#before that conversation i had a full-blown CRISIS

[miya-rin]

here are some small suna boyfriend headcanons

cannot whistle, like at all, so he snaps his fingers in place of a wolf whistle, it started off as a joke but it became habit and now he cant stop

he stutters when he shows alot of emotion, so you have multiple videos of him arguing with his siblings but not being able to get his point across cause he keeps having to restart :(( hes so cute i hate him

he pulls your bra strap (if you wear one) so that it snaps against your shoulder and will not stop no matter how much you tell him to

you have a designated self care night once a week which consists of baking brownies, doing skincare on each other and you beating his ass at mario kart

HATES wearing socks, you have had to pin him down multiple times to make him wear them

100% a sleeptalker, and it changes depending on the day, he could be mumbling random words to having full blown conversations and crisis’ about stuff that had never happened, you’ve brought it up before and he swore up and down it has never happened

sooo clingy, when you guys are sleeping he has to be touching you in some way, you have woken up like this so many times you have lost count

will not can not do your hair, he loves to play with it but for the life of him can not figure out how to do it, you have caught him watching tutorials but he can never get his head around it :((

he sneezes SOO loud, you left the house to go to the shops and you got halfway down the road and heard him sneeze

he does this little thing where he hides your stuff on the top of his door frame when you come over, and when youre about to go he makes you do a little questionnaire on your favourite thing about the day you spent with him, if he likes your answers you can have them back, if not you have to spend more time with him until he is satisfied he doesn’t have to know you always see him hiding the stuff

100% the type of guy to tighten jars when you’re mad at him

has a highlight on his instagram of you, and its all really cutesy photos that his friends make fun of him for having

will buy you stuff that reminds you of him, it could be something you have never brought up before but he will get it if he thinks you would like it

has like 15 pillows on his bed, and you dont know why because he neVER USES ANY OF THEM

all of my haikyuu boyfriend headcanons

[saltygilmores]

THOUGHTS WHILE WATCHING GILMORE GIRLS-SEASON 3, EPISODE 1: LAZY HAZY CRAZY DAYS (PART 5)

Faces of Fear. Bozo got an early flight home, bringing with him an immovable stench cloud that is hanging over the day's festivi-titties. The city of Chicago is letting out a sigh of relief, though. In the middle of her crisis, Lorelai immediately abandons Rory, who is shaking in Dean's presence like a flu-stricken chihuaua. But not before reminding Dean how much she's missed him.

I heard there's a vacancy at the Shane and Jess Tree now, why don't you two make a reservation?

What the what! They're still going, in the same spot, completely uninterrupted! The Foreplay King and Queen! I am not worthy! Have they been making out in public so frequently that they just blend in with the scenery and hundreds of people walk right past them without even glancing? They've fused with the FuckTree. The 69 Pine. Witnessing this peep show, Rory experiences an instantaenous full blown sexual awakening so seismic the earth threatens to crack open beneath her. At FND, Emily and Richard take the news of the Lor & Crusty breakup just as well as anyone would have expected, which is to say, Not Well. When Lorelai returns home...presumably after 8 pm,as it's pitch black outside but the summer festival is still underway, somehow, with hundreds of people roaming the streets. The Barbershop Quartet is still singing "Lazy Hazy Crazy Days" into the night sky, creating an eerie scene. This is like something out of the Twilight Zone. The festivals never end, Taylor Doose in his never ending quest for power and money is forcing the citizens of The Hollow to listen to the same song (actually, more like two lines from the same song) on a loop until they go mad, forced to sell corn dogs and cotton candy until they drop dead, while Shane and Jess are still making out against the Poke Oak.

Again, the last few episodes have been making me feel like something was missing, then I remember Luke still exists. Hi Luke! Why don't you put a light on or something, why are you working in the dark?

Looks like someone decided to put on her big girl panties and be brave. With Lorelai breaking in and Jess always escaping it seems like Luke doesn't know what a lock is. Lorelai states she isn't there to beg for forgiveness or have a conversation with him or to talk to him or interact with him in any whatsoever, but she had a bad night so she wants him to make her coffee. DIdn't you hear the man? He's closeddddd.

When Luke won't budge, Lorelai asks him to just pretend she's some other random customer she made up called Mimi, as if it's in any way possible for Luke to imagine this ridiculous woman as someone else. There's no way these two have ever successfully engaged in role play. I guess he could pretend she's Kirk, both of them take up space for hours at his establishment and don't tip and make him want to lay down face first on the grill with his hand in the deep fryer. Luke won't assist her, so Lorelai helps herself to a pot of tepid coffee, sits down at his counter and starts crying about all the fucky guys she's dated in the last two years.

"Crusty's gonna have a baby with this woman" True "He's gonna be there for her when she's pregnant" False "He's gonna be there with her to see his child grow up" False "He's gonna be there for her while she does whatever it is she does." You mean be super duper creepy? #CreepySherry

Am I supposed to feel sorry for you or something? Go cry to Dean Forrester.

You got a LONG wait ahead of you, sister.

Wah wah wah. I want a Tyrannosaurus to storm the streets of The Hollow and swallow your boyfriend Dean Forrester, then I want the t-rex to spit him out so he can be eaten a second time by another t-rex, but we can't always get everything we want, right Lorelai?

Here. Have a 14 hour old donut to ease your pain and hopefully make you go home.

Me, Outloud (Very Animated): What the what, she was about to pay you for the first time ever and you stopped her?! A flipped script, but that's more or less the same reaction I have during A Year in the Life when Jess offers Rory money. “Why aren’t you taking her money” vs “why are you giving her money”

Is she gone? Lorelai returns home to find Rory in the living room. It makes me verrrry nervous when Lorelai and Rory meet on the couch at the end of an episode. Shit always goes down on that couch. It's the Scary Couch. The couch where Lorelai imparts horrible wisdom. It turns out my intuition would be correct in this instance. So horribly, horribly correct. Lorelai apologizes to Rory for reacting in the town square earlier, even though for once in her life Lorelai was actually the reasonable one who was totally in the right about Rory's behavior being slimy, and even if Lorelai is a hypcorite of the highest magnitude to try and impart on her child that you shouldn't mess around, cheat and play games. We can throw her a sprinkling of "Do as I say not as I do" points as long as she doesn't fuck it up in the last two minutes of the episode.... Hahahahaha. Ha? LORELAI GILMORE GO 15 SECONDS WITHOUT MENTIONING DEAN FORRESTER CHALLENGE. GO! Lorelai plops down on the couch with 2:58 left in the episode. *starts timer*

2 minutes and 43 seconds left. From sit-down to How's Dean was 15 seconds, she then asks "How was Dean" three more times. That fucking couch! Oh, and of course, after she took off and abandoned Rory earlier when Dean approached, Lorelai has yet to ask Rory how she's feeling.

Yay.

Unfortunately, yes. I called the T-Rex to eat Dean but she's booked to the gills, like, you really gotta know someone to get her to show up in your sleepy Connecticut town. 17 seconds from the last Dean mention to the next.

Oh..honey....

It's crazy NOW? No one tell her what a Three Ring FuckCircus the Jess Thing is going to turn into. She has to find out on her own. It's the only way she'll learn.

She says "I love Dean" with as much conviction as someone saying "Yes, I love walking around in wet socks."

But..ya kinda do, miss "just because you and Rory broke up doesn't mean we did, Dean." Lucky for you your daughter is a pathological people pleaser who won't dare to upset you or Dean, So you can rest easy knowing your precious Dean won't be going anywhere, for like, another 7 episodes.

He deserves to have his nuts crushed by a wooly mammoth.

You know what *deep breath* I'll choose to hear "In this alternate timeline, the HPV vaccination has already been invented in 2002 and I'm going to take you to the gynecologist to get it because I want you to be safe in case you one day decide you want to have sex with Jess" instead of unleashing Double T Rex's on Lorelai.

[sequinsmile-x]

BESTIE I’M SO PROUD OF YOU! Contgrats to your 500 followers and thank you for all you do for us Hotchniss shippers💛💛

I’d like to request: Kisses #33: hushed conversation in-between kisses

(Go ahead and make me feel things, I’m here for it!)

THANK YOU <3

And to repay you for your kind words...I've written nearly 3k words of sadness.

You're welcome xoxo

(yes another one became a full blown fic. I am who I am)

-x-

Sanctuary

She didn't understand it. How could she miss something that she never knew she had this much?

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: Major themes of miscarriage/pregnancy loss

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily wakes up quickly. Torn from sleep by something unknown, dazed and slightly confused as she shakes her head to rid herself of the last tendrils of sleep. She checks the alarm clock on her nightstand and sees it’s 2 am, rolling her eyes as she rubs at them. She sits up, hoping a quick trip to the bathroom will rest her brain and therefore allow her to sleep. 

A sharp pain rolls through her abdomen, making her gasp as she presses her hand to her lower belly. It hurts, her body almost vibrating with it, it barely fades, the pain rolling through her in a way that felt distantly familiar. 

“Em?” 

She curses under her breath at the sound of Aaron’s sleepy voice, the light on his nightstand switching on not even a second later. He’d always been a light sleeper, a side effect of their job and what he’d been through, so he’d probably been awake ever since she had. 

“I’m ok,” she says, not sure she believes herself, the strain in her voice clear, “I think I’m sick or something my…” she groans as the pain briefly gets worse, “My stomach really hurts.” 

He sits up behind her, the mattress shifting as he moves, and he presses a hand to her shoulder. 

“Do you need help to the bathroom?” He asks, kindness to his voice that makes her cheeks burn. She wants to say no, wants to make it there herself, but she’s not sure she can. He’d seen her in worse states she reasons to herself. He’d picked up the pieces after she got way too drunk at a girl's night shortly after they’d moved in together a year ago. 

“Yes,” she says, nodding sharply, “I do.” He stands without further comment, turning the main light on as he does, and he walks round to her side of the bed. She pulls the bedding off from over her lap and he freezes on the spot, his eyes fixed on her with a tinge of horror shining in them. “Em…” 

“What?” She looks down, following his gaze to her lap, and she gasps. She’d bled through her sweatpants and she could see there was also some blood on the mattress below her. It was enough to make alarm rise in her chest.  She swallows thickly, “Wh…what?” She repeats before she looks back up at him as if he had the answers. 

“Ok,” he says, springing into action, his Hotch mask slipping into place as it so often did when there was a crisis. He kisses the top of her head before reaching for her phone because it was closer than his, typing in the passcode before he opens up the contacts, “I’m going to call Jessica, then we’re going to get you changed and to the hospital.” 

“Aaron that-”

“It’s not up for debate,” he says, already pressing Jess’s name in Emily’s phone, “Something is clearly wrong, sweetheart.” 

“It’s probably just my period,” She says, trying to dismiss it, to minimise both of their concerns, “It’s a bit late so…” She drifts off, the realisation hitting her just as quickly as the pain had. She’d felt this pain before, the familiarity of it showing its true face to her as she does the math in her head. She looks back at Aaron and sees how he dials Jess’s number again, clearly having reached her voicemail the first time, “Aaron? I…” she presses her hand into her belly as the cramp rolls through her again, “I think I might be having a miscarriage.” 

His eyes widen in a way that would be comical in any other circumstances, “What?” He asks, “But you aren’t pregnant.”

“I…I think I might be. Or at least,” she clears her throat, pushing down the preemptive sorrow that she doesn’t want to feel, “Or at least I was,” she blows out a breath that seems to catch on every rib on the way out, shuddering as it leaves her, “It feels like…” she pauses to wince, her face screwed up, “It feels like when I was in Rome. After the....” 

She drifts off again, but she knows she doesn’t have to say anything else, that she doesn’t have to explain any further as he closes his eyes, the realisation hitting him too. She’d told him about it when they first got together. Pieces finally fallinginto place for him that had been missing ever since the case when she had acted so differently from her usual self. Another thing this woman he loved had gone through. Another piece of proof of her unyielding strength. 

Any reply he might have is cut off as the phone finally connects to Jess, her sleepy voice coming down the line.

“Jess, I’m so sorry to call at this time of day.” 

He reaches out and grabs Emily’s hand as he explains the situation to Jess, and she can hear the muffled sounds of the other woman rushing around her home on the other end. 

If love would be enough to help, Emily knew she had it in abundance. 

___

It feels like days, not a matter of hours, have passed when she’s next in their bedroom. She feels dazed, like she’s watching everything around her happening from behind a glass wall. 

“Sweetheart?” 

She turns to look at Aaron, unmistakable sadness on his face that she can hardly bear to look at, something she refused to call guilt gnawing at her insides. Her eyes flick to his hand, to the bag he’s carrying full of medication that he’d listened to the instructions for, and medical grade sanitary towels that the kind nurse had given them because of the time of day it was when Emily was discharged. Aaron said he’d go out later to get more, and it makes her stomach turn.

She’d bought the same ones for JJ when she’d just had Henry. 

“Do you need anything?” He asks, a desperate look in his eyes that tells her he would do anything to help her. That he’d go right across town to the tiny bakery she liked the pastries from and camp outside until they opened if it made her feel even the tiniest bit better. 

“I think I just need to sleep,” she says, turning towards the bed and finally looking at it. They hadn’t made it before they left, the sheets and comforter thrown all over the place, the blood she’d lost still standing out against the sheets. A physical manifestation of the panic that tinged the air. 

The bed looked different now. Pulled together neatly like it was in a hotel, bedding she recognised from the closet that she’d washed and put away only that week.

“Jess said she changed the bed,” he explains, his gaze burning into the back of her head, “She said she didn’t want you to-”

“I’ll have to remember to thank her,” she says, cutting him off, polite in a way that makes her sound a little too much like her mother. She walks over to her side of the bed. She was still in pain, her body aching in a way she had forgotten it could. She sits on the edge of the bed and looks at him over her shoulder, “I really do think I just need some sleep.” 

“Ok, I’ll-”

“Alone,” she says, not missing the brief hurt that flashes across his face. “Please.”

It’s a silent standoff for a moment, and she sees the war raging within him. How he is figuring out how to handle this, how to help. He eventually nods sharply, putting the bag of her supplies down on a chair they keep in the corner before retreating to the door.

“Ok, whatever you need, sweetheart,” he says “If you need me-”

“I know,” she cuts over him again, sure if he’s too kind to her that she’ll break, “I know.” 

He nods at her, his lips set in a firm line, before he walks out of the room, the click of the door closing the last sound before she’s plunged into silence. She lays down and curls around her pillow, holding it to her abdomen as if it would ease the ache. 

She finally lets herself cry, everything she’d felt since she had first woken up spilling free. 

___

At first, the knock on the door frustrates her. She pulls the bedding tighter around herself, curling into a ball under it as if she could disappear. She opens her mouth to tell whoever it was, Aaron, to go away, that she wanted to be alone, but she’s cut off by a small voice. 

“Emily?” 

She closes her eyes, screwing them shut tightly as if that alone would stop the seemingly never-ending tears from leaking onto her cheeks. She pulls the bedding back just enough to reveal her face, and she turns towards the door. 

“Hi Jack,” she says, grateful that her voice is relatively even. Gravelly from misuse, but not stuffed full of the sadness she couldn’t shake off, “Are you ok?” 

He hesitates by the door, scratching at the back of his head in a way that he had picked up from Aaron. A tell from both her Hotchner boys that always gave away when they were nervous. He looks back over his shoulder, as if he’s being followed, and then back at her. 

“Daddy said I should leave you alone.” 

It makes her ache, the pain in her chest twisting even tighter. A knot she was sure she’d never be able to undo. Forever tied together around her heart, equal parts grief and love mixing into something she couldn’t name. 

She finds herself briefly furious at her fiancee. The thought that he felt as if he needed to protect her from something, from his son, lighting a fire in her belly. It is extinguished almost as soon as it is lit, sorrow that seemed to be in her very veins a dampener to any other feeling. 

“Come over here, honey,” she pushes the bedding back and holds out a hand to him, a strange defiance against the man she loves that she can’t explain. Jack doesn’t need asking twice. He’s across the room in a second, under the covers and laying on his father's side of the bed. He lays his head on Aaron’s pillow and looks at her, his brows furrowing slightly. 

Emily doesn’t think he’s ever looked more like Aaron. The crease in between his brows. The serious look on his face. The way his jaw was tight.

The concern that shone through the eyes Emily knows he got from his mother. 

