ever stressed me more than that finale...Added Rengoku as a hypothetical what-if since he's my favorite hashira. Muichiro excluded since he's a little baby but I still love him.

Uzui Tengen: Former Sound Hashira

“Move your asses! If you don’t finish the last rep, no dinner for you tonight!”

Your husband’s loud voice carries a great distance, no surprise coming from the former sound hashira. This allows you to find him and your other co-wives fairly easily as you make your way up the mountain side where Tengen’s endurance camp had been set up.

You’re met with a somewhat…comedic(?) sight..of your flashy husband dressed in a casual kimono swinging a wooden sword at the fallen demon slayers who were clearly on the verge of passing out from exhaustion. You couldn’t help but feel pity for the poor kids.

“If you don’t get it together you’ll never survive what the other hashira have in store,” Tengen huffed, seemingly more annoyed than angry.

“Now now, Tengen-sama, don’t be so hard on the kids,” you sigh, setting down the extra pot you had been tasked with bringing to help prepare dinner. “You’ll end up giving them all nightmares.”

The way Tengen’s face lights up when he sees you makes your heart flutter. "Y/n! I was wondering where you went off to."

"I asked her to go back home to grab another stew pot," Makio chimed in, all while throwing a subtle glare towards a Suma. "Since someone forgot to do what they were told and bring it like asked.

Suma proceeds to hide behind you and Hinatsuru as you help her with the rice for the onigiri. "Uwahh! Y/n-san! Hinatsuru-san! Makio-san is targeting me again!"

"Please, don't start," You sigh.

"We all need to do our part," Hinatsuru said, like the mature woman of the group she was. "Let's do our best with dinner so that we aren't inconveniencing Tengen-sama."

With four sets of hands, you guys get dinner done by sundown, the smell of fresh onigiri and beef stew wafting through the air. However, the poor demon slayers were so worn out from your husband's brutal training, you don't think any of them would have the energy to even think about eating. Still, Tengen snaps at them to do so as to not let you all's hard work go to waste.

"Tengen-sama, please try to relax a little," you gently say, tugging on the end of his kimono. You offer him a bowl you had prepared. "It's not good to get so worked up."

Although grateful, Tengen doesn't say anything as he takes the food you offered, sipping the broth in silence.

That night, you soak in the Uzui Manner's private onsen, the stress of the day clouding your thoughts. You’re worried. You know the final battle against Muzan will inevitably happen, but you’re terrified. For your friends. For your family. What if Tengen has to come out of retirement to help? What if you and your co-wives are caught in the middle like in the Red Light District?

You’re so in your head that you don’t even hear the door open and someone enter. “What a surprise. I thought you were in bed by now.”

Tengen’s voice startles you and you’re quick to sink into the water to cover yourself. Your husband’s laughter fills your ears. “What are you being shy for?” Clad in nothing but a towel, you gawk at your husband’s physique. Despite officially retiring from the Demon Slayer Corps, his consistent training kept him in shape.

“You just surprised me…that’s all…”

Tengen settles behind you in the bath, the water sloshing as he enters and pulls you into his lap. You relax against his chest. “You wanna tell me what you were thinking about?” He asks, tracing his hand down your side making you shiver involuntarily.

“N-no….its nothing. But you seemed stressed earlier, Tengen-sama. Is there anything I can do for you.”

Tengen sighs, leaning back against the edge of the bath, arms spread and muscles tense. “It’s nothing, love, don’t worry.”

You frown. You then turn so that you’re straddling Tengen’s lap, the water splashing with your movement. Tengen raises a brow in confusion, but doesn’t question your actions. “P-please allow me to help you, Tengen-sama.”

Tengen chuckles, cupping your cheek gently. “You already do more than enough for me, and for that I’m very grateful.” The kiss he pressed against your lips starts off soft, only to grow more intense and desperate. You squirm, letting out a small whimper.

Feeling you rock against him, Tengen groans, his cock beginning to harden. He scoops you up underneath your thighs with one hand, not breaking your kiss. As he lays you down on the onsen deck, you shiver at the cold feeling of the stone. Tengen trails gentle kisses down your neck while his fingers grace your clit, stimulating the sensitive nerves.

“W-wait. W-wait,” you suddenly protest. Tengen pulls back, worried he hurt you. “I-I want to be of use to you, Tengen-sama. Please let me please you.”

Tengen wears a rather perplexed expression before chuckling. He sits back on the end of the bath. “Ok then, please me.”

You drop to your knees before your husband, taking his cock gently into your hands. It’s already stiff with arousal, pre pearling at the fat tip. Your finger traces the thick vein running up the side of Tengen’s length, making him twitch.

Tengen groaned as your warm mouth enveloped him, his head leaning back in satisfaction as his fingers gripped your hair tightly. You immediately began to suck, feeling your jaw strain as he began to swell in size. Tears prickled in your eyes, and you rest your hands on Tengen’s thighs to steady yourself.

"Mhmm fuck," Tengen moaned deeply. His low raspy voice only turned you on more. He gripped Your hair harsher and pulled you closer; you nearly gag. "Fuck. Don't stop. Use your hand. Fuck. There you go.”

You eagerly obliged, sucking him harder and taking more of him, or as much as you could cause he was just so damn big. Tears trickle down your cheeks, and it takes all Tengen’s willpower to not buck into your mouth. The sight of you looking at him so innocently, crying as you try to take his size almost has him coming down your throat. You can tell he’s close to his release from the way he tenses, muscles tightening, yet he quickly pulled you away.

“T-Tengen-sama?” You question, out of breath. Before you can react, Tengen has you pulled into his lap and your knees pressed to your chest with his arms wrapped under your legs in a rather embarrassing position that has your cunt exposed. In a single thrust, the tip of his cock kisses your cervix and you’re crying out.

Tengen rests his head against your back, breathing heavily. “You’re so good to me.” He groans at the feeling of your warm cunt wrapping snuggly around him. “I love you so much.” Tengen’s grip tightens, pulling your legs back further as his hips buck up, stretching you further. The slightly uncomfortable position makes you whimper.

“But tonight, I’m going to fuck you like I don’t.”

Iguro Obanai: Serpent Hashira

You know how ruthless and impatient your husband can be, so you pity the poor slayers who were stuck in the vicious vice-like hold Obanai’s training has. Most of them had been there for at least a week, if not more, unable to perform at a level that satisfied your husband. So, you’ve taken on somewhat of a nurse role, providing first aid to the many bruises, welts and rope burns the slayers received as part of the training. Your hope was that your treatment would lessen the pain of entering the baths.

“There! All done,” you say, closing up your first aid kit having just treated the cut on one member’s face. “Next time, remember to guard your vital spots. You’re lucky it was only training. A demon wouldn’t be so forgiving.”

“R-right! T-thank you Mrs. Iguro!”

You wave the slayer off as you finish packing your things up. Though you try to ignore it, you can still hear the whispering about your husband.

“How did such a sweet woman end up with a man like the serpent hashira?”

“Yeah the only real demon here is him…”

You grit your teeth in annoyance, prepared to say something when the sliding doors slam open. The atmosphere tenses as your husband walks in, a very angry and intense aura surrounding him.

“If you have time for idle chatter then you must not have worked hard enough,” Obanai scowled, Kaburamaru hissing around his neck. The slayers all quickly scramble to their feet and ran to grab their swords and avoid Obanai’s wrath.

You tug on his haori, stopping him from moving. “Dear, be nice.”

The scowl on his face somewhat softens only to immediately return when a new person announces their presence: Kamado Tanjiro.

“I look forward to training under you,” Tanjiro says, as cheerful as ever. Either he didn’t see your husband’s murderous look or he didn’t care. “Ah! Hello to you too Mrs. Y/n!”

You return the bright smile with one of your own. “It’s great to see that you’ve recovered well, Kamado-kun.”

“Oí! Don’t be so casual with my wife like you’re friends!” Obanai snapped. “And the rest of you stop gawking at her!”

You can only sigh. Of course, anything that you said practically went in one ear and out the other, and Obanai was so rough with the trainees you were surprised he didn’t break anything. Poor Tanjiro in particular seemed to get the brunt of your husband’s annoyance, leaving him with thankfully only some bruising since the training was conducted with practice swords instead of real blades. However, Obanai wouldn’t let treat anyone’s wounds this time around. The moment he ordered for them to scram somewhere, he dragged you out the dojo and back to the main house.

His grip on your wrist was tight, and you knew better than to protest when he was in his foul moods. But the fact that he hadn’t uttered a single word was making you somewhat anxious for what was to come. Was he somehow pissed off at you too?

Once you make it to your shared room and Kaburamaru slithers off somewhere, Obanai closes the sliding door. It’s just the two of you, the tension in the air is suffocating.

“U-um…O-Obanai…a-are you mad?” you try to break the silence only to receive the most piercing glare from your husband’s dual colored eyes, making you hush up instantly.

“Mad?” Obanai scoffs. “Nothing you do can make me mad at you. But…” His eyes trained to yours as he backs you into your shared futon. “I hate the way those idiots gawk and act too friendly with you. You’re my wife. You’re mine and mine alone.”

Obanai grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. His intense gaze while nerve racking is so insanely attractive that you’re whimpering quietly, trying to rub your thighs together in desperate need. Obanai picks up on this and lets out a low chuckle.

“I guess I have to remind you in other ways that you belong to me. Clothes. Off.”

You quickly start taking your kimono off, untying the Obi sash. Clearly you don’t move fast enough for your husband’s liking as he flips you on to your back and starts pulling the fabric off of you.

“W-wait, O-Obanai!” Your cheeks flush in embarrassment. Obanai ignores your pleas, and proceeds to use your obi to intricately tie up your l your wrists behind your back, pinning your arms almost uncomfortably together.

“Don’t you look pretty,” Obanai hums in amusement, pleased with the way the bindings were. He grabs your wrists and forces you to bend over, ass in the air. Obanai nudges your legs up to have a clear view of your dripping cunt, to which he inserts a finger, then two. You helplessly squirm against the restraints, keening against his touch.

“You’re so greedy,” Obanai scoffs. “You’re just sucking my fingers in.”

“Please, Obanai,” you beg. “I need you inside me.”

“Hm…since you asked so nicely.”

You hear him shuffle around, presumably to remove his clothes. You then feel the heat of his chest as he leans over you. Although he was somewhat rough with the restraints, Obanai is tender when he kisses your shoulder blade.

With one hand on you waist and the other on your wrists, Obanai inches his cock into you, groaning at how tight you feel around him. He bottoms out easily and you moan at the uncomfortable arch the position puts you in.

“M-move…p-please…” you whimper.

Obanai chuckles. He pulls out just to the tip before thrusting back in, setting a rough yet steady pace. His cock reaches so deep thanks to the position he has you in, making you gasp each time it kisses your cervix.

“Fuck…you feel so good…” Obanai groans. Usually he’s not one to be overly vocal during sex, but the heat of your cunt was just so addicting and he thought he would lose his mind.

“P-please…” you stumble over your words as he pounds into you. “C-can I hold you?”

Obanai falters briefly, his chest feeling strangely full. How do you always find a way to be so sweet to him? You were going to be the death of him.

Nonetheless, he unties the knot to release your wrists. He flips you over, realigning his throbbing cock at your entrance. You immediately wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist to pull him close. Both of you let out shaky moans as he thrusts back in. You gently kiss at the scars on his mouth, and he shivers in response, taking one of your hands to intertwine with his.

“I love you,” he mutters so quietly you almost don’t catch it. You nuzzle into his touch.

“I love you too.”

Shinazugawa Sanemi: Wind Hashira

You’re currently pissed at your husband and ignoring him. You ignoring him has him even more pissed off, so the Shinazugawa mansion is tense and a literal war zone. The impending war against Muzan is inevitable. While you understand that, you see no reason why your husband has to be such a dick to everyone. Especially to his own younger brother.

“That damn bastard, who does he think he is, going off the rails like that,” you angrily mutter under your breath as you threat Genya’s injuries. He winced at the antiseptic on his cut. You frown. “Sorry sweetheart…”

“It’s ok…Y/n-nee…” Genya says half heartedly. The recent fight between the Shinazugawa brothers ended up escalating to a dangerous point. If it weren’t for Tanjiro’s interference, there probably would’ve been more injuries. And having known the Shinazugawa brothers since childhood, you were fiercely protective of Genya. So seeing Sanemi attack his brother the way he did without any hesitation was literally your last straw.

“I’m sorry…” Genya said.

“Hm? For what?”

“For causing trouble in you and nii-san’s marriage…” the younger boy avoids looking you in the eye. “if only I could use breathing techniques and weren’t so weak…then maybe he’d acknowledge me.”

“Awe, Gen, don’t say that,” you say, pulling the younger boy into a tight hug against your chest. “Your actions have nothing to do with my marriage. Your brother is just being a pain in the ass but that doesn’t mean I still don’t love him. I know he has a shitty way of showing it, but he does care. I’m sorry that you’ve somehow gotten in the middle of our marital problems. I promise things will get better. For all of us.”

You finish tending to his injuries before placing a tender kiss on his forehead, like you used to do when you were kids. Still, Genya’s face explodes red at your babying, making you laugh as you take your exit. As you leave, you’re surprised to see your husband standing outside the door with his arms crossed. Your face sours.

“The fuck you want?” You snap.

“Still got a fuckin attitude?” He retorts.

“Says you.” You walk off in a huff. Sanemi sighs and runs after you.

“Y/n, wait. Please talk to me.”

“About what?” You say bitterly. “I don’t got shit to say to you after the stunt you pulled. I don’t want to hear anything from you unless it’s an apology.”

“Fuck, fine I’m sorry! Now will you listen to me?!” Sanemi desperately said, grabbing a hold of your wrist to stop you. Your eyes narrow, not trusting his words. “Look. I know I was wrong but I can’t take anymore of you ignoring me and doting all over Genya.”

You snatch your hand away, scowling. “So now you’re jealous of your kid brother? I used to change his goddamn diapers.”

“That’s not…ugh fuck. Come with me!” Once more Sanemi grabs your arm, dragging you through the manner against your protests. He brings you to your shared room, which for the past few weeks you’ve stopped sleeping in out of spite. Sanemi closes the door, locking it shut.

“Now what? You got me alone.” You scoff.

“Ugh just shut up!” Sanemi yells, grabbing your chin and kissing you frantically, almost desperately. Your response is muffled and your knees immediately go weak as he forces his tongue in your mouth to deepen the kiss. You’re gasping for air by the time Sanemi pulls away. He buries his head into your shoulder, inhaling your scent that he’s missed so much.

“I’m sorry…dammit…” Sanemi’s voice cracks slightly. “I don’t want to lose you too. I couldn’t bear losing another person so important to me…so please, stop being mad at me…I’m sorry.”

“Nemi…” You cup his cheek before pinching it harshly making him hiss. “You dumbass. That’s what this was all about?I didn’t realize you were this goddamn emotionally constipated.” You sigh, Sanemi now glaring at you while rubbing his cheek. You gently kiss the tip of his nose. “I’m not going anywhere any time soon, okay? I promise.”

Sanemi exhales, almost like a sigh of relief. “Okay.” He kisses you again, this time gentler as if he’s afraid you’ll leave. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper. “I’ve missed you.” Sanemi muttered. His hands begin to wander, trailing up the side of your waist under your uniform.

“Did you miss me, or my body?” You tease.

“Mhm? Both.”

“You’re such a tease.”

“Yet you love me anyway.”

Sanemi kisses you again with more force, all while guiding you down to your shared futon. His hands are rough, groping your breasts, pinching your nipples that stiffen at his touch. You roll your hips upward to press against the growing bulge in his pants. Sanemi groans, biting your lip.

“You like testin’ my patience, don’t you?” Sanemi huffs.

“That depends,” you taunt, beginning to unbutton your uniform top. Sanemi swallows thickly, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “You gonna do something about it?”

Sanemi grit his teeth. He grabbed you by the waist, flipping you on your backside, the rest of your clothes torn off from his own impatience. “It looks like I’ll just have to fuck the attitude out of you.”

Your husband makes do of his promise, fucking you senseless into the sheets, weeks of built up tension between the two of you finally being released. He’s aggressive and rough, gripping at your hips so tightly they’d probably bruise. Your neck is littered with bite marks, while Sanemi’s already scared torso has fresh red scratches from the way you grabbed at him. Not that he minded.

“F-fuck,” Sanemi groaned, relishing the way you clenched around his cock. His hips snapped against yours, making you gasp and shudder. “Fuck I missed this. I missed you. Don’t ever fucking ignore me again.”

“N-Nemi, please, I’m close,” you whimper.

Sanemi grins. He puts your legs over his shoulder, pressing down to pin your thighs back in a mating press. The position, though uncomfortable, allows for his cock to reach even deeper. You feel so deliciously full, Tears prickling in your eyes. you cover your mouth trying to hide the sultry moans leaving your lips.

“Nope, I need to hear you,” Sanemi pants, pulling your hair. Your cries are music to his ears. “I need everyone to know how good I fuck my beautiful wife.”

He uses the pad of his thumb to wipe away your stray tears before kissing you tenderly. His pace faltered just a bit, making his thrusts more sloppy as his low grunts turned into airy moans. "Ah fuck I'm gonna come."

Sanemi gave one last deep thrust that had you gasping for air. You shivered feeling yourself be filled while your own orgasm hit. After he was sure he finished, Sanemi pulled out and sat back on his heels. He stared down you with a satisfied look on his face as some of his seed leaked from your swollen sex.

He scooped up some that spilled on to the bed and shoved it back into you. You whimpered from the overstimulation. "N-no more."

"Don't tell me what to do," Sanemi huffed. He aligned his cock at your entrance again and sank in with ease. He lets out a satisfied sigh and pulls you to his chest. "There. Now it'll stay in."

Tomioka Giyu: Water Hashira

“Tomioka-San? Hello! Tomioka-San? Excuse me? Are you there? Sorry to bother you. It’s Kamado Tanjiro!”

It’s the third day in a row the young boy has come by. At this point, you find it quite comical but you can tell your husband is losing his patience.

“Just entertain him, dear,” you say, folding up the laundry. “You know he’s not going to stop until you answer.”

Giyu doesn’t say anything before picking up his katana and leaving the room. You sigh. He had been so distant since the hashira training started. For some reason, he opted not to participate, and you could only assume that’s why Tanjiro’s been by every day to convince him otherwise. Nothing you could say would really change his mind either. The last few nights Giyu had been staying out later, only returning when he knew you’d fallen asleep and leaving first thing in the morning.

You didn’t want to push and pry, but you hope he’d open up soon. Or maybe, hopefully Tanjiro could talk some sense into him. You decide to at least go to the door and greet the boy.

“Giyu-San!? Maybe he’s not home…”

“He just left, in fact,” you say, opening the door. “Maybe you can catch him for me.”

“Ah! Y/n-san! H-hello! Sorry if I disturbed you!” Tanjiro said with a bow.

“No not at all! You’re always welcome here.” You then sigh. “Sorry my stubborn husband is causing you such trouble. If it’s not too much to ask, please talk some sense into him. I’m sure whatever it is it’s important.

Tanjiro smiled. “Of course! Leave it to me!”

For the next five days, Tanjiro shows up, trying to get your husband to talk to him. You’re thoroughly entertained by the situation that you do little to mitigate, ignoring Giyu’s obvious and desperate looks for help. After almost two weeks of this, Giyu finally comes home early one night with a rather defeated expression. You’re in bed reading when he enters your shared room and immediately collapses on the futon.

“Rough day?” You tease.

“Tanjiro doesn’t know when to quit,” Giyu sighs. He sheds his haori and places his is katana off to the side. “He wanted to have a soba eating contest?”

You laugh. “Did you win?”

“No. I yielded and promised to help with the hashira training.” Giyu doesn’t seem to thrilled by it from the tone of his voice. You frown, close your book and motion for your husband closer. Like a child, he crawls into your lap, laying his head against your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist. Giyu sighs contently, inhaling your scent.

“Why were you so against participating in the first place? I’m sorry, but I’m having trouble understanding,” you say, gently running your fingers through his long hair, pulling it out of his usual ponytail.

“Can we talk about it later?” Giyu mumbles. He nuzzles his face into your chest. “I just wanna hold you right now.”

You cup Giyu’s cheeks, forcing him to look at you. You smile. “It’s ok. I’m here for you.” You kiss him gently. Giyu relaxes into the kiss, groaning at the softness of your lips. “I love you so much. Don’t forget, okay?”

Giyu exhales. “Okay.”

He kisses you again, this time with more urgency. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close as you lay back down into the futon. Giyu trails kisses down the side of your neck, leaving love bites in their wake. His wandering hands tug at your nightgown, exposing your breasts to the cool air. His hair tickles your cheek making you giggle.

“Come on,” you tease, unbuttoning the top of Giyu’s uniform. “Clothes off.” His cheeks were flushed red, and his arousal was evident from the growing bulge in his pants.

“Help me, will you?” Giyu asks, shyly hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He watches while you unbuckle his belt and losen his trousers so that they fall to the floor. He could almost sigh from the instant relief when you release his erection from the confines of his boxers.

You give his cock a few languid strokes, making Giyu shudder in response. He twitched in your hand as you rub your thumb over the sensitive tip, precum beginning to leak out.

“A-ah…f-feels good…” Giyu groans. He has to steady himself on his elbows, resting his forehead against yours. It takes all his strength not to cum right there on the spot. He hikes your leg up around his waist and aligns his cock at your dripping entrance. “Relax, okay? I got you.”

Giyu slowly thrusts in, your wetness causing little resistance. You both groan at the feeling of him stretching you out. Your hips buck upwards, searching for more.

“G-Giyu, m-more,” you plea.

Your husband grunted and picked up the pace. He couldn't get the enough of the way you felt around him. The way your gummy walls would convulse with each snap of his hips. Your high pitched and needy moans for him and him alone nearly drove him over the edge.

"T-there! A-again!" You beg. You wrap your arms around Giyu’s shoulders to hold him close. Capturing your lips again, Giyu sucked hard on them in order to bruise. His thumb jabbed against your clit.

The action caused You to cum. You squealed, biting down on his tongue, making him growl. Your clit pulsated, feeling like it was still vibrating. Tingles raced through veins, rocking your entire body.

"F-fuck, I'm close!" Giyu pants.

His own high was reaching. His thrusts became less rhythmic and more sloppy. Low grunts and moans left his lips. The feeling of You tightening around his dick even more was enough to send him over the edge.

He comes with a low groan. His body rocks and he collapses on top of you, burrying his head into the crook of your neck once more. You squirm feeling him release into your womb.

Giyu pulls out, almost reluctantly and pulls you into his chest. He holds you close as you lull off to sleep. Before you doze off you hear your husband mutter a soft “I love you.”

Himejima Gyomei: Stone Hashira

“Damn it!” You huff. “Why…huff…did his…huff…training…huff…have to be on top of a stupid mountain!”

You slowly waddle your way up the top of the mountain side, on your way to deliver lunch to your husband who had been preoccupied for weeks with the Hashira training. He barely had been home. If he was, it was usually long after you had gone to sleep just to check on you and your unborn child. Then, he was gone before dawn to resume the training.

You missed him dearly. You hated how empty and cold your futon felt without his warmth. You hated how antsy you felt with not only the fear of the upcoming battle with Muzan looming in the distance, but the anxiety knowing that your due date was approaching within the next month. Sitting around was driving you crazy, so you took it upon yourself to make your husband a home cooked meal and bring it to him, asking the crow to guide you. What you didn’t expect was him to be at the top of a literal fucking mountain.

“Ugh I can’t do this…” you groaned, pausing at a random tree to rest. “My feet are cramping and if this child kicks me in my bladder one more time…”

“Eh? Mrs. Himejima?”

“Eh? Ah! Genya!” While you’re thrilled to see the boy that you’ve quite honestly grown attached to like your own child, he on the other hand is freaking out. Why were you out here alone in your condition? Did Himejima know that you were here? What should he do? Help you get home?

“Genya, have you seen Gyomei?” You eagerly ask, grabbing the boy’s hands. “I was trying to surprise him with lunch, but I kinda got lost on my way up here. It’s such a ways away from the other hashira isn’t it.”

“U-um I-I,” Genya stammered. He then sighed. He couldn’t say no to you when your expression was so innocent. He also wouldn’t forgive himself he let you get hurt. “Ok. I’ll lead the way. P-please be careful. Let me know immediately if you need anything!”

“Of course!”

You follow Genya down a path, asking the boy how his training has been with the other hashira. Eventually, the sound of roaring water fills your ears and you both arrive to a massive water fall.

“Namu Amida Butsu,” someone chants and you realize that there are demon slayers standing under the water, bracing the impact.

“Oh my, this is Gyomei’s training?” You gasp.

“Only the first part,” Genya sighs. “Most people collapse and don’t get past the rest.”

“I see.” You’re not that surprised that your husband’s session was the seemingly most physically challenging and demanding. It would of course be no issue for him as his giant stature and inhuman strength made even the most impossible of tasks look like a breeze. But you feel for the younger ones who haven’t quite figured out how to unlock that same inner strength.

“Eh? Wait? Is that Zenitsu!?” You exclaimed, realizing you recognized a head of yellow hair floating down the river. “Ehh! Oh dear! Zenitsu!”

“Wait! Mrs. Himejima!”

You’re already waddling toward the riverbed, trying to reach out and grab the seemingly unconscious boy. You strain as you try your best to grab him, but he slips past you. The rocks are slick with water and before you realize it, you lose your balance. Before you tumble forward, someone grabs you by your waist and gently lifts you out of the river.

“My love, what ever are you doing here?” The low, calm rumble of your husband’s voice fills your ears. Your cheeks warm as your face lights up in excitement.

“Gyomei!” You turn in his arms to hug him around his neck. “I missed you! I bought you lunch! Come on, let’s eat it before it gets cold.”

Gyomei chuckles. “Let’s get you out of the wet clothes first so you do not catch a cold.” He looks over to Genya and gives a slight nod. “Thank you for looking after her. You can be done for the day, Genya.”

“R-right! Thank you, sensei.”

You talk your husband’s ear off about nonsense, him listening with a smile on his face as he carries your back home. By the time you make it back though, you’re sneezing, shivering slightly from the cold.

“My love, what ever were you doing up there?” Gyomei asks, setting you down. He gently unties your Obi, sliding the wet kimono off your shoulders. “You could’ve been hurt, dear.”

“I wanted to surprise you with lunch…” you say somewhat bash fully. “I haven’t seen you much and I’ve really missed you.”

Gyomei softly smiles. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel neglected.” He unties the juban undergarment and you’re left completely bare and exposed before him.

You feel slightly self conscious. Your body has changed so much from the pregnancy. Your breasts were constantly swollen and tender. Your stomach now round and full with stretch marks streaking across your thighs. Yet, Gyomei’s hands are gentle as he explores the new changes to your body. His fingers grace over the curve of your belly, smiling as he feels his baby…your baby…kick against his palm.

“It’s ok…” you let out a shaky breath. “I know it’s your job.”

“No, my first priority is you and will always be you,” Gyomei insists.

“M-mei, can you touch me?” You plea.

“But you’re so far along now. I do not wish to hurt you, my love.”

“You won’t!” Maybe it’s the pregnancy hormones. Or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve been missing the gentle intimacy with your husband due to his busy schedule. Either way, you’re finding yourself overcome with desire, wanting nothing but for Gyomei to take and fill you up. “Please?”

Gyomei sighs. He can’t say no to you. “If I hurt you at any point please let me know.”

Laying down, Gyomei pulls you by your waist over his face, his hot breath tickling your core. Your face flushes. “W-wait, Mei, I’ve gained so much weight cause of the pregnancy. I’m so much heavier now and-“

“I don’t care,” Gyomei says, his gentle hands caressing your skin. “You can sit.”

“B-but-“

“Sit.”

The command leaves your legs weak and you settle down over your husband’s face. He grips your waist as he begins to eat you out. You gasp, for some reason more overly sensitive than usual.

“M-Mei-“ you whimper. You rock your hips in tangent with his tongue. Gyomei’s touch tickles your skin. He traces the curve of your stomach, making you shiver. He cups your breasts. They feel larger, and more swollen than usual in preparation to breastfeed. Your nipples are more sensitive too, stiff from Gyomei playing with them.

Your thighs try to clench shut, which Gyomei puts an immediate stop to. He forces your legs open wider to have deeper access to your dripping cunt as he greedily laps up everything you drop. Your essence is so sweet and he can never get enough of you.

As much as he hates to admit it, he’s hated how much his responsibilities as hashira have taken his focus away from you. He’s missed your touch, your taste. He’s missed your scent and your presence. He has noticed all the subtle ways your body has changed and he hates that he hasn’t been around more often to witness it.

“A-ah, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper, gripping at Gyomei’s hair. You let out a soft cry as your orgasm hits. Your body shudders and you feel your clit tingle as Gyomei sucks on the sensitive nerves. He laps up your release, squeezing your hips to ground himself. “W-wait. T-too much.” Suddenly, a second orgasm rocks your body that leaves you gasping. Your legs have lost their feeling, and you couldn’t stand even if you wanted to.

Gyomei pulls you into his lap. He hugs you into his chest, his hands snaking under your stomach to lift it gently and provide you some sort of relief. You sigh contently now that some of the weight was lifted.

“Are you alright my love?” Gyomei asks, kissing the back of your neck.

“Mm..” Your cheeks flush as you can feel your husband’s straining erection by sitting on his lap. His hard cock presses against his pants, yet he makes no effort to deal with it. “M-mei, do you…um want some help with…”

Gyomei chuckles, his chest rumbling. “Please do not worry about me, love. Your comfort and pleasure is my first priority.”

Rengoku Kyojuro: Flame Hashira

Like Uzui, Rengoku came out of retirement to help with the Hashira training. His session would take place after one passed Tokito’s endurance training and focused on working on Total Concentration Breathing.

Seems easy, no?

Reality is most people pass out due to their inability to regulate their breathing correctly, thus having to start the process all over again. Your job is to go around a bring water to keep the slayers hydrated. But most are unable to drink due to the constricting feeling of the lungs after trying to recover from constantly using total concentration breathing. That along with the other physical strains it puts on the body. So you just do your best to encourage people to drink when they can.

“Come now! You must focus on the flow of your breathing and raise your awareness of your entire body!” Your husband’s loud voice carries across the training grounds. You can even hear him when inside. “Mastering this will even allow you to detect the most hidden injuries and slow the progression of poisons”

“Darling, don’t overwork them,” you say, coming outside with a new pitcher of drinks and cups. You offer him a cup, which he gratefully takes. “Let them catch their breath first.”

“Very well! 3 minutes then we shall start the next rep!”

You can feel all the gracious looks from the junior slayers as they can finally recuperate for a moment, even if brief. You know your husband isn’t intentionally trying to be harsh. He just gets so passionate about something and sometimes seems to forget that others do not possess the same strength or stamina as him.

“Hello? Rengoku-San?” A familiar voice calls out. It’s a face you and Kyojuro haven’t seen in a minute.

“Ah! Kamado! Long time no see!” Kyojuro exclaims. “I’m glad to see you’re in good condition!”

“It’s good to see you again! You too, Y/n-san!”

“I’m glad you’re doing well,” you say cheerfully. “Good luck with the training.”

Since Tanjiro had already had some experience with Total Concentration Breathing, his session was slightly modified. He’d have to tackle the XL gourd, bigger than the one he did at the Butterfly Mansion and then would spar with Kyojuro. If he stopped his Breathing he’d have to restart. But before any of that, for a warm up, all slayers had to run a 5K while maintaining their breathing.

By the time the sun set, just about everyone was passed out, beyond exhausted from the day. Kyojuro was still in overly good spirits, and full of energy as if the training didn’t even cause him to break a sweat.

“Kyo, I think it’s best to call it a day,” you deadpan.

“Really? But it’s not even dark yet?” Your husband has the most innocent look on his face.

You frown but then an idea strikes you. You lean in close to Kyojuro so that others around you can’t hear the next filthy words that leave your lips.

“If you still have so much energy left, why don’t you use that to put a baby in me like you’ve been wanting.”

You walk off without letting him respond, so you miss the way Kyojuro’s face explodes red. He rambles off some sort of excuse to the other slayers about training concluding for the day before rushing off to find you.

You wait patiently in your room, undressing so that you’re in nothing but your underwear by the time your husband arrives in a frenzy. Kyojuro’s face is flushed, chest chest heaving. The moment he spots you, he picks you up and pins you to the nearest wall, kissing you with urgency.

You groan as Kyojuro’s tongue forces its way into your mouth. His hands gripping the meat of your thighs tightly as he presses his growing erection against your exposed core.

“Feel so big, Kyo,” you whimper, rolling your hips against his.

“My flame, did you mean what you said earlier?” Kyojuro pants, his voice husky and airy as what little restraint he had started slipping away. He needed to fill you up and feel you around him bad, but he wouldn’t unless you were serious.

“Put a baby in me, Kyojuro,” you all but demand.

“If that is what my lovely life wishes,” Kyojuro chuckles. He lays you on the futon and sheds his clothes quickly. “Then I shall fulfill.” His cock is already stiff against his abdomen, twitching in his hand as pre cum oozes from the tip. You trace your fingers down his scared torso, noting the way Kyojuro’s muscles tense at your touch.

“I can’t wait to see what you look like when you tummy’s all swollen and full with my child,” Kyojuro said, aligning his cock at your entrance, his cheeks flushed. “You’ll make such a good mother.”

In a single thrust, Kyojuro sheathed his cock into your cunt to the hilt. The penetration left your eyes watering, crying out in pleasure. Kyojuro groaned. You felt so snug and warm around him that it took everything to keep from pounding into you right away.

“G-gods…you feel so good…”

“K-kyo, m-move,” you beg, trying to move your hips for some sort of friction.

Kyojuro grunts. He pins your legs to your chest, With a languid roll of his hips, he experimentally pulled his length out from the clamp of your hole. And with a sharp snap, he drove himself back into you. The sheer force of his scorching length shot the first wave of pleasure through the both of you. The two of you let out low moans. That first penetration gave way to a succession of increasingly rougher thrusts that had your body burning with pleasure.

Kyojuro’s body shuddered slightly anticipation. You clung to him and dug your nails in his shoulders trying to keep him close. The way his cock stretched you out had you feeling so full and lightheaded, leaving you babbling his name like a mantra.

Kyojuro groaned. He hovered over you, leaning down the kiss you passionately. His hands trailed up side to your nipples that became erect from pleasure. Lips trailing up the side of your neck, he left several bite marks.

"Ah a-ah t-that feels funny." You squirmed. "Kyo ~"

The sound of you moaning his name made Kyojuro’s cock throb. He fumbled slightly, his aggressive and frantic rutting becoming slower and slightly sloppy, instead.

“Ugh, coming,” Kyojuro groaned. He buried himself all the way to the hilt inside you. His orgasm hit and it hit hard. His dick pulsated with each subsequent spurt of cum. His hips still as he emptied inside you.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel your insides snap. Your pussy clenching tightly around Kyojuro, practically milking him as your own high shakes your body.

“S-shit,” Kyojuro gasps. He pulled out of your abused hole, watching the way his seed trickled out. The sight made his dick twitch. “This won’t do,” he chuckled while pulling your legs up around his waist. “At this rate, I won’t get you pregnant. Guess I’ll just have to fill you up again and again until it sticks.”

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flanaganfilm · 2 years

Note

Good day Mr Flanagan. please what does "the rest is confetti" mean to you and in the context it was used in hill house??

Okay, here we go. Buckle up for a long read.

To answer this, I've got to explain a little bit about what was happening and where I was when I sat down to write episode 10 of The Haunting of Hill House.

Hill House was not a fun shoot. The picture above is from very early in production, when I was still chubby and happy.

It was my first foray into television. I was absolutely terrified that I'd mess it up. So I'd opted to direct all of the episodes myself, figuring that - if nothing else - I'd have no one else to blame if it went south.

It was the most grueling professional experience of my career. The shoot was by no means a smooth one, every day was an uphill battle from a budgetary perspective, and between the three giant production entities involved with the production, I spent a lot of time fighting over the creative and logistical elements of the series.

I began losing weight. I was smoking two packs of cigarettes a day.

By the end of the shoot, I had dropped almost 40 lbs.

I was very depressed. Every day was a battle, and for the first time in my career, I wasn't excited to go to work in the morning. We were fighting for basic resources, fighting for the show we wanted, and even fighting amongst ourselves by the end. It was grueling.

We hadn't written all of the scripts when we started production. I believe we had finished through episode 7, but the rest of the scripts had to be finished while we were already shooting.

We'd mapped everything out in the writers room, and I had great support on the other episodes, but I was writing the finale solo. I'd thought I'd be able to juggle it with everything else. I quickly fell behind.

I finally got to the script about halfway through production. I'd work on it between takes at the monitor, and then get home to our tiny rental house in Atlanta, where Kate was waiting with our baby son. (One of the rare bright spots of this shoot came when Kate found out she was pregnant about halfway through production. We even named our daughter Theodora, in honor of her origins.)

I'd typically fall down from exhaustion when I got home, but I had to push through it and work on the script. My weekends were spent shotlisting and prepping for upcoming episodes. We didn't have enough time to stay ahead of prep, so every available day was used for that... I went three months without a single day off at one point.

I'd sit up late staring at the script. I was in a dark, dark place. Overwhelmed, exhausted, and feeling like I lived in an eternal present. Each day bled into the next and it didn't feel like there was an end in sight. That feeling of unreality was heightened because we kept returning to the same sets, same locations, and even the same scenes throughout the 100 shooting-day production. Stepping back into the exact room we had shot in days or weeks or even months ago made the whole thing feel absolutely surreal. Making movies is always an non-linear experience, but this one felt particularly so... it was like the days of our lives were happening to us all out of order.

I remember feeling something like despair creeping into my daily experience on the show. And I remember dwelling on that when I got into the scene work of episode 10.

As I worked through the draft, I recall that despair coloring a lot of what was on the page. My filter was breaking down. There's a monologue at the beginning of the episode where Steven's wife Leigh (played by my dear friend Samantha Sloyan) spews out a torrent of eviscerating insults about Steve's value as a writer. That is just me vomiting onto myself. She was voicing all of my deepest insecurities about myself at the time, and of what I was doing with this series.

She says "Is anything real before you write it, Steve? The things you write about, they're real. Those people are real, their feelings are real, their pain is real - but not to you, is it. Not until you chew it up, digest it, and shit it out onto a piece of paper and even then, it's a pale imitation at best."

This was the mindset I was in for a lot of the shoot. The writing became a reflection of a lot of that turmoil, and I knew who I was referring to in that monologue - I was talking about my family. I was talking about how much of their lives I'd used as building material for this show. I was talking about the fact that I'd lost two loved ones to suicide, and seen what it had done to my mother in particular. And I knew I was using - possibly even exploiting - those people for this series.

There's a lot of despair in this episode. The Red Room, as we conceived it, was a place that would feed upon those emotions. Grief, sadness, loss... those were the real ghosts of our series, and where our characters find themselves at the start of the finale. They're being slowly digested - eaten alive - by those feelings.

So finally, it came time to write Nell's final scene with her siblings. I knew from the outline we'd constructed in the writers room what this was supposed to accomplish - she was supposed to be their salvation. She was supposed to take all of these feelings that we'd been wrestling with and finally provide catharsis... finally say something that would free everyone.

I remember sitting with a blinking cursor for a long time. The Crain siblings had just turned and seen Nellie standing by the door, and suddenly were able to hear her speak. But what should she say? What would I say? What would I want someone to say to me?

What she ultimately says lays bare a lot of what I was thinking about when it comes to grief. It exists outside of linear time, much as I felt I existed at the time. That sense of eternal present, that sense of a nonlinear eternity of moments and memories - it all came out in her speech to her brothers and sisters.

I remember feeling, looking at my insane present and looking back at my past, how strangely overwhelmed I was by memories. That I wasn't experiencing time in a straight line, and hadn't been for a while - for the better part of a year, I'd felt more like I was standing in a whirlwind of moments. "Our moments fall around us like..." Nell said, and I recall sitting back and trying to find the words.

"Rain," for certain, but there was something too uniform about that. The moments of life as I experienced them weren't that orderly, they weren't that small. They didn't fall the same way. Some sailed by, fast and unremarkable, while others lingered in front of me, twisting and stretching. So it was a good word, but not the right word. I left it on the page though.

"Snow" was my next attempt. Better, in that I imagined the snow blowing in the wind, swirling and dancing and feeling more organic. More chaotic. More like life. But for some reason, the word that stuck with me, the word I felt Nell Crain would connect with was...

"Confetti."

And that was because I was thinking not of Victoria Pedretti at this point, but of Violet McGraw.

Violet played Young Nell, and I wondered what she might have said if she experienced time this way. As an adult, Nell was despairing. Nell was overwhelmed. But as a child... there was an innocence to the word. There was a joy to the word.

I imagined moments falling around her, this little girl with the big smile and the wide eyes. Her moments would be colorful. They would be of different shapes and sizes, some falling fast and some falling slow, flipping and turning and dancing in the air, independent of the others. Sparkling, whirling, doing lazy summersaults as they sauntered down to Earth.

I thought of myself, and of the members of my family. I thought of those we'd lost. I realized what I hoped for them, and for us all, in the end... was to look upon that mosaic of experience, that avalanche of days and minutes and moments... and to smile with some of the joy we had as children.

And this, I thought, was something that gave me hope. This gave me a glimpse of some kind of salvation for them. This was also how I hoped my life might seem if I was a ghost - a cascade of color and light and shape and movement, something I could dance in.

So Nell smiled and said... "or confetti."

It stuck with me. The rest of her monologue gets heavy again, and gets to the real point of the show - the point of the whole series, if I'm honest - and that's forgiveness.

I figured the only thing that would let the Crain children out of the Red Room was to be forgiven. I thought of the losses in my own family, and I thought of what I wished for my mother and for my aunts and uncles and cousins and I tried to pour that into her final words.

"I loved you completely, and you loved me the same," she said, "that's all." And this was the point I wanted the most to make. That at the end of our life, if we can say this about each other, the rest doesn't matter. The rest is that rainstorm, or that blizzard, that fell around this one central truth, and maybe built itself in piles around it, to the point we lost sight of it along the way.

And I thought again of that little girl, and almost as an afterthought, wrote "The rest is confetti."

I liked the way it sounded, but I was insecure about the line. I almost took it out, in fact. I remember asking Kate to read the scene and talking about that last line with her. "Is it too cute?" I wondered. She was on the fence. "Depends on how it's acted," she said, and I figured she was right. We could always take it out if it didn't work. The scene could end with "I loved you completely, and you loved me the same. That's all."

Why not shoot it and see what happened.

I turned in the script, we published it quickly so that we could start breaking it down and prepping it. And the next morning I was back on set. I'd deal with episode 10 when it came down the pipe again, sometime in the coming months. We had a lot of shooting to get through before I had to worry about it.

I recall Netflix asking me to cut a lot of that monologue, and I remember them also having questions about the "confetti" line. I pointed out that it didn't cost us any extra to shoot it all, it was only words, and fought to keep the script intact.

Ultimately, they insisted I make a series of cuts on the page. I begrudgingly agreed, but left Nell's speech alone. I made superficial cuts around it, throughout the draft, and even considered changing the font size to fool them into thinking it had gotten shorter (I ultimately was told I wouldn't fool anyone and not to risk starting a war). But Nellie's final goodbye stayed intact.

It must be said - Victoria Pedretti SLAUGHTERED this scene.

By the time we got around to filming it, things had never been worse for the production. There was almost nothing left for a lot of us. Tensions were sky-high, resources had been exhausted completely, and we were all ready to give up.

Filming in the mold-ridden Red Room was depressing, morose, and led to a lot of arguments and unpleasantness. The room itself just felt gross, always, and we were in there for days at a time. The last thing we had to shoot in there was Nellie's goodbye.

Victoria came to set having to push through pages of monologue, and she did so with captivating bravado. I recall being teary-eyed at the monitor watching her work. And when we finally made it to the last line, I watched her deliver it with... a smile. A sincere, innocent, longing, joyful smile. A smile informed by the sadness, grief, and loss of her own situation, of her own life... but a smile that finds forgiveness and grace after all. Pedretti knew how to say the line, and how that word would work.

And as she said it, I knew it would stay in the show.

Over the years, that sentence has become something of a tagline for The Haunting of Hill House. I'm always a bit mystified and touched when I see people approach me with the line on T-shirts, or even tattooed on their bodies.

I started signing it with autographs back in 2020 after enough fans asked me to. Now it's my go-to when I sign anything related to Hill House.

The line, for me, represents a lot of things.

It's about the insane, chaotic, non-linear experience of making that show. It's about trying to find and hold onto joy, even in the grips of despair.

It's about the way the moments of our lives aren't linear, not really, and how we may be unable to understand them as we exist in their flurry. It's about finding hope, innocence and forgiveness in the final reckoning.

And it's about how, outside of our love for each other, the rest is just... well, it's fleeting. It's colorful. It's overwhelming. It's blinding. It's dancing. And, if we look at it right, it's beautiful. But it's also light. It's tinsel. It flits and dances and falls and fades, it's as light as air.

The rest is the stuff that falls around us, and flits away into nothing.

It's the love that stays.