“You’re sad?” He asks, reaching out and touching her cheek, his hand meeting the sticky residue left behind by her tears.

“Yes, Jack,” she replies, reaching over and pushing his hair off of his face, idly thinking about how he was well overdue for a haircut, “I’m sad.” 

She hopes he doesn’t ask why, or at least that Aaron has already given him an age-appropriate explanation of what had happened. She doesn’t have it in her to explain it to him, to try and help him make sense of something she didn’t understand herself. 

“Can I help?” He asks, and it feels like a knife to the chest. The look on his face letting her know if he could, he would make her feel better. Yet another thing he had inherited from his father. 

“Oh sweet boy,” she says, pulling him in for a hug that helps her feel grounded but also stops him from seeing the fresh tears spilling out of her lash line, “You do help,” she kisses the side of his head, “You always help.” 

Aaron finds them twenty minutes later, both fast asleep on Emily’s side of the bed and snuggled up. He pulls the door closed, and feels a flash of jealousy that he hates himself for that she’ll let Jack in, but not him. 

___

She feels the bed dip behind her as Aaron joins her. He’d made her eat dinner, a simple meal that he’d put in her hands before he left her to it, the now empty plate on her nightstand. 

He’d spent the day loving her from a distance, giving her the space she’d asked for, the space she needed.

Now, she needed him. 

“I’m sorry,” she says eventually, her voice quiet but loud in the otherwise silent room. 

“What for?” He asks, matching her tone. She rolls over to look at him, laying on her side as her eyes meet his. She shrugs, her lips set in a firm line as her eyes shine with tears. He shifts so he’s laying on his side facing her, he feels his arms twitch to reach out for her, to pull her into his embrace, but he stops himself, not wanting to do anything that would make her shut down again.

“For pushing you away all day,” she explains, her chin trembling, “For the miscarriage. I…I didn’t know.” 

It was the thought that kept playing on a loop in her head. She hadn’t even known she was pregnant. Something she seemingly gained the second she was already losing it, a pain in her chest that seemed to match the cramps in her belly. The grief came as a surprise, her world fuzzy ever since the doctor confirmed her fears in the ER. Everything seemed blurred, out of focus. A ringing in her ears that made it feel like she was underwater, everything too far away to reach out for. 

Except for Aaron. He was always within reach. 

“Oh sweetheart,” he says, finally reaching for her and pulling her into his arms. She goes willingly, curling into his embrace as she buries her face into his shoulder, his t-shirt immediately dampened by her tears, “You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing.” 

He rubs his hand up and down her back, aware of his own tears slipping down his face, dropping onto the top of her head. Her pain had always been his Achilles heel, the thing that could threaten to tear him apart. Leaving him unravelled, knowing he’d do anything to make her feel better.

He couldn’t fix this. He couldn’t make it better for her, for them, but he could love her. Something that came to him as easily as breathing.

“I don’t understand why it hurts so much,” she says, pulling back to look at him, waving off his concern as he goes to reach for the painkillers for her on his nightstand, “Not the actual pain,” she adds, “I didn’t know I was pregnant, Aaron,” she says again, shaking her head at herself as she sobs, “I had no idea. So why does it hurt this much? I feel so…empty.” 

Aaron places his palm on her cheek and kisses her forehead, then her nose, and then her lips. A delicate thing that he hopes gets across everything he doesn’t have the words for. 

“It’s ok to be sad, Emily. I’m sad too. We lost something today,” He says, his voice barely above a whisper, still matching the tone she’d set when she started the conversation. 

She smiles at him, her lower lip trembling as she cups his neck, her thumb rubbing at his jawline. She shifts so they are sharing his pillow, curled around each other like a vine as she kisses him softly. 

“Something we didn’t know we had,” she replies, resting her forehead against his. “I know we hadn’t really started trying yet,” she says, her smile wavering, “But if it had happened…it would have been nice.” 

Aaron feels his heart clench in his chest, a vice tight around it, grief that he couldn’t have anticipated only 24 hours ago threatening to suffocate him. “It would have been amazing.”

She stamps another kiss on his lips before she rests her head on his chest, curling into him again. 

“When this all hurts a tiny bit less,” she says, her voice shaking, “Can we talk about it? Having a baby I mean.”

She knew their time was limited. That her age and the damage her body had been subjected to over the years could made it difficult, but she wanted this with him. She hadn’t realised quite how much she did want it until it was snatched away from her. 

He holds her impossibly closer, his arms banding tight around her, “Of course sweetheart,” he replies, his lips against her hairline, “Of course we can.” 

He can’t think of anything he’d rather do more. The thought of marrying her, of raising Jack and a kid that was half him and half her with her, enough to ease some of the pain in his chest. The promise of a future a bright spark in the distance. 

He cups the back of her head to hold her in place, his hand running up and down her back in a pattern he hopes will lull her to sleep.

“What do you need, sweetheart?” He asks, “I’ll do anything.” 

She smiles, the first real one all day, and hides it deep in his t-shirt, the press of it against his chest. She knows he means it. That he’d pluck the moon from the sky if she asked him to. Or get out of bed and drive to Mcdonald's and flash his badge until they served him breakfast despite it being the evening. He’d change this for her if he could, just like he would with anything that had ever hurt her. She knows she doesn’t need any of that. 

“You,” she replies, sinking further into him, “This.” 

“I’m right here,” he promises, kissing the top of her head, “I’m here.” 

He always would be. 

-x-

Tag list:

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[lowcalheavyweight]

Tw: vent, personal meanspo? (Seriously these thoughts don't apply to anyone else, I don't think any other people have measurable worth, i love you)

They won't care

They will never care and they have never cared, even when they thought you were sick.

You tried kindness and sincerity

They didn't like you

You tried being smart and helpful

They didn't want to talk to you

You tried making yourself interesting with hobbies and style

They didn't want to be your friends

You tried dressing pretty&sexy

They didn't care about you

Now you are trying being petite and fragile

They won't attempt to reach out to you

"You are too intimidating," "You're self-sufficient," "Independent,"

Wha-I'M LONELY.

TO THE POINT I'M STRUGGLING TO FUNCTION

I will beg for scraps of your friendship that you deny me for these excuses

My attemps to bond and reach out have left me with anxiety so crippling I can't talk to people without being convinced they hate me

I'm obsessing about my worth as a human being, desperately holding onto my "worthy" parts and crisis panicing when I accidentally got a burnscar cause that means my stock value just went down, right?

I use my body as a barganing chip and I'm too scared to do what i want with it cause my "possible worth" will be higher if I'm still able to become anything they want me to be, for the person who finally picks me up

My brain tells me I will be worthier if I lose more weight

My brain tells me they will just contine to look past you

I'm already on 24/7 sale, they will never pick you up

Never choose you

I've been reflecting on the past recently (can you tell?!??haha) and remembered middle school.

I was already eating quite disordered(without realising - in a soft binge cycle and missing hunger and fullness ques) and we had a schoolwork to "mark on this website your eating habits-food etc for a period of time and submit to the teacher"

If I remember correctly i think it didn't let me log a empty breakfast so I asked, in front of the while class "what if you eat irregularly?" and was then openly pressed until I revealed I mostly only ate once a day and sometimes missed days (once again, I didn't even really try to hide it, I ate a lot when I did and didn't think about food much, I just wanted to do my schoolwork properly)

My teacher then told me to eat something for meals to log them and I just got frustrated cause before, they had extra told us not to change our habits for this assigment

I forgot about it soon and only long after realised my whole class thought I had a full blown ed at that time

And all they did was - ONE person told me once, randomly to eat breakfast every morning, at least a sandwich (at least?? dude that's a whole MEAL) and report to them every day what I ate.

Honestly, at that point I was just confused but happy someone seemed interested in having a daily conversation.

They never once talked to me again.

And honestly, I was actually super sick at that time, not with an ed but severe depression and disassociation due to family trauma. Staying up 72h straight REGULARLY, fevers and sick all the time, severe memory loss

I was visibly sick,

with what they thought was an ed

And noone cared

They will never care, you will never reach anyone or anything else exept your ugw

Your worth will still drop cause your health, skin, mental capacity and wellbeing will drop it lower than your weightloss could ever regain

You will die alone, anxious and fuking pathetic cause it is all your fault anyways and noone feels bad for you "being so lonely boohoo"

You are the real evil anyways, otherwise you'd be worthy of love at this point.

Die like you deserve

Xoxo ♡

[demonscantgothere]

This anon who sent the Prompt about POW Galadriel and Sauron guise as Priest of Melkor. All I can say this wow, I never imagined this becoming a full blown story, but I’m honestly happy it did. Thank you !!

Look at you, messaging me at the perfect time! Here's Part 5, anon! You get a whole novel! Who knows when this thing is gonna end!

Litost by Helholden, Part 5

Fandoms: The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power (TV 2022), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types

Warnings: Explicit, No Archive Warnings Apply, F/M, Work in Progress

Relationship(s): Galadriel/Sauron, Galadriel/Halbrand (The Rings of Power)

Tags: Galadriel, Sauron, Halbrand (The Rings of Power), Elendil the Tall, Isildur (Tolkien), Eärien (The Rings of Power), Valandil (The Rings of Power), Prisoner of War, Power Dynamics, Power Imbalance, Good and Evil, Good versus Evil, Existentialism, Existential Crisis, Existential Angst, Late Night Conversations, Cell Block Conversations, Implied/Referenced Human Sacrifice, Betrayal, Treachery, High Priest of Melkor!Sauron, Voyeurism, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, References to Sauron's Past, Including But Not Limited To The Following, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Nothing Happens to Galadriel, But The Tags Are There For A Reason, Acts of Kindness, Hate to Love, Love/Hate, Denial of Feelings, Possibly Unrequited Love, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Alternate Universe - Future, Númenor, Akallabêth, The Downfall of Numenor, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Adventure, Action/Adventure, Conflicted Galadriel, Trust Issues, Relationship Issues, Everyone Has Issues, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Sauron Needs Therapy, Magic, Magic-Users, On the Run, Sharing a Bed, Slow Romance, Slow Burn, Heavy Angst, Tenderness, Novel

Summary:

He let out a huff of air, and before she knew it, he was chuckling. It was a feeble chuckle, which sputtered into another cough, and then turned to quiet laughter once more. His head fell to the side toward her face until he was trembling all over from the hilarity of whatever had gripped him in this sudden madness.

“What is it?” Galadriel asked him, feeling at an utter loss of whatever it was that so funny about any of this.

“It seems,” he said, barely able to choke out the words past a raw throat, “there are limits, after all . . . ”

“What do you mean?”

Halbrand drew in a deep breath, and then he opened his eyes, looking at her. If she was not mistaken, there was grief in them. “It means,” he managed, trying to explain it to her the best way he knew how, “that I have, at last, angered those above me.” He closed his eyes. “I thought they had forgot about me, in all honesty. So many years have gone by. Nothing’s ever happened. Thought I was—” He coughed, pausing briefly. “—Thought I was an insect, a pest. Easily ignored. Easily forgotten.” He coughed again, turning his head up to the ceiling. He drew in another deep breath; it rattled his whole chest. “They’ve remembered me at last . . . ”

Keep Reading

[batsarebetterthanpeople]

I'm not gonna lie I'm having a full blown crisis about this. I'm having flashbacks to playing as a kid and conversations I've had with my mom about makeup and interactions I had with my friends and the conclusion to all of it is facts I already knew about (I'm transgender and autistic and goth and a little bit of a diva) but I had no idea how much being a fucking weirdo has shaped just like, basic childhood experiences from before I knew I was a weirdo(trans and autistic)/ before I was being a weirdo on purpose (goth and center of attention)

[bisexualsdeservebetter]

help, my roommate-to-be (college) is so fucking pretty and I’m just crushing so hard but she seems to maybe have some biphobia???

so, context: future roommate (I’ll call her ‘Amy’) is super cool and interesting and attractive, and we’ve been casual friends for a few years. her most recent partner (I’ll call them ‘Eden’) ID’d as lesbian for a long time (I actually knew ‘Eden’ for like two years before I met ‘Amy’, though ‘Eden’ and I fell out of contact about a year ago) and the two of them were a very cute couple that I lowkey idealized as a young wlw relationship. sometime in the past year, ‘Eden’ came out as nonbinary, and ‘Amy’ was generally chill and supportive from what I could tell. however, they ended up breaking up soon after because ‘Amy’ found out that ‘Eden’ was cheating on her. with a guy, at that, and ‘Eden’ apparently said something along the lines of “what, you just want me to ignore that I’m attracted to guys too?!?” when confronted about cheating. sooooooo, yeah, ‘Eden’ perfectly embodied that harmful stereotype of the “cheating bisexual” and now ‘Amy’ is kinda weird about bisexuality. like, she won’t say anything explicitly negative, but she’ll make the occasional off-feeling comment and I’m just internally confused by my feelings regarding her.

I didn’t find out about most of this stuff about ‘Eden’ and their breakup until ‘Amy’ and I started discussing potentially rooming together in college, but it’s just really uncomfortable to have a friend/roommate who is quietly biphobic while I am bi. but I also can’t 100% blame her, because she does try to support bisexuals but is just still dealing with her ex-partner cheating and using their bisexuality to defend said cheating. and I??? I don’t know what to do??? I really like ‘Amy’ and I can understand how she (justly) feels wronged, but also ‘Eden’ was like a one-in-a-thousand bad representative of bisexuality. and even if I don’t end up asking her out, I don’t want to leave her just stewing in this negative experience to strengthen/develop biphobic ideas.

sorry for the long rambling pseudo-essay, but I’m having a bit of a crisis about my first “real” crush (I’ve had fleeting, surface level attraction before, but this just feels different/more intense) and don’t know how to deal with any of this. please advise.

This is a tough situation.

It's definitely a good thing that she's not gone like full-blown bisexual, and of course she absolutely was the victim in that past relationship. Eden sounds like uh, the worst! And I'm very sorry for your friend that she wound up getting involved with and hurt by a person like that.

I think for Amy, it's gonna be an issue of when she is personally comfortable dating a bisexual person again. And I think that if you do decide you want to act on your feelings, you two should probably have a conversation about her comfort level with things, and how you can work together to make sure it's a healthy relationship.

This is difficult, because I can definitely understand why she might be a little disillusioned with bisexual women after that, but at the same time, like you said, Eden was 1 bisexual person who turned out to be the absolute worst. I think it's kind of a matter of Amy coming to terms with the fact that Eden does not at all represent the majority of bi people, but also, if she isn't comfortable dating another bisexual after that experience, that is of course her own boundary and it should be respected.

I think it's good that Amy doesn't malign bisexuality and that she still tries to support bisexuals even though she was (recently, I assume) hurt very badly by a bisexual person.

If you decide not to act on your feelings, honestly I think the best thing you can do for her is just being a good and honest friend. Assuming she knows you are bi; I think that having a supportive, trust worthy bi friend will probably be helpful to her.

And as I said before, if you do decide to act on your feelings, I think that the two of you should really prioritize communication, because I imagine she will probably have some lingering insecurities and trust issues.

Whatever you decide to do I wish both you and Amy the best, and I hope that your roommate situation (if not relationship as well) work out well for both of you.

[lady-laureline]

Today we're talking about a massive thorn in my side, namely the "water under the bridge" mentality in response to interpersonal conflict. While there is a time and place for it, it leaves a lot to be desired as a default response.

Healthy relationships (romantic or otherwise) go through cycles of rupture and repair. Hurt and healing. Transgression and reconciliation.

This knowledge is usually passed down from parent/guardian to child, through direct instruction as well as example. Buut, if the 'mentor' was never taught this skill, they cannot teach it, and the 'student' will grow up with little concept of healthy confrontation, and instead learn that keeping pleasantries afloat - and yourself under control - is what matters.

Within this context, bringing attention to pain signals a lapse in judgement in those that know better, and a lack of discipline or consideration in those who don't. It's also a sign of precarity: without the ability to break the problem down, it's harder to develop a sense of proportion. Ergo, a threat is a threat, no matter if it's a small misunderstanding, a tangible disagreement, or a full-blown crisis.

×

As someone who did grow up with the skill to repair, my understanding of a mature response to conflict is to parse it out: picking a moment to bring it up, having an open conversation, figuring out the relevant differences in perspective and the actual (versus assumed) root of it all. Only then can the parties involved make up and move on.