#haunting of hill house #the rest is confetti #that was a very long story #man I was not okay while we were shooting that #forgiveness #heal

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misserabella · 5 months

Text

two geniuses (don’t get along)

enemies to lovers;; spencer reid x fem reader!

masterlist!

note; in this fic lila’s episode happens after elle’s departure to make the story have more sense. (S1 E18). also there have been some changes :))

synopsis; spencer reid; doctor spencer reid. some of them (mostly of them), would say he’s a genius. but if he was, then so you were. maybe that’s why you hate each other. maybe that’s why you can’t stand him.

cw;; +18 content! minors dni!, reader and spencer’s competitive asses, talk of murder, graphic scenes, weapons, guns, blood, shots being fired, lila flirting, spencer kissing lila, lots of fighting, lots of tension, teasing, apologies, reader getting hurt (mentions of stitches), threats, murder of secondary characters, talk about kinks and trauma (spencer being a smartaas), mention of spencer’s childhood and her mom… ( i bet there’s so much more but i can’t remember rn) angst, fluff and smut in upcoming chapters!!!

“another coffee, pretty boy? you wanna die?” morgan inquired the puppy eyed profiler, whose right hand held a cup of freshly brewed coffee.

“actually, the caffeine in coffee has been found in animal and cell studies to protect cells in the brain that produce dopamine. in a large prospective cohort of more than 500,000 people followed for 10 years, an association was found between drinking higher amounts of coffee and lower rates of death from all causes.” he easily spat in less than a mere minute, making morgan scoff.

“it’s not considered coffee if a 99% of it is sugar, reid.” you barged into their conversation, taking a look at the files of new cases.

“sugar is one type of carbohydrate, as are fiber and starch. carbohydrates are essential macronutrients.” he defended himself, taking a sip of his coffee-sugar.

“wrong. although carbohydrates are essential macronutrients since the body uses them in large amounts, something wrong about your thesis is that sugar is not one of those macronutrients. the body doesn’t use it. in fact, the effects of added sugar intake which are higher blood pressure, inflammation, weight gain, diabetes, and fatty liver disease, are all linked to an increased risk for heart attack and stroke. so yeah. technically, morgan was right. you might die.” you nodded towards the man, who smiled at you, walking towards you and taking your face in between his hands.

“have i told you how much i love that brain of yours?” he inquired, leaving a kiss to your forehead. “brilliant.” he smiled, raising his hands in victory since for once he had won spencer and his extensive knowledge. the profiler simply rolled his eyes.

“thanks.” spencer spat at you, to what you smiled.

“you’re very welcome, agent.”

“it’s doctor.”

“yeah, yeah. whatever.”

spencer reid. with an IQ of 187, an eidetic memory, and the ability to read 20,000 words per minute, he was considered a real walking genius. maybe that’s why the two of you seemed to despise each other so much. people say geniuses actually like each other. well, you and spencer were the exception. it was easy to get on his nerves. he was not used to having someone smart enough to actually suppose a threat to his intelligence. yet there you were. you had been jumping your way up to college since you were twelve, and at the ripe age of 22, and numerous phds later, you had found yourself working at the BAU.

you had been hired after elle had left the team, and everyone had seemed happy greeting you. you had specially made quick friends of penelope and morgan. something reid didn’t seem to like. well… he didn’t exceptionally like you. something that seemed stupid ‘cause you two were the perfect pair. there was nothing the two of you didn’t know, nothing you wouldn’t catch or realize. maybe that’s why spencer despised you. ‘cause now they had you too, not only him.

it was actually a pity. you liked smart people. you liked to share opinions and learn new things you might not know with the help of others. but spencer was borderline narcissistic, and that made your body cringe in disgust. and worst of all, he was really attractive. curly caramel hair, hazel puppy eyes, full lips, small straight nose, tall stature, pretty hands… also his voice…

well, anyways. you were losing focus.

so you’d decided to match his energy. and that only seemed to make the situation worse. sure, you two worked together, but only because you had to, if you could you’d much prefer to do everything alone rather than have to share office with reid.

hotch caught your attention as he pushed a file on your table.

“and what’s this…?” you sung as you took it, inspecting it.

“training program in los angeles.” you looked at him. he was leaning against your table. “want you to go with gideon and reid.” you let out a single chuckle, tossing the paper on your table.

“no.” you simply said, watching the man sigh. “tell jj to go! or prentiss!” you offered.

“can’t. jj is helping penelope to trace an unsub and prentiss is new, need someone who has been on the ropes longer.”

“then what about morgan? he’s not doing anything.” you pointed at the man who played with a mini football.

hotch looked at you. “please? you are the only one who gets reid. you know how he can be…”

“a narcissistic, egocentric, babbling, childlike, fourteen looking mess? yeah, i know.” you smiled. “but what do i win in this situation? i mean i must gain something if i’m gonna spend more time than necessary with him.”

“a free weekend.”

“done.” you gave him your hand. “a pleasure doing business with you, sir.”

“spencer! spencer reid!” you hear someone call for your work-mate, a tall smiling man approaching him and shaking his hand just as the three of you entered an art exhibition. “look at you. you look just the same.” he chuckled as he gives him a quick hug. “nothing changed… spencer was the only 12-year-old in our graduating class. just the same.”

“thanks.” spencer awkwardly says, giving the man a tight smile. “these are special agents jason gideon and (y/n) (l/n). this is parker dunley. we went to high school together as you can probably gather.” he introduces all of you.

“hey. it’s a beautiful gallery.” jason gives him his hand in a shake.

“oh, thank you, thank you. parker smiles, later on turning towards you.

“contemporary art… right?” you inquire offering him your hand, to what he nods. “contemporary modern art includes a wide range of mediums and genres. it is often characterized by its use of new media, such as video and installation art, as well as its rejection of traditional art forms. contemporary modern artists often experiment with form and content, and their work can be highly conceptual.” you say, making the man chuckle.

“i see you brought your computers.” parker jokes with gideon about spencer and you. “another genius like spencer?”

“oh no, men are just smart. woman are the geniuses.” you smile, making him chuckle.

“and funny, huh? i see, i see.”

spencer coughs to grab the man’s attention. “jason’s a big contemporary art enthusiast.”

“well, we’re exhibiting four up-and-coming artists in this show. everything is for sale. and i could definitely swing a nice discount for a friend of…” he loses focus as a blonde beautiful woman enters the exhibition. “lila! hey. guys, come on.” he invites you three towards his friend, coming up to her to say hello.

“do i look 12-years-old to you?” spencer inquired gideon, to what you scoffed, thanking the waiter that offered and served you a glass of champagne.

“oh, totally.” you said as you took it, taking a sip as you heard spencer crack a fake laugh.

“real funny.”

you three made your way towards parker and… lila. she was a beautiful blue eyes-blonde young girl. the basic american beauty standard.

“spencer. you ever met a real movie star?” the man asks, to what the girl beside the blonde scoffs.

“movie star? please. she has a supporting role on a television series about beach volleyball. totally blue-collar.” your eyebrows slightly rise.

“what a friend…” you whisper to your glass, taking another sip of the champagne.

“i’m lila.” the girl gives a sweet smile to spencer, and you almost roll your eyes.

it’s only a matter of time.

“hi, im doctor spencer reid… i’m spencer. you don’t have to call me doctor.” he corrects himself.

lila chuckles. in 3… 2… 1… and tucks her hair behind her ear. there we go.

“cool.” you say, turning around without even introducing yourself, it’s not as if she’d pay attention to you. she’s too focused on spencer to care as you make your way through the gallery, taking the artwork in, trying to scape the probable flirting that was about to go down.

later on you found the two of them chatting in front of a picture in which the blue and green dominate.

“does it make you feel anything?” the blonde asked him, and you silently expect an answer from spencer.

“like what?” he asks. god he sucks.

“i can’t tell you how to feel.” lila chuckles at his frown.

“right now i feel pretty good.” he smiled and you roll your eyes.

“lila? can i talk to you for a moment?” parker interrupts their chatting and the girl nods, quickly glancing at spencer.

“excuse me.”

“sure!” he gently says, and you make your way towards him.

“feeling pretty good, huh?” you inquire him, teasingly, and he groans. “you totally suck.” you take a sip of your glass and he looks at you. “poor girl seems desperate.”

“desperate for what?” he inquires, frowning.

“oh come on, reid. and you call yourself a profiler? it’s obvious she likes you. she was trying to flirt with you.” you obviously state. “she was trying so hard and you were not catching on…” you laugh, and he sighs.

“you know ogling on other’s business is rude, right?” he questions you.

“we’re the fbi. we’re on everybody’s business. that’s our job, reid.” you ignore him, taking a look at the photograph lila and him were staring at. “calming, isn’t it?” you say and he looks at the photograph as well, taking it in.

“sometimes, the color blue is associated with loneliness and sadness. it usually happens when you combine it with specific elements, like rain.” he spits and you chuckle.

“i know that, genius. the thing is not how it’s supposed to make you feel, it’s how it really makes you feel.” he looks at you as you sip from your cup. “with lila, you might feel good, ‘cause you enjoy her company, with me on the other side, you might not even want to be here, staring at a photograph that you’ve probably seen before. that’s because you focus on everything too much. you need to see what the picture actually tells you, not focus on the person you’re staring at it with.”

spencer’s hazel eyes go back to the picture, trying to focus on it, not on your presence, or the amount of voices that surrounded him.

the exhibited photograph shows an empty gas station, lights of green engulfing it as the nightlight blue sky surrounds it. it takes spencer back to his childhood. to those days in which even if he loved his mother, he couldn’t spend another minute by her side and left his house late in the afternoon for a walk. it helped him get out of his head. he remembers watching the sun go down as the night took over the sky, studying and calling out the constellations above his head, trying to find a solution to his mother’s illness. the stars never worked, and he was always left…

“it makes me feel alone.”

“you know, we really can get ourselves to the airport.” gideon said, reid and you trailing behind him as the police officer guided you to his car.

“i didn’t invite the fbi here to let them make their own way around town.” he says, never minding gideon.

“we really appreciate it.” reid says and you whistle.

“so you have manners, huh?” to what he groans.

“oh, shut up.”

“hey, i can’t thank you guys enough for conducting the seminar.” kim smiles.

“well, don’t hesitate to call if there’s anything we can help with.” gideon offered, putting his bags on the trunk of the car.

you stretched your arms after having pushed in your own. “can’t wait for that free weekend.” you muster happily, to what spencer frowns.

“free weekend? what are you talking about?”

“a special thanks from hotch for coming all the way here and putting up with you.” his mouth falls open at your words.

“i didn’t get any free time and i had to put up with you!”

“that let’s you know who’s the problem in this equation.” you falsely smiled at him, patting her shoulder, and you relished on the way his jaw tightened.

your conversation ends as the three of you watch officer kim end a phone call with a not very enthusiastic ‘great’.

“everything alright?” jason asks.

“double murder at hollywood bungalow.” he informs. “a celebrity. a young movie star, natalie ryan, and her fiancé shot to death.”

“very romantic.” you mutter.

“it’s gonna be a major pain in the ass. hey, you guys care to take a quick look before i drive you to the airport? it’s on the way.” he asks, and gideon accepts the offer.

“absolutely.”

you sigh as you get on the back of the car along with spencer.

“seems like that weekend is gonna have to wait.” he happily and teasingly smiles and you send daggers in his direction.

“i’ll choke you with my bare hands.”

“did you get that kink by exposure or trauma?” your mouth falls and your eyes widen.

“what?” you almost yell, watching him ponder.

“maybe it’s because you like to have power and control. have you talked about this with a therapist?”

“you’re gonna have to see a therapist after the torture i’m gonna put you through if you don’t stop that fucking nonsense.” you warn him, and he raises his hands.

“i’m just saying, there’s nothing bad about seeking mental help-”

“spencer!”

“no sign of forced entry.” reid points out as the four of you enter the murder scene.

“same weapon.” gideon informs watching at the two bodies.

you stare at the female, getting closer. “the girl was shot execution style, once in the head. the male three times in the torso.”

“so you have two different MOs.” jason wonders before going back to officer kim, talking about the case. you crouch down to take a better look at the man’s corpse.

“what? you found anything?” spencer inquired from behind you, to what you shook your head.

“nah. just fantasizing.” he frowns.

“fantasizing. what the- what would you possibly be fantasizing about in a murder scene?”

“oh you know… you… in that position… you know? it’s really sexy, you should try it. here don’t move let me get my gun.” you offer while getting up, and he just rolls his eyes, leaving you behind.

“what do you think?” gideon asks the officer about the case, wanting his insight.

“i’ve had a couple other cases recently, past few months. same type of weapon, 22 caliber handgun, both shot in the head.” you look at the bodies. “the first was an established film producer, wally melman, and the second was chloe harris, another young actress. though not as well-known as natalie here.”

“any forensic evidence?” reid asks as you step away from them, taking in your surroundings.

“no, and the guys have been going through this place all morning and haven’t come up with anything.”

“so he clearly knows how to cover his tracks.”

“or hers.” you mutter to yourself.

“twenty-two’s are small but efficient. they bounce around inside a person like a pinball.” jason said.

“preferred weapon of the mafia.” spencer added. “you know, there’s no obvious sexual component to these crimes, which is usually the case with serial murders.”

“so you’re thinking this is a serial killer?” kim asks.

“well, it’s certainly a series of murders. we don’t know enough yet to call them serial.” you step into the conversation.

“would you consider hanging out in LA a little while? let me lean on your expertise until we do figure out what we’ve got?” the officer inquires and gideon nods.

“yeah, just cancel the flights. we’ll have the rest of pit team out here ASAP.”

the unsub seemed to follow his victims, since he knew their schedules. there was not a single witness, he knows how to blend in and hide in plain sight. he’s meticulous.

and everybody is watching.

just like everybody was watching spencer and lila.

after finding out that the unsub was actually stalking the blonde, and killing people to help her with her career, she had somehow scurried her way under spencer’s protection. it actually bothered you. ‘cause spencer seemed so distracted. and it was totally unprofessional to get involved with a target being their agent.

you were on her studio, studying everyone surrounding her. but it was one person that caught your attention.

“who’s that?” you question prentiss.

“that’s maggie, maggie lowe. for what i know she just works here.” she answers you. “why?”

“they seem pretty close, don’t you think?” you ponder, watching her physical language. “she also seems nervous, she avoids lila’s eyes.”

“maybe she’s just shy.” she shrugs, but knows what you’re pointing out.

“maybe…” then, jj appears.

“what are you guys talking about?”

“lila and possible unsubs.” emily fills her in, accepting the coffee she offers her, you take the one she handles you too with a thanks.

“talking about lila… look who’s approaching her.” she devilishly smiles. you almost groan at the sight of spencer talking to the blonde. “they seem to have hit it off.”

“ugh don’t start. he’s so focused on her when in reality he should be focused on his job…” you sip at your coffee, not realizing the shared look the other two girls send each other. “so unprofessional.” you shake your head.

“are you really mad because he’s distracted from his job or by the fact that a pretty girl is distracting him?” jj asked you, taking in your frown and confused expression.

“what?”

“oh come on, really? do you really not feel it?” emily pushes in too, and you look at them.

“feel what? i-i don’t understand.”

“there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.” the brunette explains, being backed up by the blonde.

“it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other.” you scoff.

“you’re saying that spencer and i are attracted to each other?” you inquired them both and they looked at the other. “come on guys, have you seen him? have you actually worked with him? he’s a fucking narcissist, he makes my life impossible just because i’m as smart as him. i don’t like him. at all. i can’t even stand him!” you rant. “he does this thing when he’s focused, playing with his hands and pencils, it’s so distracting. and when i state a fact, he just has to find something to actually make it wrong. every single time. and let’s not talk about how fucking childish he is, if you guys had been here for the training program, i swear to god he said this stupid things about kinks and me having trauma, oh my god i wanted to fucking kill him. he diminishes me, and thinks he’s better than me. and it just makes me sick…” you take a deep breath when you notice how much you had actually talked and your friends’ looks. “what i mean to say is, no. i don’t like spencer reid. and if he wants to fuck his job up, i’d be more than happy.”

morgan suddenly appeared, hotch right behind him.

“guys. there’s something you have to know…” the first talked.

“michael ryer’s dead.” the second finished.

“oh shit.” emily cursed.

“does lila know?” jj asked.

they shook their head.

“she’s gonna be devastated.” jj said to what you sipped at your coffee.

“well at least she has spencer, right?”

“oh, yeah. can we talk about that real quick?!” morgan inquired, astonished.

“no, morgan!” the girls stop him and he raised his hands.

“okay… but the kid has game.”

“woah. i like your house.” spencer said as you two entered lila’s house.

how had you managed to end up with the two of them alone, you didn’t know, and you didn’t like.

“i rent it.” the girl smiled.

“nice.” he nodded.

“lila, you should probably change all your phone numbers.” you said, messaging your team, they’d found something concerning nude photos of the young artist.

“i’m unlisted.”

“anytime you call an 800 or an 888 number your phone number’s put into a data bank that’s then sold to telemarketers. if someone gets your phone number they can go online and research all your records.” you actually responded.

“woah, are you a genius like spencer too?” spencer.

“no. i’m actually smarter.” you gave her a small smile, making her chuckle.

“uh… you should probably carry a piece of paper and pen with you wherever you go in case you see any suspicious license plates that often reappear.” spencer tries to change the conversation as you two followed the blonde towards her kitchen. “and a security dog too.”

“allergic.” she simply answered. “do you guys want some tea?”

you shrugged. “yeah, sure. thanks.” spencer nodded as well. it was already getting late, the sun leaving the city’s sky.

“i’m gonna go change while the water boils, make yourselves comfortable.” she said while making her way upstairs.

you went back towards the salon, your eyes wandering towards a collage on lila’s wall. spencer got your left side, his white stripped button up shirt’s sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“feel anything yet?” you asked him.

“there is something definitely appealing about this one.” he said and you nodded.

“like lila?”

he looked at you, his mouth falling open to say something, but just as the words were to fall from his lips, the blonde returned in a a more comfortable outfit, making her way towards the patio of her house, beside the pool.

“what are you doing?” spencer inquired her.

“i just need some air. the tea is on the kitchen.” she responded.

“what? no, lila…” your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you watched him go after her.

you could hear them talk and spencer beg her to come inside since there was a psychotic killer aiming at her. you made your way back to the kitchen just as fast as you saw the blonde lean into him, one of her hands tugging at his tie to pull him down. great.

your hands took the cup of steaming tea that lila had prepared you, your eyes on spencer’s as you took a sip. but the warm liquid was poured all over the floor of the kitchen, your head spinning at the blunt trauma that stroke you. your hands went to the side of your forehead as you fell, taking in the sight of your blood. you groaned as someone took you from your hair, pulling you and dragging you across the floor, your hands getting cuts from the smashed cup of tea.

“come here.” the unsub said, taking away your gun, and… you knew that voice. your eyes met the blonde’s.

“maggie lowe?” you muttered to yourself. so you were right. she was the killer and stalker.

you got dragged all the way to the salon, where you could see lila and spencer kissing from the distance. but the kiss quickly broke when maggie fired a shot up into the ceiling, capturing their attentions. spencer quickly pulled out his weapon, pointing at maggie, whose gun’s barbell was right against your head.

“maggie?” lila inquired as they slowly made their way towards you two.

“why’d you have to bring these people here?” she asked lila. “put down the gun.” she ordered spencer, clocking the weapon that kissed your skin. he quickly lowered it, calling out for the killer. “don’t call me maggie! you don’t know me!” “come on lila, let’s go. we gotta go baby, let’s go.” she ordered the actress in a soft yet hurt voice.

“maggie don’t hurt her, you don’t need to hurt her.” you didn’t know if he was talking about lila or you. or maybe both.

“you don’t know anything. i would never do anything to hurt lila. i created her.”

“no, you didn’t.” lila said.

“yes, i did!” you closed your eyes when the barbell dug harsher against your temple. “i did everything for you! and you betray me by bringing these people here… to our house!!!”

“so ungrateful…” you say, loud enough for maggie to hear you. “look at you… you gave her everything and you saw what she did to you… she kissed him. she told him she loved him.” you lied, looking at spencer. he caught on.

“what?” maggie incredulously said.

“i heard them. i saw them kissing each other like animals!” you yelled. “he abandoned me… and now i’m here. about to be killed because of him!” you spat, meeting maggie’s eyes. “you don’t have to hurt me. they don’t deserve us. i’m on your side maggie… i know how you feel. i know how it feels to be betrayed like this…” you nodded, seeing her eyes change. “give me my gun… i’ll kill him for you. and then you can have lila back. i’ll let the two of you go.” you promised, slowly rising up to your feet, extending your hand.

and just as she pointed her gun down, you tackled her, taking the weapons from her and throwing them aside as she fought against your hold.

“reid!” you called out for your work mate, who quickly came to you and handcuffed maggie, who just started crying and begging for you to kill her.

“i gave her everything…”

you looked at spencer, wiping off the blood from your eyes.

“and that’s why we need to stay professional.”

“are you okay, pretty girl?” morgan came to you as the paramedics wiped clean your wound.

“yeah, they say i have a light concussion. a couple of stitches and i’ll be alright.” you gave him a small smile.

“what happened in there, huh? we only got what the paparazzi had on camera, which is…” you nodded.

“yeah. well, maggie got into the house with lila’s spare keys, and basically almost killed me. it was good luck that spencer kissed lila, or else i don’t know what i would’ve done.” the rest of the team had gathered around you.

“you did good. spencer told me how you got into her head.” gideon said.

“thanks.” you responded.

“make sure you’re on the clear before getting up. we’ll be right back, gotta fill in the other officers.” hotch informed you, to what you nodded.

they all left except spencer, who silently looked at you.

“i’m sorry.” spencer said, looking at his feet. “this shouldn’t have happened, if i hadn’t…”

“… played barbie?” you finished off for him, catching his attention. “look spencer. i don’t really care about it. it’s your life and you make your own decisions, just… make sure to not put any of us in danger while doing it. even lila. one of us three could have died tonight.” he nodded. you reached on your back pockets, pulling out the films of the paparazzi’s camera. “i guess this is yours.” he called out for you once again, probably to apologize one more time, but you were still pretty shaken up and you were still pretty mad at him. “would you mind? my head is killing me.” you asked of him and he nodded, silently turning around and walking its way towards morgan and emily. your mind went back to her words the moment the needle punctured your skin. oh ‘come on, really? do you really not feel it?’ ‘there’s this weird tension in between the two of you.’. and then back to jj’s. ‘it’s like when two little kids like each other and they don’t know how to show it so they just mess with each other’. you couldn’t help but chuckle.

you liking spencer? no way.

if there was anything you felt for spencer reid that was hate.

a/n; im so excited for this series!!!! so much angst and fluff and smut yet to come!🤭

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felassan · 3 months

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Game Informer:

"Dragon Age Cover Story And Shadow of the Erdtree Review | GI Show by Alex Van Aken on Jun 27, 2024 at 01:57 PM In this week's episode of The Game Informer Show, the crew discusses our recent trip to Bioware for our Dragon Age: The Veilguard cover story, our Elden Ring: Shadow of the Erdtree review, PS5-bound multiplayer shooter, Concord, a new battle royale from former League of Legends developers, atmospheric horror title Still Wakes the Deep, Dustborn, Luigi's Mansion 2 HD and even more! It's a packed show, y'all. Watch the Video Version: [embedded link to Game Informer video titled 'Dragon Age Cover Story And Shadow of the Erdtree Review | GI Show']"

(On YouTube, the description box for this video looked like this:)

[Article continues] "Follow us on social media: Alex Van Aken (@itsVanAken), Kyle Hilliard (@KyleMHilliard), Marcus Stewart (@MarcusStewart7), Wesley LeBlanc (@LeBlancWes) The Game Informer Show is a weekly gaming podcast covering the latest video game news, industry topics, exclusive reveals, and reviews. Join us every Thursday to chat about your favorite games – past and present – with Game Informer staff, developers, and special guests from around the industry. Listen on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or your favorite podcast app. Matt Storm, the freelance audio editor for The Game Informer Show, edited this episode. Matt is an experienced podcast host and producer who's been speaking into a microphone for over a decade. You should listen to Matt's shows like the "Fun" And Games Podcast and Reignite, a BioWare-focused podcast."

"The Game Informer Show – Podcast Timestamps: 00:00:00 - Intro 00:02:42 - Cover Story: Dragon Age: The Veilguard 00:21:48 - Elden Ring Shadow of the Erdtree Review 00:42:20 - Concord Preview 00:59:04 - Supervive Preview 01:11:59 - The Plucky Squire 01:24:37 - Magic: The Gathering – Assassin's Creed 01:35:01 - Still Wakes the Deep 01:45:52 - Dustborn Preview 01:55:06 - Luigi's Mansion 2 HD Review 01:58:26 - Housekeeping"

"The GI Show podcast is a weekly recap of exciting releases, exclusive details on upcoming games, and in-depth interviews with developers. Watch or listen to a new episode every Thursday!"

[source]

----

Felassan's notes section of this post -

In this episode of the Game Informer show, Game Informer talk some more about their trip to BioWare's studio for the DA:TV cover story, when BioWare showed them hours of DA:TV content while playing it live.

Some notes from this and from what they said:

Wesley LeBlanc wasn't a huge DA fan and he went in with no expectations. The job to go to BW for this just landed on his plate due to other peoples' schedules. After seeing the game, it's probably his most anticipated game for the rest of the year and the one he's most looking forwards to

The game really wowed him and stuck with him, he said he is thrilled about it and is engrossed in the fantasy it's bringing

The visuals and world finally feel like what BioWare has maybe always wanted to make

This is the game where the team said, yeah, we feel fully in command of the Frostbite engine, and it shows

The world is more like Fable-type whimsy than prior DA games. It has a high fantasy feel

BW want new people to play the game. They're very aware that it's been 10 years since the last game and the game does a good job of catching people up

Rook as the PC really has no idea what's going on with Solas and all the other lore-specific stuff that's happening in the game, so they kind of act as the stand-in for newer players or people who have not caught up on the lore

But it's not just a game for newcomers, there is still a lot to chew on in the game for hardcore DA fans. BioWare were saying that they know their community, what it wants and what it's looking for out of these characters

Wesley enjoyed the music, visual design, and voice acting

Nothing that they saw about the game stood out as worrisome to him

Wesley has quite a lot of further stories to add to Game Informer's DA:TV hub

Wesley: "On the topic of the [Dragon Age] fanbase, I just wanna give a shoutout to that community, because, wow, I did not, I knew people would be stoked about this cover, but people are really stoked about this cover. And it’s really funny, the day that we announced it, I got like hundreds of new followers. Anytime, if I tweet about Erdtree or Destiny 2, I get like my normal amount of likes, like, a dozen maybe, y’know, whatever. If I tweet about Dragon Age, it’s like. Today I tweeted, ‘my next feature is coming at 3pm’ and it’s at 1000 likes, it’s so funny, like, this community is like rabid for information, which makes sense if you haven’t gotten a game in 10 years. But yeah, so like, shoutout to y’all, I’m loving you guys reading the articles and telling me what you wanna hear about. So if you have any questions or anything, get at me on Twitter for sure, and I will see what I can cook up with some writing for you. But yeah, shoutout to the BioWare community, y’all crazy.”

[source]

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #solas #long post #longpost

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lizardkingeliot · 4 months

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Fair warning this is going to be a mess and my brain is running on fumes so... bear with me lol.

I'm thinking about Louis not uttering Lestat's name for 23 years until he starts unloading on a stranger trying to convince himself Lestat was nothing to him. He wasn't in LOVE what are you TALKING about. He wasn't a great musician who wrote me love songs so infuriatingly perfect I swam the Mississippi to bite him like a cat and fuck him on the floor! Lestat wasn't that great at all I promise look at me, Daniel, do I look like the sort of guy who would lie about something like that!!!

I'm thinking about how what Louis was doing here wasn't actually that at all. Armand read him for filth because he's always known who the real love of Louis' life is, hasn't he? And Louis couldn't bear it anymore. He couldn't find Lestat (which begs the question WHY they were separated after Paris if Louis knows he isn't dead at this point but I guess the show will tell us that in the upcoming episodes lol), and this was going to be his way out. Had he been searching for him in secret? Did Armand know? I'm thinking prooooobably not but I guess we'll have to see what happens in Paris and in the final three episodes to be sure why Louis was so INSISTENT he didn't want to see Lestat even while very obviously trying to do just that. I assume it has to do with the events surrounding The Trial???? A desperate attempt to protect Lestat (wherever he may be) from Armand? Who knows!

I'm thinking about Louis insisting all he did was talk trash about Lestat and Armand immediately answering... that's not exactly how you talked about him to me. Yet Armand says Lestat's name hasn't been uttered in 23 years. Which would have been around 1950 in the timeline. Right after Paris. So clearly we're meant to understand Louis confided something about the true nature of his relationship with Lestat to Armand. Yet Louis insisted right there in that coffin that Lestat was his maker and nothing more. Again, I guess we'll just have to wait for the end of the season to see how we're meant to piece that whole thing together lol.

I'm thinking about the way the show let us hear Lestat's voice as he spoke to Louis through Armand. They let US hear Lestat insisting Armand tell Louis "I love you". Yet that's not something Louis could possibly remember because he didn't hear it. Which seems confusing but it's actually confirming this theory I've had brewing in my head that the show intentionally shows us things Louis isn't actually saying in the interview. Like making out with Dreamstat in the park. If you rewatch 2x03 there's no way Louis actually told Daniel and Armand about that. Or in this case, it's the show showing us something Louis can't possibly know himself.

And I'm thinking... why? The only real reason to do that is to drive home that what we're watching is in fact the Louis and Lestat love story at its core. I mean... think about it. Every iteration we've seen of Lestat this season has been so ROMANTIC. They were so in LOVE. All the stuff Louis tried his best to omit in season one is leaking in around the cracks like sunlight through the slats of a window shade and it's only a matter of time before that shade is opened...

Also. One more thing. Not to dump allll of this in one post but....... we finally got confirmation in this episode that Armand IS messing with Louis' head and erasing things and overwriting memories and I am foaming at the mouth waiting to see what else is in there Louis doesn't know about...

#i told you all this was going to be an entire mess lmao #i'm mostly just thinking out loud here...#i probably have lots more to say but that will have to happen later it's so early and i'm so tired lmao #interview with the vampire #interview with the vampire spoilers #loustat #otp: all my love belongs to you #iwtvedit #iwtv meta #i guess lol

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queen-of-deans-booty · 11 months

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Fun and Games

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request something with Jensen Ackles, where the reader is Jeffrey daughter and Jensen wife and the fans asks Jeffrey who he find out about her daughter dating Jensen? Something fluff with funny between them

Summary: Your husband brings you along to one of his panels with your dad, and you make the mistake of telling the fans a prank you pulled on your dad. He has some stories of you, too, and everything comes to light right then and there.

Square Filled: locked in a playground (2020) for @spnfluffbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

“Why’d you have to drag me out to this thing? I could have been sitting at home in the bath reading my book,” you say to your husband.

Jensen wraps his arms around your waist and slides his hands to your ass, squeezing your cheeks before sliding his hands into your back pockets.

“What do you mean? You love coming with me to these things.” These things being conventions with thousands of screaming fans for all kinds of fandoms. You love going with him but you kind of wish you could be at home right now. “I’ll tell you what. If you endure the next seven hours with me here, I’ll give you a massage when we get home.”

“A real one?” you grin.

“Oil and all.”

“Will you be naked?”

“Is there any other way?” he chuckles.

“I love you.”

“You stole the words right out of my mouth.”

Jensen leans down and molds his lips against your own. Being married to him is the best thing you could have ever done. There is never a dull moment in the Ackles house. The door to the break room opens and you pull away from your husband. Your dad, Jeffrey, steps inside to steal a quick snack.

“Come on, kids. We’re on,” he grins mischievously.

“What are you up to?” you narrow your eyes at him.

“Nothing. I have a feeling this panel is about to be a good one.”

Your dad leaves and you take a deep breath in to calm yourself.

“He’s gonna tell the story again, isn’t he?”

“Probably,” Jensen shrugs.

“He’s told everyone he knows about that damn story but never to an audience. I better not see a bunch of memes tomorrow about it.”

“Knowing the fans, probably. Stay off social media for the next week,” he laughs and walks out.

“It’s not funny! Jensen!”

You follow your husband to where your dad is, and all three of you step on stage to greet all the fans who came to watch your panel. They cheer when they see you, and you take a microphone from one of the crew members. You’re not an actor, in fact, you’re far from it. However, you love the community Supernatural fans have created, and love going to these things with Jensen and Jared.

After greetings are done, Jensen and your dad get into the groove of things. They thank people for coming out here, yada, yada, yada. This panel is very inclusive so a lot of fans have questions about upcoming episodes, your lives behind the scenes, and just funny stories of things that have happened to you. No question is off the table so you prepare yourself for whatever comes.

“This question is for Y/N,” a fan asks once the questioning portion of the panel starts.

“Hi, what’s your name?”

“Jessica.”

“Lovely name! I like your hat!”

“Okay, let the girl get to her questions,” Jensen jokes.

“I’m just giving her a compliment. Calm down, old man.” A round of laughter rolls out. “Go ahead, Jessica.”

“I know you were an extra in this last season in a few scenes. My question is, what’s been one of the funniest moments you remember from filming?”

“Oh, that’s a good question,” you grin. You’re not an actor, but you’ve been in a few scenes as a bystander when needed. Jensen loves taking you on set so you can watch, so even if you’re not filming, you’re there to witness their shenanigans. “Okay, you guys remember the episode where my dad guest stared? John Winchester comes back for an episode?”

A round of cheers lets you know they know exactly what you’re talking about.

“You’re really going to tell this story?” your dad asks you.

“I’m telling the story,” you grin. “I’m not sure this is going to make it on the blooper reel or not, but remember the part when Sam was going to crush that small white rock to get rid of John and send him back to the past? Well, we were all super serious and everyone is so in character. Emotions are high and we’re doing our best not to cry. Well, when Jared went to crush the rock, it didn’t shatter as we hoped. Instead, it flew off the table and hit my dad right in the crotch. I swear it was the funniest thing I have ever seen. Jensen, Jared, and I were on the floor in tears.”

“It took us a while to get back into character, but that was a nice break from character,” Jensen grins.

“Oh! I got another story!”

“Really? Another one?” your dad asks.

“So, this was when I was visiting Jen on set but I wanted to pull a prank on my dad since he was coming in that week to film that same episode.”

“Why are you telling them this story?” your dad groans.

“Shh, they’re gonna love it. So, I worked with the director to get him in on this prank. He gave me access to his work email that I then used to send my dad an email regarding the dress code at work.”

You can’t contain your giggles at this point.

“Keep it up, Y/N,” your dad nods.

“Shh! I told him it was dress-as-a-clown-to-work day. Everyone was going to be in costume and we were going to surprise one of the makeup artists since it was her birthday. He believed me.” Everyone starts laughing at what’s to come. “When he showed up that morning in the funkiest clown costume set with the red nose, the rainbow hair, and the big ol’ clown feet, we all died laughing. I even got a video,” you smirk.

Before your dad can protest, you had one of the crew members put it up on the screen behind you so everyone can see. Your dad walks in wearing the clown suit and realization rolls over his face when he knows you set him up. Everyone in the audience is laughing while your dad is smirking at you. You’re not paying attention to him to notice it otherwise you would have turned it off.

“Yeah, so that was a fun day on set.” The video ends. “The best part is, we kept him in that suit all day.”

“You think that’s funny?” your dad asks. Jensen can’t contain his laughter but tries to cover it with a cough. “You wanna go there? Fine. It’s my turn to tell a story.”

“Wait, Dad--”

“No, no, no, you had your fun. It’s my turn now.”

“You’re going to drag me down with her?” Jensen asks.

“You bet your ass.”

You get up to jog off stage when your husband grabs your arm and yanks you back into him.

“Nope. If I have to sit here and endure this, so are you.”

“So, would you all like to know how I knew my daughter was dating Jensen?” Everyone cheers to let him know they are interested. “This was back when I was a regular on the show. Y/N had come on set a few times and was getting friendly with Jensen. I thought nothing of it until one day when I was sitting at home minding my own business.

“I get a call from Y/N where she tells me not to ask any questions and to meet her. I figure she’s in some kind of trouble so I tell her to send me the address and I’m on my way. When she does, I get my beloved baseball bat just in case I need to beat someone’s ass. I rush over to where she is thinking she was at a bar, a friend’s house, whatever. I did not expect to pull up to a child’s playground.

“Still, I’m in protective dad mode. I hear her calling my name so I run over to where she is and stop dead in my tracks. In the child’s castle-dome thing is my daughter, on top of Jensen, naked, stuck in the arch. I mean, I’ve been a little adventurous in my day, but a child’s playground? Seriously?”

“God,” you scoff and shove your face into your husband’s neck.

“Did you call for help?” someone in the audience asks.

“Yeah after about ten minutes of laughing my ass off.”

“Okay,” you say into your mic and pull away from Jensen, “in my defense, that opening looked wider than I thought.” Your dad laughs loudly but you turn to him with a glare. “Don’t start this game with me. I know some shut about you. Better stop now before I tell them about how you mistook some young lady as mom and almost gotten the shit beaten out of you.”

A round of “oohs” sound off, and your dad puts both hands up in defense.

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.”

That incident happened nearly thirteen years ago so you can laugh about it now. You don’t care if people know because it is a funny story. You’re just glad to have stories like that to share. It’s all fun and games, but at the end of the day, you’re surrounded by love.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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xuhuihuis · 7 months

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ZB1HUB: ONLINE

What happens when you mix these well known porn plots with these boys? Well, now you will know and let all of your dreams come true! zb1hub will let you experiment and have fun with these boys one by one.

Episode 1: The Pool Boy In Need - Jiwoong

• Due to the weather the poor Pool Boy was so desperate for a drink. You immediately help him and get a tray of drinks to cool him down but the drinks weren't enough for him. Stripping down to his shorts begging for more until you find another way to help him to cool down...

Episode 2: Out of Tune - Zhanghao

• You have been stressing for many weeks about your final violin piece and now your fate is now in the hands of the best tutor in the city. Spending hours with you praising you when you finally get something right but what happens when that all goes wrong?

Episode 3: Wrong Move - Hanbin

• Your dance captain, Hanbin, has been very stressed all week due to the upcoming competition. Spending hours in the dance studio and nothing is working for him, and this is when he has had enough...

Episode 4: Extra Help - Matthew

• You had no idea where to start in the gym, and Matthew was the friendly face to welcome you into the gym. Doing his best to explain everything the best he can just to make sure it's the best environment for you! the mood changes one day you come in wearing his favourite outfit.

Episode 5: The G Cord - Taerae

• Taerae who would be the best boyfriend and try and teach you how to play guitar. Many dates consisting of helping you on how to play and teaching you the best positions to have your hands in. Everything was going fine until it got to the G chord and he had to help you find it...

Episode 6: The King Of The Court Ricky

• Ricky let the secret go one stream that he was a top basketball player. In countless streams after there were many comments begging him to wear his uniform in a stream, now he's finally given in. This was a one-time special stream that would never happen again, so you wouldn't want to miss this!!!

comment on this post if you would want to be on the tag list !!

#hard hours #k pop smut #zb1 hard thoughts #zb1 hard hours #zb1 smut #sung hanbin smut #kim jiwoong smut #zhanghao smut #taerae smut #seok matthew smut #shen ricky smut

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skania · 2 months

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OnK Chapter 155 Akane Thoughts

Before I start rambling about the chapter, let me just confess that my hopes of Aka delivering some Chapter 51 & 52 parallels in the upcoming weeks just increased exponentially.

I know, I know, I'm probably playing myself but. In this week's episode we see Aqua and Akane go out together and starting to work together as a team.

And in this week's manga chapter, we see... Aqua and Akane go out together and (potentially) starting to work together as a team.

As if to prove that it's no coincidence, Akane is even wearing a choker in both, this week's episode and this week's manga chapter. Even though in the manga, she hasn't worn one since... well, the very chapter the anime is adapting this week.

It's like Aka's break was strategically placed just so the chapter & episode line up 😭

Granted, there's nothing to guarantee that he will keep it up in the next two weeks. Maybe this will be enough for him and he will call it a day. But since we've gotten this far and hope is free, may as well keep hoping while expecting nothing 😂

Moving onto the chapter, full disclosure: I've been half-expecting Akane getting the "Moving On"™ patented haircut because it very much is a thing in Asia, whether it be in manga or in real life. So no surprise there.

The reason she gave on the other hand...

^ My face knowing Aka just served Akane on a silver platter to every Akane hater out there 😂

The funniest thing about all this is that, hello?? The bangs are one thing, but are we supposed to pretend that Akane didn't wear her hair long as a kid? If anything, Akane cut her hair short that first time because her idol wore hers short. So why should anyone take short hair as a more genuine Akane thing than long hair??

But whatever, Aqua went back to his Love Now hair so the choice of haircut itself was obviously just Aka wanting Akane to be in sync with him. Because even if Aka recently spent 4 chapters establishing that Aqua is supposed to end up with someone else, he and Akane are the ones who continue to move as a pair.

Naturally.

So leaving the haircut itself aside, Akane is back to her original hair parting and thus (apparently) done imitating Ai.

The question here is: in what ways exactly has Akane been "imitating" Ai up to this point? Because I know there are a lot of different schools of thought when it comes to that.

As far as I'm concerned though, we have seen Akane, we have seen Ai, and we have seen Akane acting as Ai.

Needless to say, this isn't at all how Akane conducts herself in her day-to-day life lol

However, I don't think she means that she just shaped her hairstyle after Ai to be more like Aqua's ideal girl. That's fair and makes sense on paper, but if "imitating" Ai was just about making her hairstyle more appealing to Aqua, then why didn't she cut her hair after she and Aqua broke up? More than that, why didn't she cut it after she chose to support Kana's love life?

Because the timing of the haircut is key, IMO. She cut her hair short only after Aqua chose happiness and accomplished his revenge. In other words, she cut her hair short only after her goal of saving Aqua was accomplished.

To me, this implies that if Akane has been imitating Ai, it's been in ways that she thought would help her accomplish that goal.

Now, since she hardly speaks this chapter, it's hard to gauge what changes this will bring to Akane's characterization. However, there is one thing that already stands out to me:

Remember what happened when Akane thought that Kamiki killed Ai? She feared that Aqua would get his hands dirty by killing him in turn, and as such decided that she had to deal with Kamiki on her own in order to protect Aqua.

Now she knows that Nino is the Big Bad, and the first thing we see her do is... go discuss the situation with Aqua.

Akane now trusts that Aqua won't break, and so instead of acting on her own to protect him, she wants to be forthcoming with him.

Considering what I mentioned above about Aqua and Akane moving as a pair, I can't help but to think Aka may just be establishing Akane's own version of this:

And — what a coincidence — those lines also fit none other than Ai, who pretended to not love Kamiki and kept her distance from him because of how important he was to her.

Since Ai knew Kamiki was about to break, Ai put on a façade that wouldn't show her own doubts and fears. All in an effort to not burden him more, to protect him better even if she failed at it.

So I'm inclined to believe that may just be how Akane has been imitating Ai.

Aqua recently described Ai as someone who was always carefree, strong and who never cried. Needless to say, he was wrong about her, but that's the impression Ai deliberately tried to give. And what have we seen from Akane, especially lately?

Even when going against her true desires, Ai always put on a smile and remained flippant. So Akane may have been taking a page from that particular book... to be Aqua's perfect support.

His perfect ally.

I theorized before that this star here was Akane fully embracing the role as Aqua's girlfriend, but she wasn't just any kind of girlfriend. She was as supportive of Aqua as she possibly could, always trying to offer him solace, precisely because she knew how burdened Aqua was.

And throughout it all, Akane kept her own feelings and wants very close to her chest. She even intended to say goodbye to him with a smile, not realizing just how hard it would be on her.

Akane has been striving to save Aqua all along and playing any role she deems necessary to accomplish that goal (the supportive girlfriend, the well-meaning ex that gets in the way of his plans), but now that Aqua has finally been saved, she doesn't need to put on a mask anymore. Unlike Ai, who wore hers nearly until the very end.

With that reading, I can't help but think that Akane's wording was pretty clever. If she wants to be vague about her haircut being related to the "saving Aqua chapter" finally coming to a close for her, saying that she no longer needs to imitate Ai is a good way to convey it without actually saying it.

I may be completely off about all this, though. Truth is, we could sit here all day trying to figure out Akane's thoughts and Aka's intended meaning, but we all know that a lot of people will be running off with the most unflattering interpretations and they could be right for all I know. Aka's mind sometimes works in twisted ways 😂

That said, one unflattering interpretation I do want to fight against is that of Akane's feelings for Aqua just being an emulation of Ai's own. That doesn't add up, because Akane's goal from the get-go has been to help Aqua be happy.

And she had that goal even before she started imitating Ai:

Unless Aka retcons this, Akane's feelings for Aqua are Akane's own. He saved her and helped her be happy, and Akane has always been seeking to save him and help him be happy in turn.

It is possible that Akane has been trying to fill for Aqua the role of unconditional love and support that Ai would've filled for him if only she were alive. That's more or less just another way to say everything I already mentioned above.