I took this attitude for granted before cohabiting with someone without the repair skill and finding out the hard way that trying to fix things was not what was expected of me. The lack of closure was what kept me from feeling like things were okay between us - but for them, not leaving the problem alone was the only thing keeping it alive.

At first, I tried to earn the right to talk about it, thinking I just needed to phrase it right. When that didn't work, I tried convincing myself I didn't need repair after all (pretty funny in retrospect). In the end, I had to conclude that each person is responsible for their own willingness to put effort into understanding the needs of another, and that denying your own, no matter how justified the context, just leaves you with more trauma.

×

That said, I have no intention of treating these attitudes as two sides of the same coin.

"Water under the bridge" doesn't carry your problems away to harmlessly dissolve into the ocean. Those emotions will stick around until you acknowledge their existence and their purpose, meanwhile they’ll eat away at you from the inside, whether you've dulled yourself to the pain or not.

With so much unattended hurt floating about, pretending everything's fine is ultimately nothing more than damage control. It might distract from the immediate upset, but - despite individual sacrifices made for the common good - it doesn't functionally bring us closer together. The brain is wired to fill in whatever information we're missing, and has a chunky negative bias, so without facts telling us otherwise we're likely to assume the worst about a situation and those involved in it. The less you are inclined to prove those suspicions wrong, the more pessimistic your reality becomes. This is how you end up alone in a room full of people.

But we keep shooting ourselves in the foot because the only thing scarier than loneliness is vulnerability. Even if you're willing to admit change, you'll have your psyche screaming at you to quit digging your own grave the second you let your guard down (it's trying to protect you and doesn't know any better).

Sometimes you have to take yourself by the hand and tell yourself it's ok. That you deserve better. Because we all bloody deserve better than just living with the crap that doesn't resolve on its own.

[bubblyhoney]

sarah i have thought of another fic request or like a cute idea i guess! i didn’t have anyone in mind when i thought of it so you can write it for whoever you want honestly :)

okay so the reader is a streamer but streams games like animal crossing, standew valley, etc. then (insert who you’re writing for) says they don’t like that game, but later ends up buying it and the reader is like “i thought you said you didn’t like this game” and they’re like “well i like you” and they confuses their feelings and they end up playing the game together and reader gives them a tour of their island or farm

i feel like this request isn’t good, but the scenario seemed cute and i wanted to share it. sorry if this is confusing or just too specific cuz i know it can be hard to write requests like that! but yeah i hope it gives you inspiration and you like the request <3

new horizons

warnings: language, a Marvel reference (hint: natasha said it about tony), stupid idiots who don’t realize they like each other, use of pet names, Uno rage, Hasan Piker's presence

words: 1473

tags: sapnap x gn!reader

A/N: i’ve been trying to catch up a little on my requests (i’ve only got a couple so i’m not super overwhelmed) but school and outside life has been taking up most of my time so this one took me a while to make! tbh— ive never played animal crossing so i did google some of the game mechanics and i apologize if anything is inaccurate about the game…. but i liked relaxing and writing this cute one so thank you for requesting hails :3

requests/inbox status: open

-

“This game is trash.”

Your head quirks, fingers stopped on the screen. You’re in the process of giving your character a cute new nickname; it’s kind of hard to decide between “awkward dude” and “elderly skater”.

“Excuse me?” Your chat comes alive with emotes and ‘KEKW’s, obviously entertained by you and your almost-more-than-friends-friend.

There’s a story for that later.

Sapnap’s rough laugh comes through your headset and he audibly swallows, the sound of a water bottle dropping onto his desk echoing.

“I’m just saying—it’s boring. It’s like Minecraft but you don’t like… do anything.” The grainy image of his bearded face shifts and you see him pull out his phone.

“It’s— you can’t even compare it to Minecraft! It’s a completely different game system—you actually interact with other people live in the game.” You huff out a dramatic sigh, slumping in your chair with a pout. “Just because you go into this lucid state where all you know is ‘touch block, hit George’ doesn’t mean this game isn’t fun.” (He scoffs at your awful impression of his voice. Your viewers love it.)

“Jeez,” he mumbles, fumbling with the cap of his water bottle. “Touched a nerve there, bud.”

You roll your eyes, getting back to the village in the game.

“Don't ‘bud’ me.”

The call falls comfortably quiet, the sounds of him tapping obsessively on his phone and you clicking away filling the silence. A gentle bedroom-pop YouTube playlist remains in the background, prompting you to hum along and glance at the chat to see a flood of “check twitter” and “Y/N TWITTER!!”.

“What happened on Twitter?” You mumble, confused, and pull the website up on another monitor. Sapnap just makes a curious noise, swinging back and forth in a circle. “Oh my God,” you say to yourself, fingertips brushing your parted lips.

“What?”

“Hasan Piker just followed me and retweeted one of my not even remotely political old tweets. Like from a year ago.”

“That’s— wow. Congrats?” Sapnap’s voice cracks, and his ears flush pink the tiniest bit when you glance at his face on Discord.

“I’m gonna go on record and say that he could get it.” You shake your head in disbelief.

Sapnap falls uncharacteristically non-hyper-verbal, so you look past the frenzied chat and to his screen— wait. He muted and turned his camera off.

“Um,” you start, furiously typing question marks in your private chat. “Where’d you go?” You mute and turn screen share off for your stream, concerned that he might’ve fallen off his chair and broken his neck and needs you to call the ambulance.

The characteristic ding of a twitter notification sounds through your bedroom, and you look at your phone quickly.

“That’s where I went.”

Sapnap Tweeted: “all Y/U stans can choke on my dick”.

“Jesus, Sapnap,” you say, and rapidly refresh to read the replies. This tweet was deleted. “That’s so— that barely makes sense, bro. Why— literally what?”

His snicker floods your ears and you relax in your chair. Crisis: averted. “Don’t fucking— what’s wrong with you?”

“I thought it would be funny,” he offers, shrugging, and fiddles with the straw in his water bottle, smile fading. “And also Hasan pisses me off.”

“Why, ‘cause he wants a piece of this? Jealous?” You think back to your viewers, knowing they’re probably spamming question marks and coming to ludacris conclusions about both of your absences. No offense to them. You remember your stan days very vividly.

“I mean, kinda.” He rubs once at his nose, glancing at the camera (and what feels like you) before taking a sip from his water bottle.

“Wow.” You watch one strand of his hair fall from beneath his hat and brush against his full eyebrows. “I’m uh—I’ll get back to my stream. You coming? Or is it time for a Sapnap-snack?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” He snorts and leans his chin onto the balance of his arm.

“That means you like to take a little snack break mid-stream and come back approximately nine hours later and you didn’t even eat.”

“You know what— fuck you.” He flicks the camera as you laugh at the look on his face.

The teasing mood is easily kept as you switch games from Animal Crossing to Uno, all the while slamming Sapnap with +4’s and skipping the newly-arrived BadBoyHalo at any chance you can get. It unironically pisses him off and he has to take a Sapnap-snack break midway through (only a fifteen minute break this time, during which you and Bad take a “What Kind of Bread Are You?” quiz). The rest of the night is filled with devious cackles (you), loud and sudden bangs that sound suspiciously like someone hitting their desk in anger (Sap) and the stupid barking of Rat, AKA Lucy (Bad). She’s cute but a menace to the sound quality of Bad’s microphone. You sign off stream around 2 a.m. with various forms of thanks and kisses blown to the camera. It’s been a refreshing night, actually; you’ve been busy organizing a partnership stream all week and all your friends have been busy filming or editing or what-not. Quackity had time for a little Roblox every couple of days, though. He’s got your back.

The next time you see Sapnap is after a two hour stream of him try-harding in Valorant and you finishing responding to an email from your partnership in the VC.

“Okay, I’m back.” You hear him shift in his chair and click a couple more times on his keyboard. You perk up in your chair, closing the email browser you’d been looking at.

“Do you want to play anything else? I’m down for anything.”

“Absolutely not Uno. You can go to hell for giving me 6 cards that one time,” he jabs. You scoff, crossing your arms and leaning back in your chair.

“Okay, the +4 was on me but it’s Bad who gave you the last two. That’s not my fault, sweetie.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, trailing off as the clicking of his keyboard stops. “Hey, um—Guess what?”

Your heart beats loud in your ears at the tone of his voice. He sounds nervous; that’s never good.

“I’m scared to guess,” you try, playing with a little Minecraft dog figurine you have on your desk with fidgety fingers. “What?”

“I bought Animal Crossing.”

Silence. You stare at his discord icon blankly, trying to reroute the wires of your brain.

“Tell me you love it.”

“Well… I haven’t actually played it— but you said you liked it, so.”

“So,” you repeat him, ears warming but continuing on. “Is that what you tell all your friends when you buy something they like? That it's because of them?”

He seems to choose his next words carefully, pausing a beat to consider your questions.

“Well, I don’t have a crush on all of my friends.”

“You—what?” You stutter, caught off guard and stumbling. What did he just say? “Don’t tell me you mean you have a crush on me.”

“I’m almost positive I just did.” His discord icon stares right back at you, taunting.

“You know, you’re very casual for someone who just admitted they like-like me.” Your cheeks flush pink and you have to press a hand to your chest to keep your breathing sounding stable.

“Yeah, I’m kind of cool like that,” he offers, a huff of a laugh punctuating his statement. The conversation moves into a lull that you can’t help but know is because of you. He must expect you to say something about it, right?

“You are very cool, Sapnap.” You tilt back in your chair, sucking in a breath to prepare yourself for your next words. “And—Isortakindofhaveacrushonyoutoo.”

He must understand you, for you can hear the grin in his voice when he asks “Really?”

“Y-yeah.” You feel like a preteen again, all shaky and giddy in front of the boy you just asked to a middle school dance.

“Um, alright. What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you answer genuinely and swing in a happy little circle in your chair. “We could play Animal Crossing.”

“I’m down.”

You swear you’ve never heard more beautiful words.

He keeps his camera off for most of the time you two play, too focused on creating his island and asking you questions about how to fish to turn it on. He silently flips it on when you help him decorate his lawn, needing to show you in real-time the decorations he has bought and where you think he should put them. He looks cute. I mean, of course he does. He always does.

You tell him goodbye late in the night, eyes saying a little more than just “see you tomorrow”.

You like him. He likes you.

It’s even better when you two have matching gardens.

-

A/N: anybody and everybody (especially my precious hailey) let me know what you think!! :]

[fictionalpeoplecompleteme]

“Oh My God”

Paring: Tewkesbury x Fem!Reader

Request: Yes / No | “maybe a lil tewkesbury oneshot (also it is tewkesbury, i get how there are different variations but it was gnawing at me not knowing the correct spelling that i pulled it up with subtitles to confirm lmao, anyway) where idk maybe there are certain situations where he's not acting like himself but no he's just a lovesick child and enola being enola she tries investigating?? and then finds out he's happy and in a relationship??” - @biqherosix​

Warnings: Other than too much description?? Nope

Word Count: 1,492

(A/N): OMG!! Ever since I posted the “what fandoms I'll write for” and I’ve actually gotten requests !! By the time I get this out, I hope I’ve gotten more!! So for this request, it mentions that Tewkesbury is… talking to Enola, which is implied in the movie that they will, but for the sake of this fic, they DID talk later and are straight up best friends :). Also, there literally isn’t any tewkesbury fics?! Like um, can anyone recommend any cause I can’t find ANY.  n e wayz, ily all and I hope you have a great day !! mwah ! 

Enola.... well you can say she was worried to say the least. Though she wasn’t the ‘’oh my god I’ll die” type of worried, she was just… curious.

After the fiasco events that both Enola and Tewkesbury endured in the past, good actually came out of it, rather than just plain sad memories. Enola realized that she had the infamous Holmes detective skills (and is amazing at it), and she then got into (more forced, but that doesn’t matter) a beautiful friendship.

We all know the chemistry Enola and Tewkesbury had, trust me, but with a mutual conversation that with her constant cases and his duties as a lord, it would be best to just remain friends rather than get heartbroken.

That didn’t mean that they couldn’t hang out. Please, if anything that’s all they did once their work was completed. It was pretty diverse, to a simple walk to the bakery to full blown pranks to a certain annoying brother. Enola just couldn’t help it. So you can imagine her worry once Tewkesbury started being more absent. He would always say he was busy with his lord duties, but he would always be “busy” different times of every day. Enola always knows when his work would be started and finished, she isn’t stupid. So tell her why this man would leave at a certain hour, then the next day suddenly leave at a completely different time

That’s also when he started to get “distracted” more often than usual. To the point he would miss full length conversations because he was lost in thought. There was even a point where Enola bluntly asked, 

“Is there something wrong Tewkesbury?” 

“Mhm?” was all that came out of him. Of course, he was distracted again.

“My point exactly” she sighed, “Is there anything going on? Maybe at work? I know there’s this huuuuge crisis going on in the ci-”

And that’s where he started to zone out. Don’t get him wrong, he loves Enola and her rants, but those rants often do get a bit tedious. That’s when he started thinking about you, probably one of his favorite pastimes to do. What? Can you blame him? You’re just so adorable! Though to be totally honest, he didn’t really know why he won’t tell Enola about you, she’ll love you, more than she already does (it’ll make sense later). Sure, she’ll get investigative, but that’s how she is, nothing can stop that.

He honestly can’t imagine someone genuinely dislike you. You’re one of the nicest people in the world, always putting others before yourself. Possibly even nicer than himself. Nope, that can’t possibly be. There was even this one instance where he bought you a whole bouquet of flowers, though you proceeded to smack him with a flower, saying “you really ought to stop buying these flowers for me, you gonna go poor!” but then you felt bad, taking him to a bakery as a ‘sorry’ for doing that.

Though he won’t lie when he says when your niceness attracts other people, lets just say his arms around your waist are more frequent in those scenarios.

“-sure hope that you can fix that one cause, that’ll be a mes- TEWKESBURY!!”  

He almost fell out of the chair! “Wha-? What! Why was that necessary?!”

“Because it was!! What were you possibly thinking about to make you react like that? My topic of conversation was completely full of information that goes with your expertise.” Enola said slyly. You’d think this guy would listen to what she’d say, he’s at times quite draft in the courtroom, but then again she wasn’t any better.  

“You basically yelled in my ear!” he said defensively “and please, anyone would die of boredom with a political conversation with you.”

She then proceeded to hit him with a random glove that was nearby. Enola was starting to get annoyed with Tewkesbury, but when didn’t she. 

“You know what? I have to go anyways.” he said

“Seriously? Right after we had an argument?” I mean, who does that? 

“What can I say, duties awaits.” Right after that conversation, he picked himself up, and left. We can confidently say both Enola and Tewkesbury know that he won’t be doing anything of that sort. So Enola being... Enola, followed him to wherever he could possibly be going *wink wink*. She followed him to the streets, where halfway, he stopped to go to a flower store.

We all know Enola is extremely smart, so it wasn’t a surprise when she started to the the pieces together. 

“Oh my god”.

 Enola can admit that Tewkesbury was an attractive guy, anyone can admit that, but for some reason, she never imagined that he was actually with someone. In a way, she was happy, he had someone. Then once she actually actually thought about it, she started getting mad. How could he possibly not tell him?! She told him everything that was going on in her life, bad and the good. So why would he possibly not tell her what’s going on in his life? You could say that she was overreacting but they are best friends!

Enola hid once again once he saw Tewkesbury leave with a beautiful pink rose in his hand. She then proceeded to follow him all the way to his destination without him noticing, she was slick like that. And saw him enter a house... that wasn’t his.

Tewkesbury finally was able to see you. Don’t get him wrong, he loves hanging out with Enola, but he desperately just wanted to see you.

“Really, another flower?”

“Wow, no ‘why hello sweetheart, how was your day, you look dashing today?’ ” He said sarcastically. “Besides, be happy I didn’t buy the whole bouquet. Just a beautiful rose to match my beautiful girlfriend.”

You laughed, with a blush, at his compliment. He was always able to do that. You went to him, putting your arms around his neck, “You’re so cheesy.”

“Only for you.” He says with that smile of his. Once he leaves the flower in a vase, joining the other flowers (that gives you an idea how much he gives to you), then proceeds to pick you up, and takes you to the couch.

“TEWKESBURY!” You squealed. He laughed, looking at you with such adoration, but what was he supposed to do? You looked beautiful, with the sunlight shining your features, and your hair being perfectly done with your favorite hairdo. 

He places you on the couch, then him placing his head on your lap. He just wanted to relax, and you did have that magical touch, especially with you playing with his hair. 

You then started to get a little worried. Although he didn’t know it, you could see his facial features getting... almost sadder. He was always the happy type, always smiling, so when he’s sad, you can almost always tell.

“You okay, Tewkesbury?” He chuckled, there’s that kindness.

“I’m fine darling.” he said while stroking your cheek.

“Mhm. Nice try love, but you’re going to have to tell me what’s going in that small brain of yours”

He then acted hurt, giving you a scoff. “Hey, I might be an idiot but I’m your idiot.” he laughed, giving you his infamous smile. Though he ended up not saying anything after that, making you quite a tad annoyed.

“You know what..” He wondered what you meant by this, but then quickly learned once you got up. He grumbled, definitely not wanting that to happen.

“What are you doing?” He asked 

“Being stubborn.” You said crossing your arms. Tewkesbury was amused to say the least, you looked so cute while you were angry. “I’m not going back until you tell me what’s wrong”

“Fine, I’ll tell you, just please hold me.” He said it with such an adoring face that you just melted at the sight of. How could you say no to that face?

You went to his direction, sat down, and proceeded to hold him tightly, like you always do. Ready to listen to whatever was making him uneasy.

“It’s just Enola... I haven-”

The door slapped open.

“Oh My God.” 

“Oh My God!”

“What?! Why the ‘oh my gods?!”

“(Y/N)?!!” Enola basically yelled.

“Enola?” 

Okay, backstory coming up. You and Enola are quite good friends, not to a point where you would hang out every single day, but good friends where you guys would send a letter occasionally, asking each other to go to the library, or to hang out at the park, maybe even join in a prank or two with Enola’s dear brother. That’s actually how you and Tewkesbury met, both you and Enola running away from a prank that both of you pulled, and both of you happened to run into him. Lets just say he was intrigued the first time he met you.

“Oh my god.” He said, just now realizing what was going to happen, and it probably wasn’t good.

“YESS!! You guys are together!!” 

huh.

TAGLIST ( bio ! )

[thechangeling]

If I keep my eyes closed

A quick authors note before we get started. When writing characters like Ty, Alyssa and my version of Lizzie I always find myself trying to straddle this imaginary line between creating "good representation" and what I believe is accurate representation, or at least accurate to my experiences as an autistic person. I struggle with this the most when writing Alyssa. I am constantly trying to be mindful of respecting and honoring her cultural background as a white writer while still inserting my own autistic experiences and autistic trauma into her character and story. Sometimes that even means going against my own instincts and feelings.

That being said I still invite anyone to criticize my work if I've written something offensive. Especially if you are an autistic POC! I know that my autistic perspective is not the only way to be autistic and I don't want anyone to think I'm suggesting that.

Also I wrote an Alyssa playlist if anyone wants to listen to it it'll be at the end.

Cw: Autistic trauma!!!!! Like a lot!!, parental trauma, mention of C-PTSD triggers and dissociation.

Chapter 5: Despite everything I'm still human.

If you recognize the title of this chapter I love you and you get a cookie!

5.  He wasn't actually that pretty.

That was the first thing Alyssa noticed when she saw Kit Herondale for the first time. She supposed she had hyped him up a little in her head seeing how much Ty pined after him, but really he was just a boy.

Ok sure he was cute. Not really her type but still attractive. He had a nose and lip piercing which was a plus, along with a few tattoos that Ali wasn't sure about the meaning of. But she knew they definitely weren't runes.

He also left his shoes on indoors like most white Americans which really pissed her off. Like why are you tracking all this dirt through your house just to make a mess that you'll have to clean up later? And what if you wanted to put your feet up? It was stupid and made fuck all sense.

But that was beside the point. Other than that Kit seemed nice enough, other than the fact he was ignoring Ty. But Ty seemed like he wasn't ready to talk to Kit yet either so maybe it was for the best.

Alyssa was currently lying in one of Ty's hiding spots around the institute. It was a little nook beside one of the windows in the library. It was extremely high up, but if you used a chair to climb onto one of the book cases, then you could climb up on top of it and jump to the ledge from there. It wasn't very hard for a werewolf with enhanced strength and speed to do.

Alyssa lay on her back, her dark hair billowing out around her with her feet planted on the opposite wall and her knees bent. She was absentmindedly using her werewolf hearing to listen to the conversations of the people below.

They were in the midst of a full blown crisis. As it turned out Kit was the descent of some super special faerie person and supposedly had all this untapped power. Now a bunch of people were trying to get their hands on him.

Alyssa didn't really care about the details. What she cared about was that Ty had already figured this out and had neglected to tell her.

She was trying not to feel angry, or hurt and betrayed. She knew that he was probably just protecting Kit, but the old voices in her head were whispering again.

He doesn't trust you. He'll never trust you.

You're not really his friend.

He doesn't love you.

"Shut up," Alyssa whispered out loud. Trying to push them aside.

She had gotten along well enough with Ty's siblings. She played the part of the dutiful good girl with her smiles and politeness. When she met Ty's sister Drusilla she had barely been able to contain her excitement at her name. Drusilla just like Drusilla from Buffy the vampire slayer, her favorite show and her special interest.

Alyssa had bit the inside of her cheek to keep from squealing.

Down below Kit's friends Marìa Machado Sotomayor, or Mari as she preferred to be called, and Lizzie Fauteux were talking about the upcoming meeting and the danger they were all facing.

Mari was sweet. The kind of person who actually seemed genuinely like she cared about people and wanted the best for everyone. It was weird. But Ali liked it. Lizzie on the other hand was a burning fire of pain and hatred. She didn't say much and was a weird combination of shy and aggressive that seemed to suit her.

When Ali first stared into the girl's eyes, it was only for a quick second seeing as she seemed to militantly avoid eye contact which was fine by Alyssa, it was like staring into a dark black void. There was so much despair behind those eyes and so much anger. Ali looked into those eyes and saw herself.

Mirror mirror.

Lizzie was just more open about it.

So yeah, she kinda didn't like Lizzie.

Mari was definitely way more fun. She loved the way they gushed and grinned when they spoke of their home town of Loiza, or told stories about how she danced Bomba with her friends and family.

It made Alyssa homesick though. Homesick for Adobo and Lumpia, for parties and dancing. Homesick for her own family.

She loved Ty and Anush but there were certain things that she just couldn't get from them. Alyssa may not always have gotten along with her family but they were still family and family was everything.

It didn't mean that it didn't make her angry when she had to lie to them about things she knew they would never understand or mask constantly around them, always twisting herself into a new shape depending on the situation.  She knew that they were partly responsible for inflicting some of the trauma that caused her to develop C-PTSD even though they hadn't meant to and yet she still loved them and felt indebted to them.

It was complicated. Kind of like how she was a part of so many things at once, so many different communities. She was queer, Filipina American, had multiple neurodivergences, and was a werewolf of the New York pack and yet still she felt so alone. Like she belonged nowhere. Like she was nothing. Just different little made up figments meant to appease different people.

Alyssa Reyes didn't exist.

She heard James Marsters' voice as Spike from Buffy in her head.

Oh poor poor little lost girl. She doesn't fit in anywhere. She's got no one to love!

Ali whined out loud pulling at her dark wavy hair. Calm down you idiot. Just calm down.

She knew she should probably look for the rest of her pack. The meeting would be starting soon.

But Alyssa was instantly snapped out of her thoughts when she heard Ty's name.

"When I first saw that necklace I swear I bloody thought they were secretly dating" Mari giggled in her Devon British accent.

"Wait seriously?" Lizzie chimed in with her less pleasant, rougher flatter voice which had a British accent with a little mix of French. "You thought he was with that boy the entire time he was dating you? And then me? Kit wouldn't do that."

Alyssa's eyebrows raised at the knowledge that apparently Lizzie and Mari were both Kit's ex's.

"Well yeah I mean after that! I mean he never tells us anything! But it seems like he was just pining," Mari said with a shrug. She was relaxed against one of the comfy chairs, fiddling with a string on her top. Lizzie scoffed.

"Still pining you mean. It's pathetic." She was sitting on the floor across from Mari, holding her knees to her chest tightly. "I mean I really don't understand the point. Is Ty even really worth it?"

Oh fuck her!

They both definitely didn't realize that Alyssa was above them. She could drop down and scare the living shit out of them. She could go after Lizzie and rip her a new one. But honestly she was exhausted.

And depressed as fuck.

The C-PTSD symptoms were really out in full force today. Alyssa had a headache and her upper shoulders ached. Her emotions were all over the place and her chest felt tight. She was almost considering napping in this spot before she heard another voice, not Lizzie's or Mari's.

"Hey guys the meetings gonna start soon, you should probably come. I mean unless you wanna get like eviscerated by that scary chick who runs your pack!"

Kit Herondale.

She would know that voice anywhere. It had already become so cemented in her mind. She watched as Kit came over to Mari smiling as they made grabby hands at him to pull them up. Lizzie stood up on her own with a little grumble and a groan which caused Kit to chuckle and wink at her which she promptly responded to by giving him the finger. But Alyssa could tell there was something in her gaze there hadn't been before. Warmth.

She watched as the three of them slowly made their way out of the library. She knew she should really join them. Maia would have her head if she was late. Alyssa rolled her eyes at the sky.

Suddenly just as Kit reached the doorway, he stopped, letting the other two leave without him. He stood in the doorway for a moment in silence.

"Are you coming?" He asked. Kit turned around to look back at her, staring directly up at where she was. "Or am I gonna have to come up there and get you?"

He knew?  He knew she was up there the entire time and he didn't say anything? Until now. But why? Alyssa sat up, readjusting her position so that she was facing him.

He was smirking. She wanted to wipe that stupid expression off his face. She smirked back at him, rage boiling through her blood. "I'd like to see you try, shadowhunter!"

She spat the word shadowhunter like a curse. And for a moment he looked genuinely hurt before he shrugged.

"Not entirely though," he pointed out. "I mean if that was the case we wouldn't even be having this meeting. You know the big how do we make Kit not die brainstorming session? Should be a blast, you should totally go."

Despite herself Alyssa snorted. She could see why Ty liked him. Kind of. He had this way of speaking that got caught underneath your skin. Words that seeped inside of you and tickled until they made you giggle.

"I was going to. I was just taking some time."

Kit nodded. "Yeah I see he told you where his hiding spot was." He had a strange sort of expression on his face, like he was jealous.

Alyssa couldn't help it. She smirked again. "Yeah of course he does," she taunted. "We're best friends, he tells me everything."

The barb did it's job. Kit looked crestfallen. Although he was trying to hide it. That made Alyssa even angrier.

How dare he act all wounded after what he did? He has no right.

Alyssa jumped down from her perch gracefully, barely making any noise. She could still her ballet teacher's voice in her head. Land on your toes and bend the knees. "Anyways," she clicked her tounge. "I guess we better get going."

"Wait," Kit blurted out. "Can I ask you something?"

Alyssa sighed in place of an answer. Kit kept talking anyway.

She wasn't prepared for the way his gaze looked so pained and desperate when he asked, "how do I get Ty to care about me?

Alyssa grit her teeth trying not to explode with rage. She knew she should try to be calm and patient. It's what Ty would want.

But she was exhausted, shaking and in pain. She had had enough.

Alyssa laughed almost manically. "Are you fucking serious? How dare you? The fact that you have the blatent audacity to be so fucking ignorant blows my mind!"

Kit's eyes widened. "What?"

"Newsflash dumbass! He is in love with you! He has been ever since the day you fucking abandoned him for greener pastures," Alyssa shouted.

Kit glared sharply. "That's not what happened and you don't fucking know! You weren't there! So don't act like you were."

Altssa scoffed. "No I was just there for the aftermath. I was there to hold him while he cried!" She was waving her hands around while she yelled now, as she had a tendency to do. "And you know he never cries! I was there to stop him from bashing his skull open against the wall or from slitting his wrists with one of his dangers. To watch as he shut down and never let himself feel anything like what he felt for you again in case they betrayed him." Alyssa was fully aware she was crying now but she didn't care.

"You fucking destroyed him!"

Kit looked like he had just been gutted, his eyes wide open in horror. "I'm sorry," he whispered, more to the air then to her. "I had no idea. But I had to leave and it seemed like Ty didn't want me around. Like he didn't care." Tears welled up in his eyes.

"I was just so fucking heartbroken. Like somebody had cut a hole in me."

Alyssa growled. "So that makes it ok then? Be cause you think the heartbreak you were feeling was worse then his? Because it was so easy to believe that the autistic boy wasn't madly in love because that doesn't happen right?"

Kit narrowed eyes his at her. "Please don't put words in my mouth. I never said that."

And deep down somewhere in the logical part of her brain, Alyssa knew he was right. But she couldn't reach logic right now. She was the match, burning on rage and pain and trauma and all she wanted to do was hurt someone else to make it stop hurting. And mostly it had just been too many damn years of this shit.

"You wanna know what burns me the most?" She snapped. "That no matter what, you will never understand how much he loves you." Her voice broke. Ali could feel more tears sliding down her face. She wiped her eyes aggressively.

"The way he feels. It's the way people like us love. Burning and all consuming. Like an infection that eats at you from your core, tearing you up inside." Alyssa shut her eyes, allowing herself to get lost in the feeling. She took a deep breath, then exhaled.

Then she opened her eyes. Kit was staring at her, watching. Waiting for her to continue. Alyssa made herself to look directly at Kit.

"It's like this desperation for more, more, more. One more touch, one more glance, just one more word." She shook her head. "He would anything for you. But he is so afraid of showing it because we all know, Kit. We know all too well that bad things happen when we trust! Bad things happen when we love! When we care! And now you've just become more proof of that."

Alyssa pushed her hair back and ran her hand over the top of it, smoothing it down. "I mean put yourself in his shoes, how can Ty trust you again? How is he supposed to find it in himself to move on from this?"

Kit sighed, squeezing his eyes shut before opening them again.  "I'm sorry I didn't mean to-"

Alyssa cut him off. "I know. I know you're sorry. Everybody's always so fucking sorry. Everybody wants you to know how they never meant to hurt you like that or the never intended it to be taken in that way. It was a stupid mistake. A stupid childish mistake and they've grown." Alyssa realized she was shaking, her chest rising and falling. "They're better now," she choked.

"But you have to understand they were just kids Alyssa! They didn't know any better Alyssa! But what about us huh? What about our childhoods? What about our innocence? Do you even care about that? About those kids who were changed? Who were broken and used until they changed. Until they became something else? That childhood? The childhood made up of pain and hate and meaningless loneliness!" She yelled. She wanted to hit something. Kit looked a little afraid that she might hit him. And for a minute she wanted to. She shook her head rapidly, trying to purge those thoughts.

Kit's jaw clenched. "I'm so sorry for what you've been through. For what Ty has been through."

And God the way he said Ty's name. Like it was sacred.

"But this isn't my fault," Kit said softly.  "What your talking about is so much bigger than me."

Ali laughed again. A humourless dark chuckle. She could feel parts of her body missing. She would reach for them and it was like they weren't there.

"It's not your fault?" She murmered. "It's never anybody else's fault. I suppose then the implication is that it was ours." Kit opened his mouth to protest but Alyssa wasn't done. "

"But we just kids," she whispered, allowing the full weight of that statement to crush her. "Even if nobody else could see it. We were innocent, even if we only got to be for a little while."

"And now after all of your chaos and destruction of the person I love most in this world. You wanna just walk in here and claim that he doesn't care about you." Alyssa scoffed. "I wish he didn't ."

Kit stared at her. And for a moment Alyssa was struck by how much he look like her. Not appearance wise of course, but with the same haunted eyes and bone deep exhaustion.

"I don't know what to say to you," he admitted. "I can't erase what's happened to you or to Ty. I can't turn back time and undo what I did. But I need you to know. I need you to understand that I would do anything for him. I would die for him. Kit's voice dropped to a whisper.

"I love him so much."

Ali couldn't help it. She smiled. She smiled because it was beautiful and moving and maybe she was still that little girl who was niave and just wanted to believe in something.

And she believed him. Despite the fact that she knew Kit Herondale was a liar, she believed him.

"Yeah me too, she said with a sigh. Her emotions were finally stabilizing. Thank fuck.