However, even in that case, this should be motivated by her own feelings for him rather than Ai's. Not to mention, Ai's feelings for Aqua are motherly feelings and thus, strictly platonic. Meanwhile, Akane's for Aqua were paralleled to Ai's for her lover literally just a chapter ago:

So if Aka's writing is consistent, that particular interpretation should be off the table.

But that's enough time spent trying to make sense of Akane's line and Aka's intention behind it lol

Moving on, I can't help but notice what a big coincidence it is that right after we get a chapter showing that Ai and Kamiki are (in many ways) a failed Akane/Aqua, we now get a chapter where Akane cuts her hair short to differentiate herself from Ai.

Akane and Aqua may just be about to move into uncharted territory.

The first time we saw Aqua and Akane team up in Love Now, they did so as a business, fake relationship. Now, they're (potentially) teaming up all over again and being more honest while they're at it. What kind of dynamic will we see now, I wonder?

Granted, it doesn't have to involve anything romantic. This could be very well Aka setting up the stage for Aqua and Akane to end up as friends, and I'd personally be fine with that as long as it's executed well.

Regardless of the nature of his feelings though, I can't help but remember this:

Aqua once said that he will like Akane no matter what kind of Akane she is. With some luck, we may just see Aqua finally prove that he meant it.

His reaction when he saw her was so funny though. Aqua's feelings for Akane can be interpreted in many different ways, but indifference definitely isn't a plausible one lmao

Even here in this panel he's anything but indifferent. Almost like Akane just broached a sore subject

Also, it is kind of poetic that as soon as happiness is back on the table for Aqua, we see Aqua and Akane reunite on a chapter titled "Happy Ending" of all things lol

Now, onto the plot! It's nice to have confirmation that Aqua did originally intend to kill Kamiki. I'd like to know what exactly entailed his original plan, but that may be asking for too much at this point.

We still don't know what changed Aqua's mind, though. This chapter presents it as Aqua simply respecting Ruby's choice, but like I mentioned before, if that was all there was to it, then why didn't Aqua change his mind after he saw Ruby act the "I don't love you" scene for the first time? What let Aqua finally accept that Ruby's version of revenge was the right one?

On that same note, this chapter seems to confirm that Aqua has now embraced his life as Aqua Hoshino. He once discarded the naive thought of being happy, but now he seems ready to move on and getting a happy ending. Last time we saw Aqua pre time-skip on Chapter 151, his stars were still black. So, what gave?

We should still be missing a piece to solve that particular puzzle, IMO. I do think that Aka will eventually show it, even if it ends up being something as simple as "Kana True Oshi ❤️" (lmao)

Speaking about puzzles, it's hilarious how Aka makes Aqua be smart only when it's convenient to him. Just like Aqua magically could tell that his father was Kamiki just "thanks to Akane's movements", now he was suddenly able to tell that Nino was the big bad 😂 At least we're being told Akane already figured that out for herself, so that's good.

I swear though, if this doesn't all end with Aqua asking Akane what her happy ending is, I'll riot. Akane has spent the entire manga trying to save Aqua, and now that he's saved, she will be working to make everyone's happy ending possible. So Aqua better put in some effort to make sure Akane gets her happy ending too, whatever that may entail.

Things are moving super fast though, way faster than I thought they would. Now they even know about Yura, like?? Hopefully we'll at least get a few flashback panels to show how in the world they knew about her, because Aka is seriously pushing it lmao

In-before Aqua and Akane use a B-Komachi concert as bait to draw Nino into making a move so they can catch her. With everyone's help, of course 😂

I also can't help but wonder if Kamiki may pull some strings so that Ruby can have her Dome concert...

Everyone could see the Nino reveal coming after what happened with Kamiki, so I won't dwell on that. What I do find interesting though is that Nino is being presented as a fan gone wrong. She is everything a fan shouldn't strive to be. So knowing Aka, it's only natural that she will be contrasted to someone who is a true fan. Someone who genuinely wants only the best for their idol, without seeking to own them in any way.

Considering everything that has happened in the story, the two people who are most apt to fulfill that contrast are Aqua and Ruby. In Aqua's case in particular, that's a very interesting thought... especially considering his relationship with Kana and what Kana wants out of him: to be his number one idol, an idol that is an idol for him and him alone.

But we'll have to wait and see whether Aka sticks to his values or not 😂

All in all though, I'm very pleased that this chapter seems to put Akane front and center in this final arc, which is exactly what I was hoping for 😭 And I even got Miyako! I wish her relationship with Ruby and Aqua weren't so underdeveloped, because that family hug could've been one of the manga highlights for me otherwise.

I do kind of worry that Aka may pretend that now that Aqua has (more or less) embraced his life as Aqua Hoshino, there's no need for anyone else to know that he once was Goro though. Akane learning about it is the one thing I've always wanted to see in this manga, so I really hope Aka will at least let me have that much

#aquakane #aquaka #akane kurokawa #aqua hoshino #I was praying that aka would bring akane back this chapter to match the anime and he did #I really really hope this is leading to the parallels come on aka deliver #my aquakane meta

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marianasue · 10 days

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sydcarmy truthers , hear me out !

I don´t know , but I have a theory , maybe it´s gonna be true in the upcoming season , and maybe not , anyway I just want to share it with you and hear your opinions about it .

guys , do you remember the conversation between Emmanuel and syd in s2 , during her mother birthday .

when Emmanuel talked about his third date .

focus with me :

the next episode I think , carm told syd to go with him to kasama: this is supposed to be their first date but sadly claire interepted .

in s3 , carm invites syd to ever to go with him also : this is supposed to be a second date but sadly chef david was there .

my theory is :

in the upcoming season , we gonna get the third date , I don´t know how or when or why , but there must be a third one .

why I´m saying this ?

because I felt that Emmanuel story with syd mom may be repeated again with carm and sydney .

something catched my attention is , when syd mom fixed the car problem , sydney said to her dad :´´ you didn´t know that her dad was a mecanic ?!

emmanuel said : absoluetly .

and this is really interesting , because until now I assume that carm knows nothing about emmanuel, especially his job .

what if something similar may happen between the two , and syd open up about her dad and mom to carm ??????

I don´t know but can you see my vision , I´m smelling a third date in the air , can you feel it with me ??????

I´m waiting ...

#sydcarmy #sydxcarm #the bear

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reflections-in-a-critical-eye · 1 month

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Are You Sure?! - Episode 2 Observations

10/10 ☆

I can't believe I've actually procrastinated so much that it's the evening before the third episode of AYS and I still haven't written a thing about the second! And it was also the one I liked best. But when I thought about it, what to pick from it, I found it difficult because almost all their activities and moments are worthy of discussion. But at the same time, I'm not really in the mood here to dissect everything. I've seen so many good posts in the last week that I feel like I don't have anything else to say that hasn't been analyzed from every angle.

I've also started to focus more on the crime shows (the Yorkshire Ripper is now playing on my tv) because I really need to channel my attention somewhere else for the next three weeks. Which also means I can't promise whatsoever that I'll be doing a more lengthy writing about the upcoming episodes. I'm not saying no completely, but from my position right now it's not looking that much fun, but I'll keep an open mind.

Right, let me just write about whatever comes to mind and apologies for this lazy attempt.

A friend asked about the favorite moments so far and I instantly thought of the second evening Jimin and Jungkook spent at that house. Actually, it started before during their trip to the store when they decided that pasta's on the menu that night. Jungkook losing focus because of twinkies, Jimin being just a tiny bit exasperated but also clearly used to all of that.

He might have been wondering about, but that was when Jungkook became laser focused on cooking the most authentic carbonara for Jimin so he gets a gold star. No, actually let's say he gets 10 out of 10 Baby Star Candies for it.

🐥🐰

Back at the house, it is among the few moments in the show in which the staff/camera people managed the "incredible" task of not showing up in the frame, but also making the presence of the camera somehow even more visible than in other situations because of this specific context. I'll explain. (I find the BH staff extremely incompetent from a skill perspective and I do admit that what I might choose to interpret as formal choices might as well be nothing. But I'm working with images here and what is ultimately presented).

During their stay at the house, there was this illusion created that they indeed might be alone there in the kitchen, cooking together and then having drinks. And despite knowing that they had go pros and cameras positioned around the house, there was a third element there. One that in some shots, it created this illusion of complete intimacy, as if there was this move from variety content in the form of reality tv style, to something that suddently almost looked like a film sequence. A couple and their routine.

It was also the part that made me feel like a voyeur for the first time, which is something that I've encountered before with Jikook. This time, it was due to a very particular shot and framing.

We as an audience, are positioned intently to look at them through the window. We're allowed to take a peak at what's happening inside that kitchen. We are made to feel part of the environment when we see the shots from inside the house, from the cameras set up to catch multiple angles and the cameras used by jikook themselves. They are making their audience part of it.

But then, for a few seconds, we are pulled back, literally outside looking in. Is this just a way to have a diversity in the shots used at editing? Most likely. But editing always tells a story, whether there's intent or not. It can tell the story the editor/director wants, but it can also tell a story that the viewer ends up picking upon and analyze.

I see that shot as a reminder of my position as an outsider to their story. A reminder that by standing outside, looking in, we are missing so many things that are out of frame. A reminder that perhaps we should not act as the all-knowing fans, as if we have a crystal ball. Or more than that, to judge and micro-analyze every gesture and every word in order to deconstruct something, more often than not in order to dispute even the level of friendship/closeness.

We have always seen a relationship between these two people through mediated sources. That involve editing. That also involves omissions and white lies even in unedited livestreams. That situation should make us think more and to actually understand that there's an actual, more complex life shared there. We see glimpses of it, from gestures, tones, touches and they paint a particular picture, but that shouldn't turn into a way in which we have to look for more proof either in order to confirm suspicions or what has become more clear lately, proof to disprove everything there is to them.

And isn't that a waste of energy? When we could witness such a lovely evening that perhaps only cemented even more that caring for one another has so many forms. And that being vocal about the appreciation for another is so important to be verbalized. It shows people that they are loved (I think Jimin said it to Jungkook many years ago during a game they had when Jungkook had to prank Jimin by complimenting him. Jungkook now doesn't need excuses anymore).

#m thoughts #jikook #jikook travel show #jikook are you sure

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estro-gem · 11 months

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Jax x Ragatha: The snake and the water spring

The Amazing Digital Circus AU: Oasis.

Author's note: I found this show by chance and I took a great liking to it! So now I did a thing, instead of studying for upcoming exams, because I love making things difficult for myself, apparently.

I have no idea what the fandom is like, but I'm playing it safe just to be... well... safe. I just loved the concept of this show so much that I couldn't help but be inspired by it! It got me thinking and I let it all out in this... thing.

I want to write more one-shot fics about the other characters and how they fit into this au too, but I don't know when I'll be able to.

WARNING! None of these characters are mine and everything mentioned and described is purely made-up fiction; inspired by works that are not my own. Nothing should be considered canon or taken seriously - we are all here to have some harmless fun! No age restrictions. I think this might be appropriate for all ages...?

Please show some love and support for Gooseworx; the creator of The Amazing Digital Circus!

I definitely butchered Gooseworx's characters by adding unnecessary 'relationship dynamics' and deviating from their original personalities. I promise that the actual show and characters are so much better than they are in my false portrayal of them.

SUMMARY:

A fanmade take on the events following Pomni's arrival and after the crew had dinner together. This is focused on Jax's point of view, but still written in the third person.

Jax confronts Ragatha after the pilot episode's 'dinner' and does his best to comfort her in a way that works for them. That's it.

Please enjoy!

THE SNAKE AND THE WATER SPRING

Jax was a desert snake.

Nothing but a cold-blooded pest that lived to find his next meal.

When one is left to die under the scorching sun, you can’t stomp on the sun for creating a desert, but you could stomp on the desert snake if it added to the pain of surviving in said desert. The Digital Realm was nothing but a desert sun – a cage with no exit and an evil with no target.

It was no secret why so many had lost their minds here.

Jax took on the role of being the snake. It was never announced or planned, but it was deemed necessary by all who came to know the realm. The inhabitants of The Amazing Digital Circus craved any sense of control; something they could hold accountable for their torment – something they could punish. A menace, parasite.

Evil with a target: Jax.

It was fun to act out while everybody went about their lives. He could unapologetically be the worst being known to man and thrive on the rage and hatred of all he had affected. If they hated him, he was fulfilling his role perfectly… and that meant they could stay sane and do their parts as he did his. Less people would be lost to insanity… and the group would grow stronger.

Everyone had a role in their system – an oasis was established, with Ragatha as the heart of the oasis; their very own water spring.

But when a new invading creature bursts into the oasis with no knowledge of this system, their system would be doomed. Pomni happened to be that invader. Everyone could collectively, yet silently agree that she was acting by her own careless devices since she arrived a few hours ago. She greedily soaked up their water source and left it barren, dry, and suffering.

Granted, Pomni didn’t know how their oasis worked, but it didn’t change the fact that she disrupted everything by showing up. She would have to catch on quickly and prove herself useful, before anyone else loses their minds.

They lost one of their own already… and they almost lost their beloved Ragatha; Jax’s equal and opposite.

Their precious water source.

Snakes offered venom, while water springs offered hope of life. They all desperately needed Ragatha to survive. While most would assume her to be fine after being fixed by Caine, Jax knew better than that. He saw her reluctantly stand aside Pomni to support her – beautifully acting within her role as she always would, but it was clear that Pomni still didn’t understand how scarce the water was by then. Rags was spread thin enough by handling the extra stress and enduring the continuous pain of being corrupted by the abstraction, but that didn’t stop Pomni from practically having a mental breakdown at the dinner table.

Jax saw that coming from a mile away. Thank goodness he silently took the open seat next to Pomni, silent in his insistence that the ragdoll should keep her distance for the time being. He’d give anything to destroy the little jester for abusing his doll. Ragatha was acting perfectly normal at the time – her masked smile perfectly set on her face – until it was time for them all to retire to their respective bedrooms.

Jax wished that he would’ve just dragged her after him when he booked it from the abstraction earlier today. Pomni would have been the perfect distraction for them to escape and get Caine.

He stood at Ragatha’s door after dinner.

Jax made a point to ring the doorbell this time. Usually, he’d just pluck out a key and saunter in like he owns the place, but with what happened today, he’d make an exception. Everyone has their limit – and someone has already reached their limit today. They couldn’t risk losing another one. Especially not Raggs. They all really needed her.

When she didn’t open, he tried the bell again. Nothing.

Well, time for the key, then.

He shoved his hand down his front pocket and fished out the doll’s room key. The bunny didn’t waste time opening the door. He wanted to see what state the girl was in, despite dreading the possibility of finding an abstracted amalgamation on the other side.

Silence.

Not even a creak was heard from the hallway. The room was lit up as it usually was, so that was a good sign, at least. Jax couldn’t see an obvious black body of eyes – another win. But where was Ragatha? He did see her walk into her room, so she had to be here.

He walked around, keeping his cool, casual composure fixed, despite no one being around. It was effortless at this point. It became a way for him to focus on what he could control in this crazy digital prison; himself.

He couldn’t, however, control his ability to spot a blasted ragdoll, it would seem. He scanned the room again, until his eyes fell on her ¾ bed. Could she-?

The bunny rolled his eyes at himself as he lowered himself onto his knees – maybe he could convince himself that he was not phased by the situation. Bending down, he peered beneath the bed frame.

Jax sighed in exasperation. Or was it relief? Both?

Ragatha was in the state she was in before retiring to her room. No gliching, no extra eyes.

Just Raggs.

She didn’t look good, though. The doll was curled up beneath her bed and blindly staring ahead of her. It didn’t look like she was breathing – not that they needed to anyway, but it was uncanny to see Rags like this. She was their voice of reason. She was a water spring in this desert.

If she dried up, their desert would be doomed.

Jax silently stood up and walked back to the open door again. No need to make a fuss over this. He took hold of the door handle and shut it from the inside. Key in hand, he locked the door and nodded to himself. Ragatha needed a raincloud… and he’d have to fill that role now. It’s the least he could do after leaving her to fend for herself when they found the abstraction today.

Why didn’t she run with him? Why did think she could fix someone whose mind was broken beyond repair? Why didn’t she just leave the rookie as bait?

Because that just wasn’t her role, was it?

If it weren’t for her nature – her role – none of them would have made it this far. It dawned on Jax, once again, how close they were to losing their beloved doll. How close they were to being stuck with an invader who knew nothing about what it took to survive in this hell hole.

Enough.

Back to the bed, crouched down and silent Jax positioned himself to lay down and simply look over the red head from a relative distance. There was enough space for the doll to crawl out of hiding without having to touch him. The bunny still hadn’t said a word. It’d be stupid to talk, and he didn’t feel like making the effort. He just wanted things back to normal again – well… as normal as it could have been.

Now Kaufmo is gone, a new creature was invading their home, tearing it up from the roots and tipping the delicate scales of the balance they worked very hard on creating. All because of a lunatic ringmaster having the bright idea of creating a fake exit-door. Someone better get that jester on a tight leash to get her to fall in line, like the rest of them were forced to.

He knew he, for one, wouldn’t mind roughing her up a bit. It was his specialty – his role. The parasite. The menace. The instigator.

Evil with an actual target.

The sound of shifting and movement had Jax blink out of his own head. Ragatha was slowly and dumbly making her way out from under her bed. Her eyes were still fogged over and her face still eerily blank, but at least she came out of hiding out of her own will. In a matter of seconds, the doll was out from her hiding place and settled on the floor beside Jax. She was staring him in the eyes now, waiting for the bunny, silently pleading.

Jax hadn’t had his aloof-douchebag persona engaged since he locked Ragatha’s door. She didn’t need a menace now – she needed to be grounded; revitalized. She needed a dark raincloud to fill up the water spring they all needed.

He didn’t look forward to what needed to be done, but he wouldn’t allow anyone else to do it.

He moved to stand up and held out a hand to help her up. He took note of the way her hand was shaking when she took his and gently guided her to the bed. The red head was the first to sit, then moved to lay down on her back and numbly stare at the ceiling. With a deep breath, Jax gathered himself mentally and cautiously crept onto the bed and positioned himself to briefly hover over her, before lowering his full weight onto Ragatha.

He had his head in the crook of her neck, on the left shoulder with his ears folding back to floppily droop to his upper back… with his left hand resting on the opposite shoulder. His body, although slim, enveloped hers and caused her to sink slightly into the mattress. His legs just loosely laid over and aside the ragdoll’s. It was more important to have his weight resting on her torso anyway.

For a long moment, they just motionlessly laid on the bed like this. To an outsider, it would look like they fell asleep atop each other or simply cuddled together very closely.

An outsider wouldn’t see that Jax was focused on the slow process of Ragatha’s body relaxing under his weight and her breathing slowing to a regular rhythm. An outsider wouldn’t have known that this was hardly the first time they’d done this – how long it took Jax to learn that this make-shift deep-pressure therapy was the most effective grounding technique for Ragatha to collect herself again.

They wouldn’t understand that Jax didn’t do this out of wanting to, but rather out of necessity.

Jax didn’t like to be touched. If anything, he was very capable of merely tolerating it. Everyone in the circus knew that he was touch-averse; some even used that as leverage to mess with him if the situation called for it. It was a necessity that he endured to keep his doll sane – to keep anyone of importance here in the circus, sane. Their whole lives revolved around mental strength. It was all just a matter of staying sane.

The laid there for what felt like a lifetime.

Slight shifting beside Jax alerted him that the doll was moving her arms – previously stiffly pinned to her sides. This was good, she felt comfortable enough to move around now!

Her left hand gently snaked up to the bunny’s head and slowly, softly petted his ears in a longitude motion. Her right hand wrapped loosely around his middle-to-lower back – motionless. This was bad, Jax did not like being touched like that!

While he was fine with the rhythmic touches of Ragatha’s left hand, he despised the idle position of the right hand resting on his back. He couldn’t prevent himself from tensing up in discomfort.

Bad touch, bad touch, bad-

This caused the ragdoll to tense up and rip her hands off him as if he burned her.

Oh no you don’t! We are not starting all over again.

He slowly pulls away and propped up unto his elbows, hearing Ragatha’s breathing pick up as she presumably spirals into her own thoughts on how he was going to leave her like this. Jax cast down a disapproving look. He broke his gaze to unceremoniously take her right hand – now clutched close to her chest – and intertwined their fingers, before resting his head on her left shoulder once again. He close eyes as he use his free hand to put her left hand on his head again, waiting for her to resume her petting.

Good touch; this was a good touch. Please understand.

Thankfully, Ragatha relaxed… and continued her previous slow, rhythmic motions. Slowly, Jax felt her relax once again and he indulged into her need for touch by stroking his thumb over hers occasionally.

Soon they fell into a rhythm; Ragatha would pet Jax’s ears 3 times, then it was his turn to stroke his thumb over hers. Then they would repeat the routine. This also helped Jax cope with the touching; the routine. The rhythm.

It felt like hours ticked by as the two just practiced their little unspoken routine. Jax grew used to it after a while, almost forgetting that his new mattress was now a sentient ragdoll and completely tuned into their rhythm of touches.

Pet… pet… pet… thumb. Pet… pet… pet… thumb.

Jax didn’t like touch, but he loved routine.

The doll and the bunny’s time together, once nothing but grounding techniques, grew to become an intimate exchange of touches and caresses – all wrapped in a routine, like a dance. Jax felt warm and fuzzy inside; for once he basked in the moment of enjoying his dolly. He lazily wondered if Ragatha felt the same. He shifted his head to look at her.

The doll looked down to meet his eyes when she felt him move. He could swear that she looked at peace, basking in the bliss of their closeness. For some reason, she looked like an angel. They all saw her as their angel. Had he successfully pinned a heavenly body beneath him?

Her gentle, longing gaze made a kaleidoscope of butterflies erupt from his core.

This wasn’t the first time this feeling invaded his being when they did this – as rare as these moments were. He wasn’t sure when he started experiencing such feelings during these rare encounters, but as months crawled by, he felt drawn to his dolly more and more. Based on how she looked at him, he could only assume that she felt it too.

Something so foreign, yet so familiar.

He didn’t fail to spot the warmth rushing to her cheeks when their eyes met. She looked so ethereal beneath him, especially when her breathing picked up under his firm gaze. Her lips were parted, and her eyes were lidded. This time, it wasn’t fear or overstimulation. It was anticipation. It was desire.

Jax internally flinched at the tingly sensation when he smoothly burrowed his face into Ragatha’s neck. She shivered at the breath he let out against her skin. He could tolerate the touching a little longer, as long as he could see her crumble again. He wanted to see her walls crumble again.

“Jax- ”

Oh… he had to hear her again. More clearly, next time. This was torture, but she made him into her own personal masochist. His skin crawled at the sensation of her skin shivering against him, but he needed more. He could take it. Just a little longer – he just had to stand these sensations a little longer. He looked at her again.