"So what can I do? He asked. "What can I do to make it better?"

Alyssa blinked a few times then shook her head. "Huh? What?"

"I mean with what you were talking about before," Kit stated warmly. "You're right. Even if I didn't do any of those things to any of you directly it's still partly my responsibility to change things. I wanna create a world where maybe one day autistic children won't be traumatized. And mostly I just wanna make Ty happy. So how can I help?"

Alyssa was stunned. Nobody had ever asked her that before. No one had ever tried to help her in a way that wasn't demeaning or condescending. And nobody had ever offered to make things better. No, people only ever seemed interested in adding to her problems, adding onto her plate.

My brave strong girl, her mother used to say.

So mature.

You seem so well adjusted! People would say.

So well behaved. Her teachers

Really you're only seventeen you seem so muture for your age!  The grown men who hit on her when she was a minor.

"I honestly don't know," she admitted. "I'll have to think about it. But as far as Ty goes just listen to him. Pay attention to what he does and if you're ever confused about something just ask. And Ty can probably tell you more but you really need to be having this conversation with him."

Kit nodded. "Right. And we really need to get going. We're late."

Oh crap the meeting.

"Right! Shit let's go!"

"Wait," Kit stopped her before she could leave. "Thank you. For being honest."

Alyssa smiled slightly. It was barely a flicker, all she had the energy for, but it wasn't for him.

It was for her and Ty.

"Always."

AAAAAA I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!!! I put so much if myself into this chapter as you can probably tell. And for those of you who are waiting for the kitty confrontation, next chapter y'all!!!! It's gonna be a lot!

Tagging: @lavender-scented-rat @thefoxandthefound @littlx-songbxrd @queenlilith43 @arangiajoan  @tired-vin @amchara @wagnerthedragon @sandersgrey @the-wckd-powers @spooky-drusilla @unhinged-aroace @blacktothepink @the-blackdale @have-a-holly-jolly-angstmas @the-reader-who-reads-and-reads

[eirikaanemo]

I was wondering is I could get a scenario where reader is actually a descendant of decarabian and is out to get revenge on barbatos and take back mondstat and barbatos’s gnosis so they can become the anemo archon. They are a spy in mondstat trying to gather information before they put their plan into full affect but end up falling in love with venti in the process and don’t know if they want to get revenge anymore so they tell venti everything.

Of course, I would be happy to! Thank you for being my first request! This is a little long, but I hope you like it!

Child of the Storm

Warnings: Some angst in the middle

Venti x GN!Reader

2.8k Words

Decarabian had many children. These children are known as storm sprites. Quite a few exist, though their numbers are greatly diminished now that he has fallen and Barbatos became the Anemo Archon. They’re mostly peaceful, but not all of them. Not you.

No, you want revenge. Barbatos took what was rightfully your father’s, the anemo gnosis and position as Archon. Decarabian had only been doing what he felt was right. He was protecting the people from the harsh and cruel colds of the outside world. And this was how he was rewarded?

It’s not like Barbatos is a good Archon anyway. He goes missing for centuries at a time, sleeping his time away. He doesn’t actively protect and guide his people. He is lazy and irresponsible. He does not deserve what is rightfully your father’s. And so, since your father cannot take the gnosis and rise to his rightful station, you will.

This is not something that is easily done. Even though he is the weakest of the Archons, Barbatos is still an Archon. There is an inherent power and ability that comes from simply holding a gnosis. So you must prepare.

To do so, you become a spy in Mondstadt. It takes a lot of power to create a human form. But using the remnants of your father’s power and what power you have in reserve, you manage it. You integrate yourself in the city by becoming a knight of favonius and making many friends. Kaeya in particular is rather fond of you.

Why a knight? You may as well protect your people in the meantime. Hypocrisy is not a good look on you. And having many friends will help you get more information and have a better cover. So your plan begins. You do not actively speak against Barbatos, but you do not speak or act in his favor either. Your friends come to know you as a sort of neutral party on religion.

It baffled you how everyone in the city seemed to love Barbatos. How could they love an absent Archon? How could they love someone who abandoned them and hate one who was always there for them? Nothing about it made sense.

Your plan works perfectly. It was slow at first, but you’ve started to get more and more information on the going ons of the city. Most of it is trustworthy, but don't sources, like gossiping with Kaeya, tend to have mixed results. Sometimes his information is factual and completely true. Sometimes it is something he seems to have made up off the top of his head.

One evening you were waiting for Kaeya to meet you at Angel’s Share for another one of your information sharing (read: gossiping) sessions. As you wait you take a moment to enjoy the music played by one of the many bards that play at the tavern. The music tonight is particularly good and played by a bard in green.

His teal tipped braids, dark hair, and flower in his cap compliment his fair complexion. The tips of his braids seem to almost glow in the dark. His slim fingers seem to dance across the strings of his lyre. It’s an enchanting sight and you may have just fallen a little in love. Just a little.

Vengeance is your whole purpose, you cannot allow something like a little infatuation to distract you from that. And yet you can’t help but return to the bar over and over just to see him play. You start to tip him anonymously with apples and wine. It’s not your fault, he’s just too good at what he does. This is just you giving him the reward he deserves.

He eventually catches on and finds out who’s leaving the tips, because Charles is a dirty traitor. But it would be easier to be mad if Venti wasn’t so grateful and happy to have figured out it’s you who’s leaving the tips. The two of you formally introduce yourselves to each other and strike up a good conversation. You end up spending a lot of time together with him after his performances. He seems to enjoy those nights as much as you do. And sometimes you catch him staring at you with a dreamy look out of the corner of your eye.

But you start noticing a couple odd things. He has an absolutely ridiculous alcohol tolerance with no sign of debilitating hangovers. While singing, he doesn’t seem to stop as often to breath as much as other bards. It could be passed off as him just being better a better bard, except for the fact that it’s by a superhuman margin.

When you spot him turning into a wind sprite to sleep in a small shelter in an alleyway, it explains a lot of things. However, some of your questions go unanswered until one night when you’re playing around as a storm sprite. You notice him sitting on the hands of the statue of Barbatos and get curious. He seems to be speaking, so you hide behind the statue and listen carefully to what he is saying.

“Oh, Himmel,” he sighs. “Am I doing the right thing? Everyone seems happy, but would they be happier if I was a better and more active Archon?” Your world stops. How is this possible? Why him? Why did it have to be him? Could you even do this anymore? What in the world would you do with yourself if not this? If you’re honest with yourself you have to admit that you have come to love him.

This is your life purpose! But you love him! How can you fulfill your purpose if it requires you to harm the one you have come to love? What would your father think? Nevermind, you know what your father would think. He would call you a weakling for not following through. But he’s dead. So does what he would say even matter anymore?

Your existential crisis lasts for a solid week. Venti notices how distant you’ve become and does ask about it, but leaves it be once he sees that you’re not ready to talk about it. One day it becomes too much. He deserves to know, you decide. It may be hard and may drive him away from you entirely.

But you can’t keep this from him. Doing so wouldn’t be right and he should know the truth before the two of you even consider having more of a relationship than you already have. So no matter how much it scares you and tears you up inside, you choose to tell him.

“Venti, could you meet me at Starsnatch cliff tomorrow?” You ask him, nervously. “I have something I need to tell you.” He seems surprised, but is agreeable to the idea. “Sure,” he replies. “I’ll see you then!” The smile he sends you kills you a little more inside.

“I need to go,” you tell him as you hurriedly got up, paid your bill, and left. “Was it something I said?” Venti wondered behind you. Shrugging, he takes another sip of his drink. “Well, I guess I can ask them tomorrow.”

Tomorrow comes too soon, after a sleepless night of tossing and turning in your bed. There is nothing you want to do less than go to Starsnatch cliff, but you promised. So you go. You take your time getting there before sitting down with your feet dangling off the edge of the cliff. The day is beautiful. Much too beautiful for a day that may just ruin your life forever.

Taking a deep breath, you notice some footsteps coming up behind you. “Hey there,” Venti says. “It took me a while to find you. Be a bit more specific next time, won’t you?” You nod absentmindedly and pat the ground next to you. After he sits down, you start.

“Once upon a time there was a storm sprite, a child of Decarabian. They were created near the end of his reign, too young to join in the effort to protect him and his cause: protecting the people of Mondstadt from the cold blizzards of the outside. This was before the snows were blown away, and blizzards were abundant. Decarabian had created a barrier to protect his people from almost certain death.

“Yet his people did not appreciate his protection. They rebelled against him and he fell before them. If Barbatos had not risen to power, the people would have faced almost certain death to the harsh winds of Boreas.

“But, in any case, there was only one storm sprite left in the area to hear his dying wish. He wished for vengeance, retribution for the injustice he received for fulfilling his duty to protect. And it became that storm sprite’s purpose for existence. Or so they thought.

“They spent many, many centuries plotting the downfall of Barbatos, growing in power slowly. Eventually they were able to create a human form and walk among the people of Mondstadt. And walk among the people they did, collecting information and preparing for the date they would finally find Barbatos and take back what was rightfully their father’s.”

You stop a moment for a chance to breathe and glance at him to see how he was taking the story. He looked thoughtful and he gazed out towards the horizon. So you take courage and continue.

“But then, something happened- something completely unplanned. The storm sprite fell in love. At first it was just infatuation but it grew and grew until it became something stronger and more pure. They truly loved, for the first time since their father had died. And there were signs that the one they loved might even feel the same.

“Then something happened. Something that made their whole world fall apart. They found out that the one they had grown to love was Lord Barbatos himself.” There was a moment of silence. You don’t dare look at him. You are absolutely terrified. After you take a deep breath to steady yourself, you keep talking.

“They didn’t know what to do. Their purpose was to destroy the man and everything he stood for. But their heart would never let them do it. Eventually they made a very difficult decision. They would tell him.

“This is my story, Venti. This is my life and my past. It’s not pretty and it’s not kind. You have every right to hate me, despise me. If you no longer want anything to do with me, I would understand. I just… like I said, I just felt that you deserve to know.”

There’s another moment of silence, slightly longer, heavier, and more awkward than the ones before. When you turned to look at him, drawing your knees up to your chest, you saw him looking at you, pensive. What did he see? You wonder. Does he see a monster who was plotting his demise? Does he see someone unforgivable and unwanted? Will he send me away from Mondstadt forever?

As you looked down at your shoes, a thousand more thoughts running through your mind, he finally spoke. “Well, I’ll admit that this is not what I thought you’d wanted to talk about today. I was expecting something more along the lines of a confession, honestly. And I suppose you did admit that you love me as part of your story, but part of me wishes that you had stopped there.”

If possible, your head drops lower as you press your forehead to your knees. “But,” he carried on. “I’m grateful that you told me this. It really would have messed things up more if you waited until we were in a relationship to tell me. For now, I’d say you should keep going on as you are. Live your life the best you can. I would really prefer if you found a new purpose, one that doesn’t end in my utter destruction, but you’re free to make that decision.

“I won’t chase you out, if that’s something you’re worried about. You’ve proven that you love Mondstadt and cherish it’s people. But I will ask for some space. It’s going to take some time for me to process all of this. I’m going to go now. I’ll approach you when I’m ready, please leave me be until then.”

“Okay,” you whisper loud enough for him to hear. Then he gets up and walks off. You cry until you can’t cry any more. You’re not sure why, you deserve this and were expecting this after all. But it still hurts. The close relationship the two of you had was gone. And you miss it already.

After some time you pull yourself together, clean yourself up best you can, and head back to Mondstadt. You follow his advice and keep going with your life. Your new purpose, you decide, is to serve and protect Mondstadt and all its people. Kaeya and your other friends notice something’s different and ask about it in concern.

Most lay off after you say you’re not ready to talk about it. But Kaeya, being the persuasive and stubborn guy he is, didn’t give up until you admitted that you’d done something that messed up your relationship with Venti. He knew how much Venti meant to you and made time to be with you more while Venti took his time deciding what he’d do about it.

Then Dvalin started attacking, a traveler came to visit, and fatui were more abundant. You would have loved to take action against all of these, but Venti was so closely entwined with all of these issues that you didn’t dare. Things seemed to be working out okay without you anyway.

But then you felt a disturbance. A fatui was approaching the cathedral. That was odd because while the fatui aren’t exactly subtle about not respecting Lord Barbatos, they were never as bold as to go near his cathedral. Something was wrong and you were determined to find out what.

You arrived just as La Signora tore his gnosis out. While you froze in shock for a moment, you burst into motion the minute she stopped for a moment to look at it. With the speed of a burst of lightning, you snatched the gnosis from her hand and disappeared. You only stopped when you reached Old Mondstadt, but you could still hear her scream of rage.

You stash the gnosis away, hidden in a satchel that you usually carry with you. As you’re heading home you run across Kaeya. After talking with him for a moment, you get an idea. “Kaeya, could you deliver a message to Venti for me?” You ask. “Sure,” he said, smirking a little. “Are you going to try and make it up to him?”

“In a way,” you respond. “Just tell him to meet me where we last spoke, okay?” After a moment of fake consideration and stroking his non-existent beard, he agreed and the two of you parted ways. He went on to Mondstadt and you headed to Starsnatch Cliff.

You didn’t wait long, a four pair of footsteps came quickly. From their pace you could tell that they’d run all the way there. Once they came to a stop you turn to greet them. They were guarded and wary, which was understandable, but it still hurt.

When you pull the gnosis out of your bag, you see looks of shock. “What?” You question. “Did you think I would claim it myself or something?” The traveler nodded, Diluc shrugged, Jean wobbled her head back and forth, while Venti looked a little ashamed of himself. You smile ruefully. “I guess I deserve that. But here,” you hand the gnosis over to Venti. “I believe this is yours.”

He looks at the gnosis, then at you, then the gnosis, and repeats the pattern a couple times, his eyes wide. Eventually his eyes settle on you as he absorbs the gnosis. When the shine of his transformation was still wearing off, you feel a pair of arms wrap around you and hug you to a chest.

“Thank you,” Venti murmurs in your ear. “I think you’ve more than proven yourself to me. I forgive you. How could I ever thank you for this?” You smile and hug him back. “Maybe you could consider joining me for lunch tomorrow?” You smile even wider when you feel him kiss your cheek. “I think I can do that,” he agrees.

When the two of you part, he un-transforms, and you both turn to look his companions. Diluc has one eyebrow raised. Jean seems to have gone into shock. Traveler’s face is bright red and Paimon is covering their eyes and glaring at you. You both laugh, making Paimon glare harder. Diluc actually cracks a smile. And Jean snaps out of her shock and laughs a little with you.

Your date the next day goes wonderfully, and neither of you can wait for the next one.

[lunaastoir]

Heyhey! May I request a childe x reader where the reader simps for him but he doesn’t know? Like what if she was online best friends with the tsaritsa but the reader doesn’t know the tsaritsa is the tsaritsa so she constantly simps for childe to her. Like “OMG HE’S SO CUTE.” AND STUFF LIKE THAT. So since she’s like besties with the tsaritsa the cry archon decides to set her up? Thank you :>>>>

AAAAA NONNIE holds your hands gently this is so cute i love it :,) 

genshin doesn’t have internet/technology but for the sake of this ask shhhhhh we’re gonna pretend they do

i hope i interpreted your ask correctly, if i didn’t just lmk <3 

crack, fluFF- LOTS OF IT???

the tsaritsa’s meddling

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all you wanted were groceries. that was all you wanted. you were standing in line behind the stall as you counted the items you needed to get. salt, milk, sugar, fowl, what else? you were lost in thought as you prayed that you had enough mora to buy everything - god knows how hard eating is as an adventurer. which was why, when you dropped your precious mora, your mind immediately went into panic mode. not now, not now, please don’t let the line move, you begged internally. in hindsight maybe if your mora hadn’t dropped, maybe if you weren’t at your wits end as a broke adventurer, maybe if you had just bought those damn ingredients sooner, you wouldn’t be in this position. as you breathed a sigh of relief after collecting your money and returned your gaze back to the stall, the only thing you could do was stare. where...did everyone go? instead of simply turning around and fleeing which should’ve been your first instinct considering how deserted the place was, you stood there trying to process the information. that was, until you saw a head of auburn hair peak up out of the stall. startled, you almost dropped your mora again. as the tuft of hair gave way to a very tall, handsome, blue eyed man, your brain short circuited. 

oh god how you wished you had run when you had the chance. you imagined you must have looked quite comical; mouth hanging slightly open, the list of ingredients fisted in your hands while mora was hanging precariously from your fingers. after what seemed like an eternity, the man seemed to finally notice you. 