Ragatha was reverting to a helpless puddle. The doll’s arms were gripping at the covers beneath her, successfully eliminating the bother of excessive contact that he despised. Jax didn’t know if she did it with that intension or without thinking, but either way, he was thankful. He really wanted more.

Why couldn’t he just be normal?

He lifted onto his elbows again and – dare one say – lovingly looked at her face. She could only peek back at him, breathing slightly faster than usual. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her shaky hand rise from the covers and hover next to his cheek, while her eyes pleaded for his mercy. He hesitated but bit the bullet to comply; leaning into her touch while desperately trying to ignore the odd tingles. Jax convinced himself to kiss her wrist and drowned himself in the pleasure of hearing her softly call his name.

He only heard it because he was listening so closely for it.

Yes.

DING DONG

In a flash, Jax braced himself up into a crouch and slammed his foot down with a mighty THUMP upon hearing Ragatha startle into a fit when the doorbell chimed. His hair on his back stood on end and his claws ripped through his gloves, leaving gouges in the covers beside the doll’s head.

His precious doll was disturbed again!

He heard her soft cry of fear and his blood boiled with a thirst for vengeance. Only he can make her cry out. He’ll skin the soul that dared to-

“Ragatha…? Can we talk?”

That DAMN jester!

“Jax?” a quiet voice trembled in his ear from beneath him. Jax stopped glaring at the door to softly glance down and see what his little doll wanted.

“Don’t…” Raggs sounded like she was begging while being held at gunpoint, whispering despite their rooms being enchanted to not hear anything from the outside when the door is shut.

Jax wouldn’t dare let that thing inside. Raggs was upset enough as it is.

“Look, I know it probably wouldn’t make a difference…” Pomni’s voice came from the other side door again, “…but I’m so sorry for running off… Again… I saw that exit and I had to see if it was real. No one else believed me and I started to think that I was losing my mind. You understand that, right?”

Jax placed both his hands down on the mattress, blocking the doll’s view of the door as if it could block the sound of the voice from reaching the Raggs’s ears, still hovering over her. He knew that his dolly didn’t want to hear anything the harlequin had to say now – he had half the mind to get up and bash the newbie’s head in.

“I hope we can talk about this some time. You are probably tired after such a long, crazy day.” Pomni’s voice died down near the end, “It feels like you’re the only good person here.”

She really is, but she’s too good for you. Selfish leech.

Jax looks down to the girl, still stiff as a board beneath him. Her eye was shiny with the swell of tears. He melted at the sight – anger simmering down. She was just a sweet little rag dolly, she didn’t deserve any of this, but oh, he was so happy to see Ragatha finally emote something again. She was OK again. Their water source was filled once again, now threatening to spill over. He’d happily welcome the flood.

He needed her.

The sound of fading footsteps causes Jax to rip his eyes to the direction of the door. His hearing was better than the dolls, probably thanks to being a rabbit.

Good riddance.

Ragatha seemed to relax at the sight of Jax deflating his stance, reading that Pomni probably left her door. She hesitantly reached up to cup Jax’s cheek. Jax followed her hand’s motion and scoffed, cringing at the invasion. He’s had enough touching for a week. It sucked to leave his doll so soon after being distressed again, but he couldn’t bring himself stand any more of this. He quickly got up and smoothed out his clothes, but not without missing the flash of hurt in the doll’s eyes. He felt bad, but he had to be strong with the new girl around, so straining himself now would only make matters worse and mess up the whole system.

Still, seemingly bored, Jax stood in his spot while rocking on his heels and looking off to the side, only sparing her a glance. Raggs sat up by then. She looked a little worse for wear, but it’s an improvement from hiding under her bed. She rested her elbows on her knees with her chin in her hands. The hurt in her eyes was long gone, but she looked tired. Poor thing, Jax shared the sentiment.

He felt her eye bore into the side of his face and the bunny couldn’t stop himself before he rolled his eyes and looked to her again. He could’ve choked on air when he saw her face, but the years of steeling his demeanor left no trace of his inner turmoil.

Raggs sported that longing look in her eyes again.

They were so close this time – closer than they’ve ever been before. Each time they spent together on nights like this, although few and far between, they grew closer… and hungrier. Neither understood what it was, but they never had the chance to just collapse into it, tonight being the closest to that.

But there was always something, right?

Jax allowed gaze to soften. His doll offered a small smile that almost ripped his heart out if his chest. It was drenched with melancholy of something she knew they could never have.

Because their roles in their little ecosystem didn’t allow for it to ever be theirs. It would never work.

This was survival.

The rabbit steeled his demeanor once again, but this time, his doll’s face didn’t fall.

Good, as it should be.

Jax walked to the door and fished out the key from his front pocket. He didn’t bother looking back. If he did, he wouldn’t have the will to leave anymore. When he opened the door, though, he couldn’t help but mumble out teasingly.

“See yah later, Doll~!”

He wished that he could shout his affections for her out into the void instead.

“I’m not your doll.” Ragatha responded, voice still wobbly and tired, but perky regardless. She knew just how to indulge him.

Yes, she is… she always will be.

Fanart: Evil with a target

Oasis: TADC AU list

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thatfeelinwhenyou · 9 months

Text

KINDRED — 33

It’s your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor can’t seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academy’s top student, their star athlete and put them in front of a camera?

smau + written (5.1k words 💀)

❥･• episode 33 — the bane of my existence

The ceiling of your room is adorned with handwritten notes of keywords you were supposed to memorise for your mid-terms. The notes are large enough for you to easily read them, especially as you lie flat on your back on the bed, as you are now. Throughout the term, you had gradually covered the ceiling with these notes, dedicating the last two weeks before the exam to repeating them over and over again in your head as you drifted off to sleep.

Despite the exams being over, you have yet to take them down to be replaced by new notes you’d be curating for the new term. With nothing but time, you find yourself spending hours staring at the section dedicated to your English Literature notes, wondering why you never noticed it. You can't help but reflect on the 30 minutes before bed that you could have spent memorising the highlighted words. Perhaps then, you wouldn't have fumbled so hard in the vocabulary section, and you wouldn't be in your current predicament—separated from your friends, from Jungwon, forced to skip your own farewell party, and school itself.

You never expected your mother to willingly let you stay home, especially during your final semester at Decelis Academy. You thought she'd prefer you practically living in school. On what grounds did she choose to ground you? Because you ended up second on the scoreboard? That’s bullshit.

As a matter of fact, it seems counterintuitive for her to keep you at home for self-study as a disciplinary action. The situation is baffling to you—as a senior in high school with less than three months left until finals, it doesn't make sense that you're wasting time at home instead of being in school.

In truth, your mother is perplexed, even a bit terrified. But what exactly is she terrified of?

Change, that’s what.

Changes that manifested after Jungwon came into your life. How, instead of returning home late from the library after a long revision session, you now return late after spending the entire day with him. He’s a constant presence; waiting at your gateway, observing as you consciously stroll down the gravel to your doorstep, turning back to thank him for walking you home and bidding him goodbye.

Moreover, you divert your attention from your own studies, putting in extra effort to tutor him so he could compete in his upcoming competition. Instead of sharing the events of your day with your mother, you find yourself engrossed in texting him at the dinner table—something you’ve never dared to do before. She would nag at you over the smallest details, and you no longer quietly listen even if you are in the right, but rather engage by talking back, defending, or justifying yourself.

As a consequence, you've shifted from being at the top of the pyramid to now occupying the second position, trailing behind a library secretary. Yet, it seems like these changes haven't affected you in the slightest.

It feels as though you are finally managing to form your own opinions and make your own decisions. It's as if you no longer need her.

These changes, this departure from the routine she had come to expect, terrifies your mother. The fear of losing the daughter she thought she knew, the fear of a new chapter that doesn’t align with the plans she had envisioned, leaves her bewildered and uneasy.

When she looks at you, she sees a reflection of herself from years ago when she was a student. She recalls the time she met your father, fell in love, and sacrificed her dreams to follow his path and have you, only for him to later abandon both of you to pursue his own endeavours.

So, the mere thought of you, broken and lonely after what she assumes will be Jungwon eventually leaving you, intensifies her hatred for him. The déjà vu becomes too real, and she firmly believes she's doing what's best for you, even if you end up resenting her for it.

At some point, you started living your life for your mother rather than yourself, and you're aware of this subconsciously—the paradox of being both the subject and object in her pursuit of validation. Even then, it’s hard to let go of everything you once believed in altogether.

No, rather, you want to believe it's true. You want to believe your mother is right, and the status quo she has set for you is genuinely for the best:

Your goal is to enter an elite local university.

You aspire to be a doctor.

Mother is not controlling.

You don't need a man to validate your worth.

Which seem rather ironic as you contemplate how, essentially, you are a pawn in your mother’s subconscious quest to prove your father wrong about her. Her motives, however well-intentioned, have inadvertently moulded your path.

It's a narrative in which she’s determined to show that even in his absence, your mother is fully capable of nurturing a child, specifically her child. The belief embedded in her actions is that one day, you will emerge successful, surpassing what she might have achieved had she chosen to pursue her own dreams back then. This belief, however, unravels into a conundrum because, if your mother could turn back time and choose a different path, you wouldn’t be here.

As these thoughts weigh heavily on your mind, you find yourself truly overthinking it. You sit up on the bed, your body leaning against the frame, and your surroundings seem to echo with the gravity of your contemplation.

It's barely past 10 in the morning, and you can't help but wonder about the mundane yet comforting routines of your friends. Beomgyu is probably relieved that Chemistry is over, recalling him perpetually complaining about having the subject for their first period. Chanelle and Yunjin are likely engaged in their usual ritual of placing bets on the lunch menu. Gyuvin is probably sleeping again, and Riki is likely disturbing some poor kid by launching staple bullets from the back of the room.

And then there's Jungwon, perhaps experiencing a quiet sense of relief at your absence, no longer subjected to reminders to pay attention or being shaken awake just as he teeters on the edge of drifting off into dreamland. The vivid details of their potential activities form a contrast to the complex musings clouding your thoughts.

The room, once a sanctuary, now bears the weight of aching tensions. With a sigh, you rise from your bed, a restless energy propelling you forward. Just then, you hear a slight knock against your window.

Wait, your room is on the second floor; what could be banging against it?

Tok. There it is again. The sound echoes throughout your room. You approach the window ledge with apprehension, visibly flinching as a small rock flies towards you, knocking against the glass that separates you from the tiny projectile.

Determined to catch who is disturbing your peace on this calm Friday morning, you march up to your window frame, planning to give whoever it is a piece of your mind. Your gaze follows the direction from where the stone came, and to your surprise, you see Jungwon excitedly waving towards you from behind the giant tree in your front yard.

As you open the window, the sounds and sights of the outside world flood in. The pre-winter morning sun casts a warm glow on the scene, highlighting the details of the landscape outside. The gentle rustle of leaves, distant chirping of birds, and the distant hum of the town come together in a natural symphony of morning sounds. The tranquil scene outside your room stands in opposition to the turmoil within, amplifying the surreal nature of the moment. It's really him.

"Hey! Sorry for the wake-up call. Come on down; I wanna bring you somewhere.” Jungwon’s voice rises above the ambient noise.

“What are you doing here?! Aren’t you supposed to be in school right now?” You attempt to raise your voice just enough, afraid that your mother would overhear.

“I was, until I realised how boring it is without you nagging at me every five seconds. So, I thought I'd bring a little adventure to your day.” The spontaneity of the gesture catches you off guard, momentarily eclipsing the complexities of your internal monologues.

Being deprived of any form of human interaction left you craving, and for a second, you almost accept his proposal without thinking.

“I can’t leave, Won. I’m grounded; my mom is going to kill me if she finds out.”

"Then we'll make sure she doesn't. You'll be back before you even know it, Y/N." The idea is tempting, yes, but you are also unsure if you are ready to face the consequences if, for some reason, things do not go the way you want them to (as always).

"I skipped class for this. I think it shows how much I really miss spending time with you, Y/N."

"As if you never skipped class before we started filming for the documentary." Jungwon sheepishly smiles and subconsciously rubs the back of his neck. The memories of those carefree days filming the documentary flood back, adding a nostalgic touch to the present moment.

You were about to decline for the second time when he skilfully pulls out those cat eyes that you dearly admired. Those captivating eyes that Jungwon knows you can never say "no" to. It's the only efficient method he remembers using to convince you to watch a movie with him everytime he wanted to get out of your long study sessions.

And he's right; those cat eyes works like a damn charm. Because you are now desperately climbing out your window, clinging for dear life against the rusty pipes. As you navigate the unconventional escape route, Jungwon tries hard to suppress his laughter, not wanting to discourage you.

As your feet touch the ground, you become acutely aware of the brisk chill in the air, a stark contrast to the period spent locked up in your makeshift jail cell. Only when you stand before the boy do you fully realise how cold the weather has gotten since the last time you saw him. And unlike Jungwon, who is covered from head to toe, you find yourself in just trousers and an oversized t-shirt.

Promptly, he detects the tiny hairs on your arms standing, and without a moment's hesitation, Jungwon removes his padded jacket, swirling it around your shoulders, instantly enveloping you in warmth.

But It's not just the jacket; it's the proximity of Jungwon that warms you up, his closeness palpable as he adjusts the padding to sit perfectly on the blades of your shoulders. You can practically feel his breath on your neck as he fusses with the collar.

As he fidgets with the article of clothing, Jungwon's actions appear purposeful, yet in reality, he is merely using it as an excuse to draw even closer to you. But he’s not the only one taking advantage of the moment, though, as you seize the opportunity to embrace him. Your arms winding around his waist beneath his uniform blazer and you softly whisper a grateful "Thank you," eliciting a subtle shiver that courses down his spine.

"For what? I’m only lending it to you, you already have a few of my hoodies stocked up. Which reminds me, when are you returning them?" You pinch his sides playfully, and he flinches, the playful exchange bringing the two of you even closer. As if there were any more space between you in the first place.

“I’ll return them back to you, soon. But that’s not what I was referring to.”

“Then, you’re grateful for… making you climb down some rusty-ass pipes?”

"No, you idiot. Thank you for coming to see me. I missed you, really, more than you think. You have no idea how close I was to just running over to you.” The emotions from having the opportunities to spend time with the boy ripped away from you must have been stronger than you thought for those words to come out of you like that. Jungwon senses this, and you feel him tighten around the frame of your body.

"Then, it’s a good thing that I ran over here first.”Jungwon gently pushes you away with a heavy heart. Moving away the few strands of hair stuck onto your cheeks that are turning a shade of rosy pink, most likely from the cold (or not).

The pace picks up again as he locates the palm of your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours,“Let's get out of here before your mom finds us." Luckily for the two of you, you manage to get away with your secret rendezvous, at least for now, and you can only pray that it stays this way.

The world beyond your little bubble beckons, but in this moment, the connection between you and Jungwon feels like the only reality that matters.

Time with Jungwon feels like a pocket universe where seconds slip away unnoticed. Before you know it, the sun slowly begins to dip beyond the horizon, ushering in the cool embrace of the evening air and casting a gentle twilight glow upon the buildings.

The Friday night air is crisp, and the streets come alive with the vibrant energy of the neighbourhood transitioning into its nocturnal rhythm. Jungwon confidently navigates through hidden shortcuts and familiar alleys, the lively sounds of people and distant music replacing the lingering heaviness from your room.

As you walk leisurely through the dimly lit streets, Jungwon animatedly shares anecdotes, laughter, and stories of incidents that unfolded in school during your absence. The glow of street lamps casts a warm ambiance, highlighting the joy in his eyes as he recounts the tales. You are not only relieved to hear that your friends are working hard, but also reassured that the council is thriving under Gunwook's leadership—a responsibility you earnestly insisted on passing down to him.

Eventually, you find yourselves at a serene bench overlooking the river. In the distance, you spot couples on little boats doing whatever couples do on little boats. The two of you sit in a contemplative silence, not awkward, but a kind of loud silence filled with unspoken words—where there is so much to say, but neither of you knows where to start.

Breaking the quietude, Jungwon eagerly rummages through his bag. Curious, you sneak a peek, and a soft giggle escapes your lips at the unconventional contents within. Instead of the expected textbooks, you see a stash of your favourite gummies and an abundance of pencils, which explains why he always has spares on hand whenever you ask for one.

You also spot your fall gloves that you had momentarily forgotten about until now. You recall leaving them with him when it got too uncomfortable for you to wear, and the memory of him playfully nagging you to put them back on, complete with a cute pout when you refused, brings a fond smile to your face.

It’s a touching realisation when you see these tangible tokens. It’s as if little bits and pieces of you and your habits are slowly finding a place in Jungwon’s life. His world, once dominated by Taekwondo, effortlessly accommodates you and the fragments of your existence, just as he seamlessly wove himself into the fabric of your life, which was once burdened with the heavy expectations of achieving stellar grades.

“People might think this is my bag that you’re carrying,” you remark, your tone playful.

"With the amount of things that are yours in here, it might as well be," Jungwon replies, laughter dancing in his warm gaze. He pulls out a hot pack, rubs it between his hands, and extends it to you—another subtle gesture that unleashes an entire zoo inside your stomach. The gentle warmth of the hot pack mirrors the blossoming warmth within as you mumble a quiet “Thank you”.

"Can't believe we'll be graduating soon; it still hasn't hit me just yet," Jungwon says, his voice carrying a tinge of absentminded reflection.

"Believe it or not, sooner or later, reality will come crashing down on you like a meteorite," you jest, attempting to lighten the sudden solemnity of the mood that has settled between you.

"Yeah, then you'll be off to a great local uni, and I'll probably get into the youth Olympics team. Who knows when our paths will cross again?" You turn to look at him, finding his gaze locked onto the calm waters of the river, though you suspect his mind must be anything but calm, straying far from the placid surface of the water.

"I thought we agreed to remain close even after the documentary? You're speaking as if we'll never see each other again," you remark, shuffling closer to him on the bench. The fluttering of your heart intensifies as the skin of your arms comes into contact with his. The connection between you, both physical and emotional, echoes the desire to linger in each other's presence despite the uncertain paths that lie ahead.

"At first, it really was a nightmare having to be around you everywhere," he confesses, leaning forward, his fingers lightly gripping the edge of the bench as he reflects. A tiny pout forms on his thinking face, and you can't help but coo at the endearing sight—a habit you discovered and cherished as you got to know him.

"I don't know if I should be finding that offensive or not," you retort and Jungwon laughs lowly, the husky tone of his voice sending subtle shivers down the back of your neck. "That's why I used 'at first,' idiot."

"But now, I guess it's not that bad to have you around sometimes," he shrugs, attempting to play it cool while ignoring the fact that his heart is pounding relentlessly against his chest.

"Only 'not that bad'? I'm disappointed," you tease, a mischievous sparkle in your eye.

The night envelops both of you in a quiet embrace, the air thick with unexpressed emotions. Jungwon's eyes, once fixed on the distant river, now meet yours. Only this time, there's a vulnerability in his gaze, a silent admission of something more complicated.

"You know," he begins, his voice softer now, carrying a weight of sincerity, "it took me a while to figure out why your presence felt like a storm at first—chaotic and unpredictable. But now, I realise it's more like the calm after the storm. The kind that leaves everything refreshed and new."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the gravity of his confession sinking in. The atmosphere seems to hold its breath, each passing moment brimming with anticipation as you almost impatiently wait for him to phrase his next words, watching the thoughts flicker across his face as he carefully composed the sentiments in his mind.

"I never expected you to become this important to me," Jungwon continues, his eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions. "But now, imagining my life without you feels like trying to picture a world without sunlight. It's just not the same."

A warm breeze rustles the leaves above, and if there were some stranger watching you right now, you probably wouldn’t even have noticed as you slowly tuned the world around you out. On the contrary, you're acutely aware of the shared space between you on the bench, the closeness that has become second nature.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is... I like having you around. A lot more than 'not that bad,'" he confesses, a shy smile playing on his lips.

Your heart swells with a rush of emotions, and you sense the urgency to respond. "Jungwon, I—" But before you can complete your response, his fingers gently find their way to yours, intertwining them in a silent gesture, as if he's saying you don't owe him anything.

But no, you do owe him everything. You owe him for coming into your mundane excuse of a life and allowing you to realise that sometimes, breaking away from routine is the first step towards discovering your own narrative.

Thus, a smile mirrors his on your face as you say, “I can’t let you say all the cool things yourself. I wanna be cool too.” Jungwon scoffs and you feel his grip on your hand tighten.

"Go on, I'd like to see you try," he challenges, a subtle glint of encouragement in his gaze, knowing you're not one to shy away.

Taking in a deep breath, you confidently look into his eyes as you say what has been on your mind. “Thank you for changing my life, and I don’t ever want to lose you, Yang Jungwon.”

As the echoes of your confession linger in the night air, both of you become aware of the tangible shift in the atmosphere—something profound has unfolded between you. The moonlight paints a soft glow on Jungwon's face, emphasising the earnestness in his eyes, as they remain locked onto yours. The touch of his fingers on yours warms up your skin, a comforting sensation that surpasses any heat pack he could ever give you.

“Okay maybe that wasn’t very cool after all… I just never thought a simple change in routine could lead to all this." You muse, your voice carrying a mixture of awe and gratitude.

"Life has a funny way of surprising us, doesn't it?" Jungwon responds with a playful twinkle in his eyes.

You nod, smiling genuinely. "And I wouldn't have it any other way."

As you sit on the bench, hands still entwined, there's a gentle pause—a moment suspended in time, as if the universe itself is waiting. The world around you, once ordinary, now feels touched by a magical essence, and the stars above seem to glitter with the promise of a future written in a language only both of you understand.

Jungwon leans in, and you can feel the beating of his heart aligning with yours, the soft warmth of his breath as he closes the gap between you. The scent of the night air, infused with a hint of his cologne, adds to the sensory symphony. His lips meet yours in a tender, unhurried motion. It’s a kiss that carries the weight of the world’s expectations on the both of you, only for it to melt away as he smiles against your lips.

Time seems to stand still as you savour the softness of the moment, the warmth of his touch resonating through every fibre of your being. As you sit there, wrapped in the warmth of his lips on yours, the world feels limitless, and the journey ahead, uncertain but exciting. And as you break apart, breathless but filled with an exhilarating warmth, that’s when you realise you have finally come to terms with and chosen to accept your emotions that are now clear to you that it is not borne alone—Yang Jungwon, who was once the bane of your existence, is now the centre of it.

tw! depiction of violence

You smile to yourself as the sweet memory of that magical first kiss plays in your mind like a cherished melody. Your hands remain interlocked with that of Jungwon’s as you walk through the same alley that you came from. The difference being the absence of the vibrant lights of the night market, which had already faded by now, leaving only the soft glow of the moon and the distant street lamps that barely bleed into the alley to guide your way. Yet, you feel safe and protected when you sense Jungwon’s presence beside you.