“oh hey, you must not have noticed but this stall is sold out for the fatui” 

the sentence accompanied with his signature smile practically brought you to your knees. that smile? aimed at you? you would be surprised if you weren’t drooling. 

determined to not look like an absolute idiot you flashed him a smile of your own before saying, “sorry my bad, i must not have been paying attention” while doing what little you can to get some semblance of balance. tuck the mora here, try to balance your list more gracefully, move that piece of hair from your face. 

his eyes surveyed your undoubtedly disheveled appearance, before making a quick decision. 

“what items do you want, i’m sure i can spare a few ingredients for someone as pretty as you” 

one blink. another blink. did he just call you pretty? oh my- 

“oh no, it’s really ok, i can just get these later - it’s not that important anyway” you lied through your teeth. you needed those ingredients or you were most likely going to starve on the road but he didn’t need to know that. 

“don’t worry about it, as a harbinger i’m sure my subordinates can overlook a few missing ingredients” he smoothly said before gesturing you towards him. 

“i’m childe by the way, if you didn’t know” his eyes flicked up to meet yours.

“y/n” you offered while handing him the list. 

as he looked over what you needed, you tried your best to keep your breathing steady while your mind raced. if you didn’t know? of course you knew who he was, who didn’t? you would know better than most considering how often you thirsted about him to your mutual. if anything, you should’ve been the one saying that line to him. as an adventurer, you tend to not spend much time in liyue harbor, chasing down ruin guards and running errands was how you would rather keep yourself busy. however, ever since you saw childe in liyue, sharing a pot of tea with zhongli of all people, you started swinging by the harbor more often. fascination was what kept you seeking him out wherever you went. you had heard about the infamous eleventh harbinger, supposedly the youngest of them, all while being quite easy on the eyes. you had brushed off all the talk you had heard to just that - talk. international affairs wasn’t something you cared for and if anything, seeing the fatui made you wary. however, your curiosity grew after seeing him whenever you were in town. you chalked up your eyes subconsciously seeking out his figure to the fact that he was just an interesting guy. nothing wrong with wondering about a peculiar fellow, right?  you went through excuses upon excuses until finally, you had concluded that perhaps, maybe, you had a little crush on him. tiny, you assured yourself. just a tiny crush on a very attractive man. 

that crush then trickled over to your time spent talking to your mutual. it started off with little hints of “oh there’s this guy i saw and i thought he was kinda cute” to full blown hysteria of “PLS SEND HELP HE LOOKED SO GOOD TODAY.” @cryogoddess definitely had a lot of patience putting up with your thirsts over a man she didn’t even have the name of. you felt horrible sometimes since more than half of your conversation was about the newest detail you had noticed about childe - however your protests on boring her were met with reassurances about how no, you weren’t boring her, and yes, this is the most lighthearted talk she’s had her entire day so please keep going. you weren’t exactly sure what this woman did, or even how old she was. all you knew was she was someone who was constantly stressed (maybe a fellow adventurer?) and she was quite honest (which you happened to appreciate). despite how busy she was, she seemed to always make time for your texts which made you feel like you could trust her with anything.

“is that all? do you need anything else?” childe’s voice interrupted your mental tirade as you owlishly looked at him. 

“oh! yes that’s fine thank you” you smiled before taking the bag from him. grabbing the mora, you rushed to hand out the correct amount before he stopped you. 

“don’t worry about it, it’s on the house” he laughed slightly before waving your mora away. 

it’s on the- excuse me? did he just give you all this for free? is this what fatui hospitality is like?  

rushing to close your mouth, you quickly recovered while slurring out a quick “thank you so much” before shouldering your bag. your brain was currently running on fumes and you were very sure that if you stayed there any longer you might just combust. 

“well, i’ll be off then, thank you again” you shot him another smile before quickly scurrying away. 

without turning back to look at his expression, you moved as fast as humanly possible while trying not to seem like you were about to jump out of your skin. you didn’t know what was more embarrassing, your thumping heart or the dopey smile on your face. there was no way you were ever going to get over this, not with the way he looked at you the entire time. sighing, you put your bag down near a bench and pulled out your phone. at least you had an update for your friend that consisted of something other than just mindless thirsts. 

your mind was still reeling over from what happened as you texted her with shaking hands. the reply was immediate: “wow, you finally got up the courage to talk to him huh.” you rolled your eyes playfully at her blunt message. “bY ACCIDENT- IT HAPPENED BY ACCIDENT,,, guess he couldn’t keep himself away from this sexiness 😩” another blunt reply: “right.” smiling softly, you responded: “thanks for hyping me up bestie i really appreciate it <3 ok but maybe childe and i belong together??? is this a sign from the archons???” you stared waiting for her reply, however you were met with a read 8:45 pm. you’re lucky i love you bestie, leaving me on read during my crisis you whispered to yourself as you shouldered your bag once again to head home. at least you won’t be starving tomorrow on your commissions. 

as soon as you entered your house, your phone lit up. “wait. as in childe, eleventh of the fatui harbingers, also known as tartaglia, feared by many on the battle field, currently stationed in liyue, major pain in the ass, and is currently ignoring some of his paperwork???” - @cryogoddess. your eyebrows furrowed as you read her message, “yes that’s him but why do you sound so freaked out and how do you know sm abt him?” another notification: “i can’t believe you’ve been thirsting to me abt CHILDE.” you: “KDJKSFJ YOU DIDNT ANSWER MY QUESTION - also??? i thought i told you his name did i not??? 😀” her: “no??? wow this definitely is...interesting” you: “BESTIE ANSWER MY QUESTION DO YOU KNOW HIM???” her: “i’ve gotta go, work is calling.” 

you sighed in frustration as you tossed your phone on your bed. why was she so freaked out? you weren’t dumb, you knew there was something she wasn’t telling you but you trusted her enough to know she’ll let you know if it was important. you wondered as you pulled the covers over your head, if you’ll meet childe in your dreams and if you do, hopefully, in a less embarrassing scenario. 

the next morning, you awoke to a barrage of texts from none other than @cryogoddess. they were all along the lines of you should go to bubu pharmacy and stock up on medication this evening (i heard they’re having a sale). you responded back with a maybe, if you had time today after your commissions and if xiangling didn’t stop by with some food. however, your mutual made you promise you would visit in the evening, even if it’s just for a few minutes. you gave in because a) you never could say no and b) she made it sound like it was urgent so maybe she was obsessed with medicine? hmmm you would have to figure out where she lived so you could send some to her. 

you walked toward bubu pharmacy while tiredly sheathing your weapon, loosely taking in your surroundings. kids playing near the pond, teenagers chatting at the steps, adults keeping a watchful eye over their kids while laughing about the day’s events. your eyes studied the sign outside of bubu pharmacy. sale? what sale? there doesn’t seem to be anything regarding a sale?

“y/n?” a mildly familiar voice called your name. you whipped around looking for whoever uttered those words before your eyes fell on none other than one blue eyed harbinger. he was holding a few silk flowers in his hand as he stared at you with a sheepish smile. 

“hi” you stuttered out. your mind was blank, what was happening? 

“oh sorry, these are for you. i don’t mean to make you uncomfortable but i heard that you might be interested in me? you caught my eye at the stall yesterday, so i was wondering if you would want to grab lunch from the third-round knockout and then go watch the sunset at mt. tianheng? there’s this really cool trick i can do with my hydro vision where i can make the sunlight dance across the waypoint.” 

you stared at him as you wordlessly took the silk flowers from his hands. the golden light of the setting sun cast his face in a beautiful sheen, softly showing off the gentle blush on his cheeks and the brilliant blue of his eyes. his auburn hair seemed to grow alive at the touch of the fiery light and all you could do was stare. 

childe’s confidence seemed to wane with every passing second that you gazed at him, open mouthed, so he decided to save himself the embarrassment before hesitantly opening his own mouth. 

“yes, i would love to” you quickly said. you smiled gently up at him. 

“i would love to watch the sunset with you” 

you felt your cheeks burning up as you looked at him with soft eyes. when he returned your expression with a dazzling smile of your own, you could feel yourself relax. yes, your heart rate was off the chart right now, but you were content. the sunset, childe, and the silk flowers was something you never knew you needed, but were glad you got. you had enough time later to worry about the oncoming mortification of how he found out you liked him. 

a single notification appeared in your phone as the two of you walked laughing towards the mountain. 

“you’re welcome <3″

BONUS: 

“i know i’m too sexy for you to not fall in love with me” childe sighed dramatically as he leaned against you for support as the two of you went up the stairs. 

you promptly rolled your eyes and pushed him down the steps as you walked ahead with his protests falling on deaf ears. 

[wallgirl]

The Little Nereid Part 7

2700 words, part 7 of a ?15? part fanfiction

Poseidon x OC

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful.

Categories: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending; no NSFW content; graphic violence in future parts.

---

"Dynamene, may I come in?" A gentle knock sounded on Dynamene's door. She looked up from where she had curled up on her bed, reading. By now, it had been a few hours since Poseidon had left to hear the audience of her sisters. Perhaps that was what Actaea was here about now. Dynamene perked up at the prospect of finally being let in on the secret.

"Yes, come on in," Dynamene called, sitting upright and setting her book aside. Actaea entered with a smile, but there was something rather tense about it under the surface.

"We just had an audience with Poseidon," she began, sitting on the bed next to Dynamene.

"Yes, so I understand," Dynamene replied, her voice a bit miffed. "I don't understand why you all left me out of it. I was worried. What was it about? Did something happen?"

Actaea shook her head. "Nothing to worry about, Dyna. In fact, far from it. You see, we got permission from Lord Poseidon to go home for a month." Her smile widened.

Dynamene blinked at her, completely caught off-guard. "Go home for a month? You mean... to our family's palace?"

"Yes!" Actaea took hold of her hands. "Think of it as a final coming-of-age gift. You've been stressed out lately, right? A visit home will surely freshen your spirits. Don't you think?"

"I..." Dynamene's gaze searched the room, still processing the sudden news. What had brought this on out of nowhere? "I guess."

"A dozen of us will be coming along with you. Me, Ianeira, Eione, Thoe, Callianassa, and some others... We'll get to go and see our parents, our old friends, and Nerites. Oh, it's been a while, hasn't it? I'm sure he's grown even bigger now."

Dynamene couldn't help but smile at the mention of their younger brother. "You're right, I'm sure he has. It'll be great to see him again. When are we going?"

"Tomorrow!" Actaea stood and crossed to Dynamene's dresser. She began to open the drawers and pull out clothing. "We leave tomorrow afternoon. So why don't we get you packed?"

Dynamene gaped. "Tomorrow?"

"Yes! After breakfast. So come on. Which of these chitons do you want to bring?"

Dynamene's smile faded slightly. Why was Actaea acting so strangely about this? Maybe she was just tired. It had been a long day, after all.

Her eyes wandered to her jewelry, then to her mother-of-pearl bracelet. If she was going to be gone for a month... She wouldn't see Poseidon for weeks. Her heart sank. Of course another obstacle would come up as she was getting closer to him. She would have to wait to receive that second bracelet. She couldn't help giving a sigh of disappointment. Well, he was the one who had brought up getting her another; surely he wouldn't forget. Poseidon was a man of his word.

"What is it?" Actaea said, looking up from the trunk she'd begun packing for Dynamene.

"It's nothing important. It's just that..." Dynamene bit her lower lip shyly before continuing on. "Poseidon promised to get me a second bracelet this afternoon. It's not a big deal that we'll be gone for a while, though. I suppose he'll just have to give it to me when we come back."

Actaea stared at her, her expression almost disturbed. Dynamene stilled at the sight of her face. "What's the matter, Actaea?"

"Nothing, nothing!" Actaea turned back to the trunk. "Come over here and give me a hand, now. I can't pick out every peplos for you, now, can I?"

Dynamene slid off her bed with a hesitant giggle and joined her sister. "I suppose not. I'm not a little girl anymore, after all."

They'd only been folding robes for a few minutes in placid silence when the sound of the wind picking up outside gave them pause. "Is that the wind?" Dynamene asked, tilting her head to get a better listen. The sisters looked to the open window, whose drawn curtains were billowing with the breeze.

Actaea stepped carefully to the window and parted the curtains. Outside, the roaring waves were crashing with much more force than was typical. It was impossible to see anything in the heavy darkness of night, but the wind was blowing hard enough to cause a stir within Dynamene's room. The candles lighting the space sputtered and flickered under the sudden gust. Actaea quickly pulled the exterior shutters closed and latched them securely.

"Why is the ocean like that?" Dynamene whispered. "The weather doesn't seem like anything unusual... It's not raining, is it?"

"No," Actaea sighed breathlessly, dusting her hands off. "I wouldn't worry too much about it. Ten-to-one it'll pass within an hour. Let's finish getting you packed."

Dynamene's stare didn't move from the shuttered window. The wind continued to whistle through cracks in the wood. "Right," she replied slowly.

---

The next morning, heavy rain had joined the churning ocean to produce a full-blown storm. Dynamene peered out her window with uncertainty. Although it was well into the daylight hours now, the sky hadn't lightened much from the previous night. Would they be able to travel in weather like this? Surely they wouldn't be able to safely navigate the seas in their spirit form with waves that high.

"Perhaps Poseidon could calm it down for us," she whispered to herself as she pinned a hooded cloak snuggly about her shoulders. Picking up her packed trunk, she cast one last look at her room with a sigh. It would be a month until she returned, and she was already strangely homesick for it.

She joined the rest of her sisters at the dining hall. The other Nereids that were coming along were dressed in travel gear as well. The din of conversation and chatter did little to drown out the rush of rain outside. She spotted Ianeira, who was wringing her hands as she stared out a tall window. "I guess we won't be seaing this journey, will we?" She asked, stepping closer to join her.

"No," Ianeira answered, turning to face her. "We'll be going by land; by carriage, to be more precise. You're all packed?"

"Yes," Dynamene said, lifting her trunk to show her. "All ready."

"Perfect. We'll leave right after breakfast, then." Ianeira turned to take a place at one of the banquet tables.

The same sense of uneasy that Actaea had carried with her the night before returned to Dynamene. She stared after her eldest sister in confusion before making the decision to call out. "Ianeira?"

"Yes, Dynamene?" She replied, turning back around.

"Is... this trip really about my birthday?" Dynamene ventured, her brow furrowed in suspicion.

"Of course, Dynamene. What other reason would we have for going?" Ianeira answered smoothly. There was no hesitation in her voice, and Dynamene struggled for a suitable response.

"I... I guess it's just that..."

Dynamene's voice trailed off as the rapid clicking of heavy boots approached the dining hall. All of the Nereids got to their feet, taken aback by the sudden appearance of their master.

Poseidon stood in the entrance to the hall, his imposing figure emitting an aura that filled the space around him with unease. His eyes were dark today again, and there was a detached air to his gaze. The Nereids waited with a heavy silence for him to speak.

"Hades is coming to visit later today. Those of you who will be staying behind must see to your duties as soon as possible." His tone was flat and cool.

This set off a chain reaction of murmurs and gasps. Hades had only visited twice before in all the time the Nereids had served Poseidon, and those had been in times of crisis. What could possibly warrant him visiting now?

"Has something happened at Olympus, do you think?" One Nereid whispered. Dynamene stared at Poseidon in fright. A sinking feeling began to settle in her stomach. If a visit from Hera meant bad news, a visit from Hades meant disaster. What was going on?

Evidently, Poseidon felt no reason to explain further, because he had already turned around and was walking back down the dark hallway. Throwing restraint to the wind, Dynamene clenched her jaw and ran after him.

"Dynamene, wait!" Ianeira cried, reaching for Dynamene's cloak. But she was already far out of reach, and she caught nothing but air.

---

Dynamene sprinted down the black hall, trying to decipher which way Poseidon had gone. "Poseidon!" She called, looking around. "I mean, Lord Poseidon!" She halted at the intersection of two hallways, shoulders sinking hopelessly. He had seemingly vanished into thin air. She had no chance of finding him in the dark like this.

"Return to the dining hall," his voice sounded from behind her, and she jumped. How had he crept up on her like that? Whirling around to face him, she saw a familiar old chill in his eyes. She tried to search his gaze, but his eyes weren't focused on her. Cold disbelief began to course through her veins.