As you turn a corner, the alley widens, revealing a quieter stretch with fewer distractions. However, just as you start to relax, a familiar voice cuts through the tranquillity.

“Well, well, if it isn’t Y/N. Didn't think we'd run into you two lovebirds tonight. How cute.” Hana's voice, laced with envy, echoes through the alley. She steps into view, flanked by her two loyal lackeys who wear matching smirks.

However, they were not alone as you spot a few familiar faces perched up against the brick wall—they were the same group of boys known to wreak havoc among the underclassmen. You know this having seen their faces in detention multiple times when you were supervising.

You didn’t expect Hana to be hanging around them, it’s like trouble mixing around with even more trouble, a recipe for disaster.

In the dimly lit alley, tension hangs thick in the air as Hana and her lackeys close in, their predatory grins revealing a hunger for confrontation. Jungwon instinctively tightens his grip on your hand, pulling you behind him as he stands his ground, a subtle signal that he's prepared for whatever comes next.

Hana takes a step forward, her voice dripping with malice. “It’s unfortunate really. You skipped a whole week of school; I thought I finally managed to get rid of you, but alas.” Her lackeys snicker, emboldened by their leader's confidence.

You square your shoulders, determined not to let Hana's provocation rattle you. “What’s your problem, Hana?”

Hana's eyes narrow, her jealousy fuelling the fire. "My problem? It's you, Y/N. Always meddling where you don't belong."

In disbelief, you step out of Jungwon’s shadow. “You know what, fuck you. I don’t even remember ever offending you. I also had a really shitty week, and I don’t need you making it worse than it already is, so please just get the fuck out of my face.” The words fly out of your mouth before you can even comprehend, and Jungwon seems to be equally shocked, hearing you curse for the first time. The shock quickly turns into admiration as he smirks at your bold proclamation.

"We're not looking for trouble, Hana. Just let us pass," Jungwon says cautiously, not wanting to provoke Hana any further, but it only seems to rile her up even more.

Hana's frustration mounts, and she takes a step closer to you, invading your personal space. "You think you're so special, Y/N? Jungwon can do so much better than someone like you." The words sting, but you refuse to let her get under your skin. Before you can respond, one of her lackeys makes a move, attempting to grab your arm. Instinctively, Jungwon steps between you and the aggressor, blocking the advance.

Despite their attempts to provoke a reaction, Jungwon remains composed, his experience evidently shining through. The underclassmen, however, aren't as restrained. One of them lunges at Jungwon, but he swiftly sidesteps the attack, using his fast reflexes to evade without retaliating.

However, the group, instigated by their leader's resentment, launch a coordinated attack. One of them goes straight for Jungwon, aiming for his lower abdomen. Despite his fast reflexes, the underclassman manages to land a blow, catching Jungwon off guard.

A sharp pain courses through Jungwon's side as he winces, the surprise attack taking its toll. He stumbles backward, trying to maintain his composure. The underclassmen, emboldened by their success, taunts him. "Looks like your taekwondo skills don't mean much in a real fight, huh?"

You, torn between defending Jungwon and avoiding further escalation, plead with Hana. "This is unnecessary, Hana! We don't want to fight!"

Hana, however, revels in the chaos she's created. This is her way of saying that if she can’t have Jungwon, nobody can—much less lose him to the likes of you.

"You should have thought about that before getting involved with Jungwon." In truth, she never truly liked Jungwon. Just his reputation and the attention she’d get if she managed to crack the academy’s most mysterious boy. Enraged, Hana signals them to continue, escalating the confrontation.

Jungwon, though injured, refuses to retaliate recklessly; something about physical fighting one against a whole group of well-fit boys with a sport designed for self-defense doesn’t seem very smart. Instead, he focuses on defending their attacks, hands wrapped tightly over his head, as he lay cradled on the ground. His determination remains unwavering, but the odds are stacked against him.

The underclassmen, seemingly relentless, taunt Jungwon with malicious glee. "Thought you were tough, huh? Looks like you're nothing even with your precious taekwondo skills."

He shouts for you to run (as if you were about to leave him behind) but you’re forced onto your knees and held in place by her two lackeys. As the scuffle intensifies, the alley echoes with grunts and the shuffle of feet.

The chaos attracts attention, and the distant wail of approaching police sirens grows louder. The approaching alarm prompts Hana and her lackeys to scatter, disappearing into the shadows, leaving behind a battered, bruised and disoriented Jungwon.

As the police car arrives, its flashing lights casting an unsettling glow, you find yourself cradling Jungwon, who is visibly struggling.

“Please tell me you’re okay, Won.” Urgently, you call for an ambulance, realising the severity of his injuries when he could barely reply you.

The journey to the hospital is filled with a heavy silence, broken only by the wail of sirens. Jungwon, laid out on the gurney, appears vulnerable under the harsh hospital lights. His eyes meet yours, conveying gratitude and reassurance amidst the pain. As Jungwon is wheeled into a room for further evaluation, you can't help but reflect on the unexpected turn the night has taken—from stolen kisses to the harsh reality of a hospital emergency room, a scenario straight out of a drama.

The hospital transforms into a surreal space where time seems to both stretch and contract, leaving you suspended in uncertainty. Every passing minute feels like an eternity as you anxiously await any updates on Jungwon's condition.

Your friends, Jungwon’s family, and even his coach start to arrive, having informed them about his condition through Jungwon’s phone that you somehow remembered the passcode to from the last time he told you. The reunion with your friends, especially Chanelle, who runs up to engulf you in a hug, brings a fleeting moment of joy. However, the thought of Jungwon lingers, casting a shadow over the otherwise happy encounter.

Finally, a doctor emerges with updates. Jungwon's injuries are serious, though not life-threatening, requires thorough treatment and a period of recovery. Hearing the news, relief washes over you knowing he will receive the care and medicine he needs. However, your relief is short-lived as the reminder of his upcoming competition the following Saturday floods you with renewed stress.

How can he possibly compete in his current condition? The thought of him being covered in bruises, or worse, questioning if he can even participate at all, weighs heavily on your mind.

The national team coach is going to be there, and Jungwon's entire future hinges on him performing well in that godforsaken competition he worked so hard to compete in.

The unfairness of the situation becomes glaringly evident, casting a shadow over the initial relief. The stress that momentarily lifted now returns with even greater intensity, leaving you grappling with the looming uncertainty of Jungwon's athletic future, and maybe even your own.

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♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: feels like i just wrote a kdrama… as usual i cba to proofread so i apologise yall 🥲

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taglist open! @uuzhanggggggg @jayhoonvroom @en-flirt @missingemobeomgyu @jiawji @ocyeanicc @s7noo @asterizee @nwjws @noascats @yunwonie @saturnmooonxx @enhaz1 @jiaant11 @clairecottenheart @i2lain @miumiuoi @zhounauts @hoey2k @neocockthotology @nanuer @yenqa @ahnneyong @chanhee-hee @yanqiiuver @yujmelon @beomsbeanie @sloobydooburmomjungwon @keiisu @jaeyunniesimp @jiamini @jihanniee @lilriswife4life @i-yeseo

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gold-rhine · 7 months

Text

What the guard dogs are for

There are some things you never want to hear your secret years-long crush saying, such as “I’m getting married,” “I think we should stay friends” or “I’m the destroyer of the present order, the one who shall judge all gods, and the foe of humanity.” Wriothesley’s very bad, no good day of trying to unravel conspiracy theories, fumbling a tea party with Chief Justice and learning Teyvat’s ancient history and vishap lore from the leading expert lector.

Genre: angst and misinformation campaign

Characters: Neuvillette\Wriothesley, Enjou

Warnings: sfw in a sense that nothing even remotely sexy happens, but there is dissociation, ptsd episode, brief mention of self-harm, and Enjou doing same thing he does in canon, which is not quite gaslighting? Anyway, let me know if you feel any other warnings need to be added.

Chapters: 1 out of 2. Wordcount: ~8k

With his morning tea, Wriothesley riffled through the reports as usual. Nothing was marked urgent, so he started with the most boring part, - the official ones. The production numbers, coupon consumption statistics, everything is prepared for Neuvillette’s upcoming inspection, which was mostly a formality, but he would want it to go as smoothly as possible.

Reports from the surface informants. Traveler stirring up a ruckus with the research institute… Well, about time, that pit couldn’t go on forever pretending that massive explosions are just a part of science routine.

Next, creatures called “vishaps” appeared recently in Erinnyes Forest. These vishaps are apparently a lesser form of dragons, and connected to Liyue vishaps, also lizard-like creatures, though in Liyue they are aligned with geo, not hydro. Non-hostile to humans, aside from one accident. But in that one they fought back against the hunters sent by nobles to capture them as novelty pets. So the only regrettable part was that they didn’t get the nobles, only their lackeys. For shame.

Next, there are gangs with new lingo going around, which generally was a good thing to pay attention to as they usually ended up in Meropide. Wriothesley frowned, reading the lingo translations, as he suddenly felt old. “Trendy Zaytun Peach” was something he’d got called for taking it up the ass a lot in his days, but now it’s a hip and cool nickname with the youngsters.

Informal internal reports. Victims of beret society are rehabilitating fine, preparations for the wedding are underway. Good. Albert, a new guy from the shop, is sending him tea. Quite good tea at that. Obviously a bribe attempt, though he didn’t ask for anything as of yet, so it was basically free. Everything was fair in love and bribes as far as Wriothesley was concerned. You could throw everything at the feet of your beloved as to the feet of your targeted bureaucrat, and receive nothing and you would have no claim to complain. Now, the fact he wouldn’t take it into account when making decisions about their proposals, and sometimes would even consider it a negative, was a different matter altogether.

He perked up reading the last report. There was a new conspiracy, whose agenda was not very clear, as they were more careful than the others, but the gist was something against Neuvillette, so Wriothesley was tracking it for some time. It was hard to get anything concrete though, as they were pretty good at keeping a low profile, but now apparently one of the members by the name of Jacque got into the Fortress on unrelated charges, and he was reportedly not the brightest shank on the block.

Wriothesley made the arrangements.

Half an hour later, he happened to stroll by when Jacque was being beaten up by three guys in the shadowy corner.

“Hey, what’s going on here? Leave him alone!” he said, walking up to them.

“Oh yeah?”, said one of the bullies, turning to him. “Well, make me!”

They were paid double for the pretend fight. It might have been an overkill, usually Wriothesley would go for just scaring them off without combat. Especially because anyone who’s been in the Fortess for some time or had a head on their shoulders would understand that nobody would try to openly fight the Duke outside of the fight club arena. But Jacque was as fresh as they get, allegedly stupid, and it was Wriothesley’s first chance at any info in two whole months, so he decided to make it as impressive as possible.

He went as easy on the guys as he could, they theatrically threw the fight and retreated.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asked, kneeling next to the guy in the corner and putting his hand on his shoulder for emphasis.

“Yeah, yeah, I think I’m fine,” Jacque muttered, shaking his head.

“Why did they attack you?”

“They don’t want me to spread the truth...” Jacque said with heavy emphasis. “But uh, thanks for helping me out.”

“No need to thank me. I feel bad enough that honest folk like yourself get picked on in MY Fortress. That’s not how I want to run my place, so it’s only natural that I stand up for you.”

It took a moment, but finally the guy gasped.

“Your fortress? Are you… the Duke?”

At least he knew what “Duke” is.

“Yeah,” Wriothesley grinned, turning up the charm. “And allow me to get you a couple of drinks to compensate for the rude welcome you’ve received so far.”

He got them to the Coupon Cafeteria, where best meals were already arranged, and generously poured alcohol into the poor guy, listening to the story of his life and misfortunes that brought him to the Fortress, nodding empathetically. He didn’t ask about Neuvillette at all, to not spook the target, trusting that he will come to this anyway, and finally his patience was rewarded.

“You know, you’re good!” the guy said drunkenly after some time, clasping his hand on Wriothesley's shoulder, which he beared stoically, grinning with all friendliness in the world.

“You know, they say we can’t talk to you because you’re bought by that lizard, but I think you’re a good guy. You just don’t know all the facts!”

“Which are?”

The guy leaned closer to him and lowered his voice to a dramatic whisper. “Neuvillette is an evil dragon!”

Wriothesley choked on a laughter, which was way too obvious to turn into cough even for the dunce this stupid.

“No, you don't understand! Dragons were enemies of humanity that Celestia conquered. But they come back when killed! They reincarnate! He is a hydro dragon who was reborn in a human form so he could more easily trick us!”

Wriothesley blinked, remembering Neuvillette standing under the rain, and the old children’s song. “Hydro dragon, Hydro dragon, don’t cry….”

“He put our rightful archon Furina on that trial, right? No one else saw the verdict, so he pretended she was declared guilty. He forced her to abdicate and took the power for himself!”

Wriothesley realized long ago that Neuvilette, of course, was not human. It was clear to any idiot who talked to him for longer than a minute in an informal setting, not to mention a lifespan of at least five hundred years. But there were a lot of options other than “evil dragon”. There were old gods who did not receive archonhood, but instead decided to serve the archon, like Liyue’s adepti, and he always assumed Neuvillette was of the same kind. But the idea that Iudex was some kind of evil monster with a grudge against humanity was ridiculous. Especially when he showed up at the Fortress and saved the entire Fountaine and Wriothesley’s own hide from the flood.

“Really?”

“Yeah! We should restore our true archon Furina to her rightful throne!”

Furina’s insurrection? Interesting. Wouldn’t peg her for someone capable of this type of conspiracy.

“And did Furina herself give us her blessing?”

“She can’t speak publicly, as this monster threatens her.”

Hmm, inconclusive on Furina’s involvement.

He spent more time with the drunk Jacque, trying to get more details, but couldn’t get much more than unhinged ramblings on how evil the dragons are and how insidious it was for a dragon to pretend to be a human. He had to leave to prepare to Neuvillette's arrival the next day.

_____

Neuvillette stepped out of Opera Epiclese into the rain and slowed down his pace to prolong the sensation. It was a bit of what humans called guilty pleasure, as he felt guilty from inflicting rain on humans for his own pleasure. Though from his understanding, humans felt guilty because they saw this pleasure as something bad for themselves. Even if often this supposed harm made no sense to Neuvillette. Eating too much food until a human's stomach hurt was at least understandable to see as such, but he heard one of palais’ secretaries say that romance novels were her guilty pleasure. How could humans feel guilty for something as simple as reading? He stopped and asked her why she would feel guilty for reading, because melusines kept telling him that socializing with humans is very easy, you just need to ask them questions about themselves and let them talk about what they like. Well, it didn’t seem to work, as the secretary stumbled, started hyperventilating and emanated levels of panic and anxiety comparable to someone in the defendant’s chair. Sensing human emotions did not actually help Neuvillette in communicating with them, as he could not discern the reasons. He asked her if she perhaps came into possession of any cursed texts? He could generally sense the stench of corruption and there was nothing on her, but there was always a possibility that it was a curse he could not register. She panicked even more and vehemently denied. At this point he decided to give up on socializing, as it was obviously very distressing for humans, but felt obliged to tell her that if she ever did read anything she felt was cursed, to inform him. He hoped it would assuage her fear of reading. She thanked him, stuttering, and after that day avoided him at all costs.

The rain was a compromise solution in any case. Neuvillette always felt a bit strained and uncomfortable in his body, but after obtaining full dragonhood and most of the memories of past lives, the human shape felt downright stifling. He now remembered thousands of years of being something much bigger, long coils that could easily crush the spire of Opera Epiclese. Now, when he looked at his own reflection, it was hard to comprehend that this small and ridiculous frame was actually him. In addition, all of his memories and instincts called him to be submerged in water. But even with his poor understanding of humans, he realized that seeing the Iudex floating in the river would alarm humans much more than him standing under the rain. So rain was the closest solution he could get at his position.

He summoned rain instinctively, to be as close to engulfed in water as possible. It was a bit embarrassing that even humans noticed it and composed a rhyme, even if that rhyme was inaccurate. He didn’t cry, as vishaps didn’t cry at all and even his current human shaped body didn’t have tear ducts. The closest he could pinpoint to human experience, as he understood it, was being stressed and desire to be comforted, for which water was his best remedy.

And currently he was quite stressed, looking over the Fontaine laws in an attempt to revise them. The current system that treated justice as theater was clearly imperfect, which he realized long ago. But he never saw himself as authorized to change it, as humans were the responsibility of the archon and even without it, he was well aware he didn’t understand humans, so he knew it wasn’t his place to question the human justice system, to which he was only a temporary guest. But now, as fontanias became part of Teyvat after his decision, and so, a part of his responsibility as Teyvat’s god of life, even if the usurper tried to deny him, he couldn’t ignore the need for change any longer. The problem was that he did not understand humans any better, so it was very stressful to try and restructure their systems of governance.

He extended a hand, catching raindrops on his palm, when he noticed a silhouette near the elevator to the Fortress, and stopped himself from visibly controlling the weather.

Wriothesley caught his eyes and grinned, approaching him at brisk pace, umbrella over his head.

“Greetings, Monsieur.”

“Good morning, Your Grace.”

Wriothesley always somehow managed to make a “Monsieur” sound more impactful than Neuvillette could “Your Grace”, despite one being a noble title and another just a polite greeting.

“Would you like to…?” Wriothesley extended his arm with an umbrella, without actually covering Neuvillette with it. In the past, as a part of playing a role of “normal human”, Neuvillette accepted such offers, though there were not many aside from Wriothesley who dared to approach him with it. But now, as he was a full-fledged dragon, at the height of his power and influence in this land, surely he could afford to discard this role? Surely he could afford to be himself at least in this?

“No, thank you,” he said, smiling and trying to sound as cordial as possible, so that Wriothesley would not think it was a slight against him personally. “Don’t take it as offense, but I actually like being under the rain.”

The Duke smiled back, shaking his head.

“No offense taken, but why didn’t you say it last time? I felt like an idiot forcing you under an umbrella.”

“Really?” Neuvillette perked up, falling in step with the human. “You could tell that I…”

“Hated it? Yeah, for sure.”

“....prefered not to have an umbrella.”

Wriothesley let out a low, guttural bark of laughter that somehow got to the dragon despite him not being interested in humans in general.

“Not only I could tell I disturbed you, but I had to walk on the flowerbed to get to you, and then I trailed dirt in the Palais while everyone here glared at me for the audacity. Meanwhile you walked on the same dirt, but stayed pristine!”

“I’m sorry for…”

“Hey, don’t apologize. I’m just kidding, don’t worry.”

Neuvillette met the greyish blue eyes of thawed ice directly and sensed that he was truly not bothered, which didn’t make much sense. But Wriothesley was one of the very few humans who was not scared in the dragon’s presence. He was, probably, the only one who emanated only positive emotions at their meetings. Neuvillette mostly encountered negative reactions in his daily life at the trials, so he could not tell apart which positive feelings exactly that he read from Wriothesley due to the lack of exposure. But perhaps…

“I wouldn’t want you to feel unwelcome at the Palais,” Neuvillette said after a short pause.

Wriothesley grinned with a careless shrug.

“Then I will be there, even if the rest of your bureaucrats make faces. As I said, don’t worry.”

Neuvilette frowned, but didn’t see much point in pressing this further. After a confrontation with Navia, the dragon realized that his lack of understanding of humans hindered him, instead of making him truly impartial. Especially now that he was de facto in charge of the entire Fontaine government. And practice showed that only direct interaction with humans could give valuable experience, as watching from the Iudex seat did not allow him a nuanced understanding.

So perhaps, if Wriothesley was a rare human who was not scared of him, and he proved rational and trustworthy in the years they knew each other, Neuvillette could confide in his true nature and maybe ask for advice in understanding humanity?

“Perhaps staying for some tea would make up for this past offense?”

Wriothesley stumbled for a moment.

“Seriously?” He sounded as casual and ironic as usual, but the surprised burst of positive emotions from him was bright and obvious. “After all these years you finally decided to deign my humble office with your presence?”

“It’d be a completely unofficial visit, of course.”

“Sure, sure. It was never my secret plot to bribe you with a tea party, trust me, even I realize my tea is not that good.”

His voice was ironic, but for a moment Neuvillette could see his crooked grin turn into a genuine smile. So, reassured that he was not imposing, Iudex nodded and followed the human into the Fortress’ entrance.

_________

The inspection itself was mostly a formality. The Court of Fontaine technically had no direct authority over Meripode, but it provided guards and substantial resources, and so it had a right to oversee the use of these assets. The actual budgeting was done on the regular in behind the scenes reports though, as the data was not visible in the in person visit. Still, it was a time honored tradition that got Neuvilette to show up regularly.

“Take a seat. It will take me a minute to make tea.”

Neuvilette gracefully sat down on the visitor’s chair In Wriothesley office, folding his hands on the cane. He still sat with a ramrod straight back and perfect posture, but there was a certain lightness to him today, which was hard to put into words.

“The inspection is over, yet you are still nervous.”

Wriothesley knew he had a poker face good enough to cover it, yet Neuvillette saw it anyway. He had theorized for a long time that the Iudex could sense emotions, but usually he would not acknowledge it directly like this. “I wasn't nervous about the inspection to begin with. But inviting a high and mighty Iudex himself to the tea for years and then disappointing him when he finally accepts would be a devastating faux de pas. They will mock me on the first pages of all the papers tomorrow.”

Neuvillette frowned slightly.

“I must underline that I’m not here in any official capacity, and I would hope I’m talking to Wriothesley, not the Warden or the Duke. If you agree, I would ask that we leave the titles at the door.”

“No, of course,” Wriothesley, who had fantasized about leaving titles at the door and then clothes on the floor for actual years, said quickly, frantically recalculating how he could turn the tea party to wine tasting, which best wines he had confiscated in his storage and how he could make turning on the gramophone and then maybe leaning against the edge of the table in front of Neuvillette look natural and smooth. “Absolutely. I was just joking anyway, don’t mind it.”

“Ah, I see. I apologize, I’m unfortunately prone to missing humorous intent, so I appreciate your clarification.”

With how far the Iudex went out of his way to assure people of his good intentions in informal situations, Wriothesley really didn’t understand how everyone found him so intimidating. Especially because he very often had to interact with assholes in positions of power who did try to intimidate him on purpose and the contrast was very apparent. Neuvillette projected an aura of power without really wanting to, and then tried to over-explain himself to make others feel at ease. His earnest awkwardness was something like the clumsiness of a huge beast like an elephant trying not to step on the gaggle of kittens at his feet.

“In any case, there is nothing to be nervous about. After all, tea is liquid, and it’s really hard to make liquids unpleasant. So far I think only Fonta truly managed it.” Neuvillette drummed his fingers on the table and glanced at Wriothesley. “To be frank, if crimes against water could be prosecuted, Fonta would receive life in prison.”

Wriothesley snorted. “So no sugar in your tea, I take it?”

“No, thank you,” Iudex said politely and then, after a short pause, “And to clarify, I was not serious. There is nothing wrong with people liking sugary drinks, of course. I was just making an attempt at a joke.”

He really was horrendously bad at pretending to be a human. How could anyone hear him talk and still believe he’s a scheming manipulator was beyond ridiculous.

“No, I got it. It was a good joke,” The Duke grinned, placing a teacup in front of Neuvillette and sitting down across the table with his own.

Neuvillette gave him a graceful nod with a little smile and picked up his cup, giving it a swirl before tasting.

“Hmm. Interesting. Poignant. Bitter,” he said thoughtfully, tilting his head.

Wriothesley was about to mention that this sort was not usually bitter, but Iudex continued.

“Not by nature, but forced by circumstances. Not nearly enough water to be nourished, so it had to adapt and conserve strength, letting leaves seen as unimportant to die and concentrate on survival of the main branches. But there is not just hunger… there is a dream of rain. An ache of something not ever known, but yearned, longed for, without realizing what it is. But then…” Neuvillette closed his eyes for a moment. “It happened. There is a memory of luminous joy of water not gathered by mere drops, but drank in full, overwhelming, a feast after a life of fighting for scraps of morning dew. It had tasted rain at least once in the end.”

Wriothesley put his own cup down, leaning forward in disbelief.

“No way. This was a harvest from a drought year and it’s normally a mild sort, considered unusually strong in this season. How could you know this? Are you cheating?”

“You’re welcome to test me with other samples,” Neuvillette said with an air of a magnanimous ruler granting a boon and put the teacup down with a delicate clink.

“Oh, I’m taking you up on your word, trust me,” the Duke grinned, but then paused. He didn’t want to spoil the mood, but he remembered how strongly Neuvillette felt about the perceived melusines conspiracy. Wriothesley had to tell him about the evil dragon idiots just to make sure he’s not thrown off balance later. That’s what the guard dogs are for, after all.

“Actually, before we move forward with testing your psychic tea reading abilities, there is something concerning official business that I think you should know. And then we can forget it completely.”

Neuvillette inclined his head with a small smile.

“There is a small group of conspirators, - and I must reiterate, it’s very small - who operate on the ridiculous idea that… uh, that you’re some kind of an evil dragon who schemed to overthrow Furina.”

Neuvillette's smile froze.

“You don’t have to worry about it, really. It’s negligibly small, and well, anyone with a working brain would not believe that you’re a monster in disguise.”

Iudex was silent for some time, not meeting Wriothesley’s eyes.

“Are melusines implicated in this?” he said finally.

“No. No, there’s no connection to them in this stupid theory.”

“Good. That's good. They do love living with humans so much.”

Wriothesley suspected that Iudex was taking things kind of out of proportion again.

“Listen, it’s really nothing…”

“No, no, I understand. It would be so unacceptably horrifying for humans to learn their ruler is a… monster.”

Neuvillette's voice wavered, but his face was impartial, strict, previous lightness gone completely. Wriothesley saw his hands tighten their grip on the handle of his cane a moment before he abruptly stood up.

“I must apologize for impropriety, but I have important business in the Palais which was inappropriate for me to neglect for so long. I must beg your leave to depart.”

Wriothesley stood up too, scraping to understand what he did wrong.

“Wait, it’s not…”

“Thank you for your time, Your Grace.”

Wriothesley shut his mouth, the title feeling like a slap for the first time in his life. The formality and politeness somehow only made it worse. He took a deep breath and willed himself to sound calm.

“I hope you have a nice evening, Monsieur Iudex.”

Neuvillette left in what for his usual dignified pace could be considered a hurry. Wriothesley followed him without being seen, partly to make sure he doesn’t get bothered by inmates and partly on an instinct to investigate.

At the Fortress’ entrance, he watched Neuvillette walk under the rain, lifting his head upward. The blue strands of his long hair glowed and so did his coat-tails. They extended, shining brilliant bioluminescent blue, trailing behind the Chief Justice, in a moment looking like fish’s fins, then the next - as colossal snake’s coils. Sea waves crashed against the ridge without any wind, rising high, reaching to a lonely glowing figure of Iudex. With bated breath, Wriothesley watched Neuvillette extend a hand, as if catching raindrops - and rain stopped mid-flight in the air, lingering over his palm, waves frozen cresting over the earth. The raindrops gathered in a shuddering spheres, and then stretched upwards, against all laws of gravity. Wriothesley’s heart skipped a beat as Neuvillette closed his fist and the rain flew backwards to the skies.

Wriothesley stormed back into his office and frantically searched through the reports, pages flying about, until he found the one about vishaps. He looked at the photos, seeing similarities he would never look for before. The dark blue color of vishap’s hide was nearly identical to Neuvillette’s attire, but that was small beans, easily written off as coincidence. Their eyes, bright magenta with white vertical slice of a pupil, resembled Iudex, but there was room for debate, as his eyes were much paler, lilac merging into gentle blue instead of a bright pink, even as white vertical pupil was so similar. What really struck Wriothesley after all this, was actually the little blue feather at the side of the head of both vishaps and Neuvillette. It was identical and looked so… deliberate. It had to be chosen and placed precisely like this.

Still, this was not enough. He needed more evidence. He needed… he needed answers.

He walked to Jacque's block as quickly as he could without alarming inmates, but when he got to the conspirator’s room, Jacque was sleeping on the bed and a man was sitting on the chair next to him, reading a book. He looked up when Wriothesley walked in and stood up, clumsily dropping the book. He was tall and gangly, had dark hair, Inazuman features and light brown eyes behind the glasses.

“Who are you?” Wriothesley was really not in the mood for playing games.

“Well, my organization caught wind that you are interested in learning some… historical information, and our poor Jacque is really not the best source, which is why I’m here to answer any questions you have,” the man gave him a groveling smile. “You can call me Enjou.”

“Not here. In my office. Follow me.”

When they got there, Enjou whistled musingly.

“Uh, what a nice office! Must be a pretty sweet gig. I wish I had an office instead of slinking in dump ruins all the time.” He sighed theatrically. “So, I assume your main questions are on the vishap situation. I…”

“Wait,” Wriothesley said, walking up to one of his wall cabinets. “You can’t expect me to just believe you on your word.”

“Oh, of course, of course! You’re free to rough me up a bit first. Maybe a little bit of torture? But only a little bit, I’ve got a glass jaw, haha!”

Wriothesley didn’t live so long as an undisputed champion of fight club to not recognize a freak who gets off on pain. He grimaced, walking up to the table where Enjou was already trying to rifle through the papers. He stopped with an apologetic grin and put his hands up. Wriothesley put a glass vial on the table.

“Drink.”

Enjou raised his eyebrows.

“Are we dining and wining first or?...”

“It’s a truth serum,” it was a secret project of the Sumeru Akademiya, before the sages were overthrown. Dendro Archon reportedly could read the thoughts of people, and sages were trying to replicate the effect at least partially. Wriothesley came into possession of it after using his network to get the sages connected to the needed people in Fontaine institute, as Fontaine was at the cutting edge of mech technology and the sages were apparently building an artificial god. Didn’t pan out for them, but the serum worked. Wriothesley was sure of it, because he tried it on himself first.

“Oh! How exciting! How does it work? Will it perhaps burn my insides in agonizing pain if I lie?”

“Drink,” Wriothesley said through gritted teeth.

Enjou smiled and drank the vial in one shot.

“Well, nothing is burning so far, but the evening is young, haha,” he said, smacking his lips.

Wriothesley took a deep breath.

“Why are you here?”

“Huh? What do you mean? To explain the history to you, as I said.”

“Because of the goodness of your heart? What’s your agenda? Your goal?”

Enhou cleared his throat.

“Well, first of all, I do believe in uncovering and spreading so-called “forbidden” knowledge. But with your particular case can you really question my agenda? I didn’t come to you first. You were the one who sought us out. I didn’t even want to be here! I was doing my own thing without knowing about you, to be honest! But, well, I am in an organization with some unfortunate morons who thought that recruiting a convenient idiot and then sending him into underworld prison to make sure he isn’t heard is a great plan. And then when the Warden takes note of the idiot and gets him to blabber, these same morons go, Enjou, you have to get there, because you’re a vishap expert! Ugh.”

Enjou shook his head in seemingly sincere frustration.

“But um, yeah, I’m not trying to recruit you or anything. We know how you’ve disposed of House of Hearth agents and how you generally obstruct Fatui’s activity, and we just don't want you to do the same to us. Because we’re not your enemy! So I’m here to provide you with the necessary context to see that.”

Wriothesley drummed his fingers on the table.

“Okay. Start talking about Neuvilette and vishaps.”

“Well, Neuvilette is a Hydro Dragon, that should be obvious. To clarify, Hydro Dragon here means Hydro Dragon Sovereign, because technically all hydro vishaps are hydro dragons. If you didn’t know, which is understandable, as you’re more of a fighter type and not a bookworm like myself, haha, vishaps are primordial elemental creatures, original rulers of this land and mortal foes of humanity. Long before Archons, there were Dragon Sovereigns in charge of each element. Then there was a war with Celestia, specifics of which are not widely known, but we do know that Celestia won, dragons were largely eradicated and the huge chunks of powers of Sovereigns were taken from them and given to the Archons. Hydro Sovereign was killed.”

Enjou made a dramatic pause, before leaning forward with a grin. “But you see, vishaps reincarnate. Neuvillette is a Hydro Sovereign reborn in a human shape. There was actually an Inazuman prophecy about it, recorded in the Byakuyakoku Collection. That Hydro Dragon will descend in a human form, and it specifically mentions a cane. This really baffles me, to be honest. How could they predict the cane? Why does he even need a cane? Surely not because of any weakness, he’s an immortal dragon, 500 years is very young for him. And the records say when Neuvilette took his position as the Iudex some 400 years ago, he already had a cane. Was he born with it? Like, had he sprung fully formed, with a cane? Did he pick it up as, I don't know, honorary agreement with a prophecy? Or were his fashion choices actually predetermined to the degree that the prophecy knew them millenia ago?”

“Get back on track,” Wriothesley growled.

“Oh, sorry. Hmm, this serum works by forcing you to spell your thoughts out loud, yes? Well, then it’s not my fault I’m even more blabbering than usual!”

Wriothesley clasped his hands together and said slowly, carefully watching Inazuman’s reaction. “Even if he is a hydro sovereign dragon, as you say, this alone does not make him evil, as your conspiracy claims.”

Enjou fixed his glasses. He really had the hands of a bookworm, no work calluses or fighting scars. But there were spots of reddened, peeling skin that looked like burns that didn’t get to fully heal before getting burned again.

“Did you miss the “mortal foe of humanity” bit? But okay, sure. This is Fontaine after all, presumption of innocence and all that. I mean, I can’t read his thoughts to tell you under oath that he’s evil, so don’t take me to court, hehe!” Enjou grinned, clearly pleased at his own joke. “But I can tell what I know and ask some questions. My first question is why, after losing a war and presumably being killed by Celestia, would an ancient dragon god want to serve a servant of Celestia? The Archon, who rules with what is actually his own power? Unless he had some sort of agenda, perhaps? And come to think of it, why would Hydro Archon put a mortal foe of humanity into a position of such institutional power?”

“Are you implying Neuvilette forced Furina to give him the position of Iudex?”

“Well, I wasn’t here!” Enjou raised his hands defensively. “But why else would he become the Iudex?”

“There are higher beings and gods serving archons in other nations. Like Liyue adepti serving Rex Lapis.”

“Morax was known as the prime of the adepti. None of them could compare with him at strength. Same with yokai and Baal in Inazuma, she was the strongest by far. It’s natural that they would accept servitude. But here…” Enjou glanced at Wriothesley with a sly smile. “If you had to make a bet on a direct fight between Neuvillette and Furina, who would you bet on? Come on, I know tales that her own court would not listen to her until the Iudex tapped his cane.”

Wriothesley couldn’t really argue with this. When the Primordial Sea started breaking out, he himself sent for Neuvillette and didn’t even think to ask the actual Archon.

“In that case, why didn’t he just kill her immediately? Why would he play the judge?”

“Well, you see, he would not get his power back from just killing her. It would just pass to the next Archon. No, the Hydro Archon had to destroy her own throne. And running out the ruler requires a long game, as you know very well yourself, You Grace.”

Wriothesley kept a calm face, but something must have given him away, as Enjou grinned predatorily.

“Next set of facts and questions. You know of the infamous Archon trial, of course? When it was revealed that fontanian people are actually oceanids, given human shape by the previous hydro archon, Egeria? And the prophecy of the flood works because Primordial Sea waters dissolve fontanians into their oceanid forms. Well, the flood actually came. Why were fontanians not dissolved?”

“I’m sure you’ll tell me that.”

“Hehe, yes. It was because Neuvillette turned them into real humans with his powers of Hydro Sovereign. How generous of him, yeah? The question is, why did it take him so long? It’s been 500 years, and yet fontanians were made human only minutes before the flood.”

Despite a feeble bookworm posturing, there was a shadow of unhinged madness in his eyes, dangerous enough that in any other case Wriothesley would cut contact. But the stakes were too high right now. He needed to get all the information he could out of this lunatic.

“You might also remember that on the same trial it was proven that Furina is not a Hydro Archon. And I can tell you that the actual Archon, Focalors, was in the Oracle machine the whole time. Sorry, I’m not even trying to pronounce that full name, haha!”

The urge to punch this bastard was overwhelming, but Wriothesley kept himself in check, mostly because he could tell he was being baited into it and he didn’t want to give the piece of shit the satisfaction.

“Anyway, Neuvilette had an audience with her right after a trial, and as result she killed herself and gave him power back. You see, Hydro Archon doesn’t have the ability to turn oceanids into real humans. All of you were just… things, playing at being humans,” Enjou said with a smirk that looked more fascinated than mocking. “But Hydro Sovereign, the original god of life, does have the power to do so. And he also, conveniently, has control over the Primordial Sea, which you, Your Grace, already know as he stopped the flood in your own Fortress.”

Wriothesley raised an eyebrow and Enjou smiled with a shrug.

“Again, I was not there! But I do know Hydro Sovereign controls the Primordial Sea, and that there is an entrance to the Sea in the Meripode Fortress. I also know that there was some emergency in the Fortress, where inmates were told to run as close to the surface as possible, and then Monsieur Iudex visited and the disaster was somehow avoided.”

Wriothesley frowned.

“If he was really a mortal enemy of humanity, why wouldn’t he just let the gates of Meripode break and the flood happen right there and then? We would all be gone and he wouldn’t need to lift a finger. Instead he ran to help when I… when the Fortress called.”

“And what would that achieve? He still wouldn’t get his power back,” Enjou shrugged dismissively and then smiled, almost wistfully.

“No, you know what I would do if *I* was the Hydro Sovereign with an ability to take human form? And if the Archon who held my power hostage was relatively weak AND had the prophecy involving a flood of the Sea I control? Well, I’d infiltrate human society, take a position of high authority and make sure the humans not only see me as the personification of law and justice, but also respect me more than their own Archon. And when the prophecy deadline is coming up, I’d make sure I have people loyal to me in some key positions. Such as Royal Duelist… and the Warden of the Fortress.”

“He didn’t make me the Warden,” Wriothesley gritted out.

“No, but he did make you the Duke, didn’t he?” Enjou smirked with a wink. “Our sources say the Court was not thrilled to give the highest noble title to you. And if the Iudex did not throw his own weight behind it, it would have never come to pass. How generous of him.”

It was true, Wriothesley’s own informants reported that the Court loathed to give him a title, let alone as high as the Duke. Neuvillette was the only one who fought for him and fought hard, because usually Iudex’s one word was enough to make a decision, but here the stalemate lasted for two months. They wanted to compromise and give him the viscount, but Iudex wouldn’t budge, so in the end, they caved.

Wriothesley never asked Neuvillette for the title. Neuvillette never mentioned what he did for the Warden and never dropped anything even as close as a hint of asking anything in return.

Unless you see it as a part of centuries long game, where mundane favors didn’t matter, but being called first to the access of the Primordial Sea did.

“Ah, you’re starting to get it, don’t you?” Enjou sensed blood in the water, like a proper shark would. “Then I would orchestrate a public court hearing to absolutely discredit the current ruler and corner the actual Archon. And when Focalors is forced to talk to me…. I would make a bargain. Saving the lives of all fontanians in exchange of getting my full power back and Focalors dying. Isn't it ironic that the dragon playing human was the one to turn human-shaped water things into actual humans?"

Enjou leaned back against his chair, grinning with satisfaction.

“And then I’d have an entire country loyal to me as a ruler, which would make a great foothold to use for attacking Celestia.”

Wriothesley took a deep breath.

“You really expect me to take you on your word? You might believe it yourself, which will pass the truth serum, but the word of a lunatic is not evidence.”

“Oh, of course not! I would never expect you to take my lowly word for it. Instead, why don’t you take Monsieur Iudex’s word?”

Enjou made a dramatic gesture of spilling a heap of conches onto the table. Wriothesley raised his eyebrows, when the other man poked one of them awkwardly.

“Now that I have reclaimed one of the Seven Authorities from the hands of the usurpers, I have regained my true form,” a calm voice that was undoubtedly Neuvillette, said out of nowhere. “I am now a fully fledged dragon, powerful enough to judge the rest of the gods. My final destiny is to judge the Usurper-King in the heavens above.”

“This could be faked,” Wriothesley said automatically, just to argue, but his heart already fell.

“You wound me! These are his words, and I spent an entire night fishing them out for you, I’ll have you know. It’s quite hard to capture this. You’re welcome to listen to all of them and see for yourself.”

Almost against his will, Wriothesley reached out and touched one of the conches.

“…I shall fulfill my vow to judge all of The Seven in turn, even if the sky should fall and the ground give way.”

Wriothesley took an abrupt breath through his teeth. Enjou sighed and stood up.

“I think it’s better for you to listen to this alone. After, you’re welcome to reach out to us, but please don’t make any hasty decisions. I’ll see you soon, Your Grace!”

Enjou walked down the stairs, and by the time Wriothesley got to them, there was no one there. The Duke couldn’t bring himself to focus on that though. Instead, he walked up to one of the wall cabinets and took out a bottle of whiskey he was saving up as a possible gift.

He didn’t bother with the glass. He fell down into the chair in front of the conches and clenched his fingers on the bottle, icy veins springing up from under them. He took a sip and touched another conch.

“…my grievances with the usurpers have yet to be settled... They owe a debt of blood that shall not be forgotten.”

He drank, staring blindly into the distance, and listened, and the quiet words burned worse than whiskey sliding down his throat. He caught himself on a familiar thought. “This can’t be happening. This is too monstrous.” The same feverish thoughts he had when he discovered the truth about his foster parents.

As if by now he shouldn’t have learned that nothing is too monstrous in this world.

“As a survivor of the dragon race who has regained my full dragonhood, I must fulfill my oath and obligations even if it means returning all the water in the oceans back to the heavens.”

It really did sound exactly like Neuvillette. Wriothesley tried to find the lie, something that sounded fake, but not only the voice, but the cadence and word choice fit. And it sounded calm, impartial as usual too. And then there were hydro vishaps appearing in Erinnyes…

Fuck, was it really that easy to fool him? Was he really this big of a fool? He learned to distrust sweet words and warm smiles, and he was so sure that he wouldn’t get caught in the same lies ever again, even if he sacrificed his ability to love for this. But all it took was a seeming opposite, direct and harsh, too cold and intimidating to appear manipulative, but endearingly awkward just sometimes, just enough to make him believe that… That there was something true and clear in this rotten world. That he could trust in *someone*.

“Nothing will stop me from rendering judgment on each of The Seven.”

He went through all of the recordings, frantically at first, wanting to find contradictions, then, when none were found, numbly re-listening to the few that hit the worst.

“…also the destroyer of the present order, the one who shall judge all gods, and the foe of humanity. “

Wasn’t it too obvious in hindsight? Why would the Iudex stake his own reputation on Wriothesley’s title? How could you not see it coming? Oh, because you thought you “deserve” it for turning this dog-fighting pit of a prison into something with a modicum of fairness? Because you thought he recognized your redemption? Gods, what are you, fucking fourteen again, did you learn nothing, why would anyone ever care about you, you naive goddamn idiot?

Soon, the bottle was somehow almost done. At this point he was running one recording on repeat, mindless and purposeless except for repeating slashes of pain, familiar rhythm like the knife on his wrists years ago.

"Hydro Dragon, Hydro Dragon, don't cry." Whoever had penned that rhyme, as well as the Fontainians who came to believe in it, must not have known the Hydro Dragon all that well, considering that they thought the Hydro Dragon could cry. What did they take said Dragon for, some sort of bleeding heart who grieved for humans and the heavens alike?”

If this was true… If this was true, then Wriothesley didn’t just get fooled himself. Then he helped a monster take control of the country and potentially use it in war against heavens.

He clenched his hand and it took him a moment to realize he broke the bottle he was holding in it. That pain from glass pieces in his palm felt small and distant now. But at last, it spurned him into action.

If this was true, he only had one shot. He’d already told Neuvillette of the dragon conspiracy, like a good little idiot eager to please. And any tyrant worth his salt would make sure to take him out after his, especially now that he outlived his purpose in giving access to Meripode vaults. He might have some time because of how oblivious he was, dismissing the conspiracy openly, but it couldn’t be long.

He couldn’t take his time. He couldn’t hope for the better. He had to act like it’s the worst option possible. More than anything, he needed to confront Neuvillette, dragon Sovereign or not. He had to fix this, no matter the cost.

He realized he needed leverage. Brute strength was out of the question. Even before the flood, Neuvillette absolutely destroyed Fatui Harbinger in one flash, quicker than anyone in the audience could see what happened. Wriothesley would put himself against Harbringer with no hesitation, but he wasn’t an idiot. If this was how powerful Iudex was before, then after allegedly gaining his full power, there was no way Wriothesley could threaten him. No, he needed something else.

He took out the paper and wrote a note, taking care to not stain it with blood. Fortunately, he held the bottle in his left hand, so he could keep it out of the way.

“....and so confess that I, Wriothesley, Warden of the Fortress of Meripode, killed Chief Justice, Iudex Neuvillette.”

He finished the note and carefully put in his signature, then folded the paper into an envelope and closed it with his personal seal. Then he walked up to a safe, one of the hidden ones, and punched in a code. When the safe opened, he rummaged in it for a moment, until finally taking out two vials.

This was sold to him as the poison that could kill a god.

#rhine writes #rhine writes light #neuvillette #wriothesley #wriolette #genshin impact #enjou #i had a lot of fun with enjou here #anyway let me know what you guys think

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