"Lord Poseidon, please, what's going on? Why is Lord Hades coming here? Please tell me, I'm worried," Dynamene begged. "He only visits when something bad has happened."

His expression changed naught, even at the sound of her worried pleas. "It is none of your concern. Now go back."

Dynamene's expression crumpled at the familiar sound of detachment in his voice. It was one she hadn't heard in a few weeks; not since the day of her birthday. What had changed in the past night?

"I... I'm worried about you," she tried once more. But she already knew her placates were in vain. He wasn't even looking at her. He didn't see her.

"Enough. I don't have time for this," he responded sharply. "Go back now." He turned away from her.

She stared at him in shock. Why is he like this all of a sudden? Does it have to do with Hades visiting? Or is it something that I did? Her lower lip trembled at his harsh words, and her throat grew tight.

He halted, but she turned away from him in humiliation. She couldn't let him see her cry. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction.

To her shock, he took hold of her shoulder and turned her back to face him. She continued to stare at the ground, refusing to look at him. But he rose one strong hand and smoothed a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. The gesture forced her to stare up at him in disbelief. His expression was still sullen, but his eyes were softer than before.

"Do not worry about Hades's visit," he said, his voice quieter than before. "I have already spoken to him. It has nothing to do with any catastrophe or emergency. Just another pointless visit from a sibling." Having made sure the lock was perfectly tucked back in place, he drew his hand away.

She rubbed her tears away with a shaky fist. "You know, I find it hard to believe that," she said, trying to force her voice to remain steady. It was a useless struggle; she was too overcome with a strangely bittersweet emotion. "But I guess I have no choice but to." And without any further ado, she threw her arms around him.

Poseidon froze as she embraced him. Had anyone ever embraced him like this? No, it was too brazen and unexpected. He looked down at her in disbelief. He could feel the soft skin of her face resting against his chest, and the damp sensation of the tears that lingered on her cheeks. Her arms were too weak to really squeeze him, but she clung tightly to him, as if her life depended on it.

Dynamene exhaled, allowing herself to relax against him. This was her solace. The roller-coaster of emotion that she had suffered the past few weeks meant nothing now. She could hear his heartbeat for real now, not just sensed from a distance away. His body was muscular and firm, unyielding against the softer shape of hers. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before, and she didn't want it to end.

But she knew she had crossed the strict boundaries he kept, so after just a few far-too-brief moments she pulled away. "I'm sorry," she whispered shyly, her face glowing pink with daring. "I'm sorry, I... I will see you later, Lord Poseidon." She didn't dare look at his face as she quickly drew up the hood of her cloak and dashed back down to the hall to rejoin her sisters.

Poseidon looked down at his chest where the remainder of her tears dotted his skin. Her tears were just seawater, no different from the splash of the ocean he was used to feeling. Yet, somehow, these droplets were entirely different. How was it that they seemed to each hold a whole world, a whole unspoken tale, within?

He brushed his fingertips gently against the wetness and brought his hand before his eyes. Tears were for the weak, from the weak. He had no use for them. Tears were a wasted effort that yielded no results except to advertise one's cowardice. He'd never cried, even as an infant, and no one had ever cried for him. That was the way he preferred it; an unyielding, solid reality without the soft give of emotions like these. And yet, these soft teardrops...

He clenched his fist around them, holding them tight. Not out of weakness or cowardice, but for some other completely different reason...

She had cried them for him.

---

"Dynamene, what were you thinking?!" Ianeira cried, grabbing Dynamene by the shoulders as she returned. "Poseidon is clearly not in the mood to be trifled with."

"It's alright," Dynamene said softly. "I... I just told him that I was concerned. But he said it's nothing to worry about." She hid her face in the hood in an attempt to conceal the redness of her eyes and the lingering blush on her cheeks.

Ianeira sighed in exasperation, examining Dynamene's expression. "Very well. The carriages arrived a little bit ago. We should head out now, in case the storm gets worse."

The dozen Nereids that were joining Dynamene on her excursion home quickly got the luggage loaded into the carriages. The outside world was all gray and dim underneath the rain. Dynamene stared out at the sea, captivated by the angry churning of the waves and the crashing white crests. The ocean was never this upset near the palace, where Poseidon's influence kept it calm. Could it be that his mood was affecting it?

"We're all set now, Dynamene," called Eione from the nearest carriage. "Come on." She held out a hand.

Dynamene pulled her cloak tighter about herself and allowed Eione to help her up into the carriage. "Are you all set?" Eione asked. "Better get tucked in well; this weather's not friendly at all." She produced from one chest a thick blanket that she deftly wrapped about the two of them. She leaned out of the carriage just enough to call to the rest of the caravan. "Dynamene's here with me, we're all set to go!" A few moments later, the wheels of the carriage gave a creak and they began their bumpy journey away onto the less-traveled dirt road that led away from the palace through the mountains.

Dynamene looked back through the rain-covered window at the palace, gray and looming in the dismal weather. She was reluctant to leave. If the ocean was a sign of Poseidon's true disposition, things didn't bode well. But what could she do to help anyways? She had nothing but her words to offer, and she had no idea what was troubling him. If it wasn't the prospect of Hades coming, what was it?

She turned back to sit properly, adjusting the blanket around her. Resting her head against Eione's strong shoulder, she allowed herself to close her eyes and relax. I'll be back soon. After this trip, I hope we won't be apart for a while to come.

And you know, when I come home, maybe, just maybe, you'll wrap your your arms around me too.

---

Author’s Notes: Aughhh Why was this one so strangely difficult to write? This part kind of took on a mind of its own in the middle. Poseidon and Dynamene weren't originally supposed to have a conversation here, but because of how things are going to develop later, I decided to have them together here. I think I made the right choice. Dynamene finally got to hug him, so I guess that's a milestone.

Hades is comingggggg No, it's not because of some huge disaster or gory conflict, this isn't that type of fanfic. Poseidon was telling the truth about that much. We've only had one chapter of Hades in the manga, but I actually felt like his character was easier to grasp than his younger brother's, so I don't think he'll give me too much trouble.

From here on out, the plot will get a lot more actiony; a lot of things are going to happen. We'll also be seeing Aphrodite in the near future, about three parts away. In total, there will be about eight parts left. I'm looking forward to finally putting the pieces of everything together for a draMATIC climax.

To my tumblr readers: this fanfic is also on ao3 now, under the same title. I will be updating there first from now on, so please look for it there. Thank you!

[bbrandy2002]

Happy Birthday Jessica!

Title: Twinsane

A/N: Jessie, You already know Burns and I are big fans of your characters and stories, in particular your Leo and Drake. The three of us made our big writing debuts at the same time in the Summer of 2019 and became fast friends that have continued through every high and low we’ve each experienced in our lives. You’ve always been a great and supportive friend with a big heart and a bit of a funny bone. We both hope you have an amazing birthday and we wish you all the best in the coming year.

This story takes place in a universe created by @jessiembruno​.

Palace -- Throne Room

Liam paced the ancient throne room, site of their infant daughter’s upcoming anointing and baptism. Everything seemed to be in place; Regina had made sure of it despite the cast on her arm from her latest sex injury. 

Still, he worried. 

Not because of terrorist threats, not because of Lilyana possibly blowing out her diaper and ruining a $2,000 christening gown. No, he had two concerns: 

His brother and his brother-in-law. 

His wife tried to console him about it, but every time she did, the new father threw his hands up in the air and said, “I don’t want to talk about that stupid pendejo. I just can’t with him --” and the fights they had afterward weren’t worth it.

Leo had passed two kidney stones on the day Lilyana was born. Liam felt bad for him; he really did. Everything he’d heard about passing kidney stones was that it was a truly painful ordeal. 

But Leo, as always, had taken things too far. 

First of all, he’d named them: Rocky and Peter. He referred to them as “the twins,” and everywhere he went, that goddamn jar went with him. It was embarrassing to be somewhere with him in public and then to hear the telltale rattling as he adjusted change in his pocket. 

That was nothing, though, compared to when he’d bought “the twins” a Silver Cross Balmoral pram at the eye-popping price tag of seven grand. It was both nicer and more expensive than Jessica and Liam’s $2,700 Bugaboo by Diesel stroller; Liam had thrown a fit. And not just because Leo had charged them both to Liam’s credit card. 

“We are carting around a royal baby! You spent seven thousand dollars on a grocery cart for your goddamn kidney stones?” 

Leo, puffing out his chest, had merely clutched the jar of medical waste to his heart. “My children are royal adjacent, thank you very much.”  

At least Drake understood that the elder Rys brother was off his rocker, but since Drake flew all the way off the handle every time the subject was mentioned, Liam tried to avoid the inevitable blowups. Just last week, there had been an … incident at a formal dinner.

“Drake, will you watch the boys while I take a piss?” Leo had extended the jar toward the surly dark-haired man. 

“Get those fucken things away from me, Leo! Those were in your fucken dick! What the fuck is wrong with you?” 

Liam had tried to calm Drake down -- Princess Lesedi looked absolutely horrified at the outburst -- but as usual, Leo just made things worse. 

Huffing loudly, he proclaimed, “Lilyana was in Jessica’s bacon hole, and I don’t hear you complaining about that, Drake. You hold her all the time, but you never take the twins when I ask! I am through with this open favoritism!”

Only Alyssa, quietly intervening and taking the jar, had prevented a full-on brawl from breaking out. But since she started to cry when Drake refused to hold her hand afterward even following a thorough handwashing, the crisis hadn’t really been averted in the end. 

Thinking of Drake only led Liam to ruminate on Mateo, his brother-in-law. Nearly a year before, when the four friends had attended a Yankees game with Jessica’s brothers, Mateo had made a sloppy pass at Alyssa without knowing she was in a relationship. 

Well, to be more precise, he’d actually talked about Alyssa in front of her face, not realizing she spoke Spanish, and told his brother “Alyssa can sit on my face.” 

The only thing that had saved the weekend from devolving into complete anarchy was that Drake didn’t know enough Spanish to translate. But someone -- probably shit-starting Leo -- had explained Mateo’s words to Drake, and now Alyssa’s new husband was out for blood. 

If any of them ruin my little princess’ day, Liam swore to himself, I will murder them. I’m king. I can pardon myself. 

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

Palace -- Ballroom

Lilyana was properly anointed and baptized. At the head table, overlooking the large gathering as he cradled his daughter in his arms, Liam looked over the party with a sigh of relief and scooped up another forkful of chicken tagine. Everything had gone off without a hitch, and now they just needed to feed all these people, hand the princess off to Regina or one of her doting aunts or uncles, and he could spirit his wife away to take his “royal scepter” anywhere she wanted it. 

His eyes tracked to Leo, who was in rapt conversation with Penelope across the room. When Leo pulled the jar out of his pocket, Liam threw back his entire scotch in disgust. 

Jessica, resplendent in a new Ana de Luca original, came back to the table. “God, these fucken people are intolerable, Liam. How much longer --” Her words were cut off when Liam wrapped his hand around her wrist. 

“My love, give our daughter to her grandmother. Te necesito. Ahora,” he added, eyes locked on hers. (I need you. Now.)

She took the baby from his arms and brought Lilyana to Alyssa. “The princess needs some time with her Auntie Lyss.” 

Alyssa smirked as she kissed the infant’s sweet-smelling head. “And the queen needs to get her back blown out?” 

Jessica tossed her hair. “Fuck yeah.” 

Alyssa high-fived her before she walked away. 

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

Palace -- Liam and Jessica’s Quarters

“You’re so gorgeous, love,” Liam grunted, gripping a fistful of Jessica’s hair and tugging her head back, exposing her throat to his lips and teeth. 

She shuddered at the feeling, reaching for his thick length. “We don’t have a lot of time …” 

“We have as much time as it takes.” He unzipped the dress and slid it down her body, admiring the curves that had only become lusher with motherhood. Lowering her to the bed, Liam’s lips moved over Jessica’s breasts and stomach. He toyed with the waistband of her underwear. 

“Liam, please --”

The panties dropped to the ground, and her plea melted into a throaty groan at the first swipe of his tongue. “Fuuuuuuuuck.” 

“Yes, love,” he said against her, working her with his hands and mouth. “Dámelo.” (Give it to me.)

She was still shaking with her release when Liam crawled over her, his rigid cock probing between her thighs. “Now, muñeca.” 

Something crashed against the door. 

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

Palace -- Ballroom 

To his delight, Leo had reunited with Miss Willoughby, his fourth-grade teacher. Though she was no longer as perky as he remembered and had grown an unfortunate goiter, she listened attentively to Leo’s stories about his children. 

She had had a lot of champagne. 

“Do you have a picture?” she asked at last, after Leo had regaled her with the tale of taking Peter and Rocky grocery shopping for the first time. 

“Even better than that.” Leo proudly reached into his jacket pocket. “Boys, I’d like you to meet Miss Willoughby.” 

The teacher shrank back with concern. “Leo … what -- what is that?” 

“They are Rocky and Peter.” He pointed to each stone as he introduced them. “Their birth was excruciating, but it was worth every moment of pain.” 

Miss Willoughby rubbed her misshapen throat lump. “Are those --” 

He heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Technically they are kidney stones. But the word ‘kid’ is right in there! Love makes a family, Miss Willoughby. Not your status as ‘human.’” He punctuated the last word with finger quotes of disgust.

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

On the other side of the room, Drake’s gaze narrowed on a familiar face. “Devereaux!” he hissed. 

Alyssa looked up from where she had been singing “Twinkle Twinkle Little Star” to Lilyana. “What?” 

“Is that Jess’ fucken brother?” 

She bit her lip. It was Mateo, but no way was she letting Drake get involved in a brawl at the princess’ anointing, for Christ’s sake. “I don’t remember.” 

“What do you mean, you ‘don’t remember’?” 

Waving a breezy hand, Alyssa hastily tried to defuse the situation. “Oh, I was drinking a lot that day.” 

“A lot for you. Not for your average 15-year-old,” he snickered, agreeing. 

To Alyssa’s relief, the man had slipped out of sight. “Well, be that as it may, you should let that Mateo thing go. Everything’s cool.” 

He scowled. “It is not. I know he’s here today! I’m going to find him and kick the shit out of him.” 

-----------

“You should call me Roberta.” 

Leo raised his eyebrows. “Miss Willoughby -- Roberta. I would be delighted to.” 

She set down her flute. “You certainly grew up handsome …” 

Smoothing his blond locks back into place, Leo gave her a rakish grin. “Why, Roberta. How forward of you.” 

“Is there somewhere we can get away?” She reached out and gripped his ass with surprising strength. 

“I guess that depends on how much you’ve had to drink.” 

“The perfect amount.” Her hand slid around to the front, grappling with the front of his pants. 

“Whoooooooa. Well, in that case, yes. We can get away.” 

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

Alyssa handed Lilyana to Drake in another attempt at distraction, nervous about the way he was pacing the room. “Uh, I have to use the bathroom. Can you take the baby?”

He was already cooing at Lilyana, assuaging Alyssa’s nerves until she made out the words. “And Uncle Drake’s gonna beat the fuck out of your Uncle Mateo ... yes, he is! Yes, he is!”

“Drake!” she gritted. 

“Because nofuckingone talks about your Auntie Lyssa like that; no, they do not!” he continued in a singsong voice, ignoring Alyssa completely. 

She rolled her eyes and headed out of the ballroom, content that he at least wouldn’t start any physical fights with a baby in his arms. 

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

Palace -- Liam and Jessica’s Quarters

Jessica sat up with a start, unfortunately bending Liam’s manhood at an awkward angle. He screamed. 

“Who the fuck is at the door?” Her shrewd eyes, trained to find danger, scanned the room. She threw Liam’s jacket on -- their size difference meant it fit her like a gigantic robe -- and grabbed her taser. 

“Love, wait!” Liam struggled up from the bed, wincing at the pain in his dick. 

“Goddammit, Leo!” Jessica screeched upon throwing the door open. 

Her brother-in-law’s bare ass, driving rhythmically toward a faceless someone who was pressed against the opposite wall, greeted her. 

“Jess! Fuck!” Leo slowed. “Sorry, Roberta, hang on.” Continuing to hold her against him as a shield, he craned his head around to look at her. “I’m a little busy right now. What?” 

She slammed the door closed. “Liam, get dressed.” 

“What the fuck is going on?” The king complied, his good mood completely dissipated. 

“Your fucken brother is banging someone outside our door. I’m pretty sure his ass is the crashing sound we heard. His naked ass touched the door. I’m having maintenance replace it tomorrow!” 

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

Palace -- Hallway Outside Liam and Jessica’s Quarters

Leo struggled back into his pants, grateful that his partner had kept her dress on. “Miss W -- Roberta, I’m really sorry, but we’re going to have to cut this short. Er, not that anything about me is short, obviously. But I’m pretty sure my brother’s about to come out here --” 

The door flew open. “LEO, YOU MOTHERFUCKER!” Liam raged. 

“Run!” Leo grabbed Roberta’s hand and took off running down the corridor, jacket in his other hand. 

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

Palace -- Ballroom 

Alyssa hadn’t come back, but the more Drake stared at the man he had noticed earlier, the more he was convinced it was Mateo Garcia. 

That fucker. 

Lilyana had fallen asleep against his chest. He wasn’t going to disturb her or put her in danger, but … 

Drake looked at the abandoned plates of cake on their table. Steadying the baby with his left arm, he picked up a handful of cake and squeezed it experimentally in his fist. Maybe he hadn’t played ball with Liam and Maxwell in a few years, but he still had a decent arm. 

He rose, stalking closer to his target but staying close to the exit for a quick getaway. 

Drake raised his arm and fired. 

The handful of cake exploded against the man’s face. Spluttering, Mateo whipped his head around and roared, “What the fuck was that?” 

Drake and Lilyana slipped out the nearest door, almost colliding with a sweaty Leo, panic in his eyes. 

Leo grabbed Drake’s shoulders, careful to avoid Lilyana’s head. “Drake! We have a crisis on our hands!” 

He listened to Leo with only half his attention; his other ear focused uneasily on the new commotion of screaming and -- was that breaking glass? -- inside the ballroom. 

“So I need you to come on the search mission with me,” Leo finished. 

Drake shook his head to clear it, registering an older woman with a prominent goiter slinking back into the ballroom. “The fuck are you talking about? Did you just finish having sex with that woman?” He jerked a thumb toward Roberta.

The blond man scowled. “I didn’t get to finish, and neither did she, thanks to Jess and Liam’s drama.” 

“But the --” Drake gestured to his neck. 

Leo waved it off. “I hit it from behind. No distracting visuals that way.” 

“You, dickhead!” Drake grimaced. “Thanks for the mental image.” 

“My pleasure. Now, we need to go. Find someone to take the baby. I need you completely focused.” 

“On what? Where the fuck are we going?” 

“Have you not been listening to me? Jesus, Drake! I need you to help me find the twins!” Leo raked his hand through his hair, making it stand on end as his blue eyes burned with obsessive fire. “I took my jacket off when I was nailing Miss Willoughby -- er, Roberta -- and the jar must have fallen out. My children are missing, Drake!” 

Drake nestled Lilyana against his chest and covered one of her ears. “You -- you have lost the fucken plot, Leo. I am not searching for your -- your -- dick rocks!” 

“You were there at their birth, Drake. It hurts me that you take no interest in your godstones.” 

“Stop calling them my ‘godstones’! That is not even a goddamn word --” Drake broke off his rant as Alyssa appeared in the hallway, covered in red. “Jesus Christ! Baby!” He thrust Lilyana into Leo’s waiting arms; the baby woke up and began to cry. “What happened?” 

“Huh? You made the baby cry!” Alyssa went to take Lilyana, but Drake grabbed her.

“Look at you, Devereaux! Where are you bleeding from?” Frantic, he tugged the neckline of her dress aside, exposing her bra. She slapped his hand away. 

“Stop! I’m not bleeding!” 

“But --” He gestured to the bright stain marring her light blue dress. 

She looked down. “Oh, that. Someone dumped gazpacho on me when I was walking through the ballroom.” 

“What?” 

Alyssa pointed. “It’s anarchy in there; didn’t you notice?” 

The men peered into the room. Roughly 40 people, most screaming, flung food at each other, ducking to avoid flying lunch items and using plates and -- in several concerning cases -- overturned tables as shields. 

“What happened?” Leo looked concerned. 

Alyssa noted the guilty look on Drake’s face as she rocked and tried to shush Lilyana. “I think this baby needs to eat. Have you seen Liam or Jess?” 

The question seemed to snap Leo back to reality. “You should look for them, Lyss. Head them off --”

“What do you mean ‘head them off’?” 

But Leo continued, “And in the meantime, Drake and I need to find the twins!” He grabbed a loudly-protesting Drake by the arm and dragged him down the hall. 

A moment after they turned the corner, Alyssa, still rocking the baby, was startled by her voice from behind her. She turned her head to see Liam and Jessica stalking rapidly toward her. “Oh, I’m so glad you’re back!” 

Jessica took Lilyana, cuddling her. “Let’s go eat.” Stepping into the ballroom, she shrieked, “What the fuck?” 

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

“I need you to help me file a missing persons report,” Leo said 15 minutes later, after they had repeatedly combed the hallways looking for the jar of kidney stones. “My children are in danger!” 

“Stop calling them your fucken children!” 

Leo pressed his lips together with frustration. “I went through two hours of labor and five minutes of pushing, all for your GODSTONES! The least you can do is help report the twins’ disappearance and bring them back to their Papi Chulo.” 

He was saved from Drake’s wrathful retort by a notification on Drake’s phone. “Oh, no you don’t,” Drake muttered, typing furiously on his keyboard. 

“What are you doing?” Leo huffed impatiently. 

“Someone outbid me for this lure I really want.” Drake finished typing and sucked in a breath. “Ohhhhh shit.” 

“What now?” 

Raking a hand through his hair, Drake extended his phone toward Leo. “Uhhhhh, I think you better look at this.” 

“HOberta69? Drake, don’t buy anything from a seller with that name -- holy shit!” he exclaimed as he looked closer. 

He clicked the link; the phone screen filled with his own image. “Yeah,” video Leo said, “it hurt like a son of a bitch when I pushed these li’l fellers out, but that’s parenthood!” He held up the jar and shook it. “The rascals.” 

Drake covered his face with his palm. “You are so fucken embarrassing.” 

“This fucken kidnapper! I give her the best two-pump-chumpin’ she’s ever had and this is how the old bag repays me? Oh, the fucken humanity! I will hunt her down! I will throw her in the dungeons! I will --”

“She’s basically holding them for ransom,” Drake said reasonably. “Maybe if you message her …” 

But Leo had already clicked the “buy it now” option. “Thank God I still have Liam’s credit card saved to my account.” 

Drake’s eyes widened. “You paid for the dick rocks? With Liam’s credit card? You know he’s gonna fucken kill you?” 

“Calm your tits, Drake.” Leo heaved a heavy sigh. “You and Alyssa haven’t created a family yet. The first lesson you’re gonna learn when the time comes, though, is that parenthood is full of bullshit sacrifice … and Liam is the lucky guy who gets to make that sacrifice.” 

[inkweaver22-blr]

Phew! Here’s chapter 15!

I’m not sure how I feel about this one so let me know what you think!

AO3 Link

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Scattered Cicadas - Chapter Fifteen: Distressing Encounters

Tang faces a foe more powerful than Lady Bone Demon.

----------

Tang ran his fingers through Xiaotian’s fur as the young monkey slept. He smiled at the content look on the kid’s face.

He didn’t like this timeline.

These quiet moments of safety and peace were becoming increasingly infrequent this cycle. Tang did his best to be a comforting presence for his son, but the threat of their enemy always loomed in the back of everyone’s minds.

Tang looked at the clock and sighed. If he was going to get any work done before the shop opened he would have to get going soon. Tang placed a kiss against Xiaotian’s forehead before standing to leave.

“Baba?”

Xiaotian was looking up at Tang with half open eyes, obviously still more asleep than awake.

“Go back to sleep, Xiaotian,” Tang said as he resumed running his hand through his kid’s fur. “I was just checking on you before I left.”

“Where ya goin’?”

“I need to head to the shop early to do some paperwork. You don’t need to be up yet.”

“M’kay,” Xiaotian slurred, already falling back asleep from the sensation of Tang stroking his head. “Be safe.”

“I will.” Tang leaned over and placed another kiss on Xiaotian’s head. “I love you.”

“Love you.”

Tang’s heart leapt. It was the first time Xiaotian had confessed his feelings to him this cycle. He smiled down at the once more sleeping figure.

He probably wouldn’t remember this conversation later, but Tang was proud of how much progress Xiaotian was making. The amount of emotional trauma he had been subjected to this cycle was immense. That his loving spirit hadn’t been extinguished was a miracle. Tang was going to do his absolute best to nurture that spirit back to full strength no matter what.

Tang left the apartment and made his way to his antique and artifact repair shop. He was Tripitaka once again this cycle and seemed to have developed a knack for tinkering with relics over the years.

Pigsy, in contrast, was a semi-retired mercenary who liked to hang out at the shop when he had nothing else to do. It was an interesting change in dynamics with Tang being the busy one with a shop while Pigsy loitered around distracting him.

Not that he minded seeing his husband for most of the day.

Tang unlocked the shop and made his way to the back to put away his coat. He picked up several sheets of paper and began working on checking his inventory.

If it had only been Pigsy and himself swapped around, Tang might have found this cycle to be enjoyable. Unfortunately for nearly everyone, that wasn’t the case.

Tang frowned as he absently made a note to order more clockwork springs for his personal repair kit.

This timeline was… pretty bad. It seemed that there was some new crisis every week that would leave horrible emotional damage on anyone involved. Worse yet was the demon who was responsible for the majority of the trauma.

The Monkey King.

Tang shuddered as he remembered the first time he saw the cruel expression of the monster that wore the face of a member of his family.

Tang thought the cycles where he was the villain were bad enough, but at least he could choose to be reformed.

The Monkey King was a bloodthirsty and malicious foe that made any evil version of himself seem tame in comparison.

This anomaly in personality was the result of a plan hatched by Wukong and Macaque hundreds of years ago. Early on during the Journey to the West, the two monkeys had swapped places, with no one being the wiser. So while Wukong was off plotting his revenge against Heaven, Macaque was the one who learned humility and love from Tripitaka and the others.

The end result was the Monkey King being sealed under a mountain with his own staff by Macaque with the assistance of Queen Iron Fan and Red Son who wielded the Samadhi Fire.

Not without a steep price, however.

Macaque had lost his right eye. Red Son had almost been consumed by the sacred flames until Guanyin placed a hoop around the boy’s neck, sealing the flames and unfortunately his memories of being a demon as well. His parents were forced to keep him a bit at arms length to prevent the seal from breaking.

Tang clenched his pen as he thought about the more recent events.

Mei, who was being emotionally neglected by her parents, had witnessed Xiaotian’s adoptive father, the Yellow Wind Demon, being freed from his mink form. She had attempted to fight him, only to be blown away. Once she returned with her family’s spear, she managed to force the demon to retreat. Macaque had then proclaimed he would take her on as his student.

But the worst was yet to come.

Yellow Wind Demon tricked Xiaotian into removing the staff that was sealing the Monkey King away. It was then that the horrible truth had been revealed.

Xiaotian was a clone of the Monkey King.

Tang had to stop and take a few breaths as nausea rushed through him. Luckily Xiaotian had become independent enough that the Monkey King couldn’t just dispel him, but that didn’t stop Tang from having nightmares about it.

Mei and Red Son had rushed off to save Xiaotian from Monkey King’s clutches, and Tang had followed after them. The pure hate the demon monkey had sent his way when he had recited the tightening sutra for the first time in all the cycles to rescue the kids would be seared into his memory for years to come.

Xiaotian had turned against his creator and now lived with Tang and Pigsy in their apartment. The trauma of being a copy of that monster was still strong, but Tang intended to smooth it out with endless kindness and love.

Tang pushed his glasses up and rubbed his eyes as the image of a sinisterly grinning Monkey King filled his head once more.

He had been extremely lucky that he hadn’t been recognized as Tripitaka by the demon. He had no doubt the Monkey King would then stop at nothing to hunt him down for turning Macaque against him. Not that it had been too hard once he and the others had pointed out to Macaque how abusive the Monkey King was in their relationship.

Tang sighed as he tried to focus on his inventory list.

He hated feeling this powerless. The Monkey King was the most terrifying adversary he had faced across the timelines. Worse than even Lady Bone Demon and the Mayor. He was going to get ulcers from how worried he constantly felt.

The bell above the front door chimed, signalling an entering customer. Had he forgotten to keep the sign flipped to closed?

“I’m sorry,” Tang said, not turning from his paperwork. “But the shop is closed at the mome-”

A paw clasped around his mouth and a strong arm wrapped around his waist, pulling him close against someone. Tang dropped his papers as his glasses fell from his face.

“Hello Tripitaka,” a horrifyingly familiar voice said.

Tang turned in terror to see the sneering face of the Monkey King leaning close into his own.

“I missed you so much.”

No no no no no!

How had he found out?!

“Let’s go find Liu Er and the kid and go home now, hmm?”

Tang’s blood ran cold.

Monkey King didn’t want him dead. It was so much worse than that.

He wanted Tang to be a part of his twisted family with Macaque and Xiaotian.

The thought of being used against his old friend and son to make them comply made Tang’s pulse quicken.

He couldn’t let that happen!

Adrenaline rushed through him as previous years of fighting experience kicked in.

Tang shoved his foot back into his captor’s, managing to catch Monkey King by surprise and push him off balance. The strength of the Earth suddenly seemed to flow through him as he grabbed the demon’s arms and managed to throw him over his head into one of the displays on the wall.

Instinctively, Tang raised his hands as another power came forth. He quickly called out the tightening sutra while casting a binding spell simultaneously. The Monkey King snarled in pain as his fillet squeezed his head and ropes of golden-yellow light wrapped around him.

Tang waved his hands and recited another spell, summoning several domed barriers of light around the demon as he knew the ropes wouldn’t hold for long. He would worry about how he was doing this once he was out of danger and not running on autopilot

“You’ll regret that!” The Monkey King bared his fangs at Tang as he strained against the magic ropes, several of them already beginning to snap.

“The only thing I regret, Wukong,” Tang said coldly, his hands glowing golden-yellow as he began to manipulate the Earth beneath the shop, “was not being a good enough teacher to show you the error of your ways.”

The Monkey King snarled in defiance as two enormous slabs of rock burst through the floor and fused together around the barriers holding the demon. Tang rushed forward and placed the strongest seal he knew onto the makeshift prison.

It wouldn’t keep the insanely powerful demon trapped permanently, but it would buy Tang enough time to get to his husband and son and escape to somewhere safe.

Tang picked his glasses up and ran from the shop, placing another seal on the building itself for good measure. A few of the friendlier shopkeepers from the neighboring buildings were standing outside.

“Are you alright Tang?”

“We heard a loud crash coming from your shop.”

“The Monkey King is trapped inside,” Tang said a bit breathlessly. The shopkeepers looked panicked. “He’s after me. I need to get my family to safety. Can you make sure this street is evacuated before he escapes?”

“Holy shit!”

“Y-yeah! We’ll take care of it! Just go get somewhere safe!”

“Thank you. You all might want to stay away for a while as well in case he tries to use you to get to me,” Tang said. They all paled a little at that and quickly left after wishing him good luck.

Tang took off at a sprint towards his apartment. He had left his phone in the back of the shop with his coat. Hopefully it was still early enough that neither Pigsy or Xiaotian had left yet.

The adrenaline was quickly wearing off, and he felt the powers he had used ebb away entirely. Tang would have normally been endlessly fascinated at this new development, but the threat of the Monkey King was still hanging over him. He would have to examine what had just happened later once they were all somewhere safe.

There was an explosion in the distance, followed by an enraged roar.

Tang grit his teeth as he ignored the stitch in his side and ran faster.

He really didn’t like this timeline.

----------

And here we have the second most popular AU by @winterpower98, the absolute angst-fest that is the Swap AU.

The scene where Wukong shows up is directly referencing this comic that got commissioned by @stylishbutdefinitelyillegal.

I’m not sure if I managed to capture Tang’s thoughts on this timeline clearly or if I just managed to give a brief, crappy summary of it instead. :/

And what’s up with those powers from past cycles showing up? That’s certainly never happened before.

Guess we’ll have to wait and see!

Until next time!